Disclaimer: I own no part of the Harry Potter universe. Everything is owned by JK Rowling.

Chapter 1 – Secrets of Horcruxes

Everyone knew that Hermione Granger loved school. She was always the first to answer a question; the first to turn in her exceptionally long, ultra-detailed homework (usually three times the size of her classmates); the last to turn in her exam papers because she didn't want to miss writing a little bit extra to fully answer a question. In fact, she had maintained her status at the top of her year despite the hot contest to unseat her from this vaunted position by determined Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws (her Gryffindor peers had long ago resigned themselves to knowing that she was indeed likely to top any class and instead settled for competing fiercely for the second spot. The other houses disliked this view).

Yet even these understanding peers would have trouble comprehending just why Hermione Granger, witch extraordinaire of the Golden Trio, would be pacing around distractedly in a narrow hallway in front of a blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor – that too on the day that school broke for the summer holidays.

They would probably agree that it was too much even for her. Even barking, as one puzzled student not in the know put it to his equally puzzled friend.

It all began a few days ago with the entirely unforeseen death of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts at the hands of the dreaded Head of Slytherin house, Severus Snape. In his last hours, Dumbledore had traveled with one of Hermione's best friends, Harry Potter, to an undisclosed location to retrieve one of the horcruxes made by the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, enemy to muggles and muggleborns everywhere. Horcruxes were decidedly evil by their very existence, given that they were shreds of someone's soul, ripped apart during an act of murder. In their sixth year, Albus Dumbledore, the bête-noire of Lord Voldemort, had confided in Harry that the Dark Lord had not confined himself to just one horcrux – bad enough by itself – but had instead gone for the magically powerful number of seven.

It was apparent, from Harry's information, that Voldemort had come across his knowledge of horcruxes in the Hogwarts library, but much to Hermione's frustration, she could not find even a smidgen of knowledge on the subject in the same place. After much thought, she decided that Dumbledore had probably removed these books from other Dark Lord wannabes who might come to Hogwarts. Hermione sent up a silent prayer of both gratitude (at least no-one else had the knowledge) and frustration (how was she supposed to find out more when the books weren't there?)

The books soared through the open window of the girls' dormitory and plopped on her bed with audible thuds.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Well, that had been easy. If she'd only known how easy it was to find these books, she wouldn't have wasted so much time.

In the days that had passed since Dumbledore's death, Hermione had scoured every inch of the library, including the restricted section (Professor McGonagall hadn't even needed much convincing), looking for books that would tell her about horcruxes. It stood to reason that she would be the one to look for them. Despite Harry's declaration that he would look for Voldemort's multiple horcruxes, he clearly had no knowledge about them apart from what Dumbledore had seen fit to share – which was pitifully little.

It was therefore up to Hermione to research.

It hardly needed to be said that she would also have to plan for their journey. Harry and Ron, being typical teenage boys, were hardly likely to think of the logistics of hunting for horcruxes up and down the length of their country.

She could only pray that there was no international travel involved. But she made a note to check on that just in case.

She had accordingly started making The List. At the very top of The List was the item: Find out about Horcruxes, under which she had bulleted the following:

Find books about Horcruxes

How to destroy Horcruxes

Where to find them – likely places

Horcrux objects: Gaunt ring, Nagini, Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, Riddle's Diary, unknown founder's object. Find unknown founder's object

Judging by Harry's rendition of the events in Slughorn's memory, the young Tom Riddle had already known about the horrifying creations before he had approached the professor. It was highly unlikely that there were books about horcruxes lying around in a muggle orphanage. Therefore, those books had to be at Hogwarts – hidden away by Dumbledore so that other enterprising, power-hungry students wouldn't stumble across them.

Really, Hermione felt quite annoyed with herself for not thinking of this option earlier. And so, in a clear voice, standing by her bed in the dormitory (after making sure that the room was empty), she had tried a summoning spell on the aforementioned books.

She mentally patted herself on the back, and ticked off the appropriate mark on The List as she grimly perused the books lying on her bed: Secrets of the Darkest Art, Forgotten Realms of Dark Magic, and two other books.

Hermione took a quick look at her watch. She originally meant to read the books at home. She picked up one and winced at its weight. She would have to find a way to carry all of them, that too with her existing books. She wasn't sure there was enough room in her trunk. But suddenly, she thought: what if there was something here at Hogwarts that could later help them in their quest? She grimaced. There was hardly any time left before they had to board the train.

Hardly any time…

There were no time turners left in the Ministry of Magic … but here at Hogwarts, there was the Room of Requirement.

Hermione grabbed the books and shoved them in her satchel, and flew down the stairs and out the portrait.

Wheezing and panting, she arrived at the seventh floor corridor (mentally adding another item to The List that said: get fit before potentially perilous quest to destroy evil villain's soul pieces) and thought desperately: I need a place where I can read these books and still make the Hogwarts Express.

After three turns a door appeared, and she raced in.

There was a comfortable armchair in the middle of the room, and surrounding the room were clocks.

Hermione sat down and dumped the books out of the bag. The clocks started ticking. She looked up, startled, and eyed the clocks. Deciding to examine them later, she took the books out her satchel and picked up Secrets of the Darkest Art first. After all, killing someone and using that to make you immortal had to be the darkest of arts. She then brought out her notebook and her favorite quill to take notes and opened the black leather cover. The first page had her fighting the urge to retch. It looked as though someone had shed blood on the pages.

Beside her, a pair of gloves appeared in response to her thoughts, and she put them on gratefully, thanking the room. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then looked at the book again, doing her best to control the queasiness inside her stomach at the sight of some of the illustrations. She had thought that Moste Potente Potions - the book she and the others had used to look up Polyjuice Potion in second year – had been bad, but each of these illustrations seemed to emanate darkness. She did her best to ignore the frightened beating of her heart as she searched frantically. Horcruxes…horcruxes…. She paged through the volume desperately, and there it was – in black and gold script lettering.

Hermione started reading through the finely scripted words, her pen jotting down notes. Her sharp mind was forcing her to look at the horrifying things written down clinically. Later, she would recall those moments in horror, but in that moment, she was focused only on what she was doing, and how it would help them later.

Horcruxes were objects used to split the soul. Wisteric the Fool (Hermione snorted at the name) had invented them after his whole family had murdered by the evil Folgerets that had declared a blood feud. His family had discussed ways to keep themselves alive, and they had searched other cultures myths and folklore and stumbled upon horcruxes. After the murders, Wisteric had vowed to avenge his family and murder the Folgerets who had done the deed. But he feared being killed himself and being unable to complete the task. So he had researched ways to create the objects. He had killed Roger Folgeret, the weakest of them all, and proceeded to tear his soul apart in the process.

But beware, reader, of this most terrible tearing of the soul. For once ripped, the soul is forever scarred, and thy humanity will be but a shred. The remainder of the soul in the flesh is rendered unstable by this tearing asunder. The soul will feel only fear, the fear of unspeakable wrath descending, of endless darkness. The tearing asunder of something pure will come with a curse that cannot be undone other than through remorse. The sorrow that is born from this heinous act cannot be undone. Should you wish to bring together these torn parts of your soul together, the pain is beyond belief, beyond imagining, beyond the realms of any pain curse – only True Remorse, a true understanding of the pain you have caused and must atone for will give you even a chance to bring your soul together again.

Hermione paused to roll her eyes and let out a quick snort. True remorse – if only Voldemort would be remorseful and make it easy for them. She let out an almost hysterical giggle at the mental image. She let out a deep sigh and glanced at her notes. The book did not detail whether Wisteric had been successful in his attempts to put his soul together again. After all, he had murdered an entire clan in his bloodlust. So far she had found almost no information on how to destroy the horcruxes. She looked at her watch, but as promised, the room had slowed down time so much so that it looked as though only a few minutes had passed.

She plunged back into the material, looking for anything that might give her a clue as to something that might destroy the horcruxes. Finally, she found it.

"The dreaded monsters found within the demonic heat of fiendfyre…" she read aloud, "and the venom of the poison that resides in the deadly fangs of the basilisk are the only known substances that can destroy the nature of the horcrux itself. The horcrux must not be able to mend itself, and the solution is final – the basilisk."

Hermione thought hard. In the depths of Hogwarts, lay the remains of the basilisk killed by the twelve-year-old Harry Potter. Surely, the great fangs would still be there, holding the venom that they so desperately needed.

As if by magic, a doorway opened in the wall of the Room of Requirement. Hermione looked at it in surprise. Surely that wasn't an entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Was it really that easy?

But even as she moved towards the door, Hermione stopped herself. This part she could not do on her own. To start with, she didn't know if there might be something else down there. How would she get back? No one knew where she was. She needed Harry and Ron for this.

In addition, they couldn't traipse around the country carrying around basilisk fangs. It simply wasn't practical, not to mention, they could poison themselves by accident.

There had to be another way.

Hermione thought hard again. In her mind she pictured the basilisk, its fangs dripping with – venom. That's it, she realized, sitting up with a start, her eyes gleaming. The fangs weren't important – it was the venom in them that had destroyed the book. What if she got Harry to take them down to the Chamber of Secrets? Then then could extract the venom of the basilisk into vials. If she put an unbreakable charm on the vials, they could take the vials with them on their journey.

That was a good plan, Hermione decided. She noted it down and then looked at the time again in one of the clocks. There were several of them: one showed the actual time outside the Room of Requirement – it had been only a few minutes. There was another clock that showed the time that she had been here. It had started ticking when she had opened the book. She had been here for six hours already.

Once again, Hermione marveled at the wonder that was magic. How was it possible, she asked herself repeatedly? It was her greatest wish that she research the mystery of magic itself. How did it originate? Where did it come from? How had it been spread? There was so much to learn, and it was so fascinating.

There was yet another clock that had appeared shortly thereafter: it was a clock similar to Mrs. Weasley's but it had different hands and sayings. It seemed to be for Hogwarts for it showed the four houses of Hogwarts, the kitchens, the Headmaster's Office, the lawn, the Forbidden Forest, the black lake, the beech tree under which the three of them normally sat, and the classrooms for Charms, Defence Against The Dark Arts and Transfiguration. On it she could see her name as well as Harry's and Ron's. Professor McGonagall was there as was Flitwick. It was customized for her, she realized, and smiled. It would make it easier to find the boys, at least.

She looked around impatiently. She didn't want to leave the room of requirement to contact the boys – she would waste valuable time. She didn't even know if this room would come back. Somehow she forced herself to go back to her notes, and read the section in the book again, just to make sure she had not missed something important.

To destroy a horcrux is no simple task. Indeed, one could say it was almost impossible to do so given the nature of this entity. A horcrux is no mere thing. It is the manifestation of your soul outside of your form. In this form it can sense those around it – those who mean it harm, those whom it can use to further its wishes. It is not to be said that the horcrux cannot come to life when the maker's physical form is still present. A horcrux possesses the power to harness the magic of those who come near it – draining their magic and their life to sustain itself.

That's what happened to Ginny, thought Hermione tiredly. What a blessing that Harry had killed Riddle in enough time to prevent the latter from regaining power. Of course, it was wonderful that he had been able to save Ginny at all given that he himself was only twelve years old at the time. But still, they had never realized what the diary itself was. Had Harry not saved them all, they would very likely be facing both the young Riddle as well as Lord Voldemort. The thought itself was horrifying.

It was thanks to Harry that they did not have to face that prospect. Again, Hermione marveled at the young boy who had become her friend. Again and again he had faced perils that had defeated older people but he alone had triumphed. Was it the nature of the prophecy? Or was it just Harry's nature? She had helped provide the information, of course, but in the end, it was Harry who had had the courage to face something so evil and come out on top.

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set the Gryffindors apart, she thought. That was what the Sorting Hat always sang about the Gryffindors. That was why Harry had been able to draw the Sword of Gryffindor from the hat. That was why he had been able to defeat the basilisk. Wait a minute – hadn't Harry said that he had stabbed the basilisk in its mouth. That could be interesting… hadn't she read something…. Oh where had she read it… what had she even read? She cursed out loud.

Wait, Hermione told herself forcefully, just wait a minute. Why was that important? It was unlikely that the sword contained any powers unless…. What did she know about the Sword of Gryffindor? It had been made for Godric Gryffindor by… she huffed impatiently. She knew almost nothing of the sword other than that it appeared in times of need.

A shimmering scroll appeared in front of her. Hermione stared at it, stunned, and then glanced around the room almost as if she were afraid. What are you? She asked it silently. Are you the heart of Hogwarts? How can you be so clever, so magical? She shook her head as though to clear it of these thoughts. They weren't very productive, after all.

She picked up the scroll. It stopped shimmering as soon as she touched it. It was some sort of contract as she unrolled the parchment, her eyes skimming over it. There was a detailed illustration of the sword in it, right down to the inscription, Godric Gryffindor. Her heart stopped as she reached the bottom. There, at the bottom, were two signatures: Ragnuk the First and Godric Gryffindor. It was a contract for the sale of the sword, she realized.

She began reading the tiny scripted words, her quill flying across the parchment with her notes. The sword had belonged to Ragnuk the First during the first goblin rebellion against wizard rule. The then young goblin leader had foolishly tried to placate the wizards by appearing in front of them to speak with them and convince them that the goblins were not hostile towards them per se but merely wanted to be recognized as a nation with equal rights. The talks had been a dismal failure and had ended by taking Ragnuk prisoner.

He had been rescued not by the goblins but by the four founders who had protested the attack against the goblins. Their influence had not been sufficient to convince the Wizengamot, but undeterred they had made plans. Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the most politically influential founders, had been charged with staging an enormous celebration for the capture of Ragnuk, and even Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had attended. In the middle of the party, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff stole away to the prison (Azkaban hadn't yet been built, Hermione noted). The two founders had broken out the imprisoned goblin leader and led him secretly to Gringotts, there to be reunited with his fellows.

They had run into trouble along the way. A group of wizards had followed the two founders and realized what they were up to and attacked the small group. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had defended the unarmed goblin, and it was Gryffindor who had dived in front of one of the worst curses that had put him out. But they had defeated the wizards, and Hufflepuff hurriedly led the goblin on after hiding Gryffindor in a secure spot.

In gratitude, Ragnuk had commissioned a goblin-made object for each of the founders (and here Hermione's eyes opened wide). He had presented to Rowena Ravenclaw a delicate diadem to celebrate her beauty and wit; to Salazar Slytherin, a beautiful locket with a miniature of Slytherin's wife, who had been killed by Muggle villagers ("I knew there had to be a reason for his anti-muggle sentiments!" Hermione said jubilantly); to Helga Hufflepuff a beautiful tea set, knowing the kindly founder's liking for conversation with her students; and finally to Godric Gryffindor, his own sword for bravery.

Hermione continued reading, as though in a dream. Each of the items was a goblin-made treasure, she read. They could not be destroyed by any mortal means or magic. Each item had the ability to imbibe magic that could make it stronger.

Knowing the goblins dislike of treasures passing beyond their holdings, Ragnuk had taken the additional step of willing these items in perpetuity to the founders and their heir, Hogwarts. It was Hogwarts and therefore the students who would be allowed to use these treasures, who would draw upon them in times of need. Ragnuk and his council had given permission.

Hermione sat back in disbelief. Could it be that simple? Harry had already drawn the sword and if the scroll were to be believed, the sword would have imbibed the basilisk venom. So all that was needed was to - where was the sword anyway? If it was back inside the Sorting Hat, she had to go back to the vials of venom idea.

It was time to contact the boys, she decided. She had done as much as she could have at this point in time. Rather than going to them, she'd find a way to bring them here. She looked at the clock. They were in the Gryffindor common room. Perfect. She'd fire-call them.

A fireplace with a roaring fire immediately appeared on one corner of the room. She crossed over and picked up the square box with floo powder that had appeared along with the fireplace.

She threw the powder into the fireplace, and the crimson flames turned bright green. Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and thrust her head into the dancing green flames. "GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM!"

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Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoy this new story. It's been in my head for a long time, and it explores the idea that as well-prepared as Hermione was for their hunt for horcruxes in the seventh book, what would have happened if a) she started her preparations earlier and b) if she got Ron and Harry involved.

Please R&R! Reviews are greatly appreciated!