Fic, continued.
Hermione is fuming when he returns. "Why didn't you just tell me what you were doing?"
"I didn't have time," Harry says airily, and he's so thrilled with his find that he grins.
"Are you sure this is the right one?"
"Positive," Harry says. The locket, as before, will not open. He thinks of Dumbledore's blackened hand and wonders what will happen when he manages to get it open.
"I don't even know where to begin destroying it," Hermione says. "With all you've told me of finding the fake Horcrux, I can't begin to imagine what sort of enchantments must be on this to keep it from being opened. How do you open something when you don't know what's sealed it?"
"I don't suppose smashing it would be of use," Harry says, picking it up to slam on the table.
"Harry, don't!" Hermione says. "You saw what the ring did to Dumbledore--who knows what that will do to you if you try to physically destroy it?"
Harry carefully puts it down.
"Well, one thing's for sure," Hermione says finally.
"What's that?"
"This R.A.B., whoever she was, never managed to open it. She may have even died after she found it. I wonder how it came to be at Sirius's house."
"Why do you always think it's a witch?"
Over the course of an hour, Hermione tries as many unlocking spells she can think of, Harry bracing himself for some sort of explosion each time, but they have no luck and finally Hermione has to return to her house or her parents, with no means of contacting their daughter quickly, will begin to worry.
"I haven't told them the full extent of what's going on," she says, "but they're rather clever."
"They would be," Harry says, and she beams.
"Let me know right away if you think of something else," she tells him. "You're really getting somewhere, Harry. I know we'll figure this out."
Harry is in such a good mood that even Malfoy is unable to ruin it. Since their confrontation the other day, Malfoy has taken to pretending it didn't happen. He tosses insults at Harry without much force behind them, and Harry, despite being raised by the Dursleys, has good manners and feels it is only considerate to toss the insults right back at him. There's no point in acting like anything between them has changed, because it hasn't. Despite the fact that Dumbledore was misguided enough to trust Snape, something in Malfoy's voice on the tower gave him away long ago, and Harry has always suspected deep down that Malfoy could not turn into a killer.
"Now you've got two lockets," Malfoy says, walking past the room Harry has inhabited. "It's nice to know you're working so hard at buying jewellery while the world expects you to save it."
"I've spoken to Tonks," Harry says, not looking up from the locket.
"I don't know who that is," says Malfoy.
"She's an Auror," says Harry. "She's part of the Order of the Phoenix. She's also a Metamorphmagus."
"If you think I can become one, you're an idiot."
"No bigger one than you are," Harry says lightly. "Only she knows a bit about disguising yourself even if you aren't born able to do it so easily. She says there might be a way we can make sure no one knows who you or your mum are, so you can leave the house."
"I don't think a hat will help," Malfoy says.
"Really? Because that's just what it was." Harry slips the locket into its pocket and it clicks against the fake Horcrux. "I've also spoken to a few other members of the Order, and they're willing to trust you."
"If you think I'm going to join your little army -"
"If you think I'd let you, you're thicker than you let on. No, Malfoy, I'm not inviting you to join up. I'm just telling you they'd be willing to help, and I think you should be grateful. Greyback nearly killed one of the Weasleys, you know, and no one's forgotten that."
"I didn't know he was going to be there!"
"Anyway, I think you'd have a better time of it with more of the Order helping you. We could move you around, and plenty of the Order could find a way to find out whether or not Voldemort knows you're alive."
"How?"
"You don't think the Death Eaters are such a huge secret, do you? What are you doing?"
Malfoy is scratching his arm, and Harry is surprised it hasn't started bleeding.
"It itches," Malfoy says.
"Do you need a new bandage?"
"No," he says. "It's just been that way since it started healing more. I barely need the bandage anymore."
"Oh," says Harry, not wanting to press. He presses anyway. "How's the healing going?"
"Fine," Malfoy says shortly, clearly not wanting to share with Harry. This is just fine with him.
"I'll let you know if we come up with a new plan," Harry tells him.
"Fine. You do that." Maybe he is imagining it, but Malfoy sounds a bit more convinced underneath the contempt.
Harry returns to his locket. He has made no progress at all, but just seeing the engraved S fills him with more hope than he has felt in a long time.
-----
Lupin does not ask Harry what the locket is when he shows him.
"Well, without knowing all the details, it's hard to say what could have been used," he says. "If you'd like, I can give it to Moody, see if he's got any dark detectors that might be of help."
"No," Harry says firmly. "I don't want this going to the rest of the Order."
Lupin nods. "Have you tried fire?"
"I haven't tried anything. I'm not sure how it'll react."
"It's just a locket, Harry. Regardless of what magical properties it has, you should still be able to destroy it. You may be overthinking things."
Privately, Harry thinks this is a bit naive, but then, Lupin doesn't know that he's holding a piece of Voldemort's soul.
-----
Harry is up past midnight, mentally drilling a hole into the Horcrux. If Ginny were here, she'd probably smash it with her foot and have done with it. Professor Dumbledore, he suspects, would be able to feel whatever magic has gone into it just by touching it. He wishes Dumbledore had thought to pass this bit of knowledge on before they went through the cave, but feels guilty for thinking it.
"There has to be a way," Harry says aloud, slamming his fist on the table in place of the Horcrux.
Someone swears down the hall. Considering that there are only two other people in the house and one of them is a woman, Harry has a pretty good idea that Malfoy is still awake. He moves to the doorway and listens, still carrying Slytherin's locket. Malfoy seems to be moving around a lot more than usual. Harry takes his Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and moves quietly down the corridor.
Malfoy is packing. He has only a meagre amount of belongings here, but he's making a mess of fitting them into his rucksack nonetheless.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks.
Malfoy jumps, and Harry remembers his cloak. He takes it off.
"None of your business," says Malfoy.
"Is your mother going, too?"
Malfoy doesn't answer as he packs a particularly ugly pair of green trousers into his bag. He is no longer, Harry notices, wearing a bandage on his arm.
"Has something happened?"
"No," Malfoy says, lying badly.
"Oh, well, enjoy your excursion, then," Harry says. "Pick me up something from Honeydukes, will you?"
Malfoy pauses, but doesn't respond. Throwing all ration out the window, Harry quickly reaches out with his foot and sweeps Malfoy's legs out from under him.
"Come off it, Potter!" Malfoy says weakly, drawing his wand. Harry already has his out.
"I know what you're doing," Harry says. "It won't work. That's not the way to stop this."
Malfoy laughs from the floor in such a crazed way that Harry is reminded strongly of Barty Crouch, Jr. He points his wand directly at Malfoy's face. "I can't believe I'm saying this, Malfoy, but I'm not going to let you do it."
"You're not going to let me?" Malfoy sits up and leans his arms on his knees. "Please. I could have hexed you by now, Potter, but I can't be bothered. Just step aside so I can leave before my mother notices I'm gone."
"You don't have to -"
"Yes, I do!" Malfoy pushes up his sleeve, and there it is, visible even through the thick scab, what Harry was so sure before that he would see, and so sure now that he wouldn't. The Dark Mark burns brightly tonight; Voldemort has called his Death Eaters to his side. They both look at this in silence for a moment, until Malfoy stands and lets his sleeve fall. Harry puts his wand away. This is not what he was expecting at all.
"So that's it, then," Harry says finally.
"Yes, it is," says Malfoy.
"What are you going to tell him?"
"I'll figure that out when I get there," says Malfoy, closing his rucksack. "Maybe he'll be in a forgiving mood. I did get the Death Eaters in, after all. Surely that counts for something. Besides, Snape might put in a good word for me. And if he does kill me, at least my mother will be safe."
Harry says nothing. Privately, he feels that Dumbledore's death is likely to have kept Voldemort in a very forgiving mood indeed. He moves to sit on the bed, but it doesn't smell very pleasant. "You know, Dumbledore once told me it's our choices that make us who we are."
"And I made mine last year," Malfoy says flatly.
"You can still change your mind!"
"No, I can't!" Malfoy throws his rucksack on the floor. "You don't get it, Potter, do you? I can't get rid of it. I already made my choice. There's no going back on it. No matter where I go, he'll always know where I am. You think the world works out perfectly if you try hard enough. You think you can just worm your way out of anything. Maybe you can. The rest of us don't have the benefit of being the 'Chosen One.'"
"I know you sent the chocolate frogs," Harry says.
Malfoy says nothing.
"I know you don't want to do this!"
Malfoy puts his rucksack on and pushes up his sleeve again. "You keep an eye out for this, Potter. I imagine you'll be seeing it a lot." His voice shakes.
"Petrificus -"
Malfoy Apparates with a very final crack, and Harry is left pointing his wand at nothing. He flings the locket at the wall in disgust, and it breaks into two pieces when it hits the floor. Harry crouches and looks at it. The lid and the locket are now completely separate, and inside he sees a picture of a woman with crossed-eyes: Merope Gaunt. He moves to pick it up, and is hit in the face with a jet of red light. This lasts for only a few moments, and Harry quickly runs a hand over his face to make sure everything is still there.
The locket now looks tarnished and old as it is. He picks up the pieces, and they're considerably lighter than they once were. Lupin was right: at heart, it was still just a locket.