"So she's a little bit like some kind of... Not a tool, because she's a person, but a means of using it like a wand? A conduit, maybe, for the raw power we have, just like what we use our wands for." She nods her head, thinking about it. The hands in her hair are comforting and she lets herself have a moment of thought. "I know how to use my shard to make myself a little stronger, but I haven't been practising much - I learned from Lancelot and we've both been a bit busy."
Leaning back a little, she makes a noise, squeezing the bone one.
"Did you make them, Harry? Do you think you could show me how, if you did - and could we enchant the other ones, the ones that aren't bone?" Always eager to learn, always wanting to have as much as her service as she can.
"She's a Revenant. I say she's a person, so do you, but everything we've found and read says she's a weapon." He pauses, adjusting how he's holding the brush and her hair. Harry isn't good at talking about these sorts of things, and his voice is soft when he speaks, "I can't let that happen to her."
"I did make them." Grateful for the topic change, he continues on. "But they need to be bone, and bone from the animal whose traits you want to use."
"It's not that simple, then, is it. She has feelings, she has thoughts, she has dreams, surely? Just because people say she's something doesn't mean she is. She's your friend, Harry, and that's what's important." Her own voice is soft and careful and she hums as she rolls the beads in her hand.
"Show me? I can work with bone, and animals. It's easier to hunt when I'm in my other form - it doesn't feel as terrible, tracking down animals. It's almost instinct, really."
"She does and she is." He looks at the braid he's done, at the fact that he's in a point where if he lets go, it'll unravel and then decides that what he wants to do is more important. He drops her hair and gives her a quick hug. "We're bound up so tight that it scares me. I've been trying to research what it all means, but with the library gone, I'm not having the luck I'd like. If you start to look, let me know, because I'll tell you what I've got. Give you somewhere to start."
"And for the bones, I'll show you. We'll find a good day to go and run around like idiots in the woods."
She turns, wrapping herself around him easily, almost crawling into his lap as she leans close. Her hand touches the back of his head and she shakes her own, drawing him closer and letting herself have him here, gentle and warm in her arms, solid and alive. "I'll look for you, Harry. I'll do as much reading as I can to try and help you. I'll do whatever you need me to do and I won't fail this time. I promise." She leans back, her hands cupping his cheeks before she grins.
"It'll be just like home, then, won't it? I thought we'd had enough of us running around like prats in forests."
"I am an expert at being a prat in a forest. I think it's my true calling," he says with all due solemnity before trying to figure where he was in her braid again. Over? Under? Oh well, might as well unravel and redo it.
"I know, 'Mione, but you're also going to find out some ugly things. Reul is Linn's father and Revenants eat people. Like with the vampires, we've worked out a way to manage that so no one ...well, Linn suffers for it, but the others don't."
"You would say that. You didn't have to carry everything around while we were being prats." It's a joke, of course, considering that her bag wasn't heavy at all, but she settles and watches him all the same, her expression soft. Even as he continues, she keeps herself gently managed, nodding her head.
"Then we'll - I'll read what I can. I'll do whatever I can, Harry, to make it easier for the both of you." She isn't comfortable about it, happy about it, about Harry being tied with something (someone, she reminds herself) that eats people to survive, but he knows how she feels about it. She's sure about that. "We'll figure it out."
"I know we will. We always do." After deciding that the braid is done well enough, he taps at her hand for the beads. "And, you know, there's a bright side to this whole mess: I might finally trade in that terrible name I keep being called for something with a touch of class, like 'Royal Consort'."
"I will actually hit you if you even joke about that, Harry James Potter." She shakes her head, laughing. "Have you heard my full title lately? It's a little bit of a mouthful, but, really, I'm quite fond of it. I'm really learning about this place." She shifts, settling back against him, opening her hands to offer him the beads back.
"You better teach me everything you learn about magic, too."
"Of course." She might not like what he's learning, but he'll tell it all to her. "Now, you can't hit me while I'm putting these in or I'll drop them, we'll go looking for them, and knock our heads like coconuts."
"It's either joke about it or get business cards that say 'Beware the Dick Lord!' and I can't find a printshop I like."
"It wouldn't be the first time we've done something a little ridiculous, would it? I hope you remember the time I turned myself into a cat - everyone here thinks it's utterly hilarious." Not that she's being petulant, but she sniffs all the same, trying her best to hide it and not let on the fact that it still rather haunts her.
"Joke about it all you want, at least you've got one! Hermione Granger, Marchioness - or Marquis if you prefer - of the White Citadel and Sorceress-Protectress of Caer Glaem is far more of a mouthful."
"You need a false identity. One you can pull on, hide your shard, and then just go out into the crowd." With a hum of thoughtfulness, he decides that the braids are done and her hair is just fine. It's mostly done in a simple series of plaits that will be easy enough to shake out later, but there's one piece that's a bit more tightly bound and that one holds the beads.
"I don't have any way of hiding my shard right now otherwise I might give it a go. Everything about me is a bit obvious now, especially with my new defining feature." She touches her face before she turns, lifting a hand to stroke over the braids before she smiles. "Maybe that should be a boon. A way to hide myself, so I can just be Hermione for a while."
"It's worth it, I think." Harry is quite glad that he's booned himself a way to hide his shard and that Aly had the good sense to tell him to set up another identity. Just in case things go terribly awry, he'll have something to fall back on.
"What name do you think would suit me? Hermione is rather unique all by itself." She shakes her head, biting back her rueful, sheepish little smile. "Maybe Mary, or Susan. Something nice and simple."
"I'm not too sure how common Mary or Susan really are here. Maybe more so in the South." He makes a little noise of contentment and snuggles up against her. "I took the name of one of Moody's favourite owls. Akos, if you hear it, that's me."
"Akos. That's actually really nice." Hermione hums, reaching for his hand again and settling, her eyes flicking closed as she relaxes. "Rowena, maybe? I did almost get sorted into Ravenclaw..."
"It's a good name. Now you just need to find a way to hide your shard, meet
some dis...some more disreptuable people, and then you're set."
Harry takes her hand in his and she can likely feel the callouses from
reins, from hard work, and a few soft scales here and there where he's been
recently nicked.
"Tell me about this Rowena. What's she like? What does she do? Akos is a
tinker and a bit of a thief, got himself in trouble doping ponies."
"I'll have to figure out that part. Maybe I can use a boon on it, or we can learn some spells or something of the sort... I don't know. I'll get around to it, I'm sure, once things have settled down and the monarchs are back from wherever they've disappeared to." She shakes her head, shifting and cuddling against him, squeezing his hand gently.
"I don't know. Maybe she's secretive, helps people when no one's looking. Maybe she's a sneak, too, likes to wear a lot of black."
"Maybe she is. I know she's clever." He feels warm, comfortable, and safe.
It's a much needed break, and he's grateful for it. "Have you thought about
what job you'll want after the war's over? I think I'd be a good tinker. I
can mend pots pretty well, you know."
"I don't know, really. I can shoot a bow, now, and I'm going to get taught how to duel thanks to Aly, but otherwise? It's my magic, as it's always been." Hermione shakes her head. "Maybe I'll be stuck as Marchioness forever."
"Could be. It's hard to lose a title once it's yours. S'why I haven't gone
for one. No lands, no titles." He's had enough of well-known names that are
important for other people. Harry still needs to fight the good fight, but
he can't be so open about it, so brash. "I can't risk it. If...look, no one
wants to hear it, but if something happens, will you try and care for Linn?
I don't know if it'll take, but we did something that worked, that kept her
from Severine, the Fox's miserable daughter. We can't just let her become a
weapon worse than a dragon, worse than a Jabberwock."
"I didn't ask for it, not really. I was second to June and then she ended up disappearing, or going home, whatever it is that happens to us, and now... Here I am. Hermione Granger, Marchioness. I have my house and now, apparently, I have a room at the Citadel and people at my command." Hermione, compared to him, has so much, and she wishes she could share it with him. She wishes she could share her world with him, all of it. She gives him a dirty look all the same, pursing her lips... Before she breathes out. "Of course I will. If she needs anything, Harry, she can ask me. Oh!" She sits up, turning sharply. "I could make her a compass!"
Harry laughs, pressed up against the back of the sofa by her enthusiam.
"We'd share it. Send you notes. Ridiculous pictures of cows that have spots
in funny patterns."
Fairy-instagram. What? He'd still use it for important communication, but
why not send a cow with a spot that looks like Peeves' face.
"That sounds absolutely perfect. I'll make you in a little bit, once I've had my fill of you." And this means that Hermione would have the chance to meet Linn near to face-to-face, as much as they're capable of. Pausing, for a moment, she shifts. "Speaking of animals and ridiculousness, did I tell you that Crookshanks might have a bit of a girlfriend?"
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Leaning back a little, she makes a noise, squeezing the bone one.
"Did you make them, Harry? Do you think you could show me how, if you did - and could we enchant the other ones, the ones that aren't bone?" Always eager to learn, always wanting to have as much as her service as she can.
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"I did make them." Grateful for the topic change, he continues on. "But they need to be bone, and bone from the animal whose traits you want to use."
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"Show me? I can work with bone, and animals. It's easier to hunt when I'm in my other form - it doesn't feel as terrible, tracking down animals. It's almost instinct, really."
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"And for the bones, I'll show you. We'll find a good day to go and run around like idiots in the woods."
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"It'll be just like home, then, won't it? I thought we'd had enough of us running around like prats in forests."
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"I know, 'Mione, but you're also going to find out some ugly things. Reul is Linn's father and Revenants eat people. Like with the vampires, we've worked out a way to manage that so no one ...well, Linn suffers for it, but the others don't."
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"Then we'll - I'll read what I can. I'll do whatever I can, Harry, to make it easier for the both of you." She isn't comfortable about it, happy about it, about Harry being tied with something (someone, she reminds herself) that eats people to survive, but he knows how she feels about it. She's sure about that. "We'll figure it out."
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Harry James Potter, don't you even.
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"You better teach me everything you learn about magic, too."
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"It's either joke about it or get business cards that say 'Beware the Dick Lord!' and I can't find a printshop I like."
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"Joke about it all you want, at least you've got one! Hermione Granger, Marchioness - or Marquis if you prefer - of the White Citadel and Sorceress-Protectress of Caer Glaem is far more of a mouthful."
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"It's a good name. Now you just need to find a way to hide your shard, meet some dis...some more disreptuable people, and then you're set." Harry takes her hand in his and she can likely feel the callouses from reins, from hard work, and a few soft scales here and there where he's been recently nicked.
"Tell me about this Rowena. What's she like? What does she do? Akos is a tinker and a bit of a thief, got himself in trouble doping ponies."
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"I don't know. Maybe she's secretive, helps people when no one's looking. Maybe she's a sneak, too, likes to wear a lot of black."
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"Maybe she is. I know she's clever." He feels warm, comfortable, and safe. It's a much needed break, and he's grateful for it. "Have you thought about what job you'll want after the war's over? I think I'd be a good tinker. I can mend pots pretty well, you know."
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"Could be. It's hard to lose a title once it's yours. S'why I haven't gone for one. No lands, no titles." He's had enough of well-known names that are important for other people. Harry still needs to fight the good fight, but he can't be so open about it, so brash. "I can't risk it. If...look, no one wants to hear it, but if something happens, will you try and care for Linn? I don't know if it'll take, but we did something that worked, that kept her from Severine, the Fox's miserable daughter. We can't just let her become a weapon worse than a dragon, worse than a Jabberwock."
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Harry laughs, pressed up against the back of the sofa by her enthusiam. "We'd share it. Send you notes. Ridiculous pictures of cows that have spots in funny patterns."
Fairy-instagram. What? He'd still use it for important communication, but why not send a cow with a spot that looks like Peeves' face.
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