Better than me? | Hermione Granger x Reader (GXG) (UNDER EDITING)

|| 40. Voldemort (UN-EDITED)

"Y/N—where's...where am I?" Ron asked, his confusion evident.

"You're in the nurse's office." Y/N explained gently.

"I thought— I thought I was gonna die!" Ron's voice trembled with anxiety, and Y/N tried to soothe him.

"Hey, you're safe now. Take a few deep breaths," she said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Hermione told me not to tell you..." Ron mumbled, his words trailing off.

"Ron, please," Y/N pleaded, concerned about the secrets that were clearly causing tension among their friends.

"I...we went to the third floor where the trapdoor was...and—I was in the wizard's chess, I was about to get hit...and— and... I don't remember," Ron muttered, still sounding a bit disoriented.

"Where's Harry?" Y/N questioned, hoping Ron had some information.

"I don't know..." Ron sighed out, his frustration evident. The uncertainty surrounding their friends weighed heavily on Y/N's mind as she tried to piece together the puzzle.

"I... just stay here, Ron. You don't have any major injuries, don't do anything reckless," Y/N murmured, standing up.

✴✴✴✴✴

Y/N rushed through the corridors, following the path that led to the Grand Staircase. She passed by numerous paintings, the magical artworks whispering and nodding in acknowledgment as she hurried past. Reaching the staircase, she didn't need to give it any direction; it adjusted its path on its own, spiraling her upwards as she ascended.

As she arrived on the desired floor, the familiar architecture greeted her—pillars, columns, knight statues, and the flickering fire pillars that activated with each step she took. She swiftly maneuvered through the halls, her determination unwavering. She reached the door she was seeking, the entrance to the chamber she knew was there.

With a careful touch, she opened the door, revealing the snoozing three-headed dog and the partially open trapdoor. She approached cautiously, aware of the canine's sensitivity to sound. The distant sound of a harp being played reached her ears, and she couldn't help but marvel at the peculiar way the dog's slumber was induced.

"Okay...good doggy..." she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid rousing the creature. 

"Music calms you down, okay..." She glanced at the side, her curiosity piqued by the harmonic trick. Then, her attention returned to the trapdoor, which she knew was her way forward.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the descent. Gripping the edges of the trapdoor, she carefully lowered herself down, the sensation reminding her a bit too vividly of her fall from the broom during the Quidditch match.

"Merlin's beard." She grumbled as she felt herself drop, a twinge of pain shooting through her shoulder where her wound had reopened. 

The landing wasn't graceful, but she managed to avoid screaming. Her surroundings greeted her with an entanglement of black roots that seemed to reach out hungrily, wrapping around her.

"Shit, shit, shit." She muttered, her voice laced with annoyance as she struggled against the encroaching roots. 

The darkness and uncertainty ahead didn't daunt her, but the unexpected grip of the roots presented an unforeseen challenge. She grunted as she tried to extricate herself, her determination and Ravenclaw wit refusing to be subdued.

"Devil's Snare!" she exclaimed, her Herbology lessons rushing back to her in this dire moment. 

"Fuck, I knew Professor Sprout would save my life one day, " she muttered with a mixture of relief and wry amusement as she remembered her professor's teachings. Easing her body and adopting a calm demeanor, she allowed herself to relax into the roots' grip.