A/N I realized that I have completely forgotten about Hermione's new cat, Jasper. the next chapter after this is a shorter chapter from his pov. I needed to include him again. If anyone noticed no one mentioned it, my beta included lol As to this chapter, I needed to kick the plot along so, I hope you like where I take it!

Chapter 30

Helga Hufflepuff's goblet sat in place of pride amongst Bellatrix's finest snifters and ornate crystal rock glasses. Severus had not expected to find it so brazenly displayed in the Lestrange liquor cabinet. Then again, who would think to look for a bit of Voldemort's soul amongst fine glassware and expensive liquor?

He had watched, with horrified curiosity, as she sipped her top shelf fire whiskey from the Dark Lord's horcrux. It was ludicrous and couldn't possibly be healthy. No wonder she was such a violent nutcase.

Considering where Hermione had found it in her time, Severus had imagined it would be somewhere more secure. At least locked somewhere in the dungeon or maybe under her bed. Did the Dark Lord know how it was kept? As to that, did Bellatrix even know what it was?

It had been almost too easy, sitting between her and her sulking husband, pretending to get as pissed as they did. A simple gemino charm and the original was pried from Bellatrix's fingers and stowed in his robes. Careful to cover his tracks, he'd cast a dark spell on the fake to imitate the horcruxe's aura, sloshed a bit of whiskey in, replaced it in her hand and fled the premises.

For the next eight or so hours, Severus had been so filled with anxiety he'd been unable to do more than actually drink a bit of his own cheap muggle liquor and pace about his home. Surely this time he would be found out. It had been entirely too easy. His presence immediately before Sirius's escape would be suspect, how could it not? And what if Bellatrix knew what the cup was and knew she had a fake at once?

By the time his Dark Mark finally burned, Severus had sobered up and all but worn through the already threadbare rug in his sitting room. Swallowing down the riot of nerves, he pushed down the fear that he was about to be murdered, slipped on his mask and apparated away.

An hour later, Severus was home again and so stunned to have miraculously avoided any scrutiny from Voldemort that he promptly vomited. The bile stank of alcohol and his worst childhood memories. Glaring, he banished the mess—ruined rug and all—and contacted Granger.

While he waited for a response, Severus wondered how long he would be safe. Surely it was only a matter of time. Why Bellatrix and her idiot husband didn't point to him as their master tortured them over the loss of an Order member he'd never know. He'd been lucky today, but that wouldn't last forever.

They needed to end the Dark Lord as soon as possible. Fuck waiting until he hid the locket in a year. They would come up with a way to kill Voldemort and the locket he apparently wore like some kind of sick accessory in one go. If it took out the rest of the Death Eaters, all the better.

Glad ur alive

Meet tomorrow

Usual time

We'll floo

The coin burned and cooled and burned again as he tapped through her messages. He frowned. They had been meeting in Muggle London rather than either of their homes to avoid run-ins with uninvited guests. While the Prewett's townhouse was locked down against intruders, Severus could afford no such luxury.

Mut safe

Great. At least his monumental risk had been worth it.

Knowing he would be too anxious to sleep so long as he had possession of the horcrux, Severus hauled himself to his feet and went in search of coffee.

GH

She wasn't sure what she'd expected when she stepped through Severus's floo, but a twitchy future potions master up to his ears in dark-looking books wasn't it. His head popped up from where he'd been reading when the floo activated. A second later the whole mess tumbled from the precarious stack he'd piled around himself as he snapped to attention, wand aimed at her chest.

"Granger?"

His wand dropped slightly as he recognized her and Hermione nodded, stepping aside for George to come through.

"Yes, it's me. Severus are you alright? What are you doing?"

With an agitated groan, he spun on his heel and reached into the mess. He pushed aside a few ancient looking tomes and plucked up a familiar looking goblet, thrusting it at her.

"What's all this then?" George had come through and was looking around at the mess, grunting when Severus pushed a heavier volume into his arms.

"I should have made a second suppression case for those. Been having his wretched voice poisoning my every thought for nearly a day." Severus crossed his arms and watched Hermione expectantly. "Well put it away, already!"

"Oh, sorry." He visibly relaxed when she pulled the rune-covered box from her beaded bag, sighing heavily once it was put away. She couldn't blame him. She knew what the awful things were like to live with better than most. Once it was stowed back in her bag, she eyed the mess of books. "So, what dark things did he inspire? It looks like the restricted section and the more heavily warded parts of the Black library threw up in here."

Looking around, Hermione tried to ignore the mild panic that plucked at her gut. Severus was a brilliant potioneer and genius spellcrafter. She'd seen some of the darker things his mind had worked up without the demented influence of a horcrux.

"There was a Death Eater meeting shortly after it was discovered Black escaped. I'd already nicked the cup from Bellatrix so as you might imagine, I arrived expecting slow and painful death."

He bent over, picking up a mug of coffee and another book, looking as surprised to be alive still. "Somehow, my Lord was too distracted torturing his erstwhile lover and her husband than whatever the fuck little old me had been up to."

Hermione took a step closer to George when their host waved the book he was holding wildly around the room. "Well, we're thankful you're alright, Severus."

He scoffed. "That's just it, isn't it? I am alright, this time. And you're alright too after the street fight with Bella and Dolohov, and Black is alive as well, nevermind his stint in a Death Eater dungeon." Huffing, he turned and knelt by the books, reordering them as he continued his rant. "I know this is war, but I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be able to keep doing this."

George, who'd been flipping through the book he'd been given, looked up, frowning. "You did it for years last time."

Severus practically exploded, standing again. "I hardly lasted a year before he killed Lily and disappeared for a decade. And, if I understood your memories properly, I only lasted as long as I did the second time because I killed Dumbledore. Everything is different this time! We have changed everything!" Pale fingers raked through greasy hair. "We're all flying blind and it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord discovers what we're up to. Waiting an entire year for him to maybe hide the locket in the same place is going to end in disaster."

The steam seemed to have gone out of him with one last heavy sigh. He took the book back from George and sat on the floor.

Hermione didn't know what to say. Everything Severus had said was true. Things were different this time. Who knew if Voldemort would do things exactly the same this time. They had already wreaked havoc on his complicated web of influence in the Ministry. So far as Hermione and George knew, in the original time line he'd been nearly assured of total victory until he'd grown obsessed with the prophecy.

Until that moment, their plan had been to wait until they had all of the horcruxes and torch them with Fiendfyre and then go for Voldemort. It was, admittedly, a bit reckless. But Severus was right. They couldn't wait another year.

George speaking to Severus interrupted her train of thought. He was crouching on the floor beside Severus, flipping through a leather-bound book.

"So, we can't just blast him with Fiendfyre and call it good?"

Severus shook his head. "No, he can control it better than anyone I'm aware of. He'd turn our own spell back on us."

Hermione stepped between them, reading over their shoulders. "You need something more subtle… a potion?"

Again, he shook his head. "It might not be his strongest subject, but he's quite adept at ensuring his food is never tampered with. I have no idea how I'd manage it. Mostly…" He glanced up at her and shrugged. "I'm looking for inspiration."

Nodding, Hermione turned away, pacing and thinking. Flipping pages, frustrated groans, and the clack of her boots on the bare hardwood floor were the only sounds for several minutes.

Mind catching on something he'd said, she blanched and asked, "Erstwhile lover?"

Severus let out a dry laugh. "Bellatrix."

She glanced at George, her own disgust was mirrored on his face. With a shudder, she turned back to pacing, trying very hard not to imagine the Voldemort and Bellatrix from her time.

"Hermione," George tapped a finger against his chin in thought. "do you know very much about the new-clear stuff the Russians were talking about?"

She frowned in confusion. "It's nuclear. Not really, why?"

Severus looked between them. "You mean like the A-bomb? Muggle nuclear weapons?"

"Yea…" George was nodding and Hermione could see the light of a plan behind his brown eyes. "Yuri said the Russian muggles used them where the magicals lived. They'd never seen it before and so the poison devastated them."

"No, stop." Severus held a hand up to stop him. "We can't drop a nuke on the Dark Lord. It would devastate all of Britain. Nevermind Northern France, Belgium… the Netherlands. We're trying to save people, not evaporate them."

George huffed in frustration and met Hermione's eyes. She knew where he was trying to go but he didn't understand the science well enough to explain. Thinking rapidly, she tried to put it together.

"No… not a bomb. Yuri said they developed spells to contain the radiation. If we could somehow get an extremely high dose of radiation in front of him but contain it somehow… he wouldn't be able to do anything to defend against it. It took the Kazakh Unspeakables years to develop their spells."

With a skeptical frown, Severus set his book aside. "Would your Kazakh wizards be willing to help us? I don't think I would want any part of a potential nuclear holocaust if they're not."

Gnawing on her bottom lip, Hermione turned his question and extremely valid concerns over in her mind. Would radiation destroy a horcrux? Would it matter so long as they killed Voldemort and a good portion of his followers? They could always use Fiendfyre on the horcruxes after.

As to Yuri and Tanatar, their relationship with the Russian governments and their history with nuclear weapons might stop them wanting to be involved. They may even actively try and stop them. Then again, perhaps they could be persuaded.

Staring at George—patiently watching her sort through his idea—she thought about Chernobyl. That tragedy was seven years away, the true fallout of which wasn't even known in her time. If something went awry with their plot to melt Voldemort into a radioactive puddle, would that be the fate of their own country?

But maybe that was the key.

George grinned when he realized she'd decided what to do.

"Let me write to them. I think I may be able to persuade them to help."

GH

Kingsley dug his fingers along the side of his neck. It was tense and sore, just like the rest of him. Ever since the Prewett's hats had been forcibly distributed in the Ministry, his workload had doubled. They were still, months later, chasing down those responsible for imperious charms.

The day had been long and he was ready for a shower and a few hours of sleep before rushing out to do Dumbledore's bidding.

Despite no longer feeling any loyalty to the headmaster, publicly Kingsley was still his man. As far as Dumbledore knew himself, he was still his man. Playing the role of begrudging pawn was grating but it would serve no one to break his oath. There was too much at stake and the last thing he needed was to paint a second target on his back.

Knowing what he did about what Dumbledore had done to the Weasleys, Kingsley had been moderately shocked that he'd named the Prewetts turncoats and set Order members on them. While Kingsley didn't have much family to exploit, he didn't doubt the supposed 'Leader of the Light' would turn on him to devastating effect as well if he suspected disloyalty.

It was dark in the street outside his flat. He kept a wary eye as always, take-away from the Leaky in one hand and his wand discreetly palmed in the other. Kingsley had bucked tradition and eschewed the family home in the country for a small flat in muggle London. No one knew where it was and his flat was blood warded.

It was a surprise then, to see a thoughtful Sirius Black leaning against the building entrance. Glancing around to ensure they were alone, Kingsley aimed his wand and tried to think of a security question.

"What did I say to you before you left the last Order meeting?"

Sirius pushed away from the brick wall and frowned. "You told me that Dumbledore was a fool. That high level Death Eaters were after the Prewetts as well and to be careful."

Kingsley relaxed his wand arm and went inside, the younger man falling in beside him.

"You were right, as it happens."

Stopping mid step, Kingsley looked back at him with alarm. "Whose turn is it? Has something happened?"

Looking uncharacteristically sheepish, Sirius laughed nervously. "No emergency, Kings. Let's just get inside, ya?"

Feeling anxiety begin to twist at his gut, the young auror shook his head and led the way up to his flat. He let Sirius through his wards and threw himself into a chair.

"No one is currently in any danger?" When Sirius shook his head, Kingsley summoned a fork from the kitchen and opened his dinner. "I've got four hours before I'm meant to do a job for Dumbledore and I'd like at least a bit of sleep. Tell me what happened while I eat."

He should have known better than to expect a calm evening. He'd not made it five bites into his dinner before he'd heard enough to spoil his appetite. Sirius had patiently let him cast several diagnostic charms to ensure he was hale and whole before getting into the real reason he'd searched him out.

Kingsley opened his mouth to begin his usual diatribe against Dumbledore and his penchant for child soldiers but Sirius cut him off.

"Are we wrong for blindly trusting Dumbledore, Kings?"

He was staring up at Kingsley from where he sat, looking vulnerable and confused. Kingsley understood what he was feeling. Dumbledore had long been the leader of the light, of righteousness—the presumed most powerful wizard in the world. Seeing him as anything but trustworthy and good was difficult. It was almost painful.

Still… he could hardly tell Sirius the full truth. While the younger man had some occlumency, he was so distraught his thoughts were easily skimmed without any effort. It would be too dangerous. But he didn't have to send him back to Dumbledore, either.

"You shouldn't trust anyone blindly, Sirius. That's asking to be taken advantage of and used. Dumbledore is… a complicated man." He tugged off his cap and scratched his head. "I used to think he was a good man. That he was the antithesis of a Dark Lord."

Sirius sat up, frowning deeply. "And now?"

"Now," Kingsley snatched up his dinner and forced himself to eat another bite. "Now I don't bloody know."