Chapter Four

Ron didn't know why he was nervous; it wasn't as if he hadn't met the people in the room or spoken to them before. It was just Hermione, Kingsley, and Percy.

"And then Hermione realized that private libraries were never checked for books containing information on horcruxes," he explained to Kingsley as Percy took notes.

"And you believe that the girl learnt how to make one through a book from a private collection?" Kingsley asked. "How would she get access to something like that?"

"With help," Hermione answered a little too loudly for the small meeting room they were in. "We think someone is spreading the information."

Kingsley nodded gravely and was quiet for a moment, only the scratching of Percy's pen could be heard. Ron thought that Kingsley didn't look happy, but the man hardly ever did.

"So this means that you've completely ruled out the possibility of this being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doings?" Kingsley asked.

For the first time since the meeting started Percy looked up, his eyes locking with Ron's for a second before Ron focused in Kingsley.

"No." He hated having to say that, but until all the evidence was laid out and confirmed, they'd have to be careful. "But we are almost certain that the horcruxes aren't his. Hermione and Padma Patil are working on finding the identity of the other two that we have."

Ron wished Harry was there, because he got the feeling that Kingsley would be more sure about this whole situation if Harry would confirm that he didn't believe Voldemort was behind it. But Harry had already missed a lot of work and needed to train his second in command to keep going while he was, once again, hunting horcruxes. Likewise, Ginny was out looking for a replacement that could cover for her while she was gone.

Hermione nodded confidently. "I'm going down the labs as soon as we finish the meeting because Padma is near a breakthrough."

"And what would be the next step following this lead about the libraries?" Kingsley shook his head. "If someone already knows the process of making horcruxes, what's to stop them even if we find the book they learnt it from?"

Hermione jumped to the edge of her seat and Ron had a flashback of her at Hogwarts, eager to answer a teacher's question. "The person would need to have the book or at least a copy. The process is very intricate and complex; memorizing it would be virtually impossible."

"Anyone with a book that even mentions horcruxes is a suspect under these circumstances," Ron explained. "We need permission to search these private libraries."

"What?" it was Percy who spoke, frowning behind his square spectacles. "Sir, that would be political suicide."

Ron sighed. Hermione had already mentioned that they wouldn't like the idea, but he had been hoping that she was wrong. What a fool.

"I'm aware," Kingsley said. "Acceptance is already low without the government actively meddling in people's private business, let alone actually inspect their houses and confiscate possibly priceless items."

"Unless…" Percy said thoughtfully. "If we do a press release and tell the media why we're doing it, the fear of You-Know-Who will certainly make people more comfortable with the invasion of their privacy."

"We can't tell people what's going on. It would alert whoever's doing it that we're onto them." Ron would not let government propaganda ruin this investigation.

"And we can't just use Voldemort's name to make people less angry, especially when it might not even be him," Hermione added. "No matter how convenient it is."

Kingsley rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, I understand how important this is, but I can't risk more bad press when there's already people protesting Muggle technology and new schools and such. The Society for Traditional Magic Preservation have protested twice this week and they have my office stuffed with their letters. If they find out we're targeting old pureblood families specifically they'll have my head."

Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to argue a perfectly valid point, but Ron put his hand on her arm to stop her. He knew a lost cause when he saw one.

"Alright let's do this," Kingsley said clapping his hands together. "Ask the families if they'd consent to a search. If it's voluntary we won't get in any trouble and if you find anything suspicious then we'll deal with that later."

"We already have," Ron told him. He and Hermione had stayed up late writing letters to every pureblood family in Britain. When Hermione had told him that Kingsley wouldn't like the plan, Ron wanted to be prepared for anything. "But that's the problem; the ones who won't consent are the ones who have something to hide."

"And so far someone's already said no and two others won't answer," Hermione added.

Kingsley got to his feet. "Then go directly to the houses and attempt to convince them. If you see any strange behavior then at least we'll have a reason to do a search order. It's all we can do for now."

Hermione visibly deflated and Ron patted her hand.

"I'm sorry Granger, Weasley," Kingsley said looking at both of them. "Please be in touch as soon as possible."

Kingsley strode away and Percy stood up.

"I'm sure he'll change his mind if you find something suspicious," Percy told them, looking apologetic. "Besides, who's going to say no to you two, Ginny, and Harry?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other briefly.

"Zabini, Parkinson," Ron grimaced. "And Malfoy."

.

It didn't need to be said that Hermione was in a terrible mood. She was tired, frustrated, and she still needed to deal with a stubborn piece of soul of some idiotic witch of wizard with delusions of grandeur.

"Padma texted me like five times during the meeting, I think she's found something important," Hermione told Ron as they walked into the lift. "Hey, do you want to come? Might be interesting."

Ron shook his head and yawned. "Thanks but I think I'll go and take a nap before things get crazy again."

The lift stopped on the ground floor. "Alright, call me if there's anything new." Hermione got in her tiptoes and kissed Ron's cheek.

"You too," Ron said with a sleepy smile and walked out.

The doors closed again and Hermione continued her long journey to the Ministry labs, well hidden underground and behind countless security spells, doors, and obstacles. At least those were the Unspeakable labs she had been using.

When she finally got through the last wand checkpoint and whispered the password to the giant metallic skull guarding the door, she entered the lab and Padma jumped in front of her almost immediately.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked as her hands wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, gripping her rather hard.

Hermione's eyes widened and her stomach dropped in fear. "I was in a meeting with Kingsley. What happened?"

Padma let go of her and walked over to the table where the two horcruxes were sitting, along with a mess of papers and books. "Sorry I'm so freaked out it's just… I was reading through some of your notes on the other horcruxes and you say that the diary communicated with Ginny and Harry, right?"

Hermione nodded and walked up next to Padma.

"Well, if we could somehow communicate with one of these then perhaps we could learn who they are without having to open them and risk accidentally killing them." She stopped and cringed. "Or purposely because they might try to harm us."

Hermione couldn't help but smile despite Padma's uneasy behavior. "That's a brilliant idea! Could you figure out how to communicate?"

Padma nodded grimly and Hermione stopped smiling. "I assumed that writing isn't the way all horcruxes communicate because a cup or a diadem or a music box couldn't do it."

"Each horcrux must have its unique way," Hermione concluded. "Did you try writing with the pen?"

Padma shook her head softly as she put her hands around the music box and dragged it closer to her. "No. I started with this one."

Hermione frowned. Her first instinct would have been to use the pen, since they already knew a horcrux that could 'write'. But the music box?

Padma took a deep breath. "Listen carefully."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione's stomach dropped to her feet and her heart started racing. Padma took the small knob on the back of the box and turned it to the left five times, until they heard the mechanism click. Hermione leaned in closer despite everything in her body telling her to back away.

A soft melodic tune started coming from the small box, sweet and slightly metallic like all the other music boxes Hermione had heard. She wasn't sure what she was expecting exactly, but this wasn't it. She turned to look at Padma, whose face was twisted with disturbance as she listened carefully.

And then Hermione heard it.

It could have almost been part of the song if she hadn't been paying this much attention, but now that she understood what it was, it couldn't be unheard. A small wispy voice was also coming from the box, almost overpowered by the tune, but the words were unequivocal.

"I made a mistake. I made a mistake. I made a mistake." Over and over again.

Hermione straightened up. The song ended, it wasn't very long, and when she looked up from the box Padma was already staring at her.

"It's the creepiest thing that I've ever witnessed," Padma declared.

Hermione had had her fair share of creepy experiences, but this was definitely on the top five. "Can they…" her throat felt suddenly dry. "Can they hear us?"

Padma shrugged a little. "I don't know. When I first heard it I was too shocked to say anything and then I wanted to reach you before doing it again." She cleared her throat and set her shoulders back, looking like she was forcing herself to push past her discomfort. "But that's the first thing we need to try now."

Hermione gathered her papers and pen to take notes, as well as keeping her wand close just in case.

"Alright. Do it again."

Padma wound the music box again five times. This time when the music started Hermione was able to hear the words immediately. She thought it could have been a male voice, but she wasn't sure.

"Hello," Padma spoke to the box, loud and clear. "Can you hear me?"

Hermione wrote down what Padma was doing, and then as if on cue, the voice stopped. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she and Padma shared equally surprised and scared looks. The music was still playing.

"Hello?" the voice came again, a little louder than before.

"Hello, can you hear me?" Padma repeated. Hermione was writing furiously.

"Yes, yes!" the voice said excitedly, much more clear than before.

Padma was about to answer back when the song ended. She and Hermione both released their breaths before Padma wound up the mechanism again.

Along with the music, there were frenetic calls of "Hello? Hello?"

"I'm here," Padma said, her voice shaking slightly. "I can hear you."

"Yes, thank you, thank you," the voice said sounding both relieved and frightened. "I need help, I've made a terrible mistake."

Hermione felt a heavy rush of pity, but she tried to ignore it and be critical about this; for all they knew this could be a trick.

"What's your name?" Padma asked and then she started turning the mechanism again, making the song start over before it ended.

"Brice Langley," the voice said and Hermione pulled the report papers closer to her so she could confirm the name. It was indeed the same name as the one they identified with the mangled body of the first horcrux. She nodded to let Padma know that it matched.

"Well Brice, I'm an Unspeakable and work for the Ministry. " Padma leaned in closer. "I will try to help you, but I need all the details of what happened."

There was a small silence in which only the music could be heard and then what sounded like a shaky breath. "I thought I knew how to do it. I read the explanation about a hundred times. I almost memorized the incantation. But… but I still messed it up. I don't know what exactly, I think I didn't sacrifice enough butterflies or maybe flicked my wand in the wrong direction."

"B-butterflies?" Padma asked as she once again reset the song.

"They were the most innocent animals I could think of," Brice said, almost ashamed.

Hermione gulped. She remembered that section of the process quite vividly.

Padma nodded. "Do you remember what happened after you performed the spell?"

"Pain," Brice said simply, followed by a sob. "Unbelievable pain. And then I thought I must have done it right because I could feel something leaving my body." Brice's voice was breaking up and Hermione felt a knot in her throat too. She could tell Padma was very uncomfortable as well. "The next thing I knew, I was out. I was watching my body from the outside as it crumbled to the floor, bleeding. I tried to come back, to put myself back in or something but… I couldn't. I was being pulled by this immense force and the next second it all went black."

Padma straightened up and looked at Hermione with utmost horror. The song ended and this time she let it. Hermione felt somehow glad, because even though she was pretty sure Brice already knew this, it didn't feel right to let him hear it.

"Does this mean that-" Padma started and Hermione started nodding before she could finish as she bit her tongue inside her mouth.

"Yes." Hermione had no idea how this could ever turn out alright. "His entire soul is in there."

.

A part of Ginny felt oddly attached to 12 Grimmauld Place. After all she had spent some time there as a teenager when the second war was beginning, and then she moved in with Harry as soon as she was out of Hogwarts. That didn't last long, though, but she still felt nostalgic every time she returned.

The place had unofficially become their headquarters during this investigation, mostly because it was vastly more comfortable than the Ministry and they could talk without being overheard. They were all sitting quietly in the living room after their respective long days, and after Hermione had just told them about the nightmare-ish horcrux discovery.

"Is there a way to help him?" Harry asked ,his voice low. Ginny suddenly realized that he was sitting in an armchair where they once had sex, and a very vivid flashback passed through her mind before she shook her head, trying to get rid of it. This was hardly the time or place.

"I have been thinking about it ever since we realized what had happened but…" Hermione trailed off, looking horrified. "His body is basically destroyed. He didn't split his soul as much as he ripped it out. That's why there's a hole in his chest, and that's probably what happened to the other girl."

Ginny shuddered. She couldn't believe someone would be so stupid to even attempt such a thing. "So what else did you find out? Did you ask him how or why he did it?"

Hermione nodded as she finally leaned back in the sofa and seemed to be forcing herself to relax. "He said he was in the Dark Arts section of Diagon's public library, browsing and getting his curiosity get the best of him, when someone approached him. It was a man who seemed to have a lot of knowledge in the dark arts, and claimed to be disgusted with the censorship that the current government was imposing on the schools and public centers and he told Brice that if he wanted to really learn about the true dark arts, then he'd be in touch."

Ron dragged a hand down his face. "For fuck's sake. This is why mothers tell children not to talk to strangers."

"Brice said the man started owling him daily, telling him all sorts of stories about conspiracies and cover-ups that the government is doing to keep the new generations from knowing about Voldemort and all he was 'capable' of'," Hermione continued. "Eventually he mentioned horcruxes and apparently made them sound as if they were this amazing feat that could strengthen your magic and the government doesn't want anyone to know because everyone could become too powerful. The man also claims that several people in high Ministry ranks have horcruxes themselves, including Kingsley." Hermione sighed. "In the end he sent Brice copies of the pages on how to make the horcrux, which were charmed to self-destruct once the act was done."

"How thick could you get?" Ginny scoffed incredulously. "It's not as if all of this happened hundreds of years ago, basically everyone who witnessed the Battle of Hogwarts is still alive today!" Ginny stopped, realizing what she had said and feeling something heavy and angry setting inside her. "Except the ones who literally gave their lives to the cause. It's unforgivable that there are people who would just...disregard the sacrifice that they made." Ginny bit her lip and dug her fingernails into her palms as she tried hard not to let the tears fall, because if she started thinking about Fred too much, she wouldn't be able to stop.

Hermione and Ron were on either side of Ginny on the sofa, and as if on cue both took her hands in theirs and held tightly. Harry looked at her with both pain and anger and right then Ginny knew that he would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of this.

Just like her.

"We won't let them get away with this, Gin." Hermione managed a sad smile. "We're closer than ever now."

Ginny nodded gratefully to both Hermione and her brother and they let go of her. She dried out her eyes with her sleeve.

"So who's the bastard?" Ron asked, his voice definitely more strained than usual. "Did he give you a name or appearance? Though both would probably be altered."

"The man told Brice to refer to him as 'T', but Brice has no idea what that stands for. He also said that the man did seem to be trying to hide his looks the one time he saw him and that he suspected some kind of disguise charm," Hermione then ruffled through her purse that was sitting on the floor at her feet and pulled out a thick roll of parchment. "I have the entire description written out so you can give it to someone in the Auror department to do a sketch for us." She handed Ron the parchment.

"What did he look like?" Harry asked, his voice neutral and empty and his face hardened with what Ginny recognized as determination.

Hermione seemed apprehensive for a second and now Ginny was really curious. "Tall, thin, pale. Wavy brown hair and dark eyes, Sort of average but also 'fancy looking' in Brice's words."

Ron and Harry leaned forward at the same time, but it was Ginny who spoke. "Nott? No way. If that filthy little snake lied to us-"

"We don't know it's him," Hermione interrupted.

"She's right," Ron added. "Besides, this could all be a set up. Brice might be lying."

"We should still talk to Nott again," Harry said, still looking serious.

Ron nodded. "But there's something more important first. For some reason Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson don't want us to search their houses and Kingsley isn't giving us permission to do it until we talk to them. I think finding out what they're hiding should be priority number one."

"If Nott is somehow involved, and he didn't mind us searching his house, maybe that's because he has the evidence somewhere else," Ginny said, all the while going over the events at Nott mansion in her head. "And who better to help him than his old Slytherin mates?"

"Right," Ron agreed. "Now, I think Malfoy's most suspicious for outright refusing instead of ignoring us like Zabini and Parkinson, and I think we all agree he's the biggest git of them all."

There were nods all around. Ginny actually couldn't remember much about the other two, other than knowing they were both pompous idiots and that Parkinson was an ugly cow.

"We shouldn't waste any more time if we already know we won't be able to convince them of letting us in their houses." Harry removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "If we split we can talk to them tomorrow morning, it'll take us less than an hour, and then we come to Kingsley and get the permission forms."

"I'm just telling you now that Kingsley is still going to put up a fight," Hermione said with a shrug.

"We'll have to deal with him. For now, let's say two people go to Malfoy Manor tomorrow, just in case."

Ron had barely said the words when Harry had already moved to the edge of his seat. "I'll go."

It had been a while since Ginny saw Harry so ready to fight. Ever since the war ended he'd been nothing but peace a quiet.

"You go with him, Hermione." Ron nudged Hermione on the arm. "Make sure he doesn't murder Malfoy without any proof."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why do I have to be everybody's self control? What if I murder Malfoy?"

Even Harry laughed at that.

"I'll take Zabini. His perfume company has sponsored many Ministry events, so I find it very strange that he suddenly doesn't answer to official ministry related business." Ron pulled out his wallet and then from it a small black card with shimmering golden letters. It smelled like sandalwood. "He even gave his personal business card to everyone at the last annual Auror's ball."

Ginny didn't remember the man, but just by seeing his pretentious business card she already hated him.

"He doesn't have any record of dark magic, though," Hermione commented.

"Neither does Nott," Ginny reminded her. "And yet there's already evidence against him."

"Ginny, do you think you can handle Parkinson?" Ron asked her.

Ginny laughed incredulously. "If she doesn't talk I'm going to-"

"You cannot torture her." Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Or hex, curse, poison, or even threaten her. Even if you're not a government official you're still acting in behalf of the Auror Department. Do you understand?"

Ginny groaned.

"I need to hear you say that you understand."

"Fine," Ginny said with a side glance. "I understand."

"Good. We'll go first thing in the morning." Ron got to his feet and yawned.

But he didn't say anything about punching the life out of Pansy's pug face.

.

Harry lay awake that night for what felt like hours, but in reality it was barely midnight. For some reason he simply couldn't sleep and the more he tried the harder it was getting. He turned his head to the left and saw Hermione curled up peacefully under the sheets, her hair falling messily over her face. The image alone was so comforting that it should have helped Harry fall asleep, but not even that was doing the trick.

He carefully got out of the bed, taking his wand and wordlessly levitating a pair of shoes and robes out of the room. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he knew he needed to do something instead of going over every single detail about the last few days trying to see if there was something he was missing and driving himself crazy.

He walked past Regulus' old room, where he heard Ron snoring, and then past Sirius' where he knew Ginny was also fast asleep, and then he went downstairs.

It was a Thursday night and the neighborhood was quite alive. There were groups of teenagers drinking on the steps leading up to the buildings, people walking their dogs, and even a Hen party that seemed to have gotten lost but were too drunk to care. Harry was glad because all of these distractions would surely take his mind off the case for a while, so he started walking down the busiest street. After a few blocks he saw that some of the buzz was due to the opening of a new pub. It was rather small and unassuming, and even though it was very packed, Harry decided to enter.

He found a lonely stool at the end of the bar and ordered a beer. He didn't feel like getting sloshed exactly, but maybe some alcohol would make him sleepy.

Harry often visited the pubs of the area, mostly an ancient one that served the best firewhiskey and was always frequented by grumpy old men. He had also gone a few times to one of the only gay pubs in Wizarding London but for some reason he still had trouble with being recognized there. This pub, though, was nothing like those. It didn't look like a pub at all, more like a coffee place that served cocktails. It was very simple and tastefully decorated but still… strange.

It took Harry awhile to realize that part of the reason why it felt so strange was because of the crowd. Every single one of the people inside the pub were very young. As in, barely legal. He knew pubs usually had age-sensitive spells in order not to sell to minors, but most of these kids looked like they had turned eighteen yesterday. He must have been the only person there who was over twenty five, even the bartender looked like a kid. Not that there was anything wrong with that, perhaps this pub was targeted for young adults or older teens or whatever, but he definitely found it odd.

Harry finished his first beer and ordered a second. People watching was always fun, and it usually took his mind off whatever issue he was having, but these particular people were so young that Harry was beginning to feel like a creepy old man just by being there. Besides, they were getting progressively drunker and bolder, with some of them snogging heavily on the corners of the place. Harry's eyes were drawn to the makeshift dance floor, which was really just the bigger space in between coffee tables. A couple was dancing, only it really wasn't a couple, because they were three. A bloke in between a girl, who he was kissing pretty heavily, and another bloke who was grinding slowly behind him.

Harry was so taken aback by this blatant display of unconventional love that for a moment he couldn't stop staring. He was pleasantly surprised that kids these days seemed to be more open towards different relationships, because you sure as hell couldn't do something like that in another pub that wasn't gay, at least not the ones he knew. And even then, he had never seen more than two people at it.

Harry shook his head and looked away, realizing that he either must look like a judgemental prick or a perverted loon, because he was the only one paying the three-way-couple any mind.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry almost fell down of his stool. A boy who really couldn't be older than nineteen had sat down next to him and was looking at Harry intently, almost daringly.

"Hi. Yes, I am." Harry pushed up his glasses had had slide down from the sudden movement. "And you are?" Harry smiled and offered the boy his hand.

The boy looked down at Harry's hand as if it was the most curious thing he'd ever seen. He then looked up at Harry's face again, his brown eyes inspecting Harry's scar.

"Andrew," he said as he shook Harry's hand.

Harry was no stranger to being recognized, but it usually didn't go like this. Granted, the boy had probably had quite a few drinks, but that didn't explain why he was looking at Harry with what almost looked like suspicion.

"You're probably wondering why an old man like me is sitting at this pub," Harry said with an awkward laugh.

Andrew didn't laugh. "How did you get your scar?"

Harry must have heard him wrong. He leaned in closer, thinking that the music wasn't really that loud. "Excuse me?"

"Your scar," Andrew repeated with a blank expression. "How did you get it?"

Harry blinked a few times, unsure of how to approach this. He had been asked that question before, but always by small children. "Did you go to Hogwarts, Andrew?"

Andrew nodded.

"Then you must have heard how I got my scar, right?" Harry wasn't trying to be condescending, but it was clear that Andrew wasn't playing dumb.

Harry thought he might have seen the boy blush slightly, but it was hard to tell from the light. "I just wanted to ask if it was true."

Harry smiled. "I'm afraid it is."

Andrew seemed to accept this answer, as he nodded once and then turned to finish off the last of his beer. The bartender handed Andrew his tab and the boy reached for his wallet before Harry stopped him.

"Let me," Harry told him and then he handed the bartender a few sickles to pay for his and Andrew's drinks.

Andrew smiled the tiniest bit. "Thank you."

Harry returned the smile and got to his feet. "Nice to meet you, Andrew. Be safe out there."

As he walked towards the exit, Harry noticed that a lot of people were staring at him. Word must have spread out that he was there, so he was glad that he had decided to leave right then, because the atmosphere of the place had gotten a bit tense, and he couldn't say that all the attention he was getting felt entirely positive.

When he arrived back to 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry felt a lot less anxious than before. It had been a strange couple of hours, but at least he now felt somewhat sleepy. He got into bed next to Hermione and closed his eyes, not thinking about the horcruxes, not thinking about Death Eaters, and definitely not thinking about Draco Malfoy.