Note: Sorry about the long wait. Writer's block has been killing my efforts lately.

There is something about losing one's sight that seems to enhance all of the body's remaining senses; sounds become stronger, touch more sensitive. It is as if the brain can not fully process everything at once and therefore chooses sight as the main input for information. Perhaps, it merely trust what it can see.

Fear, on the other hand, tends to have the opposite effect. It dulls everything as adrenaline pumps through the veins, corrupting all other thoughts as it tries to find a means for escape. The brain is focused only on survival.

Harry was not necessarily scared, not for his safety at least. He knew he was in no real danger but being bound and blindfolded was enough to raise anyone's heart rate, especially after being kept captive for so long. Many of his more dreadful experiences came from being rendered completely blind because of the effects it had on the senses. His foot tapped sporadically at his side as he fought back these memories that were now trying to surface.

Taking a deep, settling breath he began to go over what he knew so far, effectively preoccuping his spiraling mind. Bill had insisted he and Snape be blindfolded until they were certain they could be trusted. Understandable, but Harry couldn't deny the surge of annoyance at being treated like a traitor. He had then been led up a flight of stairs and into what he assumed was a room to his right. After retelling his story, he had been left alone for what seemed like hours now and his anxiety was quickly growing into full on panic.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was bound to, his shoulders aching from the awkward position he was forced to sit in. The sound of the wooden chair creaked loudly in the silence that surrounded him nearly drowning out the grown of frustration that escaped his lips. He let his head drop back, staring up at what would have been the ceiling if his eyes had not been covered. How much longer would it take them?

A faint sound came from somewhere far off, the dull thump of hard-sole shoes on wooden floors accompanied by a hollow thunk of something slightly heavier. Harry tilted his head, turning an ear in the direction of noise as if it might help him hear better. It was two sets of footsteps with an odd thud mixed in and they had moved closer before coming to a stop. There was a rattle in front of him as a doorhandle turned followed by the slight change in pressure as a door was pulled open. The footsteps returned and then a grown of mattress springs to his left as a heavy weight settled on bed. So they were in a bedroom Harry noted.

"Can you untie me now," Harry asked, panic seeping into his voice despite his efforts to control his emotions.

A deep sigh prefaced the answer. "Unfortunately, we can't do that," Bill said from the mattress. "The story just doesn't add up."

"Bill, you can't be serious," Harry demanded in bewilderment. He turned to face where the voice had come from, mouth slight parted in disbelief. "Everything I've told you was the truth."

"And I'm supposed to just believe you? Witout any evidence to back these wild claims?"

"What do want me to say," Harry pleaded. "Ask me anything. Something only I would know."

"The problem is," came the gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody. Harry's head swirled blindly in that direction. "You've been gone long enough for information to be extracted. Any Death Eater would be able to answer our question."

Harry gaped, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find some shred of an argument.

"It's obviously not polyjuice potion," he quickly countered. "I've been here well over an hour and with the Weasley's since yesterday morning."

A long pause followed this statement. Harry knew without looking that the two men were exchanges looks as they tried to decide his fate. Several times he opened his mouth, ready to argue his case further, but words seemed to fail him.

"We can't risk it," Moody growled.

"So what," asked Harry, his anger finally getting the best of him. "You just send us away? Might as well kill us yourselves."

"The best we can do is get you out of the country," Bill went on, but there was a hint of regret in his voice. "If you're telling the truth you'll be safe outside of Britain."

"You really think the Dark Lord's power stops at the country's border," Harry spat incredulously.

"He has less influence-"

"That's not going to stop him from hunting us abroad! Besides, you can't-" Harry stopped suddenly, nearly biting his tongue off as he cut off the remainder of his sentence. He had promised Dumbledore that he would not tell anyone besides Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes. Circumstances had changed however, and it was perhaps the only thing that would change their minds. "You can't beat him, not yet at least."

"Spare us the Chosen One tosh," Moody growled.

"I'm not talking about any of that," Harry quickly assured him. "He's found a way to protect himself from death. It's...it's hard to explain but if you untie me I'll do my best."

Another long pause and Harry could almost hear his heart pounding in the still silence this time. This was his only chance to convince them and knowing that was enough for him to push back the fear threatening to drag him under.

Suddenly, he felt the invisible force holding his hands together break. Without a second thought, he quickly reached up and pulled the thick black cloth covering his eyes down until it hung loosely around his neck. He sucked in several deep breaths and then looked around the room, blinking rapidly as the warm sunlight streaming in through the window above the bed infiltrated his pupils. Even after his eyes adjusted to the light,he could barely see a thing without his glasses. He squinted but everything was blurry beyond the tip of his nose.

"Here," Bill said and extended Harry his glasses.

Taking them, Harry gave him curt nod and pushed them onto the bridge of his nose. Details came into sharp focus and he took a minute to study his surroundings. A small bedroom decorated in pale blue with an abundance of seashells. Bill was sitting on a white metal bed and Moody was leaning against the door frame; both were studying Harry with skeptical looks.

"Now explain," Moody said bluntly.

Licking his dry lips, Harry tried to find a place to begin. "He's divided his soul into 6 pieces and hid them into different objects," he said as he rubbed at his sore wrists. "That way if something were to happen to him he would still be able to come back."

Both men frowned at this and exchanged a brief glance.

"How..." Bill began but trailed off, his brow furrowing. Whatever he had thought Harry was going to say, it hadn't been this.

"Dumbledore told me everything," Harry continued. "That night the castle was attacked, we were out looking for one."

"I've heard of some dark magic in my time but nothing like this," Moody said skeptically.

"I have a book in our bag that explains everything."

"So even if we were to kill him right now," Bill asked slowly, apparently finding it hard to comprehend. "It wouldn't do anything until we destroyed those objects?"

Harry nodded. "It's pretty much a failsafe."

"But destroying those objects-"

"Destroys his link to immortality," Harry quickly finished. He was ready to be out of that chair and these slow questions were drawing on his nerves. "Two have already been destroyed leaving four. We have an idea of what they are but-"

"What a load of rubbish," Moody spat as he pushed away from the wall. "There is no evidence to prove any of this."

"There is a book that explains everything," Harry repeated, fixing Mad-Eye with a scowl. "Let's go downstairs and I'll prove it."

Both of Moody's eyes fixed on Harry as if he could look through into Harry's mind as easily as he could look through walls. After a long moment, it swiveled over to Bill who gave him a brief nod.

"Fine," he snapped and pulled open the door. "Lead the way, Bill."

Bill rose from the bed and crossed the room. Harry stood, steadied himself, and then made to follow. Outside there was no hallway, only three door which he assumed were extra bedrooms. They descended the narrow stairs and he found himself in a small sitting room. Before he could see who all was there, a blurry figure ran up and embraced him.

"Oh, Harry," came a familiar voice that took him too long to place. It felt like his brain was trudging through thick mud trying to remember names.

"Luna," he gasped in surprise and held her at arms length. She smiled up at him, tears forming in the corners of her pale eyes and he pulled her back into a tight hug. "Wha...how..."

"There will be time for explanations later," Bill said shortly. He held out a small beaded bag and nodded to a tea table in the middle of the furniture. "Let's see that book."

Luna stepped back, allowing Harry to see the rest of the room. Mrs. Weasley was sat on patched couch next to Fleur while Mr. Weasley stood at a nearby window, eyes fixed on whatever was outside.

"Where's Snape," he asked as he opened the bag and rummaged through. It had been the only one he had put back in when he had tried to run away, so when his fingertips brushed the spine, he pulled it out with ease.

"In a room upstairs," Moody answered. He followed Harry to the tea table, peering over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages. "We want to verify stories before we start trusting anyone."

Harry pursed his lips but remained quiet. Getting them to trust Snape was going to be the difficult part, especially after the effort it had taken for them to trust him.

"Here," he said as he removed the yellowed parchment he and Snape had worked on a while back. He pointed to the subheading labeled Horcruxes and stepped out of the way.

It was quiet while they skimmed the page and Harry looked up to find Mrs. Weasley staring at him from across the room. She gave him a small smile which he returned, his anxiety wavering a little. She wouldn't let them turn him away, not without a fight.

"And what's that," Moody asked, his fake eyes falling on the parchment in Harry's hand.

"It's notes Snape and I worked on," said Harry, handing it over to Bill.

Mad-Eye picked up the book and examined the cover and spine as if it could easily be a fake. He then took the parchment from Bill, both eyes speeding down the page.

"They couldn't fake this, Moody," Bill said, and Harry felt relief washing over his stiff body. "It's too elaborate."

Moody gave a low humph of begrudging agreement and dropped the book back to the table. Bill collapsed to the sofa beside his wife and rubbed his eyes wearily. It was only then that Harry noticed the long scars on his face; they held a eerie resemblance to those that Lupin had had. He felt a lump form in his throat and quickly looked away as familiar memories pulled at his mind.

"Vut about Snape," asked Fleur. She placed her hand on Bill's leg and he placed an arm around her in return.

"I don't know," Bill huffed.

"He helped Harry escape," Mrs. Weasley chimed in. She shot a glance to the two beside her and then looked at Harry. "Why would he do that if he wasn't on our side?"

"To get here," Bill offered with a wave of his hand. "We've been fairly good at giving them the slip. And let's be honest, Harry was the only person that could have convinced mum and dad to come here."

Harry had to admit, that was the most logical reason. He was the one person that could help find what remained of the Order. Had he led them into a trap? However, his mind kept coming back to one important piece of information.

"He wouldn't risk it," he said, claiming a seat next to Luna on an adjacent sofa. "Not with the information I have."

"Not even to finish off the last of those still fighting against him," Mad-Eye asked.

"No. This is something he wouldn't risk me spreading, especially to the Order."

Everyone other than Moody and Bill exchanged confused glances but Moody quickly waved away their unasked questions.

"So, that leaves the question what do we do with you two," he said and then looked around at the other members of the Order, waiting for their response. However, it seemed fairly evident that no one wanted to be the first to answer. Their eyes flicked from one another then down to the floor as they tried their best to ignore the growing silence. Harry felt Luna's hand rest on his back but he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"I say they stay," Mrs. Weasley finally answered. "Harry's obviously given you some sort of proof. And if Snape has helped him this far I don't see why he shouldn't be trusted."

Harry met her eye and gave her a gracious smile, his spirits rising with the validation. He knew she would be the one to speak on his behalf but he never would have imagined how much relief it would bring him.

"Any opposed," Bill asked formally. When no complaints came, he nodded to Moody who made a clunking exit to the stairs to relieve Snape of his bedroom prison. He then turned back to Harry and gave him an apologetic grin. "So, Harry, how can we help?"