Chapter Six

R.A.B.

Harry cornered Hermione after dinner that night. "Hermione," he said, rather earnestly, "I need to start looking for the Horcruxes. I've already put it off for too long."

She bit her lip. "The Ministry of Magic has an enormous library, but I don't know how much help that would be. You might be able to find the history of the objects you're looking for, or perhaps even records of something Gryffindor or Ravenclaw owned. But a library won't help you find them.

"I have some guesses as to where to find them," Harry said shrewdly. He had thought a lot about it over the summer, and he had come up with a mental list of the places Voldemort could have hidden the Horcruxes.

She brightened considerably. "Oh, I'm so glad. I have absolutely no idea where I'd look for them. Well, we can go to the library, if you want. You'll be able to find something there, I'm sure."

"Your faith in the library will never fail, will it?" he asked, grinning.

They went up to Ron's room to wait for him (he had gone to the bathroom). Hermione sank onto the bed. "Where do you think they are, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, I'm pretty sure there's one in the Riddle House, where Voldemort killed his dad and grandparents. And I've thought about it, and I think there's one at Durmstrang because it's so famous for Dark Arts, and he worshiped them… And Hermione, even though Dumbledore didn't, I think there's one somewhere in Hogwarts."

She looked skeptical. "But the diary was there. He wouldn't hide two-"

"Lucius Malfoy gave the diary to Ginny. It wasn't originally at Hogwarts."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

"I need to search for them, and I have to start soon. I've decided that I'm going to the Riddle House tomorrow morning."

Her mouth dropped open. "Tomorrow? Oh, Harry, that's so soon!"

Ron came in. They briefed him on their conversation, and his reaction was very similar to Hermione's. They both, however, decided that they were going to go with him, and there was nothing he could do to change their minds.

They went back downstairs to have some of Mrs. Weasley's banana cream pie, and then the decided to retire. They all clunked up to their respective rooms.

It didn't take very long for Harry to fall asleep. He was exhausted; it had been a long day. He had strange dreams of teaching a bunch of centaurs in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class how to Apparate.

It was still dark when he was shaken awake. Mr. Weasley was standing over him. "Harry, the Order's having a meeting, and they want everyone there."

"A meeting?" he said groggily. "What time is it?"

"Quarter after one."

"In the morning?"

He could see Mr. Weasley's smile in the dim illumination from the moon. "No, in the afternoon."

Harry rolled over and pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Ron was dressing on the other side of the room.

"'I'm going to go wake Hermione," Mr. Weasley said as he left the room.

"Why's the Order having a meeting in the middle of the night?" Harry asked, dragging himself off of the bed.

Ron shrugged. "Dad said something about the new Minister of Magic, but I don't know why they couldn't wait ten more hours…"

Five minutes later found them downstairs with Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley. He reached for the pot of Floo powder, but Mrs. Weasley laid a hand on his arm. "They can Apparate now, dear."

"Oh, right," he said, rather sheepishly.

"And anyway, we have to wait for Bill."

Bill came down two minutes later, his long hair a mess. His face looked even more distorted than usual in the shadow cast by the moon. He clapped his hands. "Everyone ready for our midnight meeting?"

"Just waiting for you, son," Mr. Weasley said briskly. And with that, he Disapparated.

Harry followed suit. Or, at least, he tried. The Apparition started normally, but about halfway through, Harry felt as though his destination was repelling him, and the process seemed to reverse. Indeed, when the squeezing sensation let up, he found himself back at the Burrow.

Mrs. Weasley, fortunately, was still there, and a moment later, Ron reappeared with a crack. "Don't try to Apparate directly into the house, dears," she said kindly. "It's been bewitched against that. Apparate in front of it."

"Hermione was obviously smart enough to foresee that, seeing as she's not here," Harry muttered, trying again.

This time he found himself shivering on the street outside of where Number Twelve, Grimauld Place was supposed to stand. When he concentrated on the address, the house seemed to blow up like a balloon from the ground. Hermione, Mr. Weasley, and Bill were already inside. With a pop, Mrs. Weasley and Ron appeared on either side of him.

They opened the door and slid inside. Making their way to the meeting room, they met several grave-looking witches and wizards.

They entered the room where the meeting was to be held. About thirty-five wizards and witches were already seated in the chairs there. In front, facing the audience, sat a podium with five chairs lined up behind it. Professor McGonagall was seated in one, Kingsley Shacklebolt next to her, and Remus Lupin beside them. The other two were empty.

Harry spent the next five minutes gazing around the rather subdued room. Most of the people around him were middle-aged, but some were the extremes either way. Elphias Dodge was without doubt the oldest; he looked to be eighty. Harry was pretty sure that he was the youngest, as both Ron and Hermione were older than him, but still people looked at him with a sort of reverence that unsettled him. Only about five more wizards entered after they did, and then the meeting began.

Professor McGonagall stood up. "I have to thank you all for dragging yourselves out of bed at this outrageous hour for a meeting that you know nothing about. You know that we wouldn't summon you here if it weren't urgent.

There was a general mummer of agreement. She continued. "I'll get straight to the point. As many of you attended voted for the new Minister of Magic yesterday-"

(A/N- Harry, Ron, and Hermione did, too, because they're of age, but I didn't even think about that until now, and I really don't want to go back and write about it. So just pretend they went to the Ministry and voted for… I dunno, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was one of the candidates. Use your imagination.)

"-You know that one of the candidates was Domohov Bokonovsky. Last night I received information that he won. But that's not why I dragged you out of bed. One of our spies has also just revealed to us that Bokonovsky is a Death Eater. So that's our dilemma. We have a Death Eater as a Minister of Magic."

And outraged, fearful muttering swept the room. Harry looked at the Weasleys on either side of him. Ron's mouth was contorted in an angry grimace. Mrs. Weasley had her hands over her mouth and Hermione looked stricken. Mr. Weasley had an expression of mingled fear and surprise on his face, and Bill- Bill was taking five Galleons from a young wizard in the next row. At Harry's strange look, he shrugged. "I bet him that he was a Death Eater last week."

Harry shook his head. Only Bill….

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and silence swept the room like a plague. "We had suspicions that Bokonovsky was a Death Eater, but only recently have we proved it. The reason we had to meet here tonight was to decide what to do. We can't have a Death Eater rampaging about as Minister of Magic."

"Put him out of commission, I say," growled a voice that Harry recognized as Moody.

"Alastor, murder is the way of the Dark Lord, not the way Dumbledore has chosen for us," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "I was thinking more along the lines of exposing his allegiance to the Dark Lord."

Moody muttered something to the effect of, "I wasn't talking murder, only severe injury."

"If we can tell enough people without going public with it," Lupin said, rubbing his chin, "we could wait a month or so, then come out and say it, and we'd have support to make enough people believe it to get him thrown out of office."

"The only evidence we have is our spy's word. While we may trust it, no one else will."

"Then we have to get more evidence, or find another way to get him out of office," Bill piped up. "If we don't have enough incriminating evidence, exposing him won't work."

They debated back and forth for nearly an hour. Harry, not hearing anything new after the first fifteen minutes, had to force his mind back to what was happening more than once. He couldn't think of any way to incriminate the new Minister, but he knew it had to be done. The Order- and the wizarding world as they knew it, for that matter- was on its way out if they allowed a Death Eater to have the post.

In the end, it was decided that they would convince as many people as possible as fast as they could that Bokonovsky was a Death Eater, and in the meantime, try to counter anything he did that could lead to disaster.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley excused themselves, saying that they needed to take care of some business with someone. Harry's mind was in turmoil; he needed somewhere to think. He slipped out of his chair, unnoticed by Bill, Ron, and Hermione, and tiptoed through the hall and up to the drawing room.

He lighted a candle with his wand, relishing the fact that he could now do magic outside of school, and sank onto the dusty couch, his head in his hands. The room was eerie in the flickering candlelight, and the window was open, allowing a small, chilly breeze into the room. It stirred the huge tapestry that covered the entire wall above the fireplace.

Harry kept trying not to look at the tapestry; it only brought back painful memories of Sirius. But his eyes, independent of his will, kept traveling back to it. He couldn't get it out of his mind, as though it wanted him to come and look at it again.

Well, he thought, why not?

So he stood up and walked to it.

His eyes fell first on the name Narcissa Black. A thin, black line tied her to Lucius Malfoy, and a line from the middle of that one showed their only son, Draco.

Harry gazed at the tapestry for several minutes before he allowed his eyes to wander to the small hole in the fabric that had once been Sirius' name. His brother, Regulus Black-

Regulus Black.

Harry didn't finish his thought. His mind was whirling as the night of Dumbledore's death came swimming back to him. The note in the locket…. He had read it over and over again, frustrated that he couldn't know who it was. Hermione had searched the library for hours, but found no one who matched it. It made perfect sense! Regulus had been a Death Eater- or, at least, pretended to be one, and discovered Voldemort's secret. How could it be anyone else?

Harry's breathing increased as he thought about the note he had seen barely a month before, the note that had been found in the fake locket…

To the Dark Lord-

I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and hope to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B.

R.A.B.

Regulus Black.