A/N: Death Eaters are not nice, remember? This fic is M rated for a reason, mainly due to this chapter. We're in for a bit of a bumpy ride with bruised morals and upset consciences due to a case of bilateral non-consent and a fair bit of violence.
*x*x*x*x*x*x*
Spinner's End
Sunday morning, end of July
She knew she shouldn't have but there was no way to take it back, to unsee those memories.
"Why?" The word slipped out without her meaning to say it. She didn't know what she was asking.
He looked small, dejected and miserable where he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at nothing but especially not at her, clad in a scruffy t-shirt and pyjama pants that had seen better days.
"I… I don't know."
She left him there and went back into the room to pour the memories back into the vial which she put on the floor outside his old room.
She didn't even know why she'd done it. She had woken up early for some reason, feeling refreshed and rested while he was still asleep next to her. The need for a bathroom visit had roused her but when she returned to the room she saw the vial of memories on his bedside table. The Pensieve was in her room, his old bedroom, and for some reason it felt natural to snatch the vial and pour it into the basin. She had hesitated a bit when she saw the fragments shimmering in and out of view over the bowl, violence and brutality evident even in those small snippets, but had told herself she deserved to know whatever it was he had removed from his mind.
The memories had been brutal. Severus' father, as tall as his son but stocky and pudgy after years of drinking, his black hair streaked with white and cropped much shorter, being beaten up viciously and then left to drown in a barrel.
The girl was worse, after a very intense duel. It had been obvious to Hermione that she wasn't there of her own free will, but Severus had gone ahead with it anyway, as if it didn't mean anything. Seeing him in that position, fucking a girl in a dirty dungeon while all his friends were watching, made her feel ill when she thought about what they'd been up to the night before. It could have been her, that girl. She felt repulsed by herself when the thought of that scene made her insides pulsate, hot and heavy.
She stayed in the small room until she heard the front door slam closed. He must have left.
The day passed. She didn't eat, didn't do anything but the occasional bathroom visit. He had taken the vial and the house was empty apart from Crookshanks who was dozing in the sitting room, with no sign of his return. Did she want him back, to talk about it, or did she want him to stay away? She wasn't sure, but the feeling that she'd just made a terrible mistake grew even heavier.
He didn't show up, though. Not that evening, and not the next day. She sent a message to Gringotts, saying she needed a few days leave. Towards the evening she was starting to worry. Menace was gone too, and even Crookshanks was getting restless. Had she made a mistake? Well, obviously, but how bad was it exactly? What if he didn't return? Would he ever talk to her again?
Her anxiety grew as evening fell. She had no idea how, but she needed to make things right, whatever that might mean. There was a pit in her stomach where butterflies had once resided, whenever she thought about him. She needed to talk to someone, urgently.
After running through her mental lists she sprang into action, getting dressed, brushing her teeth again and twisting her hair into submission in a messy ponytail before Apparating to Hogsmeade. It was that or the Leaky, and she hoped the Three Broomsticks would be more amenable to a Floo call without being overheard. Rosmerta was there, working as a barmaid and not yet the owner of the pub, but she smiled at Hermione and offered her a private dining room for her call even though the pub was nearly empty. A few patrons were eating dinner over by the windows but it was rather quiet otherwise.
"Hestia?" Hermione called into the green flames, hoping she had the right address. She didn't see much in the room, only dark wooden panels across from the Floo.
A girl, no older than eight, appeared in the room. "She's in her room, who's calling?"
"Hermione Granger, we're friends from Hogwarts."
The girl tilted her head sideways and appeared to be thinking about something. "Okay, just a moment."
Soon Hermione was seated on Hestia's bed with a cup of tea. The room was small and cosy, with light green walls and a bedspread covered in pink roses matching the curtains. A dark wooden wardrobe took up space by the door, and there was a desk littered with books and parchment by the window. Hestia sat in the desk chair, leaving the bed as the only other option for a seat. Hestia had called for an elf to provide them with tea and some biscuits, and then warded the room carefully against intruders or eavesdroppers, especially in the form of nosey siblings.
"I don't know where to start," Hermione murmured. "Thanks for having me."
"From the beginning," Hestia suggested.
Taking a deep breath Hermione began talking, about Severus and the ball and confused feelings and everything else, beginning with the letters they'd exchanged while she was at Hogwarts, and ending with finding the memories. She glossed over the details of his initiation but didn't hide the fact that he was taking the Dark Mark.
When she was done she sat in silence while Hestia was deep in thought. She'd talked herself hoarse but the tea was soothing.
"So you snooped on him. Like reading your sibling's diary but worse." Hestia crossed her arms, frowning.
Hermione carefully put the tea cup aside and groaned. She hadn't thought about it that way, but it was absolutely correct. "Gods, what a mess. I need to apologise to him, don't I? Not that he'll ever trust me again after this."
Hestia nodded. "And figure out what you want. Can you trust him again now that you know what he did? Besides, do you know how he felt about it?"
Hermione sighed to herself. It was so difficult to make sense of it all. Could she, could he? What were the alternatives?
After some coaxing Hermione joined Hestia's family for dinner, introduced as a friend from Hogwarts. It was difficult to pretend everything was fine, but after a while she was able to relax a little and enjoy the company. Hestia's father worked somewhere deep in the Ministry and her mother had a part-time job at an apothecary on Diagon Alley, and the three sisters — Hestia, Gwenog and Frieda — appeared well-adjusted and happy. It was surreal, to be surrounded by so much normalcy.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
The Past
Elsewhere
He didn't know what to do, where to go. Everything had just shattered, the shards of his mind glittering like coloured glass, meaningless without the cohesion. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe with the hard band of anguish clamped over his chest, over his forehead. She shouldn't have viewed his memories, obviously. But somehow her actions had highlighted the fact he'd been trying to overlook whenever she was around. He, Severus Snape, was an utterly despicable human being who didn't deserve to live, and most definitely didn't deserve her company.
The memories threatened to overwhelm him as he replaced them inside his mind, forcing him to replay the events as if they were just happening.
Without having a clear goal in mind he twisted into an Apparition, heedless of the risk of Splinching, only to land outside a hedgerow and some posh gates. He threw up over the gate post and fell in a messy heap on the path. The gravel cut into his cheek but he barely noticed over the events rolling through his mind as if he was there, again.
It was a few weeks after he graduated Hogwarts, and he had been called to Malfoy Manor for an audience. The elves had shown him to the Lord's smaller drawing room, with a large fireplace in dark red marble and several large armchairs around a low mahogany table. The room was empty but for Abraxas' two hounds dozing by the fire, and the Dark Lord seated in the best armchair. He was a handsome wizard, his hair slicked back like an old-fashioned Muggle movie star, dressed in dark grey robes with silver embroidery.
"Come to me, Severus."
The Dark Lord smiled at him, gently, as Severus stepped closer. He reached out a hand and cupped Severus' cheek, his eyes boring into him.
"You long for this, don't you? Power, recognition. You understand that Muggles cannot be trusted, you've seen it with your own eyes, how he could taint a Pureblood witch into something poor and pitiable, someone who didn't even dare to use magic?"
Memories whirled through his mind, as if dredged up by an unseen hand. Tobias Snape hitting his ma, the ever-present bottles of beer and stronger booze, the blackness of his gaze when he turned on Severus, the sting of the belt or his hand when Severus hadn't managed to crawl out of the way fast enough.
"Yes, my Lord," Severus managed to croak.
The Dark Lord released him. "Never again, Severus, will you cower before a Muggle. Now, I heard you are a passable potioneer already?"
Severus puffed out his chest. "I have an O in my Potions NEWT and have improved several of the standard potions already. I would dare say I'm more than passable, sir."
The Dark Lord smiled again, and rose from the chair. His hand came down on Severus' shoulder and he started leading the younger man out of the room, still talking. "In that case I will see what I can do for you, if you in turn will help me when I have need of your skills. Do you accept, Severus? Will you join us to make the world a better, safer place for us all? Will you take my Dark Mark as a token of your commitment?"
"Yes," Severus breathed. "I will pledge myself to you, my Lord." His chest felt full to bursting.
"Good. You will be picked up next Friday. Make sure you do your best and I will consider it."
He met up with Yaxley and Lucius at the location they'd agreed on. They Apparated him Side-Along to a dank unlit alley somewhere in an unnamed small English town. They were behind a pub, the shabby pub sign on the street corner said Dirty Goose which seemed rather apt. The summer night was still and silent otherwise, slightly damp and a bit chilly from the rains earlier that evening.
When he turned around it was clear he had an audience. The Dark Lord appeared around the corner, flanked by several of his followers. He felt the buzzing of several wards go up around the area. The others were all dressed in black robes and masks, making them oddly anonymous but still blatantly threatening. Would he soon join their ranks? Lucius and Yaxley pulled out their own masks and went to stand with the others, although Lucius' blond locks still shone in the streetlight.
"I have brought someone here to meet you, Severus," the Dark Lord said. He stepped aside, raising his hand as if to present someone.
Dolohov, recognisable without his mask, pushed someone forward with a rough shove and pulled off the hood they had put over the man's head. Severus almost lost his dinner right then and there when he saw who they had brought.
Tobias Snape stood there, blinking against the harsh glare of the Lumos. He was unshaven, unkempt, likely drunk, and looked much older than his years. Slowly the Muggle turned his head, comprehension slowly dawning. "Son?"
Severus shook his head. "No, I'm not." He hated the flash of fear that had run through him when he saw the older man's face, as if he were still seven and being kicked down the stairs by his father's heavy boots, or hiding in the cleaning cupboard when the older man slapped his ma across the face after shouting at her to clean better, or listening to the rhythmic creaking of his parents' bedsprings and his ma's whimpers after a bout of loud arguing.
The Dark Lord nodded, a small smile on his lips. It was clear what he expected.
Rage took over and without realising what he was about to do Severus stepped forward quickly and punched Tobias Snape in the gut. The next strike hit the man's jaw. He was completely silent, lost in himself, his rage an icy fury fuelled by every harsh word, every slap and shove, every day he'd lived in fear during his childhood, carefully calculating and measuring the older man's mood.
The others were cheering him on but this clearly wasn't just about him getting redemption. It was a test. Severus looked around. He had to make this count, he was already way past the point of no return. They were looking for a show, for him to prove he could be one of them.
He Transfigured a pebble into a large wooden barrel. The back door to the pub was right next to them, and he sent a silent Accio at it to cause several beer kegs to roll out through the door. A flick of his wand had the beer pouring out into the barrel, filling it halfway with cheap lager. With a flick of his wand he sent his father soaring into the air and deposited him neatly in the barrel, head first. The man flailed, his legs kicking uselessly against the sky, not gaining purchase against the sides of the barrel.
Severus pulled him up again. "Had enough to drink yet, Da?"
The man gasped and blinked against the streetlight mixed with wandlight from the onlookers. "You piece of shit, you were never my son!"
With a snarl Severus dunked him again, and pulled him up what felt like a lifetime later, dumping him on the ground.
The Dark Lord took a step closer. "Very good, Severus. I think it is time to end it."
Dazed he came back to reality. He didn't recognise the man lying before him, covered in blood from various cuts and bruises, wet as a drowned rat, wheezing and gasping for air. With a flick of his wand the Dark Lord took control of the situation, sending Tobias Snape head first into the barrel again.
It took a surprisingly long time for those legs to stop kicking. Too long, not long enough.
He didn't notice when the onlookers left with the Dark Lord. Lucius grabbed him roughly by the arm and Apparated him to the lower levels of Lestrange Manor. Severus felt numb, with grief and horror over what he'd just done, mixed with a residue of the rage that had powered him earlier. What would Ma say?
Lucius released him in the middle of the room. A much bigger crowd had gathered. They were all robed and masked, and looking at him with almost palpable loathing through the eye slits of their masks. The room was poorly lit by some flaming torches set on the rough stone pillars.
Without warning one of them stepped forward and shot a hex at Severus who barely managed to dodge it before sending off a Stunner in return. It flew high over his target, missing its mark. Most of the audience fell back, the Dark Lord standing on a raised dais with Bellatrix by his side. Was this another test?
A second Death Eater joined in after a nod from the Dark Lord, and Severus felt the duelling trance fall over him. His wand moved on its own accord while he dodged and hexed, shielded and advanced. There was nothing else, only this, the hexes and curses and adrenaline. The Death Eaters didn't play fair, using hexes and curses that were borderline illegal and definitely Dark, so he responded in kind. Spells flew high and low, hitting the walls and probably some of the onlookers if their shields weren't strong enough.
He managed to take out the second Death Eater by reflecting a Leg-Locker Curse on him that the first one tried to trip him with, and swiftly following with an Expelliarmus. The remaining Death Eater hid behind a pillar which Severus quickly reduced to a pile of rubble with a Bombarda, not caring if the house fell down on top of them. He barely dodged a Choking curse before finally managing to fell his opponent with a combination of Jelly-Legs and Sectumsempra, followed by another Expelliarmus. Blood ran from the other man's side where the curse had hit, quickly pooling beneath him.
Breathing heavily he handed the two wands to a bystander while others sorted out his opponents and someone put the room to rights again, repairing the walls and pillar.
"Step forward, Severus Snape, and take your place among us," the Dark Lord said.
He stumbled forward. There was nothing else for it, after all. The Dark Lord reached for his arm, slitting the sleeve of his robes to expose his pale veined forearm, palm up.
White-hot pain blazed through him, from his arm and through every nerve ending of his body, the Dark magic of the bond crackling through him, sickeningly sweet and yet horrifying all the same. A moment later pain turned to pleasure, flooding his senses, his mind, his body, stronger than the best orgasm he'd ever chased. It was only the thought of his mum that kept him from spilling in his pants like a fourth-year.
Adrenaline and shock and arousal and Dark magic were still overloading his brain, barely letting any other thought surface. Breathing hard he tried to focus, to not embarrass himself too much in front of everyone else. He'd done it. He was one of them, now. No longer the outcast, the poor misfit whom no one liked.
"Your reward is over there, Severus," the Dark Lord said. He gestured towards a table in the back of the room.
Did he mean…? A girl lay on top of the table, with robes haphazardly opened at the front. She looked at him, pulling aside the robes a bit more to display a pink nipple and the bush at the juncture of her thighs. He didn't recognise her from Hogwarts although she looked to be roughly his age, dark hair and eyes and perky tits.
"Please take me," the girl said in a hoarse voice.
He walked up to the table, scanning the room. Another test? Mulciber Senior was standing next to her, and Dolohov, both of them leering at the girl. She writhed under his gaze but he didn't see any restraints on her, magical or otherwise. Adrenaline mixed with a fresh wave of fear at the thought of having to perform like that in front of such an audience. He'd only done it once before, at Hogwarts with a girl who thought he would help her cheat on a test. And now this, to be forced to expose himself in front of everyone, to fuck someone he'd never seen before.
"Take me now," the girl whined, her gaze hot on him, but the tone of her voice was slightly off, hollow and flat. "I'm ready for you."
Readying himself he pushed inside her, hoping he wouldn't mess it up. He tried to focus on a point on the wall, not looking at any of them, not even the girl.
She clamped down on him, the friction almost unbearable and suddenly he understood. Her wild eyes, the hollow voice, the writhing. Imperius. Dolohov leered at her again and then locked eyes with Severus, grinning more widely as he flicked his wand at the girl, releasing the spell. She screamed and started to flail her arms but it was cut short by an Incarcerous and Silencing spell. She wasn't at all willing and wanting him, she was terrified and here he was in the middle of raping her in the Lestrange family ballroom. Bile rose in his throat but there was no way out of this but to finish, to actually go through with it. He closed his eyes. Lily… Please, please forgive me. It only took him a couple of thrusts to finish, pulling out to spill his seed on her thighs. He surreptitiously flicked his wand down from his sleeve and cast a simple Healing charm over her pelvis, one he'd learned from his numerous stays at Hogwarts infirmary, followed by a Tergeo on them both when he saw the blood on his member from where he'd torn her inside.
The others descended on the girl when he withdrew, but Lucius caught sight of him and intercepted his unsteady gait, leading him off out into the garden where he emptied his stomach over a bush. He felt dead inside, empty and hollow, only the brand throbbing on his arm reminding him that he was still alive. He'd caused his father's death and raped a girl and now he was forever branded, a murderer, a rapist, an outcast.
"That was your father?" the blond aristocrat asked quietly and handed him a glass of water. "It looked… personal."
Severus nodded and rinsed his mouth.
"Merlin's pants, that's harsh even if he was a shitty father."
Severus sank down on the cool grass. "Lucius, what have we done? What is this?" He didn't even point at his arm, the meaning clear anyway.
"Listen, never ever let him see those thoughts," Lucius whispered harshly. "Shove them down, hide them deep. I've seen him kill wizards for less. He always knows, he always finds those who want out, who aren't loyal."
The Malfoy heir pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and handed it over. Severus took a large swig, coughing as it burned on the way down, then another.
Lucius took the bottle back, stoppering it. "Look. Don't get drunk in this company, ever, and don't let those brutes pull you down. You're smarter than this, Severus. If you lose control you'll never find yourself again and there won't be anything left to bury."
Severus nodded. There was nothing left to say.
"Do you want to stay tonight?" Lucius asked quietly, but Severus shook his head.
Lucius had to go back inside but Severus stayed a while, listening to the sounds of the night around him. His arm burned but he almost welcomed it, a way to counteract the leaden feeling of anguish in his chest. The events of the evening kept repeating in his mind. His father, the duel, the girl. His father, the duel, the girl.
Somehow he made it back to Spinner's End. The street looked the same as it always had, yet completely changed. Perhaps it was him.
"Severus?"
His mother came down the stairs, carrying an old suitcase. It looked heavy. She stopped at the end of the stairs, looking up at him. He froze, looking at her. He hadn't noticed before how much taller he'd become. She looked old, with streaks of grey in her hair and dark rings under her eyes, the large nose he'd inherited making her look a bit like a vulture.
She didn't say anything, nor did he, as she pulled on her old, shabby coat. The door shut quietly behind her.
Her keys lay on the kitchen table, along with some official-looking Muggle papers related to the house and a very short note. They came for him. I thought you'd be different. Water bill due next week.
That night he pulled down his old teddy bear from the cabinet in the bedroom, but not even Mr Scruffy could remove the images from inside his eyelids.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Some time much later he was roused by someone poking him in the side with a boot.
"Snape? Are you drunk?"
He cracked an eye open and blearily managed to make out something tall and blond. Lucius Malfoy sighed and Levitated him through the gates with a flick of his wand.
It took a long time and several glasses of Firewhisky for Lucius to coax the story out of him. By the end of it, Severus felt quite drunk. It was late already and he hadn't eaten anything all day, so the Firewhisky hit harder than usual.
"So, you nearly get laid, she snoops through your worst secrets, and you run off like a dragon is after you? And end up here?" Lucius leaned forward, elbows on knees, and massaged his temples. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd be able to mess it up that badly, she looked like she had a thing for you. Why did you remove the memories?"
Severus just shrugged and took another big gulp of Firewhisky. They had always chafed and hurt, whenever his thoughts strayed too close to something even tangentially related to them, which coincidentally meant most of Spinner's End since the house was intrinsically linked with Tobias Snape. The bit about the girl hadn't been as bad most days but when Hermione… when she unexpectedly had shown interest in him that part of the memories was threatening to overwhelm him. They were still being repeated in his mind, interspersed by her scent, her kisses, the way she'd felt in his arms when they went to sleep.
Lucius sighed. "You can stay here for a while. I'll Owl Pyrites, say you're sick with something."
He rose to leave. Severus barely noticed, lost in memories.
~oo~oo~oo~oo~
Little Hangleton
End of July
She felt miserable but that didn't matter. She needed to continue the work even with Severus missing. She hadn't heard from him at all, and it had been nearly impossible to focus at work when she'd gone back. In the end the Goblins had sent her home, telling her to come back some other day when she'd shovelled the shale out of her head, as they said. The meaning was clear, anyway.
It was quite obvious that Slytherin's ring was the most important Horcrux to find, before the Headmaster got wind of it. Septima had helped her to verify the location, sending some news clips by owl. Little Hangleton was not exactly a well-known place even in the Wizarding world, so it helped to have as much information as possible before going. Amelia had also helped to set up an unregistered, untraceable and spell-activated Portkey to the village since she couldn't Apparate to a location without having been there before unless she had really good pictures of it.
Today was a Thursday and also Harry's birthday, if she hadn't messed up the timeline too much. Her thoughts kept straying back to him but she had to distract herself when thinking about his actual birthday. It was way too weird to consider her friend like that.
Regulus had said he was busy without giving any further details, making Hermione wonder what he was up to, but he had said she could use the Black summer residence garden as a meeting place. She arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and was trying not to pace too anxiously under some apple trees. No one was around, neither Regulus nor Fidelma. She felt a bit guilty about neglecting the younger witch, perhaps she should try to contact her soon, to see how she was coping and what she wanted to do about her situation.
Instead, she had enlisted the help of Caradoc and Kingsley, and had also contacted Frank Longbottom. She knew nothing about him but since their discussion after the Order meeting she had been wanting to see if he might be trustworthy, and hoped this would be a decent opportunity. As if on cue, three Apparitions rent the stillness of the garden. The wizards nodded at each other and her. It seemed no introductions were needed, and all three of them were dressed sensibly in sturdy robes in drab colours.
"Just us?" Caradoc asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "I mean, we're a pretty good team so just wondering if we're waiting for someone."
Hermione nodded. "Just us. I don't know exactly what to expect, probably heavy wards and some nasty curses. The item is cursed too, did I say that? You must absolutely not touch it even if it feels irresistible."
Kingsley nodded. "Yes, you said. Where are we going, though?"
Digging around in her bag Hermione pulled out the Portkey, a Quidditch beater's bat, and waited for the others to grasp it. With a tap of her wand and the activation phrase — Hourglass — they were soon whisked through space, holding on for dear life before landing in an overgrown field behind a derelict barn. Hermione was relieved it was over, Portkey travel was worse than Floo in her opinion, but Apparating with three others to a place she'd never visited would have been much more difficult.
They weren't far from the Gaunt shack, confirmed by a quick look at the simple map Septima had sent. After checking the area for spells and magical activity they made their way carefully through the tiny and rather shabby village. Despite it being high summer the weather was chilly, a fine mist cloaking the treetops and buildings in the distance. Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak tighter, noticing the others doing the same. Frank and Kingsley had made sure they were covered by his Notice-Me-Not charms and some other Auror-specific personal charms, but they had refrained from using Disillusionment charms since Hermione wanted to make sure they could see each other. They didn't see anyone, though, and the whole village felt deserted.
The rickety shack looked ready to give up the ghost if someone looked at it sideways. The wizards started casting numerous spells around the area, checking for wards, Dark activity or anything else out of place. Hermione tried to take note of what they were doing, especially when they detected and dismantled a ward against intrusion. She did a scan of her own and spotted a ward against Muggles which they left intact.
"Wait," Caradoc said.
He scanned the area again, making a new spot light up near the corner of the building. There was a rather nasty trap for anyone trespassing without Gaunt blood. It took the combined effort of Frank and Caradoc to divert the hex towards werewolves instead, hoping none of those would ever make an appearance.
The door opened with a creak after a quick Alohomora. The shack was dark even with a Lumos from her wand lighting the way. Hermione wished she had a proper flashlight instead, to free up her wand. There was one small sitting room with an ancient couch that by now was mostly metal springs and dust, a small kitchen with a rickety dining table, and a small bedroom. The building was open to the rafters and the roof was noticeably sagging in several spots.
"I think we should look underneath the floorboards and check for loose panels in the walls." She vaguely remembered Harry talking about that, but she only had third-hand recollections via Harry from Professor Dumbledore so it was a bit difficult to know what to expect.
The sitting room held nothing of value. Kingsley and Frank checked the couch and walls while Hermione made a makeshift lantern out of a glass jar and bluebell flames, feeling a bit silly for not having recalled the spell faster. She cast a detection charm for Dark signatures, trying to tune it to what the Horcrux would feel like, and after a few attempts she sensed something in the kitchen, near the pantry.
"Over here I think. Kingsley, can you make sure we have a way out and that no one arrives?"
The Auror-in-training positioned himself near the outer door, just in case, wand ready. Caradoc was next to her, wand out, while Frank hovered nearby, scanning the room.
The floorboards were loose and easy enough to move. Buried beneath was a small brass case with a crude snake drawn on top.
A dust cloud rose from the floor and from nowhere something started hissing at them. The cloud started swirling, more and more dust rising up to meet it, causing it to become elongated and swirl in a spiral that was trying to encircle the case. A snake started taking shape. Just as it rose its blunt head and opened its jaws Frank hit it with a simple Vipera Evanesca.
She didn't trust the case. It looked too innocuous, too pretty. Caradoc apparently had a similar idea, so when she Levitated it to take it outside he cast a shimmering shield all around it. Something eased in her head when the shield solidified, a pressure she'd barely registered, like a potential migraine that had yet to emerge.
There was a creak. A rustle of dust and particles fell from the barely put-together ceiling. A slow groan from the walls, then another. Had the Horcrux' influence somehow kept the whole house together?
"Get out!" Frank shouted.
Hermione didn't need to be told twice. They ran for the door which had jammed shut when the walls sagged, so Kingsley blasted a hole in it with a strong Bombarda. Frank threw up a shield around them. Glass splintered when the windows succumbed to the rising tension in the walls and the whole house came down almost on top of them just after Caradoc made it out.
"All okay?" Kingsley asked, scanning their surroundings.
All was calm, perhaps too calm. At least they were unharmed.
"What do we do with this, though?" Frank asked. "It's kind of obvious someone was here, now."
Hermione snorted, her legs still shaking from adrenaline. That was the understatement of the month, at the very least. The case had made it out intact, luckily. She still needed to verify that the Horcrux was there, but the slimy viciousness oozing from the case made her pretty certain. She dug through her bag to find the containment box she'd prepared, a simple wooden box reinforced with heavy wards. The brass case opened with a click, revealing the ring. The Resurrection Stone looked innocuous enough within its golden confinement but it seemed that, too, was as treacherous as the Horcrux which seemed to be lodged in the gold band rather than in the Stone itself. There was a pull from it, an oily whisper asking her to put it on, to wear it, but at least this one was easy to resist. Her dead didn't belong to this time period, at least not yet, and no one she might Summon from it would know who she had once been to them. She Levitated the ring out from the brass case and into the containment box, heaving a sigh of relief when the wards she had prepared earlier pulled themselves tight around it.
Placing a pebble Transfigured into a copy of the ring she closed the brass lid again. Caradoc offered to keep the containment box until they could destroy the Horcrux, saying he could keep it safe and out of the way. Hermione accepted, feeling guilty over being relieved that he offered.
"Let's make it even more obvious, then," Kingsley said, poking at the rubble with his boot. "Caradoc, can you get the anti Muggle ward down in a way that makes it look as if it decayed naturally?"
It was a strange idea but one that made a certain amount of sense. Blasting a hole through the now-collapsed roof they buried the brass box in the same spot again, and then set the whole shack ablaze. The Muggles would see it and probably be surprised to discover a building they hadn't known to exist, but any visiting Death Eater would simply think the wards had failed naturally. It wouldn't fool the Dark Lord, of course, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that before they had secured the rest.
Severus still wasn't back when she returned to the cold and dark house. She'd forgotten to get groceries and Crookshanks meowed impatiently at her from the kitchen, wanting her to fill his food bowl. Somehow she'd thought he would be there, that he would have arrived during the course of the evening and that everything would go back to normal.
After showering and choking down a handful of stale crackers she went to bed, shivering under the blankets but not from cold.
