A/N: In response to a prompt by SweetShireen in the HMS_Harmony_MAYhem collection.
Prompt:
An alternative solution to ending Voldemort
Summary: While the golden trio planned their Gringotts heist, Hermione remembers something from her time at Malfoy Manor that changes her mind about their mission to hunt Horcruxes. Realizing there was another path to victory that might not lead to the death of Harry. She takes matters into her own hands and changes the course of events. Only time will tell if her risks will pay off or if she doomed them all to repeat history.
Chapter 1: Alio Modo ~ Another Way
The Riddle estate loomed in the night sky. The Gaunt shack stood in the distance. If Hermione hadn't know it was there, right on the outskirts of the town, she wouldn't have known to look for it in the thick overgrowth. The walk up the hillside to the largest house around would be quick. Lights flickered in the windows that had been black for decades. Of course he would go back there now, Hermione thought. He had no reason to think he would be subject to a direct attack. If someone dared try to breach the protective wards, they would be out in the open for far too long. And who would dare at this point. The ministry fallen, now an arm of Voldemort's growing power. The resistance was well and firmly underground. If the weeks at Shell Cottage had taught her anything, it was that there was a losing side. And it wasn't Voldemort. The only reason everything hadn't come crashing down around the entire wizarding and muggle world was because the dark wizard, poised to control it all, was hopelessly distracted. By his wand, by Harry, by a search for the elder wand. He had that now, didn't he. It was the beginning of the end.
What was her plan, exactly? It was the question she asked herself multiple times along her journey to that spot. There wasn't much of a plan. Still, it was better than the futile attempt to break into and out of Gringotts they had been working on with Griphook.
Harry. He would be so confused by her choices. He was already concerned about her mental state. A small chuckle left her lips. Turns out he had every reason for that concern. After all, she was about to infiltrate the dark lord's strong hold. Try to anyway. She had clearly lost her mind. Well, so had Harry. Breaking into Gringotts to find a needle in a very well protected haystack. And then what? They didn't know what the final Horcrux was, let alone where it was. The Nagini was basically untouchable. The doomsday clock was ticking and they needed to pause it. Give their side more time.
Taking a small flask out of her inside cloak pocket, she took a drink. Felt the transformation take hold. The feeling wasn't as jarring as it was the first time she used polyjuice potion. In fact, it was becoming a familiar feeling. Placing the flask carefully back, she knew she had to keep it close. There was no way to know how long her task would take. Then again, it could be all over before it even started. She should have left Harry and Ron a note. She was too afraid they would try to stop her. Or worse, join her. There wasn't a way to do what she intended any other way but alone. Patting her wand… not her wand, Bellatrix's wand... she took a breath, straightened the black dress Fleur had altered for her. The plan was always for her to disguise herself as the dark witch. Thanks to the hair that had been left on her sleeve. Feeling her hair, Hermione felt the wild curls, knew she needed to get moving.
Forcing her feet forward, she passed the shack, headed for the main gate in the distance. So much had to go her way. The reports of the Malfoy Manor lockdown had to be true. The real Bellatrix couldn't be at the house, or show up while she was inside. Voldemort had to believe that his most loyal lieutenant would dare to disobey his orders. If he did believe it, there as an obvious risk of punishment. The protections around the house had to recognize the disguise and not the witch under the influence of the potion. If she got inside, unharmed, well, then her problems would get even more dire. She needed to get the dark lord alone. The thought made her blood grow cold. Was she really doing this? There was still time to apparate back to safety. Back to Harry.
Resolute, Hermione shook her head. She was doing this for Harry. She knew the terrible truth that no one else did. No one alive anyway. There was an accidental Horcrux in the world. The only end game for the mission they were on, to destroy all the Horcruxes tethering Voldemort to the mortal world, was for Harry to die. Dumbledore had to have known that. It didn't take Hermione long with the books she took from the Headmaster's office to figure it out. It was a truth she hadn't been able to share. How could she? Tell the man she loved that he was either destined to die or else let Voldemort take over the magical world. He would be as good as dead when that happened anyway. So what was the point. Was that the conclusion Dumbledore had also come to?
Each thought she had, strengthened her steps. Pushed her forward. More quickly than she anticipated, she found herself at the end of the small footpath up to the entry gate ahead. No shield yet. It must be at the physical boundary. She remembered the motion that had been made at the Malfoy gate. She remembered every detail of that night. She did now. Some of the memories had to work their way out of her fragile psyche. The torture she had endured under Bellatrix's expert hand left her brain foggy. There were events that had been hazy until the intervening weeks gave her mind time to work through the trauma. The memories were crystal clear now. And what she remembered would be the one piece of information that would give her the edge she needed to survive the initial encounter.
Taking out the walnut wand, Hermione drew it down the gate. The metal became smoke as the tip skimmed the surface. Stepping forward, she closed her eyes and waited for hell to rain down on her. Nothing happened. She turned her head and watched the gate reconstitute itself. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to embody the confidence of the witch she was impersonating. The wand was put away again, if everything went according to plan it wouldn't be needed until she made her escape. Going toe to toe against Voldemort with magic on his turf was suicide. She wasn't looking to become a martyr.
As she approached the main doors a voice called out, "Don't move."
The voice wasn't familiar. Hermione stopped in her tracks, complying. Hoping to figure out her next actions based on the wizard's commands. The man approached her with a surprised look. Hermione crossed her arms and hoped she exuded disdain and impatience.
"I thought you weren't allowed to leave your sister's," the Death Eater stated with some uncertainty.
"I need to talk to the Dark Lord. I didn't go anywhere, I came here." Hermione punctuated her words with a hard stare.
The two stood face to face. Each trying to assess the other's resolve. As the seconds ticked on, Hermione knew the potion's effects were also ticking away. She growled and held her hands out. Nonverbally asking what it was he wanted from her.
Finally he relented, and motioned for the door. "He's in the study."
Hermione wouldn't have any idea where that was. She needed him to lead the way. "Am I not a guest? Or is this how you treat all those who come calling for an audience? The Dark Lord can't appreciate people just barging in on him unannounced."
The wizard seemed to roll his eyes, but recovered quickly. He opened the door and led Hermione toward a room in the back right. It was on the ground floor so that was a plus, but Hermione wasn't pleased to be so far from the only exit known to her.
"My lord, lady Lestrange to see you," the wizard said formally.
Hermione couldn't see inside the room yet. She didn't know if he was alone or with someone who could out her immediately. The Death Eater stiffened and sent her an evil smile. Whatever the reaction was from Voldemort, it wasn't going to be good. Steeling herself, Hermione moved into the doorway.
"Bellatrix. This is unexpected," his voice whispered, carrying an edge of impatience. "Especially since I gave you orders to stay put, after the disastrous events last month."
It had been over a month. That surprised her and it shouldn't. It took that long to make the polyjuice potion. The mental wounds still seemed fresh, not a month old. "My lord, forgive my insubordination. I had some things that needed to be discussed. In private," she said, eyeing the Death Eater lingering at the door, waiting to see if Voldemort would punish Bellatrix.
"Leave us, Rockwood," Voldemort finally said.
Hermione smirked at the Death Eater until Voldemort kept speaking.
"Should Severus stay?"
She was glad she hadn't been looking at him when he mentioned Snape. It gave her time to replace her surprised look with a more neutral countenance. Turning, she saw the dark haired man lean forward in a high back leather chair. It had completely obscured his form from her angle until his movements. "It's a private matter," she repeated, lowering her voice. Hoping Voldemort would catch her drift. Forcing her eyes to scan him appreciatively, he was a man after all.
"I see. Severus, give us the room. I'll find you when we're done here," Voldemort said.
There was no way to know what the dark wizard was thinking. Hermione could feel her heart beating against her chest. Wiping her palms on her skirts, she stayed in her spot. Snape seemed annoyed at the interruption and also seemed to pick up on the innuendo to her embarrassment.
"I'll be upstairs," he said and didn't elaborate before closing the door.
Voldemort was staring at Hermione. "I can't have you disobeying my wishes like that. You're lucky it's just Snape and Rockwood," he said, stepping closer and then took Hermione's hand, twisted it behind her back and pulled her toward him.
She let out a grunt of pain.
"Or else I'd need to make an example of you," he hissed close to her ear.
Hermione brought her free hand up and pressed it against his chest. She hoped he'd interpret it as a gesture of affection, not a move to attempt some distance between their bodies. "I'm sorry, it's just that it's been nearly a month. I can't help you locked away." His grip tightened, and she was certain it would leave bruises, perhaps even break her wrist if he kept pressing it back.
"It seems you can't help me when you're not either," he countered and finally released her.
She needed to get a little distance to get her poisoned dagger out and ready before drawing him close again. Hermione took a small step back. "Maybe you can make sure no one can hear us," she said, motioning toward the door.
It seemed his curiosity was piqued. He turned, cast the muffliato charm. It was all the time she needed to slip her blade into her right hand. She knew from her practicing that in that position it was concealed neatly in the draping of her sleeves. She also had to be careful not to cut herself with it. While she had been given access to Bill and Fleur's potion stored to make the polyjuice potion she managed to make a batch of paralysis potion and weedosoros. The blade was imbued with both. It seemed fitting to do this particular deed with Bellatrix's own knife. The one that took Dobby's life. She knew how long it took to kill unfortunate, unsuspecting beetles, but couldn't really be sure how long it would take to kill a person.
She turned toward the fire. Was she really ready to kill someone? Even if it was Voldemort. That's what they'd been working toward this whole time. She just never expected it to be so… intimate. Or at her hand. She felt him behind her. His hands came up and rested on her shoulders.
"How's Delphini?" he asked.
And there it was. There had been brief moments over the intervening weeks after Bellatrix's curses where she wasn't sure if she understood the hushed conversation correctly. Or to trust that the words exchanged between Narcissa and Bellatrix had even happened.
"Cissy, we have to be sure. Before we call him," Bellatrix spoke in hushed tones while they waited for the Goblin. "If I'm right, he'll punish me severely. It won't matter that I gave him an heir."
"That's not something you should be saying out loud," Narcissa warned. "Look how Rodolphus reacted. Delphini would be the target of more Death Eaters than Harry Potter. An heir would displace every wizard that believes they'll be at the dark lord's right hand when he's fully installed to his throne."
"They should think that position would be filled by me regardless." Bellatrix was clearly offended, but not surprised. "Delphini will know her place when she comes of age. Voldemort will see to it."
It took Hermione weeks to really understand what she had heard while she was laying on the floor at Bellatrix's feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. It was the reason she had been certain she'd get this close to the wizard. Then Voldemort moved Hermione's hair aside and brought his lips down on the nape of her neck. Controlling her response, she closed her eyes and summoned the courage to take action. Turning in his arms, she looked into his red eyes. Without a word, she slipped the knife into his chest, hoping her aim had been sure and his heart was big enough to be injured. His hands tightened on her shoulders and then he leaned forward, using her to bear his weight. Confusion, shock, anger, all played out in his eyes. She was surprised so much emotion was still possible in someone who had eroded his humanity to such a degree.
Helping him to the chair Snape had been sitting in, he sat heavily. The paralysis was setting in. He was fading fast. "I know I can't kill you. You've seen to that. But your soul will need to find another body. By that time, your Horcruxes will be gone. You'll be as mortal as me," she explained. It was still in her interests that he thought it was Bellatrix who killed him. It would ensure he'd run and hide again. Not sure who to trust. It was tempting though to make sure he knew a mudblood killed this body. Finally, the life drained from him, and a dark cloud seemed to ooze from his pores. Like fine sand, it exited his body, hovered in the space between them.
For a terrifying moment, she wondered if he would try to possess her. She hadn't thought of that or considered researching a protection for such things. To her relief, it rushed toward a window and was gone in a blink.
The noise of the breaking glass had alerted Rockwood, and likely Snape. Banging at the door had her taking out her wand. She'd leave the knife in place. More evidence that it was Bellatrix. His blood was thick on her hands, stained her dress. There wasn't time to bother with it as the door flew open. She was certain she wouldn't be able to apparate and needed to get outside the gate. She had enough time to protect herself with a shield charm before diving behind a desk. More footsteps rang out from the hallway. There were more Death Eaters, ready to fight. Her best chance was not fighting at all. Casting a disillusionment charm on herself, she judged the distance to the now broken window. Running quickly toward it, she was shocked to hit an invisible force. A blast of wind filled the room and a door slammed. Hermione turned and saw somehow she was alone with Snape.
"I know you're still here. I saw to that. Show yourself," he said, his wand up, facing the direction of the window while he walked closer to Voldemort's body. "I'll help you get out of here."
Was it a lie? She didn't have many options. Letting the charm fade, Hermione stood, wand up, matching Snape's stance.
"Do you know what you've done? He can't be killed," he snapped.
"I bought us time," she said, forgetting she still looked like Bellatrix. More banging on the wall distracted her and she heard the unmistakable sound of several people apparating nearby. "We couldn't destroy the Horcruxes before he started his final push. He had the wand he thought would beat Harry. It was a matter of days. You have to know I'm right."
His eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Tell me quickly. I can't keep this room secured for long. Not without raising suspicions against myself."
Was he still working for the Order? After everything that happened. He killed Dumbledore. Harry saw it himself.
Snape grew impatient and was using legilimency before she could empty her mind. It wouldn't matter. He wasn't trying to read her mind, he was giving her information. Albus had been dying. It was all planned. The memories were overwhelming. He could have taken her out in her moment of vulnerability but he didn't. She had to trust him. "Hermione. I'm Hermione."
He stood straighter, clearly surprised by the revelation. He recovered quickly. "There's a tunnel behind the bookshelf. Most of the Death Eaters don't know about it," he explained, rushing to the opposite wall. It opened and they exchanged serious looks. They were both at each other's mercy. "It will take you to a cave that is just outside the protections. When you see the snake statue, you'll be able to apparate. Return to Shell Cottage. I'll get a message to the Arthur when it's safe," he said, and send a bright patronus ahead of her. It looked like a large mammal, but it was gone so fast that was all she knew. It was off with its message. It might even beat her to Shell Cottage. The fact Snape knew that's where she was going, where Harry was, confirmed she could trust him.
She was speechless. There wasn't time for speeches anyway. A nod was all I was able to convey before turning toward the tunnel. Then she turned back to him. "The snake. Nagini. Is it here? It needs to be killed. It's a Horcrux."
"It was here. In a protective shield," he said, looking toward the door. "I'll do what I can. It's going to be tricky as it is to explain what happened here. I will make it a priority when its safe."
As satisfied as she could be, she stepped forward. The bookcase closed behind her and darkness was immediate. Lighting the wand tip, she ran. As fast as she could. The ground pitched forward and suddenly the tunnel opened up to a large cavern. A few feet ahead, she saw a large snake statue guarding the exit. Turning on the spot, she felt the squeeze associated with a successful apparition, and then she was on the beach. Just outside the protective wards. She couldn't see the cottage but knew it was there. She collapsed to her knees, taking deep breaths. What had she done?
Salt water swirled around her. She could see the blood come off her hands, tinging the small pools pink.
"Stay where you are," Bill's voice commanded. She looked up. Three wands were pointing back at her. She felt the effects of the polyjuice potion fade. The dress she wore loosened.
"Hermione," Harry said in shock and moved toward her, ignoring the complaints from Ron and Bill. "You're hurt," his concern was real when he saw the blood washing off her.
She shook her head. A coldness enveloped her and her teeth started to chatter. "No. The blood isn't mine. I'm not hurt."
"Harry, we don't know that's Hermione. Step away until we can verify," Bill tried to manage the situation.
"He's right. Ask your questions," she said even as her vision blurred. She knew it was shock.
"Our first year, what was the color of the bottle that contained the potion you drank to go back through the flames?" Harry asked, clearly annoyed with the protocol when there were so many real questions that needed answers.
"Purple," she answered and waited to see if they'd make him ask another.
A pop from someone apparating caused alarm. "Get her inside," Bill said to Harry and waited with Ron to see who else had arrived.
Hermione felt Harry's hands brace her arms, helping her to her feet. She tried looking behind her to see who had apparated to the beach, terrified she had lead the Death Eaters to the safe house, but she was through the door to the house before she had a chance. There was a buzzing in her ears. She knew people were talking around her. The words weren't getting through.
A cup was placed in her hands, the heat seemed to shake her out of the trance that had taken over.
"Where did you go?" Harry asked her, looking with concern.
Her hand flew up to her mouth. What was happening to her. "Sick," she said and quickly made it to the small half bathroom next to the kitchen. There wasn't time to close the door before she was retching in the toilet.
Harry was behind her, rubbing her back, trying to comfort her.
Noises of people talking excitedly erupted in the small cottage.
"What happened?" Harry asked quietly. Understanding the commotion was a result of something involving her.
Wiping tears from her eyes, she felt the sticky residue of the blood.
Harry ran a small towel under the warm water and handed it to her, let her clean herself while shielding the door. He glanced back and saw Arthur, Shacklebolt, and Lupin talking animatedly to Bill.
"I killed him. I did it," she said, getting his attention again.
"Who?" he asked, kneeling in front of her. "Who did you kill?"
"You-Know-Who," she said not intending for it to sound so sarcastic, she was uncertain what would happen to the tracker now that he was dead and didn't want to say Voldemort aloud. "His body anyway. I killed his body."
"Harry," Remus came into view. "We need to talk to her."
Hermione tore her eyes away from Harry and looked at Lupin. "Can I change my clothes?"
"Of course," the older man relented, moved out of the way.
Knowing she needed to be quick, she made her way to the room with her things and closed the door. Standing for several seconds, she let the silence surround her. Suddenly doubt was creeping in. What if she made matters worse? What if Voldemort found someone to possess and came back with a vengeance. Now wasn't the time to second guess or break down. Hermione finally moved and pulled off the horrid dress. She left it in a heap near her things, pulled on some jeans and a flannel. As she rolled up the sleeve, she saw the swollen bruises encircling her left wrist. That was all he was now. A phantom. Was that better? With a deep breath, she returned to the living room where everyone had gathered.
Harry met her with the tea and led her to a chair.
Looking at the faces around the room, Hermione knew she had a lot of explaining to do. She didn't know where to start. She realized there were people in the room who didn't even know about the Horcruxes. She rubbed her face with her hands. She had planned for the murder but not the aftermath. Part of her was surprised she was still alive to face the consequences. She had Snape to thank for that.
Meeting Harry's look, she wanted to talk to him in private. What did it matter now though. Honestly, why had they even kept this secret for so long. Voldemort would continue to be a threat. They just had more time. Had anything changed? Or were they worse off. Effectively regressed to the era when no one knew where Voldemort was, and some even doubted he was out there. Would the Death Eaters give up without their leader or would this motivate them to take up his mantle.
Finally, Arthur leaned forward. His fatherly presence calmed her. "Hermione. I know this is difficult. There are things that can't be discussed. Can you tell us if it's true. That You-Know-Who is dead."
That should have been an easy question. It wasn't. "Harry. We need to tell them."
"I'm not sure," he said and looked from Hermione to Ron then to Remus. Many in the Order knew they were on a mission from Dumbledore. Lupin had said as much when he showed up at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"What we need to do. It's different now. And you need to know the truth about something," she said cryptically, knowing she'd need to tell him what he was if she was going to get him to understand why she had done what she'd just done. Finally, he relented. With permission she walked herself through the thought process that brought her to that moment. "I killed the body of You-Know-Who, but his soul is still bound to the world. He has made Horcruxes that we've been hunting."
It was clear from the look on the faces of those who hadn't been let in on the secret they at least knew what Horcruxes were.
"More than one?" Shacklebolt's deep voice asked.
Hermione knew she needed to choose her next words carefully. "At least six." She still wasn't sure if she would tell Harry about her suspicions alone or with the group. Nothing she did that day was a solution to any problem, particularly that one. "Three have been destroyed. We think we know what the sixth is and where the fourth is. The fifth is still a mystery. And I had reason to believe he was about to make his next move. He's been continuing to work in the shadows because he didn't understand how Harry was constantly defeating him and has blamed their wand core connection. He got a wand he believes to be the most powerful wand crafted. His next step was to use it. We were running out of time. So I decided to give us more time." It was a very simplistic explanation without much detail in her apparent leaps in logic. How much did they need to know though?
"You could have clued us in," Ron piped up. "We were terrified when we couldn't find you."
"I couldn't, Ron. Every scenario I could think of had to be done alone. I knew neither you nor Harry would agree to that."
"How did you get close enough?" Remus asked.
Drinking from her tea cup, she considered the question. "We had a strand of Bellatrix's hair and polyjuice potion. I knew Bellatrix could get close."
"How did you know?" It was Harry who asked the pointed question.
Hermione sat back. She was surprise by his tone, not his question. "I know you've been worried about me since Malfoy Manor. I don't blame you. I've been worried myself. There were things that were said and done to me after you and Ron were taken away that I wasn't sure were real. It took time for me to work it all out."
Ron shifted uncomfortably. Hermione knew he had been visibly upset by what had happened to her. The first day at Shell Cottage she had appreciated his attention. As the week went on, his overprotectiveness wore on her. There was still residual hurt over the way Ron had abandoned her and Harry and it had all come to head. The fissure between the two was still a gaping wound.
"Just because Bellatrix is a girl doesn't mean the person who changes into her has to be one," Ron said, pushing again to keep Hermione as a lookout outside the bank.
"Ron, I'm not fragile," Hermione erupted.
He put his hands up defensively. Up until that moment, every time he tried that argument Hermione would simply roll her eyes and press on as if he hadn't said anything. "I didn't say you were. I just think we only have so many ways to conceal ourselves and we might need a distraction in the bank."
"I know what you both think," she said, looking between Ron and Harry. Harry didn't look like he appreciated being brought into argument. "I see the looks you both give me. I know I have nightmares, but they're actually useful."
"They're useful?" Harry asked, skeptical.
Hermione rubbed her face. "There are things that Bellatrix did to me that I wasn't sure were real. It's taken time to work it all out. I know you think it's not healthy to dwell on that night, but I need to remember. I can't process what happened to me if I don't know what happened to me."
"Maybe not remembering is better," Ron offered, trying to be helpful not knowing it was the exact wrong thing to say.
Hermione rounded on him. "Of course you'd think that. Just pretend it didn't happen? Just go on about my life and lie to myself about that life."
"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked defensively.
"I mean you didn't have a problem abandoning us and then expect us to just accept you're back like it never happened. You want to do things the easy way and nothing about what we're doing is easy. This isn't school. You can't just copy off me and expect your half-assed efforts to get you ahead." Hermione knew she had gone too far, that she was kicking her friend while he was down but she couldn't stop herself now that she had started.
"Hermione. That's not really fair," Harry tried to diffuse the situation.
She laughed at that. Fair. "Who ever promised you fair?" she asked and got back to annotated the map of the lower levels of the bank. The conversation was over, the damage was done. "We'll need everyone inside and together to deal with these protections."
Ron had been avoiding her since the argument, the rift growing the longer it remained while Harry tried to get Hermione to talk about what was going on inside her head. Some things she couldn't articulate, others were best left to herself. Like how she knew Bellatrix could get close to Voldemort. "Bellatrix and her sister had a conversation over me when they thought I was unconscious. She has a kid with You-Know-Who," she dropped the fact on the room and let it sink in.
"Well, that's a twist," Shacklebolt finally said.
"How did you know where he was?" Arthur asked, looking uncomfortable with the revelation.
At that, she felt her ears heat up and she knew they were red. "From Remus. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I went for a walk around the cottage to clear my head when he came to update Bill on the Order reports. They thought they were alone on the porch. I was around the corner in the garden."
Lupin shifted. "We only suspected You-Know-Who was at the old Riddle Manor. We haven't confirmed that."
"Consider it confirmed," she said with a rueful smile. "I went there knowing it might be empty or even a trap. It made sense though. That he'd feel like it was his right to be there. Not because it was his family, he'd despise the muggle connection, because that was where he created one of his first Horcruxes, if not the first. Where he hides these things, what they mean to him, places associated with them have a spiritual connection."
"What would you have done if Bellatrix was there?" Harry asked.
"The intelligence the Order gathered suggested no one at Malfoy Manor had been allowed to leave it since we got away. The big hurdle was going to be explaining to him why Bellatrix would have disobeyed his orders," she explained. Her hand went up the back of her neck. Remembering his touch she shook it off. "It didn't take much to tell him a story he believed."
Harry studied her reaction. Hermione knew there would be more questions later. "How did you kill him?" he settled on his immediate question.
"The knife. Bellatrix's knife. I knew I couldn't hope to get a spell off. I needed to get close and strike him when his guard was down."
"That was incredibly reckless," Remus said, looking ill.
Hermione didn't have a counter argument. He was right after all. It still stung to hear it spoken by someone she respected so much.
"What actually happens when a person with a horcrux loses their body?" Bill asked. He has been quietly listening. Hermione almost forgot he was there.
"Their soul is bound to the world. I watched it leave his body and then escape through a window. As far as it knows he was betrayed by Bellatrix," Hermione explained.
"We need to find the remaining Horcruxes immediately," Remus assessed. "We can try to find where what's left of him went, but we're better off making sure it's not tied to this world for long."
"We're pretty sure there's one in the bank," Harry interjected. "We'd been working on a plan to get inside the Lestrange vault."
Arthur and Remus exchanged glances. "We know someone who's been in that vault," Arthur said without mentioning Snape's name. "I'll go at once to explain what we need. What is the Horcrux in?"
Hermione listened to the back and forth about the suspected objects. Ron was participating again and she sunk back into the chair, wishing to be invisible. They should have been working with the Order from the beginning. There were resources that were an advantage. She knew why Dumbledore left the task to them. Now. As Harry talked, she looked at the lightning shaped scar in his forehead. Thought about everything she knew about Horcruxes from her research. There was an answer. It was theoretically possible even if it was supremely unlikely. The alternative was worse.
As the group waxed philosophical over the possible objects, she knew her continuing silence would only work against their goals. "There's a seventh Horcrux," she interrupted. All eyes were back on her.
"Why do you think that?" Remus asked. "If you know of an object that isn't a founder's object, maybe he couldn't find an ideal vessel and time ran out."
"Because he doesn't know it exists. He made it by mistake." She could tell the group of men were trying to catch up to her thoughts. There was a mix of disbelief and confusion. "The night his first body was killed. He made a Horcrux when he killed Lily. It wasn't intentional."
"What's the Horcrux?" Harry asked, his eyes studying her intensely.
Did he already suspect, she wondered. Or was she about to destroy his world? "Not what, who."
The ripple of understanding roiled around the room, each person coming to the conclusion at different times. It would have been comical if it hadn't been such a serious matter. Harry got there first. She saw it.
"I'm a Horcrux," he stated calmly. It wasn't a question, it was resignation.
Hermione kept her focus on him. Everyone else faded into the background. The revelation said out loud made it real. Tears pricked at her eyes. She felt like she had stabbed him. There was more discussion around them, she didn't listen until the only question that mattered was asked.
"How do we save Harry?" Ron asked.
At that, she finally had an answer. Sitting back, her chin went up. "We make You-Know-Who regret killing Lily."