13.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Please come in." Dumbledore said with a genial smile, waving his guest in. "Please sit down."

Hermione had never once been in the Headmaster's office during her time at Hogwarts. She'd never had a reason too. She'd never been in trouble which was the only reason the young witch could think for anyone to be called to the Headmaster's office. However, she wasn't a shocked that she had received the summons. She had been expecting to be spoken to for three days now, and had been quite surprised that she hadn't been booted out of school that night she'd sent her Patronus for help.

Now that she was here, she was positive that the formalities would be undertaken, and she would be going home very soon, though she deeply hoped that her record would be taken into account and she might just get off with a few hundred detentions rather than expelled.

"Would you care for a butterscotch?" Dumbledore asked politely, motioning to the tiny sweets bowl. Hermione shook her head in the negative and the Headmaster sat back with a warm smile. "I am sure you are wondering why I asked you here today. You've been an exemplary student in your seven years here, and as your Headmaster, I couldn't be prouder of your performance."

"Thank you sir." Hermione said clearing her throat. "But if we could just skip all the small talk and just tell me how bad my punishment will be?"

"Punishment?' Dumbledore cocked his head curiously

"Isn't that why I'm here, sir?" She asked, unable to stop the glint of hope from lacing her tone. "Because I was in the Chamber of Secrets with Harry, and he got hurt. I know that I should have stopped him. I should have tried to find a teacher sooner. I mean, here was this person in the castle who is definitely not a student, and I just…"

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore held up his hand to stop her. Hermione looked rather embarrassed but held the older man's eyes. "You are not going to be punished. Other than exercising questionable judgment, you did nothing wrong. In fact it is likely because of you that Mister Potter is alive now. And that is what I wished to speak to you about. Your relationship with Mister Potter. Professor McGonagall tells me that you are friendly with him?

"Yes, sir." Hermione confirmed though she was now very puzzled.

"I see." Dumbledore nodded and then fixed Hermione with a pointed look. "Then, may I ask when you first came to know Mister Potter?"

"I met him in Diagon Alley shortly before the start of term. He came up to me in Flourish and Blotts, and asked me to join him for ice cream." Hermione said, unable to stop herself from smiling at the memory of a cute boy coming to chat her up. It wasn't really the first time it had happened, but it was the best one so far.

Dumbledore however didn't look as pleased as he regarded the young witch. "And did you see him again, before that night in the castle?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, becoming more intrigued by this line of questioning. "About a week before the start of term, though we had a sort of row. Sir, what is this about?"

Dumbledore leaned in, placing his arms on his desk, and steepling his fingers as he peered at Hermione who was obviously confused by this line of questioning.

"Miss Granger, I need you to understand first that I do not make it a habit of interfering in my students personal relationships." He began in a tone that suggested he had her best interests at heart. "Whom you choose to be involved with is up to you and you alone."

Hermione continued to stare at the Headmaster with bemusement.

"However in this case," Dumbledore continued, "I feel it necessary to ask you to refrain from further interactions with our mutual friend. There is much you don't know about his situation, and it could prove very dangerous for you. The events from the other night should be enough for you to understand why I say this to you."

"Sir, I don't… Are you trying to tell me that Harry is dangerous?" Hermione asked with obvious mystification.

"In a manner of speaking." Dumbledore nodded. He glanced around for a second before he fixed her with his most genuine look of concern. "What you must understand about Harry is…"

"I think you're mistaken sir." Hermione said quickly stopping Dumbledore from continuing.. "With all due respect, I don't think Harry is dangerous. He's a lot of things, Obstinate, impetuous, and not very forthcoming. But he's also sweet, selfless, and he's in a lot of pain because of what happened in his world. I think he's afraid too. Afraid of not being able to prevent what happened there from happening here as well. And besides, if he really was as dangerous as you believe, why would you allow him anywhere near Hogwarts. Why wouldn't you have sent him back from where he came as soon as you knew he was dangerous?"

"Forgive me Miss Granger, but you know that he's…" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"That he's from a world like ours and you brought him here to fight Voldemort?" Hermione finished the question. "Yes. He told me. He told me about the war in his world, and how it was essentially the same here."

Dumbledore looked troubled at this revelation. "Miss Granger, while it is admirable that you wish to help an obviously troubled young man, you do not have all the facts. Mister Potter is capable of very ingenious methods of bending people to his will."

"I have enough sir. I'm aware that sometimes people can be disingenuous sir. But I don't believe that Harry is one of those people." Hermione protested.

"Which tells me that he already has you beguiled." Dumbledore replied. "Again, I must insist that you distance yourself from Mister Potter. For your own good."

Hermione was dumbstruck, stunned by the finality of Dumbledore's "advice". For some reason that Hermione couldn't figure out at the moment, the Headmaster did not want her to have any sort of interaction with her friend. This was something that was not sitting right with the young witch especially as she knew he was wrong about Harry.

On top of it, Hermione really thought it was best if Harry wasn't alone right now. He'd only just started opening up about what had happened in his world. He really needed a friend right now, and she wasn't about to abandon him. She wasn't even sure if she could. Though she couldn't confirm it, she was becoming more convinced that she and Harry were meant to be in each other's lives. She didn't know to what extent that was. Were they only meant to be friends? Or more? Or less? She didn't have anything even remotely close to an answer for that. She only knew that Harry was important to her.

The question was how to make the Headmaster understand that she wasn't going to abandon Harry, and no one was going to make her.

"Sir, may I ask you a question?" Hermione said softly. Dumbledore gave a nod, though he appeared as though he was not going to argue the matter of Harry Potter any further.

"What do you know about soul mates?" She queried. Dumbledore's face softened immediately. He seemed to relax in his chair as he beamed at her. Hermione guessed it was because she had changed the topic.

"There are a great many mysteries in magic, none more beautiful than the mystery of Love. It is one of the greatest and most tragic powers in the world. While I have never personally experienced or even witnessed anything to prove that two people's souls could actually call out for one another, that two people were meant for each other alone, I do believe that you could connect with someone so strongly that you could believe they are in fact your soul mate." Dumbledore smiled. "If it isn't to bold of me, may I ask why you're inquiring on this subject?"

"Because I think that Harry and I are supposed to be together." Hermione stated quickly. Dumbledore's face fell but Hermione pressed on. "I personally don't believe in such silly romantic ideas, but I can't deny that I've felt some pretty strange things since the end of July. And as it turns out, that was roughly around the time that Harry was brought here. It started like this feeling that I was supposed to be somewhere else. Everywhere I was, I felt that I needed to be someplace else, but I didn't know where. But then I met Harry, and that feeling went away, and I felt whole, as odd as that may sound. What was even weirder was that I had never felt that anything was missing in my life. Not until that night in July anyway. I don't know what any of it means, and I definitely don't know what is going to happen, or what Harry and I will be. But I do know that I can't abandon him. You said before that you don't normally interfere with personal relationships and that who I associate with is my business. I do appreciate that you're trying to protect me, but I think that you're mistaken about Harry."

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged slightly, and he sighed heavily. Hermione looked at the headmaster for a long moment before the man finally nodded with defeat and dismissed her. Hermione stood and quickly left the office. Dumbledore felt horrible now.

It is always difficult when one has to take a look at themselves and see that whatever is troubling them is internal. That was the conundrum that Albus Dumbledore faced now. While he still believed that Harry potter was dangerous, the old headmaster knew that the boy was not a threat to Miss Granger, or any of the other students. Nor was he a threat to anyone who believed in good. It was truly Voldemort and his followers who had anything to fear from Harry Potter.

So why had the old wizard convinced himself that the boy was dangerous? Was it the method in which he fought the Death Eaters? So ruthless, and cold, without honor? Or was it that the boy seemed to be twice the wizard Dumbledore himself had been at that age? Skills hardened by conflict and necessity. Or did Dumbledore's jealousy revolve around something more.

For many years, Dumbledore had been the one that Britain turned to for answers. Not just Britain, but the world. He had been a guiding light in the darkest of times. He'd helped to make their society better in so many ways. He, who had shown the magical world that without muggleborns to deepen the pools of magic, wizards could very well become extinct. Albus Dumbledore had been a beacon of hope and good and he had always known the best course of action.

But not anymore. He didn't have the answers. That was why he, in his most desperate hour, ripped a young man from his home in the vain hope that he could end the conflict that Dumbledore could not.

Dumbledore rose from his seat, and went to the window. He looked down at the grounds where snow was beginning to fall gently. There were many students out in it, running, and laughing and being young, completely ignorant to the evil that lay beyond the school. Dumbledore envied them badly.

He had been wrong. It was a mistake to try and isolate the boy. Harry had suffered far more than any single person should, and here he was trying to inflict more pain upon him because he had had his feelings hurt. And what if young Miss granger was right? What if she and Harry were meant to be? Trying to keep them apart would only make matters worse, and could end up getting one or both of them killed.

Dumbledore sighed as he watched the young at play. It was his duty to protect them from the violence that Voldemort intended to cause, and the best way to do that was to allow Harry to fight this war in the way he felt was best, giving him all the support he could muster. Afterwards, it was his responsibility to make sure that Harry could return to his world should he wish it, or make sure he had a chance at a good life here if he wanted to stay. He owed the boy that at the least. He would not hinder the young man, nor would he question his methods, so long as they did not place anyone else in danger. Perhaps if he worked with Harry instead of against him, the war could finally be ended.

In another part of the castle, Harry Potter was also staring out a window. He was standing in his new quarters, something similar to the room he'd been given when he first came here, though this one was larger. Harry guessed it was for special guests. Dignitaries and the like. Perhaps the OWL and NEWT contingent.

The quarters was divided into three rooms. A main living area, with a sofa and two chairs, along with a small table set before a small fireplace. A bedroom with a larger bed than was usually found in the dormitories and a wardrobe. And finally a bathroom.

Harry had been told that he could take his meals there if he wished, and Harry got the impression that Dumbledore would prefer it if he refrained from being seen by the students. Harry understood that his being seen would lead to far too many questions, and Harry understood that there were children of Death Eaters attending the school. Voldemort would eventually learn who he was and where he was, and that could put everyone in danger. Harry wasn't willing to put the school in peril again if he could help it.

It was for that reason he wanted to get into the school records as soon as possible. It had been one of the things discussed when the current arrangement had been made. Harry would stay at Hogwarts where he could have access to the student records as he was the only one who didn't have to be reminded of Voldemort's real identity. It was thought that Harry might be able to learn something about Voldemort that would help them to find his horcruxes. In the meantime, Remus, Lily and Sirius, under Harry's suggestion, would scour Little Hangleton for any sign of a horcrux. Harry was sure there was one there, though he wasn't sure where. Only that as it was where Voldemort's story began, it made sense that it was special to him. The other place Harry suggested was the place he had faced his first defeat. Godric's Hollow.

Harry decided that there was really no time like the present and headed for the door. He'd been ordered by Madam Pomfrey that he should take things easy for the next few days. He had been reluctantly released from her care, but his recovery had been nothing short of remarkable in her opinion. Still, she demanded that he visit her every other day so she could monitor him. A small price to pay for being allowed to escape the hospital wing.

As he opened the door, he got a start when he found Hermione standing there, her hand poised to knock on his door. She smiled brightly when she saw him, and Harry felt a wave of relaxation washed over him.

Her brown eyes brightened and he felt a pang in his heart. Harry was becoming more and more conflicted when it came to the very pretty witch. Physically, she was attractive. Of that there was no doubt in his mind. Tall, brunette, skin the color of cream. She was thin, but not unhealthy. Harry would have described her as having a ballet dancer's body, though she was a bit more pronounced in her chest.

But it wasn't her body that drew him to her. It was more her personality. There were things that reminded him of the girl he had loved in his world. Hermione had Ginny's tenacity, and her ability to see through Harry's bullshit. But Hermione was more logical than Ginny. Harry also thought that Hermione was much more empathic than Ginny. She knew he was hurting, just as Lily knew. But Hermione wasn't satisfied with allowing Harry to deal with things on his own. She had unfortunately witnessed first hand what his pain was doing to him. When he woke up in the hospital wing she had confronted him about it. It was clearly the wrong thing to do, and Hermione had admitted as much soon after. Yet she hadn't given up on him either. She had tackled the issue from a new angle, and just got him to talk about those he'd lost.

It had been truly cleansing. Harry was not under any illusion that he was over his losses, but he didn't feel as if he was under a heavy dark cloud.

He was also now struggling with some new feelings. He felt guilt when he thought of her. Guilt because he was supposed to love Ginny, and she had sacrificed herself for him. Yet, Hermione made him feel happy he was still alive so that he could know her. And that made him feel strange because he didn't want to rely on her or anyone else like some sort of potion to live. It was all very confusing, and Harry hated when his mind wandered into this mess. He really needed to focus on ending this world's Voldemort.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" He asked surprised.

"I came to visit my friend." She replied. "And ask him a few questions. But it looks like you're going somewhere."

"Uh, yeah I am." Harry said. "But you could come along if you like. I could use the help."

"We're not going into another secret room to fight a dragon or something, are we?" Hermione asked cocking her head and giving him a expression of reluctance. Harry had to laugh as he shook his head.

"No I swear." He said with a small smile. "Just going to the school records."

"Oh." Hermione brightened. "In that case, I would love to come."

The two teens began heading towards Mister Filch's office in silence for a minute before Hermione looked at Harry with a worried expression.

"Did you and Dumbledore have a row?" She asked without preamble. Harry quickly looked at her, a moment of confusion on his face before it melted into one of acceptance.

"Several." Harry shrugged. "Let's just say that the Headmaster and I disagree on a number of matters. I think we both want the same thing, but we don't see eye to eye when it comes to how to accomplish those things. It doesn't matter though. The Minister seems to be agreeing with me if the paper is anything to go on."

"Martial Law?' Hermione asked. "That was your idea?"

"Sort of." Harry shrugged. "So long as the Ministry has Death Eaters and supporters of Voldemort infiltrating its ranks, they will be constantly sabotaged in their efforts. We all discussed ways to stop it from happening, and that was the best solution. Why are you asking about me and Dumbledore?"

"I just came from his office." She began. "He was pretty insistent that I stop speaking to you. He thinks you might be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Harry asked, smirking. "Did he actually say that?"

Hermione nodded and Harry laughed again.

"Wow." He grimaced, reigning in his humor.

"Why would he say that?" Hermione pressed.

"Like I said, we see things differently. Dumbledore clearly wants to believe the best in people. It's a nice sentiment, but it isn't reality. There are just some people who don't want to be good. They want power, or wealth and will do anything to get it. And some… some people just want to burn the world to the ground. That's where this world is. And unfortunately to end this conflict, there needs to be someone who can see the world's darkness and be willing to fight it correctly. Maybe that's why he got me instead of another Harry Potter." Harry explained.

"You know I was thinking about that the other night, and it's so hard to fathom that there can be literally millions of different versions of someone. As you say you were the one, but it could have been someone so vile, so evil…" Hermione eyed him warily and Harry nodded his agreement.

"It could have been a me that never knew magic. One who was a coward, or one who just could care less and be unwilling at all to help just so he could see it all burn." Harry added.

"What about me?" Hermione said thoughtfully. Somewhere out there is a Hermione Granger who is everything I despise. A giggling, airhead who's never once opened a book, or had a single meaningful thought."

Hermione shivered and Harry chuckled. "I think it's best that you stop thinking about the infinite possibilities, and just try and be the best version of you you can be." He said and Hermione agreed with him.

They arrived at Filch's office, and Harry was slightly taken aback by the caretaker who stood to greet him. He was smiling. The man Harry had known had been a sour old squib who hated children. This man was genial, and polite. He claimed to have been expecting Harry, and showed him to the records room before bowing to both of them and leaving them to their task.

"So Voldemort was a student here?' Hermione looked intrigued.

"Yeah except he didn't go by Voldemort. His name was Tom Riddle. But the name is cursed and in like five minutes, you're going to forget all about it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've told you this before."

"Interesting defense." Hermione said thoughtfully. "If no one can remember who you were, then they will believe you to be the god you want them to think you are, I suppose." Hermione noted.

"Here we go." Harry said pulling a file. "Wow, this Filch is far more organized then the one in my world. Ok, Tom Riddle was born in 1927, that's when it says his name showed up. You know I've always wondered how Hogwarts learns about magical children to be potential students."

There is a book in the Ministry that records magical births." Hermione stated as she read over Harry's shoulder. "Each spring the Ministry sends the names and current whereabouts of each child to the Deputy Headmistress."

Harry turned to her inqusitively. "And how does the Ministry know the whereabouts of every magical child?"

Hermione only shrugged. "I don't work there. I don't know every secret."

Harry gave a snort, and Hermione grinned at him, giving him a playful push.

"Ok, so Riddle was first contact on August 2nd, 1937 by Dumbledore. So far it's all the same from my world. Though, there's no mention about Riddle wishing to go to Diagon Alley by himself, or anything else that may have happened during that meeting. Oh…" Harry looked surprised.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"He wasn't at an orphanage." Harry stated. "He was living with Martha and Frank O'Brien. I wonder if he'd been adopted, or in foster care. He got top marks in Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration as well as potions. But nothing else that year. Not even a visit to the hospital wing."

"Really?" Hermione asked a little puzzled. "That's unusual. Everybody gets sick every now and then."

"See for yourself." Harry said passing record over. "Second year looks to be the same. Top marks and nothing to note. Third year he took Runes and Arithmancy, and took top marks, and it looks like he got into a spot of trouble here. Caught in the Restricted section of the Library after curfew. Found by Professor Horace Slughorn. That's interesting. In my world the only teacher that Voldemort had any sort of connection to was Slughorn. He manipulated Slughorn into helping him in his quest for immortality."

"How?" "Hermione asked looking intrigued.

"He appealed to Slughorn's ego. Showered him with compliments as he asked questions, and made it all seem like it was for educational purposes. I think I might need to talk to Slughorn." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Can you commune with the dead?" Hermione asked and Harry looked up with puzzlement.

"Horace Slughorn was killed by Death Eaters in 1981." Hermione explained. "He was the last person who died before Voldemort's attack on Godric's Hollow. I guess now I know why he was killed. It wasn't just some random murder."

"Damn." Harry sighed as he continued looking through Voldemort's file. "There's no mention of special services to the school. He was a prefect in his fifth year, but not in his sixth or seventh, and he wasn't head boy. I wonder why he wasn't a prefect after his fifth year. There's nothing in here about any sort of disciplinary action, or about him refusing to continue on. Oh, this is interesting. He didn't graduate."

"He didn't?" Hermione looked horror struck. "Why?

"It doesn't say." Harry said. "Only that he left school in May of 1945. "And there's no NEWT transcript."

"So where does that leave you?" Hermione questioned as Harry slipped the file back into the drawer.

"No where." Harry replied. "With his name cursed so that no one remembers him, it's near impossible to find out where he went after Hogwarts. Which isn't to far from what the Voldemort in my world did, though he did take a job in a shop for a bit, then he murdered some old lady, stole her treasures, and disappeared for a number of years. I've got to assume that this Voldemort did similar, though I'm stymied. And without some kind of knowledge of his past, I have no idea where he might hide his Horcruxes."

"His what?" Hermione looked truly confused and Harry smiled.

"It's how he protected himself from death. They're horrible things, and the less you know about them the better."

"Harry I can…" She began and Harry held up his hands.

"I know you can take care of yourself." He cut her off. "But Dumbledore's already tried to make me out to be dangerous, and I don't need to add any fuel to that fire. I like talking with you."

Hermione gave him a soft, sort of shy smile. "I like talking with you as well."

They fell silent, just smiling at one another before Hermione indicated the file in Harry's hand. "Is there anything in there that might help?"

Harry looked at the records again, a grim expression on his face. He gave a small shrug, and then his eyes caught something he had missed. He flipped through the pages again, his face contorting into a look of bewilderment.

"He was in foster care." Harry said. "In his first year, the contact for any emergencis were the O'Brien's. Same as his second, but in his third year, it was someone named May Felton. And then his fourth year it was Conrad and Maggie Dunham. Then his sixth year it was William and Abigail Barton. And in his final year it was Michael and Allison Vernonia. If any of them are still alive, there's a chance they might have memories of him."

"But you said he cursed his real name so no one could remember it." Hermione reminded him.

"But that doesn't mean they won't still have the memories of him. A Legillimens would be able to find them." Harry said, looking for some parchment. He went to Filch's desk, and took a scrap, and used the caretaker's quill to make some notes. He handed the file to Hermione, asking her to put it back. When she was done, Harry led her out of the office.

"Where are we going now?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I need to talk to Dumbledore, so we can start trying to track down these people. After that, i thought maybe we could get something to eat. That is unless you have something else you need to do…"

Hermione smiled at the hopeful look on the boy's face and looped her arm around his.

"I could eat." She said and Harry smiled as he escorted her away.

"You know, I haven't been to a lot of cemetaries in my life, but I have to say this one is really bleak." Sirius Black said as he and his two companions entered the dreary graveyard. "Is it me or does it feel really oppressive."

"It isn't just you." Lily said looking around. "It sort of feels like we shouldn't be here."

"It's a spell." Remus said. "Look here."

Sirius and Lily turned and found Remus at the gate, stepping back and forth.

"It's definitely a spell. When you cross through the gates, that's when you begin to feel it." He explained. "It's almost like a muggle repelling charm or something."

Sirius tried, passing back through the wrought iron archway and smiling when he was on the other side. "It's like a weight was lifted."

Then Sirius turned and walked back through. "And there it is again."

"So we're thinking the Horcrux is here then." Lily said and the two men agreed.

"Yeah, I'm thinking the kid made a pretty good guess." Sirius agreed. "That bloke at the pub said the Riddle crypt was at the top of the hill."

Sirius led the way, followed by Lily and then Remus, who was watching the pair with interest. He and Sirius had stayed up late the previous night as Sirius vented about how being near Lily so much was killing him. Sirius had wanted to split up and have everyone search different places until Remus suggested that Lily might inadvertently walk into a trap. Sirius scowled at the thought, and then his resolve crumbled.

"Why don't you just tell her?" Remus had asked and Sirius looked as if his friend had just suggested he kill a thousand puppies in front of a group of children.

"You know why." Sirius had replied.

"Do you really believe that James is going to resurrect himself to beat you for having strong feelings for Lily? A girl we all grew up with, and have all had feelings for at one time or another? And do you really think that he would be happy with her isolation? She deserves happiness, and James would want her to find that happiness, and if it was with his best friend, all the better."

Sirius had come up with excuse after excuse as to why it was best if he kept Lily at arm's length, and Remus shot down each and every one. When Remus finally went to bed, he thought he had Sirius convinced that he had nothing to lose by coming clean, and that it was possible that Lily may have some feelings for Sirius. And judging by how nervous Sirius was today, Remus had every reason to believe that he had gotten through to his old friend. But Remus also knew how cowardly the dog could be when it came to things like this.

The trio trudged up the hill in tentative silence, where five stone buildings stood, each marked with a family name. The Riddle crypt was the nicest of the five, as well as the cleanest. Sirius tapped his wand on the heavy padlock and looked over his shoulder as it fell away. He opened the heavy gate and stepped inside. There was a small empty room with another gate, and a staircase descending into darkness.

"I guess we're going down." Sirius said over his shoulder.

Slowly and cautiously they descended. Sirius used his wand to cast light into the black. The stairs ended in a much larger hall. Both walls lined with gold plaques, each with the name of the corpse resting within.

"We're looking for Tom Riddle Sr.." Lily said, replacing the note that HArry had given, charmed with a compulsion to look at it every five minutes.

"It's this one." Remus said, pointing to a gold plaque. Lily used her wand to unseal the resting place of Tom Riddle Sr. The odor of decay was overwhelming, and Sirius quickly cast a fresh air spell to dissipate the foul air. Lily levitated the coffin out and set it respectfully on the ground.

"Do you feel that?" Remus asked. The others looked at him and nodded. There was a very oppressive feeling on them now. A sense of hopelessness gripping them. Remus opened his cloak and pulled the sword of Slytherin.

Sirius nodded when Remus indicated he was ready, and opened the lid of the coffin. The decayed body of Tom Riddle Senior lay inside, arms folded over his chest, his skeletal mouth wide open. His clothing was in tatters and cobwebs clung to the threads, holding it together. On his chest rested a silver chain which shone bright in Sirius's wand light. It was almost as if it had just been placed around the corpse's neck. The chain was attached to a medallion with a family crest on it.

"Do you recognize that?" Sirius asked.

"Let's just destroy it, we can figure out what it is later." Lily said, her voice trembling as badly as she was.

"Are we sure that's it?" Sirius asked.

"Look at it Sirius, it looks brand new. It should be filthy or…" Lily started but Remus cut her off.

"There's only one way to know." He nearly shouted as he stabbed the sword right into the medallion. There was a shockwave that sent all of them sprawling back. Lily hit her head on the bottom stair while both Remus and Sirius crashed hard into walls. It felt like hurricane strength winds were blowing in the crypt, and a strangled moan emanated from the coffin.

And then it stopped.

Slowly the three got back to their feet and approached the coffin which had crumbled. The corpse was now little more than dust. The necklace was still there, but now it was a twisted, blackened hunk of melted silver. Sirius bent, reaching for it when Lily stopped him.

"It might still be dangerous." She cautioned. Sirius nodded and emus used the sword to lift the ruined necklace. Lily conjured a small box and Remus laid the necklace inside.

"Okay." Sirius said, sighing in relief as he moved towards Lily to check her over after seeing blood on her cloak. She had a cut on the back of her head, but other than that she was alright.

"That was easy." He grinned, the others looking rather surprised.

Somewhere far from the graveyard, a man twisted and contorted in agony. He writhed on all fours, gritting his teeth. When the pain subsided, he spat a mouthful of blood on the floor as he heard a door open, and a concerned woman ask if he was alright.

Lord Voldemort rose, and his most faithful follower, his second mother Bellatrix gasped as she beheld him.

"My Lord." She started forward, arms reaching out to touch his face. "What has happened?"

Voldemort shoved her aside and stormed out of the room in search of a mirror. What he beheld caused him to smash his fist into the glass as he roared with anger.

His face had become discolored, paler, and the smooth skin had taken on a scaly texture. There were now three long cuts in his left cheek. They weren't bleeding, but they looked like raw open cuts. He held up his long fingers, and grimaced at his darkened nails.

He turned around, finding Bellatrix standing behind him looking extremely worried.

"Master?" she asked timidly.

"Bring me Severus!" Voldemort snapped.