AN: I forgot to upload this chapter before I went out of the country a month ago. I just got back from Manila last week but work was hectic that I couldn't get ahold of my laptop. Sorry for the long wait. To make it up to you, here's a short Lucius backstory at the beginning of this chapter and it's not a happy one.
CHILDHOOD LULLABIES.
Lucius stood in the middle of his father's study still in his Hogwarts' uniform. He had just come home when the house-elf informed him that Abraxas wanted to see him immediately. The fact that his mother wasn't there to greet him when he had stepped inside the Manor was already a bad omen and Lucius could already guess what the issue was about.
His father wasn't happy with his O.W.L. score in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Exceed Expectations?" Abraxas threw a copy of his son's O.W.L. scores on the floor in front of him. "Of all the subjects to get an E, you had to choose Defense Against the Dark Arts! You disappoint me. What was it, Lucius? Was your professor incompetent? Or were you slacking in your studies?"
"I-I-I wasn't—"
"So it was your professor then? Because I can have her sacked immediately. I would make sure she would be replaced by someone much more capable."
Guilt washed over Lucius. Professor Rothes had been an exceptionally good teacher. She had a very good understanding of the Dark Arts and wasn't hesitant to delve into it more with the students. She was also patient and had this aura that made people like her. No, the problem wasn't with the professor. It was with Lucius himself.
He had messed up the practical exams.
He had performed extremely well in casting counter-jinxes and defensive spells, but when the last part of the exam came, Lucius froze. Two years ago, his boggart appeared as him being a beggar on the streets of Knockturn Alley but now when Professor Rothes had opened the cabinet containing the creature, it suddenly transformed into his father holding a whip. The Abraxas-boggart slowly approached Lucius, its arm raised as if to strike him and Lucius couldn't move. His entire body was stiffly frozen except his heart which was beating wildly against his chest. He couldn't raise his wand let alone talk.
The professor had given him a chance by asking him to perform the Patronus charm but he was still reeling from his boggart to even think of a happy memory. And when he had tried to cast it, nothing came out of his wand.
Professor Rothes gave him a worried look and asked him if he wanted to talk but Lucius brushed her concerns off and stormed out of the exam room back to the Slytherin dungeons. He hadn't given it much thought until now.
"It was me, father. I promise I will do my best with my N.E.W.T.S.," Lucius had hung his head in shame.
Abraxas tutted and stepped closer to his son. "That won't do, Lucius. It seems your education at Hogwarts alone isn't enough."
Lucius's insides were trembling with fear and he glanced at his father who was observing him, assessing him from head to toe.
"Father, please," he pleaded. "Professor Rothes has been—"
"Silence!" the back of his father's hand had made contact with his left cheek and Lucius staggered back, eyes glassy from unshed tears. "You're a disgrace to the Malfoy name. Pathetic and weak. If your mother is still capable of bearing me another son, I would've gotten rid of you sooner."
Abraxas then gripped his son's arm tightly enough to bruise. Lucius didn't have the time to register what was happening and was suddenly disapparated side-along by his father.
He landed knees first onto the hard concrete pavement, the late afternoon sun boring down on him uncomfortably hot and stifling with humidity. Lucius realized they were on the outskirts of a Muggle village and dread instantly filled his entire body. Nothing good would come out of this venture, he was sure.
"Get up," Abraxas hissed at him before striding confidently into the village. Lucius trailed after him dutifully until they stood in front of a house—if you could call the small thing a house. A copse of sycamore trees surrounded it, obscuring its windows from view and the nearest neighbor was two houses farther away. It was convenient for what was coming next.
His father pulled out his wand and blasted the door open. Lucius followed him inside and saw two terrified Muggles standing by the tattered couch.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the man asked. He pulled the woman he was standing with behind him. "If it's money you want, we have none."
Abraxas scoffed at the insinuation that he was a thief. In a few seconds, the two Muggles were suddenly kneeling on the floor, bounded and silenced by him. He then turned to Lucius who was still gaping at the captives in shock. "To properly understand the Dark Arts and protect yourself from it, you need to learn first how to cast it. Learning how to wield it against your opponent will give you an insight on how to cast a counter-curse. Now, show me what you have learned."
"But father—"
"I will only ask once, Lucius," Abraxas cut him off with a growl. "Begin."
Lucius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had no choice. It was either them or him. For the next hour, he had perfectly cast every dark spell he knew, alternating between the man and the woman. By now, they were huddled on the floor, bloodied and gasping for air while Lucius was out of breath, sweat trickling at the back of his neck. He then looked at his father who was standing to the side for approval.
"Very well," Abraxas nodded proudly. "Finish them now so we can go home."
The temperature plummeted from uncomfortably warm to freezing cold in an instant.
Lucius was no stranger to murder. He had seen Abraxas and his fellow Death Eaters do it more than once when his father brought him Muggle hunting sometimes, but he had never done it himself.
"I, I, I…" Lucius stuttered, finding himself wholly unable to make his brain function long enough to come up with a response.
Sensing his hesitation, Abraxas walked to where Lucius was standing and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I thought I taught you better. You're the only Malfoy heir. Your only purpose is to bring about the glory of the family name, to preserve our pure bloodline." He sensed his father lean forward, mouth next to Lucius' ear as Abraxas whispered, "Remember, there is no place in your life for anything like Muggles and their filthy blood."
Lucius had always wondered how it felt like to end a life, to snatch away something that wasn't yours. His father said that there were many ways to kill but the quickest and most used one was the killing curse. There were others who preferred to torture Muggles to death, using all their knowledge of curses to savor every scream and pain until the body gave out and the light in their eyes was extinguished.
He had seen his father indulged now and then. The first time Lucius had witnessed someone being tortured, he vomited his lunch in an instant and had spent three days in the Manor's dungeons with only water as his sustenance as punishment for his weakness. The second time, he had managed to hold back his bile until he was alone. It went on until he had gotten used to the smell and the sight.
Lucius glanced at his wand that was clutched tightly in his fist, remembered the joy and pride he experienced when he received it that day in Ollivander's shop. He didn't want to disappoint his father but he couldn't do what he was asking as well. He didn't want to taint something so pure with such a dark curse but time was ticking. If he refused, his father would most assuredly send him to the dungeons again and Lucius didn't want to feel the biting cold of the manacles on his wrists and ankles, didn't want to suffer the searing lashes of his father's whip.
They're nothing but filth, he tried to convince himself. The world will be a better place without them.
His eyes then caught something glinting across the room and Lucius spied a knife by the kitchen counter. A year ago, he had read a Muggle book from Severus that there was a side of the neck and throat just about even with the adam's apple. This area contained the carotid artery and jugular vein. If either was cut, the person will bleed to death very rapidly. The carotid was approximately one and a half inches beneath the surface of the skin, and if severed, will result in death in approximately five to fifteen seconds.
Lucius marched over quickly to the kitchen and grabbed the knife.
"What are you doing?" his father asked.
"The killing curse might be traced back to me if the Ministry detected it. This is safer, father," he lied but Abraxas seemed to believe it.
Turning around, Lucius stopped in his tracks when he noticed the door to what looked like a closet partially opened. He spied a kid probably five years younger than him crouched down on the floor eyes wide. Lucius raised a finger to his lips, motioning for the boy to remain silent.
"Get this over quickly. I still have some unfinished business back home," Abraxas ordered.
"Yes, father."
Lucius stood behind the woman and tilted her head upwards. He noticed her irises were brown, almost the same color as the sycamore trees outside, and lifeless. She had barely registered the feel of the knife as it sliced through her neck. Lucius then let go of her and proceeded to slit the man's neck as well. The knife clattered to the ground as he had shakily let go of it. Blood started pooling underneath the bodies and he stepped away as to not get anything on his dragonhide boots.
It was done and he felt numb. Why couldn't he feel anything?
"Mummy?"
At that moment, Lucius' heart stopped, frozen, eyes frantic as he watched the kid he saw earlier standing by the door, fear lacing the boy's features. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abraxas pulled out his wand and aimed it at the boy. A scream built up inside Lucius's chest as his father chanted the killing curse.
He wanted to stop him, to beg his father to spare the boy, but he couldn't move. His legs wouldn't work, his voice wouldn't work. Nothing worked and he was forced to watch in slow-motion as his father snuffed out the light of someone Lucius dared to protect.
"Next time, I'll make you use your wand," Abraxas murmured, holstering his own before grabbing Lucius's arm. "Now. Let's go home."
AUGUST 2, 1997.
Lucius woke up with a start. It had been two decades since he last had that nightmare. He wondered why he was reliving it now. His eyes darted around and soon realized he wasn't in the Manor nor Azkaban. He was lying on the floor of the Mudblood girl's home. Sitting up, he noticed that everyone was still asleep, even Granger herself who had taken post by the tall windows last night. Some guard you are, he snorted. He hoped she would wake up with a stiff neck from sleeping in that position.
It would've been too easy. The three of them looked so vulnerable right now and unless the house was under the Fidelius charm or a protection ward, it wouldn't take more than five minutes for Lucius to make contact with the Dark Lord without using his wand—something the girl hadn't taken into account when they made the vow.
He lifted his right hand for inspection, wondering if he could still see the thin streams of magic that enveloped it last night. Lucius was more than surprised when the girl had suggested an Unbreakable Vow and from the look on Potter's face, it wasn't planned at all. Still, he had used the situation to his advantage to secure his family's future if the Dark Lord was defeated—which was something Lucius would definitely ensure.
Learning about the Horcruxes last night, he had finally gotten the bigger picture. His father once said that ignorance was what gave power to others. Ignorance was what got people killed. For the first time in all his life, Lucius didn't feel like a clueless pawn anymore, an expendable chess piece under the madman's thumb. He was one of the major players now and a very powerful one.
Knowledge is power.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Lucius extracted his wand from underneath his pillow and made his way silently around the girl's house. The first order of business was to find a bathroom to clean himself up. He still reeked of yesterday's events and he didn't fully trust his wand to perfectly expel a scouring charm to remove the dried blood that had clung to his clothes. Lucius spotted a grand piano underneath a white cloth on his way out of the parlor room.
He could tell that the house had undergone a lot of changes since its construction. The hallways had a bit of modern touch to them with fine plaster ceilings and carved friezes, unlike the parlor room but the rest were locked so Lucius' exploration was limited. Alohomora wouldn't probably work in his wand's condition. He had passed by the kitchen and the dining area but he still hadn't seen the loo. There was an unlocked room on the other side of the estate where he had stayed a little bit longer than he intended.
It was twice bigger than the parlor room and was neat and tidy. A few pieces of furniture were draped in the typical white cloth but he noticed the rows of shelves that covered nearly the entire room. It's the library, he mused. It was smaller than their family library but the shelves were decked with Muggle books. A full wall was adorned with Muggle paintings and tapestries while the other was just left plain with only a Victorian wallpaper as its decoration.
The girl had spent a lot of time in here. There was a copy of Hogwarts, A History on a little side table by the settee as well as a Muggle photograph of an orange tabby sitting awkwardly near the edge of the frame, an odd empty space beside it. Strange. Why would they have a photo of a cat? A beloved childhood pet, perhaps? He had also spotted the odd signs of her childhood across the room: a tiny doll above the stone mantle, children and language books that were within easy reach, and to his surprise, a potions kit. He had one when he was six as a gift from his mother.
Closing the door behind him, Lucius decided to go back to the parlor room before they woke up and found out that he had wandered, but a door with a large arcaded and elaborately carved upper panel caught his attention. He felt giddy with mischief when he heard the resounding click of a lock rolling back, remembering the times he had explored prohibited parts of the Malfoy Manor when he was young. The door creaked halfway and Lucius stepped inside, closing the door behind him carefully.
It was her father's study.
Like the library, it was smaller than the one in Malfoy Manor but what struck Lucius was the fact that the room wasn't covered. As if it was just left there untouched.
He pulled the chair back and sat in it, relishing the feel of being in the seat of power. The long, lean frame of his form was slanted against the unbroken curve that made up the chair's back and armrests. His arms were flung over the sides, boneless in relaxation. It was nowhere near comfortable and lavish as his chair back home and the desk, while mahogany, was simple in design. Lucius ran a finger along the edges until he noticed a turned-down black picture frame.
This must be her parents. Henry and Jean Granger.
An ugly feeling crawled across his chest as he noticed that the mother had brown eyes. Almost the same color as the sycamore trees outside. Lucius shook his head. These brown eyes weren't lifeless. This couple wasn't them. The Muggle couple from his nightmare—or memory. He couldn't tell if the two were separate or not anymore. These were the Grangers. The girl's Muggle parents.
He had read their files back when Draco had started whining about a Mudblood besting him in every class he had and Lucius hoped that maybe she had some unknown magical ancestors that could explain why a girl of inferior birth was surpassing his son. He was annoyed to find out that she was just that—a plain Mudblood, nothing more. Either Dumbledore had found another favorite or she was just what his son had told him—a know-it-all swot.
Still, she found the girl intriguing enough to warrant a space in his head, Mudblood or no. Her relationship with Potter was something to observe too. Lucius had read that article about her during the TriWizard tournament that hinted about her supposed affair with the Boy-Who-Lived and National Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. And while Lucius knew that Rita Skeeter mostly printed embellished lies, there was always a factual basis to it that was twisted to sell more to the masses.
Just how deep her relationship with Potter really was? Last Lucius heard, the boy was dating the Weasley girl. Could he use it to create discord between the three?
He was about to put back the Muggle photo when something else caught his attention. There was a wide, empty space between her parents like someone was supposed to be there. Like… oh.
"Your parents were never on vacation, weren't they?"
"No."
"And the staff? Bernard?"
"Gone. Safe."
The conversation he had overheard between Potter and Granger last night suddenly made sense. The empty spaces in the photographs could only mean one thing. She had obliviated her parents possibly her entire servants too, had removed every single memory of herself from them. Lucius didn't know whether to commend the girl for her guts or mock her for her stupidity. There were other ways to hide a person without resolving to use the memory charm.
Just as he was about to put back the photo, the doors slammed open revealing a furious-looking Granger. Her unruly hair was much wilder than it was last night and Lucius wondered if it had a mind of its own.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped. He felt his hackles rising and Lucius wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her slender neck and choke the Mudblood to death. How dare she speak to her superior that way!
Her blazing amber orbs then flicked from his flashing blue ones down to his hands and Lucius thought her hair couldn't get anymore wilder but he was wrong. He could even see sparks coming out of it.
"Don't touch that!" she hissed, and the vehemence in her voice took him by surprise. That would certainly give even the Dark Lord a run for his money.
But instead of dropping the picture frame, Lucius held it up and waved it mockingly in front of her. "My, my, what have you done to your parents, Miss Granger?" he purred.
"None of your business, that's what," she strode over, quickly grabbing it but Lucius was quick. He got up and raised the picture frame above his head. He walked slowly towards Granger, cornering her until her back hit the nearest bookshelf.
Their bodies were only a hair's breadth away from touching but he could feel her warmth as if she was wrapped around him like a devil's snare while the familiar scent of flowers and vanilla washed over him. Lucius could see the fear, indignation, and anger blazing in her big brown eyes and he relished in it. He leaned down further and watched as her eyes turned black as coal.
"No, it's not," he whispered. Indeed, it was none of his business, logically and rationally speaking, but that information could be used as a bargaining chip to save his own skin and his family's if his plans, unfortunately, got foiled by the Dark Lord. And besides, it was fun to rile up the Mudblood. "And I really don't care about what you may have done with your parents."
He straightened his back before pushing the picture frame in the Mublood's hands. A minuscule spark of electricity made him jerk back immediately when their skins touched and Lucius shoved the feeling in the back of his mind as he whirled around towards the door, leaving the girl standing there staring bewilderedly at his retreating form.
Hermione's heart was still hammering inside her chest as she watched Malfoy's rigid back until the door closed behind him. She continued staring at the closed door for a long moment until her gaze fell back to the picture frame in her hands. What the bloody hell was that?
She had woken up by a frantic-looking Harry saying that Malfoy had left them. Hermione knew that Malfoy was still inside the estate since the wards she had set up last night when she went up to get some pillows and sheets hadn't alerted her. But to appease Harry, who was now carving a path on her mother's beloved Persian rug, Hermione decided to go and search for the annoying Pureblood prick.
She had begun to worry when she couldn't find Malfoy in the first five rooms. By the time she was in the library and there was still no sign of him, she was already panicking.
He couldn't have escaped, could he?
Hermione was starting to doubt if the charms she had cast last night were weak enough to be easily dismantled by someone with a broken wand. She was about to head back when she heard something creaking nearby and her heart started racing when Hermione realized that it was coming from his father's study.
She nearly saw red when she spotted him sitting in her father's chair with her parents' photo in his hand, looking so smug. Her parents weren't dead but with Lucius Malfoy, the paragon of Pureblood supremacy, sitting there like he owned the place felt like he was defiling their memory, their very essence. He had no right to be sitting there much less be inside her father's study.
And what was worse was that he knew what she did.
Even before he opened his mouth, Hermione knew that he found out what she did and the way he taunted her, the way he derisively said the word your parents made her want to renege on their vow and kill him then and there—if only it wouldn't forfeit her life as well. Damn that vow!
As Malfoy backed her literally into a corner, she now realized how power dynamics worked; how a wandless person can still hold immense power over someone who has a wand. That physicality wasn't just the sole basis of a person's strength although she was sure that wand or no, Malfoy could overpower her easily.
And that fact made Hermione all the more suspicious about him. She wasn't stupid. She knew there were other ways for him to call upon his fellow Death Eaters without using his wand. Hermione had seen Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries when she pressed her finger against her Dark Mark to summon You-Know-Who. Her home could be surrounded by Death Eaters faster than she could say Quidditch but that wasn't the case. Why did Malfoy agree to help them? Why did he allow her, the Muggleborn scum he wished to eradicate from the face of the earth, to make an Unbreakable Vow with her? What was his endgame here?
A whiff of citrus and earth enveloped her then and Hermione was starting to associate the smell with fear and something else she couldn't name yet. Her breathing was coming up short, her vision blurring along the edges and when he shoved the picture frame in her hands, when his skin made contact with hers at the action, Hermione felt like she was ignited. The feeling was similar to when she stuck a metal stick inside a socket when she was seven—it was electrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The overwhelming sensation nearly caused her to gasp out loud and the only thing that stopped her was Malfoy's expression.
The look of shock on his face didn't escape her notice and Hermione had to wonder if it was still the after-effects of the Unbreakable Vow they made last night or something more.
Even moments after Malfoy had left, she could still feel it in her bones that she had to lean against the bookshelf for support because her knees had started wobbling.
What is happening to me?
She slowly made her way back to her father's desk and gently placed the photograph there for the second time, her thumb stroking the glass before turning it down. Hermione took a deep breath and pushed the guilt and everything she had felt since her encounter with Malfoy this morning in the back of her mind.
Looking back at the impulsive vow she made last night, Hermione couldn't help but think that she made a mistake. They had no idea where Draco Malfoy was nor where Remus and Tonks had taken him. She supposed they could ask Mr. Weasley if Remus had made contact but Harry had forbidden her from reaching out to the Weasleys. It was for their safety, he reasoned. Still, she had no plans on not fulfilling the vow she made. Hermione didn't want to die yet.
Unbreakable Vows were like contracts. It was something she had realized in her third year at Hogwarts. And like contracts, these vows tended to have loopholes in them that Hermione can exploit and get around to. Yes, she had agreed to tell Malfoy the location of his son but he didn't set a deadline or specified a date when she should tell him. As long as he wasn't aware of that tiny bit of detail, Hermione still had time to figure things out.
And she will figure this out.
Shutting the door behind her, Hermione laid a handful of protective wards over it before heading back to join her friends to begin planning the hunt for the Horcruxes.
The smell of eggs and meat cooking permeated the air inside the kitchen. Harry stood to the side, leaning against the counter as he helped Ginny cook breakfast using the Muggle stove. It was such a domestic thing to do and this serene image of domesticity between them made his heart ache, made him long for a future with her where they got to do simple things such as making dinner for each other or grocery shopping together.
Harry woke up from one of his usually Voldemort-induced nightmares again where he saw his arch-nemesis torturing a woman who looked oddly familiar to him when he realized that Lucius Malfoy was missing.
He immediately woke Hermione up from her slumber on the chair beside the window, feeling a little exasperated that she didn't bother waking him up to exchange rounds. Ginny was also woken up by the ruckus and when Hermione had left to search for Malfoy, only Harry himself and Ginny were left. But before he could say anything, a loud grumble from her stomach interrupted him. Ginny gave him a sheepish smile and asked if where can they get some food so Harry directed them to the kitchen. If they were going to search for Malfoy (if what Hermione said was true) through the entire estate, they might as well do it on a full stomach.
"Do you know where's the salt?" Ginny roused him from his musings.
Harry walked over to the other side of the kitchen where the salt and pepper shakers were placed. He handed it to Ginny who nodded her head in thanks.
A few minutes passed with only the sizzling of meat from the pan could be heard until Ginny spoke again but her focus was still on the stove.
"How many times have you been here, Harry? You seemed so familiar with Hermione's house."
Harry shrugged. "Only twice."
"Only twice?" Ginny looked at him in the eye this time as if she didn't believe him. Harry had to make her understand.
"Hermione gave me her address when I met her parents in Flourish and Blotts during Lockhart's book signing in case I needed someplace to go to. I spent half of my summer there when the school year ended. Hermione's parents knew about the… the situation with the Dursleys," even though he had patched things up with them, it was still quite hard for Harry to talk about it, to acknowledge the years of physical and emotional abuse he went through as a child. "They offered to help me get out of there, offered to foster or adopt me into their home but I declined."
"Why?"
"The Dursleys are the only family I have, Gin," he said but seeing the hurt look on her face made him speak again. "Your family has been kind to me from the beginning and I considered them my family as much as the Dursleys but, Gin, they're the only blood relative I have. They're my mother's family."
"But they have never treated you like one!" she said frustrated. Ginny swooped up the remaining meat and eggs on the pan and sloppily placed them on a plate, too angry to care. "You were just a kid! You did nothing wrong and they treated you like shit!"
"I know," was all he said, a melancholic look on his face. "And I'm sorry."
"Whatever for?" she raised a brow at him.
"For dragging you into this mess," he raked his fingers through his messy mop of dark hair. "You should be at Hogwarts continuing your study instead of being on the run with me and Hermione. I'm sorry about Lucius Malfoy being here. I'm sorry I couldn't stay away. I'm—oww! Ginny!"
Harry yelped in surprise when a small chunk of charred meat was chucked in his face.
"Let's get something straight here, Harry. I was the one who came here willingly. No one forced me to grab Hermione's portkey. I came here because I wanted to help you guys and I know Mum and Dad, they understand," she reached over clasped his hands in hers and Harry felt like crying again but he blinked the unshed tears away. "They're scared but they understand. And whatever this thing between us can wait when the war is finally over. For now, we should focus on surviving and finding those Horcruxes."
"Gin," he whispered, shaking his head. It was too much. There was so much hope in her words, hope for him, for a better future between them, and Harry was tempted to believe it but knowing his life, knowing the burden placed on his shoulders, he couldn't afford to. It would gut him.
"You think too much, Harry. Leave that job to Hermione," Ginny gave him a small smile as she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. They jumped apart when they heard someone clearing their throat by the door.
"Am I interrupting something?" Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed at the chest and looking too pleased to have interrupted an intimate moment.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Ginny quickly recovered first and marched towards the blond aristocrat. Harry was more than happy to let her do all the talking. After that talk with Ginny, he felt like he didn't have the energy to argue with Draco's father.
"Why should I answer to you?" Malfoy sneered.
"Then, pray tell, who do you answer to? Your eminence, You-Know-Who?" Ginny bit back.
Harry expected Malfoy to lash out, to say something scathing to Ginny but he was thrown off guard when the Death Eater started laughing instead. Even Ginny was shocked by the unexpected reaction as well.
"You're in an awfully good mood today," Harry remarked.
"Who wouldn't be?" Malfoy cryptically replied before sauntering inside the room. He pulled a chair and sat in front of the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. "What is that?"
"Breakfast. If you want one then help yourself," Ginny waved towards the plates of food on the table. "There are no house-elves here to serve your posh arse."
"You call this food?" he sniffed mockingly.
"Fine, starve yourself!" she pulled the plates farther away from him. Before Malfoy could do anything, Hermione entered the kitchen as well and sat far away from him.
"Morning, Hermione," Ginny greeted.
Hermione nodded distractedly and Harry realized that something was on her mind. He wondered what happened between her and Malfoy. She then proceeded to fill up her plates with eggs, ham, and some sausages. Her eyes were trained to the food and nothing else.
Something was up.
Harry noticed that Malfoy looked far too pleased with himself for someone who was caught wandering around the house and Hermione was acting strange. It reminded him of that time when Ron had started dating Lavender and Hermione acted as if he didn't exist. Harry needed to talk to his friend, preferably alone and out of the others' earshot. For now, he'll just go with whatever was going on.
He took a seat beside her while Ginny occupied his other side, near Malfoy, and started filling up her plate as well. They continued to eat in silence while Malfoy on the other hand just sat there looking so out of place. Harry wondered if it was Malfoy's first time inside a kitchen.
Finally, he couldn't take the awkward silence anymore. Harry cleared his throat to get Malfoy's attention.
"So, Horcruxes," he began and Malfoy's eyes immediately landed on him. "You were wondering last night if he made more than two. The answer is yes."
"How many?"
"That's the part we are trying to figure out. The diary is indeed one and there's that ring Professor Dumbledore destroyed."
"The Gaunt family ring?"
"How did you know?" Harry asked.
"Abraxas Malfoy went to school with him although the Dark Lord is a year older. My father told me that the Dark Lord is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself from the Gaunt family line," Malfoy explained then looked at his left hand that was lying flat on the table. Harry noticed a ring on his pinky finger. "Every ancient Pureblood family has a signet ring that is passed down to its successor as a symbol of their continued wealth and status as a Pureblood family. I don't know much about the Gaunts but my father once mentioned that the Dark Lord was wearing his family signet ring during his final year in Hogwarts. When I came of age and met the Dark Lord for the first time, I noticed he wasn't wearing any ring. He must've hidden it."
"He hid it under the floorboards of the Gaunt ancestral home," Harry confirmed.
"So, the Horcruxes are things that have meaning to him then?" Malfoy asked. "What are the others? Or are you trying to figure that out as well?"
Harry ignored the jab but he couldn't ignore the way Hermione's fork scraped against the porcelain plate loudly. He winced at the sound before turning back to Malfoy. Harry needed to be prepared to deescalate the situation because once Hermione opened her mouth, Wizarding War III was sure to happen.
"Professor Dumbledore… he was looking for a locket he believed to be a Horcrux. When we got there, the locket was gone, replaced by an imitation," he pulled the fake locket out of his drawstring pouch and slid it towards Malfoy. "Someone got to it before we did."
Malfoy tentatively picked it up, carefully turning it over and over in his hand to look at it more closely. "This is Slytherin's locket."
Harry nodded. "Someone left a note. Do you know anyone with R.A.B. as their initials?"
Seconds passed as Malfoy leaned back against the chair, a pensive look on his face. "I'm surprised you didn't figure out who R.A.B. was considering you were close with his older brother." At Harry's confused expression, Malfoy continued. "R.A.B. stands for Regulus Arcturus Black. Sirius' younger brother."
Collective gasps came from the three Gryffindors on the other side of the table.
"But Sirius told me Vol—You-Know-Who killed him for defecting!"
"Typical Gryffindors. Ready to believe the first thing they hear," Malfoy rolled his eyes at him. "Regulus mysteriously disappeared in 1979. The Dark Lord suspected that he was taken by the Order and had tasked Bella to find and return him safely. She had searched for her cousin for years even after the Dark Lord's downfall until she was caught by the Aurors torturing the Longbottoms for information in 1981. Regulus was devoted to the cause and had no reason to defect."
Harry leaned forward and passed the letter to Malfoy. "Then how do you explain that?"
He watched as Malfoy read the letter's contents silently, pale blue eyes moving left to right at rapid speed. "So, he might have betrayed the cause, but I'm sure we had nothing to do with his death. Why else would the Dark Lord waste his most loyal follower's time looking for a dead man?"
Harry threw his hands up. "Oh, I don't know! Probably so Bellatrix wouldn't exact vengeance on You-Know-Who for killing her cousin!"
"Then you don't know Bella at all," Malfoy stated. "She'd gladly kill Regulus as soon as she had found out that he had turned to the other side," he cocked his head to the side, a taunting smirk on his face before he added: "Just like how she killed his older brother."
Harry stood abruptly, the chair he was sitting on was thrown back. "Fuck you, Malfoy!" he yelled. Sirius' death was something Harry still couldn't let go of. He had carried the guilt ever since he saw Bellatrix's killing curse hit his godfather squarely on the chest. If it weren't for his recklessness, Sirius would've been alive right now. Harry felt his insides shaking with pure anger at the memory of it. His scar had started tingling, reminding him of last night's nightmare.
The blonde woman, Harry wondered if it was—
"Such language, Potter," Malfoy tutted. "Did your mother taught you that? Oh no, wait, she didn't because she's dead."
"Your family will be too if you keep that up!" he snapped.
"What did you just say?" Malfoy had also risen from his chair and was now staring daggers at Harry. The two of them had reached down towards their respective wands but before either of them could pull it out and aim at each other, Harry caught a flash of movement from his peripheral vision and flinched when Hermione's hand was slammed against the table, rattling everything on it.
"ENOUGH!" she yelled. The dark tendrils on her forehead were swept away by a strong current of magic flowing through her. Harry took a step back, afraid that Hermione might perform accidental magic. Ginny was standing now as well and was looking at Hermione warily. "Will you two stop this stupidity?"
"And you!" she spat in Malfoy's direction. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Do you get off on provoking everyone?"
A shadow of something ugly passed across Malfoy's face. He stood up straight, no longer relaxed, a hint of viciousness in his cold gaze. Harry now realized that Hermione's outburst was merely a continuation of whatever it was that occurred before they came here. He closed his hand around his wand, ready to jump between the two the moment they did any sudden movement.
"I was only stating facts, Miss Granger," Malfoy's voice was dry, a dark warning in the undercurrent. "It's not my problem if he can't handle it."
"Stating facts!" Hermione scoffed. "Here I thought I'm the know-it-all swot."
"Children, children," Ginny raised her arms placatingly. "All this bickering is becoming tiresome. We're getting off track here and the breakfast is getting cold." She pointed to the remaining food on the table.
Thank heavens for Ginny, Harry internally sighed. Everyone eventually sat back in their respective seats with Hermione still glaring at Malfoy across the table.
"I think we should go and check out Grimmauld Place," Harry finally said and Hermione's glare was suddenly directed at him.
"Are you out of your mind? It's not safe there, Harry. Snape could be there or worse—"
"Ginny's dad said that they've placed jinxes there to prevent him from getting in and even if he managed to dispel them, I think the three of us can overpower him," he said confidently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy roll his eyes but Harry chose to ignore him. "C'mon, Hermione. It's the only chance we've got at finding the locket."
Hermione's face softened a little as she pondered it over in her mind. Harry could feel the gears in her brain shifting. "What about him?" she gestured in Malfoy's direction.
"I'm here, you know," Malfoy looked bored, his familiar baritone darkly uninterested.
Harry continued to ignore him. "We have to take him with us. You two have that vow after all."
"Fine," Hermione groaned. "We need to prepare first. Store up some necessary items before leaving. And if I caught one whiff of trouble when we get there, we're apparating out immediately."
Compromise, Harry thought as he nodded in agreement. It was the only way to appease Hermione sometimes.
"A field trip!" Ginny clapped her hands together. "When do we leave?"
Harry shared a look with Hermione before replying.
"This afternoon."
AN: Let me know what you guys think. Next chapter is their merry excursion to Grimmauld Place.