Tired of Waiting

Tired of Waiting

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Disclaimer: Everything you see belongs to JK Rowling. I write for pleasure not for profit, and am not making a Knut out of this.

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Many thanks to my Beta Snarkyroxy for her time, energy and trouble.

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Harry was dreaming. Voldemort was in the room, trying to convince Harry to join forces with him.

'Think how powerful we would be together,' Voldemort hissed softly.

'No, go away.'

'It will be easier for you if you join me willingly,' he persisted.

'I said no.'

'So be it. Then I shall take you anyway.'

'NOOO!.'

'Harry! Wake up, mate.' Harry awoke to find Ron shaking him. 'It's okay, Harry. It was just a dream.'

Hermione came into the room. 'Are you all right? I heard screaming.'

'Yes, I'm all right,' Harry replied wearily. 'It won't happen again tonight.'

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked, 'How long has this been going on?'

'A few months,' Harry admitted, 'but this is the first night he really got through to me. He wants to take over my body.'

'Harry, you must start doing your Occlumency exercises again,' Hermione said worriedly.

Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed. 'You're right, I should. Will you help me, Hermione?'

'Of course I will,' Hermione replied. 'Now try and get some sleep; we'll talk about it tomorrow.'

* * *

Over breakfast the next morning, the trio discussed the note that had accompanied the Horcrux.

'The Old Crow is obviously Rowena Ravenclaw,' said Ron. 'You don't have to be a genius to work that out.'

'Agreed,' said Hermione. 'Whoever sent the Horcrux took a risk that it wouldn't be intercepted. The note was cryptic enough for us to understand but would puzzle anyone else.'

'And diamonds?' Harry asked. 'Some sort of jewellery, perhaps?'

'Possibly,' Hermione agreed, 'although the only portraits I've ever seen of Rowena Ravenclaw show a rather severely-dressed, elderly witch. She was known for her intellect, not her ability to accessorise.'

The boys laughed. 'Well,' said Harry, 'looks like you'll have to hit the books again.'

Hermione feigned horror at the suggestion. 'The things I do for you, Harry James Potter!'

**********************

Now that they had some idea what they were looking for, Hermione took up the search for the Ravenclaw Horcrux in earnest. She quickly exhausted the material in the Black family library; every picture of Rowena Ravenclaw she located depicted her as a wise old witch with not a diamond in sight. There was nothing else for it. She would have to ask Professor McGonagall for permission to visit Hogwarts' library.

Minerva had been delighted to learn that her star pupil was keeping up with her studies and was only too happy to grant Hermione her request.

'Now, what's all this about, Miss Granger? Something to do with the schoolwork you're missing, no doubt?' Minerva smiled at the young witch sitting across the other side of her desk.

'Indeed,' Hermione lied. She glanced at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. She could have sworn his eyes opened slightly. 'Has he...?'

'Not a word, I'm afraid,' Minerva sighed. 'I do wish he would wake up. I miss talking to the old goat.'

'We all miss him, Professor.'

'I know, dear.' Minerva smiled sadly. 'Now, off you go. Madam Pince will be happy to see you, I'm sure. She's always saying how empty the library seems without you curled up in a corner somewhere.'

Over the next week or so, Hermione searched the Hogwarts library. The Spring Term had already started, so she tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. Word soon got out, however, that Hermione Granger was in the school. She had deliberately avoided her old school mates, as she knew they would only ask questions she would be unable or unwilling to answer, but that didn't stop them from seeking her out.

Everyone wanted to know where Harry was, of course. The press had been less than kind, calling into question his loyalty and bravery – particularly since the Azkaban breakout. Death Eater attacks were on the increase and Harry Potter was... where exactly? The public wanted to know. Hermione was, therefore, not surprised when Luna approached her.

'I can't tell you where Harry is, Luna.' Hermione thought a pre-emptive strike might be the best course of action to take.

'I know,' said Luna. 'What are you looking for?'

Why do you have an uncanny knack for asking perceptive questions? 'I'm just doing a bit of research, that's all.'

'I may be able to help,' Luna persisted.

Hmm. You are a Ravenclaw... 'Okay. I'm looking for information on the Founders' early lives – portraits in particular.'

'Hogwarts: A History?' Luna offered.

''Fraid not. Nothing early enough,' Hermione replied.

'Oh, I see.' Luna twirled one of her radish earrings in thought. 'There's a portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw as a young woman in the Common Room. If that's any help.'

'Really? What's it like?'

'Sparkly,' said Luna dreamily.

'Are there any photos of it, Luna?' Hermione demanded.

'I've never seen one. But I'll take one if you like. I'm sure she won't mind.'

'Would you? It would be a great help if you could.'

'Where should I send it?' Luna asked innocently.

Hermione grinned. 'Nice try. Give it to Professor McGonagall. She'll see it gets to me. And thanks again, Luna.'

'You're welcome,' Luna laughed, 'but I want an exclusive interview for the Quibbler when the time comes.'

'You'll have it, Luna. I promise.'

* * *

After saying goodbye to Luna, Hermione made her way back to the Headmistress' office. She was in no particular hurry. She had spent the best years of her life within the castle walls; it was her second home. Hermione couldn't help but feel she was missing out on so much as she stepped onto the spiral staircase. She should be here, studying, planning a successful future, not worrying about some crazed would-be dictator trying to destroy her world. She knocked on the door.

Entering the office, Hermione could see that something was horribly wrong by the look on Professor McGonagall's face.

'Oh, my dear girl,' Minerva began. 'Sit down, please. I'm afraid I've just received some terrible news.'

Hermione remained standing. 'What's happened?' she asked, already fearing the worst.

'There's no easy way for me to say this. I'm sorry to have to tell you that your parents were killed by a Death Eater earlier today.'

Hermione said nothing for a moment, unable to take it in. 'Just one? Where were the Aurors?' she eventually asked as her eyes started to fill up.

'He disguised himself,' Minerva replied, 'Polyjuice Potion.'

'A p-potion?' The room seemed suddenly airless. 'Do they think it was Prof – Snape?'

'There is that possibility, yes.'

Hermione couldn't breathe. If Severus had had any part in this... If he had so much as brewed the potion... She reached her hand out, frantically seeking some kind of support. There was none. She saw Minerva move towards her, and then everything went black.

**********************

The Disillusioned figure stood at a safe distance from the crematorium. The place was stiff with Aurors. This was as close as he dared get. Severus watched as the hearses drew up to the door of the chapel followed by the funeral cars. He didn't recognize the bearers.

Muggles, he surmised, friends of the Grangers.

Hermione got out of the first car flanked by Harry and Ron. Severus noted all the mourners in attendance and shook his head in disbelief. Half the Order was there, including the Weasleys, Minerva, various staff members, and an assortment of sixth and seventh years.

Merciful Merlin! Have they all taken leave of their senses?

Severus thought it was just as well the Dark Lord was a megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur. Voldemort had dismissed Lucius' idea of an attack at the funeral, not because it wasn't a sound plan, but because he had some grandiose vision of himself storming Hogwarts, and turning it into his seat of power. Voldemort did not want to go down in the annals of history as having commenced his reign of terror at a crematorium in Muggle London. But still, it was a pretty stupid move by Minerva et al to provide such a tempting target.

Severus looked at the small figure of Hermione walking behind the coffins as the procession moved towards the building. Voldemort had ordered him to observe the funeral, but he would have come anyway. He wanted to be there for Hermione, even if she wasn't aware of his presence.

Although she looked sad, Hermione did not look beaten. She held her head up as someone took her photograph. Harry and Ron moved towards the photographer, angry at the intrusion, but Hermione held them back. Severus took a risk and moved closer to try to hear what she was saying.

'No,' Hermione shook her head. 'I want everyone to see that this hasn't broken me, or driven a wedge between us.'

Severus watched as Ron Weasley put his arm around Hermione. He was glad she had the support of her friends, but there was something a bit too possessive about the gesture that made Severus uneasy.

That should be me, he thought jealously, 'she should be looking to me for comfort not Ron sodding Weasley. Feeling helpless and saddened by the whole affair, Severus Apparated to Voldemort's side to give his report.

*********************

Hermione sat on the sofa in the parlour at number twelve, only vaguely aware of the activity around her. Up until the funeral, she had managed to keep busy. There were the arrangements to sort out, solicitors to see, and the house to close up. She had barely cried. She felt numb. It seemed so unreal; even after the finality of the funeral, it still felt like some horrible dream. Hermione knew everyone meant well, but she wished they would all go now and leave her alone.

Harry sat down next to her and held her hand. Of all people in the room, he was the only one who could have any idea of what she was going through.

'We're worried about you,' Harry said.

'Don't be, 'Hermione replied. 'I'll be all right.' She smiled at her friend. Harry never knew his parents, Hermione reminded herself, I must try to be thankful that I had them for eighteen years.

Molly Weasley was busying herself handing out the tea and ham sandwiches. She offered a cup to Hermione.

'No, thank you, Mrs Weasley, I'm not thirsty.'

Ginny took the cup and saucer off her mother and sat down on the other side of Hermione.

'I haven't seen you eat or drink anything since breakfast,' Ginny scolded. 'You'll make yourself ill. Now drink this. That's an order.'

Hermione didn't have the strength to argue with her. She noticed the look of gratitude Harry gave Ginny, and how she smiled back at him.

So, there is still a chance for those two. Good. I'm glad there's still some love left in the world.

Hermione sipped the tea. 'Blah! Sugar. Mum would have a fit...' And that was what it took to finally break the dam. With choking sobs, Hermione leant on Harry's shoulder and wept until she had no more tears left to cry with.

* * *

Hermione gave herself a good talking to the next day before she went down to breakfast. Molly had badgered her into taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion, and she had to admit that she felt better after a good night's sleep.

Although she accepted that her grief was not going to disappear overnight, Hermione was determined not to let it eat her up. This was no time to sit about moping. Her parents would not have wanted that. No, she had a life ahead of her, and there were things she intended doing with it. Firstly, she was going to help Harry rid the world of Voldemort and get justice for her parents' murder. Secondly, she was going to resume her education, and then have a glittering career in whatever field she chose. Oh, yes, she would show them. If it took a hundred years, the name of Granger was going to mean something in the wizarding world and woe betide anyone who got in her way.

She was, therefore, in no mood to put up with Harry and Ron fussing around her at breakfast, and she quickly lost patience with them.

'Harry, Ron, we have a job to do. I'll feel a lot better if I can just focus on finding the Horcrux. Now, as I told you, I was talking to Luna...'

'Oh, that reminds me,' Harry interrupted, 'she gave me something yesterday to give to you. Accio Luna's envelope.' The small packet flew through the open door and landed on the table. Hermione opened it.

'Wow. Look at this.' Sparkly was right. The photograph showed a young Rowena decked out to the nines in full dress robes. She had obviously never heard the expression 'Less is more.' She was dripping in diamonds.

'Scrubs up nice, doesn't she?' said Ron. 'I had no idea. I've always thought of her as an ugly old hag.'

'Ron,' Hermione said reproachfully, 'show some respect.'

'Sorry.' Ron looked at the photo again. 'She must have been absolutely loaded.'

'Hmm,' Harry pondered. 'What, if anything, would appeal to Voldemort?'

'Well,' Hermione said, 'take your pick.' She was dazzled by the display of opulence. As well as the jewellery, there were diamonds sewn into her robes and shoes. Her hair was sparkling with tiny gems, too.

Harry scrutinized the photo. Something stirred in his memory that he couldn't quite grasp.

Hermione started to think out loud. 'I doubt he would choose the bracelets, or the brooch, or the earrings. It could be the necklace, but my money's on the tiara.'

'Any particular reason?' Harry enquired.

'The tiara sort of crowns her, and she was famous for her intellect.' Hermione replied, 'I think it would be fitting to choose something she used to wear on her head.'

'Okay. That makes some sort of sense,' Harry agreed. 'Any ideas where to look for it?'

'I'll do another search of the library, and if all else fails, I'll ask Luna. There may be some legend attached to it that a Ravenclaw would know about.'

'Fine,' said Harry, 'but not today.' He held up his hands as Hermione protested. 'No buts. You're worn out; you need some time to yourself. One day isn't going to hurt.'

'All right,' Hermione gave in. 'I'll be in my room if you need me.'

**********************

Despite practicing his Occlumency exercises, Harry's nightmares had continued. Most nights, he managed to block Voldemort from pushing too far into his subconscious mind, but more often than not, he woke up screaming like a banshee. Ron and Hermione decided it would be a good idea to take it in turns to stay with him, and wake him up before it got to the screaming stage.

One night on Hermione's watch, Voldemort smashed through Harry's Occlumency shields. She watched as her friend started writhing around on the bed as he usually did, leant over and put her hand out to shake him. Hermione became aware that Harry was not making the usual moaning noises; instead, he was hissing like a snake. In the nick of time, she realised what was going on.

'RON!' Hermione managed to scream at the top of her lungs just before Harry grabbed her around the throat and pulled her onto the bed.

Ron was there in a seconds. 'Harry! Let her go.' Ron tried to prise Harry's fingers from Hermione's neck, but they gripped tighter. Harry's eyelids opened. To Ron's horror, he saw two red eyes staring hatefully at him.

'HARRY! FOR GODS' SAKE, WAKE UP!' Ron yelled.

Harry kept his grip on Hermione and hissed at Ron.

Ron could see that Hermione was rapidly losing consciousness and that he had to act quickly. With all his strength, he punched Harry squarely on the jaw. It had the desired effect. Harry let go, cursing loudly. Hermione slid off the bed and crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

Harry came to his senses, wondering why his jaw hurt like hell, and why his two friends were on the floor by the side of his bed.

'Ron?'

Ron looked up at Harry noticing with relief that his eyes were their customary green then turned his attention to the unconscious figure of Hermione beside him.

'You almost killed her,' Ron whispered.

'What?' Harry had no idea what was going on.

Ron told him what happened.

'Voldemort,' Harry said simply.

'Red eyes, Parseltongue. Yes, I'd say so.'

Hermione began to stir.

'Don't try and move, Hermione,' Ron said. 'You're going to be okay.'

'Water,' Hermione managed to croak.

Ron summoned a jug of water and gently supporting Hermione's head, held the tumbler to her mouth while she sipped from it.

'Hermione, I'm so sorry.' Harry was horrified at his actions.

''S not your fault,' she said hoarsely and tried to swallow. 'Can one of you... cast a... Healing Charm... on my throat, please?'

Harry reached for his glasses with one hand and grabbed his wand with the other. Hermione felt the constriction in her throat ease.

'Thank you, Harry.' Hermione smiled at him. 'Are you okay now?'

'He's gone for the moment,' Harry replied, 'but I don't know if I can keep him at bay much longer, and I'm scared I may hurt one of you again. I don't know what to do.'

'We'll think of something,' said Hermione, getting to her feet. 'Don't worry.'

Harry rubbed his jaw. 'That was some punch, Ron.'

'Sorry, mate,' said Ron sheepishly.

'That's okay. I'd have done the same thing. I don't suppose one of you could...'

Hermione picked up her wand and performed a Healing Charm. 'Better?'

'Much.'

'Good. Now get some sleep.'

Harry grinned. 'Yes, Mum.'

Hermione ruffled his hair in response then left the room, closely followed by Ron. Once they were outside, Hermione turned to Ron and burst into tears.

'Oh, God, Ron, I thought we'd lost him.'

Ron put his arms around her, 'It's okay, Hermione, it's okay.'

Hermione put her head on his chest and sobbed, 'When is this all going to end?

'Soon,' Ron replied, holding her closer. 'You'll see.'

Hermione didn't know how much more she could take. Her parents, Severus, Dumbledore, maybe Harry – who else was she going to lose before this war was over? Hermione leaned into Ron and took comfort in his arms. There he was again, as always, just when she needed him, as steady as a rock. She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat as he rocked her gently.

Safe.

Since her parents' murder, Hermione had tried to rein in her feelings for Severus, because although she hoped with all her heart that he was innocent, she knew she would never be able to forgive him if he had been involved in their deaths. On top of that, in the unlikely event he survived the approaching conflict, Severus would get a one-way ticket to Azkaban for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. She had to face facts. They had no future. It was hopeless. Whichever way she looked at it, Severus Snape was a killer and would be punished accordingly. She couldn't still love him, could she?

Ron was here. Severus was not and never likely to be. Hermione didn't want to be alone anymore. She turned her head to look at Ron and ran her hands over his chest, his broad muscular chest, admiring it as she did so.

When did Ron get a body?

Hermione put her arms around his neck. Ron did not object, so she pulled his head down towards her and kissed him softly on the lips.

'Hermione? What are... I mean, I... Are you sure?

'Yes, Ron, I'm sure.'

Ron looked at Hermione's puffy red eyes and blotchy, tear-stained face and thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. He knew he was being used, and he didn't give a toss. Given time, he was sure Hermione would forget all about Severus Snape and grow to love him instead. She was bound to come to her senses eventually, and he, Ron, would be there for her. Yes. That was all she needed. Time. Without saying another word, Ron lifted Hermione into his arms and carried her to his bed.

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning with the sun streaming through the window from the wrong direction. Momentarily disoriented, she turned over to see Ron already awake and smiling at her.

'Any regrets?' he asked.

'None. You?'

He kissed her by way of reply and grinned. 'I'm starving.'

Hermione smiled. 'I've never known you any different.'

'I thought of going to get some breakfast, but I didn't want to leave you,' Ron said.

'How considerate of you to put me before your stomach. I'm honoured.'

Ron grinned and got out of bed. 'What would you like, the Full Monty?'

Hermione looked him up and down. 'Tea and toast will do, thank you.'

Ron put on his dressing gown. 'I'll see you downstairs then.'

Hermione lay back on the bed. Last night had been... nice, reassuring, comfortable. There hadn't been any fireworks, but then again she hadn't expected any. It will work, she told herself. Give it time. That's all it needs. Time.

* * *

Half an hour later, Hermione went down to breakfast. It was obvious that Ron had already told Harry they had spent the night together. Harry gave Hermione a big hug, apologised again for hurting her, and then said how happy he was that she and Ron were an item at long last.

Hermione sat down at the table, and Ron poured her a cuppa. 'Thanks, Ron,' she said, reaching for some toast. 'Did you manage to sleep okay, Harry?'

'Eventually,' Harry replied, 'but I'm worried he'll try again tonight.'

Hermione buttered her toast. 'I have a suggestion; it may help, it may not.'

'What is it?' Harry was prepared to consider anything.

'Meditation.'

'What? How is sitting cross-legged on the floor chanting going to help?'

Hermione sighed and nibbled her toast. 'You don't have to chant; in fact, you don't have to sit on the floor – cross-legged or otherwise.'

'O-kay,' said Harry, uncertainly, 'so how do you think it might help me?'

'It can help you focus your thoughts,' Hermione replied, 'That, in turn, may help to strengthen your ability to block Voldemort out of your mind.'

Harry mulled it over. 'All right,' he said finally, 'I'll give it a try.'

Which was how, late in the afternoon, Harry and Ron found themselves sitting opposite Hermione, cross-legged on the floor of the parlour.

'I thought you said we didn't have to sit on the floor,' grumbled Ron, stuffing a cushion between his back and the sofa to try and make himself more comfortable.

'You don't,' said Hermione, 'but you don't want to be too comfy either, at least to start with, or you'll just fall asleep.'

Meditation was something that had always been there in the background while Hermione was growing up, as Mrs Granger had been a regular practitioner. Although her mother had taught her the basics, Hermione had never really seen the benefit of stilling her young, active mind until fairly recently, as she could not see the point in wasting time thinking of nothing when there was so much to learn. The events of the past few months, however, had forced Hermione to reassess her life, and she had turned to meditation to help her think more clearly. Once she got into it, she had been pleasantly surprised to discover that it gave her a sense of peace and composure. It helped her relax when she was tense and helped her concentrate when she was faced with a weighty problem. It also brought Hermione comfort to be doing something that her mother had set such great store by, and so she had added it to her daily routine.

Harry was sceptical, but since he had nothing to lose, decided he would try to keep an open mind. Ron was there partly to give Harry some moral support and partly because he thought it would be a good move to show an interest in his new girlfriend's hobbies. Hermione had also told him that it might improve his chess game, so he was prepared to give it a go.

'Now,' Hermione began. 'Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths... Good. Now become aware of your breathing... Do not try to change it, just notice it... Notice the cool air entering your nostrils as you inhale... and the warm air leaving your nostrils as you exhale... just do that for a minute.' The boys dutifully followed her instructions. 'As thoughts enter your mind, notice them and let them go... If your thoughts wander off for any length of time, just come back to your breathing...'

After about ten minutes, Hermione opened her eyes. It was long enough for a first session, she thought. Harry was still sitting with his eyes closed breathing quietly. Ron had slumped against the settee and was snoring softly with Crookshanks, who had come into the room during the proceedings, curled up on his lap. Hermione's grief and despair over the last few months had not gone unnoticed by her half-Kneazle pet. Crookshanks was relieved that his mistress had managed to find herself such a nice young wizard to keep her safe. He liked Ron. Anyone who was ginger was okay by him.

'When you are ready,' Hermione said quietly, 'you can open your eyes.'

Harry slowly opened his eyes.

'How was that?' Hermione asked.

'I feel very relaxed,' Harry replied, 'though not as relaxed as Ron.' He gave his sleeping friend a shake.

'Try doing some Occlumency exercises now and see if you notice any improvement,' Hermione suggested.

'Okay,' Harry agreed, getting up, 'I'll let you know how it goes.'

* * *

Much to his surprise, Harry found that meditation did indeed help to improve his Occlumency skills. His nightmares continued, but Voldemort found it increasingly difficult to penetrate his sub-conscious mind. Harry practiced meditation with Hermione every day, and after each session his ability to focus his mind grew. Ron had given up after a few attempts. On the couple of occasions he had managed to stay awake, Ron had found the whole thing incredibly boring and decided his time would be better spent elsewhere.

Hermione had gradually increased the duration of the sessions from ten to twenty minutes. After two weeks, she decided to lengthen them to thirty. The first time he tried to go for longer than twenty minutes, Harry had the feeling that he was not alone in his mind. Thinking it was Voldemort, he quickly opened his eyes. As Hermione was still meditating, he decided to try again. This time he heard a voice, faint but unmistakeable.

Don't be afraid, Harry.

'Professor Dumbledore? It can't be. It's not possible.'

You are neither dreaming nor going mad.

'I... I don't understand.'

You are learning to focus your mind at long last, Harry. That is how I can reach you.

'Are you saying I'm some sort of Seer?'

There was a muffled laugh. No, my dear boy, I fear you have not been blessed with the gift of prophecy.

'What then?'

Tom Riddle forged a link with you when he tried to kill you. By proxy, you are linked to those parts of his soul that are free - those parts that have 'passed beyond the veil,' if you will. While Tom lives, you will have a connection to the Otherworld. You will be able to communicate with me, and your other loved ones, if you so choose.

'Mum, Dad, Sirius?'

Yes. But while time is no longer of any importance to me, time for you grows short. There is still much for you to learn, but we must wait until you are stronger. I do not want to overtax you.

'No, wait, don't go. There is so much I need to ask you.'

Very well. You may ask one question.

'Only one?' Harry thought frantically, 'The Ravenclaw Horcrux. Where is it?'

There was an ethereal chuckle. You already know the answer to that, Harry. You have held it in your hands.

'I have? Where?'

But there was no response.

* * *

Afraid that Hermione and Ron would think he had finally lost it, Harry decided not to tell them about his chat with Albus for the time being. Instead, he tried to remember where he might have seen the Horcrux. He spent a lot of time staring at the photo of Rowena Ravenclaw and wondering where he could possibly have handled a tiara. The answer finally came to him during one of the trio's duelling practices. They had been discussing defence strategies against some of the nastier hexes.

'We're going to have to learn to cast some of the darker curses in order to defend ourselves against them,' Hermione said.

'Agreed,' said Harry. 'Although I don't much like the idea, I don't think we have a choice. It's not as though the Death Eaters are going to throw Jelly-Legs Jinxes at us, is it?'

'Okay,' Ron agreed with his friends. 'What about some Severing Charms? What was that one you used on Draco, Harry? Sucsumsumpra or something?

'Sectumsempra,' Harry replied, 'but I don't know the counter-curse, so it's much too dangerous to practice.' He sighed, 'If only I had The Pri – I mean Snape's book...' He trailed off, realisation dawning.

'Harry, are you okay? Hermione asked, seeing the strange look that had come over Harry's face.

'Yes, I'm fine. I think I know where the tiara is.'

'What? Where?' Hermione and Ron asked almost simultaneously.

'Hogwarts,' Harry replied. 'The Room of Requirement. I saw it, I'm sure, when I hid Snape's Potions book. I'll have to go and retrieve it.'

'No,' said Hermione, 'you'll attract too much attention. I'll go.'

'But you won't find it, Hermione. You should see the stuff in there. The place is enormous, and I'm not sure I could give you directions.'

'Harry,' Hermione said with a hint of sarcasm, 'am I or am I not a witch?'

'Your point being?'

'Well,' Hermione explained patiently, 'If I stand inside the door and shout 'Accio! Rowena Ravenclaw's tiara', what do you think would happen?'

'Ah,' said Harry, grinning. 'I suppose that could work.'

**********************

'Well,' said Remus, examining the tiara, 'that just leaves Nagini.'

'Nagini,' Harry pondered out loud. 'How do I deal with Nagini?' He had tried to avoid thinking too much about the destruction of the final Horcrux until now. How on earth was he supposed to get anywhere near a snake that rarely strayed from Voldemort's side, never mind kill it?

'Does anyone have any ideas? Harry finally asked. There was silence. The others were equally stumped.

Hermione sighed. 'Even if we knew where Voldemort was hiding, we could hardly go charging in there, could we? It would be suicide.'

The others agreed.

'I think,' Remus said eventually, 'we've gone as far as we can on our own. It's time we told the Order about all this.'

Harry nodded. Now that all but one of the Horcruxes had been destroyed, there didn't seem much point in keeping it secret any longer.

'In that case,' Remus continued, 'I'll contact Minerva and bring her up to date. I'm sure she'll want to discuss it with you first, though, before calling a meeting.'

'Thanks, Remus,' said Harry. 'I'd appreciate that. She's less likely to shout at you than me for keeping this a secret from her.'

Remus chuckled. 'I wouldn't bet on it. She was my teacher, too, remember.'

* * *

Harry took off his glasses and lay down on his bed. He was tired, but dared not go to sleep without first preparing his mind for the inevitable onslaught. Concentrating on his breathing, as Hermione had taught him, he cleared his mind.

HARRY.

He jumped. 'Professor?'

YES, HARRY, ALTHOUGH UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES I THINK YOU SHOULD CALL ME ALBUS.

'There's no need to shout, sir, I can hear you loud and clear.'

Ah, in that case you must have destroyed another Horcrux. Am I correct?

'Yes, sir – I mean, Albus. Only the snake is left.'

That is good news, indeed. Now to more pressing matters. Tom will arrive soon, I feel.

'Yes,' Harry said resignedly.

This time, Harry, you are going to drive him away for good.

'I am? How?'

With love, Harry.

'What? You're not serious.'

I am deadly serious.

This was not the first time that Dumbledore had told Harry about the power of love. Harry had not been convinced then, and he was not convinced now.

'How is love going to do that?'

Albus paused. You must begin by putting aside all fear and hatred. To do this, you must firstly find it in your heart to forgive all those who have hurt and abused you in your life.

Harry liked the sound of this even less. 'What? Forgive the Dursleys for what they did to me, forgive Malfoy, forgive Snape?'

Harry, Albus patiently explained, I'm not asking you to condone their behaviour, but carrying around such hatred only harms you, not them. You must let it go. By forgiving, you are saying to yourself that you are not going to allow them to hurt you any more, and that you are ready to move on.

Harry was still doubtful. 'But... but Snape? You trusted him and he killed you.'

I still trust him, Harry, and he killed me because I ordered him to. Albus proceeded to tell Harry about Severus' Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy.

I was dying, Harry. I could not allow Severus to sacrifice his life or Draco's soul just to extend my life by a few days.

'But he... he's a Death Eater, a... a traitor. He told Voldemort about the prophecy. My parents died because of him. I still don't understand why you trust him.'

Harry sensed another presence. He knew instinctively who it was.

Perhaps I should answer that question, Albus?

Yes, my dear, I think it is time young Harry knew the truth.

'Mum?' Harry asked although he already knew the answer.

Yes, Harry. Now you must listen for time is running out. This will be hard for you to understand, but Severus Snape was my first love. He came to Godric's Hollow that night to try to save my life. Severus pleaded with Voldemort to spare me, and he agreed, but I could not stand by and watch you be killed. I had the choice, you see, to live or to die trying to protect you. I chose the latter, and by giving my life willingly, the Killing Curse rebounded off you. I died in your place.

'You loved Snape?'

I did, Lily replied, very much, and if times had been different, I might have married him instead of your father. But that is of little importance now. Severus vowed to avenge my death that night, and he will not rest until Voldemort is dead. Try to understand, Harry, that when Severus looks at you he is constantly reminded that I chose to die to save you. He finds that hard to forgive – me for dying and you for living. But Severus does not hate you, despite what you think, and he will do all in his power to protect you and ensure your victory over Voldemort when the time comes.

'You loved Snape? This was not a concept that Harry was going to grasp in a hurry.

Harry, Albus intervened, I realise we have given you much to think about, but for now I'm asking you to trust me. I sense that Tom is approaching. I want you to think about all the people in your life who you love and who love you and hold that feeling in your heart. This is the power you must harness, Harry. Put aside all hatred and fear - even of Tom himself – he understands those emotions only too well. He will feed on them and use them against you. He neither knows love nor understands its power. Show him the love in your heart and see what happens.

Harry soon felt the all too familiar and unwelcome presence of Voldemort creeping around the edges of his mind. Clammy fingers as cold as death began to probe his shields, searching for a way in. Instead of recoiling in fear from the invasion and mustering all the hatred in his power to keep Voldemort at bay, Harry followed Albus' advice. He thought of his parents, of Sirius, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. He thought of Albus, of the Weasleys, of Remus and his other friends. As he did so, Harry felt a strength flow through him that filled him with such raw power that he thought he would burst from the force of it. He saw the hatred and fear that he carried around with him for the useless burdens they were, and tossed them aside. Then he lowered his shields and let his unwanted guest in.

Voldemort was blinded by a light brighter than a million candles. It was his turn to scream in terror. He cowered as he felt a totally alien sensation engulf him, searing his mind with its virtue and purity of intention.

'Leave,' Harry said quietly, 'leave and don't come back.' He pushed gently eliciting another scream from his enemy. Harry watched as Voldemort backed away and retreated from his mind, never to return.

Well done, Harry, said Albus, well done, indeed.

Harry was exhausted from the effort but triumphant, 'It worked. I did it.'

Yes, you did. You have learned a valuable lesson tonight, my boy. Now I must leave you to get some rest. Remember what I said about forgiveness. We shall speak again before the battle.

'Wait, don't go yet. There is so much I want to ask you.'

What is it you wish to know?

Harry tried to think of a question. 'Um... um. What's it like there?' he asked eventually.

Where I am now? Albus replied, Oh it's grey, misty – a lot like Scotland, really, only warmer.

* * *

Harry awoke at dawn, feeling refreshed from sleep for the first time in years. He became aware of someone in the room breathing softly. Hermione had fallen asleep in the chair, waiting to wake him from the nightmare that never came.

He put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. How on earth am I going to explain all this to Ron and Hermione? Harry asked himself. Hey, you two, I had a long chat with Albus last night and guess what, I have to defeat Voldemort with love. Oh and by the way, Snape isn't really a traitor; in fact, he's still working for us and – you'll love this bit – my mum says that if things had been different, I'd be calling him Dad.

Harry shook his head. They'd have him in a full Body Bind and carted off to St. Mungo's faster that you could say 'Accio straitjacket'. He regarded the sleeping form of Hermione. The greasy git one of the good guys? She'll never buy it. Never in a million years.