7She was a punishment for Mankind, in the form of a seductive woman by the name Pandora. Gifted with a box instructed for her to never open and the first feminine curiosity, she thought of Zeus' orders as a hoax.
And then she opened the box, unleashing all the miseries and evilness within its corners. The world was suddenly opened to the worst things a god was able to give and the dreadful evils that rushed eagerly from the jar in a black stinking cloud like pestilent insects - sickness and suffering, hatred and jealousy and greed, and all the other cruel things that freeze the heart and bring on old age.
And when she closed the lid, it was already too late, too much was released and nothing was left inside the box that once concealed the cruelty and malice the world has now. Yet, amidst everything bad that was released, a good thing came with it: the spirit of Hope.
Sometimes, she believed that she was Pandora. Not in the form of a seduction, heavens no, yet, in the sense that she was the ultimate reason for dread and misery. Not to forget her petty curiosity, this did lead to the main highlight of her story—as well as those of Pandora's.
One might say that she was crazy when she left the famous Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter in the midst of battle and pursued her career as an Unspeakable; furthermore, they might even contemplate on her sanity the moment that she entered the forbidden chambers from morning until midnight. People talk behind her back, saying that she might have been on the edge the moment that she made the decision of career before life... of selfishness and not selflessness.
After all, so much was expected from Hermione Granger. But all those hopes and dreams made for her by the Wizarding World vanished the moment that she enclosed herself within the tight spaces of surrealism.
Hermione was inclined to her job, just like how Pandora was inclined to her box. And Hermione knew, the moment that he landed as her assignment, that she would do a disastrous thing.
He was the main reason of her isolation, and despite all those words spat at her face about her being a coward, she knew that she faced the greater danger.
And just like Pandora, Hermione paid no heed to her instincts… and followed her thirst for knowledge and answers.
He stood there before her, like a Prince Charming from a distinct fairy tale. He was handsome, dashingly so, tall and pale. Contrary to what she had pictured him to be, he was quite the decent-looking bloke. With his ebony hair and misty eyes, as well as those full lips and well-chiselled nose, one would be enraptured by his charm the moment she laid eyes on him.
Yet, Hermione was never one of those who were inclined to idealistic fantasies.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle." She whispered amongst the silence.
Cool, steel eyes rested upon her frame and a smirk graced his stony, yet beautiful, face. He muttered something she could not comprehend for she stared longingly at the figure of his best friend's sworn enemy with curiosity. Pure, plain curiosity.
And when his robes billowed against the stale air, she watched him as he retreated into the darkness of the chamber.
He was the only part of Lord Voldemort's soul that she knew that was not considered a Horcrux. And as Hermione gazed at the dark alleyway where he took his leave, she knew how alike she was to Pandora once more.
Because she has already found her box.
Her tasks were simple: study and destroy. Unspeakables were trained to be very enigmatic personas, thus, enabling them to study the most crucial (and somehow illegal) complexities that aroused the Wizarding World.
And this living piece of his soul was one of those things.
She was never a woman of secrets. The moment that Tom had demanded why she continually visited him, she gave him answers. She told him of her two tasks with an unwavering voice and watched in amusement as his expressions changed because of her words.
She also told him that she was above all, curious. And when Tom asked her in what way was she probing, she just shrugged and took down notes of his behaviour.
It had been exactly three months and twenty four days since she first started her study, yet it seemed that her curiosity was never sated.
They had talked, mostly about books and events. Tom asked questions about what had happened to him and Hermione provided answers in complete details. The air of superiority left the dingy room after rows of encounters, yet silence seemed to be a daily visitor. A shelf filled with tomes was provided on the far-left and the pair always found the tranquillity and calmness books provide as something that is lasting and comfortable.
Hermione was never able to make progress in her research aside from the observations she took notice of. He liked to tease her with petty names such as Mudblood, yet it never unnerved her since she knew his nature right before he uttered that insult to her face. He absentmindedly twirled her hair whenever she did her research on him and a remark about how bushy it was always followed. They both immersed themselves within the pages of the books.
Hermione stopped and stared at her observations. They were all his responses to her; all about their interactions and taunting.
The corners of her mouth quirked upwards. Pandora. She remembered while the smell of old parchment wafted through her nostrils. I really am like her.
We are both selfish.
"Are you sure about this, Hermione?" Walter Weitzman, head of the Department of Mysteries, questioned her with a sceptical glance.
Hermione glanced at the spinning teacup on his desk, contemplating on what she would answer. It was no use for lies, since Walter knew all too well every crease her face makes whenever she decided to hide the truth.
"No."
"Then, why are you showing me this?" Walter is pushing all the buttons for answers, answers she never had.
Hermione grabbed the rolls of parchment from his grasp and stood. Walter watched her calmly as she made her way out of his office. Yet, before she turned the knob and walked away, he called out to her.
"Granger." His voice was calm yet serious. "I need some answers."
Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Walter." She turned the knob and opened the door. "I don't have the answers you want."
"You're back." He didn't even look up from the thick volume he was reading. "Observe as much as you want."
Hermione laid herself down beside him and did not even utter a greeting. Questions lingered inside her brain and they continuously make her head ache from excessive thinking. She knew that what she was doing was already out of the research scope and was only for sating her curiosity.
It seemed that Tom knew it, too.
"Why do you stay?" He laid the book on the floor and stared at the roaring flames with pure coldness.
Hermione raked her brain for answers, yet there was none. She looked at his composed form and uttered the words that reached her tongue first.
"Why do you?" He was only a soul, a figment of the true beast that lingered still after three years. A phenomenon she was not able to crack, regardless of her vast knowledge regarding the Dark Arts.
Tom smirked. He knew that Hermione knows the answer to her own rebuke. His eyes burned like charcoal with the flames mirrored on his irises and he inched himself closer to the woman seated beside him.
"What do you think?" He searched her eyes with his empty ones.
"The same reasons as mine." Hermione breathed out.
Their lips met.
And Pandora released all the misery and evil into the world. And when she planned to close the lid, it was already too late.
Some people might even contemplate on her sanity the moment that she entered the forbidden chambers from morning until midnight. They might even call her a lunatic or someone completely mental.
Yet, when Hermione Granger was reported missing after a day's work, gossip boomed everywhere—starting from people's mouths until the pages of the Prophet. Walter Weitzman decided to remain silent about Hermione's disappearance, which only triggered more gossip amongst the deceitful claws of reporters. However, the Department of Mysteries continued to stay silent about the issues bombarding them…and eventually, they were left alone.
After all, no one really knew what has become of the brightest witch of their age. The only traces that they were able to find were her old rolls of parchment on her desk which accounted her research regarding Tom Riddle's fragment of a soul. No one dared to look at the contents of her work, no matter how tempting it may be, for the sole purpose of showing her the respect that they intended to give her in the first place.
That was until Terry Boot decided otherwise.
And that was the start of the endless discoveries regarding the soul. That the fragment that was left behind was no way a Horcrux since it was what was left unintentionally by the caster. Hermione's records proved to be strong evidences regarding the study of such dark magic and as the years passed by, they were able to identify the true nature of the soul and the darkest depths that one must contain in order to do such a gruesome act.
With Hermione's disappearance, she had brought hope to the people who lived on to fight. She had provided the answers concealed within the soul of a monstrous beast that was bound to be destroyed.
After all, she was just like Pandora.
She had opened her box and released all the truths regarding the evil that lies within. Yet, in between, she had also given them hope.
The same hope that left Pandora's box.
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