human again / hp.

Chapter 125

I moved carefully, one hand brushing along the velvet curtain of my four-poster bed, the other holding my wand close to my chest. The common room beyond the dormitory would be empty by now, but the dorm wasn't. Lavender was snoring softly. Parvati had tossed off half her blanket. Hermione was still as stone, sleeping with her hand curled beneath her pillow like she was clutching a book even in her dreams.

I had nearly made it to the end of my bed when I dropped my wand. It slipped through my fingers and fell to the floor with a quiet wooden clatter.

I froze.

Hermione stirred.

My heart launched itself into my throat. I stopped breathing, completely still in the dark. I could see her outline shift slightly beneath her covers. Her head turned faintly on the pillow.

Please don't wake up. Please.

She settled again.

The silence came back slowly, like it had been holding its breath too. I crouched and snatched up the wand, clutching it in my fist, and slid soundlessly into my sleeve.

I didn't let myself think. Not about what I was doing. Not about her. Not about how she would look at me if she ever found out. If she saw me for what I had become.

The portrait hole creaked open a sliver, just enough to let me pass through. The corridor beyond was cold and still, and I didn't stop until I was four floors down, away from the warmth of the fire and the places where I was supposed to belong.

Draco was waiting where I told him to be, near the tapestry of the one-legged troll. He stood with his arms crossed and his foot tapping slightly, his face only lit by the faint wandlight glowing at his side.

"What took you so long?" he asked under his breath.

I shrugged.

His mouth twitched into annoyance. But he said nothing else. We didn't have time for small talk. The silence between us was almost comforting now.

I reached behind the tapestry and found the seam in the stone. My fingers slid along the crack until I pressed the tiny raised knot in the wall. The hidden door clicked, and we slipped inside.

The passage was long and narrow, carved in a forgotten time. The air was thick and damp, and our footsteps echoed too loudly against the stone. Neither of us said a word. We just kept walking.

There was a point halfway through when I wanted to stop. Not because I was tired, but because the weight of what we were about to do had caught up to me again.

You're doing this because you have to. You're doing this because there's no other choice.

But the thoughts didn't comfort me. They never did.

The passage ended in the cellar of Honeydukes, just as I remembered. We emerged carefully, slipping past crates of sugared violets and cauldrons of bubbling taffy.

We slipped out into the quiet street. Hogsmeade was a shadow of itself at this hour. All the windows were dark, and the clouds overhead made it feel more like midnight than early morning. We stayed close to the walls as we moved toward the Three Broomsticks.

Madam Rosmerta's pub was quiet, the lights all off. I pulled my wand from my sleeve and whispered, "Alohomora."

The lock clicked. The door creaked open. My heart was drumming so fast I could hardly hear anything else.

We entered together, stepping carefully over the worn floorboards. The scent of old mead and woodsmoke clung to the air. We crept up the stairs, each step groaning under our weight. I led the way, counting the turns. I had been here before during daylight, when everything felt warm and full of laughter. Now it was cold and foreign and sharp.