". . . of the plan are really quite clever, everything that we should have expected from Voldemort. The Horcruxes - at least five of them, anyway - were supposed to be contained in heirlooms of the Hogwarts founders. Why Voldemort would show such affinity to the school is beyond me, but that's where we are with it. Perhaps both the locket and ring, being Slytherin-related, are his way of showing dominance. . . maybe attachment. . . no, definitely dominance," Hermione rattled on. She continued, barely taking a breath, "The Hufflepuff Cup is hidden in Bulgaria - inside the Troyan Monastery at the base of Stara Planina, to be exact. That's in the Balkans, by the way." Hermione couldn't resist throwing that in, and Ron rolled his eyes just as naturally.

Hermione didn't miss a beat as she continued on, "That's where his new Death Eater, Electra, is from. Don't you see it? Electra, Agamemnon, Troy. That's why Voldemort chose that monastery - because of her and her background. It is a clever word association but definitely a surprise that Voldemort would show anyone any type of consideration whatsoever." Hermione paused, and then looked pleadingly into Harry's eyes as she said, " Harry, beware. . . she is powerful, she is important - and she wears the Ravenclaw necklace."

Hermione's oratory had taken them all the way to the Owlery at the top of the West Tower. As she burst thought the door, the noise sent the owls flapping off their perches in fright. A look of anticipation and great concern still on her face, Hermione turned to Harry, Ron and Ginny who staggered up the final steps. She was excited to have successfully learned what she did, but with that knowledge came deep distress. Matters were becoming graver by the day, an unavoidable fact upon which they were all focused.

Plans were formulating in Harry's head at every word spoken by Hermione, but he never got the chance to verbalize any of them. Before they could even begin to catch their breath, Hermione took out her DA Galleon and placed it in an envelope. She went over to the Owlery's desk and jotted off a quick note, which was placed in the envelope before she sealed it, and wrote the name "Viktor Krum" on the front. The envelope was secured to the leg of a large Barn Owl, and off it went. Hermione then turned to Ron and told him to send a message to Charlie, asking him to set up within twenty-four hours a Portkey landing site in a secluded spot near Troyan Monastery, Stara Planina, Bulgaria. Ron dutifully took out his Galleon and silently sent the message.

Hermione led the group out to the landing where she leaned against the stone and outlined her plan for the Hufflepuff Cup. She, Harry and Dobby would use a Portkey for transport to rendezvous with Charlie and Viktor at which point they would begin to hunt down the Cup. A wave of her hand somewhat diminished the Weasley protests for being left out, and even Hermione's saying that their time would come still did little to mollify Ron and Ginny.

The next day brought decidedly bad weather, and early that afternoon Harry, Hermione and Dobby met in Professor McGonagall's office. Hermione was glad for the dreary, wet conditions outside. She wanted everyone to be focused and serious; not that they wouldn't be, but even the slightest optimism brought upon by bright, sunny weather could lead to a mistake later. There were no margins for error anymore, and Hermione had created an edge she intended to keep. She had no idea about Harry's revelation, and that gave them an even greater advantage, or at least Harry hoped as much.

Lying on Professor McGonagall's desk was the Gryffindor Dagger which Hermione had converted into a Portkey. The significance of her choice was clear, and her cheeky effrontery gave Harry an inner lift. On Hermione's count, all three grabbed the dagger at the same time and were whisked away to whatever fate the Cup had waiting for them. That thought sobered Harry and brought him back down to earth as he, Hermione and Dobby landed with a thud in a small grassy clearing.

Experience had taught Harry plenty, and he was on his feet with wand out in an instant. Dobby already had his hand out, prepared for whatever might await them as Hermione scrambled upright. Charlie Weasley, standing alongside a tall fir tree that skirted the clearing, let out a soft whistle - just enough to get their attention but not enough to cause alarm. All three turned to the sound and quickly made their way over as soon as recognition took the place of wariness.

Charlie turned without a word and led the way through the woods. A few minutes later, with a hillside on their right, the group came upon an old, three-story building just beyond the trees. The façade of the monastery was stone and white stucco with two wooden balconies facing out to the town. A lone figure stood on the upper balcony keeping a close watch on the area. Hermione recognized the figure as Viktor Krum, waving not in recognition of Hermione, but in response to Charlie's wave up to him. At that Charlie led Harry, Hermione and Dobby through the main entrance and into the Troyan Monastery. Krum joined them immediately and all exchanged quiet, serious nods - everyone's expressions full of respect and purpose both. Satisfied with the team in front of her, Hermione pulled her shoulders back with pride as she explained exactly what the mission was, and why.

Although the monastery was extensive, all agreed that the church itself was the logical place to look for the Cup. Voldemort may have had some symbolic reason for the choice, but just as likely it was chosen for its central location within the monastery; therefore, it was the easiest position to defend. Krum turned and silently led the party through the ring of the building and into the courtyard which contained gardens, statues and a small stone church.

As soon as Krum stepped into the courtyard, the air turned bitter cold and became as still as death. Wands out, each person walked slowly and cautiously. Halfway into the courtyard, a soft singing began to waft through the air. From a large, previously unnoticed tomb tucked behind some bushes to the side of the courtyard, a covey of silvery Veela ghosts drifted toward the group. Their singing mesmerized the young men, all of whom stopped dead in their tracks, eyes glazed over, arms limp at their sides.

Hermione grabbed Harry, trying to shake him put of his stupor, but as she looked over his shoulder, she cried out in horror.

Lying on the ground by the tomb were her parents, throats slashed, lifeless. Floating above the bodies, drifting their way, were a dementor, a giant and Lucius Malfoy. Harry began to hear his mother's screams again, Viktor fell to his knees muttering and covering his head and Charlie clasped his hands over his ears as tears streamed down his face. For Dobby, Lucius Malfoy represented the terror of servitude mixed with anger for the way Dobby had been treated and the things that Malfoy had done - trying to hurt Harry Potter among them. Hermione's wails echoed around the courtyard, surrounding each person's pains with her own shrill agony.

It was his anger that kept Dobby somewhat focused and therefore the only one to notice the swords and silver ropes in the hands of the Veela. As the ghosts approached the group, Dobby raised his hand to them and silently said 'Apparitious condensus.' Blue-white streaks of lightning shot from his hand and struck the Veela ghosts, instantly causing each apparition to condense into a tiny spot of white powder that hung in mid-air before falling to the ground and impacting with a tiny puff of white smoke. The swords and ropes fell harmlessly into the herb gardens nearby. Dobby shook his head, trying to keep the cobwebs out and his mind focused as he loped over to where Harry stood. A quick snap of the fingers and a "Pay attention, Harry Potter, sir!" brought Harry's eyes down to Dobby's level.

Once Harry noticed his dementor, he knew exactly what was going on. Harry raised his wand, propelled the charm "Riddikulus' with a firm loud voice, and destroyed the boggart which exploded into wisps of smoke and vanished. Harry, now in total control of himself once again, stepped in front of each member of the party in turn and destroyed his/her boggart. As they all sat along the low stone walls and gathered their wits about them, Harry walked over to the gardens and gazed down at the swords and rope that had been brought by the Veela ghosts. Real enough, he told himself.

Voldemort had left two layers of terror for anyone who approached the Cup. While the ghosts and the boggarts were meant to incapacitate, the swords were surely meant to kill. Harry wondered about the ropes. . . perhaps their purpose was to add a little sport, torturing the victim before the kill. Certainly, Voldemort and his vicious slaves would not be above inflicting pain and gaining pleasure while doing so. Harry walked over to the group and took charge once again.

From high atop the church, a figure draped in black seemingly floated alongside the narrow stone steeple. Incensed at what had just happened, she dared not do anything now. Too much was at risk if she attacked, so she must follow her master's instructions. Electra watched silently as the group moved toward her family's ancient tomb.

The sides of the tomb were spotted with the black stains of time. Without really thinking about it, Harry ran his hand along the stone wall finding, to his surprise, that it was rougher than he would have expected. He stepped back as far as the tall bushes would let him and, taking a more careful look, noticed that whatever names may have once been carved along the walls were now obliterated. Harry doubted that nature had been the cause, not when the carvings above appeared to have survived just fine. Curiosity as well as wariness were heightened by this observation, and his fears were confirmed as he rounded the side of the tomb only to find the vault's wrought-iron gate sealed by a metal snake woven through the vertical bars.

Hermione, Charlie and Krum came up alongside Harry, and the meaning of the snake was not lost on any of them either. Where reservations may have lingered before, none any longer doubted the location of the Hufflepuff Cup. Hermione's knowledge and Harry's instincts had proven to be accurate once again.

Harry pointed his wand at the gate and said, "Fusio!" The iron of the gate yielded beneath the onslaught of the charm's arcing orange light, melting instantly and running down and along the cracks between the ancient cobblestones. For a moment the members of the party found themselves entranced by the glowing red rivulets that wound around their feet. Hermione realized it would be prudent to be done with it and not tarry any longer, so she stepped around Harry and cautiously entered the tomb. Harry followed moments later only to find Hermione staring at the Hufflepuff Cup which was sitting atop a stone pillar. Light from the entrance streamed into the tomb, illuminating the dust-filled air with hazy beams that cast an eerie glow throughout. Remembering the dangers that surrounded the locket in the cave, Harry grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the burial vault. He seriously doubted that things would be this simple - if ghosts, boggarts, rope and swords could be called simple.

Hermione stepped next to Krum, who had remained outside with Charlie. She turned back toward the vault, her right shoulder up against Krum's left arm. Harry had already turned to face the entrance, his wand raised and pointing in the direction of the Cup. With a voice of authority none of them had ever heard from Harry, he once again bellowed "Soulus Exctinctus," and a jet of teal-coloured lightning shot into the tomb. The light that Harry had seen emanate from the locket now cast that same eerie glow throughout the small chamber, easily visible from the outside.

As he had suspected, Voldemort was not done. Undoubtedly designed to kill anyone who may have touched the Cup, Voldemort's last layer of protection was triggered as Harry's charm destroyed the Horcrux. Within moments, the tomb began to lose its solid appearance. What was once hard, opaque stone now began to take on a translucent appearance and, right before their wide-open eyes, the surfaces of the tomb began to undulate.

Seconds later it collapsed in upon itself and became one solid, indistinct mass of stone, lying on the ground looking like any other boulder from the neighbouring mountain. Designed to kill, it may have crushed the Cup as well, but it would have still protected the Horcrux within had it not already been destroyed by Harry's charm.

Watching from above, only Electra could see the ghosts of her ancestors expelled from their final resting place, driven to wander aimlessly for all eternity. What little heart may have remained in her left to follow her relatives, ripped out by the sight of her family, and now every bit as forsaken as their ghosts. Her transformation was complete.

Two days later, Harry found himself standing outside Number Four Privet Drive. He had no real idea what Professor Dumbledore's message meant, but Professor McGonagall thought it important; she clearly wasn't worried about the message per se - she just wanted to make sure Harry got it. Reminding himself that this was Professor Dumbledore's last message to him, Harry took a deep breath and made his way up the neatly trimmed walkway and between the tall bushes that stood beneath the windows of the house.

Harry knocked on the door which was answered by Dudley, now tall and muscular - well built and strong for anyone his age. Dudley greeted Harry and ushered him into the living room, the site of many misadventures in years past. Harry could not help but smile as thoughts of zooming envelopes, floating puddings and engorged tongues flashed through his mind. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were sitting there waiting and were as cordial as when Harry had left at the end of the summer. Indeed, times had changed.

Never having been close - in fact, just the opposite - Harry and the Dursleys kept the small talk to a minimum. It felt like an eternity to everyone in the room, however, so Aunt Petunia dispensed with the uncomfortable silences. "Harry," she explained, "soon after you were left on our doorstep as an infant, another package arrived."

Harry and Aunt Petunia never actually had a civil discussion until now, and he absorbed all she said as he felt no small amount of amazement. It seems this particular package was inanimate and filled with objects that belonged to Harry's mum, Petunia's sister, Lily Potter. Dumbledore's instructions were simple: when the time came, Harry was to be given the one package that was wrapped in leather and tightly bound. It felt all the world like a book to Harry, but the string would not allow itself to simply be untied.

Harry thought for a moment, took out his wand, and pointed it at the binding. Sure enough, the string became undone. As his hands shook and his heart raced, Harry slowly removed the string and carefully unwrapped the leather from around the book. The silence in the room was deafening and the tension palpable as Harry finished unwrapping the book. There it lay on his lap, cover facing upward as the leather draped down over Harry's thighs, and the magical string dangled down toward the floor. Harry looked with astonishment at the cover, which simply read: