Year 5-13: On Hallowed Ground

A/N: My partial rewrite of the early chapters is now more or less complete. I made some significant changes to the first two years, but I didn't alter anything fundamental about the story if you don't want to go back and re-read. Most of the changes I made were minor and have no long-term bearing on the story, but some of the biggest departures include:

- Harry's early wand issues

- The troll incident

- Harry's reaction to the Cloak theft

- The first attempt at exposing Quirrell

- Harry's approach to locating the diary

- Harry's first year of Quidditch

I might go back and rework some things in Year Three at some point, but for now I'm gonna soldier on and finish writing Year Five. If my calculations are correct, I should be able to finish it before the Christmas holidays. So welcome back, and thanks for sticking with me through this rocky patch!

There was a time when Harry got caught up in the excitement of the train rides to and from Hogwarts. Children screaming and running up and down the halls of the Hogwarts Express, swapping jokes and stories about what they'll be up to for the upcoming break. But he found himself growing tired of being surrounded by such juvenile behavior. He was nearing twenty-one years old mentally and yearned to spend more time around people closer to his 'true' age.

Which is why he was looking forward to the upcoming Spring Break. Although it meant a return to the war efforts, it was also a return to adult life, which he was tired of being kept out of. He wanted to talk about something other than school work, or relationship gossip, or which girls had developed the most that term. He wanted to be treated like the grown-up he knew in his head he truly was.

Catching up with his father gave Harry exactly what he was looking for. That evening, James and Harry sat in the backyard, sipping Butterbeers and catching up on what was happening on the outside world. James must have sensed Harry's growing discomfort with being infantilized and had started talking to him like a peer rather than a child, which Harry greatly appreciated.

"Mood's been tense at the Ministry as of late," James admitted, staring out across the dark expanse of Godric's Hollow beyond the warded fence line. "Even those not in the know can sense something's brewing. Everyone's on-edge, worried. Since Amelia got the boot, they seem to think they'll be next if they stick their next out."

"Surely people realize what a fool Fudge is by now?" Harry asked hopefully. "Can't everyone get together and do something about it?"

"The thing you have to understand, Harry," said James patiently, "is that most people just want to go along with the flow and not ruffle any feathers. Do their job, get paid, then go home to their families. Anything that threatens to disrupt that peace is an unacceptable risk."

"Even if making a change would improve everyone's lives?" Harry scoffed. "Even if it means stopping a Dark Lord from taking over? It's such bullshit!"

"Language," James muttered, but he didn't truly sound bothered by it. "You and I know better, but that's because we were both raised to do the right thing, even if it's hard. There will come a time when people realize how bad things have gotten and embrace that change, but that day hasn't yet come."

"When will it, then?" Harry demanded. "When Voldemort's literally kicking down the front door and throwing around Killing Curses?"

"Basically, yes," James laughed hollowly. "It's only human nature to pretend the worst can never happen. In the meantime, we just have to do what we can to stay in a position to right the ship when the time comes to act."

"D'you reckon that time will be soon?" Harry asked.

"Not soon enough," James said bitterly. "I dunno if I'll last the year at the Auror Office. Fudge will use just about anything as justification to have me removed at this point. And more than likely people won't question it, given how easily he was able to be rid of Amelia."

"What will you do if you are fired?" Harry asked.

"Truthfully, it'll free me up to fight the war the way it needs to be fought," James shrugged. "Being in an office all day doesn't help us accomplish what needs to really be done. Don't tell your mother I said this, but I almost welcome it."

Harry was surprised to hear his father say this. But he fully understood the sentiment behind it – he felt much the same way about being cooped up at Hogwarts. He couldn't admit it out loud, of course – he didn't want to give his parents a heart attack by voicing his thoughts of quitting his education two years early. It was an unlikely scenario anyway – as long as Dahlia and Damian were enrolled at Hogwarts, he would feel compelled to stay and watch out for them.

"I want to help," Harry said firmly. "In any way I can. I know I'm still underage for another year and a bit, but I'm ready to join this war."

James eyed his son warily. "I wish I could stop you," he eventually sighed. "But I know damn well that's impossible. I've only been able to slow you down so far, but you're determined to jump right into the thick of it, aren't you?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange is still out there," Harry said mutinously. "She has to pay for what she's done to our family. And I'll see to it that she does."

"You will do no such thing," James said, turning to face Harry fully. "She's the most dangerous witch alive, second only to the Dark Lord himself. I fought her myself in the last war, and she nearly bested me before backup arrived. Promise me you won't pick a fight with Lestrange."

"If I see her in battle—" Harry growled.

"Then you will keep your distance," James said firmly. "I mean it, Harry. You're a gifted fighter, I won't deny it, but picking a fight with her is suicidal. Don't make your family mourn you like we've already mourned for your mother's parents. Promise me."

"Alright," Harry sighed. "I promise."

He knew James was right, of course – he still wasn't ready to take on the best of the best, and Bellatrix Lestrange belonged to that upper tier that he had not himself reached yet. He would have to keep training, keep improving until he could stand toe to toe with her and get the best out of the exchange. Patience was key, a difficult lesson that he was still trying to learn in his new timeline.

He was grateful that the next Order of the Stag meeting was just two days later. Dahlia was sent off to the Burrow to spend the day with Ginny, as the other three Potters took the Floo to Remus and Alessia's home. Barty Crouch was not present, but all of the others were in the dining room when they arrived: Sirius, Remus, Alessia, Amelia Bones, Dale Greengrass, and Andromeda Tonks, all standing to greet them when they arrived.

"Barty couldn't make it today," James announced as he took his seat at the head of the table. "He's trying to limit his overseas visits, since international Portkeys are more expensive than ever at the moment."

"Not to mention illegal," Amelia muttered. "Probably spooked that he doesn't have an insider in the DMLE to cover his tracks anymore."

"Who's replaced you in the department?" asked Harry.

"John Dawlish," James muttered bitterly. "It's not uncommon for former Aurors to get promoted to the position. It is uncommon to go behind the back of the office head and promote one of his subordinates to a superior position."

"He always was more loyal to the Minister than anyone else," Amelia nodded forlornly. "Fudge is trying to stuff every department with loyalists and kick out anyone who poses a threat to him."

"He's doing the same with the Wizengamot," Dale Greengrass sighed. "Two of my colleagues have resigned this term already after being smeared in the Prophet for nonsense issues. Everyone is afraid to take a side, in case they become the next target of the spin cycle."

"Were you successful in earning the ICW seat?" asked James.

"I was," Dale nodded. "Pulled a few favors to secure the votes after I put my name forward. Lord Selwyn seemed surprised to have opposition, but he took the loss without complaint at least."

"Because he doesn't know what we have planned yet," James sighed. "According to Crouch and Delacour, the plan to call for troops to Britain is being kept hush-hush for now. If Voldemort's camp catch wind, they might try to put a stop to it."

Dale blanched at this. Harry knew from Daphne just how averse the Greengrass family was to taking a hard-line stance on difficult issues like this one. He admired Dale for taking that risk and siding with James, despite the consequences it might have on his political career and his family's future.

"I'll accompany you to the meeting in June," said James. "Every nation's representative can bring one additional speaker to propose national issues. Hopefully with my high standing in the Ministry, I'll be able to sway some people."

"If you still have high standing in the Ministry by then," Remus pointed out grimly.

"Yes, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," James shrugged. Lily looked quite worried by her husband's blasé attitude – Harry knew his father's true feelings on the matter, but said nothing.

"I actually have some news about Lord Selwyn to report," Sirius spoke up. "I was able to pull some documents relating to a business he owns that the Black family has a minority stake in. He's been embezzling money and drawing it to an unnamed account."

"We suspect Malfoy is behind it," added Andromeda. "The same thing happened to a small business my sister Cissy was gifted by our grandfather on her seventeenth birthday – as soon as her marriage to Lucius was finalized, its assets were drained until it eventually declared bankruptcy."

"Probably funding Voldemort's war efforts," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"Is that legal?" James frowned. "Is it something we can use against him?"

"If the DMLE bothered to look into it, maybe," Sirius shrugged. "But the business will be drained by the time they opened an investigation. I could slow it down by filing an injunction with Gringotts as a minority owner."

"Do it," James nodded. "Anything we can do to slow them down is worth giving a shot. They already know you're not on their side anyway, so there's little political risk there."

"Damn straight," Sirius smirked, before waggling his eyebrows at Amelia. "Lia here has been a godsend with helping us file the proper paperwork. She always was the most studious of us all."

"As if I have anything better to do," Amelia scoffed, rolling her eyes, but Harry noted that she did flush slightly at Sirius' flirtatious remarks.

"Remus, were you able to attend last night's Order of the Phoenix meeting?" asked James.

"I was," Remus nodded. "Dumbledore's given up completely on the guard rotation at the Department of Mysteries. Nobody else has been keen to sign up after what happened to you."

"Good," said James. "No one else needs to be hurt unnecessarily. Any other updates we should be aware of?"

"Only small tidbits," said Remus. "Snape reported that the Dark Lord has been recruiting dark creatures like vampires and werewolves to the cause – and giants, of course, which we already knew from Hagrid."

"I thought we had the werewolves on our side?" James frowned, turning to Lily.

"We have a steady stream of daily patients coming in for the treatment," Lily responded. "The initial focus was on women and children, of course. But now that we've begun accepting adult males, the sign-ups are starting to slow."

"Why do you think that is, Moony?" asked James.

"I can only guess," Remus shrugged. "I'm no longer welcome in the usual enclaves to ask around. But distrust of the Ministry runs deep in those circles, and some have been outsiders for so long that they may have difficulty accepting offers of help. They've flocked towards sycophants like Fenrir Greyback for support – men who are more focused on inflicting their pain and suffering upon others than solving their own problems."

"But that makes no sense!" Harry protested. "The potion could cure them all! Why would they knowingly choose to remain monsters?"

"Because they've been monsters for so long that they begin to see themselves as such," Remus said sadly. "Their moral compasses have been so skewed that they no longer see what they're doing as wrong. They don't want to be cured, because that would force them to confront the bad things they did on the full moon under the guise of their condition."

"But they had no choice!" Lily protested. "Their condition did prevent them from seeing reason!"

"We're talking about men who knowingly traveled to Muggle villages to transform rather than lock themselves up for the safety of others," said Remus. "They embrace their urges rather than fight against them. What we're doing is noble work, Lily, but some men can't be saved if they refuse to save themselves."

That was a sobering thought that left a lingering silence hanging over the table. In that moment, Harry decided that he no longer held sympathy for the remaining werewolves of Britain – if he ever came across one in the future, he would know that they deliberately chose to forego the cure, and would feel no qualms about taking them down to protect others.

"Well," said James, clearing his throat, "do what you can to sway the rest, at any rate. Anything else we should know from the Order meeting?"

"Just one curious thing," said Remus. "Snape reported that Pettigrew has been out on assignment for months. No one knows what he's up to, but he's apparently on some quest that only he and the Dark Lord know about."

"Neville mentioned something about that last year," Harry piped up. "He had a vision where Voldemort told him to look for something."

"Like what?" James frowned.

"No clue," Harry shrugged. "I can ask him, but I don't think he knows any more than we do."

"Strange," James muttered. "There haven't been any sightings reported in the past year. Whatever he's looking for, he's covering his tracks well and staying well-hidden."

Harry lamented the fact that his prior knowledge was no help in this situation. For all he knew, Peter had been searching for this mysterious 'thing' in the past timeline too, but he didn't live long enough to find out what it was. He would have to continue pondering what that might be in his free time.

The meeting adjourned soon after, and the group chatted idly for a bit before dispersing. Harry noted with some jealousy that the other adults were all off to continue their own contributions to the war effort, while he was expected to return to Hogwarts like a good boy and wait his turn to be of service.

What they didn't know, however, was that he had plans of his own before going back to school. In a few short days, he would meet with Bill Weasley and Saul Croaker in Little Hangleton to explore the Gaunt shack. And if they managed to find what he suspected was hidden within, they might just contribute more to the war effort than every member of both Orders combined.

Harry had scheduled their outing for Thursday afternoon, when he knew both James and Lily would be working and he could slip out of the house undetected. He also gifted his sister with an early birthday present: '1001 Magical Maladies and How to Cure Them', which was sure to keep Dahlia busy reading in her room when it came time to depart. Sure enough, the coast was clear when he slipped out into the back yard and past the fence line, traveling a safe distance away before Disapparating.

He appeared in a small alleyway in the south of town, framed on either side by dilapidated and abandoned houses. He knew the risk of being spotted was low, but he Disillusioned himself and crouched low anyway, in case any Muggles happened to be lurking nearby. He stealthily made his way down the lane towards the prearranged meeting place.

Harry sensed another nearby presence as he approached the deserted intersection. The magic was familiar to him, but he remained silent and invisible all the same, waiting and listening.

Soon, a disembodied voice whispered into the silence. "Name of the man whose home we are here to see?" it asked.

"Tom Riddle," Harry whispered back. "Suspected contents of said home?"

"A golden cup," came the reply. Harry removed his disguises as Saul Croaker did the same, standing to greet him properly. "You're late."

"Just covering my tracks," Harry shrugged. "You're early. Didn't have anything better to do today?"

"Better than hunting soul fragments of a lunatic Dark Lord? Not really," Saul smirked. "Took a sick day. This sure beats devising ways to protect my Department from a Death Eater incursion."

"Making much progress?" Harry asked curiously.

"I was, until last month," Saul said grimly. "The Azkaban break-out certainly changes things."

"How so?"

"Augustus Rookwood," Saul muttered. "He was my boss before he got caught working for the Dark Lord during the first war. He'll know all about the Department's native defenses, and he's sure to tell his boss all about them now that he's free. I've had to tear them all down and start over from scratch, so he can't easily disable them."

"I see," Harry muttered. "And do you think you'll succeed?"

"Any defenses I put up will only slow an intruder down, not stop them completely," Saul shrugged. "I have to avoid any lethal means of deterrence, given the odds that a certain underage wizard might decide to waltz in uninvited."

"I've told Neville to stay away, that it's a trap," Harry reassured him. "But I guess it's for the best, just in case."

"Either way, there are some nasty surprises waiting for anyone who tries to break in," Saul grinned evilly. "I almost invite them to try, just so I can review the security footage afterwards and have a good laugh. Now, where the hell is Weasley?"

They milled around waiting for Bill for another fifteen minutes. Finally, Harry sensed him coming down the lane, spotting the shimmer in the air that gave away his imperfect Disillusionment Charm. Not taking any chances, he fired a Freezing Charm at the man, approaching with his wand drawn as the illusion lifted and Bill appeared, frozen in place.

"Which bedroom did I sleep in, the night before the Quidditch World Cup final?" Harry asked.

"Mine," Bill mumbled from between frozen lips. Harry released him, Saul reaching out to catch the gangling man before he could stumble to the ground.

"Took you long enough," Saul reprimanded him. "Got better things to do today?"

"Wasn't as easy to skive off of work as I thought," Bill admitted sheepishly. "Had to make up some excuses on the fly."

"Your improv skills need work, then, if this is going to continue," Saul scoffed. "Shall we get to it, then?"

"Hang on," Harry muttered. Something was not right. He couldn't quite place the feeling, but something felt off about the magic in the air. Had they gotten too close already? Had they tripped an enchantment by accident?

Harry felt a foreign presence in the air – a familiar presence. "Someone's here," he muttered drawing his wand. He had a very bad feeling about this...had Voldemort discovered their plans? Had he set someone to hide nearby and watch the area? Was all their hard work about to come crashing down?

Harry's wand flashed as though on instinct, casting a Stunning Charm down the road. It collided with something invisible, which dropped heavily to the ground. Harry had a strange sense of deja vu as he cautiously approached, heart hammering in his chest. That sense only amplified when he canceled the Disillusionment Charm, revealing the figure that had been stalking them.

"Bloody hell," Bill groaned. "What's she doing here?"

Fleur Delacour was sprawled unconscious on the ground at Harry's feet. He dropped to one knee and tapped his wand to her chest, muttering, "Ennervate."

Fleur's eyes snapped open, and when she saw Harry's wand pointed in her face, she sighed. "Merde," she groaned. "We really must stop meeting like this, 'Arry."

"What was the answer to the sphinx's riddle in the maze during the Third Task?" Harry demanded, not taking any chances.

"Er...what…?" Fleur stammered.

"Answer, Fleur," Harry growled. "So I know it's you."

"Eet was…" Fleur said, wracking her brain. "Something about fire...a Victoire de Cadmus, as we French call it…"

"Close enough," Harry muttered, extending his hand. Fleur took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. "Why the hell are you following us?"

"And how the hell are you following us?" Bill demanded. "I covered my tracks exceptionally well, and I assume these two did also."

Fleur looked supremely guilty as the other three scrutinized her. "Eet is embarrassing," she muttered. "I thought per'aps that Bill was cheating on me. 'E was being quite secretive and evasive, you see. So I placed a Tracking Charm on his jacket—"

"You what?" Bill said, astonished, taking off the Muggle jacket he'd been wearing. Harry squinted at the garment; sure enough, he detected a faint shimmer of magic within the leather, almost imperceptible to the senses.

"I am sorry," Fleur grimaced. "But you 'ave been acting quite suspicious lately. And what are you doing with 'Arry and zis man? Isn't 'Arry supposed to be in school still?"

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we are acquainted," said Saul, looking puzzled by the whole interaction. "You are…?"

"This is Fleur Delacour," Bill sighed. "My...co-worker at Gringotts."

"Pah!" Fleur spat. "You are still too afraid to call me your girlfriend? 'Ow many times must we 'ave this talk? 'Ow many times must I spend ze night at your flat before you acknowledge—"

"Now is not the time for this," Harry groaned, not wishing to hash out the details of Bill and Fleur's relationship at this moment. "And keep your voice down, Fleur. We don't want anyone to know we're here."

"Why not?" Fleur demanded loudly, putting her hands on her hips as she glared at Harry. "What 'ave you gotten my William into?"

"It's...complicated," Harry muttered.

"Eez it?" Fleur scoffed, rounding on Bill. "Tell me what eez happening, Bill, or we're done. I will never see you again!"

Bill opened and closed his mouth in shock. He cast a furtive glance at Saul and Harry before sighing, "Fleur...I can't."

"Pah! Men," Fleur groaned, turning on the spot to stalk back down the road.

"Hang on, Fleur," Harry called after her. "He actually can't tell. I made him swear an Unbreakable Vow."

Fleur narrowed her eyes at this. "But why?" she asked.

"This is a very sensitive mission we're on," said Harry cautiously. He kept his wand held loosely at his side, realizing he may need to Obliviate Fleur if she wasn't willing to cooperate. "It's crucial to the war effort. We can't let anybody know we're here."

Fleur's anger was beginning to give way to genuine curiosity, though she kept a scowl on her features to maintain appearances. "What eez this mission, then?" she demanded.

"We can't tell you that," Bill sighed. "It's too important to the war to risk it getting out."

"You do not trust me?" said Fleur, raising her eyebrows. "And you, 'Arry? After all we went through last year?"

She did have a point. Harry trusted Fleur, not only because of their history in the Triwizard Tournament, but because she seemed genuinely devoted to the cause against Voldemort. Her father was certainly a staunch advocate in their favor, and she seemed to have inherited his stubborn resolve and strong moral compass. What was the harm in letting one more trustworthy person into their circle?

"I think we should tell her," Harry decided.

"Are you quite certain?" asked Saul nervously. "Her father is well-connected in France, and if word of this gets out—"

"I am not my father," Fleur said firmly. "And I can keep a secret. I would not dare betray ze person who saved my life twice."

"She'll have to swear an Unbreakable Vow—" Bill muttered.

"I don't think so," Harry said. "She technically owes me a life debt, so that basically functions as a vow already. She'll understand how important it is to keep this quiet. I trust her."

Saul and Bill looked between Harry and Fleur uncertainly. Fleur had eyes only for Harry, clearly burning with a desire to know what he was up to...a desire she'd had since the previous school year.

"If you trust her, that's good enough for me," Saul sighed.

"I suppose so," Bill shrugged.

"Well, then?" Fleur asked, crossing her arms expectantly at Harry while giving him a small smile. "Out with it, voyageur."

Harry chuckled at the nickname – a reminder that she had guessed at the truth already. "You were right, Fleur," he sighed. "I am a time-traveler."

Fleur briefly registered surprise at the revelation, then she laughed. "Eet was quite obvious," she said triumphantly. "But 'ow?"

"That's a story for another day," said Harry, glancing at the sky. The afternoon was drawing long, and he wanted to complete their mission before nightfall. "The important thing is that I've been opposing Voldemort's return since I arrived in this timeline. And we recently discovered how he made himself immortal."

"How?" she asked.

Harry looked to Bill, giving him a nod of approval to share what he knew. "Horcruxes," Bill said in an undertone. "You remember when I taught you about them a few weeks back in training?"

"Yes," Fleur said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Filthy, 'orrible things. You mean to say zis Dark Lord 'as made one?"

"He's made six," Harry said grimly. "We've already found one, and we think we know where another one is. That's what we're here to do today."

Fleur lost what little color she had in her face at this revelation. "Merde," she breathed. "And you advised me to become a curse-breaker...did you know about zis back then?"

"Yes," Harry sighed. "The entire war might come down to our ability to break into Voldemort's hiding places and destroy his horcruxes. And we have to do it discreetly, because if he finds out what we're up to, he'll relocate them all and we will never be able to kill him."

Fleur stared at him with blank shock for a moment. Then, she gave an incredulous chuckle.

"And to theenk," Fleur said with a faint smile, "that I called you a leetle boy in our first meeting. You 'ave the weight of several grown men on your shoulders."

"Technically, I am older than you," Harry shrugged with a sheepish smile. "By a couple of years, but still."

"This is all very adorable and all," Saul said exasperatedly, "but we have important business to attend to. Will Miss Delacour be accompanying us on our mission?"

"She will be," Fleur answered before Bill or Harry could for her. Bill looked anxious about this, but he eventually sighed and nodded.

"Let's get going, then," said Harry. He led the way down the dirt path, past all the dilapidated and abandoned homes along the road. All four kept their wands out, scanning the area for any intruders, on high alert despite the quiet and serene environment.

Slowly, Harry began to feel that sense of pervading dread, that overwhelming desire to run that had overcome him the last time. "What eez that?" Fleur muttered, looking quite disturbed by the unpleasant magic washing over them.

"We're getting close," Harry muttered. They rounded a bend, and there it was: the rundown shack that had once been the Gaunt family home. It looked just as innocent and unassuming as before, but that feeling of evil persisted, radiating from the broken building like a tsunami of negative energy.

"Doesn't look like much," Bill muttered as they stood at the threshold of the property. "The same Repelling Hex is present here as in the cave. I suspect it should pass once we get closer to the building itself."

"Bill, wait, don't—!" Harry protested, but it was too late; Bill had stepped forward and placed a foot on the grass inside the open gate. At once, the front door of the shack slammed open, and the same cascade of snakes spilled out, writhing and hissing as they poured across the lawn towards them.

Fleur, Harry and Saul instinctively leapt back in alarm, but Bill stood his ground. He twirled his wand, and a shimmering blue barrier appeared before him, preventing the snakes from approaching any closer. However, it appeared to cost him much energy to do so, as the man panted and grunted against the wave of serpents threatening to overtake him.

"Come on, you three, and help me!" he barked over his shoulder. "Finite Incantatem, quickly!"

Fleur was the first to respond, immediately jumping forward to assist her man. Her blue barrier expanded and merged with Bill's, strengthening the resistance against the serpents. Harry and Saul quickly joined them, their own barriers raising up to defend them.

"Forward, now," Bill muttered, taking a tentative step forward onto the property again. The barrier moved forward with him, pushing the snakes back, inch by inch. The other three cautiously kept in step with Bill, as the snakes were gradually repelled backwards towards the front door from which they'd come. Once they crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut once more, and the blue barrier fell, leaving all four panting from the effort of maintaining it.

"Thanks," Bill huffed, bending over to catch his breath. "That illusion must have been created by You-Know-Who himself. In order to dispel an enchantment, it requires equal magical power to its creator."

Gilbert's Second Principle of Defense, Harry thought bemusedly. It would appear that Percy Weasley had managed to teach him something useful after all.

"They won't come back again?" Fleur asked, eyeing the front door warily as though the snakes were about to come spilling out anew.

"No, we've neutralized the enchantment," Bill replied. "It shouldn't re-activate until we've left the property."

"Shouldn't we end the enchantment completely, in case we need to come back?" Harry wondered aloud.

"I don't think that would be wise," said Bill. "If You-Know-Who comes back to check on his defenses, we don't want him to think anything is amiss."

"But he will realize something is amiss if the thing he's guarding is missing," Harry pointed out.

"If he gets that far, sure," Bill shrugged. "But if he arrives to find that his defenses are all intact, he may see no reason to go inside and check on the thing itself."

Harry supposed that stood to reason. If his school trunk was locked, for instance, he would have no reason to believe anything had been stolen from within. "Very well, then," he sighed. "Is it safe to continue?"

Bill waved his wand over the door frame, analyzing the magical feedback he received. "The snake illusion is tied to the door," he deduced. "We should find another way in."

"The south wall looked caved in," Saul offered. "Maybe we can slip through without opening any doors or windows."

"Worth a shot," Bill shrugged.

They cautiously made their way through the overgrown garden to the south side, which was partially obscured in darkness by the treeline. Bill lit his wand tip and aimed it at the side of the building, which indeed was partially collapsed, giving a glimpse into the darkened interior of the home.

"I don't sense any enchantments around the wall itself," said Bill, analyzing the wreckage. "We should be able to squeeze through one at a time."

"I'll go first," Harry offered. "I got us into this mess, after all."

"Fine, but when you enter, do not touch anything!" Bill warned him in a dire tone. Harry nodded, and dropped to his hands and knees before the exposed segment of wall. He carefully wriggled through the opening, emerging in a dank and dusty space. He stood upright and lit his wand, finding himself in what must have once been a bedroom. Aside from a ratty and molding mattress in the corner, there was no hint a human had ever lived here.

The other three followed behind him, examining the grungy space as they stood upright beside Harry. "Whoever lived 'ere did not 'ave a happy upbringing," Fleur said at once.

"That would be Voldemort's mother," Harry said grimly. "And the apple didn't fall far from the tree. Shall we?"

Bill took the lead, cautiously leading them out into the hall. Another bedroom lay beside the first, but Bill quickly dismissed it, not sensing any kind of protective enchantments worth worrying about. He led the way out into the main living area, where they paused, taking in the dark and eerie silence.

"How do we find what we're looking for?" Saul wondered aloud. "We don't even know what it looks like."

"Accio horcrux," Harry tried. Nothing happened. "Accio hidden object!"

"Figures," Bill muttered. "You-Know-Who wouldn't make it that simple. We should spread out and scan the place bit by bit. But remember, don't touch anything!"

Each of them moved to a separate part of the room, silently waving their wands and muttering whispered incantations under their breath. Bill and Fleur were the most decisive, being trained in curse-breaking and knowing how to recognize foreign magic more easily. Harry and Saul were more out of their element – cautiously examining each brick, each plank of wood, unsure what to look for.

Harry simply alternated between Revelio and Finite in the hopes of unearthing some enchantment hiding anything from view. He knew he ought to have spent more time studying curse-breaking in the library! He silently stewed on this short-sightedness as the other three went about their business. The only sounds in the darkened space were the creaking of floorboards and hushed mutterings of spells under the casters' breath…

Harry paused. He lifted his foot and lowered it again, frowning. The floorboard he was standing on was making no noise. He tested the ones on either side of it; they groaned loudly in protest from his weight. But the one directly beneath him was silent, standing perfectly and innocently in place. Almost suspiciously so...as though attempting to evade notice…

"Here," Harry muttered, getting the others' attention. He squatted over the offending floorboard, prodding it silently with his toe. He aimed his wand at it and yanked out its nails, freeing the board from its moorings and levitating it aside. He aimed his lit wand tip into the darkened space beneath, as the other three huddled over his shoulder and peered within.

There was a small wooden box hidden beneath the floorboard. Harry pointed his wand at it and slowly levitated it out of its hole, a thin layer of dirt cascading off the box as he did so. He set it gently on the floor and examined it. The box appeared benign enough, but he could sense an evil energy from within – the same energy he'd felt when Kreacher showed him the locket.

"Careful, now," Bill said cautiously as Harry directed his wand toward the lid of the box. He slid it aside with delicate care, revealing a tiny object inside. It appeared to be an ugly gold ring, set within a large, polished black stone. There was a tiny triangular carving in the stone, looking almost like an eye. Harry frowned at it...something about it was familiar to him, but he couldn't imagine why…

"Blimey," Saul breathed as he knelt beside the box. "Is that what I think it is…?"

It happened in an instant. Harry felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to touch the ring, to pick it up and place it on his finger. Saul must have felt the same, for he reached out to pick it up, his arm jerking forward as though compelled by some outside force—

There was a loud bang, and both Harry and Saul were thrust backwards, landing in a heap on the dusty floor across the room.

"No!" Bill exclaimed, wand drawn, as he pulled Fleur behind him. "There is a strong Compulsion Charm on the ring! It is likely cursed...one moment, while I attempt to disentangle it."

Bill began to wave his wand over the box, muttering under his breath. Harry crept forward on his hands and knees to observe. He still felt the powerful tug from within the box, but he Occluded it away, tamping down on the instinct. It gradually lessened until Harry no longer felt a primal urge to lunge forward and claim the ring obsessively for himself.

"Nasty piece of work," Bill muttered, as he bent down and picked up the ring for himself. "There was a Rotting Curse on it that would no doubt have killed the person who touched it within the hour. Someone obviously didn't want this to be found."

"But it eez safe now?" asked Fleur.

"To touch, yes," said Bill grimly, as he held the small golden ring in his open palm. "However, I still sense a dark energy coming from it, and I wouldn't recommend close contact for long. It is undoubtedly a horcrux." And Bill gently placed the ring back within its box.

"Should we take it back to Saul's office?" asked Harry. "We still have basilisk venom left over to destroy it."

"Yes, we should," Bill nodded. "But first, we should make a replica of the box and ring."

"How come?" Harry frowned.

"In case You-Know-Who comes looking for it," Bill frowned. "On the off-chance he does come to check on the ring, we'll want a copy of it hidden there, so he won't know the original is missing."

"Will he truly be fooled by a copy?" Fleur wondered.

"Not if he looks closely enough," Bill muttered. "But Compulsion Charms work against the caster as well, and he'll likely not wish to risk subjecting himself to a Rotting Curse if he gets too close. Hopefully he'll just examine the box and ring from afar and assume everything is as it seems."

Bill twirled his wand once more, and a perfect copy of the box appeared beside the first. Harry peered inside; the same gold ring and black stone were sitting there, but with minor imperfections. The triangular pattern on the stone didn't look quite the same as the original, nor did the gold ring shimmer with the same intensity.

"Stand back," Bill warned. Harry obliged as Bill applied the same enchantments to the ring as before. He briefly felt another urge to lunge into the box and grab the ring, before Bill slammed the lid of the box shut and thrust it back under the floorboards. A moment later, the wooden board was back in place over the top, and it was as though nothing had happened.

"We should go, now," said Bill, grabbing the original box and looking to Saul. "Is there a discreet method of entering your office at the Ministry, Mr. Croaker?"

"I have a Portkey that can take us there," Saul nodded. He reached into his robes and withdrew a small silver chain. He held it out, and Bill, Fleur and Harry each lightly grasped it with a finger apiece. Harry noticed that a small locket sat at the end of the chain, shaped like a heart and engraved with the letters A.C. He wondered if it had to do with Saul's wife...he'd never asked much about the man's family situation before…

But as he pondered this question, he felt the familiar jerk behind the naval as the Portkey activated and whisked them away. Moments later, they touched down in the hidden chamber within Saul's office in the Ministry.

"I'm afraid we're running low on basilisk venom," said Saul as he approached a cabinet on the wall. "We may need to use the rest of this vial and find another source for the next one."

"Fine," Harry shrugged. He didn't relish in the idea of stealing from his mother's and Remus' stores again, but if it meant winning the war in the process, he would do what he had to do.

Saul procured the small vial, with only about a quarter of its venom remaining, and approached the table at the center of the room. Bill placed the wooden box atop it and removed the lid, exposing the ring to the room.

"Stand back, Fleur," Bill warned as he backed towards the wall. "We don't know what kind of fight this thing will give when we try to destroy it." Fleur looked apprehensive by this warning, taking Bill's hand and joining him in the far corner of the room.

Harry's curiosity got the better of him, inching towards the box along with Saul as the older man carefully uncorked the vial. They stood over the box, peering at the ring, which appeared rather benign and harmless just laying there.

Saul appeared to hesitate a moment as he held the vial over the box. Harry glanced at the man; he saw what looked to be regret in his eyes as he contemplated his action. "Nothing to be done for it, I'm afraid," Saul muttered to himself. And before Harry could ask what he meant by that, he tipped the vial over and poured the remainder of the basilisk venom into the box.

They watched together as the putrid green liquid bubbled over the surface of the ring. Harry expected another violent reaction, wand poised to cast a Cushioning Charm in case he was launched backwards against the wall again. Instead, the ring merely began to utter an inhuman scream as the gold corroded and broke down, splintering and crumbling beneath the destructive venom. Then, in a flash, it broke fully apart, as a black shade erupted from the box and disappeared upwards through the ceiling, the soul fragment dissolving into mist as though it had never existed.

"That wasn't so bad," Harry muttered, twirling his wand to Vanish the remains of the venom. It occurred to him that perhaps the ring Horcrux had been created earlier in Voldemort's life, when he had less skill to construct defenses within it. Either way, he wouldn't complain about an easier task in destroying it.

"Well, that's four down," said Saul matter-of-factly, turning to the whiteboard on the wall. With a flick of his wand, the writing from their previous meeting returned, outlining their progress with the Horcruxes. "That's the diary, locket, and ring destroyed, plus the diadem we know has been reincorporated. That leaves Hufflepuff's Cup and the snake as the most likely candidates for the remaining two."

"What about the Sword of Gryffindor?" Bill asked, frowning at the final item listed on the board with a question mark beside it.

"No chance," Harry said firmly. "He can't have gotten to it. Besides, now we know that the ring was the sixth, right? He wouldn't need to go after the Sword."

"But things are different in this timeline than your last," Saul pointed out. "We should continue to think of it as a possibility. If we're lucky, maybe we will stumble across it before the Dark Lord does and we can verify its status."

"What eez that?" Fleur muttered. She was not paying attention to the whiteboard, but to the wooden box on the table, which she was standing over. The other three joined her, peering down into it with her. The base of the box was slightly corroded from the venom, but still sitting in the center, totally untouched, was the black stone that had been inset into the ring.

"That's odd," Bill muttered. He pointed his wand at the stone and levitated it into the air, casting a Cleaning Charm on it for good measure. It did not look one bit damaged by the venom it had been soaked in; even the triangular pattern on its face was unchanged.

"It cannot be," breathed Saul. "I had my suspicions, but I just assumed...it had to be a myth…"

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded. Bill and Fleur looked similarly confused.

"What do you three know of the Deathly Hallows?" asked Saul.

"From the fairy tale?" Bill scoffed. "A fable designed for children, is it not?"

"I thought the same," said Saul. "And yet, the evidence to the contrary is here before us."

"You think this is the Resurrection Stone?" Bill laughed. "Be serious, Croaker."

"What eez he talking about, Bill?" Fleur frowned.

Bill sighed. "The Deathly Hallows," he sighed, "comes from a fairy tale told to wizarding children in Britain. It tells of three brothers who made a bargain with Death and received three of his items as a reward. The Elder Wand, an unbeatable wand; the Resurrection Stone, which could recall the dead; and the Invisibility Cloak, which could hide the wearer from even Death himself."

"We do not 'ave such stories in France," Fleur muttered.

"I've never heard of it either," Harry shrugged. "I was raised by Muggles."

"Maybe your parents read it to you before you arrived in this timeline," Bill pointed out. "But it doesn't matter – it's just a story."

"Is it?" Saul pressed. "Tales of the unbeatable wand have traveled across the continent for centuries. Some even believed Grindelwald had it during his reign of terror. And here we have a seemingly indestructible stone, bearing the insignia of the Hallows. And then there's Potter's cloak."

"My father's?" Harry frowned. "What does it have to do with anything?"

"You never wondered why Dumbledore 'borrowed' it, all those years ago?" Saul demanded. "Invisibility cloaks don't typically last longer than five to ten years – certainly not centuries, as your family's cloak has. I did some research when you brought it up, and the Potters are indeed distantly related to the Peverells, so you may have inherited it directly from the third brother of the tale."

Harry opened his mouth to refute such a ridiculous notion. Then he closed it. "Peverell?" he repeated. "I recognize that name...wait, yeah, that's the bloke who's buried at Godric's Hollow! And he has that symbol on his grave!" He pointed at the black stone excitedly, at the triangular pattern engraved upon it. He'd seen it a couple summers ago, at the Godric's Hollow cemetery, when James took him and Dahlia to visit his parents' grave.

"The wand, the stone, and the cloak," said Saul, tracing the outlines of the symbol in the air for them to see. "When united, it is said that the three make the user Master of Death."

"I don't buy it," Bill grumbled. "There's no such thing as an impenetrable cloak, or a stone to bring back the dead."

But Harry was starting to see the vision. His Invisibility Cloak was impenetrable, even after all those years. And who's to say a stone couldn't call upon the dead, when Harry had spoken to Death himself not far from here, just beyond the Veil, and lived to tell the tale?

"We don't have to figure this out now," said Saul, glancing at the clock on the wall. "It's past five...we'd best head out before anyone starts asking questions."

"Should we leave this stone here for safe-keeping?" asked Bill.

Saul considered this. "Maybe it's best we don't," he offered. "Fudge is still looking for reasons to have me canned for being associated with you. Besides, if you really expect a bunch of Death Eaters to come storming in here and ransacking the place…"

Harry blanched; he hadn't considered this. Perhaps storing Voldemort's Horcruxes here hadn't been such a wise idea either, what with his henchmen sniffing around constantly.

He looked expectantly towards Bill, who looked alarmed by the prospect of taking the stone for himself. "You're the Peverell, mate, not me," he chuckled, throwing up his hands in refusal.

Fleur, Bill and Saul looked on curiously as Harry reached out to pluck the tiny stone out of midair. He clutched it in his palm, marveling at how cool to the touch it was. It sent shivers down his spine – a familiar shiver, not too unlike the sensation he'd felt when taking the Cloak back from Neville in his first year. At the time he'd chalked it up to excitement at being reunited with a beloved heirloom...now he wondered if perhaps there was indeed a link between the objects.

Harry pocketed the stone before making his way out of the Ministry. He took the visitor's exit to the streets of London before Apparating back to Godric's Hollow, just down the street from his home. Unfortunately, he did not return unnoticed.

"Where have you been?" Lily demanded when he slipped in through the back door. "You were supposed to stay here and watch your sister!"

"Sorry; just went for a walk," Harry shrugged. He earned a dressing-down for this nonchalant response and was grounded for the remainder of the break, but Lily allowed him to head up to his room without further questioning.

That night, Harry examined the tiny stone in his palm, wondering how it might work. He was afraid to experiment with it now, lest he accidentally summon an army of the dead to sleepy Godric's Hollow and cause a panic. Besides, he didn't know who he would want to summon...Quirrell, perhaps, to apologize? Slughorn, to learn more about Tom Riddle? The thought of conversing with the dead at all made his stomach turn, so he stowed the stone away safely in his trunk for another day.

Regardless, it was something he needed to learn more about, and fast. Whatever these 'Deathly Hallows' were, Dumbledore clearly knew about them and had more than just a passing interest in them. Suddenly Harry had another secret to keep from the Headmaster, and his instincts told him this one was even more important to keep to himself than all the rest.