Chapter Eleven: December
A.D.
I've left Hogwarts after our discussion the other day. For everyone's safety I have not informed anyone of my departure. I've taken Ron and Hermione with me. I'm afraid I do not trust everyone in the Order, which is why I didn't wait for the verdict last night.
I've realized how easy it is to be betrayed. It happened just the other day. Unfortunately, Voldemort has spies where no one can predict. I'm taking a leap of faith with this letter because I know you, of all people, deserve an explanation.
Thank you for everything you have done, Professor. I'm always going to be in your debt. You gave me a home when I had none, and you did your best to protect me. Thank you.
Only send important news. Send it with Fawkes, Hedwig is too recognizable. I have found the power he knows not. Destroy this letter, if you would.
H.P.
Mum and Dad,
Hello, it's Ron. Lately things have been a little barmy, and I know I've put you through the loops. Well, I've left with Harry to fight You-Know-Who. I'll be safe most of the time, and I'll try to stay in touch if I can. Don't owl me, I'll contact you. Take care of Ginny and Pig. It would be best if your burn this letter.
Love,
Ron
Gin,
You know by now I'm gone. You're probably in Dumbledore's office and he's handed you this letter. I didn't want to leave, but you have to understand, I had to. I wanted to take you with me, but I couldn't. There are a lot of things I should have done before now. Tell Neville to start D.A. meetings again, you and him are in charge. You'll find the coins used to contact people underneath Hermione's bed.
I really wanted to be with you, Gin. I did. I'll do my best.
Try to destroy this letter. If you don't, I understand. I've kept everything you've ever given me.
Harry
Harry sat on a rickety wooden chair in the corner of Tourlaville's dining hall. He had on two pairs of sweaters, both made by Mrs. Weasley, a hat and scarf in Gryffindor colors, and two pairs of grey socks underneath his black shoes.
Harry did not honestly expect the cold draft in the lower corridors. The trio only inhabited a few rooms, three bedrooms they chose close to one another, a dining area and the library located on the second floor. More often then not they fell asleep together in the common room they established nearby to their rooms and the library.
Living without assistance was more difficult than Harry could ever have imagined. The cold was one recurring problem that refused to abate. The first few days Harry and Hermione were forced to run around the castle sealing broken stone and insulating doors and windows. Furniture needed to be mended and charmed into a more comfortable condition. Most every room was covered in dust and sometimes vegetation.
Despite the difficulties, Harry felt that Tourlaville held some hidden wonderment to it. Each stone held history and age, and the air felt fresh. Ron guessed they were somewhere far north in Scotland, closer to the mountains. In fact, the roof held a breathtaking view of the surrounding woods, carved peaks and a nearby river (though it was too far to journey to, too cold, and possibly outside of the protective wards).
Harry realized, with a start, it must have been close to Christmas. A month had surely passed since they first left Hogwarts. After the first week of scrambling, to ensure survival, a roof and reasonable comfort in a millennia old manor, the trio was left without direction or guidance, free to fight the forces of evil as they saw fit… if only they knew how.
That's what it all boiled down to. What to do? Harry could tap into his dreams and predict Voldemort's every move and action, but they couldn't leave Tourlaville without serious protection, a disguise, a portkey (in the least), and a foolproof plan. After all, what could three teenagers do? It was particularly dangerous because Harry still wasn't in complete control of his magic.
No, they couldn't fight this war at the forefront, like everyone else. The question remained, how to kill an un-killable man? How did Voldemort survive the Avada Kedavra the first time? Would Harry become a murderer? Harry shook his head, if he only had known what he knew now.
Clutched in Harry's hand was a crinkled yellow paper, a little singed from the messenger that brought it. The letter contained a correspondence from Dumbledore. With this news, Harry couldn't decide between fury, fear, or gratefulness.
A horcrux, a bit of the soul, torn wickedly and stashed into a vessel, makes a man immortal. So that was how Voldemort survived. He had to find seven… no, six horcruxes, and no one even knew what they were! Well, he had a few clues, which could be dead ends, and could also result in certain death.
You must be well hidden, for even Fawkes had difficulty the first few times in finding you, and Phoenixes are rarely flummoxed.
Well, at least they were well protected. For now… His inner monologue sneered. And now, they had a plan. Well, an idea for a plan. Ron and Hermione had already left to make lunch, leaving Harry to think some more.
I implore you to trust in me, Harry. You say you have found the power the prophecy spoke of, what is it?
If only Harry knew that information himself. He had no idea how to use Greta's gift. The power, no doubt, lay in the book that currently resided on his bed stand. It was certainly a
different sort of bedtime story than you'd expect. Dumbledore knew Lemmings diagnosis. However, he didn't have all the information that Harry had, he didn't have the source. Harry wanted to reveal to Dumbledore his revelation about Greta Gryffindor, but the information was too vital to communicate through a letter. Maybe Fawkes…?
Dumbledore had written about a ring, something that was certain to be a horcrux. He had described, in detail, Tom Riddle's obsession with Hogwarts and it's founders, their reign and relics. He had written about Tom Riddle's curse on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and the following events. No doubt Dumbledore's initial rejection led to his first reign of terror, and the eventual death of Harry's parents.
The Ministry could be one option, a source of information. Perhaps somewhere, in the millions of archives lying about, was the answer to his questions. Godric's Hollow, supposed home and resting place of Godric Gryffindor, surely that could lead to a discovery or two. The Pureblood society most likely had a tight lock on Salazar Slytherins remains. Hufflepuff… well, what exactly was a Hufflepuff anyway? Ravenclaw had a famous diadem. Hermione would probably know what the heck a diadem was….
The journal was destroyed, that was easy. It only nearly closed Hogwarts, almost killed Harry, petrified a hospital wing full of people, forced Harry through cruel trials and tribulations, put a gamekeeper in Azkaban, and cost a girl her childhood innocence. One down… hooray. Harry massaged his temple.
Then, a lightbulb went off.
They could visit Mr. Weasley. Yes, the burrow was largely protected. They were a pureblood family that could be trusted. Ginny would be there… an added bonus, not that Harry would admit that to himself. We could use Mr. Weasley as a gateway into the Ministry, if only to poke and prod. Get some supplies, maybe a few more sweaters… certainly… that would work.
Harry jumped off of his chair to inform Hermione and Ron of his plans. Perhaps it was selfish of them, to want to see their family and friends, to want to feel loved and cared for again. With such a difficult task ahead, who wouldn't want one last hug goodbye?
"No, Harry." Hermione sighed exasperatedly.
"Why not?" Harry exclaimed. "We need information that we're not getting here. With what we know now we can really start hunting for answers. Mr. Weasley knows his way around the Ministry."
"I agree with Harry." Ron stated simply. "The Burrow's safe, and Fred and George would know if a Horcrux was hidden at Hogwarts. They're the masters."
"It's way too dangerous!" Hermione said. "Voldemort's been looking for you, Harry. The Ministry's gone so far downhill in the past few weeks… look!" She pointed to the Daily Prophet.
Among other things, Ron snuck out one day, to the absolute fury of both Harry and Hermione. He had taken his broom to a village, about ten miles south of where they were, and subtly snuck into a wizard's bar. He stole a few of the cast away Daily Prophets and caught a few conversations on his way out. Things were bad. Attacks on Muggle towns had increased, and witches and wizards traveled in packs for safety.
"The Ministry has named you their number one threat! Boy-Who-Lived Gone Missing! Reward for Harry Potter! Voldemort's already succeeded in controlling the media, and Fudge has been replaced by some puppet!"
Harry nodded. "I know all of this Hermione, it doesn't change the fact that we have to start somewhere! Anywhere! We can't sit, safe in this deserted castle, and let him continue!" He paced the floor. "We're settled, we're safe, now it's time to put ourselves in danger again."
"I don't like this, it's too close to Ron's family." Hermione said quietly.
"My family's already in the middle of the war." Ron said. "They know what they're putting themselves into… just by having our last name. They'd be happy to see us alive and well."
"And making a difference, if we can start to…" Harry turned a questioning eye to Hermione. "If this is how it's going to be then we've all got to be decided. Nothing happens without all three of us in favor of it. Agreed?"
"I agree with that." Ron nodded.
"Yes… I…" Hermione sighed. "Alright, we'll go."
"Good, let's eat." Ron said. "I'm starved." To emphasize his point, he took one of the largest sandwiches on the plate in front of him and bit into it.
They spent the next hour planning their visit to the Burrow. Keeping in mind the fact that they had to remain undetected. Ron mapped out the wards around his family home, telling Harry and Hermione how his Dad had taught them to him last year. Ron's eyes went far away, as if remembering some father-son moment in the past.
Harry and Hermione decided it was best to go in daylight, so as not alarm the household. Ron was the one who suggested apparating closer to the side door, since it wasn't visible from the street. Harry suggested they first use a spell to scope the house, to detect if any visitors were there. It wouldn't do to burst into the house while the Minister of Magic was sitting in the kitchen sipping tea with Arthur Weasley. Not that it was likely, but Harry knew he had strange luck.
Mrs. Weasley loved to cook dinner for her family. She didn't use to, oh no. In fact, in the younger years of her marriage she hated the chore. But somewhere along the lines she began to enjoy the task, and the few minutes of solidarity and comfort it brought her. It gave her the power to bring all of her sons and one daughter into the same room to talk and be a family. The few moments at the end of the table, or bustling around serving people, made her feel… happy.
This morning, however, she knew her youngest son would not be joining them. She was standing with a hot cup of tea in her hand, facing the window that held the best view of the yard and her garden. Arthur, Ginny, Bill, Fred, George and Charlie were in the other room, enjoying the day as best they could.
"Where's Ron?" Charlie had asked when he first entered the house. Molly had to explain to him all that had happened while he was abroad. And now, he was staying in England, because of his sense of duty and family. Molly should have been ecstatic, but she only felt relief.
Ginny concerned her too. She was so quiet lately, too quiet. She barely spoke to her mother and father, only went to her room. A few days after she came home for Christmas break, Molly caught her reading a letter.
By and large, that was quite normal. The look on Ginny's face and the tears in her eyes spoke volumes. When Ginny saw her she snatched away the letter and put it in her sweater pocket. But not before Molly saw the familiar scrawl of Harry Potter.
"Molly, won't you come in the other room?" Arthur asked her.
"Oh, in a moment, I was just watching the snowfall." Arthur smiled softly at her and disappeared in the doorway.
Molly turned back to the window. That was when six things happened at once.
The wards sounded loudly.
Molly saw three figures come towards her house.
Everyone came crashing into the kitchen.
Bill and Charlie kicked down the door.
Ginny looked like she was going to faint.
And last, Molly dropped her favorite teacup.
"Ron!" She yelled jubilantly. Arthur raised his wand next to her.
"What?"
Sure enough, striding down the hill towards them was Ron, Harry and Hermione. Molly had already moved to greet them when a hand on her shoulder held her back. "Don't. It could be a trap."
"Then how did they get past the wards?" Ginny asked.
Before they had a chance to think things over, however, it appeared the twins had made up their minds. Fred and George bounded out of the house towards the trio and rammed into them, knocking Harry and Ron over.
"Won-won!" Fred yelled. "How nice of you to join us!"
Ron growled in irritation. "You haven't seen me in months so you decide to pummel me?"
Harry shook the snow out of his hair and laughed, while accepting a hand from Fred. "Best greeting I've ever gotten. How's business you two?"
"Booming thanks to you, Harry!" George shook his hand fanatically. "Can't thank you enough for your patronage."
At this point they'd reached the house where the rest of the Weasley's were waiting. Ron was pulled into an embrace from his multiple brothers, father, and finally his mother. Harry stood to the side, watching the family reunion happily. That was when he caught sight of the tree in the other room.
Mrs. Weasley had enough time to think that this was the best Christmas present she'd ever received.
Later that evening Harry, Ron and Hermione were almost subject to interrogation by the Weasley matriarch. However, Mr. Weasley interceded and explained to the trio that Dumbledore had given them strict orders not to try and find them. Harry had never been more relieved to hear that.
After Christmas dinner, Harry couldn't manage to catch a moment alone with Mr. Weasley. It seemed the family had all agreed to spend as much time as possible with their missing family member, or members, considering Harry and Hermione were considered just as much a part of the family.
While the household gathered in front of the Christmas tree, Harry heard the ominous knocking on the front door. The house went silent. Mr. Weasley drew his wand and calmly went to answer the door, Harry followed, curious and alert.
Harry concealed himself in the shadows of the entryway as Mr. Weasley opened the door.
"Professor!" He exhaled in relief.
Dumbledore stood with Ing Blotch to his left, and Remus to his right. Harry ran to embrace Remus familiarly and Ing clapped him on the back.
"Albus, we weren't expecting you." Arthur said.
"I'm sorry for barging in uninvited, Arthur. I'm afraid though, I couldn't miss the opportunity to have a conversation with Harry, and of course, wish you a Happy Christmas." From his robe, the Headmaster withdrew a small box wrapped in purple paper and golden lightning bolts on them.
"Do come in."
Dumbledore, Remus and Blotch- who stumbled in awkwardly, having never been exposed to the chaotic Weasley house- were seated in the living room and served tea by a lively Mrs. Weasley.
"How did you know I was here?" Harry whispered to the Professor.
"I didn't." The Headmaster whispered back, and winked. "But let's pretend I did. Wherever you're hiding is very secretive, Mr. Potter, for not even my best instruments and spells could track you!"
Harry released another relieved sigh. "I received your note."
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere. Would you join me in a walk outside? I find the air on Christmas Eve is a bit more magical than any other night. Especially when it's snowing." The Professor said this last part out loud.
Harry soon found himself supporting the Professor in the crisp night air around the Burrow.
"I'm afraid I have to ask too much of you, again, Harry." Dumbledore sighed. His frailty finally showing through, as Harry knew it would as soon as they left the house.
"Voldemort has gained a considerable amount of sway at the Ministry, more so than I dared imagine. I thought we had so much more time than this, Harry."
"I know, Ron managed to find an issue of the Prophet."
"Yes, it seemed you left just in the nick of time, Harry. Not a week after you left, Ministry officials came to find you. However, I told them you had left the school to pursue your education elsewhere. They seemed quite befuddled at that." The old wizard's humor returned for a moment. "A few auror's were under the impression that you were hiding in the kitchens. Do you know why that is Harry?"
"Nary a clue, Professor." Harry grinned. "Though if they show up with rat traps, you'll know why."
The Professor chortled. "I thought it was something like that."
"On a more somber note, I'm afraid to say that I have very few options left before me, Harry. The Board of Governors will be forcing me from my position soon. At this point in time, I can either resign my position to Professor Snape—"
"I don't see that going over very well, Sir."
"Yes, Harry, I imagine you don't. It's either that, or I can close the school's doors and refuse to let anyone in."
Harry and the Headmaster sat on the bench of the Weasley porch for a moment. Harry thought furiously. "Do you have the power to appoint whoever succeeds you?"
"I'm afraid most of my privileges have been stripped from me, Harry. I sincerely doubt that the Board of Governors, largely controlled by Mr. Malfoy, would allow me to appoint anyone they do not approve of."
"Close the school." Harry said. "It would be better to take Hogwarts off of his map before he can get to it."
"And what about the students Harry, where will they go? Remember, you once thought of Hogwarts as your one and only home."
That was true. What about the students…? "Keep the train running on schedule. Under all pretenses, the school will remain open… I've got an idea."
"And will you divulge it?" The Professor asked.
"By morning." Harry said. "I have a few things I need to check first, will you send Fawkes here?"
"I daresay, he is already here, Harry. He has always taken a liking to you, if you remember your second year." Harry did, with horrifying clarity.
"I'm afraid there's also another matter I must speak to you about. You are aware of the current Ministry takeover, and the numerous attacks being carried out. It is quite similar to what happened in Voldemort's first reign of terror. The night raids and the Dark Mark scattered across the countryside. I am doing all I can to maintain hope in the wizarding community…. But they're terrified."
"I am doing all I can, Harry. But the hunt must continue with you. You alone are capable of ending Voldemort's life. I am entrusting this to you."
"No offense meant, sir. But that's always been my job."
Dumbledore let out a relieved sigh. "I've told you all I know. Now we must both do our parts, Harry. I am afraid my age and fame have worked against me. Now I cannot do what I once intended. A heavy weight is being placed on your shoulders, regrettably."
"I understand." Harry locked eyes with the Headmaster. "I don't hold it against you. Trust me, I don't. I meant what I wrote to you, you've helped me more than anyone ever has."
Mrs. Weasley rapped on the window behind them. Harry and Dumbledore turned to face her, holding up a tray of cookies and pointing to the kitchens.
It was only much later that Harry got a few moments alone with Mr. Weasley.
"Mr. Weasley." Harry announced his presence, standing in the doorframe of his tool shed. Mr. Weasley, as per usual, sought a few moments alone to tinker with his Muggle objects. This week's project was an electric dog collar.
"Ah!" Mr. Weasley reached up to suck on his shocked thumb. "Harry! What can I help you for?" He returned to his collar, taking out a screwdriver. Harry quickly snatched it away and handed him a plastic one.
"Quick thinking, Harry." He tapped the plastic tool against his head.
"Mr. Weasley, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." Harry asked. Mr. Weasley paused in his tinkering, but continued on after a few seconds.
"What about?"
"The Hogwarts founders…"
"Well," Mr. Weasley grabbed a wrench, which Harry stole again. "I know just as much as the next person. They were Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Lived around a thousand years ago, built the school and were made infamous."
"Do you know anything about their descendants? Are there any record of them?"
"Well…." Mr. Weasley paused. "The Ministry wasn't founded until much later. In that era most records were kept in books. Anything historical you're looking for would be found at Hogwarts or…. The Goblins are known for hoarding anything of true importance, and in that time were trusted with family gold and heirlooms… as long as they were duly compensated."
"Do all goblins reside in Gringotts?"
Mr. Weasley laughed. "Well, we would hardly know, would we? They're secretive and cunning, never revealing too much, only just enough to keep you guessing." He waved a pair of tweezers in the air. "You would be wise to only trust them as far as you can throw them. Which isn't very far… they're very compact, you see. Heavier than they look…"
Harry raised an eyebrow and tucked the information away for later.
"Although…" Mr. Weasley continued, "Hogsmeade is well-known for having been founded around the same time. Perhaps you'll find something there, Harry… but I can hardly pretend to know what you're looking for."
Mr. Weasley looked at him hard in the eyes. "And I don't think I want to know."
Harry nodded and moved to turn around. It was too dangerous to go to Hogwarts right now, and Gringotts was too risky. Anywhere they went they would have to disguise themselves. He still had his father's cloak…
A hand gripped his arm. Mr. Weasley's eyes were weary, and for the first time, Harry noticed a small scar under his right ear. Where had that come from? Was it an old quidditch injury, or something darker…? He saw the wrinkles in Mr. Weasley's brow and the bags under his eyes. How many nights did Mr. Weasley work in a place that could very well hang him the next day?
"Take care of Ron, will you?"
Harry paused. "I place my friends before myself, sir."
"Good…" Mr. Weasley placed a hand on his head. "Good."
Harry wouldn't see Mr. Weasley for months. He wondered if history would ever know that Mr. Weasley's advice was what started Harry's hunt for the Horcruxes.