Several Miles from the Sun

CHAPTER ELEVEN: GRYFFINDOR'S SWORD

Hermione stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, deep in thought. What had started as a mental map piecing together the clues of Voldemort's Horcruxes had turned into a rather frustrating analysis of Regulus.

Hermione just didn't know where she stood with him.

He was not the intelligent, sophisticated man she had dreamed with her entire life. Regulus was, however, a man that did not show his cards too early. He had the brains hidden somewhere, as well as that superior act that the Malfoys made so annoying.

And yet, Hermione was attracted to him, even though she wasn't quite sure why.

Ron was a thought of the past. Even after Lavender, Ron was incredibly ignorant to Hermione's feelings. Regulus, on the other hand, wasn't. So in a battle between Ron and Regulus, Regulus was winning.

Except--except!--Hermione felt, perhaps knew, that those secret kisses, quick hugs, and appreciative teasing wasn't completely honest. There was something that Regulus was looking for, and he was looking for it in her.

His magic back, stop her from finding out the truth about him, perhaps finding a way to stab Harry in the back? It was all possible, but she couldn't help but blush and feel pleased when he was watching her. It was like having her own little secret and being able to watch it float about in a snow globe.

And that was dangerous.

Hermione sighed. Perhaps it was time for her to forget a bit about Voldemort and dig a bit deeper into Regulus's past.

-!-

Fred and George had been too busy to go back to Hogwarts to bring Professor Trelawney, so Harry and Ron went while Professor McGonagall took Hermione to see Slughorn. As Ron had described the night he returned from visiting Grawp, Hogwarts look desolated, hunted, as if it hadn't been inhabited in centuries. An aura of despair seemed to surround it, and Harry felt the memories of Dumbledore's death clench at his insides.

Ron and Harry walked passed the gate, left unlocked by Hagrid who had gone on an unknown mission, and up the pathway towards the front door that was no longer kept locked. Nobody would really think twice of coming back to Hogwarts. Neither of the boys tried to make small talk, and their walk grew quicker in pace.

Ron pushed the door open, and the cold silence seemed to shake them.

"Come on," said Harry, "Fred and George said Trelawney spends her time in the Great Hall."

Filch had long retired with Madam Pince to a country home in Wales, and the memories of teasing Hermione about their secret relationship made Harry smile briefly. He couldn't help but notice how all the portraits had awaken upon his arrival, and kept trying to peer down at him, quiet as doormice.

"Harry Potter has finally arrived," a voice said.

Firenze had been waiting for them. The handsome centaur did not look beaten like everyone else, and instead maintained a straight posture that showed off strength and courage.

"Firenze," Harry greeted. "We've come to find Trelawney."

Firenze nodded. "A good idea," he said, looking like he meant it. "I'll take you to her."

They followed him to the Great Hall, where Trelawney was perched on top of a table, swinging a bottle of sherry, taking large sips, and then prodding her crystal ball, which was floating in front of her.

"Ah! Harold--"

"Harry," Harry corrected automatically, pushing up his glasses.

"Harry, of course! I knew you were coming," Trelawney continued, slurring slightly.

Ron looked pointedly at Harry. She's drunk was what he wanted to say.

"I'm so lonely here!" Trelawney wailed. "The portraits wander off or pretend to be asleep, the house-elves have gone, even the ghosts seem to find their entertainment elsewhere." She hiccupped and then pointed at Firenze. "As for him! Calls himself a professor! Hmph!"

"Er, yes, look, we're here to take you away," Harry said tersely.

"To St. Mungo's?" Trelawney demanded. "I will not go! Dumbledore said I could stay! Dumbledore!"

"Not St. Mungo's," snapped Ron, adding something that sounded like, "you mad old bat," under his breath.

"It would be wise to follow Harry Potter," Firenze said in his deep voice. He looked calm, but Harry knew he would be happy to be rid of Trelawney. "Danger awaits you, if you stay here."

"Danger, eh? How would you know, my quadruple friend... quadrupled...." Another hiccup. "My crystal ball does not fail me!" The Divination professor took another glance at her ball, and then turned a deadly shade of pale white. "Hum! Well, maybe, yes, maybe I should go with Mr Potter here."

Ron peered curiously at the crystal ball, but could see nothing beyond the swirling mists. He snickered, "I think Dementors are mating in your ball, Professor."

Harry bit back a snort. "Why don't you go pack your bags, Professor? We'll wait for you here," he said, smiling.

"Yes, right, I shall go do that." Trelawney went to take a last sip out of her sherry bottle, but Harry took it and pushed her towards the door. She gave a disgruntled hiccup but did not argue.

"She has known that she must leave," Firenze said, a slight edge of distaste in his tone. "She does not know why, but she knows she must go. Unfortunately, you humans prefer to drink your way to denial."

"Firenze, you know there's a place for you in my house if you need it," Harry offered. Ron shot him a disgruntled look.

The sides of Firenze's mouth twitched, and Harry felt embarrassed to know he was trying to smile. "Thank you, Harry Potter," the centaur said, "but Hagrid has been more than generous in offering me a safe home here. And someone must take care of Hogwarts until it can be rebuilt into a school once more."

-!-

Living with Professor Trelawney became unbearable after two days. Harry had removed all traces of liquor from his house, keeping only a few things stored in a secret panel in the wall Regulus had shown him. Trelawney seemed to take this the wrong way, and was paying everyone back by refusing to stop chatting.

In the course of three days she had read Ginny's palm, telling her that a short, dark and handsome stranger would sweep her off her feet. Everyone had automatically stared at Harry, but Harry had snapped that he was not short and the only sweeping he was going to be doing was with a broom, if they kept annoying both Kreacher and Dobby.

Trelawney had also fought twice with Hermione about her Inner Eye in which Hermione had lost control, and thrown a book at the professor. In return, Trelawney chucked her crystal ball, and Harry had yelled at everyone to go back to their rooms before he got really angry.

The best part was when Trelawney came upon Regulus. She insisted that she read his palm, but upon seeing a rather short life line, moved on to Tarot cards. The card of Death repeatedly came up (Trelawney failed to notice that the twins had swapped her deck for one of theirs), and she forced herself to look in the crystal ball. Ten tea cups later, the blood of a dead rooster and some magic beans from an old man named Jack, Trelawney made a startling realisation.

"You should be dead, my boy!" she cried at Regulus. "You have cheated Him long enough." She gave a loud shriek and went to bar herself in her room.

"Dead?" asked Fred, looking at Regulus. "You're meant to be dead, really?"

"What gave that away, dear brother?" George said. "The fact that he was killed? No!"

"Perhaps it's all his rotting skin, or those soulless eyes, or--" Fred ducked as Regulus tried to hit him. "Ah! It must be those adorable little angel wings and halo."

Regulus seethed as the twins marched off, laughing loudly.

"What's so funny?" he barked at Hermione, who was giggling behind him.

"The idea of you wearing a halo," she snickered. "I always thought they were horns. Oh, hey!"

She gave a startled yelp as Regulus picked her up and carried her to his room, grumbling something about where the twins could shove their halo and he'd show her horns.

In the mean time, Harry was downstairs with Remus, pleading, "Take her, please! She's driving us all mad!"

-!-

The end of the week brought Tonks, with bad news. "We couldn't get anything out of old Borgin, Harry," she said. "Both Kingsley and I tried on different occasions, but he said he couldn't give names off his list. And, of course, we can't threaten him with the Ministry, because someone might find out."

The members of the Order were gathered around the table. The only peope in the house who weren't allowed to attend were Professor Trelawney and Ginny, both off sulking because of it.

Hermione stole a glance at Harry, who was thinking over Tonks' words. Mad-Eye Moody was suggesting a raid of the shop, done quickly at night, and ending in the stealing of Borgin's records.

"Borgin only responds to threats. Are you sure you threatened him enough?" Harry asked.

Tonks looked insulted at the thought that she couldn't threaten someone sufficiently. "As far as we could go, without mentioning getting the Ministry involved," she said.

Regulus snorted, and half the table shot him an angry glare. "The only way to get old Borgin to talk is to warm his old ego a little," he said. "You should know this," he turned to look at Remus, "Sirius spent half his holidays running back and forth to Borgin's to see if he could get the old bastard to cough up any liquor sweets."

Remus nodded vaguely. Harry seemed slightly incredulous at the thought that Sirius would have spent his youth doing such things.

"Give me five minutes with Borgin, and I promise you I will have all the information you need," Regulus said.

"Ha!" someone snapped; it sounded like Mad-Eye.

"Absolutely not," said Kingsley. "We cannot allow you to wander around Diagon Alley, much less Knockturn. The Ministry was one thing, but...."

"I can get you want you want," Regulus insisted. "Not to mention that I think I've proved my loyalty more than enough for this little group."

Hermione couldn't help but notice the way he glanced with slight hatred at Harry when he spoke. Harry, in change, looked pensive and he leaned over to Remus, whispering in his ear. The tension grew in the room, and everyone kept looking between Regulus and Harry.

"Tonight, I am going to visit Malfoy in Azkaban," Harry said. "I will take care of that first, and then we will see what we'll do about Borgin."

"Tonks, Kingsley, what do you know about Harry's visit tonight?" Remus asked, turning to the two Aurors.

"Scrimgeour is keeping a tight watch. He's asked for an extra shift of Aurors," Kingsley said. "I know that I'll be there."

"This is something that could go very, very wrong, Harry," Arthur said softly. "If Scrimgeour suspects that Malfoy has information we need, he could use it against you."

"We'll have to put our luck on the Felix Felicis. We have the diversion. If Kingsley will be there on patrol, then nobody needs to come with me. The less people there, the better." Harry held up his hand as Remus moved to object. "This has to be fast; we're running out of time. We're only hoping that Lucius will have something valuable for us. If he doesn't, then we need to immediately jump to the next plan. We cannot risk someone staying behind."

"Who's setting the distraction?" Mrs Weasley asked suspiciously.

"Yes, about that," admitted Fred, "there was a slight problem."

"We can't afford problems," Mad-Eye snapped.

"Mundungus was supposed to be in charge of it," Fred continued, "but I don't know if anyone's noticed he's not here."

Hermione looked around, as did most of the table. "Where is he?" she asked.

"In Azkaban," George muttered. "He got caught and his record is anything but clean."

Harry slammed a fist down on the table. "He'll bloody well stay there this time!" he said angrily.

Mrs Weasley muttered her agreement.

"I can take care of the distraction," Kingsley said quickly, raising his voice among the disgruntled members. "Nobody will suspect me, and I'll be on the site the entire time. The twins just need to give me a quick explanation. No problems. I'll personally take care of Mundungus."

Remus nodded. "Very well," he said. "Now that tonight has been taken care of, I think we can adjourn this meeting. We'll meet again tomorrow. Harry's right, we need to speed things up."

Everyone quickly left Dumbledore's Room, still upset over Mundungus' constant errors, and about missing the Quidditch match tomorrow night. Harry had stayed behind with McGonagall, and Hermione waited to see if they need her. Ron and Regulus stayed behind, as well.

"I had a brief chat with the Sorting Hat, Potter," McGonagall was saying, ignoring everyone else, "and there is something Albus wanted to pass on to you." She took out a large box, like the sort roses got sent in, and pulled out a large silver sword. It was extremely beautiful with studded rubies, and even though one could tell it was old, it looked brand new.

"Gryffindor's sword," Harry said in recognition.

Hermione let out a little gasp. She remembered Harry's tales of using it to fight against the Basilisk.

"The Sorting Hat passed on a message, as well," McGonagall said. "There is only one reason to use this sword and it only has one use. It does sound like something Albus would say."

"Do you--do you suppose it's to fight Voldemort?" Ron piped up, eyeing the egg-sized rubies.

"It's for Nagini," said Harry, holding up the sword. It made him look older. "It's to get rid of Nagini."

Nobody could argue against his confident tone.

"You'll have to keep it safe in the mean time, Potter." McGonagall smiled tiredly at them, nodded and left the room.

"Is that really Godric Gryffindor's sword?" Regulus asked after a while.

"Of course it is!" said Ron. "Harry, can I hold it?"

"No!" Hermione snapped as Harry made to hand it over. "You heard McGonagall. You've got to hide it away. You probably shouldn't tell anyone about this, either."

Ron had already taken the sword and was having a mock fight with the air.

"Bad things happen to those who take things that only belong to the proper heir of the four founders," Regulus warned. "My mummy used to tell me every night before I went to Hogwarts."

Hermione blinked. She couldn't imagine anyone calling angry Mrs Black "mummy".

"What do you mean? Dumbledore had it, and nothing happened to him," Ron pointed out, handing the sword back to Harry.

"He died, didn't he?" Regulus snapped.

"Ah," was all Ron could muster.

"Well, that's silly," Hermione said. "After all, Harry's not the heir of Gryffindor, and Dumbledore wouldn't have passed on anything dangerous to him."

"Well, how do you know I'm not?" Harry asked. "I mean, I don't think I am... or maybe I could be. Or Ron could be, because he has Pureblood in him, don't he?"

Ron brightened at the thought. "Yeah!" he agreed.

"Don't be stupid," chastised Herimone. "If you'd read Hogwarts: A History you'd know by now that Godric Gryffindor was completely--"

"--celibate," ended Regulus, grinning.

Hermione blushed, looking delighted that she had finally found someone who had read Hogwarts: A History.

"Gryffindor was celibate?" Ron demanded, looking aghast at the thought. "Wasn't he supposed to be devilishly handsome, and rich and powerful?"

"Who also just happened to keep it in his trousers," Regulus said. "Therefore, no one here is candidate to be Gryffindor's long lost heir."

"So you better hide that sword properly, Harry," continued Hermione. "And only take it out when the time to... kill Nagini comes."

They split up after that. Regulus went back to his room, Ron kept Hermione company in the library, and Harry went to hide the sword. For a lack of a better place, he hid it under the bed and threw an old duvet on top, deciding to find a better place later on.