A/N: More thanks to the amazing anogete for her efforts in beta reading this chapter. Also, lot of love to my readers and reviewers; I am so pleased by all of the guesswork everyone's been doing trying to figure out what's going on in this story!
Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired.
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The week following the Halloween feast, Hermione was as busy as ever with her schoolwork, extra Potions studies, and her late night work with wandless magic, Occlumency and Legilimency. Her wandless magic had grown quite impressive, even by her own exacting standards. She had now worked up to wandless Transfiguration and could Transfigure things in her room into other objects and back again with no errors. She was also able to perform wandless Silent Speech, and though she didn't tell them exactly what she was doing, she would annoy Ron, Neville, and Harry at meals by speaking to their minds as though she were their consciences.
'Harry, why don't you stop being such a prat and ask Ginny out for tea at the next Hogsmeade visit? She's been miserable without you!' she commented one lunch, which caused Harry to gaze longingly at Ginny from across the Gryffindor table. Hermione was quite pleased with herself, particularly because no one would ever ask her if she was really talking to them, and they would usually follow her advice. She took this as a good sign that her friends already thought of her as the voice of their consciences.
While the boys were at Quidditch practice one evening, Hermione found herself bundled against the chilled November air, her bushy mane blowing wildly behind her, sitting in the seats surrounding the pitch.
She had so many riddles in her mind, and though she had no dreams since the one where Snape told her to look at a page in a book, she thought of those few strange nighttime words from Snape and Dumbledore often. What did it all mean, and what did the bits of information have to do with one another?
These thoughts were heavy on her mind as she heard screams coming from the Quidditch practice. She expected to see a lot of things when she looked up, but the last thing she imagined was to find Harry hissing at Ron's broom in Parseltongue, a broom that had been Transfigured into a serpent. Ron was shrieking in horror at Harry, who seemed to be encouraging the serpent to attack his friend. Hermione was dumbfounded by the scene.
Before she had time to ponder what in Merlin's name was going on, Ron had wriggled free of the snake and began plummeting towards the ground. Without thinking, she reached out her hands and cast, "Arresto Momentum!" To her amazement, Ron's fall slowed, and he landed on the earth with a gentle thud.
Hermione sprinted down from her seat, pulling her wand out to make it look like she had completed the task with it rather than with wandless magic, and darted towards Ron, who was dusting dirt from his practice robes. The rest of the team, including Harry, was flying down to dismount their brooms around their Keeper.
"Ron! What happened?" Hermione gasped as she grabbed his arm.
"He's completely bloody lost it, Hermione. I don't know what's got into him!" Ron glared at Harry as he stalked off the pitch towards the castle.
"We should get you to Madam Pomfrey, Ron. Are you alright? How do you feel?" Hermione ran her wand over Ron to look for any internal injuries.
"You know we can't tell anyone about this, Hermione. What will everyone think? And he'll be expelled for sure. Please don't tell." Ron regarded her with an expression more serious than she had ever seen cross his freckled features.
"I promise I won't, Ron. You know I just want to help." Hermione bit her lip and tried to stop her hair from blowing into her face in the cold.
"Come on, mate, we'll get you up to bed for the night," offered a fourth year Chaser as a couple members of the team escorted Ron back to the castle.
Hermione encouraged Ginny to hang back. "Ginny, tell me what happened," she implored in a whisper as they began walking.
"Oh, it was just awful. I hit the Quaffle into the center hoop that Ron was supposed to be guarding, and Harry just lost it. He started screaming about how stupid Ron was, and how he didn't deserve to be on the team. I could almost see his eyes glowing red in the dark. I was absolutely terrified! But then, Harry pulled out his wand and turned Ron's broom into a snake, and the snake started making to attack! And Harry just egged it on!" Ginny took deep breaths in the midst of her rambling recollection of the evening's events.
"That's just terrible," Hermione groaned, pressing her fingers against her eyes. "What on earth has got into him?"
"I don't know, Hermione. It's like half the time he's the normal Harry, even if he's a bit more angry than usual, but then the other half, he's so scary, like he's possessed. It reminds me of…" Ginny trailed off, her cheeks blushing bright scarlet.
"Who does it remind you of, Ginny?" Hermione knew as soon as the words left her lips.
"Tom," she replied simply, referring to the younger version of Voldemort who had possessed her in her first year.
"It isn't like that, I'm certain," Hermione offered comfortingly, patting her friend's elbow.
"Maybe not exactly, but you have to admit that sometimes, when you look at Harry, you don't see him. You don't see those bright green eyes. You see red ones. You see Voldemort. Not that I'm saying he's actually turning evil or becoming Voldemort or anything, but he's changing." Ginny's pace quickened.
Hermione tried to keep up, and her breath became labored. "I do know what you mean, Ginny, I'm just not sure how to help him. Maybe you should speak with him. I think that he needs you. He's been trying to shut you out, but you can't let him."
"I know," Ginny replied with a sigh. "I just don't think I can reach him anymore."
When they returned to the common room, it was deserted, and Ginny left for the sixth year room, while Hermione headed for her Head Girl room. The image of Harry coaxing a Transfigured serpent to attack his friend was fresh in her mind, and the evil gleam in his eyes sent shivers down her spine.
Hermione had had enough, and the next night, after dinner, she went to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to speak to Remus. When she got there, she found his door open, and Remus and Professor Caveo speaking together over a goblet of what Hermione assumed was the Wolfsbane potion.
She knocked on the opened door, and both men looked up at her.
"Ah, Hermione, what a coincidence! I was just speaking with Eli, and he says that your work together is going well!" Remus beamed at her with pride.
"Hello, Professor Lupin, Professor Caveo." She nodded at both men and smiled.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," Caveo replied steadily, eyeing her with what looked to be suspicion. "I was just leaving. I wish you both a pleasant night." He stood to walk towards Hermione.
"Thank you again for your help, Eli," Remus said with a serious expression. "I wasn't sure how things were going to go when I came back."
"Think nothing of it, Remus, though I daresay in the future I may have Miss Granger brew it, and you will be in her debt rather than mine." He winked subtly at Hermione.
"I am sure she is quite capable," Remus replied. "Good night, Eli."
"Good night, Remus, Miss Granger." With a flourish of black robes, Caveo disappeared into the corridor.
"And what can I do for you, Hermione? Something tells me that this is not a simple social call." Remus motioned for her to sit, and conjured a pot of tea. "Tea?"
Hermione smiled. "Please. You are right, it is not a social call, sir."
Remus chuckled as he handed her a cup of tea. "Please don't call me 'sir' when we're outside of class. It makes me feel old." He frowned as he looked into his own teacup. "I have had quite enough of that feeling as it is."
"I know what you mean, Remus, and that's sort of why I am here." Her lip found the comforting spot between her teeth.
"I wondered when I would be seeing you here for a serious chat, Hermione, though why don't you tell me what's bothering you rather than my hazarding a guess?"
"Well, to cut right to the chase, it's Harry. I am sure you have noticed, but lately he has been behaving very strangely. At first I thought it was just his anger running away with him, but now I think it might be something different. I hope that we are speaking in confidence?"
His frown turned to a deeper look of concern. "If you're concerned that I might go to Minerva with something Harry has done, you needn't be. I am sure we can think of something to solve whatever is bothering you without the Headmistress being any the wiser."
"Thank you for that. Well, last night, Harry attacked Ron at Quidditch practice. He turned Ron's broom into a serpent and set it to attack. He's accidentally hurt people with magic in the past, but I have never seen him do something so deliberate to a friend. It was like it wasn't even him. He almost killed Ron." She took an uneasy sip of her tea.
Remus' frown deepened even further, accenting the worry lines on his face. "I was afraid that something like this would happen."
"You were?" Hermione asked with shock.
"Against my advice, Harry has been quite immersed in the study of the Dark Arts of late. He claimed it was to find ways to use Voldemort's own weapons against him, but I worry that Harry has become obsessed with them now. Once you get that deep into the Dark Arts, it is difficult to save yourself from their influence." Remus rubbed at his temples.
"While I am sure that's part of it, Remus, I think there may be more to it than that, though it will be difficult for me to explain without sounding crazy. You're just one of the few people I can talk to about it, because you're one of the only people whom I know I can trust." She tugged absentmindedly at a lock of her brown hair.
"I do hope that you know that you can trust me, Hermione."
Hermione let out a breath she didn't remember holding. "I do. Well, I'll just get right to it. I think that Harry's scar might be a Horcrux. I think Harry might be holding the final piece of the puzzle, and he doesn't even know it. It has to be affecting him somehow."
Remus looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "It would certainly explain why a curse that leaves no physical evidence would leave behind such a distinctive mark, though I am afraid I know very little about Horcruxes. They are part of a very obscure branch of Dark Magic."
"Do you think that Dumbledore knew?" Hermione finally allowed herself to ask the question aloud that had been bothering her since she first guessed that Harry might be in possession of the final Horcrux.
"I don't believe so. He may have theorized, but I don't even know if Dumbledore is powerful enough to sense such a thing and know what it was. If he thought so, he certainly would have said something to Harry, don't you think?"
"I suppose you are right. It's just a lot to think about." She paused and gazed at the floor. "I'm so worried for him. So much is depending on him, and yet, I am afraid for what it might do to him. I wonder if he's going to make it out of this in one piece."
Remus regarded her with an almost fatherly concern. "I have tried speaking to him about his behavior, and I must say that I agree with your assessment of him of late. Something is changing in Harry. I sense a great darkness in him when he's near, but I cannot quite put my finger on it."
Hermione's eyes widened for a moment, but she said nothing about the thought that suddenly occurred to her. "I guess we will just have to hope for the best."
"I know that telling you not to worry would be a futile effort, but let me at least say this to you. The end of this battle is soon upon us, and someone is going to win one way or the other. Soon we shall see what way Harry is going to go." Remus' tone was one of resignation.
Hermione sighed and raised herself from her seat. "Thank you for talking with me. Sometimes I find I need someone a bit more adult, and I get too nervous around Professor McGonagall."
Remus let out a deep laugh. "I am almost forty years old, and I feel the same way around her. She's definitely got a presence!"
"Well, I hope you have a good evening, Remus. I suppose I will see you in class." She smiled and made for the door.
"Good night, Hermione, and remember: love saved Harry from Voldemort once. It will take all the love we have for him to save him again."
As Hermione headed for her room in almost a full run, she kept hearing Remus' voice saying, "I sense a great darkness in him when he's near."
Dumbledore's voice joined his in her mind, chorusing with, "I always knew that the dark was there, haunting him, but every time I am near him, I can sense it more and more, and it wears on me."
Dumbledore and Aberforth hadn't been talking about Snape at all. They had been talking about Harry! It was so simple, yet she had originally been so convinced that it was about Snape. They had never mentioned the name of the person to whom they were referring, and it would have been just as easy for McGonagall to make the same mistake that Hermione had. Dumbledore did know that some part of Voldemort had infected Harry, and he probably realized too late that it was the Horcrux.
She tossed and turned in bed all night, and her dreams returned with extreme clarity. This time, however, Dumbledore stared at her from the steps, Snape's wand raised in the moment directly after casting the killing curse, and said to her, "It can be done." Snape added, "You know what must be done."
Abandoning sleep, Hermione mentally catalogued all of the information swirling around her brain. All of these pieces had to go together somehow, didn't they? In a few scant weeks, she had discovered and confirmed several things from her dreams, dreams she was now sure were coming from a source outside of her own subconscious. She had learned that Harry had a Horcrux in his scar, that there was a soul-binding potion that required virgin blood to make, that whatever was inside Harry was gradually making him evil, and that she knew whatever it was that needed to be done about it.
Horcruxes. What did she know about them? They were bits of someone's soul, split when a murder was performed and stored elsewhere to be used later if the primary soul was destroyed. They constituted the very embodiment of dark magic as Hermione had come to understand it: Horcruxes meddled in the natural course of life and death.
And then there were her suspicions about them, shaped by her new knowledge. If placed in a person, the magic of the owner of the split soul infected the host, giving the host the owner's powers, perhaps explaining the fact that Harry's wand was a brother wand to Voldemort's, and that Harry spoke Parseltongue. To save Harry, and indeed to save the Wizarding world from Voldemort, the bit of Voldemort's soul would have to be destroyed without also killing Harry.
But how could such a thing be done?
"Think, Hermione, think," she insisted to herself aloud. "How can Voldemort's soul be destroyed without destroying Harry's soul?"
Harry's soul…Harry's soul needed to be bound to his body. A soul binding was needed to keep his own soul bound to his body so that Voldemort's soul could be destroyed. Animus Redimio. Soul Binding. The potion!
Before Hermione could even spare another thought on the subject, the door to her room inexplicably was thrown open, and into it stumbled Ron, holding Harry's limp body. In his hand, Harry was clutching the head of a snake.
"Ron!" she gasped. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione jumped from her bed and ran towards the bizarre party that had just entered.
"Harry," Ron panted. "Nagini…" he gasped as he collapsed onto the floor.
"Yes, yes, I can see that. Calm down," she insisted, conjuring a glass of water and thrusting it at Ron. "Is Harry alright? Are you alright?"
Ron gulped the water and wiped the sweat from his brow. "In the middle of the night, I woke up, and Harry's bed was empty. The Marauder's Map was open on his nightstand, so I looked at it and saw that Harry was down in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and he wasn't moving. I snuck down there, and I found him sitting at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets with Nagini, and she was dead. He didn't say anything, he just cackled wildly at me before passing out. I didn't know what to do, so I came here." He tried to pull the snake head from Harry's hand, but the hand was far more rigid than the rest of Harry's prone body.
"You stay right here, Ronald Weasley. Don't you dare move!" Hermione grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from the pocket of Harry's robe and sprinted for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Once there, she pounded on the door with so much might, she thought she would wake the entire castle. Moments later, a very disheveled-looking Remus Lupin and his recent bride, Tonks, came to the door with wands raised. "Hermione!" Remus choked. "What is it?"
"Wotcher, Hermione," Tonks muttered, lowering her wand. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"Remus, Tonks, sorry," Hermione gasped through labored breaths. "Have to come… Harry… Head Girl's room …now…."
"I don't think I quite understand, but I believe she's saying that we have to go to the Head Girl's room now about Harry?" Remus attempted to translate for his wife.
Tonks nodded. "Sounds about right. Come, we'll use the Floo." At Hermione's confused look, Tonks explained, "Don't get too excited. It's been opened so that professors can get into common rooms and student chambers in case there's a problem, but students can't go the other way. Perfect for situations, well, just like this one." With that, Remus and Tonks each took one of Hermione's arms and pulled her into the fireplace.
When they fell through the fireplace of the Head Girl's room, Remus and Tonks stood paralyzed at the vision of Harry and Ron on the floor with the head of a snake. "Ron," Remus began, "what happened?"
Ron repeated the story he had told Hermione, and his tale was followed by several long minutes of silence, as Remus picked Harry up from the ground and placed him gently on Hermione's bed.
"What are we going to do, Remus?" Tonks asked, breaking the silence in the room.
"I think that we need to get Minerva," he suggested. Before Ron or Hermione could protest, he amended, "I know that wouldn't be any of our first choices, but he needs to see Madam Pomfrey, and we won't be able to keep it from Minerva then. It's best that the information comes from us." He took out his wand and sent a Patronus message to Professor McGonagall.
Hermione took a deep breath and summoned her power of wandless Silent Speech. "You know what this means, Remus. There's only one active Horcrux left, and we're looking at it on my bed."
Her words in his head clearly took Remus by surprise, as, immediately following them, his head snapped towards her. She gave him a very serious, meaningful look, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement every so slightly.
As if on cue, Professor McGonagall stumbled through the fireplace in her tartan dressing gown. "What is the meaning of all of this?" she yelled. "It's four in the morning and…" She ceased her tirade as she saw Harry on the bed. "What in the world is going on here?"
This time, Remus explained what had happened, and the Headmistress turned about six shades of purple before he was done. "We just wanted to alert you before we took him to the Hospital Wing, Minerva."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go! Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, please get back to bed. We will alert you if anything happens."
Normally, Hermione and Ron would have protested, but something in McGonagall's voice told them that the effort was pointless. "Yes, Headmistress," they responded in unison as the adults bore Harry from the room.
Hermione and Ron stared at each other for several moments before Hermione spoke. "Five down, one to go."
"Not to mention actually finishing off Voldemort," Ron muttered. "Do you think that Harry will be okay?"
"Between what happened at Quidditch practice and what happened tonight, I can't say for sure. It's going to take all of us to help him, Ron. It's going to take all of the love we all have for him." Hermione patted Ron on the elbow.
"He can have my love after I get some sleep. That bump on my arse from the fall still smarts." He rubbed his bottom to prove his point. "Thanks, by the way, for saving my life earlier."
Hermione smiled. "I've got rather used to doing it, but you're welcome just the same."
"Cut your cheek, you. Goodnight, Hermione." Ron turned to go to his room.
When the door was closed, Hermione sat at her dressing table, placing her elbows on its surface and cradling her forehead in her hands.
There was now one Horcrux left to destroy, and it resided in the head of her very battered, very tortured friend. There was a way to destroy it, a potion that would keep Harry and his goodness intact while destroying the bit of Voldemort's soul.
The biggest complication of the entire harebrained scheme? The only man who knew how to brew said potion was an accused murderer and on the run somewhere, possibly helping Lord Voldemort with his plans for world domination.
'Oh well,' Hermione thought, looking at her pale reflection in the mirror. 'I've had to work with a lot less before.'