Draco: Phoenix Rising

Chapter Twenty One - Speculation

They Apparated into Hogsmeade close to the Shrieking Shack where Harry had once pelted Draco with snowballs from the safety of his Invisibility Cloak. Draco wondered if she had chosen the spot merely for the bad memory.

He stepped out of her grasp immediately.

"Absolutely not. I am not going up there."

"Why not? You've certainly proven yourself. If I no longer want to kill you, everyone else should have no problem accepting you."

"Everyone else? I doubt that. Your friend Potter has despised me since the first moment we met."

"Well... Harry's a special case. But, he's not unreasonable. I'll talk to him. He'll be fine," she said placatingly.

"You're quite a wretched liar," he said. She flushed.

"You have to do this sooner or later. We can't keep hiding out together forever."

"Why not? I'm starting to like it," he said snidely, twisting the words into a lie. Her eyes flashed.

"Well, I'm not. The Death Eaters could return at any time. My parents' house is simply not safe, and now we have to dispose of that." She gestured at the cup still clasped in Draco's hand. "Since we have no idea how to accomplish it, we need Harry's help."

Draco sneered. "Yes, I'm quite sure The Chosen One will have no problem figuring that out."

"You are not helping your cause with that attitude!"

"I don't have a cause!"

"You most certainly do. After the past three days you can't even pretend you don't care. You do not want Voldemort to win any more than we do or you wouldn't have taken so many chances."

She stepped close to him and gripped his jacket in a fist as if to hold him in place. Her voice was soft and heartfelt.

"Look, Malfoy, you came to me and I know it had to be bloody hard for you. Maybe the hardest thing you've ever done. Can you look at me now and tell me you regret making that choice?"

He looked into her sincere brown eyes and her dirty face and tangled hair and tried to remember how he used to feel about her. The horrible little Know-It-All that had treated him like the lowest vermin was gone, replaced by this maddening, earnest, hopeful girl who looked at him with undeserved faith.

"You're completely mad," he whispered.

"We're not talking about me."

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you have complete confidence in me. I'm not worth your trust."

"You're quite an excellent liar," she said dryly. "But, I can make my own decisions. Now, are you coming willingly, or shall I hex you and drag you there unconscious?"

The steel in her voice warned him that she was serious. He made one last effort to dissuade her.

"Can we at least return to Caerphilly and have one last shower?"

She laughed in surprise. "No. If you're concerned about being dirty, I can fix that." She tapped him with her wand and he felt the dust strip away from his flesh and hair.

"Ouch!"

"Infant. Here, I'll do it, too." She cast the spell on herself and an unseen force seemed to envelop her. The dirt disappeared and her hair crackled with cleanliness. Her jumper was sparkling white again. Draco was almost sorry to see the smudge on her cheek go.

"You're right. That does sting."

He set his jaw, but refrained from comment. "What do you plan to do with this?" He held up the golden cup and examined it. The engraved badger was as ugly as all the Hufflepuff crests he had ever seen. "Wretched, hideous thing. No wonder the Dark Lord hid it in a broken down shack. A badger. What a grotesque creature."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, snakes are ever so much more pleasant and cuddly."

"I'm glad you recognize that."

She conjured a leather pouch and held it open for Draco to tuck the cup inside. She slung the strap over her shoulder.

"By the way, no one knows anything about Horcruxes except you, me, Harry and Ron. We'd like to keep it that way."

Draco's brow raised and he tsked disapprovingly.

"Keeping secrets from the Order? How very un-Gryffindor-like."

"Hush. Now come along. No more stalling." She took his arm and towed him toward the path that led to the school.

"You can let go of me, you know."

"No, I can't. I don't have the time to track you down if you disappear."

He was surprised. "You would come after me?"

"Someone has to save you from yourself."

He scowled. That wasn't at all the answer he'd expected.

They walked until the Hogwarts' gates came into view and then Hermione cast a Patronus. Draco watched the silver otter streak toward Hogwarts. Her Patronus was interesting. He wasn't as surprised by it as he would have been a few days ago. He now knew a mischievous, playful person was hidden under all that bossy, overbearing intelligence.

When they reached the gates, they waited.

"What is your Patronus?" she asked curiously. Draco flushed. He hated his Patronus, which was why he seldom cast the spell. It was terribly embarrassing and there were other ways to deal with dementors.

"Never mind."

"Why? Is it something horrible? Like a ferret?"

He glared at her. "Very funny. No. It is not a ferret."

"Well, I thought you made a very cute ferret. I wanted to put you in a cage and take you to my room and feed you ferret treats."

He groaned. "Oh, that would have been pleasant."

She smiled broadly. Professor McGonagall was approaching. Draco drew back, but Hermione's grip on his arm tightened.

"You'll be fine," she murmured.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said in surprise, gaping at Draco through the bars of the gate. She made no move to open it. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Malfoy has decided to join us in the war against Voldemort, Professor," she stated briskly. "We already owe him a great debt." Draco shut his eyes at her words. Surely she could have done better than that?

"This is never going to work," he murmured to Hermione. She kicked his ankle slightly and he winced. McGonagall's sharp gaze narrowed at the exchange.

"What are you talking about? Are you under an Imperius Curse?"

The question seemed to strike Hermione as funny. She giggled and looked at Draco playfully.

"Am I? Can you even cast an Imperius Curse?"

"Of course I can," he said hotly. "What kind of minion of the Dark Lord would I be if I couldn't cast a simple Unforgivable?"

"Well, you never really were a minion of the Dark Lord, or you wouldn't be here right now, would you?"

"A minor detail."

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall burst out, snapping them out of their conversation.

"Sorry, Professor. You need to know that Draco was responsible for the rescue of Neville Longbottom last night. He also warned us of the attack on Luna Lovegood and my parents, in time to save them both."

"You can prove this, of course?" McGonagall said dryly.

"Tonks can vouch for him," Hermione said confidently.

"Tonks?"

"Feel free to ask her. We'll wait."

McGonagall seemed to be having a difficult time processing Hermione's words, but the sight of Hermione clinging to Draco's arm apparently decided her. She cast a Patronus that sped southward.

"Is there any news of Neville?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"He is awake and should recover. He was given the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly, but hopefully not enough to do permanent damage." She glared at Draco. Guilty by association, he supposed.

"So, what possessed you to change sides, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked as though she thought it more likely that the sun would suddenly turn into a pink parasol. Draco shrugged.

"I was bored. All that torturing, killing, and groveling before the Dark Lord got old fairly quickly."

Hermione elbowed him and gave him one of her patented looks of annoyance.

"Can you be serious?"

"No. And frankly, I'd rather not be here at all. McGonagall doesn't want to let me in, I do not want to go in, so how about you just let me Disapparate and we will all be satisfied?"

"Absolutely not," she said adamantly. Draco wanted to beat his head against the bars in frustration.

Tonks did better than send a reply. She Apparated. Her pink hair looked brilliant in the sunlight. She grinned at them brightly.

"Wotcher, Hermione. Cousin Draco," she said.

"Nymphadora," McGonagall said and Draco saw her wince at the name. "Is it true that Draco Malfoy assisted in the rescue of Neville Longbottom?"

Tonks nodded happily. "Yeah. He was brilliant. You should have seen him after Hermione was knocked out. Fought like a lion. Nice to see someone in the family has found some sense."

Draco looked smugly at McGonagall and raised a single brow. Her expression didn't change.

"Very well, Miss Granger. I shall hold you responsible for his behavior."

Draco looked at Hermione as if pleased at the thought. She gave him a warning stare. McGonagall tapped the lock and it clicked open. The chain slithered through the bars and she pushed one gate open for them to enter. Draco felt suddenly claustrophobic. There was no easy way out of Hogwarts; he wanted to bolt for freedom. Only Hermione's steadying presence and her unrelenting grip on his arm kept him from doing so. She pulled him through the gate.

The walk to the school felt like a march to the gallows. Hermione had the role of serene cleric, secure in the belief that Draco was going to a better place. McGonagall was like the judgmental victim, stoically waiting to see justice done. And Tonks was a curious bystander--unconcerned, but happy to watch events unfold. She babbled to McGonagall the entire way, mostly about trivial happenings at the Ministry.

They entered the Entrance Hall and Hermione finally released Draco. Tonks and McGonagall threw them a curious look, but ascended the staircase and left them alone.

"I'm going to find Harry. Do you want to go to the Slytherin common room and settle in?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll go with you."

She looked concerned.

"That might not be the best idea. I should talk to them, first."

"I refuse to hide behind your skirts," he said coldly.

"I'm not wearing a skirt."

"Lead on, Granger. Let's see if your precious Potter is as understanding as you think he is."

"Must you always be so difficult?"

"Is there another way?"

She threw her hands up. "Fine. Do everything the hard way." She looked at him critically. "I like the trench coat, but it doesn't look right here at Hogwarts." Without asking permission, she transfigured his coat back into a black cloak, though not the Death Eater robes they had been originally. She turned her white jumper into a short cape of Gryffindor red.

It took them a surprisingly long time to find Potter and the Weasel. First they walked up to the seventh floor to find the Gryffindor opening barred because Hermione did not know the password. The ugly portrait informed her that no one was within.

They went next to the library, against Draco's advice that Potter and Weasley wouldn't be caught dead in a library unless Hermione dragged them there. He gave her a satisfied smirk when his prediction was validated.

"Try the kitchen," Draco suggested. "Weasley seems to be inordinately fond of stuffing himself when the food is free."

Hermione's face went red and she turned on him. "We've been here less than a half hour and I'm already not liking you again!"

He grinned laconically. "Your lying hasn't improved."

"Oh, shut up!"

They were descending the central staircase when Harry and Ron exited the Great Hall. Hermione spotted them first.

"Harry!" she cried. She leaped down the last few stairs and flung herself at Potter's neck. Draco watched Potter's arms go around her and he felt his jaw clench slightly.

She released Harry and pounced on Weasley, who held her far too tightly and far too long. Potter caught sight of Draco, who hadn't moved from his position on the steps. Harry's wand was out and leveled in a heartbeat. Draco wondered if The Chosen One stood in front of the mirror and practiced wand brandishing. Draco left his own wand tucked into his cloak, knowing Mr. Gryffindor Nobility wouldn't dare hex him while he was unarmed.

"What's he doing here?" Weasley yelled. He had not removed his arm from around Hermione's neck. Rather possessive gesture, Draco thought. To her credit, she shook off Weasley and hurried back up to stand next to Draco.

"Put your wand away, Harry," she ordered. "Malfoy will be working with us from now on."

"Fat chance!" Harry snapped, drowning whatever nasty comment had spilled from Weasley's lips.

"I'll give you the details later, but without his help, Luna would be lost, Neville would still be a prisoner and we would not have this." She opened her pouch and held up Hufflepuff's cup.

"Is that--?"

"A Horcrux, yes."

"You told him?" Harry yelled. Draco reflected that her friends certainly bellowed a lot when they were upset. It must be a Gryffindor trait. Slytherins tended to go the opposite way and retreat into enraged hissing, baleful glares, and hateful get-even pranks. The Gryffindor way was louder, but quicker.

"He already knew!" Hermione shouted back, getting into the spirit.

"I'll bet he did! He's probably been sent to take them from us once we recover them!" Harry snarled.

"That's ridiculous." She dropped the cup back into the pouch and continued matter-of-factly, "Now, we all need to set aside our differences and work on the problem at hand, which is the destruction of this cup and the location of the other items."

"Set aside our differences?" Ron bellowed. "Have you gone completely mental? Don't you remember who was responsible for letting the Death Eaters into this school? It's his fault Dumbledore is dead! He nearly killed Katie Bell, he nearly killed me, and he got Bill mauled by that demented werewolf!"

Draco grinned and wondered how Granger would counter that one. Potter was nodding like a china doll with a broken neck. Hermione rose to the challenge.

"He only did those things to save his parents. If you were in that situation, Ronald, you might have done the same!"

Weasley's eyes were cold. "No, I really don't think I would. And I can't believe you're defending him!"

Potter spoke up in a scathing tone. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself, Malfoy? Going to let Hermione do all the talking for you?"

Draco smiled coldly, but his blood boiled at the very idea of explaining himself to Potter. He managed to keep his voice even.

"She likes to talk, as you may have noticed. Frankly, I don't give a fucking damn about your opinion, Potter. I don't owe you any explanations and I have no intention of trotting out my actions for your narrow-minded, judgmental, Gryffindor perusal. You've made up your mind about me and I have definitely made up my mind about you, so let's acknowledge our mutual hatred and move on to the task at hand. The sooner we destroy the Dark Lord's trinkets, the sooner you and he can get on with the job of eradicating each other and the sooner the rest of us can get back to our lives."

Potter's green eyes fairly sparkled with rage. Weasley couldn't even speak and his face was so red his freckles were invisible.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" Hermione hissed. Her voice was heavy with reproach. Draco was suddenly sick to death of Gryffindors. Hermione and her bloody ideals! What had she expected? That he, Potter, and Weasley would embrace like brothers? He decided to spoil her naiveté.

"Yes, I think it was," he said icily. "But, thank you for trying."

With that, he reached out and slung an arm around her waist. He pulled her tightly against him and then leaned down to plant a kiss on her astonished mouth. He took his time about it, figuring he might as well die for a pound as a penny. Intending to chastise her, he tasted her lingeringly, letting his tongue glide over her lips in exquisite torment. His senses were suddenly overcome with the feel, scent, and taste of her. His own pulse quickened, which was not at all what he'd intended.

She was too stiff with shock to respond. Of all the risks he'd taken in the past few days, kissing Hermione Granger with a wand in her hand in full view of her two protectors ranked quite high up on the list.

He nibbled her bottom lip with his teeth, wishing the moment didn't have to end so soon, and then released her and stepped back. Her eyes had an incredulous, glazed look and she barely seemed to be breathing. He felt a bit dazed himself.

"You know where I'll be," he said dryly and stepped lightly down the stairs.

The horrified stasis that held Potter and Weasley was broken by Ron's cry of pure rage.

"You bastard!"

Draco didn't pause, although he flicked a glance at Weasley. To his amusement, Potter reached out and grabbed Ron's arm before he could level a crazed spell at Draco.

"Better keep your pet on a leash, Potter," he said as he passed them. "He's liable to get hurt." He chuckled slightly as he took the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon and left the Gryffindors behind. Hermione was likely to hate him again after that display and Draco was both relieved and disappointed by the notion. It was back to status quo: Draco against the Gryffindor trio. He sighed. Bloody hell. Kissing her had been far better than he'd imagined...

* * * * *

Hermione was too shocked to move. Draco's kiss was intense--searching, teasing, and altogether electrifying. In the space of two heartbeats she felt so weak she could barely stand and every coherent thought was overwhelmed by the feel of him pressed hard against her and taste of him upon her mouth.

She nearly staggered when he released her to sweep down the stairs without a backward glance. She stared after him in bemusement as he stalked past Ron and Harry. She vaguely noticed Ron leap at Draco, to be stopped by Harry. Her eyes followed his platinum head as it disappeared above a billow of black cloak.

Only when her gaze drifted back to meet Harry's stormy emerald orbs did reality snap back into place. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. Harry ascended the stairs until he stood next to her.

"I hope you have a bloody good explanation for that," he said and walked away. Ron trailed after him and looked at her with angry disgust.

"Kissing Draco Malfoy?" he spat. "What the hell have you two been doing? Who the hell are you?" He stormed after Harry and she glanced at the dungeon entrance. At the moment, she would have much preferred to run after Draco than follow her two enraged companions.

Why had he kissed her? Merely to annoy Harry and Ron? Was there more to it than that? At the Riddle house, she had thought he was going to kiss her, but the moment passed and she was certain she had imagined it...

She sighed shakily and shook off her preoccupation with Malfoy. Hermione never knew what to expect from him, anyway. There could be a reason for his action or it could merely have been an impulsive amusement. She hurried after Harry and Ron. She caught up with them on the fifth floor while they waited for the staircase to shift.

"Look, I know this is hard. It's going to be difficult for you to accept Malfoy--maybe even impossible, but we need all the help we can get," Hermione said. "It wasn't easy for me, either."

"Really?" sneered Ron. "You didn't seem to be fighting all that hard."

"All he did was kiss me, Ronald! I suppose I should have turned him into a mongoose?" she snapped.

"Yes!" Ron yelled.

"Well, I'm certain he only did it to irritate you and look, it worked! We've been through hell in the past two days and I don't think I'd have made it without his help, and Neville certainly wouldn't have. I don't expect you to think he's changed, but there is more to Draco Malfoy than that annoying façade he constantly projects."

"Tonks would have rescued Neville," Harry said doggedly as he stepped onto the stair.

"Oh really? Right after Dobby and Kreacher disappeared? You think she could have taken on all the Death Eaters by herself? Even I was taken unawares. If Malfoy planned to betray us, he could have left us both there with Neville."

"I don't want to hear another word about Saint Malfoy!" Harry decided loudly. Ron nodded eager agreement.

"Fine!" she yelled. "Bury your head in the sand and don't accept help where it's offered! No one else is going to be able to tell us about the Death Eaters or what Voldemort might be doing next. Perhaps you should think about that instead of clinging to your childish hatred!"

She stormed away.

"Childish?" Harry exclaimed after her.

"I'll be in the library if you two should care to grow up!" she called as a parting shot.

They arrived in the library some twenty minutes later. Hermione was nearly obscured behind a stack of dusty tomes.

"Find anything?" Harry asked sheepishly.

She shook her head. "Not a single reference to a Horcrux. I think I'm going to have to go back farther. Maybe the Runic Scrolls will have some mention of who invented them. It would give us somewhere to start, at least. If we knew how they were made, maybe we could determine how to destroy one."

"I know how they are made. Well, not the spell, but the process. It's created by a murder, so it isn't like you can undo it."

Hermione sighed. "No. Maybe it's more like an exorcism--to release the soul trapped inside the object. If nothing else, we may have to apply the Mordor solution. I don't see how that could fail."

"What's the Mordor solution?" Ron asked grudgingly.

"Throw it into a live volcano," Harry replied.

"We don't have a lot of those in England."

"We don't have a lot of those anywhere close by," Hermione said. "So, hopefully, we can find a more viable solution. Let me try in the religious and clerical section. You two keep checking these. I'd rather save translating scrolls from Ancient Runic for a last resort."

She headed back into the rows of shelves.

* * * * *

Draco became rapidly bored sitting in the Slytherin common room alone. He thought about contacting Hermione by coin, but wasn't certain how she would react. He decided to go do some research on his own.

When he entered the library, he was somewhat annoyed to see Potter and Weasley already there. Weasley was lounging in a window seat, flipping through a large book that rested on his lap and looking as if he would rather be boiled in oil. Potter sat at a table, surrounded by books. Hermione was nowhere in sight, which was not a good sign. Perhaps she was more upset than he'd expected.

Harry said nothing, just looked at him through cool green eyes.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron said venomously.

Draco smiled lazily.

"Where's Granger?" he asked simply to observe Ron's reaction. It was better than expected.

"You leave her alone!" he yelled, tossing the book aside and leaping to his feet.

Draco tsked. "Don't be surprised that she prefers me to you, Weasel. Have you looked in the mirror, lately? You've had six years to win her over, but I suppose you did your best. Only took me two days, but that's to be expected, eh?"

"You'd better shut your face, Malfoy, before I shut it for you!"

Draco sighed. "Your threats haven't improved, either. Still as empty as ever."

"Did you just come here to be your usual unpleasant self, Malfoy?" Harry interjected. Draco's gaze shifted to Potter, who looked surprisingly unperturbed.

"No. I wasn't expecting company," he admitted.

"Feel free to do what you came to do, then, and stop baiting Ron."

"If you were looking for Hermione, she's not here," Ron interjected. "She's most likely washing her mouth out with strong soap."

Weasley's retort was laughable. Draco decided to let the matter drop. For Hermione's sake, he would even make a peace overture.

"Relax, Weasel. I only kissed her to get your dander up. You know I'd never sully myself with a Mudblood."

He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see Hermione standing behind him with her arms laden with books. Her eyes were wide and horrified. Draco felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Tears swam in her brown eyes and she slapped the books on the nearest table and fled into the library recesses.

Draco took two steps after her and stopped, conscious of her friends' eyes upon him. Several choice curse words rolled through his mind. He had purposely tried to hurt her for six long years, yet he had cut her most deeply when he least intended to.

He forced a cold smile attainable only through years of habit and sat down before the stack of books. He ignored Potter and Weasley to crack open a tome. He turned page after page without seeing a word.

Hermione returned, marched past Draco without a glance, and sat down across from Harry. Ron hurried over to sit next to her.

"All right," she said briskly. "Now that we're all here, we can start coming up with some ideas." Her voice was steady, but Draco caught the wounded undertone. She conjured a piece of parchment and a quill. "What do we know about Horcruxes? We'll go down the list, starting with Who. The first Who, obviously, is Voldemort. I think we need to focus on the other Whos, such as those that know--or knew--about them. Professor Slughorn knew, as he gave Tom Riddle information, even though Voldemort had originally learned about them from another source. I don't think we'll ever learn that, but we may be able to determine where Slughorn learned of them. Was it something he read, some arcane knowledge passed down through his ancestors, or some other means? If it comes down to it, we may have to confront him." She jotted down several notes.

"The next person of interest is Severus Snape. He seems to know about them, probably from Dumbledore, but possibly not. For all we know, Snape is the one who told Dumbledore. We're not likely to find out which."

Draco left off pretending to read and walked closer to the window to lounge in an overstuffed chair. He threw one leg over the arm of the chair and toyed idly with his wand. Hermione's voice did not pause.

"The next Who is Regulus Black. He not only learned about Horcruxes, but he learned about Voldemort's Horcruxes. Somehow, he managed to steal one. We have too many unanswered questions, here. How did he find out? He said he knew Voldemort's secret, but why would that turn him from being a Death Eater? Sirius said he got in over his head and tried to back out--because of what he was being asked to do."

"Wrong," Draco said in a bored tone. Hermione hushed and three pairs of eyes turned to him. He twirled his wand, weaving it through his fingers in a blur. He shrugged. "Regulus was a typical Black, nasty, bloodthirsty and obsessed with fanatical pureblood idealism. Sirius was the aberration--which got him disowned."

The others said nothing, although Ron had made a snorting sound at "pureblood idealism." Draco went on. "Regulus had no qualms whatsoever about the dirty deeds the Dark Lord requested of him. I don't think the Horcruxes would have bothered him overmuch, either. Actually, the nasty little secret that Regulus discovered was the fact that his fabulous new Lord and Master was Muggle-born. Regulus had been raised from birth with the idea that purebloods were royalty and everyone else was fodder. Can you imagine how horrified and betrayed he would have felt to find he'd sold his soul to one he believed to be unworthy scum? From what I hear, Mum Black would have Crucioed him at the very idea. You notice none of the other Blacks were standing in line to become Death Eaters? It was beneath their social circle to begin with. Regulus thumbed his nose at his family just to join up. It would have been unforgivable for them to discover the Dark Lord was a Mudblood. I think Regulus went a bit mad at the news and that is what set him down the path to destroy everything the Dark Lord stood for."

"How do you know all this?" Harry asked.

"Regulus was my mother's favorite cousin. They spent loads of time together. I think he was half in love with her, even though she was six years older and already dating my father. She was devastated when he disappeared, but she knew why. She said as young as he was, he was devilishly clever. He apparently invented more Dark Arts spells than his friend Severus Snape."

"They were friends?" Hermione actually spoke. He took that as encouragement.

"As close as two egocentric, overachieving loners can get. Apparently, the main thing they had in common was a deep and abiding hatred for James Potter and Sirius Black."

Harry was incredulous. "Regulus hated Sirius? His own brother?"

"You find that hard to believe? Regulus was the golden boy of the Black family, happily clinging to tradition and the Dark Arts. Sirius was the outcast, defiantly befriending werewolves and Muggle-borns, disregarding everything his family stood for. Regulus was two years younger. When he came to Hogwarts, Potter and his gang tormented him mercilessly. He embraced the Dark Arts partly in self-defense."

"Where did he learn about Voldemort's Horcruxes?"

Draco nodded. "I've been thinking about that and I have a theory. I think it likely that Bellatrix Lestrange spilled the beans." He stopped twirling his wand and sat forward, warming to his subject at the novelty of having three Gryffindors intently hanging on his words. "Bella is the most rabid of the Dark Lord's followers. To the point of insanity, as we all know. She prides herself in being the most loyal, most trusted, most favored. Now, picture young Regulus joining up--just as fanatical, at first, but by all accounts far more talented. Ruthless and creative--a combination the Dark Lord would recognize and cultivate. Bellatrix would have been furious. She was always jealous of Regulus, according to Mother. I believe the Dark Lord gave a Horcrux to Bella. Whether she was to hide it or guard it is anyone's guess. She may not even have known what it was, other than the fact that it was precious to the Dark Lord. Bella, being overwhelmingly pleased at this sign of trust, probably hurried straight to Regulus to boast about her favored status. And Regulus, being quite a lot smarter than Bellatrix, would have known exactly what it was. As soon as he learned the Dark Lord's dirty little secret, he would have made use of that knowledge."

Hermione shook her head. "If he was so clever, how was he caught and killed so quickly?"

Draco sighed. "That always bothered me. I've never been convinced he was killed. If anyone could cheat death and fool the Dark Lord, it would have been Regulus Black."

"But, wouldn't he have come out of hiding once Voldemort disappeared?"

"Not if he was living like a king in Fiji. He may have chucked it all and fled. Hard to believe he would have left his adorning mum, but he was ruthless, so it's possible. Or maybe he just slipped up and the Death Eaters caught him."

"I wonder if there is any way to determine if he's really dead," Hermione mused. "Does anyone know where he was allegedly killed?"

"My parents and most of the Death Eaters. Unfortunately, they're not exactly reachable at the moment," Draco said.

"They would be if we had telephones," Hermione snapped.

Draco grinned. At least she was still speaking to him... after a fashion.

"I would suggest checking old copies of The Daily Prophet, but I don't think they wasted much space on dead Death Eaters."

"We'll check, anyway," Hermione decided. "We might get lucky, for once. As far as I know, that exhausts our Whos. Next, we need to look at What. We already have the cup, the locket has disappeared, and we have no idea what Gryffindor and Ravenclaw items Voldemort may have used. Rather than waste time trying to figure out what we might be looking for, it may be better to concentrate on Where. Once we pinpoint a location, finding the actual Horcrux should be relatively simple. We got lucky with the cup, although we have no idea why Snape would help Malfoy find the thing--"

"He likes me," Draco said modestly.

"That makes one person," Ron sneered. "If you consider Snape to be a person, that is." He chuckled to himself.

"And the other items were in places of significance to Voldemort. If we could discover places that had meaning to Tom Riddle..."

"The orphanage," Harry said suddenly. "Dumbledore told me Riddle was raised in a Muggle orphanage. The cave he took children to in order to terrify them was the site of one Horcrux--why not the place where he first learned he was a wizard?"

"But, he hated it there. He despised his Muggle roots."

"All the more reason to use it as a place to house his greatest triumph. I'll ask McGonagall to... oh, I can't. We'll have to go through the old files ourselves. I'll find out where the archived student records are kept and nick the address."

"I'll help you," said Ron.

"All right. Where else?"

"Hogwarts, obviously. He's obsessed with this place," Draco said.

"I agree. We may have to enter the Chamber of Secrets."

"Dumbledore was sure to have checked it thoroughly," Harry said.

Ron shuddered. "Let's save that for last. It's horrible down there. Full of spiders."

"We probably should have searched it long before now, but you're right, Harry. Dumbledore was certain to have investigated it properly. Perhaps Voldemort intended the diary to be kept at Hogwarts all along. A book would not have gained much notice in a school. Malfoy's father actually did us a favor with his nasty little prank, although it certainly didn't seem like it at the time."

Three accusatory sets of eyes fixed on Draco, who ignored them.

"I would suspect the Ministry of Magic, as well," he said.

"The Ministry?" Harry sounded surprised.

"It would amuse him. Difficult for the Dark Lord to smuggle an item in, but his minions often have free run of the place. Either that or a simple Imperius Curse on a Ministry official."

"We'd never find it there," Ron said. "That place is full of weird items."

"True, we'd have to know exactly what we were looking for. Even then, it would take us awhile. I might have to figure a way to contact my father and see if he knows anything. Too bad I didn't have a chance to talk to him about these before I left."

Draco was pensive for a moment. His mother was likely out of her mind with worry. He needed to send her a message. There was a way, although it was unpleasant and carried an element of risk.

Hermione continued, "I'm making a list of all the places Voldemort might have hidden one, regardless of how slim the chance. I hate to say it, but Godric's Hollow is a likely location."

Harry blanched. Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand gently.

"No need for you to go back there. Ron and I can handle it."

Draco almost snorted. Ron could barely handle dressing himself. Her statement made it pointedly clear that Draco was not to be included in any of their plans. He'd have to correct that erroneous assumption.

When Hermione finished scratching on the parchment, she said, "That's it for Where, unless we can think of any more places. The When doesn't matter and we won't have much luck with dates, anyway. We really don't know when he made the Horcruxes, nor when he hid them. Ditto for How. That information seems to be rigidly buried. Lastly, we already know Why. Because he's terrified of death and he's utterly insane."

She looked at the others.

"Where shall we start? Harry, has the Pensieve been any use?"

Harry flushed.

"I'm still working on it. Nothing useful, so far."

Draco raised a brow at that. Harry obviously left out volumes of information with that statement. Gryffindors were so transparent. Hermione didn't seem to catch his omission.

"Well, then, I suggest you get back to that, as well as finding out where the student records are archived. I am starving, so I plan to get something to eat before I come back here and try to narrow down which locations are the most likely for us to begin searching. Ron, maybe you can find the archives while Harry is using the Pensieve. Malfoy... I really don't care what you do."

With that, she rolled up the parchment, got to her feet, and stalked out. Ron looked at Draco with a smug expression. Draco grinned maliciously.

"You have your orders, Gryffindors! Snap to it!" He snapped his fingers with emphasis. "While you're busy, I plan to relax here and catch up on my sleep. Enjoy your afternoon."

Draco lounged in the chair with an expression of contentment. He shut his eyes and listened to Harry and Ron muttering as they stomped out. He chuckled in satisfaction. Now... what was he to do about Hermione Granger?