Death Eaters Daughter

15

Hours passed by before the large fireplace within the lounge room became a deep, dark emerald green as Hermione stepped out from within the flames and into the lounge room, dusting an invisible speck of dust from her light grey plaid pants. The cream long-sleeved shirt she wore tucked into her pants as she held a matching grey plaid jacket over the top of her arm, her brown curls falling in gentle waves just below her shoulders as her chocolate brown eyes landed upon me.

Not sparing the redhead that occupied the other couch a thought, she crossed the room and sat down beside me on the other light brown couch, wrapping one of her arms around my shoulder and pulling me into a hug. The bandages across my shoulder not going unnoticed by her brown eyes, a gentle smile crossing her face as relief flooded her eyes.

"I missed you too, Hermione," George teasingly drawled from the couch he occupied.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes with a smile across her face as she looked over towards the redhead, "Always a pleasure, George."

He only shrugged his shoulders with that same smile across his face, "Your brother told me to say hello," She huffed in amusement, "Though, he comes here often enough that he could've just waited to tell you that himself."

George chuckled lightly, "You know Ron, he always loves to pass a message along."

Hermione nodded her head in agreeance as she turned back to face me, "They wanted to come with me when they found out that I was coming to see you. I think it's only just sunk in that you're alive. Harry and Ron had to drag them from the room."

I arched an eyebrow in confusion, "Why couldn't they come here?"

"We can't risk Mattheo using them to find you, George's house has been somewhat of a safe house for years now."

"And, you're risking me staying here because?" I prompted.

Hermione breathed out a soft sigh, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied me, "You needed somewhere safe to lay low, the spell that Mattheo used is an incredibly ancient and dark form of magic. It's been banned for centuries, far before Horcruxes."

"Ancient? What kind of magic is it then?" George asked as he sat up on the couch, the once casual stance he'd held becoming extremely focused upon the information Hermione was giving.

"I spent days trying to find it and when I did, the name fits it perfectly. It's an ancient form of magic that specialises in the binding of souls, it's called Vezivanje duše, which translates to 'soul binding'."

I sighed in frustration, "So, not only did I die. But, the magic that killed me was extremely ancient and a hell of a lot more dangerous than Horcruxes."

Hermione nodded her head slowly, "Elysian, I spent days within the library at the Ministry and when I came upon that magic, I also found the only recounted way to reverse a binding spell of that magnitude."

My ears perked at that lone piece of information, eyes lighting with keen interest, "What is it?" I ask, praying that she would confirm my theory.

She tilted her head in response, noticing the sudden interest that had flared within my eyes and the hope that lurked within them, "I think you already know," She mused in surprise, eyebrow arching as if to say 'am I wrong?'.

The redhead that had been observing the entire conversation made a low humming sound from the back of his throat, a sound that confirmed what Hermione had asked me, "She suspected as much," Was all he said as his brown eyes landed upon me.

Hermione only nodded her head, eyes filled with wonder and pride as she looked at me before her eyes dropped to the white bandages that covered my collarbone and the scar that would remain-the bandages peeking out from beneath the top of my shirt. Her chocolate brown eyes met my own as she inclined with her head towards the bandages, "May I?" She asked softly, hesitantly.