Ah, another wonderful Tuesday evening, which means another wonderful chapter for all to read! Not much for us to discuss here, so why not plunge right on in, and don't forget to leave your thoughts in the form of a review. Enjoy!

Chapter Three

Departure

Hermione wasn't remotely surprised to find that Mrs. Weasley made every effort to keep the five of them separated and busy with preparations for the wedding so that they had little to no time to speak with each other. They all saw the tactic for what it was, a mother's desperate bid to keep those she cared about close.

Even still, they pretended to not notice her attempts to waylay them from their important preparations, and nightly Hermione would sneak up to Ron's room, where the four boys were staying, and they would discuss where to start searching for Horcruxes.

They still lacked any leads of which to speak, so most of the time they simply mused where the remaining three were hidden. It was obvious that the snake would always be close to Voldemort, and with the cup and mysterious other items Merlin-knew-where, they're only lead to follow was the locket that Harry, Faykan and Dumbledore had found in the cave.

Faykan absently levitated the fake locket in the air, and they all watched it slowly turning in the dim light. "We know," Harry started, "that the real locket was in Sirius' house, we saw it when we were cleaning out the dark artifacts."

"But," Hermione spoke up, "doesn't that mean that its gone, thrown out with the rest?"

"Not necessarily," Faykan countered. "Kreacher liberated many of the Black artifacts from Sirius' attempts over that summer, and it's very likely that he now has the locket…"

Harry looked thoughtful for a second, "I have a strong feeling that Kreacher will be very important to us, before the end…"

Hermione looked at the boy for a moment. It was obvious that Kreacher would be important right shortly, as he was their next step toward finding the locket, but that didn't seem to be what Harry had meant.

"So, Grimmauld Place will be our first stop…" Ron surmised, to which Harry and Faykan both nodded. "Between that and Orthanc, we will have our work cut out for us." Draco said flatly, and Hermione had to agree. There was quite a bit to manage if they were to be leading the fight openly as well as secretly searching for the Horcruxes.

"There may be times that we split up to cover more than one objective, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it." Faykan said with a shrug.

"Any word out of the Ministry?" Hermione asked Faykan, her mind spinning to a new topic.

The boy shrugged again, "Nothing much out of the ordinary. Bode reports that the Death Eaters have tried many times to get informants into the Unspeakables, but thus far they've been rebuffed. It won't be long before more agrressive moves are made, probably toward the Minister's office or other departments that can exercise authority over the Department of Mysteries."

"What I'd like to know," Ron said, sitting up on his bed, "is how we're supposed to destroy these things once we've got them?"

"An excellent question," Hermione agreed, turning to Faykan. She was surprised, as well as Ron and Draco, when it was Harry that answered.

"There's only a small handful of things that will destroy a Horcrux, each rarer than the next. Easiest to use would be fiendfyre, but the spell is very dark, and even more dangerous to attempt to control. After that would be Basilisk venom, which if we had access to Hogwarts would be easy to get, from the Chamber of Secrets, but that option is not available at the moment. There are several complex rituals and spells that affect them, but they are well beyond our ability to successfully complete, especially because of potions that have to be prepared for months beforehand."

Hermione just stared at Harry in surprise. "What?" he said, looking back at her.

"Since when did you learn so much Harry?" Ron said bluntly.

"Oh…well…erm…" he stammered, flushing slightly. "I've made it my business to know everything about what it takes to win this war, including some more… exclusive… information."

Ron smiled as he laid back down on his bed, but Hermione was less satisfied. "I'd like to see some of the books you're reading Harry, just for my own curiosity."

"You'd be hard pressed to read them, Hermione," Faykan interjected quickly. "They're written in the ancient high elven language, Quenya."

Hermione was confused. There were two elvish languages? "Is that like Sindaren, surely it couldn't be much different…"

Faykan just chuckled. "It may be somewhat similar, form wise, but the writing is vastly different, dear Hermione. With the grasp of Sindaren that you have, it would still take many months, if not years, to learn basic Quenya, let alone comprehend it to effectively read."

"But…" Hermione said, glancing at Harry. She was more than certain that the boy hadn't known about this second elven language for much longer than she had. "Then how…"

"That's neither here nor there," Faykan said, gently cutting her off. "Do we have everything gathered to leave if Death Eaters come calling?"

Hermione frowned as the conversation continued past without further reference to Harry's spontaneous knowledge. There was something odd going on, and Hermione wasn't sure that she liked the artful dodging that both Harry and Faykan were going through about it.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Draco was more than pleased to be able to spend this time at the Weasleys. Not only were they in the thick of things, with information coming and going through all Mr. Weasley's Ministry connections, but he had ample time to spend with Ginny, that is he would, if Mrs. Weasley wasn't so keen on keeping himself, Ron, Harry, Faykan, and Hermione so occupied that they could do little else but breathe and prepare for the wedding in a few days time.

Everything was nearly ready by the time Fleur's family arrived, and both Ron and Hermione had expected Mrs. Weasley to run out of things to have them do, but somehow the woman still managed to keep them hopping about for this or that project. No one was willing to sour the atmosphere by calling her out however, so they cheerfully submitted to the work by day, and continued planning by night.

They awoke early on the morning of Harry's seventeenth birthday, and together Draco, Ron and Faykan proceeded to startle the black haired boy awake with flashes and bangs from their wands, together with loud and intentionally bad singing of 'Happy Birthday!'

When they finally dragged themselves downstairs, Harry's eyes widened at the pile of presents waiting on the table. Draco plopped down next to Harry at the table, as Mrs. Weasley started serving them, talking to Harry specifically and urging him to begin opening his presents.

Draco tried not to think of the birthdays he had missed with his own family due to the war, especially his own seventeenth birthday, but the first present Harry opened was a traditional pocket watch, engraved with stars circling the face. Mrs. Weasley was mentioning that the watch had previous belonged to her brother, and while Harry got up to hug her, Ginny appeared, sitting on Draco's other side and stealthily taking his hand under the table.

They hadn't had much time to speak of the upcoming events, but Ginny knew. She was such a bright girl Draco couldn't believe half the things she had already figured out without any of them telling her. She knew they were all planning on leaving immediately after the wedding, and that she was unlikely to see Draco, or any of the others, for quite a while, until Voldemort was defeated or they were all dead. Draco could tell it terrified her to possibly not see him again, but she was brave about it, and never showed her fear.

The majority of Harry's remaining presents were more of a mundane variety, a magical shaver from Bill and Fleur, chocolates from Fleur's parents, a pocket Sneakoscope from Hermione. Ron and Draco had worked together to secretly put together a collection of wizarding pictures of them at school. The majority of the pictures had been supplied most cheerfully by Colin and Dennis Creevey.

Faykan had not made or purchased a gift, but instead whispered something to Harry that made the boy's eyes flash with wonder and excitement, and refused to say more to any others of their group except 'you will see when the time is right.'

Draco had a suspicion that it was some destination that Faykan was planning on taking Harry to, possible with the rest of them after they departed the Weasleys in the next few days.

That evening found them all, plus Remus Lupin, Hagrid and Tonks, out on the lawn for Harry's birthday dinner, the kitchen having been proved too small for their number on a normal day. Several tables had been laid out end to end near the garden, and Fred and George, who each had been sporting several nasty wounds from the battle over Privet Drive, were bewitching purple lanterns to hang in midair over them all, shining the golden number seventeen over the guests.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" Mrs. Weasley sang as she came through the gate, levitating a giant, round Snitch in front of her. Draco laughed when the massive cake settled down in front of Harry.

"That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said graciously.

Around seven o'clock the guests arrived. Lupin and Tonks, each looking somewhat odd in their polar expressions; Tonks radiant while Lupin looked somewhat unhappy, smiled warmly as they greeted everyone, and Hagrid, the massive man booming his congratulations as he lifted Harry bodily from the ground, looking as though he might squeeze the boy to death with how hard he was hugging him.

As they talked and wait, Draco glanced occasionally toward Ginny, who was near Mrs. Weasley. They both looked somewhat worried. It was rather unusual for them both to be secretive about something, but soon they returned to the group, and Mrs. Weasley kept casting glances back at the gate. "I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to them after a moment or two. "He must have been held up at… oh!"

A streak of light came toward them, flying across the yard and onto the table, where it formed into a bright silver weasel standing on its hind legs. "Minister of Magic coming with me," it said in Mr. Weasley's voice.

The Patronus dissolved into thin air after delivering its message, leaving several of them astonished at the message.

"We shouldn't be here," Lupin said at once, "Harry… I'm sorry, but I'll explain another time…" and he seized his wife's wrist and pulled her away gently. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

"The Minister, but why? I don't understand…" she said absently. But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour. Beside him, Draco noticed both Harry and Faykan stiffen instantly.

The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and lantern-lit table where everybody sat. As Scrimgeour approached, Draco nodded in approval as the man's face showed some genuine apology. "So sorry to intrude," he said as he limped to a halt before the table, "especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."

Momentarily his eyes flickered Snitch cake, "Many happy returned," he said blandly.

"Thanks," Harry replied in equal neutrality.

"I require a private word with you," the Minister continued, glancing over the rest of the crowd as he spoke to Harry. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Draco Black, and Mr. Will Stanton."

"Us?" Ron said surprised. "Why us?"

"I will gladly tell you when we are somewhere more private," Scrimgeour replied. "Is there such a place?" he added, turning to Mr. Weasley.

Draco noticed that his best friend's father looked very nervous, "Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley said. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You mat lead the way," Scrimgeour said, indicating Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

As the five of them were led back to the house in silence, Draco caught the Weasley parents exchanging a worried glance. As they entered, Harry lit the oil lamps, illuminating the cozy room. Scrimgeour sat himself in Mr. Weasley's armchair, while Draco, Ron and Hermione squeezed side by side onto the sofa. Harry and Faykan remained standing, their eyes seeming to glow slightly in the dim light.

"I have some questions for the five of you, and I think it would be best if we did it individually. If you four would…" Scrimgeour began, but Harry but him off.

"Unacceptable, Minister. What you ask or say to one you can ask or say to us all, or not at all."

"Very well then," Scrimgeour said, shrugging slightly after a moment's pause. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

Draco exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. Harry and Faykan however did not react.

"A surprise, apparently," Scrimgeour surmised, reading their faces, "You were not aware then, that Dumbledore left you anything?"

"A…all of us?" Ron asked, "I would've thought…"

Faykan interrupted this time, "Dumbledore died over a month ago. You're only now getting around to enacting his will?"

Scrimgeour lowered his voice conspiratorially, "If it weren't for my interference, you lot wouldn't have seen these items at all."

Instantly they all quieted and paid close attention as the Minister pulled a scroll of parchment and a small drawstring pouch out of his cloak. "The noose around the Ministry it tightening," he said slowly, "I know that our mutual enemies are closing in on me. If Dumbledore had anything that could help you, I would be damned if I didn't do what I could to get them into your hands."

Opening the scroll, he read, "'The last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore' … yes, here we are… 'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'"

From the bag, Scrimgeour removed a rectangular silver object, and handed it quickly over to Ron. "That is a valuable object, and quite likely unique. Certainly it is Dumbledore's own design."

"But, why give it to me?" Ron asked, puzzled. Scrimgeour watched him for a moment, "It may prove most useful. I had tested it only once, as part of my taking the items to deliver to you all, and it can remove and replace lights from any source, magical or muggle, without leaving any trace. Use it well I think would be the appropriate thing to say."

"Thank you," Ron mumbled, looking at the Deluminator in his hands.

Scrimgeour returned to the parchment, "'To Miss Hermione Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"

From the bag, Scrimgeour pulled a small tattered book and handed it to Hermione. "Aside from being to perfectly normal copy, there may be some secret message or code hidden within that an outsider wouldn't see. At least I hope that this is the case."

Hermione went to open the book, but Scrimgeour stopped her, "Not yet, check it when I am gone. If our mutual enemies' servants capture me before the end, I don't want to have anything worth telling them."

Without pausing, Scrimgeour returned to the scroll, "'To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"

The tiny golden ball fluttered its silver wings feebly as Scrimgeour removed it. Harry reached forward and took the ball from him, and Scrimgeour looked hesitant for a second before relinquishing it. "Snitches have flesh memory, and are small enough to hide tiny object inside, so there may be something in there…"

When nothing happened, his face fell, "Perhaps not…"

Draco frowned, recalling the day that Harry caught the Snitch in their first year. Didn't he nearly swallow it? Then the realization struck; Harry was purposefully allowing Scrimgeour to be disappointed to protect the man, in the case of Dumbledore actually secreting anything within the Snitch.

Turning back to his scroll, Scrimgeour continued, "'To Draco Abraxas Black, I leave a goblin-made scabbard, specially commissioned for his use, in the hope that he remembers where true nobility is derived.'"

From the bag came a shimmering leather scabbard, embossed with gold and silver. Draco's eyes widened as the Minister presented the fine object to him. The seal of the White Tree glittered in the oil light, and he could sense the protective goblin magic woven within.

"I…" Draco started, but he choked up on his own words. Professor Dumbledore always seemed to be more concerned with either Faykan or Harry, but never him. To see this gift, an open accepting and backing of his heirship to the line of kings meant a great deal to the blond wizard.

Scrimgeour said nothing, rather simply studying Draco's reaction, before turning back to the parchment one final time. "'To Will Stanton, there is nothing of material possession I can leave of value, merely these words of warning. Sometimes we must let go of those things we fear the most to lose.'"

Faykan frowned, and Scrimgeour looked at him, searching for meaning in the Istari's face. "I take it that those words have some meaning to you?" he pressed after several moments of silence.

"It's like you said Minister," Faykan replied, "the less you know, the safer we are. But for your own comfort I will say that you have rendered us all a great service."

Scrimgeour nodded once, and very slowly stood. Draco watched as the man seemed to hesitate before stowing away the will and bag. As he took up his walking stick, Harry spoke, "You're still determined to pursue the course you've set yourself upon Minister?"

Scrimgeour paused, looking highly tempted. After a long time, he turned toward the door, "As much as I may now regret it, Mr. Potter, I am." Walking to the door, the Minister of Magic paused again. "Whatever your plans are to destroy the heir of Slytherin, those loyal to the Ministry and the rights of free people everywhere are with you. I am sorry that I may not live to see it fulfilled, but… I do wish you all the luck you need."

As the man departed, Draco felt a small ripple of respect for the Scrimgeour blossom. The man was nowhere near the corrupt Fudge, but a formidable man in his own right, who had inherited a terrible situation, and yet managed to do what he could with it. And that was something worth remembering.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry was quiet for the remainder of his birthday, pondering the actions of Scrimgeour toward them in bringing Dumbledore's will. While he couldn't completely agree with how Scrimgeour had performed as Minister, he had no place in his heart to dislike the man personally.

It had taken mere moments for him to understand the riddle of the Snitch, albeit the engraved riddle written upon it, 'I open at the close,' was more mysterious. Faykan proved to be little help in deciphering whatever Dumbledore was referring to, and they eventually agreed to leave the mystery of the snitch to a later time.

As the time of the wedding approached, Harry had disguised himself by magic as a fictional Weasley relative by transfiguring parts of himself to have random prominent features from their family. Thus masquerading as 'Cousin Barney' the entire group felt confident that Harry would be more than able to pass unnoticed by any of the guests.

While Draco, Hermione and Ron were assisting Fred George and Ginny with seating arrangements and catering to the arriving guests, Harry and Faykan were casually walking the parameter, subtly casting protective wards around the entity of the wedding pavilion. Sadly, they were greatly restricted on what spells they could cast, as not only were the more powerful of ward demanding of special materials or great length of casting, but the Ministry, or the parts already full succumbed to Voldemort, were cracking down on 'illegal' magic, and would be alerted.

This had the added effect of allowing the two powerful wizards time to speak undisturbed by Mrs. Weasley or anyone else. "What I don't understand," Harry initially asked, as they started their walk, and Faykan muttered subtle spells in a mix of Latin and Sindaren, "is how could I be expected to be an Istari… I mean, I don't know the first thing to do…"

Faykan only chuckled. "Oh Harry," he said, smiling, "do you honestly think that the Valar make mistakes like that? There will be time and to spare for you to learn what you need to fight this evil, and whatever else may come to threaten Arda."

"But when?" Harry complained, hanging his head in exasperation, "when are we supposed to fit lessons like that in the middle of a war?"

"Soon Harry, I promise, it will be one of the highest priorities right after seeking the Horcruxes…" Faykan assured him. Harry was about to press further, when movement from the tent caught his eye. Lupin and Tonks had arrived, and were waving as they approached the pair of them.

"Wotcher," Tonks said happily, shaking her now blond hair out of her face. "Arthur told us you were the one with the curly hair." She added, toying with one of Harry's transfigured locks and giggling to herself.

"Sorry about last night," Lupin added in a whisper, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "The Ministry's being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors."

"It's fine, I understand," Harry said, "But you'd didn't have to worry. Scrimgeour was there to help in what way he could, not truly representing the Ministry."

"Ah," Lupin said, raising his eyebrows, "well, better safe than sorry I guess…"

As the pair turned to leave, Harry saw Lupin's face fall immediately into lines of misery. He wasn't sure why the man was so down, but Lupin was a grown man, and didn't need Harry worrying about him and his personal issues. Harry knew that even in his own mind it sounded callous, but he really had far more impactful things to be concerned about.

None of the other guests recognized him, and as Faykan was disguised as the ambiguous Will Stanton, no one paid them any mind throughout the duration of the wedding. It was nice; short, simply and directly to the point. Harry couldn't help but feel happy for the Weasley and Delacour families. Sitting toward the rear of the company as Fleur proceeded up the aisle, Harry felt that he understood what they were fighting for all the more.

Not even being seated near the coarse and rather rude Aunt Muriel was able to disturb his thoughts, as Harry admired the simple beauty of life around him. Was it worth all the toil and heartache that went with fighting Voldemort? Absolutely.

Once the wedding ceremony was concluded, Bill and Fleur were showered in silver stars, as high above them all the golden balloons burst to reveal birds of paradise and golden bells, adding their sounds to the applause of the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called the tufty-haired wizard that conducted the ceremony. "If you would all please stand!"

They did so, and with a small wave of the man's wand, the rows of seats removed themselves, as the walls of the wedding tent vanished, leaving them standing under a canopy supported by golden poles, with a splendid view of the sunlit orchards and the surrounding countryside.

The reception was, different. Harry, who along with Faykan, and Draco had been somewhat removed from wizarding news for the earliest part of the summer, were shocked to hear about Rite Skeeter's newest piece of filth, a book she had written about the life of Professor Dumbledore, in which dragged all of the man's deeper family secrets out into the air for all to see and ridicule.

Knowing what he did about the man, his mistakes and his constant desire to do what was right, Harry was outraged. It seemed like his O.W.L. year all over again, with the news doing everything in its power to tarnish any memory of the great wizard, and somehow he had a sinking suspicion that Voldemort lurked somewhere in the back of it all, but whether simply laughing or actively conducting, he didn't know.

The saddest part was that, while he was alive, the wizarding world seemed to unanimously look up to and respect Dumbledore, with some exceptions of those who worked for Voldemort or Fudge. But now it seemed, that with him gone and out of their collective lives, the citizens of wizarding Britain were just as ready to tear through his reputation and seize on any tidbit of gossip about the illustrious wizard's long life.

If not for his newfound understanding and responsibilities regarding the wizarding world, Harry would be hard pressed to find true reasons of why he should support such a weak willed and downright slothful people. Valar only knew why Faykan kept working to try and rescue them from plight after plight, and that explained quite a bit to Harry in those few moments a great deal of what his best friend had gone through.

So, rather than focusing too much of his energy on the impossible problem of the world and its cruelty, Harry focused on the here and now, keeping watch on the outskirts of the wedding party, making absolutely certain that no threats were approaching.

And it was a good thing that he was, along with Faykan and the others. Sometime during the celebration, when a good few of the guests were intoxicated and therefore well out of commission when it came to dueling, a Horned Owl Patronus appeared in the midst of them all. "The Ministry has fallen." It declared in a voice that Harry found familiar, but couldn't place. He wasn't even sure about the identity of the person based on the animal form of the spell. "Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming!"

The voice clicked in Harry's mind as the creature vanished and the cracks of apparition sounded all around them. Percy Weasley had come to his family's rescue, subtly sending them warning moments before the attack happened.

Leaping into activity, Harry draw from his dress robes the jeweled wand, twisting out of the way of a curse and stunning the masked attacker. All around them, guests were sprinting in all directions; many simply Disapparating on the spot, the rest fleeing toward the orchards and house as the carefully placed wards and enchantments were stripped away one by one.

Masked attackers were appearing all around the property, charging in and causing as much havoc as possible. Thankfully for the guests, and unluckily for the Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters, there were many members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army present, and wands and in some cases other weapons had been drawn by nearly as many wedding guests as those who fled.

Fighting broke out all around the Burrow, the flashes and bangs rising to a near deafening level. Voldemort's supporters were clearly unsuspecting that there'd be so much resistance, as they hadn't bothered to bring any magical creatures as backup.

In the center of the chaos, Faykan stood, blinding light swirling from his staff as all pretext of disguise faded from him. Spells flew from the Istari, catching several attackers at once, meanwhile Faykan kept up a steady stream of encouragement to the defenders. Harry could sense the heavy high elven magic of Narya bolstering their moral at facing the shock troops of Voldemort.

The battle was quick, and with so many advantages the defenders were victorious, despite the surprise nature of the attack. Very few wizards had been killed, the defenders relying strongly on stunners and other impediment spells to hinder and drive away the Death Eaters. The Weasley family was perfectly unharmed, and Harry found Hermione and Draco among them, tending to those of the gusts who had fought and sustained injuries.

One of the fallen was also being tended to; Elphias Doge, who had been a close friend to Albus Dumbledore in their youth. Molly recounted that the very elderly man had to have been inspired by his old friend heroic death, and had battled with them to defend the Delacour family as they escaped with their youngest daughter, Gabrielle. As the French family had disapperated, Doge had been hit with a powerful bone breaking hex as he leaped over a table to shield Fluer's mother from the attacking Death Eater. The old man's frail body had been too far damaged for his magic to preserve, but mercifully he hadn't suffered long before passing away.

The astounding part of the tale that Molly had conveyed was that Doge was well known as a coward for the longest of recounted time. Harry realized the amount of power that Faykan, and he by extension, wielded with just the sheer force of will they had to inspire others to stand and fight for a cause. It was a humbling, and terrifying power. Harry could easily understand how such evil could be accomplished by one of them, such as the acts of Saruman, or Alatar during the dark years after the War of the Ring.

The small silver lining of the attack was that, after a short deliberation with her husband, Mrs. Weasley had finally agreed completely that it was not safe for Harry and the others to go back to school. "If the Death Eaters would attack a wedding to try and find you, you're not safe anywhere," she had said.

With her express permission, they were loaded up with everything they could carry, including what felt like several months-worth of the Weasley's matriarch's home cooking, and sent on their way after they insisted that they knew where they needed to go.

As the five of them departed, Harry turned back to look at what he had, for a few short years, considered his family. The whole of the Weasley family, including Fleur and Bill, were all standing before the Burrow, waving in farewell as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Faykan and Draco strode to the edge of the hastily replaced anti-apparition wards.

Turning back just outside the boundary, the five of them raised their wands as salute, an ancient sign of friendship and farewell. Clasping hands, Harry, Hermione and Faykan turned on the spot, directing their group to squeeze through space to London, arriving in the park beside Grimmauld Place.

Number twelve was visible to them, for they had all been told, either directly or indirectly via a piece of hand written parchment, of its existence by Dumbledore over the past two years. Slowly, making sure that no wizards were around to see, the five of them entered the darkened building and hurried over the threshold.

Closing their door behind them swiftly, they blinked at the oil lamps flared into life down the main corridor. The place looked just as Harry remembered from two years previous, when he had last set foot inside. The last remnants of the Darker aspect of the family still decorated the halls, portraits of the old family snoring quietly in their frames amid the severed elf heads and troll leg umbrella stand.

The place was undisturbed, and a thick layer of a nearly a year's worth of dust lay about the surfaces, which had Harry wondering what exactly Kreacher had been up to all this time. The Order had apparently left in a great hurry when Albus had died, possibly figuring that the location was no longer safe to use as Headquarters.

"More than likely," Hermione agreed when Harry voiced his speculation, "but I still wonder what they may have left behind..."

As they crossed the corridor, Faykan and Harry's staffs lighting the way, several of the portraits grumbled about disturbed sleep, but the house otherwise sat quietly. The murmurs from Sirius' mother's portrait were disconcerting, but they managed to not alert the insane woman to their presence.

Arriving in the kitchen, they relaxed, and Faykan set to work cleaning a small place to set aside as their staging ground to search for the real locket Horcrux. A small twinge of angry pain flittered across Harry's scar, but vanished the moment he felt it. Voldemort was clearly employing Occlumency to seal that connection, but their escape had greatly taxed the Dark Lord's patience. Fawkes flame into being, dropping a message from Orthanc that came from Unspeakable Bode, detailing that the Department of Mysteries had sealed itself off from blatant invasion from the other Departments on the new Minister's orders.

"Things are moving quickly now," Faykan said, "We need to quickly find the Horcrux and move on, as our time here is short. Harry, summon Kreacher…"

Nodding, Harry raised his voice, calling the wretched elf to them, and he appeared with a sickening cracking sound. The tiny being was still wearing the filthy rags from when they had first met, and the contemptuous look he gave Harry upon seeing him. "Master…" he croaked, bowing low and muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with blood-traitors and Mudbloods and Light Lords…"

"Kreacher!" Harry commanded, and the room rattled as his irritation with the elf's dark habits spiked, "You will never use those words or tones again. You will answer our questions truthfully and immediately, understood?"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said, bowing again. Harry could see that he was mouthing the insults that he would normally speak, but now was forbidden to do.

"Two years ago," Harry began, "there was a big golden locket in the upstairs drawing room. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

A moment's silence, in which Kreacher stared directly into Harry's eyes in shock, and then he replied obediently, "Yes."

"Where is it now?" Harry said, excitement building.

"Gone," Kreacher said, closing his eyes to block out their reaction.

"Explain what you mean by gone Kreacher," Faykan said from the table, and the elf shivered. Harry was about to order him to respond when the elf croaked, "Mundungus Fletcher stole it. Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistriss's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and…and…"

Gulping for air, Kreacher looked around wildly and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream. "…and the locket, Master Regulus' locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"

Harry reacted instinctively: Kreacher lunged for the nearest weapon to punish himself, and with a bang Harry had the little elf hoisted into the air by magic. "Kreacher, I order you to stop and stand still!"

The elf froze, and Harry safely lowered him to the ground. "Now," Harry said quickly, "Mundungus Fletcher took the locket," Kreacher nodded in response. Harry's mind whirled, connecting R.A.B., Kreacher, the locket and Regulus Black in quick succession.

"Regulus wanted you to destroy the locket," he mused out loud, shocking the elf, "and you couldn't do it… could you…?"

"N…nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," the elf moaned. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing would work… Kreacher was sure the way to destroy was to get inside, but it would not open…"

Kreacher began sobbing louder and louder, and his story got consumes in the noise of it, but Harry had heard all he needed to know. The poor miserably wretch had done as he was commanded by a master he loved and adored, and when he failed he would punish himself, and then tried again; an endless cycle that had clearly driven him into the state of madness that he was in. Harry knew exactly what had to be done.

"Kreacher," he commanded, and the elf looked up at him, "We need the locket, so that we can destroy it, and fulfill Master Regulus' last wish. Find Mundungus Fletcher, and bring here to Grimmauld Place, then send for us. Can you do that for us?" he asked, softening his voice as he looked pityingly at the house elf.

Wide eyed, probably wondering if this was to be true, Kreacher nodded, and stood to carry out his orders. "Hang on a second Kreacher," Harry said, a thought striking him. Withdrawing the fake locket from his robe pocket, he presented it to the elf. "This belonged to Regulus, and I'm more than sure he'd want you to have it, as a token of gratitude…"

It may have been too much. The little elf, overcome by emotion, took one look at the locket and broke down completely, so overcome with being presented a black family heirloom for himself that it took nearly a half hour to calm him down again.

Finally, he solnmly stowed the locket in the cupboard where he slept, bowed to them all, even giving a funny spasm in Hermione's direction that might have been an attempt at a respectful gesture, and disapperated with a loud crack.