So this post is a few days late. You know, because I am on such a consistent and dependable schedule *cough* with my posts. At any rate, I needed to rework a portion of it, so this time it was not entirely out of laziness.

Before I move on, however, I wanted to address Ijahman Nyahbinghi Rizzla, if I may. You had asked a few questions and I tried to answer but it appears that PM responses are blocked for your profile. So, I'll cover them here.

Answer #1 - I don't want to say much, but I will say I cannot imagine Hermione would have gotten rid of that shirt.

Answer #2 - I would say Killian has not exactly sorted himself out just yet. Not entirely anyways. But he currently lives beyond the Veil.

Answer #3 - I normally would not go into spoilers here, but I want to make it known that Ron is definitely not having an affair. I didn't want to go that route in making him out to be a bad person. He really isn't. Ron and Hermione's relationship and interactions with each other are more about two people who simple are not compatible, but realized it too late and are now at a point where they do not know how to move forward.

Answer #4 - Can't go into too much about this one. But in short, I agree. Not just about the children, but overall. The death of Killian's family drastically changed who he could have been and would have been. Little bit of a life lesson there. Every experience in your life leads down the path towards who you will become. Wow, I suddenly feel all philosophical.

Alas, I digress. Back to your regularly scheduled program ... Enjoy!

- Chapter Twenty-four -

Crimson Midnight

It was a beautiful painting. A tranquil scene of nature near sunset. Beyond the trees, where the path disappeared beyond a bend in the background, the sun was setting, creating a vibrant blend of red and amber against the approaching night.

Hermione looked at the bronze plate tacked to the frame. "Crimson Midnight," she read aloud.

"I'm telling you," Harry assured. "This is it. The lilies … It's not a coincidence."

Hermione could not have agreed more. It was no coincidence. Snape's love for Harry's mother was well known … Lily. Her death led to Snape's renouncement of Lord Voldemort and his decision to turn spy for Dumbledore. Harry was right. The lilies in the painting were a sign, an eternal memory in honor of the death Professor Snape carried upon his soul until his very last breath.

"What is it?" Draco asked as he felt along the frame. "A door?" He pulled the frame slightly away from the wall. "There's nothing behind it."

Killian raised his staff to the painting.

"Ostendo," he whispered.

Nothing.

Everyone looked to George.

"Sorry," he apologized humbly. "I can find your charmed items, but he could have used anything to seal them. It would be impossible to decipher it without a little help."

Hermione examined the painting, eyeing the details stained upon the canvas. Her eyes then fell upon the cluster of flora that had first drawn Harry to the painting. She reached into her pocket and grasped the dried flower she and Killian had retrieved from the Potions closet. Carefully removing the flower, she held it up and compared it to the painting, finding a single lily to be an exact match.

Could it really be that simple? she thought.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked as Hermione bent down and held the flower before its twin.

"I'm not sure," she answered.

The flower in her hand pulled from her grasp and hovered by its oil and canvas companion. Slowly, it melded with the painting and vanished within the brushstrokes. As it did, the painting rippled like a millpond disrupted by a skipping stone. When the canvas settled once more, Killian reached out to touch it, only to find his hand fall clear through.

"The Eye lay at the end of the turn," Killian said to himself as he traced his finger up the path and around the bend through the woods.

"Riddles within riddles," Draco said.

"Looks like you were wrong then, eh Draco," Altimus said with a laugh. "It's here after all."

"First," Draco pointed out, "Jacques would have been wrong, not me. Second," he went on, "Jacques was right. The Eye isn't located on either side of the Veil. It's through there,' he concluded with a gesture towards Crimson Midnight. "And I don't think that counts."

"So, we'll find the Eye in there?" Harry asked.

"I would assume it to be beyond the path," Killian answered.

"Seems simple enough," Draco said. "Any volunteers?"

Killian began to step through the painting when Hermione grabbed him by the arm.

"You are not going in there," she protested.

"Am I not?" Killian asked.

"No," Hermione protested further before relinquishing both her grip and tone. "Not alone. You don't know what's through there." She paused and collected herself. "We're going with you."

"We?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Hermione asserted. "We're with the Ministry. It's our duty."

"I don't recall 'stepping through charmed paintings that lead to who knows where' being bulleted anywhere in the job description," Draco went on.

"It would have been covered under miscellaneous," Harry teased.

"Yeah?" Draco continued. "And what happens if we step on through and we can't come back?"

"He actually makes a good point," Harry agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Best we don't all go."

Killian looked the other members of the Triad. "Would you mind sitting this one out?" he asked.

"We got your back, brother," Altimus assured while Wraith offered a simple nod.

"I think I might hang on back as well if you don't mind," George offered. "My appreciation of art is more from afar than any form of interactive behavior, if you get my meaning."

So it was set. Wraith and Altimus stood by the door while George perused Snape's library of books and collections. Killian slowly stepped though and disappeared within the painting. Harry looked to Hermione, then to Altimus.

"If we don't come back," he said with a coy grin, "avenge our deaths, yeah?"

"Of course," Altimus said with a laugh.

"Yeah, that's funny," Draco scoffed as he followed Harry through the painting.

With a deep breath, Hermione did the same.

Once through, the scene of oil on canvas lost its blurs of brushstrokes and emerged as clear and serene as reality itself. Hermione turned back toward the gateway they had just crossed and saw it as a painting of the room in Snape's home, hovering weightlessly in the air.

"Amazing," she said to herself.

"Snape was brilliant," Harry said, overhearing Hermione's utterance. "No one could ever deny that?"

Hermione thought the comment amusing, as it was not so terribly long ago that Harry would have been first and foremost on the list of individuals who would have denied Snape's brilliance. Not for any sense of truth in that belief, of course. More so out of spite. Viewpoints had certainly evolved over the years.

Together, the group ventured down the path, over the bridge, and through the trees beyond. There, they were met with a towering wall of granite, hundreds of feet in height with a narrow opening that made way for the path to carry on. In the distance beyond, there was a hill. At its top, stood an oddly placed wooded door affixed to no walls.

Obstructing their way, within the narrow pass, was a grid of marble tiles reminiscent of a chessboard. However, these tiles were imprinted with random images of various animals, settings, flowers, and symbols.

"Have we enjoyed our little walk?" came a chillingly familiar voice.

Professor Snape appeared from behind a fallen tree aside the path. Not the Snape they had all known from their years at Hogwarts. This was a younger Snape, much like in the memory Dumbledore kept in his hidden room behind the bookshelf, yet somehow different.

"P-Professor?" Draco muttered in disbelief.

Snape approached, looking down his nose at Draco. "Pale skin, blonde hair … I imagine you must be a Malfoy. I can see Lucius' air of self-importance in the arrogance of your eyes."

"Yes," Draco answered, looking far less than arrogant at the moment. "Draco Malfoy. Lucius is my father."

"And you," Snape went on, glaring at Harry whist parting the hair from his forehead to reveal his now faded scar. "There can be no doubt. James and Lily's infamous offspring … Harry Potter. And accompanied by a Malfoy …" his voice tapered off as he moved on to Killian and Hermione.

"Of you, however," he drawled as he glanced between the two of them, "I'm afraid I am not familiar."

Killian's jaw tensed. It was subtle, but noticeable.

"My lack of recognition pains you," Snape went on, narrowing his eyes at Killian. "What is your name?"

"Finn," Killian answered. "Killian Finn."

"Ah, yes," Snape drawled. "I do seem to recall a Finn family. Foreign, yes?"

"Beyond the Veil," Killian said, much to Snape's surprise.

"Am I to assume we are all privy, then?" he asked.

"It's old news," Draco answered.

"I see," Snape pondered aloud as he readdressed Killian. "Former pupil?" he asked.

"In a manner of sorts," Killian conceded.

"Indeed," Snape said, again narrowing his eyes before moving his attention on to Hermione. "Which still leaves you."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said before Snape could pose the question himself.

"Neither name nor face hold meaning to me," Snape dismissed.

"She's a Mud—" Draco began, but caught himself. "A Muggle."

Snape folded his hands behind his back and paced before the group. "Such a motley crew stands before me. A Pure-Blood, a Mud-Blood, The Boy Who Lived, and a former student."

"Technically, we're all former students of yours," Harry corrected.

"So it appears," Snape agreed, eyeing each of them. "And where, might I inquire, am I? Or am I to assume I merely sent you in my stead."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group.

"You were unable to accompany us," Harry finally answered. "We learned of this place from the clues you left."

"Clues?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes further. "Why is it I did not simply divulge the information?"

"We received the clues from your portrait," Killian answered.

Snape paused, then turned away and looked to the ground. "My portrait," he said solemnly. "I see." He walked a few steps away, placing his hand on his head, before turning back to the group. "Pity," he went on, waving off what nearly amounted to emotion. "Had I been here, I would have been able to show you the way."

Hermione stepped forward. "What do you mean?"

Snape grinned condescendingly. "You do not believe you can simply walk up that hill, do you?"

"The grid is a trap," Killian deduced.

"Your deductive skills border on brilliance," Snape commended with blatant sarcasm.

"Professor," Harry pled, "if you know a way, you must tell us."

Snape laughed as he, again, paced back and forth before them. "That would be impossible. I am merely an invention, created for a purpose."

"And what purpose is that?" Harry pressed.

"Not to guide you," Snape snipped, turning his nose in the air. "Of that you can be certain."

"Lord Gaius Mideus has returned," Draco spoke up. "He has sent his disciples in search of the Eye. They are already in possession of the Spiorad Druma."

The news appeared to strike a chord in the younger version of the former Potions master. He turned away again, rubbing his chin, his eyes dancing around with no noticeable focus.

"That is undoubtedly troubling," Snape conceded. "It would seem likely they would eventually trace the Eye back to me, thus leading them here."

"Exactly," Hermione spoke up. "That is why we need to gain control of the Eye."

"Because your intentions are noble?" Snape asked rhetorically.

"Of course," Hermione answered just the same.

"How often the noble are broken," he mused aloud. "Only to themselves become the monsters they seek to thwart." He walked back to the fallen tree and sat. "However noble your quest may be, I am still unable to help any further. If, as you say, I have already given you the clues, you should have little trouble finding the way on your own. But mind your step."

Having realized there was nothing further to gain, Hermione approached the grid that lay before them and examined the marble tiles, struggling to find meaning.

"Clearly there is a path across," Killian said.

"He said to mind our step," Draco offered as he, too, studying the tiles.

"What if we don't step on it at all?" Harry suggested.

"Well, we can't scale the wall," Hermione reasoned. "And it's too far to jump."

Draco flicked his wand and Harry soon hovered several feet off the ground.

"Very clever," Harry complained.

"I thought so," Draco said with a smug grin.

Harry appeared unamused as hung in the air and slowly drifted over the marble tiles at the direction of Draco's wand. It seemed at first glance that the plan was going along smoothly until Harry reached the halfway mark. Several bolts of energy streamed from the granite walls, blasting Harry from the air before he collided with the ground, his body covering several tiles at once. As he staggered painfully to his feet, the earth began to rumble with violent fury.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked of Snape.

"You have failed," Snape answered simply from his vantage on the fallen log.

As Snape watched on, a horde of stone warriors emerged from the walls as if leaping from water. Their bodies, like their source, were solid granite, and they carried with them weapons of blunt force.

At once, the warriors leapt into action, attacking those whom had violated the path and scattering them in every direction. Hermione fired several blasts from her wand, only to find them ineffective. It was clear the warrior's stone bodies would require more explosive magic than her usual stuns and jinxes.

Near Snape, Killian ducked under one warrior's club, which found its mark in the other's head, tearing it from his stony shoulders. The now headless warrior swung its ax, missing Killian by a hair and lodging itself into Snape's fallen tree. Taking advantage, Killian blasted the warrior's arm clean off before sending another charge directly into its chest and shattering it into a thousand pieces. From there, Killian focused on the remaining foe.

Draco and Harry fought near the tiles, sending out wave after wave of volatile magic, creating mounds of debris in its wake. After Hermione dispatched of a few of her own, she joined them as the horde continued to push forward.

A resounding explosion sounded near the area where she had last seen Killian, followed by a rain of gravel sized stones. A moment later, Killian, having carved through the line, joined them in their stand. Now together, they cut through the remaining granite warriors with relative ease. Moments later, the area fell silent once again, with nothing but the heaving sounds of their gasps for breath filling the air.

They had escaped relatively unscathed. A few bumps, bruises, and minor lacerations from granite shrapnel accounted for most of the injuries. It could have been far worse.

"Bloody brilliant plan that was," Harry said grimly as he plopped down on the grass beside the path and brushed the stone and dust from his clothes.

"How was I to know?" Draco defended with a shrug.

There was not much else he could say. His plan clearly had not worked out as he had anticipated. Although, Hermione believed she could make out the hint of a grin in Draco's expression. After all, not only had Harry been blasted from the air, Harry was thoroughly annoyed, as well. For Draco, that was certainly a positive outcome.

"I would be more wary next time," Snape offered. "I daresay you will not survive a second failure."

Killian approached the tiles and stared at the images carved within.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked as she came up aside him.

"All hell broke loose when Harry fell on these tiles," Killian answered as his eyes continued to dance across the images.

"He fell on them randomly," Hermione surmised.

"So there must be a pattern," Killian suggested.

Hermione now scanned the tiles, searching for anything even resembling a pattern, but finding nothing of note.

"It looks completely unconnected," Hermione said.

Killian was now pacing, biting his lip as he massaged his temple. "If we have already been given the clues," he thought aloud, reiterating Snape's words, "we should have little trouble finding the way on our own."

"What?" Hermione asked, cocking her head.

"What are grains before they have been milled into flour?" Killian asked in return.

"What are what?" Hermione asked on, perplexed by the question.

Killian took a step and landed on one of the tiles. Hermione's heart leapt into her throat as an overwhelming sense of panic drowned out the sounds of Harry and Draco's shocked response to Killian's actions.

Killian, however, simply looked at Hermione and grinned. "Unrefined," he said.

Hermione looked at the tile and saw an image of a man standing before a miller's wheel with stalks of grain in his hand.

"And foul," Killian continued as he took another step, landing on a tile with the image of a duckling.

"Are you insane?" Draco shouted. "Do you want another band of granite hernhocks swinging for our heads?"

Hermione could barely breath. Her heart drummed in her chest. Killian had been right about the first two tiles. But was it luck? Odds were against it. Even so, the thought of Killian taking another step filled her with a sense of unrestricted fear.

Regardless, Killian looked to do just that, lifting his foot and leaning towards his next destination.

"Killian stop!" Hermione shouted.

His foot hovering over a tile, Killian obliged and looked to Hermione.

"Just stop," Hermione went on in far more collected tone. "Let's … Let's just take a moment to think this through."

"I agree," Harry said. "We need to be smart about this."

Snape walked over and leaned against the stone wall aside the tiles. "Such doubt," he drawled. "How amusing."

As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione could not disagree. She certainly doubted herself at the moment. She did not know why. Perhaps it was potential consequence of being wrong. In truth, the cause was irrelevant. The doubt was there and hung over her like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"Where were you going to step next?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape's comment about their collective anxiety.

"There is a tile marked with an eye," Killian answered.

"And?" Harry asked on.

"The Eye lay at the end of the turn," Killian answered.

"No need to interpret much there," Draco said. "An eye is an eye."

"Remind me how well your last brilliant deduction played out?" Harry asked with a touch of scorn.

"Careful, Potter," Draco snapped back, "or I'll toss you over again."

As Hermione tried to calm the former and oft present rivals, Killian took the step he had initiated previously. Hermione spun on him, her wits at an end.

"Dammit Killian!" she shouted in exasperation. "Stop moving!"

Reluctantly, Killian again obliged with Hermione's command, albeit this time whilst glancing around at the walls. Hermione, Harry, and Draco did the same, each holding their breath as they awaited any potential sign of trouble. None came.

"See?" Draco said, albeit not with a great deal of confidence. "All's well. What's next?"

"The end?" Hermione answered with as much confidence as Draco had displayed.

"The end?" Draco questioned. "What kind of bloody image is that?"

"Death?" Harry pondered aloud. "Is there an image of a skull and crossbones?"

"None that I see," Killian answered as he scanned the tiles about him. "Nor any other image along those lines."

Draco pointed to a tile three rows beyond Killian. "What's that one?"

"It looks like …" Killian began, tilting his head as he examined the tile, " … some form of fence. Or a gate, perhaps."

"A fence can mark a boundary line, can't it?" Draco theorized. "The end of a particular piece of property."

"Good enough," Killian said before anyone could argue, and quickly stepped to the tile.

Hermione wanted to scream with frustration. Killian's actions were nothing short of maddening. However, realizing it would be to little effect at this point, she stifled it away with clenched fists and gritted teeth.

Once they all realized they were not being assaulted by stony monoliths, Killian looked back with a raised eyebrow. "One more," he said. "I can only assume it must be the turn."

Harry leaned in, straining his eyes. Draco and Hermione did the same.

"I can hardly make out the tiles from here," Harry called to Killian. "What do you see?"

Killian looked around. "Nothing that particularly rings of a turn or a spin," he answered. "A star, a square, three parallel lines. Random animals … a bear, an ox, a fish. A man leaning over a board of some sort. A half dozen or so symbols, astrological perhaps."

"Know of any star signs that symbolize the end?" Harry asked of Hermione.

"I may be able to simply jump from here," Killian suggested. "It's not much furth—"

"No!" Hermione chastised. "Don't move! You saw what happened the last time we tried to cut a corner!" She then pressed her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes in contemplation. "The man leaning over the board," she went on. "What is he doing?"

"Leaning over a board," Killian answered.

"That's it?" Hermione asked. "Nothing else?"

Killian again tilted his head, this time squinting his eyes as he looked for further detail. "He appears to have something in his hand," he said. "A tool, perhaps."

Harry leaned over to Hermione. "Sanding?" he offered.

"Or lathing," Hermione offered in return. "He's a woodturner."

"A what?" Draco and Killian asked in unison.

"A woodturner," Hermione repeated. "They use a lathe to shape wooden objects." Her explanation was met with blank stares from the pair of Slytherins. "It's a Muggle thing," she explained with a sigh before turning to Snape. "And something you would have known about, being a Half-blood yourself."

"Are you certain?" Snape asked coolly. "You wear such apprehension in your eyes."

Hermione looked to Killian. He was awaiting an answer. Could the woodturner be the turn? It was very close, but it was not exact. Then again, Spinners End was not exactly the end of the turn. Further still, Harry could be right. Perhaps one of the signs or symbols Killian had mentioned were representative of the end. Or perhaps it was something far more cryptic.

"That's it," Hermione said at last. "The woodturner."

"Are you certain?" Killian asked.

It was the very same question Professor Snape had asked only seconds before. But in direct contrast to old Potions master's cutting and dismissive tone, Killian voice was even and soothing to Hermione's ears, calming her anxieties as she wrestled with the options fighting in out in her head.

"Yes," Hermione answered hesitantly. "I think …"

"You think?" Draco asked.

"Maybe," Hermione muttered.

"Oh, this is brilliant," Draco went on.

Killian seemed to ignore Draco's remark, his eyes meeting with Hermione's as if she were the only other person present.

"Yes?" he asked simply.

Hermione did not answer. She could not. Nor did she have to do so. Killian had his answer, whether she verbalized it to him or not.

"Off we go."

Without hesitation, Killian stepped onto the tile and awaited judgment. Harry cringed. Draco looked away. Hermione and Snape, however, could not take their eyes off Killian. After a few moments, when nothing happened, a collective sigh of relief emanated from the area.

"You are quite gifted," Snape reluctantly offered to Hermione, who was holding her hands to her mouth and taking deep, calming breaths. He then turned to Killian. "And you are quite reckless. As odd a partnership as Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. However … Well played."

"Reckless?" Draco said with grin and gesture towards Killian. "He's a mindless bloody git! No go on and get that Eye so we can get out of here!"

Killian took the final step that landed him on the path beyond the tiles. The moment he cleared the puzzle, the ground began to rumble once more. This time, however, no granite guardians erupted from the walls. Instead, the walls themselves began to shift, swiftly drawing the narrow gap together.

"No!" Hermione cried.

Without thought, she quickly danced across the same path Killian had just completed, barely breeching the other side before Killian pulled her clear of the walls as they collided with a deafening impact.

"Are you mad?" Killian asked.

Hermione straightened up in Killian's arms and looked back to where the tiles had been.

"It sealed up," she said. "You don't think Harry or Draco—"

"They're safe," Killian assured. "They were not foolish enough to leap between collapsing walls." He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You could have been killed."

Hermione again looked to the stone wall that now separated them from their companions, before turning back to Killian.

"I wasn't," she said, forcing a smile.

Killian looked as though he wanted to say something more, but no words came of it. Instead, he reached up and grasped the same disobedient lock of Hermione's hair that still so often fell in her eyes and gently tucked back behind her ear.

"I see," Snape drawled with disapproval, seeming to appear from nowhere. "How easily the gifted become reckless themselves when the situation suits the senses."

"How will we get back?" Hermione asked of Killian, disregarding Snape's remark entirely.

"That will be a bridge to cross once we get there," Killian answered.

Together, they made their way up the hill towards the oddly placed door. When they arrived upon it, it appeared stranger still. It was simply a door. Nothing more, nothing less. And it did not seem to have a purpose beyond standing upright atop a hill in a strange painting with deadly traps.

Even so, Hermione reached for the knob, turned it, and the door swung open. As it did, the area around them melted away and they found themselves once again standing in the doorway to Snape's home on Spinners End.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not certain," Killian answered.

"I don't understand," Hermione went on. "Where is the Eye?"

"Also not certain," Killian answered as he stepped inside and looked about.

Hermione followed, noticing that the house was eerily quiet.

"George?" she called out to no return. "Where is everyone?"

Killian raised his hand to quite Hermione and then pointed off towards the room where they had left George, Altimus, and Wraith when they entered the painting. The distinct sounds of a crackling fire emanated from the area and tell-tale shadows of flames danced along the wall.

Upon entering the area, however, they were not greeted by the trio they had left behind in the pursuit of the Eye of Infinitio. Instead, they found Professor Snape sitting quietly in his throne-esque chair, intently reading from one of the many books within his reach.

"Professor?" Hermione called to him cautiously.

Snape looked up from his book and glanced between Hermione and Killian before gesturing towards a pair of chairs set across from his own.

"Would you care to talk?" he offered.