A/N: This chapter unexpectedly needed a considerable amount of hand-holding about halfway through, and I'm extremely grateful to have gotten it. Without that help, I can't promise exactly what you might have read towards the end. Also, I have say a separate thank you to Melindaleo – your most recent review crystalized a couple of things I had knocking around in my brain in a way that helped enormously, even if you didn't realize it. So thank yous all around!
Harry and Ginny didn't make love after Fred's funeral, or Remus and Tonks' either. They talked about it, about needing a distraction, but Harry was more relieved than disappointed that Ginny just wanted him to hold her after they came down the hill where Fred was buried. They remained close to her family, sleeping, as it were, for a second night in the Burrow's sitting room.
What they did do, with Ron and Hermione, was find Kingsley after the service for the Lupins was over, and pull him aside under protection of a Muffliato.
"Ron and I need to join the Aurors right away." Harry was blunt. "And not as trainees." Swiftly, he told Kingsley why.
The head Auror raised his eyebrows once or twice while Harry spoke, but to his credit, did not interrupt. Harry did his best to keep the emotion out of his voice as he explained what he and Ron needed to do, what they needed to search for. And when Bill glanced over and then disengaged himself from the small knot of mourners to join them, Harry did not hesitate to include the man in his explanation.
"We need to know as much as possible about the curse, or curses, used to create a Horcrux." Harry was holding Ginny's hand, and he knew that only she could tell it was trembling.
"And how to destroy one too?" asked Bill in a gentle voice. Harry shook his head.
"We . . . know how to do that already," he said quietly.
"Then we need to go to Hogwarts, immediately if possible," said Bill. "The strength of any magical signatures will start to wane soon."
"Not to mention that the reconstruction is scheduled to start next week," said Kingsley.
Harry started at that news. The thought that things were moving on, that plans had already been made to rebuild the castle, to prepare it for the next class of First Years, was disconcerting. In some part of his mind, Harry had assumed that everything would stop while he hunted down Voldemort. The battle – already people were calling it the Final Battle – had done what it was supposed to, as far as most knew. Voldemort was dead and he and Ginny were heroes. Of course they'd be wanting to celebrate and then move on. Those who were mourning would take longer, and would never be the same, but there would be memorials and remembrances and the purity of their grief.
But Harry was stuck. And he was one of the precious few who knew how tenuous the joy and security of everyone else really was. That knowledge added another layer of pressure to the urgency of finding what was left of Voldemort and finishing what should have been done the first time. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and back to the discussion at hand.
". . . Dumbledore's portrait?" Kingsley was saying. Before Harry could even respond, Ginny and Ron were shaking their heads.
"I'm not sure he'll know; he didn't expect we wouldn't . . ." Ginny broke off, looking hesitantly at Hermione.
"Dumbledore left too much to the chance of perfect timing." Harry absolved Hermione with his words and with them finally acknowledged the flaws in his old headmaster that Harry had stubbornly ignored for so long. "He was shocked when he realized Snape hadn't reached me in time," he continued bitterly, remembering the look of surprise and confusion on Dumbledore's face when he'd spoken to Harry at King's Cross.
Harry thought he might have been the only one to notice Kingsley's face fall, ever so slightly. That the head Auror harbored the same reliance as Harry that Dumbledore – even one reduced to paint and canvas – would have all the answers, was oddly comforting. He didn't envy the man his new understanding about Dumbledore's fallibility; indeed, Harry himself wasn't sure he'd ever come fully to terms with it. And he wasn't quite ready to accept it completely.
"But now that it's been a few days, I suspect he's come up with some ideas, at least a place to start," said Harry.
Kingsley relaxed and Bill nodded. "Then it's all the more important that we get to Hogwarts. Today if possible." He looked pensive for a moment. "I'm going to call in a few old friends - curse-breakers and others, if you think that's okay. We can bind them to a contract of secrecy, but I think we need the help."
Harry agreed quickly. He trusted Bill, and the stories of his gang from Hogwarts and their brilliance was still stuff of legend. Harry felt the knot of anxiety in him loosen a bit as he contemplated what Bill's friends might be able to figure out.
He was holding Ginny's hand, talking to her about Teddy and how he could continue to fit in time to see the boy, as they approached the exit to the small cemetery where Remus and Tonks had been buried. Harry hadn't realized wards had been set up around the service; as soon as he and Ginny passed through the gates, a roar of noise and flashbulbs greeted them.
"What the fuck?" Bill and Fleur were right behind them, wands out, but it was too late. A throng of press, well-wishers, hangers on, and others crowded around. If Harry hadn't already been holding Ginny's hand, he was sure they would have been swept away into separate pools of admirers, possibly waylaid for hours. She gripped onto him instinctively, ducking her head into his chest, which of course caused another surge of noise and photos.
"Harry, Harry, is it true that you and Miss Weasley have a soul bond as a result of her killing You Know Who?"
"How did The Boy Who Live, live again? Can you tell us what you know?"
"Did you dispose of He Who Must Not Be Named's body yourself? No one can find it, or hadn't you heard?"
"Where have you been all this past year? Why did it take so long for you to confront the Dark Lord?"
"Miss Weasley, how does it feel to be the second Savior of the Wizarding World?"
The voices were insistent and intrusive. Despite having faced similar questioning mobs too many times in his life already, Harry had never gotten used to them. Hearing Ginny being put under the spotlight too, on top of all of the stressed he'd faced that week already, pushed Harry over the edge.
"His name is Voldemort! Use it!" The shouts and questions had stopped as soon as Harry turned around, and his voice sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. He didn't care.
"And he's gone, okay? Gone!" The lie felt odd on his tongue. He gripped Ginny more tightly, wishing his words would protect her from the crowd. "It doesn't matter how or where or why he disappeared, just know that he's not coming back, okay? There's nothing to worry about, not anymore. We . . ." - Harry gestured to the people around him - "We took care of it, completely. There's no reason for all these questions, all this suspicion, none at all. You aren't going to find anything else out by attacking us . . . there's nothing to know, I mean. Nothing to . . ."
Harry choked off when he felt the sting of a hex on his back. He whirled around. Ron's wand was barely visible inside the sleeve of his robe and he gave Harry a brief, sharp look before his face relaxed again into that of a mourner. Next to him, Ginny murmured "better stop talking, don't give them ideas," and Harry felt his stomach drop. The silence had morphed into confused muttering, and a few flashbulbs began to pop again. He only waited long enough to hear a voice call out "But, Mr. Potter, what does that mean for . . ." before he grabbed Ginny and turned on the spot.
HPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry had no idea why Grimmauld Place popped into his head, but that's where he found himself moments later, balanced carefully with Ginny on the top step of the front door. Too late, it occurred to him that the house could have been overrun by Death Eaters for the past months, ever since he and Ron and Hermione had barely escaped retrieving the locket Horcrux from the Ministry of Magic. But they wouldn't be here now, and Harry didn't have anyplace else private to be.
"Stay behind me," he said quietly to Ginny, and eased open the front door.
He held his breath, waiting for the tongue-tying curse and then the ghostly Dumbledore to appear, but all was quiet. The place had an air of abandonment about it, but it was spotlessly clean; Kreacher had clearly not neglected his duties for a day, all this time.
Harry closed the door behind them and quietly pulled Ginny into his arms. She was shaking, most likely from anger, he thought, and he held her until both of their breathing had slowed.
"How do you stand it?" she finally asked. "Will they ever leave you alone?" She grimaced. "Or is it 'us' now?"
"I think you're as interesting to them as I am now," said Harry grimly. "Both because they think you killed Voldemort and because they suspect you have a connection to me." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I made it worse, yelling like that, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did," said Ginny honestly. "You were so insistent he's gone, it kind of sounded like maybe you know he isn't."
"Fuck, I'm an idiot," said Harry. "Now they're going to be paying even more attention." He sighed. "We probably need to go back to the Burrow, don't we?" He looked up the stairs, contemplating what would happen if he just slipped into one of the upstairs bedrooms and crawled under the covers for a while. There were so many threads pulling at him, and Harry wasn't sure which ones to follow first – grief over their losses, Teddy, managing the press and protecting Ginny from them, finding and destroying Voldemort, ridding himself of the Horcrux, and of course, doing it all without dying – it was so much to think about.
"We should go soon," Ginny agreed. "But if you want to rest here for a little while first, I think everyone will understand."
"It's quiet here," Harry said. "And I need to sit and think." He didn't think he'd be able to make any decisions, not yet, but the stillness was calming. The walked together into the sitting room and sank as one onto the sofa. Ginny climbed into Harry's lap and leaned against his chest. He absently stroked her hair and tried to empty his mind. It wasn't easy; the skill was the same one needed for Occlumency, which Harry had never managed to master. Still, he did his best not to think about the pressures competing for his attention, and tried to focus instead on Ginny, and the much more pleasurable pressure of all the points where her body touched his.
"You ground me," he said quietly. "Please don't ever leave."
Ginny twisted in his lap to look at him in surprise. "Where would I go?"
Harry shrugged. He knew there was really no chance of it, but he needed to hear that Ginny was sure.
"The press, the public. I didn't really anticipate . . . on top of everything else," he said. "It could get to be . . . too much, or you might need a break or something, I don't know." He waited for her to disagree.
She surprised him, though. "I didn't really think about what other people would think either," she admitted. "It adds another . . . layer, I guess. That we don't need." She put her hand on Harry's cheek. "I'm sure I will need a break sometimes, won't you? It would be stupid to pretend everything is just fine and easy all along."
Harry nodded. "That's why Ron left," he said. "We didn't talk about it, or think about what the others needed enough. Until it all exploded." He kissed Ginny's forehead. "Forget what I said just now," he said. "If you need to take a break, or . . . or leave, I'll understand." He kept his voice carefully neutral, but knew she could feel how fast his heart started beating.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know I'm not one to keep things bottled up inside," she said. "I won't let it get to the point of explosion – for any of us." She pulled his face down towards hers. "And when I need a break, I intend to take it with you. Distractions, remember?"
Harry was embarrassed at the wave of relief he felt from Ginny's words. "I should know better by now," he mumbled, lips finding hers.
Ginny kissed him back and then pulled away. "We're still getting to know each other in some ways," she said. "I'm not going anywhere though. No matter what."
They stopped talking, and in the stillness of the room, Harry began to lose himself with Ginny again.
Neither of them had become nearly distracted enough when Ron's Patronus found them. This time, Harry didn't even bother to move his hand off Ginny's breast while they listened to the message. His erection was gone by the time the terrier finished speaking though, and it was with more than a little reluctance that they both sat up and refastened their clothing.
"Should we have them all come here?" Harry asked. "We could all meet at the Burrow, I guess, but . . ."
"I think here is better," Ginny said. "It's private, and good for George to be somewhere else."
Harry rubbed at his face. "I still can't believe what I did. Didn't expect them to jump on it that fast though. I should have known better."
"They would have figured something was up anyway," said Ginny. "It's not like Rita Skeeter was just going to let us disappear into the privacy of our own lives. At least this way we have a chance of getting out in front of the information before anyone figures out too much."
"Misinformation, you mean," said Harry. "I hope George was able to get ahold of Lee."
George did in fact, find Lee, and soon the group was sitting around the kitchen table in the basement, drinking Firewhiskey and eating some of Kreacher's cakes. George's eyes had clouded over with memories when he arrived, but now he was leaning forward on his elbows, listening intently to Lee as copies of the special Harry Potter-Ginny Weasley "Heroes" edition of the Daily Prophet passed from hand to hand.
"I 'eard Witch Weekly is working on a mini-edition too," said Fleur from the other end of the table. "More focused on 'ze relationship between 'Arry and Ginny, of course."
"Of course," said Harry. "I don't really care if they know that Ginny and I are together, but all that soul bond nonsense has to stop." He didn't know how many of the others at the table had considered – or even understood – the implications of what had happened between him and Ginny, hell, Harry hadn't even talked to Ginny about it. He didn't want rumors about the two of them to get out of hand; there were still Death Eaters at large who might think nothing of trying to gain an advantage. "In fact," he said, thinking quickly. "Maybe you can go a little overboard, slipping details of our romantic life. Fake details, of course."
"Better be fake," said Bill with mock sternness. "Or at least, please, let me believe they're fake."
George was nodding. "We could mention that Harry was seen in the shop buying . . . hmmm. Nothing from the back room, I guess?"
"Definitely not," said Harry and Ginny at the same time. Harry was happy to see George showing interest.
"Maybe something completely offbeat, like those two-minute time turners," mused George. "And . . . a whole bunch of Remembralls maybe. I'm sure we could come up with a good story about that."
Lee looked at Harry. "And you want a sighting of Voldemort's body too, right? His dead body?"
Harry nodded. "If you think you can make it sound legitimate," he said. He looked around the table. "Cause I didn't actually see what happened, at the end. What did everyone see?"
There were glances around the table; no one seemed to want to speak first. Finally, Ron took a deep breath.
"When Ginny's curse hit him, it wasn't like . . . like the spiders," he said. "You know, quiet and immediate." Ron closed his eyes in thought.
"But there wasn't an explosion either, was there?" asked Harry. "Like when he . . . like with my parents."
Ron shook his head. "He kind of, I don't know, stuttered for a second, and then suddenly he was gone."
"That's not exactly what I saw," interrupted Bill. "The curse kind of wrapped around him and he collapsed into it. His eyes were still open."
"I saw his body on the ground, I'm sure of it," added George. "And then it kind of melted into the stones on the floor."
"But there was a big arc of grayish-black light that floated up from him," said Lee. "And I could see the image of the body inside it as it drifted away."
"Did he look dead, when you saw that?" asked Bill. Lee nodded. "I'd say so, although I couldn't tell for sure, I didn't see his face, just the impression of a body." Hermione nodded in agreement. "And it became more indistinct as it floated," she said.
Bills friends, most of who hadn't been there, were muttering among themselves. Harry was encouraged by the animation he saw in their faces. He turned to Ginny.
"What about you?" he asked. "Did you see something like that?"
Ginny shrugged. "I didn't really see anything," she admitted. "As soon as I saw the spell hit, I ran to you."
Harry vaguely remembered a frantic voice and soft hands on his face as Dumbledore had faded away in the flash of green light. "I think I heard you," he said.
Ginny gave him a small smile. "I was pretty loud," she said. "When you opened your eyes, afterwards," – she took a deep breath and Harry saw her lips trembling – "I didn't even know what to think, I couldn't even be relieved at first. I was so shocked."
Harry took her hand. "I was too," he said. "One second I was talking to Dumbledore, hearing that I'd missed getting vital information and the next I was with you, and you'd just done all the hard work for me."
Ginny huffed. "Right, because jumping in front of the Killing Curse was so easy."
Harry kissed her. "It was," he said. "I didn't even have to think about it."
"Oi, didn't we just spend twenty minutes annoyed at the Daily Prophet for debating which of you was the biggest hero? We don't need a rehash." Ron's voice was teasing and everyone at the table chuckled.
Harry nodded. "You're absolutely right, mate. We have much more important things to discuss." He held up his wand. "Like, Accio Firewhiskey!"
HPHPHPHPHP
When George and Lee left an hour later, Ginny could tell that Harry was feeling better. It was not surprising that everyone in the room remembered Voldemort's supposed demise differently, and Lee assured them would make the task of rumor-mongering that much easier. George was in better spirits than Ginny had seen him yet, and she smiled to hear him ask Lee if he thought they should contact Angelina Johnson for help with some of the more "romantic stories."
By then, it was really too late to travel up to Hogwarts, but Bill said another day wouldn't make a big difference; magical signatures didn't dissipate that quickly. While he and Hermione bent over a piece of parchment containing the contract they planned to have the other curse-breakers sign, Fleur came and sat next to Ginny.
"Ron, 'e has been worried," said Fleur. She nodded across the room where Ron and Harry were talking quietly.
Ginny looked at the other witch in surprise. "He has," she agreed. "How did you know?"
Fleur shrugged. "Ron lived with us last year. When 'e . . . wasn't with the others."
Ginny hadn't thought about that. Harry had forgiven Ron – more than forgiven him – and that was all Ginny really needed to know.
"He regretted it immediately, I could tell," Fleur continued. "And he grew a lot. Even Bill noticed." She looked across the room again. "And now, he will do anything he can to 'elp."
"We all will," said Ginny fiercely.
Fleur chuckled. "Yes, there's no question about that," she said. "And we know there is no use in telling any of you to be careful, will it? You are all determined, no matter the danger."
Ginny nodded. "Being careful isn't going to save Harry's life," she said bluntly. "Whatever might have been the easy – or easier – way, is past. Now we have to figure out what else is going to work, and then do it." She knew she probably sounded naïve, practically declaring that there must be an answer, they would find it, and all would be well. But Ginny absolutely wasn't going to let her mind go anywhere else, and certainly not to the what ifs that tried to squeeze into her mind when she wasn't paying attention. To her credit, Fleur nodded in agreement, whatever she might be thinking privately, or discussing with Bill, left unsaid.
Ginny didn't want to think right now; instead, she looked over at Harry and Ron. As if feeling her gaze, Harry looked up at her. She stared back, and even with a half dozen other people in the room, the air grew thick between them.
Ron didn't notice; Fleur did, but didn't say anything when Harry abruptly got up and came over to them, asking to speak to Ginny in private.
In the hallway outside the kitchen, Harry drew Ginny into his arms and tucked her head under his chin.
"Ron has a lot of good thoughts, and questions," he said finally. "It's . . . it's a lot to think about."
Ginny could hear something in Harry's voice. "Ron can see many alternatives at once," she agreed slowly. "It's what makes him so good at chess. But . . . it also makes him able to see how many things can go wrong." Harry's arms tightened around her, and she knew she had guessed at what the two had been discussing.
"I'm glad to have him looking at all the alternatives," said Harry. "We need that, for sure. But we don't even have a plan yet, and hearing about the risks is kind of overwhelming." He looked down at her. "I just want to hear that it's going to be okay, isn't that silly? It's not like I've ever had that confidence before."
"We've never had this much time to think and plan before," pointed out Ginny. "Even the Horcrux hunt began without much warning; you had to figure things out as you went along."
Harry nodded. "We did some planning though," he said. "Like getting into the Ministry and Gringotts." He grimaced. "And both times, things very nearly went pear-shaped."
"And they will again," said Ginny. There was no use trying to pretend they knew any more now than they had before, or that things would suddenly, somehow be easier. Ginny wasn't sure what Harry wanted at this moment, but she knew that what he needed was to sleep. His body had been getting rest these past days, but she was pretty sure he hadn't stopped thinking about everything, even unconsciously. "Have you used the dreamless sleep potion yet? This would be a good night to take some, before we go to Hogwarts tomorrow." Ginny knew she sounded rather like her mum, telling Harry what to do like that. Somewhat to her surprise, he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "It's back at the Burrow though. Should I stay there tonight? If I take the potion, I won't be kept up by Ron's snoring. And that way, we can all get an early start. There's going to be a lot to do at Hogwarts. What do you think? Or would it be better if I stayed here?"
Ginny made the decision. "The Burrow," she said. She knew her parents wanted her and Ron there for at least a few more days, and there was no question that Harry shouldn't be alone at Grimmauld Place; his outburst today had been all the evidence Ginny needed that. It was overprotective, but she decided that it was up to her to make sure Harry wasn't by himself right now. Even though he was more than capable of taking care of himself, Ginny didn't want him having to make the effort that required.
Overprotective for sure.
She shrugged. If he didn't like it, he would tell her.
But Harry was more than agreeable about going home with her. He even chatted casually with Ron and Hermione - and ribbed Hermione gently about when she might start the research needed for her to-do list – as they said goodbye to the curse-breakers until the morning and prepared to Apparate back to the Burrow.
There was a certain relief, Ginny decided, in getting the funerals behind them. No one was particularly happy, to be sure, but the heavy pit of anticipation she'd had in her stomach all week was gone. Harry's outburst seemed to have eased some of the tension he'd been feeling too, and when he mentioned that he didn't want to take the dreamless sleep potion until he'd made sure that his body was as tired as his mind, Ginny was more than happy to oblige.
The excuses they made to go alone to her room were thin, but no one objected. Ron and Hermione had disappeared already anyway. The days of her mum worrying about reputations and scarlet women were past.
Upstairs, Harry fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and pulled off his own, kissing her gently at first, and then more insistently. She pressed herself up against him and felt as he lengthened and hardened against her stomach, and when he shuffled them both over towards her bed she pulled him right down on top of her.
"I think I want to . . ." Harry began, but a loud noise outside her room made them both jump.
"George and Fred's . . . George's door," said Ginny. "We must have forgotten the silencing charms." She reached for her wand, but Harry stopped her.
"I set wards so no one can get in or hear us," he said. "But not ones to keep out outside sounds." He shrugged. "Something I learned last year, to always be able to hear anything coming."
Ginny nodded. "That makes sense," she said. "As long as no one can hear us."
"They can't," Harry assured her. He stretched out long on top of her and fit himself between her legs with a groan. "That feels so good," he muttered.
Ginny thrust up. "And what about this, does it feel good too?" She thrust again.
Harry shivered. "Even better," he said. He wrapped his arms around her back and lowered his mouth to hers for what Ginny hoped would be some extended snogging before they moved on to other things. Indeed, Harry's lips were playful, running across her jaw and down to her neck before finding her lips again. She opened her mouth to his and was enjoying the taste of him – treacle and Firewhiskey – on her tongue, when an eerie moan made him stop.
"Is that . . . ?" he began.
Ginny nodded. "The ghoul in the attic sometimes gets bored," she said. "He likes to yell down the pipes."
Harry shook his head. "Couldn't he have bothered Ron and Hermione instead?" He wiggled against her. "Although, Ron's probably finished ages ago," he said with a grin. He wiggled again. "And we're just getting started."
"Just don't mention my brother again, please," said Ginny breathlessly. Harry was doing something with his tongue that matched the tiny pulses he was making lower down, and her thoughts were becoming scattered.
"I promise," said Harry solemnly. He moved a hand down and Ginny couldn't hold back a gasp.
Tap tap tap.
"Ignore it, it's just a tree branch," said Ginny. She moved her hand down to find Harry's. "More of this, please."
Tap tap tap.
"Ginny, I don't think . . ."
"I . . . don't' . . . care . . . Harry. Keep doing . . . what you're doing."
Tap tap tap.
It was no use. The owl at the window was insistent, and Harry and Ginny both sighed when he moved his hand out of her trousers. She peered out the window.
"It's Bill's," she said.
Harry jumped up to let the mottled black bird inside. "Something must have happened,"
The note attached to the owl's leg contained new language for the magical contract Bill wanted his friends to sign, and a request they run it by Hermione. Harry read it and then ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Why didn't he just send this to Hermione straight away?"
Ginny snorted. "Because Bill doesn't care as much about what Ron might be doing in his bedroom as I'm doing in mine." She ruffled the owl's feathers. "Overprotective git."
Harry groaned and flopped back onto Ginny's bed. "Between slamming doors and ghouls and older brothers, I think the Burrow should be the last place we ever try to be alone," he said.
Ginny carefully attached something to the owl's leg and sent it back into the night. "Bill will think twice about interrupting us once he opens that note," she said with a grin. "It's going to make his bits shrink for two days."
Harry chuckled. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said. He stood up. "I guess the rest of tonight's activities should wait until later, after Hogwarts. Merlin knows, we aren't going to be able to do anything else here." He held up Bill's note. "I'll give this to Hermione before sending her back down." He grimaced. "I hope she didn't fall asleep in Ron's bed."
Ginny kissed him lightly. "If she did, come back down and share with me," she said.
Harry kissed her back. "I love you, but not a chance. The floorboards would probably rise up and smack me or something."
She swatted him out the door. "The house will get used to you, I promise."
HPHPHPHPHP
No matter how he spun it, Harry had to admit that going to Hogwarts had been a failure. Sure, it might be a good thing to know that Voldemort hadn't left any magical residue when he'd . . . disappeared or disintegrated or whatever he'd done when Ginny had cursed him, but it was difficult to get too excited about a lot of nothing. And maybe it was somewhat cathartic to be forced to see the castle and all its damage again so soon (George's stopping to vomit notwithstanding), but it certainly didn't make Harry or any of them feel particularly good. At the most, it made him want to come back to help with the rebuilding, but he knew he would have done that anyway. The sun was setting and Ginny's hand was soft in his as they walked down the path towards Hogsmeade and the Apparition point. She kept glancing at him, and he knew she was worried that he was about to explode again, but for the moment, his mind was strangely calm as he reviewed the events of the day.
Bill and his friends fanned out grimly, tracing the steps Harry and Ron and Hermione had walked, from the Room of Requirement, to the grounds, through the castle and to the Shrieking Shack where they discovered – to their dismay – that no one had thought to remove Snape's body. One by one, Patronuses reported back that no, there was nothing to be found, no sign of dark magic, no hint of a trap, no trace of a Horcrux.
Undeterred, Harry and Kingsley went to the Headmaster's office only to find Dumbledore's portrait as unhelpful and distraught as the man had been in Harry's mind at King's Cross.
"I'm sorry, Harry, that I have to ask you, once again, to forgive an old man's failings." The portrait sighed. "My intellect being what it is, my plans tend to be grander than most. Alas, that means my mistakes are as well."
Harry made an impatient gesture. "But you know more about Horcruxes than almost anyone, and you've known for years and years that I have one inside me. You must have some ideas."
Dumbledore closed his eyes before answering. "I have gone over it and over it in my mind, Harry. Yes, I have solutions." He opened his eyes. "But so far, I have not been able to come up with one that does not result in your death."
Harry and Kingsley left soon after that, meeting up with Ron and Hermione after their trip down to the Chamber of Secrets where, not surprisingly, they had found nothing of use. Harry shook his head quickly to let them know Dumbledore had been no help; their identical looks of disappointment as familiar as the rest.
"Do you think the library's intact?" Hermione's eyes darted down the corridor. Harry shook his head.
"Ginny went there with Fleur," he said. "They sent me a Patronus; it's in pretty bad shape right now."
Another look of disappointment, and Harry had been ready to call it a day. He thanked Bill's friends profusely, and promised to call of them again if the need arose, and then suggested that everyone else go back to the Burrow.
He didn't know why he wasn't more upset. Hogwarts had been their one true lead and now they were without any idea what to do next. But if he was honest with himself, Harry knew he'd be in this position eventually, with no ideas and no leads and everything feeling hopeless. It had just happened earlier than expected. Now maybe they could start from scratch, he told himself. He squeezed Ginny's hand.
"It's going to be okay," he promised.