The Light

Chapter 72

AN:

Firstly, I need to reiterate: please stick with this fic. As much as you are going to hate what happens, things have to get dark but I do have a plan for it and I do plan on finishing it. Please trust me. I love you all.

Warning: I am putting this here because I genuinely felt unnerved writing this. I may be over-exaggerating but this is a trigger warning, just so I can say I did warn you. I'm sorry for the delay. I've been procrastinating writing this. You'll see why.

This is easily the darkest chapter I've ever written.

Chapter 72

February 1980

When she felt her wand burning, it seemed hotter than she remembered. Although the magic was safe (she should know- she'd applied it herself), the wood felt to scorch her skin, even through her clothes. Hermione immediately gathered all the things she would need, which happened to be not a lot; her wand, her extendable bag, one of the Horcrux-proof boxes. She swallowed, eyes catching on the dandelion in her top drawer-

He held her hand tighter and murmured, "Why don't you use your wish?"

"Because I'm saving it," Hermione replied. "For something important, like the end of the world or homework help-"

She slammed the drawer shut and left the room. The corridor of Headquarters was eerily quiet, and every footstep seemed to scream. It was as though the house was warning her, or trying to wake someone up. It was like the house was trying to give her away.

She paused, briefly entertaining the idea of waking Caradoc up. No. He'd most likely flip at the idea of her being in contact with Death Eaters- she couldn't risk that, it had taken her long enough to gain his trust in the first place and she couldn't let it shatter now. Her mind drifted to Remus, eyes finding the door to his bedroom, and her heart felt to thump a little harder. Her footsteps faltered. She should tell him where she was going-

No. It wasn't his concern anymore. She wasn't his concern anymore.

Hermione shook her head, eyes shooting away from the door she knew he was behind, and carried on walking. Within seconds, she was standing outside Headquarters, inhaling the sharpness of the winter wind. Hermione was almost shocked; she had expected more resistance.

Before she could once more linger on the prospect of waking someone, she apparated away.

The kitchenette was a grey and dull welcoming sight, and Hermione was relieved to find Regulus already there, waiting for her. He jumped up when he saw her, eyes lighting up.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," he grinned. Realisation flashed across his face and he added, "Oh, before I forget. Hermione, this is Kreacher. Kreacher, this is the girl I was telling you about."

She barely had time to look down, when the House Elf launched itself at her feet, grovelling and pressing its forehead against her shoes. Alarmed, Hermione watched him, lips forming words that never left her mouth.

"Mistress!" Kreacher wailed. "I have heard much about you! Master Regulus tells Kreacher lots about you. So kind, Mistress, so loving and nice to Master Regulus-!"

Regulus coughed. He shot her a bashful look and said hastily, "That's enough, Kreacher. Remember what I told you? You don't have to grovel when we're outside the Manor. You don't have to grovel for me, nor for Hermione."