AN:/ So…I'm a little late huh? Yeah…I'm not going to bore you with excuses, but essentially I got busy. Sorry to take so long to update, I'm sure all or most of you realize life gets crazy. Regardless, while not as long as some other chapters have been this is the best I can get up for now. Mostly because lately I've found myself getting a bit of writer's block—rather frustrating that. But hey! 10 chapters is a bit of an accomplishment, no? Anyway, hopefully you enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Evidently I do not own Harry Potter, the characters, locations, spells, etc. and never will. Those belong to the lovely JK Rowling and her beautiful mind.

(With Hooch and Luna)

For a moment Rolanda was thrown by Luna's immediate recognition of her, but then the blonde had always had a knack for being strangely perceptive. The 'hawk' leapt off Luna's shoulder, surging forward before suddenly transforming. Grey-black wings billowed out in to the flicker of a billowing black cloak and talons elongated into fingers as similarly grey head feathers shed rapidly revealing short, spiky silver hair. Gold eyes that remained morphed shape to appear larger and less avian and a yellow beak contorted into a human nose and mouth. No longer was Luna standing with a grey hawk, but with her professor.

The newly appeared woman raised a brow at the usually dazed blonde, "Do I want to know how you knew that?" she asked. Luna just gave her a serene smile.

Shaking her head slightly, Rolanda got her first real look at the young Ravenclaw in months. Usually blonde hair was greasy, matted and caked in a combination of dirt, grime and what Rolanda grimly suspected to be dried blood. The blonde's skin was also quite grime covered, however it was painfully obvious that there were scars and bruises under the dirt. The already slim girl also now appeared to be dangerously underweight, as her sallow skin seemed to hang off her frame. The dark circles under her glassy grey eyes also indicated a lack of sleep, all of which Rolanda had anticipated.

Overall the blonde appeared, at least with all the dirt and grime in place, to be almost better off than Rolanda had anticipated; however, the elder witch knew that was most likely not the case. There were few visible physical symptoms to many different curses that were common amongst the Death Eaters. Torture curses. Many were excruciatingly painful, but they didn't always leave visible traces. The Cruciatus Curse was an example, while there were trembles and such that came in the interim after the curse, lasting latent effects took longer to be visible, more still when the individual was either resilient or young.

Rolanda had the suspicion that Luna was both. The blonde had never once bent under the bullying she underwent at Hogwarts. Bullying that Hooch, along with several other professors, had tried to get stopped. Their efforts had been constantly stopped by outrageous, bureaucratic, pureblood laws that Rolanda had passionately loathed since her first year at Hogwarts. Being constantly tormented by her 'superiors' because she was only a 'filthy Mudblood' had done nothing to endear her to pureblood society.

Luna spoke then, "Did the heffelumps guide you professor?" she asked dazedly. Rolanda internally sighed, any other student and that question would have been seriously alarming, but with Luna, well Rolanda had heard stranger from the girl.

"I'm afraid not, lass. T'was more of a phoenix type effort." Rolanda said trying not to consider too much what a heffelump might be. Luna smiled serenely at her then and spoke softly.

"I see…will we be going to visit the phoenix now then?" there was something in the way Luna spoke that crossed Rolanda as almost disappointed at the prospect, but she decided against wondering why.

"No, I'm afraid you'll be travelling with me for a while now, lass." Rolanda said, and it was true, she was no longer affiliated closely with the Order—contact was increasingly difficult if you weren't staying in one place and on the run from Death Eaters at all times. The silver haired woman noticed that Luna seemed almost relieved to know they wouldn't be joining up with the Order again in the interim. Peculiar, but there would be time for finding out more later.

"We need to keep moving I'm afraid, there's only so much time we can be in one place before they might find us." Rolanda said gently, hoping not to alarm the barely escaped girl. There would be Death Eaters coming fast when they realized one of their prisoners was gone.

Luna nodded, "Yes professor. Where will we go now?" Rolanda sighed with vague relief. She had been minimally worried that Luna may be against the idea, but she also had her doubts the girl would be.

Rolanda replied, "We'll go to my home in lower Scotland, and from there I'll be transferring you to a safe house out of the UK." The elder witch's voice was heavy, she hated having to do this, to take such a bright girl out of the country, but she also knew there would be no safe way to keep her in the country.

Luna's eyes impossibly widened, she had not foreseen this, "Where will I go?" Rolanda shook her head and silently handed Luna a piece of parchment. It read: Rolanda Hooch lives at 478 Berkanan Drive, Perth, Scotland. And then before Luna could speak, Rolanda grabbed her hand and the two of them disapparated with a small crack.

Wide emerald eyes stared at the beautiful woman suddenly in his arms. Harry gaped slightly, completely stunned at the sudden appearance of the very woman that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for months.

"Fleur?!" Harry exclaimed as he caught her.

She looked up at him; her blue eyes bleary as she breathily gasped, "'Arry!" and then she went limp. Harry was terrified for a horrible second that she had died but he found her pulse faster than he'd ever found a pulse before and felt the small, slow rise and fall of her chest with her breathing.

Not knowing what else to do—or how the hell Fleur had suddenly appeared inside his wards—Harry brought her to the tent and immediately called Dobby. The excitable house elf immediately popped in. "Master Harry, sir! What's be—" the elf but himself off seeing the blonde Harry had in the tent.

"Master Harry Potter's Fleursy be here?" Dobby questioned causing Harry to turn red. Harry shook his head.

"Fleur isn't mine, or anyone's for that matter, Dobby. You can't own a person the same way I don't own you or Kreacher. You are both employed by me but you're also my friends." Harry said simply, causing Dobby to tear up once more.

Dobby was about to start thanking Harry profusely but, sensing it coming, Harry quickly cut in to avoid becoming embarrassed, "Dobby I need you to check the wards and make sure they haven't been damaged or weakened somehow, please? I-I need to make sure nothing's wrong with Fleur but I…" Harry trailed off, at a loss.

Saluting Harry, Dobby spoke, "Dobby will be checkings the wards Master Harry sir!" and with a vague pop Dobby was off to do just that, leaving Harry alone again with Fleur.

Looking at the blonde in question Harry winced at how exhausted she looked. It had been a long time since he'd seen her anywhere close to this tired. Not since the Triwizard Tournament three years earlier.

It had taken quite a bit to exhaust Fleur…the Second Task had taken a lot out of her, the paralyzing fear of Gabrielle remaining on the bottom of the lake when she couldn't continue had drained every last ounce of Fleur's remaining energy. She had fought relentlessly trying to reach her beloved sister…and the pain of her failure in that had shamed her for a long time after. Harry recalled though that, despite her short-coming, it actually drove Fleur to try harder—more training, more studying, more practice; trying to perfect her skills and strengthen herself so she would never fail again.

Harry remembered what she'd said when he'd found her training into the wee early hours of the morning. "I can't ztop 'Arry. I won't. Not when zhere are ztill ozzer monzterz out zhere zat could 'urt 'er." The fire in her bright blue eyes that night had haunted Harry's dreams ever since. There was a passion that he had only ever seen hints of from others; an alluring fire that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Looking at her exhausted form on his make-shift cot bed now…Harry wondered what on Earth could have brought this woman, this warrior, to such a state of fatigue. It had taken dragons, and thinking she almost lost her sister after fighting off a hoard of grindylows to even begin to exhaust Fleur.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts temporarily Harry grabbed his wand, he had convinced to teach him a basic diagnosis spell during his 6th year—she had refused to teach him to heal things because she knew he would use it to try to avoid the Hospital Wing even if he messed up the healing. Diagnosis was easy enough though.

Muttering the spell Harry waved his wand over Fleur and waited as a sky blue image formed over the girl listing her injuries. Finally the light shifted into a piece of parchment, scripting out her injuries. Glancing in over, Harry found that it was not serious injury, but rather some kind of magical exhaustion primarily effecting Fleur…

'But what could have used enough magic to exhaust Fleur?' Harry wondered, bemused. He knew Fleur had extensive reserves of magic, so her suffering magical exhaustion seemed odd to him. 'It could be getting here I suppose…' he mused, knowing Dobby would be back soon with whatever the results were from testing the wards. If Fleur did break the wards then it would be easy to explain why she was magically exhausted…but somehow Harry felt like she didn't. He could sense traces of the wards still, he wasn't the best sensor of magic, so he couldn't be positive, but he got the feeling she didn't.

"So how did you get to me…?" he mused allowed, gently brushing a strand of Fleur's blonde hair aside. It was slightly matted and damp he noted. 'Sweat?' he thought, curiously. It wasn't discoloured at all, so it wasn't blood. 'Thank Merlin; but then what is it?'

A sudden pop beside him caused Harry to jump as Dobby reappeared. "Master Harry sir! Dobby's be checking the wards, sir, and Miss Fleursy not be breaking the wards. The wards be being perfect, sir!" the excitable elf chirped.

Harry's mouth thinned slightly in a gesture almost reminiscent of McGonagall as he mulled over the new information he had already thought could very well be true. "How did you do it Fleur?" he murmured.

Dobby chimed in then, "Miss Fleursy be using Veela magiks, sir!" Harry's head snapped around to face Dobby.

"You know how she got here?" Harry asked, startled. Dobby's eyes widened impossibly before he nodded.

"Of course, sir. Miss Fleursy is being Veela, and used old Veela magiks to be getting to Master Harry, sir!" Dobby said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Harry stared stunned at Dobby for a moment before looking back at Fleur.

"How do you know so much about Veela magik, Dobby?" Harry asked, slightly preoccupied as he tried to figure out what Fleur's sudden appearance meant.

Dobby, looking slightly sheepish explained, "All elfs be knowing about Veelas Master Harry sir. We's be knowings about all the magiks of all peoples with magiks, sir." There was a note of apprehension in Dobby's voice that made Harry realize Dobby thought he was angry with him.

"I'm not angry Dobby, I promise. I'm just worried about Fleur; I don't mean to come across as harsh." Harry said, turning and kneeling to be at eye-level with Dobby. The little elf squeaked slightly, clearly not expecting Harry to realize what he was feeling or thought.

The little elf nodded before speaking quieter than usual, "If master Harry be wantings, Dobby can be tellings Master Harry of the Veela magiks." He didn't phrase it as a question so much as a statement, but it still gave Harry pause.

Did he want to learn about Veela magik? Absolutely. Did he trust Dobby when he said he knew about Veela magik? Of course. The real question was, did he want to learn about Veela magik from someone who wasn't Fleur? He wasn't sure; somehow it almost felt…wrong to learn about her magik, her culture without her. He knew Dobby most likely was very well versed in different magiks if he said he was. However, Harry also knew that Fleur would know it better than anyone, and that there was the risk that she might not want him to know some of the things.

Finally Harry replied, "Thank-you Dobby, I'll keep that in mind…for now, um, do you know, er, could you find out if there's anything wrong with Fleur other than exhaustion?" Dobby immediately nodded before snapping his fingers and another list appeared above Fleur, this one more detailed than Harry's own.

Every bruise, and muscle strain was listed and Harry couldn't help the apprehension and anger that rose in him at whoever had hurt Fleur. Bruising was not the result of magical exhaustion, so someone had hurt her. Whoever they were, Harry was going to make sure they paid for it and never did it again.

"Thank-you, Dobby." Harry said before taking the floating list and reading it closer. Dobby nodded, smiling at Harry before disappearing with a faint pop.

Alone again with Fleur Harry gently shifted her sleeve in accordance with Dobby's list and saw that there was indeed a bruise there. A rather hand shaped bruise. Rage flooded Harry's veins, with one question ringing through his mind, 'Who did this?'

Fleur was no pushover; she was one of the strongest witches he knew, which meant someone with serious power had to have done this, or Fleur had to have been first subdued somehow—Harry didn't like either of those scenarios.

Frowning he fumbled around for a damp cloth before sitting down on a stump he'd taken to using as a chair beside her cot, gently pressing the cloth to the bruise on her arm in the vague hopes of reducing swelling.

Harry's frown deepened when Fleur remained unconscious…he hated this. There were so many unknowns now…and all the answers lay with the woman in front of him. The woman he loved…who was now oblivious to the world around her.

He knew it would be a while until she awoke too, based on Dobby's scan, it could be days if not a week. That also meant he couldn't leave where he was now during that time. He didn't know how the hell Fleur had found him, but there was no way he could return her to the Order or even Hogwarts. It was simply out of the question. Fleur would have to stay with him, at least until she was healthy.

Harry vaguely wondered if he shouldn't try and contact Bill, but decided against it. For all he knew Fleur and the eldest Weasley had been attacked. Although Harry noticed there was no wedding band on her finger which surprised him. Fleur and Bill's wedding had been months ago.

Before he could ponder it further though a rather loud crack occurred in the tent followed by a slew of half-formed curses: Kreacher. The elf scowled at Harry all but throwing a gold cup at him. There was a sticky red substance on it—blood. Harry's eyes flew wide as he immediately recognized the emblem emblazoned on the cup—Hufflepuff; which could mean only one thing.

A Horcrux.

Eyes widening Harry looked at the cup before looking at Kreacher, shocked that the plan had actually worked that well. "Kreacher I—" he began before the elf cut him off.

"Stupid half-blood traitor forcing Kreacher to disobey Kreacher's mistress…oh the shame if mistress knew! But alas, dirty half-blood be forbidding Kreacher to tell, yes filthy half- blood be putting Kreacher away." The old elf sneered; Harry winced. He did hate doing this to Kreacher but he had to defeat Voldemort.

The blood on the cup disturbed Harry the most. Who's blood was this? Voldemort's? No…it was too fresh. "Kreacher?" Harry asked, bringing the old elf out of his enraged ramblings.

Once he had Kreacher's attention Harry continued, "Whose blood is this?" he asked gesturing to the cup. Kreacher remained silent.

Sighing, Harry spoke again "Kreacher, I need you to tell me whose blood this is. I don't want to order you to, but if I have to I will." Kreacher scowled at Harry for a long moment.

"Kreacher knows not where the blood be coming from. Maybe filthy half-blood be spilling dirty blood on the cup." The elf sneered. Harry internally sighed but conceded that Kreacher most likely really didn't know whose blood it was.

The cup was getting painful to hold—and now Harry knew why. Anything possessing a piece of Voldemort's soul was bad news for him; not that that surprised him. Anything to do with Voldemort tended to be bad for him.

He looked at the shiny gold surface in his hand, the carefully sculpted outline of the badger on its surface. Sighing Harry knew what to do; looking at Fleur's form one last time to ensure she was still resting, he rummaged a little before pulling out Gryffindor's sword.

Stepping quietly outside the tent, but remaining well within the wards, Harry sat the cup on a stump. Taking a deep breath he steadied himself, gripping the hilt of the gleaming silver sword with both hands. Raising the blade above his head for a downward strike, Harry took a deep breath before hissing in Parseltoungue, "Reveal yourself."

Unlike the locket the image that arouse from the cup was not that of his failing love life, but rather an image that Harry was not unfamiliar with. It was him, but not at his current age. He was younger, much younger. Harry saw himself as an infant, a beautiful red-haired woman holding him, and suddenly a man entered. A younger Tom Riddle—Voldemort. The woman screamed; a different flash than usual followed though.

Instead of the green Harry was accustomed to from his memory, there was a flash of red hit Lily Potter and she began to writhe in pain. The infant in her arms wailed as it was dropped, but the current Harry was too stunned to react for half a second before with a war-like cry he brought the sword down hard on the cup.

Harry was once more flung backwards by the force of the destruction. The image was gone. The last cries of Lily Potter rang in Harry's ears as he propped himself up on his elbows to see the cup sitting still with vague wisps of smoke rising from it; the last residue of a dying soul.

Slowly, shakily, Harry rose and made his way over to the cup, gently touching it he pulled his hand back startled. The cup was warm, and the inside was full of blood. Harry's eyes widened, 'The blood on the side of the cup…it couldn't have been HIS could it?!' Harry shivered. Did that mean someone else had already damaged the Horcrux? Or did Voldemort have to put his own blood in to make the Horcrux to begin with?

It was enough to make Harry slightly queasy, so he decided to leave the thoughts for later. Gingerly picking up the cup Harry went back into the tent and found a small sealable bag before stepping back outside. Carefully he poured the crimson liquid into the bag before flicking his want to magically seal the bag. Not wanting to risk dumping blood from a Horcrux on the ground he brought the bag and cup back in the tent.

He looked over at the still unconscious blonde on the cot. Fleur's chest rose and fell normally, but Harry was still weary of her remaining unconscious for so long. It was unusual, and it didn't help that he knew nothing about how she got here.

Sighing, Harry quickly scribbled a note stuck it to the bag of blood, and fished around for a bottle cap that Emmeline had given him. It was a portkey that would transport whatever it was touching to her basement. Setting it on the bag of blood and the note Harry tapped it once with his wand and then it was gone.

Another Horcrux down. Three more to go.

(Hogwarts)

Hermione was apprehensive as she walked to Professor McGonagall's office, it was unusual for her to be called there, but more than that it was peculiar given the time that McGonagall had set. Right before curfew. Needless to say hallway traffic was not an issue for Hermione.

Knocking shortly on the door she waited patiently for her professor to call "Enter." Before gently easing the door open.

Walking inside Hermione shut the door behind her before speaking, "You wanted to see me, professor?" she asked politely, curiosity colouring her tone.

Minerva nodded, "Have a seat Miss Granger." She said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk, before flicking her wand to the door locking it and with another flick activating the privacy wards in her office.

The already present apprehension in the pit of Hermione's stomach grew. Unable to hold it in any longer Hermione blurted her question, "Is Harry okay?"

Eyes widening in slight surprise before a sad look developed on her features, Minerva replied, "There has been no more news on since the summer I'm afraid, Miss Granger, but that is not why I asked you here tonight." Pausing to consider how to best phrase what she had to say.

"Hermione," the girl in question stiffened at the use of her first name. "I'm afraid that it is not…safe…for you to remain at Hogwarts any longer." Before Hermione could protest, Minerva held up a hand.

"I am well aware of your abilities as well as your desire to stay and help here as you are not with on his adventures, but you must realize that staying here is only going to putting your own life needlessly in danger. As much as it pains me to say it, Hogwarts cannot protect students from Death Eaters under You-Know-Who's ruling." McGonagall sounded tired as she spoke, Hermione could hear the exhaustion as well as seeing the effects in McGonagall's face.

Hermione felt tears stinging her eyes as she replied, throat dry, "I-Do I at least get to say good-bye?" she choked out around the lump in her throat, knowing she had lost. This was not the first conversation of this nature she had had with Professor McGonagall, but somehow she knew this would be the last. She'd been through enough detentions with the Carrows' to know that Minerva was right.

If she stayed at Hogwarts she truly would die.

AN:/ So thoughts? Concerns? Passionate dislike? Hopefully not so much the last one…but hey whatever you feel is for you to know and for me to possibly find out about later. So I wanted to move along the plot some more in this one, hence Horcrux destruction No. 5, but I also wanted to look at some of what was going on away from Harry. Obviously he and Fleur are the two main characters of this fic, but there's a lot that goes on away from them too. I also wanted to establish further what's going on with Hogwarts, but there will be more of that next chapter. All reviews, favs, follows, etc are much appreciated and even the ones I don't get around to replying to are read and much appreciated.

Next Time: Hermione is leaving Hogwarts—What will Ron and the other remaining students do? Where will she go? What will Hermione do once she's left? What will Luna and Hooch do from Scotland? More importantly will Harry realize he himself is a Horcrux? What will happen when Fleur awakes? And what will Harry do when he finds out what happened to her? There are still so many questions left!

Thanks for reading!

~GGUC