Chapter 10: More Dreams
Hermione left her parents' house amid many tears and promises to write often. She'd bought them their own masked owl from a small Wizarding row of shops in a nearby town, and her parents had already bonded with the handsome creature. She'd also insisted on purchasing a magical camera—the photo of her parents standing in their orchard, smiling and waving, was going to be placed prominently in her new quarters at Hogwarts.
The return trip was even more grueling than the way there, because now Hermione did not have the same sense of purpose coursing through her. She and Ron wasted as little time as possible at each stop, pausing only to catch their bearings and discard the used Portkeys. Despite traveling for several hours, they arrived back in Devon only an hour or two after departing Australia, at least according to Hermione's watch. The clock in the Burrow simply showed their spoons shifting from Traveling to Home.
Mrs. Weasley hugged them both, trying surreptitiously to look at Hermione's left hand. Hermione excused herself to go freshen up before dinner and she heard Molly round on Ron the minute she started up the stairs.
"Well, did you ask her?"
"No, Mum, I told you, we were there to find her parents..."
Hermione shut herself into her and Ginny's room, leaning against the door and sighing heavily. It wouldn't be pleasant when they broke the news to everyone, but she hoped that she'd still be welcome here. The Weasleys had always accepted her before and she didn't want that to change, but she wouldn't make things harder than they had to be on Ron. If Mrs. Weasley didn't want her around anymore, she would have to accept it. Straightening, she headed to the bathroom to splash some water on her face before joining the family for dinner.
Find me.
The black eyes snapped open, blazing in anger.
Find me, you foolish girl!
The deathly hand reached for her, but Hermione swatted it away. "I'm trying!" she exclaimed, frowning in frustration at the corpse in front of her.
Think, girl! The answer is closer than you realize!
"Oh, that's really helpful," she murmured to herself. "I don't suppose you have anything more detailed to tell me?" The bloodless lips compressed in a frown but otherwise remained silent. Hermione snorted and glanced around the depressing scene. She didn't remember the walls of the Shrieking Shack being quite so blood-splattered.
Find me!
Ignoring her irritating nighttime visitor, Hermione thought back to a few weeks ago when The Dream had started. Had the scene of Professor Snape's death even been as horrific then as it appeared now? Hermione frowned. She didn't think it had been.
Find—
"Are you deliberately making this place more and more disgusting?" she accused the vision before her. He glowered at her but did not answer. Hermione shook herself—now she was attempting to have conversations with dead men in her dreams. Perhaps it was time to admit that the war had wreaked more havoc on her mental health than she'd realized. Glancing around as she started to wake up, Hermione's eye caught a small, glinting something against a far wall.
Think! Find me.
She was already lunging for it, stretching her fingers out for it as The Dream dissolved into nothingness, one last Find me! echoing in her ears.
"The button!" Hermione bolted out of bed, tripping and falling to the floor as she raced to her trunk. "How could I be so stupid?"
"Hermione, what's—" Ginny's sleepy voice was accompanied by her incongruously swift motion to snatch up her wand and check for intruders. Hermione wondered whether they would ever really lose that knee-jerk reaction or not.
"The button, Ginny, why didn't I think of it before? His Horcrux has been right here all this time!" Hermione hastily threw things out of her trunk, digging down to one of the secret compartments on the bottom. Murmuring the spell to reveal the tiny niche, Hermione pulled out the little pouch within and emptied it onto her palm. She stood and spun to face Ginny, holding her hand out to show the other girl.
One shiny, black button lay nestled there, staring impassively up at them.
Hermione could hardly contain her elation. Here she had searched all of his properties, all his possessions, woefully wondering how she would ever find it—and the Horcrux had been securely tucked into her trunk the whole time. A huge grin spread across her face and she gazed at the button with exhilarated reverence.
Ginny was also looking at the button in Hermione's hand, but her expression was much more dubious. In fact, Hermione rather thought Ginny looked like she was trying to suppress a snort.
"Well?" Hermione prodded her. Ginny raised her eyes briefly to Hermione's before returning them to the little button, swallowing loudly a few times before opening her mouth to speak.
"It's just... It's not very prestigious, is it?" Ginny looked questioningly at Hermione, clearly afraid she'd offended her.
Hermione felt her shoulders slump a bit. "No, I suppose not," she grudgingly admitted. But then her spirits lightened when she remembered something Harry had told her. "But they don't have to be, you know. It was only that Voldemort wanted to make a statement with his. He thought they were fitting of his greatness, or something. You could make a Horcrux out of anything."
Ginny nodded slowly and took another look at the button before going to sit on her bed. "Well then. How do we find out if it is his Horcrux? Do you—talk to them, or something?" At her shudder, Hermione suddenly remembered Ginny's experience with the diary of Tom Riddle, and sat down next to Ginny so she could put a hand on her arm. No wonder Ginny had always looked so haunted when the subject of Horcruxes came up.
"They don't all talk," she assured her friend, curling her fingers tightly around the button and trying not to think about the way the bit of Voldemort in Hufflepuff's cup had infiltrated her mind. The visions had been worse than any Boggart, that was for sure. She hadn't even told Ron or Harry about the things Voldemort's soul had forced her to see—it was too personal. Hermione was suddenly, fiercely glad that she'd destroyed the wretched Horcrux with her own bare hands.
The two girls continued to sit quietly for a moment, Hermione basking in the glory of discovery and Ginny gazing at the button with barely concealed disgust.
"What are you going to do?" Ginny asked finally.
"I'm not sure, to be honest," Hermione answered. That was a good question. She couldn't just hold the button out to Harry or Mr. Weasley and ask them if they thought it was a Horcrux—that would result in far too many questions being asked of her.
"Do any of your books—"
"No," Hermione said glumly. "I checked back when I first suspected he'd done it. None of them tell you how to identify a Horcrux."
They lapsed back into silence. It was still early in the morning, so there were no sounds coming from the rest of the house. Hermione wondered whether she should try to keep the Horcrux with her throughout the day or keep it locked up in her trunk.
"I have an idea," Ginny announced quietly. "What if you tried to destroy it—"
"Ginny, no! It would kill him!" Hermione gasped, taken aback at the other girl's uncaring attitude.
"Hear me out! I don't mean you should actually destroy it; I mean try to destroy it. Make it think you're going to stab it with a fang and then—and then it'll fight back, won't it? Then—then we'll know." Ginny's eyes were wide with fright, but Hermione caught the glint of steel beneath.
"That's not a bad idea," Hermione admitted. "I don't have any fangs, though." A small furrow appeared between her brows as she realized that this was a massive oversight. She'd have to search the upper corridors at Hogwarts to see if the fangs she'd dropped to kiss Ron were still lying about. They were highly dangerous, after all, and she didn't want someone who didn't know what they were to happen upon them. Actually, it was lucky she and Ron hadn't accidentally stepped on one while they were kissing. At that moment, she hadn't been thinking of anything else but the very real possibility that she would lose Ron forever—
"Something else, then," Ginny urged, interrupting Hermione's reminiscence. "Harry told me Crabbe set some kind of fire in the Room of Requirement."
"Fiendfyre," Hermione murmured, thinking. "It's unpredictable, though, and horribly dangerous. It killed Crabbe." She eyed the little button speculatively. "Then again...maybe all I have to do is really think about using it, and his soul will resist."
She stood and placed the button on the middle of her bed, nervously smoothing her nightdress over her hips. Picking up her wand, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the incantation for the evil flames. She envisioned engulfing the button in the treacherous fire, watching as it burned and the bit of soul within cried out in agony.
Nothing happened.
Cracking one eye open, she noted that the button remained as still and passive as before. Closing her eye again, she held her wand out as though she was going to cast the spell, this time trying to project her thoughts of killing the Horcrux out into the room so that Professor Snape's soul would make itself known.
Still nothing.
"Here, I'll think it too. I reckon I've got a lot more pent-up hatred towards Snape than you." Ginny joined her in front of the bed, pointing her wand resolutely at the button. "And I wouldn't hesitate to do it," she announced loudly to the little black circle.
For several moments, both girls stood there, trying to convince the button that they harbored ill will towards its contents. Finally, Hermione sighed and dropped her wand.
"You know...I don't think this is working." Her shoulders slumped dejectedly.
Ginny tilted her head and frowned at the button. "You said they can't be damaged by normal spells, right?" Hermione nodded distractedly, her brain already leaping ahead to other ways she might reveal the Horcrux.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Ginny shouted, "Incendio!"
Hermione yelped and scrambled away from the small burst of flame that erupted on the bed. "What are you doing?" she cried out. Hastily, she grabbed a blanket and attempted to beat out the flames. "Help me!" she called. When Ginny rushed forward with an Aguamenti charm, something clicked in Hermione's mind.
"It burned!" she exclaimed, looking at Ginny for confirmation.
"It burned," Ginny agreed, peeling back the blanket so they could examine the charred, slightly melted mess.
"It's not a Horcrux?" Hermione asked, feeling stupid.
"It's not a Horcrux," Ginny confirmed.
Feeling both relieved and deflated, Hermione stared at the ruined bedspread. "I was so sure—"
"You'll figure it out, Hermione." Ginny's confidence in her did little to bolster her mood. The button, it had been in her Dream last night! Surely that meant something. Why else would one little button have escaped the rest of the mayhem in the Shrieking Shack? Why had she been drawn to it as she exited the trapdoor that fateful night? Putting her head in her hands, Hermione felt a familiar anger sweep through her. First Dumbledore, now Professor Snape. She was so tired of being left ill-fitting puzzle pieces by brilliant wizards.
That evening found Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley offspring (minus Percy, who was busy working overtime) traipsing down the lane into Ottery St. Catchpole. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had shooed them out for the night, ordering them to go into town and have a good time "just being young people." George had mentioned some sort of local singing bar that he and Fred used to visit, so they'd headed off after dinner.
The boys were due to start Auror training the next day, so it was their last night of freedom before the grueling process turned them into full-fledged Dark magic fighters. Personally, Hermione didn't think it was going to be anything like their unstructured fight-or-flight experiences in the past, but she didn't want to say anything of that nature to the boys. They were looking forward to it, and for once she would bite her own tongue off before she said anything to spoil their excitement.
As the Burrow disappeared from view, they saw a girl with flowing blonde hair bent over peering into a tree trunk. She straightened when they approached and tucked a small dragonhide bag into her pocket.
"Good evening. Lovely night for fairy-gathering, isn't it?" Luna fell into step beside Ginny, and Hermione couldn't suppress a smile.
"Is your house fixed, then, Luna?" Hermione asked tentatively. Since she had been primarily responsible for blowing it up, she felt she ought to at least ask how repairs were coming along.
"Oh, no," Luna said airily. "Daddy's been working on restoring his printing press, so most of the walls are still gone. It's been wonderful for stargazing at night."
"Er, that's great!" Hermione said, unsure whether she should offer to help repair the house or not. Luna merely nodded, so Hermione looked to Harry and Ron for support. Both boys just shrugged, clearly as confused as Hermione was.
"Dad said we ought to be able to come over for a few hours this weekend and help out," Charlie spoke up. "Between our dads, me, Bill, and George, we should have it all back together in no time."
"How nice," Luna answered, sounding supremely unconcerned about the state of her house.
Conversation began to splinter among different pairs then, and Hermione strolled companionably next to Ron and Harry as they neared the little village. George led them to The Weasel & The Moon, an aged little building in the heart of town. Hermione laughed at the name—apparently the Weasley and Lovegood families had lived in this area for centuries, if their names had become part of the Muggle culture.
Stepping inside, Hermione was pleasantly surprised. The interior of the building was much cleaner than she had been expecting, and a signboard above the bar listed a handful of meals available from the small kitchen. At the back of the room, a small stage boasted a single microphone and a machine that Hermione recognized from another child's birthday party once when she was younger.
"You didn't tell me this was a karaoke bar!" she said to George. One side of his mouth tipped up a bit.
"Didn't know it had a name," he answered. "Fred and I..." He trailed off and looked down at the floor for a moment. Hermione put a hand on his arm and he returned his gaze to hers. "Fred and I used to come here to laugh at the singers. Then one night we tried it, and we were hooked. Came here every night the summer after fifth year."
"I expect to hear you sing for us at least once, then," Hermione teased him. George smiled sadly at her and moved to sit in one of the far booths. She realized then that they must have done duets when they came. She grimaced and resisted the urge to smack herself on the head. Way to be insensitive, Hermione.
"I'm going to get drinks, want anything?" Ron asked from behind her.
"Just a soda for now. Thanks." Hermione joined George, Bill, and Charlie at the booth, scooting over to make room for Ginny and Luna. They listened to the singers while they idly chatted about nothing in particular. A few times Hermione noticed George almost smiling, and she breathed a sigh of relief to see him starting to come back to himself. The fact that he was here, where he had so many happy memories of his twin, spoke volumes for how far he'd come since the final battle.
Harry and Ron joined the group, mugs of various beverages clutched in both hands. They toasted the boys for their acceptance to the Auror program. Then they toasted Hermione and Luna for their teaching positions. Then they toasted Ginny, who was going to be Head Girl. Before Hermione knew it, they were toasting everyone in the bar, for progressively sillier things like "successfully wearing mismatched socks" or "looking like McGonagall's grandmother."
Laughing until she was gasping for air, Hermione was grateful when the toasts died down and Charlie suggested someone should go sing. Hermione shook her head at Ron's pleading look—she was not about to embarrass herself in front of everyone. Ginny dragged Luna up to the stage and the two girls examined the song list. When it was their turn, a Spice Girls tune filled the air, and Hermione clapped wildly as Ginny sang along and Luna...did whatever Luna was doing. Hermione supposed Luna probably thought she was harmonizing, but honestly, she was just singing notes both off-key and off-tempo. Still, it was wonderful to see her friends happy after everything that had happened, and Hermione relaxed against Ron's side as she listened. He looked down at her and smiled before throwing his arm around her shoulders.
Sighing contentedly, Hermione selfishly wished that her life could be no more complicated than it was at this very moment: laughing with her friends and curled into the comfort of Ron's arm. But life was complicated, and she couldn't just hide away forever, much as she wanted to sometimes. In a few weeks, she'd be facing down hundreds of students as she attempted to teach them Potions. She'd be charged with caring for Slytherin House, a task that no doubt would have daunted even the most determined of Gryffindors.
Most dauntingly of all, she'd be searching for the Horcrux of one Severus Snape, and then trying to reunite his soul with his body.
Trying not to groan when she thought of all the work that would entail, Hermione sat up, pulling away from Ron. Since they hadn't told the others of their break-up yet, it was necessary to act the same as they had been, but somehow it didn't seem fair to Ron to keep touching him all the time. She couldn't use him as a safety net, no matter how much she wished to continue to draw comfort from him.
Ginny and Luna finished their song to much applause, and a band took to the stage and began to play. Ginny drew Harry out of his seat and onto a small dance floor with her. Charlie grabbed Luna and spun her around, her hair flying away from her head as she laughed and danced merrily. The band was very energetic, and Hermione couldn't help tapping her foot as she enjoyed the music.
She smiled at Ron when he stood, but her smile froze when he held out a hand for her. Hermione looked at him curiously.
"Come on. Dance with me." His grin was infectious and Hermione found herself putting her hand in his to follow him to the cramped dance floor. Ron pulled her close and Hermione put her worries aside as they danced to the frantic pace of the music. For the next half hour, their group dominated the dance floor, happily forgetting the horrors in their recent past, at least for a little while.
Find me.
The tails of his robes snaked around her ankles, tightening as they pulled her inexorably closer to the rotting body.
Find me!
The insidious black cloth wrapped tighter and tighter as it crept up her legs.
Time is running out. Find me!
"WHY DON'T YOU HELP ME THEN?" she cried, scared and frustrated and so, so sick of seeing him this way every night.
Think.
His command woke her, and Hermione groaned softly as she flopped onto her back in the bed. This was really getting out of hand. While she'd been in Australia, The Dream seemed less—intense, somehow, as though the physical distance had something to do with the strength of her vision. Now that she was back, however, the disgruntled form of Professor Snape was sharper than ever, and Hermione was at a loss.
"Him again?" Ginny whispered, startling Hermione.
"Did I wake you? I'm so sorry, Ginny! I'll go sleep downstairs..."
"Don't be ridiculous. I was just coming back from meeting Harry, anyway." Hermione heard the sheets rustle from Ginny's direction, and then a soft weight pressed down on the end of her bed. "What do you think it could be? We've got to find out, or else you'll never be free of him."
Hermione huffed out a breath. "I know. I've racked my brain, though, and I just can't think of anything that he would have felt was safe enough to entrust with a piece of his soul!"
"Hm. Let's focus on what we do know. It had to be small enough that it was on his person but not visible the night he killed Dumbledore, right? And it had to be something he could have hidden away right after, something that wouldn't look suspicious." Hermione appreciated Ginny's approach but so far the other girl hadn't touched on anything Hermione hadn't already thought about a million times. Nevertheless, she played along.
"It was probably something he valued, or something he knew someone else would value. If it was just an old shoe, it might have gotten tossed out." Hermione's brain whirred in the darkness as she allowed her thoughts to go where they may.
"So, it was small, valuable, inconspicuous. What would Snape have valued, anyway? His Death Eater mask?"
"No, he wouldn't have taken pride in that," Hermione mused. She couldn't be positive, but she was convinced that he would not have relished his participation in Voldemort's ranks after Lily's death.
"Wait a minute. Didn't you say Dumbledore heard his ghost was in the Forbidden Forest? Why don't we just go ask?" Ginny asked excitedly.
"I thought about it, but...I don't know, Ginny. It seems like I ought to at least have an idea of his Horcrux before I go hunt his ghost down. I don't think he'd be too pleased with me if I showed up and said, 'Hello, Professor; I suspect you made a Horcrux but I've no idea what it is or where it might be. Oh, and I'm sorry I left you to die. Well, good to see you!'"
Ginny snorted softly and muttered something that sounded like "serves him right." Hermione couldn't explain it, but she felt like a test had been set before her, and if she went to Professor Snape without this critical piece of information, then she would fail. She also strongly suspected that the spirit of Severus Snape would not reveal himself unless he sensed the presence of his precious Horcrux. She knew he would never stand about and answer her questions unless she'd proven herself worthy by finding the Dark object first.
"He was smart, Ginny; maybe he used a prized book, or perhaps a gift from a treasured student, or—or—"
Ginny said something else, but all Hermione heard was a dull buzzing sound. At once her stomach dropped to her feet and her heart began to pound loudly in her ears. She sat up slowly, sluggishly, her entire body refusing to cooperate as her mind alighted on a new idea.
"My assignment," she whispered, the words taking a long time to form on her lips.
"What? Hermione, I didn't hear what you said." Ginny shook her shoulder, then again, harder. Hermione turned to look at her friend and felt like a Muffliato had been cast between them, so loud was the rushing in her ears.
"My assignment," she said again, louder this time. "I was thinking of a gift he might have received from a favorite student, and then of course I thought about how much he disliked me as a student, and it just hit me—why did he give me an Outstanding on one paper? Only one. My whole time at Hogwarts, I only ever got Acceptables, and that's when he was feeling generous and not handing out Poors." She stopped to take a few deep breaths, certainty settling over her like a cloak. "He knew I'd keep it, the bloody git; it had nothing to do with my work at all! He—he gave me a piece of his soul on my ruddy homework assignment!"
Hermione leapt to her feet and started to pace. "And he was right, too, the arrogant man—I did keep that assignment, even though it hardly mattered anymore! Harry and Ron tried to get me to burn it, but no, I had to keep it, I was so proud of it. I locked it away in my parents' house; I was afraid I'd lose it and then who would believe me that Professor Snape gave me an Outstanding? Ooh!"
She smacked a fist against her open palm in frustration and embarrassment. He'd been able to read her like a book. He'd manipulated her so easily and she hadn't even realized it until now. When she found his ghost—and she was going to—she had some stern words for him, yes indeed. She locked eyes with Ginny and the girls shared a look of feminine indignance. They spent the next hour deciding what Hermione's plan of action should be, finally falling asleep where they sat side by side on Hermione's bed.
A/N: The music I listened to exclusively while working up this chapter was Grouplove's Tongue Tied - it seems really fitting for Ron and Hermione, somehow. I have finally taken my licensing exam and begun to return to the land of the living. I also managed to massively fail at NaNoWriMo, so now I'm going to focus on fanfic once again, and Tenacity is at the top of the list!
Thanks to Jemmenuie, WeasleySeeker, and katie9635 for beta reading this chapter. As always, I am not JK Rowling and make no claims to own Harry Potter. ...Much as it pains me.