Meeting a friend
Joining the various chats about Dark Livestream was easier than Hermione had worried it would be. No one seemed to suspect that @BludgersandBroomsticks was the resident Gryffindor workaholic, so she was free to chime in whenever she wanted and hopefully get some questions answered. After a week or so, she had even managed to get invited to a couple smaller servers which seemed more focused on actual spells and less on bizarre code words like "stan" and "simp". If they were used the same way every time, Hermione could have figured out exactly what they meant, but everyone just replied "mood" when she asked for definitions so she had quit trying.
She was fairly certain she was in a group with the Slytherins from her year, because White Dragon was a rather predictable a name. She wasn't sure what in-joke the name Malfoy's Bitch referenced, but she really hoped it was just a joke. There were some helpful people, most especially Crouching Raven. He had given her several good tips on different things to try, but she still couldn't cast the spell she picked out. She was pretty sure that no one had figured out who she was, yet. She worked hard to sound completely different, even stealing some examples of internet slang to occasionally drop into conversation. It was tricky, but getting busted wasn't acceptable.
Really though, the chats weren't helping enough. She needed more books. The two she had gotten last time weren't sufficient. Sure, she had found a good stack of books, but most of those were on her other research topics, not this one. The best part of being in all the different groups was that she could tell when they were planning to meet up in Diagon Alley, and swing by the bookshop before anyone could catch her. Apparently, the Slytherins were having a catered brunch for upper years this Hogsmeade Saturday, so none of them would be at the shops until one at the earliest.
She didn't even have to bother making excuses with her friends this time. Pyrite had already confirmed he was going to be at the brunch, and Hermione wasn't blind enough to miss who that was. Especially as she'd been proofreading his essays since first year. Ron wasn't going to the brunch, of course, he was instead taking Lavender to the Three Broomsticks. (Hermione wasn't disappointed, the idea of trying to keep up with a romance while she was so busy with her NEWTs was ridiculous. There was a slight pang of what might have been, but it was easily drowned out by her extra-curricular studying.)
She shot off a quick text, and made her way to London. This time, she wasn't nearly so nervous when she walked into the store, and made her way immediately to the right section. She got caught up in flipping through books, and comparing titles to the banned book list published on Professor Riddle's main page. So far none were outright banned, but many were in the Hogwarts Restricted subcategory.
"Hermione!" She jumped, then grinned at the man joining her. "Glad you were able to make it out so early, I heard rumors that the place would be crowded later on. Found anything good?" Barty ambled up to her, also less nervous than the first time they had met.
"Well, yes, of course I made it. I heard that, too, so I wanted to pick out a couple more books before moving elsewhere. Do you.. Want to come?" She looked at him, amazed at her own daring. Barty was very cute, and much older than her. They had been talking over text and on the occasional call just about every night, and she couldn't ignore the fluttering in her stomach when she looked at him. For some reason the thought of a little romance with him didn't stress her out, like the same thought with Ron had.
He grinned and nodded. "Great! I was going to get you a new bag for all your books anyway, so let's get a move on, right?" He leaned over, and pulled a few more titles off the shelf for her, then took the ones she had already picked out. Hermione trailed him to the checkout, knowing that she should protest him buying her books, but unable to speak up. She had considered the two he grabbed, but they were out of her budget.
***
They spent the rest of the morning discussing magical theory and their different opinions over far too many cups of tea. Finally, after a leisurely lunch, Hermione changed the subject. "Barty, I have something to ask you, but it's a bit..." She glanced around nervously, then leaned in a bit more. "It's rather private," she whispered, nibbling on her lip.
Barty flushed, and glanced around, then looked back at her. "Uh, yeah, alright. You want to go somewhere else? How old are you, anyway?"
Hermione frowned at him. "How old am I? Why would you even ask that?" She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "I already know you're old as dirt." Her voice rang with indignation.
He gaped unattractively at her for a moment before snapping his mouth shut and glaring at her. "I am not! And anyway, how would you know how old I am?"
She raised an eyebrow, in a move that was pure McGonagall, and smirked. "Barty Crouch, Jr. Defense teacher at Hogwarts my fourth year, Ravenclaw, class of '79, 12 OWLs, and 7 NEWTs. Did you really think that glamouring your hair and eye color was enough? Your username is Crouching Raven," she hissed.
He blinked again and licked his lips nervously, before looking back at her. "Hang on, my discord?? How do you even know that? I guess they weren't joking about your intelligence, Miss Granger. Even though your essays could use some editing for length..." He trailed off provocatively.
She sat up straight and put her hands on her hips. "Now excuse you! My essays are perfect! I haven't gotten less than an Outstanding from anyone except Professor Snape since I started at Hogwarts. How dare you say that--" she cut herself off, and glared at him. "And don't go trying to distract me! You obviously know who I am, so you know how old I am. I wanted to be done with the charade that either of us were fooling the other. I have questions, but I can't ask them at a tea shop. Are you going to escort me somewhere else, or should I just go back to school?"
Barty grinned at her, enjoying the challenge of their argument. "Alright, love, let's go. I've got a flat around here that we can go to, and I can answer whatever questions you might have."
Hermione bit her lip, then nodded and pulled her phone, sending off a group text. "I'll come, but I've turned on the FindMe app, and I've told my friends where I'm going. You get one chance, Barty." She was rather impressed with her own daring. She hadn't spent casual time with a criminal in ages. Unless, of course, you counted Sirius. Or Professor Snape. Or Harry. Well, this was a new criminal, and that was exciting!
***
The flat was small, tucked into an offshoot of Diagon Alley that wasn't even long enough to be named. As she walked in, she could see the doors to the kitchen, bathroom, and the only bedroom. The furniture was worn, but obviously of high quality. The main feature, however, were the bookshelves. Every single bit of wall that wasn't occupied with a door or window was covered in them. They stretched all the way to the ceiling, in a way that made the room look even smaller than it was. She smiled and her eyes sparkled as she eyed his books. "Oh! How lovely... I had heard of this one..." She immediately started browsing the shelves before remembering herself. "Um. Sorry about that, just got a bit distracted." In addition to the many books, many small knickknacks were spaced throughout the room. Some even looked like souvenirs from Egypt and Greece.
Barty was leaning against a shelf to the other side of her, grinning as he watched her. "No worries. Don't let me stop you."
She shook her head. "No, I had a question. You see, last week, I read all those books that I bought. They weren't too confusing, but when I went to try one of the spells..." She scowled at her wand hand, then looked back to him. "Not even a spark! What am I doing wrong?"
He pushed up off the bookshelf and walked towards her, drawing her over to the couch. "I can help you, but I'm going to need some quid pro quo." His eyes caught on hers as she stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "No, not like that! Just, I need to know. How do you know my discord handle? Who are you on there?"
Hermione relaxed marginally and smirked at him. "You couldn't tell? Bludgers and Broomsticks ring a bell?"
He leaned back dramatically, letting his head fall onto the backrest and covering his face with his hand. "Oh dammit, of course. You've been asking leading questions all over the board, I just didn't picture you ever dropping response memes instead of a proper answer."
Her smirk grew into a grin. "Good. If you didn't pick me out, then hopefully no one else will. So you'll help?"
He nodded, sobering as he leaned forward again to meet her eyes. "That was the first actual Dark spell you've cast, right? Which one did you pick?"
She settled down more comfortably on the couch with him and pulled the book out of her bag before setting it on the ground. She flipped to the spot in the book and showed him the spell. "I was going to spell my notebook so that no one could read it."
He nodded slowly as he read over the spell. "Ah, yes, this one. Good choice as a starter, but I think I know what went wrong. Casting it on a book is perfectly acceptable, but let me see your notebook, there are a few conditions it has to meet. You see, most notebooks are open on the sides, and that's going to break the spell instantly. You need solid sides and a latch. It doesn't have to actually lock, just has to be able to be completely enclosed. The reason they just call it a book is because there was a fad for box books a couple hundred years back, and a lot of wizards still prefer their grimoires be that style of book."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, of course. You can't lock something that you can access another way, that makes sense. Do all of the dark spells have little bits implied and left out?"
Barty shook his head. "No, not all of them. What you're looking at here is the difference in a book written for schoolchildren, and one that's written for post graduates. If you were to look at this one," he said as he hopped up to grab another book off his shelves. "This neutral charm has the same issue. They give you the motion, the incantation, and the result. Nothing on the restrictions. You have to know ahead of time that since this book was published in Wales, in the 1800s, that you should also consider the restrictions and implications in Magical Theory, A Treatise on Charms by Arthur Smith. In that one, they tell you all the different conditions, so that you can make adjustments as needed. School books will hold your hand. These? They expect you to know."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "And the books I picked up today? Will some of those help?"
He held his hand out and waffled back and forth. "For the most part. If you keep watching Professor Riddle's show, you're going to catch a lot of hints. He doesn't really dive deep into the theory though. For that..." He gazed across his shelves, then got back up to grab another book. "Now this one is banned at Hogwarts, so I can't let you take it there. However, if you wanted to review it here, and take some notes?"
After a long, very productive discussion, Hermione finally left. They had ended up sitting right next to each other, so that they could share the book and he could make notes in her notebook for what she needed to try next. She didn't let him see her try and cast the spell again though, she wanted to risk possible humiliation on her own. Barty did demonstrate several other spells from the book, though, and the feel of the magic in the room was no different than the feel of Charms class. Watching him slice his finger and draw a series of runes on his desk in his own blood was a bit disturbing, but the thought of being able to seal a desk to only her use was incredibly tempting. Never having to deal with her roommates rifling through her drawers for ink or parchment again? The dream. A little blood, not even enough to require a blood replenisher wasn't so steep a price for her privacy.
Hermione bit her lip, then looked from the desk to Barty. "Is that detectable? Like, would someone know?" Her voice was small and hesitant.
Barty shook his head and grinned impishly at her. "No, that's the best part! They're always going on and on about catching dark magic using the wards at Hogwarts, but there's really no way to tell the difference. Magic is magic, Hermione. You don't feel a difference do you?" His voice spilled over with passion and excitement.
She shook her head, and frowned at the desk. "I haven't found anything showing the real difference between dark magic and regular magic, though. How would I know? Some of the spells that the ministry calls dark... They're the same as what they taught in DADA." She was feeling her way through the conversation, uncertain. "I know that some of the decisions on what's dark is political, but what's the real difference? I know there has to be one, or that ritual, showing how steeped you are in dark magic, would give random results."
Barty nodded, and his voice took on a lecturing tone. "You're right. Many of the classifications were political. Something that someone in the Ministry couldn't cast, or something they couldn't block, those all ended up on the list. But the real division, between actual dark magic and regular? It's the cost. You see, all magic has a price. Nothing's free."
Hermione frowned at him. "What do you mean? A cost?"
He caught her eyes and continued. When discussing something he was passionate about, Barty practically glowed with intensity. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away. "Yes. If you cast something small, you don't even notice it, I bet. It's just after you cast spell after spell that you can start to feel it. You know how you feel after an hour of target practice? Or an hour of Transfiguration? You're exhausted aren't you? Some people will feel that sooner, others later. You're paying for those spells with your internal magic." He paused and scanned her face to make sure she was still with him, and went on. "You see, with dark magic, the price isn't internal, it's external. With some spells, yeah, it's a drop of blood here or there. With others? It can be anything." Hermione's eyes grew big as she quickly began to reorder her thoughts on different spells, trying to fit them into this new paradigm. "I've seen spells that require the first grains harvested off a new field, or memories, or a vow, or--"
Hermione filled in, after he cut himself off. "Or a life? That's what you were going to say, right?" Her mind leaped, and she finished the thought, "That's what saved Harry, isn't it? His mother cast a dark spell, then sacrificed her life. And memories? Do you mean the patronus?" Her thoughts turned even further inward as she thought.
She missed the admiring look on Barty's face. "Exactly. Ten points to Gryffindor."
Distractedly, she shook her head. "I'm going to have to think about this, Barty. What you're saying makes sense, but I need to do more research. I can't just jump off on the explanation that makes me the most comfortable, I need to know more before I can just say 'Oh yeah, dark magic is just fine, no big deal!' I want to just accept it and move on to learning the spells, but I need to think about this some more."
As she gathered her things to leave, Barty glanced around then opened the coat closet. "Look, Hermione. We didn't get a chance to go shopping again, but I used this in school, and I really think that it would help you out." He pulled a bag down off the top shelf and handed it to her. It was a deep brown leather messenger bag, with bronze buckles and a blue lining.
Hermione looked at him quizzically, then shot a glance at her bag sitting near the couch. "Why do I need another bag?"
He grinned at her. "This one is featherlight and bottomless. You just have to stick your hand in, think of what you want to retrieve, and it'll appear in your hand. You can't put more than about 500 books in at a time though, so remember to rotate them through."
She choked, then glared at him. "500 books? I don't need that many in one day! But, I mean, I guess that would be convenient..." She considered her library, mentally running through the index.
Barty interrupted her thoughts by handing her the bag. "Just, enjoy, alright? You can give it back when you don't need it anymore. Oh, one more thing. It's warded, so if someone casts a Finite near your books, they won't revert and get you in trouble. I don't even want to think of what they'd say if you were caught with these!"
She returned his smile and nodded, before swapping her things over to the new bag. It really was a very nice bag, despite the Ravenclaw color scheme. No longer having to worry about getting busted with her glamoured books was another bonus. The biggest bonus, though? The butterflies she felt in her stomach when Barty adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder before she walked out.
Before she could second guess herself, she hugged Barty quickly. "Thanks for they help, Barty. I really appreciate it." He carefully returned the hug, resting his hands on her back.
"It's no problem. Like I said, I really like discussing theory, and no one really seems to enjoy it as much as I do. They just want the flashy spells." He ran his hand up to her shoulders and squeezed gently before releasing her. "Watch your back out there, love. We'll talk again soon? Call if you get stuck on that spell."
Hermione blushed and nodded. Hugging Barty was nothing like hugging Harry or Ron. He held her like she was something precious, rather than returning the hug out of habit. It was a really nice feeling, which kept her distracted the whole way back to the sanctuary of her dorm room.
***
After she was safely ensconced in her bed, with all the necessary silencing charms, she tried to cast the dark spell again, on the box with a working latch that he recommended. Also, rather than just visualizing the result, she had to focus her will on the desired effect. Images weren't enough for most dark arts, they required emotion, too. This time, as she dropped the blood on the latch, she could feel the spell leaving her wand, wrapping around the box, and locking into place. Hermione grinned in triumph, the success washing over her. "If what Barty said is true, and the costs are so variable, maybe it would be ok to try a few other Dark spells. I'd have to be careful, make sure that I'm not getting in over my head or anything, but a drop or two of blood is no big deal. But, the headmaster said that all dark magic is forbidden, and surely he knows what he's talking about. He has sounded kind of prejudiced against it, though." Crookshanks turned his back to her and laid back down, his bottle brush tail concealing his face. "I guess it is pretty late. But.. I mean, as long as I'm not sacrificing people, isn't that enough? Just a little bit of my own blood isn't much."