As Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the fireplace into Dumbledore's office, they joined the Weasleys, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and Minerva McGonagall. Albus Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, his eyebrows furrowed together as though deep in thought. Lupin cast a glance at McGonagall, who shook her head slightly, although he was a bit taken aback by how worried she seemed to be.

"What's going on?" asked Tonks, before Lupin could voice the question himself.

"Where's Severus?" demanded Molly. "Why is he never here?"

"I have requested for him not to join this meeting," replied Dumbledore, calmly. Then he rose, drawing himself to his full height, before walking towards the Order. "I have asked you all here to inform you that a way to destroy Voldemort has been discovered."

There were a few whistles, and widened eyes. Lupin narrowed his eyes.

"Is that what you were talking about during summer? About a possibility that Voldemort practises very Dark Magic to attain near immortality?"

"Yes, Remus, it is related," said Dumbledore, pushing his half-moon spectacles higher. "You see, I have managed to enlist some help in obtaining a very precious memory from my colleague, Horace Slughorn, about him telling young Tom Riddle about this dark magic called a Horcrux."

Lupin gasped, as did many of them. Arthur Weasley and his family looked rather perplexed.

Dumbledore briefly explained what a Horcrux was to the Weasleys, causing them to have the same reaction as the rest upon understanding. Then he looked grimly at the rest, raising a mangled hand to them all. Tonks let out another gasp.

"I have just managed to destroy one of them. And I mean – just." Dumbledore picked out the Sword of Godric Gryffindor on his table, nudging the pieces of metal at its tip. "I found this ring of Marvolo Gaunt's at his home – pardon me, Remus." He smiled, seeing Lupin's bewildered expression. "Gaunt is the father of Tom Riddle's mother Merope. I have seen Tom wearing this ring whilst he was at Hogwarts, claiming that it was a very precious heirloom. When he became Lord Voldemort, he wore it very often too. But when it finally disappeared from his fingers, I went to hunt for this ring – and deduced that it might be in his family home. I just managed to retrieve it and stab it with the sword."

"Is this – is this why you have been leaving Hogwarts in the night?" whispered McGonagall, with a frightened look etched on her face.

"Yes, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "But this ring has been cursed very badly; whoever comes within reach will be severely cursed for life."

There was another round of gasps.

"Luckily for my excellent skills, pardon my humility, the most I have been afflicted with – is a hand like this," Dumbledore added cheerfully. Then he became serious. "I have actually sent two students on a mission for me. Only one man knows more of these Horcruxes than we do. And I am sure you all have heard of Maldash Wentervale."

This was too much for Lupin. He charged forward, right in front of Dumbledore, and glared at him furiously.

"Harry didn't even know about Wentervale! We promised not to tell him! How could you send Harry to such danger?"

"Is Ron with him?" asked Molly, frantically, and Arthur looked equally horrified.

It was McGonagall who spoke up next. "I'm not sure whether to be relieved – but it is not Harry, Remus. And neither is it Ronald, Molly."

Lupin spun around, taken aback. "What?"

"As you say this, I believe the people you have just mentioned are now standing outside my office door, eavesdropping on our conversation."

Dumbledore waved his wand; his office door unlocked, and the spiral staircase outside swivelled. The Order members stared at the doorway expectantly.

From the staircase emerged a rather red-faced Harry, along with a purple-faced Ron, a white-faced Ginny, followed by Corrinne and Neville who sported various shades of those colours. Then from behind, there was a serene voice. "Oh, I thought you all might be here... I couldn't sleep after all!" And Luna Lovegood appeared with a dreamy look on her face. "Good night, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Welcome, my dears."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't..." Harry muttered as he stumbled in with the rest. Then Ron saw his family and gawked. Arthur looked positively livid at their presence.

"I just told you all not to worry!" He glared at Molly instead when he said that, and she cringed. "And why was the Floo communication cut halfway?"

Ron's mouth hung open, but no words came out, and he shut it again, looking mournful. Harry, on the other hand, ignored Arthur Weasley's outburst. Instead, he stared straight at Lupin, whose expression was that of utmost relief. The relief transformed into puzzlement soon after, as Lupin turned his gaze back to Dumbledore.

"Then who did you send?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

In the cold, damp depths of Optimisticheskaya, there were two figures huddling together. Slowly, the shudders of one of them began to ease, and the sobs began to subside.

A gust of wind blew through, jolting Draco, and he suddenly realised that his hand was on top of the mass of brown curls. Immediately, he withdrew his hand, and stared awkwardly at the girl who was holding onto his arm.

Hermione felt the lack of touch on her head, and suddenly remembered where she was and what she was doing. Swiftly, she pulled away from Draco, and looked away from him, brushing away the wet, sticky trails on her cheeks. The memory of Wentervale dissipating into thin air was still etched into her mind. Suddenly she realised that she really wished for Harry and Ron to be beside her. Although Draco...

The thought of Harry and Ron was more overpowering however; she was suddenly overwhelmed with images of them laughing cheerfully, and teasing one another. She felt a lump in her throat as she thought of them, and wondered if they had become so desperate finding her that they would rummage through her things and eventually pull out her Defence Against the Dark Arts book to find the note she had left them? Would they understand what she wrote? Casting a swift glance at Draco, who was looking away, she felt a pang of guilt hit her. Even though he was unlikely to have thought her completely altruistic, the fact that she was inevitably going to let Harry and Ron into his secrets felt like she was betraying him.

It was best that she didn't think along those lines.

"We've got to get out of here," came his stiff voice.

Hermione looked up and saw his eyes fixated on her, but she noticed that they weren't hard and cold as they used to be. It seemed that he was rather affected by Wentervale's death as well.

"What do you mean, get out of here?" asked Hermione, softly.

Draco turned his gray eyes to meet Hermione's that were now red from crying, but he knew he failed to make them gleam like steel bolts. He just hadn't a word to counter her.

"Wentervale's right," whispered Hermione, gazing at him deeply. "This is your mission as much as it was his. Your father would have – "

"Don't talk about my father like you know him!" burst out Draco, angrily. He grabbed his left arm with his right hand, and shoved the shirt sleeve up to reveal the sinister mark. Hermione winced when she saw it, and was about to look away when Draco hissed, "LOOK! Look at it, you damn well look at it closely. This is a mark of a servant of the Dark Lord. No matter how well I compartmentalise my mind, no matter how well I cover it all up, it will be futile. My father was a fool for letting Wentervale go. He was a fool to commit suicide! He was a fool to go against the Dark Lord! He was – "

"A fool for loving you? And your mother?" Hermione's soft voice cut through his angry tones, and his words fell like stringless puppets. And so did he, his hands withdrawing and falling limply at his sides.

"I don't know your father, Draco Malfoy, I admit that. All I know was that he was a cruel man who didn't know how to treat people with basic respect, let alone house elves." Draco snorted, but she ignored him. "All I know was that he slipped Tom Riddle's diary into Ginny's cauldron in our second year and led her to open the Chamber of Secrets..."

"Wait, what was that about?" demanded Draco, looking suspiciously at Hermione. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets with a diary my father gave her?"

Hermione sighed, and explained to him what had happened exactly. A cloud cast over Draco's face as he listened to what his father had done, but other than that, he had not much expression.

"At least one Horcrux is destroyed," said Hermione, firmly.

"Oh yeah, and there are like six others." Draco rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Granger."

"I have a name."

"Granger," said Draco, pointedly. Then he looked away.

Hermione gazed at him. She knew that there must be an internal battle raging within him. Even if he chose to embark on Wentervale's legacy of finding the remaining Horcruxes, Voldemort would track him down and kill him. After all, he was not indebted to Draco the way he was to Wentervale. Draco was no match for Voldemort at all. Her heart rate accelerated as she thought of that. But if they tried to leave now, they wouldn't have a chance to get back here. It was Wentervale who had allowed the Teleporting Veil to accept them – she had read about Veils, and that they were two-way, but only for one use.

Draco's mind was in a whirl. Even if he wanted to escape, there was no way of going back the way they came from; the illusion of stone walls had been shattered, and to navigate the route back via the unfamiliar cave walls would be highly dangerous. But the fact that they now knew only as much as Wentervale did was not at all reassuring. They wouldn't know what they were in for. If the Dark Lord placed Inferi around the first Horcrux they saw in the cave Dumbledore brought them to, what else would he do to protect his other Horcruxes?

He tried his best not to look at Hermione Granger. Yes, there was still her. Even though he knew that without her, he wouldn't have come this far, and neither would he progress much further if he chose to move on alone, he didn't exactly want her to come along. Part of it was that – this was his own personal mission. And her assumptions about his inner feelings were making him very uneasy. A Death Eater shouldn't be so easily exposed, not when his heart was not with the Dark Lord. Part of it was that – after watching her spiral down the chasm earlier on, bloodied and broken, he couldn't help but cringe at the possibilities of all kinds of things happening to her. Gryffindors were known for their courage, but he couldn't have her rush into danger because she wanted to help him.

Draco's scowl deepened. He hated it when he started thinking for other people. He was the one most in danger now! Any moment, and the Dark Lord might summon him. If that happened, how was he supposed to come back to this place again?

"I think..." Hermione ventured to say, and Draco couldn't help but look at her now. Her eyes were shining again, and he groaned inwardly.

Every time her eyes shone, it couldn't be a very good thing.

"I think we should at least try to destroy the Horcrux that is in this cave. Find some way. Then we try our best to get back to the Veil – I've read about such stuff, and it's two-way and should still be there. Last time we'd ever need to use it anyway. At least we know how to get to the first cave – through Fawkes. Then we can continue planning about getting to the other Horcruxes, right?"

Bloody hell. She was cornering him.

"Draco Malfoy." She sounded like she was his teacher reprimanding him.

He didn't budge.

"Professor Dumbledore said he was exploring in the first cave; surely he won't leave us to die here right?" Hermione tried to sound optimistic now.

Draco refused to respond. Instead, he let out a low snort.

"Hey!" She started to sound panicky, and reached out to shake him. He brushed her hand away angrily. "Draco, please!" She was pleading now. "You can't just stop here! After all that Wentervale and your father went through to get you here!"

The mention of his father for the umpteenth time really sparked a fire in Draco, and he swiftly turned to glare at her.

"You're just worried because I'd dump you here," he said with a sneer, even though he knew she wasn't likely to think that way. "Or maybe you're just scared I'd turn around and go back and kill Dumbledore, because all I wanted to know was how my father died!"

There was a deathly silence.

"You can't think that," said Hermione, at last. Her voice was soft once again, and her eyes had lost their shine.

"And why not?" scoffed Draco.

Hermione didn't speak; she merely looked away.

Draco clenched his fists.

It seemed like a long time before she broke the silence. "I think when you decided to come along to find Wentervale, you knew that you were challenging death. And it's the same with me."

Draco could feel the cold spread through his body. He wished he had his robes with him now, and regretted tossing the rags aside earlier on. Or maybe he just wanted something to grip because his fists were so tight now that they hurt.

Finally, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. Letting out an angry huff, he gestured to Hermione. "So are you moving, or not?"

Her head snapped up; her eyes were shining again.

"I knew it," she whispered.

"Shut up, Granger!" Draco retorted, glowering.

To his utmost surprise, the tears had sprung back into her eyes again, and she had a hint of a smile at the edge of her lips. Then she did break out into a huge smile, despite the tears swimming in her brown eyes. "So I was right – you really didn't become a Death Eater because you wanted to take over your father's position there. You are seeking revenge for your father because you love him. You've been horribly spiteful and full of rage to mask the desire to betray Voldemort..."

Draco couldn't bear to hear all these words coming from Hermione. He took a step forward with his wand in his hand, ready to silence her, but she put out a hand to grab his wrist. He tried to shake it away, but her grip was surprisingly strong. Growling, he glared at her, but her eyes were literally sparkling now.

"Everyone thought you were trying to suck up to Voldemort and be his next loyal minion. And even if they thought you wanted to take revenge, they thought you'd become snarkier and more dangerous. Everybody thinks you're a spy for the Death Eaters in Hogwarts. But all you want is for your father to be avenged. You're not bad, you're not terrible, Draco. You're not."

"I suppose 'everybody' really just means Potter and the Weasel, isn't that so?"

"Now's not the time for wearing masks, Draco." Hermione's grip on his wrist felt really hot to him. "I've seen through all the masks you've been wearing."

His wrist slackened in her grip and his eyes softened.

"Why are you doing this..." His voice trailed off, weakly. Then he cursed inwardly. This girl was incredible; she was actually making him feel like jelly.

Then suddenly, before she could answer, he wrenched his hand out of her grasp, and then swung his wand overhead to throw a light into the far end of the cave. Once the area was lit, a vague outline of a large passageway could be seen.

When he turned back to look at her, she saw that his mask was back up again. The hard expression, the firm jaw, the hint of a sneer. But even as he walked on without waiting for her, she couldn't help smiling again, for now, she knew exactly how to pull down that mask.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Severus Snape tapped his foot impatiently, as he sat as his armchair. Swiftly, he got up and began to circle the rug in his office. Then he switched to pacing up and down, muttering under his breath as he did.

Albus Dumbledore had summoned the Order of the Phoenix to his office, but he had specifically told Snape to stay within his office. This meant that there must be something that if he heard, he would have no choice but to betray confidence to the Dark Lord. Having been told that Draco Malfoy had been whisked away by Dumbledore, along with the know-it-all from Gryffindor, and the fact that Dumbledore was now back without the two of them, could only mean that he had sent both Draco and Hermione Granger somewhere, perhaps on a mission for him! And Dumbledore kept reassuring him that he would explain everything later.

Snape increased his pacing. Draco said he knew what he was doing. If the Dark Lord knows he and Albus had been together on a close basis, and yet had failed to finish the Hogwarts Headmaster off, Draco would be doomed! And he, Severus Snape, was supposed to keep an eye on Draco!

And he had no idea where Draco was now.

The Dark Lord's words came floating back. You are not the only pair of eyes I've sent to watch this boy.

Snape felt his body tense as he thought of that. I don't take kindly to traitors.

Whatever was Draco up to?

Suddenly, there was a scrabbling at the fireplace, and Snape swung his great cape around to watch the red flames burst into bluish-green ones. Then the flames subsided a little, and in the crackling hearth, there was the face of Peter Pettigrew, with his buck teeth scraping the edges of the flames.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Snape was clearly not interested in seeing this face at this point in time.

"Here to report..." said Wormtail, eagerly. "...that the exiled traitor is dead!"

Snape stared at the hearth in amazement. "Dead?"

"His time has come, apparently," cackled Wormtail, clearly elated. "The spirits of the dead spoke to the Dark Lord!"

Spirit-summoning was a very Dark Art, and the Dark Lord was very accomplished in it, often summoning spirits of former Death-Eaters to inform him of things in the underworld. It was probably a good thing that one could only summon those who wished to speak to him as much as he wanted to speak to them, otherwise, the Dark Lord would probably have a hard time dealing with all those whom he killed, especially having to handle the insults of Sirius Black and James Potter, Snape thought snidely.

"Noted," said Snape, sharply. With a wave of his hand, the face of Peter Pettigrew vanished from the hearth, and the red flames came licking up at the sides again with a merry crackle.

Just as Snape was making his way back to his desk, there was a loud rap on the door. Frowning deeply, he waved his wand at the door, and it opened, revealing a thoughtful-looking Astoria Greengrass.

"Miss Greengrass, it is way past midnight." Snape's cold voice enunciated every word clearly. "And it doesn't seem like you have an emergency to report."

She walked in, and shut the door behind her. "I suppose anything concerning Draco Malfoy might be considered an emergency?"

Snape was careful not to give anything away. "Is anything the matter?" His curled lip remained for effect.

"Pansy said he's nowhere to be found. I've a good feeling I know what he's up to."

"Miss Greengrass, if this is spite – to do with the missing pendants, I assure you – "

"That Draco is not at fault? Oh but he admitted to it."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. "Your grandmother said she is not pursuing the matter."

Astoria's auburn hair seemed to glow a deep red in the dim lights of Snape's office; her cat-like green eyes were gleaming as she spoke. "Professor, haven't you wondered how Draco knew about the pendants? I didn't tell him. Or – " Her eyes flared. "Were you in the know as well?"

"What is it – that you have risked coming out after bedtime hours – you wish to tell me?" Snape's voice was curt, but Astoria merely smirked. "I'm not sure if your beloved student told you, but I have reason to believe that Hermione Granger was involved in the plan to steal the pendants."

"That is a grave accusation you are making, Miss Greengrass." Snape eyed her coldly. "Especially one that concerns somebody outside of Slytherin House."

"Oh, of course, she didn't nick the pendants from us, that was certainly Draco." Astoria shrugged her shoulders. "But she found out from Daphne that we had such pendants. And given the astute abilities of that girl, I'm quite sure she put two and two together. Otherwise, my sister and I have had no other encounters with others that revealed the stories behind our pendants. And so –"

"That will do."

"But Professor..."

"Out."

"Professor – " Astoria's furious voice rang out.

"OUT." Snape glared at her.

Fuming, Astoria flung open the door and stalked off, leaving the door agape. Snape sank back into his chair, glowering at the desk in front of him.

So Draco had found out that Lanneria Wentervale was the Greengrass girls' grandmother. And now, of all people to find to assist him, Draco had to find Hermione Granger. He didn't even tell Snape what he was up to, and he had Hermione Granger helping him. Snape could feel his blood boiling. Didn't that boy know what he was in for, being a Death Eater? And one who had just assumed his father's legacy once he had come of age? Didn't he know what a precarious situation he was in now? How could he get one of Potter's sidekicks, and get whisked off –

Did Dumbledore know then? Snape's fists clenched. Did Dumbledore know what Draco wanted to do? He had taken Draco and Hermione Granger to some place knowing that Draco had the mission to kill him, and at the same time harboured his own personal agenda? What did Dumbledore know? Why wasn't that old man telling him anything?

The mark on his left arm started to burn. Snape turned to stare at his arm, then slowly, he rolled up the sleeve. The dark mass on his arm began to whirl and swirl to form the dastardly mark of the skull and serpent. Then he could feel a massive throbbing under his skin, and the mark began to glow green. Trying to keep his emotions in check, he flung his robe sleeve downwards and picked up his quill to scribble something onto a small piece of parchment. Then he got out of his seat, tossed the parchment into the fireplace which sputtered green flames for a moment before reverting back to red, and strode out of his office.

A/N:
1) My version of the Gaunt ring story is slightly different and more simplistic than what was stated in canon.
2) The art of spirit-summoning is another one of my own concoctions.