A/N Thank you for all the nice comments! I meant to upload yesterday but my kitchen was finally being put back together so I forgot. Ill be uploading again tomorrow or Friday. There are going to be a total of 44 chapters for the people who asked 3

Chapter 36

The cushioning charm on the camp bed needed to be recast. Shifting, George set the muggle novel he'd been reading down along his thigh and reached for his wand. As he cast the spell, Hermione pushed aside the flap separating their space from the rest of the tent, a rueful smile on her face.

"Severus says the Dark Lord is in residence at Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa went abroad without incident."

"Good." George picked up his book and slid over, making room for her beside him. When she sat, he reached for her, pulling her down to lie beside him. He kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek atop her curls. "So… we're going for the ring then?"

She pressed herself closer and nodded. "Yes."

The memory of the vicious, dark scent of curses that lingered around the Gaunt shack like a black cloud set George's teeth on edge. They'd scoped it out weeks ago, deciding to wait until Voldemort was further away in case there were any triggers tied to the nearby Riddle estate.

His arm tightened around his wife and he cocked his head to the side to see her face. "I don't suppose I can convince you to stay here and let Fabian and me handle it?"

Her brows furrowed and she rolled onto his chest. "You seemed really affected by something when we were there. Was it that bad?"

Breathing deeply, George nodded. "Yes. Whatever is there cursed Dumbledore so badly even Snape couldn't save him last time around." He traced his thumb along the side of her face. "It felt… like he took all of the hatred he had for his father and his family and used it to fuel the curses he left there."

She shuddered. "I don't want you there either, George. But we have to do this and it's not something that can be done alone. Between the four of us, we can keep each other safe."

As much as the idea of her anywhere near that shack set off every protective alarm in his body, he knew she was right. They would need all four of them there, if only for the extra wands in case anyone showed up to thwart them. There was this last, penultimate push and then they'd have all the horcruxes but the locket. They'd destroy them and then attack the manor and it would all be over.

Cupping her face, he pulled her into a deep kiss. "I love you." Another soft kiss. "Let's do it tonight."

Her smile was grim. "Exactly what I was thinking. And I love you too." Sitting back, Hermione stood and grabbed his hands, pulling him up after her. "Come on, let's go find your uncles."

Tossing his book on the small table beside the bed, he followed her out of the tent.

"So, George and Fabian go in, Hermione and I keep watch?"

Gideon crouched on George's left in the tree line thirty meters from the shack. On his other side, Hermione rolled her eyes, apparently accepting the compromise. "If you take longer than seven minutes in there, I'm coming in after you."

Beside her, Fabian snorted. "Sounds arbitrary, but fair enough."

With a final scan of the area, George squeezed Hermione's shoulder and stepped out with his uncle. The closer they got, the more the oppressive darkness weighed on him. He wasn't the best occlumens, but he drew up his shields anyways.

"That's just disgusting."

George looked to the front door where Fabian was indicating. The long rotted corpse of a snake hung from the door, a dark rusted nail keeping it in place. Wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air, George shook his head. "Don't touch it."

Fabian waved his wand, assessing what wards might be around the shack. "It doesn't look like he's added any kind of warding or trigger charms since we were here last. Still, let's go around the back. I remember seeing a window there."

Together they circled the shack, careful not to get close until they had to. The window looked barely large enough to squeeze through and at least five feet off the ground. Eyeing Fabian's broad shoulders, George considered going in alone. Fabian caught him looking and clicked his tongue.

"I'll suck it in, don't worry. Cast a featherlight charm on me and toss me up. I'll clear the room and you can climb through after me."

"Alright." Casting on his uncle, he laced his fingers together and hoisted him up. He grunted and twisted to an odd angle but after a short struggle, made it through. Sighing, George glanced back over his shoulder to where he knew the others were waiting and waved once before hauling himself through the window too.

"Oi, all clear?" He balanced, halfway through, legs dangling outside. Fabian was crouching, disabling some foul smelling curse or other. After a moment, he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Come through."

Dropping onto the ancient, creaking wood floor, George squinted through the gloom. Foul dust hung thick in the air, making it hard to breathe. Coughing, he tugged his shirt up over his nose. "It's not in this room. Come on, we've only got six minutes left."

Fabian chuckled as he followed him through the crooked doorway. "Honestly, nephew." The air around George's face cleared inside a bubble head charm. "You're a wizard, aren't you?"

He ignored the jab, taking advantage of his cleared senses to look around the only other room. It was almost twice the size of the room they'd come through. The remains of what might have once been a chair moldered in one corner. But that wasn't what drew his attention.

A heavy, evil miasma called to him from beneath the floor to his left. "Over here."

He'd meant to say it out loud. He'd meant to have his uncle disable the curse he sensed. They'd planned to levitate the ring out and drop it in Snape's warded box that waited in the extended breast pocket of Fabian's robes.

Instead, in a daze, he found himself crouching down and canceling the definitely unfamiliar curse himself, as if directed by whatever it was that urged him on. The floorboard was loose and gave easily when he lifted from the edge. Then he was staring down at it.

Somewhere behind him, Fabian was poking around at ruined furniture, not paying him any mind. But George only knew the ring.

You know what this stone truly is.

It sat, innocent looking, on a pile of rags. For a long moment. George didn't move, transfixed.

Fred's face—his Fred—was prominent in his mind, so much so he could hardly think of anything else if he'd wanted to.

Use it. Touch it. Reach out and take it. See him again.

He ran his tongue along his teeth, his hand hovering in the air above the displaced floorboard.

You've come so far for this. You can have your brother again. Take it.

From somewhere far away, someone was calling his name. He thought the voice sounded familiar, precious. But then Fred was there again in his mind's eye, the image all-consuming. He reached out.

Suddenly, the air was forced from his lungs. Something heavy bowled into him, sending him crashing to the floor, landing hard on his elbow. The jolt of pain cleared Fred and everything else from his head.

Hermione was on top of him, sobbing angrily. One of her small hands fisted in his shirt, the other struck his chest.

"Stupid! You stupid, stupid man. You almost…" A particularly hard sob cut off her words and she smacked him again. "You're the one that was so worried… and you almost— George you can't leave me!"

Realization struck him then. What he'd almost done, what he'd almost cost them, cost her, tore through him. His bruised elbow complained loudly when he wrapped her in his arms, crushing her to him, but he ignored it.

Soft curls surrounded his face as he buried it against the crook of her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry." He gently kissed his way up her neck. "I lost my head. The curse…" He kissed the hand that cupped his cheek. "It caught me. The stone…" He stared down into her tear-filled brown eyes. "It knew about Fred. The temptation to see him again…"

She moaned miserably. "Oh, George. I'm sorry." She threw her arms around his neck and sighed heavily. "Do you think that's what happened to Dumbledore? He saw his sister?"

Finally tearing his eyes from her, George looked over at his uncles, both crouching, wands out, just closing the case around the ring. "Probably. But he came alone. You were right, Hermione. This definitely required a team." He considered. "Was that seven minutes? It didn't seem like it."

She chuckled against his chest, her voice muffled. "Only five. I knew something was wrong and came early."

Affection for her burned through the lingering adrenaline of the moment. "Thank Merlin." He reached down and pulled her face up to his, kissing her softly. "I'd be absolutely lost without you, love."

The weight of that admission, and all that it truly meant, didn't need to be explained. He knew she understood.

Four horcruxes sat ominously on the table between them. The shimmer of protective warding was all that kept their malicious influence contained. The cup, the diary, the diadem and the ring.

"Are we sure the radiation will destroy them?"

Gideon asked the question they were all wondering. They looked around the room, catching one another's eyes only to look away nervously. Ambrosi took a step toward the radiation shield.

"In theory. High levels of radiation have deleterious effects on inanimate objects, but it varies depending on the material and radiation levels. These contain part of a human soul so… I hypothesize it will work."

Hermione, tucked into George's side, eyed the horcruxes warily. "And if it doesn't?"

Ambrosi shrugged. "We steal muggle barge, send it all out to sea…" He made an explosive gesture with his hands and smirked. "Light up with Fiendfyre."

"Huh." George almost smiled at the scientist. He had come to understand the Georgian was an absolute madman. Seamus Finnigan, all grown up and four times as smart. "That's not a bad idea, actually."

"Well, we shall see now." He waved his wand back towards the horcruxes, levitating the diary through his shield. Setting it down beside the uranium rod, he shook his shoulders and puffed out a sharp breath. "OK. Here we go."

Checking his warding, ensuring the transfer hadn't affected its integrity, he levitated the rod. Holding it vertically over the diary, he slowly lowered it until it touched the leather cover.

At first, nothing happened. A collective, disappointed hiss of air filled the tent. It couldn't just be easy.

And then, slowly, a black viscous substance began to ooze from the diary. Smoke spiraled out after it, filling the warded dome. An angry shrieking erupted then, the warped face of a young man twisting and churning in the smoke.

Hermione stiffened, the nails on the hand she'd had on his back grazing skin when she clutched at him. "Don't stop, Ambrosi. Keep pressing."

He nodded and did not waver. From everything Hermione had told him, George had expected targeted attacks from the horcrux. Then again, when they had first destroyed the locket, they'd been wearing the thing for weeks. It knew exactly how to hurt Ron. This time, they had kept all the horcruxes locked in a warded box. Now, it was trapped inside Ambrosi's wards.

It couldn't hurt them. He knew the moment Hermione realized it too. Her breath came out in a rush and she leaned heavily into him. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head as the last of the horcrux died.

Carefully setting the rod back on the table, Ambrosi let out a long, exhausted breath and sagged noticeably. "Da well." He gestured at the ruined diary. "It works."

"Alright!" Gideon clapped his hands together, he and his brother both grinning eagerly. "Who wants to do the next one?"