Chapter 3
The boat came to a stop beside a large wooden jetty protruding from the pebbled beach of an island. From a distance, they could see one single and very large house at its centre.
Hermione would have been lying if she said that the secluded location of this house did not somewhat worry her. With no access to the outside world came a whole array of problems. What if someone got hurt and needed to go straight to St Mungo's? What if they ran out of food and had to starve?
She should not have come. This had been a terrible idea.
Riddle climbed his way out rather effortlessly and levitated his suitcase out of the boat with a "Locomotor Suitcase". He then once again offered Hermione his hand, who took it and hoisted herself up. He had made it look far easier than it was and Hermione felt herself waver as her feet landed poorly on the wood, stumbling into Riddle who held her still by the upper arm, gaze fixed upon her.
Hermione was now exhaling loudly, panting slightly, very conscious of his hands gripping her arms. He was as immobile as ever.
"Thank you," she mumbled. "Sorry about that."
"No need to apologise. You are tired after the long journey."
The wooden boat that had taken her and Riddle to this island now began to sail back towards Durlston Dock. Hermione looked at it, seriously considering hopping back on and getting the hell out of that unnerving place.
There was a thick forest that they would have to travel through before reaching the house. Hermione looked back over at Riddle, who was appraising their surroundings.
"I'm tempted to jump back on that boat and go home," she confessed.
"That boat will not be returning to this jetty until the very end of our stay here."
"How on earth do you know that?" Hermione asked, her jaw dropped. "See, I knew you weren't telling me something."
"There is plenty that I am not telling you, Miss Granger. I suggested you get used to it."
Was he flirting with her? Hermione could feel herself blushing and thanked Merlin that it was pitch black.
Then she realised that of course she would have to get used to his secretive nature if they were to be cooped up against their will in a secluded mansion on an island. Having had minimal male attention in the past few years, Hermione was somehow lead to believe that any courtesy coming from a man was naturally code for fancying her. She needed to get her head out of her arse.
They began to walk through the woods, following a short path leading to the house. Woods at night were always rather eerie, but not even the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts compared to this. It was dark. Very dark. Even her lumos could not battle it.
Every sound she heard made her shudder: the crack of a branch, the wails of the screeching wind, the occasional hoarse and grating caws of crows.
"I'm assuming there are some pretty strong anti-apparition wards on this place," Hermione noted, attempting to direct her commentary at Riddle, who was a few paces in front of her.
"You would be correct, Miss Granger."
"Otherwise we wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of that boat ride. It must have taken at least an hour and a half."
Riddle paused.
"It was indeed an hour and a half."
Hermione smiled to herself, always happy to be right about things.
They continued their walk, finally coming up to a large clearing in the wood where the mansion was situated. It was exceedingly well kept for being in such a remote location.
The stone was a dull grey, and the house was perfectly symmetrical. It looked like every other stately home she had every visited, only that this one seemed largely more sinister. She could not help but be in awe, admiring the large, curtained windows, the wide double door entrance and the steps leading up to it.
"I'm really hoping it's dinner time because I am absolutely famished."
Riddle said nothing as they approached the house, extending his hand to accompany her up the stairs.
She didn't need help getting up the stairs, of course, he was just being polite. And so she accepted his hand once again, glove still in place, and they ascended the stairs.
"I can't wait to finally meet these people. They've been awfully shy so far," said Hermione.
"Quite."
As soon as they were directly in front of the double doors, they swung right open. Hermione turned her head to the side to glance over at Riddle who was looking down the candle-lit corridor.
Hermione did the same, and noticed yet another sepia-coloured letter with a black wax seal on a little table pressed against the wall next to an oval shaped gilded mirror.
"Another letter? You have to be joking."
Riddle gestured to Hermione to take the lead. She nodded and stepped forwards, into the house.
It was hardly any warmer inside the mansion, but Hermione removed her gloves and scarf nonetheless, stashing them in her extendable bag, even though was no host there to scrutinise her social decorum.
She crept towards the table and took the letter into her hands.
***
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
Welcome to Myrtle Manor. We hope that you had a most pleasant journey.
You may leave any belongings you wish to be taken up to your room by this table. Further details surrounding your room will be provided at a later point this evening.
Please now enter the dining room at the end of the corridor for dinner. They are expecting you.
We sincerely hope that you find your stay at Myrtle Manor comfortable and to your liking.
***
Hermione read the letter. And then she read it again. And again.
It had not been signed this time. This did not strike Hermione as an accident. And who was 'they'? In all the previous letters, the anonymous sender had used 'we', but a single 'they' had been used very much deliberately in the penultimate paragraph.
She read over it one more time, just for luck. A thought then occurred to her which should have really crossed her mind much earlier.
She handed the letter to Riddle, whom scanned it over twice.
"Why isn't your name on this letter, Riddle?"
He did not answer, eyes deeply focused on the letter.
"Answer me honestly: you are not here for an Elfish rights conference, are you?" Hermione asked, gulping as she asked a question which made her spine shiver.
Riddle locked his eyes on Hermione.
"No, Miss Granger, I am most certainly not."