A/N: Answers and more questions, but we're getting close to the end. An enormous thank you to Melindaleo for being my blind beta on this piece and helping me dial back all the places I got too complicated and ambitious. And to Deadwoodpecker for being my "sighted beta" and cheerleader.

Harry didn't wait to stop spinning before throwing himself out of the Floo at Grimmauld Place, crashing into the kitchen table as a result. Before he'd even straightened up, a heavy hand on his shoulder impeded his attempts to go tearing up the stairs in search of Ginny.

"Wait," Bill's voice was quiet and calm, but the worry beneath it was palpable. Behind him, soft pops announced the arrival of Ron and Hermione, who'd apparently had enough wits about them to Apparate.

Harry shook off Bill's hand. "What?" he hissed. "We need to find her!" Harry tried to keep his voice quiet but his panic was rising. He could feel the familiar weakness starting to suffuse his limbs. It wasn't too strong yet but he knew what it meant. His anxiety grew. "He's here, or he was, somewhere," he said quickly.

Bill was saying a spell and pointing his wand at the door from the kitchen that led to the rest of the house. He nodded distractedly without looking at Harry. He said the spell again - it sounded like a modified Homonem Revilio -and frowned. Harry's heart plummeted. He knew he had to ask but couldn't form the words. Instead he pushed past Bill. This time, the man didn't try to stop him.

Sounds were coming from the library; someone was . . . crying? It sounded familiar but not quite human. Adrenaline allowed Harry to ignore the way his legs and head both grew heavier the closer he got to the room, and he was still upright and moving under his own power when he saw Ginny's body. Momentum propelled him forward but his knees buckled and he fell at her side with a cry. He had to force himself not to give into the pain in his head and instead focus on Ginny. He was barely aware of the movement around him - more people had arrived and were spreading out and saying words and shooting spells. But Harry could only see his girlfriend lying on the floor, her fiery hair dimmed by the darker pool of blood underneath her. She was completely still.

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Ron knew there were things he should be doing to help the curse-breakers and healers and Aurors who'd arrived at Grimmauld Place after him, but he stood frozen at the door to the library watching as his best friend worked desperately to revive his little sister, who looked very close to dead. Ginny was so pale, and the blood seemed to be everywhere, but Ron refused to believe the worst. He'd barely begun trying to accept the fact that they might not be able to find a way to save Harry; he'd never considered how much danger the rest of them might be in too. Harry was shaking Ginny by the shoulders, saying words to her that Ron couldn't - wouldn't - let himself hear. Hermione came to his side.

"She's not . . . dead," she said quietly. But something in her tone made Ron pause. He turned away from Harry and Ginny. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice breaking. It wasn't what he'd meant to say - he'd meant to ask how she knew - and the fact that Hermione didn't immediately reassure him made Ron know that she wasn'tcertain that Ginny wasn't dead.

"Bill did a spell," she began, when a sudden shout across the room made them both look up. One of the Aurors was levitating something in front of her; after a moment Ron recognized it as the silver knife Kreacher had used to give his blood for the wards on the house. The knife's blade was bloody again, and Ron didn't have to ask to know it had been used on Ginny. He felt his stomach flip.

"Where's the house-elf?" someone asked. Ron gripped Hermione's arm.

"Are you sure she isn't dead?" he asked again. In front of him, Harry was cradling Ginny in his arms and rocking her while Bill and a healer waved their wands around the both of them. Harry was nearly as pale as Ginny; he looked like he was barely holding himself upright. Ron had been watching Harry battle having Voldemort inside him for nearly seven years and the expression on his face right now was one that Ron had seen too often lately.

"He's here," Ron said suddenly to the room. Everyone froze and looked at him. "Voldemort's here. Or he's close." He knew it didn't matter if he used the real name at this point. He pointed at Harry. "Harry's near collapse." Indeed, Harry's rocking of Ginny looked more like dizzy swaying now. But he somehow managed to glare at Ron.

"I'm fine," he croaked. "Help Ginny." He looked back down at her and began speaking softly, and Ron could hear the desperation in his tone. He looked at the healer, who was still waving her wand and frowning. Ron felt a thrum of dread.

"What's wrong with her?" He spoke more harshly than he intended but the healer didn't seem to mind.

"I'm not completely sure," she said slowly. "She lost a good bit of blood, but not nearly enough to cause this injury. I've repaired the gash already and it should heal without a problem. And yet . . . It's almost as if . . ." the woman shook her head. "But it can't be. She wouldn't have . . ." The healer stopped speaking and looked fearfully around. She shook her head. "It can't be," she said again.

"Please, you have to save her." Harry's voice was hardly more than a whisper and yet his plea seemed to echo around the room.

"She's going to be okay," he said. He was talking almost to himself. "She can't . . . it's supposed to be me. Only me." He looked at Bill. "You know what to do, don't you? We need my protection. More of it. You can get it; you made them yourself."

Bill stared at Harry for a moment and then nodded. "I'm going to take down the blood wards," he said quietly. He looked around the room. "Anyone they are keeping out right now will be able to get inside. Does everyone understand that?" There were murmurs of acquiescence around the room. Harry was shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter," Ron heard him mutter. "He's already here."

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Harry didn't know - or care - how Bill pulled the blood wards he and Ginny had created out of the walls of Grimmauld Place. He saw the same red glow as when they'd gone up and held his breath as Bill and another curse breaker directed the haze over to where Ginny lay in his arms. He just knew that somehow, that previous mingling of their blood would be the thing to save her. He tried not to ask Bill to hurry. Even in the minutes he'd been holding Ginny her skin had become colder and the faint pulses of heartbeat he could feel were getting farther apart. Other than the cut on her arm - now mended by the healer - Harry couldn't see a single mark on her skin. He knew only one curse that caused so much damage with so little signature, and he knew Ginny was dying.

But she wasn't dead yet and Harry focused only on that while Bill and the other curse breaker - Tulip her name was - covered Ginny in the protection from her and Harry's blood; the protection that had been created when Harry leapt in front of the same curse Ginny had just faced. Bill had suspected Harry's action at the battle wouldn't give Ginny as much protection as Lily had given Harry and it seemed he'd been right. But it had offered some; Ginny wasn't unscathed but she also hadn't been killed by the Avadaa Kedavra, Harry told himself again. And they were going to give her more protection. And she'd be fine. For a moment, it occurred to him to wonder how Voldemort had been able to hold a wand in order to cast the spell. And although Harry could feel his presence, he wasn't bearing down on them in the library right now. Both of those facts were important, Harry knew. He needed to tell someone. Ron. He should tell Ron and Hermione so they could start figuring it out. He tried to catch their eyes to tell them but they seemed to be very far away across the room.

"It's not working." Bill's voice, terse and sure, broke Harry out of his thoughts. He shook his head.

"It has to," he said. He rubbed Ginny's arms, trying to force warmth back into them. "Try harder. My blood's strong enough. He held out his arm. "Take more if you have too."

"It doesn't work that way. The mixed blood isn't reabsorbing," Bill said. He rubbed at his face. "It should . . . I can't figure out why." He took a deep breath and tried again, his expression growing more frustrated as he looked down at Ginny's still form.

Tulip frowned.

"There's an impediment," she said. "I can't figure out . . ."

"It's because . . . mine is there too. . . Mister Weasley." The voice that interrupted was the one Harry had heard crying as he'd rushed up the stairs. He jerked his head up, feeling the edges of his vision blur. Kreacher looked exhausted. He dragged himself slowly into the room, staring at the amassed people as if he didn't really see them. His voice was barely above a whisper, every word seeming to take more effort than he could spare. One of the Aurors across the room drew his wand and pointed it at the elf; Harry could see the silver knife floating in a containment spell. He ignored it.

"The wards in the walls, we mixed our blood with Kreacher's," Harry gasped. The pain grew more intense and he struggled to hide it. Don't let him know. He looked in the direction Kreacher had come from, half expecting to see the snakelike face peering at him from the doorway. But of course no one was there. Could he let anyone know? Were they in danger this instant or did they have time?He took a deep breath, trying to think it through, but it was too much. He needed to tell someone; tell Ron and Hermione and Bill at least. They could hide their thoughts from the rest, couldn't they? Or should he keep quiet and keep them safe? And Ginny . . .

Harry couldn't focus on everything he was realizing and help Ginny at the same time. Turning his gaze away from Kreacher he made his decision quickly, knowing it was likely the wrong one. "The vials . . . in the walls . . ."

Bill jumped up. "We blended Kreacher's blood with Harry's and Ginny's for the wards in the walls but separated it before we buried more in the foundation of the house," he said. He sounded frustrated with himself for forgetting. "It'll take some effort to get it out." He looked at the house elf. "Can you help me retrieve it?" Kreacher stiffened and began rocking. "He got in, he got in, he got in," he chanted to himself. "I'm so sorry I let him in."

Bill's expression softened. "We know that, Kreacher. It's not your fault. Bill's voice was gentle, but firm. "Do you know where he is now?"

Kreacher screamed and everyone jumped. "He got in!" The elf grabbed at his ears and began pulling on them in agony and guilt.

Bill huffed a sigh of frustration. "We know that, Kreacher," he said again. "But this is very important. Where is Voldemort now?"

Kreacher stared at Bill but didn't answer. He just kept rocking more and more violently until his head was actually banging on the floor. Bill looked at Harry. "Can you . . ." he began to ask.

Harry shook his head. "Get the blood," he said heavily. "Save Ginny." If anything, her stillness had become more complete in the last minutes. "There isn't much time."

"I'll go with you, Mister Weasley." Kreacher's self-flagellation had stopped abruptly. He wiped his eyes and stood up. "I'll help you get the blood vials from the walls."

Bill gave Kreacher an odd look at the rapid change of behavior but he nodded. "That would be helpful," he said. He gestured for the elf to follow him out of the room.

"Wait." Harry couldn't let them go; images of Cedric flashed in his mind. Kill the spare. "I'll go. I . . . need to go." He didn't want to leave Ginny but he couldn't let anything happen to another Weasley because of him. He struggled to his feet and looked at Kreacher. "You stay here." He tried to make his voice sound authoritative but wasn't sure it was enough. Kreacher twisted his hands. "Master Harry," he began. Harry held up his hand to stop him.

"Just . . . stay here," he said. He couldn't think of any better order to give; the blackness was rapidly becoming too much to fight. He reached for Bill. "Help me," he said quickly. "Where do we go?"

Bill looked at him and then at Kreacher. The frown on his face deepened as he shook his head. "I'll get it. You stay with Ginny." He looked like he wanted to say something else but after a moment gave a small shrug. "I'll be back soon." He gave one more desperate look at his sister and ran out of the room.

Harry's legs couldn't hold him up anymore. Ron grabbed him as he swayed and helped him sit down at Ginny's head. Only once he had assured himself that she hadn't gotten any worse did Harry dare to look at the house-elf. To his relief, he saw that Kreacher had followed his order; it didn't look like he'd moved an inch since Harry ordered him to stay. His small body was shaking violently though, but Harry didn't have the strength to consider the effort it must be taking him. He needed space to think without the pain, but he wouldn't leave Ginny and he couldn't leave Kreacher. Instead, Harry gritted his teeth and held on.

It was probably only a few minutes but seemed like hours before Bill returned, a crystal vial clutched in his hand. Harry was sitting up straight brushing his hand gently down Ginny's face; the worst of the weakness had begun to ebb soon after Bill left. He and Ron and Hermione had exchanged worried glances as Harry began to feel better and he knew they were making the connections he had. Still, none of them spoke of it. Harry leaned down and kissed Ginny's forehead as Bill and Tulip said spells over the vial of blood.

Harry felt an odd thrum of energy course through him as his and Ginny's mingled blood floated out of the vial and turned into vapor with Tulip's spell. It gave him enough strength to turn to lift Ginny more fully into his lap. The weight of her was comforting; she just had to open her eyes. He was watching her so closely for any sign of improvement that at first he didn't realize what else was happening around him.

Ginny's skin warmed up a bit and a faint flush stained her cheeks, but just as Harry let himself breathe a sigh of relief, There was a horrible moan of pain from across the room. Harry just managed to see Kreacher stumbling towards him his weakness came crashing back. His arms gave way and he wasn't able to hold up Ginny anymore.

"Take her," he gasped to the room as everything swirled to black.

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Harry woke up at the Burrow to learn that apparently, everything had been figured out while he'd been unconscious. He was lying in a bed in the Weasley's sitting room but his head and body both felt remarkably - and not surprisingly - clear and strong.

"How's Ginny?" he asked sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the camp bed that he normally used in Ron's bedroom. He didn't have to wait for an answer; Ginny was lying on a matching bed just next to his. The color in her face was much closer to normal and Harry could see the faint reddish glow of their blood ward still surrounding her body. But she was clearly not awake.

"She's stable," said the healer sitting in the narrow space between the two cots. "Her gradual improvement has slowed, but is still progressing." She waved her wand and a fresh reddish haze settled over Ginny's body.

"What do you mean, it's slowed?" asked Harry. He ignored the healer's glare and sat down on Ginny's bed. He took her hand and squeezed, dismayed that she didn't respond. "Has she woken up at all?" He looked around at the mostly strangers in the room. Ron and Hermione weren't there, and neither was Bill. The only familiar faces were Ginny's parents, who sat together on the sofa looking serious and rather lost. Harry didn't think they'd been at Grimmauld Place earlier, but someone had obviously filled them in. The house smelled faintly sweet and floury and with a start, Harry suddenly remembered the birthday dinner Molly had planned for that night. Hisbirthday dinner, which had never gotten eaten. Instead, their daughter was lying nearby nearly dead because of him. He turned towards them. "Molly, Arthur," he began, not sure if he meant to explain or apologize or make some promise he probably couldn't keep. But Molly put up her hand.

"Don't Harry," she said, and he heard a touch of impatience beneath the worry. He looked at her, his heart plummeting. Of course she'd want him to stay away from Ginny from now on. He looked around, wondering how hard it would be to Apparate back to Grimmauld Place, and if he'd have the strength to get himself up to his room. He wouldn't have to be there long, just long enough to figure out how to place himself "beyond all mortal repair." It was sooner than he'd expected, but the events of the evening were all the proof Harry needed that it had to happen sooner rather than later. As soon as possible. He looked at Ginny. If she didn't wake up, if he wasn't able to say good bye . . . He suddenly couldn't breathe. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he didn't dare wipe them away. It was the only way to keep everyone safe he told himself again.

Molly didn't seem to notice Harry's distress. "Don't blame yourself," she said bluntly. "I know you want to. But Bill told us everything, that You Know Who put poor Kreacher under the Imperius Curse, and caused him to hurt Ginny." She shook her head. "She's so lucky you got to her so quickly. Elf magic is a bit different than human, one of the curse-breakers explained." She turned to Arthur. "Tulip was it?" He nodded and Molly continued. "Yes, Tulip. Kreacher's magic in cutting Ginny did a bit more damage than one might expect, so it's taking her longer to wake up. But it will be okay. They have the blood the two of you mixed, and it's healing her." She gave Harry a watery smile and for a minute he expected her to get up and offer him something to eat. But then she leaned back and took her husband's hand, her eyes going back to rest of her daughter.

There were a number of things wrong with what Molly had said, and Harry wasn't sure if Tulip or any of the others believed them or if they were purposely planting false information so that the Weasleys didn't worry too much. He looked around at the people in the room; a curse breaker and healer were seated in a corner talking quietly and occasionally making small puffs of smoke come out of their wands, and by the door, Kingsley was looking over a piece of parchment with two Aurors. With a jolt, Harry realized it was his will, which he'd left on a table in the library. Kingsley caught his eye and deliberately shrunk it down and slipped it into his robes. "We'll discuss this later," he said quietly. "Right now, I have some other questions for you."

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked quickly. He looked down at Ginny; had her hand twitched in his? He wasn't sure, and didn't want to move in case it happened again. "And where's Bill? If any of them had gone back to Grimmauld Place . . .

"Bill and a few others went back to the Little Hangleton Graveyard," said Kingsley pointedly. "They thought they had a lead on You Know Who's whereabouts. He's not at Grimmauld Place anymore."

"How do you know?" asked Harry sharply. He doubted Voldemort would have made his whereabouts known.

"We talked to the house-elf," said one of the Aurors. "Or tried to; poor beast's gone nearly round the bend. You Know Who put him under the Imperius, you know." There was no sense that the Auror didn't believe what he said and Harry didn't bother to correct him. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione first. "What did Kreacher say?" he asked, deliberately using the elf's name.

"He kept apologizing, over and over, for letting him in," said the other Auror. "And rocking back and forth and hitting his head on the wall."

"Did you stop him?" asked Harry. He looked down at Ginny again. Even unconscious, he didn't like talking about these things in front of her, but at the same time, he refused to leave. The Aurors didn't say anything and Harry left out a huff of frustration. "How do you know You Know Who is gone from Grimmauld Place?" he asked again.

"The elf clearly wasn't under the Imperius anymore," said the first Auror. "He's crazy, yes, but it was all his own actions. He's devastated to have let You Know Who into the house; it must have happened while he was up working at Hogwarts; You Know Who put him under the curse there and forced him to bring him to Grimmauld Place. We suspect he's long gone now though. He probably went there to attack you, hurt Ginny instead, and then left. He's still incredibly weak; he'll need time to regroup."

Harry caught KIngsley's eye. The Minister have the tiniest shake of his head and Harry nodded at the Auror. "Well . . . that's good news then," he said finally. "It gives us some time."

The second Auror nodded. "It does," he said confidently. "We'll find him soon, I'm sure of it."

Harry wished he could match the man's enthusiasm. Fortunately, he didn't have to say much more. Ron and Hermione appeared at the door and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. They were the only people he wanted to talk to right now. Well, except for Ginny, of course. He looked at her lying on the bed and wondered what everyone would say if he just crawled under the covers next to her for a while. He was almost beyond caring what anyone else thought, actually. Only the presence of Molly and Arthur prevented him from it.

The healer did the spell with their mingled blood again and Harry frowned. Something about the ritual niggled at the back of his mind but he couldn't catch the thought enough to figure it out. It didn't seem to have much effect and Harry saw the healer's lips tighten. Molly had gotten up and now she was brushing her hand over Ginny's hair. Arthur came and stood beside her. "She'll recover," he said quietly. She just needs some time." He looked at Harry. "Maybe when Kreacher's feeling a bit better, he can come and . . . reverse whatever he did," he said. "That might make him feel better, wouldn't it?"

Harry only just managed not to blurt out that there was nothing Kreacher could do to save Ginny. He was nearly positive she'd somehow been struck by the Avada Kedavra and as far as Harry knew, just the fact that she wasn't dead was some kind of miracle. Maybe if it had been Molly to jump in front of the curse instead of him, Ginny might be fine right now, but obviously Harry's love hadn't been quite enough.

He pushed aside the thought that Molly would have been killed and the family would be mourning even more than just the loss of Fred right now. He gestured to Ron and Hermione. "I need to talk to you," he said.

Only when they were ensconced in Ron's room and protected by every ward the three of them knew, did Harry talk.

"They have it wrong down there, the Aurors do," he said quickly. Vol-You Know Who didn't put Kreacher under the Imperius Curse."

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. "We didn't think so either," said Hermione. "He . . . possessed him, didn't he?"

Harry nodded grimly. "I don't think house elves can be Imperiused," he said. "I think their magic prevents it. Of course, You Know Who wouldn't know that." He shook his head to himself. "Kreacher was fighting it the entire time," he said. "It must have destroyed him." Harry had never felt quite as strongly about Kreacher as he did Dobby, but the image of the house-elf, fighting Voldemort in his head so that he could give Harry needed information was not one he'd soon forget.

"And he didn't attack Ginny just because you weren't there," added Ron. "Although we let everyone else believe that."

"He wanted Ginny's blood," said Harry quietly. He'd only just put it all together when Kingsley had said Bill had gone back to the graveyard. "He's planning the resurrection ritual again," he said, feeling sick. "Ginny is the blood of the foe this time. And he must have gotten a bone of his father after all."

"But who's the loyal servant?" asked Ron. "That's what we've been trying to figure out."

Harry rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm sure he thinks it will be Kreacher," he said. "Voldemort'll think he can possess Kreacher and that will make him his servant. It's not going to work though." Harry was back to using the wizard's real name; it wasn't like he was off in hiding anymore. He grimaced. "And when he can't, he's likely to kill Kreacher." Harry felt sick, thinking about Voldemort's depravity. "I don't know how to stop him though. If it's not Kreacher, he'll just find someone else."

"We should warn Kreacher anyway," said Hermione. "Hide him away or something."

"He already knows," said Harry. "And he won't run away. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was the elf's loyalty. "He'll endure possession again if he has to." He frowned. "But where do you think Voldemort is right now?"

It was nearly morning by the time Harry, Ron and Hermione finally stopped talking. Harry couldn't believe that it was just the previous evening that he'd discovered that Ginny had been attacked. Several times he'd gone downstairs to check on her, unsurprised to see that her improvement seemed to have stagnated. Again, a thought about why flitted in and out of his brain and again, he couldn't catch it. Frustrated, he finally agreed to try to sleep; Molly pointed out that he was swaying on his feet from exhaustion and he allowed himself to be marched up to Ron's room where the camp bed had been replaced. He'd promised Kingsley a discussion about the will, and Harry knew he needed to be sharp for that, lest the man suspect Harry's grand plan to save everyone and pull some high-level Ministry move to try to stop him. So far, neither Ron nor Hermione had revealed his secret and for that, Harry was grateful. Granted, he suspected that it was what they'd been talking about before they'd come back to the Burrow earlier, but if they weren't going to say anything about it, neither was he.

And in between all those other thoughts, was Ginny. Harry almost couldn't believe the irony of the fact that the one thing that was preventing him from sneaking off to rid himself of the Horcrux was that Ginny wasn't able to hear him tell her goodbye. He wanted her to recover and wake up more than anything and yet, once that happened, he was going to have to break her heart. Once or twice he even hoped she might be faking her slumber, just to keep him around longer, but he knew he wasn't imagining the increasingly frustrated looks on the healers' faces when they examined her, or the way that her mouth looked a little more slack each time he kissed her lightly, which he did every time he came to sit with her. Molly was usually there too, knitting or reading aloud from Quidditch Today or just sitting and watching her daughter. Harry wanted to reassure Molly and Arthur that it was all going to be okay, but he had no such luxury of knowing. Instead, he just held Ginny's hand for hours on end and tried not to think of anything at all.

On the third day, Harry woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He'd been dreaming again of Ginny and why she wasn't getting better, and felt right on the cusp of an answer when he woke up. Ron was snoring in the bed next to him and the house was quiet and still. Harry knew Ginny was being tended in the sitting room, and he slipped out of bed and into his dressing gown and slippers before journeying down the stairs to see her.

The room was dim and mostly empty; it seemed that even Molly and Arthur had finally given into the need to sleep. Only a healer, one Harry hadn't seen before, sat watch over Ginny's bed. Her hands were on top of the blankets and Harry sat down and took one, hoping against hope that this time she'd squeeze back. She didn't, and he looked at the healer in dismay.

The man shook his head. "Not yet," he said in answer to Harry's unspoken question. He picked up his wand. "We know the blood ritual should work, it just doesn't seem to be strong enough." He waved his wand, a rather short and stubbly one, and more of the red mist floated over her.

Harry jumped up. "I have something stronger," he said quickly. He looked around, as if expecting a team of Aurors - or at least Ron and Hermione - to be standing there to stop him. But no one else was there. The healer looked at him curiously. "Well, if anyone can figure it out, it will be you," the man said. "I'll take whatever you can give me." He lowered his voice. "She's not getting better right now," he said quietly. "No matter what we tell her parents."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said. "But I have an idea."

Slipping silently out of the Burrow, Harry hurried to the Apparition point. He could only imagine how eerie Grimmauld Place was going to be in the middle of the night, inhabited by a nearly insane house-elf who may or may not be possessed by Voldemort as well. But Harry had no choice. Taking a deep breath and thinking mostly of Ginny, he turned on the spot.