Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly.

Incoming: Dumbles and Hermie on adventure.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Nightmare

"History... is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."

~ Philip Roth

Friday, October 28th 1977

"Good evening, Professor."

She greeted him determinedly, striding confidently into the now all too familiar room. All day she had been mentally preparing herself for their quest, desperately trying to analyse and go through every possible outcome. This time failure was not an option.

"I see you are quite ready for our little adventure, Miss Edwards." He said a bit absently. It appeared he too was lost in thoughts of the night's awaiting horrors. He hadn't looked at her yet, merely stroking his astoundingly long beard and unconsciously – or consciously, she could never be certain with him – kept his eyes fixed on one of his countlessly bizarre contraptions.

"Quite. I trust you have located the cave?" The question sounded more like a statement, even to her ears, and of course she knew he had found it. As a matter of fact, he had probably already known which cave she had referred to the moment she mentioned it.

He nodded, finally turning to look at her. His twinkling blue eyes were pensive, and she could see his mind was fixed on something else beside the horcrux.

"Good. I do have a few things to voice before our departure."

"I imagined you would." It was scary how one look from him could make her nervous, but she supposed it was only natural he would be aggravated at her avoidance on the topic of horcruxes. She had told him of what awaited them tonight, in fact they had gone over the scenario quite a few times already in the past week, as the need for preparation went unsaid, but she had told him little else of the other elusive objects' location. She could tell it angered him somewhat to be kept in the dark, and perhaps it was petty of her to conduct herself in such a manner, but she needed to be sure of him and his character, before sharing such Intel. He would have done the same, in fact he had done so on multiple occasions with Harry, always keeping him in the dark and refusing to say more than needed. It was almost funny to watch him be on the receiving end for once.

She imagined he didn't find anything about it funny.

She decided to ignore his comment, and although he hadn't said the words in a spiteful manner, she now knew him well enough to know the true meaning behind his words. In a way it was odd to know him on this level, of equal standing, and she wasn't sure how they had come to that point.

"Yes, in case something goes wrong tonight, I believe I ought to tell you of the rest. It's only logical, and now that I have seen you have upheld your end of the bargain, it's only fair to let you know the rest."

"You are far too apprehensive for one your age, Miss Edwards. It saddens me too see, but considering your circumstances it seems only right for you to be so." He told her, his voice laced with feelings of regret and genuine sorrow on her behalf.

It was far too close to pity for her to be appreciative of his sentiments, but for once she wasn't angered by it.

"I can only agree, Professor." She said, her voice void of any emotions. She looked at nothing in particular, wanting only to look at anything but him. "I have mapped out the items and their locations, and I say we divide them between us. Some, I realise, I have no immediate means of reaching, and attempting to do so would require far too much effort on my part. It could be done, but it would require an unnecessary amount of time – time we don't have."

"It sounds reasonable, but as I have said from the start, I can not fathom why you would think it necessary to do it by yourself in the first place."

"That is oddly hypocritical of you to say, Professor. Are you not the same, I wonder?" For a moment she wondered if she had crossed the line, but by his all too familiar look of amusement, she knew he found her entertaining enough to let such a comment pass. To her, it seemed he had come to expect, and perhaps even like, her straightforwardness. She was probably one of a few selected individuals, who were brave enough to speak this candidly to him.

"I am afraid I can not deny your accusations, Miss Edwards, however much I would like to do so." He shook his head, smiling slightly.

"I thought as much." She threw him a shrewd smile. "But back to the matter at hand. I told you of the diary, an item that I have no means of reaching by myself. Currently, according to my calculations, it should be at Malfoy Manor – an honour bestowed on Lucius Malfoy, although the ignorant fool has no knowledge of it's true meaning."

"Surprising, to say the least, but I can see the reasoning behind it." He commented. "Mr Malfoy has always struck me as a foolish young man. Dangerous as of late, but foolish."

"If only you knew half of it, Professor." She commented with a grin. "But no matter. Malfoy will remain a prejudiced fool, and there is no changing that, I'm afraid."

"But back to the case… there is the Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. That is one I will see to, but first I must ask you to set up a meeting with one of the more trustworthy goblins in Gringotts. The cup should be in the Lestrange vault, and I have no intention of letting this one go. I'm afraid this one is personal." She could see his disapproving stare, but matters pertaining Bellatrix Lestrange and her wretched husband? That was hers and hers alone to deal with.

"Next there is the ring to consider – that is one I must ask you to deal with, but heed my words professor, take this lightly and it will be the end of you. There is a horrifying curse on it, and if you touch it without removing the curse beforehand, you will die. I have searched for potential solutions to this unknown curse, both then and now, but I have the feeling you will have greater knowledge on this subject." He nodded, most enthralled by her words, and he appeared more serious than she had ever seen him before. "I'm not sure what tempted you to touch the ring in the first place, Professor, but you must have had your reasons."

For a long time this matter had troubled her mind. She had gone over everything Harry had ever said and explained about the ring, and none of it made sense in regards to Dumbledore touching the ring, touching a horcrux with unknown properties.

Perhaps he really had been as barmy as Ron so often suggested.

She did not allow him a chance to comment. She had a feeling he would find something entirely unexpected upon reaching the ring, but somehow she got the feeling this was something he had to do himself. Albus Dumbledore was a man of many faces; countless of layers containing complexity and who knew what else, and he never did something so rash, unless he had a specific reason to.

She believed no one would ever truly know him.

"The fourth and fifth I can only theorise about, sadly, but I'm confident we will figure it out. We have to. However, the fifth… I did have an inkling- no, I am sure it was Harry, as odd as that might sound. The more I think about it, the more I go through my memories, it seems… right, somehow. The link they shared, it wasn't natural. It would have been 'normal', had the link only gone one way, but it wasn't just Harry who was affected by it." She paused to think on how to voice her theory correctly.

"Harry was the only person to survive Avada Kedavra, and a mother's love shouldn't have been able to shield him from it. It is said the curse rebounded on him when he cast it, but what if he accidentally made Harry into a horcrux in the process, unknowingly?"

"From what you have told me it sounds plausible. We cannot know for sure, but I have theorised about the possibility myself. Your earlier explanation of Harry this year, was by all means unexpected and most unheard of. As for a mother's love, it is a truly powerful thing to behold. The 'rebounding' as you said, that might have been his mother's doing, but it was still not strong enough to shield Harry completely." He stroked his beard again, and she realised this was the first time he had spoken to her like this. He was starting to see she wasn't just some schoolgirl, she was a woman grown, a woman with a mind perhaps as great as his.

"Whatever the reasons, we may never know for sure." He made an 'hmmm' sound, and she deemed the discussion over for now.

"I shall make the arrangements with Gringotts, however I must warn you not to trust the goblins."

"Don't worry, Professor. I don't trust anyone further than I can throw them, especially not goblins. Don't mistake my humanitarian side for ignorance." While she despised wizardkind's intolerance for other races and creatures in general, she had listened to Bill Weasley when he told of prior transactions with goblins. They were cunning and shrewd, and you had to listen closely to their words for potential loopholes.

"Very well then, I trust you will see to this matter. But do remember, Miss Edwards, there is always help for those who asks for it." He shot her one of his famous all-knowing glances, and for once she was more relieved than irritated by it.

.

.

They apparated from Hogsmeade much like Dumbledore and Harry had done in her time, and she imagined Harry must have felt just as nauseated by it as she did. She was usually the one doing the apparating; she was the only one with a license, and certainly the most competent of the three to do it correctly in stressful situations.

The initial nausea had fated over time for her, though the boys always seemed affected by the horrible feeling left by it. At least they hadn't vomited afterwards, but gagging noises were often heard. She knew it was an awful feeling, as if being pulled in every direction at the same time, and she honestly couldn't blame her boys.

This time however, she was the one being brought along, and it wasn't a pleasant experience by any means. She refrained from gagging at the horrid sensations lingering afterwards, but it was not without effort.

It was overwhelming how disorienting it could be, when side-along apparating. And of course Dumbledore was unaffected – as expected of him.

Her dismay soon turned into apprehension, and apprehension turned into steel hard resolve and determination. They had landed on a rocky outcrop at the foot of a cliff, and while there was plenty of space for the two of them, she wouldn't recommend bringing along a third-party.

"Is the entrance far from here, sir?" She looked around, trying to shield herself from the cold winds of October, the occasional spray of salt-water finding it's way towards her face, and droplets of rain starting to appear from the looming clouds of grey above them.

"No, but it will require some effort on our part. There is a tunnel of sorts through the rock further down, but to reach it we need to climb from here. Luckily for us, the tide isn't coming in at the moment, otherwise swimming would be necessary."

"I had hoped to avoid climbing. I'm not the most graceful person, when heights are involved, I'm afraid." She closed her eyes and swallowed heavily. She knew it wouldn't be easy, and she would be damned if something as insignificant as heights would deter her.

"Not to worry, my dear. Should you fall, I will make sure no harm will befall you." Somehow that wasn't quite so reassuring as he intended for it to be. The idea of falling at all, now that was a frightening thought.

.

.

The climb down wasn't nearly as bad as she had expected, and the tunnel was easily found, but the knowledge of what awaited them put a damper on her mood. At least they had been lucky this far.

"How on earth did he find this place?" She asked wryly. The idea of a young Tom Riddle finding this place seemed improbable, yet he had found it nonetheless. She suspected magic had been involved, and knowing him, it probably wasn't anything good.

"Only he knows, I imagine. The purpose however, that is another matter entirely."

"According to Harry, this is where he tormented fellow orphans. How someone can be this brilliant, yet so… childish and irrational at the same time, I can't seem to wrap my mind around it." She shuddered from the cold, and continued into the ominous tunnel, their wands lighting up their way through the dark in front of them.

"Tom was a complex child, always set in his own ways. He decided from a young age that he was above the rules of society. I believe he felt slighted and mistreated by his surroundings." Dumbledore supplied, squinting every once awhile, trying to make out the steep and uneven path.

"There are many unfortunate beings in this world, people and creatures who fares much worse than he ever did. He is nothing more than a narcissistic psychopath, bordering on lunatic."

"Ah, I can only agree, Miss Edwards. He may be sentimental, but it is important to remember his madness, his unpredictability; those are by far the most dangerous qualities."

"I know." And she did, only all too well. She had seen his madness up close, been on the receiving end of his horrifying reign, and she knew exactly how dangerous he was. They continued their search in silence, and she prayed to Morgana this night would be over soon.

A few moments later they reached the entrance to the cave; it appeared both shallow and small, giving the impression that nothing of importance were to be found. A simple concealment charm, but if you weren't looking for it, it was something easily ignored.

Simplicity really shouldn't be underestimated.

She cringed inwardly at the bad vibe, and then winced, as if in pain. She felt the dark magic swivelling around them, begging them to come closer and at the same time trying to push them as far away as possible. It was an odd contradiction, but she understood the wards' need for sacrifice, the thirst after blood, and yet the barrier was there to keep them out. Clearly dark magic wasn't as simple as people were led to believe.

Dumbledore laid a hand tentatively on the wall, and watched the outline of a door appearing, yet when he removed his hand, the image faded quickly.

"It is rather crude of him." He mumbled, obviously referring to the blood sacrifice needed to enter.

"Had you honestly expected any different?" Her brow rose in the dark.

"Perhaps not."

Hermione searched through her trusted, beaded bag for a knife, her whole arm disappearing in her search for the elusive object, and Dumbledore looked at her in wonder again. Honestly, it was a simple extension charm – well, perhaps not that simple – surely he would have thought of the same had he needed a bag with extra space. She ignored him again.

"Ah! Here it is." She exclaimed, when her hand finally got the hold of the blasted knife. She really needed to create some sort of organising spell that wouldn't interfere with the extension charm. It would make her life so much easier.

She drew her little dagger, one she had collected from Bellatrix Lestrange. Some would find it masochistic of her to keep such a reminder on her person, but something had compelled her to take it. Perhaps a part of her had thought that if she took it, then Bellatrix wouldn't hurt anyone else with it. It was a stupid and naïve notion, and she felt silly for even thinking it, but some part of her hoped she had been right in taking it. Obviously Bellatrix didn't need a silly little knife to hurt someone, and if she needed one, acquiring another wouldn't be difficult.

But it was useful now, and that was really all that mattered to her.

Dumbledore eyed the knife with great interest, but said nothing. Still, it was a curious reaction, as if he recognised the bloody knife – no pun intended.

Even when Hermione drew blood, and let the drops fall onto the surface of the rock, he still said nothing, only observing her actions and the appearance of the entry. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. This was it.

"I hope you're ready, Professor, because there is no turning back now."

.

.

They were met with an eerie sight upon their entrance. They stood on the edge of a black lake; so vast and dark, she had to suppress a shudder. Not only was the lake so vast she could barely make out the banks, but the ceiling, too, was high enough to show nothing but darkness. Had they not been wielding their wands, and had there not been a misty greenish light shining in the distance, she imagined the blackness of this place would have resembled death.

This place was crawling with dark magic, and there was a sickly sweet stench that had her on edge. She knew about the Inferi, – obviously – which only amplified her fear of this place. But even though she knew all these things about the cave, it couldn't be helped the way her instincts acted up, how they screamed at her to run away as fast as her legs could carry her.

She glanced in the direction of Dumbledore, only now noticing how quiet he had gone.

"You feel it too, don't you Professor? Death and dark magic."

He didn't say anything at first. He merely looked at the lake, at the blackness, at death looming under the still waters. Then he nodded solemnly, still not saying a word.

They continued along the shore in, what could only be described as, strained silence, not wanting to waste any time. She went ahead of him, carefully making passes in the air over the lake, until her hand came in contact with something solid. She nodded in affirmation to Dumbledore, and quickly moved aside as he grabbed hold of the invisible object. He made a few swift movements with his wand, and ever so slowly a corroded-looking copper chain appeared in his hands. Not long after, the small boat came into sight as well. It seemed to appear out of nowhere, and now came drifting silently towards them.

Both analysed the boat and it's enchantments, and although Hermione already knew of them, she found herself a smidgen offended by what she found. She snorted loud and clear, unable to hold the unladylike sound in. It was no wonder Dumbledore eyed her curiously. She turned to look at him and started to explain, rather irked by her findings.

"It is enchanted so only one wizard of age can be transported across the lake." She stated.

"Yes, very clever of him, I should say." He nodded.

"Clever?" She said, incredulously. "I think not! But it's a pity for him."

"How so?" He appeared very interested in what she had to say. She knew there were plenty of loopholes in Voldemort's enchantment, and obviously Professor Dumbledore, too, had his theories.

"He's apparently quite the chauvinistic pig, Professor, who would have thought? I imagine he didn't count on any witches attempting to steel his precious horcrux." She snorted again, suddenly feeling rather unimpressed with Voldemort. For someone as intelligent as him, he sure seemed to underestimate the opposite sex. She heard him chuckle first, and then realised her Professor was looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"You never cease to surprise me, Miss Edwards. You truly are the brightest witch of your age." He said, obviously still struggling with the urge to laugh.

She glared at him, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She felt an odd mix of emotions; flattered that he thought so highly of her, yet at the same time constantly underestimating her abilities – and her intelligence. Instead of commenting, she opted for the second option; silence.

"But yes, that certainly is in our favour." He smiled.

"Well, lucky us." She muttered darkly. She did not fancy the awaiting trip across the lake.

"Lumos Maxima!" She watched the flare of light eliminate some of the darkness residing in the ominous cave, only to disappear seconds later and let the darkness take over again. It seemed the island was farther away than she had previously thought.

.

.

"Are you sure about this, Miss Edwards? Perhaps I should do this-" She cut him off. She had insisted she be the one to drink the potion, and he had – predictably – not agreed with her request.

"Don't worry, Professor, I have the antidote in my bag, or at least I hope it is. It took me quite some time to brew, given the level of complexity." He eyed her sharply, suddenly feeling uneasy by her words.

"Besides, it's not like I'm actually going to drink it." She said, as a sly smile slowly formed on her lips.

"I might be old, Miss Edwards, but I clearly remember you saying the only way to dispose of the potion was to drink it. Furthermore, I can only agree with those sentiments, given the charms and curses placed on the basin." He quirked an eyebrow enquiringly at her; he knew his curses and he certainly knew his charms and enchantments.

She spied an unspoken challenge in his eyes; clearly he thought nothing could be done to avoid drinking it. But again he underestimated her. She could be cunning and ruthless, but still be subtle about it; sometimes she wondered how she hadn't ended up in Slytherin, but of course, her ancestry answered that question.

She smiled to herself.

"True enough, Sir, but no one said you can't spit out what you drink."

.

.

The look on his face was priceless; never had she seen him look so constipated before. She was sure Voldemort would have paid good money to watch the way his face scrunched up, all wrinkly and displeased. He made no further comments, and instead decided on watching her next move; the ball was now in her court.

She rummaged through her bag and extracted quite a few vials, some she asked Dumbledore to hold, and some she tossed right back into the blackness of her beaded bag. Lastly, she unearthed a light blue vial, shimmering with the same misty light as the basin, and proceeded to put it in the pocket of her jacket.

"Okay, it's now or never, Hermione." She mumbled to herself, feeling a slight pang of trepidation.

She slid her wand out from the holster on her arm and conjured a silver goblet.

"Are you sure this won't hurt you, Miss Edwards?" He looked sceptically at her.

"I never said it wouldn't hurt me, I just said I wouldn't have to swallow it. Naturally, due to the toxic ingredients in the potion, I will feel some pain, but nowhere near the level of pain I would have experienced had I swallowed it. Which is also why I brought an antidote."

She wasted no more time, and carefully scooped up quite a bit of the potion in her goblet. Raising the goblet to her lips, she took on last look at it before she drank. The taste was appalling and she only held it in her mouth for a few seconds before she reached out for one of the empty vials. She continued this act four more times, determined to get it over with as fast as possible, but then came the first bouts of pain and dizziness. Her vision blurred for a few seconds, and she felt, rather than saw, Dumbledore taking a hold of her arm to steady her.

"Miss Edwards, that is quite enough."

"No… there isn't much left." She slurred, but continued her previous actions stubbornly.

"As you wish then." She could hear his disapproval, but she supposed it occurred rather often these days – too often for her to take notice of it anymore, too often for her to care.

He kept holding her arm; afraid she might fall if he let go.

"Just a little more…" She mumbled to herself. And three minutes later the basin was empty, save for Slytherin's locket. She looked at the offending object, horrified to see it again as she was reminded of her time on the run.

Dumbledore let go of her arm reluctantly, and took a step closer to the basin.

"Be careful, Professor…" She slurred, but he heard her well enough.

"Extraordinary."

"Trust me, you won't think so when you discover how he obtained the blasted locket." She said, this time more coherent.

"Not surprising." He mumbled distractedly. He then levitated the horcrux out of the offending basin, and wrapped it in a cloth before stowing it away in his, always, colourful robes.

"Ugh… well, that wasn't very fun." She wrinkled her nose and reached for the antidote in her pocket. But then the unthinkable happened.

She stumbled.

Her balance was off, and while she didn't end up doing something so dramatic as falling – or rolling – into the black water, she lost her footing on a few loose rocks on the island. She felt silly when she landed on her butt, but there were more pressing matters to focus on; the damage was done, and Dumbledore looked at her in horror.

Those nasty little rocks just had to roll into the damn lake. If that isn't my life in a nutshell, I don't know what is. She thought angrily.

She had a hard time focusing on more than one ting due to her sluggishness, and once her anger subsided, she was filled with dread.

For the first time in months she was scared. Not the 'I'm going to fail Potions' scared, but truly and utterly frightened for her life kind of scared. She knew it had all gone far too perfect for it to be real, and now she had really messed up. Inferi was crawling everywhere she looked, and the light from Dumbledore's wand only lit up half of it. She could see pale white limbs shooting up from the water, and she barely knew where to start or where to end. She had to come up with something – and fast. She doubted Dumbledore could hold them off for long with Fiendfyre; the longer you used it, the harder it became to control it, and she had no intention of being burned to death in this bloody cave.

She searched her mind for anything useful, when it suddenly hit her. For all her cleverness, she had certainly not put it to good use this time.

"Auggy…" She croaked out.

Whether the little house-elf would respond to her call was uncertain, but she had to try.

Dumbledore was much too preoccupied with containing his flames, to notice her discovery, and for that she was grateful. Had she decided to do this on her own – as she had considered far too often – then she would have been dead by now. It was like a hard slap to her face.

Not long after the familiar 'pop' was heard, and a relieved Hermione came face to face with her favourite house-elf.

"Miss Hermy called?" She looked expectantly at Hermione, as if she had been waiting for Hermione to call for quite some time.

"Can you get us out of here, Auggy? I will explain later…" She winced, as she again felt unbearable pain shooting through her body.

Auggy took one horrifying look around her and nodded vigorously.

"Professor! Get over here! Auggy can get us out!" She yelled out, staring in panic, as more and more Inferi seemed to appear; much like a hydra would grow heads. His head whipped around so fast Hermione heard a crack, then took one hurried glance at the awkward little creature, before striding over to the pair faster than she had ever seen him move. The flames disappeared just as quickly.

Auggy grabbed onto their robes, and they disappeared with the same audible little 'pop' as when Auggy arrived.

.

.

"That was quite a daunting experience, Miss Edwards." Her Professor said jovially, even if the statement lacked his usual amount of delight. They landed in the Hospital Wing, most thoughtful of Auggy to consider, and Hermione could already see how her weekend would be spent in Madam Pomfrey's care, if she had it her way.

"I think you earned the right to call me Hermione after tonight, Professor." She was dead on her feet, and hadn't yet had the time to take the antidote. She made swift work of it, and downed the entire vial. She wasn't sure how well it would work, but she was confident she wouldn't have any lingering side effects from the Drink of Despair.

"Hermione it is then. I suppose the same goes for you, Hermione." He gave her a tired smile.

"Only in private, Albus." She tossed the vial back into her beaded little bag, and looked at Auggy still holding on to her robe.

"Thank you Auggy. You have no idea how grateful I am." Hermione got down on her knees rather clumsily and embraced the little elf. "I wasn't sure you would respond to my call, but I am happy you did." She whispered into Auggy's flappy ear.

"Auggy likes Miss Hermy, and Auggy is honoured you would think of her."

She rose from her kneeling position on the floor, only to take a few shaky steps forward when her vision blurred, little spots dancing before her eyes, and the pain still unbearable. Her body gave out, the strain too much for her to bear, and she let herself fall into the awaiting darkness.

TBC...

AN: I apologize for the long wait, and I cannot express how sorry I am. But again, I must blame my illness and myself. I had a breakdown, only this time it was caught in time (so to speak), yet all too late at the same time. I was in a shitty place, a place I wouldn't wish on anyone. I was hospitalized for about a month, and that set me back quite a bit in regards to school. I have assignments waiting in line to be handed in, and yet I find myself writing fanfiction – but I suppose I need a break from everything shitty and horrible.

Again, I can hardly express how much your reviews, favourites and alerts mean to me (especially when I was in the loony bin – and yes, I call it that. If I can't joke about it, then everything really sucks. So, laugh at life people, because life can sure as hell be mean). Truly, thank you.

Special thanks to Keira-House M.D for always reviewing :) You make me smile (and so do every one of my lovely reviewers).

Anyway! This chapter annoyed the crap out of me… (I mean, not only are there so many loopholes to exploit, but I have also rarely seen a cunning Hermione – which we all know she is… Umbridge, Skeeter and Edgecombe – need I mention more?) It's certainly not my favourite part in this story, but it is necessary. Damn, I want some Sirmione action… I'm sure you are craving it just as much as I am.

On the bright side, the next chapter is about truth. Oh yes, dear readers, I said truth. But perhaps not quite the truth you would expect (wouldn't that be unbelievably boring?), well some of it perhaps. Remember, truth comes in many forms and variations, which always makes it so darn fun to play with.

Next we have: Remus being a suspicious little wolf, a furious Hermione, a Hogsmeade trip, and a lovely Sirius.

And to all of you Draco lovers out there (can't say that I blame you), don't worry; he'll be there soon enough.

Until next time,

Winnie