For notes, see first chapter.
Diamonds and To(tally Disgusting)ads
The Horcrux had been slightly less malevolent ever since Harry, Hermione, and Ron had tried their Patronuses against its power, but Harry suspected that their current problems stemmed from more than just the ugly locket. The snow had finally stopped, and after Harry had a bout of particularly violent sneezing, Hermione had doled out some Pepper-Up Potion to quell his oncoming cold, then decided that a bit should be given to Ron and herself as a preventative.
"Living in such close quarters, we're bound to all come down with it as well," she'd reasoned, and for several hours the tent had filled with the steam pouring from their ears.
Harry felt much better afterwards, but Ron kept shaking his head as though he were trying to get water out of his ears, and Hermione looked rather ill.
"I'll be fine," she'd said. "This potion always makes me rather queasy for a while. I'll be right as rain by tomorrow morning."
"What?" Ron had yelled. "It's going to rain tomorrow morning?"
"No, it's- oh, skip it," Hermione had said. "Give it while and your hearing will clear up."
Now a few more hours had passed, and Ron's hearing seemed much improved. Harry was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, as he tried to think for the millionth time of another likely hiding spot for a Horcrux. Every last one seemed less likely than the one before, and he was starting to wonder if Ron's plan to search Fiji didn't have some merit.
"Do we have anything left to eat?" Ron said, still a bit too loudly. "I'm hungry."
"There are a few apples in the box on the table along with a half a loaf of bread and a bit of jam," Hermione said, not looking up from the replacement hat she was knitting for Ron.
"Well, that's something anyway," he said in what Harry thought Ron might have supposed was a low grumble but which was actually his normal voice.
"That's all we have until after breakfast tomorrow, though," Hermione warned him, "so do leave something for the morning unless you're willing to skip."
Ron grimaced but took an apple, then threw one to Harry, who caught it easily. It reminded him of Quidditch, and we tried to remember the last time he'd really played Seeker properly. It almost seemed like someone else's life now. Another apple went whizzing past him, though, hitting Hermione, who was engrossed in her knitting, squarely in the left temple.
"Ow!" she yelled. "What was that for?"
"Oops," Ron said, blushing. "Sorry. Just thought you wanted an apple."
"I would, but not through my skull," Hermione said, rubbing the spot and wincing.
"Sorry," Ron said. "I think that potion's got me a bit off balance. Something in my inner ear."
"That can be a side effect," Hermione admitted. "Still, it's better than wandering about for three weeks with a streaming nose."
"I'd rather just not wander about anywhere," Ron said gloomily. "Can we stay in one spot for a while? Just for a change of pace?"
"I don't think so," Hermione said, but Harry noted that she sounded sympathetic. "It would be awfully dangerous."
"At some point we're going to run out of campgrounds and woods and small villages and such," Ron said. "Then what do we do?"
"It would take rather a long time to run through the entire geography of Great Britain," Hermione said dryly.
"Yeah, but the way things are going, we will eventually," Ron said. "Then what?"
"I don't know," Hermione said. "Start over again? Try the Forbidden Forest? Move on to Ireland?"
Ron just grunted and sat down again. Hermione applied a bit of salve out of her bag to her temple before sighing and starting to eat the now rather bruised apple. Harry said nothing. He had the feeling they simply didn't know enough about Voldemort's warped mind to figure out what he would value highly enough to trust with a piece of his soul and where he would hide it. Dumbledore's research had been very valuable, and it had managed to expose the ring's hiding place, but there were still a lot of the pieces missing in the puzzle.
"Are you absolutely certain Dumbledore didn't give you any other clue that you might have missed, Harry?" Hermione said, making him wonder for the thousandth time if she might not secretly be a Legilimens.
"Unless You-Know-Who hid his soul in a lemon drop factory, no," Harry said, for once avoiding the name since Ron was already sick, and making him tense wouldn't help matters.
Hermione only nodded and looked pensive, but suddenly Ron broke the silence.
"Okay, this is going to sound crazy," Ron said.
"You want to throw water on You-Know-Who to see if he melts?" Harry suggested.
"What?" Ron said, looking perplexed.
"Just trying to keep the concept of a crazy plan in perspective," Harry said. "What is it?"
"What if we took Polyjuice potion and went up to some of the top Death Eaters and just flat out asked them about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's background, like what he told them about his life and his childhood and things. They might know stuff Dumbledore couldn't have got hold of," Ron suggested.
"It's not a bad idea," Hermione said slowly, though silently Harry was thinking Ron really was bordering on being right round the bend on this one, "but it would be awfully tricky to pull off. Also, I'm not sure he would have told anyone about things like that. He doesn't seem the sort to go around making deep confessions about his past to his friends, if that's what you could even call those people. Lackeys is more like it."
"Probably not," Ron said, sounding defeated. "You have to figure that a wizard's not that forthcoming when his best friend is a snake."
"Only friend, more like," Harry said.
"It's too bad we can't just… talk… to…," Hermione paused in the middle of her sentence and stared at Harry.
"What?" Ron said, looking confused again.
"Harry, do you think it's possible you could talk to Nagini?" Hermione asked in a rush.
"I suppose I could," Harry said. "I've heard her talk before, so I can understand her, yeah."
"Wait, Hermione," Ron said. "You want Harry to talk to You-Know-Who's favorite slinky serpent? That sounds fairly lethal."
"But think!" Hermione said, sounding more excited than she had in months. "She must know all sorts of things, maybe even where the Horcruxes are! And how to destroy You-Know-Who! And, well, just about everything!"
"Okay, yeah, true," Harry broke in. "I'm not saying you're wrong, but I don't think we could do it. He never lets that snake out of his sight, and even if by some miracle we got hold of her, she seems pretty loyal to him. I don't think she'd just give up the information."
"Could Harry turn into another snake and chat her up?" Ron asked suddenly.
"No," Hermione said, looking defeated again. "The Polyjuice only works for human transformations. Remember? I learned that bit the hard way in second year."
"Yeah, you were still coughing up hairballs into May," Ron said, screwing his face into a grimace. "Harry might develop some weird tongue-flicking thing or summat."
"If he ever managed to assume human shape again," Hermione said. "Madam Pomfrey isn't about, you know, and even with her it took months for me to be normal again."
"As normal as you ever were," Ron said with a laugh, but Harry noticed Hermione looked more hurt than amused. Ron really needed to learn when to keep his mouth shut.
"Regardless, Harry's right. We've no reason to believe Nagini would tell us the truth, and I have no idea if Veritas serum* works on animals," Hermione said.
"Plus the fact she might be a Horcrux would probably make her kind of reticent to admit we'd need to kill her in order to defeat owner," Harry said.
"True," Hermione said, sighing. "The plan's full of holes. I'm slipping."
"It wasn't a bad idea, just impractical," Ron said consolingly. Harry's hopes rose a fraction.
"Maybe, but there must be someone out there who knows something," Hermione said.
Harry thought for a long moment, racking his brains for anything Dumbledore might have said in one of their talks. The truth was, he suspected Dumbledore had intended to tell him a lot more over the following months, but he supposed that believing he only had a few months left to live, he hadn't really considered the possibility of dying even sooner than that.
"Dumbledore interviewed Hokey the House-elf," he said slowly. "Maybe one of the Death Eaters has a House-elf we can question?"
Hermione's face briefly lit up, but Ron actually laughed at the suggestion.
"Yeah, I can just imagine that conversation. 'I is not knowing where is the Horcruxes. Excuse me, sirs and miss, I must go now as I must be slamming my toes in the doorjamb and then telling my Master you is here so he can kill you. Is not personal. Is just part of the House-elf servitude of following orders. Would sirs and miss like a cup of tea before they is sent to their doom?'" Ron said, piping along in a high voice that was actually a pretty good imitation of an elf.
"He's got a point," Harry said.
"But Dobby was able to let you know what was going on with the Malfoys," Hermione said.
"Yeah, but only in the most round-about way possible, and even then only because he was really determined, even if it did mean ironing his hands," Harry said.
"He had to iron his hands?" Hermione said, looking sick.
"Yeah," Harry said, looking uncomfortable. "I guess I skipped mentioning that bit."
"Oh, this whole system is just disgusting!" she said, visibly trembling with rage. "Who would think that was a morally defensible thing to make some poor elf do?!"
"The Malfoys," Ron said blandly.
"And apparently a lot of other wizards who aren't interested in elf rights," Hermione said, and Harry thought there might be an accusation hidden in that.
"Hey, I don't agree with that sort of nonsense," Ron said immediately. "That's just outright cruel, that is. Dobby had a horrid time of it, no question."
"I know that," Hermione said in a softer tone. "Still, there really are witches and wizards who think there's nothing wrong with that kind of terrible treatment at all. They just assume that certain beings aren't worth bothering about, and one day I think they probably will end up paying the consequences for it."
Even though Hermione occasionally sounded a bit fanatical on the topic, Harry couldn't help thinking that there was something to be said for that. Dobby really had been through a lot of abuse, and he bet he hadn't heard even a tenth of it. He was just about to slip into a really depressing pattern of thought when Ron suddenly spoke.
"I don't suppose there's a Muggle story about that by any chance, is there?" Ron asked hopefully.
"What, about treating people kindly even if they don't seem important?" Hermione said, and it was amazing how quickly her brain seemed to slip into gear. "Actually, there are several I can think of. Many times a mysterious stranger shows up, and whether they are offered hospitality or not changes the outcome of the whole story."
"Then why not tell us one," Ron said, settling back against a pillow in his chair. "We're not kidnapping Nagini or a House-elf or a Death Eater anytime soon, so we may as well pass the time."
Hermione shrugged and nearly mirrored Ron's movements on the couch as she relaxed against the cushions.
"Fine then. Once…"
"Upon a time," Ron finished with her.
"Yes, Ronald, once upon a time there was a man who had a wife who died, leaving him with a little girl," Hermione said.
"Okay, these fellows need to start looking into copyright infringement or something," Ron said. "That's the background for a whole lot of these."
"True, but it's still how this one starts. Well, one version of it at any rate. The man remarried, and the woman he chose also had a daughter about the same age as his own," Hermione said.
"Just one? Not two?" Ron asked.
"Just the one, but she was more than enough," Hermione said. "The father died soon after, and the stepmother showed her true inner heart by treating her stepdaughter poorly, mostly because the girl was so kind and good and beautiful and her own daughter was mean and horrid and ugly into the bargain."
"Quite the catch," Ron said. "I wonder what the father ever saw in her."
"One of the other versions is even rather worse," Hermione said. "In that one, the woman isn't the stepmother but the mother of both girls. She just likes the one who looks more like her better and treats the other poorly because she resembles the dead father, who she never much liked."
"So she looks like the ugly girl?" Ron said. "Now I'm really confused. Most of the other ones at least had looks, but she didn't even have that to excuse the father's poor judgment."
"In any case, one day, the stepmother sent the kind daughter to get water from a well that was very far away. The girl, who was always given the hardest and worst tasks, took up the bucket with no complaint and walked miles to the well."
"They live miles from the nearest water?" Ron asked. "Why?"
"I don't know, but it wasn't unheard of in olden times for people to need to haul water a good way each day, and it's still common in some parts of the world," Hermione said.
"Why didn't they just live closer to the water?" Ron asked.
"There could be a hundred reasons," Hermione said. "Maybe they had their own well that was closer, but it had gone dry. Maybe the king had divided up the land parcels for his subjects in a stupid way, but they had to follow along with it because he was the king. Maybe the well is on someone else's land, and they couldn't dig one on their own."
"Okay, okay, but it's still odd to think of having to take a miles long hike just for a drink of water," Ron said. "So the nice girl, who I'm assuming is nameless, goes to the well."
"Yes, and you're right, she has no name here," Hermione said. "Once she got to the well, she drew up a bucket, but an old woman in tattered and dirty clothes came hobbling up to her and begged her for a drink of water."
"I'm assuming she had gave the poor old thing some," Ron said.
"Precisely," Hermione said. "She was very kind to the old woman and let her drink as much as she liked from the bucket, then filled it once again. The old woman smiled at her and said, 'I thank you, and more than that, I give you a gift to show what kindness dwells within you,' and then she disappeared."
"And what's that?" Harry asked.
"The girl herself didn't know," Hermione said. "She quickly walked home with the heavy bucket of water, but because she had stopped to help the old woman, she was later than usual. Her stepmother was furious, shrieking at the girl for being a lazy good-for-nothing. The girl said only, 'I am sorry, but I stopped to draw water for an old woman at the well, and that is what has made me late,' but something truly strange happened when she opened her mouth."
"Which was?" Ron said.
"With every word she said, a flower or a gem fell from her lips," Hermione said.
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
"Pull the other one," Ron said.
"No, really, that's how the story goes. By the time she had finished speaking three diamonds, four rubies, two roses, five pearls, six emeralds, a sapphire, and three daisies had fallen from her mouth," Hermione said.
"She's vomiting flowers and gemstones?" Ron said, looking appalled. "That's the gift?"
"Not vomiting exactly," Hermione said. "They just appear whenever she speaks."
"By falling out of her mouth," Ron said suspiciously. "Are they covered in spit?"
"No, they are not covered in spit!" Hermione said strongly, then paused. "At least I don't think so."
"Okay, that is just bizarre," he said. "Now what?"
"Well, obviously, the stepmother and her daughter were stunned, and the woman had the girl hold a bowl in her lap to catch the treasure while she explained everything that happened to her since she had left the house. When she had finished, diamonds and rubies and every sort of precious stone overflowed the bowl, but the stepmother had no use for the flowers and simply threw bouquets of them into the fire," Hermione said.
"Uh-huh," Ron said. "I'm sorry, but that's disgusting."
"It's not really supposed to be, but I see your point," Hermione said. "The stepmother saw a chance to change her own daughter's fortune. She said to her, 'You must go to the well tomorrow to gather water, and if an old woman asks you for a drink of water, give it to her with all courtesy. Then you shall have this same gift, and there will not be a man in all the world who would not want you as a wife.'"
"Me," Ron said, raising his hand as though he were in class. "I don't want the flower-vomiter for a wife."
"Even with the jewels thrown in?" Hermione asked.
"As tempting as I admit that bit is, it's just too weird. No," Ron said.
"Suit yourself," Hermione said, looking rather pleased with Ron's declaration. "The stepdaughter was foolish enough to whine and complain about being made to carry water the next day, but her stepmother made her go anyway. She groused all the way to the well, and when she got there, sure enough, someone was waiting for her."
"The old woman, right?" Harry said.
"No, it was a radiantly beautiful young woman dressed in a fine gown and rich jewelry like a princess," Hermione said.
"Okay, that I didn't count on," Ron said. "So what's the nasty sister do?"
"The beautiful woman asked her for a drink of water, but the girl was very haughty with her, saying, 'I have no time for you! I am expecting a very important person, and after I see her, I will wealthier and more beautiful than you. Draw your own water if you are thirsty!'" Hermione said, giving the stepsister a wickedly grating voice.
"Boy, not only mean, lazy, and ugly, but stupid into the bargain," Ron said. "I'm assuming the princess and the old woman are the same person, right?"
"Precisely," Hermione said with a nod. "The fairy, for that's what she was, fixed the stepsister with an angry glare and said, 'Long I have watched how you and your mother have treated your good stepsister. Now, whenever you open your mouth, the evil within you will be revealed.'"
"For a second there, I thought she was going to get off easy, but that does not sound good," Harry said.
"It also explains why she made the first one spew bouquets and loose gemstones. The Fae would think that was a good laugh," Ron said. "I'm almost afraid to find out what that last bit meant, though."
"So was the girl, and she ran home without even the bucket, her hand over her mouth the whole way," Hermione said. "When she finally arrived at the cottage, her mother cried out, 'Did you meet anyone?' and the girl nodded in reply."
"Putting off the inevitable here," Ron said.
"Then her mother asked her, 'Answer me! What did you get in return!' and the girl said, 'I saw a richly dressed lady, not an old one, so I refused to help her, and she cursed me!' but this last part she needn't have added as it was obvious, for with each word she spoke, a horrible frog or toad or other reptile fell from her mouth," Hermione said.
"Okay, that's a lot worse than flowers and jewels," Ron said, looking thoroughly disgusted.
Harry tried to come up with an intelligent comment, but the mental image was so strong that he could only manage to groan, "Eugh."
"By the time she had said this short sentence, three toads, two toads, two salamanders, a newt and a lizard were scurrying across the floor of their home," Hermione said. "At once the horrified stepmother told her to hold her tongue, but the girl was so accustomed to complaining that she kept forgetting herself, and by the end of the day a veritable plague of toads nested in the house."
Ron looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself.
"What?" Harry asked.
"I was just wondering whatever happened to Neville's toad, Trevor," Ron said.
"I think he finally managed to make a break for it sometime during sixth year by the lake," Harry said.
"I do hope he's all right," Hermione said, frowning.
"Who, Trevor? The lake's a good spot. I'm sure he's fine," Ron said.
"No, not the toad. Neville," Hermione said. "I wish we could get some news from Hogwarts."
"I'm sure he's okay," Ron said. "He might look a bit helpless, but he's a stouthearted little fellow."
"'Little fellow?'" Hermione repeated with a laugh. "Ron, he was taller than you by half a head at the end of last year!"
"Was he?" Ron said, looking confused. "I always sort of picture him as a first year for some reason, maybe getting a bit taller now and again."
Hermione gave him a look accompanied by a suppressed grin that Harry was relatively sure should have made Ron more than a little jealous if he'd noticed it. He hadn't really thought about it, Harry supposed, but Neville really had changed in the last couple years. He'd actually caught Parvati eyeing him appreciatively during History of Magic at one point, and that was saying something.
"Well, regardless of the charms of Neville Longbottom," Ron said, rolling his eyes as if he'd been discussing the appeal of radishes covered in caramel, "the stepsister winds up spewing toads and frogs left and right. Mind you, I think I would have taken that over the slugs Malfoy hit me with in second year, but still."
"Malfoy didn't do that to you," Hermione said automatically. "You tried to make him vomit slugs but your wand was broken and it backfired."
"Well, yeah, he called you a… you know," Ron said, looking uncomfortable. "He had it coming."
"Mudblood," Hermione said with a sort of fierce determination, "and yes, he did. Still, that was a rather horrible curse."
"It was a rather horrible insult, so I'd say that balances it out," Ron said. "Worth it, frankly. Anyway, what happened to the two girls?"
"Oh, the king came riding by on his horse the next day and stopped at the cottage," Hermione said. "The stepmother tried to throw her ugly daughter at the king, but when she greeted him, a snake, a lizard, a toad, and three newts came out of her mouth, rendering him speechless."
"He's a very polite fellow," Harry said. "I'd have screamed blue murder."
"Yes, but then the other sister came forward, offering him a spot by the fire to rest along with a drink of water, and each word was accompanied by diamonds and roses," Hermione said. "This charmed the king, and once he got from her the story of how she had come to have this gift—"
"'Gift' being a relative term," Ron interrupted.
"—he offered to marry her and make her his queen," Hermione said.
Ron looked between Harry and Hermione for a moment, then said, "Okay, I've heard daft marriage proposals in these things before—princes who fall in love with a girl after one dance, woodsmen who chop girls out of wolves' bellies, weirdos who follow girls through forests made of gold and diamonds and what have you, even a couple of blokes who weren't all that insistent that she be conscious or possibly even alive at the time—but this one proposes because she retches flowers all over the place every time she talks?"
"Flowers and highly expensive gems," Hermione said significantly. "All she would need to do is talk and the kingdom would grow to be one of the richest in the world, probably in only a few days."
"Yeah, he could just have her read the newspaper every day and turn into the wealthiest man on the planet," Harry said.
Ron frowned and said, "Okay, I see your point, but I still think it's odd."
"Men have put up with much odder personality quirks from rich prospective brides than a tendency to regurgitate diamonds," Hermione said.
"To each their own, I suppose," Ron said. "So I take it she accepted the proposal, despite never having laid eyes on this fellow before in her life, and they lived happily ever after?"
"Yes, and the stepmother was so repulsed by her own daughter that she turned her out of doors and there she died, still with a snake or toad coming forth with every word she spoke to her last," Hermione said.
"Bit harsh there," Ron said, "dying alone in the forest, surrounded by reptiles. I suppose the moral is supposed to be that we're supposed to be kind to anyone, regardless of what their station seems to be, or else pay the consequences?"
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Except I don't have any desire to spit up lilies and pearls the rest of my life any more than snakes and what have you," Ron said, "so maybe we should just avoid everybody and keep to ourselves."
Hermione opened her mouth, but stopped for a moment before saying carefully, "You know, in our current circumstances, you may have a point. Maybe trying to get information out of someone who might know about the Horcruxes is just too risky now. We'll pay for it one way or another."
Harry had to admit she was probably right, and Ron looked glum but resigned as well. At least the Pepper-Up Potion was in their systems, and Ron's hearing had certainly improved, but Hermione still looked a bit ill. In fact, Harry thought, she looked as though she might be about to…
"Oh," Ron said, staring at the puddle of sick. "That definitely isn't a pile of diamonds."
"No," Hermione said weakly, "but at least it isn't toads, either."
"Good point," he said, patting her back weakly as he used his wand to vanish it. "Why not have a bit of a lie down, eh?"
"An excellent idea," she said, heading back to her bed.
Within a few minutes, she was obviously asleep, and Ron and Harry both turned in as well. Just as he was about to nod off, Harry heard Ron whisper, "Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you think it'd take to make Malfoy spew toads?" he asked. "Is it even possible?"
"I dunno," Harry said. "If you can do slugs, I don't see why not."
Ron grunted with determination, and Harry was relatively certain that come tomorrow, Ron would have a new research project. As Harry prepared to sleep, though, he was haunted by a horrifying realization. The image of the dead stepsister's decayed skull in the forest, still with a snake coming from her mouth, was identical to the Dark Mark. It was too much to believe it was a coincidence, and he shivered, wondering why the Death Eaters had chosen this story for their most recognizable symbol. For once, he didn't want to know what Hermione thought. It was already disturbing enough without an explanation.
