Chapter 4
Hermione’s still cursing when she reaches the underground door to the Gryffindor headquarters, braking harshly on her skates. She grunts, pushing all of her weight against the door that was once for a vault. The hinges groan and she steps through eagerly. Her dress catches on the bottom and rips, and her stream of cussing resumes. “No wrinkling the masterpiece,” Ginny had warned her.
She heaves a sigh. Ginny’s gonna kill her.
Hermione slips off her rollerblades. “Hello?” She calls out, craning her head to listen. Only silence greets her, and she remembers that everyone is out celebrating Halloween.
Weaving through the hallways, she lets herself into Albus’s office, a place she knows all too well, a place where her life’s trajectory changed on a fateful day when she was twelve. Her eyes drift across the high ceilings and the dozens of portraits on the walls. She sits in his chair, looking out for a moment and pretending that she is him. She is powerful. She has dozens of lives in her control.
Setting the mask down on the desk, she grabs some of his pen and paper and writes.
Albus,
I secured the mask, as you can see. It is with the utmost regret that I inform you that Malfoy — somehow — seized the center diamond from the mask. I don’t know how he did it. I’ll think about it and get back to you. This will not happen again.
-H.G.
Hermione could wait for him and the others to return, but she won’t. She won’t face them and tell them that she failed. She tells herself that she at least got the mask. Was it only a half fail, then?
She hurries up the stairs and through the hallways without thought, her body moving with ingrained habit. Grimmauld Place is her home, and has been for seven years. Relief rushes through her once she enters her small room. It’s simple, practical: just a lot of filled bookcases and a single bed, with grey walls and grey sheets. Grey is her favorite color, though she never stops to think why.
Hermione immediately sheds her dress and lets it pool on the floor. Pulling on an oversized blue sweatshirt that hangs to her knees and pulling the hood tight over her head. She curls onto her bed, yelling into her pillow.
How did Draco do it? She mulls it over, starting from when she took the mask from Beauford. She focuses on that moment when he bumped into her, standing in front of her for no more than a few seconds before moving aside. He had to have taken the diamond at that moment, and she had been too swept up in her excitement to notice.
Hermione’s hand fists in her other pillow, only to be met with a crisp texture and a crunching noise. Curious, she sits up, finding a piece of paper crushed between her fingers. She smoothes it out on her lap, eyes widening with each line she reads.
Angel of Sin,
I hope this letter finds you well. Your reputation precedes you, and I have heard tales of you all over the world.
I am writing with an opportunity unlike any other that has come before, unlike any other that will come after.
Not only is this a multi million pound job, the stakes are much higher than you can imagine.
I will not divulge any more information lest this letter is intercepted. I would like to request a meeting with you to further explain. My ship is docked at the far right side of the bay. The ramp will be lowered for you at 2355 and raised again at 2400 hours. Once you’re on deck, take a sharp left and go down the stairs. Wait in the first room on the right.
I hope to see you, and I urge you to consider working with me.
Sincerely,
Captain Pam
Hermione almost faints from disbelief. Captain Pam wrote to her.
Captain Pam.
Captain Pam.
The legendary teenage pirate who is said to have the fastest ship, the greatest adventures, the brightest spirit. Hermione has always dreamed of being on the ocean with her, with the goddess of the seas, letting herself roam and run free in concurrence with the ebbing waves.
Hermione’s eyes dart to the clock beside her bed: 11:30 PM. She practically bounces out of bed, pulling on her black bodysuit and combat boots. She pulls her window open in a flash, crouching on the windowsill.
Before she sets out to make one of the biggest decisions of her life and meet her personal hero, she hesitates for a breath, thinking of Ginny and Harry and Ron and Fred and George. She decides to fill them in later, but she needs to go. If she skipped out on at least hearing Captain Pam out, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
She nods to herself, grabbing her MP3 player and sticking the earbuds in her ears. Her posture instantly relaxes when her favorite song, ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ by Crowded House, begins. Her absolute favorite song, ever since she heard it on the radio in the car with her parents when she was six. Slipping into her cloak and pulling her hood and black mask on, only her amber eyes visible in the sea of twilight, she soars into oblivion.
Hermione never feels freer than when she’s leaping across the rooftops of Hogsmeade. Mid jump she does flips, she extends her arms, she imagines she’s flying and she has not a care in the world, letting the symphony of dreams carry her away.
It’s not hard to find Captain Pam’s ship. It’s by far the largest and grandest ship in the entire bay, if not the entire ocean. The sunkissed structure stretches towards the heavens with a desperate yearning to brush fingertips with the clouds. The massive boat seems as polished as a palace, with perfected shades of light brown and an intricate statue of a snake stretching from the front. Hermione creeps onto the boat at 11:59, and the entryway shuts right behind her.
Here goes nothing.
Hermione does as the letter told her to, turning left and descending the stairs. She can tell the steps are old, but not so much as a creak sounds from her light footsteps. She goes into the first door on the right, a green door with a snake. Inside, the lights are dim and all she can see is the faint outline of a round table.
Then the door shuts and she’s backed into it, met with glinting eyes in a sea of darkness. “Oh, gods.”
A smirk plays across Draco’s lips. "And so the demon and the angel meet again.”