Moonlight shone through her window, creating serenity on her dorm room floor. Hermione's window was the only one open, an artful disparity to the rest of the room, especially with the pitch black darkness of the deeper areas not affected by the moon.
Hermione was awake. She was sitting on her bed, her knees against her chest. She wasn't depressed at the moment – just peaceful. Enjoying the silence in a space crowded with the bodies of other sleeping girls. She felt very alone. Often, that was a bad feeling. In the peace of the night, when nothing but moonlight had awoken her, it was very different.
She sat for a long while. Thinking. It was like a routine to bring the calm of this moment into something deep and lingering, so that she would not feel anxious in the noise, excitement, and panic of the day in the sun.
When there was no sound about, that was time for planning.
She couldn't allow herself to stay heartbroken over what had happened to her just last night. If she didn't get done what needed to get done, more and worse traumas would surely be in her future.
The coming weekend she planned to sneak out. Later than she would have liked, but the best opportunity. It was a large, connected lump of time and during a weekend, she would be a great deal less observed.
What to do during that weekend was what she was currently deciding.
Freeing Sirius was necessary, certainly, but perhaps an overlarge project to be taken on so soon as a week. Azkaban, after all, was inescapable but for that time in third year. Without prior knowledge of the place, knowledge that would be immensely difficult to get a hold of, it was far too risky an expedition. Outside help was out of the question. She'd wouldn't trust authority after Harry had to die. That was riskier than anything else.
So the Horcruxes were her best bet.
Hufflepuff's Cup, Nagini, and of course Harry were temporarily out of the question.
The diary was a possibility, but she didn't know where it was in the Malfoy home and fully expected it to be in some way guarded.
The ring had destroyed Dumbledore's hand. He did say that was because of his own foolish mistake to wear it, but Hermione didn't know if that was the whole story. Furthermore, it would be guarded by dangerous traps.
The locket was a very safe option. Kreacher would be her only opposition and that required more acting than action to overcome.
The diadem, of course was safe in the Room of Requirement. Now that... was something she might even acquire tonight.
The moon was still bright and high in the sky. She had time.
Hermione dressed quietly, but quickly, and used a notice-me-not spell on herself and her robes. It certainly wasn't powerful enough to really deter anyone, but it might help her out tonight.
The spell proved unnecessary, as she met no one in the halls. Her heart was racing, pupils dilated, and breathing shallow. She'd snuck out many times before... and never. She was breaking rules tonight. To have people be disappointed in her was once again a great fear.
Back and forth, three times in front of the door.
I need a place to hide something, I need a place to hide something, I need a place to hide something.
Fortunately, the Room didn't seem to care about unconscious thoughts or untrue ones, so when the doors formed, she entered the room of hidden things without a hitch.
She couldn't quite remember exactly where the diadem had been hidden. Down this row was, she was sure, but beyond that... furthermore, it wouldn't be where she remembered it, as when Harry had hidden his text first time around, he'd touched it and moved it. Still, she knew exactly what it looked like, so this effort hopefully wouldn't take all night and she wouldn't be missed in the morning. She didn't want Harry or Neville to worry.
Books, bottles, junk, and even weapons were stacked up high all around her. It was downright claustrophobic, especially in the relative darkness around the light she'd summoned with Lumos. She was looking for a cabinet... it was at least near a cabinet.
She found it.
Without any shine or luster, it wasn't at all a grand thing. The diadem, precious historic item, had sat in this room for years and years, gathering dust. It supposedly had the power to enhance the wisdom of its wearer, but now could never be used, all because of Tom Riddle. The little tiara-like item seemed to Hermione to be in pain. The thought of destroying it made her feel guilty. Wrong. Such a precious, such a powerful thing should be used. For the good of everyone... shouldn't it?
Hermione only realized the thoughts in her head were at least to some degree foreign when she found her hands reaching to touch it. She knew she had been about to place it on her head.
She had vastly underestimated the Horcruxes power.
This one wasn't cursed or trapped. The Horcrux alone made it dangerous and evil.
She raised her wand. It needed to be destroyed. There was a spell... she had researched... in her last life...
Hermione felt dizzy. She felt horrible, like a horrible person. This was a piece of history, an artifact, and she was about to destroy it. Surely... there had to be another way, right?
This precious, precious thing... if she cleaned it, it would be so beautiful.
It would compliment her eyes.
She could find another way, couldn't she?
She was already wise. With that diadem on her head, she'd be even wiser. Wouldn't it be a waste...
All the trinkets...
Hepzibah Smith had stated to the young Tom Riddle that both the cup and the locket had amazing powers she had yet to test.
Imagine... if she could acquire the sword, cup, locket... and with the diadem... the diadem on her head, right where it was...
Couldn't she achieve great things?
In the darkness, Hermione smiled. Her eyes twinkled... catching the light just the round, dusty gemstone on her forehead.
Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.
She could find a way, couldn't she? To preserve this... beautiful gift. She could do more for the world if she had more power.
Maybe she was being arrogant. She was, after all, only a child.
No. Arrogance is okay if you're right, isn't? Hermione nodded and smiled. Was she nodding to herself? That was fine. She could do whatever she wanted.
She would discover everything. She would rid the world of all injustice. She could be a god...
A god...
Hermione shrieked and threw the diadem to the floor, where it made a few clicks and skittered away beneath the cupboard.
A god?! She didn't want to be a god. No, never! She was Hermione – hadn't she just been hating that goddess-woman, the one who caused her most recent pain? She didn't want to be like that. To decide things for people. Power alone wasn't the way, not at all. The diadem needed to be destroyed, no matter how beautiful, powerful, and precious.
She couldn't believe herself.
It hadn't been that bad, last time around, with the locket? Had she lost something of her will since then? She shook her head, trying to shake out the bad and frightening thoughts.
The diadem was on the floor, beneath the cupboard. Hermione knelt down, pressing her face to the floor to try and spot it. It was in the far back corner, almost out of view.
"Accio diadem." She said, pointing her wand at it.
It didn't come.
"Accio... Horcrux. Accio Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem. Accio... ugh!" That wouldn't work. But she didn't want to reach out and touch it. She was afraid of it.
Why on the earth did retrieving it matter? She could destroy it right here, right now.
She pointed her wand, opened her mouth – and her mind went blank.
What... what was that spell? The one she'd researched last time around. When she was filled with regret, she wanted to learn what she could have done, how she could have done better. She made sure! Didn't she...?
But now she couldn't remember.
The diadem. That god-awful diadem must have done this. Like the sorting hat, it could access her mind. The twisted, struggling little diadem. It's mix of light and dark. She was horrified and angry. She pitied it.
She couldn't leave it here, could she? After coming this way... she felt she wasn't thinking straight, but she didn't know what to do. She let out a breath, long and slow. She was going to have to do it, reach out and take the diadem.
As far as she knew, only holding it in her hand had no effect. She deposited the item quickly into her bag and stole away. Her feet pitter-pattered on the stone floor as she almost sprinted away. Once she reached the door, she stopped. She'd forgotten something.
Huffing in frustration, Hermione turned around. She found the vanishing cabinet that connected to the outside world and destroyed.
The reducto meant the castle was safe from intrusions and also made her feel very, very good.
Controlled explosions did tend to have such an effect.
Physically fine but emotionally exhausted, Hermione stalked silently back to the Gryffindor common room and laid down on one of the plush seats to sleep for a while.
Basilisk venom... fiendfyre... and other such things haunted her dreams.
My, did she have a long path to tread.