Chapter 6 - Heart and Soul
Six hours later, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the same sofa and chairs they had occupied earlier with Rufus. This time the atmosphere was more relaxed, with Ron placing his feet upon the coffee table (much to the disgust of Hermione); Harry lying back on one end of the sofa and Hermione sitting upright at the other end. Both Ron and Hermione looked at Harry expectantly. For his part, Harry was slightly disconcerted by how quickly everything had happened.
After returning to the Burrow from the Ministry, Ron and Hermione had hastily packed what was required before Flooing back to the Briars. Only a quick explanation was given to the many questions received from the Weasleys - particularly Molly. They had promised to provide more details the next time they met, but had to be deliberately vague as to when that would be.
After spending a couple of hours getting unpacked, the three friends had enjoyed a late dinner provided by Sukey. Hermione had been about to launch into a usual diatribe on elf rights, but Harry had merely said 'not now' and that had proven sufficient. Instead, he had ordered a flagon of pumpkin juice, three glasses, and suggested they repair to the softer seats.
Now that they were finally all together, Harry did not know where to begin. He took a sip of juice and composed his thoughts.
'Well,' he began, 'I suppose we had better turn our minds to the task ahead. I have managed to postpone it all summer, but I suppose we should make a start. The trouble is I don't know how.'
Ron and Hermione shared a glance before the latter spoke up.
'Well, Harry, I have been giving this some thought and I reckon the best approach would be to write down what we know; what we think we know; and what we need. For example, Dumbledore thought that Voldemort had split his soul into seven parts. Let's make a list of those we know about,' she concluded, producing a quill, some ink and parchment.
'OK, that seems reasonable,' said Harry. He sat up a bit. 'Well, we know about the ring and the diary. That's two of the seven parts destroyed, so we only have five more to worry about. We have to assume that one of the fragments remains in Riddle, so that leaves four. We also know about Slytherin's locket.' He paused for a moment, waiting for the scratch of Hermione's quill to catch up with his words. 'Dumbledore also thought that he would have used a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff; something that belonged to Ravenclaw; and Nagini, his snake. Although I must confess that the last three is pure speculation as far as I am concerned,' he concluded.
'OK,' replied Hermione, 'That's a good start. We have four we are certain of if we include the locket and Riddle; and three we aren't sure about. Of the four we are sure about, two have been destroyed. We can ignore Riddle for now, as he will have to be dealt with last.'
Harry nodded, finally beginning to fully appreciate the challenge that they faced. 'So you think we should go after the locket first?' he asked.
'Absolutely,' replied Hermione. 'It's the only artefact we have a lead on.'
'Lead?' asked Ron. 'What lead?'
'RAB,' replied Harry. 'If we can find out who he - or she - was we have a chance of finding the original. According to the note, RAB swapped the fake locket for the real one.'
'Exactly!' said Hermione. 'And I think I know who can help us find RAB.'
'Who?' Harry and Ron asked together.
'McGonagall.' She gave an exasperated sigh at the look of bewilderment on her friend's faces. 'Look, we know that RAB must be a witch or a wizard, right?'
They nodded.
'So then there is a good chance that RAB attended Hogwarts. If so, their name will be on the school roll. If I can get a copy of that from McGonagall, we could perhaps find out who RAB is.'
'That's brilliant, Hermione,' said Harry.
Hermione flushed scarlet. 'Thank you, Harry. I will write to McGonagall to see if she will agree to meet me. Can I borrow Hedwig?'
'Probably not a good idea,' replied Harry. 'It's probably best if she isn't seen delivering mail. You should ask Sukey - I'm sure she would be glad to help.'
Hermione did not look too enamoured at the prospect of using an elf for the job, but conceded the logic.
'OK, I will write to her later. Anything else we should consider?' she asked.
'Yes,' replied Harry. 'Something Lupin said has been bothering me.'
'Lupin?' asked Ron.
'Yes - the night of my birthday at your house. He said that Voldemort would not have expected the attack to succeed in killing Dumbledore. Do you remember?'
'Yes, but what does that prove?' asked Ron.
'It doesn't prove anything, but it got me thinking. Lupin was right - Malfoy let the Death Eaters in once he knew Dumbledore had left the school, so he couldn't have been the original target. And no one could have foreseen how weak Dumbledore would be when he got back. Not Malfoy, nor Snape; not fifty Death Eaters could have taken him had he not been incapacitated. So why did they attack the school?'
'You think there was another motive? asked Hermione.
'Yes. I think Voldemort may have been trying to retrieve something from the school. Something important to him.'
'A Horcrux?' asked Ron.
Harry nodded.
'What do you think it could be?' Ron continued.
'No idea. I'm not even sure that I am right. It's just something I think we should check out.' He looked at Hermione questioningly.
She didn't reply for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, she said 'I think it might be worth checking it out, Harry. You said that Dumbledore believed Riddle would keep the Horcruxes in locations that meant something to him. I can't think of anywhere that would mean more to him than Hogwarts. I'll ask McGonagall if we can have a snoop around before term starts.'
Harry nodded gratefully, glad that his friends had not dismissed his ideas.
'OK, well, that ought to do it for the moment. If you can write to McGonagall we might have something to go on. Until then, we should relax for a bit. It may be the last chance we get for a while, so we should make the most of it.'
***********
Monday 4th August 1997
Harry awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. He'd had the first really good nights sleep for about a week and felt much better for it. He got up, dressed and made his way to the main sitting room that had become their base in this vast house. Ron and Hermione had a room each, but they had taken rooms right next to each other on the first floor. It didn't seem to make sense to spread themselves throughout the manor.
When he arrived downstairs, he was surprised to find Ron up and about ahead of him. Also, he noted with amusement, Hermione didn't appear to have surfaced this morning.
'Morning, Ron,' he said, 'Hermione being lazy today?'
Ron grinned in response. 'I don't think you are in a position to call anyone lazy, Harry - its half past eleven. Hermione left to see McGonagall hours ago.'
'What? Why didn't you wake me?' Harry was affronted.
'Hermione said you needed the rest. She said that you being awake wouldn't change anything, so she would see you when she got back. Now, do you fancy any breakfast, or do you just want to wait until lunch?' he added, with a smirk.
Harry didn't bother dignifying that with a reply. Instead he summoned Sukey, who quickly prepared a hearty breakfast for him. He was half way through eating it when the fireplace suddenly glowed and Hermione stepped out, a large parchment in her hand, looking very pleased with herself.
'Good…' she checked her watch, 'morning, Harry. Sleep well?' she asked, a glint of amusement in her eye.
'Ha ha,' replied Harry, sarcastically. 'You should have woken me,' he added accusingly.
'Contrary to what you might think,' she began mischievously, 'the world does in fact operate when you are not here, Harry. McGonagall replied first thing this morning and invited me to Hogwarts. I left immediately. For one thing, I got to tell her that the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated.'
'Oh. How did she take it?' Harry asked.
'About as well as can be expected. She's over the moon, obviously, but says you had better steer clear of her for a while or she will kill you herself when she sees you. I know exactly what she means,' Hermione added.
'Right, fine,' said Harry, raising his arms in surrender. 'How much more of this will I have to listen to?'
'Oh, I don't know - until we get bored I suppose,' laughed Ron.
'How did you get on Hermione? You were gone for a while,' asked Harry.
'Yes, well, I got what I wanted pretty quickly, but I did have a long chat with Professor McGonagall afterwards. She wanted to know what you were up to, but I told her that Dumbledore had sworn us to secrecy. His portrait confirmed this.'
'His portrait? I had forgotten about that,' said Harry. 'It might be useful if we could speak to him - I mean speak to it.'
'I thought that too,' said Hermione. 'We could speak to it when we visit Hogwarts. McGonagall said we were welcome to go, but we would have to let her know when. She wants to speak to you about something, but she wouldn't say what.'
'Fair enough. It will be good to see her again anyway,' replied Harry. 'I take it that's a copy of the school roll you have?'
'Yes, but not the full roll. I figured that I wouldn't have to go further back than a hundred years. It's still a lot of names though.'
'Do you need any help?' asked Harry.
'I don't think so. I only have one copy, so you would probably get in the way. I'll just take my lunch away with me and get started. You two might want to start thinking about what else we might need,' she added.
With that, she picked up the scroll and departed for her room. Harry watched leave affectionately and then turned to Ron.
'So…any ideas?'
*********
Half an hour later Harry found himself in his room delving through his trunk. Ron had brought it over when he arrived to stay from the Burrow and Harry had forgotten about it. His memory had been jogged by Hermione's suggestion that he and Ron 'think about what else we might need.' Ron had decided that what he needed included a plate of steak and chips, followed by a nap, so Harry had been left to his own devices. It was then that he remembered Dumbledore's letter and the 'odds and ends' that he had left him. Dashing up to his room he waded into his trunk and began sifting through his possessions.
He found the small parcel at the bottom of his trunk. He could not believe that he had left it this long to see what he had been left by his old Headmaster, but he reasoned that he was probably not mentally or emotionally ready to have opened it before now. He was glad that his friends were not here as he felt that this was a private moment - these items had been left to him.
He opened the parcel and tried to contain the total feeling of disappointment that he experienced on viewing the items. The first thing he discovered was a small leather bound book that evidently contained Dumbledore's notes about the Horcruxes. Glancing at it quickly, he did not discover anything that he did not already know. He decided to examine it in detail later.
The second item really perplexed him. He recognised it as the ring he had seen Dumbledore wear last year - the ring that had been used by Voldemort as a Horcrux and the ring that had evidently damaged the headmaster's hand when destroyed. He couldn't for the life of him work out why he had been left a destroyed Horcrux, or why Dumbledore thought that it could help him in his search; but he acknowledged that it was typical of Dumbledore to never explain things fully to him.
His musings were interrupted by shouts from downstairs.
'Harry? Ron? Where are you? I need to speak to you both.' It was Hermione.
Pocketing the items, Harry headed downstairs and was soon joined by Ron. They both looked questioningly at Hermione.
'I think I have found something,' she said.
'That was quick,' replied Ron. I thought it would take you all day to go through that list.'
She looked at him severely for a second. 'I didn't have to go through the entire list, Ronald, I just started with the surnames beginning with "B". I think I have found our RAB.' Ron had the good grace to look sheepish as he realised how foolish he had been.
'Who?' asked Harry.
'Regulus Black,' replied Hermione. 'Regulus Arcturus Black. Was he not Sirius' brother?'
The revelation hit Harry like a sledgehammer. Of course - Regulus. He thought of the time Sirius had taken him through the Black family tree. He even said that Regulus had been a Death Eater. It all fit! How could he have not seen this before now?
'Sweet Merlin,' he said. 'I think you are right, Hermione. Sirius said his brother was tight with Voldemort, but that he had eventually been murdered by him. I wonder if this was his way of getting even. He probably knew Voldemort was on to him and decided to do something about it! What do you think?'
'I think this may be our RAB,' said Hermione. 'It all fits. What do you think, Ron? Ron?' she asked again, as her friend was standing with his eyes closed, deep in thought.
'Do you remember,' Ron began slowly, 'when we were cleaning out Grimmauld Place back in fifth year? We found a locket that no one could get open?' He opened his eyes, the implication of his discovery dawning on him, and looked at the others.
'Oh shit,' said Harry. 'I remember. Oh shit. It's the locket. It was identical to the one we found in the cave! It must be the original that Regulus got when he swapped it for the fake. Shit!'
'What happened to it?' asked Hermione, panic in her voice. 'Did we not throw out a lot of Sirius' old stuff?'
'We did,' replied Harry. 'We chucked out loads of things. I have no idea where they ended up. Sirius wanted them destroyed because he reckoned there was a lot of dark magic in some of those items. Do you not remember Kreacher was heartbroken about it all?'
'Kreacher!' exclaimed Ron. 'That foul little git was always trying to save some of the artefacts! Remember we kept catching him with stacks of the stuff we were trying to toss out? I wonder if he managed to save anything?'
'I hope so,' replied Harry fervently, 'because if he hasn't I have no idea where to look. We will have to go back to Grimmauld,' he finished.
'When?' asked Ron.
'As soon as possible,' replied Harry with a scowl. 'Tonight, if we can. I hoped never to go back there,' he added.
'We know, Harry,' said Hermione, looking concerned for her friend. 'But I suspect there will be a few things we will have to do that we don't want to. It will be best if we wait until tonight. I'm not sure if that house is safe anymore now that Dumbledore is gone and Snape is on the loose. We will have to be careful.'
'I know,' said Harry. He really did not want to go back to Sirius' old house, but he knew that he had no choice in the matter.
Why were things always so difficult?
*********
Number 12 Grimmauld place lay in a state of malevolent slumber; the only light evident coming from the moon as it penetrated through the gaps in the worn curtains. It was evident that no one had set foot in the house for some time as a thick coating of dust lay over everything. Cobwebs could be found on almost every surface and the very air itself seemed to have a tangible quality to it - a heaviness that one could almost touch. A few rats scurried hither and thither, but this was the only movement that disturbed the silence. Even the portraits were still and unmoving.
The stillness was suddenly disturbed by a long, loud creaking as the front door was slowly swung open and Harry, Ron and Hermione tentatively crept into the hall. Harry placed his finger to his lips for silence as the three friends crept past the portrait of Sirius' mother and entered the side room that contained the Black family tree. Harry walked over to the tapestry as Ron quietly closed the door behind them. He noticed that it had updated itself; a new name had been added separate from the others - his own. He realised with a sudden rush of sadness that this house was his now, and that this was probably the only reason they were able to enter. The thought actually gave him some comfort - they had been worried about Snape but Harry now realised that the house would not have let the greasy git in after the death of Sirius. The house wards would have kicked into operation until the new owner - himself - had entered the house.
He started suddenly as Hermione stood next to him and studied the family tree. Evidently, she had reached the same conclusions as he did as a thin smile appeared on her lips and she turned to Harry.
'We should be OK,' she whispered, 'The house would not have let anyone in - Sirius mentioned to us before about the security on this place.'
Harry nodded in reply, a familiar tightness in his throat that appeared whenever he thought of his Godfather.
'Yeah, I think you are right,' he replied. 'So what do we do now? I have no idea where to start looking and this house is no place for the unwary.'
'I know, Harry,' replied Hermione, 'but we have one thing in our favour. Can you summon Kreacher? And when you do, can you please be nice to him?' She noticed that Harry's face had darkened at the mention of the traitorous house elf, so plunged on. 'I know you blame him for Sirius' death, Harry, but we need him right now and bullying him is not going to help.'
'I can just order him to talk you know,' replied Harry, with a bite in his tone. 'He is my elf and I can do what I want with him,' he added bitterly. He turned to look at his friend and noticed a pained expression on her face. He felt his bitterness melt away when he looked at her, and closed his eyes. 'OK, Hermione, I will try to be nice to him.' He took a breath. 'KREACHER!'
After a short moment the elf appeared in front of them with a loud crack. The look of resentment on his face changed to one of disgust when he saw who stood before him.
'Master has summoned Kreacher after ignoring him for so long,' he muttered. 'Kreacher wonders what he has done for master to call on him. Kreacher sees that master still has the blood traitor and the mudblood with him…'
'Enough!' shouted Harry. Kreacher was immediately silent, and Harry took the opportunity to take a deep breath and calm down somewhat.
'Kreacher, you will not use those terms in relation to my friends. I forbid it.' Kreacher made to reply, but Harry continued. 'Now, Kreacher, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truthfully. Have you ever seen this before?' he added, holding up the replica of Slytherin's locket.
Kreacher's eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw the locket, before he cast a glance towards the door. 'Where did master get this?' he hissed, a hint of panic in his voice.
Harry closed his eyes in relief. He knew now from the old elf's reaction that Kreacher had the original locket. He paused for a moment, deciding how best to handle this. He was aware that Hermione was watching him intently, concern on her face.
'Kreacher,' he began, much more civilly than before, 'it is very important that you tell me the truth here. I could order you to answer, but I would rather you did this of your own accord. You have seen this locket before, haven't you?'
After a moment, Kreacher simply nodded. Harry continued.
'This locket belonged to your master, Regulus, did it not?' Again, Kreacher nodded. 'I thought so. Did Regulus make the locket himself?'
'Yes, master,' replied Kreacher, a note of anguish in his voice.
Harry knew that he had to handle this very carefully. 'Kreacher, I have to tell you that the locket you have hidden is a fake. This locket is the real one - the one made by Regulus.' He noticed the sceptical look on the elf's face so removed the note from his pocket. 'Look, Kreacher; this is a note from Regulus. He swapped his locket with a fake belonging to someone else. What I would like you to do for me is get me the fake locket. In exchange, I will give you back the real one.'
Kreacher took the note from Harry and read it greedily. When finished, he looked back at Harry with an astonished expression on his face. Harry decided to turn the screw.
'Kreacher, I could order you to get me the fake locket and then I could keep both of them. However, my friend - the one you call "mudblood" - has asked me not to do this. Instead she - and I - would rather you did this of your own accord. Would you get me the locket? Please?'
Kreacher hesitated for a moment before shuffling off out of the room. He stopped at the door and turned as if making sure he was not being followed.
'I am not interested in any other artefacts,' said Harry. 'Just bring me the fake locket please.'
Kreacher nodded and disappeared . A few minutes later he returned, Slytherin's locket in his grasp.
'Thank you, Kreacher,' said Harry, offering his locket to the elf. In response, Kreacher took it from him and handed over his own locket in return. Harry was surprised to see tears in the old elf's eyes. He turned to Hermione and was equally surprised to see moisture evident in her eyes too. He turned back to Kreacher.
'You may return to Hogwarts, Kreacher; I have no further demands of you.'
In response, Kreacher bowed low to Harry. When he spoke, his voice was deeper, lacking the usual contempt and scorn.
'Master Harry may call on Kreacher at any time. Kreacher will be proud to help such a generous and noble master whenever he is required.' He glanced at Hermione. 'Kreacher will also be proud to serve master's friends. Should they call.'
'Thank you, Kreacher' replied Harry, before realising he was talking to thin air, as the elf had disappeared with a pop. He turned to his friends, an eyebrow raised.
'That went well, don't you think?' he asked, a grin spreading across his face.
**********
Tuesday 5th August 1997
The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in their usual spot around the coffee table. On it lay Slytherin's locket, its presence dominating all else in the room. They had come down for breakfast as normal and, after eating, had taken their normal seats. Harry had placed the locket before them and not a word had been spoken for some time. Finally, Ron broke the silence.
'What now? Does anyone know how we destroy one of these things?'
Harry thought for a moment before replying.
'I don't know, Ron. I destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang but I have no idea how Dumbledore destroyed the ring. It might be worth trying to get back into the chamber to see if we can get another fang, but I don't think the venom will still be potent. We may have to come up with a new method.' He leaned forwards and picked up the locket. It was bitter cold to the touch and was heavier than the replica had been. He didn't know what this meant. He tried to prise it open but found that the lid would not budge. 'Besides,' he continued, 'I don't know if destroying the object will be enough. As far as I can gather, a piece of Voldemort's soul is actually inside this locket. It is the soul fragment we need to destroy - not the locket itself. If we destroy the locket it's possible we will still have a dismembered soul to deal with.'
He looked up at his friends and saw the horrified expressions on their faces. He shrugged in defeat. 'Maybe I should try Dumbledore's journal - there may be something in it on how to actually destroy the damn things.'
'What journal?' chorused Ron and Hermione.
Harry inwardly cursed. He had forgotten to tell his friends about the items Dumbledore had left them. Without a word, he went up to his room and returned a few moments later.
'Dumbledore left me these,' he said, holding up the book and the ring. 'I'm sorry I forget to tell you - I only remembered he had left me something yesterday and in the excitement of Hermione's discovery it completely slipped my mind.'
'I can't believe you, Harry,' began Hermione, a hint of asperity in her tone. 'How could you have forgotten about something as important as this? There could be vital information in that journal.'
Harry made to retort but when he looked at Hermione he saw that she had a hungry look on her face as she gazed upon the book. Suppressing a smile, he handed over the journal. 'Here. I have only had a glance at it. I figured you were the best person to go through it. Take your time. I am going to visit McGonagall today - you said she wanted to see me. You can go through it when I am at Hogwarts.'
Hermione accepted these words as an apology of sorts and almost snatched the book from Harry, such was her eagerness. She fetched a quill and some parchment and began to read, taking notes as she did so. Harry and Ron shared an amused glance.
'So what's that for?' asked Ron, pointing at the ring.
'No idea,' replied Harry. 'I know that it was used as a Horcrux and that Dumbledore destroyed it, but I can't for the life of me work out why he would leave it to me.'
'Bloody mental that man,' replied Ron. 'Great, but mental. You could maybe ask McGonagall when you see her; she might know something.'
Harry nodded, deep in thought. He had not taken his eyes off Hermione whilst talking to Ron and was caught by just how beautiful she looked as she sat there working through the journal. She was now oblivious to everything around her and he was captivated by the look of concentration on her face as she quietly scribbled a few notes onto the parchment. He stood looking at her for a long moment, unaware of the knowing smile that now crossed Ron's face. Finally, he turned from her and caught Ron's eye. The look Ron gave him was very revealing and Harry actually blushed.
'I'm going to see McGonagall,' he muttered, before hastily making his way upstairs.
Ron grinned even wider as his eyes followed Harry from the room. I really need to have a word with him.
**********
Not long after, Harry found himself walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, concealed by his invisibility cloak. He had been about to leave the house without it when Hermione had looked up from her scribbling and had reminded him that he was dead. It would not do for him to be spotted by Filch or anyone else who may be lingering in the castle over the holidays.
He approached the stone gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster's - Mistress', he corrected himself - office and considered his options. Glancing around furtively, he removed his cloak and regarded the statues.
'Cuid Ma Faille,' he said expectantly.
With a low rumbling noise, the staircase started to rise and Harry stepped on, allowing himself to be carried up to the office. When entering, he was surprised to see that McGonagall had made a great deal of changes to the décor - instead of the many mysterious objects that had been present when Dumbledore was alive, there was a plethora of ornaments, most of coloured them with varying degrees of tartan. Harry smiled to himself. Some things don't change.
'Mr Potter,' came the familiar Scottish brogue. 'How good it is to see you. I am pleased to see that you are alive and well in these troubled times.' There was a hint of severity in the tone, but Harry could see that his old teacher was smiling.
'Hello, Professor. It's good to see you too. I'm sorry about the deception, but I thought it would be useful to disappear for a while.'
'Quite, I understand. Please sit down,' replied McGonagall. For her part, she was greatly pleased to see her former pupil, although she did have some difficulty in accepting the 'former' part of that status. Of all the students that had crossed her path over the years, there was only two that she considered greater favourites than the young man now sitting before her. One was, of course, this young man's friend; the other his mother. It often struck her that the two women she considered her favourite students should be so alike and should be linked by a shared love for Harry. Life was strange sometimes.
'I am glad you could make the time to see me,' she began, as she poured them both some tea. 'Albus requested that I give you something in a letter I received after his death. I was beginning to wonder how to comply with his request, but now I can carry out his wish.'
At the mention of his old Headmaster Harry had cast a glance towards the portraits on the wall only to find that the one of Dumbledore was empty. He didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved by this. Following his glance, McGonagall continued.
'I am afraid that Albus had to leave on urgent business this morning - his presence was requested by the Minister. No rest for him, even in death it would seem.' She had risen whilst saying this and had removed something from its case at the back of the room. Sitting back down, she offered it to him. Harry was stupefied.
'Gryffindor's sword?' he asked in amazement. 'I can't accept this. This is one of the most important artefacts in our world!'
'I am well aware of that, Mr Potter; but notwithstanding this, Albus was most insistent that you have this. It is not a gift, Harry, more of a loan. Albus seems to think that you will need it, but it is to be returned when you have done whatever it is you have to do.' There was more than a hint of a question in her tone and Harry suddenly felt a surge of pity for his old teacher. These past few weeks could not have been easy for her.
'I'm sorry I can't tell you what we are doing, Professor, but the Headmaster insisted that I tell no one apart from Ron and Hermione. I am sure it is not an issue of trust, for I know he had nothing but the highest regard for you. If I was to guess his reasons, I would suggest that he wanted you to be kept out of this for your own safety. He knew that Hogwarts would need you once he was gone.'
Minerva seemed to accept this explanation, for she merely nodded and handed over the sword to Harry, who took it from her with a degree of reverence. They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the artefact before them. Finally Minerva brought them back to business.
'I hope you realise that I will do anything in my power to assist you, Harry - do not hesitate to seek my help. You do not have to reveal what you are doing, but need only ask.'
'Thank you, Professor,' replied Harry. 'There are one or two things I may need. I would be grateful if Ron, Hermione and I could have a look around Hogwarts before term starts again. There is something we need to check.'
'Of course,' replied Minerva. 'I trust you are receiving admirable help from Miss Granger and Mr Weasley?'
'Too right I am,' replied Harry, with an emphatic nod. 'I couldn't do this without them.'
'I am glad to hear it.' Minerva paused for a moment before continuing. 'It is good that you appreciate your friends; sometimes people don't realise what they have even when it is staring them in the face.'
Harry looked at her sharply. There had definitely been a shift in emphasis when she said that last remark. What was she really trying to say?
'There is no need to worry on that score,' replied Harry, cautiously, 'I appreciate everything they do for me.'
'Good,' replied Minerva. 'I would hate to think you were not noticing some very important things,' she added pointedly. 'Now we have some things to discuss, some arrangements to be made, so I would be grateful if I could have your undivided attention - unlike some of the times you were in my class,' she added with a smile.
Harry merely nodded, confused by her remarks. What exactly was she getting at? he thought to himself as he relaxed back into his chair.
*******
Hermione put down her quill and strode to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had been working on Dumbledore's notebook for several hours and felt that she deserved a break. She had jotted down a copious amount of notes as the Headmaster had left them a load of valuable information in his book - if one knew what to look for. For one thing, she now had a good idea what McGonagall wanted to see Harry about.
She thought about her own meeting with her former Professor when she had requested a copy of the school roll. McGonagall had always been her favourite teacher (she knew Harry and Ron preferred Dumbledore) and she was delighted to have had the chance to talk to her on an informal basis. Minerva (as she had insisted Hermione call her) was a role model to her. Intelligent, independent and utterly fearless; she was everything Hermione strove to be. She was also uncomfortably astute about certain matters of the heart.
When Hermione had told her that Harry was still alive, Minerva's relief and delight had been obvious. What was slightly disconcerting, however, was the older woman's seemingly impossible knowledge of Hermione's feelings towards Harry. After a futile attempt to deny these feelings, Hermione had been forced to admit that Minerva was correct.
'Don't worry yourself about it, dear. Harry has a lot on his mind at the moment. Once he has a chance to stop and think, he will realise the truth before him.'
'What truth?' Hermione had asked.
'The fact that he is madly in love with you too. It's as plain as the nose on your face that the two of you are meant to be together. I can't think of a couple who are more suitably matched in all my long years of teaching. You have come to realise this - Harry hasn't managed to do this yet. Of course, you always were quicker on the uptake; although as this is Harry we are talking about, that's not much of a boast. When it comes to certain matters he really does have the perception of a troll.'
Hermione had not known what to say to this revelation - indeed she was still a little dumbstruck at the comments. She smiled when she thought about it though; on one thing at least Minerva was correct. She had seen Harry's feeble attempts to woo Cho in fifth year and knew all to well that he had a bit of a blind spot when it came to matters of the heart. She only hoped that Minerva was correct in her assertion that he loved her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a roaring from the fireplace that indicated that Harry was on his way back. She called Ron down from his room and went over to greet her friend when he returned. After a moment, Harry appeared from the flames with a wrapped package in his hand. He gave Hermione what can only be described as an odd look and seemed to be about to say something to her when they were interrupted by Ron.
'Alright, mate? What did McGonagall want then?' he asked.
Hermione noticed that Harry looked a bit annoyed at the interruption, but the expression was so fleeting she could have imagined it. He glanced back to her before replying.
'She wanted to give me this,' he replied, as he held out Gryffindor's sword for them both to see.
'Wow!' exclaimed Ron. 'What did she give you that for?'
'No idea,' replied Harry. 'Dumbledore apparently thought I would need it, but he didn't say why.' The frustration in his voice was evident.
'I know why,' said Hermione. She ignored the astonished looks on the faces of her friends. 'Why don't we sit down? There are some things you both should know.'
She led them to their usual place by the window and waited until they were all seated before continuing.
'Dumbledore left a lot of vital information in his journal,' she began, with an admonishing look at Harry, who merely looked sheepishly back at her. 'Probably the most important piece of information was how to destroy a Horcrux. You see, you only have to destroy the object that the fragment of soul resides in, in order to destroy the soul fragment itself. However, the soul fragment provides the object with powerful magical protection, so attempting to smash or crack it using conventional methods wont work. You need powerful magic to counter this defence. Harry destroyed the diary by using a basilisk fang and that worked because the venom is from a magical creature and is so powerful that it will destroy anything it comes into contact with.' She paused before her next revelation. 'Dumbledore destroyed the ring using Gryffindor's sword.'
An astonished silence greeted these words before Harry finally summoned the will to speak.
'How?'
'It's a magical sword, Harry - you of all people should know that. Gryffindor put some of himself into that sword when he made it. Not his soul,' she added quickly, correctly guessing Harry's next question. 'More like some of his magical essence. That's why it was able to sense that you needed it in the chamber. Remember, you pulled it out of the sorting hat. That was Gryffindor's too. The two objects are linked, and this link can only be a magical one.'
Harry took a moment to absorb this new information. He sat forward, slowly turning the sword over in his hands, deep in thought. 'Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that sword out of the hat,' he murmured. Finally he looked up. 'So, we have the capability to destroy the locket then?' he asked.
Hermione nodded.
'So what are we waiting for?' asked Ron. 'Here, Harry, let me see the sword for a second,' he continued, before rising and taking the sword from an astonished Harry and walking over to the table where the locket lay. Before either Harry or Hermione had time to react, Ron swung the blade with all of his might and brought it down sharply on the locket.
Two things happened at once. The locket, instead of breaking into pieces, merely shot off the table such was the force of the impact. And Ron let out a roar of pain as the shock of the blow reverberated up through the sword and into his arm.
'Sweet Merlin!' he cried, as he dropped the sword and clutched his arm. 'That bloody hurt!'
'Ronald Weasley!' exclaimed Hermione. 'That is without doubt the most stupid thing you have ever done, and that's saying something!' She was furious, and even Harry backed away from her rage. 'You had no idea what could have happened there. You could have been killed!'
'It's OK, Hermione, no real harm done,' said Ron, through gritted teeth. He strode over to the wall and retrieved the locket. It didn't have a scratch on it. 'I thought you said the sword would destroy the locket?' he asked, accusingly.
'No, I said you couldn't destroy the object by conventional means. We have to get the damn thing open first, you idiot.'
Harry knew that she really was angry - he couldn't remember the last time he had heard her curse. He tried to take the edge of her wrath.
'OK then, so do we have any idea how to open it? I remember that none of us could get it open at Grimmauld.'
Hermione turned on Harry, but her features softened before she replied.
'No, Harry, we will have to give this some thought. We will probably have to try a few things.' She held his gaze for a moment before turning towards some movement from Ron.
'Alohamora!' said Ron, trying to coax the locket into opening.
'Will you stop that!' exclaimed Hermione, her temper flaring again. 'We are not ready yet to face whatever is in that locket and we don't want it opened before we are ready. Besides, we tried that before, remember?'
'Yeah, I remember. I was just trying to discover if the damn thing had learned to understand English yet.'
'Incantations are not said in English, Ron - they are said in Latin. How many times do I have to tell you that?'
Harry smiled despite the situation. Even now, Hermione could not help but correct Ron's stupidity.
'Yeah, OK, Hermione, I get it now. English doesn't work; Latin doesn't work. Any other suggestions?' he asked sarcastically. 'French perhaps? Or maybe German?'
A light went of in Harry's head at these words. He ignored the continued bickering between his two friends as he came to a realisation that he knew was true.
'I know how to open it,' he said quietly. His two friends stopped in mid argument and stared at him.
'Here, give me the locket,' continued Harry. 'And the sword.'
Without a word, Ron handed over the two items as requested and gave Harry a questioning look.
'I want you two to leave the room,' said Harry. 'If anything goes wrong, I don't want either of you getting hurt. Besides, we shouldn't put all our eggs in one basket.'
'Not a chance,' said Hermione. 'If you think I am going to let you open that thing on your own then you must take me for a fool. Wild horses could not drag me out of this room right now.'
Harry was about to argue, but one look at the fierce expression on Hermione's face convinced him otherwise.
'OK, but I want you both to stand over there,' he said, pointing to the farthest corner of the room. Neither of his friends moved. 'That wasn't a request,' continued Harry. 'Get in that corner right now or I will bugger off somewhere and do this myself!' His tone was harsh now, and his friends, after a moment's hesitation, moved to obey. 'And if this looks like getting dodgy,' Harry continued, 'you will get the hell out of here as quick as you can. Right?'
Ron and Hermione nodded mutely. Harry seemed to accept this and turned to the locket in his hand. He took a deep breath and then stared intently at the snake engraved on the lid. Focussing as much as he could on the image, he said, simply, 'Open.'
Only what came out of his mouth was not in English - or indeed, Latin. It was Parseltongue.
After a moment, the locket opened with a soft click. Harry placed it on the table and stood back, the sword held at his side.
A black mist slowly began to emerge from the depths of the locket; a swirling mass that rose above the table before beginning to take shape. Harry recognised it immediately - it was Riddle. A younger Riddle than the one he had encountered in the graveyard, but significantly older than that which came out of the diary. He heard a low moan from Hermione, but shut her out of his mind. He needed to concentrate fully on what was before him. Finally, the full form of Riddle was clear, and the spirit like entity turned to face him. It looked confused for a moment, before recognition dawned.
'So, Potter,' it hissed. 'You have finally summoned the courage to face me?' The voice was pure malevolence, its tone biting.
Harry was astonished. How did it know his name? What magic was he dealing with here?
'Where is the mudblood?' Riddle continued. 'You besmirch the good name of pure-bloods everywhere for her sake, and you don't have the decency to bring her before me? Perhaps I should thank you. I would not want to be contaminated by such filth.' His eyes finally alighted on Ron and Hermione in the corner. 'I see you have companions, but the mudblood Evans is not among them. Have you tired of her so soon? Is this another of her ilk before me?' The tone was leering, but now Harry understood. This Riddle thought he was his father.
'Do the mudbloods get you going, Potter?' continued Riddle. 'Do they pant for you? Is that why you sully yourself with them? Does this one here beg for you in heat?'
'Leave her out of this,' said Harry, anger creeping into his tone. 'This is between me and you, Tom.'
'Oh, but it isn't,' replied Riddle. 'We need not have been enemies, Potter, but for your lust for Evans. I could not abide you lowering yourself for her sake. And it would seem that you have found another to rut with. I shall take great pleasure in killing her after I deal with you. I may even deign to take her myself before she dies, to see what it is about them that appeals to you so much.'
Harry struggled with all of his might not to look at Hermione at that point. He wanted her to flee, but knew that she wouldn't.
'You will not touch her,' he said, in a voice that reverberated with power and rage. An intangible aura seemed to surround him now as his temper rose. 'You will not touch her because you are not worthy of her. No man is worthy of her. I am going to destroy you, Tom, but before I do, I would like to put you straight on a little misunderstanding we seemed to have reached. I am not James Potter.'
Riddle started in surprise, before recovering his composure. 'So who are you then?'
'I am his son. The son of James Potter and Lily Evans, and I am going to destroy you, as you destroyed them.'
'So I killed you parents did I?' asked Riddle. 'Good. It will not be long before you join them. Your parents were powerful but no one can match me. Their deaths are proof of that. So what do you think you have that they lacked, son of Potter?'
'This,' said Harry, finally revealing the sword. For the first time, the Riddle entity displayed fear on its features. It seemed to recover after a moment, and a look of pure loathing crossed its features. 'Dumbledore gave you that,' it hissed, before suddenly lunging at Harry.
But Harry was too quick for it. With a speed that took everyone by surprise, he stepped forward and thrust the sword into the heart of the open locket. Riddle, who had been reaching for him, suddenly gave out a massive, ear piercing scream, one so loud that it nearly knocked Harry to the ground. Harry clasped the sword firmly, holding it in place and stared at the entity as it writhed in its final death agonies. It withered as it screamed, struggling with all of its might against the inevitable. Finally, with a last gut wrenching howl, it disappeared without a trace.
Harry finally let go of the sword, sweat pouring down his face. The locket was a smouldering ruin on the table. He turned to face his friends but before he could he was engulfed in a ferocious hug from Hermione, who had tears streaming down her face. Ron looked at him with an expression of awe, before he finally smiled and then took them out of the moment.
'Three down,' he said. 'I don't know what all the fuss is about, Harry, this is easier than I thought,' he added with a smile. Only his eyes betrayed what he was really feeling.
********
A few hours later, Hermione and Ron sat by the window together, both in silent contemplation. Harry was upstairs sleeping - the encounter with the spirit Riddle had taken its toll on his resources. Hermione was struggling to come to terms with what Harry had done. On the one hand, she was angry at him for acting so hastily and opening the locket without preparation. On the other, she was somewhat in awe of the way he had handled the situation. She had always thought him a great wizard, but this afternoon he had emphatically demonstrated just how powerful he was.
And that was what was really bugging her, she realised. Harry had taken complete command of the whole situation as if born to do so. When he had ordered them to back away into the corner, his tone contained an authority that brooked no argument. When he had faced down the spirit Riddle, there had been an almost visible aura surrounding him - the power seemed to be emanating forth from his being. She had to admit that it intimidated her a little, if she was honest with herself. It was not lost on her either that Harry had only seemed to really come into his element when Riddle had threatened her. She still remembered his words; you are not worthy of her. No man is worthy of her. She had never quite realised before just how much Harry regarded her, but she also fervently hoped that he did not include himself in that statement. He was so worthy of her; it was she who did not feel worthy of him right now.
'A penny for them,' said Ron, who finally broke the silence.
Hermione turned to her friend and smiled; his idiocy from earlier now forgotten. 'I'm just worried about Harry,' she replied. 'There are another three Horcruxes to destroy before we even get to Voldemort, and I am concerned that he will have to go through something similar each time.'
Ron nodded. 'Yeah, that occurred to me too, but I think he can handle it. I mean, he was bloody amazing today. I never knew he had it in him.'
Hermione shook her head. 'I think I was always aware of what he was capable of, but he does still surprise me sometimes. I was terrified the whole time.'
'Me too. He seemed to take it in his stride, although he did get really pissed off at one point. Did you notice?'
Hermione merely nodded. Of course she had noticed. She had hoped, however, that Ron had not.
'I thought he was going to really lose it when Riddle started threatening you. I don't think old Tom realised he was opening a can of worms when he did that.' It was said matter-of-factly, but Hermione detected a question in the tone. And something else too. Amusement.
'Yes, that did seem to really rile Harry. He's always been very protective of his friends.'
'True,' replied Ron, 'but I think there was a bit more to it today.'
'Oh?'
'Yes,' replied Ron. He let the ensuing silence stretch for a bit before continuing. 'Oh, come off it, Hermione, don't play dumb with me. We both know why Harry lost the rag when you were threatened. Please don't insult us both by pretending otherwise.'
Hermione made to plead ignorance, but Ron's expression changed her mind. Instead, she decided to finally come clean.
'Do you think he likes me?' she asked.
Ron smiled. 'Does a Centaur shit in the woods? Of course he bloody well likes you. It's obvious. Honestly, Hermione; for someone so clever, you can be a right dolt at times. Now, the question really is; do you like him?'
Hermione looked at her feet before replying. 'Yes,' she answered, in a small voice.
'Well, it's about time one of you did something about it then,' replied Ron. 'Merlin knows, I'm not an expert, but I know that nothing will happen unless one of you makes a move. And I also know that Voldemort will join SPEW before Harry decides to do something about it. So my advice to you is this; if you like him, you will have to tell him; because if you don't you will never be together. Here endeth the lesson,' concluded Ron.
Hermione looked up at her friend, suddenly feeling a release within her. She knew Ron was right - she had known all along. She had just needed to hear it.
'Thanks, Ron,' she said.
Ron merely shrugged. 'What are friends for?' he asked. 'Besides, the two of you are beginning to annoy me,' he added, before quickly rising and heading for the kitchen.
Hermione gave him a mock-scowl as he retreated before turning back to look out of the window. Her face split into a huge grin. Harry really likes me.
***********
a/n I know that it hardly original to use Slytherin's locket as a Horcrux, but unfortunately I have discovered (as I am sure many other fan fic authors have also discovered) that it is virtually impossible to do a 7th year Horcrux fic without including it. The simple fact is that by the end of HBP it is quite apparent where JKR is going with RAB and the locket and so its inclusion was unavoidable.
Hopefully the remaining items won't be so obvious….