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Thanks to all my reviewers, these two are for you!

Harry Potter and the Unholy Grails

St. George and the Dragon

Harry walked slowly back up the stairs to the living room. Each step was agony and it took all the will he had not to go running back out the door. He wanted to run, to chase Snape, to find Draco, but he couldn't. He had no idea where Snape would have gone.

By the time he plodded his way upstairs, Remus, Bill, Tonks and Mr. Weasley had been revived. Everyone looked at him as he walked in. For a moment nobody moved, and then Ron whispered, "He got away."

Harry nodded mutely, and Hermione came over to give him a hug. Over her shoulder Harry watched Mrs. Weasley and Fleur helping Bill up and Mafalda sobbing unrestrainedly into Ginny's new blue sweater. All of it seemed very far away. In his mind he was still running after Snape, apparating to wherever he had gone, saving Draco.

This feeling persisted for several days. Harry found himself sitting at the grimy windows in the room he and Draco shared and staring out of it with no real focus. He would wake in the morning and lie staring at the ceiling until Hermione came to drag him down to breakfast. On the rare occasions that he went for a walk around the house it's many occupants would send him worried looks. That only made Harry stay in his room even more often.

It wasn't until his fifth day of acting like this that somebody took action to snap him out of it. He was sitting in the library one morning, staring down at the chapter on Horcruxes in the book Hermione had given him without really seeing it. It was still so dark out that when Hermione marched up to him, Ron in tow, she was carrying a flashlight. Harry supposed she must have called his name several times, because suddenly she slammed one of the biggest books he had ever seen onto the desk, shone her light right into his eyes and hissed, "Harry!"

Harry raised his head, trying not to get annoyed. His temper was so close to the surface these last few days, "Uh huh?"

"Harry, honestly, snap out of it," Hermione scolded.

"Snap out of it?" Harry said. He was definitely annoyed now.

"Yes, snap out of it," Hermione chided, unapologetic. "You moping around and being angst-ridden isn't going to help Draco."

"Oh so you have a way to then?" He asked scathingly.

"Have you?" she retorted. "Has all your brooding led you to a brilliant conclusion?"

Harry hated to admit that Hermione had a point. He had been thinking about nothing else for five days, but he was still no closer to figuring out where Snape would be than when he had stood on the doorstep on Christmas. He glared at her silently.

"That's what I thought," she continued. Behind her Ron was giving Harry a vaguely apologetic look. Hermione wasn't done, "Well, you'll be happy to know that while you were sulking, Ron and I have been researching that memory."

Harry blinked at her, taking a few moments to remember what she was talking about. "Snape's memory?"

"Yes Harry, and I think we may have solved it."

"Solved it? You know where the Horcrux is?" Hary asked her, flabbergasted.

"Well, no," admitted Hermione, biting her lip. "We've done our bests to find everything we can, but there just something missing…"

Harry felt his anger ebb away; Hermione and Ron had been working all week while he had been useless. He felt he should hear them out. He sat back in his chair, "So, what do you know?"

Hermione smiled, knowing that Harry would listen now, and sat across from him. Ron followed suit. "Well," she began, " We were thinking about snakes, of course, because of the clue about Parseltongue. You remembered that I said that snakes represented immortality? This is what I meant."

She pushed a picture across the table at Harry. He picked it up and scanned it over. It showed a red dragon biting its tail. He looked up, puzzled, and said "But Hermione, this is a dragon, not a snake."

"Exactly, Harry," she smiled. "It's a dragon. I thought that the ouroboros-"

"That what?" Harry interrupted her.

"That symbol thing," Ron clarified helpfully.

"Yes, the ouroboros," Hermione continued. "I thought that it only applied to snakes, but I did some research," she waved vaguely at the gigantic book in font of her, "and found out that it originally was depicted as a dragon."

"I see," Harry said slowly, "So you think Voldemort is using dragons to guard this Horcrux?"

"Possibly," Hermione agreed, "but there's more to it than that. We think that he might have picked a site in Britain that was known for its connection to Dragons. Hiding his Horcrux in a place like that would probably really made Voldemort happy."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well, You-Know-Who loves immortality right? So he would pick a place that will forever be connected to dragons so that nobody would ever question why his connection to serpents," Ron replied.

"Exactly," Hermione enthused again, "so we figured he must have buried it somewhere relatively famous. Assuming he buried it in Britain, that left us with a few options. The ones we were seriously considering were Mole Hill, in Galloway, and Dragon Hill in Uffington."

"You'd think it would be obvious, wouldn't you?" Hary asked, smiling. "Mole Hill or Dragon Hill…"

"Both places have a strong history of Dragon mythology around them," Ron volunteered. "Mole Hill seemed like the more likely place at first, because it is actually not far from Hogwarts, but we," he said, indicating Hermione and himself, "thought, like you, that the Dragon part would have really drawn You-Known-Who."

"I had decided to research any Dragon-related stories I could find," Hermione said. "One of the first ones that came to my mind was an old Muggle story called "St. George and the Dragon" that I read when I was a kid. I asked my parents to bring me the picture book over Christmas, and then cross-referenced the events and found out that Dragon Hill is called that because it's supposed to be where St. George fought his famous battle."

"So where exactly is this Dragon Hill?" Hary asked curiously.

"It's right down the ridge from the Uffington Dragon," Ron answered, as if that told Harry anything.

Harry looked at him oddly, "Do you mean the Uffington Horse, Ron?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Horse. Muggles will do anything to deny magic."

"Harry," Hermione cut in, "The reason we think that it must be Dragon Hill where the next Horcrux is hidden is because it has the same mythology...mostly...in Muggle and Wizarding Britain. Both stories say that George slayed the Dragon on that spot to save a beautiful princess. Then the Muggle version goes on to say that everyone converted to Christianity and lived happily forever."

"The wizarding version is a little less stupid," Ron said dismissively. "According to that legend, George the Gritty managed to slay the Welsh Green that had been terrorizing the Muggle town nearby. The dragon's trainer, a really nasty witch, killed him for it. Sounds a lot like a murderous Hagrid, actually. Apparently she loved the dragon so much that she blasted its image into the ridge nearby, and now the Muggles call it a horse." He snorted.

"Anyway," Hermione said, trying to regain control, "We thought that since the legends line up in both worlds, Voldemort would love to hide is soul there. He'd want to be as famous and revered as St. George in both worlds."

"Right," Harry said. He stood up, "I guess we should go visit then?"

"Now? Right now?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Why not?" Harry asked. The urge to run was building in his legs again, and suddenly all he wanted was to be doing something, doing anything. He had his invisibility cloak in his pocket and his wand on the desk. He picked it up, saying, "I say we go now."

Hermione looked only slightly less taken aback than Ron. Slowly she said, "Harry, we might be walking into danger. We should bring protection…and weapons."

"We have our wands," Harry said, "and I have the sword from that goblin." He had only just remembered the weapon now.

"Plus, he has the unicorn shirt," Ron added helpfully, "and we have Shield Hats…"

Hermione gave them a considering look, and then decided, "Ok, give me a few minutes and then we'll meet in the front hall."

Ten minutes later they were ready to go. Hermione had put on her travel cloak, as had Ron, and both were looking grim. Ron was clutching his wand so tightly that it betrayed his otherwise-calm attitude, and Hermione was chewing her lip. Both were wearing Shield Hats, and Hermione had a small bag over her shoulder that looked like it was full of rocks. In his haste to go Harry had not put on his cloak, though he had donned Hagrid's fuzzy jumper over his Weasley one and tossed some robes over them both.

After what seemed like ages to Harry, they were ready to go. He shrunk the sword very small and put it in his pocket – it was far to conspicuous to casually carry around.

"So, where are we going?" he asked when they were standing on the lawn of Grimmauld Place.

"Uffington," Hermione said unhelpfully, "But seeing as that's a large area, I think you had better let me or Ron guide you there."

Harry looked at her, confused. "Why would you know any better where we are going?"

Ron looked at him guiltily, "Well, we, erm…visited before. Without you, just after Christmas."

Harry stared at them. They had gone without him? To find a Horcrux? An irrational possessiveness bubbled up in him – this was his journey, not theirs. He glared at them. "Well, them you obviously don't need me this time either do you?" he snapped testily.

"Of course we do Harry," Hermione said calmly. "Why do you think that we came back without trying to get at the Horcrux? We can't do it without you – you're a Parseltongue."

Harry blinked at her, then felt himself blush. He had forgotten what Voldemort had said about the Horcrux and how it was hidden. They did need him. Unable to think of something to say, Harry replied lamely, "Well, good."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and grabbed his arm. She looked at Ron and then whispered, "One…two…three." At once Harry was being squeezed from all sides by a pressure that was so severe it made Hermione's firm grip of his arm feel like a paper bracelet. The air was forced out of his lungs, sucked into the nothingness around him. With each breath he lost more air, but was unable to breath in more air. 'Like a boa constrictor,' Harry thought, uncomfortably.

Suddenly, they popped into existence again, and the world exploded into being around them so violently that Harry felt dizzy. They were standing on a dirt path at the bottom of a gigantic ridge. To his left Harry could see a white outline of what looked very much like a huge upside-down cat. To his right was a disgustingly long path up the steep ridge that Hermione was eying with an ominously purposeful air.

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione indicated the upside-down cat and said, "Well, there's the horse –"

"Dragon," Ron corrected.

"Right, dragon," Hermione continued. "So we have to go up that path there to get to Dragon Hill."

Harry sighed, and began to climb. It was exhausting work, and more than once Harry thought rather bitterly that Hermione could have apparated closer. By the time they reached the top all three of them were panting and red-faced. The hill was very flat on the top, and there was a very large bald spot of exposed chalk on top.

"That's where the legend says that George killed the dragon," Hermione said softly. Even at this early hour there were a few families of tourists. One large American family of four kids was standing very near to them, so Hermione kept her voice down.

"So, when Ron and I came last time," Hermione shot Harry and apologetic look, "we checked out that bald spot, and it is definitely a magical entrance of some type, but we can't figure out how to get into it."

"Right," Harry said, and made his way towards the spot. As soon as he had stepped off the path, however, a uniformed man blew a whistle and charged over.

"Young man! This is a natural heritage site, you can't go traipsing around as you please! Stay on the paths!" The man gave him a little shake, as if to force some obedience into Harry, and then stalked off to his desk again. As soon as he had gone, Hermione pulled Harry around the other side of the guard's hut. They were now hidden from view of all the Muggles.

"Harry, we have to be sneakier than that," she said bossily. She raised her wand and tapped his head. Immediately Harry felt the horrible feeling of a snowball sliding down his back, and knew he had been Disillusioned. His skin took on the exact texture of the dirt below him, and his torso suddenly closely resembled the plywood of the guard hut. Soon Ron and Hermione looked the same.

"Wow Hermione," Harry said, genuinely impressed. "That's really advanced magic."

She waved her hand airily, and led him and Ron over to the bald spot. Nobody stopped them this time. When Harry swung his leg over the rope around the path, the guard continued to stare through him and clean his ear with his pinkie. The American family continued talking as if nothing was wrong. They couldn't see him.

When Harry reached the spot the first thing he noticed was the ridges edged into the chalk. They looked completely deliberate, but also entirely meaningless. Harry was sure that nobody would have got past that guard for long enough to deface the chalk, and yet there were two long curvy grooves criss-crossing the chalk patch. Harry stared at them. They seemed to draw his eyes in an unnatural way, as if willing him to understand, to solve their mystery.

He began to circle the plot slowly, still staring at chalk. The vague outlines of Ron and Hermione were visible only every once and a while as they shifted their weight. They were watching Harry circle. He was about halfway around the plot when suddenly one of the grooves suddenly made sense to him. Inexplicably, meaning rose in his mind. He whispered slowly to Ron and Hermione, "It says 'Name a thing you might send by owl'."

He could feel Hermione's smile as she said, "I knew it. Harry these must be some type of snake writing…or paths or something, to give us the password. I thought you might understand them. Ok, something you might find in the mail…a letter?"

Harry had continued along the edge of the path. It took him a lot longer to find the exact spot by which the other line was readable, but find it he did. It read, 'Add it to the place of a scowl.' He quickly relayed this information to Ron and Hermione.

"A scowl?" Hermione said, perplexed. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied in the direction of his invisible friend.

"Well," Ron's voice came from behind Harry, "that would be a mouth, right?"

Hermione gave a little gasp, "Yes, it would! Something you send in the mail…must be a parcel!" Harry watched her outline walk right up onto the chalk. "Parcel-mouth!" she announced to the ground, "Parselmouth!"

Nothing happened. No door opened in the chalk or transported Hermione anywhere. Harry cleared his throat, "Hermione, do you think I ought to…?"

Her voice was embarrassed as she muttered, "Oh, of course, yes. I just…got excited. Sorry."

"Right," Harry said. He concentrated on the curved lines in the chalk and did his best to vividly imagine the snakes that had made them. "Parselmouth," he hissed softly.

Immediately Hermione sunk out of sight. She didn't even get time to gasp, or to grab Harry. Ron gasped behind Harry, "What just…where do you reckon…"

'No idea, Harry said, "but we had better be following her." Harry grabbed at the air he knew Ron actually occupied, and after several snatched he grabbed cloth. Forcefully he tugged his friend onto the chalk patch, right into the middle, and whispered "Parselmouth."

He had the brief, horrible sensation of the sand coming up to meet him as he fell through it, but almost instantly it was replaced by an odd weightlessness. Suddenly Harry felt as if he barely existed at all, and he watched distantly as his body drifted through the solid rock as if it were water. Then, just as abruptly, he was falling through air, very much solid again, and hitting the dark ground with a nasty bump.

They had landed in a completely dark cave. Illuminated by the tip of Hermione's wand only, the cave was low but very wide, and Harry could only hazily make out and arch of stone directly ahead of them. Lighting his own wand as Ron lit his, he could then see that the arch was in fact the start of a long, thin tunnel leading off the cave and down.

Hermione looked very uncomfortable. She was shifting from foot to foot, and looked as if she very much longed to bolt but had nowhere to go. Suddenly she lunged out and tapped them with unnecessary force on the heads, removing the disillusionment charm. Her wand arm shook badly.

"Are you ok Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh yes," Hermione said breathlessly. "I just don't like being underground very much."

"Oh," Harry said, unsure of how to comfort her. They certainly were underground…far underground…and there did not seem to be any exit but the tunnel that led even deeper. He motioned towards it miserably, "Well, I guess we better get moving. I don't feel like sitting here for all eternity."

Ron nodded warily, and Hermione gave a little determined puffing noise and set off. Harry and Ron quickly fell into step with her, and soon they had reached the tunnel. Here they had to continue in single file, for the tunnel would not accommodate two people side-by-side. Harry went first, Hermione second, and Ron last. They walked in complete silence listening for the tell-tale sign that there was anything ahead in the tunnel.

Suddenly his ears picked up a sound that terrified him to the bone: a deep, rasping breathing and the scrape of pacing, long-clawed feet across the stone. He stopped, halting Hermione and Ron, and whispered, "Nox!"

Ron and Hermione followed suit, and they were plunged into dark silence. As quietly as he could, Harry crept forward around a bend in the tunnel. He fingers slid along the smooth walls, guiding his way. The noises got louder, and his heart sank. He did not need to smell the rotting meat or feel the unnatural heat ahead to know that Hermione had been right. A dragon was blocking the tunnel.