RunAway

Moon: Hi everyone I'm back. I know I seem to be updating fast but like I (might?) have said before I have this completed up to chapter 10 but am updating slowly because of internet issues our mondem seems to have. Anyway, I want to once again plead for reviews! I can't change my work for the better if I don't get reviews! I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9: The Great Horcrux Hunt Begins

Claire and her group of friends were wired and ready when they went back to school. The news of Voldemort's survival was enough to keep them up at night, but now they were the only ones who knew how to deal with the things that were keeping him alive. For the given portion of 'alive', considering he didn't have a body back yet, meaning that they were on a clock-destroy all of his horcruxes before he returns officially.

The problem was knowing where to look. Sirius, Remus and Tonks were looking around outside the school, but they weren't sure where to look. The kids offered to help them out in any way that they could.

It took weeks to find anything at all. Keeping relative secrecy on what they were looking for made it harder to find anything, and there was already scant information about Voldemort from before he became the Dark Lord everyone in Britain feared.

Hermione had handed out the copies of the history books she had been studying before she came to Hogwarts. They poured over them at lunch time, earning weird looks from the students sitting around them and definite glares from some of the Slytherin students.

Draco, after some consideration and a week of no progress, decided to trace You-Know-Who's ancestry. It had taken hours into the night until Sirius finally pried the boy away from the desk and all but forced a sleep potion on him. It had taken a frustratingly long time to dig up anything of value, but eventually Sirius connected Voldemort to a former student from Hogwarts, Tom Riddle.

Remus then took from there. Their search eventually lead them to the old Riddle house where they found something about his parents from the old family tree, which had been crumpled up and hid in a drawer.

His mother had been born Merope Gaunt. They were an old family that claimed to be able to trace their ancestry back to Salazar Slytherin, though many had refused to believe this in later years. It remained unconfirmed since this was not the Gaunt family mansion and such they couldn't see further up the family tree. The Gaunts had originally been quite powerful, but their line had diminished in thanks to inbreeding within the family and poor choices of husbands.

Merope Gaunt herself had been magically weak for a witch. Sirius had asked around the town where she had lived, and honestly when he came back with the stories they'd been telling about her Claire honestly pitied Riddle's mother. Her life had been so bad it wouldn't have surprised her had she declared war on the entire world had she not died giving birth.

Of course, her son was happy to take that position up in her place.

His father, however, was a different story. His father was Tom Riddle Senior, and he was a muggle. There was nothing magical about him.

This boggled Claire, since Voldemort's main philosophy was that purebloods were superior to half bloods and muggleborns. And yet he himself was a half-blood!

So aside from being a genocidal maniac, they could add 'delusional', and 'hypocrite' to the long list of issues Voldemort had.

"That is so going on the front page of the Prophet." Tonks had said when Remus and Draco had told her about this. "If his followers are disillusioned fewer will feel inclined to show up to his resurrection party."

"The Gaunts were a pureblood family," Blaise said thoughtfully, "They'll have a family ring. You said it was missing from the jewelry box? It's connected to his childhood. Maybe that's a horcrux. No one would have thought of that; they didn't know he was connected to them."

"That's...that's a good point." Tonks murmured, sounding distracted. "You should look for strange objects inside of Hogwarts while we're thinking of that."

Claire nodded. "Let's go. My Transfiguration homework won't do itself." the students collectively groaned; McGonagall made it clear she expected nothing but the best of her students, especially bright ones like them, so they got hard homework.

Later, as September melted into October and Halloween drew closer, they kept searching. They had agreed to split up and search different paths and areas when they got back.

Ginny and Claire would go looking for the Sword of Gryffindor. Draco, Luna, Neville and Hannah were going to find out more about Voldemort. Cho, Padma, Hermione and Susan were going to help Claire and Ginny search the school for potential Horcruxes or information.

Ginny waited until it was night before activating the map. Sure enough, the other girls were waiting outside the Great Hall, having deliberately earned themselves late night detention with Snape. Filch was further up the hall with Mrs. Norris.

Ginny carefully slid out of bed and opened the window. She stepped onto the windowstill and threw herself out of it, transforming into her Pegasus form halfway down.

Flapping her massive wings, she swung around to a window in the great hall, transformed back and hissed, "Alohamora," causing it to spring open. She jumped inside, onto the Gryffindor table.

The other girls turned around when she ran over to them. "Great, where's everyone?" Susan asked in a hushed voice. Ginny showed them the map. "Great, let's get into the Headmaster's office."

Slowly, carefully to avoid any of the ghosts that might be patrolling the halls, the girls rushed down the hallways and up to the stone gargoyle. Peeves would be unbearable if he found them out of the dorms now, and a distraction was the last thing they needed right now.

"Cockroach cluster," Claire said. The gargoyle slowly turned back, revealing the stairways. The girls sighed in relief. Getting the password to the Headmaster's office had been a nightmare; they'd had to eavesdrop on Professor McGonagall. That had been much, much scarier than dealing with the Bloody Baron. Ginny felt a little guilty for doing so, but was mollified when they opened the door.

The girls let out discreet, quiet cheers and high-fived before carefully walking up the stairs.

They walked into a large room, filled with books and a desk where the Headmaster usually sat. The picture frames that filled the room were strangely empty; Claire wondered where they might be but decided to count their blessings while they were ahead.

Cho played a few notes on her flute, assuring them that Fawkes was asleep. Then the girls went into different parts of the office, scouring for the sword.

Claire's fingers brushed against a wall, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when the wall slid open. The other girls scurried back to see a font with white strands floating inside it appear from where it had been hidden behind a wall.

"...is that a Pensieve?" Cho whispered.

"Looks like it." Susan said, putting a finger on the stone. "It must be the Headmaster's. Why would he keep a Pensieve, though?"

"He is getting older," Ginny remarked. "Maybe there are really important things he doesn't want to forget about, so he's keeping them here."

Claire looked down at the Pensieve. "...Maybe there's something about Voldemort here." She said. "Something he might not have mentioned. Something he might have overlooked."

Hermione looked nervous. "Guys...I don't think we should touch that, what if there's some way he can tell if other people had looked at it."

"Hermione, we still don't know how many Horcruxes he made or where they are. Maybe the Professor knows something." Padma said. "What he doesn't know couldn't hurt him."

"We still haven't found the sword, though," Hermione pointed out. "Shouldn't we get that first?"

"We can keep looking," Padma suggested, "while Claire looks at this."

"Good point. Anything helps, and we're running short of time." Cho said. Hermione still looked nervous, but she nodded, shelving her usual strict adherence to authority to look for the sword again. Cho went up the stairs and Padma disappeared into a back room.

Claire and Ginny looked at each other before diving into the Pensieve.

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It was pouring rain, which Albus Dumbledore decided must be appropriate. The battle against Voldemort wasn't going very well; the Order of the Phoenix was loosing members faster than the Death Eaters, despite the stunning victories they were winning they were slowly being forced back.

Dumbledore knew that the survival of the wizarding world depended on Voldemort's defeat. The madman didn't care who he hurt or what he destroyed on his quest for power. Albus shuddered to think of what Britain might look like under that man's control. The results would be catastrophic, and he knew the man would never be satisfied with just Britain. He'd continue into the rest of the world the moment he was stronger.

He was beginning to run out of options. He was the only person who had ever been feared by Voldemort. James and Lily had managed to stand their ground against him three times so far, but he doubted that Voldemort would accept that kind of defiance for much longer. Lily's muggle parents had already been moved out of the country to keep Death Eaters from murdering them in retaliation. Lily had begged Petunia to do the same, but her sister replied that she wasn't doing anything for 'freaks' and besides, her husband's job was here.

There had been three aurors who died in the last skirmish.

Dumbledore sighed. With all these things going on, it seemed almost absurd that he was going out to the Leaky Cauldron to find a new Divination teacher. At least, he was going to meet one of his contacts first.

He sat down at the bar, ordered a drink, and asked the man next to him, "What's the time?"

"Seven oclock. You're here early, Albus." The man said, arching an eyebrow. He was very dark, with brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a black trench coat and combat boots. He was stocky and well built.

"Max. I'm glad you could make it." Max wasn't the man's real name; even Albus didn't know the mercenaries real name. He despised the fact that he was getting help from someone who sold his services as a killer to whoever paid him best. But this man was one of the best in the business, other wizards had been singing his praises for the missions he did, and as he had realized many days ago he was running out of options.

"Do you know anything new?" Albus asked simply.

Max was silent for a long moment, making Albus wonder if he hadn't heard him – the pub was noisy tonight. He was about to repeat his question when Max said, "I do, and you're not going to like it."

He placed an oddly-shaped stone on the table and pushed it over to Albus. Albus looked down, and the symbol on it. The world around him suddenly seemed unstable, as though it was going to fall into the void any second. The universe tilted on its axis as he processed this new horror.

"It still exists?" He asked eventually, his voice weak.

"Apparently." Max shrugged. "Far as I can tell, it hasn't been reformed yet, since we'd all be feeling it if it was. Anyway, it's my understanding that he intends to join them. Become their leader, actually."

Albus's fingers tightened on his mug. "This shouldn't' be possible. If he did – if the Dark Order come back – that would be catastrophic."

"Would be. You better do something about it, then." Max finished his drink and stood up. "I'm on a clock. Good luck, Albus. I rather like vacationing here – Death Eaters would ruin the atmosphere." With that, he left.

There was a blur and the memory changed, and suddenly Claire was face to face with a woman named Professor Trawley.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . ."

"The child in the prophecy is Claire...yes...I've checked it. I'm certain...James and Lily have defied him three times...Claire is the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord...she needs to be ready...that power he knows not must be Lily's love, which saved her from Avada Kedavera...then she must be ready when he returns...and I know he will."

"She'll be famous. Everyone will love her."

"Yes...which is why she must grow up away from all that...she must understand what it means to be the little person...to be able to bear pain given unjustly...to be able to hold other people up, put them first. That's why she must live with Petunia Dursley...we must arrange that..."

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Claire sat down heavily. Ginny knelt next to her and touched her face, "Claire," she said anxiously, "It's okay. It'll be okay. I promise. We'll do something."

The other girls hurried over, alarmed, "What's wrong?" Hermione asked. Claire realized dimly that she was holding the sword of Gryffindor, but her mind was fixed on the prophecy.

Claire shook her head and Ginny said, "Not here, the Headmaster could be back at any moment. Come on – let's go to the Room of Requirement."

The other girls nodded tensely and hurried out of the office.

Outside, Hermione quickly checked the map. "Flitch is coming!" She hissed. Cringing, the girls darted down the hallway.

"Did Sirius tell you exactly where the Room of Requirement is?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

"Yes – here!" Claire hissed. They skidded to a halt in front of the wall, which turned into an ornate door before opening up. Inside was a living room with four couches. The girls ducked inside, the door closing behind them.

Cho, Padma and Hermione promptly collapsed on the couches.

Ginny stood for another moment, staring seriously into Claire's eyes. After a second, she reached up and put a hand on Claire's cheek.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence. Ginny and Claire sat down, and quietly Claire told them what she had just seen in the Pensieve.

After she had finished, the other girls looked quite pale. "What's the Dark Order? Why would V-You-Know-Who want to be the leader of it?" Padma asked timidly.

"I don't know." Claire said heavily. "But that prophecy...is that why he left me with my aunt and uncle?"

Cho let out a surprising, unladylike snort. "That prophecy? Oh, please. If that's the standard for Seers in this country, I pity Britain. It's so easy to poke holes in, I could be here all night."

"What?" Hermione said, eyes wide, "But it makes perfect sense, doesn't it?"

"How?" Cho asked.

"W-Well, it said 'born as the seventh month dies', and Claire was born in July." Hermione said.

Cho sighed patiently, "Hermione, do you know how many babies are born every day? Thousands. At least hundreds, in Britain itself. And it didn't explicitly state which family or which married couple the 'destroyer' would be born to. That doesn't exactly narrow it down, does it?"

"But it says, 'born to ones who have thrice defied him, he will mark as his equal'. According to Notable Events of the Last Century, Claire's parents Lily and James Potter personally fought You-Know-Who on three occasions, each time barely escaping with their lives."

Cho shook her head, "You don't have to face someone in battle to defy them, Hermi – do you mind if I call you that? James Potter was a pureblood who married a muggleborn. Every day they were married was a day they defied Voldemort and his beliefs about airostocracy. He joined the Order of the Phoenix, which was dedicated to defying You-Know-Who. In fact, Lily was born to muggle parents. Every day she lived, every time she cast a spell, she defied Voldemort and his belief that muggleborns amount to nothing. You know what that means? Lily isn't the only muggleborn in the world. Any time a muggleborn or half blood takes a position of authority, casts a spell, preforms a powerful feat, or overwhelmes/outclasses a pureblood in any way, they are defying You-Know-Who. That leaves literally tens of dozens of candidates for this 'prophecy', just within Britain itself."

"Also, the Dark Lord? Who's that? You-Know-Who isn't the only person in history to have gone by the title 'Dark Lord'. There's some pureblood lunatic running around in China right now who's being called a 'Dark Lord' by his followers, been around for ten years. Was it him? There was an American Dark Lord hanging around when this prophecy was made, was it about him? How about the Japanese Yakuza leader who also called himself a 'Dark Lord'? And those were just three infamous examples. There are probably a dozen other powerful dark wizards who are calling themselves 'Dark Lords' recently around, and the 'Dark Lord' in the prophecy could refer to any of them, since it never mentions his real name."

Claire was left blinking and dazed, it had seemed so certain a moment ago - "but what about this?" She raised her bangs, revealing her scar. "Doesn't this mean he marked me as his equal?"

Cho shook her head. "No, I don't think so. For you to be his equal, you would have to have the same power level as him, and the same knowledge. The same cunning and the same backup. When he approached you that night, it was to make you less than him, not his equal. The phrasing of the prophecy is 'he will mark as his equal' not 'he will accidentally mark as equal when trying to destroy them'"

"Also – neither can live while the other survives? He seems to have survived just fine, and Claire hasn't exactly keeled over and died, has she?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call what You-Know-Who is right now 'living'." Ginny pointed out.

"Yes, but the phrasing is neither can live while the other survives. Voldemort is surviving, if not living, but Claire is living just fine. She got her godfather and uncle back, she has close friends, she has a future and a pretty singing voice to make a living with."

"Claire does have a scar." Susan said. "If that's not a mark, what is it?"

"But even if that was all correct," Cho said calmly, "the description is still vague as hell. It could just as easilymean that Voldemort showed up at Claire's house, attacked her, left her with a scar, and was vanquished. Boom, prophecy fulfilled. Also, it says 'vanquish' and 'destroy' instead of 'kill' or 'end', which are much more definitive. It could, something I personally think is more likely,mean that Claire destroyed his chances of domination, and his body. Which she did. Back when she was one year old. And then they were equal – You-Know-Who powerless and destroyed, his followers imprisoned and scattered. Claire was left with no one in the world other than people who don't want her, her parents dead, her godfather falsely imprisoned and her honorary uncle was not allowed to care for her. Get where I'm going with this? Claire already destroyed him. Again, vague-as-hell Prophecy fulfilled."

"Also, going back to how unspecific this so called prophecy is, there's another person we know that meets this vague criteria. Neville."

"Huh?" Hermione blinked. "Our Neville?"

"Of course. His parents were both purebloods but they joined the Order of the Phoenix. Everything they did for the Order was in defiance of You-Know-Who, which again is way more than three times. Neville was born in July and was the same age as Claire when she was attacked. And while You-Know-Who didn't strike him directly, the people who followed him did, in direct following of You-Know-Who's plans, philosophy and orders. He lost his parents to a fate crueler than death, which I think is a mark of it's own. And again – You-Know-Who powerless and alone, Neville alone, miserable and left with people who mistreat him. I'd say that's pretty equal." Cho remarked. "So instead of a child, as the 'prophecy' said, we have at least two children who meet that exact criteria that we know of, because it isn't more specific. Which begs the question, who is it referring to?"

"It could be either of them. It could even include any muggleborn couple who had a child in July who defied him, and suffered for it." Susan said dazedly.

"Exactly." Cho said firmly, looking pleased with herself. "Most good quality prophecies don't have six different meanings or ways they could end. It would be much more exact, it would refer to the 'destroyer' as 'son of the House of Black' or 'Claire Jamesmaden'. It would also refer to You-Know-Who by the name he was born to, not as a 'Dark Lord'. If would specifically state what kind of defiance that occurred three times. Which makes me think that whoever gave Dumbledore this prophecy was a very weak Seer and misinterpreted a huge chunk of it, or didn't report it accurately. In any case, what we've heard has already been fulfilled. An accurate Seer would predict an event with perfect clarity."

"Wow." Claire's mind was spinning from everything she'd just learned.

"That's impressive," Ginny said blankly. "How could you tell all that stuff?"

Cho blushed lightly. "My cousin is a Seer. Specifically, he's a Dream-Weaver, kind of like Luna. It's very rare for the power to manifest when you're really young, so he had to sit through all kinds of lessons and history. He wouldn't sit still unless I was with him, because he found them so boring."

There was a short pause. Then Hermione awkwardly lifted the Sword of Gryffindor. "I, uh...I got it." She said lamely. Ginny giggled.

"At least we got what we came for." Padma said in relief. There was another awkward pause before all the girls started laughing.

"Oh wow, that was terrible." Hermione said between fits of laughter, "We broke into the Headmaster's office! And stole something! If someone had suggested this to me a few days ago, I would have had a heart attack!"

"I'm pretty sure my dad would kill me if he found out I did this." Padma agreed through snickers.

"Wouldn't a potential takeover of magical Britain be enough reason to temporarily suspend breaking-and-entering rules if it was really, really important?" Claire asked, giggling.

"Somehow I don't think even impending doom would convince Professor Snape that I couldn't hand in my homework on time," Ginny laughed.

Claire sobered slightly at the mention of Professor Snape. She was kind of scared of him, but at the same time she couldn't help but wonder what was up with him. She couldn't escape the feeling that the Potion's professor was in pain because of something, something that involved her mother, who Claire was a living shadow of. It was the only explanation that made sense in her head as to why the Professor had such a strange attitude towards her, and how he got it so quickly.

Another mystery for another time, she decided. Her current problem required her complete focus.

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Lucius Malfoy glared at his wife, who was standing firmly in the doorway. "Narcissa, move. You know we're running out of time."

"No!" His wife shouted, eyes flashing. "It's too dangerous! You could kill him!"

Lucius gave a snarl of anger and stunned the stubborn woman. She collapsed in a heap. For the thousandth time Lucius wondered why he hadn't married a meeker woman. Oh, right – he had an opportunity to gain power like none he'd had before by marrying into the Black family.

Only his son betrayed him and everything their family stood for, for the sake of an outsider, and stole the Black fortune from him. He'd been so certain he was raising Draco correctly – intelligent, obedient, and prepared to serve the dark lord. And yet saving those Zabinis wasn't the end of the boy's mockery of him – he had gone and demanded Sirius Black get a trail, something that got the man cleared!

Lucius gripped his staff in rage at the thought. If the opportunity presented itself, he would kill the brat personally for his insolence. However, he had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. The mainest one being what Narcissa had disagreed to.

Lucius opened the door Narcissa had been guarding and walked inside.

Alexander Orion Malfoy had been conceived shortly after Draco's betrayal and subsequent rejection of his family; they could not continue without an heir after all. The boy was only three years old, but Lucius could feel Amelia Bones closing in on him over the murder of Theodore Nott and his worthless parents. He had to return to the Dark Lord, but he had very little to show for the years he had spent while his master was a wraith. He needed results now. And what better way to regain his lost favour than offer the master a new servant, spy and, if he were truly honoured, body?

Lucius uncapped the Accelerate Age potion he had finally managed to convince a Ministy worker to brew. He would have rather had Severus make it but he knew the bat would refuse if he knew what it was for. He needed Alexander to be ready now. The side effects could be dangerous, but that was negligible.

Alexander blinked as Lucius walked up to him and held up his head. Lucius then poured the potion down his son's throat.

A moment later, there was a flash of crimson light and an agonized scream.

End Chapter

Lucius just gets worse and worse, doesn't he? I hate the fact that he dodged Azkaban again after Deathly Hallows. He deserves to be thrown in there.

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