only hope

“What in the buggering fuck is a horcrux?” Hera asked, her head blooming with an ache after sitting at this table fit for a massive family for hours as they explained the state of the wizarding world—which Hera could still hardly believe existed.  

A ,”Language,” was hissed under the old woman’s—Mcgonagall’s—breath and Hera was struck with the impression that she didn’t like her much.

Dumbledore cut in before Hera could snip something smart back, either uncaring or unaware to how unnerved Hera was that she was so predictable. “A horcrux is a soul-piece, used to make oneself immortal.”

Hera’s eyes fell on the old man, who sat at the head of the table beside a scruffy man with wild hair and a beard—said man that turned from a dog hours before. Hera was still processing that particular reveal.

“So, let me get this straight. This Voldemort prick split his soul six times?” Hera asked, wondering how that would work logistically. Are you the same person when you split your soul? She couldn’t see how you could be.

“Unfortunately,” the girl with bushy hair said, her soft voice ringing from where she sat beside Hera. 

“But, one of these merged with his modern self,” Dumbledore explained, voice calm. “So, there are only five.” She ignored the shaky breath that came from the plump woman across the table. She wouldn’t ask. Yet.

“So, what? We have to destroy them all before we kill him?” She questioned, voice skeptical. “We can’t just like stick him in the neck with a knife?” She offered, reaching into her front pocket for her switchblade. “I’ve got one.” She held it out, glaring behind the old man when she heard a sigh from the man with a hooked-nose and pitch black hair stood at his back.

The twins however, who Hera was growing to reluctantly enjoy in this short time, let out loud laughter as they looked at her. “Imagine Lord Voldyshorts bested by a pocket knife,” they cackled.

Hera let out a breathy laugh, pocketing her knife and saying, “Yeah, I suppose that’d be too easy.”

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes holding a twinkle. “Yes, unfortunately not, my dear girl,” he said before his face went serious. “For his death, all horcruxes must be destroyed.”

Hera sighed, leaning against her hand and looking at the old man. “Alright. How do we do that?”

A terse silence stretched after her question and she glanced at the nervous group, brow raised. “What? We gotta sacrifice a virgin or something?” She joked.

“Sacrifice! A virg- Well, I never!” The stern woman shouted, offended at her words, looking at Hera aghast. Hera bit her lip to conceal her laughter and saw her abductor shake his head with a purse of his lips. Her eyes gleamed when she realized he was trying not to laugh. He rolled his eyes as their gazes locked.

“Sorry, sorry. My mouth kinda runs from me.” She said with a grin, eyes trailing away from Theo. “I’ll have you know, I’ve never sacrificed anyone.” She drew an x on her chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Yes, well. I assure you. No sacrifices are necessary,” the long-nosed man–Snape–drawled, voice deep and mocking. 

Hera rolled her eyes. Obviously.

“Yeah, well, then what’s the deal?” She asked impatiently, looking toward Dumbledore.

The old man sighed, his eyes growing tired. “Horcruxes can only be destroyed in one of two ways that we know of,” he said sagely. Hera leaned forward in a silent question. “Fiendfyre and Basilisk venom.”

Hera smiled tightly, annoyance flaring in her chest that she was so ignorant of whatever the hell those things were. “Those are?” She asked, gritting her teeth to not show embarrassment.

“Fiendfyre is a spell that creates a flame that cannot be extinguished except by the caster. It is extremely difficult to control,” the curly headed girl beside her stated, her voice high. “And a basilisk is a serpent. Extremely dangerous.” Hera perked up at that.

“Oh, can’t we just talk to it? Get him to like have a nibble?” She asked, looking sideways at the answering witch. The silence that followed her question stretched until Hera cleared her throat, a glare falling into place as everyone stared. “What?” She snapped.

“Hera,” Dumbledore began. “Are you able to speak to snakes?”

Hera’s glare turned to him, softening slightly when she saw no judgment in his eyes. “Is that not normal?”

He shook his head. “It is rare.”

“Oh,” Hera muttered dumbly, but inside she was screaming. Of course even in the wizarding world she’d be a freak.

Frightened glances dominoed around the table Hera felt her temper flare. But, she bit her tongue. She needed their information to get her revenge.

“Merlin, she’s not the Dark Lord,” Theo spoke, his voice flat and annoyed. 

“But, only You-know-who can speak to snakes!” A redheaded man whose name escaped Hera said angrily, face mirroring his hair.

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded, eyes shooting a concerned glance to the girl beside her. “It is merely a magical gift. It doesn’t make you evil!” Hera’s mouth opened, making an indignant noise.

“Enough!” Dumbledore interjected, voice hard and leaving no room for argument. Hera found her mouth closing beside herself. A grumble from Ronald was heard as he looked suspiciously at Hera, who met his eyes with a glare. “We do not need fighting amongst ourselves. This gift will be used for good, regardless if it is dark or not.”

Hera looked challengingly at the scolded order, her head held high before she looked at Dumbledore with a questioning eye. “What’s with this whole light and dark thing anyway? Is it not just all magic?” She asked, her voice curious.

She ignored the aghast gasps from the group and kept her eye on the man who seemed to have all the answers. But he, for the first time since she’d been here, was silent.

“It is,” a voice said to her left and she turned, eyes falling on Theo as he looked at her, his eyes holding something akin to approval.

“Dark magic is evil!” Ronald shouted, his hands slamming on the table, making Hera jump in her seat.

“It is not,” Theo said calmly, eyes hard as they fell on the pale man. “You could kill someone with a simple levitation charm yet that falls in your light magic.” He turned back to Hera. “Dark magic channels emotion. Light does not. That is the only difference.”

“Of course you’d say that. You’re a dark wizard!” Ronald returned, not giving up.

He shrugged, looking at the man with boredom in his eyes. “Dark magic is not something to be ashamed of. You lot use it with the patronus and you’re not calling anyone else here evil.”

Ronald went silent at that and contemplation lingered in the air from the group as he sulked. Hera bit her lip, itching to ask what a patronus was, but her embarrassment at being the only ignorant one kept her back.

“Well, this has been productive,” Dumbledore cut in, his eyes grim. “But I believe it is time to call it a night. It is getting rather late.”

“That might be best,” Snape drawled and with that, the order was dismissed.

“Hera,” the dog-man said as the group stood, tired eyes roving along them. Hera turned, tucking a curl behind her ear as she looked at him in a question. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Hera paused, her brows rising on her forehead. “I get a room?”

He looked at her with a grin. “Of course.”

“Oh,” she said dumbly before recovering with a crooked grin. “Figured you’d stick me on the sofa.”

He stood with a smile, nearing her. “Of course not.” He paused, looking her up and down with soft eyes. “Merlin, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You lot can stop looking at me like some miracle,” she grumbled.  “Let’s just see the room.”

“Sorry,” he apologized as she stood. “You just look so much like them.”

“Them?” She asked. “You mean my parents? You knew them?” Her voice was demanding. Now that she knew they weren’t useless drunks, she wanted to know everything about them. She had someone that loved her, even if it was only for a short while.

“Knew them?” He laughed. “We were best mates.” He looked down, smile growing wistful. “I’m actually your godfather. Sirius.” 

She paused, eyebrows furrowing and lip pursing as she felt something rise in her chest. “My godfather?” She asked slowly. He nodded and her temper flared. “Well, where the hell were you when I was left at the Dursleys?”

He reeled back slightly, smile dropping as she glared up at him. His eyes turned soft as she clenched her fist. “I didn’t abandon you,” Sirius said softly. “I was framed for assisting in their murder. Locked up in Azkaban and when I got out no one knew where you were.”

Her fist unclenched slightly, but her palms stung where her fingernails dug. “Oh,” she said. “That sucks.” She shrugged, her fingers rubbing softly on the crescents now on her palm. An awkward silence ensued as he looked at her with concerned eyes. She avoided his gaze. “So, about that room?” She asked, aching to be alone.

He cleared his throat. “Right.” Beginning to walk toward the stairs, he signaled for her to follow. “I’m putting you in Reggie’s room.” 

“Who’s Reggie?”

“My baby brother,” he sighed, voice taking on a sad note.

She didn’t ask. 

The rest of the walk to the room was spent in silence, Sirius opening his mouth to speak every few seconds but seemingly not knowing what to say. Hera didn’t care to say anything either. She knew it was unfair—it wasn’t his fault she was left alone all these years—but some part of her was still angry that he wasn’t there, that she had to survive on her own. So she remained quiet.

“Alright,” he sighed once they arrived, opening the door and letting her walk in. “This is it.”

Hera stepped into the large room, mouth gaping as she saw the size of it. Silver and emerald painted the room, and the moonlight emanated through the open window. “Bloody hell,” she whispered. 

“You like it?” Sirius’s voice rang from behind her. 

She turned around rapidly, forgetting completely that he was there. She looked at him for a moment as he leaned against the doorway. “It’s bloody big isn’t it?”

He barked out a laugh. “That it is.” It was silent for a moment as Hera took in the room, eyes looking around at the fancy environment. “Kreacher!” She heard him call and she was about to ask what he was doing when a loud popping sound rang in her ears and some sort of creature appeared in front of her. She jumped back.

“Nasty master called?” His voice was rough and grating to her ears and Hera stared, mouth agape before her voice shouted.

“What in the bloody fuck is that?” 

The thing turned to her eyes glowing with hatred. “Ignorant half breeds,” he muttered and Hera’s eyes narrowed.

“This is Kreacher,” Sirius cut in, eyes glaring at the creature. “He is a house elf.” Like that explained anything. “Kreacher. You will obey Hera and give her anything she needs.”

“Yes, master. Kreacher will serve the filthy half-breed,” he grumbled before turning to glare at the girl.

“Right okay. This is normal here I guess,” she muttered, putting her hands out to steady herself.

“You’re dismissed, Kreacher,” Sirius said, voice hard. Kreacher grumbled something under his breath before disappearing with a pop.

Hera stared at the spot he was just in before blinking and shaking her head with a shaky laugh. What was her life? 

“So, just call him if you need anything. And Hermione is next door if you want something to sleep in,” he said, eyes looking at her clothing. She tugged on it, pulling it down to cover her stomach.

“Right, thanks.”

“Goodnight, Hera. I’m glad you’re safe.” His voice was soft and his eyes even softer as he looked at her.

She nodded at him with a tight smile. He lingered in the doorway for a moment before leaving with a sad smile.

She sighed as the door closed behind him, hand going to her face, rubbing her hand along her skin. What had she gotten herself into?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Hera stared at the ceiling, fingers fiddling with Hermione’s pale pink nightgown that was way too long for her. She laid on the plush bed fit for a king, smelling the floral detergent they must use to clean the sheets. Her hands fell to her face and a sigh whooshed from her lips. The moonlight cast shadows upon the ceiling from the open window as the breeze kissed her skin. A hysterical laugh bubbled from her throat at the softness of the bed. It had only taken her becoming the key to some war to be awarded something for her comfort. A war she cared very little for. She didn’t want to be this beacon of hope they seemed to look to her as, she just wanted this man–Voldemort–dead.

Snores echoed through the halls and Hera found herself tensing at the sound. She was used to squatting in abandoned buildings, hiding out and listening for any sound to be able to protect herself, that any noise had her ready to fight. 

She rolled, her head turning toward the window to watch the moonlight paint the sky. Her hand punched the pillow beneath her head. It was too soft. It was ridiculous, unable to fall asleep because it was too comfortable, but she was unused to the plushness of the bed.

So, she sat up with a groan and shuffled onto the floor, her feet padding softly through the quiet room as she made her way to the door. She walked softly through the house, the stairs creaking under her feet. Pausing on the staircase, her eyes found paintings draped over with cloth. Her brows furrowed as she stared and she reached a hand out, her curiosity at what lay behind overcoming her.

“I wouldn’t,” a voice sounded from behind her.

She gasped, whirling around and coming face-to-face with a shadowed Theo. “Fuck,” she sighed. “You’re really going for creepy today, huh?”

He merely raised a brow, his lips quirking slightly. “That right?”

She grinned crookedly with a shrug. “I mean, first the kidnapping, then the creeping around in the dark. Creepy if you ask me.”

“Abduction,” he corrected, his lips quirking again. “And, might I add that you are also, as you put it, ‘creeping around in the dark’.”

Hera raised her chin. “I’ll have you know, I was going to get some water.”

“Couldn’t have called the house elf?” He tilted his head.

“Perhaps, but I think he might want me dead.”

He chuckled huskily. “Sounds like him.”

“Anyway, why are you wandering around? Couldn’t you have called him?” She jutted her chin out challengingly, which only proved to make him smirk. 

“My watch. Make sure you don’t run.” He looked Hera up and down. “Are you planning on it?”

“Now if I were, would I tell you that?” She grinned.

He grunted in reply, eyes rolling at the girl in front of him on the staircase. “Kreacher!” He eventually called and a pop echoed through the silent hall. Hera jumped beside herself. “Get the lady some water,” he ordered before the elf could speak.

Kreacher grumbled under his breath before popping away and reappearing moments later, a fancy glass in hand. “The filthy half-blood’s water.” He offered.

She grabbed the offered glass, eyeing it warily before turning to Theo and asking, “Think he poisoned it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Go to bed.” His arm went to her back, ushering her back up the stairs and she shoved him away with her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat.

He relented, his arm pulling back and hands going up. “Apologies,” he said sincerely and her face softened minutely. “It will not happen again.”

“Right,” she nodded. “Goodnight.”

Her footsteps took her away from the man and she kept her head straight, not allowing herself to look back.