Ravenclaw HoH, Drabble, Prompt: She should not have buried it in the woods., WC: 463
AU in which a group called the "Black Tribe" have overpowered much of the world, casting it into darkness. Instead of splitting souls, they are collecting them and using the magical potency of the soul to help them take down the Light, and the Order of the Phoenix.
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She should not have buried it in the woods.
That much was clear now. Alas, she hadn't had a choice then.
Just three years ago, the Black Tribe had come for her, as they had with so many others. They had come to take her soul, and the only thing she could think do was to put it somewhere no one would have expected. Of course, it required a huge amount of magical energy, but she had done it to protect herself and others from their growing strength.
The Black Tribe was a dark force of power rolling through Eastern Europe from the old congregation of Death Eaters in Iran. They had discovered that, instead of splitting the soul by killing, it was better to collect souls. This would give them much more power.
They had already taken so many.
Mrs. Weasley was gone, Luna Lovegood was gone, her parents were gone.
When the soul was removed, the person ceased to be. It wasn't like the Dementors, but the souls were ripped from their bodies, and life left them in a fell swoop. Barely seconds afterwards, they crumbled into ashes and dust.
Hermione felt like she was the only one left. She had thought that, if she removed her soul herself, carefully, it would prevent the Black Tribe from claiming it. That, perhaps, she would work just as well without it.
She had been wrong.
Hurriedly, quietly, she scrambled her way through the brambles, trying to remember exactly where she had buried it. Her feet crunched the leaves below, and her cloak caught on twigs decorating the earth. The air was cool, so she pulled her cloak tighter around her body to no avail.
There.
Between two oak trees, a slight redness of the soil, only visible to the being who cast the spell. That was where she had buried it. Hermione drew her wand from her pocket and uttered a quick spell to unbury the soul.
It had been a silly idea to bury it, rather than keep it on her person. She had felt different ever since it had left her body. Strange. Disconnected. She hadn't stopped thinking about the wood where she'd left it. It had always been lingering in the back of her mind. She needed it more than ever, now. A battle was brewing on the borders, and she would be stronger having the soul with her.
Now, it was time for it to return to her body.
Glowing in the middle of the dark soil, pulsing in time with her heart. She was captivated for a moment, staring at the almost gold light of it.
Suddenly, and all at once, she was absorbed by the brightness of it, as it burst its way back to her chest.
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Thanks for reading!