Chapter 11 – Fade to Black

Hermione Granger was not happy. The cause of her malaise was twofold. First, the wizard she had let kiss her in a fit of adrenaline fuelled relief that they had survived unscathed during the battle that had killed Dumbledore. The second was the wizard she had wanted to kiss after the self-same battle.

She knew that a tense and awkward conversation was going to have to be had with the former, and she was beyond upset that she had neither seen nor heard from the latter since Dumbledore's funeral. She suspected that the latter had seen her kiss (or more accurately, get kissed by) the former and feared that was the reason for his disappearance.

As soon as it happened, Hermione knew that letting Ron kiss her was a mistake. She also had a moment of clarity which showed her just how wrong it was for her to try and supress her true feelings and try to synthesise some kind of romantic attachment to the redhead. If she was being honest with herself, she knew that she would never be truly happy with him, their arguments were legend. They weren't simple disagreements, they often turned into actual screaming matches. Sure, she had disagreed with Harry, sometimes vehemently but their disagreements and arguments had never descended into the same levels of interpersonal vitriol that her fights with Ron had. Hermione knew why. Regardless of their disagreements or the reasons for them, Harry respected her enough to make sure that their arguments were always clearly defined and restricted to the matter at hand. Ron did not. No matter what they were fighting over, an argument with Ron always wound up getting personal.

This was just one of the reasons the bushy haired witch found herself subconsciously avoiding Ron as she mused around the castle. She had made her way back to the dorm and was about to throw herself onto her bed in frustration when she noticed a packet sitting on her pillow. Picking up and and looking at it saw her heart beat that little bit faster. It had her name on the wrapping, but it was the handwriting which caused that spark, the messy scratchy scrawl which she would recognise anywhere. Harry's handwriting.

She quickly opened it to find a note and a mirror in a plain but classy silver frame. Gently putting the mirror back on her pillow, she turned her attention to the note.

Hey 'Mione. I'm guessing you are pretty pissed off with me just now. I can't say you would be wrong either. I'm sorry I've not been around, you know me, I get stuck inside my own head and I'm not the best person to be around. Plus, I've had things to do, I've had to put some plans in place for what comes next. I've missed you though, I've already lost count of the number of times I've had to think about something and wound up wondering 'What would Hermione do?'. If I channel my wonderful best friend I know I can't go too far wrong.

The mirror was left to me by Sirius. You can use it for more than just looking at. When you pick it up, say my name. All of it. When we talk I'll try and tell you more, but I need to keep you safe. That's the most important thing to me. You've already gone through so much because of me, I can't put you in any more danger, 'Mione. I just can't. I can't lose you.

Hermione read and re-read the note, feeling the moisture gather at the side of her eyes. "Harry, you noble, self-sacrificing… PRAT!" She picked up the mirror as instructed and feeling oddly self-conscious said "Harry Potter" Her eyebrows furrowed when nothing happened before she noticed the small sentence. All of it. "Harry James Potter". The surface of the mirror turned from reflective to black and moments later started to clear. Instead of looking at her own face though, she found herself looking into a pair of emerald eyes.

Harry had a sad smile on his face. "'Mione! I see you got my present then!"

"Harry Potter! You are right, I am mad at you. Where the HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU. I swear I'm going to hex you into the year 3000 and back."

"I'm sorry. I will tell you what I can, I promise." Harry then recounted the trip to the Ministry and his claiming of Grimmauld Place. "As for what comes next, well, the headmaster finally told me why Voldemort didn't die in 1981, so I've been going over some of the information he left me. I'll tell you but you can't tell anyone else. He made horcruxes."

Hermione looked puzzled. "What's a horcrux?" It took a lot for her to admit there was something she didn't know, although that it was Harry she was asking made it easier. He had never made fun of her relentless drive for knowledge, not had he ever made any comment when he discovered there was something she didn't know.

"A horcrux is just about the darkest thing a wizard could ever create. Basically, it's an object which is used to store a fragment of someone's soul. To make one you have to commit cold-blooded murder, and worse, you have to enjoy it. Killing someone in a fit of blinding rage wouldn't do it, you have to have killed just because you wanted to kill. That act fractures your soul, that fragment can then be cast out of your body and into an object. As long as that fragment exists, your body can be killed, but your soul will survive and can be re-absorbed into another body."

It took a lot to give Hermione cause to be speechless. This did it. Harry knew better than to interrupt her thought process however and give her a minute to absorb the information and start to filter it through that brilliant brain she had.

"You said 'horcruxes'. Plural."

"Yes, he made more than one. Dumbledore reckons he made either 3, 5 or 7. He favoured the idea of 7, which is apparently an important number in arithmancy."

Hermione agreed "yes, that would make sense from an arithmecy perspective, but surely each time he fractured his soul there would be less and less to turn into one of these things? I mean how do you even measure how much of someone's soul has been fractured, how much has gone into the horcrux…"

She looked into Harry's eyes, seeing the weariness and getting a sense of just how much her friend had weighing him down. "So what do we do now?" she asked, with an inadvertent but subtle emphasis on the 'we'.

"I've had a couple of meetings with Madam Bones and spoke to an unspeakable. I have another set of paired mirrors, I've left the other one at the Ministry with Bones. The unspeakables are looking into their secret archives for anything they have about horcruxes, but until then, I need to try and find them. Turns out I destroyed one in second year without knowing it."

Hermione wasn't top of the class for nothing. "The diary?" Harry nodded. "So do you know what he used for the other horcruxes?". Harry could see there was something niggling at her and asked what it was.

"Oh, it's nothing, I'm sorry. I just can't help but think that etymologically the plural of horcrux should be horcruces, rather than horcruxes. I know, I know, it's stupid to even think about that when there's so many more important things to be worried about but you know what…"

"'Mione…" Harry's voice was soft but firm. "It's ok, I know that once you get these thoughts you have to see them through. It's one of the many things that make me so glad I have you in my life."

Hermione's eyes snapped back to the mirror. She had been looking away, ashamed that she had allowed such a trival thought to derail her, even for just a second. She should have known that Harry wouldn't let her wallow like that. What's more she knew just by looking at him and seeing the honesty and admiration on his face that he meant every word.

"To go back to your question, I know for sure about three. The diary like I said I took care of in second year. Dumbledore found another, it was a ring which used to belong to an ancient wizarding family, the Peverells. Their name is extinct now, but Dumbledore found out that Voldemort was a descendent of one of that line. The third is a locket which I found at Grimmauld, it's an artefact of Salazar Slytherin. The diary and ring have been destroyed, I'm working on a way to get the locket taken care of, then I go hunting for the rest."

"You can't do this alone, Harry, it could be dangerous!" Hermione's voice rose as it was prone to do when she was stressed.

"I know, 'Mione" Harry replied sadly. "That's exactly why I need to do it alone. I told you, I'm not going to put you in harm's way. I need you to be safe. Go back to your parent's house, get them to go away with you for a while, go to…" Harry paused and Hermione could see a look of pain cross his face. "Go to The Burrow if you must, but please stay safe."

Hermione figured there was no time like the present to say some things to set Harry's mind at ease about one thing at least, but as she started to speak she saw that Harry had been distracted by something. She heard him swear as an Owl arrived and then heard the voice of Amelia Bones. It wasn't quite a howler, but it was the ministry equivalent used to convey urgent messages

"Harry, I need to speak to you now, no delays. This is a portkey, same password as last time. Come immediately."

Harry turned back to the mirror and looked at the face of the woman who meant more to him than he could ever bring himself to admit. "I'm sorry 'Mione, I need to go. I will call you on the mirror as soon as I can, you will feel it vibrate and heat up. Don't tell anyone else you have it."

Harry ended the call leaving Hermione to shout out in frustration. "SHIT!"

- oOoOoOo - Dance of Death - oOoOoOo -

Harry felt the familiar tug on his navel as he portkeyed into a room he didn't recognise. His momentary panic was lessened when he saw the monocle wearing sight of Amelia Bones sitting behind a desk. She looked up.

"Thanks for coming so quickly Harry and I'm sorry that I had to impose on you like this, but things have happened. Rufus Scrimgeour is dead. He was assassinated by Pius Thicknesse this morning."

Harry looked in shock at the head of the DMLE. "Do you know if he was tortured before he was killed? Do you know if any secure information was given away?"

"We can't say for sure, he was killed in his office, but the only warning we got was the dark magic alarm went off when the killing curse was used. There was no suggestion of imperio, but the wards wouldn't detect someone using legillimancy on someone. Rufus was a skilled occulamens though, so I have to say I don't think so."

"Where are we?"

"We aren't at the ministry, I've pulled myself and some other key people out of the bullding at the moment. Thicknesse was of course arrested and has an appointment with me and as much veritaserum as I need. When he was stunned he was checked and the dark mark was found on his left forearm, so the assumption is that it was a death eater assassination. That I don't get is that Thicknesse has been with the ministry for years, he must have known that casting an unforgivable would set off alarms. Why not use a cutting curse, or a reducto."

Harry stopped to think about it. "He wanted to be caught. Or rather, Voldemort wanted him to be caught. I know how Voldemort works, he will want to send a message. We all know Fudge was in Malfoy's pocket, when Scrimgeour took over I may not have particularly liked the man, but he was undoubtedly on the side of the light and wasn't for sale. That removed a key source of influence for Voldemort."

"That makes sense, I presume Thicknesse either accepted has fate or was compelled. If he was put under the imperius curse, we can't find him guilty of assassination, but we can still nail him for the dark mark." Bones picked up some papers. "The Unspeakables are still housed in the Department of Mysteries, there are so many layers of security that it's the safest place for them, although access to that department is even more closely guarded."

"What would happen if an Unspeakable was outed as a death eater?"

"It's already happened" Bones answered with a snarl. "That idiot Fudge didn't pass on some anonymous tips which could have let me clear out some of the known death eaters years ago. When he finally fell on his sword, information came to light that Augustus Rookwood was a death eater. He's currently taking his rest and relaxation in Azkaban."

Harry thought for a second. "I was meant to be having another meeting with Jefferis after he had done some research, he was going to try and get some…"

Bones cut him off. "The meeting won't be happening, at least not face to face and not for a while, but he did arrange for a package to be delivered." She handed over a small parcel to Harry. "Jefferis has left you this. It's a mokeskin pouch, he says there are some surprises in it for you and some parchments with his thoughts. If you need to speak to him again, please give me a shout using your mirror."

"Speaking of which, who did you send me a howler rather than use the mirror?

Amelia smiled. "I tried the mirror first, but it looked like you were on another call. From the tone of your voice, it seemed intense, although I couldn't make much of what was said."

Harry hadn't even noticed the second mirror go off. "Sorry Madam Bones, but yes, I was speaking to Hermione. I didn't even think that I had the second mirror nor that it wasn't on me at the time. I'll need to get used to making sure I have both of them. Different pockets though!"

Amelia just nodded. "I've heard good things about Miss Granger, smart as a whip." Harry smiled and nodded. "I know she and your other friends were here the night that Sirius was killed. I can't say I'm not pleased that you have a support network, but I would council restraint with what you say to whom regarding your task."

Harry nodded again. "I've told Hermione the basics, but I won't be telling anyone else. Hermione might give a watered down summary to Ron, but I trust her to keep my secrets."

Harry looked at the older witch. "With Scrimgeour gone, what happens now? We can't afford for a suspected death eater to become minister."

"Any suggestions?" Amelia knew that Harry had seen a number of death eaters when Voldemort was resurrected and again at the Ministry battle which saw Sirius Black killed.

"Would you be surprised if I said that I do in fact have a suggestion?"

Amelia looked up, eyebrow raised with an unvoiced question.

Harry took the opportunity. "You."

- oOoOo - Hooks in You - oOoOo -

Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor common room which was otherwise empty. Most of the students had already left, those who remained were mostly muggle born or muggle raised like her. One of the few magical families remaining were the Weasleys. They would all be leaving the castle soon, so Hermione knew that it was going to be time to have the hard discussion she had been avoiding.

The tall redhead eventually walked in and smiled as he saw the brunette sitting there. He sat beside her and leaned in as if to go for a kiss only to notice her lean back away from him.

"What the… What's wrong with you? Why have you been avoiding me?" There was a distinct edge to Ron's voice.

"I've not been avoiding you, I've just been…" Hermione sighed. "Ok I have been avoiding you. I've had so much on my mind."

"Like what?"

Hermione glared at him. "Oh, I don't know, Ronald, maybe like the headmaster being murdered, maybe like death eaters invading the school, maybe like us getting caught up on a battle for our LIVES, and maybe like Harry has been missing since the headmaster's funeral, not that you have shown any signs of noticing that!"

Ron's modus operandi was to ignore anything which didn't suit him and focus on anything which caught his mind. "You know what Harry's like. If he wanted us around he wouldn't sneak off. Maybe he wants to be alone, wouldn't be the first time."

"you mean like the summer after Sirius died when he was kept in solitude? Or maybe you mean like 4th year and that damned tournament when you decided to distance yourself. Does it really sound like Harry to want to be abandoned? If Harry is keeping away from us it's because he is doing something dangerous and doesn't want to endanger anyone else." Hermione was almost shouting by now. Tears were forming in her eyes.

"So that's why you have been avoiding me, because of Harry." Ron's voice was icy.

"No. I've been avoiding you because you were making me feel uncomfortable." Hermione steeled herself for the impending onslaught, which to her shock never came.

"What do you mean?"

"Ron, ever since you kissed me" Hermione made a point of not thinking of is as them kissing, rather her being kissed "you've been acting like you are possessive. You've been crowding me, overly familiar, touchy feely, clingy. I don't know what you expect to happen Ron, but we are about to go our separate ways for the summer, we aren't sure if there's going to be a war, and my… our best friend is throwing himself in the path of danger. I can't do this, Ron, I just can't." The tears were falling freely now.

Ron looked stunned. "I assumed you would come to the Burrow with me."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. "You ASSUMED? You just presumed that I had nothing better to do than follow Ron Weasley wherever. You didn't think that I wanted, no needed to see my parents? You didn't think that maybe we should be seeing what we could do to help Harry?" Hermione noticed Ron bristle at the mention of his best friend's name. "What is your problem? Harry is meant to be your best friend but every time I mention his name you look like something foul smelling has been put under your nose."

"If Harry wanted our help, he would have asked for it. He didn't ask, so if he wants to go on his own, why should we try and stop him. We should spend the time together and talking about us."

Hermione didn't know what came over her, but she found herself once again unleashing a vicious right hand to a boy's face. Last time she had slapped Draco Malfoy hard enough to make him stagger to the ground. Ron was much more solidly built but the force of the slap was still hard enough to make him rock backwards, his cheek even redder than his hair.

For a second it looked like the red head would return the slap before sense overtook him. Hermione though wasn't finished. "This is a perfect example of what life with you would be like. You don't think, Ronald Bilious Weasley, of anyone other than yourself. Your callous attitude toward your so called best friend sickens me. Go back to the Burrow, run away back to mummy and leave others to look after those you are supposed to care about. It's what you are best at." With that final snarled barb she turned tail and ran up to the girl's dorm, leaving a staggered Ron in her wake.