Harry took Bill's words to heart. The moment he got home, he wrote Ron a letter, telling him that he wanted to talk. Then, he waited. For nearly a week, Harry waited for some kind of response, something that told him that Ron got his letter.

And he heard nothing.

To be honest, Harry wasn't particularly surprised by this lack of response. Ron was notoriously stubborn even on the best of days and it was worse when he was angry. Right now, Ron was likely about as angry as he had ever been and for good reason.

A week later, after a check-in meeting with Hermione at his house where she told him that Bill and Malfoy had made only a little progress in the translation, Harry sent another letter. Again, he waited and got no response.

This time, he sent another letter two days later, not wanting to waste time. He continued scouring the Hogwarts library for information that could help them, but he found nothing. Between that and Ron's silence, Harry was frustrated yet he remained determined on both accounts.

Every day, he woke up and wrote Ron a letter. He never expressed much in the letter, just a desire to talk, to explain himself, and to apologize. Then, he returned to Hogwarts where he continued reading as much as he could about the culture of the Nordic invaders. He learned everything there was to know about their customs, their mythology, and even their diet.

Harry might not have learned anything else about Ogham or how to use the Arch or even where Legion came from, but he would certainly have a lot of useless knowledge around Norse culture.

Then, Harry would get home and he would write another letter. Some days, the letters would be almost identical. On other days, they were noticeably different. For seventeen days, Harry wrote letters and researched until finally, late one night in the beginning of September, Harry heard a knock on the door.

At this point, that Harry knew was that it was not Hermione, who had a tendency to knock in fours. This knock was only one single pound on the door. Harry got up from his bed and raced to the door, ripping it open.

Standing in front of him was one Gabrielle Delacour with a stack of letters in her hand.

"Um, hello, Gabrielle."

"Evening. Care to let me inside," Gabrielle replied firmly. It was worded very pleasantly and yet it was clear that it was not a question.

"Of course, of course," Harry said, swinging the door wide and allowing Gabrielle the space to enter. Immediately, Gabrielle strode in the house and dropped the stacks of letters on the table before taking a seat.

Gabrielle was much like her sister in certain ways. She was brash, direct, and a bit arrogant. But whereas Fleur often spoke circles around topics of conflict and was prone to emotional outbursts, Gabrielle was as literal as a person could be and didn't waste time with silly things like emotions. It was why she was a good match for Ron.

It was also why Gabrielle and Harry had historically not gotten along very well. Even today, ten years after the war, Harry was largely ruled by his emotions, which guided him to where he believed he should go. Gabrielle didn't have time for that kind of response and whenever Ron had gone to Harry for advice, Gabrielle could be sure to give Ron the exact opposite advice.

"Sit down, Harry," Gabrille said firmly. Normally, Harry would have pushed back against the idea of being ordered to sit down in his own home, but he was admittedly curious why Gabrielle was here at all and so he sat.

"Now, this is all very nice, Harry, but I'm afraid your effort has gone unnoticed by my boyfriend," Gabrielle said, gesturing at the pile of envelopes on his table. "He hasn't read a single one of your letters."

Harry's heart sank. He knew that Ron was upset, but he never thought in a million years that Ron would just ignore everything that Harry sent him. He had hoped that Bill's insight would prove true and that despite his anger, Ron would desire reconciliation between him and Harry.

It appears that he was wrong.

Then, Harry noticed something.

"Some of these have been opened."

"Oh yes, Ron hasn't read them, but I did."

"You did?" Harry asked, uncertain of what that meant.

"I did. You see I don't particularly find it easy to forgive people who offend me. In fact, when one of my friends does something to hurt me, it's usually Ron who encourages me to forgive them. Of course, none of my friends have slept with Ron."

Harry knew that whatever was coming, these kinds of jabs at Harry's character would be part of it. That was how Gabrielle spoke anyway and now, she was angry, which would only make it worse.

"To be clear, Ron is still pissed at you and rightfully so. But, I know that if I were Ron, he would be trying to convince me to give the person who wrong me another chance. Ron, unlike myself, believes in people and in second chances. Despite all of my personal feelings on the matter, I tried to convince Ron that he needed to see what you were saying. I reminded him that he has encouraged me to forgive a number of times over the years, but he refused to do so. After a couple days, my curiosity got the better of me and I pulled one out and read it."

"And?"

"I have to admit, I found your writing rather appalling," Gabrielle said with a smirk. "However, the sheer effort that you put into bombarding our home with letters every day told me that I should give you the chance to explain yourself since you refused to do so in your letters."

"I wanted to talk to Ron in person," Harry replied. "It seemed like it wouldn't be as genuine if I just wrote it down on paper."

"I supposed as much," Gabrielle replied. "Now, before I hear anything more from you, I have a question for you. Your response will tell me whether or not I put any further effort into trying to help you out here."

"OK?"

Gabrielle leaned forward, her head settling over her crossed arms on the table so that she was just inches away from Harry.

"Do you love Hermione Granger?"

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Do you love her? It's a simple question, Harry."

"What the hell has that got to do with anything?" Harry questioned.

"Because if you love her, then all the pain and heartache that Ron is going through right now, it might just be worth it for him."

"What do you mean by that?"

Gabrielle leaned back in her seat.

"I know Ron better than I know anyone in the world. I know how he likes his coffee in the morning. I know that he sleeps with his socks on until about three in the morning when he kicks them off because he's too warm. I know that he prefers his meat to be cooked far too long, but I do it for him anyway because I love him. I know just about every little detail there is to know about him.

"Right now, I know one thing about Ron: he's angry, angrier than I've ever seen him. But everyone assumes that he's angry because Hermione cheated on him."

"That's not it?" Harry asked. Harry had assumed that Ron was chiefly angry because Hermione had cheated on him and Harry had been the offending part. Of course, the fact that they had hidden that for years was another problem, but not the primary one in Harry's mind.

It appeared that Harry was wrong.

"No, that's not it," Gabrielle replied. "You see, Ron has spent the better part of a decade redefining who he is as a person. When I first met him, he was angry, hostile to all viewpoints other than his own, and completely incapable of accepting criticism of himself or those that he loved."

"But as time has passed, he has changed and not because anyone told him that he had to. He didn't change for you or Hermione. He didn't even change for me. No, Ron changed because he wanted to become a better man. When we first started dating, he revealed to me that his lowest moment was when he left you and Hermione on the Horcrux Hunt. He accepted that the Horcrux influenced him to act how he did, but that even then, it still didn't excuse his behavior."

"So, over the years, Ron has worked to become a more understanding person, someone that can be trusted to receive bad news and not explode. Someone that is more thoughtful of others, someone that places others before himself. Despite all those changes, which I'm sure you've seen, you couldn't tell him that you were sleeping with Hermione. To be honest, and at least partially fair to you, if you had told him right when it happened, he might not have reacted very well, but there were multiple times over the years that you could have told him. Yet, he learned of it from Legion, which you also did not tell him about, despite the fact that it clearly threatens his safety."

"I say all this, not to make you feel bad, although I'm sure it does. I tell you this so that you understand that Ron, as angry as he is, still cares for you and Hermione greatly. The pain that he feels so acutely right now is largely due to the fact that he has conflicting emotions on the subject. On one hand, he is angry at the two of you for what you've done and the fact that you lied about it. On the other hand, he still loves both of you dearly and wants both of you to be happy. So, I'll ask again, Harry: do you love Hermione?"

Harry had thought about that question ever since Ron interrupted them at Hermione's home. Hermione had already told Harry as much, but Harry was never given the opportunity to reply. If he had, what would he have said? For years, both of them had pushed back against the idea that there was more to their relationship than friendship.

But was that due to the fact that they had been lying to Ron or because they actually believed it to be true?

In either case, Harry didn't have to think long about his answer. In fact, it came to him far easier than Harry could have ever imagined.

"Yes," Harry admitted softly. "Yes, I do."

"Does she know that?" Gabrielle asked.

"I...we haven't had the chance to talk about it."

"Well, then figure out this whole Legion thing and get yourself that opportunity," Gabrielle said firmly. "Listen, I know that you and I have not particularly gotten along, but I think that's more due to our nature than any true sense of dislike for one another. But to be clear, if I was given the choice in this situation, I would have hung you in the public square for what you did to Ron."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

"And yet, despite how angry he is right now, I know that's not what he would want. You are his best friend and he needs you, just like you need him. That means that despite my personal feelings for how you have treated him, I will do this one thing for you."

"Do what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Monday at eight, be at The Jester. I'll talk to George and get the backroom cleared out for the two of you."

"Really?"

"Really," Gabrielle confirmed with a slight smile. "Be warned, Harry: you're only going to get one chance. If he doesn't like what you say and he walks away, I'm not going to help you again. Think about what you want to say and say it well."

"I will."

Gabrielle stood and marched towards the door. However, just before she got there, she turned back to Harry.

"For what it's worth, Harry, I do think he wants the two of you to be happy. And for my Knuts, I don't think you're a bad person, but something like this can never happen again. Because if it does, it won't be Ron you have to worry about."

"Of course," Harry said urgently, "and Gabrielle, thank you."

"Don't thank me, Harry. I'm putting you in a room with a wounded animal. It's going to fight back before it lets you help."

The next few days were some of the hardest of Harry's life. Even when he was trying to focus on his research, Harry's mind often wandered towards his upcoming meeting with Ron. He thought about what he would say, how Ron would respond, and what Harry would say in return. Harry found that focusing on anything else was almost impossible. In the end, if Ron didn't like what Harry had to say, Ron could walk away and Harry could lose the first friend he ever made in the wizarding world forever.

When the time finally came, Harry did as Gabrielle said. He arrived at The Jester at ten minutes before eight to find the backroom empty with a single exception. It had been awhile since Harry had seen George at The Jester, considering how busy he was with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. But the moment that Harry saw George, Harry knew that George was there for a reason.

"George," Harry said, freezing the moment he stepped into the room.

"Harry," George said, leaning against the long bar on the far side of the room, "come have a drink with me."

If there was ever a time that Harry was worried that someone might kill him, it was now. George, unlike his older brother, was notoriously ruthless to those people who offended him or his family. While Ron had always been George's favorite target, it also meant that Ron was one of the few people that George went out of his way to protect.

Ron was his only little brother after all.

George reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Fred's Finest and two glasses. Then, he poured a pair of steep shots before sliding one over to Harry. George took the glass in front of him and turned to Harry, raising his glass.

"Good luck, Harry. You're going to need it."

Then, he downed the glass and Harry did the same. George grabbed Harry's glass and filled both of them almost to the top, an amount too large of a shot.

This was clearly a sipping pour and one that George intended to savor.

"Thank you, George," Harry almost whispered, his voice still feeling the effects of the liquor sliding down his throat.

"Don't thank me. Gabi told me what's going on and she made the point that we owe it to you to give you a chance to explain yourself."

"Still, you didn't have to do that."

"No, I didn't," George admitted, "but that's what we do for family, right?"

The line was clearly a shot at Harry and one that Harry deserved. Harry, rather than push back, took it in stride.

"It is."

"Just know that if Ron walks away from this, he's not the only one you'll lose. You broke Mom's heart. When she first found out, you know I don't think I've ever seen her that mad. What's worse is that she said she was pretty sure she knew that you two were together. But she wouldn't believe it because she knew, she just knew, that if something like that had happened, you would have told us."

The thought of an irate Molly Weasley terrified Harry. While he had seen her upset, it had never been directed at him. But the idea of disappointing Molly Weasley, who had been the mother that he had never had, made Harry want to throw up.

"So, you'll get your ten minutes," George said as he noticed the door open on the far side of the room. "Use them well."

It seemed like it took years for the door to open and even longer for Gabrielle to enter the room, followed closely by Ron. For a moment, he wore a relaxed smile on his face, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Then, he saw Harry and before Harry could even process Ron's appearance, it changed, rage washing over his entire being.

It was clear that Ron had not known that Harry would be here tonight. Ron turned to leave when Gabrielle stepped in front of him.

"Gabi, get out of my way!" Ron roared.

"No," Gabrielle replied. While she may have been significantly shorter than Ron, she was clearly not intimidated by the redhead towering over her.

"Excuse me?" Ron bellowed. While Harry didn't feel like there was any chance that Ron was going to hurt Gabrielle, he was certainly on the edge of truly blowing his top.

"You're going to sit in here for ten minutes and you are going to listen," Gabrielle said, her voice as even as it had ever been.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I said so," Gabrielle snapped, "and because if you don't, then I'll leave you."

That certainly wasn't a threat that Harry had expected to be thrown around today. The look on Ron's face told Harry that something similar was happening in Ron's mind.

"What?"

"If at the end of ten minutes, you can't find any reason to forgive him, then you and I will walk, no questions asked. But if you even so much as open this door before that time, I'll leave."

"Why?" Ron scoffed. "You don't even like Harry."

"So what? He's been your best friend since you were eleven. Did he do some shitty things to you? Yes. Still, you'll hear him out."

Ron's frustration and, if Harry was being completely honest, confusion was reaching peak levels, causing Ron to retreat from Gabrielle and begin pacing the central aisle of the room.

"I don't get it. You told me that you would castrate him if you got the chance. You told me that you wanted to hang both of them from The Tower of London! Why the hell are you trying to get me to forgive him?"

"I'm not," Gabrielle said simply, "but I know that you want to. You just need some help."

Ron's face changed not one bit at that comment. Eventually, he nodded slightly, which Gabrielle clearly took as his approval of this plan. Gabrielle looked over Ron's shoulder to Harry.

"Good luck."

George clapped Harry on the shoulder before both he and Gabrielle walked out the door, leaving Harry with the aforementioned wounded animal. Even when Harry and Ron had been angry at each other, whether it was fourth year or during the Horcrux Hunt, they had never been unsure of what to say.

Now, after days of practicing what he wanted to say, Harry was speechless.

"Well?" Ron said, still facing away from him. "You going to say anything?"

"I...do you want to sit down?" Harry said, gesturing towards the tables that lined the room. Ron grunted and then took a seat at one of the tables near him. Before Ron could protest too much, Harry took the seat across from him. Still, Ron stared at his hands, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"So, there's a lot that I want to say," Harry said, his hands sweating profusely as he spoke. "First, I know that there's a lot for me to apologize for. For sleeping with Hermione in the first place, lying to you about that, lying to you about what we were doing, Legion: that's just the short list, I know. I have come to the realization that I have not been a very good friend to you or to anyone else really over the last few years."

Ron remained staring at his hands. He wasn't screaming so Harry took that as a sign to keep talking.

"You see, I think I just got used to the idea of keeping secrets. We both know that-"

"Save it," Ron barked, finally looking up at Harry.

"What?" Harry eventually replied.

"Bill told me what you told him. Your theory on how secrets became your life and all that nonsense."

"I don't think it's nonsense," Harry protested.

"Oh, it's nonsense. You never had any problems with secrets as long as you were the one keeping them. You kept plenty of things from plenty of people with one exception: you never kept anything from Hermione or me."

Harry couldn't really argue that point unfortunately. Ron was right. Harry had spent his life keeping secrets. Ron was also right that the only secrets that really bothered Harry were the ones kept from him.

But if it wasn't secrecy that kept Harry from telling Ron about Hermione, then what is it? As Harry thought about it, he realized that there was only one possible answer.

"You're right," Harry admitted. "I never kept anything from you before this. You're right that I don't get to say that keeping secrets was easier, mostly because it wasn't. Lying to you was hard, but it wasn't as hard as admitting the real truth. The real truth is that I was a coward. I could have told you hundreds of different times and I didn't. I made a mistake and I was too afraid to own up to it. Over time, I let that fear own me and that's why we're here today."

"Why would you feel that you had to lie to me?" Ron asked. "We both know that I would have been upset about you sleeping with Hermione, but I think I would have gotten over it."

"Ron, I spent years trying to convince you that I wasn't a threat to your relationship with Hermione," Harry explained. "I was so worried that if we told you that I slept with Hermione, that you would think that I had been lying all those years. I didn't want that. When Hermione made the decision to break up with you, that made it easier to simply keep it secret. You weren't dating anymore and so it wasn't going to hurt you if you didn't know."

"Funny how that worked out, huh?" Ron replied, a dark satisfaction in his voice. "So that's it? You lied because it was easier?"

Was that all there was to it? Harry thought for a moment, but when the answer came to him, he knew that he should have realized it years ago.

"I told myself that I was protecting you by lying...but I was also protecting myself. By lying to you, I thought I was sparing you pain. What I really was doing was making sure that I kept you around. I also lied to keep myself from realizing the truth about how I felt about Hermione."

At that, Ron finally sat up straight and truly looked at Harry. The look on his face was entirely unreadable, but Harry knew what was going to come out of his mouth regardless.

"Do you love her?"

Unlike when Gabrielle asked him, this time, Harry didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Yes, I do," Harry replied, watching as Ron's face contorted slightly. "I admit that I don't know how long I've loved her, but I do love her. She's...well, over the last couple of years, she's become the one person that I feel truly like myself around."

"I would say that hurts, but it's not like you could have truly been yourself around me," Ron replied, jabbing the knife in a little deeper this time.

"It didn't help," Harry admitted, "and I know that this thing with Legion hasn't helped my case."

Ron raised a hand to stop Harry at that.

"Listen, I'm pissed about a long list of things right now. But I can understand that you were doing your job. Would I have told you if I were in your situation? I'd like to think so, but I know the amount of pressure you were under. Trust me, I'm not happy about the whole thing, but you can consider yourself forgiven for that."

Unfortunately, that did nothing to remove the weight that had been buried deep in Harry's stomach ever since Harry had found out about his relationship with Hermione.

"Back to the other thing," Harry whispered, "I know that I lied to you. I know that I lied to you about a lot of different things and for a long time. If you gave me time, I could sit here and come up with dozens of reasons why I did that. We both know that none of them would be a good enough reason for not having told you.'

"For that, you shouldn't forgive me. Gabrielle said it to me when we spoke and she was right. I did something to you that no one should do to even their close friends, let alone their best friend, their brother. I admit that I have done something that cannot truly ever be forgiven or forgotten."

"I can't fix that. Not today, not tomorrow, or next week. Probably not next month and maybe not even by next year. But I want to make things better, Ron. I really, desperately do. I don't want to live with this pit of guilt and regret in my stomach all the time. I'm tired of hiding things and I'm tired of lying."

"I absolutely understand if you walk away right now and never talk to me again. I would hate that, but it would be a punishment that I rightfully deserve. But I would like another chance to prove to you that I am still the friend you thought I was."

Ron sat across from Harry, taking Harry's speech with his eyes aimed off in the distance. Still, Harry knew that Ron was listening. In fact, Ron often listened better when he wasn't looking at you. Something about facial expression distracting from his ability to listen.

So, Harry wasn't surprised when Ron responded in kind.

"I'm too pissed at you to try and fix things right now," Ron admitted, a sentence that caused something like an anchor to drop into Harry's guts. "But, you should be thankful, Harry Potter. Thankful that you have friends and family that still believe in you. When I found out about this, I told everyone in my family and immediately, they were all pissed at both of you."

"But over time, as I continued to rant and rave about what a horrible person you were, they all began reminding me of the times that you stood by me, even when I didn't deserve it. Now, I would argue that I never fucked your girlfriend, but their point was well taken."

"Then, Bill came by my house after you met with him. He told me that you seemed lost, broken, even if you were working on a question, the one thing keeping you going. And then, Hermione came to visit."

"You talked to Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "She came to my house and we talked through how all of this happened. She reminded me just how awful I had been on the night that the two of you first slept together. She told me that it wasn't an excuse for what she had done, but I'm not so sure of that. Either way, that's not important. What was important is that she reminded me of the number of times that you put yourself out there for me, even after the two of you hooked up. You were there for me. Whether it was out of love or guilt, I can't be entirely certain right now, but you were there."

Harry wasn't entirely certain that he should get points for that, considering the amount of guilt that Harry felt over the years about this whole situation. Still, he was pleased that Ron seemed rational enough to consider that at all.

"She also told me that you were the one that wanted to tell me and that she didn't let you."

"Well, I-she never forbid me from telling you, Ron," Harry explained. "Honestly, that doesn't make it better. I just chose her over you."

"Mate, just to be clear, I'll choose Gabrielle over you on almost everything for the rest of my life," Ron replied, which elicited a small laugh from the both of them. "And this is Hermione we're talking about. Even if the two of you never got together, she was always going to be the most important person in your life."

"That's not true. You were-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ron interjected. "Whatever you were going to say was going to be another lie and I don't want to hear it. I'm not so weak that I can't stand to hear that someone is more important than me. I'm not fourteen anymore. I've grown, I've changed. Dammit, that's why this fucking upset me so much. It's like fifteen years have gone by but the two of you are still treating me like I'm a fifth year whose is confused over how a girl can feel both attracted to someone and grieve over the death of their former boyfriend."

Ron leaned forward. "Hermione is the most important person in your world, Harry. She has been since fourth year and we both know it. For a while, you would have been considered the most important person in my world, but even if everything were perfect between the two of us, it simply wouldn't be the case anymore. I have Gabi."

For the longest time, Harry had been content to be the second most aware person in the Trio. No one could touch Hermione, obviously, and for years, Ron had been about as aware of the world around him as a pet rock.

But Ron was right. He had changed, he had matured. Ron Weasley now understood the world and the people around him far better than Harry did, likely because Ron Weasley actually spent time in the world. He didn't hide from difficult emotions or conversations anymore. He embraced them.

Harry had always been fond of Ron and he did truly love Ron like a brother. But for the first time, Harry could honestly say that he looked up to Ron and how he had grown and developed over the years. Harry only hoped that one day, he could follow Ron's example.

"Speaking of Gabi, I suppose you should know that we're getting married next summer."

Ron Weasley was getting married? Harry's mind froze for a moment as he considered the possibility. But now that Harry had a more accurate reading of the man who sat before him, this information made all the sense in the world. Ron was twenty-eight years old, a successful businessman, and a clearly responsible partner.

He was ready to start a family.

Would Harry ever reach that point in life, he wondered to himself. Even after the war, his life had been too consistently reckless to even entertain the thought of "settling down." But at that thought, Harry suddenly found Hermione at the forefront of his mind. Would she want to do that? Would she want to do that with him? Suddenly, there were a thousand questions and possibilities that Harry had never considered before.

But most importantly, Ron Weasley, his best friend since the age of eleven, was getting married.

"Congratulations," Harry said. "She really is something else."

"She is. She certainly has a good sense about people, despite her refusal to accept that being emotional about things is acceptable sometimes."

"When did it happen?" Harry asked.

"A couple of weeks ago. Only my family knows at the moment," Ron said. "We're telling her family next weekend when we visit. I was going to tell you at your birthday party but things got out of hand pretty quickly that night."

"Yeah, they did."

Just like at the beginning of their conversation, an uncomfortable silence washed over the room. Harry looked down at his watch.

It had been fourteen minutes.

Harry looked up at Ron and noticed that he had been doing the same thing.

"So, are we…"

"We're not good, Harry," Ron said firmly. "You hurt me and you hurt my family, your family in a certain way. We can't forget that this happened and it's not something that's going to fade away easily."

Harry had always known that this was a possibility. Harry braced himself for the worst.

"But-"

But?

"But, we can rebuild. We rebuilt after the Goblet of Fire. We rebuilt after I left the Horcrux Hunt. Even though this is different, I owe it to you and to the years we put in together to give you the chance to put things right. I honestly believe that we can rebuild again. It's not going to be easy. I'm going to hate you for a while, dislike you for longer and maybe, if everything goes right, I'll like you again one day. Before even that begins, I'll need some time and some space to get things back in order before we try and restore what we've lost, but when the time comes, I do want to try."

Harry was on the verge of tears. Over the years, Harry's largest concern was that if Ron had ever discovered the truth about Harry's relationship with Hermione, he would simply walk away from Harry and never look back. Being given even a sliver of hope, the tiniest of chances that things could be put back together, that was all Harry needed and that's certainly all he could have asked for.

Ron stood, clearly indicating that their conversation was over for the time being. Harry was about to do the same when something suddenly whipped by his head, causing Harry to duck. Turning around, Harry saw that it was a small piece of parchment that had been enchanted to look like an owl. The paper owl darted around the room, bumping into the walls around them.

"What the hell is that?" Ron asked. Harry had no answer for him. They simply watched as the owl darted from one wall to the other, only stopping when it hit the wall. Eventually, the magic of the owl seemed to wear off and it slowly drifted down onto the table between the two of them.

Harry reached forward and grabbed the owl, opening it to find a short note on the inside.

Mr. Potter,

I hope you have enjoyed your time off. Now, the real fun begins.

You have twenty-four hours.

P.S. Home is where the heart is.

Harry turned the paper over, looking for more information, but he found nothing. Twenty-four hours? For what? And what did that postscript even mean? Harry began to cast a few detection charms on the paper, hoping to reveal more information. After the third spell, the paper suddenly got very warm, forcing Harry to drop it onto the table where it immediately caught on fire. In moments, the paper was engulfed in flames and it didn't take much longer for the flames to reduce the paper to ash.

And that's when Harry noticed something very out of the ordinary. The ash itself didn't simply rest on the table. The moment the paper began to break down, the ash started reforming itself into something new: a lock of hair. Once the fire went out, Harry reached down and picked up the hair. It was almost black, almost the same color as his own, but the hair was much longer than Harry's was.

"Is that hair?" Ron asked.

"Yes."

"Why did someone send you hair?"

"I'm not certain," Harry said, a feeling of worry creeping into his throat. He had a day to figure something out and this was clearly his only clue.

What was it?

It was at that moment that the hair gave Harry the clue: it changed color. Within just a couple seconds, the hair went from black to almost white with a few hints of grey. The hair changed color, Harry realized in horror. The only person that he knew could do that was…

"Teddy?" Ron asked. "Is the letter from Legion?"

Harry nodded, fear washing over him. Harry had felt hopeless in the past, but he had always been able to work through it. But this was different. The gauntlet had been laid down: Harry Potter had one day to find his godson.

If he failed, the child would certainly die.

Harry's legs gave out at that thought and he collapsed onto the floor. Almost immediately, Ron was at his side, making sure that he was alright. While Harry attempted to collect himself, Ron stood and began to pace. Eventually, he turned back to Harry.

"What do we do?"

Of all the things that Ron could have said in that moment, that was not what Harry had expected.

"What?"

"Legion has Teddy. We need to find him. How do we do that? What do we do?"

Harry was confused.

"You're going to help?"

At that comment, Ron reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to his feet and slamming him against the wall behind him.

"You and I may have problems but Teddy is ten, Harry. Do you think I could live with myself if there was something that I could have done to help him, but I didn't because I was too pissed at you? Now, what do we need to do?"

Harry's mind raced, albeit with the speed of someone who had accidentally stepped into a tar pit. What could they do? There were a lot of things that they could do, but before they did that, there was one person that they needed to bring into the loop.

"We need to go see Hermione."