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Chapter 8

Harry traipsed downstairs the next morning, aching with tiredness. He knew that if he left for Godric's Hollow, it would upset Mrs Weasley. But he had to go. This wasn't just about delaying Voldemort. This was about finding all the Horcruxes and killing him, possibly putting all of his friends in danger.

He half-expected the atmosphere in the kitchen, but on the contrary, Mrs Weasley bustled around happily, chatting about the wedding, how much Ron had grown, and the price of powdered unicorn horn these days.

"Why'd you need that stuff, Mum?" Ginny asked over a bowl of porridge.

"Oh, it's Oliver," She replied cheerfully, matching up odd socks with a flick of her wand. "Wanted to make a potion."

Harry froze.

"Pretty advanced, if he wanted unicorn horn." He commented, trying to sound conversational.

Ginny stared at him curiously, but he ignored her.

"What was that, Harry dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, her face hidden behind a large pile of washing.

"Oh, nothing," He mumbled into his bowl.

Ginny poked him with her spoon.

"Ouch!"

"Well look at me then!" She said huffily, abandoning her breakfast. "I know that look." She tilted her head at him. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"No," Harry replied automatically.

Ginny smiled.

"It's another noble thing, isn't it?"

Harry drew his wand and used a Summoning Charm on the sugar, not looking at Ginny.

"Ha! I knew it. Hermione was acting weird last night, too." She pulled a face. "Her and Ron were talking, when you were asleep."

"Talking." Harry repeated. Ginny laughed, and there was a loud crashing sound upstairs.

Hermione apparated by the table.

"Tonks."She said, in answer to their questioning looks. "Fell over something in Percy- I mean, the spare room."

"Where's Ron?"

"Sulking." She laughed, but didn't say anything else. Instead, she sat next to Ginny and handed Harry two envelopes.

"What're they?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Hedwig came back with them, and a dismembered mouse," She said matter of factly. "You'll find it on your bed."

Harry picked up the first envelope, turning it over in his hands, looking confused. There was no one left to write to him anymore. Sirius, he thought painfully, had been his only correspondent. And perhaps Hagrid.

He tore the envelope open, catching a grubby piece of paper as it fell. It read:

Pain, Har-

The rest of what was presumably a letter had been torn off. The writing was familiar. Harry dug into his pocket, pulling out a similar piece of paper that he had discovered in Privet Drive.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, peering at the two scraps of paper that Harry was now comparing on the table.

"These pieces of paper...I found one in Privet Drive, and one here. They're both in the same handwriting, look." He handed them to Hermione. "I think they're the same letter. Someone's trying to contact me...they're following me."

The words were meaningful if not frightening, but to Harry sounded ridiculous, especially when spoken in the Weasley's cheerful kitchen.

"Who, though?" Ginny asked, watching a dark look flit between Harry and Hermione.

As a distraction more than out of curiosity, Harry opened the second envelope:

Dear Mr Potter,

I am writing to inform you of an important gathering at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which will take place on Friday of this week, at five o'clock precisely. It regards the possessions of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and the opening of his last will and testament. Mr Dumbledore wrote a guest list for this gathering, on which he regarded you most highly. I hope that the date is convenient for you, and that you will be able to attend.

I apologize for your loss.

Yours,

Romulus Byrne.

Head of the Department of the Protection of Highly Magical Last Wishes,

Ministry of Magic.

Harry read it out to Hermione and Ginny, who looked confused.

"The Department of the Protection of Highly Magical Last Wishes?" Ginny repeated incredulously.

"I've not heard of that one before, Harry." Hermione said worriedly. "What if it's a trap?"

"Sounds more like a practical joke to me,"Ginny commented. "A very horrible one."She added.

Harry spooned porridge into his mouth, even though he was suddenly not hungry.

"Why would someone joke about that though?" Hermione asked no one in particular.

"They wouldn't joke about something like that." Harry said in a hollow tone."

"I know,"Ginny said. "We can ask Dad, he'll know who this Romulous is."

"Yeah..." Harry mumbled, re-reading the strange letter. 'Mr Dumbledore wrote a guest list for this gathering, on which he regarded you most highly...' Did that mean that Dumbledore had left him something in his will? The material possibilities didn't bother him, it was the fact that Dumbledore had regarded him highly enough to consider what would happen to him after his death.

"Harry?" Ginny said tentatively. "Are you ok?"

"Fine."

In truth, Harry felt like screaming. The fate of the wizarding world was in his hands, he wasn't allowed to be with Ginny in case they got so close that Voldemort decided to use her as a weapon and Ron and Hermione didn't trust him enough to tell him their feelings. To cap it all, he was going to upset Mrs Weasley because he couldn't come to the wedding, because by then he'd be in Godric's Hollow, possibly to come across the graves of his parents.

"Mornin'" Ron entered the kitchen looking groggy.

"Hi," Hermione began, but Ginny interrupted her.

"Harry's been invited to the opening of Dumbledore's will. And someone evil's following him and giving him crazy bits of the same torn letter, to try and contact him."

Ron froze at the doorway, suddenly looking more wide-awake than before.

"What?"

"I'm not confirming anything until you put some clothes on, Ron." Hermione said snippily, although she went slightly pink.

Ron turned beetroot red, and backed out of the room.

A few hours later, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in Ron's room, talking. Yet again, Hermione's head was buried in another book, although every now and then she peered around the large volume to give them her opinion.

"Pack a small bag, Ron." Harry reminded him as he pulled a large sack out from under his bed.

"I don't need material possesions,"Hermione informed them. "Just a wand and inner calm."

Harry peered at the spine of her book; 'How to achieve Magical Calm'

"Sounds like divination to me,"He commented.

"Actually," Hermione lowered the book, sounding offended. "It's to do with runes."

Ron stuck his head out from under his bed.

"If you don't need material possessions, why've you still got the book?"

Hermione glared at him.

"I'll need a few things, obviously." She contradicted herself. "Just a few books, and clothes..."

"At least we'll be getting away from Malfoy." Harry said quietly. He waved his wand in a complicated squiggling motion and the things laid out on his campbed flew into his trunk, which closed with a snap.

"Mum was worried," Hermione marked her place and laid her book to one side. "She didn't want me doing anything life-threatening."

"But you're a great witch!" Ron sounded defensive and slightly muffled from under his bed.

Hermione looked pleased with herself.

"Not at the important stuff though, like Defence..."

"Oh come off it!" Ron stuck his dust-covered head out from under his bed once more. "You're great at everything else! Remember in first-year..." He gave a reminiscent pause.

"When I tried to stop you and Harry meeting Malfoy in the trophy room?"

"Yeah..."Ron said distantly. "That was cool, when you did the alohomora..."

Harry stared at the floor dully. Neither of them seemed to have noticed or cared that he wasn't talking anymore. It was another moment when he felt like he was intruding upon something private. He began unpacking his bag noisily.

"Where is Godric's Hollow, Harry?" Hermione asked, as though she had just remembered that he was in the room.

Harry shrugged.

"Well it isn't a village." She said."Hogsmeade is-"

"The only fully magical village in Britain." Harry interrupted, repacking his bag.

"Well, yes," Hermione looked slightly annoyed. "So maybe Godric's Hollow's like a street, or just a few houses coupled together."

"My parents lived in Godric's Hollow." And died there, he thought with a jolt in his stomach.

"Bowman Wright lived there too." Hermione said.

Ron stared at her blankly.

"He created the Golden Snitch?"

Ron still looked confused.

"Quidditch through the Ages, Ron!"

"Ohhh...right."

Harry's parents had died there, so maybe their graves were there too. He hadn't really thought about that before. Was their house still there, or was it just non-existent? Had their house been rebuilt, or was there just a gap between two other houses, like the horror of the night his parents died had never happened? He remembered the cold flash of green light, the laughter, then...silence. He'd lost everyone he'd ever loved so far. Harry was sure that if Dumbledore hadn't have taken that potion he would've been able to fight off the other Death Eaters.

"Ron, Hermione?" Harry said hesitantly. "If there's a potion we have to drink to find one of the horcruxes, you have to let me drink it, ok?"

"No, we need you, Harry." Hermione looked like she was getting over-emotional again. "If anyone should drink it it should be me."

"Not you,we need you too. It should be me," Ron muttered. "Seeing as I'm about as helpful as a chocolate-"

The door burst open. It was Oliver.

"What do you want?" Harry snarled.

"I was just wondering if I could-"

"No." Harry drew his wand. He looked mutinous.

"But-"

"Harry," Hermionemuttered urgently. "Be nice,"

"I wanted to talk to you," Oliver's eyes darted around the room as if he was memorizing it's layout. "Can I come in?"

"Ok."Harry tried to smile as Hermione prodded him in the small of the back with her wand.

"What about?"Hermione asked as he shut the door.

The tall boy stood at the door awkwardly.

"Potions," He said in an irritatingly calm way.

"Potions?"Harry sneered. "From what I've seen you're great at potions...or d'you need your greasy friend?"

"No,but I need a potions book. Your mother," He gestured at Ron. "Said that Hermione was the person to ask if I needed a book." He smiled gratefully in Hermione's direction.

"What sort of potion?" Harry demanded, annoyed that Malfoy wasn't rising to the bait.

"Just a simple-" He began."Well, alright not simple. It's quite an advanced potion, but it's important. I was wondering if I could borrow your copy of Advanced Potion Making."

"I've not got it."Hermione lied badly. "I must've left it at school."

Harry could've sworn he saw Oliver raise an eyebrow as if to say, I know you're lying. His eyes darted around the room once more in an eerie way, then he said;

"Mrs Weasley says that dinner's nearly ready. And if..."He paused. "If you find Advanced Potion Making, tell me." Again his tone of voice was calm and smooth, but Harry got the feeling that it wasn't a request, it was a command.

Harry stood up, leading the taller boy almost forcefully to the door. In the split second that Oliver brushed past him to get out, Harry's scar jolted, and he felt sick. Shakily, he closed the bedroom door, but didn't say anything to Hermione and Ron.

"He asked your Mum if he could have some powdered unicorn horn." Harry remembered suddenly, perching on Ron's bed. "Isn't that for advanced potions?"

"Yes-Ouch! Ron! Get out from under there! If you poke me one more time..." Ron emerged a strange purple colour, and Hermione continued. "It's one of the main components of a Smiling Solution...Not that that's relevent. And you can...Oh wait!" She fell silent and began flicking through a surprisingly small potions book. Harry peered over her shoulder curiously at the potion she was looking at.

"Take a..." He began to read the page out, but Hermione was too quick for him. She closed the book with a snap, and mumbled something about dinner, then Disapparated.

Harry and Ron stared at each other in a confused way.

"Don't think we should ask," Ron grinned, heading for the door.

Harry nodded, and they made their way downstairs in silence.