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Hermione winced at the forced toughness in his voice.

“No,” she said reprovingly, folding up ihe newspaper. “They’re still looking for Snape, but no sign…”

“Of course there isn’t,” said Harry, who became angry every lime this subject cropped up. “They won’t find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they’ve never managed to do that in all this time…”

“I’m going to go to bed,” yawned Ginny. “I haven’t been sleeping that well since… well… I could do with some sleep.”

She kissed Harry (Ron looked away pointedly), waved al the other two and departed for the girls’ dormitories. The moment the door had closed behind her, Hermione leaned forwards towards Harry with a most Hermione-ish look on her face.

“Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library…”

“R. A. B.?” said Harry, sitting up straight.

He did not feel the way he had so often felt before, excited, curious, burning to get to the bottom of a mystery; he simply knew that the task of discovering the truth about the real Horcrux had to be completed before he could move a little further along the dark and winding path stretching ahead of him, the path that he and Dumbledore had set out upon together, and which he now knew he would have to journey alone. There might still be as many as four Horcruxes out there somewhere and each would need to be found and eliminated before there was even a possibility that Voldemort could be killed. He kept reciting their names to himself, as though by listing them he could bring them within reach: “the locket… the cup… the snake… something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s… the locket… the cup… the snake… something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s…”

This mantra seemed to pulse through Harry’s mind as he fell asleep at night, and his dreams were thick with cups, lockets and mysterious objects that he could not quite reach, though Dumbledore helpfully offered Harry a rope ladder that turned to snakes the moment he began to climb…

He had shown Hermione the note inside the locket the morning after Dumbledore’s death, and although she had not immediately recognised the initials as belonging to some obscure wizard about whom she had been reading, she had since been rushing off to the library a little more often than was strictly necessary for somebody who had no homework to do.

“No,” she said sadly, “I’ve been trying, Harry, but I haven’t found anything… there are a couple of reasonably well-known wizards with those initials—Rosalind Antigone Bungs… Rupert “Axebanger” Brookstanton… but they don’t seem to fit at all. Judging by that note, the person who stole the Horcrux knew Voldemort, and I can’t find a shred of evidence that Bungs or Axebanger ever had anything to do with him… no, actually, it’s about… well, Snape.”

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1. A blank silence greeted Hermione’s words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted.
2. A few of the centaurs looked worried now. Hermione, however, gave a gasp.
3. A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black’s face. Hermione fell silent.
4. A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.
5. A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione’s reappearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.
6. A seam had split on Hermione’s bag. Harry wasn’t surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.
7. All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.
8. Almost against his will he glanced from Ron to Hermione, both of whom looked devastated.
9. An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione’s face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.
10. As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news.
11. At Harry’s words, all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.
12. At once, Hermione Granger’s voice seemed to fill his head, shrill and panicky.

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