White Linen Lies | Dramione

Chapter 1: Born of the Flames

Author's Note: 

This chapter contains excerpts from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling, as well as potential source material from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, a Warner Bros production. Any material sourced directly from these works of media and all of their Intellectual Property are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling and/or Warner Bros. I do not claim any of the aforementioned as my own.

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A suffocating silence lingered in the heavy air of the Great Hall. Hermione could feel the gaze of hundreds of eyes piercing through her, all of which had a final destination of Harry. A feeling of unease coursed through her once confident heart. She could feel the reality of the situation seeping into her mind, but she would not dare speak it into existence.

Something was going to go wrong.

She remained uncharacteristically quiet. Suddenly, a shrill voice broke the resounding silence. It belonged to Pansy Parkinson.

"But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"

Before Hermione or Harry could speak, there was a massive movement. The Gryffindors in front of him had risen and stood facing, not Harry, but the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs stood, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, all of them, with their backs to Harry, all of them looking toward Pansy instead, and Harry, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and undersleeves. "Thank you, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow, I believe the dungeons would do."

As the sound of Slytherins being corralled to the dungeons along with Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff to safety with their house heads, Hermione, Ron, and Harry turned to face each other. Hermione decided to allow Ron to lay out his plan to Harry; her brain was working too quickly as it was—she could use a second of someone else plotting.

"Harry, listen, I had a thought earlier. What good is finding the next Horcrux if we can't destroy it? The sword is gone. Instead of wasting time, we should—"

"Ron," Harry swiftly cut him off, his breaths heavy with anticipation and adrenaline. "While I appreciate the thought, we have to find the diadem. We can figure out how to get rid of it once we have it, but we can't just—"

"Oi, calm down mate!" Ron interjected, "I know we need to find them all. I was going to suggest that instead of going together, you go find the bloody tiara while 'Mione and I go down to the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione cringed internally at the nickname that she had been unable to escape for the past nine months. Her eyes swiftly moved back to Harry, who mumbled, "The chamber? Why would you..."

She watched as the gears turned in her best friend's mind, piecing together Ron's plan.

"Oh my god, the Basilisk fang. Ron, that's brilliant!" A hopeful smile tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth. Wasting none of the little time they had remaining, Harry quickly dug into his pocket and pulled out the Marauder's Map, shoving it into Ron's hands.

She tried not to view it as a parting gift.

"Go, we'll come find you once the cup is destroyed. We'll bring the fang back with us for the diadem," Ron said, grabbing Hermione's hand as he began to pull her away.

Harry took one last look at her, his eyes meeting her nervous gaze. His gaze lingered a beat, eyes tightening, as he read the hesitation lingering in her unusually calm demeanour. He shot her a final soft smile as a small vote of confidence as Ron tugged her out of the Great Hall and down the corridor. She watched in silence as her best friend ran in the opposite direction, hoping she would see him again.