A/N: Another long episode here. BE ADVISED, THIS IS PART TWO OF A TWO-PART UPLOAD! GO BACK AND READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER FIRST! Thank you, that is all.

My theory on Harry and Hermione: Relationships between best friends are what love songs are made of. Bickering couples are daytime talk show fodder.

"Are you sure it's here," Hermione asked as she ascended the steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. "You said yourself that Tom only told Bellatrix to hide it somewhere safe."

Harry took her hand and squeezed it soothingly. "Too true, love. However, he told her to keep it somewhere safe, where none would be able to access it. Can you think of any place safer than Gringotts?" Hermione shook her head. "Neither can I." He shook his head as they made their way through the large, bronze main doors and into the small entrance hall, where another pair of silver doors were engraved with a warning:

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

"It always seemed so ridiculous to think that anyone would try and rob this place," Harry said soberly. "Now we're trying to do exactly that." He shook his head and led the way through the silver doors and into the bank itself. "It never gets old, does it," he asked, noticing the look of wonder on Hermione's face. Harry laughed as she shook her head slowly. "Come on, we have business to attend to." He and Hermione walked to the head of one of the empty lines, where a white-haired goblin was sitting behind the cage, counting golden Galleons.

"My name is Harry Potter-" he began, but the seemingly ancient goblin quickly interrupted him.

"I know who you are, human. We have been waiting on your arrival since the notification for the will reading was sent to your magical guardian. If you would follow me," he said, hopping off the stool and walking along the counter.

"Will reading," Harry asked the witch next to him.

"Sirius."

Harry's stomach dropped like a stone and a grimace marred his complexion. He'd managed to stuff the loss of his godfather in the back of his mind since his joining with Tom's soul piece, but here it was again, slapping him in the face. This wasn't why he had come here and he certainly wasn't prepared to deal with Sirius' death right now. Unfortunately, the goblins were. "Are you coming," the ugly little thing asked, noticing the two humans hadn't moved from their place in line.

Thankfully, Hermione came to his rescue. "Yes, we're coming. Use your barriers and shut it out for now," she advised Harry. "We can deal with it after we're done here." At his nod, she squeezed his hand in support and followed the diminutive being to the end of the long counter.

"Wait here." He pointed with a long, crooked finger at a bench near a hallway that led back to the inner workings of the bank. "Your account manager will be along shortly."

"Let's practice working on our Occlumency barriers," Hermione offered, curling her legs around herself. "It will help us focus for this meeting."

Harry nodded, retaking her hand. He crossed his legs underneath him as his lover had and blanked his mind.

Later

"Mr. Potter!"

The goblin calling his name stirred Harry from his calming meditation session. He roused himself and took stock of his senses. Hermione was correct, the meditation had succeeded in helping him focus his thoughts. He would thank her properly later. Speaking of...

"Time to go, love," he whispered in Hermione's ear. She came to as quickly as he had and stood with him after uncurling her legs from underneath her. "We're ready," he said to the goblin once they had collected themselves and they followed the grotesque fellow through the hall they had been waiting at the entrance of. He led them past a few doors that looked alike until reaching one no different than the others. The goblin motioned them in before following and shutting the door behind them. Harry and Hermione took seats facing the miniature one the goblin placed himself in.

After he had spent a minute innocuously arranging the papers in front of him, the goblin lifted his head and studied Harry intently. "You don't recognize me, do you Mr. Potter?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Should I?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I've only been here once before and I only met one goblin. Would you be Griphook?"

The goblin nodded, showing a sharp, toothy grin. "Indeed. You may not be aware of this, but once a goblin is assigned an account to manage, it is his responsibility for life. I was your parents' account manager and your father's parents before that. When you have children," he offered, briefly glancing at a blushing Hermione, "provided I am still alive, I will oversee the creation and administration of their accounts. At any time, should you have a question regarding your accounts, you may contact me directly by owl post or in person here at Gringotts. I say this to you because it seems you have reached the age of majority, although it is well over a year ahead of schedule." He held up a hand to forestall Harry's objection. "There is no need to explain anything, Mr. Potter. We here at Gringotts respect our client's right to privacy. With these new circumstances, there are a few additional issues that must be dealt with." He slid a scroll across the table for Harry to examine. "This parchment outlines the transfer for control of the Potter family vaults to you. They were held in trusteeship for you by Gringotts until you attained your age of majority." After reading through the concise form, he picked up the quill that appeared on his right and scribbled his name. He nearly cursed at the pain emanating from his non-writing hand.

"A blood quill," he yelled, dropping the item in shock. He glared up at the staring goblin. "You are unaware of my history with these, so I'll allow your ignorance this time."

"I apologize, Mr. Potter." Griphook bowed his head slightly. "I assumed you were aware of the need for blood in the sealing of magical contracts. All of the forms today will need to be signed with the quill. This next item," he continued, passing another roll of parchment along the table, "transfers the contents of your Trust Vault from its current location into the Potter family vault."

Harry studied the new contract, gritting his teeth slightly and signing it when he had read it through. "How many more," he asked, rubbing the sore hand, which Hermione thankfully took over.

The goblin withdrew a larger roll of parchment from the box next to him. "This is the last, Mr. Potter. The will of Sirius Black." He slowly unrolled the long scroll and began to read. "I, Sirius Black III, being of sound mind and body (well that sound mind part is debatable) do hereby bequeath all of my possessions to my godson, Harry James Potter. These possessions include the residence at 12 Grimmauld Place and everything contained within, including Witherwings the hippogriff and the Black family house elf, Kreacher. He's a bastard, as you know Harry, but sending him away is dangerous to others. I also leave you the contents of the Black family vault, number 711. I hope it brings you some happiness in these dark times. Good luck, Pup." Griphook looked up. "Thus ends the will of Sirius Black." He passed the will across to Harry and looked at him expectantly.

"Is that all," Harry asked. That was an awful lot of parchment for just that tiny little will. Griphook gave a toothy grin and Harry mentally shrugged. Probably some stupid inheritance fine print. He lifted the quill to the parchment but Hermione's hand on his stopped him before he could sign.

"The goblin is hiding something. I think he's planning on stealing money from you," she said softly, eyes closed as she combed through the goblin's memories.

Harry turned to the gaping goblin. "Trying to rob me, are you?"

"Mr. Potter, I-" Harry precluded his protests with a raised hand, mirroring Griphook's own action earlier.

"Before you anger me greatly by calling my mate a liar, you might want to consider your response, Griphook. If you plan on continuing to serve the Potter family, current and future, it would behoove you to know that I value honesty above all."

The goblin appeared to consider his reply for a moment. "Mr. Potter, my heartfelt apologies to you and your mate if I offended you in any way. The item the young lady refers to is a commission many wizards and witches decide to reward their account manager with when handling large transactions such as this." Hermione loudly cleared her throat, causing the goblin to squeak. "Fine, it's not a commission," Griphook grumbled.

"Much better," Harry replied. He handed the parchment back across the table. "Fix it." Once Griphook had amended the document and Hermione had given the okay to sign, he scratched his name across the bottom in his blood. "Now, as for your payment. Crucio!" Harry only allowed the curse to linger for a moment before the releasing the goblin. "Steal from me again, Griphook, and you'll know true pain." He held out his hand. "My new vault keys. Now."

Later, when they had left the conference room and Griphook behind, and were waiting for a cart down to the vaults below, Harry gave Hermione the passionate kiss he had promised himself earlier he would gift her. "You've been a fantastic help today, love," he said after breaking the snog. "Your suggestion to meditate probably saved Griphook's life, even if he doesn't know it. Masterful use of Legilimency to catch his attempt at thievery, too."

Hermione simply blushed and smiled back at him.

"Key, please," the goblin sitting at the entrance to the vault carts ground out. Harry offered him the key to the Black vault, which he examined for a moment before returning. "Follow me," he said, leading the way into the cavern entrance.

As the cart flew down the rails towards the higher numbered and therefore longer tenured and more secure vaults, he thought about how truly lucky he was to have the smartest witch the wizarding world had seen since her ancestor, Rowena Ravenclaw. Destroying the Horcruxes was no cakewalk, but it was child's play compared to dealing with Voldemort. Her knowledge of spells, curses, and counter-curses was unrivaled. He was contemplating assigning her something to truly test her admittedly vast amount of knowledge, both magical and mundane. The cart came to a sudden stop, derailing his train of thought.

"Black vault," the goblin called out, disembarking. Harry followed, turning back when Hermione didn't.

"We have things to do," she tried to remind him.

"Just a peek," Harry promised. He shrugged at Hermione's glare. "You never know, we might find something we could use." She rolled her eyes at his weak excuse to see exactly what was in one of his new vaults. He could tell, however, that she was just as anxious to see what it contained, even if she did a better job of hiding it. After completing their inspection, they closed the vault behind them and approached the cart.

"Climb aboard and we'll begin the trip back to the top," the bored goblin intoned.

Harry and Hermione shared a look.

"Imperio."

Divider Line Here

In his new property at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry couldn't help but go back to that night in the Department of Mysteries. Tainted though his mother's shade was, it was correct when it said that Sirius' death was his fault. If he had done any number of things differently, his godfather might still be alive. Merlin, the two-way mirror Sirius had given him had been sitting in his trunk, just waiting to be used! Even asking Kreacher a more specific question could have saved so much heartbreak.

The weight of a loss that could have been prevented sat heavily on his chest, nearly suffocating him. Curled up on a couch in the sitting room, his head in Hermione's lap, a single tear tracked its way down his cheek. Another side effect of joining with the shard, he thought morosely. He couldn't even shed a few tears for the man he had loved as a father. Harry angrily wiped the dampness from his cheek.

"I know you're hurting right now," Hermione offered, setting down the book she was reading and stroking his untameable black hair, "and that you want to think this is all your fault, but it's not." She turned his head to stare into her eyes. "If Kreacher had not given such an intentionally vague response as to where Sirius was, if the headmaster had confided in you as to what resided in the Department of Mysteries, even if Professor Snape had taken your Occlumency training seriously. Any of these things would have resulted in a different fate for Sirius and they all fall on the shoulders of others." Hermione sighed.

"You may not want to hear this, but some of the fault lies with Sirius himself."

She held up a finger to forestall his interruption as he tensed up. "Let me explain, please. Had Sirius not toyed around with Bellatrix and taken her down quickly, he may have survived the duel. My point is that, if you look hard enough, you can find fault with anyone for Sirius' death. You can't keep blaming yourself." Hermione leaned down to kiss him softly. "You have to quit this. We have plans we must complete."

Harry gave a small smirk. "You're right of course, love."

"You should be used to that by now, I would think."

"That I should," he said, finally laughing. "What did I do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled and stroked her cheek softly.

"I ask myself the same thing," she said good-naturedly, cupping his hand and softly kissing the palm. "Should we have our guests fetched?"

Harry sat up, straightening his outfit. "I suppose we should. DOBBY," he yelled to nowhere in particular.

A loud pop signaled the house-elf's arrival. "How can Dobby be assisting Harry Potter, sir," the large-eyed, bat-eared elf asked.

"Hello, Dobby. Have you been keeping an eye on my new disciples, like I asked?"

The elf bobbed his head quickly. "Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir! They's be laying together right now."

Harry shared a look with Hermione, who raised her eyebrow. "Why don't you go bring them here?"

The elf nearly shook with pleasure at obeying Harry's orders. "Right away, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby be's going to get them right now!" And with that, Dobby popped off.

"I still can't believe you called Dobby to your service," Hermione said, disapprovingly. "I know that he wanted to and, thanks my ancestor, I now understand the bonds house-elves have with their masters a little better. It just seems to go against everything I believe. Or believed."

"I know you don't like it, love, but I needed him. Kreacher was no longer trustworthy and had to be disposed of. I needed a house-elf and the only way to secure Dobby's services correctly was to bind him to my household. At least we don't have to listen to Mrs. Black anymore," he offered, trying for levity.

Hermione didn't seem to be buying it. "Just because Dobby got that horrible portrait off the wall-" A loud pop and the arrival of three bodies saved Harry from any further rebuttal. He quickly sat up from Hermione's lap. Both schooled their features, the lightness and love from earlier disappearing, to be replaced by unfeeling stares at the two naked humans and one tiny elf.

"Dobby be's presenting Miss Wheezy and the former master." Dobby bowed low and, at a nod from Harry, disappeared with a pop.

"Hello, Ginerva. Hello, Malfoy," Harry began congenially. "I trust we didn't interrupt anything important?"

"You," Draco seethed. "I should kill you for what you did to my father, Potter. You ruined-"

"SHUT UP, MALFOY," Harry roared. Draco shut up. "Your father deserved what he got. He's lucky he's only in Azkaban. But that's not why you're here. I have big plans for you, Draco. Your services are required in destroying Voldemort."

The naked boy laughed out loud for a moment. "You must be kidding me. You, Potter? You don't stand a snowball's chance in hell against the Dark Lord." He laughed again before turning to the nude girl next to him. "This is your master, Weaselette? The one who bound you to his will? Pathetic," he drawled.

Draco missed the redhead narrowing her eyes in anger. The blinding pain he was now familiar with sped through his privates and he writhed on the ground in agony for a moment before stopping.

"You'll not speak to our master that way," she whispered in his ear.

Harry nodded his head at the smiling girl. "Thank you, Ginerva. As I was saying, Draco, I have use for you in my plans to eliminate your former master. You belong to Ginerva and she belongs to me; therefore, you belong to me." He nodded to Hermione, who stood and walked over to Draco and kicked him over onto his back.

"He has the Mark," she verified, pinning his arm to the ground with her heel and inspecting the tattoo.

Draco groaned, still recovering from the painful abuse of his genitals, and looked up at the woman holding him to the ground. "See something you like, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not in a million years, Malfoy. Not ever."

"Shall I mark him now," she asked Harry. At his nod, she turned back to the cross blond boy. "My new version of the Protean Charm would humble even Voldemort, Draco. Let me show you." She aimed her wand at a point on his chest directly over his heart.

A deep, burning sensation began in that spot on Draco's skin, causing him to cry out once more. However, it lasted only a few moments. When he looked down he was surprised to see a blood-red, heart-shaped tattoo crowned by an impressive rack of antlers on his chest. "What have you done to me?" He reached up and rubbed the still tender area.

"The hoof-print and rack of The Red Hart," Hermione offered. "The sigul of my love. Stop your fussing," she spat, slapping his hand away from rubbing the magical tattoo, "only those similarly marked can see it." She pointed down to her waistline, where Draco could see her own Mark peeking out from under the top of her skirt.

"You'll get me killed! The Dark Lord will know I've taken anothers' Mark," Draco fretted.

"Calm yourself, Malfoy," Harry warned. "Voldemort won't have any reason to look at your bare chest and, even if he did, Hermione's Charms work is above reproach. The Dark Lord will remain unaware of your change in loyalty."

"Loyalty," Draco scoffed. "You know I'll never be loyal to you, Potter. What makes you think I won't inform the Dark Lord of what has happened here the second I leave?"

"You mean besides the fact that he would kill you for betraying him," he asked as Hermione rejoined him on the couch. He took her hand in his and kissed it softly. "This one here really is the smartest witch in ages. She managed to take Voldemort's Dark Mark and make it so much more. Not only does it allow me to recall you, it is also bundled with aspects of the Fidelius Charm, a Hardening Charm and a few minor Shielding Charms. A minor Memory Charm acts as a final fail safe, in case someone decides to tamper with your mind and withdraw protected memories and knowledge. Not bad for a Muggle-born, eh? You should thank her for protecting your worthless arse, Malfoy."

"Screw you, Potter," Malfoy replied, only to immediately contort in unspeakable pain on the ground once again.

"Did I forget to mention the Cruciatus derivative in there as well? Shame on me." Harry stood, pacing above the boy screaming and writhing in torment. "Can you feel the hooves pressing into your chest, Draco? Does it feel like being gored by a full rack of antlers?" Draco finally stopped wailing and curled up in the fetal position on the ground. "You will serve me, Draco, and you will serve me well. The consequences of failure are grave. The rewards of success..." he trailed off, nodding at his redheaded disciple. She winked at a staring Draco, who lost himself in pleasurable sensations for a half-moment. "Well, I'm sure Ginerva has fully apprized you on those."

Draco sighed, knowing that he had no other choice. "What is it that you want from me," he asked resignedly.

Harry clapped his hands. "Much better attitude, Malfoy. For now I want you to do nothing other than the things you are being assigned. Don't draw attention to yourself for any reason. I have a feeling that your former master will have need of you soon. When he does, you will inform me through Ginerva. I'll send Hedwig to you with any instructions." At this a large, black owl flew down from her hidden perch above the bookshelves and landed on Harry's shoulder.

Draco looked quizzically at the owl staring at him. "I thought your bird was white."

"Hedwig was too noticeable in her white feathers," Harry said, stroking the preening bird. "I gave her a bit of a color change. I like it, don't you girl?" The aforementioned owl flapped her wings and nipped affectionately at her master's ear. "Dobby," Harry called out after Hedwig had left his shoulder and flown back to her perch.

"Master called for Dobby," the elf asked after popping into the room.

"Take Draco and Ginerva back to where you found them, please." The elf nodded and disappeared with the two teens, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once more. "Well, love, we now have our spy in place," Harry sighed, pulling Hermione into his lap as he sat down once more. "And there's only one Horcrux remaining. Luckily enough for us, somehow Kreacher managed to remove Slytherin's locket from the cave by the sea and bring it here. You don't want to know what we would have had to go through to get that thing from where Tom originally hid it." His eyes clouded over for a moment in sadness as he thought of the real reason for bringing Dobby into his house.

"What is it," Hermione asked, not missing the mournful gaze on her beloved's face.

Harry shook his head and gave her a soft kiss. "It's no longer important, love." He gave her another kiss, this one much more passionate. "What should we do with the rest of our day?"

Hermione moaned against his touch. "Oh, I can think of a few things."

The Burrow

In his fifth floor bedroom, Ronald Weasley reclined on his bed and thought. Many that knew him would be tempted to make a joke at the idea that Ron may have something on his mind requiring serious contemplation, but he was in no mood to be lighthearted. The headmaster of Hogwarts and the leader of the resistance group known as the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore, was in a coma, his magic bound. Most everyone expected his death before the school year began. His two best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, were missing. Nobody had seen either in nearly a week and, even more disturbingly, it was becoming harder to find any trace that they had ever existed in the first place.

Hermione's parents were under the assumption that their names were Wendell and Monica Wilkins and that they had never had any children. Harry's aunt, uncle, and cousin had been found yesterday, in St. Mungo's of all places. They had apparently been dropped off a few days prior, transfigured into gerbils, remembering nothing of their attackers or even of the fact that they were human. Both families had obviously been subjected to severe memory charms. A quiet, but furious, search was now being conducted, ostensibly for both Harry and Hermione, but mostly for The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Ron was losing hope, however. An emergency meeting of the Order was conducted in the Burrow the previous evening and most of the assembled were of the same mind, except for a few holdouts. Many of its members voiced the concern that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would make his move on the wizarding world once he learned of the loss of Dumbledore. Snape pledged to keep this knowledge from the Dark Lord. Very few knew what had become of the ancient wizard and it was vital that it stay that way as long as possible. He also told of his investigation into the minds of the Dursleys as well as the Grangers, which yielded only the knowledge that whoever had altered the minds of the Muggles was a very powerful witch or wizard and their memory charms were unbreakable. The newly christened Wilkinses were allowed to go back to their home, where they expressed their immediate intent to relocate to Australia.

The Dursleys were a trickier situation. Having no memory of being human, they were committed to St. Mungo's Long Term Care ward for treatment, although Ron was of the mind they should just transfigure them back into gerbils and let them live out their lives that way. The least those bastards deserved for the way they treated his best mate, he thought to himself.

Unable to lay in bed and do nothing any longer, he wrapped himself in his robe and made his way down to his favorite room, the kitchen. His mother had coped with the stress of the past few days by cooking and baking. The large pumpkin pie sitting in the middle of the table was testament to that. Unfortunately, it seemed that he would find no solace in eating tonight. His legendary appetite just wasn't there. Ron sat down, his head cradled in his hands. There must be something he could do. He was interrupted in his musings by the sound of the back door lightly creaking as it opened, followed by a few soft steps. He quickly withdrew his wand, pointing it at the shadows where the noise had come from. "Identify yourself!"

"Put your wand down, you stupid oaf," his sister, Ginny, called as she stepped from the shadows. Her own wand was raised and pointed in his direction. She scowled at him until he finally lowered his arm. After a moment, she lowered hers as well.

"Bloody hell, Gin! What are you doing out so late," he asked, looking his younger sister over. "You're not even supposed to be out at all!"

She shrugged off the arm he had comfortingly placed on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself." Ginny made for the hallway leading to her first floor bedroom, but a hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. "Let me go, Ronald."

Now Ron knew something was wrong. Ginny only called him Ronald when she was really peeved at him or when she was scared. He hadn't done anything lately that would cause her to be angry with him so he figured this had to do with Harry.

The boy she had a huge crush on.

Who had disappeared without a trace.

Ron could have smacked himself for his stupidity. Of course Ginny was upset about Harry going missing. Well this was something he could fix. "Look, Gin, we'll find Harry. I'm sure he's fine and we'll see him soon. Maybe we could put a Tracking Charm on a letter for him and send Pig out." Ron was unprepared for her reply, a dark and mirthless laugh.

"You really are some kind of stupid, aren't you? Do you think something as simple as a Tracking Charm on a piece of mail hasn't been thought of already? Sweet Morgana, Ron. It's unbelievable that Hermione had even the smallest of crushes on you."

"Hermione has a crush on me," Ron asked, truly interested in this bit of information.

"Had," she repeated. "Trust me when I say that Hermione, wherever she is, couldn't be bothered with a self-interested dullard like you." She turned back for her room, but Ron painfully gripped her upper arm and pulled her back towards him.

"Talk to me like that, will you," he huffed, dragging her towards the stairs. "We'll see what Mum has to say when she finds out her baby girl has been sneaking out at night."

In response, she pulled her wand and gave his a strong Stinging Hex to his cheek. "Let me go, Ronald, or I'll give you another one in someplace far more sensitive.

His eyes wide, he quickly dropped her arm before schooling his features once again. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" He tried to keep his voice low enough that he wouldn't wake the rest of the house with their argument. "I'm trying to be nice and all you can do is call names. What's your issue?"

"Right now, it's you." Ginny lowered her wand, but poked him hard in the chest with her sharp nails. "Leave me alone, Ronald Bilius, or I'll jinx you so bad you'll be in St. Mungo's for the entire summer, right next to Harry's aunt and uncle."

Ron screwed his face up. "How do you know about that? You weren't in on the meeting!"

Ginny smiled, an evil, feral grin that worried Ron as much as her laugh had earlier. "Don't worry about it." The grin disappeared and his sister was deadly serious once more. "Stay out of my business or there will be consequences."

"What happened to you," he asked softly as Ginny sauntered back to her room. "What happened to my little sister?"

He nearly missed her quiet reply. "She's gone." Her door slammed.

A/N: One chapter left. I'm sure you can guess what's going on there :) Hopefully that will be up soon. Thanks for indulging me in this. I appreciate all your feedback!

AZ