SERENDIPITY | harmione

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

• now you're making me nervous •

★ ★ ★

"So, it's settled then-" Hermione muttered, gulping as she turned towards Harry; her brown eyes were glazed with fear. "—Dumbledore sent us here so we could find out Voldemort's origin; someway he can be stopped."

Harry curtly nodded, linking his arm with hers, and pulling her out of the common room. "You know what this means, then?"

The brunette nodded, letting out a soft groan. "We have to keep him in our sight..." She suddenly trailed off, her face lighting up.

"What is it?" Harry asked; his tone of voice was laced with urgency and excitement as he glanced at her.

"How could I be so stupid? I can't believe I didn't realize this earlier!" Hermione squealed, eagerly jumping up and down in enthusiasm. Her curls bounced as she grinned at Harry, clinging onto his arm.

"Hermione?" Harry murmured, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Oh, Harry! Remember in second year, how you were transported back fifty years in Tom Riddles diary?" The curly-headed girl started, her eyes growing wide.

"How did you know a-" Harry began, chuckling slightly as Hermione interrupted him.

"Ginny-" The brunette snickered, playfully rolling her eyes. "—she wouldn't shut up about how she was possessed by that diary. Anyway, I'm saying that Hagrid's here and is going to be framed!"

"You are brilliant, Mione! We need to speak to him; maybe Dumbledore knows something as well..." Harry muttered; his voice was softer than a whisper as he looked around, checking to see if they were being watched.

"As much as we want to talk to Hagrid right now, we should speak to Dumbledore first." Harry nodded, grabbing Hermione's hand and jogging out the Slytherin common room.

They raced through the corridors, coming to a stop as they arrived at the Headmaster's office.

"Harry?" Hermione mumbled, tugging softly on his sleeve to grab his attention.

"Ah, if it isn't Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter-" Professor Dumbledore knowingly smiled, appearing behind the couple; to say that they were shocked was an understatement. "—what can I do for you both?"

"Well..." Harry murmured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at the headmaster.

"Ah, yes, I know all about your adventures, and lucky for you, I know just how to help." The professor lead them both inside his office, ignoring the strange glances and whispers he received.

Harry and Hermione instantly took a seat, their focus never leaving Dumbledore. The brunette, however, couldn't seem to get the headmaster's words out of her head; how was it possible he knew?

"It's come to my attention that you both have realized why you're here-" He continued, his gaze wandering from the duo as he scanned his office; almost like he was searching for something. "—I knew you would."

Harry smiled slightly at the professor's words, but Hermione, on the other hand, stared, finding this rather difficult to believe.

"From what I've heard, you both are searching for Voldemort's origin, and I might be of some assistance." Professor Dumbledore deadpanned, remaining unbothered from their shocked expressions; he, instead, acted as if this happened on a daily basis; as if it's as completely normal.

"Harry-" He started, turning to face the raven-haired boy who looked like he was still processing everything. "—do you remember the prophecy you found last year in the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry nodded, cocking his head to the side in befuddlement. "But, professor, it was destroyed."

"Yes, I know..." He light-heartedly chuckled, only furthering the duo's confusion. "I'm not expecting you to remember what the prophecy said, although I'm sure you do."

Harry stiffly nodded once more, gulping as he shared a look of doubt with Hermione.

"Anyway, we're drifting from the main focus: Voldemort. He's out there, and the only way to defeat him is by destroying all seven Horcruxes."

"The what?" Hermione scoffed, her face shrinking up as she looked at the professor; there was rarely anything that she didn't know.

"Horcruxes, Ms. Granger-" Dumbledore said, his gaze once again drifting throughout the room. "—Or in other words, pieces of one's soul."

Harry remained silent, his eyes falling to the floor, as he rested a hand against his head; this was too much for him to process. He couldn't imagine having to destroy seven different pieces of Voldemort when he barely could defeat one.

"How does one split one's soul?" The brunette whispered, ignoring the odd look Harry sent in her direction.

"I think you know the answer..." The professor murmured, peering at her through his oval-shaped glasses.

"But sir, why did we need to come here in order to learn that?" Harry exclaimed, his voice growing louder; it was clear that he was becoming quickly agitated.

"I wasn't finished, Harry-" Dumbledore strictly scolded, walking over towards his phoenix, Fawkes. Slowly, the professor began patting the fiery bird, fueling Harry's anger; he wanted answers.

"As I was saying, in the future, I have already discovered what six of the Horcruxes were, and thus, that isn't the reason I called you both here."

"What about the seventh sir?" Hermione questioned, although she wished she hadn't as she watched Dumbledore's eyes fall onto the boy sitting beside her.

"N-No..." She choked out, tensing as she locked eyes with Harry. The brunette shook her head, her gaze falling to her lap to hide the tears dripping down her cheek.

Harry's expression, however, remained unmoving, lacking emotion; almost like he wasn't understanding the consequences.

"Harry-" Dumbledore solemnly mumbled, gazing down at the boy, his eyes full of sympathy.

Then it clicked; the gears suddenly began working in Harry's brain. He looked up at the professor, his face bearing a look of pure hatred. "How long have you known?"

Dumbledore looked away from him, shaking his head softly from side to side.

"You knew all along, and you decided not to tell me! You knew that I was going to die, and you let me live with hope; thinking that sometime in the future I could finally defeat Voldemort and be normal?" Harry hollered, clenching his fist as he swiftly stood up from his seat.

His eyes locked with Hermione's tearful ones again before he left the room. Harry stormed throughout the corridors, finding himself at a loss of breath; he was going to die.

His mind flashed to his future; he was never going to have a family. Never going to get married. Never going to grow old. He was never going to receive any of the privileges that any of his peers had because of his glorified name. But worst of all, he was never going to tell Hermione that he loved her; and the thought of that, is what troubled him most.