Disclaimer: I have never claimed to be JKR. Ever. In any form. Fiddling with her characters? Guilty as charged.

Hubris and Horcruxes

"Hey Hermione..." Ron sat on her bed in the hospital wing after drawing the curtain. "I brought you something. You'll never guess what it is. No guesses? Okay, I'll tell you. It's a Muggle newspaper. Ginny had the bright idea that I ought to read to you. She thinks you'll be so offended by the horrible grammar in it that you'll wake up to offer corrections."

He peered carefully at her face for some sign of movement. Seeing none, he sighed and started at the back, reading off some of the advertisements.

"Look at this," he snorted. "This bakery offers bread made of whole grains and raisin juice. Isn't the whole point of a raisin that it was a grape with the juice sucked out? Where do they get juice from a raisin? Must be a Muggle thing." He shook his head. "This paper is stupid." He tossed the paper in the nearest bin and wandered over to a window. "Hey, I can see Hagrid's hut from here. Did I tell you Hagrid got a new wand? He visited Madame Maxime–I think there's a bit of something going on there–and he got a new wand from a wand maker in France. He's even been joining us in D.A. training sessions to brush up on his spell casting."

Ron came back to the bed, kneeling on the floor so he could watch her breathing push the bed sheet up and down, reassuring himself that she was, indeed, alive. He chewed his lip, wondering if Madam Pomfrey had checked to see if Hermione had been attacked by a dementor. Madam Pomfrey had called in specialists and still no one could find anything specifically wrong with her. It had been several weeks already and there had been no changes in her condition.

"I wish it had been me instead of you," Ron murmured, not for the first time, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You'd have had it all figured out already. I don't know how we can win this if you don't wake up soon. Death Eaters have been attacking Muggles all over. The twins and Lee are selling and installing "security systems" on Muggle houses, which helps, but they could really use your help. And it's going to be Christmas in a few weeks. You don't want to miss that, do you?"

Ginny bounded into the small space, tugging the curtain open and ignoring Ron entirely. "Guess what I brought today, Hermy baby!" she said brightly, carrying a box. She pulled out a CD player that the twins had bewitched to run off magic. "I got the CATS Broadway musical soundtrack for you to listen to! Crookshanks helped pick it out. He really misses you, Hermione. I'm going to smuggle him in here so he can listen to the music with you. Be right back!" she chirped as the music began.

Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright,
And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul…

"Jellicle cats?" Ron squinted one eye in disbelief. "Is that some other name for kneazles?" He listened attentively for a few minutes before shaking his head. "Muggles are…" He gestured animatedly in a vain attempt to express a strong enough word for "peculiar." Preferably one Hermione wouldn't take offense to. Then again, maybe she needed to take offense at something.

True to her word, Ginny strode back into the hospital wing, toting Crookshanks like a fluffy ginger scarf draped over her shoulders. "Hermy, dahling, don't you adore my stole? Real fur and everything! With built in neck-warming and vibrating massage capabilities. Simply gorgeous, don't you think?"

Crookshanks leaped lightly to his mistress's bed and sniffed her from toe to head. He tickled her ear with his whiskers before settling himself on her chest. He purred loudly and began kneading the bed sheets.

He paused and mewed a soft welcome to his small companion. She had followed Ginny up to Hermione's room. One smooth, fluid motion brought her to his side where she greeted him before proceeding to inspect Hermione in the same fashion he had. She settled in the crevice between Hermione's arm and ribs, her front paws tucked under her furry white chest, looking for all the world like a nesting hen. The cats touched noses affectionately, their eyes half closed.

Ron glared suspiciously at the strange cat. "Do we know she's safe? What if she tries to suffocate Hermione when we're not looking or something?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "She's just a harmless cat. One of the Slytherin girls left her behind, the dear little thing. I think I should adopt her." She looked fondly and the petite feline and reached to scratch under her jaw. "What do you think, kitty, would you like to be a Gryffindor cat?" Ginny took the loud purring to mean agreement. "You'll need a proper name then. I can't keep calling you 'kitty.'"

Ron, who had been reading the back of the CD case, broke into Ginny's meditation for a good feline moniker. "Hey, there's a song on here about naming cats."

Ginny glanced at the title Ron pointed to before touching a button on the CD player.

The naming of cats is a difficult matter
It isn't just one of your holiday games
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three different names…

Ron snickered. "Who knew cats cared what their names are. I mean, they don't even come when they're called, so why bother naming them anything?"

"Cats are too independent to come when they're called," Ginny huffed. "You can request their presence, but they decide whether or not to grace you with it."

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo or Coricopat
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum
Names that never belong to more than one cat…

"Did you see that?" Ginny had noticed her tuxedo cat perk up her ears. "I think my kitty has found a name. Let's try that again." Ron shook his head in a gesture of impatience and irritation. As far as he was concerned, he'd already listened longer than necessary.

Ginny replayed the song and, sure enough, the cat perked up and swiveled her ears at the same point.

"Hm, you like one of the names on that line? Bombalurina?" Ginny tested. Judging by the cat's reaction, she must have hit upon a name the cat approved of. "So that's it then." Ginny grinned. "Though with a mouthful of a name like that, we'll shorten it to Rina, if you don't mind, and save the full version for special occasions."

Ron fiddled with the CD player, changing the song to Skimbleshanks, the Railway Cat.

"This song isn't much of an improvement." He paused, noticing a tiny throbbing feeling beginning in his temples "I can't listen to any more cat music." He patted Hermione's shoulder and headed for the exit. "I'll be back after awhile."

Ginny just shrugged and waved absently as he left.

Bombalurina's bright gaze fastened on her new mistress.

Ginny hummed along with the music. "I wonder if I would have a cat Animagus form," she muttered. "I definitely feel like I could curl up in a patch of sunshine for a nap." She looked enviously at Crookshanks, who had moved to the foot of the bed and rolled on his side, doing an impression of a full harvest moon. "It would be fun to be a cat. I remember Sirius telling stories of the things he did as a dog, and how he even thought differently as a dog…" She blinked suddenly, her mouth forming a perfect "o" of surprise. "Oh my goodness, I wonder if that would work on Hermione…" She patted the two cats on the bed. "I'll be right back, I just have to go grab a book!"

The two cats exchanged a smug glance.

Ginny returned with a book on animal transfigurations and began reading aloud to her silent friends.

The snip, snip, snip of McGonagall's boots on the floor alerted Ginny to the threat of an imminent visitor. "Oh, hello Headmistress." She quickly marked her page and set the book aside.

The stern professor's face relaxed minutely as she scanned the title. "Good of you to keep up on your studies, Miss Weasley, but you know cats and loud music are not allowed in hospital."

"Rather discriminatory, that." Ginny frowned. "Cats are better company than most people. Especially in hospital. Oh, and the book, yes, I was just reading to Hermione, actually. I know she'd hate to fall behind." She smiled winningly.

"Very good of you, Miss Weasley." McGonagall fixed her with a steely gaze. "But you need to lower the volume of the music." She looked at the two cats still comfortably ensconced on Hermione's bed. "The cats can visit for a short while longer. I'm sure Crookshanks has missed her." She looked pensive as she studied the unmoving girl on the bed. Her brow furrowed for a moment before she gave a curt nod to Ginny and turned on her heel to leave.

Harry had offered to help Lupin and Tonks get set up in the War Room for a D.A. training session. "Tonks sure likes weird shoes," he commented, observing the witch's fuchsia trainers.

Lupin shook his head. "You don't know the half of it. I swear, she has hundreds of them, in all shapes, colors and sizes."

"Sizes?" Harry asked. "Oh right, I suppose she can morph the size of her feet to fit the shoes she likes. No wonder she's clumsy. I suppose it is rather more challenging to walk when your feet are never the same size two days in a row."

Lupin looked startled for a moment before laughing. "Excellent point. I wonder if she's ever considered that." He gave Harry a conspiring look. "Why don't you suggest she narrow down her shoe collection to test that theory."

Harry shrugged, ambling across the room to the pink-haired witch. When he explained the theory, however, he gave Lupin all the credit.

"Thanks for thinking of me." Tonks shot a lethal glare in the direction of her smirking husband. "I'll have to take this up with our selfless professor whose only concern is my safety and well-being. And I'm sure his method of theory testing has nothing to do with the way he whines about not being allotted enough closet space. He seems to have a thing against my shoes. Rather the opposite of a fetish, actually. He claims some of my shoes actually cause him mental anguish." Tonks seemed to be talking to Harry, but her eyes were locked on the man across the room, and judging by the expressions crossing her face, they were having a whole separate, and thoroughly nonverbal, discussion. Lupin's eyes danced with mirth.

Harry grinned as he watched them. They seemed to enjoy bickering as much as Ron and Hermione. He supposed the making up bit had some appeal as well. And Lupin had tried to break things off with Tonks for awhile for noble reasons, just as Harry had tried to do with Ginny. Harry wondered if that meant he and his friends were adult enough to emulate mature relationships, or if the couple before him were immature enough to act like teenagers. When he saw Tonks stick her tongue out, put her thumbs on her temples and wiggle her fingers, he had to assume the latter. Still, it looked like fun when she sprinted away, Lupin in pursuit.

When Lupin caught her, Harry thought it prudent to give them some alone time. He decided to put a sign on the door and take the D.A. outside flying instead. Walking in on this kind of scene might be educational, but Harry was pretty sure it was not included in a McGonagall-approved curriculum. He quickly left the room, sticking a note on the door as he left for the pitch, summoning his broom on the way.

"Luna, can I practice a spell with you?" Ginny asked, having spent several days since her visit with Hermione studying ancient magic and transfiguration.

"What kind of spell?" Luna asked interestedly.

"Well, I was thinking of how you said Artemis had powers of mental healing, and how maybe I could harness some of those. And I was thinking about Sirius Black, who was an Animagus, and how he said his mind worked differently as a dog. I don't know if it'll help, but I thought maybe if we turned Hermioine into a cat, maybe it would let her mind come back." Ginny frowned. "Or something. Anything, really. Any reaction would be better than her just lying there."

Luna narrowed her eyes. "You do know," she said finally, "that you have to be pure to use any powers of Artemis."

"What do you mean 'pure'? You know I'm a pure-blood."

"No." Luna rolled her eyes. "Pure as in virginal."

"Oh." Ginny's cheeks flushed pink. "Well, that's alright, too. Now how do we do this?"

Luna nodded thoughtfully. "That explains a lot," she said vaguely, beckoning Ginny to follow her to the library.

"Sorry? What explains a lot?"

"It is a good idea to stay pure until Harry can defeat Voldemort, you'll be able to help him more that way."

Ginny blinked at Luna in confusion.

"Artemis was a maiden goddess, a hunter and fighter; defender of innocence and protector of children," Luna gestured vaguely. "For you to harness her energies–use her spells, essentially--you have to be pure."

"But didn't you say once that you thought Harry's mum had invoked her magic for the spell that protected him from Voldemort's killing curse when he was a baby?" Ginny asked. "As much as Harry resembles his father, I'd wager his wasn't a virgin birth."

"Yes. Mother's love is pure as well. But she was fighting for him, not alongside him. Mothers harness a different aspect of her powers, you see. Like your mum, knitting those wool jumpers. Wool is a symbol of Artemis, you'll remember. Well, as your mum knits, she thinks of you. She feels love and the urge to protect you. Those strong emotions translate to magic and are absorbed by the wool." Luna shrugged, as if it were common knowledge.

Ginny gave her friend a look of surprise. "Well, of course I knew she knitted them with love. I just thought she added warmth charms and things."

"She probably adds charms as well, for warmth and stain-repelling," she shrugged. "but the jumpers she makes for her children have a different magic than, say, one she knits for your dad or anyone else."

"So what was knitted into Hermione's elf hats?"

"Ambition, I suppose." Luna tapped her chin in thought. "It isn't like she was feeling any particular fondness for a certain elf. But that may be why Dobby likes them so well. He has rather unusual aspirations for a house elf."

Harry looked for Ginny on the Marauder's Map. He finally spotted her in the new all-school common room next to the library with Luna. He sighed. Their pranks for inundating and desensitizing Ron to their snogging had lost all appeal in the weeks Hermione had been in hospital. Not that they weren't still snogging in the occasional broom cupboard, but the humor in upsetting Ron was gone.

Moreover, since Ginny had been studying so extensively with Luna, her whole attitude had changed. She seemed to be avoiding him. Well, no, that wasn't quite right. She was preoccupied with whatever she and Luna were working on to help Hermione. Harry knew he was jealous and simply missed her. The fact that she no longer seemed interested in pursuing a more physical relationship had not escaped him either. She was still affectionate, but he wondered sometimes if she was losing interest in him.

He frowned. Ginny was just busy working on a solution, he told himself, and he ought to be working on another one. He looked for and found Ron on the map easily. He was with Hermione. Ron and Harry had taken to doing their homework in the hospital wing, thinking if Hermione could hear them talking about all the classwork she was missing, it might wake her up. Their classes had been going quite well, even without Hermione helping with their homework. After the intensive studying and extra work they'd done with Lupin and Tonks over the summer, they found their actual seventh year material to be quite easy. The teachers seemed less inclined to give long homework assignments as well, knowing the D.A. classes would implement and practice many of the skills they were teaching. Having combined classes made a difference too. The older students learned more thoroughly through mentoring younger ones, and the younger ones benefited from the one-on-one tutoring.

Harry cleared the map and put it away before heading for the hospital wing. On his way up the stairs, he met Ginny's cat coming down. He paused to scratch behind her ears. "Ginny neglecting you, Rina? I know how you feel." The cat purred loudly, rolling to expose her snow white belly. "Why don't you go find her and tell her she needs to take a break this evening." He gave her one last pat and she padded off.

"Hey Harry," Ron greeted from the doorway of the infirmary. "Talking to cats now too?"

"Hullo," Harry responded as he entered the room, glancing at Hermione for any change in her appearance. "No. Even though cats do hiss, it's only snakes I can understand."

Ron fiddled with the CD player. "I've already gone over our homework assignments with her, so now she can listen to the music her mum brought over." He pushed the play button.

Harry was surprised. "I didn't know Hermione was a Beatles fan."

"I think it's her dad's. Her mum said when Hermione was little, they would dance to this music. Are these Beatles related to Rita Skeeter?"

Harry laughed and gave him a brief overview of the group. Aunt Petunia was a Beatles fan.

"Well, they're better than Celestina Warbeck."

Harry squeezed Hermione's unresponsive hand. "Hi Hermione. I hope you don't mind if Ron comes to help me for a bit. We need to work with Bill on a bit of a project. We're almost finished I think, and then we'll be back to tell you about it."

Ron gave him a sideways look as they left the hospital wing, bound for Bill's office. "Why didn't you just say we're going to destroy the Horcruxes?"

Harry hesitated. "Well, I figure the real Hermione knew what we were doing with Bill, but if Voldemort is trying to possess her to spy on us, he won't. I feel awful suspecting anything like that, but that's why Dumbledore wouldn't teach me Occlumency and ordered Snape to do it instead. Dumbledore figured out that Voldemort was using this mental connection to try to get to him, through me. It made me wonder if he'd try it again."

Ron went pale. "You think he made her into a human Extendable Ear?"

Harry shrugged miserably. "I don't know. I doubt there's a test for that sort of thing."

"There are exorcism spells," Ron said after a moment of thought.

"I know, but what happens if she's not possessed and has that spell cast on her? Too dangerous. Maybe Dumbledore would've been able to see what's going on in her head, but I'm afraid having anyone else try could cause more damage. If it's even possible to use on an unconscious person."

Ron shook his head. "I already asked Lupin to try Legilimency on her and he refused. He thinks Voldemort used it against her to such an extent that her mind has to heal and it's a very slow process. He said even gently trying it could cause a massive setback and it wouldn't be worth the risk." Ron unconsciously rubbed his arms, tracing the scars from the Ministry of Magic battle. "Pomfrey said mental damage goes deeper than skin and bones, or something like that."

Harry shrugged. "We all know how huge Hermione's brain is. It takes awhile to heal something that big, that's all."

Ron nodded and tried to smile. "Physically, she's fine." He sighed. "I just want to…I dunno." He gestured helplessly. "I just wish I could be like that prince in her mum's fairytale book that could wake her up." He flushed, embarrassed.

Harry's brows shot up. "Hey, that's an idea, have you tried it?"

"Tried what?"

"Kissing her awake, like in Sleeping Beauty," Harry clarified.

"Erm, yeah." Ron was still pink. "Didn't work."

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. "Well, that was as good an idea as any."

"Really?" Ron said. "I felt kind of stupid about it."

"I'd have tried it," Harry shrugged. "It's not stupid if it works, right?"

"But it didn't work." Ron frowned.

"You sure you were doing it right?"

"Sod off, git." Ron punched his arm.

Harry rubbed his arm and grinned. "Well, if it worked, you wouldn't have thought it was stupid. Maybe it's a magic number. You have to kiss her eighty-four times to wake her up."

Ron raised a brow. "You don't think it's creepy to kiss someone who doesn't kiss back?"

"Well, what would you want her to do if the situation was reversed?" Harry asked.

Ron had a rather speculative gleam in his eye that made Harry snort and shake his head. "See? I highly doubt she'd mind some snogging, even if it's one-sided. When she wakes up, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to pay you back."

"Thanks," Ron said.

"For what?"

"For saying 'when' she wakes up instead of 'if.'"

"Well of course she'll wake up," Harry said with confidence he wasn't sure he felt. "This is a mental challenge for her. When has she ever lost a mental contest?"

Their conversation had carried them to Bill's office, and they knocked before entering. Harry refused to even touch the doorknob until he heard Bill's voice telling them to come in.

"Shall we move this experiment to the War Room?" he asked. "I think the walls might be stronger in there." He had the supplies and trophies ready in a small trunk under his desk. "Where's Lupin?"

"I'll get him," Harry offered, sending a Patronus message. He sent a message to Ginny via his watch, letting her know as well.

Bill followed them into the War Room, his manner brisk. He opened the trunk and assembled the items on a table near two small cauldrons. "Right. Now as we've discussed, we need a way to trap the soul fragment after breaking the spell seals on the object." He held up something narrow and white. "This is something Hermione was working on. She got two of the four finished."

"Is that a bone?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Bill confirmed. "It's the hollowed out femur of one of the unicorns Quirrell killed for Voldemort. Hagrid saved the bones in some blessing of foresight. It has a cedar plug as a stopper, and runes and designs carved around the outside to help draw the soul inside and keep it there. It's called a soul catcher, and was designed by Native American medicine men."

He moved over to the table. "Now, Harry and I have been working on this, and we know the spell and potion Voldemort used to regenerate his body required flesh, blood and bone. We're going to assume that he used a similar spell to seal the other containers for his Horcruxes. It was a stroke of brilliance and good fortune that Harry used a Basilisk fang to destroy the diary. Most times, a deadly weapon would not be required to "kill" a book, so it would not occur to anyone, and that's what Voldemort has counted on. But Horcruxes encase a soul, however small a fragment, and must be killed."

"So we could just use Avada Kedavra on these things and have done with it?" Ron looked intrigued.

"Well, no, not really," Bill explained. "First you have to understand that Avada Kedavra came from very ancient Aramaic magic. Originally, it was a healing spell. It is meant to work on something with a soft-tissue body, internal organs and a brain. If we tried it on these, they'd explode and probably cause all kinds of damage."

"How did Dumbldore destroy the ring?" Harry asked, apprehensively eyeing the objects in question.

"Well, we don't really know, but since he wasn't you," Bill said, "he could never have been able to kill Voldemort, and destroying that Horcrux nearly killed him."

"Because of the prophesy," Harry finished.

"Possibly," Bill quirked his lips in a half smile. "Even though Riddle made his Horcruxes before the prophecy was recorded."

"Okay, tell me what to do," Harry met Bill's gaze with firm resolution.

Bill nodded his approval. "First we need your blood."

"Why Harry's blood?" Ginny frowned. "Why can't you use mine?"

Bill looked at her thoughtfully. "I don't know..."

"Would it help or not?" Ginny asked stubbornly.

"It could," Bill frowned, stroking his jaw, voicing his thoughts aloud. "You've been one of his victims as well.

"Alright then…we've got blood of victims, willingly given, rather than enemy blood forcibly taken…bone from an innocent who gave him life is a bone from a unicorn he killed to drink its blood…flesh, well, Lupin insisted on giving that as a Dark creature turned to the light."

"What? No!" Harry cried in alarm. "No, there's got to be another way!"

"Relax, Harry," Lupin reassured. "It's not necessary for me to sacrifice any appendages. I simply had my tonsils removed." He handed a jar over to Harry. "Thanks for expressing so much concern on my behalf, however."

Harry just blinked at the jar he held gingerly by the lid. "You said tonsils, right? Not…something else that starts with a 'T'?"

Lupin's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. Then he caught a glint of humor in Harry's eyes and laughed. "No, they're definitely tonsils," he assured. "As emasculating as it was to be spoon-fed lemon ice for a week, I haven't given up anything I would regret. Besides," he indicated the jar loftily, "Those are much too small to be anything else."

Tonks chuckled. "Not to worry, Harry, your little potential future cousins are safe and sound."

"Ooh, we'll babysit!" Ginny crowed. "We always had so much fun when Bill would babysit. Well, the twins and I had fun, anyway…" she said thoughtfully.

"You three were awful," Bill shook his head. "Poor Ron. It's a wonder he turned out as well as he did, really."

"It's a wonder I survived, you mean," Ron retorted. "Once, they told me they could teach me to speak Troll. They had me screaming obscenities at Mum to show off my new skill. The look on her face…. Merlin, I can still taste that soap."

Harry chuckled, turning back to the matter at hand. With an obsidian flake, he nicked the vein in the crook of his elbow, collecting the blood in a phial. Tonks stepped up to heal the small cut and he turned to hand the obsidian to Ginny, who repeated his actions. Bill took the blood and murmured an incantation that caused it to glow white for a moment. The cauldrons already contained salt water, and as Harry poured half the phial in each, he watched the blood dissipate like smoke in the water. Bill handed him Lupin's jar and Harry lit flames under the cauldrons. When the liquid had warmed to the same temperature as the inside of his wrist, he added the tonsils. The liquid had been clear, but suddenly turned murky. As Harry stirred; seven clockwise turns and one reversed, it lightened to a silvery color.

"Now it has to sit for seven minutes," Bill instructed. "This next part is touchy. You have to drip Basilisk venom on the Horcrux until it forms a fissure. When it starts to sizzle, you know it's getting close to the soul piece inside, so you have to add the last drip at the same time you drop it in the cauldron. It should burn a hole through just as it hits the surface. The liquid will keep the soul bit contained. It will need to be heated to a simmer until the liquid is reduced by half. Be ready with the soul catcher." Bill brandished the unicorn bones. "You simply take the cedar plug out and dip it in the liquid, and it will draw the remaining liquid and soul bit inside. Then you put the plug back in and spell-seal it closed. Use a permanent Sticking Charm on the cedar plug and Unbreakable Charm on the bone. Any questions?"

"How am I going to do them both at the same time?" Harry asked.

"There should be a few seconds delay between them. One of them will sizzle before the other. I suspect the brooch will wear through first, as it's older and was one of the first he made. It is important to get them both done as simultaneously as possible, though, or the bits will try to find each other and seek vengeance. Or a new host. Either way, not a good outcome."

Ginny stepped forward. "I'll help you." She picked up a pair of dragonhide gloves.

"Thanks, but I don't know if that's a good idea. I'll let you know if I need a hand, but it might only be me that can do this without injury," Harry cautioned.

"So, we're not really destroying the soul bits then?" Ron asked shrewdly. "You're just transferring them into a new container?"

"No, it's a purification ritual," Bill said. "They won't exactly be destroyed, but they won't be Horcruxes anymore. You see, Voldemort would never suspect someone of trying to clean his soul, so his protective spells shouldn't be triggered."

"That explains why the snake venom destroyed the diary. He never thought a snake would be a danger to him. And while something violent would happen if anyone tried a Reductor or Killing Curse on the Horcruxes, they aren't set to detonate for simple ingredients."

"Kind of like the story of Achilles," Ginny mused. "Seems indestructible until you find out there's a weak spot."

"Almost exactly, yes," Lupin nodded. Adopting his professor voice, he spoke while watching Harry begin the procedure. "There are different myths associated with Achilles. The most common is that his weak point was his heel where his mother held him when she dipped him in the River Styx. But in Homer's Iliad, it was his pride, or 'hubris.' Hubris is hurting people, especially those weaker or less fortunate, for pleasure and superiority. Greek myths usually showed hubris resulting in fatal retribution."

"Five and a half minutes," Bill interrupted. "Start the venom."

"Too bad the Ancient Greeks didn't tell us exactly how to accomplish it." Ginny sighed, as Harry carefully begin dripping venom.

"You were right, Bill." Harry's voice was tight. "The brooch is sizzling first." Very gingerly, he picked the brooch up by the edges and held it just barely above the surface of the silvery potion. As the final drop of venom made contact, he dropped it into the liquid. There was a fraction of a second when everyone held their breath. Abruptly, the potion hissed and billowed out like a bubble with something trapped inside. The invisible force writhed and fought. Harry had averted his gaze as soon as he'd dropped the brooch in, turning back to the locket to finish the process in the second cauldron. Within moments, both cauldrons housed giant bubbles that looked like they each housed a pair of wildcats fighting in burlap bags. It was a fearsome and fascinating sight that should have been accompanied by blood-curdling screams, but oddly, was not. The tension mounted, amplified by the silence.

As the cauldrons steadily simmered, steam rose and the bubbles gradually shrunk down and became thicker, forcing the fighting phantoms within to retreat. Almost simultaneously, the bubbles collapsed, and the contents of the cauldrons turned dark blood red. As the cauldrons continued to steam, Harry measured the amounts left inside. When they reached the halfway point, the steam stopped and Harry plunged the open tips of the unicorn bones inside. The liquid was immediately drawn up, leaving nary a drop behind. Harry capped them both and hissed sealing spells.

Bill vanished the cauldrons, phials and Lupin's jar to the Hogwarts incinerator. Harry held the bones, unsure what to do with them.

"So these are what now, exactly?" he asked.

"The steam that rose was pure water and the only--well, I can't say 'good' so I'll go with 'neutral'--bits of Riddle's soul," Bill explained. "He wasn't pure evil, you know. No one is. The purification process broke down his soul, allowing any uncorrupted bits to escape with the steam. This broke the bonds the soul pieces had with each other, and everything else just sort of crumbled after that. What was left is some pretty nasty stuff, which should be neutralized by the potion. Trapping it inside the bone makes it permanently inaccessible. We're going to take one final step to prevent anyone from using these for any evil reason."

"Are we going to put them in the Mirror of Erised?" Harry asked.

Bill grinned. "Almost. Good guess. For this part, you need to call Fawkes."

"How?"

"Try whatever were you thinking of when you called him in the Chamber."

Harry closed his eyes, recalling the encounter with Tom Riddle. He recalled the stab of righteous anger at Riddle's arrogance, and his heart surged with loyalty and longing for Dumbledore's comforting presence. "Fawkes," he breathed, unintentionally projecting an image of the brilliant bird, wings aloft. He could hear and feel phoenix song thrumming through his veins.

A soft weight landed on his shoulder, brushing his cheek. Harry opened his eyes, looking up to greet the huge, gorgeous bird. "Hullo Fawkes," he whispered. Fawkes dipped his head to capture a stray tear that had escaped Harry's eye to slide under his glasses.

Fawkes trilled softly, a gentle note that seemed to help relieve the gaping wound Dumbledore's loss had left in Harry's chest. Usually, Harry was able to push the realisation aside, but seeing Fawkes had slammed it home. Dumbledore was truly gone. The phoenix's song soothed his pang of grief and Harry sighed, stroking along the bird's neck and back. "We all miss him."

Fawkes turned to survey the others in the room before turning back to Harry, looking pointedly at the two bones in his hand. "There are bad bits of Voldemort's soul in these," Harry explained. "Do you have a place to hide them, where no one can ever find them?" Fawkes bobbed his head. "When you're finished, maybe you could look in on Hermione. She's in hospital…we don't really know what's wrong with her. I don't know if you can help her or not, but she got hurt because of me…" Harry sighed. "It's really good to see you, Fawkes."

Harry imagined Fawkes smiled. There was a twinkle in his shiny black eyes that he hadn't noticed before as the large bird ducked its head. Harry offered up the bones and with a swift flutter and flash of flame; Fawkes disappeared.