A/N: Thank you all so much for the response to this fic! I'm really glad y'all seem to be enjoying it, because I'm having a lot of fun writing it. No particular warnings this chapter, just a little blood and some unsettling implications.
None of the three got any more sleep that night, and Hermione used the time to bring her current stack of to-be-read library books down to the common room and enlist Harry and Ron in looking through them. She highly doubted there would be anything useful to find regarding their current situation, but it was at least something they could do.
They spent a few hours on research but didn't end up having the room completely to themselves for the entire morning, as they were eventually joined by a first year girl who'd also had a nightmare. Hermione had gently asked her a few questions about it just to confirm that her dream was unrelated, which it seemed to be, but until that moment Hermione hadn't really thought about the possibility of others being involved. Could any of their classmates be having the same dreams, and just thought nothing of them?
It was something to be looked into, although that would have to wait until after the meeting with Dumbledore. Finally, as the hour of breakfast arrived, it seemed reasonable enough to go to Dumblefore's office, and so the three packed up their things and got ready to start the day.
As the trio neared Dumbledore's office, Hermione was a little worried that they might not be let in; Dumbledore might not be awake yet, or possibly wasn't in his office at all, or might simply not admit them. But, just as the day before, as soon as Harry knocked Dumbledore's voice welcomed them in from the other side.
"I thought I might be seeing you this morning." Dumbledore greeted them as they stepped in, his gaze shifting to Ron as he added, "Have you been informed of the situation, Mr. Weasley?"
"Yeah, they've filled me in." Ron affirmed, with a vague gesture Hermione and Harry's way. "No weird dreams on my part, though."
"Just as well." Dumbledore commented, then fixed his gaze briefly on Harry before turning his attention toward Hermione. "Since you're here, I presume the two of you have experienced another dream yourselves?"
"Yes." Hermione said, taking a deep breath and drawing herself up to her full height. "But before we get into what happened, we've decided something. All three of us."
She glanced at Ron, who nodded, and then Harry, who met her gaze evenly. They were both still in support, and so she continued. "Since what we're dealing with seems to be very real and potentially of consequence, we need to be operating as a team. And to do that, we all need to have the same information."
She didn't outright add that this meant no giving out secret missions, but she felt it came across clearly enough in her words. In fact, hearing that implication in her own words and tone caused her to feel suddenly a little anxious about how Dumbledore was going to take it; she had come a long way in her willingness to oppose teachers when necessary, but that didn't mean it didn't make her nervous.
But whatever response she might've been worried about receiving was certainly not the simple answer Dumbledore gave. "I quite agree, Miss Granger."
Hermione had been steeling herself to argue, and so for a moment she floundered in trying to figure out how to respond to that. Thankfully, she was spared from doing so as Dumbledore turned his gaze toward Harry.
"Am I correct in assuming that you've informed the others of what I asked you to do?" Dumbledore asked, and then quickly added, "It's quite understandable if you did."
"Yes." Harry said, and Hermione realized it was the first time he'd spoken since they'd entered the room. "I wasn't planning to, but Hermione was able to describe the Riddle manor's drawing room from her dream, even though she'd never seen it before. And since I did find what you asked me to look for, that means it isn't just that we're sharing suspiciously similar dreams, and they needed to know." Harry hesitated briefly, and then added pointedly, "But you already suspected that, didn't you? That there was something more to it?"
"Indeed I did." Dumbledore confirmed, waving a hand, and on a shelf in the corner Hermione noticed a little tea set begin to activate and work on preparing tea. Another wave and a small table appeared between them all, along with an array of squishy violet chairs. "But it was only suspicion. Now, however, I believe we have some matters of great importance to discuss. Tea?"
And that was how Hermione, Harry, and Ron learned of the dark art of creating horcruxes, as well as the fact that one of the horcruxes had already been destroyed by Harry several years earlier. Dumbledore explained that he'd long suspected Voldemort had made a horcrux, and that this was related to the memory he'd wanted Harry to acquire from Slughorn; although Dumbledore was suspicious that Voldemort had made multiple horcruxes, he neither had proof of that nor any idea of just how many might've been made.
But once Harry had described the sense of being drawn to the Gaunt shack in his dream, Dumbledore had wondered if there might be a reason for it. And so when Harry described his latest dream, in which he located a gold ring set with an engraved black stone hidden in a box under the floorboards of the shack, Dumbledore confirmed what Hermione thought this all might've been leading up to.
"I wondered if it might've been a horcrux, that you sensed in the remains of that home." Dumbledore said, attention on Harry, who was completely ignoring the tea and small breakfast that Dumbledore had served. "It was my hope that, should you find what I suspected to exist, we might learn multiple things at once. One would be if these dreams were, in any way, related to reality, as yours often seem to be."
He glanced briefly toward Hermione, then at Harry once more. "Although you had seen the ring in a previous memory, it was unlikely you would imagine that was what I was asking you to find, but there could have still been question. However, Miss Granger's observations corroborate the suspicion that these dreams reflect reality to some extent, and that makes it more likely that the ring truly does exist in the remains of the Gaunt home. Now the question remains: is the ring a horcrux?"
"Are horcruxes cursed?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore gave him an appraising look, but Hermione thought she could see some trepidation there as well.
"It would depend on the horcrux. By their nature, they are laden with dark magic and have inherent powerful magical properties, but are not necessarily dangerous in themselves. However, curses could easily be placed upon the horcruxes to protect them."
"I think that was done here." Harry said. "The ring was cursed, so if you're intending to go look for it, you shouldn't touch it."
Dumbledore nodded, thinking that over, but he didn't look surprised. Hermione took a sip of her cold tea in an attempt to hide the frown coming to her face.
"I did plan to look for it, but it may be prudent to try something else first." He rose from his seat and crossed the room, lifting the Sword of Gryffindor from its place resting on a shelf behind his desk. The silver and rubies glittered in the light, as Dumbledore returned to the small table they had been gathered around and showed them the weapon.
"There are few methods known to destroy a horcrux. Harry has already used one of them: the fang of a basilisk. However, I have my suspicions that this sword is another way."
Hermione suddenly had a distinct sense that she knew where this was going.
"It is my request, therefore, that you might conduct a potentially very important experiment." Dumbledore said, gaze flicking between Harry and Hermione. "Miss Granger, since you seem to find yourself beginning in Hogwarts in these dreams, I would like to ask you to retrieve the sword. Take it to the Riddle manor, unite with Harry, and then travel together to the Gaunt shack to locate the ring."
"Wait, do you think destroying it in the dream might, y'know, destroy it in real life?" Ron asked, halfway through what was surely his sixth piece of toast; Hermione hadn't been entirely sure he'd been paying attention, but apparently he had.
Dumbledore looked at him, considering the question only briefly before responding. "I think it would be presumptuous to believe such a thing so soon, and yet prudent to act as though it might indeed be true."
Silence hung for several seconds as they all took in the possible implications of this situation; it was a lot all at once, between the horcruxes and the dreams and the potential link between both of those things and waking life. Voldemort had created horcruxes, and was therefore essentially immortal until those horcruxes were destroyed. There was a possibility that she and Harry could destroy one of them, if all of these beliefs and assumptions might be true. And, even if they couldn't destroy them, they could potentially locate other horcruxes that might exist and do so with a freedom that they don't have in waking life.
It was an opportunity, and that should be a good thing, but all that Hermione could feel was a deep sense of dread.
Even for Hermione, it was difficult to concentrate in class that day. Not only was she exhausted from being awake half the night, her thoughts were far from schoolwork.
She felt, suddenly, much more sympathetic about all the times Harry had copied off her homework. The homework wasn't really the point—it was just a silly, safe thing to think about—but it was one of so many things that had suddenly become a bit more clear to her. Hermione had thought she'd an understanding of the sort of stress Harry was under all the time, but she suddenly realized just how different it was being truly, deeply involved in something like this, rather than helping from the outside. It had been less than twenty-four hours since she'd found out that her dreams might not be normal, and she was already feeling so drained.
When she met back up for Harry and Ron at lunch time, the two were sitting across from each other at Gryffindor table and were deep in a discussion with Ginny and Neville. Hermione slid into a seat at Harry's side, catching the middle of Ginny's sentence.
"—worth asking Luna too." Ginny said, idly stirring her soup.
"Yeah, especially if it has anything do with the Department of Mysteries, since she was there too." Neville agreed, glancing briefly at Hermione with an awkward smile of greeting before looking back at Harry again.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione decided to just ask, though she already had a guess.
"Ron thought that we should see if anyone else might be having strange dreams too. Since we don't know why it's just us, maybe it isn't just us." Harry explained, and Hermione couldn't help but turn a brief look of surprise at Ron.
He shrugged in return. "No luck, though; not with Neville or Ginny, anyway."
"I'll talk to Luna when I'm in class with her later." Ginny offered, finally deciding to eat her soup. "But I can't think of anyone else outside Gryffindor house that we should ask."
"Maybe—" Neville began, but he was quickly interrupted by a blur of curls as Lavender appeared, and she threw her arms around Ron with a squeal.
"Er, hey, Lavender." Ron greeted, his expression somewhere between embarrassment and affection. His gaze flickered toward Hermione, and she met it with an unimpressed look of her own; she was a little annoyed with the display, as she'd expected to be, but strangely felt very little else about the scene.
Lavender's arrival derailed the conversation a bit, and Ginny soon left to go talk to some of her other friends, which Hermione really couldn't blame her for. Neville stayed, though he was very obviously trying to politely ignore Ron and Lavender by starting a discussion with Harry about their Herbology homework.
Hermione began loading up a plate with chicken and chips, considered the fruit and vegetable options for a moment before deciding on an apple, and then promptly set the plate in front of Harry before taking his own untouched, empty plate and beginning to serve herself. Neville, a moment later and as if on cue, set a goblet of pumpkin juice in front of Harry as well.
"Okay, I get it." Harry muttered, though a flicker of amusement crossed his features as he grabbed his drink, and Hermione's spirits lifted a little in an instant.
The rest of the school day went by slightly better, as Hermione was sharing classes with Harry and Ron, and their presences were grounding. By the end of their last class she was less overwhelmed and more determined, ready to face whatever might come their way that night. And so, for the first time in regard to this subject, she and Harry decided to have a planning session for their potential upcoming dreams.
It still seemed surreal, in many senses, to be trying to plan what to do in a dream, especially operating under the assumption that their actions might be significant. Hermione didn't really appreciate all the uncertainty, but they would hopefully have some answers soon if all went well, and so she begrudgingly resigned herself to putting up with it for now.
Finding an empty classroom was a simple task with the use of the Maurader's Map, and so Hermione and Harry chose one to convene in that evening after dinner. Ron was still with Lavender, but since he wasn't a part of the dreams themselves they thought it would be okay to just fill him in later.
Hermione let Harry go into the room first, and she shut the door behind them before locking it with a simple charm. It was extremely unlikely anyone would barge in, but there was no reason not to take precautions, and so she also cast an Imperturbable Charm as well to be safe. By the time she was done, Harry had set his bag down and perched up on one of the abandoned desks, and she realized this was the first time she'd gotten to speak to him alone since their walk the evening before. It seemed like so much longer ago than it really had been.
"Alright." Hermione said, just to fill the sudden silence. "There's no guarantee we'll have another of these dreams tonight, but we should decide exactly what we're going to do just in case we do, and there are a few possible complications that I wanted to go over."
Harry nodded, showing he was listening, but didn't interject and so she continued. "I've been thinking about it, and I realized that timing might be a problem. In my dream last night, I remembered much earlier than before that I needed to look for you, but it still took half a class period before that happened. If it happens even earlier this time, or perhaps even immediately, it would only take about fifteen minutes for me to get the sword and go to the manor."
She had, of course, also wondered if time really mattered in a dream, since dreams weren't exactly known for making perfect sense. But then again, these dreams were far more realistic than they should be, even without considering that they might be truly linked to real life; Hermione had never had a dream in which everything had been logical, especially not down to the point of needing to walk through the correct corridors and find a particular fireplace to use. It was probably best to presume they had the same limitations they had in waking life.
"That would be a lot faster than I could get there." Harry said, drawing Hermione's thoughts back to the conversation. "Since we don't need to go to the manor itself specifically, maybe you should head toward graveyard, and we can meet somewhere between the graveyard and the manor."
Right. That sounded logical, and Hermione nodded her agreement. "Since I'll be prepared, I should hopefully be able to handle Nagini if she's at the manor again. But perhaps she won't be; she wasn't there when you went to the manor in your third dream, correct?"
Harry shook his head. "She wasn't there. So far, that's the only thing that doesn't seem to have been the same in the settings of each dream."
And that was an ominous thought. Why would Nagini not be in one location? Was her presence also based on timing?
It was something Hermione would have to think about, but for now they had very little to go on. "Since she's unpredictable, we'll just have to be on guard. I'll have both my wand and the sword, so I—"
She stopped as a thought struck her, and although she didn't want to bring up a subject Harry had been avoiding, she had to ask. "Harry, you said that you wake up in the graveyard… Do you have your wand?"
Harry's gaze flickered toward the floor and then the far wall, and Hermione didn't press, knowing it was better just to give him a few moments. When he did respond, what he said was only half what she'd expected to hear. "I don't know what happened to my wand, but it isn't there with me. I've been taking Cedric's."
Oh.
Hermione crossed the room, dropping her bag next to Harry's and hoisting herself up onto the desk beside him. He didn't look at her, but he also didn't tense in that way he sometimes did when he was being too polite to tell someone to leave him alone.
She let silence and space hang between them, but only for a few moments.
"We're in this together, Harry." She spoke softly, resting her shoulder gently against his. "We always have been, but it's different this time. This time, I'm truly with you."
At first, Harry gave no real indication he'd heard her, though she knew that he was listening. But then she felt the barest hint of weight against her shoulder in return, and then tentatively more, until they were supporting each other equally.
"Yeah." Harry finally spoke, and although his voice was quiet and he didn't say anything more on the subject, she felt the barest brush of his hand against hers.
In the next half an hour they went over the rest of their plan, but it was relatively simple in theory and there wasn't a lot that they could discuss in any detail. After finding each other they would go to the Gaunt shack, Harry would locate the ring, and then either he or Hermione would take it out of its box with magic while being careful not to touch it. One of them would then hit the ring with the sword as hard as they could and hope that it actually did something, and that nothing horribly unexpected might happen.
Hermione was not at all confident in the amount of guesswork involved in this plan, but at least she and Harry had covered what they could and were in agreement. A part of her still felt like they were just blindly following what Dumbledore had told them, but what else were they going to do? Right now, this was their best course of action.
When they returned to the common room Ron was waiting for them, and although they couldn't go into much detail about their conversation due to their classmates being around, they briefly filled him in on having gone over the plan. It was apparent immediately that Ron wanted to help but was completely unsure of how to do so, and if Hermione weren't so tired she might've been willing to try to come up with something just to make him feel better.
However, at the moment all she could think about was sleeping, both due to exhaustion and nervous anticipation. She wanted to rest, but she also wanted to get this entire dream ordeal out of the way, and she wasn't sure which she wanted more.
Parvati and Lavender were both in the dorm when Hermione entered, each on their beds but still dressed for the day, textbooks spread out in front of them. They looked up when Hermione entered, and Parvati's eyebrows immediately furrowed.
"Hermione, you look so tired." She said in her usual blunt way, clearly concerned rather than meaning to be insulting, though Hermione still found the comment annoying. "Didn't you go to bed early last night?"
"I did, but I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep." Hermione responded shortly, but then suddenly she remembered the conversation at the lunch table earlier that day. Maybe this shouldn't be an annoyance, but a good opportunity. "Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you both about…"
"Oh!" Lavender said enthusiastically, sitting up straighter giving Hermione her full attention. "What is it?"
Parvati was also watching Hermione curiously, and so Hermione decided to just get right into it. She wasn't totally sure what Harry and Ron might've told Neville and Ginny, but it had certainly been limited only to the strange dreams rather than the horcruxes or the unsettling possibility of a link to real life, and so she decided to stick to the same. "I've been having strange dreams. So has Harry, and what's even more strange is that our dreams seem to be connected."
Parvati's dark eyes were wide and round at this, and she shared a glance with Lavender before beginning to flip rapidly through one of her large books. Hermione frowned at her, a little suspicious of what book it was and what she was looking for, but decided to ignore it for the moment. "We've been trying to figure out if it's just us, or if anyone else might be having them as well."
"Okay." Lavender said, suddenly more serious and businesslike than Hermione had ever seen her. "How do you know they dreams are the connected? Are they the same?"
"Not exactly." Hermione sat down on the edge of her bed, not totally certain if she was reassured by her dormmates' apparent willingness to take her seriously or irritated by how excited they seemed by the whole thing. "It's the same scenario, but Harry and I each have different experiences in the dreams themselves. It's…" She paused, then decided to just say it. "It's like an alternate world, in which Harry never came back from the third task."
Parvati's page flipping stopped, and Lavender's expression went a little more somber.
"That's terrible." Lavender said, her previous enthusiasm gone from her tone, and she chewed on her lip briefly. "I haven't had any dreams like that; what about you, Parvati?"
"No, nothing, and as far as I know no one's mentioned anything like that in Divination." Parvati responded, a frown of contemplation on her face as she resumed her page-flipping more sedately. "It may just be you and Harry; it would make the most sense that way."
"Why?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, even if she knew she wasn't going to like the answer.
"Well, that's how it usually happens." Parvati answered, as if it were obvious. "It's really rare, I mean, to share dreams, but some seers have done it, and even a few people who were engaged in studying dream interpretation. But it's only ever worked between people with a very strong bond."
Hermione resisted the urge to sigh. Of course it was this. "I've read about these stories, but you already know I don't have much faith in divination."
"Yes, but you're also the one sharing a very specific dream with your friend." Parvati responded pointedly. "So unless you already have a good explanation for what's happening, maybe you shouldn't be so dismissive."
Hermione frowned at her, unimpressed; Dumbledore himself had said he didn't have an immediate explanation for the situation, and since the divination accounts were so well-known as to be in Parvati's book it was unimaginable that Dumbledore hadn't known about them.
But then again, a quiet voice in Hermione's mind reminded her, Dumbledore could've simply been lying.
Taking a deep breath to even her nerves and steel herself for what she was about to say, Hermione forced her expression back to neutral and responded, with great effort, "Okay. Maybe." It pained her to even consider taking anything to do with divination seriously, but Parvati was right. At this point she couldn't afford to outright dismiss the idea.
Parvati grinned, exchanging another glance with an equally delighted Lavender, and Hermione sighed loudly. Both of the other girls laughed, apparently unbothered by Hermione's exasperation.
"You said you'd read about this before, right?" Lavender said, surprisingly taking on the role of steering them back on track.
"Yes." Hermione answered. "The seers who claim to have shared dreams experienced identical dreams, down to very small details, and theirs happened without any intent or purpose. It was also unintentional for the other people who have claimed to share their dreams, but it happened while they were studying dream interpretation, and they had wanted to see if controlling their dreams might affect how accurately those dreams could be interpreted."
"Right." Parvati agreed. "But it wasn't just that. They didn't just want to see if changing their dreams would affect their interpretations, they specifically wanted to see if they could alter their futures by changing their dreams. Also, of the two people who were sharing, only one in each pair was actually trying to affect them; the other person was just taken along for the ride, completely unintentionally."
"But neither Harry nor I are trying to—" And then Hermione stopped herself, because she realized it wasn't exactly true. It had been when this had started, perhaps, but not now; now they were trying to change things. They had just planned not a few hours earlier exactly how they were going to do it. The entire point was to try to change things in their dream, in order to affect…
Not the future, though. Not really. They were trying to affect the present, and it was true that neither had gone into this with those intentions. It didn't quite fit, but the similarities were too great to immediately dismiss, and Hermione really hated that.
Lavender and Parvati were quiet, waiting for Hermione to finish the sentence she'd cut herself off on, but Hermione didn't want to. Instead she seized the opportunity to change the topic slightly. "So you think one of us is actually causing this, and the other was drawn into it unintentionally?"
"If it's like the other situations, yes." Parvati said, as Lavender nodded. "And of the two of you, since Harry's already a bit notorious for his weird dreams, I'd bet on it being his doing. Not on purpose, of course." She added quickly. "Just, of the two of you, he's the one I'd expect to somehow unintentionally manage to pull someone else into a dream with him."
"…I suppose you're right." Hermione conceded, because the alternative was even more ridiculous. "The others—the one who did this intentionally—their dreams ended because they stopped their experiment, correct?"
"As far as we know." Lavender affirmed. "But there are rumors that it was for other reasons, like that they did change their futures through their dreams, but only in bad ways, and that one of them died because of their choices. Another story was that one of the people involved lost the ability to dream entirely, and so the dreams stopped that way. No one's really sure what the truth is."
Great. Hermione just loved legends like this; they certainly weren't useless due to the twisting of the story over time, not at all.
But she had a lot to think about now, on top of everything else she had to think about, and as annoyed as she was about that—and that she was having to take anything related to divination seriously—she also felt a distinct sense of gratitude for Parvati and Lavender. Although they had never been antagonistic or even really at odds with each other, at least not for long or about anything serious, Hermione had also never been particularly close to her dormmates. And yet here they were, both willing to help.
When she finally climbed into bed about ten minutes later, she expected to lie awake for some time. But exhaustion thankfully won out over nerves, and she drifted off to sleep.
This time, when Hermione awoke in the dream, she remembered.
The strange haze that typically hung over her at the beginning of these dreams was gone from the very beginning, replaced with the clarity of waking life. It was clearer even than the last dream, in which she'd been unaware of how she'd known what she'd known; now she remembered everything, from the previous dreams' contents to her conversations with Harry and Ron to the meetings with Dumbledore. She knew what she had to do.
Instead of going to class, Hermione left her dorm on a mission. No one stopped her on her way to the Headmaster's office, and just as before Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. But in his place, sitting plainly and perfectly upon Dumbledore's desk as if it was waiting for her, was the Sword of Gryffindor.
Hermione had never held the sword before. She wasn't sure what to expect, but when her fingers closed around the hilt, it felt strangely mundane; she knew this was an ancient weapon, a historical artefact, but it seemed just like any other sword and for the briefest moment she was worried. But she was getting ahead of herself, and right now her next task was to find Harry. That's what was important.
It took a moment to figure out how she wanted to proceed, but eventually she decided to tuck the sword under her left arm, and draw her wand with her right. She took a handful of floo powder in her free hand, tucking her arm tightly against her body to secure the sword, and stepped awkwardly into the fireplace.
"Riddle manor!"
It worked. The green flames cleared to show the drawing room, and Hermione's wand was still in hand while the sword was still under her arm. She immediately extended her wand forward without stepping from the relative safety of the fireplace, waiting and listening for any indication of Nagini's presence, but all was still and eerily silent.
Hermione twisted her left hand up to grab the hilt of the sword, and now with a wand in one hand and the sword in the other, she felt pretty confident about her chances. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the fireplace, and—
Nothing happened. The manor seemed quiet, empty, but Hermione wasn't going to trust it; she cast every variation of the revealing charm that she knew, but nothing came back out of the ordinary. There was no giant snake hiding within the manor.
For now, anyway.
She was not about to wait around for that to change, or to spend any more time in this place than she had to, and so Hermione quickly chose a direction and hoped it was the correct way out of the house. Thankfully, it was, and she had soon stepped out onto the unkempt grounds of the Riddle manor.
Even though it was morning, the sky was overcast, as if a perpetual gloom hung over this place and everywhere surrounding it. Hermione looked around for the graveyard, which she knew from Harry's description was at least some distance from the manor, and eventually caught sight of statues in the distance. The rolling, uneven terrain combined with the distance made it impossible to get a good look, and she hoped it was also the reason she couldn't see movement that might be Harry.
After another brief sweep to be sure Nagini wasn't in the tall grass of the yard, Hermione started down the hill as quickly as she could manage while carrying the sword. It wasn't heavy, but it was awkward, and the last thing she wanted to do was trip on a weed and impale herself. Dream or not, that would be incredibly unpleasant, and probably also very embarrassing.
She thought about shouting for Harry, but decided against it for the moment; she didn't want to risk drawing attention to either her or Harry unless absolutely necessary. Instead she was quiet, making steady progress in the direction of the graveyard, but the closer she got to the stones looming in the distance the worse she felt. It was as if the place was somewhere she was never meant to go, the very air so heavy that it felt like a weight on her heart.
"Hermione?"
As much as Hermione had expected to find Harry, and as much as it was the entire plan, she only realized when she heard his voice that she hadn't completely believed it would happen. But Harry was there, appearing cautiously from behind a small rocky outcropping, looking shaky and unwell but also incredibly relieved at the sight of her. He was dressed as he had been for the third task, clothes dirty and bloody and his right sleeve cut, and he was holding an unfamiliar wand that had to be Cedric's.
"You have the sword." Harry said, inclining his head just slightly toward the weapon, and Hermione nodded. It was an incredibly pathetic observation, as it would've been impossible to miss the sword, but she knew that wasn't the point. He was just coming to the same realization that she was.
"This really is real." She said, and it felt stupid to put it in words, but really didn't care. She could see in Harry's eyes that he didn't either; all that mattered was that they were both there. Together.
Hermione shoved her wand in her pocket and, careful of the sword, stepped forward to pull Harry into a hug. Often Harry would require a moment to respond to her hugs, needing a moment to get over some sort of initial surprise that still came over him even after five years, but this time was different. This time, he sank heavily against her, resting his forehead against her shoulder.
"We're in this together." She murmured, repeating what she'd told him in the empty classroom. "I'm with you."
"Yeah." Harry agreed again, just as he had before, and she felt as much as heard as he dragged in a deep breath and then lifted his head, and she let him go as he took a single step back. He still looked awful, but his characteristic determination had returned to his face, and a light had come back on in his eyes. "Okay. Well." Harry took another breath and turned his gaze toward a distant line of trees, marking the start of what looked like an ancient forest. "We have a horcrux to destroy."
They walked together in silence, both focused on their mission and on being on guard for anything that might try to stop them, but although the trip wasn't what Hermione would call peaceful they also didn't encounter anything dangerous on the way. It wasn't too deep into the forest itself that they found what they were looking for, although Hermione thought that calling the building a shack was generous. At this point, it was really nothing more than the ruins of what might've once been a small home, and had long since begun to be reclaimed by the forest.
"Can you feel it?" Harry asked, breaking the silence for the first time in awhile, and Hermione turned a quizzical look toward him before he elaborated. "The feeling of something calling to you."
Hermione frowned, but she turned her attention inward and concentrated on what she felt. She could feel magic, of course, both Harry's and an old hum that laid interwoven with the ruins, but none of that was unexpected. Nothing was calling her, and she shook her head. "No, Harry. Nothing."
Harry didn't look too thrilled with that answer, and neither was Hermione, but they'd have to discuss the implications of the issue later. They didn't actually know how long they had to get this done before they woke, and Hermione was quietly worried that it might happen at any moment, so they couldn't afford any unnecessary delays.
Harry seemed to be thinking the same, as he didn't bring it up either and instead stepped further into the shack. He located a particular place on the remains of the floor, and aimed Cedric's wand at it. "Diffindo."
The wood cracked, splintering in a circular pattern, and Hermione used her own wand to clear the shards. Beneath them, so incredibly out of place in the midst of all the gloom and decay, was a golden box.
Harry levitated the box out of the hole in the ground, and with another flick of Cedric's wand the lid opened, revealing what truly was a very ugly gold ring set with a large black stone. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione and then stepped back; Hermione had the sword, so she knew this all was in her hands now. "Remember, don't touch it."
"I won't, Harry." She assured him—she was certainly not going to forget that the object carried a curse—and put her wand back in her pocket so she could lift the sword with both hands. Carefully, her heart pounding with nerves, she held the blade out until the tip of it touched the ring, and she used the sword's blade to lift the ring from the box and deposit it onto the ground.
It looked so pathetic, lying there, that it was almost difficult to believe it was allegedly some sort of horrific soul container for Voldemort. But it was, and she was going to destroy it, and they were going to find out just how real this all truly was.
Hermione lifted the sword, and swung it down.
The blade connected, and the ring screamed.
Hermione felt the scream more than she heard it, as if the sound came from within her bones, drowning out any real sound around her and causing her very nerves to tremble. Her vision went dark at the edges, her senses so overwhelmed by the not-sound that sight seemed like an afterthought, and for a moment there was nothing else but herself and—
The ring. Hermione dragged her senses outward, forcing her tunneled vision to focus on horcrux; it was spinning rapidly in place on the ground, rolling along its edges, beginning to drift as it spun like some sort of malevolent top. Hermione stared at it in horrified shock, as it began to spin closer and closer, sending up a spray of blood as it crossed—
Blood?
She blinked hard, some of the haze finally clearing from her mind and senses, aware once more of the forest leaning in on them and the glint of the sword that she'd unknowingly dropped at her feet and the spinning of the ring and the blood pooling on the disintegrating wooden floor. She was also suddenly aware of Harry once more, finding him lying still and silent on the ground, the blood surely his even if she couldn't tell where or how he was hurt.
And the ring was slowly, purposefully moving toward him.
But it wasn't just the ring. Not anymore, at least; there was something else, something Hermione couldn't truly see or hear or even feel, flickering at the edge of her senses and only recognizable if she didn't think directly about it. Malevolence rolled from it in waves, something with no color but that her mind still interpreted as red glinting in the midst of it, the imprint of this thing shifting and twisting in and out of space itself.
As the ring drew closer and closer to Harry, Hermione didn't stop to think, acting on sheer instinct. She dropped to Harry's side and grabbed him around the shoulders, pulling him up against her chest and then lurching backwards on her knees, dragging Harry away from the horcrux and that thing, watching as the ring continued to spin closer. Still clutching Harry with one arm, the other she reached out blindly to her side, and her fingers closed over the hilt of the sword.
With one hand and singular purpose, she lifted the sword and swung once again.
The ring—or, as she realized, that being of nothingness that was bound to it—screamed once again. But this time was different, a death cry that shook her heart instead of her bones, and Hermione felt the red that gleamed within the echo turn toward her. She met its gaze until a moment later it was gone, as if it had never existed to begin with.