Author's Notes: Yes, I am skipping over some stuff here. My thought process was mostly that if people wanted to read about a Horcrux hunt, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows already exists. I am sorry if anyone finds this disappointing. On the other hand, the next chapter will be full of excitement – though probably not very fun – and I shall try to get that up tomorrow for your reading pleasure.
29. In These Loaded Dice
Somehow, incredibly, everything finally seemed to be coming together.
First, a beautiful golden cup simply appeared at one of their meetings in the Headmaster's office, with no explanation given – though the rather smug look on Sirius' face gave Hermione the impression that he must have had something to do with it.
Looking at the Cup, gaudy yellow gold covering the darkness of the soul fragment within, she felt suddenly rather cold. It was undoubtedly very valuable – such a quantity of precious metal could not have been cheap, and that was before one considered the fact that it had once belonged to the Founder Helga Hufflepuff – but she couldn't say that she would be sorry to see it destroyed. It seemed almost like justice for the old woman who had been cruelly murdered, and the house-elf who had been forced to take the blame.
Then, a couple of weeks later, Harry showed up with a battered silver tiara that Dumbledore took away from him immediately. Her friend had been even more reserved and secretive than usual in the time since they'd dealt with the Cup, and when asked where he'd found the thing he would only say: "I tried looking at the secret Room in a different way, that's all." That was obviously not allowed to be an end to the matter; under the steady gaze of the Headmaster he scowled and snapped out: "I wasn't trying to find a Horcrux, I swear. It was just… just – I wanted to hide something, okay?"
"And in doing so you found something that someone else had hidden in that same place, many years before." Professor Dumbledore turned the tiara over and over in his hands, then held it still and eyed the inscription with interest. "Hm. 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'. I think this must originally have belonged to one of the Ravenclaw family. Perhaps even the great Rowena herself." He set it down on his desk and waved his wand over it in a complicated pattern, muttering incomprehensible words under his breath. After a moment they all saw the dull red glow. "And now it is most assuredly a Horcrux."
"But how would Harry know that it was?" Lavender sounded both amazed and slightly accusatory as she looked at her classmate.
Harry shrugged and averted his eyes. "It just felt wrong, I guess. Like… like every hair on my body was standing on end, and my mouth tasted like metal. Not quite like blood, though. It was heavier than that, almost suffocating." He shivered. "Touching it felt so awful that I knew it had to be one of Voldemort's soul things."
"I had no idea that they'd feel quite so unpleasant." The researcher in Hermione wanted to touch the tiara and experience it for herself, but the rest of her said that she was not going to do something quite that bloody stupid. This particular inner voice sounded more like Draco than Professor Snape. "The diary didn't, but it was intended to be opened and used by someone, so it would've defeated the object if it had, I don't know, exuded some sort of atmosphere of evil. It was meant to seem as much as possible like a normal book."
"I suppose it could just be that I'm unusually sensitive to them," Harry said, with a pointed glare at the Headmaster. Hermione wanted to ask what he meant, and why he was so angry, but she strongly suspected that neither of them would tell her. Something was going on, and there seemed to be some plan concerning Harry – who was still one of her best friends, despite everything that had changed – but she didn't know what it was. It was driving her crazy, especially since she couldn't forget the terrifying theory that Harry might himself be one of the Horcruxes.
"Miss Granger is likely correct about the diary, in any case." From his acerbic tone and sharp glare, Professor Snape was no happier about the state of affairs than she was. "And some people might wonder what it was that you were trying to hide, Mr. Potter."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't anything important."
"Indeed?" That raised eyebrow should have been patented as an interrogation technique.
"Severus." Professor Dumbledore did not raise his voice, but there was a definite trace of reprimand, which Hermione thought was rather unfair. "The main priority is to destroy the Horcrux, would you not agree?"
"But I..." Professor Snape met his eyes and abruptly stopped protesting. "Yes, Headmaster."
By the end of the session, another piece of twisted metal had joined the other three ruined Horcruxes, and more than one set of feathers had been ruffled. That some people were still keeping secrets, even while claiming to be sharing as much as they could... well, that didn't sit well with either Hermione or Professor Snape. But what could they do about it?
The ring from the very first memory turned up a few weeks after that, sitting innocuously on a small cushion on the desk. It wasn't entirely clear where it had come from, but the Headmaster seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and only sobered when Professor Snape said, "It was all I could do to keep Albus from trying to wear the damn thing. God only knows why he wanted to."
Was this another secret? Hermione wondered. But then the thought of the Headmaster willingly touching a dangerous artefact, even trying to put it on his finger, awakened something in her memory. "Oh! So that's why he had a blackened hand, because Professor Snape wasn't there to stop him!"
"What?" Perhaps unsurprisingly, this poorly-explained thought meant absolutely nothing to anybody else in the room.
"It was one of the first questions I asked you, do you remember?" She looked straight at Professor Snape.
"I..." His brow creased in thought. "Yes. You asked if the Headmaster had a blackened hand, which I thought was a completely bizarre question. Now... you're right. It must have been something to do with the ring Horcrux – though I still don't know what that was about."
Professor Dumbledore looked very tired and sad, Hermione noticed. His only reply was: "Just one more folly in a long life full of them."
"I don't understand." Professor Snape's frown intensified.
"I hope that you never do."
The silence grew thick and heavy, choking the air in the office. Hermione wondered what those grave words had meant. Was the ring something else as well as a Horcrux? Did it have some extra significance to the Headmaster that would drive him to take such a senseless risk? She leaned forward and squinted at the small black object, not daring to touch it but curious about what secrets it might hide. The only clue she could see was a strange triangle emblem engraved into the material where another ring might have been set with a precious stone.
"What is the symbol on the ring?" She looked up in time to note the expression on the Headmaster's face, apparently a response to her question. Whatever that triangle meant, he knew it – and perhaps that was the reason why he'd wanted to touch the cursed ring.
"It is... in a way, it is a maker's mark." Professor Dumbledore looked and sounded almost unfathomably miserable. "The ring was made to hold an incredible object; a stone that could defeat Death itself." He sighed. "Or so it was said – but that is not really true. It can show you the shadow of someone you have lost, but no more than that. And yet... I had thought that perhaps to see them and speak to them might be enough."
Professor Snape was visibly affected by this speech, but he collected himself enough to shake his head and break the spell. "It would never be enough. You would always end up wanting more time, for as long as you held the Stone." He looked into the Headmaster's eyes, and whatever he saw made him move the ring away. "Besides, Voldemort made this into a Horcrux. Who can say what that horrific magic might have done to the Stone's power? The chance of corruption would be far too high. I think we should just destroy this and have done with it. There is too much temptation here, for more than one of us."
"Thank you, Severus." Professor Dumbledore bowed his head in acknowledgement of the point. "You are right; it would be wisest to destroy both the Stone and the Horcrux before either can cause any more harm in the world."
A short while later, they sat looking at five broken magical artefacts, the ruined shells of what had once been Voldemort's Horcruxes.
"How many more are left, do you think?" According to their original theory, there were another two to find, which ought not to have been so very daunting a task – except that they had no more clues, and no idea what they should be looking for.
"I think either one or two, assuming that Voldemort had the time to complete his plan." Professor Dumbledore seemed rather melancholy as he looked at the destroyed Horcruxes, and Hermione found that she agreed with him. It was a terrible shame that these objects, many of which had possessed great powers or historical significance, had been tainted so cruelly. There had been no alternative but to destroy them, but it was still a waste.
Then she frowned as she realised exactly what he'd said. "One?"
"It depends. He might have wanted to have a seven-part soul, acting on the theory that this would make him stronger – and, in that case, he would only have made six Horcruxes." From the authoritative tone of Sirius' voice, and the way Professor Snape was nodding along, it was obvious that the two men had discussed this between themselves before now. Probably while she was working on her essays or studying spells that might be useful in the Third Task.
"Even so, we don't know what he might have used to create a sixth Horcrux. If he did."
"What a cheerful thought." Harry was smirking, so she could only assume that he was laughing at her.
She felt defensive. "Well, we don't. There's no good pretending that things are better than they really are." This served to wipe the smile from Harry's face; they all knew now that the timeline had been altered, probably in order to benefit Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was not a good position to be in, and lying to themselves – or joking about it – wouldn't help.
"It might be that Lord Voldemort had yet to complete his set of Horcruxes when he lost his power." Professor Dumbledore's voice was light enough, but Hermione could tell that he was being deadly serious. "It would be very like him to want to use the death of his prophesised enemy" – he nodded towards Harry – "to make his last Horcrux. And we already know that that murder did not go according to plan."
Harry shifted uncomfortably under the Headmaster's gaze, and rubbed his scar rather self-consciously.
"So we... might have found all of the Horcruxes that exist?" Hermione couldn't believe that it was that easy. "But only if he wanted to have a seven-part soul rather than seven Horcruxes, and only if he never got around to making the last one before he got hit by his own rebounding curse." There were too many layers of uncertainty here. She didn't like it.
"That is a very succinct summary of the problem, Miss Granger." Professor Snape sounded almost flippant, but there was a troubled look in his eye. "So it is difficult to know whether or not our job is done – or as close to done as it can be until we find what has become of Voldemort's original soul and banish it to the Abyss."
"Do you think we can do anything before he resurrects himself with Harry's blood?" This had been weighing on Hermione's mind for some time; it seemed less than ideal to allow a powerful Dark Lord to return to life before cutting him down. Or trying to, at least.
Sirius nodded. "The way I figure it, we don't have to wait for that. More; we shouldn't wait for that. He'll be easier to defeat before he gets his body back. Just strike as soon as the Portkey delivers you to the graveyard. If you can take down a Death Eater between you – which we already know you can, especially if you take them by surprise – you can seize whatever it is that contains Voldemort's deformed body and bring it to me in the Department of Mysteries. Then we can just sling it through the Veil and the problem should be solved for good."
"That sounds... very easy." Hermione frowned, not sure she liked how casually Sirius was treating something so serious.
"Too easy." Harry nodded at her, his eyes showing his agreement with her assessment of the situation. "We're assuming that the plan will be the same here – but we know that plan didn't work. Shouldn't we assume that he also knows that? Which... well, if he does, why would he do the exact same thing again?"
Draco nodded. In all the excitement of working together on such a project, he seemed to have mostly forgotten that he was supposed to dislike Harry. "Yeah, if he just wants Potter, then the knowledge of what went wrong before might drive him to do things differently this time. Although... there's still Dad's theory about the dual function of the Triwizard Cup Portkey; if it's true, he might not want to change the plan."
"It's hard to think how else he might be planning to get Harry for the ritual." True to form, Hermione had been turning this over in her mind for some time. "I mean, if it didn't matter when or how, he'd have done it by now. We should definitely expect things to go wrong, but I think the Third Task still matters."
Harry had a fierce look in his eyes. "We'll be ready," he said. "We both know what we have to do."
Stay together. Stay alert. Take the enemy by surprise. Hermione ran through the mantra in her head and nodded decisively. "I won't say we're ready because I don't want to tempt fate. But I think we're as prepared as we can be."
"Good, then." Professor Dumbledore looked more tired than anything else, even with his attempt at a smile. "I will speak to both of you the night before the Task. If all goes as we expect – and even if not – you will have important parts to play." He sighed. "And I can only hope that, whatever happens, we will none of us find cause to regret it."
And on this less than encouraging note, the meeting came to an end.
Weeks passed without even the mention of a sixth Horcrux, and Hermione began to despair of it ever being found. Not that it really mattered all that much to the plan she and Harry had made. They still intended to prevent the resurrection of Voldemort when the opportunity arose, but it would have been nice to know for sure that he was gone forever. Hermione had never been one to waste pity on her enemies, and she was not ashamed of her bloodthirsty attitude. They were fighting Voldemort, for goodness' sake. This war would only be over when he was destroyed and the ashes scattered.
Another thing that worried her was Harry. Never the most outgoing or forthcoming person, he had withdrawn even further into himself, sometimes barely talking at all. When he didn't think she was looking, he would sometimes watch her with sad almost yearning eyes. And he wouldn't tell her why! When she asked, he always insisted that there was nothing wrong with him, except for nerves about the Third Task – now looming ominously on the calendar's horizon – and fear of failing when they faced Voldemort. These were reasonable enough replies, of course, but she was sure that they weren't the whole truth.
And then there was the fact that she really was nervous about the coming Task and the encounter with Voldemort and the Death Eaters...
"Hermione." She didn't look up. It was Draco, probably come to scold her about not sleeping enough or something. "You're vibrating." The worry in his voice was undercut with amusement, and it was this that made her look up and meet his eyes.
"I am not." She didn't quite manage to smother every hint of the smile his presence brought to her face.
"You're winding yourself up about something. I could see that from the other side of the room." He perched on the arm of her chair and reached down to take her hand in his. "Tell me about it. I doubt I'll be able to solve the problem, but maybe talking about it will help."
Hermione looked down at their intertwined fingers, her involuntary smile widening a little. After a moment of simply enjoying being close to him, she spoke. "I'm worried about Harry." As she said the words she realised the truth of them; she was concerned about some things and outright terrified of others, but most of all she was worried about her friend.
"Not for yourself?" Draco rubbed his thumb gently across the back of her hand in a way that he probably thought was soothing but was actually anything but. She forced herself to concentrate on his words, frowning slightly. He laughed. "I mean – the Third Task and all... that's dangerous for you too."
"Oh, yes, I know." Hermione waved her free hand in an expressive gesture of dismissal. "But that's not what I meant. It's the..." She looked around warily and lowered her voice. "The Horcrux thing. I know that the Headmaster has been telling Harry things that he hasn't told the rest of us, and I think that it's those things that have him scared half out of his wits. He pretends he's okay, Draco, but he's not. I know he's not. There's just... if he won't tell me what's wrong then I can't help him, even though I want to."
"That's just it." Draco sighed and pulled a face. "If he won't tell you then he doesn't want you to help. I know you don't like hearing this sort of thing, but maybe there's nothing you can do. He's your friend, too; he cares enough about you that he doesn't want you to beat your head against a brick wall trying to solve a problem that can't be solved. Just..." He paused for a moment to think. "Give him help if he asks for it, and otherwise just pretend he's telling the truth and everything's okay."
"But I know it's not!" Hermione wasn't sure that Draco really understood how she worked. She cared about Harry, and she couldn't just... switch that off to make herself feel better.
"I know. But for whatever reason he wants to pretend it is. So you can help him by not making him think about his problem that he doesn't want to think about." He squeezed her hand. "I know it's hard, but sometimes the best thing you can do is believe someone when they say they don't need your help."
"Yeah, I get that." It wasn't satisfying, even though she knew it was true. Perhaps especially because she knew that. "I'm – I'll try." She hesitated, but then the words exploded out of her. "I'm just so afraid, Draco. The way he looks sometimes, I almost think that he's going to..." She couldn't quite bring herself to say it out loud.
"Maybe he's just being his normal pessimistic Slytherin self." Draco spoke brightly, but Hermione could tell that he didn't believe what he was saying. Everyone offered false comfort, it seemed. She just didn't know if she could do the same.
After a long moment of soul-searching, she let out a deep sigh. "Yeah. Maybe." Her fingers tightened around Draco's, seeking comfort from him. He shifted his weight until he slid down from the arm and landed next to her in the seat of the chair, then pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Is this chair big enough for both of us?" she asked, but she was laughing under her breath as she said it, and happily moved over to make room for him.
"See, it's fine." Draco sounded just a little smug. "Though... do let me know if you need some space." She could feel his breath in her ear and his body pressed up against hers; space was the last thing on her mind.
"I think I'll be okay." Hermione looked sideways at him, reflecting on how close his face was to hers. "It'd be better if we weren't in the common room," she added, laughing rather huskily when she saw a pale pink blush spread across his cheeks.
He growled slightly under his breath, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "You are a very cruel woman."
"I know." She gave a mock sigh. "I think it's your bad influence."
"My influence?" Draco looked affronted, but she knew better than to take that seriously.
"Yeah. Everyone agrees that you're a bad influence on me, don't they?" She snorted. "I mean, I should be writing an essay, or maybe preparing for the Third Task..." Her words trailed off, and she grimaced. There was no escaping it. Even the most pleasant thoughts brought her mind back to what she was trying to forget.
"Hermione?" The sharp worry in Draco's voice made her wonder how terrible her expression must be.
"I'm okay." Hopefully if she said it often enough, that would make it true. "It's just that the Task is too close now. I can't not dwell on it and... well, and all the other things." She took a deep steadying breath. "I keep trying but it doesn't work."
"Ah." Draco spent a long moment simply looking at her in silence, his face almost entirely unreadable. "I suppose it really is a shame that we're in the common room, isn't it?" His tone was only very slightly suggestive, really, but it was very obvious what he meant. He definitely could take her mind off her problems and fears, for a while at least – but not here, not in front of so many people. Her cheeks felt hot all of a sudden, and she was sure she must look like a tomato. She was keenly aware of him sitting next to her, of how very close he was. And, just to make it even worse, she knew exactly what he was thinking about.
"Such a shame." It was supposed to sound dismissive, or at least cool and collected, but her traitorous voice cracked as she spoke. He laughed, soft and low, and she somehow felt it all throughout her body. She fidgeted in her seat and tried to glare at him, but for some reason it didn't seem to be working. "So who's the evil one now?"
He smirked. "I can keep this up all evening, you know."
"Oh, can you really?" Hermione could only snort at this. "I understand that a lot of men make such promises, only for..." She made a demonstrative hand gesture and flashed him a grin.
"I stand by what I said before." Draco smiled ruefully. "You are a very cruel woman." He managed to get out of the chair without losing his grip on her hand, then stood in front of her still holding it. "You know, I think we should go have a talk with Severus."
"Really? Why?" It seemed a remarkably awkward segue from what they'd been... oh. She put on a stern expression. "Are we actually going to get to his office?"
He looked rather sheepish. "Maybe? But... uh, probably not."
She laughed. "Alright, then. Let's go."
Late that evening, when she finally returned to the dorm, she found Lavender sitting on her bed, waiting for her. She didn't get to the point immediately, just remarked, "Only a week until the Third Task, now."
"Yes." Hermione took off her cold weather cloak and laid it over the back of her chair. "I'm kind of scared, but I think it'll be okay."
"Draco managed to reassure you, then." Lavender smirked. "I thought it was better for him to try it."
Her voice was light, but Hermione could hear the undercurrent of insecurity through the good humour. "Yeah, well, there are some things I don't think you'd want to do, even if they do cheer me up." She sat down next to her friend, gently nudging her knee against the other girl's leg. "It's okay, Lavender, I'm still your friend. I'm glad that I got the chance to be, you know?"
Lavender smiled. "Yeah, I know. But I was still like... is she just pretending to be my friend because that's what she's been told she has to do? So as to avoid suspicion and all that." She sighed. "I didn't think I was the jealous type. It's just... really silly."
"It isn't," Hermione said, firmly. "It's natural. If anything about this situation could be called natural, that is. I suppose I've just been terrible company lately because I'm worried about the Task, and about Voldemort and Harry. When it's all finally over and done with, things will go back to normal, or as normal as they can be here at Hogwarts."
Lavender laughed. "I shall hold you to that."
Hermione smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She made no verbal reply, only thought: if only saying the words was enough to make them true.
