Harry and Ron woke up the next morning to find a pile of freshly laundered clothes at the foot of each of their beds. They packed them in their trunks and went downstairs to have some breakfast. There, Hermione met them and she was also ready to go.
“Well, the month is up,” said Ron sadly as he sat down next to Harry.
“It has to be today, or we’ll never leave,” Harry said.
Mrs. Weasley brought over a large plate of eggs and put it down in front of them. “So you will be going to Grimmauld Place?”
“Yes,” Harry said, piling eggs onto his plate. “After that, we’re stopping by Godric’s Hollow.”
“Make sure you come by at least once a month and for the holidays.”
“That’ll be okay,” Hermione said. “Will it, Harry?”
“Sure.” He smiled at the prospect of taking time off from his search, though he doubted it would be possible.
“Marvelous,” said Mr. Weasley as he entered the kitchen. “I’m off to work,” he said, shaking their hands and gripping Harry on the shoulder. “Now be careful”all of you!” He kissed Mrs. Weasley on the cheek, left through the door, and disappeared in the distance.
“Hey,” greeted Ginny when she sat down at the table.
“What took you?” asked Hermione. “You were awake by the time I left the room.”
“Still tired,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling weakly.
After finishing breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went upstairs and levitated down the trunks and cages. Once they got outside, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny hugged each of the three.
“Now take care and don’t get into too much trouble,” said Mrs. Weasley as she hugged Ron.
“We won’t,” Ron lied.
“Expect me to join in a year and a bit,” whispered Ginny as she hugged Harry.
“I will,” said Harry, hugging her back.
He almost had to pry himself away from her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione then made their way down the lawn. Thinking about Grimmauld Place, they Apparated to the same spot Mr. Weasley had. After the pressure subsided, they found themselves outside the dirty and unkempt house. They made their way down the walkway to the door with the serpent-shaped knocker. As Harry went for the doorknob, the door clicked and opened without it being touched.
“You are the owner now, Harry,” explained Hermione.
“I know,” Harry said, a little frustrated by being told the obvious.
“Well,” said Ron quietly, while going in, “it’s not as dirty as when I first came here, but it could still use a good cleaning.”
“I agree,” said Hermione. “We should do that if we’re going to live here for a while.”
“All right,” said Harry, “we’ll make this place inhabitable today and make for Godric’s Hollow tomorrow. I’ll take Fred and George’s room. You two can sleep where ever you want.”
They quietly passed the portrait of Mrs. Black and went up the stairs. Harry was left alone once he got to his room. He put his trunk in front of one of the beds and put Hedwig on top of the dresser.
“I’ll let you out later,” Harry told Hedwig, giving her an owl treat from the trunk.
Before Harry left the room, he heard a muffled voice coming through the door: “That bratty, little master, bringing his nasty friends into this house again. Oh, how my old mistress would weep. If only I was miss Bellatrix’s elf, everything would be so much better.”
Harry opened the door and Kreacher bowed low when he saw him. “What are you up to?” Harry asked, not really caring.
“Kreacher was only going through the home that he has known all his life. Is that forbidden?” The elf was staring angrily at the floor. “Good master, bringing back the Mudblood and traitor.”
“Stay out of my sight unless I call you,” Harry commanded, looking at Kreacher with spite. “But stay in the house.” Harry left without another word.
He met up with Ron and Hermione in the kitchen and it seemed that they also ran in with Kreacher.
“I swear, I can’t stand that lunatic elf,” said Ron, ignoring Hermione’s disapproving grunt. “Just comes into my room and starts to insult me under his breath. Thinks I can’t hear him.”
“That is not fair, Ron,” argued Hermione. “Kreacher has had a horrible life and has been influenced by his old owners.”
“Yeah, but the thing is that they are dead and he now belongs to Harry. Yet, the nutter still talks about them as if they were the most noble people to walk the Earth.”
“Well, he still feels a connection to them. I bet Dobby hasn’t gotten used to insulting the Malfoys without having to punish himself.” She turned to Harry. “Kreacher might speak badly about his old masters if you set him free.” Hermione gave Harry the same hopeful look she once gave Sirius.
But that only pained and angered Harry. “No way, Hermione. Kreacher might still know too much about the Order. He could still betray us.”
“Can’t betray someone if you were never on their side,” muttered Ron.
“Well, I don’t believe that there isn’t any good in Kreacher,” defended Hermione. “Just treat him better, Harry. He might still come around.”
“I doubt I’ll be doing that anytime soon,” responded Harry. “Look, we still have the whole day ahead of us. Why don’t we do what you said, and clean the place a bit.”
“I hope the rodent doesn’t get in the way again,” said Ron, getting up from his chair. Hermione once again backfired. She and Ron started to argue again.
Harry sent them to different sections of the house, and he went to his own room to start the clean up. After letting Hedwig out, Harry didn’t feel like being thorough and simply blasted the dust with air shooting from his wand and opened a window. He discovered a mold that was growing behind his bed and decided to blast it away. But that only sent pieces of it everywhere and made the job of getting rid of it more tedious.
After finishing, Harry went downstairs to help Ron out with his room. It was not as bad as Harry’s, but there was a strange buzzing sound coming from the curtains. They decided to leave that alone and Harry suggested that Ron should try and find a new room.
“Remind me again why we’re back here,” Ron asked Harry tiredly.
“Because,” Harry said, just as tired, “we have no place else to go. Besides, this place can still only be found by the people Dumbledore shared the secret with.”
“Including Snape,” Ron added.
Harry shrugged. “Yes, but Snape will have to come alone. I’m sure the three of us can take him. It’s not like we’re going to hold back.”
“But even that might not be enough!”
Harry ignored that comment. If Snape was foolish enough to come, it’ll be his funeral. As if I’ll leave the body to have a proper burial, he thought spitefully.
Finally, Harry and Ron met up with Hermione in the drawing room. There wasn’t any doxy infestation there, but a large, horned rat had to be forced from the back of the bookcase (Hermione decided to hold back and yell instructions). During the struggle, many books that survived the purge two years previously fell out.
“Afraid of rats, are you?” said Ron, who had the horned rat in a Leg-locker curse.
“No, just the ones that have more weapons than teeth.”
Harry, meanwhile, was putting all the books back on the shelf. There was one that made him scowl when he saw it: Necessary Purification by Means of the Dark Arts by Oscar Sangre. Still, curiosity got the best of him and he flicked it open to the inside cover. A note was written:
Dear son,
I hope this book will help you on your noble mission.
Yours lovingly,
Mother
Written beneath the letter at the very bottom was something else, but in very different handwriting: Lectun Repalo.
Shrugging his shoulders, Harry got another book from the bookcase and tossed it to the ground a few feet away and pointed his wand at it.
Hermione then noticed what he was doing. “Harry, what are”?”
“Lectun Repalo!” yelled Harry. He waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened.
“What was that all about?” asked Ron, coming to Harry’s side and looking at the book in his other hand and snatching it. “Necessary Purification by Means of the Dark Arts,” he read.
“That’s not what interests me,” said Harry, opening the cover. “That is.” He pointed to the incantation under the note.
Hermione came over too and read what was on it. “Are you crazy!” she exclaimed. “I thought you learned your lesson about performing spells without knowing what they do!”
“What’s the big deal?” said Ron. “It didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “Besides, I thought you always like to learn new things.”
“Not when they might be dangerous,” Hermione retorted. She then turned and stormed out of the room.
“So who’re these ‘son’ and ‘mother’ people?” asked Ron, turning his attention to the note above the spell.
“I guess it’s Sirius’s mum and brother. She must have gotten him this book after Regulus joined the Death Eaters. What else can the ‘noble mission’ be?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ron said slowly, comprehension dawning on him. “I forgot Sirius’s brother was a Death Eater. And this family would dark enough to support Voldemort.” He shivered slightly and added, “Except for Sirius, of course.”
“Yeah. You know, Regulus was killed after he joined Voldemort.”
“Really? Wonder why,” said Ron, looking at back at the note, as though hoping it would give him the answer.
“Who cares,” Harry said. “Let’s just finish up here.”
When they finished cleaning up the drawing room, they went down to the kitchen. There, Hermione was waiting and decided to forgive them, but still scorned them for forgetting one very important thing.
“Food!” she yelled. “Out of all the people in the world (especially you, Ron), I can’t believe that neither of you wondered what we are going to eat!”
“Well, excuse me for feeling too guilty about what we were doing to my mum to remember,” Ron retaliated.
“I have to agree with Hermione,” said Harry with an apologetic look to Ron. “The only other time your stomach was struck dumb was that stupid love potion.”
“Don’t remind me of that,” he asked, covering his face with his hands in shame.
“Do house-elves shop for groceries?” Hermione asked Ron. “I’m only asking, of course, because we can’t go outside.”
“Not very often,” answered Ron. “They might get their money stolen, or get ripped off by the clerks. Still, it might be worth a shot sending Kreacher to Diagon Alley or something.”
It was then that they heard two simultaneous sounds of Apparition and Disapparition, and then Mrs. Blacks ranting. “Desecraters of the house of my family, leave at once, or retribution will be swift!”
“What the bloody hell…? Harry said. They all took out their wands, and ran back upstairs. Aside, from the hallway being in total uproar, everything seemed fine. Who or what could have Appariated into Grimmauld Place? It was only after Harry and Ron closed Mrs. Black’s portrait, and Hermione stunned the rest, did they take notice of three sacks lying in the middle of the hallway.
Pinned to one of the sacks was a piece of parchment. Ron went over and read it. He smiled, and handed it to Harry and Hermione. Couldn’t let you three get hungry, it said. If Harry had any doubts of sender of these sacks were from, they were dashed when he opened them to find pies, cakes, and all sorts of food.
“Thanks, Mum,” Ron said gratefully, taking out one of the cakes.
“It was kind of your mother to send us all this, Ron,” Hermione commented a minute later back in the kitchen. “We have enough here for weeks.”
“Actually,” Harry cut in, “I think it was Mrs. Weasley who cooked, and Dobby who delivered.”
“What makes you say that?”
From on of the sacks, Harry withdrew three pairs of different colored socks. “Definitely from Dobby.”
“He has a point,” Ron said. “Mum wouldn’t allow those things to be sent to us.”
“Whatever,” Hermione said, “the point is that none of us, including Kreacher, doesn’t have to go to Diagon Alley.”
“As if we could trust that little git not to poison our food,” Ron alleged.
“He wouldn’t!” Hermione shouted. “Well…not if he was ordered not to.”
“Forget it!” Harry interrupted loudly, stopping another oncoming argument. “Now that we’re fed, the issue is tomorrow.”
“Do you think the Knight Bus is necessary?” Hermione asked.
“One more ride won’t kill us. Besides, do you know how to get to Godric’s Hollow?” Harry questioned.
“What are we going to do after that?” asked Ron, finally having eaten.
“After what?” Harry asked back.
“You know, after our visit to Godric’s Hollow. How are we going to find the Horcruxes? It’s been over a month since we properly talked about them.”
“We should start at the Muggle orphanage that Voldemort grew up in,” Harry said after thinking. “If we get lucky and find one, then we’ll be even more lucky if my next guess is right.”
“Brilliant, so if we do find a Horcrux, how are we going to destroy it?”
“I say blow it up into a million pieces,” suggested Harry.
“Then why didn’t Dumbledore do that to the ring?” asked Hermione. “It would seem much easier than carrying it around with him.”
Harry stopped in the middle of taking a bite. He realized how true Hermione was and wondered if blowing up a Horcrux would prove faulty. Would Harry have to give up his hand to destroy one as well? Would he have to give up four limbs?
While Harry was taking in all those thoughts, Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face.
“I think he’s in shock,” said Ron, concerned.
“Maybe,” said Hermione, now snapping her fingers.
“I’m not,” Harry answered, throwing his apple against the wall in frustration.
“So how are we to destroy one?” asked Hermione, ignoring the violent gesture. “Dumbledore surely must have told you how.”
“I haven’t the bloodiest clue,” he responded in a panicked tone.
“So just ask,” said Ron, as if it were obvious.
“And exactly who are we going to ask, Ron?” Harry retorted.
“Slughorn,” Ron said simply, taking another apple. “He was the one who told Voldemort about Horcruxes in the first place.”
“That’s true!” said an amazed Hermione. “Of course, we have to ask Slughorn.”
“I had to get him drunk to just to confirm Dumbledore’s theory!” Harry told them, looking at his two friends as if they were mad.
Ron looked away and exhaled sadly. “Dumbledore’s dead now. Slughorn has to cooperate.”
Harry stared down at the table, realizing that Ron had a point. “You’re right. He has to cooperate.” He looked back up. “After Godric’s Hollow, we’ll make for Hogwarts and ask McGonagall where Slughorn lives. I doubt she’ll just give us the information if we just write. Hagrid told me yesterday that she’s staying at the school and she must know where Slughorn lives.”
The rest of the day was spent in an uncertain peace. After cleaning up as much as they could stand, Harry spent most of his time trying to get the spell to work, while Ron continued to eat the rations sent to them, and Hermione was in the drawing room looking over the book that came with the spell, hoping for some clue to it.
“Lectun Repalo!” yelled Harry again. He had his wand pointed at the same book he used earlier and nothing happened.
Concentrate, he thought. For some reason, not knowing the spell was irksome for him. Harry pointed his wand again.
“Damn.” He kicked the book in frustration and went downstairs.
For dinner, Hermione decided to have a go at using what was given to them by cooking. Neither Ron nor Harry had any experience with her manning the stove, and were nervous.
“Not bad,” complimented Ron. Harry had to agree.
“How do you eat so much?” Hermione asked, slightly disgusted and exasperated.
Ron swallowed. “You’ve known me for six years and you ask me that now?” he said.
“Anyway,” cut in Harry, “find anything in that book, Hermione?”
“I’ve gone through almost the entire book and I can’t find anything on the spell, Harry. It only has reasons why Muggle-borns are scum and what spells would be ‘useful’ in getting rid of them. I suggest just forgetting about it for now.”
“She’s got a point,” said Ron. “Wait until we see Lupin or Moody again and ask them.”
“Fine, but once more,” said Harry, taking out his wand. He pointed it at Kreacher’s sleeping space and said the incantation. “Lectun Repalo!” Everything stayed the same. “Nothing.” Dismayed, Harry took a piece of the pie.
Harry Potter and the Secret Spell by Phoenix 86
Chapter Notes: Very special thanks to my Beta Lyric for fixing chapters 3 and 4. Hopefully, she will return. Please review.