The Light

Chapter 67- The Diadem

August 1979

The castle had not changed since they had last stepped foot in it.

Hogwarts still had that homely feel and as Hermione led Sirius and Remus through the empty halls, she couldn't help but acknowledge the frantic beat of her heart. They had decided to retrieve the diadem now, before school started so as to avoid running into any students. Merlin knew what they would find. Even Hermione had no idea what to expect; she remembered her encounter with the diadem the first time round, all flames and dark magic that threatened to singe her life. But the Horcruxes had been unusually tame since they hadn't been given time to fester. Perhaps this one would surprise her too.

Also, it was easier to cross another horcrux off the list before they began to search for the rest of them. They still had no idea where the cup might be located.

Sirius was whistling cheerfully, dancing around and peering into empty classrooms as though he had not a worry in the world. She could see him reliving his youth, playing up to the fantasy that he was still a young boy, absconded from all guilt and responsibility. She let him have it. Hermione shared an amused glance with Remus, who raised his eyebrows, smiling. He, too, walked with an easy-going gait despite the significance of their task today. She realised this would be the first time they had come face-to-face with a horcrux.

"Quite ironic really," Sirius said thoughtfully as they turned another corner. "Never would have put old Voldy down as sentimental."

Remus' eyebrow quirked and he said, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's got the whole world laid out at his feet and yet he picked a priceless antique which he concealed at his school," Sirius explained, clearly unimpressed with this line of thinking. "I thought He was supposed to be intelligent."

Hermione shot him an incredulous look. "He is intelligent. Irritatingly so."

"No, yeah, I know," Sirius agreed. "I just- If I was going for the whole nihilistic world-domination approach, I'd have picked something... a bit more generic, you know?"

"Like a grain of sand," Remus said, nodding along.

Sirius pointed at him and exclaimed, "Exactly! Or a rock and then chucked it into the middle of the ocean! See, this man should not have gotten so far! It is a crime that we have not defeated Him yet!"

Hermione allowed herself to laugh, despite the fact that their lack of a victory was not amusing. The more the war stretched on, the more she doubted she was doing anything to change its outcome.

They finally stepped onto the seventh floor corridor. The brick was golden due to the sunlight sifting in through the high windows, and Hermione felt it lazily caress her skin. It was so strange for her sometimes to compare this war to the last one. This one was so much more comfortable; Death was not chasing them down, and they didn't have to operate in secret. Sure, there was still fear, but the Wizarding World was largely intact. The same could not be said for the war she had left in the future. Fear was rooted so deeply in that time that it wouldn't surprise her if the time beyond that was poisoned, shrouding the decade of light before.

They stopped outside the part of the wall where they knew the Room of Requirement to be, and the air seemed to still. Sirius stopped humming abruptly.

"How do we know what to ask for?" Remus asked.

She didn't reply, merely started pacing, enunciating her thoughts loudly and clearly in her mind:

'I need to hide something. I need to hide something that will never be found.'