Harry woke up startled from a dream. However, unlike the usual terror and cold sweat, he arose with a feeling of melancholic reminiscence. He had been dreaming about Hogwarts - again. Ever since the catastrophe last year, Hogwarts had been closed: albeit closed and protected with layers of intense spells and silent wizards, armed to the teeth with magic. Normally as he woke up from one of these dreams, Harry felt a wave of remembrance, crashing down on him. Harry was puzzled that it hadn't happened this time.

As his eyes regained focus, he put on his glasses and glanced around the room. It was the same room he had shared with Ron the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, and it was still full of memories. How Dumbledore hadn't talked to him, how he had yelled at Ron and Hermione for not talking to him over the summer, and his feelings of dread over his hearing for using the Patronus Charm against some Dementors. Well, thought Harry. I thought those memories were bad, and they're nothing to the new ones I've made so far.

Hedwig's cage lay empty on top of the large wardrobe, which was currently full of his clothes. She was probably still on the way to the Burrow, delivering a letter to Ron and Hermione. They were trying to convince Dumbledore (not to mention the other member's of the Order) that they could be quiet and useful around headquarters. Dumbledore believed them fine, he was even on their side. Considering the last two summers had been filled with attacks when Harry was alone, his reasons were logical. The other members of the Order had the excuse of 'We don't want a bunch of rowdy seventeen-year-olds running around, disturbing our meetings'. Coincidentally, Dumbledore wasn't exactly the head of the Order, either. Since he had died, some odd, unknown spell had kept him communicating to the order through some sort of orb. Most people, like Lupin and Moody, were perfectly willing to take Dumbledore's advice, but some were absolutely against him and his ideas. Dumbledore believed that it would just take a sore blow in the fight against Voldemort before they listened - they all hoped that was true.

Harry startled as someone knocked at the door. "Harry? Are you awake?" Lupin called through the door.

"Just a second!" Harry replied. He quickly dressed, combed his hair, and opened the door.

Lupin had been looking a lot better lately. Ever since he and Tonks had revealed their feelings about each other, they had been a lot happier, and a lot more at ease. Tonks now had bubble-gum pink hair at least once a week. Lupin had a lot less wrinkles under his eyes, and had been a lot more positive, especially since a young, new, witch (who could expertly make the Wolfsbane potion) had joined the Order. His robes were no longer threadbare and worn (Tonks had taken him on a 'shopping spree' of sorts in Diagon Alley), and he was happy to actually be making progress with spreading awarement of Voldemort around. For a while (about a month or so), the loss of Sirius had taken a toll on him. He sat at the dinner table, barely touching Mrs. Weasley's delicious dinner, staring off into space, only talking when he had to answer a question or pass someone some food. Now though, he looked positively happy, and respected the fact that Sirius was still a sore topic for Harry. "Are you ready for breakfast?" he asked. "Molly has made enough food to feed a restaurant, and she's still complaining about how thin you are," he smiled.

"Yeah, I'm absolutely ready to eat," Harry said eagerly. He loved eating around headquarters; Mrs. Weasley always cooked wonderfully.

As they walked down the hall, they passed the heads of the house elves, and the troll-leg umbrella stand (now moved to a safe place in the corner so Tonks wouldn't continue to trip on it). Further down the hall, the picture of Sirius' mother had finally been taken down (and Vanished), and a picture of Sirius, roughly the same size, had been hung. As he passed the portrait, Sirius grinned at Harry, and he grinned and waved back. Though a sad part of Harry reminded himself his godfather was dead, and the portrait's enthusiasm was an imitation, he was glad to have some likeness of Sirius around - even if every time he saw it, it reminded him of just how far away he was from Sirius.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
"Good morning, Harry," Mrs. Weasley sang cheerfully. It was obvious that she was extremely happy, and that she wanted someone to ask what about.

Harry, grinning, asked, "What's making so you so happy this morning, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry continued, "It couldn't be anything about Ginny's OWLs, could it?" He grinned even wider.

"Oh, Harry, how on Earth did you know?" she asked joyfully. "Arthur just got them, back at the house, of course, this morning!" She took a deep breath and continued proudly, "She got all Outstandings, except for a Dreadful in Divination." Harry smiled as he remembered his OWL grades (and his horrible grades in Divination and History of Magic). "I know OWLs aren't really important anymore, I mean, since Voldemort came back and all, but I am so proud of her." She threw her arms around Harry in a smothering hug, then quickly pulled herself away, slightly embarrassed.
"I didn't think the fifth years had time to take OWLs before…" Harry faded off, not sure what to call what had happened the year before. Mrs. Weasley obviously sensed his discomfort, because she immediately cut in with a response.

"Oh they had just finished the day of the incident," she said, bustling around the kitchen. "Now," She said, turning around, "Do you want toast, eggs, kippers, waffles, pancakes, coffee cake, bacon, sausage, orange juice, hash browns, French toast, a little of everything, or just something to drink?"

Harry was impressed at the list she had just rattled off, and couldn't decide just what he wanted. He decided to make her happy, and replied, "I think I'll have a little of everything, Mrs. Weasley," he grinned.
"Excellent, I'll just keep the extras warm for you then," she said, beaming.

Maybe this summer will work itself out, Harry thought. Maybe along with Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and Ron and Hermione, and working out where the rest of the Horcruxes are, I can finally remember Dumbledore, and Sirius, in peace. He sat down and tucked into a large plate of food - piled with quite a lot more than 'a little of everything'.

As Harry shoveled in his delicious breakfast, Lupin coughed for his attention, reminding Harry of Professor Umbridge. Harry looked up and saw that he looked troubled; as if he was searching to find the right words, but they were continually evading him. He sat for a while, and finally he began to speak. “Harry, I have to tell you something,” he said. “The actual reason I woke you up at six o’clock this morning,” he allowed himself a wry smile. “This is going to be a very heavy burden on you Harry, and anyone else you wish to tell,” he swallowed. “I think it is too much of a burden, but obviously Dumbledore doesn’t think so, or I wouldn’t be telling you.” Harry nodded. He wanted Lupin to get to the point and stop beating around the bush - bad news was no better when it took forever to come.





Lupin must have seen his impatience, because he said, “I’ll just get to the point, then. Dumbledore explained all about Voldemort’s Horcruxes to you, did he not?” he asked.





“Yeah,” Harry answered. When Lupin motioned for him to go on, he continued, “A Horcrux is when you tear your soul in half, deposit that half in an item, and store it there. Then, when you die, you stay alive, because you can go get that soul you stored somewhere else. But this is really terribly evil magic, and it’s a forbidden subject at Hogwarts,” he took a breath. “Voldemort ripped his soul into seven pieces, because seven is the most powerfully magic number. Dumbledore thought he knew where most of the Horcruxes were, and had even destroyed a couple already before… last year.”





“Good,” Lupin nodded. “You have an excellent background knowledge, so I don’t have to explain as much to you. As you can see, this is a difficult subject for most people to talk about. However, you still have much-too much- to learn about Horcruxes, so there are going to be a few things you won’t know when you leave,” he started to continue, but Harry interrupted him.





“What do you mean, leave?” Harry asked suspiciously. He had had a feeling for a while that everyone was keeping a secret from him, but he wasn’t expecting anything like this.





“You mean you didn’t know?” Lupin asked incredulously. “I thought Dumbledore told you about this!” Lupin let out a frustrated sigh. “You didn’t know you were going to have to find and destroy Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes and then, eventually, fight him?”





Harry looked back at Lupin, nonplussed, and said, “Dumbledore said we would do it together, but I didn’t know if that was still planned since he died,” Harry looked down at the floor. It was his fault, really, that Dumbledore had died. If only Harry had drunk the potion instead…everything might have gone differently.





“Harry, it wasn’t your fault,” Lupin soothed. “Dumbledore was very intelligent, and he knew his own risks. He wouldn’t have drank that potion unless he knew what it would do to him. It wasn’t your fault.”





“I might have still saved him if he hadn’t petrificus totalused me!” Harry complained. “I could have stayed under the invisibility cloak, and then jinxed Snape when he came or something!” Just the mention of Snape’s name sent a wave of hatred coursing through him, a memory of his treachery that had caused Dumbledore’s death.





“It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Snape’s and Voldemort’s, Harry,” he assured. “You had nothing to do with it.” Harry nodded, again, but he wasn’t convinced. “Now, to your ‘journey’,” Lupin said. “You have to research about Voldemort’s past a little more deeply than you did with Dumbledore. He was expecting to have another year of study with you, obviously, so he only scraped the surface. You’ll find the Horcruxes a little deeper in his past. Well, most of them, anyway.”





“Will I be allowed to take Ron and Hermione with me?” Harry asked. “I mean, if they want to come, of course.” Harry didn’t think he could bear going alone.





“It’s very dangerous, Harry, you must know that,” he replied.





“Of course I know that!” Harry said. “But they promised me they would come with me anywhere, that they wanted to help me defeat Voldemort, in anyway they could.”





“Harry, that promise was made before they knew just how dangerous this was going to be,” Lupin warned. “They might not want to go now that their very lives are on the line.”





Harry took a moment to think about that. Did he really think Ron and Hermione would abandon him, just because it was risky? Hadn’t pretty much everything they had done together over the years been a little - or a lot - risky? He didn’t think so, but what if Lupin was right?





“I wouldn’t want them to get hurt, but I don’t think I could do it alone…” Harry trailed off.





“Most of the choice will fall to them, because they are adults in the wizarding world (and one year from adulthood in the Muggle world), but their parents still have some say so,” Lupin smiled. “And you can do it alone, Harry. And somewhere, inside, you know it. You’re just scared of it.”





Harry was puzzled. No, he didn’t think he could do it alone. And he probably didn’t think so anywhere inside him, either. Nevertheless, he decided to avoid whatever confrontation that comment would spark, put on a smile, and nodded. All for Lupin’s sake, of course. “I guess that’s true…” he said.





“I’m glad you realize that, Harry,” Lupin said. “Now, every Wednesday, at two o’clock in the afternoon, you will come into the kitchen, and we will have a lesson on Horcruxes,” Lupin paused. “Harry, you can tell Ron and Hermione about your journey, but I would prefer if you let me explain the dangers of it before you allow them to make that choice.”





“Wouldn’t it be even less dangerous if three people were going instead of one?” Harry argued. He didn’t want there to be any chance whatsoever that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t want to go. And there was a chance of that if Lupin made it out to be as dangerous as he was making it out to Harry.




“Just think about this Harry: If something happened to one, or both, of them, and you survived, would you be able to shoulder that burden?” he looked Harry in the eye. “Do you think that wouldn’t eat away at you every day until you died? That fact that, because of you, your best friends died?” Harry couldn’t look Lupin in the eye, so he stared at his shoes instead. “Think about it Harry,” he said, as he walked out the door.




Harry had already been thinking about it, and he knew the answer. If something happened to Ron and Hermione, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. And he knew it.




-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~




Harry scraped his plate into the garbage. He didn’t feel as if he would be able to eat for another week, Mrs. Weasley’s food was so filling. As Mrs. Weasley walked back into the kitchen (Lupin had insisted that their conversation be private) she had a concerned look on her face. “Harry, dear, what’s the matter?” she asked. “You look terrible.”




“Oh, it’s nothing, Mrs. Weasley,” he replied. “I just don’t feel to well, that’s all.”




“Well, ok,” she said as he walked out of the room. “If you feel like you need something, you just come tell me.”






Harry felt bad about lying to her, she sounded really concerned, but he didn’t feel words could explain the feeling his conversation with Lupin had given him.




He walked slowly through the hallway, glancing at the old portraits on the wall. The Order’s cleaning committee still hadn’t been able to remove most of them, the Permanent Sticking Charms were so strong. He saw portraits of handsome men and beautiful women, all, presumably, from the Black family. He noticed some of the pictures were blackened and charred. They probably did something to make Sirius’ mum mad, Harry thought blandly, remembering all the burn marks on the Black family tapestry.




When he got to Sirius’ portrait he smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Sirius,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to…I’ll avenge you. I’ll defeat Voldemort, and, somehow, find a way to forgive myself for what I did.” Harry continued his walk to his room.




He flinched when he got to the heads of the house elves, and then completely cringed when he noticed a new addition to the plaque �“ Kreacher. He had wondered why he hadn’t seen Kreacher around lately. Lupin, who was coming down the stairs, saw Harry’s look of horror, and attempted to explain. “Harry, we thought you had already noticed!” he apologized. “Kreacher had a… well, a sort of will, that stated he had to be put on the wall next to his mother. We had to obey his final wishes.”




“How did Kreacher die?” Harry asked, instantly regretting it. It would probably be his fault, and he would have killed someone else off.




“Of old age,” answered Lupin. “We found him sleeping under the quilt Hermione made him. Apparently it was too warm to consider it was made by a muggle-born.”




Lupin continued going down the stairs, and Harry continued climbing them. He went into his room, and saw that Hedwig had returned, with an envelope full-to-bursting with parchment.




He walked over to Hedwig, grabbed the letter, slit open the envelope, and began reading.




Dear Harry,




We’re terribly sorry, but Dumbledore says we won’t be able to come for a couple more weeks. He says he has convinced most of the Order, but a few more influential members are still making trouble for us. We really miss you, and we’ll be coming soon. Lupin sent us a letter a while ago, telling us to talk to him as soon as we got there, and that he had something important to tell us. Everything’s fine here, though since Mrs. Weasley spends a lot of time cooking for the Order members over there, her cooking hasn’t been as good as it normally is over here. I bought some new books through mail order for you, and as soon as they arrive at the Burrow, I’ll send them on over there. They are all about Horcruxes (Yes, Lupin told us all about you having to destroy Voldemort’s), including their history, origin, how to make them (I couldn’t find a book about them without that in it, sorry), and, most importantly, how to destroy them. I also got you a books on advanced curses, counter-curses, jinxes, counter-jinxes, charms, and counter-charms. I know, I know, you probably are a little loaded down with the Horcrux thing right now, but you need to know about these spells to help you defeat Voldemort, even Dumbledore agrees. We hope you’re well, and we want you to know we’ll be there soon.




Love,




Hermione




Harry neatly folded Hermione’s letter and put it on the bed. He laughed to himself, thinking about how he would probably wake up one morning buried by all the books Hermione had bought him. He was very grateful for them though. He still wasn’t sure if he knew enough to face Voldemort. Putting those thoughts aside, he pulled out the next letter.




Dear Harry,




How’re you doing mate? Hope you’re well, as always, and hope you’ve been able to listen to a few secret Order meetings as well. I have to put just kidding because Hermione is reading everything I write over my shoulder. Anyway, to make up for all the boring books Hermione sent you, I sent you a book about Quidditch, and a Superior Broom Care Kit. Together they cost me 15 Galleons, so they had better be good. Dumbledore told us we could come in a couple of weeks. He says he almost has the last members of the Order convinced that we can be quiet and useful. Can you believe the Quidditch World Cup is cancelled this year? Me neither. Something about ‘to dangerous to comfortably play’. Hope Lupin Doesn’t drill you too hard about those Horcrux things!




See you soon,




Ron





Harry smiled. It was typical of Ron to be worrying about the Quidditch World Cup during times like these. Harry folded up Ron’s letter, grabbed Hermione’s, and set them on his desk. Suddenly a searing pain shot through his forehead, and he fell to the ground.




-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~




He was in a dark, nearly empty room. Two people were standing in the corner, arguing. Harry slowly approached. “What do you mean you can’t tell me where the headquarters is?” hissed the taller man. “I thought you assured me you knew!”



“I did know, Lord, but when joined their ranks, they made me take an Unbreakable Vow,” explained a softer, womanly voice. “They seemed to suspect something form the minute I joined.”


“And if Legilimency won’t work…” pondered the tall man. “I think there is no other choice, then.” A cruel smile parted his lips.



“Please, your Darkness, have mercy on me,” begged the woman. “I will find a way to tell you, or have someone else tell you!”



“Silence!” yelled the man. “I wasn’t talking about that, though it will happen to you if you don’t complete this task,” he coughed. “You have been making the Wolfsbane potion for Remus Lupin, have you not?” he asked.



“Yes, every two weeks he takes a full goblet full,” she assured him. Harry noticed her hands were shaking with fear as she spoke.



“Then give him a goblet of something else, accompanied by the Wolfsbane potion. Something to make him sleep long enough for him to be transported here. When he gets here, make sure you have enough Veritaserum to keep him talking for a week at least,” Explained the man. “Do not fail, or else…” he whispered.



The man beckoned for someone to walk over, and when he did, he raised his wand. “Avada Kevadra!” he snarled cruelly, and the man instantly dropped to the floor. “That is what will happen if you fail,” he said.



Harry gasped, and the main turned around. It was Voldemort. He raised his wand, and pointed it at Harry. Harry saw his lips form the words ‘Avada Kevadra’, but he heard no more, and then blacked out.

"Harry…. Harry!"



Someone was trying to arouse Harry, but it wasn’t working. He just found it rather annoying that they wouldn’t just let him be.



Somebody shook him and called his name again. "What do you want?" he asked sleepily. He opened his eyes and peered around the room blearily. Almost everyone he was close to sat around the room on the edge of their seats, waiting desperately for him to realize where he was. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Tonks, and Lupin…. Suddenly everything came washing over him: Ron and Hermione’s letters, collapsing, the new member to the Order talking to Voldemort, their plans to kidnap Lupin by using the Wolfsbane Potion, and Avada Kedavra.



"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione, who was wringing her hands with worry.



"Yeah, I’m fine, I just…" he trailed off. He needed to tell Lupin what was going to happen, but he didn’t feel comfortable saying it in front of everyone. "I’m really tired, I think I just need to rest." He got Lupin’s attention and looked towards the door. Lupin, understanding, muttered something about being hungry and left the room as well.



"Harry, did you need to talk to me?" asked Lupin, his eyes generating concern as he looked towards Harry.



"Yeah, but it’s really important, and I was hoping that we could go somewhere more private," Harry explained, leading the way to the kitchen.



They walked down the hallway silently, and entered the cavernous kitchen. Harry glanced around; no one was in the room. He pulled the heavy doors closed, and sat at the table.



"Is this a serious conversation, as in dangerous?" asked Lupin. "If it is, I can put a Silencing Charm on the door."



"That would be great," Harry replied. "I don’t think you’ll exactly want everyone hearing what I have to say."



Lupin’s face assumed a worried expression as he sat rigidly in one of the spindly kitchen chairs. "Is it anything to do with whatever you might have seen when you passed out earlier?" he asked.



"Yeah, it does," answered Harry, still searching for the right words. "What does the woman who makes you the Wolfsbane Potion look like?"



"Well, she is young," he replied. "A couple of years out of Hogwarts at the most. She has long, strait hair that is dirty blonde, and she’s tall and skinny."



Harry’s hopes sank; he had been hoping the description would be completely different from the woman he saw. It was not. "In my…vision, there was a woman," he began. "She was almost identical to what you described, except that she had her hair pulled back. She was talking to Voldemort, and he was asking her about making you your potion." Harry paused, then continued, "He told her to put something like a Sleeping Draught in it, and then to bring you to him, along with a week’s worth of Veritaserum."



Lupin suddenly looked deathly serious, instead of warily worried. "So do you mean I won’t have any potion to drink in a few weeks except the spiked one?" he whispered.



Harry could clearly see that Lupin was terrified, something he had never seen before. He knew if Lupin was showing signs of worry, then there was definitely something to worry about.



"Isn’t there anyone else you know of that could make it?" asked Harry, who was now worried, too. "There isn’t anyone else in the Order who can?"



Lupin looked thoughtful. Harry couldn’t think of anyone else in the Order who even had enough talent to attempt to make such a complicated potion. Except… "What about Hermione?"

A smile slowly dawned upon Lupin’s face. "Of course," he sighed. "Why didn’t I think of this before?" Harry was relieved. Hermione could do practically any spell or potion that had been invented; of course she would be able to make the Wolfsbane Potion.



"The only problem is how to make that woman believe that you are still taking her potion, and not Hermione’s," said Harry. "Does she actually watch you take it, or does she leave the room?" he asked.

Lupin pulled a bitter face. "She claims she has to watch me for any chance that the potion had any ‘problems’," he explained. "Apparently, she says a mistake in the potion made by her could transform me permanently at the next full moon."



Harry thought. How could they work this one out? Lupin’s life -and the rest of theirs, too- were hanging in the balance. "Does she have any missions for the Order right now?" Harry asked, hoping for a ‘no’.



"Her only mission right now is to make people more aware about Voldemort’s return," he said.



"Perfect," exclaimed Harry. "All we have to do is give her something to do; something urgent that can’t wait until she watches you finish her potion!"



Lupin smiled grimly. "If only it were that easy, Harry," he sighed. "I think she would probably see right through that plan in an instant. She’s not the brightest witch," he explained, "but she does have Voldemort on her side, and that definitely counts for something."



Harry slouched back into his chair, puzzled. Surely Voldemort would see through whatever plan they formulated? They could probably stun her or something, but wouldn’t Voldemort be watching her if this was that important to him? Unless…



"Lupin, how long will it be before you have to take your next potion?" Harry blurted out quickly.



"About three weeks, why?" Lupin asked quizzically.



"Would that be enough time to spread a rumor about an attack from the Order at, say, his London Headquarters?"



"I suppose…" Lupin trailed off. "Why, what are you thinking?"



"If this is extremely important to Voldemort, and from my vision I’m sure it is, he will probably be watching her, don’t you think?" asked Harry eagerly.









"I suppose so," answered Lupin, a look of comprehension dawning on his face.









"So if we spread a rumor about an attack on the exact day you need to take your potion, Voldemort will probably be distracted, won’t he?" Harry grinned.









"Are you thinking we should stun her when she comes to bring me the potion, because he will be distracted with waiting for an attack?" asked Lupin.









"Yeah--" Harry was cut off as Lupin interrupted.









"Because I think it just might work," he replied. "Why don’t we ask Dumbledore?"









Harry was puzzled. "How are we going to do that?" he asked, trying to think. Then it hit him. "Of course, the one spell thing you use to talk to him through that orb!"









Lupin laughed slightly. "You mean the Ressusciter Spell? Yes, that."









Suddenly Lupin got quiet, and Harry followed suite. "Harry," he whispered. "Did I ever actually put a Silencing Charm on that door?"









Harry’s face blanched. "No," he whispered. "No, I don’t think you did."









-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-









"Where do you think Lupin went?" asked Mrs. Weasley, slightly irritated. "We still have quite a bit of cleaning to do in here, and he never finished explaining to us what had happened to Harry."









"Harry looked quite pale," piped up Ginny. "Maybe he was possessed by Voldemort again."









Mrs. Weasley paled and flinched. "That’s a horrid thing to say Ginny!"









"Well, you never know," Ginny shrugged.









"He did look really pale, and really worried," agreed Ron. "And then he gave Lupin this look, and they both left together."









"Oh, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, exasperated, "I’m sure they’re all fine, Harry probably just wanted to talk to Lupin in private, that’s all."









"Well--" began Ron, but he was interrupted almost immediately.









"Now, let’s start cleaning, shall we?" she said half-heartedly, like she was trying to make herself believe just how fun cleaning could be. "Ron, you, Ginny, and Hermione start upstairs with the last bedroom that hasn’t been cleaned out. Fred, George, you stay down here with me, and we’ll finish tidying up the drawing room."









"What?" protested Fred, but he was silenced by the look on his mother’s face.









So Ron, Hermione, and Ginny shuffled down the hallway and up the stairs, speaking only to apologize when someone was bumped into.









When they finally got to the bedroom, Ron let out a moan of despair.









"It’s going to take us ages to get all this done," he complained. "Why couldn’t Mum, Fred, and George taken this room, and we tidied up the drawing room?"









He wasn’t exaggerating. The room itself was covered from head to toe in a thick layer of dust, and the furniture was no better. The bedspread and curtains were moth-eaten and limp, and the papers on the desk were ripped and ink blotted. The cherry-wood furniture had once been fine, but had long since lost its sheen. The little light coming through the single window behind the four-poster bed was filtered through with dust, and it was hard to see.









"Ron, complaining isn’t going to help us get it done," said Hermione reasonably. "Besides, it gives us all a chance to talk without your Mum and your brothers listening in."









They heard a small sniffle coming from behind them, and they turned to see that Ginny was crying, silent tears running down her face.









"Ginny… what’s the matter?" asked Ron quietly, looking truly concerned for his sister.









"It’s just… I’ve been so upset since Harry broke up with me," she sobbed. "I know it was all for my protection, but we were only together for a few months, and I-I really l-l-liked him."









"Ginny, I know for a fact he loves you, too," soothed Hermione. "He was so upset when he had to break up with you, but he thought it was for the best. He just doesn’t want anything to happen to you."









"Can’t he tell I don’t care if anything happens to me?" she burst out angrily. "I waited and watched him for five years! I stopped being shy around him, and I started trying to be his friend. But then, when he finally starts to love me, he can’t be with me."









"I’ll talk to him, okay?" Ron asked. Both Ginny and Hermione jumped. Ron had been standing awkwardly to the side, and they had almost forgotten he was there.









"R-really?" she sniffed. "You’ll actually tell him how I feel, and not make it sound like I’m stupid or something?"









"Ginny, I would never do something like that for something as important as this," said Ron quietly. "You love Harry, and Harry loves you. I would never try to mess that up for you guys."









"Even if it’s really awkward for you, me being your sister, and him being your best friend?" she asked.









"Even if it’s awkward," Ron answered, his voice almost at a whisper.




They all looked at each other, each with a soft smile on their face. It felt as if some huge burden had been lifted: not only off of Ginny, off of each of them separately, yet as a whole. They felt comfortable talking to each other again�”something that had not happened in a long time.









"Well, this isn’t going to get this room cleaned, now is it?" asked Ron shrilly, imitating Hermione.









"Oh, shut it," Hermione replied, grinning.









They all laughed and began cleaning, each of them knowing that cleaning wasn’t the only thing getting accomplished in that dusty old room that day.









-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-









"What is all that racket coming from up there?" asked Mrs. Weasley curiously.









Fred looked up, and a puzzled look came upon his face. "Isn’t that the room Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are supposed to be cleaning?"









"Well, they certainly sound like they’re having fun," said George as the sound of laughter penetrated the floorboards to crash into the drawing room below.









"I’m going to see what they’re up to," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down her feather duster. "I am extremely stressed out here with all this cleaning and a deadline to boot, and those three are not helping me out whatsoever!" she yelled.









Fred looked at his mother with alarm. "Mum, it’s okay. Breathe. Take it one step at a time," he said. "Listen, they’re cleaning now."









Mrs. Weasley relaxed, and George looked at her skeptically. "Are you sure you aren’t going to freak out again?"









Mrs. Weasley looked very flustered. "Yes, you just have no idea, Fred, George," she sighed. "The Order needs the house to be cleaned in the next week and we still have three rooms to do."









"Don’t worry, Mum, we have exactly the thing to cheer you up," grinned Fred.









"Yeah," said George. "The next new magic trick that will change the way the wizarding world cleans."









Mrs. Weasley groaned. "Oh no… not again."

"What the…" came Ron’s voice from the opposite side of the room from where Ginny and Hermione were cleaning. "No way…"

Hermione and Ginny looked over curiously. "What is it?" asked Hermione.

They struggled through the ever-increasing pile of trash on the floor and came to Ron’s side. "Listen to this letter," he said, shocked. "Harry is going to need this."

"Go on," said Ginny impatiently. Ron was staring at the letter as though he couldn't’t believe what was written on it.

"Okay, here goes," he said. "Dear Regulus Black, your Dark Lord Voldemort is pleased to inform you of your recent upgrade, so to speak, in his ranks. You now have a ‘Sirius’ mission. We have information that your brother, Sirius Black, has done/is two things. (1) He is working for the other side, and holds close relationships with Albus Dumbledore, Lily Potter, and James Potter. As you know, these three people, and your brother, are the biggest threats to our cause. And (2), Sirius Black recently convinced Peter Pettigrew to be the Secret-Keeper for the Potters(Lily and James, aforementioned). You have two assignments.

1. Kill Sirius Black, the aforementioned, your brother. He is a serious threat to our cause, and the loss of him will severely cripple the Potters(Lily and James).
2. Convince Peter Pettigrew, aforementioned, to confess Lily and James’ position to Lord Voldemort. Once they are out of the way, there is only one more serious threat.
3. Spy on Albus Dumbledore. Tell him that Death Eaters came to your house, killed your brother, and left the Dark Mark above your house. Convince him you want to revenge Sirius. Get us all the information about Dumbledore, his weaknesses, his thoughts: everything.

Do these things and you will receive a position of high honor among Lord Voldemort and his ranks. Disregard this letter, or its instructions, and you will be killed. You have been forewarned.

Signed,

Severus Snape."

Hermione was frozen in place; Ginny was practically hyperventilating from keeping back tears. Neither of them could believe their ears. Regulus had been assigned to kill Sirius; Regulus had told Pedigree to betray Harry’s parents. Regulus had been told to help kill Tumbledown.

"And he backed out, didn’t he?" said Hermione shakily. "Remember Sirius told us Regulus got scared and backed out, so Voldemort killed him?"

"And Snape sent the letter," said Ron. "Not that I doubt the git’s loyalty to Voldemort now, after what he did."

Ron shuffled through the rest of the papers, looking for more pieces to the story. "Here’s another one…from Regulus to Sirius."

He cleared his throat and began to read, "Dear Sirius, I have been ordered by Lord Voldemort to kill you. I expect I will be killed any time now myself, and I want you to know the truth. You are so dear to me, and I love you like nothing else in the world. By the time you find this, I will either be dead, under the Imperius Curse, or under Lord Voldemort’s torture. I am giving my life to save you, Sirius. I have bought you some more time, so use it well. Fight him, and restore the peace. I declare this my will of departure, and I tell you one last thing: The location of the only Horcrux I know of is hidden deep in the Dark Lord’s past. I am under an Unbreakable Vow, so I cannot tell you where. All I say is this: Marvolo.

Goodbye, Sirius,

Regulus Black."

"So he knew, didn’t he," Ginny shook. "He knew he was going to die, so he spied for us enough to tell us of at least one of the Horcruxes." She shook her head. "And to think Sirius never knew how his brother felt about him, or why his brother died. It was all to save him…" she began blinking furiously.

"We need to find Harry," said Hermione firmly. "He needs to know. It will help us defeat Voldemort."

"Yeah, agreed Ron. "Where is he anyway?"

They swung around as they heard the door shut and lock behind them. "Mr. Potter is currently indisposed in the kitchen," said an oddly familiar voice from behind the hood of a cloak. "Perhaps you would like to join him?"

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione looked at eachother frantically. None of them had wands, and they were completely unarmed. Except for the letters.

"Distract him," Hermione coughed surreptitiously.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Ginny started coughing furiously. She held her throat, and Ron rushed to her aid, kicking the man in the cloak hard in the shins. The man collapsed into a heap on the floor, and Hermione grabbed the letters and stuffed them in her pocket. Ron stole his wand, and held it tightly in his hand, pointing it at the man.

"Take off your hood," Ron snarled. "I have a pretty good idea who you are, but I just wanted to check, Professor."

The man shot out a hand towards Ron’s legs and pulled him down. Ginny, however, had excellent reflexes, caught the wand, and handed it to Hermione. The man made a move to steal the wand, but Hermione stamped on his hand and shouted, "Stupefy!"

The man froze, and Ron pried his leg out of his grip. "Someone needs to stay and watch Snape," Hermione said, pulling off the man’s hood. "Ginny, Ron, stay here with the wand and guard him. Stun him again if he wakes up. I’m going to get Harry and Lupin." She dashed out of the room, leaving Ginny and Ron alone.

"Do you think he was there the whole time?" asked Ginny, staring at Snape with a look of disgust on her face.

"Probably listening outside the door, the slimy git," answered Ron, a look of pure undiluted hatred on his face. Snape groaned, and Ron kicked him, just for good measure.

"Ron!" said Ginny.

"What?" he asked. "Hermione said to keep him unconscious, didn’t she?" he said, a grin spreading across his face.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Hermione ran as fast as she could into her room and grabbed her and Ron’s wands. She couldn’t take the chance that more Death Eaters were in the kitchen, standing guard on Harry and Lupin, and she needed to keep her, Harry, and Lupin armed. She stopped in Harry’s room, grabbed his wand, and tip-toed down the stairs to the kitchen.

She paused outside the door. What if there was a group of Death Eaters just outside the door, waiting to curse and disarm her? She thought a while and decided to per from a Disillusionment Charm on herself. She walked over to the mirror, looked at herself, and did it, smiling as she watched it work perfectly, thanking herself for that extra homework she always asked Professor Flitwick for. Then, she walked over to the kitchen door, opened it, and slid in.

The room was in a state of sheer chaos. It looked as though a war itself had been fought in there. The kitchen table was toppled over and lay in a corner, one of the legs broken off. All the spindly chairs but two were scattered around the room, and Harry and Lupin were tied to two, sitting in the corner. The was cutlery thrown out of its drawer, the points of some of the bread knifes stuck in the walls. The sink was running, and blood was spattered across the floor.

Hermione rushed over to the sink, shut it off, and hurried over to Harry and Lupin. They appeared to be stunned. Important though Harry was to her, she felt Lupin would be of more use if a Death Eater was to come charging in.
She untied Lupin from the chair and cringed. The ropes were tied cruelly tight, and they had left deep welts in the skin on his arms and neck. "Ennervate," whispered Hermione.

Lupin stirred slightly and jumped up, snatching his wand from where it appeared, to him, to be floating in the air. "Who’s there?" he said sharply. "Show yourself or get cursed."

"Professor Lupin, it’s me, Hermione," she said, as she Re-Illusioned herself. "I put a Disillusionment Charm on myself in case there were anymore Death Eaters in the room."

Lupin frowned. "What did the Boggart in your third year Defense Against the Dark Arts exam turn into?"

"Professor McGonagall telling me I had failed every exam," she replied nervously.

Lupin's shoulders relaxed. "What a relief," he sighed.

"Was Snape down here?" asked Hermione. "Is he the one that attacked you?"

"Yes," replied Lupin. "Harry and I were talking about something he saw in his vision, and we forgot to put a Silencing Charm on the door. Snape heard every word, and then he attacked us. Our wands were laying on the table, and we couldn't react in time."

"Well, he tried to attack us upstairs, too," said Hermione. "He pointed his wand at us, and Ginny pretended to start coughing. Ron rushed to 'help' her, and kicked him in the shins on the way by, and he dropped his wand. I picked it up, and I stunned him."

Lupin grinned. "Clever," he said. "I suppose you played on Snape's sense that he was too much smarter than you to view you as a threat."

Hermione beamed. "Yeah, and I grabbed these. We found them on the desk in the room we were cleaning. I guess that room must have been Regulus's."

Lupin's face sharpened. "You found letters from Regulus?"

"Yeah," admitted Hermione. "One from Regulus to Sirius, and one from Snape to Regulus."

"What did they say?"

"Well," Hermione said. "The one to Sirius told Sirius how much Regulus loved him, and that he was buying Sirius time, and not to waste it."

"Interesting," mused Lupin. "Sirius always thought Regulus wouldn't have just left like that; he always knew, somehow, that Regulus would have said something to him."

"I didn't think Sirius and Regulus were very close," said Hermione. "Sirius never talked about him like they were."

"Oh, they weren't exactly close," explained Lupin. "But they loved each other, even if it didn't show on the surface."

"Oh..." Hermione trailed off.

"Now, what did the other letter say?" asked Lupin.

"Oh, yes, of course," jumped Hermione, who seemed to have been coming out of a reverie. "It was from Snape to Regulus. It told him to kill Sirius, convince Peter Pettigrew to tell Voldemort where Harry's parents were, and to spy on Dumbledore, and find out his weaknesses."

Lupin looked puzzled. "But why did they need Regulus to convince Pettigrew to snitch to Voldemort?" he asked. "I always thought he as loyal to the Dark Side by himself.... Obviously Snape, along with some Veritaserum, has some explaining to do."

Hermione looked at Harry, still stunned, and sighed, her brow furrowed. "Obviously a lot of things are coming out that we never knew about before. Won't that help us out?"

"Yeah, it'll help everything get a little more complicated," sighed Lupin. "Get Harry out, will you? I want to check on Ron and Ginny upstairs and make sure they are still safe up there with Snape."

He dashed upstairs, wand clutched in his hand, and left Hermione alone in the kitchen with Harry.

She slowly unwound the ropes binding him to the chair, wincing as they came off, some marked with unmistakable red stains that had to be blood. When she got all of them off, she Vanished them, and awoke Harry.

"Ennervate," she whispered.

Harry slowly sat up and opened his eyes, as if he had merely woken up from a short nap, instead of a fight and being stunned.

"Hermione, you're okay," he smiled. "What happened after Snape stunned Lupin and I?"

"Snape came upstairs and tried to take on the rest of us," she said.

"You, Ron, and Ginny,?" he asked. "And you guys were wandless?"

"Yeah," said Hermione. "I think he was going to try and stun us but--"

"Is Ginny alright?" interrupted Harry. "She isn't hurt or anything, is she?"

"No," said Hermione irritably. "But Ron is going to want to talk to you about something. Now, may I get on with the story?"

Harry nodded, and she continued. "So Ginny started fake coughing, and Ron, pretending to rush to her aid, kicking Snape in the shins in the process. Ron stole the wand, but Snape kicked him, and he dropped it. Ginny got it back, gave it to me, and I stunned him."

Harry grinned. "Did you tell Ron to give Snape a good kick for me?" he asked.

"No, but I'm sure he did that already without you telling him," she smiled. "Anyway, I left them with Snape's wand, got both of our's, and came down here. I Disillusioned myself just in case there were any Death Eaters in here with you. I untied and awoke Lupin, and he told me what had happened. I showed him these," she held up the letters, "and we talked. Then he rushed up stairs to check on Ron and Ginny."

"What are those, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Well, these are two letters," she replied. "One is from Sirius's brother, Regulus, to Sirius, and this one is from Snape to Regulus. The one to Sirius tells him how much Regulus loved him, and how he had bought him some more time by disobeying the Dark Lord. The one from Snape gave Regulus orders from Voldemort. One, to kill Sirius, two, to convince Pettigrew to snitch on your mum and dad, and three, to spy on Dumbledore and find out his weaknesses."

Harry's jaw dropped. "So it's someone else's fault my parent's died, not Pettigrew's?" he asked.

"Well, technically, it is still Pettigrew's fault, because he listened to what the dark side had to say. But, yeah, it might not have happened if they hadn't talked to him."

Harry was confused. Pettigrew supposedly snitched on his mum and dad, but really it was someone telling Pettigrew to tell Voldemort where his parents were hiding. "So who did it if Regulus didn't and got killed?"

"I think Lupin is going to find that out for us," said Hermione. "He said something about Snape and Veritaserum."

Harry sighed and put his face in his hands. Would everything have happened differently if Sirius had found those letters? He was happy that he knew about them, but he knew the contents would torture him for the rest of his life. He held his head up defiantly, and vowed to himself never to give up on Voldemort. It wouldn't have happened at all if it hadn't been for Voldemort, he thought. I would have been a normal person, with a normal family. I might have even had siblings. Normal...

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione. "You look like something's troubling you."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "I'm just thinking how I might have been normal if it wasn't for Voldemort. He's the one who started it, and without him, Pettigrew wouldn't have had to make the choice."

Hermione gave him a stern look. "There is no such thing as normal," she said.

"Of course there is."

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Define it for me, then."

Harry groaned. "What is this? I thought school was over with."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine, be in denial. I'm not the one who can't answer a simple question."

"I can too!" he said, angry at being treated like this. "Normal is...erm...well, normal is when you aren't different," he concluded.

Hermione smirked. "Okay, so who is normal to you?"

Harry stared blankly back at her. "Erm..."

"There is no normal. There never is, there never will be. Normal is a state of mind; you'll never avenge your parents, Sirius, or anybody by trying to be normal." She took a breath. "Normal is a figment of everyone's imagination."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Professor Lupin," said Ginny urgently. "Snape tried to attack us but Ron kicked him and Hermione and I stole his wand and--"

"Ginny, it’s okay. I already know; Snape attacked Harry and I in the kitchen, and we were wandless at the time," said Lupin soothingly. "Everything is under control."

"Is Harry okay?" she practically shrieked. "I have to go see him and make sure he’s alright!"

Lupin smiled. "I think Harry is in good hands. Hermione is awakening him and getting the ropes off him, and she is telling him what happened up here, too."

"Are you going to do something about Snape?" asked Ron. "The idiot tried to attack us all, and he said he was going to tie us up downstairs with you."

"Well, he didn’t get that far, I see," said Lupin. "I suppose you stunned him?"

"Yeah."

"Good, we can’t have him running amok, now can we?" grinned Lupin. "I have some Veritaserum with me, and I was planning on administering some to him in the kitchen. Would you be so kind as to come down with us?"

Ginny and Ron nodded, and walked out the door. They were followed by Lupin after he had muttered a spell ("Planer!"), which caused Snape to float eerily, guided by Lupin’s wand. Ron recognized it as the same spell Sirius had used to make Snape float of of the Shrieking Shack and the Whomping Willow in their third year at Hogwarts.

As they walked down the stairs, Snape occasionally ‘accidentally’ bumping into things, they heard the sounds of a conversation between Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley floating up the stairs.

"Why wouldn’t Snape have attacked them, too?" asked Ron.

"He probably considered them a minor threat, and wasn’t going to bother with them until he had you all finished with," replied Lupin casually. "Remember, though Snape is very smart, and very cunning, he does have the weakness of slightly overestimating himself. To tell the truth, I think Molly, Fred, and George at the same time are more than quite a match more him. Molly is an excellent dueler, too."

"What?" asked Ron and Ginny simultaneously.

"There is no way that mum could be a dueler," said Ginny slowly, in awe.

"Yeah, all she knows are household spells and stuff," agreed Ron.

"She’s not in the Order for no reason, you know," said Lupin, grinning once more. "You should ask her about it some time, and see what she says."

Lupin continued walking down the hallway, bumping Snape into the troll-leg umbrella stand on the way by. Ron and Ginny, however, were stopped in awe in the middle of the hallway.

"Mum…a dueler," said Ginny. "Do you think it’s even possible?" she giggled.

"Honestly…" said Ron, as he began walking again. "The bets spell in dueling she knows is expelliarmus, and she only uses that on Doxies."

Mrs. Weasley then walked out of the drawing room door, arms loaded with Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Cleaner and some dirty rags.

"Hey, mum," Ginny called. "Can you show us some of your dueling skills after dinner tonight?"

Mrs. Weasley went extremely pink around the ears and walked towards the kitchen, pretending that she hadn’t heard them.

"Everyone make some room," said Lupin. "We need to sit him down at the table before we give him it."





Harry stared down coldly at Snape, the man who had made sure he had no parents. Finally, finally he would be able to get all the answers as to why and how this had come around. And, quite possibly, he would get a lot of clues as to the final Horcruxes.





Lupin propped Snape up against the table and held open his mouth. Uncorking a small phial, he put exactly three drops of Snape's Veritaserum in his mouth.





"Everyone stand back a little," said Lupin. "We don't know how he will react, exactly, from being stunned and then given Veritaserum."





Lupin took two long strides back from Snape, pointed his wand at him, and muttered, "Ennervate."





Snape jerked up suddenly and stared at them all warily.





Lupin took a cautious step forward. "You are Severus Snape, are you not?" he asked.





"Yes," answered Snape, now sounding half-asleep.





"Were you working for Voldemort at the time of the death of Lily and James Potter?" asked Lupin.





"Yes."





"Will you please describe the role you played at the time of the height of Voldemort's powers?"





"Of course," replied Snape. He began to talk, his voice sounding dull, as if he had readily prepared what he was about to say. "I wasn't with Voldemort from the beginning, despite what everyone thought. At first, when he was all about killing Mudbloods--" everyone at the table flinched, "--we all supported him, to a degree, of course, but we let him get on with it. We all figured he would get caught eventually, and we didn't want to get the blame on our shoulders. However, it became apparent that he would never get caught, and a rumor circulated about him and his Horcruxes."





He glanced around the room, looking slightly puzzled at the room's reaction to the word. "That's when I joined him. Even an idiot could tell he was gaining power and would soon be more powerful then almost every other wizard in the world, and I was no idiot. I quickly progressed through his ranks, and I was granted a most curious assignment. The Dark Lord trusted me more than any other of his supporters, and I was second only to his snake, Nagini. He told me to apply for the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He wanted a spy in Dumbledore's ranks, and he knew that Dumbledore's greatest weakness was trust."





Harry felt something in his throat catch. He had not been expecting that, and it had caught him off guard. So Voldemort knew, he thought. It was just as apparent to him as it was to everyone else. Harry shook himself; he needed to pay attention. Snape's confession could be laced with bits of information he, Ron, and Hermione would need to find Voldemort's Horcruxes.





"Dumbledore, of course, believed me," continued Snape. "He always believed in second chances, and he welcomed me openly into the school. He didn't, however, give me the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. He thought it would cause a relapse into the ways of Voldemort. I received the post of Potions Master, because of my prowess at potion-making when I was at school. And so I spied for Voldemort, and that led to the beginning of the downfall of his army. I heard Sybll Trelawny's prophecy concerning the Dark Lord and Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom, and I reported it to him. That's why both Potter and Longbottom's parents were, erm, eliminated. Either of them, with their parent's help, could have overcome the Dark Lord."





Snape sat silently, awaiting further questioning. Everyone else in the room, however, was stunned into silence, and no one spoke for a while, simply staring across the room.





Eventually, Hermione broke the silence. "Were you ever un-loyal to Voldemort, even through the years you worked for Dumbledore, or did your allegiance always lie with the Dark Lord?" she asked timidly.





Lupin nodded his approval. "Good question, Hermione," he said.





"I have always been, and will always be loyal to the Dark Lord," Snape proclaimed proudly.





"What about Voldemort's Horcruxes?" asked Harry. "What do you know about them?"





"He made seven in the belief that seven was the most powerfully magical number," said Snape. "He told me, his most loyal servant, where he hid them. One was a ring of his grandfather's--the wizard one, of course--, one was in Salazar Slytherin's locket, one in a diary from his Hogwart's day, his snake, Nagini, was one, and so was Rowena Ravenclaw's pendant."





Harry gasped inwardly. So most of Dumbledore's suspicions were true. "Was there anything else? Did he mention anything about another Horcrux?"





Snape screwed up his face with concentration. "He only ever mentioned riddles about his seventh Horcrux. He was always changing them up, trying to make it hard for me, and anyone else he might have told, to figure them out. That way if someone was spying on him, they wouldn't know all of his Horcruxes, only some."





"Were there any riddles that stayed the same," asked Hermione, "or were they always changed?"





"There was one that he never changed. He seemed almost fond of it; like it was a favorite rhyme, or something."





"Could you tell it to us?" asked Harry. This could be it. If they could decipher the riddle, they would have the location of all seven of Voldemort's Horcruxes; he was practically hanging off of his seat in anticipation.





"Of course," Snape said. "A possession of mine, the only one with a brother, hides a Horcrux, different from all the others. Long and narrow, commonplace and plain, something a Muggle would throw away. Often in use, yet just as often not, it is carried for safety, but often it's not. Held in the hand and yet dropped on the ground, neglected, by itself, it cannot make a sound."





The whole room sat, confused, where they were. The clues didn't seem to fit together at all, and they seemed to have nothing in common whatsoever. The only person moving, and not paralyzed in thought, was Hermione, who was quickly scribbling the riddle down on a piece of parchment.





Lupin, who was looking rather pale, stood up. "Is there anything else any of you would like to ask Severus?"





Harry, on a whim, made a non-committal sound in his throat, and stood up. "Can I ask one more question, if it's okay?"





Lupin nodded his approval. "Is it something you would like to ask in private, or is it okay if everyone hears it?"





Harry looked around at the people sitting in a semicircle around the kitchen table. Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Fred, and George were all looking at Harry curiously, wondering what more questions Harry had to ask.





"Yeah, it would be better if it was in private," muttered Harry. "It's not something I want everyone to hear."





"Okay," said Lupin. "If everyone could move to the perimeters of the room, I am going to put a Silencing Charm around the table."





Everyone obediently scooted their chairs to the edge of the room, and Ron and Hermione kept shooting puzzled looks in Harry's direction. He smiled grimly at them, and moved his chair right up to the kitchen table.





"Are you sure that you'll be safe in there with him?" asked Lupin. "The Veritaserum is due to wear off any moment, and he could wake up any time now."





"I have my wand," said Harry casually, "and I'll probably be able to fend him off right as he wakes up."





"Okay, Harry," said Lupin, still looking worried. "I'm going to put the Silencing Charm around the table. If we can still hear you talking, we'll tell you."





Harry nodded and folded his hands on the table. It wasn't really an important question, but he really wanted to know; he felt he had to know before he set out to avenge his parents.





He heard Lupin say, "Silencio," and all the sound was immediately blocked out. It felt as if a giant bubble had placed around him, Snape, and the table. Snape was looking expectantly at Harry, waiting for his question.





"How did you feel about the Potters?" asked Harry. "Lily and James, I mean."





"James I could have cared less about. I actually celebrated his death, in a way," Harry's insides burned and writhed with anger, "and I was happy to see the man who had made my school years horrible die. I was subject to extreme forms of curses, jinxes, and charms everyday when I walked down the corridor. I wasn't even safe when James was in the hospital wing, because Sirius would assume I had done something to him, and he would come after me. No, I had no feelings of remorse whatsoever towards James Potter after his death, and I didn't feel any regret towards betraying him to the Dark Lord.





Harry was mad. He was angrier than he had ever been in his entire life. He had heard Snape vent about his father before --had even seen what James and Sirius had done to him at school-- but he had never heard this before. Snape was actually happy because he had betrayed his father to Voldemort? He had celebrated his father's death?





This was practically too much to take for Harry, but he had to know how Snape felt about Lily. The rumor's of Snape's feelings towards her had always been in his mind, but no...surely not. Lily was a Muggle-born. Surely that had to mean Snape hated her just as much or more than his father?





"And how did you feel about Lily Potter?" asked Harry, his voice shaking slightly, almost frightened of what Snape's words might confirm.





A melancholy expression crossed Snape's face as he answered Harry. "Lily was the world to me. I don't think she knew how I felt about her, but as soon as she started defending me from James, I felt something for her. Maybe I thought she loved me, so I started trying to hang out with her. She was very sympathetic, and always listened when I talked about everything that was going wrong with my life. She was the only person I ever loved."





Harry sat there, staring numbly into the wood grain of the table. Snape had loved Lily...but had Lily loved Snape? Harry certainly hoped not, but he would have to find out, somehow. He promised himself he would use the Remittomission Charm Lupin had told him about to summon up his mother, and talk to her.





Harry walked out of the area surrounded by the Silencing Charm. He burst past Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, who were trying to see what was wrong with him; past the concerned-looking Mrs. Weasley who was trying to comfort him; and past Remus Lupin, who was standing, stunned, watching Harry leave the room, wand in his hand.





Harry burst up the stairs, went into the small room that he shared with Ron, slammed the door shut, and locked it. The whole while Snape's words kept repeating, over and over, in his head.





"I loved her."





"I loved her."





"I loved her."





-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-





"Harry, we know something's wrong with you, even if you won't tell us."





Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had been trying to convince him to tell them what was wrong with him for nearly an hour, but to no avail.





"I'm telling you guys, nothing is wrong with me!" Harry burst out angrily. "Other than you guys messing with me, that is!"





Hermione sat down on Harry's bed, looking abashed, but determined. "You look just like the day you broke up with Ginny. We know something must be wrong with you when you look like that."





Harry sat up and put his head in his hands. "Snape loved Lily."





Sudenly everyone in the room was paying attention.





"What?"





"Yeah, I said what I meant. When Lupin put Snape and I under the Silencing Charm I asked him how he felt about my mum and dad. Obviously he told me how much he hated James, but then when I asked about Lily, he told me how much he loved her," muttered Harry, his face in his pillow.





"There was something faulty with the Veritaserum," said Ron immediately, disbelief etched across his face.





"Ron, the potion was made by Snape himself," said Hermione. “What are the chances of it being wrong?”





"I don’t think Harry is enjoying this argument,” said Ginny quietly. “Maybe he wants to be alone right now. He just learned a lot, and he might want to think it over in his head.”





Hermione sighed and left the room, closely followed by Ginny, who shut the door with a snap. While they had been talking, the sky outside had slowly faded to a velvety blue, and it was late at night.





Harry looked out the window, eyes half-shut, at the moon. Did Lily really love James, or had she loved Snape? Had she played a significant role in both her and James’ deaths?





Wild ideas, becoming more absurd by the second, filled Harry’s brain until he finally sank into a troubled sleep.





-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-





The next few days passed practically without conversation, and everyone was particularly quiet around Harry. Though the only people who knew about his private conversation with Snape were Ron, Ginny, and Hermione (all of which he was sure would never tell anyone), everyone else seemed to guess that something was wrong with him. It felt, to Harry, as if he was on his death bed; people only spoke in quiet voices around him, gave him practically anything he wanted whenever he wanted it, and he continuously caught pitiful glances from the others out of the corner of his eye.





The entire day seemed planned: eat breakfast, clean the house, eat lunch, clean the house, eat dinner, attempt to unravel Voldemort’s Horcrux riddle, and toss and turn practically all night long. Finally, Harry had had enough.





"Why is everyone treating me this way?” Harry burst out in anger one afternoon and he, Ron, and Hermione scrubbed the wooden floors of the attic until they shone. “I’m not on my death bed or anything.”





"Well, Harry, I think it’s just that everyone can sense that something is wrong with you,” said Hermione reasonably. “You don’t sleep,” Harry shot an accusing look at Ron, “you barely eat, and you don’t look at Ginny nearly as much as you normally do.”





"How do you know I’ve been looking at Ginny?” asked Harry defiantly. “Maybe I don’t want to look at Ginny, anyway.”





"Harry, mate, don’t say that,” said Ron quietly. “I know you’re just trying to be right, but don’t say that. I know you love Ginny, and I know she loves you right back.”





"Yeah, after I dumped her so she would be safe, I’m sure she still loves me.”





"She asked me to talk to you, and to tell you how she feels. I may not have much experience in these matters,” said Ron, “She told me how she feels, and I know how you feel, and you need to get back together.”





"Harry, it’s true, you know,” said Hermione. “Go talk to her. Now.”





Harry gave her an analytical look. “Are you telling me to stop working in favor of my personal life?”





"Oh, forbid that I have a heart,” she said scathingly. “Go talk to her or I’ll hex you.”





With the threat of Hermione’s spell work pushing him along, Harry walked as slowly as possibly to Ginny’s room.





When he finally got there he stopped. He couldn’t do this. He had already dumped her, and now he was going to beg for her forgiveness. Did that seem even remotely right?





"She loves you, and you love her. So you were stupid; it probably won’t be the last time you make a mistake. Talk to her, Harry, and she’ll talk to you, too.”





Harry spun around, worried that what he had heard might have been out loud. Having no idea where the voice had come from, he peered around the corner, looking for a source.





Harry gasped. Sitting on a handsomely carved oak-wood stand was a milky-white orb, filled with swirling silver clouds. And on the surface of that orb was a highly familiar face: the face of Sirius Black.

“Sirius!” breathed Harry, running forward to talk to his godfather, “I’m so happy to�”“



“Yes, yes, I’m very happy to see you, too, but you need to talk to Ginny,” said Sirius shortly.



“Wait, how do you know about me and Ginny?” asked Harry suspiciously.



“Let’s just say that I talk to more people through this orb than you, and death is a lot more insightful than life,” he said. “Now go talk to Ginny. I have something important to talk to you about, but it can wait.”



“But what if she won’t forgive me?” asked Harry quietly. “I did dump her, you know.”



“If she really loves you, it won’t matter,” said Sirius. “And if you don’t tell her before you leave to fight Voldemort, she may never know.”



Harry swallowed the large lump gathering in his throat. He did need to talk to Ginny, but what Sirius had said was true. He might die doing what he had to do, and he had never thought much about that before.



“When you’re ready to talk to me,” said Sirius, already fading from the orb, “tell Remus. He’ll explain the spell to you, show you how to use it, and set it up for you. Goodbye, Harry.”



Harry watched his godfather fade from the orb, and when he was finally gone, he turned to face Ginny’s door. The room appeared to be completely silent, but Harry knew better. Ginny was too much of a private person to not put a Silencing Charm on her door. He reached up to knock, but the door was pulled open under his fist.



“Finally plucked up the courage to come talk to me, did you?” Ginny asked, hands on her hips. Harry had almost forgotten why he loved her so much. Ginny, to him at least, was stunningly beautiful, but she also had a personality he couldn’t resist.



“Yeah, I did,” he said quietly, immediately humbled by her stubborn glare.



“Well, sit down, and then maybe I’ll let you talk.”



Harry let her guide him to sit on her bed, and she sat down next to him, leaning against her wall. As he glanced around the room, he saw Ginny’s room was much like his own. Freshly painted cream-colored walls, light wood furniture, a writing desk, littered with spare quills and crumpled parchment, a feather bed, and an elaborately carved wardrobe. The only things that were different from his room were Ginny’s possessions scattered across the room, and a large picture window, which was currently covered with white lace curtains.



“Now,” said Ginny with authority, “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. I love you, Harry. I’ve loved you ever since your first year of Hogwarts, and I have a feeling even Ron noticed at the beginning. You, however, ignored me, and I respect that you may not have felt anything for me at the time. I waited, for five years I waited, and all for you. I tried to be your friend, I stopped obviously watching you, and I, temporarily, gave up on you. Then, when we finally loved each other, you break up with me.”



Harry had had enough of that excuse. “I only did that because I loved you, and I didn’t want Voldemort to come and slaughter you!” he yelled.



“Don’t you understand?” she whispered. “I don’t care if Voldemort comes after me. I just want to be with you. No matter what happens.”



“Ginny, you have to go back to Hogwarts and finish your last two years," reasoned Harry, "or else you won't have learned everything you need for your life after Voldemort is defeated."



"I could teach myself. I don't need the certification, I'll know it myself."



"Ginny, you'll be much safer at Hogwarts. You're underage, and you know your mom'll make you go. We'll find some way to talk to each other," he promised.



"But I don't want to be apart from you, again," she said. "What if you die before I ever get to see you again?"



"We'll still be here for a couple more weeks of summer vacation before we have to leave and visit Godric's Hollow," said Harry. "We can spend nearly every minute of it together if you want to."



"Well, I do," she said stubbornly, "and we will. Or else."



"Or else," Harry agreed. "I have to go talk to Lupin about some spell to talk to Dumbledore and Sirius through, now, so I have to go, okay?"



"Wait," smiled Ginny, and she pulled him into a full kiss.



Several minutes later, Harry pulled away, knowing he had to master the spell before he could leave Grimmauld Place.



"See you at dinner," said Ginny, waving him out the door. And she simply stood there, smiling and thinking of Harry, and willing the time left in the summer to go as slow as it could possibly go.



-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-



Harry walked down the upstairs hallway towards Lupin's Order office. He was glad that he had talked to Ginny and made up, but he also regretted not talking to Sirius right away. He felt that he really needed to talk to Sirius about what Snape had and hadn't told him about Lily.



He reached Lupin's door and knocked four times before deducing that Lupin wasn't there. Feeling slightly irritated, Harry walked down the stairs and came to a pause outside the kitchen door, where he heard voices rising in an argument.



"I will not have Ron running around the country trying to defeat You-Know-Who!" said Mrs. Weasley's voice. "He could, and probably will, I might add, die!"



"That is a risk they are willing to take!" said Lupin. "And it's a risk Harry, of all people, has to take. It is his destiny, Molly, and if Ron wants to go too, he can."



"He's my son, he'll listen to what I say!"



"He's of age, Molly. You can't stop him if he wants to go."



"He doesn't know the danger!" she argued. "He and Hermione are only going because Harry's going!"



"As a matter of fact, they do know the danger, Molly," said Lupin politely. "I explained it to them mere minutes ago, and though they seemed a little daunted, they agreed they were still going to go."



"They need to go back to Hogwarts," she cried. "Ginny's going back, why can't they? They don't know enough to fight Voldemort, and despite their claims that they'll teach themselves, what makes you think they'll actually keep up with their studies?"



"They have given me their word," said Lupin quietly, "and it is good enough for me, why isn't it good enough for you? Besides, if Harry has any questions, I am going to give him a two-way mirror, and he can talk to me instantly, wherever he happens to be."



"They're going to die," she snapped. "And your stupid mirrors aren't going to help them if they're in You-Know-Who's clutches."



Harry could tell Lupin was about to lose what little patience he had retained in this conversation as he said, in a forced voice, "They are of age, Molly, and you can no longer steer their lives in the direction in which you choose. Their fates are no longer in your hands."



"Oh, I suppose they're in Harry's hands now, aren't they?" she said scathingly. "Let's trust a nearly seventeen-year-old to cope with all the troubles of the world, and let's trust him with our lives as well, while we're at it. Truth is told, I just don't think much of his responsibility or his magical ability without another year of schooling."



Harry was abashed; had Mrs. Weasley always felt this way about him? She had always acted like he was one of her own, sending him Christmas presents, letting him stay at her house over the summer, and fighting for him to be as sheltered as possible. But was that exactly what it all was? An act to convince the others she felt the same way as they did about him? A lie, plain and simple?



"Molly, do you think Voldemort will wait a year for Harry to get out of school? Do you think he will be any more merciful to your family and friends if he knows your children are even more prepared to fight him?"



"Maybe," she said stubbornly. "All I know is Harry has led Ron and Hermione into all sorts of dangerous situations along their friendship, risking their lives along the way. Does it seem as though he actually cares about them, or does it seem as if he wants to use them to his advantage, and that he simply picked friends with talents greater than his?"



"Molly, are you suggesting that Harry's friendship with Ron and Hermione isn't exactly that? A friendship worthy of admiration by all, and strove for by many?"



"Yes, I am suggesting that Harry is using Ron and Hermione, and that they don't really have even a fragment of friendship, if that is what you mean."



"Well, then," said Lupin sadly, "you are undoubtedly much more foolish than I originally presumed."



Harry heard a door click shut on the other side of the kitchen, and, assuming Lupin had left, heard Mrs. Weasley banging around pots and pans, preparing for dinner. Harry walked slowly up the stairs, feeling as if one of the people he felt would always support him had disappeared. He walked to his room, shut and locked the door, and went to sleep, hoping a deep slumber would erase the less-desired events of the day.



It didn't.



-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-



"Ginny, I just can't believe she ever felt this way about me."



"It's okay. Ron and I always knew she felt this way, but we didn't really want to tell you. It's why I'm always so careful that she doesn't know we're together. I'm still underage, and she would forbid it."



Harry sighed; he had gone over his eavesdropped conversation with Ginny a million times over, but he still couldn't believe Mrs. Weasley's feelings towards him. They were sitting on Ginny's bed, simply enjoying each other's company. Seemingly out of nowhere, Ginny leaned into him and kissed him then pulled away.



"I still can't believe it though," said Harry. "She always acted so nice, and she always treated me like I was actually her son."



Ginny groaned. "Harry, we've been through this a million times. I think she doesn't like that she's so indebted to you, and all. I mean, you were Ron's friend, when he otherwise might not have had any friends, you saved me from the Chamber of Secrets, you gave Fred and George loads of money to start their business, and you saved my dad from the snake last year. I think she feels like she'll never be able to pay you back, or something."



"Yeah, I guess," muttered Harry, still partially unconvinced. He glanced at the clock on Ginny's wall and sighed. "It's already five o'clock, I should be going."



"Why?"



"Ron, Hermione, and I still have to work out where we're going and when to find the Horcruxes, and we still have to work out the final Horcrux's riddle."



"Yeah, okay," said Ginny, mocking disbelief, "but I want to walk you to your room."



Harry grinned; he knew Ginny wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, so she found every excuse to walk nearly everywhere with him.



"Okay, fine," he said, "but you'll have to stay and help us figure out the riddle."



"So be it," said Ginny, laughing.



So they walked out of Ginny's room together, and, after looking to check for Mrs. Weasley, made a run for it to Harry and Ron's room. When they finally stopped at the door, they heard Mrs. Weasley calling Ginny downstairs to help with supper.



"Well, I guess I'd better go help mum," she said. "Before she suspects me of hanging about with you."



"Yeah, I guess so," Harry grinned. "I mean, really, I'm just using your high talent to benefit myself."



Ginny laughed and kissed him on the cheek, preparing to hurry downstairs before her mother came looking for her.



Unfortunately, that was exactly what Mrs. Weasley was doing at that moment.



"I call you once, and I expect you to come Ginny! I mean, really, I shouldn't have to come searching around the house, looking for you--" she stopped dead as she saw Ginny standing with Harry, and her kiss good-bye. "Ginevra Molly Weasley," she said in a highly malevolent tone, "what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"



Ginny got highly pale as her mother snatched her by the wrist and pulled her away, shooting a venomous look at Harry. "Harry, dear, why don't you just go figure out the riddle with Ron and Hermione," she said, in a voice dripping with false cheer, "perhaps they will be able to figure out the meaning, even if it is a slight difficult for you to manage."



With that she stomped out of the hallway, Ginny in hand, leaving Harry alone outside his room, wondering what he had ever done to deserve this kind of malevolence.

The fight that followed was one of the worse Harry had ever seen. Ginny, mad at her mother for her actions towards Harry, refused to touch anything made or touched by her mother-- including food. Every night she received owl orders of food from local wizarding inns and pubs, like the Leaky Cauldron. When Harry asked how she was paying for all the food she simply shrugged it off. "Oh, Fred and George are paying for it, and they’ve promised me they won't tell mum," she smiled. "They have enough gold to feed a dragon for a year, let alone me."

Mrs. Weasley was furious. Every time she saw Ginny she offered her something to eat, but Ginny always refused. "Starving yourself isn't going to help the situation," she would call after her. "You have to eat sometime, and I know exactly how much food is in this kitchen!" Ginny, with her owl ordered food, never went down to the kitchen for food or to eat her meals, preferring instead to eat them with Harry her room.

"What if your mum comes in and I don't have time to throw it on?" Harry asked nervously. He and Ginny had agreed that he should always carry his invisibility cloak when he was with her; he didn't want to risk any more conflict with Mrs. Weasley, after all.

"There's a lock on my door," sighed Ginny. "And for the one-millionth time, she would have to knock before she would be able to enter. Harry, just stop worrying and enjoy the little time you have left with me."

Harry had four days left at Grimmauld Place, and several things he had to do were still not finished. He hadn't even asked Lupin about the Remittomission Spell, he hadn't had a single lesson about Horcruxes with Lupin, and he, Ron, and Hermione still hadn't figured out the riddle, or where they were going to head first to find the Horcruxes.

"Mate, we really need to get this done," said Ron seriously one night, as they sat on the floor in their room with Hermione, trying to solve the riddle. "Sorry to sound like Hermione, and all," Hermione shot him a venomous look, "but we don't even know where we're heading in a couple of days. Couldn't we figure out the riddle while we're traveling?"

"I've been thinking about that," said Hermione. "We need to decide where we're heading first, and that way we can keep it going from there."

Harry sat with his head in his hands, thinking. He knew where he needed to go, but he didn't feel ready, emotionally, to go there. "I think I know where we, well, at least I, need to start," he said quietly.

Ron and Hermione sat up at that; he hadn't given any hint, not even the slightest, of where he wanted to start, and they were eager for that information. "Where?" asked Ron, nearly jumping up with anticipation.

"Godric's Hollow," whispered Harry sadly. He still didn't feel ready for it; he could barely even say its name, how was he going to go there.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione soothingly, "of course you need to go there first! Ron and I weren't even thinking about that. We know you need to visit your parents' graves, and the remains of their house."

"You don't have to go with me, you know," he said quickly. "I mean, it's probably the first place Voldemort'll expect me to be going, so he might be watching the place, and you--"

"Harry," said Hermione sternly. "We're going with you, whether you like it or not, so stop trying to dissuade us, and let's get working on this riddle again."

Harry groaned; he supposed he would have to let them go with him, after all. It wasn't that he didn't want them to go, but, like Lupin said, if anything happened to him, he didn't think he would be able to live with himself. He didn't want to be the reason either Ron or Hermione got hurt, or worse. "I think we should ask Lupin for help," he said.

"Harry!" said Hermione, aghast, "Lupin would want you to figure it out on your own, don't you think?"

"Hermione, come one," said Ron, while looking at her like she was insane. "This is a matter of life and death for, erm, everyone. Don't you think Lupin would be willing to help Harry out?"

"Well, why don't you go ask him," she said smugly. "That way Harry can learn the Remittomission Charm while we're all down there."

Determined to prove that he was right, Ron dragged Harry and Hermione downstairs to talk to Lupin, who was sitting at the kitchen table eating a late supper. When they walked up to the table and sat down, he gave them a surprised look and set down his butterbeer. "What brings you three down here?"

"Tell him Harry, Ron," said Hermione. "Ask him your question."

Turning away from Hermione's self-satisfied smiled Harry looked at Lupin. "Erm, well, we were wondering," Hermione shot him a disapproving glance, "I mean, Ron and I wanted to know if you would be willing to help us with Voldemort's Horcrux riddle?"

Lupin smiled wanly. "Well, I have a feeling Hermione told you that I would want you to figure it out on your own," Harry and Ron's faces fell, "but there is a catch. If you cannot figure it out on your own in the remaining days that you are here, I will tell you the answer--and believe me, I will know if you have put forth effort of not--."

"Wait a minute," said Ron, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Are you saying you already know the answer?"

"Why, you are very intelligent to spot something as shadowy as that, Mr. Weasley," said Lupin cheerily. "I do, in fact, know the, quite obvious to the uncomplicated thinker, answer to that riddle you hold in your hands."

"Well, why can't you tell us then?" asked Ron furiously.

"I have a feeling, well, actually, I have the orders, that Dumbledore wants Harry to attempt it first, before I tell him the answer."

"Oh, that reminds me!" said Hermione. "Another reason Harry came down here was to learn the Remittomission Spell, wasn't it, Harry."

"Yes, Hermione," groaned Harry. Leave it to Hermione to remember when a complicated and difficult spell needs to be learned, he thought.

Lupin laughed. "Oh, Harry, don't look so grave! We won't be attempting the actual spell tonight. We will simply be learning the rules and regulations set down by the Ministry of Magic to control this extremely complex spell."

"Even better," said Harry, through gritted teeth.

As he pulled out a chair and, rather begrudgingly, took a seat at the kitchen table, Lupin called back Ron and Hermione, who were about to exit the room.

"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger! I think it would be rather beneficial for you both to learn the spell as well, in case Mr. Potter is indisposed at a moment crucial to its use."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Could we drop the formalities, though? Other than that I'm alright with it."

"Okay, Ron, I'll stop being your third year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and I'll start being your colleague. Good enough for you?" Lupin grinned.

"Yeah, sounds good," said Ron, humbled to the point that made the tops of his ears turn bright red.

Lupin went to the kitchen's rather extensive pantry and pulled out a jug of pumpkin juice and a bottle of butterbeer. "Which would you like to drink? I'm afraid this could turn out to be a rather long lesson."

Once they had all been supplied with their choice of butterbeer, Lupin sat down and eyed them all seriously. "Now, you all, listen closely. The Ministry of Magic has set rules down to the letter for the regulation of this spell. First, one person can only use the spell three times every seven years."

"Why?" asked Harry, who was actually interested.

"When the spell was first invented," began Lupin, "people were able to use it freely, whenever they wanted to. The Ministry realized a problem, however, some witches and wizards became dependant on the spell. They wanted so much to see their deceased friends and family, they would talk to them all day long. It really started to annoy the spiritual realm, though, because they couldn't get through with urgent messages to the living, because there were too many people using the Remittomission spell at that time."

"Wait..." said Harry slowly. "Does that mean only a certain amount of people can use the Remittomission Spell at one time?"

"I was hoping someone would catch that," said Lupin, smiling. "The Remittomission Spell uses a sort of, well, line, like with Muggle telephone lines; if there are too many people using the spell at one time the spell will just wither and die, and the orb you are using will most likely shatter."

"So basically it's a spell to talk to dead people with that only a certain amount of people can use at one time," said Ron.

"Yes, Ron, that is the gist of the spell," sighed Lupin, "but there are more rules than just the one. You have to have certification to use the spell, just like you can't Apparate without passing a test, and months to years in Azkaban are a punishment if you use it without permission."

Harry furrowed his brow. There were quite a lot of rules for this spell, and he didn't see how it was going to help him much if he could only use it three times every seven years, and not to mention the sort of test the Ministry probably required for its use.

"The final main rule is that your orb's location must be in the knowledge of the Ministry of Magic at every given moment in time. Most orbs have a sort of magical tracker in them, though our's doesn't, and it makes it easier for the Ministry to summon the orb if they find illegal use of it."

"Why doesn't our orb have a tracker in it?" asked Ron curiously.

"Ah, Ron, I was just getting to that," said Lupin. "The Ministry knows that you three are going to be doing something for the Order, as I had to tell Rufus Scrimgeour before he would grant me this kind of special permission, but they don't know exactly what, luckily. Otherwise Voldemort would be upon you in a second and we would have no chance. However, I have gotten special permission on several terms of the Remittomission Spell from Scrimgeour."

Harry blinked in slight irritation, but not quite anger. He hadn't liked Scrimgeour much, especially not since he had, basically, asked him to be a poster boy for the Ministry, and to tell the public that the Voldemort situation was under control, when it so clearly was not. He was surprised, shocked even, that Scrimgeour would grant them any sort of permission for anything after Harry's downright refusal at both Dumbledore's funeral and at the Burrow last year. Though it probably made him look like he knew what he was doing, and as if he had a part in the fight against the Order, he thought. He shook himself and kept listening when he realized that Lupin had continued talking.

"He has allowed us to, first of all, have an orb without a tracker on it, because I explained that Voldemort could easily find a way to break the spell and find you. Also, he says that Harry and Ron will have quite enough to deal with with passing their Apparation Tests tomorrow, and that only Hermione will have to take the test in three days."

"What?" said Harry and Ron simultaneously. Neither of them had been told that they were going to have to take their Apparation Tests the following day. At least if only Hermione has to take the test tomorrow we're pretty much guaranteed to pass, though Harry bleakly.

"Oh, yes, I scheduled Apparation Tests for both of you tomorrow at the Ministry and nine o'clock in the morning. Since we will have to take Muggle transportation, this means, that to get ready, eat, leave, and arrive on time, you will have to get up at seven o'clock in the morning. Make sure you look nice, as a good impression can work wonders," said Lupin, looking slightly amused at the looks on their faces.

"Is that all we have to learn for tonight?" asked Harry wearily. He felt as if he wouldn't be able to digest another single piece of information about the Remittomission Spell before he passed out with exhaustion.

"Well, actually, I was planning on teaching you the actual history of the spell tonight," said Lupin.

Harry and Ron exchanged glum glances and look at Hermione, who was copying down notes on a spare bit of parchment found on the table. Ron shook his head disbelievingly, and Hermione caught it out of the corner of her eye. "What?" she asked, not realizing what they were making such a big deal out of.

"You're kidding me," said Ron, rubbing his eyes with tiredness.

"Actually, yes," smiled Lupin. "You'll need your sleep for your Apparation Tests tomorrow, and I don't want to bore you to death with a bunch of facts about old wizards who invented spells."

After bidding Lupin goodnight and finishing the rest of their butterbeer, they thankfully made their way up the stairs. Though Harry was dreading his test tomorrow, he was so tired it couldn't bother him as he sank into his bed, and immediately fell asleep.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It was almost completely dark, yet Harry could hear the sounds of water splashing into a receptacle, and someone screaming. As he looked up, he saw golden marks rushing across it, only to be replaced seconds later by new ones, like some sort of message board. He was in the foyer to the Ministry of Magic.

He walked quickly past the empty wand-check desk and to the several lifts, trying to decipher whether the scream was coming from above or below them. He decided it was below, and took the lift down, stopping at each level to listen.

At the floor of the Department of Mysteries he stopped. The scream was coming from somewhere down the corridor, and was echoing off the walls. He ran as quietly down the hallway as possible, stopping to open the black door he had stopped at so often in his dreams two years before. However, instead of leading into the spinning room with several doors, the door led into a single chamber, dark except for the flickering light of six navy blue candles. He stepped into the room quietly, leaving the door open a crack behind him. The screaming had stopped for the moment, causing Harry's footsteps to echo in the high ceilinged room.

The screaming started again, and Harry began to think the voice sounded familiar. He walked as close as he could to a marble table, and then hid in a stone pillar's shadow.

Placed on top of the table was a thin figure, which was clearly writhing with pain. As a lock of red hair fell lose from the elastic in which it was held, Harry's heart stopped. Someone had Ginny.

It was soon clear who.

"Tell me where he is, girl," said Voldemort, holding his wand over Ginny as if he were playing a sort of game instead of torturing someone. He muttered a counter curse, and Ginny stopped moving, and Harry could hear her breathing heavily.

When she remained silent, her face pale and fragile-looking, Voldemort smiled malevolently. "Crucio," he whispered, baring his teeth down at Ginny.

Apparently the pain was much too much for Ginny, for she could no longer scream; all she did was writhe and twist, attempting to get released from whatever binding spell Voldemort had put her under.

"You know, he can't, and won't come to save you," said Voldemort, as if he were enjoying Ginny's suffering. "He'll stay where ever he is now, hearing your screams, and preferring to save his own skin rather that yours. What have you to say to that?"

He released her from the Cruciatus Curse, and she gave him a look filled with pure venom. "If he were to see this, he would come," she whispered. "I wouldn't want him to, but he would."

"Oh, but he can see this," said Voldemort, laughing his cruel laugh. "His scar forged some sort of connection to me, you see, and I normally use Legilimency to keep him out. I'm not now, though, for I want him to see you suffer. I want him to see you die, while he watches and does nothing."

Harry expected Ginny to plead, to do anything than lie there and look up at Voldemort defiantly, as she did then, daring him to do as he said.

"Ah, such a determined one, aren't you?" laughed Voldemort. "Sitting there challenging me. You aren't fooling anyone, Ginny Weasley. I can taste your fear. You are scared, but don't worry, death will be a welcome relief to all your troubles, unless you were to join me. Revenge Harry for leaving you, Ginny, and join me. Tell me all about him, and how to defeat him. Help me destroy him."

He looked at Ginny a moment, and shook his head, smiling. "No? Well, then, you've made your choice, Ginny Weasley. You've thrown away your last chance at life, and now you have chosen your own fate."

He walked around to her, and muttered the counter jinx to unbind her. "Now stand up, Ginny, and face your death."

Ginny stood up and looked down her nose at him, as if he were merely a school-time enemy, rather than one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. "So be it," she whispered.

"Avada Kedavra!" said Voldemort, to Harry's horror, as he, almost lovingly, pointed his wand at Ginny.

Harry watched her fall, almost gracefully, to the floor, landing with a thunk on the floor, her hair played out beautifully around her head, a look of utter melancholy upon her face. He looked at Voldemort, grinning as though Christmas had come early, simply staring at Ginny's dead body.

Suddenly, with a jolt, he sat up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, his hands shaking. As he did, he woke up Ron, who mumbled, half-asleep, "Whassamattter?"

"Ginny," Harry said, barely managing to get out the word. "Ginny."

"What are you talking about, mate?" asked Ron shakily. "Ginny's just in the next room over, isn't she?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Normally his dreams with Voldemort in them showed what he was doing or how he was feeling at the time, but what if it was different? What if it was exactly like the dream with Sirius in it, luring him into the Ministry of Magic, and luring people he loved there, too? But what if it wasn't? "I just had a dream, that's all," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, "and it had Ginny in it. Really, it's nothing."

Ron gave him a strange look, disbelief etched in every crevice of his face. "Mate, I can tell when you have a good dream about Ginny. This was not a good dream."

Harry felt the blood rising to his face. "How can you tell that?"

"Because you'll have this dreamy look on your face, and you'll be about a million miles away. I repeat: this was not a good dream."

Harry glared at Ron as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'll tell you as soon as I go check on Ginny," he said, avoiding Ron's eyes. "I just need to make sure she's okay."

Ron threw his hands up in frustration. "Why can't you just explain?"

"Because every second I waste might be a second closer to what I saw, okay?" he said, frustrated at wasting time with Ron while Ginny was in possible danger.

Before Ron could say another word, Harry had thrown on his bathrobe and burst out the door, leaving Ron to shake his head in disbelief behind him. It just doesn't get through his thick head, does it? he thought savagely. His own sister is in danger, and all he cares about is me telling him how and why, instead of saving her.

His slippers padding on the carpet, he practically sprinted down the hall to Ginny's room and threw open the door. "Ginny," he said, whispering frantically, "where are you? Are you okay?"

He walked up to her bed, sat upon it, and leaned back against her pillows, thinking it was too late. As his head hit the pillowcases, he heard the crunch of wrinkling parchment, and sat up. There was a letter there, addressed to him, in Ginny's curly handwriting:

Dear Harry,

I’m so sorry to have to communicate to you this way. My mum wouldn’t let me wake you up this morning to tell you where I was going, because she didn’t want you coming with us. I know, she’s really frustrating, but maybe if you talked to her when we got back and told her that the things she blames you for weren’t your fault she’ll forgive you. We went to go get my school supplies from Diagon Alley this morning. We probably won’t be back until late afternoon, as mum wants to take me out to lunch after our shopping. Did I tell you I get all new things this year? Dad got a raise at the Ministry, and we’re making loads more money now. As for protection, we took a decent sized guard from the Order, all in invisibility cloaks, of course, so we don’t cause a scene. So don’t worry, I’ll be prefectly safe, and I’ve brought my wand just in case. I don’t care if I break the statue of security if some Death Eater attacks me in a dark alleyway or something. Good luck on your Apparation Test, and the same to Ron! Tell me how it goes when I see you later!

Seeing you soon,

Ginny

Harry’s stomach plummeted. Diagon Alley was a perfect place for an ambush on Ginny, even if they had a guard from the Order protecting them; not to mention the restaurant they were probably going to later for lunch. He stuffed the letter into his robe pocket and hurried back to Ron.

"Ron, we need to save Ginny," he gasped. "But first we need to take our Apparation Tests."
"Are you mad?" asked Ron. "Ginny’s in danger and we have to take our Apparation Tests first?"

"You don’t understand," said Harry quickly. "There’s a reason we need to do that. I had one of my visions, and that’s why I just woke up. Ginny and your mum went shopping in Diagon Alley today, and then they’re going out to lunch. Voldemort is going to ambush them, kidnap Ginny, and then kill he because she won’t tell him where I am. If we can’t Apparate properly, we won’t be able to get to Ginny in time to save her."

Ron nodded. "Okay, it’s seven-thirty right now," he said, looking at his watch, "and our tests are at nine. D’you think my dad would be able to get us in a little earlier if we were ready?"

"Probably," said Harry. "We could send him Hedwig and then get ready."

Agreeing to that course of action, they immediately began. Harry and Ron scribbled a brief note on a spare bit of parchment to Mr. Weasley that read: Dear Dad, Harry and I are already ready and waiting at Grimmauld Place, and we’re going mad with nerves. Would there be any way at all you could pick us up early and get our test time made earlier? If you can, Apparate and pick us up; If you can’t just wait and pick us up at nine o’clock as planned. Signed, Harry and Ron.

"Well," said Harry, "Ginny’s whole life depends on whether your dad comes to pick us up or not. Hopefully the fact alone that we put our location, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, will be enough to bring him here at least to tell us off."

"Well, we can’t tell him about Ginny, anyway," said Ron, fiddling with a tear in his pillowcase. "The ‘adults’ will think they have to handle it, when we already know only you can save her."

Harry didn’t reply. All he could think about were all the ways their plan could go wrong. If worst comes to worst, he thought, we can tell them, so at least she’ll have a chance. Even if it is a small one.

Ron sighed at Harry’s silence. He clearly wanted to discuss Harry’s dream at length, but Harry didn’t feel up to it just now. One of the people he loved most in the world was about to die, and he didn’t even have a solid plan to save her.

Ron looked away from Harry and said, "Well, I guess we’d better wake up Hermione, then,"

He walked out of the room, and Harry followed, thinking it was unusual for Hermione to still be asleep this late in the morning.

They walked down the hallway, reached her door, and knocked twice. The cream-colored door had peeling paint that revealed its natural white below. A tarnished brass doorknob with a lock that had no key was the only décor that graced it. After standing for several minutes waiting, they knocked again and Ron, getting impatient, yelled through the door. "Hermione, wake up will you? We need to tell you something!"

Suddenly a loud CRACK and a flash of violet light behind them revealed Hermione’s presence to them. "Really, I Apparated up here to see what all the fuss is about, and you two are trying to break down my door!" She grinned when they tried to explain themselves. "It’s okay, guys. Really. I was downstairs making breakfast, since Mrs. Weasley is gone. I thought we might eat a bit before we leave to take our tests." She looked concerned about the look on their faces and added, "What’s the matter with you two?"

Ron looked at Harry, motioning for him to explain them both. For the second time that morning, Harry retold his dream, leaving nothing out, and discussed their plan with Hermione. "Do you think it will work?" asked Harry earnestly, knowing that Hermione would scrutinize their plan until it was perfect.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "I think it just might, actually. There are a few risks, such as not being able to take the tests early, but I think it will do. We can’t come up with anything else on such short notice, anyway."

"Well, let’s eat, then, and we can talk more about it then," said Ron irritably. "We won’t be ready on time even if dad comes early at this rate."

So they walked down to the kitchen, each frowning with worry, going over their plan. When they reached the room and opened the door, the delicious smell of omelettes, toast, and sausages wafted over them, making their stomachs growl.

"Hermione," said Ron, aghast, "where did you learn to cook like that? This smells delicious!"

"Wow, a compliment from you?" she asked mockingly. "I guess it must be good then. You’re forgetting I lived with Muggles for eleven years before I knew I was a witch. Since my mum and dad were busy a lot with their dentistry, I cooked a lot. It was a passion of mine, though, and I liked doing it, so it wasn’t so much of a chore as something to do for fun."

"You cooked for fun?" asked Harry incredulously. He remembered having to cook for the Dursleys, and he had hated it. "I hated cooking for the Dursleys, it was torture."

"Well, you had to cook exactly what they told you, didn’t you? And I was always allowed to experiment. And you probably were forced to cook, right? If I didn’t feel good, or just didn’t want to cook, I could call my parents and they would order take-out or grab something for us all," she said, arranging the food on china platters to carry over to the table.

Harry wasn’t going to argue with her; her food smelled absolutely delicious, and he was stunned when she put two omelettes and double portions of toast and sausage on both his and Ron’s plates, while she only ate half of what they did.

"How much food were you going to give us?" asked Ron, who had apparently also noticed. "You only have a fourth of what we have!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Are you complaining?" Ron shook his head. "Well, I suppose you’d better eat, then. Besides, I read in a book about Apparation that said it’s easier to Apparate on a full stomach."

Harry shrugged at Ron and they both began to eat. Harry discovered that Hermione was an ingenious cook; she had found some way to melt the cheese in his omelette perfectly, something even Mrs. Weasley had never managed. The eggs were infused with herbs, the sausages fat and juicy, and the toast was just in the middle of burnt and uncooked. By the time he had finished, fifteen minutes had passed, and he was full to bursting.

"Hermione, that was the best meal I have ever eaten," said Ron sighing. "My mum never cooked anything as good as that. Ever."

"She used magic to cook, didn’t she?" asked Hermione, wincing. "To someone who can cook the Muggle way, and well, magical food is terribly substandard to cooking it the old-fashioned way. I can practically taste the magical resonance in your mum’s food, to tell the truth. I’ve never complained, but I’ve never actually liked it either."

"Why can’t we taste it?" asked Harry curiously.

"Ron has grown up eating magical food, except for at Hogwarts, where the house elves cook it, and he’s used to it. You, Harry, probably never had much decently cooked Muggle food, so you never knew what the real thing tasted like," she said simply. "There’s just no comparing to food that it cooked by hand and by a real person, not a wand."

"Well, I suppose we’ll have to eat a lot of magical food on our trip, won’t we?" asked Ron. "I mean, you can’t just whip out a stove every night, and there aren’t very many magical inns that serve Muggle food."

"Actucally, all inns use Muggle food," said Hermione. "Or at least the ones where they are convienient to us to stay. Most inns are run by Squibs," she explained. "There’s not a lot of other jobs for them in the magical community, and they want to stay in the magical community as much as possible. An inn is ideal for that, as people of all kinds pass through at one time or another, and they hear a lot of news from their customers."

"That makes sense," said Harry reasonably. "I mean if they can’t use magic, it’s a lot cheaper to just cook than to hire a witch or wizard to cook, isn’t it?"

As Hermione was about to respond, she was interrupted by the loud noise of a door being thrown open in the foyer. As she was about to get up to see who it was, Ron pulled her back down.

"What if it’s a Death Eater or something?" he hissed.

"Your letter was highly foolish, Ron!" yelled Mr. Weasley from the foyer, as he was taking off his boots. He had opened the door so he could see them and they could see him. "And Harry, Hermione, why didn’t you stop him?"

Harry had a sudden flashback of Snape chastising him for not telling Neville his potion was wrong, even though he didn’t know it himself, but he didn’t say anything. "Why was it foolish, Mr. Weasley?" he asked innocently.

"You put the location of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters in your letter!" he said. "It specifically said, come and pick us up at Grimmauld Place if you can. Voldemort and the Death Eaters know you are hiding in the Order of the Phoenix, they would have come to find you had this letter gone astray."

"We’re sorry, dad, we didn’t notice," said Ron, trying to hide his smile. "Does this mean we can take the test earlier?"

"Yes, it does," said Mr. Weasley irritably. "Lucky for you I have a useful accquaintence at the Center for Apparation Regulation and Control. Are you ready now?"

They nodded and stood up. As they quickly rinsed their plates and set them in the kitchen sink, Mr. Weasley washed and dried them with a quick wave of his wand, an impatient look on his face. “I still don’t know what you lot were thinking,” he said. “Anyone could have found this place, really! Now, quickly, quickly, gather around me.

Throwing a confused look at Hermione, Harry and Ron joined her in a huddle around Mr. Weasley. He seemed to be holding an old, patched, and particularly ragged sock. Harry assumed it was a portkey, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Mr. Weasley, is that a portkey?” he asked curiously. Normally wizards used trash for portkeys; some people could be desperate enough to use this sock if they were homeless or something, thought Harry.

“Why yes, Harry, it is. Gather around, you lot,” he said quickly, as if he could not get the words to come out fast enough. “On my word! One…two…THREE.”

At three Harry put his finger on the old, raggedy sock and felt the familiar sensation of a hook jerking him along by his navel before he completely blacked out.

“What happened, Arthur? Is he okay?"

All Harry knew was that he couldn't move, and that he hurt all over. He made a feeble attempt to roll over and see who was talking to Mr. Weasley and groaned. Every time he made a move, sharp pains shot across his body, like white-hot knives stabbing into his skin.

"Arthur, he just made a noise!" Harry saw the face of Alastor Moody swim into his field of vision. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes, but every time I so much as blink I feel like I've been crucioed a million times over." He gasped; even talking practically brought tears to his eyes.

"Well, we did get splinched. I believe you did get the worst of it," said Mr. Weasley reasonably.

"What?"

Mr. Weasley and Moody exchanged worried looks. "Well, we believe someone tampered with the portkey we were trying to use. Ron and I both got slightly splinched, but I will say that you got it rather bad," said Mr. Weasley.

"Am I fixed now?" asked Harry through gritted teeth. He couldn't look down for fear of what he would see.

"Well, the good news, Potter, is that yes, you are...put back together," said Moody, shifting uncomfortably as Harry had never seen him before.

Harry, dreading what he was going to hear, asked, "What's the bad news, then?"

"Well, there's two parts," admitted Moody. "The first part is that after the splinching, you're going to be very sore, and you're going to have to rest for a few days to regain your stamina."

"You don't say," said Harry sarcastically. "What's the second part?"

Mr. Weasley gave Moody an exasperated look. "Leave me with the hard one!"

"Well, it does have to partially do with you."

Harry looked at both of them suspiciously. "What is the news?"

"Well, Harry," began Mr. Weasley, also shifting uncomfortably. "Ron told us about the foredream you had about Ginny."

"Don't tell me. It came true?"

"Well, we're not sure. We can't find Ginny or her mother. What's that look for?"

"I'm sure Mrs. Weasley and Ginny can manage quite well without my lack of talent," he said coldly.

"Ah, yes, that," replied Mr. Weasley. "Well, I'm sure we can discuss this a little--"

"We need to discuss it now, Mr. Weasley. Or I'm not telling you where Ginny was in my dream."

Mr. Weasley paled; he hadn't expected that Harry would risk any danger on Ginny's part for this conversation. "Surely Ginny is more important right now, Harry?"

"No, Voldemort won't kill her until tonight, when I'm dreaming, so I can see it," said Harry. "Now tell me why Mrs. Weasley seems to hate me so much."

"Well, Harry, the simple version is that you've taken two members of her family away from her, and the youngest ones to boot," he said. "You and Ron are nearly inseparable, and you and Ginny love each other." He stopped and looked amused at the look on Harry's face. "Yes, Harry, I know you and Ginny have been going out for some time now. Any fool could tell."

Harry turned red and started mumbling something, but Mr. Weasley excused him with a wave of his hand. "No need to explain, Harry. I certainly feel no animosity towards you whatsoever. On the other hand, Molly simply is feeling maternal towards her youngest offspring, I believe. She doesn't want them to grow up any faster than they have to, and with Ron going on a journey with you, and Ginny falling in love with you, it seems like you're the reason they're growing up a little faster than she would like. Can you understand now why she's treating you this way?"

Harry nodded. Now the idea of talking to Mrs. Weasley, as had been previously suggested, didn't seem quite so absurd. "Yeah, I get it now. What are we going to do about Ginny and Mrs. Weasley?"

Moody and Mr. Weasley exchanged yet another uncomfortable glance. "Well, we thought that Moody and Lupin could go rescue Ginny, with the help of your information, and that I could stay here with you while you regain your strength," said Mr. Weasley.

"No," said Harry stubbornly. "Give me a potion or something; I'm the only one who can save Ginny, and I know it. I can feel it. If you lot go along and try to save her something'll go wrong. You can't do it."

"Potter," growled Moody, "rest assured Remus and I are much more highly qualified wizards than yourself. We can handle rescuing Miss Weasley much better than you could by yourself."

"Well, I'm not telling you anything until you agree to give me something to up my stamina and let me rescue her myself," he said. "Guess you're just out of luck."

“Imperio!” said Moody. Harry had just enough time to be shocked at Moody’s choice of actions before he felt the effects of the Unforgivable Curse setting in.

He let out a sigh of relief. He knew he would have to use a lot of energy to fight the blissfully blankness of his mind, but for now it felt wonderful. He didn’t have to worry about the Horcruxes, or Ginny and how he was going to rescue her when he couldn’t lift a finger without paralyzing pain shooting throughout his body�”

“Potter,” said Moody’s voice soothingly. Could Moody’s voice even sound soothing? Harry didn’t know, and he really didn’t care. “We need to know where Molly and Miss Weasley are.”

Suddenly, Harry felt angry. “No, you don’t,” he thought. “I’m the only one who needs to know.”

“Trust me, Potter, this is imperative to their lives. Especially to Ginny’s.”

Oh, so they’re going to play the Ginny card, he thought angrily. Did the not remember how effectively he could fight off the Imperious Curse? Or did they just think that his impaired state was going to weaken his mind? “No, it’s not. Don’t try and tell me otherwise.” He could feel Moody’s will harden, and the seemingly soothing tone dropped from his voice in an instant.

“You are much too young to go face Voldemort in an environment he has created to suit his needs. Tell us what you know, Potter, or we’ll force it from you.”

“No!” Harry yelled; he heard Moody mutter the counter curse, and felt the pain return to his body. “D’you think I don’t know what I’m supposed to do? Do you think I have no instinct, no natural feeling at all for what I’m supposedly destined for?”

“No, Harry, we actually think you know, somewhere, exactly what you need to do. But we don’t want it to happen,” said Mr. Weasley quietly. “You know what’s supposedly going to have to happen in the end, don’t you.”

Harry stayed quiet; yes, he knew what they were going for. They were trying to get him to admit that he was going to have to die to defeat Voldemort. They wanted him to say it out loud, to try and weaken him, so they would get answers from him about where Ginny was. “I can see through your tactics, Mr. Weasley.”

“Harry, don’t you see we just want you safe. We can save her much more effectively than you can.”

An unquenchable anger rose up inside Harry at those words, those lies. They knew he was going to die eventually anyway, and they just didn’t want him to make a blunder on the Order’s part. Mr. Weasley wanted to save his wife and daughter. It all came down to the fact that they didn’t trust him: at all. “I’m not telling you. You’re all always telling me how you can do stuff ‘so much more effectively’ than I can. Well, you’re doing a bloody good job, aren’t you? You can’t even find a single Death Eater by yourselves. I’m not telling you anything, so you might as well give up. I’m doing it myself.”

With that Moody and Mr. Weasley got up out of their seat and left. “We’ll leave you alone to rest,” said Moody gruffly. “Think about what we’ve said, and how much Molly and Ginny’s lives mean to you.” The door shut behind them with a snap, and Harry was left alone.

With nothing else to do, he looked around the room he had been placed in. He was lying down in a bed, propped up by pillows, in a room that looked like some where out of a Muggle hospital. There was sunlight streaming through a window that Harry recognized as the same magical ones they had in the Ministry. Everything was a blinding shade of white; even the door was painted ivory to match. In his room was a nightstand, four-poster bed made from cherry wood, a silver lamp, a desk complete with a chair, and a set of drawers.

He gingerly sat up and tried out his bodily functions. Yes, he could move his hands, fingers, arms, and neck. When he tried to stand up, however, his legs practically crumpled underneath him. He hastily dragged himself into his bed and sat there, pondering. Most of his body could move well, albeit with large amounts of pain. The only parts that seemed not to work were his legs. He rolled up one of his pant legs to look at them.

They looked as normal as ever; they were still the same size and shape, his knees still knobby. The only thing different, and Harry gasped when he saw it, was a thin, white scar running the length from his ankle to his knee. There was also one identical to it on his left leg. He assumed it had something to do with being splinched, but he couldn’t be sure. Had the Order done something to him while he had been sleeping? Surely they wouldn’t resort to Muggle means of extracting DNA and blood; they had much more effective means than that.

He ran his fingers along each of his scars, shivering as he touched them. The scar tissue wasn’t only recent�”it was magical. He could feel the residual energy magic left behind on whatever it was used on. Someone had changed him, somehow, while he had passed out from the splinching. Suddenly he caught a movement in the corner of his eye and spun around, gasping as a new wave of pain hit him.

Standing in a doorway unseen to Harry because of the limitations of his body was Minerva McGonagall. “Hello, Harry. I’m pleased to see that you are awake.”

“Why are you here?” he asked suspiciously. “Here to put me under another Unforgivable Curse?”

“Why, no, Mr. Potter, I am not,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “But I may have to resort to those means if I continue to receive this kind of disrespect.”

Harry shot her a look of disbelief. She was simply another member of the Order, sent here by them to force information out of him. “Oh, so you’re here with Veritaserum this time, then?”

“I am going to ignore that, as we don’t have time for your impertinence,” she said idly. “I disagreed with the way that Alastor and Arthur treated you. They told me their plans and what they were to resort to if something happened. While they were talking to you, I used the Remittomission Spell to communicate with Dumbledore. He says to give you a stamina potion and to send you on your way. I trust you know how to Apparate?”

“Yeah, but I’m not licensed yet,” he said, surprised that McGonagall was doing this for him.

“We have permission from the Ministry to give you a license without giving you the assessment. You are to Apparate to the Department of Mysteries at once, and from there go to where you believe Miss Weasley is being held,” she said urgently.

“I just have one question before I leave,” he said, ignoring her impatient glare. “Why do I have two identical scars, one on each leg, that I never had before?”?

“It’s a standard procedure to cure splinching. You got splinched rather badly, and were taken to St. Mungo’s for immediate cure. When someone is splinched as badly as you, there are often cuts upon the body parts splinched. You had two nasty cuts on your legs, which were the parts you were separated from. They cured it with magic, and it shouldn’t trouble you at all. Now, leave,” she said, handing him a cloudy mauve potion for him to drink.

He immediately gulped down the potion, feeling better instantly. He turned on his heel to Apparate, and heard McGonagall’s voice as the claustrophobic feeling of Apparation overtook him. “Good luck, Potter.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

When the feeling of being squeezed through a tube passed, Harry stood in the large, circular room that normally had several doors leading off into the different branches of the Department of Mysteries. This time, as in his dream, there was only one. He made his way forward and opened it. There’s no use in taking up too much time, he thought. I already know pretty much what’s ahead of me.

He closed the door behind him and heard the spinning of the circular room behind him. Obviously it didn’t care if there was one door or twenty, it was going to spin whether you liked it or not.

He looked around him; he was in a dark, clammy room, illuminated only by the occasional torch in the brackets on the side of the walls. Reaching up to get one off the wall, he found his hand meeting a resistance, and he felt the residue of magic on his fingertips. Obviously Voldemort doesn’t want to make it easy for me, he thought, but obviously he doesn’t know I’m saving Ginny even if it takes my life in the process.

He began walking quickly down the corridor, his footsteps echoing faintly off the stone walls. He tasted the residue of magic in the air, as well as felt it on his skin, but he told himself it didn’t mean anything. He was in the Ministry of Magic, afterall. He suddenly stopped; the orginal corridor split into three branches, one leading straight ahead, and the others leading diagonally to his left and right.

He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to get every detail from his fore dream about Ginny. The room had been dark and closed. There was no light apart from the flickering firelight of the torches. That explanation took out one of the paths, from which cold, fresh air and a faint white light were coming from. There were still two paths to choose from, however, and Harry hadn’t the slightest idea where to go from there.

He had a sudden idea. He walked a few paces and took a huge gulp of air. There was a slight resonance in it, but it didn’t seem quite as full of magic as the air in the last passage had. To confirm his thoughts, he took another gulp of air and choked for air instantly. The quantity and quality of the magical residue in the air had temporarily snatched his breath away from him. He knew, with an undoubtful certainty, which corridor held Ginny, and he ran down it, careful to keep his sprinting footsteps as quiet as possible.

After a few minutes, he clutched at the stitch in his chest and paused, leaning against a wall for support. He had been full-out sprinting for five minutes, and he was bone tired. There were to positive things, however. Due to the curve of the tunnel, and the transformation of the building materials from stone to a normal plaster wall, his footsteps no longer echoed through the corridor, alerting his enemy of his approach. Instead, he could hear the occaisional slight footsteps and soft chuckle of Voldemort, and he knew he was nearing the target. After resting for a minute or so, he put a Disillusionment Charm on himself, and walked as quietly as he could towards the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, deperately hoping the Voldemort could not see through Disillusionment Charms.

He unsheathed his wand quietly as he peered around the bend, and he had to keep control of himself so as to not yell out loud with anger.

Ginny was laying on a cold, stone table, her eyelids flickering open and shut, open and shut, continuously. Her fingers twitched feebly in what was clearly an enchanted sleep. Rough, yet unfraying cords bound her to the table, cutting cruely into her flesh. Her hair was splayed out behind her, unlike in his dream, where it had been tied up in an elastic. She was deathly pale, and Harry could see the purplish-blue blood running through he veins, along with a slow and unsteady pulse through the carotid artery in her neck. In the corner, Voldemort was sitting in a grand leather armchair, his back to a roaring fire in a grate that looked as if, until that moment, it had lain in disuse for many years. He was idly twirling his wand between his fingers, looking at it as lovingly as a mother looks at her child. His pet snake, Nagini, was basking in front of the fire, looking like a twisted version of a family pet in front of a fire on a Christmas holiday.

Suddenly Nagini sat up, her tongue flickering in and out of her mouth as if in rhythm with some unheard song. “What is it, my pet?” asked Voldemort in his high, cruel voice. Though Harry could understand what he was saying, he knew few others would comprehend the language of Parseltongue that Voldemort was speaking.

Nagini replied back, hissing and spitting, until Voldemort reached down to stroke her, sickingly soothingly. “You mean our rigged portkey had no effect on him? Surely they were all splinched, him the worse, and the adults wouldn’t let him out on his own, hurt like that.”

“It didn’t work, somehow or another, he’s standing outside the entrance, listening, and watching. He is angry, very angry, and he wants to save this…girl,” spat Nagini in her cool, slithering voice that was not unlike her scales.

“Very well,” said Voldemort, a malevolent smile twisting his already-creepy features. “Go kill him. No, actually, bring him in here. I want to see him beg to trade his life for the girl’s. I want him to watch her die; I want it to destroy him. And then, when she’s dead, I will kill him. Not with the usual avada kedavra. It will be painful. As painful as I can imagine.”

Harry’s mouth went dry as he heard his�”and Ginny’s�”fate. He Re-Illusioned himself and waited for Nagini to some around the corner. He already had a plan formulating in his mind, and he tensed up, ready to strike. He was severely hoping that he was skilled enough at non-verbal spells to pull it off.

He heard her coming around the corner; her dryly slithering scales were more than enough to give her away. As she came around the corner, Harry fiercly thought, “Sectumsempra!”

There was a slashing sound, and Harry gasped as Nagini was cut in half by the power of his non-verbal spell. Hermione would have been proud. There was a clatter as one of the wands in the other room was dropped to the ground, and Voldemort dashed into the room, wand out. Harry had the advantage of surprise, and thought, “Sectumsempra!” once more. It didn’t have the same effect as id had on Nagini, but it was enough to send Voldemort to his knees, gasping for breath and clutching at the blood running down his chest. He healed himself with his wand and attempted to stand up, fighting against fainting. “Stupefy!” Harry yelled, hitting him with a brilliant jet of red light in the chest, where he was most weak at that moment. Not waiting to see how long Voldemort was out, Harry grabbed the now-dead Nagini and raced into the room, vanishing the cords binding Ginny. He went to pick up her wand from the floor, but found it was not her’s�”it was Voldemort’s.

So that’s why he wasn’t strong enough to kill me right as he came into the passage, thought Harry. He’s had two Horcruxes destroyed by Dumbledore, and a lot more of his power is in his wand as is in him.

He ran into the corridor, grabbed Ginny’s wand, and threw Voldemort’s on the floor. He went into the room, grabbed Nagini’s corpse and Ginny, and turned on his heel, Apparating out of the room.

He was so relieved to be safe, for the time being, that he had forgotten one crucial item lieing on the floor by Voldemort’s broken body.

He had left Voldemort the most deadly weapon in his possession. He still had his wand.

Harry collapsed on a surprisingly soft carpet in a dark room, and cried out as a body and two halves of a snake fell on top of his bruised and battered form. Suddenly a flickering light, which Harry would have recognized as a candle if he had been completely conscious at the time, burst in on his quietness, along with a vaguely familiar voice.

"What are you doing in the drawing room, Ginny?" it asked. "Harry, why are you both covered in blood? And why is there a severed snake on my clean floors?" The voice turned malevolent at Harry’s name, and for some reason Mrs. Weasley came to mind, though he couldn’t remember why.

"Ginny!" the voice yelled. "Answer me this instant!" Then a silence of realization came across the woman’s face, and she Apparated upstairs with a pop, where Harry could hear her shrieks. "Arthur, Remus, wake up! Harry and Ginny are downstairs, and they’re covered in blood with a dead snake with them!"

Suddenly the sound of shoes clogging down the stairs jolted Harry back to semi-awareness, and he was vaguely aware of someone opening the door. "Harry, can you hear me?" asked a voice that may or may not have been Remus Lupin’s asked him. When Harry made a noncommittal noise in his throat, he felt himself being picked up and set on a sofa. "Are you okay? Do you need something?" the voice asked again.

"I hurt all over," he said through gritted teeth. "I can barely talk, the pain is so bad."

"Get him some stamina, bruise healing, and blood clotting potions," said the voice that was probably Mr. Weasley, now that Harry could see him. "Do you need anything else, Harry?"

"Something to eat and drink would be nice," he admitted, flinching as Mrs. Weasley gave him an evil look.

"Molly, could you get those for him?" asked Lupin, smiling humorously. "I know you don’t want to, but I’m sure it’s imperative to the Order that we hear what Harry has to say." She bustled out of the room, giving Lupin and her husband withering sidelong glances as she passed through the door.

Seconds later she reappeared, holding a tea tray with four beakers of potion. "Here you are. I’ll be back with drinks and sandwiches," she said, not looking him in the eyes and shoving the tray into his hands. She burst out of the room, closing the door with a loud snap behind her.

Mr. Weasley rolled his eyes. "Maybe she’ll change her mind if she hears what you’ve done," he said hopefully. It didn’t sound as if he really believed it would happen.

"Harry, we need to know what happened," said Lupin quietly. "I know it may have had something to do with what you did with Dumbledore last year, but we need to know. It is, as I have said, imperative."

Harry nodded once more, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "You already knew about my fore dream with Ginny and Voldemort in it, right?" He paused as they nodded with agreement, and then continued. "I Apparated into the Department of Mysteries to make sure what I saw didn’t come true. Normally, in the circular revolving room there are about ten doors or so. This time there was only one." He stopped abruptly as Lupin held up his hand to silence him.

"There was only one door. In the entrance room to the Department of Mysteries," he said, looking grave. "Are you sure�”are you absolutely positive?"

Harry looked at him and said slowly, "Yeah. I looked all around, and I would have noticed another door sticking out of the wall, wouldn’t I?"

"And you Apparated into the Department of Mysteried? You're absolutely sure?" Harry nodded, and Lupin put his head in his hands. "Anyway, go on with your story."

Harry looked at him curiously and then continued, assuming he’d get an answer to Lupin’s despair when he was finished talking. "Okay. I went through the door and ran down a corridor. It was made out of a really rough stone, with torches in brackets to light the way. After a while I heard voices, so I used a DisIllusionment Charm and looked around the corner. All of a sudden there was an open door leading into a room that looked nothing like the corridor. It was really elegant, with a hearth and tables and chairs and everything. Almost like either the Ministry didn’t know it was there, or they had forgotten about it a long time ago."

He paused to look at Lupin, who was slowly sighing and shaking his head. He looked up when he noticed Harry had stopped. "Please ignore my distress and continue, Harry. You’ll get the meaning of it all in the end."

Harry nodded, satisfied, and continued. "I saw Ginny, tied onto a table in an enchanted sleep. Well, that’s what it looked like anyway. Her hands were twitching and her eyelids were fluttering, so it couldn’t have been natural. Voldemort was just sitting in front of the fire with his snake, Nagini. Then she told him, in Parseltongue of course, that I was standing there listening to him. She was to drive me in there to him, I suppose. At any rate, Voldemort told her not to kill me. He wanted me to watch Ginny die, and he said he would torture me until I died watching her. He wanted me to beg to save her.

"Nagini came out, and I knew I had to do something, so I used a non-verbal spell. The one that I used on Malfoy last year without knowing what it did. Sectumsempra. It was really powerful, and it cut the snake in half; I hadn’t expected it to work at all. I guess I had the element of surprise, because when Voldemort came in, I used Sectumsempra again. He tried to heal himself, and that’s when I stunned him," said Harry, taking a deep breath. "I vanished the cords holding down Ginny, grabbed her, my wand, and the two parts of Nagini, and Apparated away. That’s pretty much what happened," he ended.

It took Lupin a few minutes to speak, but the thought of the information he might hear kept Harry patient. When Lupin finally sat up, rigid in what was an extremely comfortable chair, Harry was looking at him intensely.

"Harry, you have to know that what you did was wonderful. So don’t get me wrong if I criticize you or anything,” said Lupin, taking Harry aback. Lupin never criticized him, or was sharp with him. Harry wondered if something was wrong, but thought it impolite to interrupt. “I think you need to know the facts about what happened and why, and what mistakes you made, so you don’t make them again.”

Harry nodded, but nevertheless, anger rose up inside of him. Who was Lupin, who sat at home while people were in danger, to tell him that he was making mistakes? He had rescued Ginny and brought home a Horcrux, but yet they still didn’t appreciate. He almost sneered and retorted his thoughts, but then he remembered something. Snape had done the exact same thing to Sirius when Dumbledore had forced Sirius to stay inside the house. Those remarks were part of the reason why Sirius had rushed into the Ministry to try and save Harry. Those remarks were partially the cause of Sirius’ death.

It seemed to Harry that Lupin was able to sense what was going on in his mind, because he said sternly, “There are more jobs for people in this Order to do than running along after you while you risk your life trying to gather these Horcruxes. Yes, what you are doing is important, but it is not the most important thing to the Order at this point in time. You would do well to remember that, Harry.”

Harry ducked his head, chastised, and unable to look Lupin in the eyes. It was the first time that Lupin had ever corrected him, and he was right. He was not the most important person here; by thinking that, he was becoming just as arrogant as Snape or Malfoy. But Harry was still taken aback by the hard edge and sterness in Lupin's voice. “I apologize. I realize that I am not the most important person here. I’m just a little…frustrated right now.”

Lupin nodded and accepted his apology. “Now, why don’t we start with the mystery of the single door in the revolving room of the Department of Mysteries? With a simple spell, the Department of Mysteries can be sealed off so that the only thing ‘outsiders’ will see or have access to is a long, stone corridor, and an elegant room, as you described. Because you know what the Department of Mysteries normally looks like, you knew it wasn’t as it was supposed to be. However, the heads of the department formulated that measure long ago to ensure the safety of their secrets should someone who was not wanted gained entry to the revolving room. Which,” Lupin added, “is the so-called ‘atrium’ to the entire department. However, there is another explanation to why you could Apparate. Voldemort must have used an extremely powerful spell to do this, but I believe he may have been luring you. I think he was surprised that you didn't rush in boldly to save Ginny. What I am most concerned about right now, though, is the spell that seaks off the Department of Mysteries”

“So that means,” Harry cut in, “that either Voldemort some how knew about the spell or forced it out of somebody, right?”

“Well, in essentials, yes,” said Lupin wearily. “But there is a much more unfortunate possibility. There is a chance, no matter how small, that Voldemort has a spy either in or close to the Department of Mysteries. Of course, they choose the people who work their according to their trust, loyalty, and experience, but it is possible that someone worked up trust and experience and faked loyalty to get in and spy for Voldemort. Either that or someone close to someone who worked there was spying for Voldemort, and pried the information out of them.”

“But how did Voldemort get into the Department of Mysteries without anyone seeing him?” asked Harry, puzzled as to how the most wanted wizard in the world could walk into the Ministry of Magic unnoticed.

“Well, I would have hoped that the Ministry had better security then this, especially since it was mid-morning at the time,” said Lupin dryly. “There are several possibilities, though. He might have used Polyjuice Potion, Felix Felicius, Shrouding Potion, or any number of different potions to make him invisible or unnoticed. He could have used an invisibility cloak. Or perhaps, he used a mass Confundus Charm that wouldn’t allow anyone who had seen him to realize it.”

Harry cursed. “How could the Ministry be so careless? I mean, Voldemort walks in on a sunny mid-afternoon and they just let him in?” He was seething; how was the Order supposed to defeat Voldemort if he knew he could just stroll into the Ministry any day he wanted to, unchallenged?

“Harry, you cannot blame them,” said Lupin gently. “Well, not much, anyway. Voldemort could have used any number of powerful enchantments causing the people who work there to dismiss his presence.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry mumbled.

Lupin sighed. “Now we need to get to what you actually did at the Ministry. So, after you got Ginny, killed Nagini, and stunned Voldemort, what did you do?”

Harry looked at Lupin suspiciously. It sounded like a trick question, but he knew he had to answer it anyway. “I grabbed Ginny and the snake’s body and Apparated away. Why?”

Lupin shook his head. “You made a very elementary mistake, Harry, but don’t take this the wrong way. Did you ever think of stealing Voldemort’s wand while he was unconscious and he was under your control? Obviously you knew you wouldn’t be able to kill him then and there, but you could have taken away one of his most powerful weapons, am I right?”

Harry’s cheeks burned red. Of course he should have thought of stealing Voldemort’s wand! How much easier would the Order’s plight to save the wizarding world be if Voldemort didn’t have his original wand with him? And, despite what Lupin had said, he didn’t even think about killing Voldemort. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have thought about the fact that Voldemort was still stronger than him, even when he was stunned. And why was Lupin still being so harsh with him? Maybe Harry was imagining it, but he thought he saw a shadow of sadness behind Lupin's eyes. “No, I never thought about that, but at least I brought home Ginny and a Horcrux and stayed alive during the process! Isn’t that good enough for you?”

The room was quiet for a few minutes after Harry’s outburst. He knew he shouldn’t have shouted, and that it was obvious that he should have taken Voldemort’s wand, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Especially not when he had already had to apologize once to Lupin already that afternoon. He looked up when Lupin began to speak again.

“I am going to ignore the fact that you just showed he complete and utter disrespect. You cannot do this alone, Harry, and I suggest that you make friends instead of enemies among the Order, or risk losing the ones you already have.” When Harry didn’t say anything, Lupin continued. “Now, lets talk about the Horcrux. You make a good point; you brought home a Horcrux and saved Ginny. But is that Horcrux really a Horcrux? Was it something so obvious that Voldemort never would have thought to use it as a Horcrux, or did he use it assuming that we would never think of it as a Horcrux? In other words, how do we know whether or not it is a fake to ensure we don’t risk our lives as Dumbledore did.”

“But when Snape was under Veritaserum, he told us that Nagini was one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes,” Harry argued. “He couldn’t have lied under the dosage we gave him.”

“Ah, but there’s always a catch to Veritaserum,” said Lupin, smiling despite the situation. “If you believed, for example, that the sky was purple, and I put you under Veritaserum and asked you what color the sky was, you would say ‘purple’.”

“But that’s impossible! Veritaserum is truth serum!” said Harry skeptically.

“But you could truthfully answer ‘purple’, because you believed it was true,” said Lupin. “Snape could have said Nagini because he thought it was true, but Voldemort could have just as easily lied to him in case Dumbledore interrogated Snape later.”

“But wasn’t Snape Voldemort’s right-hand-man?” asked Harry, not willing to throw away the hope of finding his first Horcrux. “Wouldn’t Voldemort have told Snape pretty much everything?”

Lupin frowned. “You do make a point, so I am going to ask you something, Harry.” He looked at his hands for a moment as if arguing with himself, but then looked up at Harry again. “Do you believe that Nagini is a Horcrux?”

“Why does it matter whether or not I think it is? Does it make a difference if somehow we find out she isn’t?”

“Yes, it does, actually. The spell used to confirm whether or not something is a Horcrux goes down to the identificational level, which is a thousand times deeper than the molecular level that Muggles use. It practically rips apart the identity of an object, going as far as it can without destroying the object itself. As you can see, anything having a connection to this object would feel the intense, and perhaps even fatal, pain that object was going to. If Voldemort didn’t have a segment of his soul in Nagini and he was emotionally attached to her, he would feel the pain her corpse’s identity was going through. It could be enough to lead him here, to Grimmauld Place. We would not have enough time to evacuate and set up a new, secure headquarters before he destroyed us.”

“And what happens if it is a Horcrux?” asked Harry.

“The soul fragment will be destroyed instantly. Voldemort will be going through mortal pain, and won’t be able to pick up our location,” explained Lupin. “So I ask you once again, do you truly believe that Nagini is a Horcrux.

Harry suddenly felt a wave of assurance that Nagini was a Horcrux. Unbidden, words fell out of his mouth to Lupin. “I believe that Nagini is a Horcrux.” He paused. “Truly.”

Lupin gave him a strange look as if, for a second time, he guessed what had been going on in Harry’s mind. “So be it.”

As Lupin made his way across the room to Nagini’s corpse, there was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” he said, frustrated.

Standing the flickering candlelight with a platter precariously full of sandwiches and a flagon of Butterbeer was Mrs. Weasley.

She dropped the platter on the table with a clang, sending droplets of Butterbeer and random sandwiches flying askew, and grasped him in a bone-breaking hug. When she broke away, Harry stared at her coldly. “Well, do you believe in my talents now that I used them to save your daughter’s life: again?” he asked.

Tears began to run down her face. “Harry, dear, let me explain myself. Please.” He nodded for her to go on, and she continued. “When Ginny came home this summer I knew something was wrong, and I knew it had to do with you. She started crying every time you were mentioned. I assumed that you had led her to believe that you loved her, and then broke her heart. Inside I think I knew you would never do that, but at the time I wanted to do everything I could to protect and heal Ginny. I started making comments about you, and when you came here, I was horribly mad at you. I was completely blind; I was more foolish than I have ever been in my entire life. I think everything I did to you made Ginny feel worse, especially since she still loved you. But I have to know, Harry: why did you break up with Ginny when you claimed to love her so much?”

Harry answered immediately. “I broke up with her because I didn’t want Voldemort to hurt her because he knew I was attached to her. In my second year he used her against me, and that was when she was just my best mate’s little sister. And look how he used her once we got back together this summer! She almost died because I was too selfish to just ignore her, knowing it would save her life.” He shook his head. “Now I realize that I’m going to have to break up with her for real. In the position I’m in, he’ll kill her next time, just to hurt me, and she’ll never have a chance.”

Lupin, who had been standing in the corner by the snake impatiently, suddenly looked at Harry warmly. “Harry, she knows what she’s risking.”

Harry looked at him like he was insane. “Are you kidding me? She got captured and almost killed because we were together again! He’ll just keep trying to use her against me, over and over again.”

“Actually, I don’t think he will,” said Lupin reasonably. “I mean, this time he lost his sole companion and was injured and stunned by you in your rage to get Ginny back. I don’t think he’s in a hurry to try it again. Also, now that Ginny has actually been in the situation where her life is at stake, I think she’ll be a lot more careful with her choices from now on.”

“It’s always a risk to have a relationship in times like these, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley kindly. “But if you truly love her, I’d say it’s worth it. Isn’t it, Remus?”

Lupin blushed and muttered something inaudible. Harry assumed he and Mrs. Weasley were talking about his relationship with Tonks. Then he started to speak audibly again. “Harry, if we are going to do this, we are going to have to do this now.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

Lupin looked over at Mrs. Weasley who was listening to their conversation with increasing curiosity, and explained the situation to her. “Molly, are you and Arthur going to stay in here while we do this?”

It was Mr. Weasley, who had long remained silent, who replied, “Yes, I think so, don’t you agree, Molly?” Mrs. Weasley nodded her approval.

“I think it would be good to have a couple of people on standby, just in case something goes wrong,” agreed Lupin. “Well, here goes.”

He positioned himself in front of the snake with his arms held out, eyes closed. It seemed as if he was gathering strength for some immense effort. Finally, he spoke. “Horlencia!”

The corpse of Nagini thrashed and rolled on the floor, flinging drops of snake blood and venom flying. Lupin was frowning in concentration, and his forehead was breaking out in tiny beads of sweat. A sound like a great wind passing through the room made the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand up. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

“Well,” said Lupin wearily. “It’s a Horcrux.”