The boys were disappointed by the lack of information found through the Horcrux. Harry paced back and forth as he had her repeat every word. Ron set about fiddling with a wizard wireless radio once she'd recounted the basics. Draco sat at the table and jotted down notes.
"So he said he's the only one as far as he knows?" Harry repeated. When she opened her mouth, he added. "What did he say exactly?"
"He said that if there are any others, they were made after his. He was made at sixteen." She sat primly on one of the beds, the book open to the first page of the ritual.
He shook his head. "Sixteen? Sixteen. Hermione, how difficult is it to make a Horcrux?"
"Well," she began, "there's the murder—"
"Magically, skill-wise," he clarified.
She rolled her lip through her teeth thoughtfully. "Incredibly difficult. I think, maybe, I could manage it with a few years of preparation, but that's only in the case that I would want to and even then, it would take a lot out of me."
"Years?" Draco asked. "It would take years of preparation? Do you think it took him that long?"
"I don't know. Perhaps. For a sixteen-year-old to perform such a feat is unthinkable, but Tom has always been called brilliant. Some think he might be more brilliant than Professor Dumbledore."
Harry frowned. "You said he looked sad, regretful." She nodded. "He spent more than a year preparing for this ritual, it clearly wasn't done on a whim."
"Something isn't right," Draco agreed.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"I mean," said Draco, "that, if half his soul was torn on committing murder and splitting, he'd never have done it. It doesn't make sense for him to be so distraught."
"You didn't see him," she said.
"No, but maybe that's the point. You have always had a weakness for good-looking boys." Draco shook his head. "And if Professor Riddle falls under that now, then I don't doubt he was a pretty teenager, too."
Her cheeks warmed. "I wouldn't believe him just because he's handsome!"
"No, but you can be rather gullible," said Harry, "easily pushed into emotional reactions."
"I am highly logical," she protested.
"And highly sensitive," countered Harry.
Irritation flared hot and she had a good mind to put the boys in their places when the staticky noise of the wireless cut through the conversation.
"Our new Chief Warlock has voted with the majority to end the investigation into the death of Albus Dumbledore."
"That's right. Lord Voldemort has also said it's time for Hogwarts to move into the present. He's called for Headmaster Slughorn to step down. What do you think old Sluggy will do, Dwight?"
"With half of Britain breathing down his neck, to include such a powerful political figure? I think it's time for him to retire."
"Who do you think will—"
"Could you turn that down a little?" Hermione murmured. "I have a headache after last night."
"Right." Ron turned the volume dial until the noise was at a bearable level.
They were talking about Tom. He'd already seized power in the Wizengamot and now he was trying to take it in Hogwarts as well. Would he make himself Headmaster? That would be quite the undertaking.
"Minister Rookwood has ordered all muggleborns to come to the ministry for an official wand-weighing. Exempt only are Hogwarts students, who will submit their wands upon return to school this September."
Her head snapped up and she exchanged gazes of disbelief with the boys. "Mandatory wand-weighing? That's prejudiced!"
"We aren't exactly living in a just society, Hermione," Harry reminded her.
"Yes," she spluttered. "But there's no justification. This is nothing to do with the Statute. It's just– just discrimination!"
Ron pursed his lips. "And Rookwood is about as bad as they come. Dad has complained about him a few times. Might as well be Lu—" He cleared his throat and shook his head ruefully.
Hermione's head fell into her hands. She was so tired and they had only just begun the search Dumbledore put to them.
"Right. We need to focus on these Horcruxes." Harry had started pacing again. "We know one of them, but we need to figure out the others."
That reminded Hermione of the cold truth; Dumbledore had said that to defeat Tom they would need to kill him. Did he really expect them to do it? They were teenagers. Or was it merely their responsibility to get the Horcruxes so someone older could defeat him?
That seemed more logical.
Either way made her heart ache.
They were developing a rhythm to their days. Hermione would apparate them somewhere new within the forest every other day. They ate breakfast of magically warmed oatmeal every morning and nibbled sandwiches for lunch. One of them put together something resembling dinner, usually Ron or Harry, since they were far better at it than she or Draco.
During daylight, Harry and Ron scouted around the campsite to make sure they were safe and (once or twice) to hunt or forage. Hermione and Draco stayed back at the tent and researched, brainstormed, or studied in peace. Well, Draco studied. Hermione continued to comb through the dark arts book again and again for hints at what Tom— Voldemort — was doing.
The section on Horcruxes was, despite its graphic descriptions on their creation, unfortunately bereft information about them. There was almost nothing available on how to tell something was a Horcrux or on the symptoms of them, and less about their possible destruction.
This is a how-to manual, she reminded herself. Of course, it doesn't tell how to destroy them .
Besides which, they were such a rare piece of magic that she could only find one person who had made one other than Voldemort: Herpo the Fowl. He'd made one and that was all she knew.
It was supremely frustrating. At least thrice a day, she was tempted to hurl the disgusting book across the tent or light on fire or…
She was getting tired of doing nothing.
After eating every day, she would go and check the wards. She checked them at least three times a day, except on days when she set them, then it depended on the time of day she finished.
By now, the layers of wards were so inscribed on her memory that she hardly thought the incantations. Her wand movements were all abbreviated and she had added some personal modifications, like blocking scent so animals didn't react differently around their wards than they would any ordinary part of the forest.
They didn't even tire her out now. At first, when the last ward slipped from her wand, she would nearly crumble to the ground. Now, she was practiced and strong to the last.
She spread out on the bed and considered what to do next as she stared at the fabric ceiling.
"Hermione."
"Yes, Draco?" She didn't even look up.
"I have an idea."
He didn't elaborate and his tone had sounded hesitant. Hermione sat up and gazed at the blond where he sat in a dinky chair.
"What idea?" she asked.
He bit his lip, took a breath, and said, "Malfoy Manor. If we went to the family vault, the one that houses things my ancestors didn't trust to goblins, we might find something that could destroy the Horcruxes."
She wanted to dismiss it for the sheer terror that threatened at the idea of returning to the manor, but the logical side of her knew it was a good idea. There were centuries, perhaps a millennium of treasures hoarded by the Malfoys. Seeing as they traced their lineage to before the delineation of dark magic, it was possible there was something that was destructive enough to defeat the horcrux, like a basilisk fang or a cursed sword or something.
"That's… we should try it," she said after a moment of consideration.
He flinched. "We can go without you. It'd be better for you to stay here while—"
"No," she cut in. "I'm the most familiar with Horcruxes, so I should go."
"Well then, we'll have you under the cloak," he insisted. Hermione nodded. She could live with that compromise. The boys, while perhaps not Lucius Malfoy's favorite people, were theoretically under no threat from the man.
Hermione took out a sheet of parchment and started noting properties to look for.
Something either indestructible or nearly so, it also had to be able to destroy metal and stone. It should be impervious to most magic itself…
By the time Harry and Ron returned from their search, she had an extensive list of possibilities.
"What's all this?" Ron asked when he caught sight of the two foot long parchment.
"We're going to Malfoy Manor tomorrow," she murmured as she continued cross-checking the sheet.
Harry paused in putting away the cloak. "What?"
"Draco had the idea and I agree—"
"Absolutely not."
"Harry, listen—"
"No. You are not going back there—"
"It'll be fine," she tried again.
He threw aside the enchanted cloth and stormed to her. "No, it's too dangerous."
"Harry James Potter, you will stop interrupting and listen to me."
That shut him up.
"Now, I'll be wearing the cloak. We will be searching the hidden family treasury for something strong enough to destroy the Horcruxes," she explained. "I will be invisible the entire time while the three of you take point."
He looked like he wanted to keep fighting as he chewed on the words.
"That's not a bad idea, mate," Ron told him. Hermione continued to stare him down and Draco glanced between the two.
Finally, Harry gave a nod. "Fine."
"Good." She sat back on the bed and let the boys fuss over the tent and dinner for the evening. They would insist she rest and undoubtably keep a keen eye on her until she went under the cloak.
She would let them if only to distract them all.