Snape arrived quickly, head bowed and eyes averted.

"The curse on the Defense position," Harry said, voice clipped, "what do you know of it?"

"Nothing, Lord."

"Nothing? You've watched several of your predecessors be disposed of while you lusted after the position and you know nothing about how they have been swept aside for you each year?"

"The streak started in Quirrell's second year. Dumbledore and I believe he may have picked up the disembodied soul of you-know-who in his travels."

"He did. Tell me, does the vow chafe so quickly that you look for opportunities to resist already, or has the life of a spy ingrained dissembling as an unshakable habit?"

"Of the two choices, the second my Lord. However, I didn't want to send you in the wrong direction as I had no proof of my suspicion."

"In future, all suspicions or idle speculations will be presented when I ask a question. I am not so dim witted as to pursue a narrow course based on a hunch or my own prejudice."

"Yes my Lord. Of course."

"And find a new way to address me. Not only are you not anywhere close to Draco and Neville's level, but out of your mouth that title sounds like a carry over from your days as a Death Eater. I do not need you rekindling old habits, nor do I appreciate the comparison."

"Of course," he said with a bow. "I will think of something else... master."

"Not better."

Snape flinched and nodded.

"Now, you know how Voldemort thought." Thinks? No. The Conglomerate held too many souls to think the way Voldemort did. "Why, or better yet how, did he curse the position?"

"The why is easy. He wanted the position himself initially. I assume he thought he would guarantee the position would remain his and didn't realize the curse would effect Quirrell while he rode him. More likely, I believe he wanted the curse to do away with Quirrell so he could take control of the body more easily with the aid of the Philosophers' stone."

"The difference between the two theories is irrelevant. And the how?"

"Less apparent. I believe He-who- "

"Just say his name," Harry snapped. Snape's pale face and beaded brow reminded him that disobeying a command given without thought carried the threat of death. A small part of him whispered 'good.'

"If you can," he amended after a brief hesitation.

"Vol- Mr. Riddle believed in the power of objects. I think there is a good chance he cursed an object every professor would come in contact with. Given the long time frame of the curse, it would have to be an object professors would interact with over the whole term."

"Good. Yes, of course. The item would have to be something he knew would remain between changing professors, not a transient item or personal possession of Quirrell's."

"And it would have to be innocuous. He underestimated people, but even he must have suspected Defense professors would run at least basic checks," Snape said.

"I wouldn't count on that. Did you?"

"Of course. I sweep the entire castle yearly."

"You've missed a few spots."

"It's a big place. Besides, Dumbledore told me to turn a blind eye towards some things," Snape said, tone bitter.

"Such as?"

"Quirrell for starters. He wanted to be sure. Wanted to trap him in his bid for the stone. The diary. Again, Dumbledore made a bid to catch him. Dementors entered the grounds many times. Dumbledore always feigned outrage, but they are dark creatures. Even at lower levels, the wards should have made that impossible. I believe he lowered them intentionally, though to what purpose I have no idea."

"The Death Eaters in the forest," Harry said between gritted teeth. "Either he wanted publicity from the Dementors, which seems unlikely as he took pains to keep the wider world out of Hogwarts, or he knew about the rituals and got something from them. It didn't add up why so few went missing from Hogwarts. The wards were the main defense. Stealing kids from the castle would have been simplicity itself."

"Are you suggesting Dumbledore had dealings with Death Eaters?" McGonagall asked. She'd bitten her lip throughout their discussion while Harry's tone had been cold and, at times, blatantly disrespectful. The relationship between those two went far beyond a contentious student teacher dichotomy and as such sat miles out of her purview. Not to mention she could barely keep a neutral expression on her face and tone in her voice towards Snape after his ghastly confession. But this accusation? Surely Dumbledore had made an error.

"Nonsense," Harry said.

Minerva's shoulders relaxed an inch.

"I'm saying that given the other evidence we've found this year, Dumbledore has been a dark wizard for a long time and may have had a hand in leading that particular group. I'll have to talk to Amelia. Veritaserum is only as effective as the questions asked."

"That's a very serious accusation Lord Potter, "she said, one hand at her throat.

"And I welcome you to come see the evidence at his trial or even prove him innocent as a witness in his trial, Headmistress, but for now the more pressing concern is finding and breaking the curse Voldemort put on the Defense position six years ago. Severus?"

With a bow, he led them out of Minerva's office and towards the Defense classroom.

Once there, they continued their conversation about the object while Harry silently cast detection spells with a focus on Voldemort s' magical signature, a scent as it were, that Harry remained all too familiar with.

"It would have to act like a mild contact poison," Harry said.

Snape cocked his head. "So each time the victim touched it the toxicity would build up?"

"Correct, though instead of toxicity it would pump the victim full of bad luck over time."

"That would make sense. Each teacher died or was otherwise removed in a unique way. Less conspicuous than them all dropping dead of the same disease."

"He really had a sort of genius," Harry said. "I wonder what he could have accomplished if he stayed sane."

McGonagall and Hermione shivered.

"If it is contact it would have to be something other people wouldn't touch," Snape said.

"Well not often," Harry amended. "If the effects were gradual and required regular contact as we theorize, then anyone else would experience minor to moderate bad luck for a time, but the effect would probably wear off quickly. Anyone in any of your classes have particularly bad luck this year?"

"Hermione got saddled with you." Snape blanched.

At Harry's smirk a shade or two returned. "The Greengrass sisters."

"Either of them spend an inordinate amount of time here?"

"the younger one. Astoria." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"She says she wants to be an auror. I've been tutoring her."

That made Harry pause. He loathed any reminder that Snape may have some humanity, if he only showed it to those in his House. "Well, what did she touch often that other students didn't?"

"The board? I had her write out runes and practice writing Latin for spell creation."

They scanned the board and various other items Snape thought of.

When the frequent dead ends and close contact with Snape for a prolonged period of time made him twitchy, he felt Luna. His awareness of her had been growing since they consummated her inclusion in their relationship. Emotions never came through, but he could always sense her safety and had recently realized the previously unknown awareness was of her power reserves. The dip he'd felt after using her magic to heal the book tipped him off.

This was different, immediate, and strong. It was as if she visited his mind heedless of his impenetrable mental defenses.

She didn't talk per say, but he felt her eye roll and the sarcasm behind the picture she sent as if he'd asked for help with a rudimentary spell. A door with a glowing red handle.

"Of course," Harry said with a smack to his own forehead. He rushed up the stairs to Snape's office, the others on his heels.

He stopped on the landing and began to scan the doorknob.

"There," he said as one of the detection spells made the nob glow red. "Genius."

Snape and Harry began to chatter about the simple elegance of the all but invisible runic array etched into the swooped design of the door handle.

"That's all well and good," Hermione said, "but how do we destroy it? From everything you're saying it sounds like he built it to last."

"He did," Harry said, "and sealed off the preservation in such a way that I can't merely alter the array to nullify or reverse the effect. Genius."

"Yea," she said, arms crossed under her considerable bosom, "you've used that word a lot lately."

"Jealous?" Harry smirked. "If it helped, I absorbed his power, killed off his six backup copies, and threw his tattered remains through the veil."

"Only to have to hunt down whatever he is now and kill him again," she said.

"Third time's the charm." He hoped. "But no. Fiendfyre or Blackfyre might work, but with how much dark intent created this and how it's been able to develop, for lack of a better word, a will of its own over the years, I worry about it wresting away control."

"From you? "McGonagall asked.

"While as an adopted Black I have more control of the second than the first, both are chaos spells and earn to wreak uncontrollable havoc. If this curse wasn't also chaos based I'd have already melted it down."

After several minutes of brainstorming as a group, Hermione said, "What about my fire."

Harry paused. "That," he said slowly, "might work. Everything we've heard suggests you're all about purification and renewal."

"She," she said.

"Hmm?"

"She is about purification and renewal. I'm me."

Harry's face softened. "She is part of you. Accepting her existence isn't enough to manifest the power we need. You're not two. You're one."

At his own words, Harry's mind raced. Could the prophecy be about Hermione, not him? She had many soulmates and some deity, or part of one, attempting to work with Hermione. All that talk of annihilation or absolution. What if it was annihilation AND absolution? How did translating ancient Gobbledygook go? And in the list at the end that talked about Hermione, Luna, and him, didn't fire come first? In English, the last in a list held the most impact, but perhaps the first did in Gobbledygook.

"Harry?" Hermione called him back to the present.

"Right. We'll have to talk to the goblins again soon. For now, we need to go somewhere more peaceful." Without any further explanation, he wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and popped them both to her mountaintop.

Within seconds he had a bubble of extra oxygen and heat around them, something he did not remember doing when he'd visited this mountain top alone, not that he remembered much of that.

She caught her breath at the beauty of the shimmering mountaintop of obsidian and diamond. A second later her eyes filled with tears at the pain he'd been in to create this.

"Mio?"

She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He held her close and kissed her back with all the passion this mountaintop rekindled.

When she finally broke for air he said, "We need to work on your bond with the phoenix. I'm not sure what I'd do if you popped off to another reality again."

They looked around them at the beautiful testament to his power.

"My core's only grown since. I'm not entirely sure Scotland could withstand another meltdown." His eyes were cool jade chips.

She held his face. "Hey, we're fine. And we have Luna now. She'll be able to tell us if anything major is coming down the line." She didn't mention that if she did disappear again that Luna could keep him stable. True, but not something his haunted expression asked to hear.

"She helped me find the doorknob," he said. A smile tugged at his lips but didn't quite banish the ice from his eyes.

"See?" She pecked his lips. "Everything will be okay as long as we keep playing to each other's strengths. Now." She conjured them both cozy armchairs. "You've cost me a lot of class time this week mister. It's only fair that you teach me to make up for lost time."

He laughed which suffused his features in his normal mirth once more. "Alright. Most high intellectuals struggle with their animagus transformation because it takes meditation and the ability to relinquish conscious control to the subconscious animal nature within."

"Animagus? I thought we needed to tap into the phoenix for fire."

"We do. In your case I believe Gaia and Selene paved the way for your unformed animal subconscious to mingle with whatever part of herself this Samsara bestows on her champions to become the phoenix."

"This is something you come across often is it?"

He smirked and took her hand. "No, but I've been doing a lot of research at night."

"You should be sleeping at night."

"Once we have you sorted, the university set up and the Conglomerate of raging murderous soul fragments under control, I will."

"A lot is riding on your ability to perform under pressure mister," she poked him none too gently in the chest. "How do you plan on taking care of the whole world if you can't take care of yourself?"

He grinned. "That's what I have you and Luna for. I must admit, it's nice to have a family. I mean, I've had Sirius, but he's as damaged as I am. Maybe more so. I've always wanted a big family."

All annoyance evaporated at his earnest expression.

"I appreciate and treasure you two more than you know. And now we have Lily too. I don't remember the last time I was this happy. I don't believe I ever have been."

She abandoned her chair to curl up on his lap. He decided to keep the realization that his jealousy over Weasley's large family may have influenced his harsh stance as well as the thought that he'd let much of the world burn if it meant keeping his growing family safe to himself. No need to frighten her

"I love you Harry Potter."

"I love you too, Hermione Granger," he said. "You know, we should get married."

"Perhaps, but Luna and I will expect a much better proposal before we take it under serious consideration."

"Of course." He kissed the top of her head. They sat like that for several moments, until he broke the silence. "Alright," he said and released her with a sigh. "Time to work. Sit comfortably in your own seat."

This doesn't qualify?" She shimmied her hips in his lap.

"Oh it does, but I guarantee you'll discover a connection to something other than your other form."

With a smile that made him want to vanish their clothes and pull her back onto his lap, she went to her own chair.

"Get comfortable, close your eyes, and focus on the weight of the pendant around your neck. Feel the cool metal gradually rise to meet the temperature of your skin. Focus. Now feel the metal grow warmer. Feel it climb to the temperature of your animagus form and hold there. Let your mind hold the connection to the amulet with a light tether while the rest of your mind searches for your other form. You've connected to them already and the goddesses paved the way. All you need to do is take the path." Harry fell silent and into his own meditative state as he and his dragon appreciated the beauty of their mate.

While externally, Hermione appeared to do nothing at all, in her mind a whole new reality emerged. She found herself in a clearing amid a vast and ancient forest. Before her, a beautiful East Indian woman stood cloaked in flames.

"You look surprised," the woman said in a voice closer to birdsong than speech.

"I wasn't expecting - well, you."

The woman smiled, which only drew Hermione's attention to her eyes. Her humour shone evident there, but so lay unfathomable power.

"Did you think one of such tightly controlled logic and brilliance had an animal side, child?"

Hermione's face fell.

"Not to worry. Animal spirits are integral to the personalities of their hosts. I did not know that at the start. Even primordial forces can make a mistake every few millenia. One of my first champions had an otter. Of course, they didn't know that, but when I burned out the spirit to make room for the fragment of myself that inhabits your mind now. His sense of adventure and jovality died with the otter and made him quite an unsuitable champion. The restriction has limited my choice, but also makes me more closely consider whether I need a champion."

"So I can't become an animagus."

"No," the woman sang." You, my dear, are so much more. And once you convince yourself to accept our connection so we may blend in truth, you will be able to take my animal form. Which, might I add, is only the beginning."

The flames rose to shroud the woman. After a moment, a person sized bird stood before her. Her feathers were dark as night and when she ruffled them Hermione swore she caught a glimpse of starlight. Long tail feathers and the tips of her folded wings burned without singeing the flora all around. Intelligence and power still burned behind her dark eyes above a deadly red tipped black beak.

With tentative steps, she approached the bird. For a moment she forgot the entity before her was a goddess, Samsara if the goblin queen knew her mythology. Instead familiarity, security, and a sense of coming home engulfed her. This is who she had always needed. Her missing piece. A lost part of herself.

She stroked the bird's head.

A bright light engulfed the serene landscape and Hermione found herself tumbling back to her senses.

The mountaintop glittered in the blinding light, yet she'd never seen the world in such crisp detail. Before her, Harry stood in his dragon form. His beauty overwhelmed her as every shimmering white scale popped out in clear releaf. She could make out the beat of his heart through each vein in his leather wings.

Hermione's aura and personality had affected her form. Where Samsara's bird had been black and red, her's shone golden. Her largest wing and tail feathers were tipped crimson, and white hot flames licked up her back from her tail.

"Let's fly," Harry sent telepathically.

Responding came as naturally as breathing. "I don't like to fly." She examined the difference between thinking toward Harry as a human and true telepathy to keep herself from a melt down about her transformation into a telepathic bird wreathed in flame.

"Trust me. Brooms are nothing compared with your own wings."

"That's saying something from you. Didn't you play on Canada's quidditch team?"

A dragon's shrug became a disco ball of scattered light under the bright sun. "Not even the best brooms can replicate the control.

"Control you say?" Hermione stretched her wings. Flames bathed their 30 foot span.

With a chuckle that sounded like something halfway between a growl and a purr, Harry launched himself into the air. It took several deep breaths for Hermione to quell the logic that suppressed her instincts. Samsara was right. How could she ever have believed she would have an animagus form? The answer, ugly as it was, rose unbidden. Hubris.

With another breath and a screech of frustration that drove home the reality of her form, she jumped off the mountain top.

Powerful thrusts kept her from the jagged rocks below the sheer cliff face and soon had her soaring through the air after Harry. Air rippled through her feathers to make her heart thrum with the pure joy of absolute freedom. She didn't have to think about the beat of her wings or direction of her tail feathers. Flying felt more natural than walking and she moved with more grace than she'd been able to show after four painful years of forced ballet lessons.

Tears of crystalline joy fell to the ground thousands of feet below. Where they landed, dead plants revived and seeds took root that would reach their full potential in under a year, regardless of whether they were juniper bushes or sequoia trees.