The semblance of regret that Hermione felt when she entered the laboratory for the last time came as a surprise. She was aware that she would miss Harry, Ron, the Gryffindor Tower. Even lessons. Oddly enough, the Hogwarts' know-it-all was still upset by the thought that she was not going to finish her education – but there were only six months left to graduation! Well, forget the canons of peacetime. Still, it was better not to finish school than to die. Hagrid, who also did not finish his studies, would certainly agree with that, though Hagrid could not be asked for advice right now. Professor Dumbledore, before his death, had given assignments to everyone, and the half-giant, referring to this, had left in an unknown direction a month ago. She would not even see his return now! This was also a pity, but this was understandable. But to miss Professor Snape and his lab?
She'd got used to sitting every evening in the cold with books and cauldrons. For almost four months, the knowledge that she would certainly spend at least three hours of the day in a very definite way – at her desk in the corner of a semi-dark room, had taken root in her very being. Habit is second nature. Hermione hesitated whether to take the flag and the picture with her but decided to leave them to the professor all the same – not as a souvenir, but so that the fugitive would not be missed right away. Pity she had not mastered Fiendfyre – it would be useful in the Order. At least she was going to greet Christmas in the company of friends with cake and a Christmas tree rather than in the dungeons of the vile Snape. Though, she had never celebrated Christmas at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron said that the castle performed amazing miracles…
Nostalgic for the quiet school days, Miss Granger wasted no time. Having checked with the log for the right rack, she climbed the ladder to retrieve the necessary vial. It took longer this way, but the desired potion stood in the far corner near the wall – if she summoned it with an 'Accio' she would smash half of the shelf. The professor wouldn't like that… What difference did that make to her, really? Her detentions were over, and no one would scold her for broken phials anymore. She had to get out of the lab before he returned. Angry at herself for unnecessary scrupulousness, Hermione nevertheless pushed aside a heavy jar of Skele-Gro – they had spent so much time brewing it, she would hate herself for smashing it. The vial with the magic identifier was quite tiny. If she used just a little bit, perhaps he wouldn't notice… Why did she care?!
Hermione looked back at the door, listened carefully – everything was quiet. Was he still absent? She sighed deeply and pulled the heavy cup out of her bag. It might very well be made of real gold – only the boys wouldn't have paid attention to the weight. Though, she was no better than them – why hadn't she immediately examined the suspicious cup closer? Hermione set the cup onto the shelf and gently dropped some greyish liquid from the vial inside it. Would it turn white or black? The potion spread as a thin film along the cup's bottom and burst into a dark flame. It was unlikely that such an effect was given by unpretentious magic that manifested an emblem of the House in response to a rhyme. Hermione barely had time to dodge – good that she only dripped a tad! With wide eyes she looked at the cup for a few seconds. Honestly, she hadn't expected that. The liquid burned out, and the cup looked as good as new – no marks at all! Golden, cool, unremarkable. The real Hufflepuff Cup, one of the four original Hogwarts' Cups that had been made especially for the founders and considered to be long lost. (Gilded graduation cups had been created from their examples throughout the centuries.) Pure gold. A Horcrux. How did Voldemort find it? Bellatrix from the Pensieve, who had been standing in the similar way on the ladder, peering into the cup, had not been even half as amazed as Hermione was now. Harry had found a Horcrux! Another one!
Great! Time to get out.
Hermione frantically shoved the cup into the bottom of her bag, covered the stain burned on the shelf with the jar of Skele-Gro and jumped to the floor right off the top step of the ladder. She barely had time to straighten up, when the headmaster entered the laboratory. Life: a stripe of white – a stripe of hopeless black.
"Crucio," uttered Snape.
"Protego," Hermione replied routinely.
The professor gave her an incredulous look.
"You are already here, Miss Granger. So eager to start your detention?"
He had returned from the Ministry then, but had he had time to visit his bedroom? And if so, had he seen that the Pensieve was missing? In fact, he still had his travel cloak on… Occlumency!
"Sorry, sir. I know there is still an hour before my detention. I'll come back later. I just dropped in to collect my Transfiguration homework that I left here yesterday. I wanted to revise it for tomorrow's class," Hermione gave him her premeditated excuse. The aforementioned homework lay in her bag – the simpler the better. Then again, as any teacher knew, in ninety-nine percent of cases the story of the forgotten homework was a lie. In Snape's classes – it was one hundred percent. But he won't prove it!
The professor did not even think of proving anything. It seemed that the reason for her premature appearance did not interest him at all.
"Very fortunate that you've come early," he said as though continuing his previous phrase. "It's time to collect the cones of the Sleepy Spruces, and it's better done in daylight."
"Should I go to the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Together with me, Miss Granger," something flashed in his gaze, making Hermione shiver. "You can also practice casting Fiendfyre while we are there. Haven't you wanted to actually summon it for a long time? We can't do it indoors."
Summoning Fiendfyre would be good. Collecting the cones would be good as well – far away from his bedroom. But the best would be to slip away with the Horcrux into the Room of Requirement.
"All right, sir. I'll go and pick up my coat –"
"Transfigure your robes, we can't waste any time. If we manage quickly, I'll release you an hour earlier and you'll have time to revise your homework."
Was he having a rooted objection of letting her go anywhere? Then the fight was pointless. Hermione obediently waved her wand turning her school robes into a comfortable jacket. Comfortable for fleeing, that is.
"Ready? Let's go then."
Hermione gloomily held off his non-verbal 'Impedimenta' and trailed along behind the professor.
Something was wrong. She wondered whether he treasured the Pensieve much or kept it simply as an asset entitled for the headmaster. One way or another, it's unpleasant when someone steals your stuff. But surely he could not be angrier because of the Pensieve than because of his wand? With Dumbledore as Headmaster, the Pensieve had been gathering dust for months – not the most necessary thing in the household. Besides, he still had to prove that she had been involved. 'Cause, it could have been anyone… Hermione knew that all of her arguments were pretty weak, and she was furious with herself for lingering over running the test and allowing herself to be caught. Moreover, with a Horcrux in her bag. Her only hope was that the headmaster hadn't had enough time to notice that he had been robbed once again.
They reached the front hall in silence. As they approached the double doors, Snape barked 'She's with me!' to the newly installed gargoyle, and the dubious decoration stopped reaching out carnivorously for Hermione's wand. Another idiotic innovation from ministerial directives – Mudbloods had no right to take magic wands outside the castle. The gargoyle turned disobedient ones into stone, with the prospect of an unscheduled week-long vacation in the Hospital Wing. Hermione passed the ugly statue staying as far away from it as possible and rushed after the headmaster. They walked towards the Forest in complete silence, which worried Hermione more and more.
Not that Professor Snape was a pleasant and talkative conversationalist, but, as a rule, he preferred not to waste time in vain. Normally, he would either explain something or scold her for something – there were always enough topics for the three hours of her detention. Perhaps he overworked himself? The Dark Lord, headmastership, Potions… And then another Head of Slytherin had disappeared. As unexpectedly and without a trace as the previous one. Either he had left on Voldemort's secret assignment or had fallen in the battle with the Aurors. A mystery covered with the darkness. Snape had simply come to teach DADA with the same straight face with which he had returned to Potions. He hadn't even looked happy – it seemed that over the past year he had managed to become bored of his favourite subject. Though (apparently, for the first time in his longstanding career), the appearance of Professor Snape had been greeted with a flurry of applause and cheering. Slytherin and Gryffindor had shown a rare solidarity. Even Harry Potter had shouted 'Hurray!', although he had mentioned later on that he had never imagined such a gloomy state of affairs that he could be delighted with Snape as the DADA teacher. However, natural modesty hadn't allowed the professor to become proud. Having waited for the round of applause to subside, he had smirked and said only: "The jinxed position – I see. Yet I'll aim to survive no matter how hard you try." The amount of homework had become enormous once again, the rubies in the Gryffindor hourglass were kept at absolute zero, but no one was upset by that anymore. Slytherin were simply over the moon! Having not picked a new Head for them yet, their favourite professor, in between work and work, had been sorting out the House affairs which had been completely neglected by Carrow. Fights with Gryffindor subsided, as Slytherin stopped freezing at night and, accordingly, to broil with anger from the lack of sleep. Draco hadn't showed up, and Zabini had been appointed as the Head Boy instead of him. Life had settled down to a shaky balance for everyone except the headmaster. Now he had been falling asleep over the cauldrons no worse than Hermione, who had made it a rule not to leave the dungeons without handing over the newly brewed potions and the cocoa to the exhausted professor. What would he do without her? Hermione took herself up sharply – he would manage, the poor thing. You'd better think about yourself, fool.
They entered the Forbidden Forest. Snape conjured a couple of cloth bags with wide straps for himself and for his student, and the search for the Sleepy Spruces began. That's right, 'cause they had nothing better to do. The rest of the world could wait, along with the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes… Hermione obediently walked along the recently fallen snow towards the coniferous grove, which stood out cheerfully from the forest that had dropped its leaves.
"A nice place, isn't it?" the professor queried, stopping under the first Sleepy Spruce they reached.
Hermione was lost for words – Snape, admiring the beauty of nature?
"Y-yes, sir," she muttered, feeling as though the end of the world was approaching. "And the spruces are covered in snow, it feels like Christmas."
"Would you like to die here, Miss Granger? Would it be better than in the dungeons?" he asked with keen interest.
Ah, no need to worry, everything was fine. The headmaster hadn't lost his mind. Hermione's legs, however, got rooted to the ground and her breath stopped as if she were gagged. Did he bring her here for execution? The girl sighed convulsively a couple of times, tears were stinging her eyes.
"N-no, sir," she said in a strange voice. "I didn't plan on dying today at all."
Why hadn't she hidden the Horcrux somewhere along the way? Merlin!
"Then, of course, you will tell me where the Pensieve is."
An unexpected question. Occlumency!
"The P-pensieve?"
Calm down, he's just scaring you in order to get the truth. So, he had noticed then. When did he have time?
"Yes, the Pensieve, Miss Granger," the professor repeated patiently. "The marble basin that you and your friends stole from me. I presume that you did it with your friends – you couldn't have carried it by yourself."
"That's not m-me. Sir."
The boys were right – she shouldn't have gone to the laboratory. Brainless upstart! Hermione lowered her eyelids, trying not to look her teacher in the eye. Not 'Legilimens', please! But the rest wasn't to her liking either – the classic 'Crucio', the ill-fated 'Sectumsempra' and 'Avada Kedavra' for dessert. She won't escape the Killing Curse for the third time for sure. However, instead of all of the above, the petrified Hermione felt how she was grabbed by the shoulders, dragged a couple of meters through the snow and pressed against a tree. Has he decided to beat her up in a non-magic way? Or to tie her to a spruce and leave her to be torn apart by wild animals? Curiosity, as usual, overcame the fear in the Gryffindorian. Striking her back against the trunk, the girl opened her eyes in surprise and immediately regretted it. The magic started in the same second.
"Legilimens!" a rare occasion when he pronounced a spell out loud. He attacked her mercilessly. Hermione screeched and sank into the snow. If it wasn't for the Occlumency, he would have seen all of her life right up to the moment of her conception, but the magical defence worked, although Hermione's head was almost blown to pieces with pain.
Won't tell, won't tell you anything! Perhaps, she should hit her head on the tree and lose consciousness? But she couldn't gather her strength for that. Besides, loss of consciousness threatened to leave her without Occlumency. She could not allow this. The dark wizard continued to hold his student on an invisible fishing-line extending from his magic wand straight to her head. He was going to drive her crazy with torture… She knew that such penetrations were extremely dangerous. One could have sent such visions into another's mind that the victim would spend the rest of their days envying O'Leary. Or perhaps that was exactly how Stephen had gone insane? Hermione would be glad not to look into the indifferent face of the Death Eater, but his spell didn't leave her a choice. Get off me, you freak! The girl tried her best to push him away from the boundaries of her consciousness. At some point she had almost managed to do so – the professor stumbled and made an extra wave with his wand abating the strength of his attack. However, almost instantly her pain doubled. Rot in hell…
Hermione continued to sit under the spruce, looking no longer at the professor but at the snow, which she had churned with soil while writhing in pain. She was scared to take her hands off her face, although it wouldn't help. The ring of fire stopped tearing her brain from the inside. Pain subsided and retreated. Had he found what he wanted? No, shouldn't have… She managed… Hermione was afraid to look up.
"Bastard…"
"What did you say, Miss Granger?"
Calm down, don't forget that you're responsible not only for your Mudblood life, but also for the Horcrux. One, two, three…
Holding onto the tree, Hermione carefully stood up and gazed at her teacher, frowning. After all, if he wanted to, he'd still make her look at him.
"Your defence is too predictable," the professor said sharply. "And merely fortifying. If you don't learn to attack in response, you won't last very long."
Ah! So, that was an educational process then. The topic of today's lesson is the Pensieve. Bastard! Four, five, six…
Hermione had recovered a little but continued to hold her wand at the ready. One never knows…
The headmaster's face was twisted in a spasm.
"I see that you can't live without the Pensieve," he snapped. "Mind you, I have no doubt that it was you who broke into my quarters. You shall return the Pensieve before tomorrow evening – not later. I need it."
Seven, eight, nine…
Who cares what you need? Rant about it as long as you want! He just couldn't. Couldn't break through her Occlumency. That's how her every-day self-practicing paid out! Having learned nothing, he flew into a rage. Her defence is too predictable, merely fortifying! Ha! Except you, only if Voldemort decides to try to get through it, but the Dark Lord is a special case. And she takes a spoonful of Free-will Serum every day now. Ten…
"Sir, if the practice is over, may I proceed with collecting the cones? It'll be dark soon," Hermione said, brushing off the dirt from her jeans.
Not taking his eerie gaze from her, as though still continuing his Legilimency session, the professor muttered through his clenched teeth:
"You may."
"Thank you, sir."
The good thing about such spells was that their unpleasant effect subsided as soon as they ceased working. She should have been glad that he hadn't cast the Killing Curse on her as its effect would have been permanent. Deciding that if she survived till the end of her detention, she would go to the Order of the Phoenix without any objections, Hermione mused what to do with the Horcrux. When else would they find another means to destroy it? The sap of a tree of Death, a Jabberwocky's tooth… Where could they get such things these days? She had to try! After waiting half an hour, during which she conscientiously stuffed her bag with the Sleepy cones, Hermione cautiously turned to the professor:
"Sorry, sir, but you said I could practice Fiendfyre while we're here…"
Snape, whose bag was already more than half full, glanced at her with undisguised irritation:
"Wasn't Legilimency enough for you, Miss Granger?"
"It was!" Hermione shrieked hastily. "But we can practice it in the castle as well. Please, sir. You promised."
The headmaster did not take pity of her supplicating gaze.
"Your zeal for studying has always gravitated towards obsession," he snapped, measuring his student with a hostile look. "I'm not stopping you, am I? Practice on those spruces."
"Won't you back me up? Sir," Hermione said warily.
"If you manage to summon at least a thin stream of flame, I'll have time to come around," he brushed her aside.
Perfect. He wants her to burn. Allegedly, on her own accord. No doubt, he's taking revenge for her past arson attacks. All right, here she goes.
Without much hope of success, Hermione climbed across a ravine closer to the indicated trees. She dragged both bags (her school one and the one with the cones) along with her, hanging them crosswise. Let the professor think whatever he wanted – it couldn't get any worse. Who would have thought that he'd conk her on the head like that for his stupid Pensieve? Bastard.
The spruces turned out to be a windfall – it would flare up immediately at the smallest flame. Though, she had never managed to summon even this so far. Maybe today, by a miracle, at least the tiniest of her demons would show up? After all, she was really cross with the headmaster. A filthy scoundrel, a traitor! Had killed Dumbledore, tortured her… Nope, again nothing. Her last practice! How annoying! The solution for the Horcrux problem was so close, yet still unreachable. What did she do to deserve this? How did one manage to cast that damn fire? Hermione froze. All right, she could not summon the Fiendfyre – never mind, she was gifted at other things. However, there was someone who could do it for sure, except he stubbornly refused to demonstrate it. Well, she had no choice. Anyway, she had decided to leave the school tonight – compared to that the other sacrifices were nothing. Hiding behind a Sleepy Spruce, the girl hastily opened her school bag, took the cup out and transfigured it into a cone. She put it into her cones bag – it looked almost the same, just was slightly larger than the others. Here goes nothing…
"Professor!" the girl climbed back across the ravine and found a gloomy Snape, who was about to reduce the size of his prey in order to stash it in his cloak pocket. Prevented him from casting a spell – it was not a good sign. Hermione, however, was determined to proceed.
"Sir, I can't do it…"
"Clearly. I can see that from here."
"Professor, please… Could you show me? Just once! Since we're in the Forest."
Hermione was not sure that she had succeeded in the role of the eternally moaning and fawning Malfoy, and the headmaster looked at her incredulously.
"Miss Granger, don't push it today. I'm in a bad mood."
Is there ever a different kind? Or is this warning supposed to be considered the highest degree of his geniality?
"But sir… I've been practicing for such a long time and still have no idea what should come out. Perhaps if you showed me just once… You're a powerful wizard; it won't be too much trouble for you."
Hermione thought she'd fall through the ground from awkwardness. At least it worked. Sort of. The professor winced.
"What's the matter with you today, Miss Granger?" he asked almost sympathetically. "It seems that your brain has suffered from Legilimency after all."
He followed her nevertheless.
"Sir, you've said it yourself that my fortifying defence worked!" Actually, he hadn't said quite so, but it didn't matter – the main thing was to keep talking in order not to let him change his mind. "And as for Fiendfyre… I don't understand what's wrong. Maybe I pronounce the incantation too late or don't follow the pattern precisely… If you could help me –"
"Somehow you sound too unnatural," Snape grimaced. "Try adding some passion and a higher timbre – perhaps that'll do. I could even agree to accept you in Slytherin. Would you be so kind as to explain to me why you need Fiendfyre all of a sudden?"
'Legilimens'? No, just a question.
"I hate failing in something," Hermione told him half of the truth.
"Me too."
"Sorry, sir?"
"Never mind. Which tree do you like less?"
"That one, I think. Oh, no, hold on! This is against Inferi, isn't it? Just a second…"
Calmly now, very calmly…
Hermione took the biggest cone out of her bag, put it on the ground and waved her wand. If she had managed to transfigure a hamster, surely she could do an Inferius as well? The difference in weight was larger, of course, but this was a matter of technic. Here we go, quite a realistic Inferius and looking very similar to the one that had chased her around the Great Hall during the first DADA class. Do you remember, Professor? Thanks to Draco, you and I even kissed that day… As for Inferius, it shouldn't be beautiful – it's just a half-decayed corpse!
"What an imagination you have," the Death Eater shuddered.
Release the fire already!
Will it really work?
They took thirty steps back and the professor waved his wand. Hermione was filled with a sense of foreboding, but she had no choice. The Horcrux had to be destroyed. In any possible way.
The headmaster's (or rather the previous headmaster's) wand released an eddying wide fire – it was as dense as water and almost white, instantly melting the snow as well as the ground under it. The fire took the form of a wave and swiftly rolled towards the Inferius. Hermione froze in admiration. This was so much cooler than 'Incendio'! Like it or not, Snape was a really powerful wizard! By the seventh year magic ceased to amaze, but the rare moments when one could really understand what a miracle was became the most valuable. Damn him! Why? Why was he on Voldemort's side? She could have killed him…
The fire suddenly thought the same thing.
Having reached the Inferius and, of course, having incinerated it in a blink of an eye, the Fiendfyre unexpectedly howled in an inhuman voice, turned black and soared above the trees, forming a backward wave. Both, the teacher and his student, jumped back and yelled 'Protego!' Verbally. However, Hermione, personally, did not believe that it would help. Therefore, her next magical action was to scream 'Mummy!', close her eyes and grab the professor's hand. 'So, this is where we die,' the logical thought flashed in her head. There was no point in running – the wave rolled over them almost instantly. Moreover, the strength of the blow was so extreme, that their protection buckled and they were thrown back by their own shield charms. Then their double barrier broke and the last thing that Hermione saw, sliding into the ravine, was a swift black fire rushing over her.
She lost consciousness. Then came to her senses and, without opening her eyes, thought that they both had burned – the Horcrux and the professor. Feelings were vague, and she didn't have time to identify them as an already familiar sensation took place – she was dragged, with her eyes closed, to the side and pressed against a tree.
"Granger, are you alive?" he wiped the snow from her face first, then slapped her cheek. "Rennervate!"
Professor… Why do you always either torture or save? Can't you make up your mind?
Having thought that, Hermione smiled and nodded awkwardly – I'm alive. Then she opened her eyes and realised that there was nothing to be happy about. The headmaster was kneeling beside her, angry and frowning. The ground around them had turned to ash – nothing would be growing there for the next century. A little bit of snow remained only here, at the bottom of the ravine.
"Where's…" Hermione coughed, clearing her throat (the snow was even in her mouth), then finished in a hoarse voice, "Where's the Fiendfyre?"
She still had a fear that the insidious wave could jump out the Forest at them.
"I caught it. Get up, if you haven't broken anything…"
The professor looked… confused and frightened? Well, of course, he had been thrown into the ravine as well, after all… Won't he give her his hand? He did. Hermione stood up with difficulty.
"Are you injured again?" the headmaster flared.
Hermione didn't feel anything, and she certainly couldn't understand why, from his point of view, she was guilty. The professor leaned her against the tree once more, bending her head towards him – pulled dry needles out of her hair. His hands were like pincers, couldn't he be gentler?
"Why was it so intense, sir? Is it supposed to be like that?" Hermione asked, failing to restrain herself.
"No, it's not. I don't know what happened. Stay still," Snape withdrew his wand and waved it over her head, stopping the bleeding. Her thoughts didn't come any clearer but at least the objects stopped blurring.
"You have very strong demons, Professor," she whispered.
"They were not mine."
All right, they were the Horcrux's.
"Whose then?" Hermione asked, just in case.
"I told you, I don't know. But I'll think about it," Snape said very seriously. "I warned you I didn't like this spell."
Is it an apology? You are on fire today, Professor. Though, that's because of her… She'd almost set him ablaze again! She was the one who had to apologise, but he wouldn't understand it. She'd shoved him a Horcrux, irresponsible idiot! It was lucky everything turned out well. Double lucky she hadn't tried to do it herself in Myrtle's Bathroom. Destroying Horcruxes with Fiendfyre turned out not to be the safest thing; she had liked the basilisk fang more. At least this attempt had proved successful, judging by the two-meter crater in the place of the Inferius. Another good thing was that the destruction of Horcruxes was very rare magic – it seemed that the headmaster really didn't understand what he had done.
"I'm sorry, sir!" Hermione couldn't hold back any longer. "I shouldn't have insisted. You did warn me it was a difficult spell for you!"
The headmaster glared at her like an acromantula. What was wrong now?
"Not to such an extent, Miss Granger," he uttered. "No need to be witty. And keep quiet about what you saw."
No problem with that.
"Should I levitate you or you can walk by yourself?" Snape inquired as though nothing had happened as they climbed out of the muddy ravine.
Levitate her? Course not!
"I can walk," Hermione said quietly, but she still had to lean on the headmaster's arm. Perhaps she was wrong about 'as though nothing had happened' – the professor's hand trembled slightly although he pulled her along quite confidently. Well, he'd had to catch that thing after all… Hermione shuddered and, completely unexpectedly to herself, burst into tears. She immediately lost the desire to go anywhere and just wanted to sit under a Sleepy Spruce and cry. Better yet, to cry with her face buried in his black cloak.
"Now what? Here, drink this."
Hermione took the phial with her unruly fingers. She didn't even ask him what was in it. Perhaps, Veritaserum – would be about time.
"Calming drops. From the same cones," the professor answered the question without her asking it.
"Oh! I think I lost my cones bag…"
"Too bad. We'll have to come again tomorrow… to another grove."
Unlikely, she'd be in the Order by then. If she survives.
"I… was so scared! I thought… we were going to burn!"
The drops rolled down her oesophagus in a hot wave, warming her up to the very fingertips. The tears dried away.
"Feeling better?'
"I t-think so."
Good drops. Does he carry them around all the time? Does he get nervous so often? And what does he mix in them, besides ground nuts?
Hermione wiped her eyes, blinked. A wide scorched clearing stretched from the ravine almost to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. W-wow...
"Let's go, we shouldn't stay here," the professor pulled her aside, bypassing the plateau conveniently melted in the snow. "There is a strong dark magic presence. I have restricted it with charms for now. I'll figure it out later," he explained to her for complete understanding.
Professor… Don't tremble like that – it's over now. Perhaps, you'd better take the drops too? Hermione giggled stupidly. The professor looked at his student with a sigh, and they continued walking back to Hogwarts. Hermione didn't remember this journey clearly – either because of the rare medicine or because of her head injury, but it seemed to her that their way back took twice as long. They were walking in silence again. Snape was frowning, lost in thought, and obviously mulling over the strange behaviour of the Fiendfyre. Hermione hoped he would never figure it out. Stubbornly refusing to be levitated, the girl courageously clung to his Mark beneath the stiff cuff of his cloak's sleeve. There was only one warm thought in her head – the Horcrux had been destroyed! The boys would be delighted. She giggled stupidly again.