Harry had never thought of himself as a particularly brave person. Secretly, he had always thought that the

Sorting Hat had made a terrible mistake all those years ago by putting him in Gryffindor. After all, he had

practically begged the hat to put him in Gryffindor in the first place—maybe Slytherin would have been a better

option.

Harry thought about that day, his first day in Hogwarts.

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat had so proudly declared, as Harry walked happily towards the cheering Gryffindor

table in the Great Hall and sat alongside his new friends.

He sighed heavily at that thought, but not because he suddenly regretted it…rather, it was because he had

never really thought that he was worthy. But then again Harry knew that there was no other place he would

have rather been at that time.

He knew the reason now.

It was Hermione. It was because she was there, and Ron, too, sitting there at that table, looking at him, wide-

eyed and hoping that he would join them. They were the reason he wanted the grumpy hat to put him there.

"But the damn hat should have known better," he muttered to himself.

He wished that he was brave now; he had hoped that these past eighteen months might have made him

somewhat less afraid. But now, standing in the dark of the tunnel and staring at the bright light before him, he

felt utterly horrified.

But hadn't he thought about this moment countless times before? Since he'd learned that the last Horcrux was

in Hogwarts? In his head he had rehearsed all that he would or could say to his friends, and all that they could

possibly ask him. He thought about how they would react when they saw him, thought that they would perhaps

cheer for him and not resent him.

All of these made up scenarios and thoughts were making Harry feel more and more uncertain about what to

do next and he almost didn't move until Lupin nudged him and Harry looked back.

"They are waiting," Lupin said, smiling fondly.

So Harry took a deep breath and walked into the light of the familiar room.

The Room of Requirement seemed unusually bright to him, much brighter than the last time he was here. The

room was lit by hundreds of floating candles, some half burnt. Bunk beds lined the wall. It seemed to him that

this room had been converted into a sort of refugee camp for the faces now looking at him intently. All of these

faces—faces of his friends—and their uncertain gazes made him gulp. To his horror, Harry realized that he had

forgotten everything he had thought to say to them, his carefully planned speech. About what he, Hermione,

and Ron had been doing and what they intended to do now that they were back. Why they had had to leave

Hogwarts in the first place.

Harry looked at Hermione, who at the moment was standing in between Ron and Neville, for some kind of

help, but even her expression was the same as the others. The silence he had felt before he came into the

Room of Requirement was still looming around him when, suddenly, there was a flash of light.

Harry, stunned and half blinded by it, looked in the direction of the sudden burst of light, and he saw that it was

a rather tall Colin Creevey, holding his old camera in his hands and grinning like a mad elf.

"Welcome back!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

The entire room erupted in loud cheers, and Harry was in the center of it. One by one and sometimes many at

a time came and hugged him. There were no questions, no remarks, just wishes of gratefulness that he was all

right and that he had come back for them. Harry had never been so happy in his life. He saw Hermione at the

back of the crowd standing with her back resting on the wall, smiling and looking at him proudly as everyone

was hugging him. Ron, who stood beside her with a bottle of what Harry assumed was firewhiskey, gave him a

thumbs up.

There were so many of his friends surrounding him that he wasn't even able to greet them individually,

because Harry could not figure out who was hugging him and who was next in line to do so. But then there was

an embrace at the very last moment, and the person holding him took longer than the others. Harry at first did

not notice, but then a distinctly flowery and very familiar smell drifted into his nostrils.

The person then broke away from the hug and said "Welcome back" as Harry came face to face with her. It

was Ginny Weasley.

He had thought about this too. This inevitable confrontation with Ginny. But the moment he stepped into the

Room of Requirement he had forgotten about her imminent presence. Harry remembered what he had

intended to say to her, how to make her understand the situation, about Hermione and Ron and himself. But

he had also wrongfully presumed that somehow he would be alone with her and not in the middle of every

single Gryffindor he knew.

And to make the matter even worse, someone from the back of the crowd suddenly shouted, "Kiss him!" Just

brilliant.

Instinctively, his eyes ventured towards Hermione for assistance, but she looked pale and quite blank of

expression. So, flustered, he looked at Ron, who in response finished half of his firewhiskey in one long swig.

Out of his wits with anxiety, Harry took a step back and willed himself to look at Ginny again. To his surprise,

Ginny was not paying him any attention at all, instead she was looking at Ron and Hermione. Harry took this

opportunity to take another small step back as she looked at Harry again, and then, for a brief moment, her

gaze shifted directly back to an awkward-looking Hermione.

Harry felt the whole room was involved in this back-and-forth gazing game. He just wished for everything to be

civil. Harry was about to take a third step backwards when Ginny suddenly looked at him again and this time

her stare remained upon him for a much longer time period. Harry, for better or worse, just couldn't

understand the expression on Ginny's face. He parted his lips and was about to talk when the voice from the

back of the crowd interrupted again. "Well, kiss already!"

This time Harry recognized the voice. Seamus, the bloody prat. Harry wanted nothing more than to punch him

where it would hurt the most, but at the moment he was painfully motionless. To his horror, Ginny smiled

mildly then took the necessary steps to reach him. Her face was inches away from his when Harry closed his

eyes. The kiss landed on his right cheek. Ginny broke the touch a second later then whispered in Harry's ears:

"How did you manage Ron?"

It was about that moment when Harry opened his eyes once again, utterly surprised as Ginny leaned back

from him. She was smiling!

"I…we didn't, he managed us," he answered while everyone cheered again, much to his annoyance, but he was

nevertheless happy and relieved.

"You should go to her," Ginny shouted.

It was hard for Harry to hear anything in the noise as everyone was celebrating loudly but he understood the

notion. "She is still holding her breath!" Ginny finished, still smiling.

"Thank you,'" he replied fondly and sincerely, then ventured towards a visibly relaxed looking Hermione

Granger.

"Looks like it went well, eh?" Ron stated as Harry reached them, still holding the unfinished bottle. Harry

settled between them, resting his back to the wall.

"Quite well, I'd say," he replied. "You alright?" This time the question was intended towards Hermione. She was

still a bit shaken and anxious, so she just nodded and smiled.

"She is an amazing girl," remarked Harry gratefully, to which Hermione nodded again.

"Yeah she is, but don't tell her I said that," Ron added.

"I should talk with her," Hermione said, and both boys nodded.

Ron offered Harry a bottle of firewhiskey as Hermione walked towards Ginny, who was now chatting with the

Patil twins, apparently about what just transpired.

"You'll need this tonight. Apparently it's the last bottle. Saved this just for you, mate," Ron said.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, and accepted the bottle gratefully.

Lupin, who was still standing in the darkness of the tunnel, decided not to disrupt the celebration by entering

the Room of Requirement.

"They should have their moment," he told himself, then walked back towards the bar. Aberforth Dumbledore

was sitting alone in a wooden chair behind the counter. A very old picture of his family resided in his ancient

hands. They were all smiling at him, his brother, his sister and even himself. He was once again lost in old yet

vivid memories when the portrait swung open for the second time.

"Why are you here, Remus? Did they not let you in?" Aberforth's old grumpy voice echoed inside the empty

bar.

"I was hoping you would."

Aberforth wordlessly Accioed a chair before him and motioned for Lupin to sit.

"I have only bread and beer...Muggle kind," Aberforth offered.

"Ah, the best kind there is," Lupin happily answered as the old bartender busied himself in acquiring the

refreshments. He opened a small door of a previously undetectable cupboard beside Ariana's portrait. He

handed Lupin a bottle from a small crate. It didn't have a label on it, but Lupin didn't care. He took a long swig

from it, savoring the warm taste.

"How did you get these?" Lupin inquired.

"I have my ways...besides, all the rest of the lot, our kind, were taken by the Death Eaters."

Lupin raised his bottle to Aberforth and they drank in silence for some time.

The night grew darker around the great castle as time progressed. Though it was far from midnight, the thick

fog around the Forbidden Forest made it almost impossible for a normal wanderer to see, but Severus Snape

was not just any normal man.

The boy had returned. He knew it, and somehow the boy had broken through the most powerful barrier known

to wizardry, the Hogwarts Anti-Apparation ward, along with many more protection spells. How the boy had

managed it was baffling to him.

Perhaps the girl, Snape pondered while almost running through the hazy landscape. "The boy is here and the

Dark Lord will so follow," he murmured while briskly walking towards his intended target. The Shrieking Shack.

Though the tunnel from there to the castle was carefully closed down by Snape himself to prevent any

intrusion, he had to be sure that no one had gotten through. The Death Eaters would never suspect it.

'Fools,' he thought.

He needed the boy before The Dark Lord returned. Severus Snape's ghostly figure disappeared into the fog as

he approached Hogsmeade. The Shrieking Shack was just in front of him. The boy must die, and he had to

make sure of it. It had to be him.

"So tell me, Remus" Aberforth began. "Why are you lot really here? To fight a losing battle in hopes of winning

it… Or just because my brother asked you to?"

Lupin had gotten up from his slumber and paced around the bar. He disliked questions to which he had no

answers. So he remained silent.

"Do you believe in the boy, Remus? Can he do it on his own when the time comes?"

"He will have us; he will not be alone," Lupin argued. "We've had this conversation many times before and

every time my answer remains the same. Yes, I do believe that Harry can do it."

"He is just a boy, Remus! Even my brother couldn't—"

"Enough!'" bellowed Lupin. "I have answered the same question too many times, I won't answer it again." He

looked at Aberforth sternly, but the old man was shaking his head. His eyes looked misty.

Lupin took the wooden chair that Aberforth had gotten for him and sat beside the old bartender. "I know that

war is not won with sentiment," he mused. But Lupin couldn't tell whether it was because of the amount of beer

they had just consumed or whether the old man had gotten emotional again. Lupin put his arms around

Aberforth, who in response looked at him pleadingly and asked, "Then tell me how. I need to know… He killed

my brother, Remus! I need to know what chance we have in returning the favor." The old man had definitely

gotten emotional again.

It was not that Lupin didn't want to tell. He was himself not aware of it until recently when Bill came to him

with Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas and three more surprising guests. What he heard had terrified him. He

knew now more than ever that when it came to evil, Voldemort had no limits, and he also understood why

Dumbledore had asked Harry to keep the knowledge a secret. But the old man deserved to know and

furthermore they needed all the help they could get. So he began slowly and hesitantly.

"There are these objects he made by performing the darkest of magic... these objects need to be destroyed for

him to be mortal again…before Harry... before we face the Dark Lord."

Aberforth's demeanor immediately grew darker than it already was. He had heard of them before, in his

youth. He vaguely remembered his brother mentioning these objects in his many conversations with

Grindelwald while they searched for ways to be undefeatable. Even Grindelwald resented this particular path of

being immortal. Aberforth suddenly wished for Lupin to stop, but by then it was too late. "Horcruxes," Lupin

breathed heavily. "They are called Horcruxes."

And Aberforth's eyes grew wide in recognition.