Chapter 6: R.A.B.

Yes, I really did guess R.A.B.'s true identity on my own, prior to the release of Deathly Hallows. I only guessed his middle name incorrectly.

"Illuminated" by Hurts.

"I've seen them here twice now" the dark-eyed cloaked man said to his companion. "Entering the inn over there, and later hiding in the trees."

"From what, I wonder," the light-eyed cloaked man laughed. The dark-eyed man glared at him.

"They're sure to get themselves killed the way they're going," he said testily. "They can't possibly have much food left, they need a safer hideout, and now that he knows what they're doing—"

"They'll be in more danger than ever," the light-eyed man finished his companion's terse speech. "But they'll handle this added danger as they've handled all the other dangers they've faced. Just a push in the right direction, and they'll get past this." The dark-eyed man said nothing. Instead, he drew his wand and aimed it at a lone owl flying overhead.

"Imperio!"

Harry dreamt of being back at the Dursleys'. Hedwig was screeching and pecking the window by her cage, asking to be let outside, while Uncle Vernon was shouting from downstairs to make her keep quiet. He walked over and stroked her feathers, apologizing for her unfair confinement. She turned away from the window and closed her beak, but the screeching and pecking noises still continued…

Harry blinked and rolled over in his bed. He saw Ron and Hermione in the next bed, also opening their tired eyes to find the source of the noise. Harry heard the noise again and looked up to the small window above Ron and Hermione's bed. There was an owl in the window, trying to get in.

Ron rolled over and opened the window. The bird flew in and landed in Hermione's lap. She stared from it to the two boys on either side of her, an eyebrow raised into her tangled mess of hair. "I guess we can write to the others now," Ron said, rubbing his eyes. "And let's ask them to send food."

"ARTHUR! GINNY! THEY'RE ALIVE!" Mrs. Weasley screamed as she opened the envelope on which she recognized her youngest son's handwriting. "THEY SENT ANOTHER LETTER!" Mr. Weasley and Ginny ran into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley had abandoned a pot of soup, though it was boiling over. She nearly dropped the letter through her trembling fingers as she read it aloud.

"Sorry we haven't written in a while. We had to move to a new hideout when we were spotted by Death Eaters. We'll probably change hideouts again soon, and we'll try to write again then. Don't get too worried, but could you please send food? We took money with us, but since everyone is looking for us, we can't really do much shopping. Send it to Neal, Landen, and Claire at 'the Hideout by the Hideout'. Love, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Ron's favorite quidditch team: Chudley Cannons."

As Mrs. Weasley finished reading the letter, she looked up to see Ginny already pulling food from their cabinets and fridge, piling everything on the table, seemingly not noticing or caring how little food she was leaving for herself and her parents.

"Ginny, there's a limit to what we can send," Mr. Weasley said, grabbing her shoulder as she was proceeding past him to another cabinet. "We have to be discreet, remember? The package can't be too big, and we shouldn't use more than two owls to carry it. We can send more when they change their hideout."

"Spotted by Death Eaters," Mrs. Weasley reread the delicately phrased part of the letter. "Spotted?! That village was destroyed! Where are they hiding now to have to leave so quickly?! Where are they going next?! Arthur, I want them BACK!" Mrs. Weasley let out a loud sob and hugged her husband tightly. Ginny joined in the hug.

"Mum? Dad?" Ginny whispered. "Did you know Harry and I were dating for a while at school, last term?" Ginny's parent's gaped at her.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley sniffed, "we saw you two dancing at the wedding, and Fred, George, and Ron seemed to know something, but…"

"Dating?" Mr. Weasley asked. Ginny nodded.

"We broke up at Dumbledore's funeral because he wanted to protect me," Ginny whispered while slow, round tears fell down her face. "But…"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, grabbing her daughter again and holding her close, knowing what Ginny was trying to confess. In spite of her own tears choking her, and her mother's arms restricting breath, Ginny finally said it.

"I love him…"

"Food's here!" Ron called to Harry and Hermione as he removed the larger burden two owls bore through the window of their room. Each owl also carried a separate letter, both letters addressed to the three of them. As Ron and Hermione unloaded the care package, Harry opened the letter that was attached to it and read it aloud to his friends.

"This should tide you over until you move again. As for the 'spotting' at the Lion's Den, we know they found you in the village outside Azkaban. What were you doing there?We thought you were dead, like all those guards! Ron, Harry, Hermione, please be careful. I wish you'd tell us what you're doing. We're all worried sick about you! Especially now that all the Death Eaters are free. Now that they've seen the article and seen you, they'll never rest until they find you again. Please write back soon. We all love you. Love, Molly Weasley. House elf: Dobby."

"Bloody Hell, they shouldn't have found out we were there," Ron said. "They find out too much, they'll just get themselves in more trouble. What?" He was looking at Hermione. She had opened the other letter and was staring at it wide-eyed. She handed it to him with a trembling hand. Harry moved closer to read the letter with Ron. It was unsigned.

Look for R.A.B. in Kreacher's cache in Grimmauld Place.

The two cloaked men stood in an alley close to Grimmauld Place. They backed further into the shadows by the walls when three more cloaked, hooded figures tapped their wands against the space between the two buildings that exposed the secret door. "You see," the light-eyed man said, "they did follow the tip."

"Proving their recklessness," the dark-eyed man snapped. "Following a tip written to them anonymously when, to their knowledge, no one else knows about the decoy Horcrux."

"Exactly," the light-eyed man said with a smile. "No one they'd expect to harm or help them knows, so they have no reason to trust, nor distrust the clue. It does take some daring to gamble with neutral territory, but with no other leads, they have to test their odds."

"Why not just have me conveniently mention his name when they could overhear me?" The dark-eyed man prodded.

"Because that wouldn't be enough for her to understand."

As the trio entered Grimmauld Place, their breath caught in their chests. Tears fought to fall from Harry's eyes, but he refused to let them pass. Though this house belonged to him, he hadn't returned to it since Sirius died. For a long time, he had to force himself to not even think of this place, to avoid thinking of Sirius. It hurt too much. Hermione sniffed behind him and he turned to face her, but he didn't see her or Ron there. He saw a large, dusty box in a small room, and them an old book: Magical Milestones by Nicolas Flamel, with a piece of parchment sticking out of it at an odd angle. He blinked and Hermione and Ron came back into view, both looking a little scared.

"It happened again, didn't it?" Ron asked, "Did you hear the voice again?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head and focusing on what he'd just seen. "I saw a box with a book by Nicolas Flamel in it. It was in a small room. It must be something Kreacher stored away."

"Harry, whatever is causing these episodes is scary," Hermione said nervously. "The last time you heard voices, it was the basilisk, and the last time you were seeing strange things, it was Voldemort using Legilimency."

"I know," Harry said. "But it's all we've got to go on now. Besides, when it had to do with Voldemort, my scar hurt. This doesn't hurt me. The opposite… It feels safe." Hermione frowned at him, but dropped the subject.

"Let's see if we can get Kreacher's stash open," she said. "Nobody in the Order could do it before, but there has to be a way." The three of them proceeded quietly past Mrs. Blacks screaming portrait and made their way to the door that had always been locked. Ron tugged at the doorknob without making the door budge.

"Ravenclaw's glove would be useful now," he said.

"There has to be a way," Hermione said again, staring at the door through narrowed eyes. Harry gave the door a similar look.

"Sirius left this place and everything in it to me," he said. "I should be able to use that." He stared at the door for another minute before saying, "Kreacher, come here!"

Pop!

The wicked-looking elf appeared at his rightful master's feet. When the Death Eaters broke into Hogwarts, he'd escaped. They assumed he chose to seek out either Bellatrix Lestrange or Narcissa Malfoy, members of the Black family that he favored, but he belonged to Harry. The Death Eaters knew Harry and his friends were after the Horcruxes, so calling Kreacher was a risk, but Kreacher couldn't reveal anything his rightful master forbade him to speak of. Kreacher would never be able to tell the Death Eaters anything Harry, Ron, or Hermione said.

"Kreacher, open this door," Harry commanded. Kreacher's eyes widened.

"Why does the Potter boy want Kreacher to open the door?" Kreacher sputtered, "Why is he calling Kreacher now? Why are the Potter and Weasley boys and the Mudblood here again?"

"Don't call her Mudblood!" Harry and Ron shouted.

"Mistress Bellatrix talks about you around Kreacher," the house elf hissed. "Why do you call Kreacher?"

"Sirius left you to me, Kreacher. I'm your master, not Bellatrix," Harry said coldly. "She killed Sirius. Sirius gave you to me." Kreacher just stared at him. After a pause, his face shifted. His ears perked up higher, and he put on what he seemed to think was a hurt, friendly face, before turning to Hermione.

"You hear how he speaks to Kreacher, Miss?" He said, his normally ragged little voice like oil. "You hated when people spoke to Kreacher like that. You protected Kreacher." Hermione glared at him.

"Your master gave you an order, Kreacher," she said icily.

"Wretched Mudblood!" Kreacher spat, his kind mask shattering. "You've no right to enter this house! You've no right to speak to a servant of such a noble family! You—"

"KREACHER, OPEN THIS DOOR!" Harry shouted, making Kreacher stumble backwards onto the ground. "And if you insult Hermione one more time, I'll lock you inside when we're done and I'll make you stay there!" Kreacher gaped at him. The house elf got up, grumbling, and laid a sharp-nailed hand on the door. There was a crackling noise and a loud pop, then Kreacher lowered his hand. Harry grabbed the doorknob and turned it and the door opened.

Kreacher looked sick as Harry pulled the door wide open and entered the small room with Ron and Hermione entering close behind him. "Why do they go in there?" Kreacher muttered in his strained voice that he still didn't seem to think nobody could hear. "What property of my mistress and her noble family do they mean to take? Thieving blood traitors, they are. And to say Kreacher belongs to them—"

"Kreacher, go wait in the master bedroom," Harry ordered. Kreacher turned and proceeded upstairs, still muttering his outrage. "I think the box I saw had a big rip in one of the top flaps," Harry said to Ron and Hermione as they sifted through Kreacher's cluttered storage room.

"This one has a tear like that," Ron said, moving a pile of what looked like photo albums off the top of a large, dusty box. Hermione dragged nearby items out of the way, clearing space around the box.

"This is it," Harry confirmed, stepping up close to the box. He carefully opened the top flaps and found it to be stuffed full of old, used school supplies and books. Harry, Ron, and Hermione started sorting through the old books. As they did, Hermione reverted to her previous train of thought.

"The last time we took books that we knew weren't ours, they ended up belonging to Voldemort and Snape, both filled with dark magic," she said.

"But this book was written by Nicolas Flamel," Harry said. "He was a friend of Dumbledore's. Why would a dark wizard take enough interest in that kind of book to bewitch it?"

"Or invent dark spells in it," Ron added. Hermione was silent.

"I guess we're about to find out," Harry said, picking up a book with a dark purple cover: Magical Milestones by Nicolas Flamel. Just as he'd seen, there was a piece of parchment sticking out of it.

"It looks like a note," Hermione said, as Harry pulled it out.

"It's a list of notes," Harry said. "Probably passed between two people in class or something." Ron and Hermione came around to either side of Harry so they could all read the series of notes that had been written in two different styles of handwriting. One of the styles looked strangely familiar.

You're sure the note with the locket said R.A.B.?

I showed you the note. You saw it yourself.

I know, I just can't believe we're going to do this.

We already did, so we have to now.

Do any of the still living ones know?

They shouldn't. The Glitch is described clearly in Flamel's book.

No one should remember until you go back.

Yes, won't that be a shock to them all? The mysterious R.A.B. destroyed the locket Horcrux with a muggleborn witch, born after he died, when they were the same age and attending the same classes in their seventh year at Hogwarts.

R.A.B. and Hermione Granger. I wish I could see their faces.

Harry nearly dropped the note. He, Ron, and Hermione all looked like they'd bern doused with ice water. "Hermione…" Harry said, stunned. "The person that helped R.A.B. was you." Hermione seemed paralyzed by shock. Ron was staring at her like she was covered in spiders. Harry looked from the note to the book. He opened the book's cover to look for a name.

Property of Regulus Aries Black.