Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in the HP Universe.

AN: Thanks to all of you who followed, favoured and reviewed. Your support means a lot to me, and your reviews made me smile all the time.

Many many thanks and hugs to my wonderful and brilliant beta a-bit-of-madness.

Have fun reading.

On with the story.

Chapter 12: Hermione

Dear Hermione

To write this letter to you, to try to explain what is happening, is one of the scariest things I have ever done.

Where should I start? What can I tell? Because I can't give you all the details, some I don't know, some I don't understand, and some I don't want to tell.

Let's start with the fact, that Dumbledore has hidden the truth of why Voldemort killed my parents. The prophecy Voldy wanted from the Department of Mysteries was about us - him and me.

According to it, I am the only one who can defeat him. No one can live while the other survives… that's literary.

Dumbledore told me after he brought me back from the Ministry. Right after I lost Sirius, right after I somehow managed to throw out Voldy as he tried to possess me.

I was so lost afterwards, numb and afraid. I didn't know how to tell you. How could I? How could I explain to you that my days were numbered? I have never been under the illusions that I somehow could beat Voldemort. He is so much more powerful than me, has so much more experience and knowledge.

I always figured Dumbledore had a plan, even if I didn't understand it, I always believed in him. And then he tells me he believes my special power, the one with which I'm to defeat the darkest wizard of our time, is love.

LOVE?!

How in the name of Merlin could love help me defeat Voldy? But at that point I still believed in Dumbledore, believed he had a plan that I just didn't understand.

The isolation here at the Dursleys gave me a lot of time to think, though, and now I realize that I was wrong.

I have to confess, I did something incredible dangerous and foolish. Don't be angry with me, Hermione. Everything played out nicely in the end.

I told you Voldy tried to possess me in the Ministry and you remember that he used our unusual connection a lot the last school year. So I decided to use it too. I went into his head, it wasn't even hard to do. I learned so much about him, about our connection through my scar. Yes, I found out what the connection actually is.

Voldemort had built himself a safe net to prevent his own death, my scar is - accidentally - part of it.

And now comes the part where you will certainly want to scream at me. I destroyed his safe net, not to defeat him – which would mean kill him – no! No, I made him sane again.

The safety net he had built was made out of parts of his soul that were stored in objects, which led to his insanity and dehumanization. I found a way to destroy these objects and give the soul shards back. Now I only have to sever the connection between my scar and him. Then only Nagini is left, who carries a soul piece. If Tom Riddle is a threat to the wizarding world you know what to do.

The fact that I destroyed Lord Voldemort is hopefully enough for the prophecy. Tom Riddle lives, but the insane dark wizard does not. Maybe it was foolish - who even knows what a sane Voldemort might do - but I had to do it.

Dumbledore always talks about choices, and that the easiest ones are not always the right ones. I decided to give Tom Riddle another choice. A chance he never had been given, and it was certainly not the easy choice, but everyone deserves second chances.

But even if it is enough for the prophecy, the wizarding world, Dumbledore and Riddle will never leave me alone. They will demand more, they always do. Or they will condemn me.

I am tired, Hermione. So tired of being me.

I didn't know my name till I went to primary school. I was so happy to learn that I had one then, but in the last years, I have learned to hate the name Harry Potter.

I don't have the strength anymore to be me.

I made a difficult decision, now that my role is finished. I'm going to take a break from being Harry Potter.

I will miss you, Hermione. You are the sister I never had. Without you, Ron and I would never had survived our first year. You were always there for me, even when nobody else believed me. I hope you know how much that meant to me.

I could always count on you, and I was only as brave as I was because I knew I had you to catch me if I fell.

You are the brightest witch of our generation, brilliant, hard-working, kind-hearted and brave. You deserve the world, take it by storm. Never let someone tell you something different.

But you are also quite scary, I will forever remember Malfoy's face when you punched him. I never wanted to make you angry at me, but I know after this letter you certainly will be and for this, I am sorry.

I know that I am being frustratingly vague, but I have the greatest respect for your intelligence. If you knew my plan, you certainly would have interfered and convinced me not to do it, and I fear that I would relent.

I have to do this though. Please don't hate me for disappearing. I'm tired, tired of the expectations of the wizarding world. I need a break. I know this sounds like a goodbye, but no goodbyes are forever.

I love you.

Harry

For a moment Hermione only stared at the parchment she was gripping in her hands. Her normally analytical mind was in chaos and the letters blurred in front of her eyes. A hand on her shoulder startled her back into reality.

"Hermione? Is everything alright?"

She looked up to see her mother standing by her side, her expression concerned.

Hermione's throat was too dry. Picking up the teacup her mother had placed beside her, she took a gulp. "No. Ron is right to worry about Harry. This," she gestured at the parchment, "is a letter from Harry. The content… it worries me. Something is definitely not right. But not only the content is disturbing, the way it is written… Mum I don't know what to do." She slid the parchment to her mother, who sat beside her and started reading.

"He is deliberately vague, and I know – I feel it – he plans to do something incredibly stupid because he thinks he has to. That's Harry, if an idea got stuck in his head it is hard to convince him not to do it, even at the cost of his own wellbeing. He is too impulsive and reckless, he doesn't always think everything through. And now he is stuck at the Dursleys, with nobody who gives a damn about him and after he had lost his godfather, he is definitely not fine. He wasn't fine when we got back from Hogwarts." She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop, there were just too many things happening in her head

"He tried to hide it, but I know my best friend. He was grieving and showed signs of depression. Who knows what the isolation did to him. Mum, what can I do, he is my best friend! He needs me and I don't know what I can do!" Hermione clenched her fists in frustration and helplessness.

Her mother placed the parchment aside and gently loosened her fists.

"You are an intelligent girl, Hermione. Whatever it is, you will figure it out and we will help you. I do understand your concerns; the overall tone of the letter doesn't promise something good. The moment your father comes home, we will drive you to Ron's and stay and talk with his parents about what we can do. Perhaps there is something Harry revealed in his letter to Ron that he didn't do in yours. Till then, pack what you need and read the letter again, perhaps after calming down some things will make more sense. Sometimes the meanings hidden between the lines reveal much more than the actual words."

Hermione nodded, picked the parchment up and got up to walk out of the kitchen, her mother's voice stopping her in her tracks.

"Didn't you say Harry is living with his relatives. Are they magical?"

She turned around. "No, they are not magical. Why?"

"Do you know where they are living? Perhaps you could find out their address or telephone number and call?"

Hermione's head whipped around to stare at her mother wide eyed. "Mum, you are a genius."

Her mother blinked at her in surprise, but Hermione was already hurrying out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two steps a time. How could she have forgotten that Harry had given her the Dursleys telephone number years ago? She rummaged in her desk drawer, till she found the small strip of parchment with a few numbers scribbled on in Harry's familiar handwriting. Sighing in relief that she hadn't thrown it away, she rushed back down the stairs.

Back in the kitchen she picked up the telephone, punched in the numbers and waited, biting her fingernails.

It rang… and rang… and rang…

But nobody was picking up. Trepidation settled into her stomach.

Yes, it could be that they all went out for a family afternoon or perhaps even a holiday, but she knew that they never would take Harry with them. He never had said it outright, but he had mentioned enough for her to know that the Dursleys didn't count Harry as family and vice versa. And somehow, she didn't see the Dursleys changing suddenly.

The dial tone still ringing in her ear, Hermione considered her next steps. Her mind finally calming down, the initial confusion and panic disappeared now that her mind had a goal again. This was no different than the mysteries they had solved at Hogwarts and she was good at that.

So, what was next? Gathering intelligence.

She looked at the crumbled letter she still held in her hand. She would pack and read the letter again, as her mother suggested. Her father would be back in less than an hour. It would take them a few hours to reach the Burrow but once she was there, she could talk with Ron, let him read her letter and read his letter. She would go from there.

From the Burrow they could even fire call Professor Dumbledore if needed. Talk with him about what Harry meant with the safe net he had mentioned in his letter, talk about the prophecy.

Hermione had always had the greatest respect for Professor Dumbledore, but now a hard and acidic feeling settled into her stomach. How could the Headmaster think it was a good idea to tell a traumatized teenager who had lost his father-figure that he had to kill or be killed?

Knowing that anger would not help her or Harry, she sighed and replaced the handset.

But the unanswered dial tone still rang in her ear for a long time.

Harry could hear the telephone ringing down in the kitchen and was wondering who would call. Most of the Dursleys acquaintances certainly knew they were away for a few days.

For a brief moment he considered breaking out of his room and answering the call, it would be nice to hear a human voice beside his own, even if it was only a salesperson, but he discarded the idea immediately. First, he wasn't even sure if he would manage breaking out, the Dursleys had locked all the locks on his door; second, the call was definitely not for him. Who would even call him?

Then he remembered that he had given Ron and Hermione the telephone number for Privet Drive ages ago. Save the one disastrous try from Ron in the summer after second year they never had tried to reach him that way.

His heart ached to hear his friends' voices, but no, it couldn't be one of them, and it was better that way. He knew his conviction would waver if he had the chance to talk to them, but the thought that perhaps one of his friends tried to reach him after reading their letters made his throat constrict.

He turned around on his bed, put the pillow over his head and tried to sleep, despite the bright afternoon sun shining through the window. He was so tired of everything.

The telephone rang for a long time.

Ron had been nervous since he had sent the letter to Hermione. He couldn't sit still, so he had helped his mother in the house and the garden without complain. He had gotten a few strange glances from Mrs Weasley and Ginny because of it, but he couldn't care less.

The air felt charged, like before a huge thunderstorm. The moments before Harry had returned from the maze during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament or when they had wandered down the dark halls of the Department of Mystery had felt similar.

Something was going to happen, something big, and it would change everything.

He may not have the analytical, logical intelligence Hermione possessed or the instinctual, intuitive intelligence Harry had, but he was not stupid. He practically could see the chess pieces moving, but he couldn't see the whole board and therefore nothing made sense so far. He wasn't even sure anymore who were players, who were pieces, and which moves had been made.

What was the purpose of those letters?

What did change now that Lord Voldemort was gone? And how would the new player Tom Riddle behave?

The vagueness of Harry's letter drove him crazy.

And there was still the lingering unease when he thought how Harry had described the connection between him and Riddle. He was definitely missing parts of the puzzle and it unnerved him and made him angry. Angry that Harry, his best friend, was planning something which he was hiding from him; and it worried him immensely. If Harry felt the need to not tell him, he planned something extraordinary stupid and dangerous, which – in case of Harry – normally meant that his life was in danger.

Ron knew Harry had problems with trusting people - he had learned that lesson in fourth year, and he knew how difficult it was to get his trust back.

That he now decided to take action without talking with someone about it, not trusting others to understand and accept his plan, was a bad sign.

Hopefully Hermione had gotten his letter and was on her way.

Walking nervous circles in his bedroom Ron nearly didn't hear his mother's voice.

"Ron, your father is here, and you brothers will arrive shortly. Come down please." Her voice sounded strange, like she tried to conceal a waver or shaking in her inflexion.

Frowning, Ron walked down the stairs into the kitchen, where his father was sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea, looking tired, anxious and stricken all at once.

"Dad? What happened?" Nobody who had seen his father's expression could deny that something definitely had occurred.

Mr Weasley shook his head and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. "Not now Ron, I don't want to tell it more than once. Let's wait till your brothers are here." His voice was calm despite his obvious state of shock.

As if they had heard him, the floo flared and Fred, or was it George? – Ron never had managed to tell them apart when they were not both in the same room – stepped out, directly followed by his twin a few seconds later.

Before somebody could even say hello there was a knock on the door and Bill stepped inside, greeting their father with a nod and their mother with a kiss on the cheek, he sat down looked around the room.

"I can guess what this is about – " He began but Mrs Weasley held up her hand to interrupt him.

"Everyone sit down, we will wait till Charlie is here. George could you please go outside and call for Ginny? She should be at the pond." She placed several teacups and a teapot on the table. Ron registered that she didn't say anything about Percy, despite that she had insisted to write him.

George left the kitchen shortly and returned only moments later with Ginny, who looked around the room in surprise and alarm. Ron realized with sadness that his little sister immediately jumped to the conclusion that something had happened. The war – even if it hadn't broken out on a large scale for now – had changed her too.

Bill cleared his throat. "So, Charlie is also coming from Romania?"

Mrs Weasley nodded. "Yes, he had planned to come in two days to spend at least two weeks of the summer holidays with us. Your father managed to make an international floo call and asked him if he was available earlier. A colleague of his was kind enough to exchange Portkeys with him. He should arrive shortly."

Nobody actually asked why everyone should gather today, but Ron saw the glances his parents exchanged, and knew it wasn't only about the letters. He recalled the content of Harry's letter. He had given You-Know-Who his sanity back and Ron had the suspicion it was linked to whatever had rattled his parents.

The door opened and the unmistakable short and stocky form of Charlie entered the kitchen. Once he greeted Mr and Mrs Weasley and hugged each of his siblings, the exception Bill, who got a friendly slap on the back, he sat down. Silence hung over the kitchen for a brief moment.

"So, what's up?" Fred asked, looking between his parents and Bill.

Mr Weasley sighed, visibly pulled himself up and started explaining in a flat, emotionless tone. "Today an emergency Wizengamot meeting had been called during which an old law was used to pardon a wizard who had lost his body once and was brought back a year ago. He was found innocent of the crimes which were done before his resurrection and parts of the crimes since he got his body back, due to insanity, which he claimed to have been for the last decades because of an accident. He claims he only regained his mind a short while ago. That's the official statement the Ministry staff members were given late this afternoon. The wizard's name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, formally known as… Lord Voldemort." He stumbled shortly over the last name.

Silence followed his words. Most of the Weasley's looked stunned, Ginny was definitely horrified while Bill had a grim expression. Ron sighed audibly and closed his eyes, it seemed whatever reckless stunt Harry had tried had been... successful. Riddle was now official innocent and claimed to be sane again, whatever that meant. Not that Ron had doubts that whatever scheme Harry had thought of would have been successful, they always were successful in one way or the other.

When he opened his eyes again, he was met with the surprised looks of his family. His reaction had not been overlooked.

"Ron?" His mother was looking at him expectantly, demanding an explanation.

He sighed again and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I did read my letter already. To make it short, Harry told me that he found a way to destroy Lord… Voldemort by rebuilding his sanity." He wasn't sure what Harry wanted his parents to know, should he mention the prophecy? The safety net? The connection via his scar? As he didn't know what Harry had written in their letters, he decided against it.

"Ron! I told you that we would read them all together. What is this about Harry returning You-Know-Who's sanity?" Mrs Weasley voice rose with every word and only the reassuring hand of her husband's hand on her arm kept her from standing up.

"I –" Ron started but George interrupted him. "Wait! What is this about letters?"

Mrs Weasley sighed and reached into the pocket of the apron she was wearing, producing the pile of letters.

"Ron and I found these around lunchtime. They are all from Harry, one for each of us. As this goes against every typical behaviour of Harry, I decided it would be better we read them all together, in case he did hide something in them, and we would miss the message if we only know the content of one letter. Your father agreed with me, but it seems Ron stole his when I was not looking and read it already." She looked at him in disappointment briefly.

Everyone else was staring at the pile on the table.

Mr Weasley ran a tired hand over his face, then looked at his family with a determined expression. "It seems Harry had something to do with the happenings today at the Wizengamot, even if indirectly. If he really brought back Y… Riddle's sanity, he certainly had his reasons and believed it to be the best way to proceed, but as we don't know what exactly transpired in the Wizengamot and how Harry is involved it is best we read these letters now. Tomorrow morning Professor Dumbledore called an Order meeting, and as every one of you got a letter, you will all attend." He stopped his wife before she could open her mouth completely. "Yes, Molly, everyone. Something tells me that the letters and the appearance of Riddle today are only the beginning. Now, I don't demand you hand over the letter addressed to you for others to read, but I want you to share with us the contents."

It looked like Mrs Weasley wanted to protest and demand that she got to read all the letters, but her husband's expression stopped her again. "The letters are addressed to every one of us, exclusively, therefore they are private. Now, before we read the letters. Bill? You also knew what had happened today?" He addressed the oldest of the Ron's brothers.

"Not exactly what had happened at the Wizengamot, but I was at Gringotts when a high priority client came in. I heard enough to know that the Slytherin Lordship was successfully claimed at the Ministry shortly before, and the client – Lord Slytherin – wanted to visit his newly inherited vaults. I got a glimpse of him, and from afar he looked like a man in his mid-thirties, perhaps forty, but not older. As we only know of one descendant of Salazar Slytherin, I assumed it had something to do with the rumours of the Wizengamot meeting. How however You-Know-Who could have legally claimed the Lordship I didn't know. I already got the information that we have an Order meeting tomorrow and would have mentioned it then." Bill leaned back with arms crossed in front of his chest.

The news was digested in a heavy silence, nobody knew what they should say, nobody knew what the unpredictable events even meant. With another heavy sigh Mr Weasley began handing out the letters.

Before they could even open them though, there was a short quiet knock on the door. Had the kitchen not been utterly quiet, nobody would have heard it. They exchanged looks as Bill slid his wand into his hand and went to open the door.

The man standing behind it made everyone gasp, and Mrs Weasley's hands trembled visibly.

"Percy?" It wasn't clear who said it.

Percy stood there, shoulders hunched as he tried to avoid everyone gazes. "I –" He gulped. "I got your letter and I… I wanted to say, I am sorry, I was an idiot." The last part was barely a whisper.

"Oh Percy." Mrs Weasley jumped out of her seat and enveloped her wayward son. "It doesn't matter what happened as long as you are here again."

When Ron caught Percy's gaze as he looked over the shoulder of their mother, he frowned at him, trying to show him his whole disdain over his brother's actions. He remembered quite well the letter regarding Harry he had gotten from his brother and the grief he had caused their parents.

Percy averted his gaze quickly.

Ron glanced at his other brothers and saw the nearly murderous glint in the twins' eyes. They wouldn't forgive him just because he came back and said sorry either. A simple sorry wasn't enough.

"So, what changed your mind?" Fred asked with a hard voice. Percy flinched and Mrs Weasley turned around, glaring at the room in total.

"No, Mum, we need to know. Family is everything to us. He threw us away and now he comes crawling back with a sorry and everything should be fine?" It was Ginny who nipped the upcoming tirade in the bud, to the astonishment of most of the kitchen. That was the second time Mrs Weasley had been stopped before she could even begin one of her famous rants. Normally, they simply let her go and tried to outlive the storm.

That sweet little Ginny was the one to stop their mother, with a voice clearly expressing that she took no arguments, was a surprise, at least to the Weasley parents and the older siblings.

Ron mentally snorted, none of them had seen what Ginny had done in the Department of Mysteries. Oh, the twins had witnessed her performances in the DA, but they didn't know how tough she actually was, hadn't seen her go against adult Death Eaters. Again, Ron was sad to see that her childhood was overshadowed.

"I… I heard what happened at the Ministry a few weeks ago and what happened today at the Wizengamot… and now You-Know-Who is walking around freely… and I… I was an idiot and a pompous prat and…" Percy stammered.

"And a Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron." George finished for him.

Percy looked down. "Yes."

"Then we are clear." And with that, George settled down at the table again and started opening his letter. For a brief moment everyone was unsure how to behave, then they followed while Mrs Weasley explained shortly to Percy why they had written him and gave him the letter addressed to him.

Ron observed his brother as Percy stared at his name written in Harry's horrible handwriting and could guess quite accurately what he was thinking. By the horrifying and guilty look on his face, he remembered the letter he had to written to Ron quite well.

Ron settled at the table, pulled his own letter out of the pocket of his trousers – where he had kept him, reading Harry's words over and over again - and read it again. The content was still frustrating, and he really hoped Hermione was already on her way.

Draco sneezed as he carefully turned another page of the very old book he held open on his knees. His father would be horrified to see him sitting on the floor, but the desk and chair he had used had filled up more and more with books over the day.

Were Lucius to look into the library he would probably have a heart attack. Numerous books laid aside, more than one open at random pages, while others were piled in high, unstable looking towers, and stacks parchment littered the floor. Hidden behind all the chaos, Draco turned another page, frowning. The text before him was not old, it was ancient, written in Runes so old that some of them weren't taught at Hogwarts and he had problems translating parts of it.

Consulting an equally old book on the meaning of Ancient Runes his eyes widened, then a grin spread over his face.

"I've got you."

Grabbing a parchment from a nearby book tower – which promptly fell over – he picked up the quill he had placed behind his ear in fear of losing it in the chaos and started writing.

Potter may have shown true Slytherin traits using the Truth and Oath Parchment, and perhaps he should have been in Slytherin, but Draco came from a long line of Slytherin ancestors and was nothing if not determined. That he had the vast resources of the Malfoy library at his disposal certainly played into his hands as well.

Reading the passage, he had translated from the old book about ancient treaties, a satisfying smirk settled on his features.

Yes, based on oath the reader had to agree to, Truth and Oath Parchment could be practically unbreakable. The reader couldn't betray the oath he had sworn, and if he had been sworn to secretary – as Draco had – he couldn't willingly tell, or write, or show someone via the mind arts the content. Not even under the Imperius curse. The moment he tried, occlumency shields would hide the content and Draco would feel like his own blood was trying to burn him from the inside, while his magic would turn against him. The description in one of the books about such oaths had been horrifyingly detailed.

Therefore, an oath sworn to secrecy on the parchment was practically fool proof, but the crux was that if the content was forcefully ripped out if the reader's mind, it didn't count as willingly. It came down to the willingness - or better unwillingness - of the reader.

Draco winced when he thought about the pain someone from whom the content of a Truth and Oath Letter was forcefully taken, would be in. If he tried to go down this way, he had to put up a fight, a struggle good enough to satisfy the oath that he was not giving up the knowledge willingly. That meant it had to be literary ripped out of his mind. Which also meant he needed a Legilimence powerful enough to rip the oath shields apart.

He sighed. Now he knew the weakness of the oath, he theoretically had a plan, but how could he provoke his godfather enough to not only use Legilimency against him but break through his own rudimentary shields AND rummage through his mind to find what he needed to see? He had a headache only thinking about it.

"Potter, I hope you are bloody worth it."

AN: Thanks for reading, let me know what you think.

Many thanks for a-bit-of-madness for helping to improve my grammar and spelling.

First published: 16th of February 2019