A/N: Thank you to raven-maiden and saintdionysus!

Lucius Malfoy prowled through a thick wooded area, following a small sphere of light that did little in the way of illumination.

Hermione dropped into the memory next to a gnarled tree, Draco joining her a second after. She rushed to follow Lucius as he cut through an untraveled path, slicing branches and thickets away with his wand. Draco's footsteps were light but close behind her.

"Did you watch all of his memories?" Her heart beat quicker in her ribs as she turned to look at him.

They'd barely spoken since the moment in his bedroom five minutes ago, when he'd shaken her universe with a single word.

Hermione had shot question after question at him until he'd finally returned to his body, telling her she needed to come to the Pensieve with him. She'd flown out of the door and down the stairs before he could draw breath, tossing the simplest definition of a Horcrux over her shoulder at him once he caught up with her in the corridor. But he'd said nothing. He'd remained silent even when he took her hand and plunged them into the Pensieve to watch the first memory in the tray holding three black-tinted vials.

Draco's mouth was thin as he placed a hand on her back, guiding her forward. "No. Just some of the ones in the black vials." They passed through a low hanging branch like air, and Hermione froze on instinct. His hand lifted once she began walking again. "I know my father. He separated those ones for a reason."

Hermione nodded and refocused on where Lucius was headed.

They caught up to him a moment later, staring at the orb as it hovered between a pair of rotting tree trunks. Lucius's eyes closed, and a heartbeat later, the trunks parted to reveal a dilapidated shack. Lucius frowned at the residence, shimmering in a Notice-Me-Not Charm. The ball of light winked out as soon as he stepped through, and Hermione and Draco followed.

The exterior walls and roof were covered in moss, the ceiling caving in places. Trees seemed to have swallowed the shack as they grew unchecked around it.

Lucius swiftly moved down the overgrown path and toward the front door. After a quick sweep for curses, he pushed the wooden door open with a creak. He took a careful step inside, and Hermione followed him, stepping over the carcass of a long-dead garden snake. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when Draco bumped into her from behind. He murmured an apology and steered her to the right, and she blinked to take in the room.

Dust, grass, and dead rodents littered the floor. The sink was full of cobwebbed dishes that had been abandoned years ago. Hermione's stomach churned. She was grateful that she couldn't ascertain scent from a Pensieve memory — the look on Lucius's face told her everything she needed to know.

She turned to Draco, and saw that his eyes were glued to the solitary doorway opposite of the sink. Just then, a large, hulking figure emerged silently from the darkness. Hermione stumbled backward, and Draco's hand caught hers.

Lucius whipped around to turn his wand on the man, and Goyle Sr. appeared in the light of his Lumos.

He looked exactly like his son — they had the same heavy brow, clipped hair, and thick neck. But there was something different in his deep eyes. Something that curdled Hermione's blood.

"We've been looking for you, Gregory," Lucius said. He didn't lower his wand.

Goyle remained perfectly still, almost as if he'd been Petrified. The light from Lucius's Lumos cast strange shadows on his chin and cheeks.

"How did you find me?" His thin, slippery voice sent shivers across Hermione's skin. "I sent a letter to the Dark Lord requesting him."

"I'm well aware." Lucius's tone was cold as he reached into his breast pocket and produced a folded piece of parchment. "I had been looking for you for two weeks when you deigned to send him this letter requesting that he come and find you. Leaving behind coordinates and riddles like some kind of children's game." He let the words hang heavy in the air. "The Dark Lord doesn't have time for your theatrics, Goyle. And neither do I."

Goyle's lips curled into a smile, and the sight of it made the fine hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand on end. She squeezed Draco's hand, trying to tether herself to something outside of this nightmare. He returned the pressure.

Lucius's eyes narrowed at Goyle, and Hermione caught a flash of apprehension before it vanished in the pale slate. He knew something was wrong.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "So what is it that's kept you from answering the Dark Lord's summons, Gregory?"

Goyle's smile fell slowly, mechanically — as if turned by an imaginary wheel. "I attempted to. But I couldn't risk entering the castle. There would be questions — if I was seen." His gaze drifted to a point on the opposite wall. "He must come to me here."

Hermione's mouth was dry as she glanced over her shoulder, looking around the shack. Why here?

"Who are you to request such things?" Lucius hissed.

She turned back in time to see Goyle's expression harden. "I must speak to him. Immediately."

Lucius scoffed, and Goyle stepped forward. Hermione's grip on Draco's hand tightened, and he angled himself in front of her.

"Why?" Lucius slowly shifted his weight to his back foot. "Why should he take orders from you — an insubordinate servant?"

Goyle's face swiveled to the only window, a sliver of moonlight striking against his eyes.

"Tell him I have something he needs." There was a stilted pause. "Tell him I've been doing a bit of…" His neck cracked, and his eyes slithered back to Lucius. "Soul searching."

Hermione felt her entire body tremble. A voice murmured in her ear, but she couldn't focus on what it was saying. She couldn't tear her gaze from Goyle.

No, not Goyle.

She could count on one hand the number of times she'd encountered him during the war, but she was certain that this man was not Gregory Goyle, Sr.

Her heart pounded in a deafening rhythm as she finally blinked and looked back to Lucius. His face was calm, but his muscles were rigid. His fingers were turning white on his wand handle.

"I will do my best, Gregory," he said lowly. "But the Dark Lord is out of the country for several days on an important errand. When he comes back…"

The scenery began to shift. She focused on the pressure of Draco's hand in hers as the gloomy shadows disintegrated, and the world rearranged itself in a blur of colors and patterns.

The Manor's library materialized before her eyes, and she felt like she could breathe again.

Lucius — the same from a few moments ago — was rushing inside, locking the doors behind him with a flick of his wand. His jaw was tight as he stepped up to the catalog, staring down at it. He opened his mouth — and closed it.

Hermione chewed her lip, her palm sweating against Draco's. She'd never seen Lucius Malfoy at a loss for words.

He cleared his throat and tilted his head. "Magical possession. Cross-reference with Dark Magic." The catalog glowed with dozens of green balls of light. Lucius scanned them quickly before adding, "Cross-reference with soul splitting."

One by one, the green orbs burnt out until only a single ball of light was left. And as blood rushed through her ears, Hermione watched Lucius follow the green light through the stacks and up to the book she knew was waiting for him. The three of them watched it slide out of its place on the third shelf, tucked between two large leather books.

The only book in the Malfoy library that referenced Horcruxes. The one that had disappeared last June.

Lucius snatched the book and turned on his heel, only pausing to erase the memory of the catalog. As he left the library, Draco made to follow him, but Hermione dragged them to a halt. Her knees felt like they were about to give out.

"Sorry," she managed. "I just need a moment—"

"It's fine." Draco examined her as the library doors slammed behind his father. "He goes back to his study. All I saw was the word 'Horcrux' before the memory ended."

Hermione nodded, her head still spinning. Suddenly, the Pensieve began lifting them up and out, back to Lucius's study. Her legs returned to her in a jolt, and when her vision cleared, the clock on the wall clicked toward one in the morning.

Loosening her fingers from Draco's, she stumbled to brace herself on the desk. She could still see the crumbling walls of the shack and hear Goyle Sr.'s slick voice.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus. She'd been certain Voldemort wouldn't have tried to make another Horcrux — his soul was too unstable. But somehow…

A scuffle of footsteps interrupted her train of thought.

"So, it's true then," Draco whispered. "With this 'Horcrux,' the Dark Lord can possess a person?"

"Not exactly." She opened her eyes with a wince. "It's not meant for a person. It's better suited for an object. But when your soul is split, you can share bodies, in certain cases. He did with Quirrell."

Draco gaped at her. "Professor Quirrell?"

"Yes. Long story." Sighing, she rubbed her temples. "There's a piece of Voldemort in Goyle, which means he must have split his soul again at some point. But when?" She frowned up at him. "And how did it get into Goyle without Voldemort realizing it?"

Draco's eyes flickered. "We need to watch the next," he said quietly. "I didn't get through all of it. When you're ready."

"I'm ready." Forcing herself to stand, she strode to the Pensieve and peered down at the tray of black vials.

After a few moments, Draco shuffled next to her, collecting the silver threads swirling in the Pensive and pouring them back into the first black vial. As he reached for the second vial, dated 13 June 1998, he hesitated. "I— skipped over certain things."

Before she could ask, he was tipping the memories into the basin and taking her hand.

They landed at Hogwarts — or what used to be Hogwarts. Lucius pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped into the Great Hall. He paused at a movement to his left.

Nagini.

Lucius's lips pressed together as she uncoiled from a rotting table, slithering to meet him. Lucius began walking forward, Nagini hissing at his feet. Draco and Hermione followed.

Her eyes rose above Lucius's head, skimming the ceiling. The books in her mind that were filled with the happy memories of four colorful banners pulled forward on their shelves, and the echoes of laughter swelled in her ears—

The stark torches flickered on the wall, and the laughter distorted into a high cackle, garbling into her own agonized scream as Voldemort slashed through her memories.

Squeezing her eyelids shut, she reached out in her mind and used what was left of her energy to close the books that had fallen open, sliding them back on their shelves.

They halted in front of a massive serpentine skeleton, sprawling from wall to wall. Voldemort stood at the far window, looking out over the Black Lake and running his fingers over the Elder Wand. Lucius approached the throne of bones and waited. Nagini coiled around it, her muscles contracting and expanding as she reared her head.

"Goyle," Voldemort said softly. "What have you found?"

"More than I can explain, my Lord." Lucius clasped his hands behind his back and tucked his chin. "I... think it best that you visit him."

Voldemort turned from the window sharply. Hermione shifted her clammy grip on Draco's hand.

"And why can't he grace us with his presence here, at my castle?"

"He indicated it wasn't safe."

Voldemort's lip curled, and he moved towards them. The drag of his cloak against the stones sent goose pimples across her skin.

He stopped at the head of his throne, looking at Nagini almost affectionately before his scarlet eyes flashed to Lucius.

"I am not an errand boy, Lucius."

"Forgive me, my Lord. But there is something else."

The slits of Voldemort's nostrils flared. "Go on."

"He — was not himself." A delicate pause. "He said he had something that you need, and that he'd been 'soul searching.'"

Voldemort went very still. His gaze drifted to a spot over her shoulder, passing through her, and her shelves shivered, but held firm.

"What else?"

"He is waiting for you," said Lucius, his throat clicking around the consonants. "In a run-down shack on the outskirts of Little Hangleton."

Voldemort's eyes jerked to Lucius. "What did you say?"

"I believe the property used to belong to a family called the Gaunts—"

With a snarl and a vicious twist, Voldemort Apparated away. Hermione sucked in a breath, feeling her legs sway beneath her.

The Gaunts. The word rattled around her head, but slipped through her fingertips.

Lucius remained motionless, still facing the empty throne, as if waiting for further instructions. His fingers twitched by his side. Only the flickering sound of Nagini's tongue broke the silence.

After a full minute, he turned to walk out. He was as pale as a sheet.

As he left the Great Hall, the room shivered and morphed. When the world stopped spinning, Hermione was surprised to find herself in the Manor's entry hall. Draco's fingers tightened before they ripped away from hers.

She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but was distracted by the sight of Lucius wrenching the front door open. He peered down the stone drive, still wearing the same clothes from the previous memory — it was the same day. His face was even paler than before.

Glancing over her shoulder, she found Draco standing behind her. He was staring at the floor, as white as his father.

Hermione frowned. What memory was this?

"Draco—"

A crack spliced through the sky, and Hermione jumped. She looked out into the clear evening and found a cloaked figure gliding through the Manor gates.

Voldemort.

Realization hit her like a blow to the gut. She whipped around and saw Draco curling his fists, his shoulders curving inwards on himself.

Before she could think over the panic in her chest, Voldemort was slithering up the steps to the Manor and meeting Lucius in the doorway.

"My Lord." Lucius bowed. "Welcome to the Manor—"

Voldemort raised his hand, silencing him. "Fetch your Mudblood, Lucius."

Lucius inclined his head and led Voldemort into the drawing room. Hermione reached for Draco at the same time he reached for her. His hand was damp in her grip.

"We don't have to watch this." He swallowed, his grey eyes slightly clouded. "I didn't last time. I can skip it forward—"

She jerked a nod. He waved his wand and they found themselves in the drawing room. Hermione went rigid as she watched the other Draco drag her broken body off the floor, tugging her towards the door.

The real Draco interlaced their fingers, and the pressure steadied her.

Voldemort stood at the window, his gaze distant.

Lucius's eyes flickered from the door to Voldemort. "My Lord. I would like to be of assistance."

The drawing room door clicked closed, and Hermione felt like a tomb had sealed them in. Her vision blurred, knowing that at this moment, Narcissa was taking her upstairs, to her ruined bedroom.

Swallowing, she quieted her mind and refocused on the task at hand.

Voldemort had come to search her mind for information about Horcruxes. Whatever he'd learned from Goyle had driven him to seek her out.

Finally, Voldemort tilted his pale head at the window. Lucius cleared his throat, and his hands shook once as he clasped them behind his back.

"My Lord, I know there have been times in the past when I have failed you. But I hope my devotion to serving you and the Great Order has allowed me to regain your trust." He took a deep breath. "If I am correct... perhaps you once trusted me with something of this sort." Hermione watched his fingers clench. "With a diary."

Her lips parted and a chill raced down her spine.

Slowly and deliberately, Voldemort turned from the window. And even though she knew Lucius had survived this moment, her heart seized in terror for him.

"'Assistance?'" His face was unreadable, but the hiss shivered through the room. There was the slightest twitch to Lucius's shoulders.

"The Malfoys have properties all over the world. Some… off the books." He brushed his thumb across his knuckles. "I believe I can assist, my Lord. In keeping Goyle safe."

Voldemort stepped into him, boring into his eyes. She heard Draco let out a shaky exhale next to her. And then—

"I must speak with Goyle again." Voldemort swiveled and glided away, before pausing at the doorway. "You will accompany me, Lucius."

There was visible relief on Lucius's face before he masked it. He inclined his head, and his dragon leather shoes clipped a quick pace to follow Lord Voldemort out.

Hermione's lungs begged for air once the door closed, pain pricking behind her temples. Draco opened his mouth to say something to her, but then the room began swirling and his words vanished like air in a vacuum.

The world ground to a halt, Draco holding her around the waist. There was a ringing in her ears as she looked around him, taking in their surroundings. They were in the dense forest of trees again — Little Hangleton in the distance.

"Granger—"

She pushed away from him with a gasp.

They were at the Gaunt residence. Where Voldemort had hidden the ring, one of his first Horcruxes. Of course.

"Granger." Draco caught up to her, grabbing her hand. "We can take a break. We can watch the rest once you've slept—"

"No. We have to find out what happened."

"I haven't gotten this far. I don't know what happens next, and you're exhausted—"

"I'm— I'll be fine, Draco." She stumbled forward, and she pulled him through the thicket until they caught up to the cloaked figures approaching the shack in the twilight.

Her mind wobbled and whirled, like a spinning top on a rough table. Why had Voldemort wanted to search her mind for proof that Harry was a Horcrux? What else had he thought she'd known — and how did it relate to Goyle?

The door flew open, and Voldemort swept inside. With a slight roll to his shoulders, Lucius followed. Draco hesitated at the door, staring back at her. She nodded, and he turned and led her into the shack.

They filed in next to Lucius, his wand raised in a Lumos, and followed his and Voldemort's gaze across the room. Goyle had his back to them, facing the opposite wall, as if he hadn't moved since he was last left alone. When he turned, his eyes were trained on Voldemort. His lips stretched in a smile, like he'd found a puzzle piece he'd been missing for years.

"Find the answers you were looking for?"

"Some of them." Voldemort tilted his head, appraising him like one might a new pet. "How long have you been inhabiting this host?"

Goyle stepped into the glow of Lucius's wand. He tilted his head in the same manner, and Hermione felt her skin crawl. "It was several days after the Final Battle. I was disembodied, wandering the forest next to Hogwarts when Gregory Goyle stumbled upon me."

Voldemort's eyelids closed, and his nostrils flared. "Goyle remains alive?"

"For now." His leer sharpened, his features grotesque and inhuman. "One might say he's— sleeping. He offered little resistance when I overtook him."

Voldemort curled and uncurled his long fingers. "And before that? What do you remember?"

"It's unclear," Goyle said, his eyes glazed in memory. "I remember something like being sealed away — buried alive. It took years to become aware of myself again. The more I felt you, the more I pushed to claw my way out. But then, just weeks ago, I was abruptly cast out."

Red eyes flew open, narrowed into slits. "Where?"

Goyle's eyelids fluttered. "It was dawn in a forest. I saw a dead boy before I vanished amongst the trees."

The room was silent, apart from the pounding of Hermione's heart.

"And before then." Voldemort's voice was a whisper, almost a caress. "What is the last thing you remember before you were sealed away?"

"The death of the girl. And the baby's cry."

Hermione let out a strangled gasp. Draco jerked his head to look at her, but she was staring at Goyle in horror, her air coming quickly.

It couldn't be...

"Lucius," said Voldemort, hissing around the name. "You claim to know what Goyle is?"

He turned his gaze on Lucius, and Hermione watched him take a deep breath.

"I believe the word is… 'Horcrux,' my Lord."

Voldemort prowled a wide circle around the room. "And how did you come to know this word?"

"I found a book in my library…" He cast his eyes down. "I should not have looked into it without your permission, my Lord. Forgive me."

"Destroy that book."

Lucius nodded, his eyes still downcast.

"You're wrong, Lucius," said Voldemort, a twisted melody in his tone.

Lucius's eye twitched, but he gave away nothing.

"You see, our friend here — Goyle"—Voldemort's voice was dripping in amusement—"is not a Horcrux at all."

Lucius glanced up. "My Lord?"

"No." Voldemort halted a step away from Goyle, looking him up and down. "But he came from one."

Goyle swiveled his neck to meet him, like a hinged puppet.

Voldemort spun away and resumed his pacing. "You are aware that I have created several Horcruxes. But it seems that one was… unintentional."

He swept within a breath of them, and it took everything in Hermione not to shrink away. Her legs felt like jelly as her mind clicked, details locking into place.

Draco tugged her closer, shifting a shoulder behind her.

"Years ago, this unintended Horcrux attached itself to my enemy, marking him as my equal." His lips twisted, as if he now found the prophecy amusing. "My soul grew stronger in his body as my powers grew. And I presume he learned the truth. When he surrendered himself in the Forbidden Forest, he must have believed the Horcrux would be destroyed when I killed him. Instead, it was released." Voldemort turned his gaze on Goyle. "Until it found a new host."

Hermione's lips parted, black spots popping in her vision. Like she'd been plunged into dark, icy waters, forced to sink slowly to the bottom as the surface remained still.

The Horcrux inside of Harry.

Voldemort hadn't created another one by accident. It was the same one that had been inside of Harry.

Harry had learned about it somehow. And he'd thought he could kill it by sacrificing himself.

But it hadn't worked.

Her breath was caught in her chest, like a dead weight growing inside her.

Harry had died for nothing.

Voldemort was still talking, but she couldn't hear him anymore.

Something warm wrapped around her shoulders as they shook, and she jerked her arms, twisting to escape. She spun and Draco was there, trying to hold her, speaking to her.

Her lungs seized for air, but she couldn't draw breath. Her heartbeat rattled a crescendo in her chest. She tried to focus on Draco's grey eyes, but all she could see was emerald green.

The walls of the shack started to shift, closing in on her, getting tighter and tighter until they pressed on her like the sides of a coffin—

And then it was all darkness.

Her eyelids blinked open with the whisper of "Rennervate" in her ears. She jerked upright, and someone caught her by the shoulders. Her vision adjusted as her lungs sucked in air, and when she looked up, she found Draco hovering above her, his green canopy curtains stretching high overhead. She was in his bed.

"Granger," he said, and she realized he'd been calling her name.

Her throat was dry, and she licked her lips. "What happened?"

His expression was pinched. "I had to Stun you." He lifted a hand to brush her curls from her face. "You were having a panic attack."

She drew a sharp breath, pressing her eyes closed. Her shoulders trembled beneath his fingertips as the memories crested, flooding through her.

A stab of despair rippled through her chest.

Harry.

He'd found out somehow. He'd learned the truth about the Horcrux inside of him. Something in Snape's memories must have confirmed it.

Her eyelids burned as tears slipped free, curving down her face. A warm hand wiped them away.

Her best friend was dead, and she hadn't let herself think about how or why. She'd buried him amongst her shelves without having all the answers. But now his book had flown open, the sheets torn and the spine splintering as the pages scattered.

She bit back a sob as the grief sunk in her throat, coiling like black tar around her ribs.

He'd walked to the Forest with purpose. He'd laid down his wand, closed his eyes. She hadn't been with him. He'd been alone.

Harry had died doing what he thought was right, but he'd failed. The Horcrux lived on. And he'd died in its place.

A sob tore from her throat, and she shrank away from the hands clutching her. She focused on her shelves, pressing her hands into her eyes until the tears stopped falling.

There was an inhale next to her — and then the rattle of porcelain. She opened her eyes to see Draco bringing a cup and saucer to her. Her head was stuffy, but she recognized the faint smell of chamomile. She concentrated on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

"What happened?" Draco asked softly. The bed dipped as he sat beside her. "What am I missing?"

She sipped the tea, but it tasted like ash on her tongue. Handing back the saucer to him, she wiped her cheeks again and tried to push her emotions back.

"Harry had a Horcrux inside of him. A Horcrux Voldemort never intended to make. I'd guessed this some time ago, but I never told him. Or anyone else." Her eyes fell to her lap. "That's why he walked into the Forest. He was sacrificing himself to kill it."

The mattress shifted, and she heard Draco's throat click.

"He believed it would kill the Horcrux, but it didn't. It freed it."

The room blurred as she lifted her eyes to his. She blinked, and found him watching her carefully, his fingers inches from hers.

"Harry died for nothing," she whispered. "It accomplished nothing."

All the people that had died, all the friends that had been put up to Auction. And Harry's death had been pointless.

She started crying again, her lungs fighting against her ribs. Draco flicked his wand and brought a Sleeping Draught to her lips. She twisted away.

"It's four in the morning, Granger—"

"There's another vial of memories—"

"They will still be there in the morning."

She fell back into the pillow, allowing her body to sink back into the mattress as he tipped it down her throat. Her eyes started to close, and Draco turned off the light and slid onto the bed behind her, curling his shoulders around her and pressing his face into her hair. She listened to him breathe until sleep dragged her under.

She woke with Draco still wrapped around her, his warmth comforting her for all of five seconds before her blood ran cold. Her body flinched with the memories of the previous night, jolting him awake.

"Sorry." Her voice cracked as she turned to him.

He rubbed his eyes and looked her over, reaching to tuck a curl behind her ear. "How are you?"

She rolled to her other side and checked the clock on the mantle. Ten in the morning.

"I'm better," she lied. Her lips trembled, and she pressed them closed. "I need to watch the rest of the memories." She sat up and threw the covers off.

"Granger, it's important for you—"

She spun to him. "Nothing is more important than this."

A strange look crossed his face. She swallowed, forcing her shoulders to relax.

"Sorry, it's just…" Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find the words. "This matters more than anything, Draco. It's bigger than all of us."

His expression went blank again, and he reached for his wand on his nightstand. He waved it in her direction, and her pajama bottoms were transfigured back into denims.

She glanced down at them. "Thank you," she whispered.

He was silent for a moment, watching her slip back into her shoes. "So this is what you three were up to during seventh year. Looking for Horcruxes."

She nodded. "Dumbledore told Harry everything he knew about them. Voldemort made six Horcruxes. He split his soul using dark magic, and sealed it inside six things that held significance for him."

Draco tossed off the covers and stared at the opposite wall. "They keep him alive, don't they?"

"Yes. As long as a piece of his soul exists, he can't be destroyed. Not even with the Killing Curse." Taking a deep breath, she dug her fingernails into her palms. "The night he tried to kill Harry as a baby, his soul fractured again. And somehow it lodged itself inside the only living person in the room."

"Potter." Draco twisted to face her, his jaw tight. "And now Goyle."

"Goyle's only a temporary host," said Hermione, rubbing her brow. "But I'm certain Voldemort has made a new Horcrux to seal it in." She pressed her shaking fingers to her lips. "Did he say anything about what he was going to do with it? In any other of the memories you watched?"

"I only saw what you did." Draco stood up and went to his closet, pulling a jumper over his head. "I didn't get any further last night before I came to find you. I went to the library and through my father's study to see if he'd hidden the book somewhere."

"We should start at the end of the memory you had to pull me out of. He might have said something—"

Draco shook his head as he tugged on his belt. "It was ending as I pulled you out. All he did was tell my father to wait for further instructions."

Hermione swallowed her disappointment. "Well, hopefully we'll find the answer in one of the other ones." She shoved aside the pounding in her head. They had to get back to the Pensieve.

"So…" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aside from Voldemort himself, there are seven other pieces of his soul keeping him alive? Including the one in Goyle?"

"No. There's only two left." When Draco's brows drew together in confusion, she said, "The other five have been destroyed."

He blinked at her. "Destroyed." His voice was soft and far away.

"Yes." She crossed the room to his door. "It's just his snake and the piece that attached itself to Goyle. Once those two are gone, he'll be mortal again."

She opened the door, but a hand on her elbow stopped her. Frowning, she turned around. Draco's face was impassive as he pointed to the breakfast trays waiting for them on his desk.

"You should eat something."

"Draco, there's no time."

"Granger—"

"We can eat later." She stepped through the door and moved swiftly down the corridor. Pausing at the staircase to wait for him, she turned back to see him emerging from his bedroom with two pieces of toast in his hand. He offered her one with a lifted brow. Huffing, she shoved it into her mouth as they took the stairs down.

She hesitated once they reached Lucius's study, but then she remembered it was no longer barred to her. Draco moved past her and she quickly followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. The Pensieve was left exactly where it had been six hours ago.

He scooped the last memory from the basin back into the vial dated June 13th, and Hermione tipped the final black-tinted vial into the Pensieve — dated nearly three months after the first two. Their eyes met as she grabbed his hand, and together they tumbled into the next memory.

They dropped into the Gaunt house as Lucius stepped inside. Lucius closed the door behind him, his eyes fixed to the left of her feet, and Hermione yelped when she found the corpse of Goyle Sr. on the floor next to her. Draco steadied her when she stumbled, gaping down at the body.

His skin was blanched, his purple lips hanging open in what might have been a scream. And with a sickening lurch to her gut, Hermione saw that Goyle Sr.'s eyes had been blue — not the deep brown from the previous memories.

"Lucius," said Voldemort. He turned from his place by the window.

Lucius's eyes flickered up to Voldemort. "You were successful, then, my Lord?"

"Yes," he said, the hiss bouncing around the walls. "I have extracted the precious piece of my soul, and sealed it in a proper vessel. And now we must see that it is secured." He slithered to Lucius and slowly extended his hand. His long fingernails sent Hermione's stomach roiling again. "Which is why you are here, my slippery friend."

A crease appeared between Lucius's brow, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. He reached into his robes and produced a handkerchief that hovered in the air, unfolding to reveal a golden rope. Voldemort's eyes locked on Lucius's as they both reached for a side, and with a tug, Hermione and Draco were swirling alongside them.

They landed on rocky ground in the middle of the night. A looming mountainside rose up behind them. The moon was absent in the sky, and the stars were hidden behind clouds.

The hair on Hermione's arms prickled.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"I don't know." Draco's eyes darted around the landscape. "I've never been here before."

Lucius straightened his robes and lit the path with his wand. His boots crunched through the gravel as Voldemort followed, his cloak trailing silently behind him.

"I trust I have your full confidence in this location," said Voldemort. His voice was low, but the layer of threat was unmistakable.

"Yes, my Lord. I have spent these several months not only building allies in the Romanian government, but ensuring that no one knows of this property's existence. I have investigated the records personally. And I have strengthened the wards and protections surrounding it." His grey eyes glittered as he turned over his shoulder to look at Voldemort. "This property won't be found. I assure you."

Romania. Hermione looked around at the dark mountain range, trying to identify anything that could pinpoint exactly where they were.

"I hope you are right, Lucius. For your family's sake."

Dread washed over her like a slow-breaking wave. She chanced a glance at Draco. His eyes were wide, but his mouth was hard. Lucius dipped his chin and continued walking.

They started uphill, taking a cragged dirt path. Lucius took an abrupt right turn around a large stone, and led them away from the passage.

"I am honored that the Malfoy family can once again be useful to you, my Lord." Lucius slowed his pace to step in time with Voldemort. "I will not fail you again."

Voldemort hummed. "I have been pleased with your performance, as of late. But should you become complacent in the future..."

"Of course, my Lord," said Lucius quickly. It was silent under the starlight for a long moment before Lucius spoke again. "If I may speak freely…?"

"Go on."

"I see a bright future for Draco. He is well-respected by his peers and superiors, and he has a way with words. I would hope he can serve you to that effect as he matures. Perhaps one day, even as Minister."

Hermione turned over her shoulder to where Draco was steps behind her. His eyes were glued to his father and Voldemort.

She thought of Lucius's memory from Switzerland — pushing him toward accompanying the German Minister instead of torturing the prisoners with Bellatrix.

Voldemort slithered onward through the dark path between hills and said, "We'll see."

Lucius nodded, and Hermione's stomach bubbled with guilt as she wondered if she might agree with him. Even if both options made her nauseous, it was better to imagine him in an office than a battlefield.

The path narrowed, and Lucius stopped in front of a smooth rock face. "Here, my Lord."

Hermione squinted, trying to memorize it, but in the darkness, everything was interchangeable. Draco stepped next to her, his eyes still on his father.

Lucius tapped his wand to the center of the wall, and it shivered, breaking apart with a rumble until a door appeared in the stone. He turned to Voldemort.

"Only a Malfoy can pass through." He pressed his wand to the center of his palm and sliced across the flesh. Dark blood dribbled down his wrist as he offered his hand to Voldemort.

Voldemort lips twisted in the semblance of a smile as he lifted the Elder Wand and cut a thin slice into his index finger. He summoned Lucius's blood from his palm, the red droplets arcing up and landing on his pale skin, mixing into his blood. He sewed the cut closed, and Lucius did the same.

Lucius moved to the entrance, but he froze when Voldemort placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You will wait here," he whispered, and Hermione saw Lucius try not to flinch as his bony fingers pressed harder. "I alone will hide the object and cast my wards."

Lucius jerked a nod, and he stepped back to allow Voldemort to enter. With a wave of his wand, Voldemort slid open the stone wall, like a boulder moving to the side. He slithered inside, disappearing in the darkness, and Lucius drew a ragged breath.

The mountains of Romania warped, the memory ending. The Pensieve pushed them up and out.

When her feet were firmly planted on the study floor, Hermione braced herself on her knees, sucking in air.

Lucius Malfoy had carefully saved the location of Voldemort's Horcrux.

Her ears were ringing when she finally looked up at Draco. His mouth was open, his eyes staring vacantly at the titles on his father's shelves. She blinked down into the Pensieve, seeing the mountains rise up to the surface of the swirling memories.

She was now one of four people in the world who knew the location of Voldemort's final Horcrux. And now she had to decide what to do with it.

She collapsed into Lucius's leather chair and closed her eyes, trying to think. When she finally opened them, her gaze lifted to Draco. His fingers were toying with a thread on his sleeve, his eyes still far away.

There was so much she'd already asked of him. Charlotte, returning her memories, disobeying his father. Even if he agreed to get another message to the Order about the Horcrux in Romania, she didn't know how they'd destroy it. They might not even be able to get past the wards.

Hermione looked down at the mahogany desk, breathing deeply as resolve washed over her. It needed to be her. Getting this to the Order and hoping they would be successful from afar was a risk she couldn't take. Horcruxes were hers. Hers, Harry's, and Ron's. Dumbledore had entrusted it to them.

Ginny and Charlotte didn't know what she did. With this new Horcrux in Romania… there was only her. And Draco.

Her eyes traveled up to him. Just days ago, she'd promised him she would stay until they could all get out. But there hadn't been a Horcrux then. Her logic was screaming at her to down the tattoo antidote, take his wand, march out the Manor gates, and head straight for the mountains in Romania. To roll back the stone and kill the Horcrux, just like he'd killed Harry. But her heart was begging her not to disappear. All three Malfoys would be tortured and killed. Her breath choked her, and she forced her thoughts aside.

Narrowing her gaze at the desk, she wondered why Lucius Malfoy would hold onto these memories. The only reason she could think of was that he needed them… for insurance. Just like her. If the True Order captured him or his family, what better insurance was there than the location of Voldemort's final Horcrux.

Draco abruptly turned on his heel, striding to the Pensieve. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he began collecting the threads and dropping them back in the vial. Putting things away, like they hadn't been touched — hadn't cracked her world open.

Her heart beat faster as she watched him. She needed to convince him. If he could find a way to get his mother and himself to safety, she could go to Romania and destroy the Horcrux. She wouldn't go without ensuring their safety, but she needed to go.

He set the black-tinted vials back on their shelf and closed the cabinet doors.

She ran through the conversation in her mind, curling her sweaty palms into fists.

Draco, I have to do this. Don't try to stop me, please.

The lock on the cabinet clicked into place, and she watched as Draco ran his fingers down the dark wood.

We need a plan to get you and your mother to safety. He won't be happy, but we can leave a note for your father. But he knew the defeat of the Dark Lord was a possibility. That's why these memories were kept. It has to be.

Draco turned back to her, looking at her with a tight jaw. His eyes flickered over her, concern in his gaze. She felt tears blur her eyes.

I know I said I was going to stay, but this is more important than all of us. This is why Harry died, and I can't let that stand. I have to go. I have to do this, please don't stop me—

"How do we destroy it?"

She blinked, her sight clearing as he looked up at her — grey eyes inquisitive, open. Trusting.

"What?" Her voice cracked on the word.

"It can be destroyed, like the other ones, yes? We can destroy it?"

Her heart beat quicker.

We.

She took a sharp inhale, like cresting the water's surface after drowning. "There are a few options, but…" Her eyes flickered over him, searching him. "You would… you would help?"

He tilted his head, frowning. "It's what you want, isn't it? To go?"

She felt her heart lodged in her throat. "I guess I didn't think that you would go with me — that you would go against Voldemort."

He stepped closer and bent to his knee in front of the chair. His hand raised to her cheek as a tear fell down from her lashes. "I didn't know there was another choice. I didn't know he could be killed. It didn't even cross my mind."

She sniffed. "And that changes things?"

His grey eyes looked up into hers. "There has to be something better than this." His jaw clenched and he shook his head. "When I heard that he'd won and that Potter had died…" He swallowed and took her hand. "I thought it was an immovable fact. And now you're saying it doesn't have to be this way."

Another tear splashed down onto his fingertips. She bit her lip, her blood pounding in her veins. "Draco, if you do this, there's no way the Order won't pardon you."

He searched her eyes. "That's not why I'll do it." He pushed a curl behind her ear, and as she stared back at him, he leaned up to press a kiss to each of her eyelids, temples, and cheeks.

When he reached her lips, she slipped off the chair and into his arms, winding her fingers in his hair. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped himself around her, kissing her softly. Her lips tried to follow him when he broke away.

Holding her close to him, Draco looked into her eyes and said, "How do we kill him?"

.

.

A/N: Updates every other Sunday evening EST. (Next chapter DELAYED: Will post midweek the week of Aug 9)