Please

* * *

The same day, 6:40 am Hermione walked out of the Room of Requirement and sighed deeply in relief before putting all usual spells on herself to hide from the nosy castle's occupants. That was one conversation she never expected to have with Severus, and it was so damn hard, she had to repress the tremors that started to ripple through her whole body. No matter now. Hermione slowly made her way outside, relaxing more and more with each step. She never saw Severus that vulnerable, never knew he was even capable of it. The open-mouthed shock and fear, the need that emanated from the man were palpable in the air, and it broke Hermione’s heart again and again even now. Yes, telling him was the right thing to do, regardless of the discomfort it caused her. Maybe now when Hermione showed him her greatest weakness, it would be easier for him to accept her friendship, and who knows, maybe with time he would even start to like her as a woman and not just as a friend. At least she hoped so. Hoped, knowing damn well how incredibly foolish it was to let herself do that. Alas… The deed was already done, and there was no way back. Ordinarily, Hermione would attend her classes during the first turn, then go back twenty-four hours and apparite to Boston for her apprenticeship. Today she decided to do things in the opposite order: deal with Dumbledore first, ditching her shift, and go to classes after turning back. School can wait, especially when essentially it was a complete waste of time. Besides, this evening when Hermione returned to Severus, she couldn't say that “everything will be alright” without knowing for sure that it actually will, not to him. It's one of many things they had in common… They hated empty words. The day promised to be bright and warm, and Hermione enjoyed every second of her stroll toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest to the entrance of one of the hidden tunnels, leading inside a secret corridor around Slytherin common room which was used, as Hermione gathered, to spy on the students, for there were ample means to do so charmed into the walls between the adjoined spaces. The walls were acting as a one-way mirror, allowing a person standing in the corridor to see and hear everything that was going on in the common room without the students' knowledge. Additionally, the corridor contained a narrow staircase leading down to the corridors around dormitories on the levels below, three secret doors into the common room which were warded but didn’t require any passwords, and a one-way door leading into the dungeon hall that wasn't protected at all. As a cursebreaker, Hermione would have no problem with dismantling and reinstating the wards if need be, especially the wards as old as on those doors. There weren’t any traces of Severus’ magic on them, and Hermione wondered if he even knew of all this in the first place. He wasn’t living in Salazar Slytherin’s quarters just down the corridor, that’s for sure. She knew that because while snooping around the secret tunnel once, she stumbled upon a heavily decorated entrance into what she presumed to be the founder’s rooms sealed shut. She didn’t have time to try and untangle the spells back then but her curiosity wouldn’t allow the matter to be forgotten, so it remained on her to-do list ever since. By the time Hermione reached the corridor, it was already a little past seven, and the common room was noisy with the usual hustle and bustle of students in the morning. She paid them no mind though, needing to find only one. Draco Malfoy was sitting on a wingback chair in the nook half-closed by the bookshelves, staring pensively out of the fake window. He was paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes — clearly far from happy. It was a good sign. Maybe there was a chance to save the boy yet. She was sure Severus would appreciate it, even if he couldn't stand the sight of him now. Plus Hermione herself pitied Malfoy. She'd have to discuss it later with Severus. Right now she was here with a specific purpose in mind — she needed to find out at least some details of The Plan, since Severus didn’t elaborate on that particular topic yesterday, and Hermione didn’t want to press. The man was traumatized by the whole ordeal as it was, making her protectiveness of him run overdrive. So Malfoy it was. For a start. Time slowly crawled forward, and the common room was getting emptier and emptier as the students hurried to the Great Hall but Draco still sat in his chair not moving. Hermione watched the boy sadly. No kid should have to go through this. Approximately at 8:15 am, the boy shook himself out of his stupor, rose, and darted out of the common room, then toward the entrance to the dungeons. Hermione silently followed him up onto the seventh floor, getting closer and closer to Malfoy to be able to slip into the Room of Requirement — she supposed he was heading there — with him. Several minutes later, the door to the room softly clicked shut behind Hermione and she looked around in astonishment. They were in the Room of Hidden Things. An enormous chamber filled to the brim with literally all sorts of junk. What could the boy possibly want here? Hermione dwelled on it as they practically ran through the maze of the piles until stopping in front of a vanishing cabinet. Draco pulled his wand out and slowly raised it to point at the cabinet with shaking hands, and then froze in indecision. Hermione walked around him to look him in the eyes. They were huge and glistening in the warm light of the room. Hermione shoved aside her sudden urge to calm and comfort the clearly terrified teen, remembering why she came here. In the end, what she planned to do for Severus tonight would help Malfoy too, so forcing herself to focus, Hermione began with the task at hand. She couldn't perform legilimency fully when her target wasn't really looking in her eyes, or as in this case, didn't know he was, but at least she was able to catch his surface thoughts this way. Flashes of conversations with Bellatrix, Rodolfus, Greyback, and several others, of writhing under Riddle's wand and kneeling in front of him, of working on the cabinet, arguing with Severus streamed before Hermione's eyes. It didn't make much sense at first, but as Malfoy broke the connection covering his face with his trembling hands, and Hermione sat down nearby to think, she was able to connect some dots. It wasn't the whole plan, obviously, only a part of the Death Eaters' side of it, but one thing was pretty clear — she should expect a few guests in the castle near midnight, stumbling out of this very cabinet. It won't do. She couldn't allow Death Eaters to harm anyone. Hermione looked over at Draco who stood miserably on the same spot, his wand lay forgotten on the ground. The boy was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Suddenly loud sobs cut through the stiff silence, and he fell on his knees. Hermione's heart clenched painfully at the sight. Unable to just watch, she cast a very mild cheering charm on the area where they were sitting, but it didn't help much. Bloody fucking Dumbledore. Bloody fucking Riddle! No kid deserved that, not even the pompous ferret. He was having a full-blown breakdown, laying on the floor in a fetal position, shaking, and weeping, unable to draw breath. Not willing to stand this any longer and reckoning that it wouldn't matter in the long run if she helped the distraught blond now — discreetly, of course — Hermione rose to her feet, took her wand out, and expertly and non-verbally cast a sleeping spell on Malfoy that was usually used on patients during surgery, so there was no way Draco would wake up until she cast the counterspell. The boy instantly went limp, and the room returned into deafening silence. Checking the time — it was already 8:50 am, and classes were about to start — Hermione considered what to do next. She could move him back into his common room, somehow, and wake him there, hoping that he'd think of the incident as a weird dream, but there was too big a chance that it won't work this way, and today of all days nobody needed an extra vigilant sixth-year paying extra attention to their Defense professor, and Hermione had little doubt that Malfoy would find a way to blame this on Severus. Nor the man himself needed more stress. So moving Malfoy was out of the question. The only other option was to simply wake him here and let him think that he just fell asleep on his own. It still was somewhat risky — who's to say that Malfoy's not overly paranoid by this point and it wouldn't suddenly strike his fancy to cast a Homenum Revelio, for example, plus time was of the essence right now — but it still was a preferable option. If it came down to that, Hermione wasn't above a small Obliviate, no matter how dangerous it was for the blood's wits. She waited another few minutes before waking the boy up, simply looking at his peaceful form. He seemed carefree, just as any teenager should. Just as she should've been if it wasn't for her time traveling. On the other hand, looking back, Hermione did not feel regret about any of the decisions she made. Life was never easy for her, not before, nor after changing her name and becoming Hermione. So maybe there never was much of a chance for her to be carefree. Anyway, it was not the time to get lost in memories, so she retreated further away from Malfoy, and cast the required spell. Draco jerked awake and sat up, looking around him in confusion. Noticing no one, he rubbed his face tiredly, found his wand, flicked it, and the next moment glowing numbers appeared in the air, showing that it was two past nine. He was already late for Herbology. "Fuck!" exclaimed Malfoy, scumbling to his feet and darting toward the exit. One minute later, Hermione heard the door open and slam shut. "Run, Forest, run," she mumbled, making her way toward the cabinet and giggling quietly. All mirth aside, the situation was quite serious. Hermione needed to make sure that Death Eaters that were going to come tonight, weren't able to do it. Or better yet, weren't able to walk out of the room, nor leave through the cabinet, effectively getting themselves trapped. And preferably not casting any suspicions on Draco, or worse — Severus. Blast. There was no accomplishing that. The only way to keep the school safe was to ensure that the Death Eaters wouldn't have to come here in the first place, namely, she needed to deal with Dumbledore as quickly as possible and find a way to let Riddle know about it before midnight. But how? The most reliable and easy way would be to do so through Severus. They would have to discuss this too. He might want to stop spying, of course, and in that case, they will find another way. The others most likely won't be thrilled by this, but Hermione was more than prepared to fight tooth and nail for Severus' choice. Content for now, she made her way out of the Room of Hidden Things only to return to the Room of Requirement to think things through and decide on the next step, after she quickly visited the Hogsmid post office and owled Anthony to inform him that she's not feeling well today and won't show up. The interior appeared to be exactly the same as it was this morning when she was here with Severus, and Hermione smiled when she walked in. Sitting on the couch, she made herself a cup of tea and searched her mind for all the details of the plan that she already possessed. She knew now that everything would happen at midnight in the Astronomy tower, and that the Death Eaters were supposed to get there from the Room of Requirement, so they would arrive at school at 11:50 pm at the very latest. Then Draco is expected to kill the Headmaster with Avada Kedavra no less, and then they will flee, wrecking as much chaos, panic, and destruction on their way as possible. As far as Riddle was concerned. As for Severus, Hermione assumed that the plan was the same, except for one tiny detail: the killing curse would be cast by him and not his godson. The main problem with all this was that it was essentially irrelevant because Dumbledore needed to die before the whole thing had a chance to come into motion. So what Hermione really needed to know is where the Headmaster was planning to spend his evening, so she would be able to arrange a suitable death for him. As she lay on the couch, making a mental list of all people who might know something and therefore whom she would have to find a way to subtly legilimize, a small round pendant on her bracelet warmed up and changed color to pale green. It meant two things: first, her future self had important information that she wanted to give her past self, and second — said information would be waiting for her in the hiding place near the greenhouses. Hermione jumped with joy. All she needed to do was wait until the pendant would become cold again, which would indicate that it was safe to retrieve the message, and then just go and take it. How she loved time travel. It made so many things easier. The class would end at 10:30 am, so after a quick Tempus, Hermione grabbed some book — English classics — off the shelf and began reading to pass the time. About half an hour later, she slowly made her way through the halls and then outside, heading toward the furthest greenhouse to wait the remaining several minutes. She was still disillusioned, silenced, and under Notice-Me-Not, but one couldn't be too careful. Precisely at 10:32 am, the pendant cooled down, and Hermione strode between the greenhouses to her hiding place. It was a small box that she placed under Fidelius charm a few years back when she was practicing it during her Defense apprenticeship. After finding the box in its usual place — on the ground by the glass wall of greenhouse number one, Hermione took an envelope out of it, put the box back, changed the color of the pendant to the original silver to let her future self know that the information is received, and only then took off at a great speed toward the Forbidden forest to read what she had to say to herself. The whole system was incredibly useful but more importantly, simple and reasonably safe. She didn't use it frequently due to the fact that she usually was in different countries on her turns, and overall tried to interact with herself as little as possible, but it felt good to have it nonetheless. Contents of the note were as Hermione hoped — Dumbledore's timetable for today's evening. Apparently, he was to suddenly summon Harry to his office a little before the general curfew, and they were to leave the grounds together precisely at 9:29 pm, heading to some cave in the cliff at the seaside near Canvey Island. She also provided herself with several photos of the most convenient place to apparite there and of the fissure in the surface of the rock which the two wizards will use to enter the tunnel, leading into the said cave. There was nothing else she needed to do in Hogwarts now and no sense in getting on her own way, so, happy with herself, Hermione went deeper into the Forbidden forest and strode for an hour, getting way past the edge of the school wards, just to be on the safe side. With that meddling old… headmaster, one could never be too careful. Fresh summer air lifted her mood even more, and Hermione allowed herself to empty her mind, not thinking about anything (especially not about certain old long-bearded goats or her plans for the evening) but just living in the moment, lest anger and grief consumed her. Today wasn't the day for mistakes, too much was at stake, Severus' soul and sanity being the most important of it all. Eventually, Hermione reached a small clearing deep inside the forest. It was so peaceful and beautiful with the morning sun shining through the leaves of tall old trees and a bird singing cheerfully somewhere nearby that she stopped just to enjoy the moment. Hermione always loved nature, almost as much as books, it was the only two good things that she could remember from her childhood. The only two good things that her parents ever gave her, the rest of it better stay buried somewhere deep inside her mind and never see daylight. This clearing, though, gave Hermione a great idea for a potential pastime in the evening of her second turn today, and with her spirits raised even higher, she finally apparited away, reappearing on Hooge — a small island off the coast of Germany where St. Amandus was located. Unlike magical population of the UK, German witches and wizards preferred not to waste too much energy on concealing their presence from muggles, so they simply inhabited places where there were none of them, or at the very least, a very small number, which Hermione always loved. It didn't take long to restock her potions supplies, and then finally Hermione was able to apparite to her small flat in France to get some much-needed rest before all the action. After finishing her apprenticeship with Belmont in June 1996 (a little over two years ago for her, and only one for the rest of the world), Hermione didn't have the heart to sell her lovely flat on the outskirts of Paris, she loved the place too much. It wasn't just small, it was practically tiny. There was only one room that served as a bedroom, living room, office, and library at once, a small kitchen, and an equally small bathroom. All four walls in the living room were lined up with shelves and shelves, filled with books of all sizes, on all subjects that ever caught Hermione's interest. One wall also had a small window that was framed with shelves on all sides (naturally). In one corner stood an old wardrobe, in another — a decent-looking wooden desk that was drowned in piles of parchment and notebooks, and in the center — a soft plush blue couch that served as a bed for many nights. In the kitchen were only an old stove, a small fridge, two cabinets, and a tiny table with one stool under it. And a window, of course. Bathroom did not have a bath, just a toilet, a sink, and a shower. Overall, the flat was very modest and very cramped, but Hermione loved it with all her heart. It was situated at the attic of an old three-story house, with thin walls and drafty floors, therefore it was inappropriately cheap, and that was all Hermione cared for (aside from the beautiful house and beautiful city that was surrounding it) when she was buying the flat seven years ago. Several flicks of her wand, and the place was warm, quiet, and cozy. She had an idea once about magically extending it, but thought better of it. There was a certain charm in this flat that she was afraid of losing if she altered it too much. Entering the living room now, Hermione felt a pang of nostalgia. She spent so many happy hours in this flat during the two years that she lived here full time and one year that she returned to Hogwarts for her fifth year and jumped twenty-four hours back every day to apparite here. She should show this place to Severus one day. That thought made her smile. Hermione picked up a battered clock that stood on the floor near the couch. It was 1:14 pm here, which meant that back in Scotland it was 12:14 pm. She set an alarm for 6 pm (5 pm by Scotland time), took a small dose of Dreamless sleep that she just purchased in Germany, fell on the couch without bothering to undress, and passed out within ten seconds. When the alarm finally went off, Hermione groaned but opened her eyes. The potion wore off some time ago, so she began dreaming about what she was about to do, and the bloody thing started beeping at the most interesting moment. So not fair. Hermione sat up and looked outside. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds, and small rain was quietly tapping on the window. The heavens were crying… How fitting. If her parents saw her now, they would have been horrified by their daughter's plans. The whole community would've been. And then… Hermione huffed in annoyance at herself. Past should stay where it belongs — in the past. Weird that her thoughts went there today of all days. Or maybe not… She got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit, spelled her hair into a tight bun on her nape, and then changed into her favorite and most comfortable outfit that she used to wear during her little excursions all over the world with Belmont: a brown cargo pants with lots of pockets, heavy gray hiking boots, a gray turtleneck, and a black beanie. It was all waterproof, fireproof, acid-proof, spell-proof, and many other proofs, which was always a good thing. Saved her more than once. After that, Hermione fastened a wand holster to her forearm and disillusioned it. On top of her clothes, she put on her gear — two thick straps criss-crossed on her front and back and tied to a wide sturdy belt — with a lot of carabines, and an oversized brown hoodie. Done with dressing, Hermione lifted her eyes, and her gaze fell on the shelves. Who knows how much time she'd have to kill, waiting for Dumbledore… It would be prudent to have something useful to kill it with. She skimmed the rows, unsure of what to take until her eyes reached the section on the Dark Arts. Just as Severus, Belmont was adamant that in order to be able to protect anyone from the Dark Arts, one needed to know them. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, that sort of thing. Therefore Hermione's book collection on the topic was rather extensive. There was one book that particularly caught her attention. 'Secrets of the Darkest Art' — a gift that Hermione received from Belmont the day she completed her Mastery — a very rare and invaluable text, the only one that held instructions on Horcrux making. She didn’t read it fully yet, so there was no way of knowing if the book held any information about some sort of human accidental Horcruxes, but it was worth a try. It was never a good idea to drag rare invaluable texts into unknown caves in the middle of nowhere, though. For that reason, Hermione duplicated the book, making a quite expendable copy that no one would mourn if lost, and packed it into her backpack. Satisfied, she put her rucksack with all her other professional knick-knacks on and went outside to grab a bite in her favorite small diner on the next street, ignoring the rain entirely. She ate quickly for there wasn't any time to dawdle, all the while memorizing the landscape in the photos. She needed to get to the seaside, find the cave, and inspect it thoroughly before Dumbledore showed up with Harry because plan of action won't exactly make itself, and when the two wizards do appear, it would be too late to start the preparations. Hermione was reasonably sure however that things would go smoothly, otherwise she would have warned herself in the note. So at least the prognosis was good. On that positive note, she confidently walked out of the diner and turned to the right, circling the small one-story building and heading to the backyard. It was secluded and usually empty, except for three dumpsters, therefore safe enough for an occasional apparition. Hermione took the hoodie off and put it away into her rucksack, then temporarily silenced the area, and after placing all her customary spells on herself just in case, disappeared. Appariting to a new location was always risky, and Hermione nearly pulled it off this time. She popped into existence on the edge of the cliff that she saw in the photos. Too close to the edge, in fact. So close that caught by surprise, she lost her balance and toppled down into the sea with a loud yelp. Fucking fantastic! So lucky she didn't crash head-first onto one of the large boulders, surrounding the cliff. With the force of her fall, Hermione plunged several feet into the freezing water. Not panicking, she took a quick look around to assess the situation and dove out without problems. Thank God for paranoia, and protection, and water-repelling and warming spells. And for Belmont's insistence on physical training in all areas, including swimming and diving, among many others. Looking around, Hermione noticed the fissure from her photos a little bit further, but before heading there, decided to at first quickly explore another option — a small round-ish hole in the stonewall about ten feet below the water surface, which may as well turned out to be another entrance. To do that she needed light. Spotting a small-ish rock right under the cliff, she swam there, took her rucksack off, and fished around inside it for a second, looking for a small glass jar on a short chain. She fastened it to one of her carabines and conjured a Bluebell flame inside. Over the years Hermione managed to modify the charm so the caster was able to control the color and the intensity of the light, which made it perfect for occasions like this. Then she put the rucksack back on, cast a Bubble-head charm on herself, and dove back, swimming toward the hole. It was about three meters in diameter, and Hermione had no problems following the tunnel for a few minutes until it got wider, turning into a relatively small underground chamber. There was nothing of interest there except for another entrance, which was heavily warded. She slowly and cautiously approached it, as to not alert whatever it was that was potentially kept inside. Even under all those spells, she wasn’t completely hidden. Her every motion in the water was like a beacon for anyone sensitive enough. When there were only a few feet left between her and the entrance, an ugly human-like creature suddenly leaped forward from the tunnel, banging on the barrier and startling Hermione. Seeing as the creature wasn't able to attack her, Hermione relaxed her reflexive battle stance, lowered her wand, and took a closer look at the entrance. Countless eyes, glimmering in the light from her Bluebell flame stared back from the black abyss. Inferi. Dozens and dozens of inferi. After conjuring a protective sphere around herself, designed specifically against inferi, Hermione waved her wand in front of the barrier, checking if the wards were safe for humans. Getting positive results, she put her wand away, and then slowly got closer to the barrier to see if it was solid. Reaching forward with her left hand, she tentatively touched it, feeling her fingers go right through it, magic washing over her hand, then arm, head, shoulders, and so on, until she was on the other side of it. The moment Hermione crossed the line, inferi — even though they could barely see her disillusioned form (make a note: apparently, Notice-Me-Not did not work on those bastards) — attacked her bubble all at once, only to get shocked or knocked out cold the moment they touched the sphere. God, she loved magic. Deciding to find out where the hell she was before moving in any direction, Hermione cast Lumos Solem, pointing her wand upward and shooting bright warm sunlight from the tip. Inferi scattered away, startled, allowing her to see her surroundings. Not that it helped much with that. In normal circumstances, the light of a Lumos Solem should’ve been enough to illuminate a vast distance, now, however, the light seemed stuck, unable to penetrate the unnaturally thick darkness. Interesting. There still was some difference between how the light spread in the water around Hermione and in the area several feet above her, which meant that there was a chance that she was in the lake rather than in another underwater chamber. Hermione swam up to the surface of the water, still holding an active Lumos Solem to avoid contact with inferi for as much as possible (but, again, with the element of surprise lost, it didn’t help much). She dove out, canceled the Bubble-head charm, and looked around in shock. Even in the somewhat limited light, the cave looked not just large, it looked insanely enormous. The entire thing, bar a small island in the center that emanated a dim greenish light of its own, was filled with black water. As far as Hermione could tell, the walls around were smooth, making her wonder if she missed anything in the tunnel. Either there was a hidden passage somewhere on the walls here or the other tunnel that started at the fissure in the rock outside simply was connected with the one she used. The note from her future self clearly stated that Harry and Dumbledore will enter through the fissure, and seeing that it was far more likely that Riddle, and Dumbledore after him, would find a way to enter the cave without the need to swim through a horde of inferi, Hermione decided to start with the walls here rather than go back. But first, Hermione canceled Lumos Solem, so she’d be able to use her wand, and shouted, “Immobulus Omnis”, effectively freezing every creature in a three-hundred feet radius around her. This variation of the spell that was taught to her by Belmont at the beginning of her apprenticeship, was very rarely used due to the enormous amount of power and concentration needed first to produce it and then to hold it active. But for short periods of time, it was incredibly useful. Done with that, Hermione swam toward the center of the lake to take a closer look at the island. It was several feet wide, round, and almost flat, with a stone basin on a pedestal in its center. There was an unmistakable stench of dark magic in the air around it, and Hermione climbed out of the water very carefully so as to not trigger any potentially dangerous surprises that might be hidden here. First of all, she warded the edges of the small ground, creating a second line of protection just in case, which would prevent inferi from getting on the island, and with a deep breath of relief, canceled the freezing charm. The water around instantly started boiling from the ferocity with which inferi attacked the invisible borders, biting and ripping each other like mad in their attempt to get to her. After watching them for a few moments, all the while marveling at the level of her own craziness which would explain why she was so calm in this situation, Hermione strode to the center to take a better look at the basin. It was filled with an unknown emerald liquid — the source of the phosphorescent greenish light. She intensified the flames in her jar to be able to see better and cast a few spells on the liquid, trying to identify it. It was a potion, some kind of poison to be exact, not commonly known though. She conjured a small ladle and scooped up some of it. No scent. She wasn't stupid enough to try and discover what it tasted like, not when there was a perfectly good Guinea pig coming along shortly. After all, Hermione wasn't here to retrieve the Horcrux, she was here to see to their little 'Dumbledore' problem. If he and Harry didn't manage to take the locket, she'd return here later with a Potions Master in tow. There was a great chance that Severus was the one who brewed that in the first place, therefore there was no sense in wasting time, attempting to solve a riddle, the answer to which she could simply ask. Hermione tried to pour the potion out on the ground, but the thing must’ve been enchanted to only be drunk because there was some protective barrier in place, preventing even one drop from falling out. So she emptied the ladle back into the basin and vanished it. There was nothing else on the island, and Hermione tried to apparite to the outer edge of the lake to investigate the walls, but to no avail. Bloody anti-apparitional wards… Well, it was worth a shot. Sighing, she turned her attention to the inferi. They stopped raging at some point and now simply stared at her from all sides with their murky gazes. For as long as the light from Hermione’s jar reached, there was nothing but dozens and dozens of heads with white dead eyes sticking out of the still water, completely motionless. Waiting. A cold shiver ran down Hermione’s spine at the eerie sight. And a happy thought that there still was some sense of self-preservation left somewhere inside her that followed the shiver made Hermione chuckle. Shaking herself out of the useless time-consuming stupor, Hermione gripped her wand tighter, concentrated, and shot an Infernus Ignis into one of the heads, setting the inferius ablaze with a small bout of Fiendfyre. It was time to resume the practice. As a cursebreaker, Hermione was required to conquer this highly dangerous spell — in some of the places she and Belmont found themselves in in the past the ability to wield the cursed fire had been crucial. With a long soul-splitting wail, the inferius started desperately jerking around and diving in the water, vainly trying to extinguish the flames. The other inferi frantically scattered away from the source of fire — the only thing that they were programmed to fear — but it was too late. There were too many of them and they were too close to one another to be able to successfully get out of the danger, and in less than ten seconds, about two dozen of them ignited like candles, one by one. By this point, the surface of the lake was once again still, smooth, and clear, as all creatures vanished from sight, and the only indication that there even was something in the water was the angry red glowing somewhere deep that grew in proportions by the second. Satisfied, Hermione wiped the sweat from her forehead and whispered, “Paenitentia,” stopping the flames, and the glowing instantly faded. The cave returned to its unnatural, somehow dense darkness, emptiness, and stillness. If Hermione did not have an eidetic memory, she might’ve thought that all that never happened. With her way cleared, she removed the protective wards around the island, preparing to leave the island when her attention was caught by a strange ripple of residual magic on one particular spot near the water. A few wand waves later, Hermione watched in amazement how on a previously empty place appeared an old rusty chain that was slowly tugging itself out of the lake. A boat. For several eternal seconds, Hermione simply stared at it in astonishment, trying and failing to get rid of the mental image of the almighty Lord Voldemort in his long silky airy robes standing on a boat that sailed on its own across an underground lake full of dead people. Maybe holding a lantern in one hand that would illuminate a small area in the complete darkness around him. Greek mythology aside though, Hermione expected literally anything else from the feared He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but not something so normal and mundane. A tamed and potty-trained Kraken on a chain at the very least. In fact, she even subconsciously started preparing herself for this historical meeting. Alas… A boat was all she got. Rather convenient. But before even touching it, Grander strode to the boat to check it. Turned out, it was enchanted to withstand the strain of only a certain amount of magic — didn’t matter how many people were on if their summarized powers were within the allotted limits, otherwise, the boat would topple itself. Hermione supposed it was Riddle’s way of ensuring that whoever came, wasn’t stronger than him. Last year she wouldn’t be sure that Dumbledore would be able to use that boat, being allegedly one of the most powerful wizards of our time and possibly stronger than Riddle, now though… Now his magical core was weakened by the prolonged exposure to the curse in his hand, which made Hermione hope that both wizards would be able to transport together. But even if not, they could still simply do it in turns. Or if Dumbledore was crazy enough by now, he could use the boat alone, while levitating Harry. Or they could use brooms, not bothering with the means of transportation that were so kindly provided by any Dark Lords. After a few moments of indecision, Hermione flicked her wand at the boat, reversing the spell that tugged it out of the water, took her broom out of her rucksack, enlarged it, and with a great sigh rose into the air. She hated flying. Hated it. A few minutes later, Hermione reached her destination. She shrank back the broom, put it in her pocket, and first of all cast a Tempus — 7:21 pm, plenty of time left — and then started to examine the wall, slowly moving along it counterclockwise around the lake. Luckily, finding the hidden passage didn’t take too long, only about twenty minutes. Feeling a set of elaborate enchantments on a relatively small portion of the wall, Hermione stopped to study more closely the spot where was the supposed “main” entrance. And the entrance there was. With only one little problem… It was protected by one of the trickiest dark wards that required a blood sacrifice to open, and only for a short period of time. Then it needed another sacrifice. Well, Hermione wasn’t above losing a few drops of blood in certain circumstances, like today, for example. So she took her wand away and once again opened the rucksack. A minute later she stood before the wall with a small knife in one hand and blood dripping on the floor from the other and watched the dark smudge on the wall where the door was supposed to appear. Only it didn’t. This place wasn’t just a well-protected hiding spot. With its one-way doors, an army of inferi, self-drowning Krakens-To-Be, and poison, it was a gigantic and perfectly thought-out grave for whoever was stupid or suicidal enough to come inside. With her way out cut short, Hermione put the knife away, healed the cut on her arm with one quick wandless spell, and erased all traces of her blood. She sat down on the stone floor and looked around, trying to decide her next step. The proper course of action would be to go back outside and check the tunnel in the fissure, just to gather all the information and avoid any surprises at the most inopportune moment. She cast Lumos Solem again and searched the cave with her eyes, attempting to calculate the location of the lower tunnel, and then stared at that spot on the water for a long moment, weighing in her mind the risk of at least two more trips through the inferi (she couldn’t possibly use the main passage from the outside, leaving her blood on the wall for Dumbledore to see) against the risk of foregoing the rest of the investigation and placing the events of the evening in fate’s hands, even if partially. On one hand, the situation was as clear and simple as it could possibly be, and the upper tunnel did not matter all that much. She will not allow Dumbledore to leave this cave in any corporeal form even if things indeed came down to knocking Harry out and outright Avadaing the headmaster. There was little she could oppose to that aside from the peace of her mind, which meant a lot but still… Was it worth angering the inferi again? What if she wouldn't be able to calm them down in time? They already were quite pissed. Sighing, Hermione decided to stay put after all. Shoving her doubts aside, she concentrated on the immediate future. It was time to think of a plan or a few. There were several possibilities to kill Dumbledore, one on each step of the way, to be exact. First — she could organize an “accident” on the boat and dump the man into the lake, letting inferi finish the job. But jinxing the boat before the pair got here was dangerous because there was no way of knowing if they would go together or separate, and if so, who'd do it first. It could be Harry just as easily. Besides, there was still a possibility that the old man would manage to fight off the attack if he wasn’t weakened by the poison first. Second — she could try to identify the potion and then try to make it more quick and deadly. There was little doubt that whichever poison it was that Riddle placed in the basin, it was a slow-going one. If Dumbledore planned on ingesting it (despite everything, Hermione couldn’t in good conscience imagine that the headmaster would make Harry do it), he must’ve made sure that he would be able to return to the castle before he died. Otherwise there was no point in organizing this whole insane scheme with Severus and risking the lives of all other kids in the school. But identification could easily take up to four hours, which she did not have. Taking a small dose herself or adding something on a whim was out of the question: the outcome was too unpredictable. Plus to alter the poison she'd have to untangle all the enchantments on the basin that prevented any meddling with the potion first. It would take even more time. That option was out then. Third — Hermione had a rather useful army of inferi at her disposal. If she could provoke them to attack Dumbledore at the right moment, it opened a lot of possibilities from simply tripping the headmaster straight into their welcoming embrace to using it as a distraction while she tried to strike him down herself. So far it was the most promising idea. The downside of it was that Harry would be placed into just as much danger as Dumbledore. If only she could find a way to separate them… Although… Hermione’s rational practical side very unhelpfully supplied that Harry definitely was a Horcrux and therefore needed to die too and that there was very little chance that she would find a way to prevent that. On the other hand, Horcruxes were almost sentient things, they protected themselves, which made them so hard to destroy, so any simple killing just won’t do. It would kill Harry, leaving Riddle’s soul intact and in charge of the boy’s body. So Harry must be protected at all costs. It made placing him — a young reckless schoolboy, and not a very bright and diligent one at that — in the middle of a fight with countless inferi quite stupid… What was Dumbledore thinking, inviting Harry with him? During the next several minutes Hermione sat there, trying and failing to solve this unsolvable quandary. Hundreds of lives were at stake. Thousands. And the prospect of losing Hogwarts to Riddle, effectively exterminating the only place in the whole country that had potential to remain safe and accommodate large masses of people if need be. With the ministry infiltrated, it was crucial that the school stayed in the Order’s hands. So what if Harry did die here? In the worst-case scenario, another Riddle would wake up, but being secluded in this cave in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing preventing Hermione from destroying him for good with, say, a well-aimed shot of good old Fienfyre. She’ll do absolutely everything in her power to keep Harry safe, but if worse came to worst, the risk was worth it. All that contemplating instantly made Hermione feel worse than shit. Yes, there were too many years and secrets between them for Hermione to still consider Harry her best friend, but she loved him dearly nonetheless. He was like a family she never really had. And here she was, about to traumatize the poor boy once again, as if he didn’t see enough death already. She should find a way to knock him out before all the action really begins. What was she even doing here? She came all this way, swam in the lake full of inferi without a second’s hesitation, preparing to commit a murder that had the potential to become a double, and then a triple murder. And let's be honest, all that wasn’t for everybody (even if technically many people benefited from it), it was for one specific person. What happened to the quiet hard-working bookworm? How did she get to this point? It should be illegal to dump that much shit on one person’s head. Maybe that’s what really attracted Hermione to Severus — he’s always seemed like a man who went through several hells of his own. As they say, it takes one to know one. Closing her eyes, Hermione breathed deeply through the pain that constricted her chest. “It would be alright. It would all be worth it,” she whispered time and again. “I know it will.” Hermione emptied her mind with practiced ease and locked all those treacherous thoughts away. She’d have plenty of time for being miserable later. What she was about to do would help many people, and yes, the love of her life was included in that list. And no one could convince her that there was anything wrong with wanting to help him. Hermione shook herself out of this mood and concentrated. Another vital thing to decide was where to hide. She couldn't afford to be discovered. Waiting in the water wouldn't do for obvious reasons, so she had only one option left — to hover somewhere above the lake, hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to sense her presence even under all her spells. Sighing, Hermione prepared herself for the inevitable. She would never be able to forget this day. Deciding not to think about it for now, she canceled the Lumos Solem, set an alarm at 9:30 pm, and took the copy of Secrets Of The Darkest Art out of her rucksack. No point in wallowing in misery. Straightening her mental shields, she opened the book and started to read. The alarm went off, and despite Occlumency, Hermione's heart dropped somewhere low. Not allowing herself a moment of hesitation, she put the book away, made sure that her rucksack was safely closed, fastened it securely onto herself, jumped on the broom, and rose into the air. With one last glance around, Hermione checked that all her spells were still strong, extinguished the Bluebell flames, and prepared herself for a potentially long wait in the eerie darkness. It took an eternity. The longer she sat, the more she started to worry that something might've gone wrong because surely it couldn't take them so much time to apparite on the cliff, climb down, swim a little distance, and then drop a bit of blood on the stone. How hard could it be? Surely not that much. She should've gone and checked that blasted upper tunnel, she just knew it. Something must have happened to one of them or both, and Hermione could do shit about it. Taking deep breaths, Hermione tried to calm herself down. Panic meant recklessness, and recklessness meant mistakes. She could not afford mistakes, not today. There was only one chance of getting this done. Finally, with the help of even more Occlumency, Hermione reined herself under control, turning almost all her emotions off. Calmness and confidence. That's what was left. Her meticulous rational side took over, allowing Hermione to function. After about five more minutes, or so it felt, the chalk of the wall below vanished, making a passageway, and two points of light illuminated the darkness. Hermione could barely make out the faces of two figures in the distance, so small and dim the lights were. Pausing for just a few moments (during which Dumbledore discreetly did something with the open passage, she couldn't help but notice), the figures started slowly moving along the edge of the water just like she did a few hours ago, and Hermione followed. For a long time they were silent, but then Harry couldn’t take it any longer, apparently, and started a conversation. Strangely enough, the all-consuming darkness of this place — to which she has gotten quite used to by this point — that messed up with the light, seemed to have no power over the sound, carrying it around freely. Or maybe it was just voices… It was hard to tell. The darkness seemed to have started messing up with Hermione’s mind. Anyway, she was able to hear the words as clearly as if they were spoken straight into her ear, though both wizards remained abound sixty feet away, and it definitely wasn’t an echo. In fact, there seemed to be no echo whatsoever. All sounds, except voices, were dulled and muted. Everything was muted. Hermione suddenly had a strong urge to be in some open endless place full of light and air, somewhere not here. How right she was, calling this cave a grave. It reeked of death. And even so large, it still seemed cramped to the point of making her feel a little claustrophobic. It would be a long time before Hermione would be able to close her eyes without feeling this smooth clammy darkness caressing her skin. The longer the conversation continued, the worse she felt. Not just about the general creepiness of this place, and not even about the prospect of ending somebody’s life. It was Harry. She listened to the boy’s words, more and more realizing how incredibly young he was. Despite all those hardships that he overcame over the years, Harry Potter still remained this naive kid with a pure open heart. He should not be here. He should be at Hogwarts, running around the castle, screaming his arse off about anything that came into his hormone-deluded mind, as any normal teen would. But then again… so should she. “Oho,” sounded from below, and Hermione stopped her depressing ruminations. Honestly… It was like she was eighty-two, not twenty-eight. As Dumbledore happily watched the self-pulling chain, Hermione once again remembered the image of Riddle, posing as Charon, and her mood lifted somewhat. She often wondered if anyone would compare the power of the git with his ego, which one would be bigger? “Stop it, you fool!” Hermione scolded herself and concentrated on the here and now. She approached the wizards below a little bit more, keeping an especially close eye on one Albus Dumbledore. She had to admit, despite being weak and half-mad, the man still managed to pull a convincing enough act, pretending to be clueless, full of energy, and covering his rude slip-ups that he was no longer able to control as the curse slowly but surely ate at his mind, stripping him of the customary grandfatherly persona. Harry, simple as he was, never noticed a thing, of course, but Hermione was a completely different case, and the nearly constant stream of poorly covered lies that left the old man’s mouth was getting on her nerves. ‘Voldemort’s mistake’ her arse… She started to think that Dumbledore took Harry here just so he could have a last good laugh at the small stupid boy’s expense, and it obviously did not sit well with her. The man’s chances of getting a quick painless end were getting thinner and thinner as Hermione’s anger grew. And — finally — they were on the island. And Dumbledore was drinking the damn potion, moaning, groaning, SCREAMING, begging… Begging for it to stop, and all-around not looking so damn smug anymore, but Hermione didn’t enjoy his misery in the slightest, though she expected to. She wanted to. “No, no, no, no, I can’t, I can’t, don’t make me, I don’t want to…” Instead, she felt her anger evaporate and quickly be replaced by anguish. “It’s my fault, all my fault… Please, make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I’ll never, never again…” And poor Harry… Watching him fill yet another goblet of deadly poison and with shaking hands force it into the sobbing old man’s mouth was the hardest thing Hermione ever did. A young deathly pale face with green eyes full of utter helplessness, pain, and despair was forever imprinted on the back of her eyelids and would undoubtedly hunt her nightmares — along with the image of Severus sliding away from that fucking tower — for many and many years to come. “Please, please, please, no… not that, not that, I’ll do anything…” Another bloodcurdling scream tore the air apart. “I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!” She bet he would. “KILL ME!” roared Dumbledore. Harry flinched. Hermione’s anger returned with triple force, making her eyes prickle with tears from the sheer fury she felt. Detached, she watched how Harry frantically moved below her, shouting “Rennervate!” several times to wake up the man who by the look of things lost consciousness from pain, and then how the whole ordeal with water played out. When the boy flung himself over the edge of the island and reached for the water in the lake, somewhere on the back of her mind Hermione heard her inner self yelling “No!..” but her outer self stayed put and silent. As if in slow motion, she saw the exact moment things went to even deeper hell. Harry’s hand that held the goblet rose from the lake, four drops of clear liquid splashed onto the rock, and the next second a white bony hand emerged from the water, grabbing Harry’s wrist and abruptly pulling him away from Dumbledore toward the lake that came alive again. The army was awake. The moment it registered in Hermione’s brain, her heart skipped a beat. What happened next was so fast, she would never be able to repeat it. She leaped forward on her broom with full speed at the same time as Dumbledore seemed to regain his bearings at least some, and rose from the floor on the shaky legs, fumbling at the pedestal for his wand. Harry managed to rip his arm away from the death grip of an inferius and, noticing the amount of the dead that determinedly were making their way toward him, started flying every spell that came to mind at them, all the while slowly going backward. Dumbledore managed to nonverbally conjure a ring of fire above their heads — mostly; it was unsteady and waved around like mad — which made Hermione immediately stop her descent, lest she got burnt to crisps with a few inferi that were unlucky enough to climb onto the island and get right into the flames. Their howls caught Harry’s attention, distracting him momentarily, and he stumbled over an outstretched arm. Seizing her moment, Hermione sent a tripping jinx his way, making him fall hard on the stone floor out of immediate reach of inferi and fire, and then knocked him out cold with the same spell she used on Draco this morning. Was it really just this morning? Harry dealt with successfully, Hermione — high on the adrenalin rush — turned her gaze toward Dumbledore who was looking at the limp form of a boy beneath him with uncertainty. Without really thinking, she surrendered to the impulse and once again whispered Infernus Ignis, only this time aiming for the living man rather than the dead. To the sound of its target's deafening screams, the Fiendfyre leaped from the burning, and falling, and burning body of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore into the air, replacing the ring of fire which died the moment the old man ignited like a torch, dropping his wand. Hermione landed inside the circle, throwing her broom to the side, and concentrated hard. This time she will burn every fucking bag of bones that did not wish to stay dead and nothing would stop her. In a moment, the cave was filled with screams of terror and so much light and heat, water started boiling. One minute, two, three… one by one the inferi erupted in flames, creating a giant chain of fire that stretched in strange patterns across the cave above and under the surface of the water alike. When the last yelp died down, Hermione started to withdraw the strings of fire so she could safely extinguish it. While the cave was slowly submerging in darkness again, she looked down on the two men lying in front of her: one sleeping peacefully, another — sleeping eternally, and for the first time in Hermione’s life, her mind, that frightening machine that never stopped, drew completely blank. She stared at the charred corpse of once the greatest wizard of our time and did not feel a thing. The Fiendfyre died down to a small ball of flames on a place where it struck Dumbledore, and with barely audible Paenitentia vanished, but Hermione did not pay much mind to it. With a wave of her hand she cast Tempus and for a long moment simply looked at the glowing numbers. 10:50 pm. The spell faltered for a second and disappeared, returning the cave to its previous black eerie state.