ϟ ψ ΡΣΓCY JΔCΚSΘΝ GΘΣS ΤΘ ΗΘGΨΛΓΤS ψ ϟ

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟- 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠'𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟?

Over two years. That was how long it had been since the death, or disappearance, as Hermione preferred to more delicately refer to it, of Perseus Jackson.

Two years, and not a sign of him anywhere.

Maybe it was just foolish hope, expecting him to return some day. Many simply called it denial, but something deep down in Hermione's core told her he was still alive, and the little remaining optimism within her in such bleak times chose to believe it.

Her current situation wasn't exactly how she had predicted her life changing back in her innocent fifth year at Hogwarts. She didn't expect the school to be taken over by death eaters, or to be on the run from Voldemort while try to collect the horcruxes that contained shards of his soul in order to defeat him. She didn't expect to be running for her life, a fugitive for being a mudblood, or to have modified her parents memories so that they were oblivious to her entire existence in order to protect them.

It truly was crazy times they were living in, and the truth was that she was completely and utterly terrified. She had to hide it, she had to appear strong, keep up moral. She was Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age. She had the solution to any problem she faced.

But inside all she wanted to do was cry.

It was a bleak winter's night, and she shivered from her sleeping bag as she sat in there tent, the sounds of Ron's thunderous snoring and Harry's restless tossing not providing too soothing of an atmosphere for sleep. The wind howled through the eery forest, and every snap of a twig caused her to jump with fear. Her imagination ran wild every time she closed her eyes, and eventually she gave up on any hope of rest, extracting a book from her bottomless bag and lighting the tip of her wand in order to illuminate the text.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard; why had Dumbledore left her this book? He was a naturally cryptic character, but this was a stretch, even for him. She had studied every page so far for the slightest hint of a clue as to what on Earth he seemed to be trying to tell them, and made no progress in the slightest. Hope was wearing thin at this stage, and she wasn't sure whether she had much will to keep going at all. What did she have to live for really?

She removed the scrap of paper that was acting as a bookmark, revealing the first page of a new story. The Tale of Three Bothers; now that was a disturbing story. Beating death, that was exactly what Voldemort craved, but how could a silly old story be of any consequence? The story was grim, not exactly what you would want to be reading while your imagination was playing havoc on your senses. She closed the book with a sigh, rummaging around for something else to entertain her mind with. She could feel her heart stop as she came across a shiny cover she had packed just as a precaution- A Beginner's Guide to Greek and Roman Mythology.

She had never told Ron and Harry about Percy's message, or anything to do with the curse. At first it had simply slipped her mind any time she was around them, thoughts directed elsewhere, but as time went on she had simply decided to keep the information to herself. There was enough unknowns in this fight as it was, and just adding more to the mix and making Voldemort seem even more undefeatable than he already did didn't benefit anyone. Focus on destroying the horcruxes, that's what they had to do. One almost impossible task at a time.

She had still been researching certain aspects of Greek mythology in her free time, also known as her sleepless nights, just to ensure she had some useful information to fall back on. Part of her did wonder how any of it would be possible useful; the Gods didn't exist, or if they once did they certainly weren't alive and kicking anymore. Still, there had been a time where she had considered witches to be a myth, completely unaware that she was one herself, so maybe that was a lesson to be learned; keep your mind open to all possibilities.