"Harry… Harry, what are you doing?" Ron turned around to face Harry, who had just ducked behind Ron with a look of dread etched across his face.
"Turn back around, he'll see me!" Harry spun Ron back around and stood still, fitting well behind Ron with vertical room to spare. Ron frowned and began to ask Harry who he was hiding from when Scrimgeour, the new and incredibly annoying Minister of Magic walked up, looking around thoughtfully.
"Hello Weasley, I was wondering if you had seen Harry around lately? I was hoping to have a short word with him…"
Ron stood completely still, doing his best to hide Harry behind his lanky body. "Oh, no Minister, I haven't seen him at all. Why don't you go ask my mum over there, I'm sure she's-" But before Ron could finish, Scrimgeour ran off across the freshly mown lawn to find Mrs. Weasley, and hopefully a clue to were Harry had happened to.
"Twitchy bloke isn't he, Harry?" remarked Ron, turning around to face Harry again. "Not sure if Bill even invited him…"
It was the middle of June, and Bill and Fleur had just tied the knot at the Burrow, which for the day had been converted to an enormous outdoor palace. It was made complete with marble columns, an ice statue of Bill and Fleur that never melted, and an array of strange French foods, of which included plenty of rare steak for Bill. Ron had never seen so many flowers in his life, from Fleur's dress, made almost completely of Tiger Lilies, to the flower-laden wedding cake. He had acted as Bill's Best Man, since the previously asked Fred and George were both suffering from a mishap involving some Puking Pastels and a deranged Pygmy Puff. Percy had refused his invite to the wedding, having recently reopened his fight with Mr. Weasley, and had no intention of seeing him. Mrs. Weasley spent an hour before the wedding pacing Fleur's dressing room over it, but refused to shed a single tear over the matter. Charlie was stuck in Romania with a very large dragon problem, but had promised not to miss the cutting of the cake, which he was very close to doing.
"Harry!" Hermione ran up to Ron and Harry, looking pretty in her bright blue Bride's Maid dress and clutching Fleur's bouquet, which she had caught earlier that day. Ron smiled at her, and she smiled back before turning to Harry. "I saw Scrimgeour running around a while ago, has he been looking for you?"
Ron cleared his throat noisily and stepped forward slightly. "Yeah, he came looking for Harry, but I fended Scrimgeour off, the lousy git". Ron looked at Harry encouragingly and gave him a not-so-discrete nudge in the arm.
"Oh, Ron told him, he did. Yeah." Harry coughed and looked at Ron, who smiled approvingly.
"Well good, it's about time someone told Scrimgeour how invasive he's being." Hermione looked over her shoulder quickly, then continued. "Ron, Harry, I've got something to tell you", she said in a quiet voice. "I think I've figured something out. About R.A.B".
Ron looked from Hermione to Harry, fearing he would get angry she had brought up the subject. They hadn't spoken of those three foreboding initials since the day Harry had revealed the note found in the false Horcrux to the two of them, almost two months earlier. They had both noticed that Harry had been doing his best to keep his mind off of the Horcruxes until after the wedding was over, but Ron had awoken at night many times to hear Harry muttering 'the locket…the cup…something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's... the locket…the cup… something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's…' in his sleep.
"Come on", urged Hermione, "I know where we can talk. Ginny made sure the woodshed stayed standing when Fleur was turning everything to flowers, she's got Arnold stashed in there for the time being. Let's go".
"So, you're sure? You really think it's him?" Harry leaned forward, almost toppling off of an old crate full of Mr. Weasley's plug collection.
"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? Regulus's uncle was Alphard, he was the one who left 12 Grimmauld Place to Sirius you know, so Regulus's full name could have been Regulus Alphard Black. Don't you think?" Hermione was holding Arnold, who was chewing on her discarded bouquet, and tugging on a piece of hair that had fallen from her bun.
"Hermione, there could be a million people in the world with the initials R.A.B. There's no way of knowing that Regulus was the one who took the Horcrux." Ron was sitting next to Hermione on the ground, drawing images of broomsticks in the blanket of dust covering the old wooden floor.
"No, but half of those people are going to be muggles, a quarter of them don't know what a Horcrux even is, and the rest don't address Voldemort- Ron, stop whimpering,- as the Dark Lord. It all fits together." Hermione placed Arnold in Ron's lap and got up, pacing what little empty ground there was left in the shed.
"Aw, Hermione, no, I hate this thing!" Ron shoved the squealing pygmy puff out of his lap and sent him rolling aimlessly across the ground, collecting dust in his purple fur as he went. Just then, the door to the small woodshed opened slightly and Ginny's bright red hair appeared in the opening.
"What are you three doing in here? Mum's looking- ARNOLD!" Ginny ran into the shed and picked up the whirling pygmy, stroking him on what could have been said was his back. "It's ok Arnold, mummy's here, don't worry…" Ginny went and sat next to Harry on another crate full of plugs and set Arnold down next to her. "So, what are you talking about that's so secret?"
Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, each not knowing if they should fill Ginny in. Ron knew it was still painful for Harry to speak to Ginny, though he hid it well. And he knew that if they told Ginny that they knew who took the Horcrux, Ginny would want to come along to find it.
"Ginny, we think we know who took the locket from the cave. It's… it's Regulus, Ginny. Sirius's brother." Harry scratched Arnold behind his non-existent ears, trying to disregard Ron's grimace. He couldn't keep something from Ginny, it just wasn't right.
"Well, that makes sense! And, Harry, that big locket, the one we couldn't open in Grimmauld Place? That could be it, couldn't it?" Ginny looked from Harry to Hermione, grinning.
Harry stood up, rocking the crate Ginny and Arnold were perched on. "You're right, Ginny. I have to go right now! What if Dung's taken the locket, it'll take forever to track down! And then I have to figure out how to open it, let alone destroy it completely, and…" Ginny stood up and put her hands on Harry's shoulders, steadying him. "Harry, calm down. You don't have to do anything on your own, Ron and Hermione will be with you all the way. And I will too".
Harry shook his head, turning away. "Ginny, you can't come, it's too dangerous! I don't want anything to happen to you."
Ginny let go of Harry, exasperated. "When will you stop treating me like this?" She turned to Ron. "Do I look like I can't handle myself? Do I?" Ron shook his head, afraid of what would happen if he didn't. "Harry, let me come, I want to help. I can help."
Harry turned back around, looking Ginny in the eyes. "Ginny… please, you have to understand… if you came, and anything happened to you… if you were killed… I'd never forgive myself."
Hermione cleared her throat noisily. "Well, Ron, I think I hear Fleur cutting the cake, why don't we both go get some?" Hermione went over to Ron's spot on the floor and grabbed his hand, pulling him up and dragging him out the door. "Wait, how can you hear Fleur cutting cake… Hermione, ow! You're squeezing my hand!" Hermione nodded to the two of them and closed the door with a bang, leaving Harry and Ginny alone to talk.
Ginny watched the two go and sighed, sinking back down onto the dusty crate. "Harry, you just have to trust me to care of myself. As much as you may hate to hear me say this, I don't need you to protect me. I… I love you, but you don't have to watch over me all the time". Ginny got up and walked over to Harry. "I'm coming, Harry. You need my help." She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, then left the small dusty woodshed, closing the door softly behind her.
Harry pulled his hand out of his pocket, where it had spent much of its time over the past few months, and fingered the fake golden locket, a reminder of the large task he had to complete. "Well Arnold," he said, looking over at the squealing pygmy puff, "I guess Ginny's coming. No arguing with her now, is there?"