Hermione passed by the rows of items and headed towards a trunk that had been laid flush against the farthest wall who knew how many hundreds of years ago. A simple press of her finger against the latch led towards another drip of blood that unlocked the tumblers and popped open the lid. She sucked the pricked digit and mused for the barest second on all the little things Salazar had hidden away behind blood-locks and wards. Sure, one could never be too careful, but there had to be