The next few days were incredibly busy for Bryt. Nearly every waking moment, Mrs. Weasley had everyone working to clean and organize the house for the wedding. At first, Bryt had thought Mrs. Weasley wanted to keep them busy after what had happened. Though after the second day and Bryt noticed Mrs. Weasley never let Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione work together in any form, Bryt began to wonder if she was trying to keep them apart. They didn't get a chance to talk until after dinner the second night. Bryt had been asked to sweep out the sitting room, something she'd actually done that morning, and Hermione was supposed to be changing the sheets in one of the bedrooms. A task that, like Bryt's sweeping, was already done. The girls took advantage of this and sneaked up to Ron's room, where he was supposed to be cleaning, and Hermione quickly busied herself with sorting through books for when they left while Bryt sat at the foot of Ron's bed, her legs crossed as she played with her pocket watch while Ron was sprawled across his bed next to her.
"Do you think there's a chance Mad-Eye might have survived?" Ron asked suddenly. Bryt frowned, glancing to Hermione. They found out at dinner earlier that they still hadn't been able to find Moody's body. Though Bryt would love to cling to the hope he was alive...She couldn't help but think it was impossible.
Though before they could answer, they heard someone coming up the stairs to the door. Ron yelled about how he was, in fact, cleaning his room as he bolted off the bed, though he relaxed when he noticed it was just Harry and flopped back down again.
"Hey," Bryt said, relieved it was Harry. They needed a moment to sit and talk.
"How did you to get away?" Harry asked as he sat on his cot nearby.
"We'd already gotten that stuff done," Bryt shrugged, watching Hermione sort the books.
"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," Ron said, "I reckon he might have survived."
"But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, but Bill was under attack, too," Ron said, "How can he be sure what he saw?"
"There's still the fall," Bryt said, "How could he survive that?"
"He could have used a Shield Charm—"
"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand," Harry cut in.
"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," Ron said irritably.
"Of course not!" Bryt snapped, glaring at her boyfriend, "That's the last thing we want!"
The room was quiet for a minute as Ron looked away.
"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves," Ron finally said, glancing back to the others, "That's why no one's found him."
"Yeah, like Barty Crouch," Harry said, obviously remembering their fourth year, "Turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him—"
"Stop!" Bryt snapped at the same time Hermione went "Don't!" and started crying. Bryt immediately jumped off the bed, sitting next to her friend and putting an arm around her. That was one image she didn't need in her head. She was having enough nightmares as it was.
"Oh no, I wasn't trying to upset you..." Harry said weakly.
"I'm sorry," Hermione managed as she started to calm down, wiping her eyes on a napkin, "It's just so awf-ful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore...I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!"
Of course, Bryt never imagined Dumbledore dying either, and she clearly remembered how that turned out...She didn't say that out loud, however.
"Yeah, I know," Ron said, "But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?"
"Constant vigilance," Bryt spoke up softly, sighing.
"That's right," Ron nodded, "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squint, Mundungus."
Bryt and Hermione both laughed at that. Hermione pulled from Bryt and started going through her books again and Bryt went back to sit on the foot of Ron's bed, her hands going back to playing with her pocket watch absentmindedly.
"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked as he sat up.
"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," Hermione answered, "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
"Oh, of course," Ron said sarcastically, "I forgot we'll be hunting down You-Know-Who in a mobile library."
"Ha, ha," Hermione rolled her eyes, then studied one of her books from her Ancient Runes class, "I wonder...will we need to translate runes? It's possible...I think we'd better take it, to be safe."
Hermione dropped the book in the 'to go' pile, then picked up her copy of Hogwarts, A History.
"Listen," Harry said suddenly, "I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me."
"Here he goes," Ron said suddenly and Bryt sighed. They all knew this was coming.
"As we knew he would," Hermione said, voicing Bryt's thoughts, "You know, I think I will take Hogwarts, A History. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with—"
"Listen!"
"No, Harry, you listen," Hermione cut in, "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago—years, really."
"But—"
"Shut up," Bryt and Ron said together.
"—are you sure you've thought this through?" Harry went on anyway.
"Let's see," Hermione said irritably, "I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose.
"I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me—or you, because unfortunately I've told them quite a bit about you.
"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. Or I don't—well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know they've got a daughter, you see..." Hermione paused, her eyes looking water again. "I've also been dodging Julio, he's been asking constantly about where we're going and why he can't come with us..."
"Unfortunately, I didn't have the money to send my family to another country," Bryt spoke up, trying to get the attention off Hermione.
"But you moved here from the United States," Ron pointed out.
"Yeah, and that used up practically all of my parents' life savings to do that," Bryt said, "Besides, my family also includes two underage wizards. They'd have to go through the Ministry to move, and God knows how many spies Voldemort has in the Ministry right now..." Bryt sighed, shaking her head. "Emily's with them, supplies packed and a tent ready to take them into hiding at a moment's notice. I can't even send them to a safe house...Not with my brothers having the Trace on them. Even at a safe house, the second magic's performed around them, they'll know exactly where they are. No, there's no choice but for them to disappear into the woods somewhere until this is over..."
"I—I'm sorry—I didn't—"
"Realize we know perfectly well what we're doing?" Bryt cut in.
"Well, we do," Hermione added, "Ron, show Harry what you've done."
"Nah, he's just eaten," Ron said. Bryt had to agree on that. The ghoul in the attic was disgusting.
"Go on, he needs to know!" Hermione insisted.
"Oh, all right. Harry, come here."
"We'll wait here," Bryt said simply.
Ron headed over to the ladder leading to his attic, taking Harry up to where Bryt knew the transfigured ghoul was, the one that'd come down to pretend to be a sick Ron after they left. Bryt could hear them talking, though they soon returned back to the room and Ron sat down next to Bryt on the bed again.
"Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come live down here in my room," Ron told Harry, "I think he's really looking forward to it—well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool—but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"
Harry looked confused and Bryt couldn't blame him. She was completely lost when Ron tried to explain it to her as well.
"It is!" Ron said in that same frustrated tone he'd used with Bryt when explaining this, "Look, when we four don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Bryt, Hermione, and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."
"Hopefully it'll look like Hermione and I went with our families," Bryt said, "Muggleborns all over the place are talking about going into hiding...Even Julio and Sofí have been discussing it, actually."
"We can't hide my whole family," Ron said, "It'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs. So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."
"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" Harry asked.
"Dad is," Ron nodded, "He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum...Well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we've gone."
The room fell silent again. Bryt kept playing with her pocket watch, staring down at it. They'd done everything they could to prepare to leave with Harry when the time came. Hopefully he understood that now.
Bryt jumped as they heard shouting from below and she looked towards the door.
"Ginny's probably left a speck of dust on a poxy napkin ring," Ron rolled his eyes, "I dunno why the Delacours have got to come two days before the wedding."
"Fleur's sister is a bridesmaid, she needs to be here for the rehearsal, and she's too young to come on her own," Hermione said.
"Well, guests aren't going to help Mum's stress levels."
"What we really need to decide," Hermione said simply, "Is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but...well...shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?"
"If I knew where any of the Horcruxes were, I'd agree with you," Harry said simply, sounding irritated that Hermione wanted to change his plans.
"Don't you think there's a possibility that Voldemort's keeping a watch on Godric's Hollow?" Hermione asked, "He might expect you to go back and visit your parents' graves once you're free to go wherever you like?"
Bryt frowned as she watched Harry, who seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer. She couldn't imagine what it had to be like for him. To be thinking about visiting his parents' graves, only to learn that he possibly couldn't...
"This R.A.B. person," Ron spoke up suddenly, "You know, the one who stole the real locket?"
"We haven't forgotten," Bryt said.
"He said in his note he was going to destroy it, didn't he?"
Harry leaned across the room and pulled his rucksack closer, pulling out the fake locket that he still kept with him, pulling out he note.
"'I have stolen the real Horcrux and intent to destroy it as soon as I can,'" Harry read.
"Well, what if he did finish it off?" Ron asked.
"Or she," Hermione said.
"Whichever," Ron rolled his eyes and Bryt hit him upside the head. He glared at her, then turned to the others, "It'd be one less for us to do!"
"Yes, but we're still going to have to try and trace the real locket, aren't we?" Hermione asked, "To find out whether or not it's destroyed."
"On that," Bryt said, leaning forward, "How are we going to destroy the Horcruxes when we find them?"
"Well, I've been researching that..." Hermione said slowly.
"How?" Harry asked, "I didn't think there were any books on the Horcruxes in the library?"
"There weren't," Hermione's face flushed slightly, "Dumbledore removed them all, but he—he didn't destroy them."
Ron straightened up next to Bryt.
"How in the name of Merlin's pants have you managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?"
"It—it wasn't stealing!" Hermione insisted, "They were still library books, even if Dumbledore had taken them off the shelves. Anyway, if he really didn't want anyone to get at them, I'm sure he would have made it much harder to—"
"Get to the point!" Ron said and Bryt smacked him upside the head again with a glare. Ron, like usual, just glared back.
"Well, it was easy," Hermione admitted, "I just did a Summoning Charm...And they zoomed out of Dumbledore's study window right into the girls' dormitory."
"I don't remember you doing that," Bryt said blankly.
"It was after you left, after Dumbledore's funeral," Hermione whispered, looking down, "Right after we agreed to leave school and go look for the Horcruxes, and you'd left with your family, Bryt. I was getting my things it—it just occurred to me that the more we knew about them, the better it would be...and I was alone in there...so I tried...and it worked. They flew straight through the open window and I—I packed them." Hermione swallowed hard. "I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?"
"Can you hear us complaining?" Ron asked, "Where are these books anyway?"
Hermione hesitated, then went and pulled out a book bound in black leather, though she looked physically ill just holding it.
"This is the one that gives explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux," Hermione whispered, "Secrets of the Darkest Art—it's a horrible book, really awful, full of evil magic. I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library...If he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here."
"But didn't he ask Slughorn about Horcruxes?" Bryt asked, looking to Harry, "That was the whole point of getting that memory from him, so you could learn that."
"He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven," Harry said, "Dumbledore was sure Riddle already knew how to make a Horcrux by the time he asked Slughorn about them. I think you're right, Hermione, that could easily have been where he got the information."
Bryt stared at the book in disgust. Somehow, knowing that Voldemort could have held that very book, bent over it and read it eagerly...It disturbed her. She gave a slight shudder at the thought, trying to shake it away.
"And the more I read about them, the more horrible they seem," Hermione said, sounding disgusted by the book as well, "And the less I can believe that he actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!"
"Isn't there a way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asked.
"Yes, but it would be excruciatingly painful."
"How so?" Bryt asked, "Worse than ripping the soul apart in the first place?"
"Far worse," Hermione said, "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently, the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"
"No," Bryt and Ron said together, then Ron continued on, "So does it say how to destroy Horcruxes in that book?"
"Yes," Hermione said with a nod, "Because it warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, what Harry did to Riddle's diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux."
"What, stabbing it with a basilisk fang?" Harry asked.
"Oh, well, lucky we've got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then," Ron said sarcastically, "I was wondering what we were going to do with them."
"Do you just want me to keep hitting you?" Bryt asked. Ron glared at her again.
"It doesn't have to be a basilisk fang," Hermione said, "It has to be something so destructive that the Horcrux can't repair itself. Basilisk venom only has one antidote, and it's incredibly rare—"
"Phoenix tears," Harry and Bryt said together.
"Exactly," Hermione said, "Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as basilisk venom, and they're all dangerous to carry around with you. That's a problem we're going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won't do the trick. You've got to put it beyond magical repair."
"But even if we wreck the thing it lives in, why can't the bit of soul in it just go and live in something else?" Ron asked.
"Because a Horcrux is the complete opposite of a human being."
Bryt blinked, glancing at Harry and Ron, seeing that they looked just as confused as she did.
"Look, if I picked up a sword right now and ran one of you through with it, I wouldn't damage your soul at all."
"That's...comforting?" Bryt asked. Harry and Ron laughed.
"It should be, actually!" Hermione said, "But my point is that whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched. But it's the other way round with a Horcrux. The fragment of soul inside it depends on its container, its enchanted body, for survival. It can't exist without it."
"That diary sort of died when I stabbed it," Harry said slowly.
"And once the diary was properly destroyed, the bit of soul trapped in it could no longer exist," Hermione said, "Ginny tried to get rid of the diary before you did, flushing it away, but obviously it came back good as new."
"But didn't the soul possess Ginny?" Bryt asked, "If it can't survive without its...host? Then how can it possess someone?"
"While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object."
Bryt tensed a bit, opening her mouth to ask at the same time Ron seemed to want to ask something, but Hermione hurried on before they could, obviously guessing what they were thinking.
"I don't mean holding it for too long, it's nothing to do with touching it. I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out in that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You're in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux."
"I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?" Harry asked, "Why didn't I ask him? I never really..."
Harry trailed off and the room fell silent again. Bryt glanced down at her pocket watch around her neck again, playing with it in her hands, tracing her fingers along the dragon design on the front. She could imagine what Harry was thinking. She remembered when her grandparents died, how she often found herself thinking about the things she'd never get to do...The things she wanted to talk to them about...
The door to Ron's bedroom suddenly flew open and Bryt jumped to her feet quickly as Hermione gave s startled shriek and Crookshanks disappeared under the nearby bed with a hiss. Ron jumped up as well, though stumbled and went head-first into his wall. Bryt grabbed his arm to steady him and turned to see Mrs. Weasley in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and looking very angry.
"I'm so sorry to break up this little gathering. I'm sure you all need your rest," she said venomously, "But there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."
Bryt, who knew better than to argue with Mrs. Weasley, hurried out of the room instantly with Hermione. They should have known that their time to talk wouldn't have lasted long. But at least they'd gotten some time to talk. Bryt doubted they'd get the chance again anytime soon.