Chapter 7 – Revelations
"I can't believe it. Dumbledore must be opening holes banging his head on the sides of his coffin right now."
"Ron ever heard of what befalls to those disrespecting the dead?"
"Oh, come on 'Mione don't you just see the irony of it? It was in front of us all along. If Dumbledore had just helped us clean up the drawing room, he would have recognised it at once and spared the…"
"If that locket had a form, it would be seating down lotus style smoking a large hookah laughing its head off through the glass-fronted cabinet with the incompetent fools we make."
"Enough with the self-castigation performance boys. Harry we might be needing some more books."
"Why doesn't he just buy you the whole Flourish and Blotts 'Mione? It will come cheaper than owl-ordering it piece by piece."
"We might be needing something less innocent than what they have for sale."
"I'm sure Borgin and Burkes runs an owl delivery service. I bet they sent complimentary lollipops along with every order above 20 galleons. Of course it's your responsibly to curse-proof your owl."
"Oh, you're so not funny."
"Am I now? How do you suggest we get the books?"
"The twins?"
"They don't owe me their soul, you know. They already paid me back the interest for the following 200 years when they kept watch outside the Shrieking Shack."
"I wish I could be there. I'd love to see that foul creature squirm."
"And who would keep your mum busy?"
"Ron, can't you switch to a non sadist, non morbid mode for a chance?"
"Should I remind you of the times that thing called you mudblood scum?"
"I'm half way through forgiving him right now. If Kreacher hadn't smuggled half the things we were throwing away and kept them safe in his boiler cupboard room…"
"…we would have to hunt down the person Mundungus Fletcher sold the locket to."
"Point is we have it. Problem is we can't pry it open. Solution is we get some books to tell us how."
"Oh, first we brew illicit potions and now we're ready to delve into illicit books? One hundred percent Hermione Granger here."
"Why don't you ask Remus have a go?"
"First of all it's silver. Secondly Sirius already tried last year and failed. And thirdly, we already agreed on not bringing anyone else into this."
"What about Bill?"
"Do you think Fleur would be particularly grateful if we sent your brother to St. Mungo's second time in a row, first being less than two months ago?"
"He survived. Not to mention everyone has been treating him like a war hero ever since. And to top it all, mum is at his constant beck and call. Last time she made me a truffle tart, Dead Sea was still sick and she's building Bill, Hansel and Gretel's candy castle on a daily basis. 'Would you like some apple-pie Bill?' 'Not really mum, I'm not in the mood.' Liberally translated into several slices hidden under four scoops of ice-cream covered with lashings of raspberry sauce and piles of chopped nuts. But no cherry on the top. He's on a diet."
Alas, nor Bill neither the twins were able to suggest any respectable course of action. They merely confirmed the fact that the locket was so heavily warded that only a wizard with deep practical knowledge of the Dark Arts could venture a try without endangering body parts or mental sanity on the way. Bill suggested a senior curse breaker at Gringotts, notion quickly dismissed judging by said wizard's current allegiances. Remus was of little help as he couldn't even come close to it. He offered various books that studied ancient wards on an academic level but gave no actual hindsight. Only the twins didn't seem to fall for the story of Hermione living up to the challenge of breaking into it just out of summer boredom, but they didn't pester her about it.
All four wizards though, independently agreed that had Albus still been alive or Snape still on their side, Hermione would have to seek out embroidery or mosaic making for a challenging hobby to keep herself occupied. Fact that gave Hermione Granger an idea. Idea that respectfully gave Ronald Weasley a headache. Which funnily gave Harry Potter peace of mind as he was kept totally ignorant of the actual conspiracy.