Author's Note: Did I horrify everyone with the last chapter? It's been so quiet I can't tell if I've scared all the readers away. I hope not! But I will say that if the last chapter surprised you or caught you off-guard, I would like to politely encourage you to reread the story's summary and pay special close attention to the tag 'Revenge'.

Chapter Twenty-Five

There was no time to stand in the corridor to celebrate her victory. Being in the castle a moment longer than necessary was just asking for terrible trouble. Severus Snape wasn't the only Death Eater who was a member of the Hogwarts faculty. If the wrong person caught her, it wouldn't matter much that she just destroyed another horcrux. Her life would be over.

Anxious to get out of the castle, Hermione spun around to head straight for the secret passage she knew would take her through the castle faster. She wasn't even able to make it a step away before she slammed quite literally into the Headmaster. The expression of horror on his face couldn't be ignored. How much had he witnessed of what just happened?

"What did you do, Miss Granger?"

She had to fight the urge to laugh. Somehow it didn't seem like the right time to be so flippant, but she wouldn't tell a falsehood. There was nothing that she did that she would ever be ashamed of.

"Absolutely nothing. It was the idiot Crabbe who cast the Fiendfyre. If you want to blame someone for what happened in that room, it was all his fault."

Kingsley's words about Fiendfyre being in the wrong hands rang through her mind again. He hadn't been wrong in the slightest. Crabbe was definitely a fool for trying to cast it. How could he expect that he would be able to control it when he struggled with other more basic spells that even first years mastered? Not a single tear would ever drop from her eye for the arsehole. He got exactly what he deserved. As far as she was concerned, the world was already a far better place without him in it. She thought she could even feel the collective IQ increase a smidgen.

"But it's done. I found what I was looking for and destroyed it."

Snape remained in a daze when she walked away. A small part of her felt a little bit sorry for what the wizard was about to be faced with. He likely couldn't believe he was going to have to explain how three students were killed in one accident. If parents knew that students were casting dark curses like Fiendfyre, they wouldn't be happy. She was just thankful that he didn't try to stop her from escaping. That seemed to prove to her even more that he really had been on her side all along.

Sneaking back out of the castle felt more difficult than sneaking in had been. Hours had passed since she was last trying to make her way up to the Room of Requirement. Most of the students in the castle were already in bed. Long past curfew, if she ran into someone in the corridors, she would have a much harder time explaining why she was there. It was imperative that no one suspect she had ever been inside.

Only out in the cold night air could she breathe easily again. Though the empty grounds were eerie and she kept convincing herself she was hearing terrible animal sounds from within the Forbidden Forest, being able to run across open land instead of lurk in dark corners felt a little easier. Once she was outside, she didn't stop running until she stood in front of the Whomping Willow. Even then she only stopped long enough to charm a fallen stick to push the necessary knot to open the secret passage.

Just as he promised, Kingsley was still waiting for her inside the Shrieking Shack. The moment she emerged from the passage and he could see with his own eyes that she was whole, he was relieved, ready to drag her back to the safe house. For at least a minute he held her tight in his arms to remind himself that she was unscathed and whole.

Relief quickly turned to concern when he noticed that parts of her robes were burned. She hadn't entered the castle in a damaged uniform. It was only as he examined her arms and hands closer that she realized she had been burned by the fire. All of the adrenaline that had been coursing through her during the ordeal kept her from feeling the pain as she should have. The longer she was away, the more her body could calm down enough to show her how much it was injured.

"We need to get you some healing potions immediately."

"I'm all right. It looks worse than it is."

Kingsley took her hand to lead her out of the Shrieking Shack. Before she would climb out of the basement window, she stopped. There hadn't even been a chance for her to tell him what happened.

"Wait, Kingsley. You didn't even ask if I was successful."

"At this point, I don't care if you were. I want to get us out of this fucking shack."

When he was determined, there was no stopping him. Knowing that he would be much more open to listening to the details of what happened if they were somewhere he felt safe, she didn't say another word until they were out of the Shrieking Shack and in the back garden of Tonks' family home.

"I found it."

She made her announcement just seconds before he opened the door to the kitchen. A smirk appeared on his lips.

"Of course you did. You wouldn't have come back if you hadn't."

He knew her very well. When had that happened? Expecting more time alone just the two of them to go over what she experienced due to the late hour, Hermione was surprised to see that few of the other temporary inhabitants of the house were asleep. A large percentage of the survivors sat around the large table in the kitchen waiting for news. At least a dozen pairs of anxious eyes were on her when she stepped inside. She tried to offer them the brightest smile she could.

"I found the horcrux. It was in the Room of Hidden Things just like Fred suggested. It was destroyed."

There was relief on the faces of the other Order members, but she couldn't ignore they were all looking at her strangely. She remembered how Kingsley looked when he got his first glimpse of her crawling out of the passage. Maybe she looked worse than she realized.

"It was Fiendfyre. My robes got caught in it."

No one in the room seemed to have anything to say in response. Anxious to avoid any uncomfortable questions when the initial shock wore off, Hermione didn't need much encouragement from Kingsley to follow him up the stairs. While he ran her a hot bath, he cleaned her visible wounds with dittany and some other foul smelling salve he brought with him.

"I've put a healing potion in the water. Just soak in it for a little while and you should feel much better."

Before he left her alone to take her bath, Hermione made certain to kiss him in gratitude. She didn't understand why he was being so kind to her, but she had no complaints. Just as he promised, she felt better almost instantly after sliding down underneath the hot water. There were far more wounds than she ever realized. It was something of a miracle she had been able to get out of the room at all. If she had been just a little bit slower or in the wrong place, she never would've made it out. Her ashes would be mixed with the ashes of centuries of hidden things.

She knew she should feel some guilt for killing Draco. It was nothing small to take a life, especially when it had been deliberate. Even though she knew she should have some remorse, she didn't. Not at all. She would do it again if she had to. Draco deserved death after what he took away from her. Thanks to the loss of her freedom, she would never know if she could've helped keep her friends alive.

One down, two to go. If it took until her dying breath, she would figure out how to kill both Dolohov and Thorfinn. They would be much harder than the idiot boy, but she would do whatever was necessary to ensure they didn't get to enjoy a long life. All three of them deserved to die in horrifically painful ways. She would never forgive any of them for keeping her a captive when Harry and Ron were dying.

A vial of sleeping potion waited for her on the edge of the sink when she climbed out of the bathtub. After she dressed, she drank every drop and made her way across the corridor to Kingsley's room where he waited for her in his bed. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so many questions she wanted to ask him. Was it normal to not feel the slightest tinge of regret for what was essentially a stone cold murder? But, unsure where to even start the conversation, she chose instead just to close her eyes and fall asleep in his arms. It was easier.

The next morning, afternoon really, when she woke up Hermione was alone. She was grateful for the healing and sleeping potions. Except for an odd numbness that she felt on the top of her head and just behind her eyes, she felt relatively normal again. Was it normal to feel numb? She supposed it had something to do with the exposure to extreme amounts of dark magic. One didn't walk away from that without any side effects.

Laying around in bed seemed like a waste of time. She was anxious to get up and have real discussions with other members of the Order of what they were going to do next. The end felt so much closer. Was it ridiculous of her to hope that she might actually be able to survive long enough to see it? That seemed like an impossibility just a short time earlier. Destroying a horcrux brought with it a profound sense of accomplishment and optimism.

Word about her successful mission got out. The house was nearly full when she made it downstairs. Repeatedly she kept being congratulated for what she had done. Though she knew they were talking about finding and destroying the horcrux, she liked to think they meant killing Draco Malfoy. It was one of the things she was most proud of in her entire life.

A meeting was called when it was known that she was awake again. They must have all been waiting for her to come downstairs. Some of the hope she witnessed in the others seemed to dim when they were all seated at the table. Could no one be happy for more than a few minutes at a time?

"By our estimations, now that Hermione had destroyed Ravenclaw's diadem, the only remaining horcrux is the snake."

All of the air felt as if it had been let out of the room when Kingsley reminded them about the fucking snake. It was by far the most dangerous and seemingly impossible horcrux to destroy. No one had any ideas for what they could do next to try to get close to it.

"The snake is too close to You-Know-Who. We can't get close to it unless we lure him out into a big battle."

"Or if we had an insider he trusted."

"Who do we know who would help us that he trusts?"

"No one except Snape. I'm not even sure he's still all that trusted."

Neither plan was ideal. A battle would put far too many of them at risk. There would be more casualties than they were comfortable with considering they had so few to begin with. The Order just kept shrinking. Even more were likely to run if they were expected to join the rest of them in some battle.

And they were unfortunately low on insiders to the Dark Lord's ranks. Trust was in such low supply those days that most struggled to even trust the ones on their side. Looking for an enemy to turn against their own seemed impossible.

"I just don't think we can do it."

"Won't the snake eventually die a natural death?"

"I don't think so, but it's more likely that it will than we can kill it."

"This is all madness. How are we supposed to do anything that dangerous?"

The arguing and constant negativity got on Hermione's nerves. She couldn't even participate in the conversation without wanting to curse every single person present. How could one room be so full of so many pathetic cowards? She didn't see any of them doing anything helpful. The simmering hatred she usually felt for them began to bubble up stronger underneath the surface. Was it any wonder Dumbledore didn't want to tell them about the horcruxes? She thought she finally understood his reluctance to include them. They would've brought the entire mission down with their whinging.

Unable to stand another moment in their presence, a very frustrated Hermione stood up from the table without speaking a word and exited the house through the back door. If anyone dared to follow her to see what was wrong or where she was headed, she didn't even notice. She needed a break from all of them. Unsure where to even go, she just spun in place hoping that her subconscious would get her where she needed to be. All she needed was some peace and quiet for ten fucking minutes.

Her feet landed in the Forest of Dean. Of course they did. She hadn't been there since the night she broke the Taboo. While it was never a good idea to Apparate with no set destination, she was glad she broke the rules. Just being back in the same place where she knew she had last been with Harry and Ron brought her a little bit of peace.

She landed near the edge of a small lake. Taking a deep breath, she felt calmer. Looking over the still water, her eyes caught a glint of metal in the bottom. Assuming at first that it was just some aluminum can a Muggle threw in there, she almost didn't look a second time. Another closer look was a surprise. It couldn't be. She was staring at the Sword of Gryffindor.

No, no, no, that didn't make any sense at all. She shook her head and closed her eyes, convinced that she wouldn't see it again when she reopened them. Except she did. How was it possible? How did the sword even get into the lake? She knew that Ron had it last. When he walked into the tent holding it he had been dripping wet from saving Harry. It all felt so long ago. How could it get back in the same lake?

Maybe she was losing her mind. Or she had already lost it. No one would blame her considering what she had gone through in the previous year. What were the chances she would just randomly appear right where the sword was? Even magic wasn't that strange.

If the sword was in the lake, it must have been meant for her to find. Deciding there was no other plausible explanation and it would be insane to just walk away from it after wanting it for so long, Hermione made the decision to jump in to get it. Why wouldn't she? A summoning charm was her last attempt. When that failed to work, she just jumped into the water. She had always been a strong swimmer and the lake didn't look too deep.

Almost immediately she knew she had made a mistake. The water wasn't as calm as she initially thought it would be. No closer to getting the sword, she felt the water dragging her down. Why hadn't she taken the time to take most of her clothes off? There was too much weight and with her head feeling so numb and strange, she couldn't move like she used to underwater.

Ever since the second task of the Triwizard Tournament that had her in the depths of the Black Lake for hours waiting for Viktor Krum to rescue her, she hadn't liked being in the water. No one warned her that she wouldn't be able to get the smell of the water out of her nose for weeks. Nor did they tell her she would spend a good part of that first night coughing up lake water. She never forgave the coordinators of the Triwizard Tournament for coming up with such a horrible idea and forcing her to be a part of it without her permission.

It was strange the thoughts that crossed her mind as she drowned. She thought she read that once, that those who had near-death experiences often had the most unexplained thoughts and reactions to what they were experiencing. While she knew she should fight and try to get back to the surface, she couldn't deny that just letting the water pull her down had its own sort of peace. There were no horcruxes or evil wizards in the bottom of that lake. If she just gave up, she wouldn't have to worry about what happened next. Maybe she would even get to see Harry and Ron again.

A pair of strong hands grabbed the back of her arms. Just as she had given herself up to the possibility of dying, she was saved. Her head broke through the surface of the lake. She gasped for air. The same hands that saved her hit her hard on her back. Water came gushing out of her mouth. She threw up everything she had inside her into the grass.

"You're all right, Princess."

Hearing Thorfinn's voice startled her back to reality. Why was he there? How had he known where to find her? She just assumed some random Muggle wandering by saw her fall into the lake. It seemed impossible that he would be there. What was happening? She felt so confused.

A squeezing of the air around her made her fear she was about to be sick again. When it stopped, she was back inside her parents' house. Thorfinn picked her up like she was nothing more than a doll to gently carry her up the stairs. Unlike the last time they were in the house and he had something more carnal on his mind, he was tender and careful.

Inside her bedroom he laid her down on top of her bed. With more tenderness than she knew he possessed, he pulled every single piece of wet clothing off her body. He wrapped her in a blanket with a warming charm. For several minutes he just rubbed his hands up and down her arms and legs through the thick blanket.

"Did you get the sword?"

Startled by her weak voice, Thorfinn paused his movements to stare up in her eyes. He was worried about her, afraid that she was far beyond his ability to help. Was he about to take her to St. Mungo's, damn the consequences? She thought it was possible. If he feared she was going to die, he absolutely would.

"What sword?"

"The Sword of Gryffindor. It was in the bottom of the lake."

His hand brushed against her cheek. The concern in his eyes only got worse.

"I didn't see a sword. You have a very high fever. Probably had it long before you jumped into the cold water."

"No, I need the sword to kill the snake. We have to go back, Thorfinn. We have to kill the snake."

He tilted her head back to pour a potion down her throat. Moments later her eyelids were far too heavy to hold open. Was he trying to kill her? She discovered she didn't really care as she gave into the darkness.

Every cell in her brain seemed to pound when Hermione woke up again. Unable to even open her eyes, she just lay in the bed wishing the pain would go away. What happened? Everything felt so fuzzy and confusing. She couldn't be certain what was real and what had been an odd hallucination. None of it made sense.

Waking up in her childhood bed in her parents' home was even more confusing. She was underneath the covers with at least two or three extra blankets on top. The thick flannel pajamas she had on would've been too small for her if she hadn't lost so much weight in recent weeks. It was a pair she should've donated two years earlier. What was happening? How did she get back into her own bed in her own old pajamas?

The door opened less than a minute after she dared to open her eyes. Seeing Thorfinn in the doorway neither calmed her nor frightened her. Not understanding his agenda, she didn't know if he was a threat or not. He was relieved she was awake. Had she been asleep a long time? Based on the aches in her muscles, she thought she must have. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead.

"Your fever has finally broken. I was worried I was going to have to take you to a Muggle Healer. Or St. Mungo's. I don't think a Muggle would've been able to figure out what was wrong with you."

It took all of her limited strength to sit up in the bed. Though her nurse was clearly against the movement, he didn't force her back down.

"I don't know why I got so sick."

"Overexposure to Dark magic."

He was so matter-of-fact that she trusted his conclusion. It would make sense. Between the Fiendfyre and handling the horcrux, she had been pretty close to it in recent days. She pushed away the reminder that she had been foolish enough to actually place the diadem on her own head.

"Those are Fiendfyre burns, aren't they?"

"How would I…?"

All denials to the truth were interrupted when he dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on her lap. The story of the three students dying horrifically in a Fiendfyre accident at Hogwarts took up the entire front page.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. You were there?"

She nodded.

"But I didn't cast the Fiendfyre. Crabbe tried to kill me. I almost didn't get out."

Thorfinn clenched his jaw, clearly very upset with how the events of that day could have gone. Crabbe should be grateful he died such a quick death. If he survived, she had no doubt that Thorfinn would be tracking him down to make him pay for what he tried to do to Hermione. Despite her own personal misgivings about the Death Eater, she had to smile at the thought. He could be a powerful tool in making certain she stayed alive.

"Are you sure there wasn't a sword in the lake when you saved me?"

No matter where the conversation went, she kept going back to what she saw in the water. To be that close to her prize and for it to slip through her fingers was difficult to get past. She saw the sword. Admitting it was just a figment of her fevered brain was far too upsetting.

"There was no sword. I even went back when you were sleeping just to make certain."

She sighed, even more disappointed than before. Finding the Sword of Gryffindor seemed so important, but she was starting to forget why. Maybe she just wanted one more connection to Harry and Ron. It had only been months since they were last together and already she was starting to forget the sound of their voices. A day would come quite soon, she feared, when they would be reduced to only vague shadows in her memories.

"How did you know where to find me?"

Throughout the whole ordeal with nearly drowning and then being overcome with a high fever, Hermione hadn't yet thought about the most disturbing part of it all. Somehow, despite she not even knowing where she was going to go when she left the safe house, Thorfinn had been able to find her just in time to keep her alive. That wasn't an accident. One look at his sheepish face and how he couldn't quite meet her eyes told her that something was seriously wrong.

"Thorfinn, how did you know where I was?"

He picked up the beaded bag off the side table next to the bed and dropped it in her lap.

"I put a tracking spell on your bag."

"No, you didn't. I had Mad-Eye Moody check it for spells and he said there weren't any."

"The night I kidnapped Lestrange. You were sleeping and I saw the bag about to fall out of your pocket onto the floor. I wanted to know where you were. Having to get messages to people I don't even trust to just hope I might see you wasn't good enough."

His confession made her feel sick to her stomach. If there was a tracking spell on her bag, he would've checked to see where she was staying. That meant the safe house was no longer safe. No one should stay there a moment longer. He could send Death Eaters there. Maybe he already had. How long had she been asleep? She wanted nothing more than to get out of the bed, stun him or worse, and rush off to the country to make certain the Order was still intact.

"What did you mean about killing the snake? Why do we have to kill the snake?"

The simple questions caught her off-guard. In the worst of her fevered state, she hadn't realized she said anything about the snake. It would make sense that she had though. Tempted at first to deny that she meant anything, she decided against it. He had a right to know. Maybe he would even know what to do.

"If we kill the snake, You-Know-Who can die."

Thorfinn was disturbed to learn how pivotal the frightening snake that his master kept around him was to his survival. Hermione wouldn't offer any details to explain why. If she tried, she would have to explain about horcruxes. That information in the wrong hands would do no one any good. As close as they were to getting Voldemort to a position where he could be destroyed, she didn't want to risk anything.

"I must've thought the sword would do it in my fever."

"He can really die if the snake dies?"

His voice was soft when he asked the question. She nodded and he looked as if he was thinking hard. Was he imagining what life would be like if his master was dead? Encouraged, she had an idea. Hermione reached for his hand to gently squeeze it in hers.

"Wouldn't that be wonderful? This nightmare would be over. We could go find my parents. My mum liked you."

The furrowing of his brow grew even more pronounced. Yes, he was definitely thinking over the possibilities of the future. As much as she wanted to continue the conversation and push him a little bit closer to her side, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion fell over her. The fever might have broken, but she wasn't at her full strength yet. She laid her head back down on her pillow. Moments later she was unconscious again.

Hours later Hermione woke up alone in a dark house. Her head felt much better than it had, but there was still a sense of numbness in the back that she couldn't ignore. Deciding that it was encouraging that she was able to get on her feet at all, she knew she had to get moving. Staying too long in her parents' house was dangerous.

From inside her wardrobe she removed an old suitcase she hadn't used in years. Everything that she wanted to keep from inside her beaded bag she transferred into the suitcase. When she was finished, she tossed the empty bag onto the top of her bed. Thorfinn would get the hint if he returned.

There was no sign of the wizard inside the house. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad. Any moment he could burst back inside with other Death Eaters to reassert his true loyalty to his dark lord. Or he could be informing Voldemort where the last remaining Order members were hiding.

It was that last reminder that finally made her rush out of the house. There was no reason to linger there. Until it was safe to live there again, she didn't want to see the house where she grew up. Far too many upsetting memories tinged the good ones from her childhood. She had hopes that one day she could help her parents fill it back up with good ones again.

Seeing that the safe house looked all right from outside helped to bring a small amount of relief to Hermione's conscience. Stepping inside to see that everyone was whole made her feel even better. Thorfinn might know where she had been hiding, but for the present, he was keeping the secret.

"Where have you been? Three days, Hermione. You were gone for three days."

Never before had she ever seen Kingsley both so furious and so frightened. When she walked into the kitchen, he jumped up to his feet and rushed across the room. If she learned he hadn't slept a moment while she was gone, she wouldn't have been surprised. He looked awful. That feeling only increased when he pulled her into his arms to hold her tightly against his chest.

"I'm all right. I had a very high fever. Maybe from overexposure to dark magic."

Kingsley didn't release his hold on her, but he did lean back enough to get a more thorough look of her face. She could only imagine how terrible she must have looked.

"I got really confused and tired, but I made it back to my parents' house."

She didn't want to give him all of the details. It didn't seem important.

"Thorfinn Rowle was there."

His jaw clenched at the mention of the Death Eater's name. While he hadn't admitted it out loud, she knew that Kingsley despised the wizard for what she had done with him. Given the opportunity, she didn't think he would hesitate to end Thorfinn's life.

"We need to be ready. I don't know how I know why exactly, but I think Thorfinn is going to try to kill the snake."