Believe it or not, I got this chapter out earlier than I thought I would.

And we have art! YES! In the months that have passed, three truly beautiful people have taken the time to draw fanart for this fic on tumblr! However, I'm about to pass out and don't have the energy to jump the looks needed to post links here, so please chwck the chapter on AO3 or my tumblr for them. Sorry.

Chapter 21

Repeated knocking on his door drew Roy out of the diagram he had been working on for the entire afternoon. Leaning back, Roy stretched his arms above his head. He collected his work from the floor, stood up, and stored everything in the secure drawer before heading for the door. A new set of knocking came before he reached it.

Roy waved the door open to find Albus standing in the hallway, a grim expression on his face that had Roy immediately on alert.

"I was beginning to think I'd have to break through the wards," Albus said easily, but his voice was missing the lightness that would usually accompany such words. There was no twinkle in his eyes.

"My apologies, I was absorbed in my research."

"Of course," Albus said with a nod. "I'm afraid I'll have to take you away from it, though."

"What happened?"

Albus shook his head.

"A dire event. We are expected at Grimmauld Place."

Fred Weasley sat leaning back in the kitchen chair, looking around at the already packed room. Next to him, George was finishing off a chocolate frog. The Order of the Phoenix had been called to an emergency meeting, and much to their mother's displeasure, Dumbledore had officially accepted Fred and George into the Order two days ago. So here they were. From the expressions around them, it was clear no one knew why they had been called; Sirius had just shrugged when they'd asked him.

Finally, the fireplace flared green and Dumbledore stepped through. Professor Mustang followed him a moment later.

Fred didn't miss the tension in the room when Professor Mustang entered. He glanced over at George to confirm he had noticed, too. Mum had told them about what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, no doubt hoping to dissuade them from joining the Order, but it hadn't worked. Fred and George hadn't been there, it was true, but they had been at Hogwarts for most of the school year. They'd gotten to see enough of Professor Mustang that they had decided to trust their own judgment over what others believed about him. Mum hadn't been pleased.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Dumbledore said even before he'd reached a chair. His eyes passed over the room and they stopped an instant on Fred and George. "I was hoping our next meeting would be under brighter circumstances; alas, that wasn't possible."

Dumbledore didn't sit down, and instead moved to stand at the head of the kitchen table. Professor Mustang did take a seat, and next to him Mundungus Fletcher squeaked and scooted his chair over in the opposite direction.

"Two hours ago, Emmeline Vance was found dead at her home, the Dark Mark suspended in the sky over it."

Horrified gasps and exclamations met this announcement. Down the table, Mum covered her mouth with her hands.

Something inside Fred froze.

He'd known joining the Order would mean following a harsh path, but he hadn't expected his very first experience as part of it would be the death of a fellow member. He'd barely spoken to Emmeline Vance last summer, but suddenly her face was sharp and clear in his mind.

"How?" Mad-Eye asked, his face grimmer than anything Fred had seen on him before. His magical eye was oddly still, focused intently on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore closed his eyes. For once, he looked as old as Fred knew him to be.

"The Cruciatus curse. We don't know anything else for now." Fred felt himself blanch. He remembered last year, when the fake Moody had shown them the Unforgivables. The Killing Curse was one thing, but to kill someone using the Cruciatus? He might be sick.

"So they could've gotten anything out of her," Moody muttered, drawing Fred out of the path his mind had taken. Fred's first reaction to Moody's words was to think that was a very callous thing to say, but he reminded himself that they were at war and there was a reason Fred and George had been made to take all those oaths before they were allowed to join the Order.

This wasn't just about individual lives; it was about the future of the entire wizarding world.

The meeting was long and sombre. For some people it was clear Emmeline Vance's death had brought home the dangers of war, while others were more shocked and grieving than anything else. Roy had barely exchanged a few words with her outside of Order meetings, but no death was to be taken lightly.

At the end of the meeting, Fred and George Weasley stood up and walked over to him. For a moment, Roy wondered if they knew about the Department of Mysteries, but quickly realised that they must know now that they were part of the Order. Molly's expression was certainly displeased enough to suggest as much, and Fred and George were not looking at her a little too deliberately.

"Evening, Professor," George greeted him with a grin, plopping down on the chair that Mundungus Fletcher had hurried to vacate the moment the official part of the meeting was over.

"How's Hogwarts? We heard there aren't pink toads around anymore," Fred continued, leaning against the table.

They looked ready to burst out laughing, though their expressions weren't quite as relaxed as Roy had seen them in the past. Roy conceded that they had reason to be pleased, given the amount of effort they'd put into getting rid of Umbridge. And if they clung to that fact too hard… well, they certainly could use an excuse to put aside what had been discussed at the beginning of the meeting.

"Surprisingly uneventful as of late," Roy replied easily. "We can even breathe in the hallways now."

Fred and George grinned and exchanged an undecipherable look.

"Yeah, about that—" Fred started.

"—We wanted to thank you—" George continued.

"—For helping our baby siblings," they finished together.

Roy was taken aback by their words and how honestly they spoke them. He smiled, feeling more grateful than he would have expected to be to realise this meant at least they wouldn't be jumping out of the way whenever he walked around Grimmauld Place.

"It was my pleasure."

Now, Roy was more on alert about his surroundings than he had been for months in this particular house, and thus he hadn't missed Sirius' glances or his approach. He had, however, pretended that he hadn't noticed.

"Hey, Sirius," George greeted, waving at him.

"Hey," Sirius replied with a grin. Roy didn't miss the tension in his expression. "Mind if I borrow Roy?" He addressed the twins, but he was looking at Roy.

Roy nodded. Excusing himself from the twins, he followed Sirius out of the kitchen. They walked up the stairs in silence, and Roy couldn't say he was surprised when Sirius led him all the way to Buckbeak's room —Buckbeak didn't look bothered by their presence, he simply glanced up at them before returning to his snack of some animal extremities. What surprised Roy was to see Sirius draw his wand and ward the room. That was new.

Sirius took a deep breath to steel himself. He could do this, this conversation was way overdue already.

"Should I be nervous?" Roy asked, his voice light. Sirius knew him better than to take that tone at face value right now.

He turned around.

"No. Well, I don't think so," Sirius said. He pocketed his wand. Moody would have scolded him for putting his wand in one of his trouser pockets. As if he cared what Moody would say right now. "I just want to talk."

Roy nodded. His face was unreadable, something that Sirius took to meaning he was uncomfortable, too. Roy had always been quite open with his expressions. This was a new facet for Sirius, and one he didn't care to have directed at him. He liked open Roy better. Sirius missed him.

"I've been thinking about what you said. A lot," Sirius started. He fidgeted in place, then started pacing, in need of a way to let out his nervous energy. "I'm not sure I fully understand what you meant; to be honest, I'm not sure I want to." No, most certainly not. "But what I am sure about is that you're a good person, Roy. And you're my friend." Sirius stopped his pacing and turned to look at Roy, determination settling in him. "Listen, about that letter, I'm never gonna like Snape, he's a greasy git and he was a Death Eater in the making, but... I guess you had a point. Existing isn't a crime."

This realization had come to him like a slap to the face. He'd finally gathered his resolve to write to Harry after the close call with Voldemort's trap, and after two letters Harry had told him why the memory had unsettled him so much. He'd told Sirius about his life with the Dursleys, more than he'd shared so far, about how they thought themselves so much better than him because of how he'd been born.

The only reason Sirius hadn't marched over there right then was because Remus had been with him and had talked some sense into him.

Still, the similarities between the Dursleys' treatment of Harry and the Marauders' own behaviour towards Snape had been enough to shake Sirius.

"I'm not asking you to like Snape," Roy said finally. "I'm not even asking you to stop hating him. But there is a great difference between hating someone and thinking they are inferior to you. That's what Death Eaters do, Sirius."

Yes, Sirius had eventually reached that conclusion, too. He hadn't liked it. He'd spent his entire life trying to distance himself from his family; realizing that he shared such a mindset with them had been staggering. Sirius still hadn't recovered, but he had every intention to reappraise his perspective.

He sighed.

"It won't be easy," he admitted, "but I'm working on it."

"That's all I'm asking," Roy said. And, just like that, the expressionless mask was gone.

Being back at Grimmauld Place for dinner was a strange but very welcome change in Roy's life. After his part in Riddle's scheme, Kreacher had been confined to his cupboard-bedroom, which left Roy and Sirius alone in the mostly-clean kitchen to fend for themselves. Sirius had cooked dinner, a surprisingly edible stew that would have been impossible a few months ago. As they ate, Roy told him about the plans to have Sirius' name cleared, which led to a long and animated chat about all the things Sirius wanted to do.

Roy returned to Hogwarts past midnight, and he stepped out of Albus' fireplace expecting to find the office dark and empty save for Fawkes. Instead, he found Albus awake and behind his desk. His face was a picture of grimness reminiscent of earlier in the day.

"Ah, Roy, right on time," Albus greeted him, and gestured to Roy's usual armchair.

"What happened?" Roy asked, walking over. His good mood had all but evaporated.

"It appears Tom is making up for lost time. Not even an hour ago, he sent an ultimatum to the Ministry of Magic: if Fudge doesn't hand power over to him in three days, he will do something terrible."

Which meant something bad was coming up. That demand wouldn't be met, and Riddle must know it. He no doubt expected to place the blame for whatever he planned to do on the Ministry's shoulders.

"Do we know what he has planned?"

"Not yet. It seems Tom is keeping his cards close; none of his followers know the details, only that he is aiming for something large that cannot be covered up," Albus replied with a frown.

Wonderful.

"Anything else?" Roy asked dryly.

"Draco Malfoy has been Marked and ordered to kill me," Albus said simply.

Roy cursed.

"He can't expect that plan to work," Roy said, torn between scepticism and the sinking certainty that Draco's mission was a punishment for Lucius' failure. In a way, the blame lay at Roy's feet.

"Most certainly not. Severus believes Tom expects him to be the one to kill me once Draco fails."

Under different circumstances, Roy would find it odd that Riddle was so confident of his chances after his recent loss, but he knew better. During the Order meeting, they'd discussed the fact that giants had been spotted moving, many werewolves now served under Riddle openly, and dementors wandered the outskirts of muggle cities. There were three confirmed victims of the Dementors' Kiss so far. The unfortunate truth was that the Death Eaters were no longer the deadliest or most dangerous of Riddle's followers, and the Ministry was hardly in a position to face his forces. Right now, the Ministry was fumbling around and trying to put themselves together while Riddle moved to begin his campaign openly.

Roy sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Tomorrow they were going to the old house of the Gaunt family.

That morning Roy didn't head downstairs to eat breakfast. He dressed in one of the sets of clothes he usually reserved for exercising, pocketed two lighters and two pieces of chalk, put on his traditional ignition gloves, and secured his wand in its holster. Not for the first time, he missed his gun. He could just see Riza's scowl if she knew he was walking into potential danger without more weapons, but he didn't really believe a gun would make much of a difference when dealing with whatever wards Riddle had set up. Having Riza covering his back, though, would be a great help.

Roy shook his head, checked his various pockets one last time, and walked out of his rooms. He passed Filius in the hallway, who wished him a pleasant run and reminded him to eat something with the same amused smile he reserved for what he saw as Roy's quirky muggle habit.

Albus was in his office, standing by his desk in very much uncomfortable wizard robes that Roy knew better than to try and talk him out of wearing. What surprised Roy was Fawkes' presence, perched upon Albus' shoulder.

Roy raised his eyebrows.

"I figured Fawkes might help us leave if Tom's wards are too unpleasant," Albus answered the unasked question.

He offered Roy his arm and Roy accepted it with some reluctance, steeling himself for the very distasteful experience of side-along apparition.

They appeared in the middle of what could have been nowhere, but Roy knew was the forest surrounding Little Hangleton, well away from the eyes of prying villagers.

"Now, stay alert," Albus cautioned, wand raised. "I doubt the house would be easy to find under the best of circumstances, and who knows what Tom set up around it."

Roy flicked his right wrist to bring out his wand, and poised his left hand to snap his fingers at a moment's notice.

As they walked, Albus kept casting an obscure tracking spell that —he assured Roy— was less likely to trigger wards than the more average spells were. Surprisingly, it didn't take them as long as they'd feared to find the old Gaunt house. While there were strong muggle-repellent wards around it, the house itself hadn't been disillusioned, nor did it have any other spells designed to confound people around it. Not that it was in much need of such magic. If Roy and Albus hadn't known about the house in advance, they would likely have missed its dilapidated remnants amongst the vegetation that had grown in and around it over the last fifty years. Roots had broken two of the four walls, and many branches shrouded it in shadow, adding to the air of abandonment Roy had seen even in the oldest of memories. No windows remained, and the door had rotted to the point it had fallen from its hinges. Moss had completely taken over the walls. It didn't look particularly sanitary to be around.

"You know, this place grows more charming every time I see it," Roy told Albus conversationally.

"It has a certain appeal to it," Albus agreed in the same way.

Albus pulled a stick out of his pocket and waved his wand over it. The stick immediately grew and changed shape, until Gryffindor's ornate sword was resting in Albus' hand.

"Could you carry the sword?" Albus asked.

"Of course," Roy agreed, taking the proffered weapon. While their plan was to take the intact horcrux with them to test the array along with the locket, they'd both agreed there was a possibility that whatever spell Riddle had put on it could be too dangerous to move the horcrux. In that case, they would destroy it here rather than risk leaving it whole.

Albus waved his wand in a series of complex figures, casting various detection and diagnostic spells. Some Roy knew, others he didn't and guessed their purpose from context.

"Curious," Albus said. "It appears Tom has left no surprises on the house itself. All the magic I can detect lies beneath the floor."

"I hope it doesn't explode if we step on it."

"Only one way to find out," Albus said.

He moved towards the house and Roy followed him, Fawkes flying comfortably above their heads. They stepped over roots, broken furniture, and shattered pottery as they moved into the shack. The rotten floorboards creaked ominously under their feet, but none gave way. They came to a stop in the middle of the room, wands trained on a floorboard that appeared no different from the others. Albus levitated it out of the way, revealing what looked like a solid gold box underneath.

"That's tacky," Roy commented. He cast a detection spell, and it came back with news of twisted magic right beneath the surface of the box.

The box itself couldn't be moved with magic, but they managed to pick it up without touching it by using various floorboards as floating makeshift shovels. Albus cast a spell on the kitchen table to stabilize it before Roy lowered the box on it. Ten minutes of spells later, they confirmed the box itself had no harmful spells on it, which didn't speak very favourably of what they were likely to find inside.

Albus cast a complex unlocking spell on the box and it sprang open, revealing its contents to be Marvolo Gaunt's garish ring, something Roy should have expected in retrospect.

The ring was almost as Roy remembered from the memories, gold with a large black stone inlaid in it. From this close, and not hindered by the missing details of any memory, Roy could see there were lines engraved into the stone, a strange triangle with a circle inside that looked nothing like any symbol Roy had ever seen before.

Albus' hand closed around the ring.

Fawkes cried out.

Roy turned before he could fully process what has happening, slamming the pommel of Gryffindor's sword into Albus' hand to force him to let go of the ring. The ring clattered to the floor, followed by Albus' suddenly boneless body. Roy dove after him, catching Albus just before he banged his head into a broken pot.

Fawkes was already there, crying over Albus' now blackened fingers.

"What the hell was that?!" Roy demanded. He brought his wand up and called to mind every healing spell he had learnt, but nothing had any effect. The diagnostic spell he cast only showed meaningless wiggles, and the healing spells bounced off Albus' hand as though a barrier repelled them.

Roy turned to Fawkes.

"Take us to Hogwarts," he ordered, and reached out to grasp Fawkes' tail with his left hand while he kept hold of Albus with his right one.

He saw Albus' hand close around the ring once more right before Fawkes complied with Roy's order.

Roy batted the ring out of Albus' hand with the sword again and pushed him down on one of the couches. He looked around, trying to find anything that might be of use, when Albus muttered something.

"Severus…"

Which was actually a good idea —the first one in a while— and Roy might have thought of it himself if he was more familiar with the man.

"Get Snape!" Roy barked at the portraits, who were giving them very baffled and curious looks.

He saw them startle and heard some rustling, but his attention was immediately back on Albus. Fawkes was crying over his hand again, and yet Roy could swear the black on Albus' fingers had spread the slightest bit.

Cursing to himself, Roy raised his wand again and tried something other than basic healing spells. On the third attempt, and after shoving an exhausting amount of energy into it, Roy managed to freeze Albus' hand in a stasis charm.

To be continued

About Dumbledore and the ring… There was no avoiding it. In canon, despite being fully aware that it was a horcrux, whatever spell Voldemort put on the ring was enough to compel Dumbledore to put it on, probably latching onto his desire for the Deathly Hallows. I have my doubts Dumbledore had realized just what Gaunt's ring actually was before he laid eyes on it, or it's likely he would've managed to resist it. As such, Roy had no forewarning to expect something might go wrong.