Hermione Granger and the Deathly Hallows

"HARRY!"

"It's Potter, it's POTTER!"

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

Hermione Granger blinked in surprise as she was suddenly surrounded by an overwhelming rush of affection and gratitude. That certainly wasn't the greeting she was expecting, especially after the day they had just been having. If breaking into Gringotts wasn't enough, they then had to endure a much too long ride on a dragon's back, an attempted assault at Hogsmeade, a meeting with Dumbledore's estranged brother who told them the horrifying truth about Dumbledore's past, and finally a battered, bruised, but surprisingly cheerful Neville Longbottom arriving out of a portrait to take them back to their home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the greetings they had been receiving by everyone else aside from Neville, Hermione had expected to be ducking Stunning spells and slurs about her Muggle ancestry, but instead, Hogwarts seemed to be as welcoming and friendly as ever. Perhaps some things hadn't changed after all.

But as Neville gleefully told them about how they were using the Room of Requirement, Hermione knew that Hogwarts had really changed after all. She had known it all along, of course, thanks to her conversations with Phineas Nigellus, but she had always banished it to the farthest corners of her mind. The world around them was changing so dreadfully that she rather fancied the idea of keeping her memory of Hogwarts completely untainted by the horrors of war. That dream, however, couldn't and wouldn't be a reality. Hogwarts had changed, rather horribly; it was almost a prison for these poor, brave students who no matter what still tirelessly clung to their beliefs, no matter how many times they were beaten by their own teachers. Hermione couldn't help smiling a bit at that thought. It was nice to know that she, Ron, and Harry weren't the only ones fighting.

"...yeah, well, food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," said Ron wisely in response to Neville's comment about the Room of Requirement being unable to produce food for them.

That certainly knocked all other thoughts from Hermione's head. She stared wide-eyed at Ron as Seamus and Lavender continued their story. She remembered vividly trying to teach Ron the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. He had correctly answered two of the five and gave up on the rest, saying what was the point of memorizing them when he could just as easily look it up in a book or even better, just ask her. Hermione had then retorted that maybe she wouldn't be around to ask; this had been in late March of sixth-year, when he was still dating Lavender but they had resumed their friendship and slight flirtation, which had been annoying Hermione quite a bit. That had led to a slight row which ended with Ron stalking out of the library. Gamp's law hadn't been mentioned again, so Hermione had figured that he now didn't know any of the five principles, or had even forgotten how many exceptions there were.

Ron caught her gaze and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'always that tone of surprise'. Hermione shook her head once at him. Not surprised, she thought at him, proud. That was N.E.W.T. level statement Ron had just made. She gave him a smile that was much bolder than he was used to. She really was very proud of him.

He wanted desperately to return it, but was jerked away from Hermione's eyes when Ernie Macmillian clapped him encouragingly on the back. "Tell us what you've been up to, though," said Ernie. "There've been so many rumors, we've been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch." He pointed the large wireless in the corner. "You didn't break into Gringotts?"

"They did!" said Neville proudly. "And the dragon's true too!"

There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Ron took a bow, earning a roll of the eyes from Hermione. Prat.

"What were you after?" asked Seamus eagerly, his severely bruised face alive with curiosity.

Hermione and Ron automatically looked to Harry, uncertain how much they should divulge to their friends, but Harry suddenly looked quite unable to answer any questions, let alone speak at all. In two seconds, all of the color had drained out of his face and sweat was starting to pour out of skin. They both instantly knew what was happening; this had occurred only an hour ago, on the beach of the lake after they had jumped off of the dragon: Voldemort was invading Harry's thoughts again. Ron quickly jumped to Harry's side to catch him before he could collapse while Hermione whipped out the beaded purse to find something to help revive their friend, stepping in between her best friends and the crowd to prevent anyone else from getting too close.

"What's wrong with him?" Seamus demanded, pointing worriedly to Harry

"Nothing," Hermione lied with a wide fake smile as she continued to rummage through the bag. "Just give him a minute."

True to her word, Harry twitched sharply as if yanking himself out of a bad dream, swaying and nearly falling out of Ron's grasp. His green eyes swam in and out of focus as he struggled to remain lucid and Neville asked, "Are you all right, Harry? Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't--?"

"No," said Harry tersely. He looked meaningfully at Ron and Hermione, trembling slightly. "We need to get going."

Hermione and Ron both inhaled together, their stomachs clenched in mutual horror as they read everything they needed to know in Harry's face: Voldemort was on the move. Once again, their time was running out fast.

"What are we going to do, then, Harry?" asked Seamus. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Harry repeated blankly. He still looked rather dazed from his latest forage into Voldemort's thoughts. It seemed to take a supreme amount of effort for him to even continue speaking. "Well, there's something we--Ron, Hermione, and I--need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

The room went deadly silent. "What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?" Neville asked, confused.

"We haven't come back to stay," said Harry, rubbing his scar, trying to soothe the pain. "There's something important we need to do--"

"What is it?"

"I--I can't tell you."

Neville's brows contracted. "Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?"

"Well, yeah--"

"Then we'll help you."

The other members of Dumbledore's Army were nodding, some enthusiastically, others solemnly. A couple of them even rose from their chairs to demonstrate their willingness for immediate action. Ron seized the opportunity to lean over to Hermione and whisper, "This isn't going to be good, is it?"

"No," Hermione returned anxiously with a quick glance at her watch. They really didn't have time to explain the intricate properties of a Horcrux. It didn't help matters that other people started arriving, people Harry really cared about, people that Harry would rather die than see injured or harmed in any way. That would only stiffen Harry's resolve to stay quiet and Neville didn't look as though he was going to back down any time soon. Hermione glanced over at Ginny Weasley who was standing next to her brothers and Lee, watching Harry intently as she tried to figure out why Harry and Neville were arguing. She had a feeling that Ginny was only seconds away from joining in the fray herself.

Harry was clearly losing his composure, so Ron decided to step in and turned to his best friend. "Why can't they help?"

"What?" asked Harry confusedly, eyes flicking over to Ginny every so often as if he couldn't believe that girls could be that beautiful.

"They can help." Ron dropped his voice so only the three of them could hear. "We don't know where it is. We've got to find it fast. We don't have to tell them it's a Horcrux."

Hermione blinked in consideration. She hadn't thought of that. That was the second extremely clever thing Ron had said since arriving at Hogwarts. Hermione rather wished he had been this intelligent while they had actually been students here; his marks might have improved a bit. Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, who quickly piped in, "I think Ron's right. We don't even know what we're looking for, we need them." Harry still looked unconvinced, so Hermione quickly added before she lost the nerve, "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry."

She hit a nerve. Harry jerked slightly and after a few more seconds of deliberation, nodded. "All right," he said quietly to the other two. Hermione sagged slightly in relief and glanced again at her watch, although what time it was hardly mattered. They just needed to find the last Horcrux before Voldemort arrived with Nagini. Her breath caught in her throat as it suddenly hit her for the first time: they were going to destroy all the Horcruxes tonight. They would defeat Voldemort tonight or die in the process. After years of reading numerous texts about famous wizards and witches, Hermione realized that she was actually in history, fighting to survive through a night that would be recorded in the pages of all textbooks for centuries to come. It was a rather overwhelming thought.

Harry was turning back to the rest of his friends. "Okay," Harry called to the room at large, and all noise ceased, all focus instantly on their chosen leader and hero. "There's something we need to find," Harry said. "Something--something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

There was a momentary silence that nearly shattered Hermione's soul, but Luna Lovegood mercifully spoke up before all hope could be lost. "Well, there's her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it."

As she had the first time Luna had started rambling about her lost causes, Hermione had the childish urge to throw something large and heavy at the batty girl. Perhaps hope was lost after all.

Michael Corner clearly shared her opinion. "Yeah, but the lost diadem," he said with a roll of his eyes, "is lost, Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" asked Harry eagerly, refusing to give up just yet.

"Centuries ago, they say," said Cho Chang. "Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but," she appealed to her fellow Ravenclaws, "nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?"

They all shook their heads. Hermione immediately began wracking her memory for any mention of the Ravenclaw diadem in Hogwarts: A History, but could not remember any. And if she couldn't remember it, then it must have not been mentioned in the text. Disappointment flooded her exhausted form: dead end.

"Sorry, but what is a diadem?" asked Ron, trying to keep up with them.

"It's a kind of crown," said Terry Boot. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes, Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons--"

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?" Harry interrupted hastily. They all knew that Luna could go on forever about her father's projects.

They all shook their heads again. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, infinitely lost as to where to go next, but before any of them could make a suggestion, Cho spoke up again. "If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue."

That suggestion didn't seem to be particularly helpful to their cause, in Hermione's opinion, but before she could say so, Harry's knees buckled and Ron had to grab him once again. Hermione worriedly said his name and Ginny leapt up from her chair, obviously panicked, but Harry was oblivious to their concern. Instead he quickly recovered so he could tell them, "He's on the move." He then glanced at Cho and then back at them. "Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know--the other one--safe."

Ron nodded soberly as he very lightly touched his jacket where the Horcrux was hidden in his inner pocket. Harry smiled tersely to wish them luck and started towards the door. Cho had got to her feet, but Ginny said rather fiercely, "No, Luna will take Harry, won't you, Luna?"

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to," said Luna happily, and Cho sat down again, looking disappointed. Luna trotted over to Harry as he asked Neville how to get out and the three of them hurried over to a small cupboard in the corner. Harry and Luna climbed into it and were gone.

Mercifully, Fred actually had the good sense to wait until Neville had once again closed the cupboard door before turning to his sister with a fiendish smirk. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny was already miles ahead of him.

"Shut up," she ordered sharply, fire spitting out of her eyes. Her slight chest heaved with repressed longing as she used every bit of her self-control to keep from throwing herself out of the room so she could follow Harry Potter until the day she died. "I don't care if that was horrible--I don't, I really don't--"

She cut herself off as her gaze returned to a curious and slightly disgruntled Cho. Ginny sighed apologetically. "It's not personal," she began kindly to the other girl, "it's just--"

She cut herself off again as she realized that the entire room was staring at her, knowing precisely was going on in her much too anxious mind. It was all too much. Ginny waved her hand vaguely in hopes that would be enough to satisfy the ex-girlfriend of the love of her life and returned her focus to her brothers, fully expecting to do battle if necessary. However, one of the fantastic things about the Weasley boys was that they knew when it was time to shut up. George scooted over on the bench he was perched on to make room for her. With a wan smile, Ginny accepted the spot and as he had many months ago, Fred wrapped a long arm around his little sister's shoulders so she would know that somehow, someway, he would do everything he could to ensure that everything worked out in the end.

Ginny leaned against Fred gratefully as they waited for Harry's return, Death Eaters, death, or all of the above. Ron watched the three of them for a long moment, keen blue eyes ensuring that they were all right for the time being, considering joining them as he hadn't seen them in ages. But before he could, Hermione had taken a hold of his arm and all of his attention returned to her, especially after he saw the cloudy expression of dismay on her face. "What? What is it?"

"Even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it?" Hermione asked in a low hiss, edgily glancing around to ensure that no one could overhear them. "And we still haven't gotten rid of the--other one," she added meaningfully after another covert glance around the room.

"Bloody hell, I forgot about that," Ron groaned. "We lost the sword, didn't we?" His fist flashed against the wall as he oh-so-colorfully listed all of the reasons he hated Griphook the goblin. "So what should we do?" he asked when he had finally finished nearly five minutes later. "What else gets rid of them?" He looked up and down Hermione's form for a familiar bulge in her pocket or sock. "It's in that book of yours, yeah?"

"Right," Hermione confirmed as she obligingly unearthed her beaded bag and after a few more minutes of scrambling, found the black book in question. She fumbled through the pages although she knew it was hopeless. "But Ron, we would still have to find one of those objects--items imbued with basilisk venom aren't just lying around Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Ron conceded dejectedly. He stepped back from the book. "Too bad we really don't--"

"Don't what?" Hermione asked distractedly as she continued to flip frantically through the thin pages in hopes that she had, for once, missed some vitally important piece of information. When he didn't answer, Hermione lifted her head to repeat the question, but it immediately died on her lips when she saw his face. It was his oh-dear-Merlin-I've-suddenly-become-absolutely-brilliant face. "Ron?"

He was already grabbing her hand. "Put that book away," he instructed as he continued to yank on her hand. Somehow, Hermione managed to return the heavy volume to her purse even though Ron was almost dragging her from the room. "Come on."

He yanked hard on Hermione's hand and got her over to the cupboard in two seconds flat. By the time anyone realized what had happened, the door was open and they were almost already gone. "Ron!" a chorus of Weasleys protested, knowing quite well it was much too late.

"We'll be fine--tell Harry we went to the bathroom!" Ron shouted rapidly before slamming the door behind them. He tugged on Hermione's hand yet again to lead her down the steep stairwell. "Come on."

"The bathroom?"

"Yeah--come on!"

"And you need me for that?"

Ron rolled his eyes so hard that his skull was in danger of rolling right off of his neck. "Come on!"

It wasn't until they had ducked into two classrooms to hide from running footsteps (they weren't taking any chances) and hurled down four flights of stairs before Hermione realized precisely where they were going. Her eyes popped open. "Ron!"

Catching the recognition in her tone, Ron finally confirmed her suspicion. "Yeah. The basilisk should still be down there--we can get the fangs."

"That's genius!" Hermione burst out in a gasp as they finally reached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and shoved the door open. She had to double over to catch her breath, but still found the energy to give him an amazed smile. He really was quite incredible.

Ron's ears flushed, but he ignored the sentiment and headed straight to the marked sink. He knelt down to find the small snake encrusted into the side of the tap and looked at it very intently, as if it could tell him how to open the entrance. He closed his eyes, caught his breath, and searched through his memory for something. Hermione was about to ask him what he was doing, but someone opened her mouth first:

"What are you doing here? You're a boy--" Moaning Myrtle's whine trailed off as Ron turned to face her as she emerged from her U-bend. "Oh," she said, somewhat startled. "It's you." A smirk crossed her pallid, transparent face. "You've grown up, haven't you?" Hermione straightened up instantly at the slightly suggestive tone to Myrtle's voice--it was the voice Myrtle had always used with Harry and even though she was a ghost, Hermione wasn't about to allow her to talk like that to Ron. Myrtle's wide eyes shot over to the door at the sharp movement and her expression fell. "Oh," she repeated, disappointment evident on every feature of her face. "You're here too."

"Yeah, we are," Ron answered as he turned his back on the ghost. "Now bugger off before I throw another book through your head."

Myrtle's chest puffed up in annoyance. "You wouldn't!"

Ron didn't even glance up. "Hermione, give me a book, will you? Biggest one you got, if you please."

Hermione obediently opened her beaded bag, but it wasn't necessary. Myrtle let out a wail and flung herself back into her stall. A loud flush indicated that she had launched herself into the plumbing. Hermione wrinkled her nose as water suddenly gushed out from underneath the walls of the stall. Myrtle was flooding the bathroom again; they didn't have a lot of time. "Ron--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ron interrupted. He had closed his eyes again and seemed oblivious to the cold water already soaking his slacks. "Give me a minute, will you?"

It took a great deal of self-control, but Hermione complied with his request, hopping from one foot to the other as the water rose to her mid-calf. Finally, Ron opened his eyes and spoke, but Hermione couldn't make out a word of it; to her, it seemed like a smattering of indistinguishable hisses and spitting. "What?" she asked confusedly.

Ron remained focused on the sink and when nothing happened, he swore again. "That's not it," he said to himself. He closed his eyes again. "I'm trying to remember what Harry said to the locket when we stabbed it."

"What? Why--oh!" Of course they would need to be able to speak Parseltongue in order to enter the Chamber of Secrets. Ron attempted two other series of hisses with no success before Hermione timidly suggested. "Maybe we should wait for Harry--"

"No, there's no time," Ron disagreed. "If we can get rid of that cup and get him another basilisk fang by the time he gets back from the Ravenclaw tower, we can help him find that diadem thing and then all go straight for the snake."

"But Ron, you're not a Parselmouth, it's not going to open for you--"

"Oh, it will," Ron said tightly. "Believe me, it will." His eyes hardened as he tried again, and even before the sink slid backwards, revealing a yawning expanse of blackness, Hermione knew it was going to work. He sounded and even looked just like Harry in that moment.

He stepped backwards to watch the passageway open and when he turned back to Hermione to grin in triumph, he was her Ron again. "See?" he proclaimed proudly. "I told you--hey!"

He broke off as Hermione abruptly hurled herself at him and threw her arms around him. He toppled backwards, almost sending them both tumbling into the hole behind them, but managed to catch them just in time. Hermione hurriedly disengaged herself from him, blushing brightly. She could have just killed them both. She swallowed hard as she peered down into the passageway, trying to discern what lay ahead of them. The flood Myrtle had caused was now gushing eagerly down into the abyss, creating a pitch-black waterfall. "Do we just jump?" she asked in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah," Ron replied. "But it's like a slide. You won't get hurt, I swear."

She nodded stiffly. She believed him. Of course she did. Ron would never let anything happen to her. That however didn't abate her fears in the slightest.

Ron nudged her slightly forward. "You first?"

Hermione nodded again. Ron knew her very well. He knew that she wanted him right behind her. There wasn't a lot of time, but she did find a few seconds to take his fingers and squeeze before jumping blindly into the torrent of dirty bath water. Hermione wished she could scream as they tumbled down into the darkness, but she knew better; she would only end up with a mouthful of filthy water. All she could do was close her eyes and wait.

The descent seemed endless, but finally the pipe leveled out and she landed on the damp floor with a loud thud. She hurried to her feet so she wouldn't be in the way when Ron emerged. He slid out a few seconds later. "You all right?" Ron asked as he squeezed excess water from his shirt and rubbed the elbow he had banged upon landing.

"Yes." Hermione lit up Bellatrix's wand to illuminate the dark passage ahead of them. "Let's go."

Ron also lit up his wand, but the passageway was still extremely dim; Hermione could only see a few feet ahead of her. Luckily, Ron's fingers quickly found hers so he could tighten his grip whenever she slipped on a rat's skull. She however was the one to squeeze him when they rounded a dark bend in the tunnel and she realized what lay ahead of them. "Ron--"

"It's all right--there should be the tunnel I dug out," Ron said as he led her to the makeshift hole that still existed in the massive mound of rubble that had piled up in the passageway. "There it is."

"You dug that out by yourself?" Hermione asked, impressed as she examined just how thick the pile really was. A thirteen-year-old Ron would have had immense difficulty digging it alone.

"Yeah, well, you do what you've got to do." Ron was starting to look a bit nervous. They were now getting to the area he hadn't explored the last time he was down here. For all they knew, the basilisk had somehow regenerated and was waiting for them. He swallowed hard. "I'll go first. Keep behind me."

"Okay," Hermione agreed. "Wait," she stopped him abruptly as she correctly assessed the size of the hole Ron had dug five years ago. It had been big enough to fit a twelve year old Harry and eleven year old Ginny Weasley, but not two eighteen year olds, especially one as tall as Ron. With a quick flash of her wand, she blasted into the rubble, enlarging the hole so they could both comfortably make their way through. Ron gave her a terse smile of thanks before navigating his way into the tunnel. She stayed as close as she could to him and soon, they were both on the other side.

Ron was already extending his hand to help her step over the remains of a twenty-foot long snake skin. Hermione internally flinched at the sight of it, but managed to keep her face blank and unafraid as she and Ron continued to twist and turn through the passageway. She couldn't imagine what this journey would have been like for Harry, small and frightened, but determined all the same to find the Chamber and save the girl of his dreams. Perhaps a part of Harry had even known way back then just how important Ginny was to him. Yes, of course Harry would have done anything to save anyone, but it had always been a little different when it came to Ginny. She had always been rather special to him, even before he had even begun to realize it.

Finally, they turned a corner to find a solid wall with carvings of two entwined serpents, eyes set with great glinting emeralds. Even though Hermione knew realistically that the chamber had to be empty and deserted, her breath caught in her throat all the same. Salazar Slytherin certainly knew how to inspire fear in people; even the door to his secret chamber was terrifying.

It took Ron several more tries to repeat the exact phrasing he had used to open the sink in Myrtle's bathroom, but he finally managed it. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, revealing the very long, dim chamber that had housed one of the most dangerous creatures in the magical world. Ron led the way inside, his hand shaking in hers, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.

"Likes snakes, doesn't he?" Ron commented flippantly as he spotted the bashed rows of pillars carved with more snakes.

"I suppose so," Hermione returned. She stepped forward to examine one of the many dents in the pillars. It must have been caused by the snake blindly running into them in his pursuit for Harry. It must have been one hell of a fight. She nodded her chin ahead of them. "Did Harry say ever say where he killed it?"

"Yeah. Somewhere in the Chamber," Ron replied. He pulled on her hand. "Come on."

When they reached the last pair of pillars, they spotted the chamber-high statue of an ancient, monkeyish wizard who Hermione immediately recognized from illustrations in Hogwarts: a History as Salazar Slytherin. He really was a very ugly man. She looked all about them; she knew from what Harry had told her that Ginny had been laying at Slytherin's feet. She rather expected the basilisk to be there too, for some reason, but the great expanse of floor was empty. "Where is it?"

"I don't know," Ron returned anxiously as he looked all around him. He ran over to the nearest pillar and ran his fingers over another dent, trying to retrace the basilisk's steps, so to speak. "It came at him from the statue--then came here--and then it must have--"

"There!" Hermione exclaimed as her sharp eye finally found the dark figure that had been hidden by the pillars. She raced towards it, but stopped short when she reached the large skull. Several fangs were in plain sight, but Hermione couldn't seem to grab any just yet. She could only just stand there and stare at the remains of the mythical creature that had very nearly killed her at the very young age of thirteen.

Ron brushed past her so he could walk down the length of the massive snake's spine, trying to gauge just how long the creature really was. "Blimey," Ron breathed. "Nasty thing, wasn't it?"

"It was," Hermione said tightly. She bit her lip hard as she vividly remembered racing out of the library one February day five years ago, hurriedly folding a sheet of paper she had ripped out of a book. If she, Hermione Granger, had ripped a page from a book, you knew that it had to be for a vitally important reason. She had thought about sticking the parchment into her pocket, but decided against it. She had wanted to feel the evidence against her palm, a tangible reminder that they now knew what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was. Now they knew how to stop it.

She had started towards the Quidditch pitch, prepared to burst into the Gryffindor changing room to tell Harry straightaway, but a sixth sense had kicked in and stopped her cold just before turning a corner. It suddenly struck her just how dangerous her situation was. Not only was she a Muggle-born, but she was a very prominent Muggle-born. She was at the top of her year, beating out some very bitter purebloods. She was Harry Potter's best friend. She was the only person in the entire school who knew what this creature was and how to stop it. Whoever was doing this would try to stop her. She knew they would.

But how could they possibly know, she had told herself practically, using her free hand to support herself against the wall. Her knees were starting to shake as she imagined she could hear the cold, long, lean form of the basilisk slinking through the pipes, murderous eyes searching for the next perfect victim. It could be anywhere. It could be in the very wall she was clutching.

Automatically, Hermione jerked her hand away from the stone as if it had scalded her. The sudden movement attracted the attention of a curly-haired Ravenclaw prefect that was passing her. The girl--Hermione thought her name was Penelope--stopped to give Hermione a curious look. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Hermione answered faintly. Penelope gave her a skeptical raise of the eyebrows but she started to continue on her way, thinking that it was just typical second-year anxiety. Hermione however changed her mind and amended her answer: "I know what the creature is."

Penelope halted. "What creature?"

"The monster in the Chamber of Secrets. I know what it is."

Penelope blinked at her in a state of shock. Hermione waited, frozen and breathless. She had no idea why she had just blurted out this vital bit of information; Harry probably would have preferred her to keep a secret. But as Penelope glanced anxiously over her shoulder, Hermione suddenly realized something: a pureblood wouldn't have looked over her shoulder like that. She was a Muggle-born too.

"How do you know?" Penelope finally asked.

"I just do," Hermione said earnestly. "It's a basilisk. It's the only thing that makes sense, I promise you."

Penelope looked over her shoulder again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Another prefect probably would have been much more skeptical, but luckily Penelope Clearwater was a very good judge of character and quite adept at picking out the liars from the truth-tellers. It was why she was such a good prefect. She put her hand on Hermione's arm to hurry her along. "We need to tell McGonagall straightaway. Are there ways to kill a basilisk?"

"Yes, of course, but wait--" Hermione shook herself free as the two girls came to a stop inches away from a corner. Her heartbeat had picked up for some reason. "Have you got a mirror or something?"

"Yes, of course, why?" Penelope asked as she instantly rummaged through her bag for her compact.

"It can kill you with its eyes," Hermione explained. "All it has to do is look at you and you're dead. We can't take any chances."

Penelope's efforts to find her mirror quickly hastened. Hermione waited impatiently, hoping from foot to foot. She felt horrible for scaring the girl like that, but they couldn't afford to make any mistakes. She just had a horrible feeling that whoever was behind this knew somehow that she knew his secret, that she would have to be silenced, that the beast needed to be sent to her next, needed to be sent to her right now. "Hurry," Hermione hissed.

"I got it!" Penelope said triumphantly. She whipped out a small mirror and held it out so both girls could peer around the corner.

And just as she expected, there they were: the eyes that could shatter glass, eviscerate solid brick, and stop hearts. The eyes that pierced right through you until there was nothing else. No one could survive after seeing these eyes. They were just so cold. Hermione never knew such cold existed. Everything was stopping. Nothing could move ever again. You couldn't move after being so cold. So very, very cold--

"Hermione?"

Hermione blinked. Ron had made his way back to her and placed his hand on her arm to shake her out of her stupor. He probably had had to call her name several times. She pressed her fingertips against her aching eyes. If she wasn't so exhausted and anxious, she probably would have burst out into tears, but there just wasn't time to deal with this. "I'm fine," she said quickly as she knelt down next to the basilisk skull. "Get out the Horcrux. I'll get the fangs." With a deep breath and a few fast flicks of her wand, the remaining fangs were deftly extracted from the skull and piled neatly on the floor. "Should we take all of them?"

"Might as well," Ron replied. He unearthed the Hufflepuff cup from the inner pocket of his jacket, but didn't release it straightaway. Instead, he kept his hand protectively over it and gave Hermione a very serious look, similar to the look he had given her last year before ordering her to go watch Snape while he tracked down Malfoy. "You should do it."

"Should what?" Hermione asked, confused. Ron lifted his eyebrows towards the fangs and then towards the cup in his hand. Her heart leaped nervously. "Stab it?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. It's your turn." Hermione picked up one of the fangs so they could get on with it, but Ron still didn't let go of the Horcrux and continued to stare at her with determined nervousness. "It may talk to you."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Talk to me?"

"It may...say things...to try to get you to stop," Ron continued. "Because it'll know that you're going to try to kill it."

Hermione still couldn't quite grasp what he was telling her. "A cup is going to talk to me?"

Ron exhaled impatiently. "Yes." He set down the cup onto the floor with a loud plunk, staring at the seemingly innocent cup, jaw clenching, shoulders and eyes hardening. "Just wait. See what happens when you try to stab it. Go on."

She stared at him with wide eyes, dying to ask why he thought an inanimate object would talk to her although she had a fairly good idea what his answer would be. She had always known that more had happened the night they had destroyed the locket; something had happened to Ron, something that was so upsetting that he didn't even dare tell her, the one person he confided everything to. But there was no time to ask the necessary questions. Harry would probably be returning from the Ravenclaw tower at any second and would panic if he couldn't find them. They had to do this now.

Grasping the fang tightly in her sweaty palm, Hermione raised the tooth high above her head and examined the golden cup hastily to find the optimal place to strike the Horcrux. Even though it had been languishing in the depths of the Lestrange's vault for months on end, the cup was still as bright and shiny ever, so much so that she could see hers and Ron's reflection in the side of the small object. Her face was slightly flushed and nervous while Ron's was pale, hard, and patient as he waited for the worse.

Useless...

Hermione's entire body flinched violently as she recognized the gravelly whisper of a Horcrux, the voice that had hissed spitefully to her whenever she had worn the locket that had tortured them for so long.

Useless...

She stared at the cup, but this time, she only saw Ron's reflection as he morphed to his prone form on the forest floor, gallons of blood escaping from the gaping wound on his arm. The wound she had caused from not Apparating properly.

Useless...

Harry's broken wand, beyond all hopes of repair. The wand she had ruined from her wayward spell.

Useless...

Her parents heartbroken faces as she told them about Voldemort. The family she had broken.

Useless...

Ron stuffing Lavender Brown's lips against his. The relationship she had caused to happen because of her inability to deal with the possibility of something wonderful due to the fact that the something wonderful terrified her to her very core.

Useless...

She wanted to look away from the small cup's shiny surface, but she couldn't. She was frozen, riveted, desperate to believe that it was just a Horcrux trying to save itself, but knowing it wasn't. All of it was true. She had done all of those things. The Horcrux wasn't lying. She really was useless. What was she even doing here? Harry and Ron would be better off trying to end this on their own. She should just walk away right now.

"Whoa," Ron protested as he grabbed Hermione's arm to prevent her from leaving. She blinked a bit dazedly in surprise; without realizing it, she had risen to her feet, dropped the basilisk fang, and had been ready to docilely walk right out of the chamber. For a moment, she irrationally expected him to have the gall to tell her he had told her this would happen. Instead, he pulled her back next to him and handed her the fang again. At first, she didn't want to hold it, but with Ron's hand over hers, her fingers eventually curled around the rough tooth. "Come on," he urged quietly. "You can do this."

Useless...useless...

"No, I can't," Hermione refused. Her entire body shook as she attempted to pass off the fang to him. The cup was now showing her falling victim to Antonin Dolohov's curse. "You do it."

Useless...useless...useless...

Now she was failing to keep up with classes in third-year, falling so behind that she had even failed a History of Magic exam.

"No, it's your turn," Ron said. He kept his hand over hers, trying to stop the tremors with his touch.

Useless...useless...

Ron was running out of the tent again, leaving her behind in the rain, all because she had been too stupid to realize why he was suffering. She had betrayed him by not helping him.

Hermione tried to pull her fingers away from him so she could cover hear ears. If she didn't get out of here, she would slowly and surely go insane. "Ron, please--" she begged under her breath as she continued to stare at the image of her cowering in the girls bathroom while a troll attempted to maim her best friends. He knew everything about her; he had to know that she was in trouble and would do whatever he could to save her from it.

Useless...

The voice was even louder now, reverberating across the great expanse of the chamber. It would not be silenced.

Useless...

"No, come on," Ron insisted stubbornly. "It has to be you."

Useless...

"Why?" Hermione scoffed with a hatred she couldn't place.

Useless...

"Because it's your turn--we're all in this together--"

Useless...

"Oh, come off it Ron," Hermione snapped. "I'm just a Mudblood and you know it."

Use...

Hermione couldn't hear the rest of that hateful word thanks to the sudden shock that bolted from Ron's hand into hers. It was so potent that Hermione automatically looked towards him, for the first time taking her eyes off of the Horcrux so she could gaze into Ron's horrified eyes. Fortunately, he didn't have to spit out all of the shocked and heated thoughts that had rushed up in his brain. Just seeing his eyes burn for her was enough. He saw her gaze shift and flicker, and the old Hermione was back, the strong, capable Hermione Granger who was capable of anything and everything, including destroying a very powerful and dangerous Dark object.

"Go," he urged frantically, not knowing how long she would last, but he needn't have worried. Hermione was already lifting the fang over her head again and stabbing it viciously down into the soft gold. There was a loud shriek and a wail and a flash and just like that, the cup shattered into several pieces and Voldemort's soul was destroyed.

Hermione immediately dropped the fang and dropped forward so she was on her hands and knees, taking deep grateful breaths of relief. She really thought for a few minutes that she wouldn't be able to do this.

Ron's hand dropped to her back to indicate his support. However, when he spoke, his voice shook with rage. "If you ever say that word again--"

"I know, I know," Hermione interrupted. She couldn't believe that she had actually called herself that. She twisted her head so she could look at him through a tangle of hair. He really was the most wonderful thing she had ever laid eyes on. "I know," she repeated quietly. Ron thoughtfully pushed her hair out of her eyes for her as he nodded once at her to tell her that she was forgiven. She knew she should get back to her feet so they could keep on fighting--not to mention that Harry was probably having a stroke by now--but she had to ask something rather important first: "So something like that happened to you too?"

Ron's hand shook ever so slightly as he removed the final curl from her face. "Yeah."

"Something that bad?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the remains of the Horcrux. "Something that horrible?"

"Yeah," Ron confirmed grimly.

It took a great deal of courage for Hermione to continue, but if she wasn't going to be a true Gryffindor tonight of all nights, she should have been a Ravenclaw after all. "It was about me, wasn't it?"

Ron didn't say a word. He just looked at her in that way that told her everything she wanted to know and much, much more. It was becoming difficult to breathe again, but this time in a much more pleasant way. Ron's eyes were just so blue. He had kept his hand in her hair although her face was clear of stray hairs, so Hermione was free to lean into his touch and wish with all of her heart that they were free to just sit here like this for hours on end.

Ron's hand curved around her neck, itching to slide forward to discover just how soft her cheek was. Please, Ron, do it, Hermione begged him. They had waited for so long. Most of the time, Hermione thought she could wait forever for Ron, but there were certain moments of weakness, when he was so close to her that his breath was warming her face, that Hermione didn't think she could wait another second. She became willing to throw away everything just to know really and truly what it would be like to have Ron's mouth cover hers and finally whisk all other thoughts from her mind. Only Ron could accomplish that feat. She knew he was the only one. She had always known. And now that the world was falling apart all around them, all she wanted was to know the infinite amounts of pleasure that she knew Ron was destined to bring her.

It took all of Hermione's willpower to keep from falling into him, inviting him to not only explore her cheek, but every inch of her as well, but she managed somehow to reluctantly climb to her feet so she could pile up the basilisk fangs in her arms. Ron, as always, followed her lead and shoved the mangled cup back under his jacket before helping her collect the remaining fangs. They remained silent, lost in hazy thoughts of each other.

When they finished the task, although there wasn't another second to spare, the couple found one more second to gaze at each other, lingering in what had just transpired between them. Ron broke it off first with a smile at her and started towards the door. It took Hermione another moment to remember how to walk and as she followed Ron out of the infamous Chamber of Secrets, her cheeks pink and warm as they had ever been, she couldn't help thinking that maybe it wasn't such a horrible place after all.