The Light

Chapter 81

Chapter 81

October 1980

She needed to see Dumbledore.

She woke up, panting, in a pool of sweat and that was the first thought to cross her mind. Hermione pulled back the covers, getting changed in the dark as quickly as she could. She had no idea what time it was, or whether Dumbledore would even be awake, but she couldn't wait until morning. She needed to see him now.

Hermione crept out of her room, pausing when she remembered what Avery had told her yesterday. She conjured some parchment and a pen and wrote down the details of the raid, slipping it under his door, knowing he'd find it when he woke up and do what was best. She might be back before everyone else stirred, but if the wild, painful beating of her heart was anything to go by, she wouldn't return until she had all the answers and Merlin knew how long that would take.

That was why she needed to see Dumbledore. He always had the answers.

Hermione left Headquarters, apparating on the street. She wasn't really aware of anything during the journey from the gates, through the castle, to Dumbledore's office. It was like she was in a haze, or still asleep, but the sharp pang of reality reminded her of how her dream had felt in comparison, and she knew she was awake. It should have comforted her, but the coldness of her sweat at the back of her neck compelled her to feel otherwise.

She raced along the final corridor, throwing out as many Muggle sweets as she could think of- she didn't have to go through many for the gargoyle swung to the side to allow her access fairly quickly. Hermione used the last ounce of her energy to run up the stairs. Her knock was insistent and demanding.

The door swung open.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted. He didn't look surprised to see her, not in the slightest, and Hermione only entertained the relief that flooded through her for a second. "Do come in."

She hesitated in the doorway before she accepted his entry. She walked past him into the office when he stepped back, and stood awkwardly, letting her eyes linger on the objects and ornaments she'd seen countless times before. He sat down behind his desk, and gestured for her to sit in front of him. She obliged silently, folding her hands in her lap and resisting the urge to twirl her fingers.

She said, "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Dumbledore's blue eyes were creased in a small frown as he leaned forward and asked gently, "Are you quite alright, Miss Granger?"

Hermione thought about the question and she knew she should probably lie, should probably play it safe so that she could collect her wits before spilling anything. But she couldn't lie. Her hands were shaking, her soul ached, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, even though she knew that was impossible. He was waiting for her there.

"I feel," Hermione swallowed, searching for the right word when eventually, she just said lamely, "different."

Dumbledore's eyes never left her. "Oh? In what way?"

She finally acknowledged the swirling inside of her, that feeling lingering on the fringes of everything she did and said and thought. It had been like a battle to ignore it and pretend she was normal and unaffected, but now that she addressed it, she felt its presence like a storm cloud, always there, always looming.

"Darker," she said. Hermione felt the words as if they'd crawled up her throat, and wrenched her teeth open to escape. "I almost killed someone."

At Dumbledore's wide eyes, she said quickly, "Oh, it was a Death Eater. But I don't... kill. That's not me."