A Forbidden Birthright

Chapter Eleven

Sunday morning came, and with it an owl from Nikolai saying he would be stopping in later that afternoon. Aside from the evening he had joined her for coffee after the event they had attended together, they had not seen each other, and she was grateful he invited himself over. He had been on her mind since her discovery of Caspian and Draco, and after exhausting herself and her personal resources, Nikolai was her next best option.

Durmstrang was known for teaching dark arts directly, and Nikolai was well acquainted with the fundamentals of dark magic. There were many nights where their conversations between glasses of wine turned to the morality and ethical arguments of dark magic, as well as the history of it and the witches and wizards who had practiced it through the ages. If there was anybody she could confess to, it was Nikolai, and she did not doubt he would offer her an insight that she had somehow managed to miss.

Her night had been restless, her stress robbing her of any substantial sleep, and after a mug of tea by the lake that morning and receiving word of his visit, she fell asleep on her couch. It was his knock on the door that roused her from her dozing. She glanced at the clock to see she had slept deeply for a little over three hours, and her hair was mussed when she opened the door.

"Am I interrupting?" He asked with a raised brow and a grin, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his long brown overcoat. A knit hat rested atop his head. The air was growing colder sooner than usual despite it only being the first week of September.

"You caught me napping, is all," she said and ushered him inside.

He lifted off his cap and took off his coat, throwing them over the back on a nearby chair. "I'm sorry to have woken you. I see you got my owl." The bird, Nim, preened on the sill of a window.

"Don't be sorry," she said as she grabbed two mugs out of a cabinet. "I didn't sleep well last night is all. What did you want to come by for?"

"Do I need a reason to see my one and only Hermione?"

She snorted in amusement, pouring hot water into each mug after offering him a variety of teas and he selected an apple spice. Fitting for the season. The tea bags bopped in the water, darkening it with flavor. "Sugar or honey?"

"Honey, please."

He followed her into the living room and settled on the couch she had just been sleeping on, taking the mug from her while muttering his thanks, staring out the massive paned windows the made up the wall opposite of which he sat. Clean and clear, and charmed to only be seen through from the inside, he gazed out at the autumn woods.

"I see you've been busy," he said, noting the books strewn about the room.

"Actually, I'm glad you've come," she began. "Is there truly no other reason you have for visiting me? Because I have something I need to talk with you about and I don't want to overshadow anything you've come to say."

"I simply had a rare Sunday free and decided to drop in. You may take up as much of my time with any subject you please," he replied with a wink.

"I suppose I should start with a confession then," Hermione said nervously, despite knowing her recent readings wouldn't offset him.

"Confess away."

She flicked her finger and the grimoire slid out of its place on the shelf and floated down towards him, setting itself on the table in front of them. Its title gleamed. Grimorium Verum. She held her breath as he read it.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, his voice tight and serious, almost unnerved.

"Are you angry I have a dark grimoire?" She asked, pulling at the threads of her sweater.