Intoxication

"Every addiction starts with pain and ends with pain."

Chapter One: Horcrux

"Stupify!"

Hermione's breath was coming hard and fast as she tried to outrun the Death Eater that was tailing a little too close for comfort behind her. Based on the size, she deduced that it could be either Lestrange or Dolohov, not that she wanted to turn around and ask. Her footing kept slipping as she ran through the snowy forest they were currently battling in. What was once white, pure snow was now polluted with blood as it seeped and spread like a virus. Bodies were strewn across the ground, body parts severed and littered like a macabre garden of limbs. It was impossible to distinguish who was a Death Eater and who was an Order member at this point.

A flash of red went flying past her head, singing the ends of her hair as the curse collided with a tree trunk in front of her sending debris flying. Hermione sent a purple flash behind her hoping it would hit her target but knowing it wouldn't. She had to get back to their base towards the portkey.

This mission was a bust. The death count was too numerous for either side to consider this a victory. It was just carnage at this point like everything else in the world. Hermione was a robot. A blood seeking, murderous robot. At the age of 19, there was still no end in sight to this war. If she had to think about it, this was probably 'Final Battle' number 8, and she had run out of hope around number four. The goal was now just not dying. There was no Gryffindor spark in her anymore. The number of lives she had taken, the number of bodies she had ripped apart had taken its toll on her and her soul. She didn't even think there was a chance she'd be let in through the pearly gates when her day of retribution came. How was she going to justify the number of lives she had taken? It wasn't for the innocent lives or the greater good anymore. It was practically a hobby now. The only thing that made her feel alive was her secret indulgence that she knew Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Kid-Wonder, would never understand or accept.

Harry still remained hopeful.

A fool's hope.

He still threw rallies to make people believe they had a chance of winning, still gave resounding speeches like any idol figure would, but it was all hallowed out words to Hermione. She found it naive that he still thought they could save the world. That there was even a world worth living in if they could save it. The world was as dead as she felt, her emotions personified. London was blown to pieces, Diagon Alley was burnt to ashes, and all throughout Great Britain bodies and skeletons littered the streets like monuments dedicated to the war. The muggle world and the wizarding world were dilapidated messes, not worth even the rats that inhabited them. The only refuge both muggles and witches and wizards could take was to escape to America, but they had closed their borders for fear of letting a Death Eater through.

But still, Harry's positivity and hopefulness sang out like a songbird reaching all corners of life pleading for others to keep fighting for what's right.

And it angered Hermione to no end.

She didn't have what little heart she had left to tell Harry and the Order that they were delusional. That this, all of this, was useless.

That this, all of this, was pointless.

It was pointless!

How could he not see that this was a fool's errand at this point? How could he and the Order not see that the only goal on both sides was not to die? She was willing to bet that if she asked a Death Eater," Do you still believe in what you're fighting for and that you'll win?" they would tell her fuck no. The only goal that even Voldemort had at this point was to not die. They were just going to keep going to 'the Final Battle' until either side didn't have enough members to fight, and one side would win by default.

Hermione was one of the Order's top killers for two reasons and it certainly wasn't so the Order could win, and Harry could use the countless lives she had taken for his tirade of 'good championing over evil'. It was so she didn't die or be captured. Because if she was captured that would be a fate worse than death. They would drag it out until she was begging for death

That. Was. It.

But regardless of all of that, she ran like her life depended on it, she fought like she had something worth fighting for, and she smiled and helped make plans with the Order like she always had done. Because that's what Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl, did. She fought for what was 'good' in this world and killed Death Eaters like ants.

As Hermione ran, her shoes slapping against the bloody snow, she had had enough. Her feet were freezing, and the exhaustion was setting in. She skidded to a stop and threw a curse at the Death Eater not even three feet behind her.

"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione yelled out and aimed it right at his chest. The Death Eater didn't even have a chance to react, shocked at her sudden action. The green flash hit true to its target and the Death Eater went flying away from her, dead before he even hit the ground. Hermione's breath was fogging in front of her face as she walked slowly through the slush towards the unmoving body. The killing never felt easier but it never felt hard. The worst Unforgivable Curse flowed from her lips like music, the wand work like breathing. She nudged the body with her foot, so it flipped over to it's back. Squatting down, she breathed in deeply as she reached up and removed the mask.

It wasn't Dolohov or Lestrange. She wasn't so lucky…

It was a kid.

Well, not a kid, but someone who looked like they were around her age. There was a thought that told her she should feel something about looking at the pale face of a person that she probably went to school with, but as she searched for it, nothing came to her. It looked like just a face on a body that was just dead.

"It never gets easier, huh, Mione?" she heard Ron say behind her.

Pretend the voice hissed in the back of her mind. Tears started to brim her eyes as she turned to face her ex.

"Yeah", she sniffled," He doesn't look very old."

"You did what you had to", he nodded with understanding as he wrapped his arm around her.

You did what you had to…

If only he knew how many.

"We gotta go", he pulled her towards the portkey," Harry is waiting and the rest of us are meeting him. I think we cleared the forest."

"Let me guess", Hermione asked rhetorically," We didn't win this Final Battle?"

"No, it would appear not", Ron frowned," But we'll get them next time Mione, I'm sure of it."

Idiots. Fools. Naïve.

"You're right, Ron", the words flowed out like venom from clenched teeth," We just have to keep trying."

Body by dismembered body they walked by, and all the while Ron spewed his empty words of hope and promise of a better tomorrow.

Lies, lies, lies.

Up ahead she could see Harry standing with what few members they had left on this mission: Tonks, Mad-Eye, Luna, Ginny, and Neville. The essentials Hermione thought morbidly. The rest of the essentials stayed behind at Head Quarters while they brought mindless Order followers with them like cattle for slaughter.

"Mione!" Harry pulled her into an involuntary hug," I am so relieved to see you!"

"You too", Hermione patted his back, trying her best not to shrivel up," Let's get back and count our losses."

"I really tried my best guys", Harry addressed the group," I couldn't find the Horcrux I thought was here. I was sure Nagini would be here with the Death Eaters."

Here we fucking go…

Hermione wanted to scream and claw out her eyes as the 'Don't worry Harry!'s and the 'You tried your best!' and the 'We'll get them next time!' started. She watched as the remaining Order members patted their Messiah on the back and give him their 'Atta boy's and she wanted to wretch.

He loves the attention the voice hissed in the back of her head.

She refused to participate. She never got an atta girl for the number of lives she had to take for his sake. She never got praised for being ruthless and doing what it took to survive. Where were her thanks? Where were her pats on the back?

As they were about to grab onto the portkey, a dark shadow appeared behind the group, wand in hand.

"Harry, look out!" Tonks yelled out as the wand was aimed at the Boy-Who-Lived.

Before Hermione could even stop herself, before she even had a thought, those words flowed from her lips like a song.

"Avada Kedavra."

The green flash went through the group and hit the cloaked figure before Harry even had a chance to look at the threat that was spoken out by Tonks. Instead, his eyes stayed on the threat in front of him in the form of one of his best friends. She felt their judging eyes on her, how quickly she cast the most Unforgivable Curse like it was if she was asking someone for tea. Before any words were exchanged, Hermione grabbed the portkey and vanished from the snowy, red forest, leaving bodies and hanging mouths behind.

Hermione landed in front of Andromeda Black's old ancestral home that now housed the Order's new headquarters. Its falling bricks laid around the exterior of the home like it was weeping its own tears, its windows broken and the roof halfway caving in.

The perfect place for a headquarters… Hermione grimly thought. The odds of them winning were reflected in the presence of the building: deteriorating by the day. Hermione could hear the other's snaps cracking behind her as they appeared, and she swiftly headed towards the front door. She didn't need a lecture about the quickness of using her favorite spell.

"Hermione!" She heard Harry behind her, but she kept stalking forward.

Don't let him get to you, don't let him touch you, don't let him see the death in your eyes.

She heard the whisper of the voice behind her eyes.

"Mione!" she felt his hand grip her upper arm. Her instincts immediately kicked in and she wheeled herself around, snatching her arm out of his grip with disgust on her face, like his touch burned her.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione spat out, hot fury filling her heart. Harry's shocked look did nothing to calm her as Ron and the others stood a distance behind Harry not wanting to intervene.

"Hermione…" Harry started, slowly walking towards her with his palms open as if he was walking towards an untamed animal," We need to talk about your magic."

"What about it?" her eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm worried at how much dark magic you're using", Harry explained," It's taking its toll on you."

"The only toll it's taking on", Hermione closed the distance between them, not wanting to beat around the bush," Are the bodies that my wand is aimed towards. You're alive aren't you?"

Harry didn't respond as he looked at her with that disgusting look of pity he got when he feels bad for someone, or they don't understand where his opinion was coming from. And she understood him perfectly.

"Is my magic not good enough for you up close where you can see it?" Hermione asked boldly," Is my magic only good enough when you all can't hear me taking the lives of the people who want to kill us? When it's up close and personal you all can't stomach it, can you? Can't stomach what I have the nerve to do to get us home safely."

Hermione's volatile eyes scanned from Harry to the rest of the Order members behind her. Ron had the decency to look away in shame. Her eyes came back to land on Harry whose cheeks were turning pink.

"Don't ask me to fight in a war if you don't plan on me doing what it takes to live", Hermione spit out," Get a fucking backbone, Harry, and realize how hypocritical you're being. You aren't going to get an 'atta boy' from me when I am the one that saved your life, and you haven't saved mine or anyone's yet."

Harry flinched at her words, and she took that as the discussion being over. Turning on her heal, she stalked towards the house and slammed the door behind her. The fuckers could stay outside and think about what she said for all she cared. Hermione walked past Order members asking how the battle went, their questions being unanswered as she headed straight towards her bedroom. Well… The sad excuse for a bedroom she had. The house was falling apart from being attacked before. The Order was hoping it was a double bluff where Death Eaters wouldn't check here twice after savaging it several years prior. The rooms were broken apart, the floors had holes that you could go through, and the chill of the October air couldn't be chased out even with the best of warming spells. But it was a place that allowed her to seclude herself. A place that allowed her to divulge in the only thing that made her feel anything anymore, away from prying eyes that would judge and condemn her if they knew.

"Mione, please wait", she heard Ron race up behind her," Please talk to me."

"Please stop calling me Mione", Hermione asked, turning her head to the side to look at him, her hand already on her door handle.

"He's just worried about you", Ron continued, ignoring her request like he always did," We all are worried about you. I know this war is taking its toll on all of us but you're withdrawing from us. We all have noticed."

"This war is taking its toll on all of us…"

Is it? Is it really?

Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose as she turned to face him fully.

"Is it, Ron?" Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest," Has it been taking its toll on people? I haven't noticed. I'm glad you brought this to my attention."

"See!" Ron pointed to her," You're doing it again! You aren't acting like yourself. You're cold, you're distant, you're snarky and rude."

"I'm rude?" Hermione's mouth fell open," I just saved Harry's life back there and you all are treating me like I'm the bad guy. None of you wants to face the truth of what we have to do to make it home safely. You kill people, Harry has killed people, we all have. I'm the only one that has the balls to say it and do it without guilt! I do what needs to be done."

"You do it without remorse, Hermione…" Ron stated, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. She recognized the look in his eyes. It was fear. She had become something to fear, even to her best friends.

"You do it without a second thought, with no emotion", Ron told her, as if she already didn't know. "I think the task you have been assigned to is taking too much of a toll on you. I'm afraid for you soul, Mione."

Hermione stared into his eyes, eyes that she once thought she saw love in, eyes that she swooned for back when she was a child. But now she felt nothing looking into them. The only thing she felt was the itch to be in her room, away from the prying eyes. Keeping his eye contact, she grasped the doorknob behind her, opened the door and stepped over the threshold into the room.

"I told you not to call me that anymore."

And she shut the door, jamming it to the side so it fit in the frame. She locked it behind her and charmed it so it couldn't be unlocked by a spell. Moving to her wire bedframe, she sat at the edge of her padded mat she called a bed, the springs singing beneath her as she pulled her bloodied boots off of her frozen feet. From the knees down, her clothes were stiff and unmovable from the amount of blood that had dried itself to her. The pants slid off her legs and fell to the floor where she kicked them across the room as she exhaled noisily through her nose.

How fucking dare, he…

'I'm worried about your soul.'

What soul?

Hermione rotated her neck, the sounds of cracking and snapping emitting as the voice in the back of her head whispered through her skull what little soul she had left. The little voice, her little companion. The voice was a male voice. It appeared a few months ago as a trinkle and now was a flowing river of consciousness through her mind. It was soothing. It was a polished, soft male voice that would whisper from the back of her head that would flow to behind her eyes, coating her brain like warm honey. If only the voice said such sweet things…

It spoke of her darker thoughts. It was like every dark and intrusive thought she ever had was brought to the surface by the voice. At first, she would suppress it. She had never heard the voice before. She didn't have the faintest idea of whose it was. At first Hermione thought she may have snapped and gone crazy of the years of war and turmoil. But nothing else was wrong. Nothing else seemed different. She just had a louder voice in her head than her own streamline of consciousness. The more it would point things out that bothered her and brought things out that she had suppressed, the more she paid attention to it. It was like the only voice that would speak out and agree with her was in her own head. It helped justify what she had to do, pointed out the logical side of why she had to be the way she was, and it helped not make her feel alone. Maybe she was crazy, but at least she had a friend in her head to keep her company.

Padding across her room in her underwear, she pulled the blood-stained shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Walking over to her dresser, her heart pounded in her ears with each step. Hermione had been dying to scratch this itch since apparating home, her dresser drawer calling for her like a siren. Turning to check that her locked door was still charmed and impenetrable, she waved her wand over her dresser door, removing the wards that protected it, and opened it slowly and quietly. Inside she grabbed her beaded handbag and quickly walked to her bedside to sit on the edge. Reaching her hand in, she grabbed out the items she longed for. The items that soothed the chaos in her heart and made her feel alive again. As she slid the black stoned ring over her index finger, she could feel her heart starting to pound harder. The feeling of dark magic slicking her veins like oil as it pumped adrenaline through her system. With shaking hands, she lifted the locket over her head, pulling her hair through and letting it fall between her naked breasts, feeling it thrum against her like a hummingbird against her own heart.

Hermione inhaled a deep, shuddering breath as she felt the dark magic meet her own and intermingle like long-lost lovers meeting again. Closing her eyes, she leaned back into her bed and felt every pulse and nerve in her become alive.

This was her guilty pleasure.

This is what was worth coming home to.

Harry and Ron would never understand. They couldn't. If they saw her like this, exposed and vulnerable with these cursed items on her, they would be horrified.

They would never forgive you.

They will never understand you.

Hermione didn't need them to understand her. She understood herself. Everyone had their vices. Even here in the Order, she knew you didn't ask another witch or wizard what it took for them to see another day. Some used drugs, some used alcohol, some used potions, some even used sex. You didn't ask, you didn't judge.

But she would be.

How could she not be? She knew logically this was wrong. She knew she shouldn't feel comforted by feeling the fear course through her body by wearing these items, but she couldn't help herself. Hermione was addicted and she fully admitted that fact to herself. It started as a morbid curiosity that quickly turned into a sick intoxication. Hermione felt drunk with dark magic when wearing them, like she could take on the world and anyone in it. It made her own pulsating dark magic feel smooth and flawless as it spiraled around his dark magic. She didn't need anyone to understand. She still fought for the Light, still fought for the Order, and still went through her same motions. It wasn't anyone else's business what she did to see another day, what she did to soothe her troubles.

Getting up from her bed on shaky legs, she stalked over to her mirror and gazed with glassy eyes at the locket that laid between her breasts, gently turning it over in her fingers, admiring the glint it caught in the light.

It looks beautiful there, doesn't it?

"It does", Hermione whispered to the voice.

Humming to herself with closed eyes, she took herself back to bed and nestled under the thin blankets, her hand with the ring closed around the locket, like she was protecting it. Even in her sleep, she couldn't bear for something to happen to her horcruxes.

Hermione sat at the pathetic excuse of a dining room table, the essentials of the Order surrounding the table with her. Ron had already commented on the dark circles under her eyes twice and Harry had side glanced her at least five times, still not talking to her after what she said to him the day prior.

Like he'd have anything interesting to say.

Hermione snorted to herself quietly, not trying to draw attention to herself. She was only briefly paying attention to what the table was talking about. Something about war prisoners that needed to be interrogated.

"Well, we have to do something!" Tonks spoke out loudly," We can't just keep them forever."

"What would you suppose we do then?" Mad-Eye asked," Just let them go?"

"Of course not!" Tonks rolled her eyes," But who is going to speak to them? He isn't going to give information easily."

"Fred and Bill are the ones who caught him", Remus brought up," Maybe they could interrogate him?"

"They don't have it in them", Ron answered on behalf of his brothers," Especially for that sod. Whoever talks to him is going to have to go all out. He is one of the right-hand men of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. If you think talking to him is just going to get the job done, you're dreaming."

"Why doesn't Hermione do it?" Harry spoke out. Hermione's eyes flashed up to meet the bright green ones that sat across from her, daring her to speak out. She knew what he was doing. He was bating her, seeing if she really was the monster he thought her to be.

Fool.

No one said anything. Just looked at the two best friends who stared at each other as Hermione scraped her fork prongs along the plate in front of her.

"How bout it Mione", Harry egged her on more," You talk such a big game. Why not put your talents to use?"

"Because my talents don't involve talking, Potter", Hermione sneered back. Remus had wide eyes as Ron pursed his lips and stared at his plate, not wanting to say anything to his two best friends.

"I feel a lot of tension", Luna's soft voice weaved through the people at the table. Hermione's dry, shot eyes flashed to the pale girl that was a few seats down from her.

"For people who are supposed to fight for the light, there is a lot of darkness swirling around us", she continued.

"The only darkness here are the items that Hermione has been entrusted with", Mad-Eye commented. At the mention of her horcruxes, Hermione's heartrate started skyrocketing.

"I think it's time we move the job to someone else", Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend," I think the task is starting to become too much for her to handle alone."

He doesn't trust you.

"Why don't you focus on winning this war once and for all and we could all stop this charade of still pretending were the best friends we were in school", Hermione snapped," Maybe I'm tired of having to pick up your messes."

"That's enough!" Remus slammed the table causing almost everyone to jump. Almost everyone. Hermione remained still, frowning towards the head of the table.

"We are a team dammit!" he yelled out," Stop acting like children fighting on the playground. We need to get back to the matter at hand. Interrogating the Death Eaters we have captured."

"I'll do it", Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed as she pushed her chair back from the table. Throwing her napkin on her plate she headed out of the room and towards the hall that would lead to their makeshift dungeons in the basement.

"Get this shit over with."

The basement always left a chill running down her spine. It was wet and reeked of mildew. Moss grew on the walls and stale air hung everywhere around her. Against the far wall, she could see two Death Eaters separated by bars and chains locked all over them.

"You two look comfy", Hermione commented as she approached.

"No, shit", she heard the male voice on the right say," Is that you mudblood?"

Hermione squinted her eyes through the darkness and recognized the curly hair that once belonged on a boy that was now a man.

"Theodore Nott", Hermione crossed her arms," How I ever did I get so lucky to get one of the Slytherin Prince's best friends? Must be Christmas."

Theo smirked at her," And here I thought I wouldn't have a present for you. Turns out, I am the present! Lucky me…"

"Who do we got over there", Hermione took her wand and waved to the barred room next to him to the figure crouched on the ground.

"Lumos."

Sadly, it was a nobody.

Not even worth the magic it would take to get him to talk. She turned, wand at the ready, looking at Theo Nott. Now he was worth the magic. Hermione could practically smell all of the secrets he had in them. She wanted to wring him dry to see if they'd come pouring out.

"I'm surprised they sent you down here", Theo spoke out," Aren't they wanting information?"

"Yes, I believe that they are", Hermione nodded and crouched down, so she was eye level with him," That's why I came down here. I don't often see you or any of the Slytherin prodigies out on the battlefield. What's up with that?"

Theo snorted. "Why waste the lives that matter? We are more 'big picture'. Take that guy over there-"

Theo motioned with his head to his cell mate.

"He doesn't matter", he told her," He is someone you'd see on the battlefield."

"Then you don't care if I'd kill him?" Hermione stood, pointing to the guy with his wand.

"Please don't!" A voice rang out.

He certainly was a boy still. He didn't look older than them and they were young as is. He looked up with pleading eyes at Hermione, dirt surrounding them as they became glossy with tears.

"I don't want to be here anymore", he cried out," I didn't even want to be a Death Eater. I just became one because of my father."

"Tale as old as time", Hermione replied, feigning sadness," I'm that Malfoy prick could relate. Or even Nott here."

Hermione scraped her shoes over to the cell that held the boy now crying and shaking.

"Do you have any valuable information for me?"

"Like what?"

"Shut up Jones", Theo hissed.

"No, no", Hermione waved her hand at Theo like she was shooing him away," This is a conversation between us. Mind your own business Theo."

"He doesn't even know anything mudblood. He's just a body."

Hermione sighed. "Is that true, Jones was it? Do you not know anything?"

Quivering the boy nodded," I promise I don't. I will work with you guys though if you free me. I can be a member of the Order."

"Traitor!" Theo yelled out.

What a pickle this put her in. She was hoping the poor boy had at least something to give her. Now she had to put all of her eggs into the Theo basket. That made things a lot harder for her and she really didn't want to have to work hard this morning.

He's useless. Kill him.

Hermione rolled her neck and raised her wand before Theo and the boy could realize what she was about to do.

"Avada Kedavra."

The green flashed through the bars and sent the boy flying into the wall behind him, a sickening thud echoing through the basement as his bones contacted with stone.

"Holy shit!" Theo looked between the body and Hermione with wide eyes.

Hermione looked over at Theo lazily, her wand still hot in her hand. She was about to threaten him, but his laughing took her completely by surprise.

He's laughing… Why is he laughing?

"What is so funny?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'm shocked", he continued to laugh," I would have never thought Hermione Mudblood Granger would kill someone. He had never even taken a life yet. He just got unlucky and got captured with me."

"One less mouth to feed around here", she justified. To be frank, it didn't bother her at all that the boy was innocent. It was just one less person she had to think about, one less person to have to talk to. Just another body to add to her collection.

"That definitely couldn't have been your first kill", Theo edged closer to the bars," Tell me, Granger, how many are you at? 20? 30? 50?!"

Hermione smirked," Granger now, is it?"

"Someone who kills that ruthlessly deserves to be addressed by their name", he told her. Did he actually respect her for what she did? Hermione eyed him suspiciously, analyzing every fleck in his eyes, every line on his face. There was no trace of it.

The horror, the judgement, the pity that everyone above them in the house constantly gave her. There was no fear on his face at who she was becoming. There was admiration, there was respect.

How refreshing.

"I don't know", Hermione shook her head slowly," Definitely not that low, though, I can promise you that. It has to be almost nearing the 4 digits if anything."

Theo whistled slowly.

"Impressive", he told her, and it took everything, everything, in Hermione not to beam with pride. She was sick wasn't she? That she felt pride in herself as a killer. As a murderer.

Everyone has hobbies.

"So, tell me", Hermione sat across from him on the ground, crossing her legs," What were you doing that made the Order capture you so effortlessly?"

"An answer for an answer?" Theo raised his left eyebrow.

Her defenses immediately went up.

"What's in it for me to share my secrets with you?"

Theo shrugged," Because you could just kill me but I'm willing to play if you are. I am a Slytherin after all."

Hermione didn't answer at first, thinking about his offer. She could play his game. Amuse herself for a little bit for the first time in long time. The voice wasn't warding her away from it and he was usually her voice of truth. If anything goes wrong, she could just kill him.

"Fine", Hermione nodded," I'll play. You are first. Answer my question."

"I was looking for something", he told her.

"Looking for what?

"Nuh uh", he shook his head," My turn."

Sighing, she nodded," Fine. Hurry up."

"Do you think the Order will still win."

Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips as stared at him.

Fucker.

"No", Hermione answered truthfully," But I don't think your side will either. I think we are going to just keep killing each other until there is nothing left."

Theo nodded, looking off to the side as she could tell he was thinking about what she said.

"What were you looking for?"

His eyes met hers again, nothing in them but a void.

"Horcruxes."

Your horcruxes.

"Are you happy being with the Order?"

"No."

"Why are you looking for horcruxes?"

"Because he needs them. Are you still friends with Pothead and WeaselBee?"

"I don't think friends is the right word anymore. Do you have an idea of which horcruxes you were looking for?"

"Yes. Does it bother you to kill people?"

"No. Did you get close to the horcruxes you were looking for?"

"I am a lot closer now…"

A ringing went through Hermione's ears as she stared with wide eyes full of alarm at the Slytherin that sat in front of her chained to the floor, a noticeable wide smirk stretched across his face. He knew that she knew what he was implying.

Don't let him take your horcruxes the voice rang loudly in her head.

"You know we have some of the, don't you?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk", Theo leaned back," That's two questions mudblood. One too many."

"You won't get them", Hermione stood along with every hair on her body," I won't let you get them."

"It's not me you have to worry about", Theo said. Malice and trickery were etched on his face as he grinned a wide-toothed predatory grin at her. Hermione huffed and turned on her heel to head upstairs, no longer in the mood to interrogate.

"It looks like maybe they're getting to you instead!"