Chapter 2: Battle of Wits
Morning arrived unreasonably quickly, or at least that is what it seemed like to Hermione when she was awakened by the sunlight that streamed in through the only window in the room. She rolled over on her side with her back to the window and tried to go back to sleep, but found that she couldn’t after about twenty minutes. When her stomach made a gurgling noise, Hermione gave up, knowing that she had to eat soon. She got out of bed with a reluctant groan, got dressed, and went downstairs to the kitchen.
When Hermione entered the kitchen, she saw that Harry and Ron were sitting around the table in the kitchen, eating breakfast and discussing how to get the locket from Umbridge. Both of them stopped talking and looked at Hermione when they noticed her presence in the doorway.
“Morning, ‘Mione,” said Ron and Harry at the same time.
“Good morning to you too,” Hermione responded.
“So do you have any ideas on how to snatch Slytherin’s locket right out from under that old toad’s nose?” Ron asked Hermione.
“Not any good ones yet, but I will try to think of something. You?”
“Not yet. However, I do think that if we go to the Ministry”outside of it and in disguise”and observe the habits of the employees, we might be able to formulate a plan,” Harry answered.
“Harry, are you sure that’s such a good idea? I mean, except for Hogwarts, the Ministry is probably the most dangerous place for you to go right now, since you do have a ten-thousand-galleon price on your head,” Hermione protested worriedly.
“Well, how else are we supposed to get to the locket? I don’t see either you or Ron coming up with any brilliant ideas, so why not try. What does it hurt, especially since the entire future of the Wizarding world is resting on our shoulders?” Harry argued.
“But we are walking straight into the hornet’s nest! Going to the Ministry is as dangerous and as stupid as walking up to Voldemort’s front door and letting him kill you on his doorstep! It is just too risky!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Some risks are worth taking. I, for one, am not going to sit idly by and watch Voldemort take over the world without a fight, even if that means my own death,” declared Harry.
“I am not saying that we shouldn’t do anything, but we”well, you”must not do anything rash. To reiterate, walking up to the Ministry, even invisible or in disguise, is suicide! Don’t you agree, Ron?” Hermione said.
“No, I don’t, Hermione,” Ron answered sheepishly. “I’m sorry, but I think that Harry is correct and it is at least worth trying.”
Hermione felt hot tears well up in her eyes, and she shrieked, “Of course you’re siding with Harry. You always do. Why did I think that you would agree with me for a change? But no, Hermione is always wrong and she over-thinks things! Just you wait, Ronald Weasley!”
And with that, Hermione ran from the kitchen, and stomped up the staircase to her bedroom, where she slammed the door childishly. ‘Why does Ron have to be such a prat sometimes,’ Hermione thought viciously as she collapsed onto her bed unceremoniously.
Hermione stared at the ceiling for a long while, seething with anger. ‘This is useless,’ Hermione thought. ‘What is the point of just staring at the ceiling doing nothing but thinking negative thoughts? It is just counterproductive.’
So Hermione got up and Summoned The Tales of Beedle the Bard, so she could study and decipher the runes within it. She eventually got so frustrated with the book and Dumbledore for giving it to her, for it was seemingly useless (it only contained children’s stories), that she slammed the book shut.
Hermione then decided that the best way to vent her anger and frustration was to write in the mysterious journal again. She grabbed the diary and retrieved her quill and inkwell furiously. Hermione opened up the diary, and found that all of the pages were blank, much to her surprise. Where was the entry that she had written? There was no possible, logical way that it could have just disappeared, so what had happened to it?
Going against her inquisitive nature, Hermione decided to dwell on this later, since she had too much on her mind as it was. She dipped her quill into the ink and held it over the page, poised to write. ‘Where to start,’ she thought.
As she was lost in thought, a drop of black ink fell from the tip of the quill, splattering the once-blank page. She instantly snapped out of her reverie when the ink splotch was absorbed into the page, leaving it blank once more. Hermione swiftly turned the page and found that it was blank as well. Puzzled and a little frightened, she turned the rest of the pages to see where the ink could have gone. She then flipped to the first page when she discovered that all of the pages were in pristine condition.
Hermione stared at the page for a minute or two, trying to figure out what was wrong with the diary. When she was about to give up, a neat script that was not her own appeared on the page.
'Very clever, Mudblood,' it read. 'I would have never thought that anyone would find this. Yes, this is the "bastard", as you so eloquently stated. How did you discover my greatest secret? I never told anyone that I created Horcruxes, not even my most loyal followers. So, how did you, an unworthy Mudblood Gryffindor, discover that I had made Horcruxes?
'Having to listen to you prattle on about your pitiful life was sheer torture. If I could come out of this diary, I would kill you, not only for destroying my Horcruxes and consorting with Potter, but for making me endure that. Let me assure you that your death would not be quick and painless.'
To say that Hermione was shocked, frightened, and very angry would be the understatement of the millennium. She gaped at the journal. Hermione Granger was rarely ever wrong about anything, so how could she be so wrong about this diary being a Horcrux? How could she be so stupid as to write that she was helping Harry Potter to kill him? Hermione, for once, did not know what to do. It was as if her brain had frozen, and she couldn’t thaw it.
Uncharacteristically, Hermione did something without thinking it through first; she wrote back.
'Do you honestly believe that I would tell you how I know about your Horcruxes? If you do, then your highly reputed intelligence is overrated. Do you have any idea how much of a hypocrite you are? You call me a Mudblood when you are just a half-blood yourself. You are half of what you despise so much. Muggle father, Muggle name. How does that make you feel, Tom Marvolo Riddle?
'I, unlike you, am not afraid to die, because I know that there are much worse things than death in this world. That is your greatest fear, isn’t it? Death. Is that not why you made seven Horcruxes? Yes, I know how many there are and what they are. Are you scared, Riddle? You should be, because the thing that you fear the most is not that far away, and you know it. Harry Potter will defeat you with my help, and there is nothing you can do about it.'
Not even waiting for a response, Hermione slammed the diary shut and flung it across the room as if it contained a highly deadly contagious disease. She sat on her bed for a minute a two, adrenaline coursing through her veins, making it impossible for her to think clearly and feel the gravity of the situation, before she got up, and made her way downstairs to find Harry and Ron. Hermione eventually found them in the sitting room playing wizard’s chess.
At first, they didn’t notice her, for they were too ensconced in their game, but Harry looked up and said, “Oh, sorry, Hermione. Didn’t see you there. Are you okay? No offense, but you look awful.”
“No, I am not okay, Harry,” Hermione uttered weakly.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked.
“A lot,” Hermione said, crossing the room to flop down into one of the many armchairs scattered around the room.
Harry and Ron were both staring at her expectantly as they waited for her to continue.
“You know the diary that I found in the Riddle House?” Hermione asked wearily, and both of them nodded.
“Well, I was wrong. Horribly wrong, actually.” Hermione took a big breath before adding on, “It was Riddle’s diary. And that’s not the worst of it. Apparently, it is a Horcrux, as well.”
“How is that even possible? I destroyed it beyond magical repair. Besides, how would you even know this anyway?” Harry asked.
“Last night I was stupid enough to write in it as if it were a normal diary. Today, however, it came back to haunt me. When I opened it today, to write in it again, I found that my previous entry wasn’t there. I disregarded it because I was just so angry at the two of you, which was foolish. I was about to write, and a drop of ink fell into the diary, and it disappeared. I inspected the diary and didn’t find the ink anywhere. Then it responded.
“I was angry enough to write back. He knows that we are looking for his Horcruxes, because I told him. I didn’t mean to, of course. I wrote it when I thought that it was just a diary. I assume that Voldemort must have repaired it somehow, and put another piece of his soul into it,” Hermione said, ending her monologue.
“We have to destroy it as soon as possible,” said Harry after a long silence.
“I agree, Harry,” Hermione said solemnly.
“Please promise me that you won’t write in it again. Remember what it did to Ginny? She poured her heart into that thing and it possessed her,” Harry pleaded.
“Of course I remember what Riddle did to Ginny,” Hermione scoffed. “I have no intention of writing in that diary again. I never did. Besides, I will not let Voldemort possess me.”
“Blimey, I can’t believe that it’s a Horcrux again,” Ron said in slight disbelief.
“Neither can I,” Hermione responded.
They stayed in the sitting room until dinner, just staring at the fire. Hermione dwelled on the issue the whole time, and she was pretty sure that the other two were doing that as well.
Dinner was a quiet affair, which was quite unusual because they normally conversed with each other. No one spoke a word, for they were too wrapped up in their thoughts.
Hermione retired to her room early. She sat on her bed, glaring at the Horcrux on the floor in the opposite corner of the room. They didn’t have any basilisk venom at hand, and Fiendfyre, she thought, was too dangerous. She had no idea how they were supposed to destroy it without either of those two things. She took out Secrets of the Darkest Art, to see if she missed anything while reading the section on how to destroy Horcruxes.
Hermione suddenly felt sleepy, so she changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and crawled into bed.
Despite how tired she was, Hermione could not fall asleep. She was too troubled to sleep. Sleep finally claimed her three hours later, and Hermione welcomed it, as she slipped into oblivion.
Fading Ink by Wicked Sapphira
Chapter Notes: Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize, J.K. Rowling does. Unfortunately….
Author’s Note: When Hermione writes in the diary, it is in italics, but when Tom writes back, it is in bold letters. Well, anyway, on with the story.
Chapter Endnotes: Author’s Note: Please review. Just so that you don’t get confused, no one except for Dumbledore and Snape know that Harry is a Horcrux at this point, so Hermione didn’t include Harry. However, she did include the diary as a Horcrux, hence seven of them. Did you like the interaction between Hermione and Tom? I sure did. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. A lot of fun, indeed....