Whom the Gods Would Destroy...

Title: Whom the Gods Would Destroy…
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Angst, Horror, Mystery
Warnings: Character Death, Graphic Violence, Adult Situations, Dark!fic
Summary: DH-EWE: The end of the world has come. Millions dead, magic waning, Hermione Granger and Charlie Weasley are the last people left in Britain—left to pick up the pieces of their once great civilization. Why were they spared? Who is responsible for the death of a nation? These are the mysteries left as a legacy for two lost and lonely people.
Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at a Charlie/Hermione pairing, so please be gentle. This fic is very much inspired by my morbid obsession with ‘end of the world’ scenarios. There are few OCs in this fic, and I have tried to keep much in ‘canon’ as possible. WGWD is unbeta’d, so pardon the mistakes, please?




Whom the Gods Would Destroy…

Part 16




‘quem deus vult perdere, dementat prius.’ –A Roman proverb





Charlie was whispering to Oliver Wood in the Great Hall when Ron found him. It was clear by the expression on Ron’s scarred face that he was upset.

Charlie stood and nodded to Oliver before following his brother out into the Entrance Hall, through the front doors and onto the grounds. Again, Charlie noticed that there were several fresh graves, and at least two open ones near the front doors.

Since leaving Hermione that morning, Charlie had checked in on all except Theo and Justin, all who had gone out into the dangerous countryside. All seemed to be doing well, enjoying a small bit of celebrity after word got around that they had brought back food and medicine.

“Hermione was kissing Lucius Malfoy…”

Charlie blinked at Ron’s disfigured face. Ron had just told him that Harry was awake, and then added his last statement.

“I saw them outside the Hospital Wing. The slimy bastard has had it for her for years. The lawsuits, the editorials, the bad reviews, it was all Malfoy,” Ron snarled. “It was his way of ‘courting’ her, and now…”

Charlie frowned, the sound of feet running over grass catching his attention. Ron’s eyes widened as Charlie began to turn. Suddenly, Hermione was in his arms, kissing him soundly. Charlie held her tight as her arms wrapped about his neck. He had no choice but to kiss her back. There were tears on her face, a rare thing that meant serious business to Charlie.

When Hermione pulled away, it was clear that she was not aware of Ron.

“Charlie, we have to go. We have to go now!”

She was clutching his jumper, pulling at him, her golden eyes wide, her lips trembling.

“Wait just a minute, Hermione,” Ron growled, moving to Charlie’s side.

Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but already Ron was on a tirade. Hermione did not seem to listen, her eyes still on Charlie’s face.

“Enough, Ron!” Charlie snapped, causing Ron to fall silent and Hermione finally notice Ron.

For mid-June, it was downright frigid outside in the open air. The sky was overcast and Charlie could feel a light drizzle on his face. Slowly, carefully, Charlie took one of Hermione’s hands in his and turned to Ron. With a sigh, Charlie spoke.

“Lucius Malfoy said something?” Charlie asked Hermione.

Hermione’s eyes moved to the grass under her boots. “Information, it came with a price.”

Ron was turning red in the face, his fists clenching.

“And you kissed him? Have you lost your mind, Hermione?” Ron fumed.

Hermione bit her lower lip and then seemed to come back to herself, wiping tears from her face and straightening her back.

“Ron, it was not your business to speak to Charlie about something you saw and did not understand, but I will say this: Lucius Malfoy is not as weak as he seems or claims. I let him kiss me, it was his request in exchange for some information that he has been harbouring.”

Ron scarred face flinched.

“Besides,” she huffed at Ron, “you need to see to Harry. Your family is with him and you did not even make into the Hospital Wing before running off to tell Charlie of something you wouldn’t understand.”

Charlie also flinched, but Hermione squeezed his hand gently, a soothing gesture. Ron, however, began to turn a horrible shade of purple. The sound of wind through the distant Forest was the only thing that kept the awkward silence at bay.

“This is not over, Hermione. You are going to tell me everything, everything, you understand?” Ron growled.

Charlie frowned as Ron stalked off toward the castle. There was a jealousy in Ron that Charlie could never understand. Ron had always been brilliant, strong, and likable. The insecurity Ron felt was not due to the way he was raised or anything that their family may have said or done. Ron was sometimes very difficult to understand, but Charlie loved him.

Turning to Hermione, who was also watching Ron stalk away, Charlie grasped her chin, turning her face to his. “I hope his information was worth it,” he whispered.

He had to admit he was a little upset that Hermione would let someone like Lucius Malfoy kiss her, let alone touch her. The night Malfoy came to the DADA office, Charlie had been put on edge, and not just because he was affronted by the man, but because the man was dangerous for anyone involved or near him.

“It was,” she whispered back. She took a step back, pulling her hand from his. She wiped again at her face, but Charlie could still see tear tracks on her face. “Walk with me…”

Charlie waited as they walked, around the castle, past the unmarked graves, toward the greenhouses. Hermione finally stopped near the Whomping Willow, sitting down on the damp grass, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her shirt. Charlie realized it was one of the layers she had been wearing when they first met in London, the pattern on the fabric odd and pale green. Charlie sat to her right, nodding to Diggle and another man as they patrolled the grounds.

“Did Ron ever tell you about the time when we all thought Harry had died…at the last battle?”

Charlie shook his head, “No. I remember that I was fighting with one of the Lestrange brothers when Harry was brought back…”

Hermione nodded. “You see, Harry did die, in a manner of speaking and when he did, he saw things. I guess it was like the gateway between one world and the next. He saw Dumbledore there. Harry said it was King’s Cross, only brighter, cleaner.”

Charlie said nothing, turning his head to look at Hermione who was hugging her knees tightly against her.

“Harry mentioned seeing the last remaining fragment of Voldemort’s soul there—a flayed baby, crying terribly. Harry had almost seen to the baby, but Dumbledore warned Harry away.

Then Harry came back to us all, destroyed Voldemort when the Curse rebounded…”

Charlie nodded. “I remember all too well,” he said darkly.

Hermione’s lips trembled. “I believe Harry thought he had destroyed that bit of Voldemort’s soul…but…”

She glanced to Charlie, her golden eyes damp, her fear clear on her face. Charlie could only study Hermione, and listen.

“There’s a boy here, in this castle, who knows very well how to destroy us.”

He frowned. “What Klemper saw…?” he trailed, his eyes moving to the sick looking willow below them.

“I think I found him this morning. He was singing over Harry, the song…”

“Who is he?”

Hermione shook her head roughly, a sob passing her lips. “I don’t know, but there are only a few children in the castle now, and this one was wearing Hogwarts robes.”

The possibility that Klemper had been right, it still seemed wrong. How could a child get past the wards protecting the castle unnoticed? Charlie clenched his teeth, the answer before him.

The Whomping Willow.

“Harry told me what he saw in his coma…King’s Cross, empty. He heard the music, and it sickened him…

But the worst of it, is what Lucius told me…”

Hermione’s right hand moved from about her knees to touch Charlie’s forearm gently. Charlie turned to Hermione, aching to take her into his arms.

“He has mentioned the Horcrux cave several times, suggesting that someone, I, go and investigate. He finally gave my a good reason to go now…”

Hermione swallowed thickly, her face paling more than Charlie thought possible.

“Lucius showed me his Dark Mark.”

Charlie blinked, not understanding at first. Slowly, realization came, and then flooded him. Nausea swept through him and he had to look away from Hermione’s grave face.

“Others, ex-Death Eaters, have come to Lucius, secretly. Nott Sr., Goyle Sr., all the old ones who are now taking refuge here. There are not many who have the Mark now, but it is reacting, albeit faintly. Lucius showed me, had me touch his…”

He ground his teeth, imagining the expression of satisfaction on Malfoy’s face at Hermione’s touch. Malfoy was most likely jubilant… No, Charlie knew better. Malfoy was just as relieved as the Order that Voldemort was dead.

But ‘he’ wasn’t truly gone, was he?

“It is just enough to have Malfoy on edge, though he has been hiding it. It is the last magical thing left in his body, and he’s feeding off it. The Protean Charm has been dead for over a decade, and now…”

“Did he say when it started?” Charlie asked, remembering Draco Malfoy.

Hermione shrugged. “Lucius could not say for certain, but did mention that there had been phantom pains since last autumn. He had ignored it, phantom pains are a side effect, I am assuming,” Hermione sighed. “But now… Its gone beyond phantom pains to a dull burning, Lucius said. It is constant, and getting stronger.”

“So…” Charlie began, but fell silent, not sure if he was understanding. The conjectures forming in his brain were impossible, or at the very least, improbable, but terrifying nonetheless. “Someone has somehow taken the last piece of Voldemort…”

Hermione shuddered. “How, why, it will have to wait. Lucius convinced me of one thing.”

“And that is?” Charlie ground out, hating the way Hermione said Malfoy’s name.

Hermione’s eyes were suddenly very clear. “We go to the Horcrux cave. We stop the power behind the Inferi, and then deal with the possibility that Voldemort is not as dead as we all would like.”





Hermione knew that there was more to deal with than simply the Inferi. The fact that magical ability was leaving the majority of the surviving Wizarding population had to be addressed. Even as she sat in silent introspection in the light rain above the Whomping Willow, she knew that the Seal had to be lifted.

Destroy the one controlling the Inferi, and the Inferi would revert to the harmless dead. That had to be accomplished first, and then the Seal removed.

Whoever had used the witches and wizards to cast the Holokauston had made no more moves since the initial attack. If it were a boy… Hermione’s teeth chattered.

The boy she had seen. Who was he? It was no coincidence that when Hermione frightened the boy away, Harry awoke, was it? Lucius was convinced that somewhere the Dark Lord was biding his time, waiting, using what he could to take his final revenge on those who had destroyed his body and his power.

Three times, the Devil’s hand, Kreacher had said, and it was to Kreacher Hermione would go. If anyone could help her reach the Horcrux cave, it would be the elf that had the most dealings with the place. Lucius alluded to the cave so often, but had said almost nothing of it in the small, dark corridor.

Hermione could still taste his mouth, and it made her ill.

“We should talk to Marcus and the others,” Charlie said, breaking their collective silence as the day moved on. “They were the ones to mention that ‘someone’ was in the castle.”

Taking a tremulous breath, Hermione nodded.

“I want to see Harry again,” she whispered. “There has to be something…”

Something only Harry would know, she had meant to say. Not just about Voldemort, but about the Seal as well.






By evening, the ‘Three’ had been to speak with Harry, Charlie learned from Ginny. It had not gone well, by Ginny’s description. Waiting in Pomfrey’s office, whispering as not to bother a sleeping Patil, Ginny was bordering on mental exhaustion. Hermione held Ginny in her arms as his sister explained how horrible it had been trying to make Harry understand what was happening.

“He takes so much on himself. He thinks that this is all his fault. He won’t leave Jaime’s bedside now. With Al and Lily gone, I don’t think I can go on without Jaime…” Ginny wept.

“We need to talk to him, Gin, privately,” Charlie murmured, his hand cupping his sister’s face.

Ginny’s blue eyes widened for a moment, staring up into Charlie’s face, and slowly she nodded. “I know… I can feel it,” she whispered. “This is going to end soon, isn’t it?”

“We hope so,” Hermione whispered.

“There are so many things we don’t know, and with Harry awake, perhaps some of it can be cleared up,” Charlie murmured.

Ginny sighed. “It feels like old times, doesn’t it?” she said to Hermione.

Hermione’s arms tightened around Ginny. “I… That… I hope not,” Hermione stumbled, her eyes falling to the floor.

Ginny embraced Hermione in return and slowly stepped away, grasping Charlie’s folded arms. “I’m glad that you’re here, Charlie,” she whispered. “You have always been so strong, so level-headed. With Ron the way he is… We cannot count on him as we used to…”

Charlie frowned, “What do you mean?”

Ginny licked her lips, glancing back to Hermione. “Besides the fact that he is walking around with quite a bit of responsibility on his shoulders, he is losing his magic more and more every day. As am I…”

Hermione fidgeted, and then stepped toward the door.

“Ron will be alright, most of us will, but the others, they aren’t reacting well to all this…” Ginny continued. “And I understand why you will have to go…”

Charlie blinked. “Gin?”

Ginny smiled sadly. “I maybe a step up from a Squib, but I can still tell when Hermione has hatched a plan and you are ready to leave us behind, big brother.”

Charlie took Ginny in his arms, crushing his little sister against his chest. It was hard to believe that Ginny was old enough to be a mother three times over; to Charlie she was still a tiny girl running about his legs begging for attention.

“Just let me know when you both are done, and please, try to bear with Harry… He’s…” Ginny trailed, tears thickening her voice again.

After a few moments of composing themselves, Hermione walked with Charlie to the little niche that held the only two Potter males left in all of Britain. Charlie was anxious. He and Harry had always gotten on well, but there was always a distance between them, partly due to their age. However, when Charlie laid eyes on Harry lying on Jaime’s bed with the small boy cradled against his chest, Charlie felt his heart begin to break.

Harry had been a wonderful father. Christmas was the only true example Charlie could compare. At Christmas, Harry Potter was always Father Christmas to the Potter and Weasley children. He was always laughing and playing with the children, all of them. He was the favourite uncle in more ways than one. He was the doting father, protective, instructive, and loving. Charlie marveled at Harry Potter when Jaime was born, the happiness Charlie felt, and saw was astoundingly warming.

As Charlie looked Harry, stroking Jaime’s dark hair, there was still a gentleness about the man who had saved the Wizarding world, a warmth that made Charlie’s heart burn. Harry always made Charlie wonder what it was like to be truly in love.

Ginny spoke quietly to Harry whose green eyes were rimmed in red from many tears. They kissed softly and Ginny pulled away, her fingers brushing through Jaime’s hair. She nodded to Charlie and moved past Hermione, shutting the screens behind her, standing guard.

“It’s good to see you, Charlie,” Harry said quietly as Jaime slept against his wide chest, his mouth partially open, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Charlie nodded, unable to speak; unable to think of a good excuse why he had not been to see his nephew sooner. Hermione, however, moved to sit on a stool beside the bed, her hand reaching out to brush a piece of hair from Harry’s eyes and then brushing Jaime’s cheek lovingly.

“Gin’s told me that you two have been out to forage for food and medicine. I’m glad…” Harry said distantly, hi voice rough. “She’s told me everything…”

Hermione glanced to Charlie and Charlie sat on Harry’s empty cot.

“Now, tell me about the music, ‘mione. I need to know.”

Hermione said nothing for a moment and from where Charlie sat, he could not see her face.

“There’s so many questions, Harry, I barely know where to begin.”

Harry tried to smile, the lamplight beside the bed catching his green eyes and the smooth skin of his old scar.

“From the beginning?” he suggested.

Hermione chuckled sadly, and slowly, began. Charlie listened to Hermione’s words, knowing very well that she had a far tougher time than he had. When Hermione turned on the stool, Charlie filled in his side of the story. Harry listened passively, only his eyes burning hotly green at times, or his jaw clenching.

When Charlie finished, Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. Charlie could see that Hermione seemed bothered by the gesture.

“It’s nothing, Hermione. Habit, I guess,” Harry said as if to answer her unsaid question. “So you both have been hearing the song, perhaps in connection to the presence of magical life or power?”

“We still cannot be sure. Sometimes, that seems to be the case, other times, not. We’re not the only ones who have heard it. Most of those who went out with us to forage have heard it, but we have all agree not to speak of it.

Then, this morning, the boy…” Hermione trailed.

Harry shifted little Jaime and met Hermione’s eyes. “I have no recollection of a boy, but this Klemper…he mentioned seeing a boy?”

Hermione nodded. Charlie shifted on the bed, feeling a bit on the outside. He knew that Ron, Hermione and Harry were very close, and to see Hermione and Harry speaking, Charlie knew that there were some dynamics he would never understand.

“I, we, wanted to ask about the Seal, Harry. If anyone left would know anything about it, it would be you,” Hermione whispered.

Harry smirked. “Yes… I know enough about it to know that it was a mistake that the Ministry should have enacted it. And, I can tell you how to disable it.”

Charlie straightened. “Malfoy thought he knew…”

Harry scoffed. “The Malfoys…” he muttered darkly. “They only knew as much as the Ministry would allow them to know. Draco Malfoy died in vain.

After the War, when Kingsley was installed as Minister, he brought with him the plans he and Moody made. Apparently, it started with the help of Dumbledore after we went to the Department of Mysteries in Fifth Year. By the time I was brought in through the Aurory, the hardest part of the spell had been completed. All the calculations, the people needed, the magic required, it was all figured in. I was brought in to start implementation of the plan. I was told that Dumbledore had wanted me in on the plan…

Magical locations were chosen due to the high concentration of earth magic. Glastonbury Abbey, the Loe, all those places you mentioned that were devoid of magic was places chosen to power the Seal. I suppose now, those places are desolate wastelands. To maintain the Seal, magical energy would be siphoned off living things, creatures, and people. It was a matter of last resort, worst-case scenario. The Ministry believed that it would never come to this…crisis would have been averted, the Seal undone…”

Charlie shivered. No crisis had been averted, it was upon them.

“The people chosen to erect the Seal were used because they had power, or because they volunteered in exchange for leniency. The Malfoys only worked on the Seal in Wiltshire, using the various spots in the county to act as ‘batteries’ for the Seal. The circles, Stonehenge, other places…”

“How do we end the spell?” Hermione asked quickly, her face still hidden to Charlie.

Harry blinked slowly. “Two ways,” he mumbled. “The Seal will only come down when we all die, all that have magical ability—creatures and wizards alike. We are powering the Seal.”

Charlie stood slowly, moving to stand next to Hermione. “And the other way?” he asked.

“Waking the Red Dragon again, at Dinas Emrys.”

Charlie blinked, his mouth falling open to form a question, but none came.

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked in an agitated whisper.

Harry smiled sadly. “Good question. Blame Dumbledore…”

Charlie’s hand moved to Hermione’s shoulder, his mouth shutting with a snap. He knew. Anyone in his position as a Dragon Keeper knew the legends.

Charlie however, could not say more as Harry shifted, sliding Jaime from his chest to lay the boy on the bed, placing his head on the pillow. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets over Charlie’s ailing nephew, and then regarded Hermione soberly.

“Regulus Black. You are absolutely sure it was him?”

“As sure as we can be, considering,” Hermione murmured. “I thought I had killed him…”

Harry sighed, rubbing at his forehead again, ruffling his shaggy black hair. Then, adjusting the glasses on his face, his eerie emerald eyes settled on Charlie for a moment then back to Hermione.

“I never knew much about Regulus. Walburga’s portrait often called him her ‘one joy’ before I blasted the damned thing for frightening Al.”

Charlie vaguely recalled the episode, Ginny mentioning at Christmas two years before. Why Harry and Ginny stayed at Grimmuald Place always baffled Charlie. Even with the Black’s old elf staying indefinitely at Hogwarts, the house was still dark and downright depressing to Charlie the few times he had visited.

“I know just as much as was revealed when Dumbledore took me to the Horcrux cave…” Harry trailed, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at Hermione’s face. “You are going to go there, aren’t you?”

“If it is where this started, with the Inferi, it might be the clue we need to free us from Hogwarts,” Hermione whispered.

Charlie’s hand squeezed her thin shoulder, urging her to be honest and forthright with Harry. If there was a possibility to eliminate the Inferi, there was a possibility that their world would not be a complete loss.

Harry sighed, and then, in a brisk, harsh tone: “Kreacher!”

The sound of Harry’s voice started Hermione, even more so as a low pop sounded, and a disgusting elf appeared near the foot of Jaime’s cot.

“Master called?” the elf croaked, bowing stiffly.

Harry shifted on the cot, and stared at the elf for a long moment. “Tell us again, Kreacher, as you told Dumbledore, about Regulus Black.”

The elf lifted his head slowly, his jaundiced eyes moving to Hermione and then to Charlie. The elf muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘blood traitor,’ but began speaking slowly. Charlie had heard parts of the story, but Hermione and Harry listened, as if they did not know the story the elf began telling.

“Master knows it was years ago, when Kreacher still served the Noble House of Black. Master knows that Regulus Black sought to weaken the Dark Lord by taking Slytherin’s locket. Kreacher had to watch my dear heart drink that potion, watch him be dragged down by those things, watch him be drowned.

The Dark Lord had used Kreacher, had Kreacher drink the foul potion, my dear heart grew angry and saw how to overcome the Dark Lord. After these many years, it pains Kreacher…and now Kreacher hears those things outside…”

Harry lifted his chin, “Where is the cave, Kreacher, where exactly?”

Kreacher shifted on his hairy, bare feet, grasping the hem of his filthy rag he wore. “Master wants to go there?”

There was no concern in the elf’s voice, but veiled curiosity.

“Perhaps. Tell me.”

Kreacher glanced to Hermione; Charlie wondered what the elf was thinking as its eyes bored into Hermione’s face.

“Kreacher remembers following the Dark Lord to a village on the seashore. There was a castle down the cliffs, an ancient, powerful place that made Kreacher feel ill. The Dark Lord took Kreacher down the cliffs at low tide. The cave was a terrible place, dark power, dark memories… Muggles died there, but their souls were not gone. Angry, murderous souls…”

“Where, Kreacher?” Harry gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Tintagel, Kreacher thinks.”

Charlie inhaled, having not noticed that he had been holding his breath in anticipation.

“Master wants to go there?” Kreacher asked again.

Harry said nothing, his eyes on his knees. Hermione, however, quietly thanked Kreacher.

“Go back, Kreacher, that’s all for now,” Harry whispered, weary.

The elf bowed again, and was suddenly gone with a pop. It seemed that the elf still had ability yet, and Charlie idly wondered about the other creatures in the castle in the Forest.

“So it was Cornwall,” Hermione mused. “It makes sense, we had assumed…”

“You were the one who assumed, Hermione. I never thought much of it until now,” Harry said over her, his hand reaching out to grasp her left wrist. “I want to go with you.”

“No.”

Charlie watched Harry’s face harden.

“I should be the one, Hermione…”

“You have to take care of your family, Harry. Besides, you have no idea if you are able to go anywhere. I haven’t even thought about how to go about anything yet.”

“But it’s my fault! I could have stopped this, I could have stopped the Ministry from raising the Seal in the first place!”

Hermione’s right hand moved to wrap about Harry’s wrist, and Charlie felt as if he were intruding.

“You were Imperius’d, how could have known…”

Harry’s eyes glittered in the lamplight. “I was Imperius’d…” he muttered, glancing toward the light. “I keep trying to remember something, anything… All I remember was being in the Ministry.”

Hermione sighed, pulling free from Harry’s grasp. “You need to rest now, Harry, eat something. The longer you are with us, awake, the better you’ll be able to remember.”

Shaking his head, Harry groaned. “It’s too much. All of this…”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny was pushing through the screens. “Padma is coming,” she whispered, meeting Charlie’s eyes.

Enough, Ginny’s eyes said to him, and Charlie nodded. With a squeeze on Hermione’s shoulder, she rose from the stool. Charlie moved to Ginny taking her in a one-arm embrace while Hermione kissed Harry’s brow in a sisterly fashion.

Charlie walked in front of Hermione as they left the Hospital Wing. When they reached their rooms in the DADA offices, Hermione flopped down into the floor before the fireplace, staring into the fire.

Sitting in the nearest armchair, Charlie could only watch her, knowing that Hermione was traveling down a mental pathway, unaware of him.

“Tell me about Dinas Emrys.”

The sound of her voice startled him, as did her eyes as she turned to look up at him from the floor.

“It’s an ancient hill fort in Wales, north of the Reserve, but part of Snowdonia National Park. But in Welsh Magical history, it is a place where defeated dragons were buried.”

Hermione cocked her head. “And the ‘Red Dragon?’”

Charlie smiled. “Legend. It deals with Vortigern and the young Merlin.”

Hermione blinked and already Charlie could see the movement of her mind behind her amber eyes. “The battle of the two ‘vermes,’ the white Saxon dragon and the Red Briton Dragon?”

He nodded. Hermione was the brightest witch he ever knew.

“It is a place that is avoided by our kind, for various reasons. The Welsh believe that Merlin buried a treasure there, and a fair haired, pale-eyed person would discover it. How that came be, is a mystery. Others believed that upon approaching the hill, if one were lucky, they would hear a bell that would lead them to the cave with Merlin’s treasures. If they were not lucky, a terrible sound would drive them away…

The truth is, the treasure had been found long ago and lost. The remains of ancient dragons are buried there, but left alone. It is somewhat of a haunted place.”

Hermione frowned. “And to dispel the Seal, we have to…”

Charlie shrugged. “I have never been there, to Dinas Emrys. All I know is what I have been told, but I know where it is.”

“And maybe when we go, we’ll know what to do,” Hermione grumbled. “It would figure that Dumbledore would have some hand in all this…”

Charlie said nothing, watching Hermione turn back to the fire. He was not sure what she was planning, but whatever it was and whatever it meant, he knew he would be at her side.