Chapter 30

R.A.B.

Those were the initials of Sirius's younger brother. From what Kreacher had willingly told Draco, the four of them had found that Sirius's brother had gotten mixed up with the Death Eaters at a young age. And once he had realised that he didn't want to be a part of Voldemort's organization, it was far too late. As Draco knew far too well, once you got in, there was no getting out; well no getting out alive anyways. Regulus had taken the real locket and given it to Kreature to destroy, however the house elf had been unable to do so. When Harry asked the house elf where the locket currently was, the elf broke down into a fit of tears and claimed that the horrid Mundungus Fletcher had taken the locket, along with several other Black family heirlooms, and sold them off.

Kreacher had been overjoyed when Harry had returned the locket that Regulus had switched with the Horcrux so many years ago. It was as if a switch had went off in the creature's mind which made him care more for his master than he ever had. So while the elf was off locating the thieving wizard, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were currently waiting at the kitchen table for news about the whereabouts of the Horcrux.

It had been about three days since the elf had left the house in search of Mundungus, and the four of them were just sitting there waiting. He wanted to go out there and find that wizard himself, or at least start a mission for one of the other possible Horcruxes, but they had absolutely nothing to go on. Mundungus Fletcher was their best lead in their search. So until Kreacher returned, the four were left with nothing to do but think up other possible Horcruxes. And trust him when he said that they weren't getting anywhere close to figuring out what they were.

It annoyed Draco slightly, that that poor excuse of a wizard had sold off his family's heirlooms. Not as much as it did Harry, but still a significant amount. Granted, he had never met any of the family in question, and everything now did belong to Harry, but he still felt as if the wizard had made off with his own personal items. Circe knew where they all were at the moment.

Ron was the first to break the silence that had been accumulating in the room. "You guys realise that the locket could literally be anywhere right now? Who knows who Mundungus sold it to, and who knows what they did with it," Ron said, voicing all of their silent worries.

"What if it's currently in the possession of a Death Eater? They're not exactly going to be willing to hand it over to any of us," Draco said glumly.

"And what if he still has it? We can't let our minds get ahead of ourselves. We won't know anything about where it is until Kreacher gets back. So why don't we all go do something productive? I'm reading books for research; the least you guys can do is try and find something to do that doesn't involve moping around," Hermione said, as she placed down one of her several hundred page long books as she gave them all a dirty look.

So Draco picked up the Daily Prophet for that day to skim what was still happening in the outside world. It was a bit weird at times to know that the world was still going on day after day despite all the things that were happening as a result of Voldemort. But people still had lives to live and they couldn't exactly stop because of a few deaths.

The title stood out to him immediately.

Severus Snape Named New Hogwarts Headmaster.

It wasn't possible. It wasn't that he didn't believe that his godfather could be Headmaster, but he knew that this had to be because of Voldemort. The position of Headmistress should be for McGonagall, but obviously Voldemort's new strings in the Ministry of Magic made it able for him to make decisions such as these. If it wasn't such a bad thing, Draco would say that it was rather ingenious move. To have control over children as they grew up and were learning to control their magic.

"Guys, you might want to see this," Draco said, as he laid the paper out for everyone to see.

"Severus Snape Named New Hogwarts Headmaster," Harry read in a disbelieving voice. "Can they even do this?"

"Oh Bloody Hell," Ron exclaimed. "I feel sorry for every poor kid who has to return this year."

Hermione, however, did not say a thing. Instead, her face paled and immediately, she shot out of her chair. "Merlin's pants," she shrieked as she rushed out of the room.

Draco frowned as he watched his girlfriend leave, "Should I even ask?" he asked the two boys who knew her best.

Ron shook his head. "Trust me mate, sometimes it's better not to ask. When Hermione has a sudden realization, she won't stop to tell anyone about it, until she's figured out everything and basically taken care of the entire problem. But don't worry, she'll tell us eventually."

"And when would that be?" Draco asked him curiously. While he and Ron still weren't the best of friends, they were definitely getting closer. It was nice, to be able to get along with the Golden Trio. None of them looked at him with looks of loathing in their eyes, and Draco knew that he was forgiven for all of the things he had said to them. With Ron, the forgiveness had been more unspoken than it had been with the other two.

Hermione rushed into the room, carrying a huge portrait. And set in on the table. However, the frame was currently empty.

"Uh Hermione, is now really the best time for redecoration?" Harry asked her as he raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, Ron, Draco, meet Phineas Nigellus Black," Hermione said. Suddenly, a man appeared in the frame. He was elderly looking, but there was a stern look on his face that he must have worn while living.

"Who called me?" the old man asked with indignation. "I was having a nice nap."

"I did," Hermione said as she met the man in the portrait's eyes.

"A mudblood in the House of Black? What are you doing in here?" The man asked with clear distaste in his voice.

"Don't call her that," Draco snapped at the man, and thus startling the other occupants. Hermione gave him a thin smile, and under the table, he squeezed her hand.

"Ah Draco Malfoy, so you do live. I had heard of your death, and while you are a Malfoy, I was still rather disappointed. You still have Black blood in your veins and your death ends the line of every Black member."

"Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks still live; they both have just as much black family blood as I do," Draco reminded the man. He had a feeling that he wouldn't like the man.

"But their blood has been tainted. Your however has not. Best keep it that way," Phineas said.

"I'll keep your warning in mind," Draco said drily but had no such plans to do so.

"I need you to do something for us, for Draco. I know you have a portrait in Dumbledore's office, and now that Severus Snape is the new headmaster, he may ask you questions about this household. But please, do not tell him about Draco and that he is still alive, or that any of us or staying here. It is a matter of life or death," Hermione said calmly.

"I don't see why answering a few questions for a Headmaster is such a big deal," Phineas said huffily.

Draco suddenly understood. If Severus found out that he was still alive, godfather or not, he would be obliged to answer back to Voldemort.

"Phineas, you're something along the lines of my great great great-grandfather. If the Black family line is to survive, then my presence, along with their presences, must be kept as a secret. It is of top most importance that you do not reveal our whereabouts. It is a matter of life or death," Draco said diplomatically.

Phineas smiled at him; however there was not any kindness behind his eyes. "I understand, young Malfoy. You can expect my mouth to stay shut. After all, we Blacks must do what it takes to survive, even if it means telling a few lies."

Draco let out a breath of air. Slytherins always did what it took to protect their own; however in the face of death it was every man for themselves. While Phineas was already dead, he looked to the next of his kin to protect, and that happened to be Draco. He knew he could trust the man not to go back on his word.

But he had to admit, it did bother him slightly. After all, was he not a Slytherin himself? Would he do the exact same thing in the face of death, or would he protect the ones he loved? The only way he figured he would ever know was if he was placed in a position where he would have to choose. Hopefully, he would never have.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she let out a breath. He could tell from her face that she had not been expecting Phineas to comply so quickly to her request.

The portrait harrumphed. "It was not for you, girl. Now, put me back where I belong, if you please!"

Hermione nodded as she carried the portrait back to its original location.

"Told you she would tell us whenever she was ready," Ron said as he munched on a chocolate frog.

Draco simply nodded. By now he should be used to the level that her brain thought on, but it still shocked him. She seemed to think of every possibility before the rest of them were even able to form basic thoughts. Sure, Draco may have been second in their year, but he hadn't even considered the fact that a portrait would be able to give away information about their mission.

"Don't worry about it mate," Harry said as he grabbed one of the frogs from the pile in front of Ron. "We used to feel bad about not thinking about some of the things she did too, but eventually you get used to it. After all, she's the brightest witch of our age."

Severus Snape slumped into the chair in Albus' old office. He pressed together his long fingers as he stared off into the space before him. He could not believe that he had to come back here, after everything that had happened.

How was he supposed to look at his co-workers or students after the events that had transpired that June? It didn't matter that he had killed Albus due to his weakness and Albus' request, because no one knew that. When the deed was done, he had consoled himself by believing that he wouldn't be coming back to the institute until long after Voldemort had fallen, and by then he could clear himself by showing the untouched memories of Albus to the world and clear all suspicion from himself.

But the Dark Lord wanted more power. He wanted to brainwash the young children of England in their impressionable years. And who better for the task of enforcing the Dark Lord's will than Severus himself?

And to top it off, the Carrows were being sent alongside him to serve as teachers for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies; two classes that were now mandatory for students. He would be forced to continue to wear the stern, cold, and uncaring look upon his face when deep down it would kill him to force children to partake in the grooming to become Death Eaters.

He thanked Merlin that Draco had successfully gotten out alive. The last thing Severus needed was to worry about his godson in the midst of all the confusion and madness that was overshadowing the world.

He was grateful that his godson would get to live a life as far away from the role as a double agent as possible. Yes, Draco had been one for a while, but thankfully now that the other side believed him to be dead, he would be able to live one life.

He closed his eyes as he brushed his thumb over a picture of Lily Evans. He was doing all of this for her; a girl he had loved but had gotten killed. She had asked him once, why it was that he did the things he did. She'd asked him why he would hang out with other people who wanted to hurt her, and he couldn't give her an answer. He wanted to feel powerful, better than his muggle father who had harmed him in more ways than one. But while trying to push himself towards isolating himself from his father, he isolated himself from her. And he could never forgive that about himself. It was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life, so he would spend the time trying to make it right; even if no one ever knew the truth.

Hermione was getting worried. How long did it take to track down a person? Of course someone as slippery as Mundungus wouldn't be the easiest to find, and she knew that. But as the hours passed by, she was losing hope of ever seeing him.

There was also the chance that Mundungus was dead. The Daily Prophet did their best in the past to list off the names of those who had died, but after the Ministry being taken over by Voldemort, the Daily Prophet stopped writing anything in terms of attacks. Of course there were all the propaganda articles about how muggleborns, or mudbloods as they phrased it, were an endangerment, or how they were a shame to society.

It bugged her to read those articles day after day, but she couldn't stop reading the paper. There were articles in that had about a shred of truth to them; however that was enough to know what was really happening in the world.

She curled into the arm of the chair in the library of 12 Grimmauld Place, as she tried to put her worries out of her mind by reading through the Tales of Beedle and the Bard. It seemed to be a collection of children's tales, and nothing more. She had no idea why Dumbledore had left it for her and how exactly it was meant to help Harry on his mission. There was nothing at all of relevance, other than a few tales that were told to children. Maybe the only purpose behind her being given the book was simply for her own enjoyment. But that just seemed so unlikely.

There was a snap downstairs, and Hermione knew right away that Kreacher had returned. She placed the book down on the table beside her as she bolted down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen, she saw Kreacher beating Mundungus with a rolling pin.

"I have caught him master, the thieving scum," Kreacher hissed as he continued to beat the man. Hermione almost felt bad for Mundungus, however the feeling soon vanished.

"Should we stop him?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Uh right. Kreacher, maybe you should hold off for a little bit, and when I need you to you can hit him again, alright?" Harry told the house elf.

Hermione didn't know whether to burst out laughing or to scold her friend for his order.

Kreacher's eyes brightened at Harry's words. "Yes Master, thank you."

"If this is about Moody, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave, but I had no other choice; you would have done the same thing," Mundungus stuttered out.

"We would have stayed and fought, you coward," Ron roared. "We don't leave our missions half way through."

"I didn't even want to go! Mad Eye forced me to be there. I-I panicked okay? You-Know-Who was going to shoot the killing curse at me and I had no idea what else to do, so I apparated. I'm sorry-"

"Fat lot of good that does anyone now; he's dead, and nothing you say can make up for that." Draco said darkly.

But they were getting off topic, and Hermione nudged Harry so they can get back on track.

"That's not why we brought you here, Mundungus. We want to know about something you took from here a few years ago. A locket; it would have been placed in that cabinet there," Harry said, as he pointed to the china cabinet.

Mundungus looked idly by as he raised his eyebrows. "You want to bust me for taking some useless heirloom…? Shouldn't you be off killing You-Know-Who or something? Instead, you simply want to track down items that belonged to your dead godfather."

"You sold it, didn't you?" Ron demanded.

"I took and sold a lot of things, you'll have to be more specific," Mundungus said lazily, as he kicked his feet up on the table.

"Kreacher?" Harry said to the house elf. "You may continue to keep hitting him until he reveals something of relevance to us.

The house elf happily obliged as he used the rolling pin to smack the looter.

"Ow, ouch, okay please stop, I remember, I remember."

Harry nodded to the elf and Kreacher stopped hitting Mundungus.

"I took it to Knockturn Alley and was about to sell it, until this awful toad-like woman took it from me. She claimed it to be a violation of some law that she sounded like she made up on the spot. I do remember her wearing a hideous pink outfit with a matching cap. I could have gotten several galleons for the locket and she cheated me out of it."

Hermione had a sinking feeling in her chest as she realised who it was that Mundungus was talking about.

Harry met her eyes. "Umbridge," he said grimly