Gradually the Order concluded that Voldemort had somehow created even more than one horcrux, although how he had done so was a mystery because no one knew how the dark objects even worked.
It was, they were almost certain, the reason that Voldemort had been able to revive himself after trying to kill Harry as a baby. Tom Riddle's journal which had nearly killed Ginny had been one. The Gaunt Ring.
But they weren't sure if there were more than that, or what the objects were, or where they could find them.
They had created a timeline of Voldemort's life following his graduation from Hogwarts, trying to guess if there were other points at which Voldemort might have created more.
She read through the sections on horcruxes that the new book had. It detailed exactly how to create them. A murder was required to tear the soul, and then an incantation to remove the piece of the soul and bind it to another object. There was no mention of creating more than one. Hermione wondered whether the soul containers had to be inanimate or if they could potentially be living vessels, considering Voldemort's strange attachment to his snake Nagini.
She outlined all the information onto a scroll and then carefully placed everything into a warded briefcase. She slipped it beside the desk and left it for Moody to pickup. They tried to keep actual meetings limited to diffuse suspicion. There was no particular reason for Moody to meet with the Order's healer every week.
As she headed up to her room she evaluated Malfoy's interaction with her that day.
He'd apologised. It had been quite surprising.
She pulled her notebook out from under her bed and considered.
The previous week she had made a page in which she detailed her best guesses regarding Malfoy's moral code. She reread the comments she had made the week before.
Better than Voldemort. Conceit in his morals. Believes in choice. Rationalises cruelty. Doesn't believe he is vindictive.
She added a note, “Considers his word somewhat binding. Tries to make amends when he thinks he has broken his rules.”
The book on horcruxes had probably been his way of trying to buy her forgiveness. She wondered if he'd been holding it for a while or had only gone to the trouble trying to obtain it because he'd felt guilty over hexing her so many times.
She added, “Thinks forgiveness can be bought.” That was a very useful piece of information.
Then she closed the notebook and put it back under her bed, replacing the wards carefully.
She lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She felt exhausted. She'd only gotten a few hours of sleep before getting up at four in the morning to go gather potion supplies.
She had run out of Severus' potion for the acid curse already. She had no more acromantula venom to make more.
The curse was awful and slow healing. The damage it inflicted was immediate and hard to reverse. The potion Severus had invented was an analgesic that helped to neutralise the acid and stop it from continuing to corrode the body once the curse was cancelled.
Severus had been correct about how easily it was used. A strong shield could stop it, but it had become the most frequent injury the hospital ward dealt with. It didn't matter where on the body it struck, the recovery was slow.
Hermione had brewed every single other analgesic and alkalising salve she could think of but their efficacy paled in comparison to the potion containing the acromantula venom.
She was getting so desperate she was considering trying to hunt down an acromantula. She knew that Voldemort had their service along with all the rest of the dark beings.
Her eyes suddenly popped open.
Perhaps Malfoy would be able to get his hands on some. If he still felt like he owed her a little, he might agree to it.
The next week her aim had improved considerably. She had been practicing with the ricochet charm on the practice dummies at Grimmauld Place and had grown more adept at moving around as she cast. Malfoy seemed vaguely pleased.
He critiqued her form more, and stalked around her scrutinising her technique in a way she found unsettling. When she finished, he handed her a scroll of things she was supposed to do in order to get in shape. Pushups and jumping and crunches and something called a burpee which Hermione vaguely recalled her cousin having once introduced to her. There were a half dozen other things included as well.
“Your aim has improved enough; getting your stamina up somewhere reasonable is more important. Whenever you have time, do repetitions of these,” he said, gesturing at the scroll.
Hermione grimaced slightly but stuffed it into her satchel without a word.
“Any information?” she asked, looking up at him.
His expression hardened and his mouth twitched as though he was hesitating.
“The Dark Lord will be secretly out of the country for the next week. Which means that the response to Order activity will be somewhat delayed. If the Order has been waiting for an opening, it may be the edge they're looking for. I wouldn't suggest trying to retake the Ministry, but if the Order were to attack multiple prisons simultaneously, the response will be — less cohesive.”
“I'll tell Moody,” she said. Then she stared up at him and started to open her mouth.
He quirked an eyebrow and waited.
She almost asked him about acromantula venom, but lost her nerve.
“I'll be going then,” she said, dropping her gaze.
He apparated away before she was out the door.
Flashback 8
May 2002
The news regarding Voldemort's absence was the opportunity Moody and Kingsley had been waiting for.
They had been slowly sharing the blueprints, prison rotations, and other information that Malfoy had been supplying the Order with. Laying out plans. Waiting to strike.
They were ready.
Charlie, Harry and Ron had been urging for such an attack for months.
At long last, everything aligned.
It was the biggest coordinated attack ever made by the Resistance. Almost every fighter they had was brought in. They targeted several of the largest, most protected prisons, as well as the curse development division.
Hermione was so stressed leading up to it, she nearly had a nervous breakdown. Stocking the hospital. Brewing massive batches of all the crucial healing potions. Trying to be prepared for anything.
There was a terrifying doubt, deep down, that she might have sent the Resistance to its doom. That it was possibly all a long elaborate trap, laid by Voldemort and Malfoy.
She kept replaying Malfoy's momentary hesitation, wondering whether it had been a sign of betrayal.
Everyone else left and Hermione, Poppy, and a handful of other healers waited nervously in Grimmauld Place. Waiting to hear anything.
Hermione nearly wore a hole in the floor of the foyer with pacing until the bodies started pouring in.
It was a flood of dying and injured people.
Her clothes and hands were drenched in blood, and the entire house was converted into a hospital in order to accommodate everyone.
She barely believed it when she was informed hours later that it had all been a spectacular success.
The Order broke several hundred prisoners free and reduced the prisons and the curse division to rubble as they fled.
At the advice of Severus, the Order raided the labs of the curse division and brought back a huge haul of many rare and incredibly valuable potion ingredients that Hermione had been unable to get her hands on for years; including an entire flagon of Acromantula venom. Hermione nearly wept when Padma Patil handed it to her.
The condition of the survivors brought from the curse division was horrific. They were so horribly tortured and cursed that many were insane. Their bodies destroyed and ravaged beyond repair. There was no recovery for most of them; she could only ease their pain and hope they'd die quickly.