All twelve of them sat around a round table, Moody's enchanted map located in the middle. Harry sat in the seat closest to the entrance of the heavily warded and guarded tent. It was one of those clandestine meetings that couldn't be risked overheard by regular grunts. Sitting to his left was Hermione, looking on in fascination as the as the red dots symbolizing Death Eaters clouded around the tower while all of the blue dots symbolizing the Minister's Army slowly retreated to Hogsmeade. The Muggle carpet bombings against the tower showed exactly how strong the tower actually was. If it could withstand the hellfire and devastation of the Muggle equipment, it was difficult to keep hope that the wizards would be able to destroy the tower soon.
To Harry's right sat Malfoy, languidly lounging in his chair, his eyes constantly roving but his head still. Moody was to Malfoy's right, his magical eye whizzing around in agitation as he waited for Potter to continue his speech. Continuing counter-clockwise was Seamus and Dean, trying to ease the tensions by cracking a few self-referential jokes of their days in Hogwarts. Michael Corner sat next to them, smiling idly but looking nervously at the slowly moving dots on the map.
Neville sat next to Michael, directly opposite of Harry. He, too, was scouring over the map but kept a spare eye on Hermione, sneaking a few glances when he thought she didn't notice. It felt like forever since he had last seen her or talked to her alone. The only face to face conversation they've had in private since the incident was - well - the incident. Su Li and Padma, the latter's ankle intact, sat to Neville's right while the Muggle Samson sat adjacent to them. Rounding out the circle of confidants was Ron, his eyes glued to the map as if it were his own personal chess board.
"So that's it then?" Ron asked aloud, "All of Voldemort's forces seem to be moving towards the tower."
"I don't think even Voldemort knew how strong the tower truly was," Hermione quietly reasoned, "Now that he knows what it can roughly withstand, he can afford to bring his Death Eaters under the umbrella of protection and conduct his terrorizing raids from a central hub instead of a sprawling neighborhood. It doesn't allow us to constantly disrupt his camps since we can't come close to the tower anymore."
"Granger's right, of course," Moody conceded, "Voldemort's localizing his forces and removing our ability to conduct patrols around them. They're free to just move and strike wherever they fancy since they have an almost impenetrable hub."
"Wouldn't that make it easier for us?" Seamus asked, "Since we know where they all are, we can just trace and follow them as they leave to make raids and recruit more Muggles."
"Except we can't set up Anti-Apparition wards wherever we want. They're on the offensive here and their targets are anyone who doesn't subscribe to Voldemort's way of thinking. We can't be everywhere at once," Padma explained.
"But we know where they all are! Can't we just take them on?" Dean agreed with his roommate's line of thought.
"Even if we possibly could, the losses would be fantastic," Malfoy suddenly piped in, "Attacking them has no end game, Thomas. I know it's difficult for you to understand, but sometimes it's good to have a cohesive plan before we brazenly charge into the hornet's nest."
"I think I liked it better when you didn't talk."
"Enough," Harry cut them off.
"So what do you propose?" Samson spoke his first words to the council.
Harry looked at the Muggle with steely determination in his eyes, knowing what he was about to propose would not be received well by everyone.
"We need to attack Voldemort."
"See? Told you I was right," Seamus shot at Malfoy.
"I mean - attack him directly. Not just his forces."
"Hmm…I don't know about that," Seamus suddenly backpedaled.
"Not to be a pessimist, Harry, but that seems a bit impossible at the moment. There's a lot of red dots around that little tower of his," Michael pointed out.
"I haven't…quite…figured out a plan, but can we agree that it's our only option left? What we've been doing is admirable, but it's simply a stop-gap and delaying the inevitable for either side. How many more Muggles can we save? How many more people can we protect before we're all left to ruin? We've destroyed all but two of Voldemort's Horcruxes. If Hermione's right about what the last Horcrux is, it'll be with Voldemort. Once we do that, we'll have our opportunity," Harry spelled out the basis of his plan for them.
"I suppose that's where this one comes in," Dean jerked his head to Neville.
"Yes," Harry said icily, staring at Neville with barely held ferocity, "It's up to Neville."
All eyes turned to the Boy-Who-Lived, suddenly putting him under the spotlight. Neville nervously shifted around but held Harry's gaze, not willing to crumble under his glare. Clearing his throat, Neville nodded his head, "You're right."
"So…" Samson's eyes turned from Harry to Neville skeptically, "What are you going to take care of this Voldemort chap?"
"I suppose I could start by killing him."
"Sure," Malfoy snorted.
"Shut it, Malfoy," Neville said tiredly, "No one cares what you think."
"I care what he thinks," Harry snapped, defending the masked man.
"What I think Neville is trying to say…" Hermione lead in, hoping to ease the tension, "…is that we just have to present him with an opportunity to face Voldemort unobstructed. Voldemort, for all his magical mastery, tends to surround himself to make sure he doesn't ever have to face Neville alone. He's still afraid of him."
"I'm not even afraid of Longbottom," Malfoy scoffed.
"Regardless," Hermione shot a glare on the other side of Harry, "If we can get Neville alone with him…"
"Not to rain on your confidences, Granger, but I can't say I fancy the odds of a duel between Longbottom and Voldemort," Moody wasn't one to be sensitive when it came to these types of subjects.
Neville burned red at the comment, but didn't rebut. Moody was simply expressing his opinion on a topic he was extremely knowledgeable about.
"What of your connection with him, Longbottom? You able to control yourself?" Moody continued to interrogate him.
"I - I don't know. It comes and goes," Neville stuttered.
"It comes and goes? How is that even remotely reliable?" Malfoy was in full force now as he pushed away from the table and stood up to point an accusing finger at Neville, "Longbottom's a liability. How can anyone else not see that?"
"He's also the only chance we have at defeating Voldemort," Ron rose to Neville's defense for once.
"Bullshit, I've never believed that old bat and I'm certainly not going to believe her when my life is on the line. Longbottom is not NOT the answer!"
"ENOUGH of this infantile finger pointing!" Moody pounded his staff against the ground, hushing Malfoy at once, "Whether you like it or not, Malfoy - Archer - whatever the bloody hell you think you are - Longbottom has been our main answer for as long as this war has gone on. Dumbledore believed in him and I'm not one to rethink the words of the greatest wizard I've ever known."
Malfoy's face was obviously not visible behind his mask but the manner in which he pulled out his chair and sat back down was evidence enough of his anger. Huffing and puffing, Moody turned back towards the table, "I like your idea, Potter, but let's have something a bit more concrete. It would be suicide just to take on the entire Death Eater force by ourselves. We need to somehow get Longbottom and a couple of others in the tower."
"What's in the tower?" Samson suddenly interrupted Moody.
The rest of the wizards shifted uncomfortably and looked at each other for answers, the eyes slowly revolving until they settled on Hermione. Hermione opened and closed her mouth, never one to say she didn't know.
"It could be several things, perhaps the source of the tower's magic. It could also simply be a barren shell and the power of the tower comes from somewhere else. Perhaps -"
"So you don't know," Samson bluntly stopped her, his statement not a question.
"No one knows for sure," Harry softly saved Hermione from anymore stuttering explanations.
"Fine lot of information you have there," Samson muttered.
"Well your way didn't seem to work so I guess we're going to have to work off our lot of information," Harry sarcastically responded.
"Do we even know if Voldemort is inside the tower?" Lisa suddenly piped up.
"Yes," Harry confirmed. With a wave of his hand, Harry summoned a few photos from thin air. He passed them around the table, letting them all take a turn at viewing its contents, "The Slytherin regiment has been deep within the tower's outer circle for months conducting heavy reconnaissance and…persuasion missions. The photos you see are long range snapshots of Voldemort entering and exiting the tower. According to them, the only person in and out of the tower has been Voldemort."
"Absolutely no one else?"
"None as far as they've seen."
"That's good news, right?" Dean asked, "If Voldemort's the only one in there, all we have to do is get Neville inside the tower to face him."
"We don't know if the tower has it's own inner defenses," Hermione softly said as she closely examined the pictures, "It's also curious that only Voldemort is allowed in and out. Is that his choice or…"
"The tower's?" Harry finished.
"Exactly," Hermione sighed.
There was a silence as they mulled over the continuously difficult and ambiguous task of reaching Voldemort. Moody rubbed his non-magical eye and made a motion with his hands. A big red 'X' appeared at the location of the tower on his magical map.
"At least we know exactly where Voldemort is. The problem is how do we get there?" Moody moved on.
"Alive preferably," Seamus quipped.
"We know that Anti-Apparition wards are set up for quite some distance around the tower so Apparating within is impossible. Portkey-ing in is out of the question since we don't have any sort of available safe areas within the tower's circle. Floo Network is completely shut down and they'd find a way to close it anyways once they realized forces were coming in. The only two options we have left are going on foot or flying in."
"I vote against flying in. They'll pick us off before we can get within a couple kilos of the tower," Dean opined.
"Don't really fancy a ground attack as well," Padma furrowed her eyebrows, "That's like fighting a land war on Asia. Don't think it'll turn out well."
"I know neither of these options seem promising," Harry conceded, "That's why I prefaced this briefing by saying I didn't have a concrete plan yet."
"So you've brought us into a briefing with no concrete plan other than saying we have to get to Voldemort. Interesting operation you're running here," Samson scoffed.
"If you're done belittling us, perhaps we can move on from your snide comments and formulate a plan that'll get us near the tower," Hermione coolly responded to him.
Samson reddened, embarrassed that he was reprimanded in such a manner. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to the punch and cut him off.
"I don't care if you were sent from the Queen herself. This is a meeting to figure out a way to defeat Voldemort, not to childishly pick apart our planning stages. You had your shot. You failed. Our turn."
Seamus and Dean were already snickering as Hermione tore into Samson, but once she finished, it was all they could do not to burst out in fits of laughter. They were content hiding their smiles behind their hands. Even Moody looked amused and Harry had his eyebrows raised in surprise. It was unlike Hermione to deliver such a scathing blow to someone wholly Muggle. The extent of wizarding discrimination was so high that even Hermione couldn't help but have a slight bias to those of Muggle descent. Apparently, Samson was exempt from this rule.
"She makes a point," Moody said, mostly to hush the ever increasing amount of giggles from Seamus.
Samson remained silent for the remainder of the meeting.
"In order for this to work, we need to establish two things. A way to reach the tower and a way to have Neville face Voldemort," Harry started.
"Lot of good that'll do us," Malfoy again grumbled.
Harry ignored the little quip and continued, "Given that Voldemort is still searching for Neville, it's safe to assume that he doesn't know where Neville is at the moment. An attack by us would at least buy us a big enough distraction for Neville to somehow get in the tower - yes, Padma?"
"I don't mean to bring this up again, but Voldemort wants Neville. He said so himself. Why are we granting him his one wish?"
Only Harry spotted it, but Hermione shifted uneasily in her chair. It was the same sort of movement she would make back when they attended classes at Hogwarts. Usually, Hermione would grow uncomfortable in her seat when she knew the answer to a particularly difficult question that no one else had the solution. Mentally filing that fact away, Harry turned to address Padma's query.
"Either way, Neville's going to have to face Voldemort if the prophecy is true," Harry lingered for a moment before continuing, "I don't know what Voldemort wants with Neville but the inevitable fact is that Neville will have to duel him."
Harry turned a wary eye to Neville, but saw his former roommate was unwavering in response. Whether or not Neville was up for the task was a mystery to Harry, but at least he put on a brave front.
"All that remains is how to get to the tower alive."
All eyes returned to the map as if it contained some secret hieroglyphic that would solve their problems. It was quiet for a moment, the difficulty of the task weighing down on the makeshift council that comprised of mostly teenagers. Neville suddenly leaned forward, instantly attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Squinting, Neville pointed at a small, black line leading out of Hogsmeade.
"What's this?" Neville asked.
"That?" Moody squinted with his organic eye, "That's just the train tracks for the Hogwarts Express. It leads straight to…"
Moody trailed off as he followed the train tracks straight to King's Cross. From there, it was only a skip and a jump to the tower. Granted, it was in the middle of an extremely Death Eater infested area, but it was the closest they could reasonably get with minimal damage.
"Does it still run? The Hogwarts Express, I mean," Harry asked excitedly.
"Of course, we took it recently to pick up Samson and Thorn," Moody gruffly replied, analyzing the probabilities of success, "It's just sitting there."
"And what of the tracks?"
"I walked them for a long time back when I left," Neville informed them, "They were intact as far as I could tell."
"But that won't be the problem," Malfoy interjected, "The problem will be when the Death Eaters realize a train is heading straight towards King's Cross. The train itself won't survive the trip."
"We can armor the train," Padma pointed out, "There's enough of us to protect the train and the Death Eaters surely won't see it coming! If they haven't destroyed the train tracks, they certainly won't think we'll use the train to get there."
"Byproduct of wizard laziness," Moody nodded while his magical eye circled around until it was fixed on an object behind him, "We Apparate and fly everywhere and never think of using something as simple as a train."
"Plus - it'll go fast enough so that by the time the Death Eaters realize what we're doing, they'll have a hard time slowing it down. It's big enough to house all of us as well."
"Samson," Moody barked, "What was King's Cross like when you went there? Busy? Lots of Death Eaters?"
"Not that I know of," Samson frowned, "Saw some kids brandishing a couple of guns but that's about it."
"But he wouldn't have seen the Death Eaters," Seamus suddenly joined the fray, "They were magically hidden, but I could detect some traces of it when I went to pick them up. Judging by the amount of Death Eaters on the map, King's Cross probably has more activity now."
"But not directly at King's Cross," Harry argued, "We'll be landing in the middle of the whole hive, but if we can just cause enough of a distraction and get Neville in the tower, it'll be worth it."
Harry turned to Moody, appealing for his support. Hermione was strangely quiet, sneaking a few glances at Neville while the rest of the group argued over the chances of success of the newly proposed plan. Neville caught her eye once or twice but didn't maintain eye contact for very long, opting to contribute to the planning stages of the operation.
"We're going to take on losses," Moody muttered, "We're practically asking for it with this plan. But everything else is indefensible. Samson, can we expect any of your help?"
Samson crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in heavy thought. He slowly replied, "Let me get this straight. You want to magically protect a train as it speeds headlong into the heart of all the bad wizards just so you can cause enough of a distraction to sneak one person in to fight Voldemort?"
"Roughly," Moody answered without blinking his one possible eye.
"I'll forward it along."
------------------------------------------------------
There was a mass of bodies circling the Hogwarts Express with spells being spoken every few seconds as the heavy armoring of their train to salvation began. Malfoy was directing the traffic, barking and bellowing every few seconds as he tried to perfect the defense of the train.
In order for the train to possibly survive a magical attack, it would need to be fortified as much as possible without causing an overflow of magic. The train, after all, was a combination of Muggle and magical ingenuity. It could only withstand and hold so many spells before it started to buckle under it's own weight. Malfoy was tasked with the responsibility of finding the right balance between protection and stability.
The most important part of the process would be the strength of the VIP carriage. Within the carriage would be the trio of Neville, Hermione, and Ron. The operation would be a failure if they couldn't even deliver the three of them to their projected destination so it was the utmost importance that they survive the trip.
If the train started to take on damage, they would have to jettison the carriages one by one in order to offload the damage and hopefully maintain the speed of the train, so placing the VIP carriage in the back would be out of the question. But Malfoy couldn't also place it right behind the conductor as he assumed that most of the magical fire would be focused on that area in order to stop the train. He hedged his bets and placed the VIP carriage two behind the conductor.
While they could enchant and fortify the train all they wanted, the fact of the matter remained that they would still have to fight and fend off the Death Eaters as they attacked it. Preferably, Malfoy would've simply fought from the protection inside the train, but that would leave them at a severe disadvantage. They would never be able to see directly above them, leaving them vulnerable to Death Eaters landing on the train and attacking them even closer. He had no other choice but to start making preparations that they would have to fight on top of the train as well.
"Is the conductor properly protected?" Harry asked as he arrived at the frantic scene.
"As much as can be," Malfoy replied, "Several shield charms, reinforced protection from residual damage, numerable cooling charms to keep from overheating, reactionary spells on contact, and a spearhead should we encounter a barrier. You name it - we got it."
"Good. And the VIP carriage?"
"Protected in much of the same manner. It even has a fail safe interior shell should they discover that Longbottom is hiding in there. Those two carriages are taking up most of the magical protection. The others…not so much."
"Risk we have to take if we want to get through this and get to Voldemort," Harry solemnly reasoned.
"Maybe so, but we're going to have to do most of the fighting ourselves. We're going to take multiple losses just trying to get to the tower. Once we actually do get there…Potter, I don't think we can possibly retreat alive."
Harry sighed and kicked at the dirt, his arms crossed in front of him, "We won't."
"It's suicide."
"Yes, I know."
"All to get Longbottom a chance at Voldemort. You do realize that Voldemort will rip him to pieces."
"Most likely."
"So what's the plan then? What's the rabbit out of the hat you're going to pull this time? This isn't Sheppard's class anymore, Potter. If we lose this, we die."
"I thought you weren't afraid of dying?"
"I'm not afraid of dying. But dying means we lose and for me - that's unacceptable."
"We're just going to have to trust Neville," Harry said without any emotion.
"You can't possibly believe that!"
"We don't have any other choice," Harry's tone ended the conversation abruptly as he walked away from Malfoy.
"Potter!" Malfoy called out, "If this is suicide, I'm taking everything down. Everything."
"I'm counting on it."
As Harry continued to walk away, all Malfoy could do was shake his head, "Am I insane for being objective?"
"Are we insane for being biased?" a voice from behind him asked back.
Malfoy turned around, locating the person who answered his question with another question. He rolled his eyes when he realized who it was.
"Yes. Yes you are, Weasley," Malfoy answered.
"It doesn't hurt to hope."
"It doesn't hurt - it kills. But if this is what Potter wants, this is what Potter will get."
Ginny sighed at Malfoy's pragmatism, "So you don't think Neville has even a chance at Voldemort? After all the times he's defied him? After all the times he's escaped from him?"
"Escaping is one thing, Weasley. Killing him is another. There's a reason no one's done it yet. There's a reason that Dumbledore or whatever host of powerful wizards - more powerful than Longbottom - couldn't do it."
"There is a reason. It's called the prophecy," Ginny said with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.
Knowing she was purposely winding him up, Malfoy nonetheless took the bait, "Again - more ridiculousness from a loon. Yes, she's a loon. Everyone thought so and I know you took her classes and had the same thoughts as well."
"But what else do we have? Do you have any other answers for the most terrifying wizard you've ever known? Do you have any solutions for the tower? The best shot we have is that damned prophecy and everything else has come true so far. Why can't this come true?"
Though Malfoy would never admit it, her rhetoric was correct. So far, the prophecy hadn't faltered one bit. Still, Malfoy would rather relive the death of his parents before putting his trust in someone who couldn't even keep Voldemort out of his head.
"Don't think our opinions even matter, Weasley. We're going in this whether either one of us like it or not."
"I know, I'm going along as well."
"You are?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow at this admission.
"Yes," Ginny took offense to his condescending tone, "I've been at war longer than you have, Malfoy."
"No you haven't," Malfoy immediately replied.
"Yes I have," Ginny scoffed, "If you don't remember, I got the damned blue letter long before you even put on your stupid mask."
Ginny almost imagined a faint blush on Malfoy's cheeks but obviously couldn't see it because of his wretched mask.
"And why do you still wear that thing?" Ginny flapped her arms exasperatedly.
"For this precise reason."
"What reason?"
"To annoy people like you."
----------------------------------------
Harry walked into his personal tent and found Hermione pouring over her own set of notes. She was sitting cross-legged on their bed, oblivious to Harry's presence as he entered. He liked that about her. Her focus was unbreakable, over obsessive, and undeniably attractive. The way she blocked out everything else to pursue her goals reminded him of her nearly neurotic need to take care of him when he was faltering. He would never forget her support in that time and intended to repay it in kind.
"What're you looking at?" Harry braved the waters and interrupted her.
"Harry!" Hermione put a hand to her chest, "I didn't even hear you come in."
"I know," Harry chuckled, "I stood here for a couple of seconds hoping you'd notice me, but you seem to be too fixed on whatever you're working on."
"Stuck is more like it," Hermione grumbled as she scooted down the bed to make room for him.
Harry sat next to her, his feet hanging off the side of the bed while she sat cross-legged near the pillows. In front of her was a vast array of sketched and written notes dating back to their days at Hogwarts. Harry could see depictions of the several Horcruxes spread out across the parchment.
"I thought you had all the Horcruxes figured out already?" Harry frowned.
"I thought I did, but something's been bugging me."
"What?"
"Voldemort wanted seven Horcruxes. Not six - seven. Dumbledore told us that much. He's been back all this time. Don't you think he would've made another one?"
"Would we even know if he made one?"
"No, not really, but you think Dumbledore would've at least mentioned it once or at least brought up the possibility of Voldemort creating another Horcrux. But he didn't…"
"And that's what you're working on?"
"It's just an idea that popped into my head."
"Any theories so far?"
"A couple," Hermione's eyes glazed like it usually did when she was deep in thought, "Nothing concrete though."
Harry took a moment before replying, "It's not something we really have control over."
"But it's slightly important if we want to defeat Voldemort," Hermione said exasperatedly.
"As far as we know, Voldemort didn't create another Horcrux. If Dumbledore thought he would, he would've mentioned something. No one knew more about the Horcruxes than he did anyways."
"I suppose," Hermione continued to frown, not really crediting Harry's reasoning.
Sensing that Hermione wasn't going to budge on the subject, Harry decided to change the topic, "But we still have a possible Horcrux in our hands. Don't you think we should work on that instead?"
"It's sitting right there," Hermione pointed her chin at a small pouch sitting on Harry's desk.
Harry hopped off the bed and strode forward to pick up the Horcrux. As his hand closed around the pouch, a cold chill ran through his body, causing him to pause in discomfort. Dropping the small bag, Harry took a step back in confusion. He tried to pick up the bag again but froze as he suddenly heard a hushed, indiscernible whisper.
"Did you hear that?" Harry asked Hermione without turning around, his hand hovering above the bag as he let go again.
"Hear what?" Hermione said disconcertedly.
"Shh…" Harry put a hand to his lips, looking around at nothing in particular as he placed his hand on the bag again.
This time, a sudden rush of images flashed in his head. Harry saw the tower, a cloud of ash, a man whose face looked familiar, and a crying baby. Opening his eyes, Harry discovered he was looking up at a very confused Hermione.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, "Are you okay? You collapsed."
"I'm fine," Harry squeezed her hand in reassurance, "Just…how long was I out for?"
"Just a couple of seconds. You fell on the floor without any warning. Almost hurt yourself," Hermione gingerly touched a growing bump on Harry's head.
"It's okay," Harry said dismissively, "There's something odd with that though," he pointed at the Horcrux.
"I don't mean to startle you, but this might have something to do with it," Hermione placed her hand on his chest and Harry looked down to see what she was doing.
The pebble that hung on a chain around his neck was glowing through the fabric of his brown shirt. Harry pulled the chain so the glowing rock was extracted through the collar of his shirt. Holding it in his hand, Harry looked at Hermione and said, "It's warm to the touch."
"It was glowing while you were knocked out," Hermione kept her eyes on the rock.
Harry closed his hands around the pebble tighter, half-hoping that it would cause some reaction. Nothing happened, however, no matter how tight he squeezed. Twirling it around between his fingers, Harry sat up and looked at his desk. Hermione followed his gaze, already knowing what Harry was thinking.
"Harry…" Hermione said in a warning tone.
"It's tied to the Horcrux," Harry said in an almost excited fashion, "It has to be! I've never…never actually come close to one before."
"I don't think it's a good idea, Harry. Hearing voices is bad but suddenly collapsing on the spot isn't exactly something comforting. What if - what if that's something dangerous?" Hermione pointed at the offending object hanging around his neck.
"Hermione, my dad gave it to me. It can't be something dangerous."
Hermione bit her lip, knowing a retort would be received poorly. Harry was grateful she didn't rebuke him; partly because he was right and partly because he knew that she didn't have a concrete answer.
"What if I -" Harry reached out to touch the Horcrux again, but Hermione sharply grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
"Wait," Hermione cried desperately, "Just - can we at least confirm it's a Horcrux? We are here to destroy the thing after all."
Harry opened but closed his mouth. If she held back a comment about his dad for his sake, the least he could do was confirm the validity of the Horcrux, "Get Neville."
"Okay," Hermione sighed in relief. As she took one step towards the exit, she stopped and turned back to Harry.
"I won't touch it until you get back," Harry cut her off before she could begin.
Hermione looked unsurely at the Horcrux but nodded, "Thank you."
As Hermione left to retrieve Neville, it didn't even occur to Harry that she would be inducing her first conversation with the boy since his attack on her. No - his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of the Horcrux and the pebble his father had given him after his untimely death. Reaching up to softly touch the rock again, Harry wondered whether or not there was more to the rock than it being a simple gift from his father.
Harry had an inkling of suspicion that the pebble wasn't simply a parting gift. He took the chain off his neck and placed it beside him, staring at it and wondering if there were going to be any adverse side effects of taking it off him. But there was no gush of wind or sudden revelation. Harry held out his hand and concentrated on levitating a chair in the far corner of the tent. He could do it easily.
Frowning, Harry continued to look at the pebble curiously. It wasn't the source of his increased power, that much Harry could ascertain. It didn't seem to have a parasitic hold on him which left only one distinct possibility. The rock must be connected to the Horcrux in some manner. Picking up the chain and wrapping it around his neck, Harry looked up as he heard a noise from the entrance of the tent.
Hermione walked inside, her arms crossed in front of her and her eyes down as she quickly walked to Harry's side. Noting that Hermione placed herself slightly behind him as if she was using him as a shield, Harry watched as Neville followed her inside, his feet dragging and his eyes twitchy. Neville was even paler if possible, the blotchy spots on his skin standing out even more.
Harry watched Neville's eyes flitter around the room, taking the surroundings in as he quickly as he could. He watched the other boy's eyes flicker towards the single bed in the room and couldn't help but feel a small amount of manly pride. Squelching it down, Harry opted for a more business-like frame of my mind.
"Neville, the Horcrux is over there," Harry pointed at the bag on his desk, "Since we know the one you took wasn't the real one, we're assuming that this diadem is the actual copy. We need you to make sure."
Neville nodded wordlessly and approached the bag cautiously. He picked it up in his hand and Harry noted that he didn't seem to portray any sort of external discomforts like he did. Absent mindedly touching the pebble, Harry watched as Neville extracted the diadem from the pouch. As Neville closed his hand tightly around the diadem, he closed his eyes and shivered. Placing it softly back on the desktop, Neville nodded to himself.
"It's one of them."
"How do you know?" Harry asked.
"I just know," Neville said harshly.
Harry raised his eyebrows at the sudden response but said nothing. Hermione remained silent, still remaining slightly behind Harry. Deciding that Neville seemed to have the most experience with Horcruxes out of all of them, Harry broached the topic of his previous interaction with the diadem.
"Do you know if the Horcrux would cause anyone else besides you to have a reaction to it?" Harry asked, clearly surprising Neville.
"Just touching it you mean?"
Harry nodded his head in confirmation, remaining purposely ambiguous.
"No," Neville confidently responded, "Only when you try to destroy it."
"I see."
There was an uncomfortable silence as Neville looked at Harry, trying to decide the intentions behind his vague question. Harry's eyes were transfixed on the Horcrux, wondering what connection it had with the object his father gave him.
"Do you mind if I destroy it?"
Neville shifted awkwardly, looking back and forth between the diadem and Harry, "Preferably not. So far, no good has come of those who tried to destroy it."
"We'll get Sirius back, Neville."
"I'm not talking about Sirius. After all, that wasn't a real Horcrux," Neville bluntly replied, feeling more and more confident about denying Harry.
Harry considered the implication but forged on nonetheless, despite Hermione grabbing his hand out of Neville's view.
"What if I told you I had a reaction to the Horcrux."
Neville's jaw nearly dropped open, but he caught himself. Cocking his head, Neville looked at Harry curiously, "What kind of reaction?"
Before Hermione or Neville could stop him, Harry took two giant strides and picked up the diadem.
"NEC POSSUM TECUM VIIVERE, NEC SINE TE!"
Harry opened his eyes and found he was in a similar position as last time, instead now he was looking up at both Hermione and Neville.
"You idiot," she hissed at him.
"I'm fine," Harry grunted as he hauled himself to his feet again, "Did you hear that?"
"Not a thing," Hermione remained angry with him but answered the question.
"Curious," Neville said breathlessly.
"What does it mean?" Harry asked, mostly to Neville.
"I'm not sure. Do you - do you hear anything now? In your head?" Neville paused before the second question.
"No," Harry knew he was referring to Voldemort's intrusions, "Nothing at all now."
"Seems to be only when you have contact with the Horcrux," Hermione muttered, unable to stop herself from commenting, "What do you hear?"
"I heard someone's voice. Something in Latin - might have been a spell. I'm not entirely sure."
"But you can't recognize it? The voice, I mean."
"It's familiar," Harry squinted, trying to push into the recesses of his mind and find a similar voice, "But no, I can't say."
Hermione was silent for a moment before helplessly shrugging, "It doesn't make any sense. Only Neville should have a connection with the Horcruxes."
Harry decided to try something else. He released the chain and took off the pebble this time and handed it to Hermione. Hermione nodded as she realized what he was attempting. Neville looked at the rock in Hermione's hand, but Harry didn't feel like explaining it's origins at the moment. Picking up the diadem, Harry was only mildly surprised that nothing happened.
"It's the pebble," Harry and Hermione said simultaneously.
"What is it?" Neville asked.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, a fearful knowing in both of their eyes.
"We don't know."
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A/N: Update. Some of you should recognize the Latin from an earlier chapter. Big chapter upcoming. Thank you again and leave one.