Featherlight Taction

A/N: Now that the Deathly Hallows is out, I feel the need to clarify that no, this fanfiction will not be compliant with the seventh book.

HOWEVER! I will be using certain aspects of the Deathly Hallows, such as certain horcruxes. That's all I'll pretty much use from the books, though. So if you don't want horcruxes to be spoiled for you, don't read chapter 3+ until after you've read the Deathly Hallows.

Otherwise, since I started it before DH's release, I’ll stick to following the events of HBP only. This story takes place in the Deathly Hallows time, though.

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Honestly what will become of me
don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is daily
We are what we don't see
Missed everything daydreaming

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to end?

Traveling I only stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets it and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end

Well the dogs were whistling a new tune
Barking at the new moon
Hoping it would come soon so that they could
Dogs were whistling a new tune
Barking at the new moon
Hoping it would come soon so that they could
Die die die die die

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
come to an end come to an
Why do all good things come to end?

Well the dogs were barking at a new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon
And the sun was wondering if it should stay away for a day 'til the feeling went away
And the sky was falling on the clouds were dropping and
the rain forgot how to bring salvation
the dogs were barking at the new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon

So that they could die.

-Nelly Furtado – All Good Things

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Featherlight Taction

Chapter 3- Horcrux

“Helga Hufflepuff's cup was once owned by Hepzibah Smith, a distant descendant of Hufflepuff. It was stolen from her after her murder at the hands of…Voldemort,” Hermione faltered at the name still, even though she’d spoken it for years now. Old habits died hard.

The brown-haired witch was currently describing one of their suspected horcruxes. She’d done research on all they scrounged up on their list, of sorts, and was now delineating all of their histories to Harry and Ron so that they could possibly figure out where to start their journey at last.

“The Cup,” she continued, “Like Slytherin's Locket--which was what you and Dumbledore went to find, Harry--went on to become one of Voldemort's many Horcruxes. It’s possible that it could reside at Hogwarts. After all, Helga Hufflepuff was one of the founders.”

“But it was stolen from,” Harry interjected as Ron watched on with a bemusing thoughtful expression. “Most likely the thief took it from Hogwarts.”

Hermione frowned, her brows knit together in intelligent agitation.

“Well…” Ron began, starting Harry and Hermione from their concentrated ponderings, “If it disappeared shortly after Voldemort murdered her…”

Hermione caught onto the thought process and nodded vigorously. “That means that Voldemort himself must have taken it,” she finished.

“Or at least one of his Death Eaters,” added Harry, scanning down the list of horcruxes once more without truly reading through it. “If Voldemort is hiding it, then we’ve got no hope of getting our hands on it. He’ll probably have all sorts of protection…”

“But Voldemort himself can’t possibly be hiding it,” Hermione said, flipping open one of the dark books that the trio had been given by Remus Lupin. She read aloud:

“A creator of a horcrux cannot be near the item physically after its creation. This closeness or contact would cause severe physical and mental distress; enough to leave the witch or wizard incapable of using magic while in the vicinity of the horcrux.”

Ron and Harry were both silent for a moment after she finished.

“So,” Ron began again, surprising his companions once more at his speech, “That would mean that Voldemort couldn’t keep the cup near ‘im. So even if he did have one of his Death Eaters take it, he couldn’t personally protect it.”

“The place where the horcrux is then,” Harry said, a little loudly as his excitement grew at a realization, “Would be a place where Voldemort would be completely unable to go. If we went there it would be impossible for him to stop us. We wouldn’t have to worry about him attacking.”

Hermione nodded brusquely. “That’s right, but you’ve got to remember that his followers are just as dangerous, Harry. They may not be as powerful as him, but they’re still powerful enough to kill us if we aren’t prepared.”

“We’ve taken on Death Eaters before!” Harry defended, irritated that his excitement had been shot down. “Load of times! We’re not kids anymore, Hermione. We can handle them.”

Hermione frowned at Harry’s recklessness. She understood it, but it was still frustrating. “So you’re telling me that if twenty Death Eaters were to attack us, you actually think that three to twenty is fair odds? Don’t tell me you’re that foolish.”

Harry scowled. She had a point, but he had known that already. He was just so tired of sitting and reading and researching. He wanted to find the horcruxes and destroy them. It wasn’t as if they had all the time in the world to accomplish that goal! Couldn’t Hermione see that they were running out of time?!

Seeing Harry’s exasperated look, Hermione forced herself to be less correcting of him. “Harry. There’s no doubt that Voldemort has the horcrux’s hiding place very well protected. There will be more than Death Eaters waiting for us if we go recklessly forward. Besides, we don’t even no where it is at this point.”

“We don’t know where any of them are!” Harry exclaimed, feeling hopeless for a moment. “How will we ever find them? We’ve got no clue as to the location of any of them.” He clasped fists around his knees and dug his fingers into his jeans to calm his swelling feeling of self-doubt.

“Actually, I do have an idea where one might be,” Hermione stated. She smiled softly as the statement earned a hopeful look from Harry and an intrigued one from Ron. She grabbed a long sheet of parchment. Upon it were gobs of her scribbled handwriting, which appeared to be in chunks and unintelligible notes.

“Do you remember that one of the other horcruxes had to be either of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor’s?” Hermione inquired and she fingered through her notes. The two boys nodded and Hermione continued. “Well I did a great deal of research on Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaws history and possessions. A few things seemed to pop out. For instance, Gryffindor’s sword seemed possible; but then I found a story about Ravenclaw that was very interesting. She had a diadem.”

“A whatsit?” Ron asked suddenly, looking perplexed. Harry’s confusion was no less.

Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement. “A diadem. It’s like a crown or a tiara.”

Ron snorted, making Harry chuckle. It had been a while since his friend had displayed any true emotion, so even a snort was pleasing to hear.

“Anyway,” Hermione started again, “Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem was stolen by her daughter, Helena Ravenclaw, who was later known as the Grey Lady, ghost of Ravenclaw House. You remember her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Harry replied, remembering the silent, gowned ghost who had never spoken to him as long as he’d been at Hogwarts.

Hermione continued to peruse her notes. “After running away with her mother's tiara, Helena was pursued by her then-suitor, the Bloody Baron.”

Ron and Harry made disgusted faces, but Hermione ignored them.

“Shortly before he caught up with her in an Albanian forest, Helena hid the Diadem in a tree. When Helena refused the Baron's advances, he killed her. Horrified by what he'd done, he killed himself. Years later, Helena's spirit was tricked into revealing the Diadem's resting place by the charming Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry’s ears perked up immediately and the scowl from earlier returned to his face. “Volemort.”

Hermione nodded grimly. “Riddle traveled to Albania and acquired the Diadem, transforming it into a Horcrux. Later, when he returned to Hogwarts to request from Dumbledore the Defence Against the Dark Arts position and when he cursed said position, he hid Ravenclaw's Horcrux in the one place that he believed he alone knew about, the Room of Requirement.”

“The place where we held those Dumbledore’s Army meetings?” Ron gasped.

“The same,” Hermione replied.

“But how would we be able to get it out of there?” Harry frowned. “Could we just wish to see the diadem and it will appear behind the doors?”

Hermione shrugged helplessly. “I’ve got no clue. The only way we’ll truly know is if we go and see. For all we know, the horcrux could have been removed when the Death Eaters came to the castle through the Room of Requirement last year.”

“It’s still worth a shot,” Harry said.

“Well then I guess that’s where we’ll start our search,” Hermione concluded. “Now, remember what I told you about how to destroy a horcrux, Harry. It’s very complicated.” She pointed her finger up into the air severely.

“Merlin, Hermione!” Harry cried dramatically as if she had just stabbed him. “You’ve told me so many times my ears will fall off if I hear it again!” He grinned at her affronted expression.

Hermione smiled at the display of levity. “Still, Harry, we don’t want to mess up. The results could be catastrophic. No one really knows what would happen if you were to incorrectly try to shatter the bond of a horcrux from its object.”

“Well I’ve already destroyed one,” Harry muttered, “I should be a pro by now.”

“You didn’t even know it was a horcrux,” Hermione countered.
”Ignorance was bliss back then,” Harry answered as he stood, sounding remarkably jaded. “Let’s get going then. We can’t disapparate Hogwarts from here, and I’m bloody well ready to get out of this house.”

The other two nodded and Hermione decided to let the topic drop until they reached Hogwarts. Heading down the stairs from the library, the trio glanced around once more at the uninviting interior of Grimmauld Place before walking out the front door.

“And here I thought we weren’t going back to Hogwarts this year,” Ron grumbled quietly.

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When they arrived just outside the anti-apparation wards of Hogwarts, the trio was momentarily stunned at the sight of the majestic castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They took a reticent moment of remembrance as they stared at the unchanged grounds. It was as if nothing had changed, yet it felt like so many years had passed since they’d last set foot on these grounds.

Harry took a hesitant step forward. It was odd being there; no longer a student. The Weasleys had informed him that Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, had grudgingly decided to reopen the school, though many students—or most likely their parents—had decided not to attend this year.

Ginny had informed them that the school was almost empty in comparison to their former years of schooling. The most that had returned were Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. One group afraid to show cowardice, the other afraid to miss a year’s education.

The three trudged slowly up to the castle’s entrance. Harry noted that Hagrid’s hut, which had been set on fire the year previously, had been put right once more. It really was as if nothing had happened. Harry felt oddly annoyed.

They had not taken it upon themselves to think to send McGonagall an owl alerting her of their arrival. At the time they had not thought of it, feeling it unnecessary and time-consuming. But now, as they pushed open the great doors of the entrance hall and entered a world that had once been their home, they now felt as if their surroundings were alien and far away, causing them to regret not announcing themselves before hand.

The school was bustling with the sounds of happy students from the Great Hall, but it was otherwise silent and peaceful. They almost felt like they were intruding upon something; like they were being wrong and indecent to bring the trouble of the outside world into such a sanctuary. That’s how Ron and Hermione felt, at least. Harry was traveling through a tumult of very different feelings.

As the Boy-Who-Lived entered Hogwarts, he felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. He’d half-expected to see dark, lifeless halls, with the stains of blood from his shoes as he’d run to chase Snape and Draco still on the floor as if that fateful night had happened only last night, and not so many months ago.

However, the blood was gone and the halls were bright and filled with cheery sounds of content silence and giggling children.

It didn’t seem right. Harry felt a wave of rage rush over him. It was similar to what he felt for those at the Ministry of Magic, where they constantly covered up everything and denied the reality of Voldemort’s rising. Hen was also angry, and perhaps sad, at the fact that he knew no Dumbledore resided here. Nor, he thought with a confusing feel of regret and disgust, was Snape. The absence of the two men was palpable to him; both absences speaking multitudes to Harry. The emptiness screamed at Harry, berating him and mocking him, laughing in his face.

Harry, of course, knew all of these overwhelming emotions to be idiotic and unwarranted, but he still felt a lingering whisper of them and he crunched them down into the back of his mind as he started to ascend the stairs with Ron and Hermione to McGonagall’s office.

McGonagall had been shocked, to say in the least, at the trio’s appearance.

“Why in the devil are you wandering around unprotected?” she screeched. Ron shrunk back in mock fear. “You should be with members of the Order! Merlin’s Beard, if Molly knew you three were wandering around so casually!”

“We’re not wandering around casually,” retorted Harry. “This is the only place we’ve been besides Grimmauld Place and the Burrow.”

McGonagall’s initial shock seemed to have died down and her expression was now one replaced with pity and relief. “It’s wonderful to see you again,” she said finally, “This must be so hard for you. Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, Professor,” Hermione answered politely, opening her mouth to say more. The Headmistress cut her off.

“As it seems,” the wizened old lady said, “You are no longer students of this school.” She said this with a bit of a face, as if she had tasted something rather unfriendly to the gullet. The three looked at their feet bashfully. They’d had a reason not to return, but it was still rather shameful—not completing one’s education.

“So,” McGonagall continued, “I am not your Professor. Besides, if I am anything at this critically point in our history, it is your comrade.” She smiled, something that the three teens had not often seen her do. This strange occurrence prompted them to smile as well. “So call me Minerva,” she finished quickly, looking flustered at the show of affection.

She waved her hand through the air dismissively, looking up at the picture of Albus Dumbledore as a distraction. The old man was currently snoozing in the portrait, his half-moon spectacles lingering on the precipice of falling off his nose. Harry shared her stare for a moment, a twinge of accepted pain biting at his heart.

“Well then,” Minerva announced suddenly as if she was about to give a speech. “What was it that you came here for?”

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Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood outside the wall of the Room of Requirement, staring nervously at the stone wall.

So they were finally going to face a horcrux.

Would it even be there? Had the Death Eaters already taken it? Would they even know which room to think of to make the right one appear? Would the Room of Requirement even allow them to enter it?

Hundreds of questions buzzed through the teens’ minds as they walked back and forth in front of the wall.

One…two…three times.

Slowly, they felt the crackle of magic as a door began to fade onto the wall as if it was building itself from nothing. Spiraling and twisting metals framed the elaborate opening and a smooth, elegant door handle rose from the surface.

Glancing back and forth at his companions, Harry grabbed the knob and pulled.

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Eek gads! They’re actually doing something! Sorry about that semi- cliff-hanger. It wasn’t that bad, but this is where things start to get interesting. I know Voldie wasn’t in this chapter, but I’m sick of writing slash that only focuses on the two involved and there’s no outside story.

Besides, this has a lot to do with the two of them anyways. :P

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