Summary: [HG/SS] AU: Crack, Hermione wasn't supposed to get murdered by a troll. She was supposed to spur on Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and become their friend and thus keep them alive through multiple trials. All of Dumbledore's carefully laid out plans tank as Hermione Granger embraces a new life, thanks to none other than Severus Snape.

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, Flyby Commander Shepard

Trigger Warning: none

A Touch of Death

Chapter Five

Everything is scary if you look at it. So you just got to live.

Mary J. Blige

"She's dangerous," Moody said, sipping his tea.

"She's my daughter. Of course, she's dangerous," Manfred said, his wing itching his ears. "We're not dragonbats because we're cuddly. Well— we are cuddly. We just don't look cuddly."

"I happen to think you look very cuddly," Amelia said with a purr.

Manfred growled lustily. "Mrrr."

Moody coughed. "Can we discuss the fact I remember that your daughter seems to command the fabric of the Underworld?"

"What? Not Severus too? Surely if one can do it the other is not so far behind? They do share everything, after all."

"I'm serious, Manfred."

"So, too," Manfred said, "am I."

Moody sighed. "I'm just saying that I don't think I was dreaming about it when she almost handed me my face."

Manfred shook his head. "Alastor, the one thing you need to realise is that nothing is stronger than the bond between those two— and if you nurture it, they will show you nothing but love in return. If you threaten it, they will become as terrible and terrifying as their magic allows— and they have a lot of it."

Alastor wilted. "How do you even discipline something like that?"

Manfred tilted his head. "Fairly."

"Could it really be that easy?"

"I'm not saying that being a fair parent is easy— just that it is the best way to deal with two highly intelligent batlings. I would never lie to them as to why they are being punished, nor would I withhold from them the reason why. Punishment must be fair and transparent— and the reason for it must be justifiable and easily explainable. If you can't explain why you did it, then you're probably not being rational."

"Somehow I don't think you could sell that philosophy to Molly Weasley," Moody said.

Manfred snorted. "She wouldn't even survive tea time in my home."

"Somehow, I don't think she would survive long enough to reach the front door," Moody mused.

"Daddy!"

Thump.

Two excited batlings landed and clung to their father.

"Hmmm? Yes, my loves?"

"Can we play find the naughty Auror?"

Moody blinked.

Manfred grinned from ear-to-ear. "Of course. If you can find one, I'm sure our friend here would be very interested in seeing for himself."

"But he can't fly," Hermione protested.

"He's too heavy to carry," Severus complained.

Manfred slid his eyes over to peer at Moody.

"NO!" Moody yelped.

"ThreetwooneGO!" Manfred yelled.

The batlings whooped gleefully as they took off in a flurry of wingbeats and Manfred grasped Moody with his feet and tore off after them.

"AHHHHHNOOOO!" Moody cried, flailing about helplessly.

"Don't make me drop you, Alastor," Manfred said.

Moody scowled as Manfred dropped him off on the roof of one of the DoM shoppes as the great dragonbat folded his wings and peered over the side.

The batlings silently whooshed past, gliding towards the bakery where a young Auror trainee dressed in light brown robes was clearly dozing off in his chair.

Alastor tensed, preparing to yell down at him, but Manfred promptly stuffed a tasty sausage roll into his mouth.

"Be silent, mate. My children are practising."

Moody seemed rather torn between indignance and deliciousness.

Deliciousness won, and he chewed on it contentedly.

The baker was moving around, stocking the stalls, setting out a wide variety of pies, biscuits, loaves of bread, muffins, and pastries.

Hermione landed in plain sight, spinning on one of the stools. "Hallo, Master Berrycloth!"

"Well. hello there, Miss Hermione! No classes today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Homework is done already."

"Already? I suppose that's about right for you, hrm?"

Hermione grinned. "What are you making today?"

"Standard fare, but I made a double chocolate fudge cake for the meeting this afternoon. Hey— would you be willing to help me deliver it?"

"Okay! Is it heavy?"

"I will charm it so it will be small and light."

"Mmm, okay!" Hermione spun on the stool.

Berrycloth packed up the cake in a box and placed it in a red gingham carry sack. "Take this up to meeting room fifteen, pet. Freki will be expecting it."

Hermione took the handle in her mouth and flapped experimentally. She took off in a flurry of wingbeats.

"Oi! What about your payment?" the baker called out after her and then turned to find half of his goodies had been absconded with. A small pile of gold coins sat in their place.

Berrycloth bonked the sleeping Auror trainee over the head and scoffed, "Some guard you are."

The Auror fell back in the chair and landed on his back. "Ow."

"Good thing the best thieves aren't really thieves at all," Berrycloth tutted, collecting the coins. He leaned over the counter and called up to yell, "I owe your family a sickle for the delivery!"

Manfred chuckled, poking his head over the awning. "My best to your wife, Master Berrycloth!"

Alastor was beside the Auror trainee, grabbing him up by the scruff and giving him a solid shake. "We need to talk about constant vigilance."

"Y-yes, Sir!" the young Auror blurted.

The baker laughed as he went back inside to gather more product to put out. "Be fair, Alastor. Even if he'd been awake, he wouldn't have seen them, either."

Moody grunted, giving the trainee a withering scowl. "Outdone by a pair of batlings, Winchester. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Moody watched the two batlings sharing a large cherry-filled pastry between them, each of them taking one end and working towards the centre with enthusiastic chewing. They met in the middle and licked the sweet fruit filling off the other's muzzle, their bright green tongues flicking like a hummingbird drinking nectar from a flower.

"Doesn't seem right to reward them for thievery, Manfred."

"It wasn't." Manfred chuckled, lapping at his tea with interest. "They spent their own hard-won allowance and errand-running monies for these tasty rewards."

Alastor frowned.

"Did you not notice Severus so carefully placing the coins upon the counter when he took the baked goods?" Manfred chuckled as Alastor's eyes widened in surprise.

"Even acts of mischief must be fair," Manfred said, grinning. "The baker makes his livelihood upon his trade. The batlings know this, but the challenge of removing things while remaining entirely unseen is just too much fun for them to resist. There is always a compromise. They get to practice their stealth. The baker gets what is due to him. No harm is done. Also— I think think that Master Berrycloth is quite amused by how often he is pilfered despite how hard he tries to remain scrupulously attentive. He and so many others."

Moody's brows furrowed. "So all of this—" He stared at the room full of pilfered trinkets, toys, baubles, and even preserved food. "They paid for it all?"

"Or traded. Haggled. Sometimes even charmed. Amelia is certainly not above rewarding them when they complete their studies and get high marks from the other masters."

The batlings pounced, squeaked, and tumbled with each other— a playful tangle of wings, scales, fur, and claws. Severus ended up on top, victorious, and Hermione made a sad little squeak of protest.

Bastiaan chomped Severus and pulled him off. The batling squeaked in protest as Hermione promptly escaped, crowing in victory.

Severus freed himself from Bastiaan and tore off after her, squeaking vengeance.

They tumbled together again, thumping into some moss and vegetation, sliding down, and then ending in a pile of panting and lolling bright green tongues. They snuggled together, yawning, and were instantly asleep.

Alastor boggled as his eyebrow twitched and his mouth curved upward without his permission.

"Gotcha," Manfred said smugly, and a startled Moody shook off the batling cuteness overload with a sputter.

Moody sighed. "Why are they so ruddy adorable?"

Amelia thumped down a mug full of strong Scottish tea. "They are dragonbatlings," she said. "Comes with the territory along with Nundu cubs, Nifflers, baby rabbits, kittens, puppies, and otters."

"Otters?"

"They're naturally adorable."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"And it's true," Manfred said proudly. "All the above."

Amelia sniffed. "You know, Alastor. You should just employ our batlings to test your Aurors' proficiency."

"What?"

"You keep trying to preach constant vigilance, but if they can't even defend themselves against a batling, what chance do they really have out there in the real world?"

Moody scowled. "They aren't that good. They're just lucky."

"Oh?" Manfred said, grinning madly. "Then where's your wand?"

Moody went to pull out his wand, his smug smile fading as he realised he didn't have it.

Amelia pointed over to the batling pile where the two snuggly examples of adorable had a wand laying beside them.

Moody flushed. "Okay, I'm listening."

Twelve defeated Aurors sat slumped dispiritedly on the ground sipping ice-cold lemonade, their bodies covered in marks made by the colourful glowing paintballs the batlings had gleefully tagged them with.

Two of them were doing well, having had evaded the batling's antics or at least taken advantage of the chaos to escape unscathed.

"Two out of fourteen," Moody bemoaned. "How depressing."

"So not fair, boss," one of the Aurors protested. "They have that echomation going for them."

"Echolocation?"

"Yeah, that."

"Back to basic biology for you, Mavins."

A sigh. "Yes, boss."

"Listen up, people," Moody barked. "If you can't dodge a batling, you don't belong out in the field. They're not even trying here, and you're all covered in paint."

The batlings clung upside down on a nearby perch, sharing a huge jackfruit between them— victory's great reward.

Bastiaan whined, tail thumping, all three heads hoping for a share.

The batlings placed pieces of fruit on the dog's tongues and went back to picking apart the fruit between them. Bastiaan tail thumped with approval.

"What about us, boss?" the two survivors asked.

Thump.

Two batlings landed on them, clinging to their bodies like backpacks.

"You lucky sods get to be batling sitters for the night."

The batlings squeaked cutely.

The Aurors instantly melted. "Yes, sir!" they cooed.

Manfred chuckled. "Another two bite the dust."

Moody rubbed his temples.

"This is hardly fair," the other Aurors complained.

"Dodge better next time!" Alastor roared.

Amelia chuckled as she watched her batlings charm a bite out of the Auror's fruit-filled pudgie pie.

"Where did you learn to make those, Edwin?"

"My Da taught me," the young Auror replied with a grin. "We'd go camping on summer hols and make them over the campfire. "Mum calls them campfire paninis."

"They're really good," Mae said, turning the pie iron over the makeshift fire they had conjured. "I had Walkerton make us a few irons."

"Hnn," Moody said thoughtfully. "Don't ever show those things to Arthur Weasley. You'll never get them back."

"No way, sir!" they protested. They cradled their pie irons possessively.

Moody grunted. "Show me how they work."

The young Aurors grinned. "Yes, sir!"

Severus popped his head over the wall, and his ears flattened against his head.

He came back down as Hermione peered at him.

"Well, what's in there?"

"I'm not quite sure."

"Is it werewolves?"

"Definitely not."

"Then— what?"

Severus wrinkled his nose.

Hermione sighed and poked her head up over the wall then, she too, sank back down and wrinkled her face. Her bright green tongue flicked across her teeth. "Okay, I'm not sure either."

They both rose up and peered over the wall together, ears swivelling as they attempted to make sense through hearing what their eyes were failing at.

"Well, it is the full moon."

"Maybe this is one of those were-creatures that dad told us about," Hermione pondered out loud.

"They look angry."

"That one is plucking itself bald."

"Well, that would make me angry."

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances.

"But what are they?"

They flattened their ears against their heads together.

"Keep your body parts away from those cages, Booker!" a voice barked. "If the beak doesn't get you the claws on the feet will make you wish you were dead!"

The batlings' ears perked forward.

"Are they contagious?" the man near the cage yelled back.

"No idea. Do you really want to risk it and spend three days a month as a cranky almost-cassowary?"

Booker seemed dubious. "Not really, boss." He threw food into the feeding troughs using his wand. "How long are they going to come here?"

"Three days a month until they are either cured or dead."

"Harsh, boss."

"Truth, Booker."

"DoM working on a cure?"

"I think they are in holding until they are pretty sure the potion won't wear off. Treating a potion with another potion could turn them into something—"

"Worse?"

"Bizarre."

"Sorry, boss, but aren't they already pretty bizarre?"

"More bizarre."

"Sweet baby Merlin, they already sound like something out of my worst nightmares."

The low rumbling calls from the cage seemed to boom raucously and even vibrate the ground around them.

"Were—" Hermione began slowly.

"Cassowaries?" Severus completed her word, his eyes very wide.

The almost-cassowaries started picking fights with each other, doing their very best to beat the living daylights out of each other until each of them finally went away to a different corner.

"They're kinda scary-looking." Hermione opened a sling bag that was strapped over her shoulder and waist and pulled out a very large book from the small opening. She flipped through it with her wing thumb and stopped at a particular page. "Real cassowaries live in tropical forests in Australia, New Guinea, the Maluku Islands, and— East Nusa Tenggara."

She frowned, flipping more pages. "East Nusa Tenggara is a cluster of islands in southern Indonesia."

Severus peered at the pages as she flipped through them. "Hn. Are they normally a were species?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think so. It wasn't in any of our magical beast books."

"We're not in our magical beast books," Severus noted.

Hermione frowned. "But we exist!"

"Doesn't mean that anyone survived to write about it," Severus pointed out.

Hermione pouted, not liking the possibility that her go-to source for information might be lacking in some way.

"Oi, what are you two doing here squeaking away?" A gruff elder wizard asked, looming over the wall at them.

Severus and Hermione looked up at him, eyes wide, noses twitching.

"This is no place for curious little batlings," the elder wizard said. "You fly yourselves back home before our Head Boss of Us takes it out on all of our hides."

The two batlings squeaked shrilly in alarm and promptly tore off, wings flapping madly as they hurried to gain altitude and zoom off towards home.

The elder wizard chuckled. "Oi there, Booker. Make sure the wards are extra tight tonight. We have some curious batlings on the prowl."

"Again?" Booker complained, moaning at the prospect of more work.

"Think of how your sorry backside will smart if you don't and one of those wee batlings gets hurt."

Booker immediately began reinforcing the wards in earnest. "Yes, boss!"

Winter holidays brought a guest to the House of Morgan, with shy batlings hiding in the giant tree roots that grew around their cave-like home. No amount of coaxing, fruit, pastries, or even pasties could get Hermione and Severus to come out from hiding, and when their guest finally arrived, Amelia and Manfred began to wonder if they had hallucinated having batlings at all, had it not been for the fact that they were both dragonbats.

The proof was rather hard to deny in that area, at least.

The mystery on why the outgoing and even downright gregarious batlings would suddenly become terribly shy at the prospect of houseguests remained a subject for serious contemplation, however.

"Oh my— Merlin's beard!" a feminine voice cried. "I leave you alone for a few months to stamp out fires in Tibet and you go and get yourself married and— and— well, just look at you, I can't even wrap my arms around you anymore. How do I hug this?"

"Hello to you too, Louisa," Amelia laughed.

The witch threw her arms around Amelia's neck and hugged her, and the new dragonbat snuffled her deeply, using her head and wing to wrap around her guest.

"Susan, love, stop oogling at the front door and come in and properly greet your aunt!"

"Yes, Mum!" Susan ran in and then skidded to a halt, her eyes going very wide. "Auntie Amelia?" she rasped.

"Hello there, love," Amelia said, grinning. "Surprise!"

Susan looked unsure as to which approach was best considering her aunt had gained quite a bit of mass and intimidation factor.

Amelia curved her wing around the young witch and pulled her in for a hug. Susan yelped and then relaxed as the dragonbat's warmth soothed her nerves.

"Wow, that's really you, Auntie?"

"In the flesh, dear," Amelia said with a chuckle.

"I really wish I could talk about this place," Susan complained. "Not that anyone would believe me. Ever. All my friends think I'm spending the holidays at a Divination seminar in Yugoslavia, being bored out of my mind."

"Well, there are just some things the majority of the world is not quite ready to handle, pet," Amelia said kindly.

"But you would be so wicked to bring to class," Susan complained.

Louisa tutted. "Hush, Susan. I don't imagine that would end very well."

"I wouldn't be bored," Susan said with a cheeky grin.

Amelia just rolled her eyes, a surprisingly disturbing look on a dragonbat.

"This place is huge," Susan said, looking around the main room with awe. She tilted her head. "I guess that makes sense. You're pretty huge too."

"Susan!"

"It's true, Mum!" Susan protested as her mum gave her a very unfriendly glare.

"To be fair," Manfred's low voice rumbled. "We are both absolutely huge." The much larger male dragonbat wing-walked in with a slow, almost feline sort of slink, his tail carefully moving so to not knock over the guest furniture they had moved in for their fully human guests' comfort.

Louisa's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as Amelia's muzzle parted with happiness and she gave him a tender nuzzle.

"Sis, this is my husband, Manfred."

"A true plllleaaassure," Manfred drawled.

Susan practically bounced out of her skin. "WICKED!"

Manfred smiled at her, all fangs and tongue-flicking. "Absolutely." He looked around. "Where are our batlings? It's not like them to be— shy."

Amelia sighed. "They're refusing to come out, love. They've never been so— ill-mannered before."

Manfred itched his ear habitually. "Hn." He shuffled over to the cave entrance and let out a low, ground-shaking scree.

No response.

Manfred used his tail to scratch his head. "This is— rather unlike them."

His ears swivelled, attempting to catch the slightest sound that might indicate distress or the presence of nearby batlings.

Manfred's ears moved as he homed in on something.

Skkirrrrrrrck…

The sound of something heavy sliding down a tree caused Manfred to move over and take a closer look.

KrrrrrrrrTHUMP!

A groggy-looking mahogany-hued male dragonbat slid down the tree on his belly and landed with a thump at Manfred's feet. Two wide-eyed batlings sat on his back, looking rather startled.

"Hi Daddy," Hermione squeaked.

"Hey dad—" Severus squeaked.

Manfred's expression was deeply amused. "My beloved children. I see that you have assimilated Kingsley into our most glorious family."

Kings opened his eyes groggily, letting out a low squeak. "Resistance is futile."

Manfred took his batlings under wing and snuggled them. "Well done, children. Very well done, indeed."

Amelia looked down at the slightly flattened, belly-sliding Kingsley. "You're forgiven for being late to introductions."

"I want—" Susan started.

"No!" Louisa said immediately.

"But—"

"No! I am not going to explain to your father why you got expelled from Hogwarts!"

Susan sulked. "Fine."

The batlings peered at the guests with curiosity, squeaking to each other.

Susan's lip quivered. "You're so adorable!"

Hermione perked as Severus shook his head.

Hermione held out her wings as Susan scooped her up and carried her off.

Severus frowned, his muzzle crinkling.

Manfred lay a comforting wing over Severus' back. "It will be alright, my son. "She will not forget you so easily."

Severus sulked, unconvinced.

Hermione flopped down on top of Severus, startling him. She tugged him by the wing and dragged him off to pounce Susan together.

Sulking instantly forgotten.

Manfred chuckled as he helped Kingsley upright. "Welcome to the family, brother."

Kingsley gave a soft, bewildered squeak.

"Welcome to the Department of Mysteries full time," Amelia added, grinning smugly.

Manfred tilted his head. "I suppose we should make him a connecting cavern."

"Mum! Can we stay here forever!?" Susan called happily from the adjoining room.

"Just for the holidays, love!" Louisa called back.

Manfred's expression was totally smug.

Amelia scowled across her desk. "How long has this been going on?"

Moody shook his head. "Unsure, but I have a feeling far longer than Hogwarts wishes to admit."

"Petrification? Truly?"

"Partial," Moody said. "The indirect gaze of something— a reflection, perhaps. Something pretty sinister up there. Rumour says it's in the Chamber of Secrets. Salazar Slytherin's parting gift to Hogwarts to supposedly cleanse the Mudbloods from his school."

"It's so hard to believe they were all friends once… the Founders, that is."

Moody grunted in agreement.

"My niece tells me there are a lot of rumours going around, but the truth— she just doesn't know. No one seems to have any real idea. Lots of fear. Speculation." Amelia frowned. "She says Harry Potter talks to snakes. Professor Lockhart— that dandified buffoon whose class got turned into were-cassowaries—set up some sort of duelling club to 'help instil interest in DADA for his colleague's class'. Potter went up against Malfoy's boy, Draco. Something about him conjuring a viper. Potter insists he was only asking the snake not to hurt anyone, but the other children swear he was trying to get the snake to attack them. There have been threatening messages painted on the walls as well."

Moody frowned. "No one has contacted the Auror department about it."

"Somehow. I rather doubt Dumbledore would wish to have more Auror entanglements at Hogwarts."

"These are children being endangered not to mention the teachers and staff."

"So, why is this case on my desk, Alastor?" Amelia asked. "It's pretty rare for school affairs to show up here."

Moody cricked his neck. "The were-cassowaries suddenly went missing. All but Lupin, who reported in for his moon night as scheduled."

"Tonight is a full moon," Amelia said, eyes narrowing.

"Aye, ma'am," Moody said.

Amelia stood. "Get a team together right now. I want Aurors in every single hall until the moon isn't full anymore."

"Ma'am," Alastor said, sweeping from the room in a smooth movement.

"What the hell is going on over there, Albus?" Amelia snarled to the empty room.

Hogwarts Custodian Stumbles Across Basilisk Massacre

Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, was cleaning up messes in the hallways of Hogwarts the other night when he found himself in the midst of a bloody mess: a corpse of a basilisk torn to pieces by what seems to be the schools very own were-cassowaries.

"I never thought my child being a were-anything would save their life!" Noreen Hollingsworth exclaimed as the Aurors swarmed the halls.

Aurors, having been posted at the school due to the missing were-cassowaries, came running to Mr Filch's yells only to find him covered in gore and the mutilated body of a basilisk painting the hallway leading to the Potions classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts, half of it partially wedged in a hidden passage within the wall.

The passage led down into a hidden chamber deep within Hogwarts— the infamous Chamber of Secrets, which also happened to be where the unfortunate were-cassowary students had become trapped while trying to find a suitable place to hide during the full moon without having to report to the Ministry for their moon-night incarceration.

How they managed to find the chamber, to begin with, seemed to involve the harassment of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, for allegedly attempting to attack a fellow classmate with a conjured snake. His yells accidentally caused a passage to open, and the students descended only to become trapped themselves.

Harry Potter was later found nearby with a broken leg, half-pinned by rubble that isolated him from his fellow classmates— a lucky break, as it turns out, for they transformed that night and took on an enormous basilisk that was living in the chamber, driving it up into the school, destroying a wall, and subsequently tearing the deadly creature to pieces.

And, in an even stranger twist, apparently, the call of the male were-cassowary seems to be a reasonable equivalent to a cock crowing, which ensured that the basilisk was well and truly dead.

Investigations are ongoing as to what had brought Mr Potter into the isolated lavatory in the first place, and the boy reported hearing crying coming from the lavatory. When Aurors attempted to investigate the lavatory, a ghost of one Myrtle Warren threw a water-logged, leatherbound journal at them. How this connects to or if it does connect to the Chamber of Secrets remains unknown.

As for Mr Potter's case of bullying, the Headmaster has taken a stand against it stating that despite the unintentional heroism of the were-cassowaries in defending the school, the students will be punished for their treatment of Mr Potter as befits their offence.

"Being heroic in one moment does not erase having picked on and ostracised a fellow student on rumour and hearsay. Mr Potter is not a murderer."

"What a bunch of hypocritical bullMMMPH!"

"Please don't curse around my batlings, Alastor," Manfred said, having stuffed Moody's mouth with a plum. "Sit down, have tea, and throw that rag into the fire where it belongs."

The two batlings looked up from their study books, eyes wide, ears flicking.

"I cannot believe he can stand there crowing about how picked on students won't be tolerated when it was the same ostracising that—"

Manfred shook his head. "Ranting about it here will hardly help, old friend. We know the situations that surrounded some of his students, and we also know that it was more than one occasion that it did."

"What do you think he's up to?"

Manfred shrugged. "Dumbledore has always been a difficult read," he said. "What he wants, he eventually gets, but it is rarely ever the straight and direct approach. Thing is, he often thinks himself the great saviour— sacrificing of himself for an elusive greater good."

"But what is that greater good?"

Manfred sighed, itching his chin with his wing thumb. "A long time ago, Albus was on a mission to save the innocent. He visited orphanages in Muggle areas, trying to save those who needed saving. Many of us at the DoM did clean up duty— sweeping up the bursts of accidental magic that inevitably flared up in his wake— proof, he said, demonstrating that the children needed to be educated at Hogwarts, not a Muggle institution."

Manfred yawned, baring all his teeth. "But not all of the children he saved were grateful. Some of them had to be Obliviated— magic suppressed to prevent explosions of dangerous power— emotionally tied and uncontrollable. He made quite a game of it— saving these children before we had to deal with their aftermaths. Fires. Tragedies. Horrible accidents. Of course, what the DoM sees and deals with cannot always go in front of Wizengamot for all to hear."

"So, Albus comes out smelling like a rosy hero, and we end up cleaning up his messes and missteps," Moody grumbled. "I just never realised it until—

"So it would seem," Manfred said. "He is, of course, not the only one we have had to clean up after. He is just— the most prominent one. I do have my suspicions, of course, that the Dark Lord was once one of those children he supposedly saved."

"So, that's his obsession then," Moody said. "The reason he's been so focused on the Dark Lord returning. Being ready. Do you think he knew about Quirrell?"

"No, and I think that chafes him," Manfred said. "It's not being able to see the forest through the trees as the Muggles say. I think, though, that we've figured out why the Dark Lord was able to come back at all. That journal that 'Moaning Myrtle' threw at the Aurors was seeped in Dark magic. As the ring was before it was destroyed."

"Wait, soul magic?"

"The most twisted kind, yes," Manfred said. "Horcruxes."

Manfred wrinkled his nose. "He had to murder for every one he made, and if he made at least two— I'm willing to bet he made more. We have a team on the journal to trace the magic to trace what others may remain. One can hide an object, but one cannot keep the pieces of the soul from being traced once you know what to search for. That was the downfall of those who originally made Horcruxes to begin with— they captured the would-be immortal, kept them alive, and used what remained of their soul to track the other pieces."

"Those pieces would always want to be reunited," Moody speculated.

Manfred nodded. "Aye. It is not natural for a soul to be fractured let alone preserved in such a state. And— being preserved on a soul-level did not guarantee a body. Quirrell is proof of that. He was possessed."

"So, you compared the signature of the soul in the journal book to the essence trapped in Quirrell."

Manfred nodded. "It is the same."

"Daddy, does that mean you have him?" Hermione asked as she placed her completed homework on the table with Severus'.

Manfred drew his batlings to him, pressing them under his wings to his body. "Yes, my batlings. We have a way to put an end to his unnatural state. We must find his remaining Horcruxes and ensure they are destroyed. Then, and only then, will anything be done to separate Quirrell from his possession."

Hermione and Severus snuggled tighter to Manfred.

"What is it?" Manfred asked, sensing a tremor in his batlings.

Hermione and Severus linked their tails tightly.

Severus spoke up. "We've had dreams."

"Dreams?" Manfred asked. "What sort?"

Severus wrinkled his muzzle and looked at Hermione. Hermione pulled out some parchments from her enchanted bag and placed them on the table in front of Manfred and Alastor.

There, drawn in ink, were detailed sketches of a locket, a cup with a badger on it, and a jewelled diadem. Each was drawn with both Hermione and Severus' hand, but the look was the same— the location the same.

"What are these?" Moody asked, poking the parchments with his finger.

Manfred's smile was feral as he hugged his batlings close. "The path to victory, old friend."

End of Chapter 5

A/N: Back to work tomorrow. *whimper*

I decided to publish this where it was instead of waiting until it was longer since longer could take a while with my crazy schedule.

Thanks for your reviews and support. You all make my day with every one.