Semper Solus

- partIII: moving on -

The next morning Harry arrived at the Hogwarts library promptly at 8:00 to find Hermione already engrossed in a book, feverishly taking notes. Without a word he sat across the table from her and opened Secrets of the Dark Arts, which lay as he had left it the night before. They worked silently for nearly an hour before Hermione spoke.

"Harry."

He dropped his quill. Not only was she talking to him, she called him by his first name.

"I'm really sorry I lost my temper yesterday," she said earnestly.

Not able to believe his good fortune, Harry replied, "Er-- don't worry about it. And I'm sorry for being such a... such a..." He struggled to find a good word to use.

"Prat?" Hermione suggested good-naturedly.

"Yes, that sounds about right." He went back to his book.

"I've never been very good at hiding my emotions," Hermione said thoughtfully. Then she added, "Maybe I should take lessons from you."

Harry quickly looked up again; he was relieved to see that she was smiling. He was about to make a sarcastic remark back to her when a different voice interrupted.

"Hello, you two." Remus Lupin stepped from the fireplace, dusting ash from his robes. "Interesting news from the Auror world. We finally got LuciusMalfoy."

Hermione jumped out of her seat, and Harry closed Secrets of the Dark Arts with a bang. But Remus held up a hand. "Don't get too excited - Blaise and Cho killed him."

Frustrated, Harry kicked the leg of the table, but only succeeded in stubbing his toe rather severely. Hermione looked disappointed. "So much for interviewing him," she grumbled, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Pity he wasn't our assignment-- we could have got some useful information out of him. I mean, he was Voldemort's second in command!"

"We're not done with him yet," said Harry slowly as he rubbed his throbbing toe. He was remembering something that had been said to him a full twelve years ago, something regarding the Malfoy manor... Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff... we've got our own secret chamber--

"Under the drawing room floor..." Hermione muttered. She looked up at Harry. "I remember you and Ron telling me about that! I just hope it's still there..."

"There's only one way to find out."

All three of them Flooed to Malfoy manor. Several Ministry officials were examining the mansion and the bodies of a few dead Death Eaters strewn about the hallways. On the luxurious leather couch across the room, Blaise and Cho seemed to be enjoying a celebratory snog.

Harry laughed under his breath. Ten years ago he would have been madly jealous of Blaise. But now, he could honestly say that he didn't care. He had had the privilege of being Cho Chang's boyfriend for a few short months-- but that passed uneventfully, and it had been over for six years.

His past stupidity both amazed and amused him. His crush on Cho went back to his early years at Hogwarts; and it was just that-- a crush. A stupid boyhood crush that started the very first time he'd seen her, when he played against her in Quidditch. He couldn't believe how much time he'd wasted trying to get her to like him back. And just because she was beautiful...

Harry hadn't even known what she was like until they'd started dating. And that was when he realised how rude and blinkered she really was. It wasn't the bossiness that really bothered him, or the fact that she was a near-genius; after all, Hermione was graced with those traits as well. But unlike Hermione, with whom he got along exceptionally well (with the very rare exception), Cho allowed those two traits to be combined into insufferable short-sightedness that Harry wouldn't stand for.

This particularly poisonous narrow-mindedness became evident when the news broke out that Hermione had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. In spite of Dumbledore's trust and Harry's assurances, Cho simply refused to believe that Hermione was simply spying for the Order of the Phoenix. To this day Harry had no idea what drove him to defend Hermione so ardently in front of Cho, but it didn't matter now. It happened, it was in the past-- Harry sided with his best friend and called it quits with the girl he'd been chasing for years.

Watching the busy couple on the couch (Cho seemed to be greatly enjoying Blaise's tongue ring), Harry wondered vaguely whether they would get married.

With a jolt he forced his mind back to reality. What did he care if Blaise and Cho got married? The answer was simple: he didn't, not at all. He had neither time nor reason to waste his brain cells thinking about such trivial things. He turned his attention to the reason he and Hermione had come here in the first place.

"Let's g-- " he started, then realised Hermione wasn't in the room. He walked through the nearest door and found her standing at the fireplace, studying something perched on the mantelpiece. When Harry entered the room she turned quickly around.

"Well," she said with a grin, "finished staring at Cho?"

"I didn't-- I was just looking--" Harry dissented.

"Don't worry; I know that's over with. Have I ever thanked you for sticking up for me, six years ago?"

"Yes, about a thousand times."

"Well, I'll make it a thousand and one-- thanks. It really meant a lot to me."

"Not at all," said Harry. He walked over and grabbed the object Hermione had been looking at. It was a photograph, complete with an elaborate silver frame. His stomach gave an unpleasant turn when he saw the subject of the photo.

Eighteen-year-old Draco Malfoy stared up at Harry, his face frozen in a spiteful, haughty expression except for his cold, grey eyes, which blinked occasionally.

"Finished staring at Malfoy?" Harry asked Hermione teasingly.

Her face turned beet red. "That's over with. I don't know what got into me, in that stupid little flingwith him--"

"Hermione, you said yes. You were engaged."

"I've always liked blonds."

Harry stared at her.

"Oh, come on, you know I'm only kidding. I was on a mission, for Merlin's sake, don't you remember?"

He did remember. In a desperate attempt to get inside information on Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix sent Hermione to 'get together' with Malfoy. But Hermione, in the process, seemed to fall for the cold-hearted cretin. Harry had uncomplainingly accepted this, as it resulted in Malfoy's revelation of Voldemort's Christmas plans, allowing the Order to stop them. Ironically, their relationship also saved Hermione and, however indirectly, Harry, Dumbledore, and Hogwarts itself. Malfoy flouted Voldemort's instructions to kill Hermione, choosing to imprison her instead. Hermione managed to escape from the dungeons of Malfoy manor and arrived just in time to stop Voldemort from killing Harry and Dumbledore, and destroying Hogwarts.

But, upon reflection, Harry had decided that Hermione's so-called 'fling' with Malfoy was nothing but revolting, and he now told her as much.

"What do you want me to say? That I still love him?" Hermione said hotly. "Give it a rest-- it's in the past. I don't even think about it anymore. It was just a few months, exactly what I called it-- a fling. I've moved on. It meant nothing."

With that, she slammed the picture face-down on the mantel. "Oh, that reminds me. I've been meaning to get rid of this." She pulled a ring -an engagement ring, with diamonds and emeralds set in silver-- out of her pocket and dropped it unceremoniously on the back of the overturned photograph. "Let's go."

Harry followed her into the drawing room. "Wingardium leviosa," said Hermione. The elaborate area rug and everything on it was lifted into the air by her powerful levitation charm. Taking small steps, Harry slowly walked around the part of the wooden floor that the rug had covered. One of his steps made a different sound than the others-- he had found a hollow floorboard. Using the Reductor curse, Harry was able to blast away the wooden plank that covered a gaping hole in the floor.

Harry plunged recklessly in; he fell down what seemed to be a nearly vertical stone chute, tearing his robes on bits of jagged rock sticking out from the walls. "Careful, it's sharp," he called up to Hermione and Remus, who descended more carefully than Harry had.

Remus spotted torches hanging on the walls and lit them so that they could see. Harry had never seen so many strange and menacing-looking things; the closest to this place that he had ever been to was Knockturn Alley.

He shivered, unsure whether the cold was caused by the depth of the chamber, or by the evil aura coming from the mysterious objects. His instincts as well as his Auror training told him not to touch anything. However, the others' qualms gave in to their curiosity-- Hermione was unable to resist opening an ancient Dark Arts book that she found, and Remus was staring intently at a box on a shelf.

"Harry, Hermione, come take a look at this."

Hermione set the book down and followed Harry across the chamber. Harry observed the object Remus was looking at. It appeared to be a cube of pure silver, the size of a shoebox. Harry picked it up off its shelf. Judging by its light weight, the box was hollow. Indeed, when he flipped it to one side, they could hear something rattling around inside.

Hermione excitedly voiced the thought that had been running through Harry's head, "What if that's the Orb in there?"

"There's only one way to find out," said Remus. "Open it, Harry."

Harry would have done so, if there had been a way. But every side of the cube was solid silver, not a seam or crack in the entire thing. Harry said, "I don't know how-- you try." He held the box out to Remus, who jumped backwards in alarm. Hermione leapt forward and grabbed it out of Harry's hands.

"Harry! Be careful! You could have killed him!" said Hermione. Seeing the blank look on his face, she said exasperatedly, "Didn't you ever pay attention in school?"

"No," said Harry.

Hermione snorted. "Well, at least you'll admit it. Werewolves are allergic to silver, remember?"

"Oh-- right," said Harry, feeling foolish. "Sorry about that, Remus."

"Don't worry about it," replied Remus faintly.

Meanwhile, Hermione had set the box on the ground and was kneeling beside it.

"Aparecium," she said, tapping a side of the cube three times with her wand. Green ink was spreading across the cube, but it formed neither a lid to the box nor instructions to open it. Instead, all that appeared was a thin ink snake, which wrapped itself once all the way around the cube. Hermione tried to pry the box open along the lines that the image of the snake formed, but it wouldn't budge.

Harry had a sudden inspiration. Crouching down next to Hermione, he looked the tiny snake right in its miniscule eyes. "Open the box," he said, but no words came out. Instead they heard a series of hissing sounds; there was a quick flash of green light as the box split open along the ink snake. A large amount of black smoke billowed from the crack.

"Brilliant," came Remus'svoice through the smoke. "Of course... because only a Parselmouthcould open it-- Voldemort thought he was the only one. He was the only one, in fact, when he created this box-- he hadn't transferred that gift to you, Harry, because you weren't even born yet when he rose to power..."

By now the smoke had cleared, and they could see the contents of Voldemort's magical box. Heart pounding, Harry sifted through pieces of old parchment, searching for the object they'd heard sliding around.

He found it; to his intense disappointment, it wasn't an Orb of any sort. It was a ring, a simple silver band, etched with strange carvings and inscriptions. He set it aside, and rummaged through the box again. There was nothing else but parchment in it. He picked up a piece-- it wasn't even in English. It was some sort of message, written in strange, spiky characters rather than in letters.

Discouraged, he picked up the ring again and examined it. It seemed quite ordinary-- of course, he knew an object coming from Voldemort's box must be anything but ordinary. Throwing caution to the winds, he placed the ring on his finger. Nothing happened. Baffled, he handed the ring to Hermione, who was examining some of the parchment papers.

She looked at the ring; to Harry's surprise, she raised her eyebrows in an expression of deep interest. "Wait-- wait a moment, I'll be right back!" She tossed the ring back to Harry and, using the jagged rocks protruding from the wall as footholds, climbed back up the chute.

She returned a minute later. Excitedly she held something out to Harry in her hand, which was bloody from climbing the sharp stones. It was the engagement ring. Harry turned it over in his hand, comparing it to the ring that they had just found.

"The carvings are identical," said Hermione. Harry looked more closely-- she was quite right. "I wonder if it means anything."

"I have no idea. Is there anything we can do with these?" He gestured to the parchment documents littering the floor.

Hermione picked up one of the pieces of parchment she had been studying earlier. "It's a rune," she said, waving it in front of Harry's face. "Judging by the style, it was written relatively recently-- no more than fifty years ago, I'm sure..."

"Fifty years ago... that's when Voldemort was away, supposedly making himself immortal," said Harry slowly.

"Exactly," said Hermione with an excited smile. "I've only studied Ancient Runes, not modern ones, but I think I can still translate it, with a little time in the library."

Harry wondered exactly how many days or weeks she meant by "a little time" in the library.

"These ones are in Latin," said Remus from across the room. "I can translate them for you, if you want."

"That would be great-- thanks, Remus," said Hermione gratefully. She stooped down, gathering all the runes from the floor. Straightening up again, she said to Harry, "Well, come on, then! Let's go."

Slipping the rings into his pocket, he followed her back up the stone chute. They Floo-ed back to the Hogwarts library. Hermione dumped her armload of parchment onto the table, which was starting to become quite cluttered with their research. She then dashed off to the Runes section, and later returned with a teetering stack of books, which she slammed onto the table.

Deciding to leave the Runes work to Hermione, Harry opened the book that he had taken from the Malfoys' chamber (Spells for the Elite and Evil). It was an immense tome-- it would probably take him days to read through. Scowling, he looked up, hoping to see some distraction that would delay his having to read it.

But the first thing he saw was Hermione, patiently studying the rune and flipping through various rune dictionaries. This had the opposite effect that Harry had hoped for. Look how hard Hermione's working, he told himself fiercely. You've got to help her if you ever want to kill Voldemort. Without further hesitation he started on the first chapter of Spells for the Elite and Evil.

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"Sorry I'm late." Harry strode into Remus's living room to find Remus, Hermione, and Professor Dumbledore all sitting around the empty fireplace. All three of them were smiling.

"What were you talking about?" Harry asked casually.

"You," said Hermione.

Not sure whether she was teasing, Harry simply sat down in the nearest tattered armchair.

"So," said Dumbledore, his eyes still twinkling as he watched Harry. "What's this information you wanted to share with us?"

"We think we've got the Orb of Slytherin," Hermione said excitedly. She spread some rolls of parchment out on the coffee table in front of them. "I translated these runes-- they more or less tell us where the Orb is and how to get it, though it's a bit vague. And Harry thinks he's found the spell used to create the Orb."

Harry pulled a crumpled parchment from his pocket, flattened it out on the table, and started to read the words he'd carefully copied from Spells for the Elite and Evil.

"The House of the Soul charm is one of the most complicated, difficult, and little-known spells in existence. It is a relatively recent discovery, as the spell is said to be created by an anonymous wizard in the 1950s in Eastern Europe. The House of the Soul charm involves transforming an object to become a vessel in which the life of one individual is stored, usually the person performing the charm. The aforesaid individual will only die when the vessel is destroyed. The charm, which is irreversible without destroying the soul vessel, can be used on any human and any solid object."

"We're safely assuming the 'anonymous wizard' was Voldemort-- I mean, we know he was in Eastern Europe in the 1950s, and the spell's name is in English, not Latin or French or any other language," added Hermione.

"Brilliant," murmured Dumbledore, "of course, we knew he couldn't be killed by Avada Kedavra-- or else he would have died twenty-three years ago. We tried everything-- poisons, other spells, even Muggleweapons. We thought Lord Voldemort was immortal..."

"But he's not," said Hermione triumphantly. She picked up a translated rune and read aloud:

"In a deep black wood
Amid northern snow and ice
Not far from frigid sea
And castle dark and old
Is the spot which holds the door
To the core of my existence
But the door will only be opened
While the night sky is most like day
The magic that protects it
Not understood by the rest
To guarantee my longevity
With no fear of my own end
Behind the door resides my only friend
Jujenaj, long eluding all others
My only friend, at my command
The first test among many
The key to the door of which I speak
Has been hidden along with this
But its sister remains lost among
Those who do not understand her
I performed all this perfectly
Unlike others before me
My new spell can assure forever
That I will not know mortal death."

She folded up the parchment. "It actually rhymed when it was in Rune form," Hermione scoffed. "Voldemort the poet. Well, he sure thinks a lot of himself, doesn't he?"

Harry, marvelling at the vagueness of the rune, wondered how Hermione had got any useful information out of Voldemort's boasts.

Nearly glowing with enthusiasm, Hermione launched into her explanation. "The real giveaway was the part about the Jujenaj. I went and looked it up-- he was a mythical creature, never seen by any Muggleor wizard. But here's the thing-- it was said to inhabit only one location-- a forest..." She shifted her parchments around to reveal a large map of Europe and pointed to a spot, labelled with flashing purple ink, which appeared to be a tiny island in the Arctic Ocean.

She paused, looking pleased with herself. "Not understood by the rest," she quoted. "That must mean the Parseltongue protections he placed-- really lucky we've got you, Harry. The door will only be opened while the night sky is most like day. My guess is that this 'door' is only open at the full moon. I have no idea what the bit about the keys means. And the rest fits with the spell Harry just found."

Harry stared at her, flabbergasted. He'd known Hermione was clever, but this was just unbelievable.

"Well done, both of you," said Dumbledore. His expression became grave. "There is only one thing left to do now, and that is to find the Orb and destroy it. If this is only possible at the full moon, as you believe, then you should set out immediately to give yourselves time enough to find the specific spot. The next full moon is close at hand-- am I correct, Remus?"

Remus nodded. "This coming Friday." He looked as though he was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to help them. He turned to Hermione. "Did you read about what the Jujenaj is?"

Hermione shook her head. "I only read that it was a feared Dark creature. And the book said it was just a legend, that it didn't exist."

"I myself thought it was a legend-- but apparently, Jujenaj is real," Remus said slowly. "To say it is to be feared is quite an understatement. According to the version of the legend that I heard, it has magical powers equal to that of a real human wizard. It is small, quick, and agile. But the biggest problem is that it is invisible."

"Invisible?" Hermione echoed.

Harry swallowed. This was starting to sound impossible. Hermione looked slightly pale.

"It will be difficult," said Dumbledore. Nothing like stating the obvious, Harry thought. "Voldemort surely must have spent a great deal of time and energy protecting the Orb. But I have complete faith in your abilities. My only regret is that in my age, I'm not able to accompany you."

His light blue eyes moved slowly from Harry, to Hermione, and back again. "Harry."

Harry looked solemnly at his old Headmaster, who said, "You are a very great gifted and powerful wizard, more like Godric Gryffindor than anyone I have met." Harry couldn't believe he was hearing this from Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the past century and a half. "I promise you, Harry, that you can do anything you set your mind to."

Dumbledore looked once again at Hermione. "And Hermione... of course. The most brilliant student to attend Hogwarts since Tom Riddle himself. But do not forget that you are a Gryffindor as well." Hermione blushed furiously.

"Your separate talents complement each other. Your teamwork will prevail," Dumbledore continued, "as it has always done in the past." Hermione and Harry locked eyes briefly; she gave him a warm but edgy smile. Harry's stomach flipped-- I must be getting nervous, too, he thought. He certainly was feeling a bit queasy.

Dumbledore stood and shook Harry's and Hermione's hand. Then, without a word, he left the room. Harry realised with a jolt that he may never again see his old Headmaster...

"We should leave tomorrow," Hermione said, trying and failing to sound laid-back and not at all apprehensive about the gargantuan task ahead of them.

Harry nodded; in unison they stood up to leave. "Wait a moment, Harry, I want a word before you go," said Remus. "Hermione--" Remus crossed the room to where she stood and shook her hand briskly. "Good luck, and Godspeed." Hermione managed another weak smile before walking out the door.

"Have a seat, Harry." Harry sat down across from Remus, who asked him, "Who is Hermione Granger?"

Harry stared; Remus stared intensely back at him. The question seemed like some sort of test-- and Harry had no idea how to answer, so he said the first things that popped into his head.

"Er-- she's my Auror partner... a brilliant witch, a genius, really..."

Remus sighed. Evidently, Harry's answer was not what he wanted to hear. There was an uneasy silence before Remus spoke again.

"I can't make you see how you feel, Harry. But never forget that your heart can't lie-- no matter how much you contradict your feelings in your mind, your heart will always win that battle, it's always right.

"No matter how much you want to think it, Harry, love is not a weakness. The only one who truly believes that is Lord Voldemort. You may think you believe it too. But you will find that your heart doesn't accept that idea, and your heart is what counts."

Harry stood abruptly, frowning. This was no time to be talking about emotions-- in three days' time he'd have his chance to destroy Voldemort once and for all. This was no time to start being all sad and pathetic. "I'd best be going," he said curtly. "I've got a big day tomorrow."

"Wait." Remus grabbed his arm and with his other hand pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harry.

Harry looked at it. It was written in Latin; the English translation, in Remus's neat writing, had been squeezed between the lines and in the margins. It read:

The two depart together, yet separate
In a rush of scarlet wings
Followed by trails of gold
Leaving their cold, black pasts behind
The two innocents hunt out their predator
To carry out life's plan for them
To avenge the long-since lost
Like brother and sister they start their journey

Here the paper was torn, as though the words he saw were only half of the whole thing.

"Merlin's Seventy-ninth Prediction," Remus explained. "I know you and Hermione were never exactly Divination prodigies, so disregard it if you wish. But I won't. And we don't know the ending yet. You'll make it a good ending, right?"

Harry nodded, mainly to appear more confident than he felt.

"Of course you will," said Remus. "Good luck, and Godspeed. You know," he paused, as though thinking of what to say next. "I think I'm as proud of you as your father and Sirius are-- if that's possible." He gave Harry a small smile.

"Thanks for everything, Remus." Harry shook his hand appreciatively.

"Anything for the greatest Auror ever."

Harry glowered at him.