The Unknown of the Order (Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

Bound by Blood

Jacob Spellman may have known a lot about horcruxes, but he didn't seem to know much at all about finding them. The first place he'd taken them had been a ruinous old shack that had supposedly belonged to Voldemort's maternal grandfather. 

They'd spent days combing through the place inch by inch. Jacob had performed magic Barnaby could scarcely have imagined, but to no effect. He even cornered muggles in the nearby village, gave them memory potions and interrogated them for any possible information, then modified their memories and sent them on their way. 

"Someone's removed it," he said, after the others had long given up in their own searching efforts. 

"Maybe it wasn't really here in the first place," said Barnaby. 

"No, it was. I can tell someone's been here. Someone good. They almost perfectly covered their tracks."

"The Dark Lord must be onto us already," said Merula. "He's probably removed it so we couldn't go mucking with it."

"Maybe..." Jacob admitted. "Let's hope its someone our side, someone who knows what it is and how to destroy it. But, we need to know for certain. There's no point in challenging Voldemort if we can't be sure that he's mortal."

So, the group spent months traversing the countryside, tracking down all of Jacob's leads and following up on each of his mad ideas, with nothing to show for it. 

In the meantime, they camped in obscure locations and Jacob taught them dark magic. He always carefully explained how it was useful and why they would need it, and the girls seemed eager to learn, but Barnaby resented each lesson far more than he ever had his potions classes. 

He'd refused to participate point blank in their lesson on inferi. 

"They're the perfect assistants in life-threatening situations," Jacob had tried to explain. "It's not like their worried about dying again."

Despite the others' arguments about its usefulness, Barnaby just couldn't shake his gut feeling that it wasn't right. He couldn't rely on his brain, but he knew to trust his gut, and it squirmed at the sight of the other three figures standing in a lonely graveyard, surrounded by a sickly green glow as the ground below them shook and moved. 

The months went by, and precious little changed about their situation. Occasionally one of them would sneak into a wizarding area and swipe a copy of the Daily Prophet to learn of more disappearances. Barnaby felt like he was being torn apart. All this effort would have been worth something if it was making any difference, but Voldemort was clearly gaining more ground everyday. Barnaby dreaded waiting for Jacob to return one evening and announce that their friends had died, that the ministry had fallen, the Voldemort had won. 

On one such evening, Barnaby sat at the entrance to the tent watching with an uneasy stomach as Merula practiced a few of the dark spells Jacob had taught them, some of them his own invention. Elena was laying on the ground with her head in his lap. Barnaby stroked her brown hair absently. 

He'd supposed they'd become something more than friends since they'd first met; they slept together after all. Last time Merula and Jacob had left them alone to watch the tent, Elena had cornered him and kissed him. He'd kissed her back. It had been nice. He felt strongly for her, but he couldn't quite work out what those feelings were. He admired her bravery and her kindness, but there was something within her, perhaps the eager look in her eyes as Jacob taught them dangerous magic, that made him uneasy. He didn't want to judge; he'd often been tempted by the same power, but he was afraid she'd tempt him to join in her efforts and he wouldn't be able to resist the evil side of the magic like the others did. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a large crack as Jacob appeared in the clearing of the forest they'd hidden in. He was nearly hit by Merula's Curse of Despair.