Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: All Nights, Chapter 12

Author: Goldy

Disclaimer: Same as ever-not mine, never will be mine. I just like to play with them in a free, non-profit, non-sueable manner.

Summary: Hermione struggles to understand Harry's feelings for Ginny, tragedy again strikes the Weasleys, Ron begins to get a clue, and the trio goes off Horcrux Hunting.

Word Count: 5, 983

A/N: Thanks for the continued support/feedback on this story. This is the longest chapter I've written yet. While it's heavy on plot, this is, primarily, an H/Hr post-HBP fic. It all comes back to them in the end, no matter how much angst I may put them through in coming chapters.

Hermione busied herself making toast while Harry sat at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of tea.

"I was thinking about what you said, about all the Horcruxes being connected," Harry explained. "So what's he got? The cup that belonged to Hufflepuff, Slytherin's locket, his diary-"

"Something of Ravenclaw's, then," Hermione said as her toast popped up. "A complete set."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Only, he never got his hands on Gryffindor's dagger, did he? So it's all a moot point now."

Hermione turned around. "So if it's not something of Ravenclaw's, then what is it??"

"It's something at Hogwarts, something that means something to him-something that oughtn't be there, but has stayed for decades, even after it stopped having meaning."

Hermione spread a thin layer of jam on her toast. "If you know what it is, tell me, will you?"

"'Hogwarts,'" Harry said, a smug smile on his face, "'would like to thank you for your outstanding services to the school.'"

Hermione dropped her fork. "You don't think…"

"Yeah, I do," Harry said. "Think about it, Hermione. He got a prize for creating a Basilisk, for murdering a Muggle-born girl-and why is it still there? Even after the charges on Hagrid were dropped, after Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort, it is still there." Harry let that sink in. "I couldn't get at it-I reckon it's like the other Horcruxes, full of enchantments and whatnot. Shame Malfoy is gone, we could've sent him in first."

"That's not funny," Hermione snapped.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, it wasn't. I'm sorry."

"That's alright," she said.

"So what do you think?"

Hermione shoved a piece of toast in her mouth. Finally, she swallowed and drummed her fingers on the countertop.

"Do you still have feelings for Ginny?"

Harry choked on his tea. She waited for him to settle before narrowing her eyes.

"Well, do you?"

"What?" Harry said hoarsely. "How can you ask me that?"

"Honestly, I did see you at the hospital-I don't know why you're so surprised."

Harry studied her. "No," he finally said.

She raised her eyebrows. "No?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to say, Hermione?" he said, exasperated. "From the way you're acting, it's like you want me to admit I love her and not you!"

"Of course not!" Hermione said. "It's not your feelings for me I'm questioning, it's…." She trailed off and sat down across from him. "Do you want to hear what I think?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She ignored him. "Ginny," she said. "Was part of a life you wished you had. When the pair of you were together, nothing else mattered. That's why you had to leave her. If you left her behind, you wouldn't only protect her, you'd protect the happiness you found with her. She's not a part of this life. She's above that. That's why it is unacceptable that Death Eaters attacked her."

"Just what is your point, Hermione?"

"My point is that you still want that! This image of her that you've built-this perfect, protected image! It's not real, you know it's not real, but you still want it, because it made you happy!" Hermione took a breath. "You're still hoping that one day, after you win this war, she'll be there. She'll still be waiting for you."

Harry's jaw clenched. "Is that what you really think?"

They stared at each other.

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

Harry's chair scraped along the floor as he stood up. He braced his hands on the table and met her eyes. "You're wrong." Grabbing his mug, he turned and left the kitchen.

Somehow, his silence was more oppressive than when he yelled at her.

***

An hour later, Hermione paced nervously in front of Harry's bedroom door.

"Well, honestly, it is only natural that I'm threatened by her-she is Ginny Weasley after all! No one can do a Bat Bogey Hex like her!" Hermione stopped and scowled. "I can conjure a fearsome set of canaries, you know! Now that is a tough bit of magic. Bat Bogey Hexes are rather elemental, once you get right down to it!"

Hermione rubbed at her eyes. "Oh, heaven's, this is simply ridiculous! What am I doing? There are far more important things at stake! If I could just-just focus-on what's ahead! That's what I ought to be doing. None of this other nonsense!"

Hermione raised her hand to knock on Harry's door when it swung open. She gave a squeak of surprise, her fist still hanging in the air. Harry smirked and leaned against the doorjamb.

"I never thought that Bat Bogey Hexes were particularly sexy, you know," he said, grinning. "Though I was rather impressed that time she flew her broom straight into Zacharias Smith, the arsehole."

"Harry!" she said. "You were listening?"

"Bit hard not to, actually."

Hermione's cheeks were warm. "Oh, how mortifying."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Harry said. "Listen, I… come in for a sec, will you?"

Hermione wrung her hands together. "Alright."

She stepped past him, her senses overly aware of him shutting the door behind her. The covers on his bed were twisted and thrown about, but the rest of his room was neat and tidy. No doubt a product of living with the Dursleys for so long. I'm certain Ron isn't this neat…

Harry leaned back against the door, frowning. "Hermione, what do I need to do to get us past this?"

"Past what?" she said.

His mouth tightened and, for a moment, she thought he was going to storm away again. But determination flared to life in his eyes and he took a step towards her, blocking her path to the door.

"Ask me again," he said coolly. "Ask me if I still have feelings for Ginny."

"Alright," she said. She took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest. "Do you still have feelings for Ginny?"

His voice was gentle when he asked, "What do you want to hear?"

"The truth."

"Okay, I…." He took a few tentative steps towards her and placed his hands on her arms. She had to tilt her head backwards to see his face. "I love you."

She nodded and leaned against him, hooking her arms around his waist. She felt his cheek rest against the top of his head.

"I'd be lying if I said I never think about her-or if the attack on her didn't hack me off. You got some of it right, what you said downstairs. I reckon you know which parts I mean."

Hermione listened to his heart beat against his ear and waited in silence.

"But this? What we have? It's like the end in a way, you know? It's not a dream, Hermione. It doesn't always make me happy-in fact, you make me right angry from time to time. But that's all part of it. This-it's… it."

He didn't explain any more, but his lips brushed against her forehead.

They stood quietly, their arms around each other. Hermione let her eyes drift close. He was so warm and safe and he smelled exactly like he always did-like dirt and soap and pumpkin juice.

Finally, she pulled away, shooting him an apologetic smile as she did so. "I have something to show you."

"Er… okay."

Puzzled, Harry followed her out of the room and down the hall. Hermione pushed her own bedroom door open, squinting at the sunlight pouring in. Crookshanks sat perched on her pillow and gave a delicate little yawn as she entered.

Harry sat down on the edge of her bed. "What is it?"

"Hang on," Hermione said. She went to her dresser and yanked open the top drawer, pushing her brassieres and knickers out of the way.

"Erm, Hermione-"

"Oh, hush up," she snapped.

"Sorry."

She sniffed and continued her search. "Aha!" she said triumphantly.

She turned around, clutching a golden goblet in her hand. Harry's eyes widened and he sprang up from the bed.

"Is that-"

"Hufflepuff's cup?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "Why, yes, it is."

His jaw dropped. "Hermione, that's-where did you, how did… I don't understand. What's it doing here?"

"Well, after Malfoy came crawling back from the Manor, I decided not to leave him with the cup again." She shrugged. "I switched copies when he wasn't looking. I thought it was royally stupid to take the thing to Hogwarts with us, actually."

Harry gaped at her. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't get a chance," she said. "I didn't want the Order to know what we were up to. Afterwards, you were so angry… and then we, you know…." She held it out to him. "I'm telling you now. That ought to be good enough."

"Yeah," Harry said, turning the cup around in his hands. "Yeah. You're brilliant, Hermione."

She flushed. "It was nothing, really. Malfoy was never much good at Transfiguration, you know. Barely got an A on his O.W.L."

Harry lowered the cup and kissed her. He was beaming when he pulled away.

Hermione returned his smile. "We're doing this, you know."

"Doing what?"

"Fighting him," Hermione said. "One step at a time, Harry. One step at a time."

***

Harry had the most wonderful laugh.

She didn't hear it very often-at least, not recently. And in the past, it seemed like she made him scowl more than laugh. That was what Ron and Ginny and Fred and George were for; making Harry laugh. It was up to her to nag him to study and take care of himself.

"It's really not that hard, you know," Harry said. "It's just an egg."

"Well, it's not hard if you're using magic."

"That's cheating. Here, like this…"

He stood behind her, one hand held over hers as he guided her arm over the frying pan. The egg sizzled and she shrieked, causing Harry to dissolve into another fit of laughter. Next to the stove a plate was piled high with eggs she had burned.

"Oh, this is so hard!" she said. "Why would anyone insist on turning such a thing over? What good does it do if the yolk is runny?"

One of Harry's hands settled on her hip and Hermione screwed up her face, willing her mind to concentrate.

"Well, really, Hermione. It's a wonder you're rubbish at this stuff, you were so good when it came to potions…"

"Oh, really? I don't recall having a Prince book to help myself out!"

She knew he was rolling his eyes. He pressed up against her and she clenched her teeth together.

"Culinary skills are important," he said, his mouth next to her ear.

"Oh… um… are they?"

"Yeah, sure they are." One hand slipped under her shirt, his fingers moving back and forth over her stomach. "I mean, it brings people together, doesn't it? Preparing a big meal in the kitchen…"

"Oh… yes, certainly…" she said, her voice a high-pitched squeaky noise. "I've read about it…"

He turned her around so her back was against the oven. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She sighed into his mouth, enjoying the lazy pace of the kiss. One of his hands entangled in her hair, his fingers shifting between her strands.

From somewhere behind her, there was a loud pop. Hermione pulled away with a gasp and hastily turned back to the stove.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," she moaned. "That's the fourth one in a row!"

Harry burst into laughter again. She frowned at him and shut off the heat. A loud cloud of smoke hovered above the frying pan.

"I'll never be able to do this," she said mournfully. How she hated failure.

"Come on, Hermione." Harry grinned. "That time, it was hardly your fault."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Smug git."

"Well… yeah…"

Harry shrugged and joined her at the stovetop. He cast a skeptical glance at the pile of eggs. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Honestly!" she said. "One can't always be good at everything! It's simply impossible!"

Harry gave her a strange look.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "It's just… well, I think this is the first time… you've… failed-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Harry!" she said shrilly.

His mouth twitched. "Alright, but-"

Harry never got a chance to finish his sentence. There was a loud bang, a burst of dust, and then a muffled swear coming from the fireplace.

Floo powder, she thought, just as Tonks's spiky head appeared. Right behind her was Professor Lupin. Hermione felt her stomach sink. They both looked grim-as usual.

Harry's face was pale as he stepped over to them. Forgoing a proper greeting, he said, "What's happened?"

His voice was tired, resigned almost, and Hermione suddenly wished it was five minutes ago, when they were giggling over nonsense and flirting like normal teenagers.

"It's alright, Harry," Tonks said. "The Weasleys are fine, they've all recovered well, given the circumstances. Poor Arthur's still bedridden, but Molly'll have him up again in no time at all, you'll see…"

Harry's eyes shifted back and forth, from Tonks to Lupin. "Something's happened. What is it?"

"The Burrow's been burned to the ground," Lupin said heavily.

Hermione gasped. "Oh, no…"

"None of them were there are the time, of course," Lupin said hastily. "But it is a terrible blow… that poor family…"

Harry clenched his jaw. "Weren't there protections around the house? I thought it was safe."

"Harry," Hermione said. "Think about what you're saying… it's Voldemort… there's nothing-no one is safe anymore…"

Agitated, Harry began pacing. She could understand his frustration. The Burrow-one of his favourite places in the world, the only house where he'd felt part of a family…

Harry stopped and turned back to Lupin and Tonks. "Where will they live?"

"St. Mungo's has agreed to host them for now, as long as Arthur's still in their care." Tonks gave a small smile. "He's become quite respected at the Ministry."

"And after that?"

"I daresay they'll rebuild," Lupin said. "Molly's seeing to it-the twins have already agreed to finance most of it. But with such uncertain times, who knows? It could be years."

Harry nodded. Hermione could see he had expected as much. He met her eyes, his gaze questioning, and she gave a small smile. Yes, she said silently-though it pained her to do so.

Harry cleared his throat. "They'll stay here, of course," he said. "There's plenty of room. They can stay until the Burrow is rebuilt-longer, if they need to."

Lupin gave a thin smile. "I'm sure they'll all be terribly relieved by the invitation, Harry."

"Yeah, no problem," Harry said. "I reckon it'll be nice to have some more life in this gloomy place, anyway."

Harry didn't look particularly happy about it, but Tonks beamed at him.

"There's a fiery red-head who'll be glad to hear you say so," she said, winking.

Harry flushed. "Er… yeah, how is she doing?"

"Damned brilliant," Tonks said. "She's already making death threats-that girl'll make one dangerous opponent one day."

Harry gave a weak laugh. "They'll stay at the hospital for a little while longer, right? So we'll have time to… er… clean up?"

"Clean up?" Lupin said, glancing around the near-spotless kitchen. Amused, he fixed Harry with a stare. "Certainly. Would you like me to tell Ron he should join you to help clean up?"

Harry flushed. "That would be great. Thanks."

After Lupin and Tonks flooed out, Harry turned back to her, eyes hesitant. "Now, before you say anything…"

"I have no idea what you mean," she said, cracking an egg against the frying pan. "That was a decent thing you did, offering up your home to the Weasleys."

"It was?"

"Well, I think so," Hermione said. "Goodness, it would have been quite rude if you had kicked them out to the curb after all those times you stayed with them."

"Er… yeah, of course. I mean, you're right, but…" she heard him swallow. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Of what?" she said airily.

Harry sighed and came to stand next to her. "Of Ginny-living here, in this house, with me."

"Perhaps a little bit," she said honestly. "But if you tell me I shouldn't be, I'll believe you."

He rested one hand on her back. "You shouldn't be."

"Alright," she murmured.

***

"Blimey," Ron said. "I can't believe my entire family is going to be staying here! That's mad, that is! What were you thinking, mate? Do you have any idea what Mum'll say when she learns we're tramping about after pieces of You-Know-Who's SOUL?"

Ron looked malnourished, exhausted, and disheveled, but otherwise healthy. His spirits seemed the same as ever, despite having spent so many days in the hospital with the other Weasleys. When they'd offered to take care of things themselves, he'd waved them off, claiming there were plenty of other "red-headed snots" standing beside his father's bedside. "I want in," he'd said.

He'd taken the news of Malfoy's death remarkably well, though Hermione attributed that to the deep-seated hatred between the two of them.

"Actually, I do," Harry said. "Which is why we're going to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes before they get here."

Even Hermione was taken aback. "You're not serious," she said. "Us? Destroy the rest of the Horcruxes? In only a few days?"

Ron's mouth fell open. "Bloody hell," he whispered hoarsely.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. We have one already, don't we? All we have to do is get rid of this stupid cup and the trophy at Hogwarts and we're all set."

"All SET?" Ron repeated in a strangled voice. "You are off your rocker."

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "No, Ron. He's not. If we get them done now… well, then, there's nothing holding us back. We won't get at Nagini until we face Voldemort himself. It's best to do it now, when we have a firm time limit-that way we can get it over with."

"Exactly," Harry said.

Ron's head snapped back and forth between them. "Mental, the both of you." He grinned and shrugged. "Alright, then. What's the plan?"

"Er, a plan?" Harry said. "Was there supposed to be a plan?"

"When you come up with an idea like that," Ron said. "Yeah, there ought to be a plan!"

Harry seemed rather cheerful, all things considered. "Well, it doesn't much matter. We've been going at this whole thing blind, haven't we? Let's hope our luck holds. I'll see you two in the morning. Best to get an early start, eh?"

***

When he said early, I never thought he'd mean it…

Hermione sipped down a second cup of coffee, wincing as it burned her throat. Ron rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn. Near the stove, Harry flipped an egg with one hand and downed a glass of orange juice with the other.

"Show off," she muttered.

He turned to give her a cheeky grin. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to try?"

Ron frowned. "What are you two on about?"

"Hermione can't cook," Harry said.

Hermione waved a hand. "Honestly, I can cook just fine."

He dumped a couple of eggs onto each of their plates. "We had a lesson yesterday," he told Ron. "She's right terrible."

Ron stared at his eggs for a moment before whipping his head up. "You what? Had a cooking lesson?"

Hermione hurriedly took another sip of coffee. Harry shrugged. "Yeah, so what if we did?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "The pair of you? Together?"

"That's how lessons are often done, yeah," Harry said, digging into his eggs. "That a problem?"

Harry's fork paused in midair and he met Ron's challenging stare with his own.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well!" she said. "Remember-early day, Horcruxes to destroy…"

They ignored her.

"Not a problem, no," Ron said. "Gin always said you were quite the teacher."

"Did she?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "She still talks about you all the time, Harry. Dunno why that should be such a surprise."

"She'll move on," Harry said tersely.

"S'not that easy, you know, when you've spent your life waiting around for someone-"

"Well, then, you should make a move, shouldn't you? They're bound to get tired of waiting if you dally for too long!"

Ron let out a small growl and turned back to his meal. He shoved food into his mouth with rather more vehemence than usual. Harry watched him for a moment before going back to his own meal..

***

"What was that?" Hermione demanded as she burst into Harry's room without knocking. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, rifling through a dark arts book as he drew a comb absentmindedly through his hair.

"Pardon me?" he said, eyes still on the book.

"Oh, don't give me that!" Hermione said. "You and Ron at breakfast!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Hermione. Are you nearly ready to go? We ought to be off soon."

She took two steps towards him and wrenched the book from his grasp. "I'm not stupid," she hissed.

"I-hey! That was useful, you know! We might be able to use it later on."

"You were both…" Hermione cast her mind about for the right words. "Well, you both seemed rather…"

"Possessive?" Harry offered off-handedly, reaching for the book.

She took a step backwards and frowned at him. He sighed and withdrew his hand.

"What?"

"Oh, honestly," she muttered. "Harry, don't you see? Ron's always been jealous of you! How do you suppose he'll react when he finds out about you and me?"

"Well, I daresay he'd better get used to it right quick, because I'm certainly not going to give you up to spare his feelings." Harry jumped up and plucked the book out of her hands before she could stop him. "There's a spell in here-bit like Destructo, but darker."

"That's one of Malfoy's books," she said.

"Yeah, well, we've tapped our sources dry, haven't we? Time to try something else."

"Oh, Harry, I don't know." She wrung her hands nervously. "Using dark magic… well, don't you think that's… taking things a bit too far?"

"I reckon it's the only thing that'll work. I mean, these are dark objects, aren't they? What else will do it?"

Hermione thought quickly. "I… uh… love?"

"So, what, you want us to snog in front of his stupid trophy? Sorry, I don't think that'll work."

"Harry, wait-" she grabbed his arm as he was leaving the room. "About Ron…"

He heaved a sigh and turned to look at her. "Hermione, this really isn't-"

"Sod that!" she said tearfully, shaking his arm. "I deserve an explanation if the pair of you are going to go at each other's throats over me!"

"Fine," Harry said, resigned. He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Listen, there's loads of history between you and Ron. I get that. I was there for it-I saw what you two put each other through." He gave a strained smile. "Ron hates it when other blokes pay attention to you. I hate that some part of you still cares for him. It's not that we're angry with each other, not really. We just don't like when others piss on our territory." He thought for a moment and winced. "Sorry for that last part."

"Oh… well… that's okay," she said, after thinking it over. Piss on our territory. Blimey.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" he leaned forward and gave her an awkward kiss on the tip of her nose. "Think about how to get us out of the next few hours alive."

She followed him out of the bedroom and down the stairs. "You'll have to it, Harry," she said, her voice breathy as she rushed to keep up with him. "They don't seem to affect you the same they affect everyone else."

"What doesn't affect us?" Ron said, joining them.

"The Horcruxes," she said. "They don't affect Harry."

"They do so," Harry said grumpily.

"Not really," Hermione said.

"Well, he is the Chosen One, isn't he?"

"Don't call me that. It's such rubbish."

"Come off it, Harry. You're special."

"He's right, you know, Harry. Perhaps you could melt it with your eyeballs."

"My eyeballs? You're joking, right?"

The three of them continued bickering as they Apparated into Hogsmeade. Ron took a great gasp of air when they arrived, his grin wide.

"Merlin, I love it when winter's just beginning to close in. Smell great, doesn't it? What d'you reckon, two more weeks 'till it snows?"

"Goodness, I hope not," Hermione muttered, brushing by them.

Harry and Ron grabbed her by the elbows and hauled her back, much to her annoyance. "I'm perfectly capable of going on my own, thank you!"

Instead of answering her, Harry threw his invisibility cloak over the three of them. Ron dropped her arm, but Harry tightened his grip. The three of them shuffled forward, careful not to let the cloak drift above their shoes.

They made the trip to Hogwarts in silence. Hogsmeade was eerily empty. It had been that way ever since the attack on Hogwarts. Even the Three Broomsticks had shut down. Madam Rosmerta had gone back home to stay with her parents.

Hermione couldn't help her small whine of frustration. "How I hate what this war has done to our world!" she whispered fervently.

Neither Ron nor Harry gave her an answer. They didn't have to. She knew they were thinking the same thing.

"I've got an idea," Harry said as they entered Hogwarts' grounds. Ron and Hermione stumbled after him as he led them to Hagrid's hut.

Harry pounded on Hagrid's door, grinning when Fang started barking. The door flew open and Hermione let out a loud gasp. Hagrid was clinging to a large, spiky bat and he shook it warningly in front of him.

Harry took a startled step backwards, flinging out an arm in front of her. Hermione rolled her eyes and dragged the invisibility cloak off them. Hagrid stared for a few seconds, the bat still held high in front of him.

"It's just us, Hagrid," she said. "Honestly, put that thing down…"

Ron glanced at Harry's arm protectively thrown across her torso and shot Harry a dirty look. Harry ignored him. "Hagrid, look, we need your help," he said. "Really, I don't think there's any need for-"

"And jus' how am I supposed to know if it's yeh three?" Hagrid said, taking a menacing step closer.

"Hagrid, please!" Hermione said. "Who else would come to your door wearing an invisibility cloak?"

Hagrid paused. "What're yeh up to?"

Harry began to relax. "We've got to-Hagrid, listen, remember that trophy they gave to Tom Riddle?"

Hagrid's eyes narrowed. "Interested in that, eh? That's what yeh're after, is it?"

"No, Hagrid, we want to destroy it!" Hermione said, gripping Harry's arm tightly. "We thought you could help us!"

"Aragog!" Ron blurted.

Harry and Hermione turned to look at him. "What?" they said in unison.

Ron pushed his way between them. "Hagrid, how could we know about Aragog if we were Death Eaters? Who else could know you kept him in the forest for years?"

Hagrid slowly lowered his bat, a strange expression coming over his face. "It really is yeh three."

"Yes," Hermione said, relieved. "Yes, it is, Hagrid-oof."

Hagrid enveloped the three of them in a hug that had Hermione gasping for breath. Harry and Ron hesitatingly patted Hagrid on the shoulder.

"Hagrid, we need your help," Harry rasped out. Ron's face was beginning to turn purple.

Hagrid let go and Hermione staggered sideways, grabbing Ron's arm to hold herself steady. A blush rose in her cheeks when she realized what happened. Unfortunately, Ron puffed out his chest importantly and pulled her closer.

Oh, this can't be good, this can't be good at all…

"Come on," he said. "Stick close. Harry, you'll tell Hagrid what's up, eh?"

Harry looked murderous. Without giving him a chance to answer, Ron dragged her towards the castle, the barest hints of a smirk on his lips.

"Ron!" she snapped, elbowing him in the ribs.

"What?" he said hotly, rubbing his side.

"Stop-let go," she said. "I'm not a helpless child! I can look out for myself."

"So it's alright when Harry does it, then?" he hissed. "I'm your best friend too!"

She paused and he nearly plowed into her from behind. She spun around and fixed him with a stare. "Listen to me very carefully, Ron," she said. "I know what you're thinking and we'll talk about it later, but can we please do what we need to? We must be able to think straight when we go in there! We don't know what will happen-anything could come at us, we have to be prepared, Ron! I won't tolerate any mistakes!"

"Alright, alright!" he said, holding out his hands in a defeated manner. "I was just trying to look out for you, is all!"

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

They stared at each for another minute. Ron cracked a smile. "Hey, don't worry so much. It'll all be okay, Hermione. You'll see."

She shook her head and felt tears well in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if-"

Harry and Hagrid caught up to them and Hermione hurriedly closed her mouth, letting her sentence go unfinished. If I lost you or Harry, she added silently.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder, his gaze on Ron, and Hermione felt a spike of irritation. Oh, honestly…

"Hagrid's going to remove the trophy for us," he said.

Hermione's head snapped around to Hagrid, who blushed and looked rather proud of himself. "Aye, least I can do."

"But…" Hermione sputtered. "How can… I mean, we don't know…"

Ron's eyes widened. "Brilliant," he breathed. "Giants are impervious to most curses!"

That's right, Hermione thought, with a flash of annoyance at her self. Oh, how could I have forgotten that?

Harry gave her a tiny smile and nudged her forward. "Good plan, hmm?" he whispered.

His lips were conspicuously close to her ear. "Stop it," she muttered. "I know what you're doing, Harry, and I want you to know that I don't like it one bit. If you think you and Ron can go ahead and fight over me… well, I won't be a part of it!"

Harry gave her a lazy smile that had her both fighting annoyance and an urge to swoon. His hand crept up to the back of her neck and his thumb moved back and forth. "Okay," he said easily. "But if this is the last time we see each other, I want you to know I love you."

He pulled away and moved on ahead without looking back. Hermione gaped at him and bristled. "You git!" she hissed at his back.

***

Their footsteps echoed through the empty trophy room. Harry went in first, his wand out in front of him. "It's clear," he whispered, edging forward. "And still there."

"It's weird, isn't it?" Ron said.

Hermione frowned. "What is?"

"That he hasn't come back for it," Ron said, shrugging. "I mean, he's bound to suspect what we're doing, isn't he? Why hasn't he come and… I dunno… taken it back?"

The look on Harry's face plainly said he'd already considered that. "I'm not sure, Ron. For all I know, the last Horcrux is a blade of grass in the middle of the Forbidden Forest."

Ron looked ill at the thought. "Yeah, but…"

"Never mind that now," Hermione said. "Let's just… focus on this first."

Hagrid clapped his hands together and the three of them jumped; Hermione had forgotten he was there.

"So what yeh wan' me to do then, Harry?"

Harry approached Tom Riddle's trophy. It was the largest trophy in the room. For a long time, he didn't say anything. Slowly he reached out a hand towards it, letting his palm hover over its shining surface.

"I need you to remove this for me, Hagrid," he said, eyes still on the trophy. "Do you think you can do that?"

"Doesn' seem like it'll be much problem," Hagrid said. "This thin' important to you, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said, turning around. "Yeah, it is."

Hagrid looked at Harry's face and nodded. "Alrigh,' then. Stand back, yeh three."

Harry hesitated. "Hagrid…"

"I said I'd do it, didn' I? Now, stand back, will yeh?"

Instead of answering, Harry moved out of the way, coming to stand between Hermione and Ron.

Hagrid took a deep breath. "Here goes nothin,'" he muttered. Lightening fast, both of his hands shot out and seized the trophy on each side.

At first, nothing happened. Hagrid's hands wrapped around the handles and he heaved. Next to Hermione, Harry flinched.

"Come on," he said. "Come on…"

Hagrid pulled again. Hermione could see the muscles in his arms straining. Unconsciously, she held her breath.

"No way," Ron whispered in awe. "He's got to be able to do it, it's Hagrid, it's-"

The rest of Ron's words were cut-short by a shrill shriek. A burst of light shot out from the center of the trophy. Hagrid gave a great yell when the light burst against his chest. His face contorted and his entire body began shaking, but his fingers were still clamped around the trophy. A scream tore its way out of his throat, louder than the noise coming from the trophy.

Hermione's body broke out in goosebumps. "Hagrid," she cried. She rushed forward, but Harry grabbed her around the waist.

"No, Hermione…"

"Let go!" she said, pushing against him. "Can't you see what this is doing to him-"

Hagrid's scream stopped and he gave a ferocious growl. His body began convulsing, but he strained to pull himself backwards.

"Look at him!" she yelled.

"Ron, stay where you are!" Harry said. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ron stop short.

She struggled against Harry's vice-like grip. "Harry, stop, we have to help him, we have to stop this, we-"

Hagrid's face was turning the colour of ash. His lips were thin and bleeding. His skin stretched, she could see the blues and purples of his veins twisting along his arms and neck.

Hermione's words turned to cries. She couldn't bear to keep watching. She stopped struggling and pressed her face to Harry's chest, feeling her body tremble.

"We can't do anything, Hermione," Harry said, his voice unsteady. "If you touch him, you'll… it'll kill you. He stands a chance."

She bit her lip and shut her eyes, listening to Hagrid's tortured cries behind her. The growls turned to whimpers and the whimpers to small cries of pain.

Hermione stayed where she was, hardly able to breathe. Harry rubbed her back, but she knew he was watching every moment of Hagrid's struggle. Finally there was a loud howl and then silence.

Harry let go of her at once. She turned around. Ron was standing stock still, his face the colour of sour milk. On the floor was the trophy, its still form disguising the pain it had just caused.

Hermione gasped. Next to it lay Hagrid. But he was hardly recognizable-he looked as thought he'd aged a hundred years. His hair was white; his skin patched and dry like old leather, and deep wrinkles had etched themselves into his face.

Harry was on his knees next to him, two fingers pressed to his throat. "He's alive," he said grimly, looking up at her and Ron. "There's a pulse."

"Alive?" Ron croaked. "But he…"

"I guess I was right," Harry said, his smile crooked and humourless. "Turns out, the trophy was a Horcrux after all."

***