The funeral of Albus Dumbledore had not been a quiet affair.

Almost every living witch and wizard that had been taught by the old man, and even a sizeable amount that hadn't had gathered within the grounds of Hogwarts and all sat in black with their heads bowed low as Aberfoth Dumbledore read a few kind words. The grounds were dark on the July night, but were lit up with thousands of candles that floated in the sky silently. Harry sat wedged in between Dean and Hermione, with Hermione's head on his shoulder, and his arm around her. He looked up to the darkness of the Hospital Wing where his other best friend currently was, looking after his oldest brother.

"I did not always get on with my brother," Aberfoth barked out in his raspy, dry voice. "I rarely spoke to him, and when I did, it was often to insult him. Many of you with younger brothers will know what I'm talking about." His voice hitched slightly. "I'm 162 years old in a month, and I expected to die long before my brother Albus did. While you may refuse to admit it, as you only saw him from the public eye, much like everybody else he was a flawed human being."

"Now I will not go into the specifics of why I say that, as they are family matters." Aberfoth continued. "I wish I had told him how proud I was of his unbelievable achievements, and I wish I told him how much I envied him. He had an Order of Merlin. I have a pub. He was the leader of the ICW, and I ran a blackjack club. I will never, and have never lived up to the unmatchable standards my brother lived up to, and quite frankly if anybody says they have they can come and see me."

There was a smattering of light applause and sniffles as Aberfoth walked off the raised platform. Minerva McGonagall walked up as he walked off and they hugged briefly before she stood at the podium, wiping her eyes.

"I think we all expected Albus Dumbledore to outlive us all, if I'm honest," she joked lightly, sending a small sad chuckle through the crowd of thousands. "I remember him teaching me transfiguration from fourth year to graduation, and when I came to work for him as a teacher, he looked not one day older." She took a breath. "He most likely would have outlived us all, if he had not been so cruelly taken from us. Severus Tobias Snape. The traitor. The Death Eater. A man our friend trusted, A man I trusted, killed him." She broke down sobbing at this point, and Flitwick hugged her waist comfortingly.

She smiled down at him kindly, through a mask of tears. The other teachers all joined her on the stand silently, wearing mixed faces of distress, and being somber. Even Sybil Trelawney looked uncharacteristically mournful. Together, as one, the faculty of Hogwarts put to rest their beloved friend and colleague, Albus Dumbledore, in a tomb of white marble. Buried with his wand and favourite purple robes, the thick, heavy slabs closed in and finally buried the Leader of the Light.

Hermione let out a sob Ito Harry's shoulder, and Harry squeezed her tighter. There was a resounding boom as the stone settled into place, almost like a full stop on the life of Dumbledore. Like the end of a chapter in Harry's life. Hermione had started full on crying, as had many others in the crowd, and Harry cradled her close to him.

"No more," he whispered to himself. "No. More."


Harry walked up to the Hospital Wing, with Hermione in tow. She had cried herself dry, and whilst her eyes were red and her makeup had been dabbed away with tissues, no tears fell. She had none left. Harry embraced her in one last hug outside the doors of the Hospital Wing, tucking the top oh her head under his chin.

"This war," Hermione croaked, "It's real now, isn't it."

Harry didn't answer for a second, before moving his head in the affirmative. "Yes it is. And when you, Ron and I get alone after this, I need to tell you something. Something which could possibly end it."

Hermione pulled away and looked up into his eyes, and Harry's heart stopped as her wonderful chocolate eyes looked straight through him. "Whatever it is, Harry, I'm with you." She sniffed before pulling away suddenly and flattening out her skirt and top, as if she had just realised how long she had been hugging Harry for. "And Ron will be too." she said surely.

They pushed the doors open and Ron turned to look at them a sad smile on his face. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it," he said.

"It's not your fault at all," Harry assured him, "You don't need to worry about it. How's Bill?"

Ron looked truly depressed for a moment and beckoned them towards him. Harry had a strong feeling if he spoke he would cry, and didn't pressure him to answer. He absentmindedly pulled Hermione by the hand close to the bed with him. Ron pulled the curtain aside, and they saw the hospitalised Weasley.

Fleur looked like she had passed out on his chest holding his hand, and while she was asleep, Bill was wide awake.

"Heya," he tried to get out. He looked remarkably undamaged, but Harry realised he couldn't see the rest of his face. He didn't want to. He wanted to run so far away and never come back but he didn't. He stayed.

"Hi, Bill." Hermione said kindly, closely followed by Harry. "How are you?"

Bill turned to look at them and they saw the other half of his face. If it could be called that. His skin had been completely torn off and all of the inner workings of his face were visible. The tendons and muscles that operated his jaw looked like pistons in his mouth as he opened it to talk. "What do you think?" He snapped, before sighing. "I apologise. It isn't your fault I look like bloody two-face."

Hermione snorted slightly at that and the half of Bills face that could smiled. "Yeah, Tonks laughed at that as well. No-one else seems to get it though. I guess no-one else reads muggle comics."

At that point the door burst open, and Bill craned his neck, hoping with all his heart to see the horned-rimmed glasses of his missing brother, who had abandoned the family for the Ministry.

He was sadly disappointed.

A burly man with sandy blonde hair and a bald dark-skinned man of about twenty burst in. "Bill?" The bald man asked feverishly.

"In here, Wes." Bill croaked, a smile returning to his face at the sight of his two best friends.

Harry backed away from the bed. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you, Bill."

Bill looked at him, hard. "Don't you ever be sorry. I did this for the war, and I did this because I believed in the fight. This is not your fault Harry, and neither is Dumbledore's death." He looked down at the sleeping beauty on his chest. "And if she'll still have me, I expect to see you at my wedding come next month. Got it?"

Harry managed a smile. "Got it."

Harry, Hermione and Ron left Bill to talk with his friends, and after a hug from a tears Molly, and a shaken Arthur, they were on their way to the Room of Requirment. After walking past the portrait three times a door opened into a perfect replica of the Gryffindor common room, except the red was replaced with a deep, royal purple. Harry sat down on an armchair, and Ron and Hermione sat on their own respective seats. The roaring fire stood at the sentry of the back wall, and all three chairs looked into it. Harry fished into his pocket and withdrew a golden locket and placed it on an oak table in front of them.

"Dumbledore and I were hunting for Horcruxes," Harry explained to the confused looks of Ron and Hermione. "Fucking Horcruxes," Harry chuckled darkly. "Disgusting, vile, evil things that a dark wizard creates to achieve immortality."

"That's impossible," Ron said. "Isn't it? I mean without a Philosopher's Stone the oldest a wizard can live to is 220."

Hermione nodded. "I'm with Ron on this one, but I get the feeling your going to tell us different."

Harry looked up at them. "Through an act of pure evil, something despicable, like murder or rape, combined with the correct spell and the caster physically tears his soul apart."

The two gasped in horror.

"The user then puts their soul, or rather the shredded half of it, into an object, and typically hides the object away so no-one can destroy it." Harry shuddered. "That's how he survived on Halloween. That's why he's here now.

"Do you know what it is?" Hermione asked.

"What it is?" Harry asked back. "Or what they are?"

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. "He didn't!" She squeaked.

Harry nodded and Ron gulped. "How many times?"

"We think six, and we have no idea what three are." Harry stated.

"What are the first three?" Ron asked. "The ones you do know."

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out the destroyed diary of Tom Riddle and planted it on the table next to the locket? He then pulled out a cracked and broken ring, and lay it beside the diary.

"Have those two been destroyed?" Hermione asked. "I mean besides the diary."

Harry pushed the ring and diary towards Hermione. "The ring has," Harry stated. "But we just got this last night." Harry picked up the locket and inspected it, before looking up at the two of them. "I'm going to open it, OK?"

"Harry are you thick, you silly twat?" Ron hissed. "That has a peice of Voldemort's fucking soul inside it."

Harry looked at Ron a slight smile on his face, and propped it open. He flinched back slightly and saw Ron and Hermione do the same, but to his shock, a moulding, old peice of paper dropped out without fanfare.

Harry frowned, and picked it up. Ron and Hermione shuffled closer.

To the Dark Lord,

I know I shall be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B

Harry didn't recognise the elegant and fine handwriting but he knew that this wasn't the real Horcrux. He roared in anger and grabbed the table, throwing it into the fire. Hermione silently summoned the ring and diary out of the fire as Harry threw a chair the length of the room.

"It was for nothing?!" He raged. "Dumbledore died for absolutely fucking nothing!?"

Harry punched the wall so hard he felt his hand break and he slid to the floor crying for his dead mentor, his broken hand lying forgotten at his side. Ron and Hermione rushed to him and sat beside him, comforting him.

"It was for nothing," he whispered, tears rolling down his face. Hermione hugged him tightly as Ron healed his hand.

"We'll find it together." Hermione breathed into his ear, and then repeated louder for Rom to hear. "We'll find it together. And the rest of them. How did you destroy that ring Harry?"

Harry sniffled and shrugged. "Dumbledore did it. Never told me how. That's what caused his bloody skin disease though. That ring."

Ron sat down cross legged in front of him and handed him the note and locket which had fallen to the ground. "We can do this, Harry. We will do this."

"This war can't end unless we do this."


Harry slept the journey of the Hogwarts Express and awoke at Kings Cross station to Hermione's gentle voice.

"We're almost there, Harry." She said lightly and when Harry opened his eyes, he almost started crying again. The sad, sad look on her beautiful face broke his heart.

"Hermione," he said, reaching out and stroking her face with his hand. "What's happened?"

She leant into his hand and sighed. "Ron and I were talking while you were asleep, and we agreed the best course of action would be to alter my parents memories and hide them under a Fidelius charm in another country."

"Oh 'Mione," Harry stood up and pulled her into a hug as she started to cry. "If we do do this, and you do want to come I will help you in whichever way I can. I think the country move and Fidelius would be enough without the memory charm if we can get them to agree to it."

"I can't be a secret keeper, Harry," Hermione said frantically, looking panicked. "What if we're captured and they torture me. I don't want to give them up!"

Harry held both her hands in his. "Listen to me 'Mione. If they capture you they don't need to know where your parents are." Hermione opened her mouth to argue. "Now I stil wouldn't ask you to be their secret keeper. The smart choice is one of your parents are. Then only they know their address, and we can't give them up." Harry looked into her panicked eyes and started to breathe deeper and slower in an attempt to calm Hermione down. It worked.

"We're just kids Harry," Hermione sobbed. "We should be revising for our exams, not preparing to fight a war."

"I know," Harry whispered. "I know." He looked around the compartment. "Where did Ron go?"

"He went to sit with his brothers while you were asleep. He said he'll be along when the train is pulling up." Hermione hiccuped.

Knowing what was worrying her, Harry sat down, and pulled her into his lap so she was straddling his knees, and rested his forehead against hers. "I'll do it with you Hermione. You don't have to do it alone."

"Thank you," Hermione breathed, truly greatful.

They stood as the train slowed to a halt, and grabbed their bags from overhead. They met up with Ron and stepped off onto the platform.

"I'll see you at the wedding," Ron said to the pair of them, and the three exchanged goodbyes and hugs, before he was hurried away by the Weasley's.

"Harry wait!" Ginny ran and caught up with him. "You said you wanted to talk to me, and I know what it is, but I need to hear you say it." She had tears in her eyes.

Harry gave her a tight hug. "I'm sorry Gin, but we can't be together. It's not because I don't like you, but because I do. You'll always be my sister Gin. Please remember that."

Ginny burst into tears into his chest and nodded. "I love you, Harry."

Harry hugged her back. "And I love you, Ginny. But as a sister."

Ginny nodded and stepped back. She looked into his emerald eyes, with teary chocolate orbs if her own, and smiled a sad smile. "Good luck, Harry Potter. Good luck with the Dursley's, and good luck with this war."

"You too." Harry smiled back before she ran off to join her family and was lost in the crowd. Hermione stood at the side awkwardly. Harry took her bag from her and carried it in one hand, with his in the other. They walked for about a minute until Hermione spotted her parents.

The pairs made their way toward each other, and Harry placed the bags on the floor to shake their hands. It was only now the school year was over, he could see just how tall he had grown. He was about an inch taller than Hermione's dad which scared him. He was used to being the short-arse in the room.

"Mum, Dad, this is Harry," Hermione introduced them, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in far too long. It was beautiful.

The woman was slightly taller than Hermione and looked quite different to her daughter, though he could see the resemblance. "Hello Harry," she smiled. "I'm Hermione's mum, though I insist you call me Emma. We've heard so much about you." She broke the tension by wrapping him in a hug, much like her daughters. So that's where 'Mione's freakishly good hugs come from. Harry thought.

The man smiled a kind smile that caused his eyes to crinkle. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and Harry instantly knew who Hermione took after looks wise. He had bushy brown hair on his head, looking almost as untameable as Harry's own. He had the palest blue eyes and Harry instantly liked him. He reached out and gave Harry a friendly handshake. "Hiya Harry, I'm Dan. Good to meet you."

"And you too," Harry smiled. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news."

Dan and Emma's faces took on a look of worry and they looked to their daughter who looked ready to break into tears again.

"There's a war in our world Mum." Hermione burst out. "Like World War II but the Wizarding equivalent. More of a civil war actually. But we need to get you to safety."

"Why? What have we got to do with this?" Dan Granger was not a stupid man, but without all the details, he sounded confused, and annoyed that he was confused. Another trait Hermione had picked up from her parents.

"Because she's my friend." Harry piped in, causing all heads to turn to him. "I've tried to tell her to run with you but she won't listen. I've dragged her into this and I'm so sorry for that." Harry felt tears welling up again. "Enough people have died for me, and I don't want anymore added to that list, let alone your daughter."

Hermione threw herself into a hug at Harry and fiercely told him: "You don't have a choice. I'm not leaving you."

"Why are you a target? Why would being your friend make her a target?" Emma asked.

"Because the leader of their side failed to kill me and now has a personal vendetta against me." Harry realised that they didn't realise how dangerous he was. "You've heard of all the terror attacks across Britain, yes?" At their nods he continued. "That's him. That's Voldemort. He is the one who is attacking Britain, and we need to defeat him. Which is why for your safety, we would like to suggest moving to another country under a charm to keep you undetected for the duration of this war."

Dan let out a low whistle. "That's a big ask son. When could we come back?"

"When the war ends. Whether that's in a couple of months or a couple of years, I'm sorry, I really don't know." Harry shook his head.

"I don't want Hermione to be part of this." Emma said abruptly. "I don't want either of youto be part of this. You are both so nice and mature, but you are still only teenagers. This is a war."

"I agree with you, Emma." Harry said. "I want Hermione as far away from this war as possible."

"What about you?" Dan asked.

"I have to do this." Harry said with a voice of steel. "For my parents. For my Godfather, For Dumbledore, and for everyone who has died in my name."

"Please Harry," Dan pleaded with him. "Don't fight in this war. Your parents and friends wouldn't want that. They wouldn't want you to die for them. Please don't go."

Harry smiled a sad smile. "Sir, you are a good man. You are a very good man, and so are you ma'am," Harry said turning to Emma who had tears in her eyes at the thought of someone so young losing so many people. "But I have to do this. You can't change my mind, but if you can't go then I beg of you to change Hermione's."

Hermione's head snapped towards him. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?" She said angrily.

Emma looked at her disapproving of her language.

"I have stood by you for six damn years an you expect me to leave you because of a bloody war? I don't fucking think so."

"Language," Emma reprimanded, though Dan grinned.

"My minds made up," He said. "How quickly can we rent out the house?"

"Don't bother," Harry said quickly. "I'll get you whatever you need and I don't give a damn how much it costs, I'm doing it. I've asked enough, at least let me help."

"Are you sure?" Said Emma. "A house in another country isn't exactly going to be cheap."

"I said I would do it." Harry repeated.

"I don't think we could stop Hermione no matter how hard we tried." Dan smiled sadly. Emma nodded in agreement.

"You're damn right." Hermione said but there was no malice or anger in her voice. Harry realised she was clutching his arm protectively, like she didn't want to be dragged away from him. Her anger subsided and her tears returned. "We wouldn't be able to visit." Hermione choked. "We wouldn't even be able to write."

Dan nodded sadly.

"We'll be gone by the end of this month." Emma said. "I worked it out. Mathematically, that's the earliest it could be."

"That's perfect," Hermione and Harry said together.

"We would be going to our friends brothers wedding to pick him up around then. We aren't in this war by ourselves. We'll be staying out of the fighting, but we have a very important mission." Harry explained.

There was a brief moment of silence before Dan wrapped him in a hug. "I want you to know I'm proud of you both. Of both of you. I wish I'd been as brave as you when I was younger."

"You asked me out, didn't you?" Emma mumbled with a smile.

"And I can't think of anyone better for my Hermione." Dan said ignoring his wife. "I'm so glad to have met you." He stepped back and moved on to his daughter as Emma started hugging him.

"You were her first friend you know." Emma whispered so as to be unheard. "And your her best. You should hear the things she says about you, Jesus, it's a wonder I don't know your life story." She frowned. "Actually I probably do." She shook her head slightly. "Anyway, I agree with Dan. You are a remarkable young man, and I can't think of a better friend for my daughter. Goodbye for now, Harry. I hope to see you again when this war finishes." She pulled away and flicked Dan on the war.

"Get Hermione's bag and let them say goodbye you silly man." She huffed before giving Harry a final smile, and walking off ahead of her husband.

"Sorry," Dan mouthed, causing Harry to smile, before Dan became audible with a hearty "Goodbye!" and he hobbled after his wife.

"And why did they agree so easily, Hermione?" Harry asked with an arched eyebrow.

Hermione sniffled and smiled sheepishly. "The Confundus charm does wonders. Don't worry, everything they said was genuine, and they would have agreed anyway." She shrugged. "It was just a shortcut."

"I love your parents," Harry decided, looking at them waiting by the portal.

Hermione smiled and looked at them as well. "Me too." She turned and gave Harry one final hug. "Goodbye Harry. I'll see you at Ron's"

Harry smiled. "Goodbye, 'Mione." And with that, she was gone.


The car ride back to the Dursley's was long boring, and strangely enough, peaceful. The highlight of the journey was a single stop at a Somerfield, but then Vernon, Dudley and Petunia spoke like a normal family and even included Harry in the conversation, without sarcasm or telling him off. They even asked how his school was. He was confused until he saw the look in Vernon's eyes. Guilt. He looked over at his cousin and saw the same look, but when he looked at Petunia?

Nothing.

He got in the house and helped to move the luggage from the car, chatting idly with Vernon and Dudley whilst Petunia unpacked the shopping. He went upstairs to his room and looked out across the sunset sky. A quick glance at Dudley's old digital clock confirmed it to be 21:34 but the bright sky was still beautiful.

He flicked on an old radio the Dursley's had picked up for him at a charity whilst he had been in school, and hummed along to the opening riff of Creedence Clearwater Revival. God he loved '60's music. He didn't know why, but he did.

I see, the bad moon arising,

Harry pondered over his upcoming task, and the arduous journey it would entail. He wondered how he would identify, let alone destroy a Horcrux. And what if he destroyed a Horcrux that turns out wasn't Voldemort's? Then it doesn't work, and his immortality stays.

I see, trouble on the way,

His thoughts turned to his friends. He was skipping out on his final year of school for this. He would be taking a journey which could quite possibly take them all over the world with his two best friends. But what of his friends who were staying behind? What of Neville? Ginny? Seamus? Dean? Luna?

I see, earthquakes 'nd lightnin'

I see, bad times today,

He thought about Hermione's parents. What would happen to them? After he had set up the Fidelius ward. What if he wasn't powerful enough and failed? What about the Weasley's? What if the burrow was attacked and they couldn't do anything to stop it. What was happening with the Order of the Pheonix now Dumbledore was dead. He knew they sure as hell weren't going to back down.

Don't go 'round tonight,

Well it's bound to take your life,

He thought about Ron, and what he would do without him, and He thought about how beautiful Hermione had been today. He wished he could take her pain away. He wished he could take everybody's pain away.

There's a bad moon on the rise.


The next few weeks at the Dursley's passed without incident, and it was weird. For the final few weeks he was living there, out of all the years of his life, they were being kind to him. He had received a letter from Hermione on the twenty-ninth saying her parents had left and she had put up the wards herself, so Harry didn't need to worry about doing it. She didn't know whereabouts they were, but she knew it was somewhere in mainland Europe close to Germany. She wished him an early birthday, and told him he would get his present and a surprise on his actual birthday for once.

The Dursley's had listened when he told them they needed to leave. He told them it wouldn't be permanent, and he would contact them when they could return, but for now, they needed to go, if not for their own sake. They left early on the thirty-first, with Vernon giving him a silver watch a with a black leather strap that had been passed down from his grandfather for his birthday. Dudley gave him, surprisingly, a gun. It didn't have any bullets in, and it was rusted out, but he had given it with the message to use it to "save as many lives as possible." He doubted he would use it. Only Petunia had kept up the tradition of not giving him a gift. He didn't care.

He watched television all day waiting for the Order to come and pick him up. The wards fell at half-five the next morning, so he needed to be gone by then. He let out a yawn as one'o'clock in the morning rolled around, but was jolted awake by a knock at the door. Time to go.