"I'm ready," he said, and then he took her arm and Apparated them away.

The world slammed into her in a jolt. Draco gripped her tightly as she steadied herself, the ground uneven beneath her feet. She blinked to clear her vision and found them standing in the exact same spot Lucius and the Dark Lord had appeared in Lucius's memory.

Hermione tugged her arm free, craning her neck up at the enormous range before them. The mountains were shrouded in fog, their cragged outlines barely visible through the purples and greys. But before her stood the same peak she'd seen in Lucius's memory. The same one she'd seen in a book on Romanian geography a week ago, and nearly spilled her coffee over in excitement.

"We were right," she said breathlessly. "The hideout is in Moldoveanu Peak—"

"'We?' You did the research, Granger." Draco glanced at her once, then turned and began walking. After a few heartbeats, Hermione followed him up the winding path illuminated by moonlight.

She walked a pace behind him, her fingers clutching Daphne's wand. There was still a dull ache behind her temples, but each step seemed to push it farther away. She cleared her mind, focusing on the magic and adrenaline thrumming through her veins.

They could do this. For Harry.

The path grew steeper, and Hermione nearly lost her footing on an uneven step. She frowned down at her flats, and Draco paused to wait for her as she transfigured them into thick-soled boots. Her scalp ached from Pansy's pins, so she vanished them with a wave of her wand.

Standing tall again, she pushed her loose hair over her shoulder and tested her boots. Her necklace weighed heavily on her neck, but a transfiguration spell might damage any charms that had been placed on it.

Her heart beat quicker when she met Draco's eyes. "Remind me what you found in your family archives again."

Draco lifted a brow and led them on. "No record of an estate in Romania. The closest property is a cottage in the Balkan Mountains, about 80 miles south of the Bulgarian border. Only two mentions of a visit to Romania in personal journals. Once in 1940, and once two hundred years ago."

She knew it by memory, of course. But she needed to hear it aloud, in the same way she needed to rattle off facts before an exam.

They walked on until they arrived at the stone in the path from Lucius's memory. Her breath grew shallow as they turned a sharp right around it, details clicking into place. Draco let her lead them up the trail to the mountain entrance, his footsteps light behind hers. Every time she turned around to check on him, she found his eyes roving the terrain or glancing at the trail behind them.

"Have you given any more thought as to what kind of object we're looking for?" he finally asked.

"I've already told you everything I know." Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek, realizing that he needed to hear it again, too. "We'll be looking for something relatively small. His earlier Horcruxes had personal significance to him — his grandfather's ring, his school diary — whereas his later ones were items of great magical significance."