A/N - so I'm back. I know this has been done many times before, but I wanted to do my take on book 7. Just a warning, H/Hr will be implied for quite a few chapters before it gets into piles of fluff, I just don't see it happening straight away and I'm going to try desperately to keep to cannon (I am surrounded by my books and other reference material) - so I guess I should warn there will be a bit of H/G and Hr/R action as well (not enough to cause vomiting, I assure you). Oh, and if this proves to be popular and I get the same amount of reviews as my previous story (even I can't spell the title off-hand) then I won't be answering your lovely comments - it just takes too much time and I have this, another story and real life on the go.
So, after that lengthy introduction - let the story begin.
Chapter 1 - Life at Privet Drive
"Potter!"
Harry Potter looked up from the game of chess he was playing and turned to the direction his name had just been bellowed from, his frown of concentration changing into a frown of annoyance.
"Bloody hell," Ron Weasley, his best friend and current chess opponent, grumbled, "what does the great prat want now? Can't he give you a bit of peace for two seconds?"
"I guess I better go," Harry sighed as he stood from his place on the floor and made his way to the door.
"Do you want us to come with you Harry?"
Harry turned and saw his other best friend, Hermione Granger, watching him from the book she was reading. She was sitting on his bed and leaning against its bedhead that had been cushioned by his pillow, looking the most relaxed he had ever seen her.
"Only if you want to," he replied, "I've probably just breathed too loud or something."
"Brilliant," Ron exclaimed happily as he clambered off the floor, "play time with Uncle Vernon."
"Ron!" Hermione admonished as she marked her place in her book and made her way to where they were standing, "we're not meant to rile Mr Dursley up, remember? Getting him angry isn't going to accomplish anything!"
"Except making me feel good," Ron grinned as he followed Harry out of the door, Hermione right behind him; swotting Ron's arm as soon as she was close enough.
It had been just over a week since Harry, Ron and Hermione turned up at number four Privet Drive. After some lengthy shouting matches with his uncle and some clever spell work from Hermione, his friends finally got begrudged permission to shift in - Ron sharing his room while Hermione got the spare room that was usually saved for Aunt Marge. And with Harry still unable to officially do magic out of school, he was enjoying watching his relatives livid faces each time his friends performed one spell or another - especially his uncle, who Ron had made his mission to annoy enormously.
Therefore, it was the three of them making their way down the stairs, Harry first and his two friends one step behind him, all stopping suddenly as their way was blocked by his uncle and aunt putting on their coats.
"What took you so long boy?" Uncle Vernon sneered at Harry.
"No reason," Harry shrugged back, "you off then."
"We're picking Dudley up from Kings Cross," came the reply, "I don't want any funny business from you or your freaky friends while we're gone. And you can start the dinner to be ready for us when we get back."
"We are having roast lamb," Aunt Petunia continued, "you know how Dunnikins likes it. He will be starving, my poor little boy, I'm sure they wouldn't have fed him at that camp!" Dudley had spent the last week at a school camp in the Cotswalds and Harry doubted greatly that his cousin could ever starve.
"And you can put that pile of books that I've stacked up next to the door in Dudley's room into the cupboard under the stairs. He doesn't need that kind of codswallop now he's a man!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said automatically and watched as his uncle and aunt walked out, slamming the door behind them.
"That porker could do with not being fed for a week," Ron chorkled, "he's the size of a house!"
"That is not very nice Ron," Hermione said as she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, "I'll get the books since I'm closest."
Harry didn't answer and instead made his way into the kitchen, Ron right behind him.
"Why does she always correct everything I say?" Ron grumbled as Harry opened the fridge and removed the large leg of lamb that had been defrosting in there, "I mean, Dudley is a porker. I really think she just likes to have a go…"
"You give as good as you get Ron," Harry said, turning on the oven and starting to get the meat ready to roast.
"Yeah, but when I have a go, she deserves it! She has a go just to annoy me."
Harry didn't say anything and instead pretended he was concentrating on what he was doing. The relationship between his two best friends bewildered him. He thought they were finally going to get together when they made up after the whole poison mead incident, and at Dumbledore's funeral they seemed close. But since they had moved in with him, he hadn't seen any indication that their relationship had changed. They still bickered over the smallest of things and it was starting to drive him mad.
With the lamb properly seasoned and dressed and the oven warmed, Harry placed the meat filled roasting tray into the heated chamber, looking up in time to see Hermione walk into the kitchen, flushed and frowning.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, "what's wrong?"
"There is a bed in the cupboard under the stairs," she said, looking directly at him, "and your name is etched into one of the beams in there. Is that where they kept you? Before Hogwarts?"
"Er…"
"You used to sleep in a cupboard? Harry, it has locks on the door!"
"Well, yeah…"
"How long would they lock you in there?"
"No longer than a couple of days…"
"A couple of days!" Hermione began to pace around the kitchen and began muttering to herself, looking quite hysterical. Harry exchanged a worried look with Ron, who just shrugged.
"Hermione, its okay," he tried to soothe, "it wasn't too bad. I was smaller then…"
"Smaller then!" she yelled him, making him take a step back, "Harry, it doesn't matter how small you were. No child should sleep in a cupboard under the stairs! How dare they! Those horrid, horrid people!"
"I've told you they did stuff like that…"
"But…well, I know," she said, sagging slightly and sounding more like herself, "oh Harry, how did you stand it?"
"I guess I didn't know any different," he replied nonchalantly as he took out some potatoes to start to peel, working on autopilot as he had done this chore so many times before - not seeing Hermione's eyes fill with tears as she watched him or see her angrily blink them away.
"For goodness sake," she huffed after a few moments, drawing out her wand, "let me do that. I will not let you lift another finger for these foul creatures!"
Keeping to her word, Hermione supervised the preparation of the evening meal so that by the time the Dursleys had arrived home, dinner was indeed cooked - but not by Harry. He and Ron had continued their game of chess on the dinning room table, moving only when Hermione had ordered Ron to set the dinner placings.
The subsequent meal was in interesting affair. Hermione had tried hard all week to get polite conversation from Harry's aunt and uncle, often chatting away even when she had no response - Harry thought her stony silence over the dinner table was, in a way, a welcome relief.
Meanwhile, the newly returned Dudley Dursley seemed quite flummoxed that there was a girl his age living in his house - Harry caught him more than once casting Hermione a look that could only be described as a leer. And when Dudley hung around the kitchen while the trio did the dishes before heading upstairs, Harry was more than a little concerned.
"Something wrong Duders?" he asked as his cousin followed them and began to enter Harry's room.
"Nothing I would share with you Pothead," was the snarled reply.
"Don't talk to Harry like that," Hermione snapped, turning on the man who was at least twice her size. Dudley's transformation was immediate as he seemed to shrink down and look contrite, blushing furiously as he looked at Hermione.
"Sorry," he said in a voice Harry had never heard him use before, "ah, I'll just, um, leave you to it then." And with a turn, he was gone.
Ron had already entered Harry's bedroom with Hermione soon following, leaving a confused Harry in the hall until he registered in his brain what had just happened and went into his room, shutting the door behind him.
"What was all that about?" Ron asked, dropping down onto the bunk that was his bed.
"I think Dudley fancies Hermione…"
"What!" Ron exclaimed, immediately standing, looking ready to storm out and pound Dudley into a pulp.
"For goodness sake Ronald," Hermione said as she pushed Ron back down so he sat rather heavily on his bed, "do you have to act so Neanderthal every time some bloke glances in my direction?"
"Be careful of him though Hermione," Harry warned, making his way to his own bed, "he usually gets what he wants."
"I can look after myself," Hermione replied, retrieving her book and making her way back to where she had been sitting earlier on, "especially against a great oaf like Cousin Dudley."
Harry found himself believing her, giving her a small smile as he set up the chess set once more, determined to beat Ron at least once at the stupid game.
"Still, I think you should start locking your door," he continued as Ron once again sat down opposite him and made his first move.
When Hermione didn't reply, Harry looked up at her and saw the look that usually meant she was wanting to say something that she knew he didn't particularly want to hear - he had seen that look enough during their fifth year to be able to recognise it.
"What is it Hermione?" he asked, "come on, spill."
"Well, I've been thinking…" she started hesitantly.
"Oh no, there's trouble just there…" Ron mumbled under his breath - Harry had to fight back a laugh.
"Thanks for your vote of confidence Ron," Hermione replied with a weariness of someone who had gone through this type of exchange often - which of course, she had, "anyway, I've been thinking - we need to find Horcruxes and we need to know how to destroy them and, well, I've looked right through Hogwarts library after you told me about them Harry. And I think Professor Dumbledore told you everything he knew about them before he died…" she paused, giving Harry time to fight back the mixture and pain and anger that he felt every time his old headmaster's name was mentioned - he could feel Hermione was doing the same. After a moment she continued, "…but there may be somewhere that could help."
"Where?" Harry asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
"Grimmauld Place."
"I…I don't want to go back there…"
"I know Harry, but think about it," she put her book down and made her way to the now unforgotten chess game, ignoring Ron as she concentrated on Harry, "the Blacks were dark wizards and they have quite a substantial library. There may be books there that wouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts, which may tell us something about…"
"Horcruxes," Harry finished for her.
She was right, as she so often is, and Harry realised that he was going to have to go back to Sirius's home, his home now (at least technically). He didn't say anything as he battled with himself, Ron and Hermione waiting patiently for his response. When he finally couldn't come up with a logical reason not to go back other than he didn't want to, he nodded.
"I have to go to The Burrow tomorrow, stupid wedding business," Ron grumbled, "Charlie's coming to pick me up at ten…"
"Do you want us to wait for you Ron?" Harry asked, knowing that Hermione would want to go there as soon as possible but he would prefer to have both of them with him when he went back.
"No, I guess not," Ron replied, "Hermione's dying to look at a bunch of new books and you guys are better at the research stuff than me. I'll just come by later."
Seemingly settled, Hermione gave a small smile before returning to her book while Ron went back to the chess game. Harry, knowing that he had no choice and that he needed to get used to the idea that Grimmauld Place might have a big part to play in the quest for the Horcruxes, also turned his attention to the chess board in front of him and made his first move in a game that he was bound to lose.
Later that night, as Harry lay in his bed attempting to ignore the snores from Ron and to find some sleep himself, he tried stop his mind whirling around with a multitude of different thoughts. Going back to Sirius's home was going to remind him so much of his godfather, but somehow that didn't seem as bad as it did last year. Sadly, Harry knew why. This year a bigger loss has over shadowed Sirius, and it was the thought of Dumbledore that was haunting him now. The last moments at the tower played over and over in his brain, mixing with the horror of the potion and Dumbledore's pleas in the cave. All for nothing.
Harry rolled over so his back faced Ron, hoping that would make the noise less, well, noisy - but it didn't. Breathing deeply, he just stared out into the darkness and waited for sleep to finally claim him.
By ten-thirty the next morning Harry and Hermione were standing outside 12 Grimmauld Place, its dark and dreary walls as uninviting as ever. Charlie had Apparated Harry there before taking Ron to The Burrow (both not able to themselves) while Hermione made it on her own. Harry couldn't quite make himself go any further - the memories of Snape egging Sirius on and the treachery of Kreacher rooted him to the spot.
"Come on Harry," Hermione said softly, taking his hand and leading him to the front door as if she knew he couldn't do it on his own.
Inside was just as gloomy as the outside yet there was a more lived in feeling that wasn't there the last time he had visited. He guessed the Order had continued to use the house as their headquarters, as Harry had given permission to do when Dumbledore took him away from the Dursley's the previous year - the thought made him wonder if the Order still existed now that their leader had been killed. He supposed so, but really didn't want to think about it any further.
"I guess we should see if there is anyone else here," Hermione said in a whisper, aware of the curtained portrait on the landing.
"You go," Harry stuttered, "I'll…I'll just wait here." He felt Hermione squeeze is hand comfortingly with the hand that he didn't know he was still holding before giving him a small smile and making her way to look in the kitchen and dinning room.
Harry just stood there feeling stupid that he was letting this house make him feel the way he did, berating himself so that when Hermione rejoined him at the entrance way, he made himself join her as they went up to the next levels to check out the other rooms. It seemed the house was deserted, so they finally made their way to the library that lay opposite the drawing room on the second floor.
Hermione's description that the Black family library was substantial didn't seem to cover the number of books shelved floor to ceiling in the large room. The sheer volume made it seem quite oppressive - even the large desk facing the only dirt-encrusted window was uninviting. Harry hadn't been in there before but it was obvious that Hermione had as she seemed unaffected by its horridness.
"I briefly looked at the titles when we stayed here before," she said briskly, walking over to the first shelf, "there are books that cover dark magic generally; these may have a bit more information of Horcruxes than the books in Hogwarts. And Harry," she turned to him looking very serious, "be careful. Some of these books have protection spells that can be quite dangerous."
"So, how do I know which ones are dangerous and which ones aren't?" he asked.
"Just be very cautious when you open every book and stick to books that look like they could help us," she continued, returning her gaze to in front of her, "you and Ron have a habit of researching things that looks interesting not necessarily what is required. In this library, that may just kill you."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Harry made his way over to where she was standing and glanced up at the seemingly never ending shelves packed with books.
"There must be thousands in here," he groaned, "how are we going to find anything out of all of this!"
"I think most are useless," Hermione said, pulling out one from her right, "how 'bout I select some, hand them to you and then we go into the drawing room over the hallway and look through them…"
"You don't want to do that here?" Harry asked curiously.
"No," she replied, "this room gives me the creeps."
Harry had to agree with her and felt a lot calmer when they sat down in the drawing room with a pile of books scattered around them. With a resigned sigh, he slowly opened the first book, glad to see nothing seemed to want to attack him, and began skimming through the crusty pages for any sign of the word Horcruxes - there was a lot on various gruesome, disgusting subjects but he closed the book with nothing worthwhile and reached for the next volume.
The couple worked in silence, every now and then the sound of Hermione's quill against parchment causing Harry to look up from whatever horrible fact he was reading about, but she continued to be engrossed in her own study. They returned to the library a couple of times and Harry was happy to see they had made their way two thirds up the first section of shelving.
Harry had just opened a large tome entitled '101 Ways to Win in Battle' when he heard a sound from outside the room. His head snapped up and he noticed Hermione do the same. Silently, they placed their books down and stood wands at the ready. Harry's heart began pounding although he knew it could be a member of the Order or…
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as the door opened and the familiar face poked in, "you gave us a fright!"
"Well, I couldn't call out," he replied coming into the room, "that stupid old bat is still hanging in the hallway. I have just had three hours being bossed around, I really didn't want to get hit with a bunch of insults the moment I stepped into this place which, I must say, is just as cheery as ever."
"Things still pretty stressed at The Burrow then," Harry asked, putting his wand away and dropping back down to the floor to continue to look at his book.
"Yeah, you could say that," Ron answered, handing him a roughly wrapped package, "mum thought you might be hungry. You too Hermione."
All thoughts of reading were discarded as Harry and Hermione began to devour Mrs Weasley's corned beef sandwiches - Harry hadn't realised just how hungry he was until he smelt food.
"I can't believe the wedding is on Saturday," Hermione said between mouthfuls.
"I can and I can't wait for it to be over," Ron muttered as he wandered over to the tapestry showing the Black family tree, looking at it absently.
"I'm kind of looking forward to it," Hermione continued, "it will be good to see…"
"Harry, you better look at this," Ron interrupted with an urgency in his voice that made Harry quickly get off the floor and walk over to where Ron stood, Hermione right behind him.
"What?" Harry asked, peering at where Ron was pointing - the part of the family tree that consisted of Sirius and his family.
"Sirius's brother," Ron said as if trying to contain his excitement, "Regulus. Regulus Black. R. B. What if his middle initial is an A?"
"He was a Death Eater and was killed after betraying Voldemort," Harry thought out loud, "it does fit…"
"Oh no…" Hermione interrupted and both boys turned to her as she went deathly pale, "it can't be!"
"What?" Ron asked.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry said at the same time but instead of answering, Hermione rushed over to the cabinet that they had spent ages cleaning out in their fifth year, frantically looking inside its glass sections.
"What is it?" Harry asked again, this time with more urgency as he followed her, "Hermione, what are you looking for?"
"How could I be so stupid!" she said in response, not really noticing Harry as she made her way to the other cabinet, "we spent ages trying to open it - how could I not remember?"
"Remember what Hermione!" Harry yelled before grabbing her arm and making her stop, "tell me what's going on!"
"The locket Harry, the locket," she replied, "remember? When we were clearing out these cabinets there was a locket that we couldn't open! Ron's right, Regulus fits the RAB tag and what if he hid the Horcrux here? In this house!"
Harry stared at her in stunned silence - could it really be that simple? Ron seemed to be similarly stunned as he, too, was lost for words. But it was for a different reason.
"You think I'm right?" he questioned the flustered Hermione, "you really think I'm right? Did you hear that Harry, Hermione said I was right!"
"Of course I did Ron," Hermione said haughtily as she removed her arm from Harry's grasp, "but we have more important things to think about right now! We obviously put it in the rubbish…"
"What happens to wizarding rubbish then?" Harry asked as he followed Hermione out the door.
"I…I don't know," Hermione replied, frowning as she stopped at the top of the stairs not liking the fact that she didn't know something.
"Mum will know," Ron said, passing by her on the stairs, "I'll Floo her and ask what happened to all the muck we got rid of."
"Kreacher," Harry suddenly remembered making the other two look at him, "he was taking stuff and hiding it. Perhaps he took the locket?"
"We can check in the boiler room," Hermione said, once more efficient and business like as all three continued down the stairs, staying quiet until they were well away from Mrs Black's sleeping portrait before carrying on speaking, "that's where he kept all his other treasures."
"And you can ask him Harry," Ron put in, "he's yours now and if you ask, he has to tell you where he's hidden it."
Harry nodded as they reached the kitchen, hoping that it didn't need to come to him dealing with his house-elf. He and Hermione carried on to the small boiler room that Kreacher had made his home while Ron stayed to talk to his mother, kneeling down and putting his head into the green flames that glowed in the hearth.
Kreacher's lair looked deserted, making Harry think that the creature not only worked but now also slept at Hogwarts, though many of his treasures remained in the tiny hideout. Cautiously Harry and Hermione searched the space but found no sign of the locket. When they got back to the kitchen, Ron was just standing up from the fireplace.
"Well, it seems they put all the rubbish bags in the cellar because the items were too magical to just throw away," he said a bit begrudgingly knowing what was coming next.
"I guess we better head towards the cellar then," Harry said, confirming Ron's fears. Hesitantly, the three made their way to the bowels of Grimmauld Place, lighting their way with one of Hermione's portable, waterproof fires which also gave them some measure of heat in the damp, dreary chamber. They soon saw the bags of discarded rubbish and with an unspoken understanding, they each took a bag to scrutinize.
"Remember to be careful," Hermione reminded them, "some of this stuff was pretty dangerous."
"Great," grunted Ron, "just spent the morning be ordered around by Phlegm and mum and now I'm sitting in the dark looking through bags of rubbish which may want to kill me."
"Not one of your better days then," Harry laughed trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to break the sombre mood before gently tipping the contents of his bag onto the floor. Ron and Hermione did the same and in silence, the trio picked their way through the small mountain of rubbish.
Harry was giving up hope that what they were looking for was actually there while his stomach told him that it was probably late and that the Dursley's were going to be extremely pissed off they had missed dinner. He was just about to tell Ron and Hermione to leave it for the night, when Hermione spoke in a scared, strangled voice.
"Harry," was all she said.
Quickly he was by her side, Ron also clambering over to where she had set herself up. There, amongst broken Black family dinnerware, sat a thickly set golden locket, dull and unassuming. They sat looking at it for a while as if memorised, but Harry wanted to see the reason that Dumbledore died - tentatively he reached out and pulled the locket out of the debris. Ron and Hermione didn't speak as he turned it over in his hands, inspecting the chunky, ugly piece of jewellery and finally seeing the mark of Slytherin on its surface confirming that it was indeed the Horcrux they had been searching for.
Harry just kept staring at it, thinking over and over again that because of this…thing, Dumbledore was no longer at his side to help him, to be there for him, to laugh with him…He felt a stinging in his eyes and began to blink rapidly to stop any of the tears that he knew was threatening to fall - not trusting himself to look at his friends. Hermione seemed to understand his struggle, reaching out and gently touching his arm.
"Why don't you take that upstairs Harry," she said softly, "Ron and I will tidy up here before we go back to the Dursley's."
Harry just nodded before climbing the stairs and making his way into the kitchen, closing the cellar door and silencing it with a charm before collapsing into a chair and letting his grief for his absent headmaster be finally released in angry sobs.
A/N - there you go, chapter 1. Hope you enjoyed it. Updates should be weekly, on a Monday so until then…