What had started as a battle between teachers that day had sinisterly shifted into an all-out war. They had known this was coming. Hermione, perhaps, most of all. And yet, for all their planning, they were utterly unprepared. She would rather live a millennia in that tent with the locket strapped to her neck than see her classmates glassy eyed and unmoving, sprawled across the stairs. It was sickening, it was terrible, but she would refuse to think it was their fault. It was not Harry's fault, it was not Severus' fault, she steeled herself; it was not even Dumbledore's fault no matter how much the seething hatred ate at her this moment. It was that of the snake-like tormenter who lived off of the oppression of others. The very man, if she could call him that, who was fighting his way into the castle to end her friend's life. But, she would be sure to end him first. She needed to end him; she needed to end him quickly before he- oh gods- she couldn't think that right now. She had the task at hand to accomplish. Harry went with Luna to find the lost diadem, while she and Ron had descended into the bowels of the Chamber of Secrets. For a moment she was in architectural awe, being petrified in her second year had kept her from experiencing this particular adventure. In a way, she was thankful.
And there it was, the deadly Basilisk that had petrified her once upon a time. Now, nothing but bones. Severus had known about this fantastic beast, did he come down here to collect the venom? Had he used it in his magnum opus, the stopper of death? She put a hand to her jacket's breast pocket for an instant, recalling the vial's purpose. It was for Harry, he'd said. To be used at the opportune time and not a moment later… No. She would make sure it didn't come to that. They would win this fight on their own terms. They would win, and then she would happily place the vial in Severus' waiting palm. Her optimism faltered for a moment as her treacherous mind whispered, if that palm has a pulse.
She crept up the bones of the creature whilst Ron waited on the dank floor with the cup. Hurry, her breath rushed in and out, hurry. She snapped one of the Basilisk's fang's with a significant amount of force, her adrenaline pushing her onward. With that, she hopped down from the skeleton. As she straightened herself from the fall she looked at Ron. In that instant, each knew something terrible would occur when the horcrux was no more. He gave her a nod of encouragement, "Go on."
She grit her teeth then, raising the fang over her head as Ron held the object steady. For Severus! She thought as she drove the spike into the metal object with a cry. It fizzled and popped with a black smoke. They leapt backward as the ghastly head of Voldemort arose from the charred remains, emanating a rattling wail. Could that be it? She thought, was he so weakened? No. There were echoes, just like the tremors after an earthquake. She glanced around her. "The water!" she looked to Ron with widened eyes, "Run!"
The two wasted no time, tiles clicking beneath their feet as they burst forward towards the exit. But it was no use. The tsunami curled above them, flattening them with its force as it fell. As all went black and Hermione couldn't breathe, her mind regressed to the last time she'd seen such a large wave. She was a child at the shore with mum and dad. As that wave had washed over her, her bemused mother and father stood over her, laughing along when they'd seen she was okay.
She blinked now as the water receded. She was not staring up at the summer sun or the smiles of the parents who had forgotten her. Above her there was only candlelight. She sputtered in the pain of the moment. Her head lolled to face a partially standing Ron. He offered her his hand, now clammy with water, and she took it. Together they pulled each other up. She would see their smiles again, she repeated with each step, and they would be for her. Perhaps puzzled and afraid at first, as they had been before, but slowly aware that their daughter was safe.