Prophecies and Theories

A huge thank you to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood, for reading this over for me, Proulxes for the Britpick and for being my locations scout, and to EveryMystique, DuchessOfArcadia and Dandru, for combing through this and helping me clean up my mistakes. I really appreciate the beta help. Thank you very much.

Also, smooches and a big thank you to Jay for my banner! I really love it.

Prophecies and Theories

“So, you, follow me,” Ron said, indicating to Hermione that she follow him.

“But I want to know about Jenny!” Colin exclaimed.

“She’s fine,” Hermione stated, and Colin looked relieved. “She’s spending her holiday with Seamus’ family in Ireland.” Colin looked aghast as if she’d just told him Jenny was seeing another bloke. “It’s not like that, Colin,” Hermione quickly explained. “Many of the DA members are staying at each other’s houses – they thought it would be safer.”

Colin nodded but he still looked dejected. “Seamus – she loves Ireland.”

“C’mon, Hermione,” Ron said, taking her arm and leading the way to his room in the tent. Once she entered, he dropped the sheet of canvas dividing his room from the rest of the tent and walked past her. “I’ve set up all sorts of spells on the walls in here so Harry and I can talk privately if we need to,” he explained as he moved some clothes aside so she’d have a place to sit. “Oliver and Dean are on watch now so we can talk freely.”

If Hermione had blinked she’d have missed seeing the faint blue glow that emanated briefly as Harry came in and closed the flap. “You’ve used the spells I placed on your bedroom door at the Burrow so we could avoid your mum?” she asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Ron grumbled as he plopped down on his cot. “I watched you do them enough times to—”

Hermione quickly waved her hands as she said, “No, I didn’t mean it that way! It’s – that’s really complicated magic. I’m really amazed – I mean, I’m impressed. It’s great that you learned them.” She sat down next to Ron as Harry sat on the nearest cot. “So how is it that you have so many people with you? I thought it was only going to be just the three of us.”

“That was before you vanished,” Harry said, and she cringed at the coolness of his tone.

“The coins,” Ron said with a grin. “When you started contacting us, so did the others. We, Harry and me, met up with Dean first, as you know. He was hiding from the Snatchers. The Creeveys found us next, then it snowballed, I suppose. Oliver brought the girls, and Angelina passes information and stuff between Fred and George for us. Well, that was before they had to go into hiding, too.” He pulled out the Deluminator that Dumbledore had bequeathed him. “I can use this to find people, too, but we have to be careful for traps. Harry and me are wanted men.”

“They just have to say Ron’s name and this ball of light takes him there,” Harry said.

Ron nodded, pocketing his Deluminator. “By the way, Justin told us that there is a jinx on people who speak Ol’ Snake-face's name – you know the ‘V’ name – so that’s what we all call him now, You-Know-Who, Snake-face, or the Dark Lord. Harry calls him Tom like Dumbledore did.”

“I’ll remember, besides I’ve gotten used to calling him the Dark Lord now anyway,” Hermione said, and Harry scowled at her. “Okay, I want to know everything. How have you been? What have you been doing?”

“We’ve been trying to figure out the bloody Horcruxes, what else?” Harry snapped.

Hermione looked at her hands as she laced her fingers together. “I know, Harry, and I know it’s not easy. I wish I could be more help. That’s why I’ve been trying to make the mirrors all term.” She looked up, watching him relax. “That way I can look stuff up in the Daily Prophet archives and the old tomes on the founders at school.”

Ron put his hand over hers. “We know, Hermione. I was really proud of you for working them out.” He smiled slightly as he removed his hand, but Harry remained aloof, slouching, his forearms on his thighs with his hands clenched together. “Right after you disappeared, we met up with Remus. He and Tonks stayed with us at Grimmauld Place for a while. He knew that we had this task, offered to help, but he has his own task to do – you know – the werewolves. However, he and Tonks taught Harry and me how to Apparate, and Remus showed us how to do the Animagus transformations, because we convinced him we needed to know how. Harry’s a stag, like his dad, and I’m a Jack Russell terrier.”

“That’s great, Ron! So you both can do it!” Hermione exclaimed softly.

“It’s not so hard when you know the form you become,” Ron said, his ears turning pink. “Colin wanted to learn, he’s a raven. Dean is a huge, shaggy black dog; he said it’s a Bouvier des Flandres. None of the others can do it, though Dennis keeps trying. He almost did, I think. Well, he grew fur and shrunk. We think he’s a squirrel, maybe a small cat – hard to tell yet. Colin and Dennis can Apparate; those little guys are really good at anything you show him. They’re a lot like you, Hermione. They just get it on the first few tries.”

Hermione smiled, impressed. “He was always good in the DA. So, what about the search for the Horcruxes?”

Harry stared at his hands as he said, “So far we’re at a standstill. We have checked out any and every artifact thought or known to have belonged to Godric Gryffindor – and, yes, we’ve given up on the artifacts in the museum. So, we are assuming that the last one is something that belonged to Ravenclaw.”

“Only we don’t have much to go on with her stuff,” Ron said.

“And the cup?” Hermione asked, but she already knew the answer.

Harry shook his head. “Nope, no idea yet where it could be.”

“Dean and me, we’ve gone over every possibility,” Ron said. He slid off the cot to his knees, pulled out a rucksack and sat crossed-legged on the floor. He took a Muggle notebook out, setting it aside on the bed as he searched for something else, deep inside.

Hermione grinned as she watched his whole arm disappear into the bag. She looked at the notebook, idly opening the cover. “Where did you get this?”

“A Muggle was throwing it away. It’s right useful,” Ron said as he pulled out a promotional pen.

Hermione couldn’t help but notice that there were several tabs beside the four with the founders name on them: Places, Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, and Tom Voldemort Riddle. The last one was in Harry’s handwriting: Memories.

“It was full of this lined paper,” Ron said, catching her attention again. “Anyway, thanks to one of your books, I found a spell that will transfigure a leaf into another of these lined papers, if the leaf is big enough. That’s why I have a basket of them – in case I need more pages.”

She turned her head, spotting the basket leaves. “Impressive. Birch bark works, too,” Hermione said, turning each tab. “You’ve kept a lot of notes, Ron.”

“Yeah, you’ve finally rubbed off on me,” he said, his ears going pink again as he turned to the Tom Voldemort Riddle section. “I – it helps me keep everything straight. Anyway… I’ve written down everything we know about Ol’ Snake-face, and Harry wrote down everything remembered from the memories Dumbledore showed him. We searched London for the orphanage, and there were two possibilities: Wool’s Orphanage had been demolished to make way for an office block, and then there’s the Stockwell Orphanageon on Vauxhal Road, but that one doesn’t fit the memories – that and it was bombed out in that World War II. So neither is there anymore.”

“And Dumbledore searched all the places he’d seen in the memories, I’m sure of that,” Harry stated.

“Yeah, he would have, but I wanted to check anyway,” Ron stated. “So, our list of possibilities isn’t very long.”

Hermione looked at the page on his lap; most of the possible sites had been crossed off, such as Little Hangleton and Borgin & Burkes. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were apparently still an option as they hadn’t been, but… “Godric’s Hollow?” She looked up, confused. It was crossed off. “You went to Godric’s Hollow? I thought we’d agreed that was too risky,” she said, shocked that they’d go. “You know the Dark Lord would’ve had someone watching the place! What were you thinking—”

“I know you were against us going, but Harry really wanted to see the place, especially after reading the article in the paper about Rita’s book,” Ron said, cutting her off, and Harry scowled at him. “It was a fiasco,” he added, looking at Harry.

“I figured that if Tom had tried to make a Horcrux out of me, then he may have dropped it,” Harry said defensively, then mumbled, “It was a bad idea,” looking at his hands when one side of Ron’s mouth pulled back and his eyes narrowed.

Ron turned back to Hermione. “Well when her book came out, it made the best sellers list, and Rita was quoted all over the papers again, remember?” he asked, and Hermione nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Anyway, so we went, Harry, Dean and me, we went to Godric’s Hollow right after Halloween. There is a statue of Harry as a baby with his parents in the middle of town. We saw Harry’s parents’ graves and found the house.”

“I dunno how it was possible that I’d survived,” Harry said softly. “The roof was caved in and most of the upstairs was demolished.”

“This weird woman approached Harry, and he thought she was Bathilda Bagshot. You know the woman Rita quoted in the book?” Ron asked, but Hermione shook her head.

“I haven’t read the book,” she admitted.

“It’s all Jarvey insults and lies of a jobbernowl,” Harry sneered.

Ron gave Harry an odd look. “Anyway, Dean was suspicious of the wonky old woman. So was I, but we followed her to her house anyway. She didn’t say much, at least not to Dean and me, only whispered to Harry,” Ron said. “Dean and me, we were checking out the sitting room when Harry followed the woman toward the kitchen. Dean saw pictures of Gellert Grindelwald as a boy on her bookshelf, and he tried to ask the woman about him, but she only shook her head as if she didn’t know or something.”

“That’s odd,” Hermione said. “What happened next?”

“I had found Rita’s book on her side table and turned to show it to Harry, but Harry was following the wonky woman upstairs. Dean and me, we followed them because, well, at that point I didn’t trust the old hag – that’s when I heard Harry speaking Parsletongue – on the stairs above us, so I knew something was wrong. And there was some sort of Tripping Hex on the step before the landing – you had to use Parsletongue to get past… Anyway, when Dean and me finally got to the bedroom, we found ourselves fighting against this gianormous snake.”

“She wasn’t Bathilda – she was Tom’s snake, Nagini, in disguise. She just came out of the woman’s mouth – peeling away her body and clothes like shedding skin. It was gross,” Harry explained, and Hermione gasped. “Ron and Dean entered just as Nagini tried to bite me, and Ron tried to immobilize her, which, thankfully, made her miss me. We were firing spells at her, dodging her each time she lunged to strike back. I felt Tom’s anger and knew he was coming, so I cut her with Snape’s spell, the one I use on Draco, remember? Anyway, Ron and Dean blasted out the windows, so we jumped and Apparated. We barely made it out alive. Ron Splinched his shoulder.”

“Ron!” Hermione asked, gaping at him as she reached out her hand to touch his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, we had Dittany, remember, loads of it. Stopped the bleeding, but I’ve an indent where the scar is.” He waved his hand as if it was nothing. “Don’t feel it that much anymore. Oh, I had pocketed Rita’s book when I went upstairs,” Ron stated, then held up his hands. “It’s not stealing – she was dead. Anyway…”

“No, I’m glad you did.” Hermione wasn’t going to argue, she’d have taken the book as well under the circumstances. Ron pulled out the book, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore by Rita Skeeter, from under his mattress and handed it to her. It looked fairly well worn as if he’d read it a number of times. “It’s all in there.”

“Yeah, all her lies,” Harry snapped.

Hermione glanced at Harry, wondering what was wrong with him. He’d been waspish ever since they met up.

“You just don’t want to face the truth,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry glared at Ron, but Ron turned to Hermione. “He’s used Harry – Dumbledore did – from the beginning. The house in Godric’s Hollow was his house. It’s all in here,” he said, indicating the book. “He didn’t protect the Potters, he set them up – just waiting for Ol’ Snake-face to find them. He needed Harry ‘marked as an equal’ – so he made the protections weak.”

“What?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide, stunned that he’d accuse Dumbledore of such a thing. “You can’t mean that!”

“That’s his theory! He’s angry at Dumbledore,” Harry snapped back, “because he didn’t know what all the Horcruxes were.”

“And failed to tell us what we need to know to complete his quest: like how to destroy the bloody things, how to break down the defensive spells, about blood magic, how to detect Dark magic, or how to get the sword, or where the bloody things are,” Ron said fiercely as if this had been a long, ongoing argument between them. He turned to face Hermione, ignoring Harry’s scowl. “It’s all in here. Did you know that Dumbledore was best mates with Grindelwald, and Dumbledore believed in the view that wizards should dominate and control Muggles for their own good! He’s the one who coined the phrase, ‘for the greater good’!”

“I’ve read every book in the library on Dumbledore, and none of them mentioned he was friends with Grindelwald,” Hermione stated.

“Pulled them, then, I suppose,” Harry said with a smirk at Ron.

“He pulled every book on Horcruxes too, remember?” Ron shot back.

“You don’t mean that?” Hermione said, but it came out as a question. “He’d have them in his office…” She gasped, sudenly realizing something. “No, on the shelf in the sitting room! Severus doesn’t like me to look through those.” She’d always assumed – believed Severus when he’d told her that shelf was full of his dangerous and dark books.

“See, she knows where,” Ron said, to which Harry immediately snapped, “He’d have told me if he’d had a book on them!”

“No, I don’t,” Hermione said with a shake of her head, but she’d find out. That is if I return to school at some point. “Not really. The sitting room is full of books, and I haven’t really looked on those shelves...” Only now she knew she’d have to go back, even if just to check.

“See, I know that look – she does know,” Ron repeated, and Hermione looked at them. Ron was smiling, and Harry was glaring at him.

She decided to change the subject. “Viktor told me that Gellert Grindelwald was really into the Dark Arts, even as a student at the Durmstrang Institute, and that he’d been expelled for his illicit experiments,” Hermione said. “The stuff he was said to have done – and Dumbledore was friends with him?”

“Dean snatched a picture of Dumbledore and Grindelwald from Bagshot’s sitting room; they’re our age in the photo, same photo as in Rita’s book. According to Rita’s interview with the old hag, most likely just before Ol’ Snake-face killed her, Dumbledore and his mate Grindelwald parted ways only because Dumbledore’s sister died,” Ron said. He told her what the book said about Dumbledore's family and his friendship with Grindelwald. “But that’s not the worst of it.” He reached up to turn to the section labeled prophecy in his notebook.

The first page of the section was blurred to the point of being unreadable. “What’s written here?”

“Ron’s theory,” Harry mumbled, his tone harsh.

Hermione looked up. “What theory?” She thought that was what they’d been discussing.

“I think Dumbledore used the prophecy to create Harry,” Ron said and tapped his wand on the page as he added, “Do a Weasley.”

“What do you mean, Dumbledore created Harry?” The words on the page slowly became clearer, and she realized that she was looking at the prophecy.

“He has this crazy idea that Dumbledore set up my parents to be killed,” Harry snapped.

“It’s not crazy,” Ron shot back.

“Is too,” Harry retorted hotly.

“Not—”

“Guys!” Hermione interrupted. She turned to Ron, crossing her legs to get comfortable. “Why don’t you tell me what your theory is?”

Harry ran his hand through his hair as Ron sighed heavily. “It’s like this – the prophecy. With all the digging we’ve done trying to sort out this mess with the Horcruxes, the missing pieces, well, we ran into a few bits of information.”

“You have; I still believe Dumbledore,” Harry said angrily.

Ron ignored his outburst. “It’s like this. From what we,” Ron started to say but Harry huffed loudly, “okay, I’ve sorted out, the war was going really badly at the end of the seventies. You-Know-Who, and don’t say his name, remember it has a tracking spell on it. Anyway, He was winning. Bill and Charlie remember hearing about it as kids, even though Mum tried to hush it up so that they wouldn’t have nightmares. Percy says he remembers some of it too, but he was five when You-Know-Who attacked the Potters.”

Hermione nodded, quickly adding things up. “Charlie was what, nine or ten? He’d left Hogwarts the year before we started. So, Bill would’ve been… ten – eleven?”

“Yep, eleven, his first year at Hogwarts,” Ron stated. “Dumbledore was losing people, Remus, my parents, even Sirius told us that, remember? Mum and Dad even explained it all to you when you had nightmares before our fifth year. Anyway, sometime before Harry was born, Rita thinks it was in 1979, suddenly Dumbledore gets this interview with Trelawney. Only she starts to go all wonky and tells him this prophecy.”

“Dumbledore told me he didn’t put much store in prophecies,” Harry blurted out.

“He also told you he liked getting socks for Christmas,” Ron countered, then turned and put his elbow on the cot so he could look at Hermione. “And this prophecy tells him that ‘the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord comes,’ and all, and Dumbledore gets some hope that there would be someone who could do it, take Him out. Kill him.”

Ron dug into a rucksack again and pulled out his old Divination book, then opened it to a marker. “It’s in here; prophecies are made up of four parts: they have Identifiers – who is the person or persons of the prophecy; Qualifiers – who or what meets the qualifications; the Conditions that have to happen in order to make them come true, and they tell you of the event that could or will happen if the Qualifiers and the Condition are met.” He handed her the book. “See. I know you think Divination is wonky, but it’s there. Trelawney’s prophecy has all the parts. The identified person is Ol’ Snake-face; he’s mentioned by name, the Dark Lord. The other person is the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. Then she gives the Qualifiers; he’s born to parents who defied Ol’ Snake-face three times and is born as the seventh month dies.” He tapped the book. “Harry.”

“Or Neville,” Harry snapped.

Ron turned to look at him. “Not if you take it literally,” he said and turned back to Hermione. “It’s Harry, no question. If Neville was born on thirty-first of July, too, he’d have been an option, but he was born on the thirtieth of July, one day too early.”

“But he fits,” Hermione said, “the end of the month.”

“No, take it literally; his birthday would have to be the thirty-first, as the month dies. The last day. There is a spell that determines a witches due date, based upon the developing physical and magical changes – it’s really accurate. Right down to the hour labor will start. Mum uses it all the time when she’s helping a friend or neighbor; she was a Healer, you know, before Percy was born. Anyway, there is the condition: in order for the prophecy to come true, in order to magically enact the Fates to the events foretold in the prophecy, the Qualifiers and the Conditions have to be met. In this case, Ol’ Snake-face had to mark Harry as his equal – and he did.”

“But even though it all fits, it doesn’t mean Dumbledore set them up!” Hermione said, glancing at Harry who standing now with his arms crossed. He nodded at her with a satisfied smirk as she pointed out, “He captured Pettigrew and made him confess the location of the house. We know this, Ron, it’s not anything new.”

“I think that Dumbledore made sure that the prophecy came true. I think he did what he could to ensure it would,” Ron stated, and Hermione stared at him in shock. “Hear me out, okay?”

Hermione nodded and he continued, but Harry started pacing. “You-Know-Who was winning. The Ministry was about to fall, and the only thing really standing in his way was Dumbledore. That’s what all the books say. Only the Order of the Phoenix was losing loads of people, they were dying – killed by Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. Then Dumbledore hears this prophecy, and he decides to check. Since they were in the Order, he already knew that both Harry’s mum and Neville’s mum were pregnant. A witch’s Magic can go all wonky when she’s pregnant because of all the changes, hormones, not to mention morning sickness, fevers, bloating, breasts get tender and such. My mum knows how to do the Due-Date Charm, and she tells Dumbledore exactly when both witches will go into labor. Now here is where things get odd, Dumbledore hid Harry’s parents in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Okay,” she replied, only meaning that she was following along with his logic, but Harry glared at her. “But the Potter’s lived in Godric’s Hollow.”

“No, no one knows exactly where Harry’s parent’s lived because they were in the Order, fighting Ol’ Snake-face and his followers, and probably moving around a lot, just like we do now. They were fighting a war – like we are. The house that Dumbledore set them up in, the one they used to hide after Lily got pregnant – that house belonged to Dumbledore; he grew up there. There was this book of Ol’ Bathilda Bagshot’s,” Ron said, rummaging in the rucksack again. “The house that Harry’s parents were hidden is at the edge of town near the end of the street. It’s secluded.” He pulled out a book, Great Wizards of the Age by Bathilda Bagshot, which had leaves and bits of parchment sticking out between the pages. “I marked a bunch of stuff,” he said as he handed it to her.

“My Aunt Muriel told me about Bathilda Bagshot when I,” Ron said, paused when Harry shot him an angry scowl. “Went to see her,” Ron finished, and his ears went pink, and he was unable to look at Harry for some reason. “Mrs. Bagshot was a neighbor of the Dumbledore family; she lived a few houses down the street. According to Rita’s book,” he said, indicating Rita’s book that now rested on Hermione’s knee, “she tried befriending Dumbledore’s mum, and they eventually became friends. Dumbledore himself was friends with her nephew. Rita Skeeter said in that book that the Dumbledore’s moved there after Percival—”

“That’s Dumbledore’s dad,” Harry stopped pacing as he interrupted him.

“—was imprisoned for killing some Muggles. Aunt Muriel said it was quite the scandal in her day, made the papers and all,” Ron finished. He looked up at Harry. “Godric’s Hollow isn’t a magical community; there are lots of Muggles that live there. She would’ve sought them out since they were a wizarding family. But in Great Wizards of the Age, Bagshot mentions Dumbledore living in Godric’s Hollow, even states where the house is – at the end of the street, surrounded by hedges.” He turned back to Hermione, and Harry started pacing again, clearly agitated.

“Here’s the thing, why hide someone in your childhood home if you’re trying to hide them from someone like You-Know-Who? It didn’t take much for me to find out that the house belonged to Dumbledore, in fact, my parents and Aunt Muriel already knew that. So did Luna and Jenny Wang, I asked them once when I was talking to Ginny. And Justin and Susan knew it; Justin read everything he could on Dumbledore to convince his parents to let him return to school after Christmas our third year. See, it’s not exactly a secret because Dumbledore was so famous – even back then. Now, the Longbottom’s, they were hidden in a remote house in an old mill town. Somewhere really hard to find. That’s not all; Remus told us that Dumbledore talked James out of using him as Secret Keeper – but they didn’t use Sirius, either. I asked Remus about it the summer after our third year because it struck me as odd. Remus said that Sirius would have died to protect Harry’s dad.”

“That’s what he told us in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry said, and Hermione turned around to look at Harry. “He told us that he’d have died to protect them.”

“Right,” Ron said, and Hermione turned back to him. “And Remus said that Harry’s parents would have chosen Sirius except he was the obvious choice, and, with Remus being a werewolf, Dumbledore thought that Peter Pettigrew was the better choice – not so obvious.”

“Okay,” Hermione said slowly.

“Don’t you see, Dumbledore knew Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper,” Ron stressed. “He set him up to be the Keeper. No one else besides the Potters and Sirius Black knew about the switch, and, according to Remus, Sirius was willing to let everyone believe that he was the Secret Keeper to protect Pettigrew and Harry’s parents.”

“So he knew, but he also thought what everyone else did – that Sirius Black killed Peter Pettigrew,” Hermione pointed out, and Harry nodded, curtly.

“But then why didn’t Dumbledore help Sirius when he knew that he was innocent?” Ron asked.

“Sirius Black wasn’t arrested for betraying my parents; he was arrested for killing Pettigrew! And all those Muggles,” Harry said, the hurt in his voice evident.

She ignored Harry’s rant. “He did! He asked Harry and me to save him, to help him escape,” Hermione stated. “To use my Time-Turner to save both Buckbeak and Sirius.”

“But he could have just as easily had Sirius stand trial and clear his name,” Ron pointed out. “But he didn’t. You, Harry and I saw Peter Pettigrew as did Remus. Even though we were kids, at fourteen, well Harry was thirteen, we could still testify to having seen him. Alive and old. We’d have to place our memories in a Pensieve for the Wizengamot members to view and take Veritaserum, but school age kids have testified before.”

Hermione considered his point. “It makes sense. Why didn’t Dumbledore clear Sirius’ name? Why keep him a fugitive? Even if they wouldn’t hear us, Severus saw him, too.”

Harry turned his head in her direction and his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll get back to Sirius,” Ron said. “Here’s the thing, why Peter Pettigrew? He was weak. He hid in my family home as a pet rat for years, for protection. Professor McGonagall told my mom that a rat Animagus fit him. He hero-worshipped Harry’s dad and Sirius, followed Harry’s dad like a puppy, not talented at all, stupid, sniveling and whining about everything when caught, and he was a coward.”

Hermione shivered, remembering how Pettigrew used to lust after her when they were in Severus’ house.

“And from what Hestia Jones said, Harry’s mum didn’t particularly trust him. So why pick him?”

Hermione cocked her head slightly. “Lily didn’t trust him?”

“That’s what Ron thinks,” Harry said. “Remus said that of the four of them, my mum wasn’t overly fond of Peter. Remus said Pettigrew was never invited over unless he or Sirius was around. But that makes sense; he was my dad’s friend.”

“He was a sneak and a coward. He was only made Secret Keeper because Dumbledore needed to have Harry marked as an equal – that’s why. He put Harry’s parents in his house and cast the Fidelius Charm with Pettigrew as Secret Keeper, knowing that of the three friends, Pettigrew was the weakest – that he’d turn sides to save his miserable hide. I think Dumbledore knew Pettigrew’s character, knew he would turn traitor, and counted on it, because that’s exactly what the Rat did. It gets worse.”

“Right. Sirius went after Pettigrew, and Pettigrew faked his death and killed all those Muggles to escape,” Hermione said. “We know this.”

“There is more. Dumbledore never visited Sirius in Azkaban, never got Sirius’ side of the story – in fact no one listened to him. Remus said that Sirius told him he’d known all along that the Rat had done it to frame him and fake his death, but he had no proof.”

“And that’s why he broke out of Azkaban,” Hermione stated, remembering the story as well. “To capture Peter to prove his innocence.”

“Right, only Dumbledore didn’t want the truth about Peter’s death to come out, not when it could mean losing control of Harry,” Ron stated, making Hermione glance at Harry in concern.

If that is true, then Harry was a pawn— “His weapon,” Hermione gasped as Ron continued.

“No! That’s not how it happened!” Harry snapped. “He wanted to strengthen the protection of my mum’s sacrifice to protect me!”

“He visited Snape, but not Sirius. Dumbledore went to Azkaban every week until Snape was released, but he didn’t visit Sirius once – not once,” Ron said adamantly. Harry huffed and started pacing again, but Ron ignored him. “You know that hour gap in The Fall of You-Know-Who? That book you gave Harry to read about himself? You were always concerned about that twenty-four hour gap from when Harry’s parents were killed to when Harry was given over to his aunt?”

“Yeah?” Hermione said, well, asked, not sure where Ron was going with this. “An entire day passed between the time of Harry’s parent’s deaths and the time Hagrid found him and delivered him to Dumbledore. I just assumed it was because the house was Secret Kept, and they couldn’t see the house to know. Hagrid didn’t know the Secret, therefore Dumbledore had to do something so that he could… What?”

“Wizarding law states that an adolescent, in this case a baby, if he or she is a surviving member of a deceased family, is to be given over to their closest living relative or predetermined guardian within twenty-four hours. Sirius Black was Harry’s godfather. Yes, Harry had a living blood relative, but she’s a Muggle, and the MLE prefers to have wizarding children raised by magical parents. I bet that there was an inquiry made regarding any living magical relative of Sirius’ who would accept Harry.”

“Narcissa and Bellatrix Black!” Hermione covered her mouth as she gasped, “Ohmygod!” Kreacher had turned to them! He’d gone to them and told them about Harry and Sirius’ relationship.

“No, not Bellatrix Lestrange, she was in Azkaban back then,” Ron said, shaking his head. “Harry’s parents were attacked on a Monday, at night. Sirius confronted Pettigrew Tuesday morning, and was arrested. My dad said that everyone knew that baby Harry had vanquished You-Know-Who – people were celebrating all over. When I asked him, he also told me that an inquiry was filed by the MLE that afternoon with the Wizengamot, so, yes, Narcissa Malfoy or Andromeda Tonks – the Black sisters, Sirius’ cousins and closest living relatives would have been notified. In light of Sirius Black being in jail, his closest magical relative, or in this case relatives, would have been offered the option of caring for the child – Harry. But Dumbledore had to assure that Harry was safe and under his control. He obviously wouldn’t have wanted Harry raised by the Malfoys. Andromeda Tonks would have accepted Harry gladly and had indicated that she would. Tonks told me that. But Dumbledore wanted Harry to live with his aunt – his Muggle aunt.”

“Because of the protection of my mother’s blood,” Harry repeated. He’d stopped pacing but his hands were in tight fists. “As long as I could call that house home, I was protected.”

“Possibly,” Ron stated, looking up at Harry. “Only I’m not so sure that’s really the case anymore. I think he told you that so you’d willingly go back to that hellhole. I mean, you already had your mother’s protection on you; why have you raised in a magic hating household? Why not allow you to spend time with Sirius? Or for that matter with the Tonks?” He looked up at Harry. “Not that I didn’t like having you over each summer, but still, you only needed to spend a few nights at your aunt’s. It’s not like it couldn’t have been managed, you spending weekends and holidays in a carefully concealed house under a new Fidelius Charm with Sirius or the Tonks when you were a little kid. The Dursleys’ would have allowed it, I’m sure.”

But before either of them could answer him, Ron looked at Hermione and said, “No, because Dumbledore didn’t want Harry influenced by Sirius or knowing anything about his past. He had my mum look after Harry once we became friends. Encouraged it. Sirius was reckless and immature. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the guy, but really can you see him as a father? He knew that Fred and George gave Harry the map, and he would’ve told us all the secrets of the castle. And he encouraged Harry to sneak about and break the rules, said the risk is what was fun and all.”

Harry was pacing again. “Which we did anyway, so I don’t see the point.”

“And the Tonks would’ve told him about his parents, shown him pictures, taught him magic and stuff,” Ron added, ignoring Harry.

“And Dumbledore wanted Harry pliable to his ideas,” Hermione said softly, barely a whisper.

Harry stopped pacing and asked, “What? You believe him?”

“I have to consider all the facts. Most of this is hearsay, but it does fit, like one possible scenario,” Hermione said, looking at Ron’s notes, itching to read them. She looked up at Ron. “But Harry did spend his holidays with Sirius the summer after our fourth year and Christmas…”

“Yes, but Harry and Sirius were never left alone,” Ron said with a slow nod. “I didn’t think about it at the time, but it’s why Remus was around so much, and Tonks, Order members, my parents… to keep Sirius from being alone with Harry and to keep him from being too influential on him – to encourage Harry to be like he was – a Marauder. I’m sure of it. It’s all here in the book, and with what we know, it all makes sense. Harry doesn’t like my theory; we fight about it all the time.”

Hermione rubbed her lower lip with her thumb as she thought about everything Ron had said. Harry is a lot like Sirius – hot-headed, impulsive, reckless, and independent – but he’d have been even more so if raised by Sirius, who had never matured the way that Remus had… “I don’t know, it’s plausible, but I… I just don’t know.”

Harry smirked at Ron and sat down.

Severus arrived at the Granger’s house and knew immediately that the place was deserted. Not just empty, the occupants were gone and had been for a long time. There was seven month’s worth of dust on every surface everywhere. It’s abandoned.

The house had been placed under Dumbledore’s Fidelius Charm but, since whoever the Secret Keeper was had written the address on the envelope, most likely so that Ginevra could correspond with Hermione, it hadn’t been hard to locate. Or for him to gain entrance, since he knew all the spells protecting the property.

He crossed his arms as he looked around. It was perplexing. McFaul, Westmore, and Nott had claimed to have come here in search of Hermione’s parents the week before their hand fasting, yet there was no evidence that the house had been breeched, let alone raided. McFaul and Nott weren’t the type of wizards to leave a place they raided undisturbed or house undamaged, and yet everything was neat and orderly. And there was the property next door, which was currently under renovation, a complete remodel, judging by all the construction apparently going on. Did the Order hide them?

He thought back, trying to remember any hint, any indication of her parents’ relocation. No, no mention of relocating the Grangers – at least up until I did away with Dumbledore. They could have been placed in a safe house last summer before Hermione – no, if that were the case they’d have been worried… wanted word. No, Tonks has never mentioned Hermione’s parents in any of her missives.

The thought that he was missing something obvious nagged at the back of Severus’ mind. Then it hit him. He walked over to look at the pictures on the mantelpiece, and then turned to look at the pictures on the table set up against the wall. There were many and all in nice frames. There are no pictures of Hermione – not at any age. He scanned the titles of the books on the bookshelf. All Muggle: Dental journals, novels, an encyclopedia set, thin plastic boxes with miniature motion picture posters under the clear plastic covers, and VHS ones that were obviously for exercising…

He walked though the house and up the stairs. There was a little girl’s room, but any sign of the occupant was carefully removed. It could’ve been any little girl’s room. There wasn’t a magical item or book anywhere. In fact, there weren’t any pictures or knickknack of any magical creatures either: fairies, mermaids, winged horses, castles, nothing. He crossed his arms and stared at the frilly daybed with the three dolls and several stuffed animals. He couldn’t imagine this being Hermione’s room at all.

He searched the rest of the house, careful not to disturb the dust. There was no evidence that Hermione had been in this house whatsoever, if ever, as if she’d never lived here or even knew these people. It was clearly evident that Hermione had literally erased her association to the house and the people who live here. To protect her parents – she’d have had the time. If she was this thorough erasing her existence, she won’t come back here.

Severus assumed that Hermione wouldn’t sleep out in the cold all alone all night either. At a loss, he decided to return to the island and talk to Cillian.

Severus felt the growing burn in his Mark just as he was about to Disapparate from her parent’s house.

Cillian crossed off the last name on his list. Although he’d felt it was a wild white hart hunt, he’d at least been thorough. He’d even tried going to the Burrow himself. Ginny and Hermione were thick as thieves, but he’d been surprised to see the state of the house. He’d known about the Lestranges’ raid, but the house was utterly destroyed.

He’d then returned to the last known address of the Waithes and Wangs, but their houses were both under the Fidelius Charm. Sighing, he gave up and decided to go check on Draco. Cillian arrived just outside the gates, ignoring the warning Klaxon in Hogsmeade caused by his Apparition. The two men placed as sentries opened the school gate for him, and he strode purposefully up the path to the great oak doors. The castle was eerily dark, with only a few windows showing any light. Even the windows in Hagrid’s hut were dark. But then the astrological event was over, and the snow covered grounds were glistening brightly in the moonlight. It was possible the Professor was in bed.

He thought of sending Draco a message through their Dark Marks, but decided to wait. He could always do so if he couldn’t find the boy. As Cillian opened the doors and entered the Entrance Hall, he saw Draco bounding down the steps toward him.

“Did you find her?” Draco shouted even before reaching the landing.

“No, not yet,” Cillian stated. “I thought you would be in your common room.”

“Are you serious?” Draco snapped, and Cillian thought he was far to wired up for merely watching the halls for Hermione.

“How are things here?” Cillian asked.

“Quiet,” Draco snapped. “Every portrait is on alert. There is this crazy knight, Sir Cadogan, who has been guarding the corridor outside of the Headmaster’s tower, and then there is this friend of the Fat Lady, Violet, who informs me every fifteen minutes that Hermione has not returned to the Gryffindor common room.”

“So, she’s not here,” Cillian stated, and Draco scowled at him. “Did you see Severus?”

“No, no one. My Mark keeps burning, off and on all night, but I’ve not been summoned,” Draco stated as he made a fist with his left hand.

“Mine, too,” Cillian stated. “I believe that our Lord is giving us time to find her.”

“While I’m stuck here,” Draco snapped dejectedly.

Cillian smiled weakly. “Better here than Apparating to a list of homes for naught.” He saw a ghost passing by on the first floor landing.

Draco turned to see what he was staring at. “They’re on the watch, too.”

“Any chance of getting into McGonagall’s office so I can check the school registry?” Cillian asked.

Draco shook his head. “Nope, thought of that myself. But if she’s moving around as much as you’ve been, the registry might not be accurate.”

Cillian was thinking about the others on his list. “Well, let’s get some coffee.”

Draco shot him an incredulous stare.

“Look, I’m tired and thirsty and could use the caffeine,” Cillian stated, turning for the stairs to the basement.

Draco shrugged and followed him. “So, no luck with her friend’s homes? Nobody’s seen her?”

“Nope,” Cillian stated dryly. “Most all of the houses are under the Fidelius. The ones I can see are empty. You’d think everyone was in hiding.”

“They probably are,” Draco deadpanned.

Suddenly their Dark Marks burned. “Augh, shite!” Draco swore, his left hand in a fist, and his right clenching and unclenching above his left wrist.

Cillian was clenching his left hand as he turned to face Draco. “You stay here. I’ll explain the necessity of your presence in the castle. See if you can find any way of breaking into McGonagall’s office.”

“It’s useless; the old crone warded it,” Draco said to him as Cillian turned to go.

“But I need you here in case – augh – she comes. Just stay here,” Cillian said through clenched teeth. “I’ll tell our master that you’re trying to break in to get me the current addresses. Her password will be something Scottish. At least you won’t face his wrath.”

“Yet,” Draco called out as Cillian ran off.

Hermione’s head was swimming. She quickly read over some of Ron’s notes and the pages Ron had marked in Rita’s book and in Mrs. Bagshot’s as she and Ron discussed his theory. The sad thing was it made a lot of sense, especially with all the facts the boys had uncovered.

Hermione then told the boys what had been going on in the castle, the Carrows’ abuse and how Neville and Seamus were leading the DA in rebellion. “It’s mostly minor stuff, writing slogans on the walls, flyers, releasing kids from Filch’s chains,” she admitted and was surprised when Ron looked questioningly at Harry. Harry shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Harry stated. “My scar is bothering me again.”

“I thought you could control that!” Hermione exclaimed.

“No, all right, I can’t,” he snapped back.

“That’s what Ginny has been saying to us, through the mirror,” Ron said, changing the subject back. “The DA has grown, and they are mostly causing trouble for Snape and the Death Eaters in the school. But they are also swaying people’s opinion and reminding the students of what life was like under Ol’ Snake-face the first time around. And those kids in Fich’s chains, they do it almost every night, Hermione. Most of the kids end up in the hospital wing.”

She didn’t know it was that bad. “Why hasn’t anyone told me?”

“Possibly because you’ve sided with Snape,” Harry snapped at her, and Hermione frowned at him. “Why haven’t you been helping them, huh? Can’t evade your bodyguard?”

“No, I can’t,” she admitted, her cheeks burning. She hadn’t even tried. She’d been trying so hard to obey Severus, too wrapped up in keeping her head down and trying to avoid conflict with the Carrows to notice. Not that she’d been successful at all; the Carrows hated her and resented her very existence. But Neville’s face – his bruises, and Seamus… Why hadn’t she realized? “No one’s said anything.” She would have to change that. She looked up at Ron. “Ginny told me that students were pulled from the train, have you heard anything from her about them?” she asked.

Ron shook his head. “Nope, only who is missing.” Michael Corner, Susan Bones and Farrah Chambers managed to escape the raid, and Michael told us what happened, but Charlene Weston, Wilberforce Wodehalle, Joaquin Schmidt Duane Saunders and others were taken someplace.”

“Can you use the Deluminator to find them?” she asked.

“Tried that, but the light won’t go anywhere,” Ron said, his shoulders sagging. “They have to say my name, and it’s really risky using the DA coins if they’ve been captured.”

Hermione covered her mouth to hide a yawn. “So, what exactly are all the others doing while you’re hunting Horcruxes?”

Ron crossed his arms around his knees. “Mostly helping the Order,” he said, and Harry crossed his arms. “We’ve been working with Tonks and Kingsley.”

“You can’t tell her, Ron. You know she chose Snape,” Harry said, and Hermione looked at him in shock. “She’s married to him, and from what I saw, she’s marked.”

Hermione gasped in surprise. “How did – did you – I didn’t accept it, it was forced on me!”

“So it’s true?” Ron asked, his mouth open and his eyes going round as saucers.

Hermione looked down and nodded her head, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m – was his prisoner,” she said softly, then looked up at Ron imploringly, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Yes, he branded me, but Draco saw it, and it’s not the same as his.”

“Draco?” Ron asked, still not believing.

“See, she even calls Malfoy Draco now,” Harry said sharply. “Chums are you now?”

“He’s not the same arrogant git as before, and I am getting through to him. With a little more push, he’ll crack and may change sides,” Hermione explained. “It’s like that all over the school. Slytherin is divided. I saw Mr. Malfoy and he looks awful! He’s being held prisoner in his own home, and he’s wandless. The Dark Lord – you should see him, he’s terrifying, sort of demented, and he’s manipulative – in a cruel, calculating way.”

“But you accepted his Mark,” Ron said. “How could you?”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s not the Dark Mark.” She pulled her jumper off and rolled her sleeve up. “Draco tried poking his wand into it and nothing happened.” Both guys leaned in to look at the brand on her flesh as she held her arm out for them to see. “See, it’s brown, not black, and the snake has a greenish cast to it. The Dark Mark is black, the snake undulates and the skull is as hard as bone. The Dark Mark feels alive, mine doesn’t.”

Ron reached out to touch it. “Ron, don’t! If you touch it, he’ll feel her and come,” Harry admonished him, but too late, Ron’s fingers were palpating the snake on Hermione’s arm.

“I’ve touched it, as did Mrs. Malfoy, Draco, and a few others, and nothing happened, nothing happened each time.” Ron looked up at her questioningly so she explained, “When I was in Grimmauld Place, before contacting you, I tried to wash it off. I’ve seen Draco’s and Severus’ – I’ve touched both of theirs. They don’t like their Dark Mark to be touched; Severus said it gives him a shooting sensation, a connected awareness the Dark Lord can feel. Mine doesn’t seem to do that. There’s no shooting sensation, I don’t fell any awareness or presence when I touch it, the snake doesn’t undulate, and the lion’s head is soft—”

“Then why did he do it?” Ron asked.

“To make an example of me – to show everyone I belong to him,” she stated sadly, tugging down her sleeve. Her forearm still hurt, but only a dull throb, which she felt more acutely when she closed her fist or lifted something, like the time she’d burned her arm on a hot cauldron. “I’m not really sure myself. I mean he had threatened to mark me before, but I assumed he wouldn’t because then he’d be a hypocrite – branding a Muggle-born with his Dark Mark. But he’s said that I belong to him, told me to call him my master. I was branded tonight, well, last night, at His Winter Solstice party. Everyone was there, even the supporters, and the drawing room where he marked me was crowded with people, so he had some reason to make such a demonstration – not that it helped.”

“Well you’re His now, then, aren’t you?”

Ron turned to look at Harry, but Harry was fuming. Harry stood up, his fists clenched. “You’re His. So you might as well go back to him.”

“Harry!?” Hermione implored, reaching out for him, but Harry turned and left the room.

Author’s Notes:

Yes, Harry equated Rita Skeeter with a Jarvey and called her a jobberknowl. Jarveys are a magical creature that says rude comments and tells lies. (see HPL under Jarvey) A "jobbernowl" is a British slang that means a stupid person according to the New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. (see HPL, under Jobberknowl)