Chapters 151-160

Sempiternal Solution

‘I think you might find the Pomet manuscript and the Device grimoire helpful,’ Ollivander said as he rose from his seat.

‘Pomet?’ Hermione asked. ‘But I’m already working with the Pomet manuscript—for my Charmed Potions work!’

Ollivander halted and smiled at her gently. ‘You only have access to the Hogwarts copy. I admit that it is a fair copy, sufficient for most scholarly purposes. But it isn’t quite complete. I own the original. I am sure you will find it enlightening, Madam. Especially the glosses.’

Her cheeks burning, Hermione cleared her throat with an awkward ‘Hrmpf.’

‘If you will follow me, please? The documents you need are in the library upstairs.’

oooOooo

To Hermione’s delight, Ollivander’s library was accessed via his upstairs workshop.

‘Orderly chaos’ was the term that jumped to her mind as she entered behind the wandmaker.

In front of two large windows a wooden table ran across the entire width of the room. It was equipped with all kinds of wand-making tools: knives, drills, chisels, saws, vices, sandpaper and whet-stones, awls and long, hooked needles. Floating shelves between the windows held various vials of varnish and oils, and jars with bees-wax. Old jam jars contained an assortment of brushes. From a pole under the tabletops pieces of polishing cloth dangled like nappies from a clothesline.

In a corner stood a small lathe, and a narrow table with a variety of vices and three big tins of different kinds of glue.

Two huge cabinets dominated the left side of the room. One held assorted tins, jars, and boxes. Although their sizes varied, three shapes made up the majority of these supplies. The other was made up of many drawers, all of them labelled in a spidery handwriting with the names of woods, from acacia to yew.

The air was rich with the scent of wood, varnish and wax, and the spicy taste of magic.

‘The library is this way,’ Ollivander interrupted Hermione’s open-mouthed reverie. The old wandmaker led her into a long, narrow room left of the workshop. The left and the right-hand wall were covered with shelves from the floor to the ceiling. At both ends a small window offered some natural light. Near the front window a fat wingback chair beckoned for cosy reading, while at the back a neat desk was very inviting indeed to her scholar’s eyes.

Ollivander moved quickly and quietly among the shelves, taking down a volume here, plucking out a scroll there. A few moments later, he left everything in a neat pile on the desk.

‘I am afraid I cannot allow you to take the manuscripts with you,’ Ollivander said. ‘They are too valuable. But you will find a new quick-copy quill in the drawer of the desk over there. Feel free to copy any passages that are relevant for your project. I’ll be down in the shop if you need me. Genevieve will be in the workshop later. Take all the time you need.’

oooOooo

Hermione read.

The grimoire of Jennet Device, Wandmaker of Pendle Forest, was already an old source, written in the 17th century, completed shortly before the witch’s hanging after trial by the Inquisition. But Jennet referred to yet another manuscript, a much older work from the 11th century, the original manuscript of one Joffrey Pomet, apothecary, maker of fine potions, and Charms Master in Godric’s Hollow. And quite possibly the person who had helped the Peverell brothers create their ‘bridge’ over the River of Death.

‘Sempiternal Solution,’ Hermione murmured into the quiet of the Ollivander’s library. ‘A potion that enhances the powers of wands. It strengthens the inherent affinities of wands and allows them to share their power. Wands joint by this Charmed potion may form an endless connection.’

She frowned at the parchment. ‘“I am sure you will find it enlightening, Madam. Especially the glosses.” Enlightening indeed! I only wonder just how “endless” this connection is…’

Could this be the answer to her question? Could a potion possibly create a link between Life and Death that could keep the Veil itself parted?

She squinted her eyes at the crabbed writing and the list of ingredients.

‘“Powdered horn of a hornless unicorn?!” Is that a joke?’ Annoyed, she forked her fingers through already dishevelled hair. Her heart pounded.

What if it wasn’t a joke?

oooOooo

‘I think I’ve got something,’ Hermione called out as soon as she burst through the door of their dungeon quarters.

‘So do I,’ replied Severus calmly. His words stopped her just a foot inside the library. He had obviously been waiting for her, although the fireplace was cold, the neat stack of wood and kindling untouched, just like the snifter of brandy on the coffee table between the two wingback chairs.

‘Oh.’ Hermione took in Severus’ serious demeanour and the cold discomfort of the darkening library. ‘Do you want to go first?’

For a moment he looked at her in silence. It was difficult to make out any kind of expression in the stern contrasts of black and white that made up his face. Definitely sombre. But that mood fit these days to a nicety. What else was there? Regret?

Her stomach rolled. There was so much she wanted to say. But as he’d probably not appreciate one word of it, she clenched her teeth, remained silent and simply looked back at him.

‘Vector and Trelawney have determined the most providential and auspicious date (whatever that may mean) for my—and Harry’s—suicide mission. We shall endeavour to cross the Veil in the night between the 5th and 6th of January.’ His tone was soft, almost gentle, as she’d heard it only once before.

‘I wish I could say “Don’t go”,’ she whispered.

‘And I wish I could reply with “Then I’ll stay”. As it is…’ He gave a minute shrug. ‘What did you want to tell me?’