𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍-𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙

Chapter 25

Lovesbitca8 TAKES CREDIT THIS IS HER WORK - FOUND ON AO3

The flames licked her legs as they passed through the fire into Draco's bedroom. Hermione looked down at the journal — the leather cover scraped and worn, the parchment soft with age. Her fingers gripped it tightly, and she blinked. She flipped to the pages she'd never seen before, checking to make sure they were real.

The key to the Scourers' code stared back up at her. She drew a shaky breath, thumbing through the pages until her vision blurred. They'd done it. They'd gotten the information she needed. It was more than she'd dared to hope for.

She spun to Draco, feeling energy coursing through her. He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her.

"I knew it would work," she said breathlessly.

He lifted a brow. "But it didn't. You failed to seduce the information out of him—"

"I still got him to share what he knew—"

"You got him to hand that book over? If I didn't have the foresight to—"

"—use truth serum on a defenseless girl?" She glowered at him. "Yes, we mustn't forget that part."

Draco scoffed. "An hour ago, you wouldn't have spit on her if she was on fire, but now you feel she's been unjustly treated—"

"I would have expected you to inform me of a plot like that—"

"It got you your bloody journal, didn't it?"

"No, it didn't! He invited us over because he was already planning to tell us—"

"He was eyeing the situation, and if I didn't have leverage he might have used it against us—"

"You're wrong! He gave it to us because he cares about Oliver!"

"It doesn't matter." Draco shoved his hand through his hair. "You have the journal now."

She pursed her lips and ran her fingers over the pages again. Her mind began whirring quickly, her irritation slipping away. "It's Gaulish," she said after a few moments. "The seventh cluster is based on Gaulish runes." Chewing her lip, she checked the clock on his mantle. It was 2:30 in the morning, but she was wide awake.

"I'll send coffee to the library," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Go."

Offering him a quick smile, she ran out the door and down the stairs. Within ten minutes, she had the library table scattered with journals, parchment, and inkpots, sipping her first cup of coffee and munching on a biscuit.

She worked through the night, astonished at how the key worked. She only had to visualize a rune and press her fingers to the parchment before the letters and figures would rearrange themselves, bringing the character in question to the top of the page. Scribbling furiously to untwine the symbols she had been staring at for months, she felt her mind spinning with the thrill of working on a problem, all thoughts and worries about Oliver and Theo slipping away.

Once the sun's rays began peeking through the large windows, she checked her progress. She'd translated a full page of Tolbrette's journal, a rate almost five times faster than her normal speed. Elation swelled through her — until her eyes caught the remaining journals.

She was only inches closer to deciphering all of it. And there was still the issue of all the missing pages. She'd have to fill in the blanks to reconstruct their spells. Shaking out her cramping hand, she frowned down at the journal. One page, one step at a time. After four hours, she rubbed her eyes and finally called it a night, slumping up to her room and falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.