Chapter Six - My Cup Runneth Over

It had been over an hour and Ron still wasn't back from his 'walk'.

Hermione was scanning every piece of parchment for any useful information in between casting lingering glances back to the mouth of the cave. She hadn't said anything apart from just after sunset when she lit a flaming torch outside the cave, meeting Harry's eye for the first time since they had got back from Borgin's, and gave a shrug.

"To help him find his way back."

Harry had been struggling to make dinner for them, he was beginning to regret not paying much attention to Ron when he did it, and had only managed to create boiling water with onions floating around in it. He was thinking of telling Hermione it was broth. He knew he wouldn't get away with that though and tried to remember how to grow tomatoes from nothing.

Just as Harry cleaned one of the plates from last night a loaf of crusty brown bread landed on it. Harry looked up and saw Ron pulling on a jumper, he looked as if he was quite cold from his walk in the woods, Harry saw Hermione put aside the scroll she was examining and get to her feet.

"Ron I'm so sor..." she didn't get to finish.

"Are you planning on putting anything in that onion stock Harry?" Ron leaned over the cooking pot.

"I admit it, I'm more useless than we first thought" Harry smiled.

Ron didn't smile back and Hermione was still standing, hugging her arms to herself and biting her bottom lip as she stared at his back.

"Look I don't really feel like cooking tonight so," Ron flicked his wand at an empty bowl, "Lactis! Confundo accelero!"

The bowl filled with milk that began to churn itself rapidly. Ron put his wand away and kicked off his shoes.

"That'll turn into cheese in about five minutes, you can make sandwiches if you want."

Harry looked back at the loaf of bread; it was still warm.

"You finally did it then, well done" he tried to iron the worry lines off his face but he didn't think he'd managed it that well.

"Yeah."

Ron was unfurling his sleeping bag and crawling inside.

"Ron, are you ok?" Harry caught his eye and forced him to hold his gaze.

"I'm fine," he nodded but couldn't even manage to fake a smile for them, "I could just really use an early night that's all."

Harry nodded and started slicing the bread. He noticed Hermione building herself up to say something to Ron and he hoped the two of them didn't get into an argument. She walked over to Ron's side and crouched down. She lowered her voice a great deal but Harry could still hear every word she said.

"I'm sorry Ron, I really didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, don't worry," Ron mumbled, Harry frowned, he sounded as if he really meant it.

"No it's not fine, I'm such a..."

"Hermione don't, it's fine. I just need to sleep."

"But," she seemed to see that Ron wasn't looking for a fight or an apology, just a break from having to think about his old problem rearing its ugly head and disrupting his sleep again, Harry heard her let out a sigh, "good job on the bread Ron, it looks perfect."

Harry chanced a glance back over at them and saw that Hermione was smiling a sad smile down at him as he settled down in his sleeping bag.

"We'll talk tomorrow ok?" she said before moving to stand up again.

Ron reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place at his side.

"Hermione wait, could you do me a favour?"

"Of course, whatever you want."

Harry strained his ears to hear Ron's whispered request.

"Can you put me to sleep please?"

She nodded and pointed her wand at him.

"Goodnight Ron, obdormio!"

A blue light emanated from the tip of Hermione's wand and Ron's shoulders relaxed and his arm dropped away from her. She looked across to Harry who hadn't realised he had been so obviously watching the two of them and frowned.

"Do you think, now that we've been to Borgin's like his subconscious wanted, do you think he'll sleep through?"

"I hope so," Harry said, "He needs a peaceful night."

Hermione nodded, as if Harry words had convinced her that a good long sleep was all Ron needed and then he would be back to his old self. She stood up straight and pointed her wand back down at him.

"Obtineo, compescor servo!" she saw Harry's quizzical look and shrugged, "Just to be sure."

Harry turned back to what was now a bowl of hard cheese and set about making some sandwiches for the two of them as Hermione returned to her stack of paperwork.

Ron might well be the only one of them to get a good night's sleep tonight.

He could've sworn he heard Hermione shouting something.

No he didn't. He didn't need to wake up. Nobody was shouting anything.

"Yes!"

That really sounded like her though.

"Small, gold, two handles and a badger...this is it!"

That sounded promising. She sounded as if she had found a horcrux. That would be good if she had wouldn't it? Wait...What?

"What do you find? Where did it?" Harry garbled as he forced his eyes open and sat up from his slouching position against the wall of the cave.

She was scrambling over to his side, her eyes alight and a long roll of parchment dragging along the floor behind her.

"I think I've found it Harry, Hufflepuff's cup, it turns up on this inventory of a dead wizard's possessions but never made it to the will when the stuff was divided up amongst the relatives."

Harry rubbed his bleary eyes.

"How does that constitute finding it Hermione? You just have a list of dark wizards you know don't have it don't you?"

"To the untrained eye yes," she said with an exasperated shake of the head as she sat beside him and draped the parchment across his lap and pointed to something scrawled in a different hand than the rest of the text.

"All artefacts not accounted for in Mr Lotterby's last will and testamentare to be put into the vault of Olive Lotterby in Gringotts bank and held until the said witch comes of age and can prove her bloodline to the Gringotts goblins by means of blood and magical testing."

Harry's brow furrowed as he re-read this amendment.

"So this Olive Lotterby got the cup when she turned seventeen then?"

Hermione looked victorious.

"There is no Olive Lotterby, she can't ever claim the contents of that vault because she doesn't exist Harry. The Lotterby blood line died along with the wizard who made this will, the wizard who didn't write this amendment, as it would become blatantly obvious to anyone fool enough to sit and read through this thing."

To illustrate her point Hermione jerked the parchment so it unfurled even further across the floor, Harry guessed it must be at least twelve foot in length, and he looked at Hermione's jubilant face once again.

"You read all of this?"

"Good thing I did too," she nodded, "and it's a very clever way to hide something that is never supposed to be found but essential to keep intact."

"How do you mean?"

"Think about it Harry, where's the safest place a witch or wizard could put anything valuable?"

"Gringotts."

"Almost impossible to break in, the only person that ever did it in our lifetime being...?"

"Voldemort!" Harry gasped.

"Albeit in the back of Quirrel's skull at the time but yes and only one person can ever access any particular vault in Gringotts bank. That person is the person named on the goblin's records unless other arrangements have been made by that person to allow others to access the vault with their permission and no such arrangements were made for Olive Lotterby."

"So," Harry needed to make sure he understood this correctly, "Olive Lotterby is the only person who can ever open the vault with the horcrux inside?"

"Correct."

"Olive Lotterby can only access the vault when she comes of age?"

"Again correct."

"Olive Lotterby will never come of age due to her failure to actually be born?"

Hermione nodded.

"Therefore nobody will ever be able to open that vault?"

"And nobody, but Voldemort, has ever been able to break into Gringotts in the first place to even attempt to open a vault that is impossible tobe opened."

Hermione's pride at having found the horcrux after hours upon hours of reading the dullest paperwork in magical history faded as she spoke those last few words.

"So what you're saying is that it's impossible to get to that horcrux to destroy it?" Harry asked, his own spirits taking a down turn.

Her shoulders slumped.

"So it would seem. But at least we know where it is eh?"

Harry smiled at her vain attempt to look on the bright side.

"Great job Hermione, that was way beyond perseverance, that was incredible."

She let the parchment drop to the floor and rubbed her eyes with an exhausted sigh.

"A lot of good it does us though," Harry followed her eyes as they drifted over to Ron's shape, as he lay still, encased in his sleeping bag.

"Has he woken?" Harry asked.

"No, not in either kind of way, it seems like this was what he was trying to show us."

Harry lowered his head.

"I'd still like to know what was trying to show it to him."

She nodded and began to roll up the absurdly long scroll of parchment.

"Do you think he knew," Harry turned to Hermione as he asked the question, "that he wouldn't do it tonight?"

She stared at Ron thoughtfully.

"Maybe, he probably hoped more than anything that he'd get tonight off, I'd like to think that's why he wanted to go straight to bed as soon as he got back."

Harry gave Hermione a smile of reassurance and put an arm around her shoulder.

"That's definitely why Hermione, he knows you weren't being nasty before, he knows you too well to think that."

"I still can't believe I said it, it was so thoughtless of me."

Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, that's supposed to be his thing isn't it? If he's mad about anything I reckon it's that you stole his gimmick!"

They laughed before crawling into their own sleeping bags and wishing each other a good night. Harry couldn't see her face but he knew that she was watching Ron sleep.

Harry drifted off almost immediately with dreams of daring break-ins at Gringotts bank peppering his sleep until morning.