Chapter 65: Treasures of the Heart

Why can't things go as well as we plan them? Albus had been wondering about that for years, and still, he isn't able to come up with any real answers. But they escaped… that was all that was important… until he saw what had happened and where it went wrong…

Yaxley had grabbed hold of Hermione just a fraction of a second before they had disapparated, and they brought him along with him to the doorway of Grimmauld Place. Hermione had been able to kick him off, but left with the boys before Yaxley could get his bearing straight. Albus remembered the relief he felt when he saw them get away with the locket, but now they were on their own with nowhere else to go. Now that Yaxley knew how to get inside Grimmauld Place, they couldn't go back there.

That had been several weeks ago and ever since then they've been living out of a tent in the wilderness. Things, however, seemed to have gotten worse for them than ever before. During those weeks, Ron seem to be cracking under the strain. His arm had been badly splinched from the Ministry escape, and they were forced to treat him as best as they could, and as he was recovering, Hermione tearfully told them about Yaxley and how she couldn't shake him off until they got back to Grimmauld Place and that was why they couldn't go back. Though Yaxley didn't get to far in however since Alastor's protections were still active, and Yaxley was recovering back at St. Mungo's.

And Albus knew that they were also worried about Kreacher, but they needn't worry about him. That little elf may be getting on in years, but he was far from weak. As soon as Yaxley came bursting into the house, laughing at how stupid 'those kids' as he called them were, Kreacher had heard him and left, heading back to Hogwarts.

It was good to see Kreacher and Dobby getting along with each other much more than before—he was aware of how much they fought with each other the year before because of difference of opinion when it came to Harry. But he didn't really think about that when he watched the three of them struggling to get by. This just wasn't fair… he hated to think that a group of teenagers were forced to face such horrors so young. They should be at school with their other friends inside a safe castle… not hunting down the pieces to a madman's soul and avoid getting killed by Death Eaters.

It wasn't just Kreacher they were worried about however. They were also worried about the Cattermoles, wondering if they had been able to escape. Mary didn't know what was going on, but her desire to see her children again overwhelmed her, and she returned home to where they were waiting for her. She quickly told them that they were leaving and that they had to hurry, she would explain to them once they were gone.

They waited long enough for Reg to return before they fled to the countryside where they were going to stay with her mother, and none of them had the slightest idea to how it all happened. He chuckled at that, and relaxed in the knowledge that all the Muggle-borns managed to escape… though it had all been a very close call.

As for that very next morning after the escape, he watched as Harry took Alastor's eye and buried it out in the forest. Albus couldn't help but wonder if there was any reason why Harry picked the oldest, most gnarled, resilient-looking tree he could find to bury it. But he felt pride inside him at the gesture… it was a fitting place. And he was sure that Alastor would've understood the reason behind it and have been grateful for that act.

After that however, they had seemed to discover that Voldemort was after another object… and Albus had been watching over Tom as well… knowing full well what it was that he was searching for. He gritted his teeth as he thought back to the night he died and knew that his plan didn't work out just as he had hoped it would. He knew who the real Master of the Elder Wand was… and he didn't even realize it did he?

Of course, the trio still had no idea about the wand, and were trying to come up with other ideas as to what was going on. They thought that he was looking for another object to turn into a Horcrux, but Albus knew that Tom knew that he had pushed his own soul to the very limit—even he wouldn't try that again. Though when he looked at Harry, he knew that he was probably the only person who knew the full truth of the situation in front of him.

He knew that Tom was still trying hard to find a way around the problem of the twin cores, and he believed that the Elder Wand would make him invincible. So he was trying to retrace the last known steps that the wand took… and if he kept this up, Albus was fairly sure that he would learn where it was sooner or later.

But what he didn't like was how the trio were keeping the Horcrux so close without any way of destroying it. His uneasiness was proven when one night when Harry was forced to run from Dementors, unable to summon his Patronus no matter how hard he tried.

"But you can make a brilliant Patronus!" protested Ron, when Harry arrived back at the tent empty handed, out of breath, and mouthing the word Dementors, too exhausted to continue.

"I couldn't… make one," he panted, struggling for air, "Wouldn't… come…"

Now this showed just how seriously the Horcrux was effecting him. Harry had already proven he was capable of casting the charm because he had the locket. That must have been terrifying for him. He had seen how it had taken all Harry's willpower to move and leave. But all that Ron was concerned with was the fact that they didn't have any food.

"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione before she looked back to Harry and asked, "Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!"

"I don't know," was all Harry could say as Ron continued to grumble behind them—and it looked like both young men were going to start going at each other until Hermione figured out what the problem was and took the Horcrux back from him. As soon as he took it off, color flushed back into his face, and he seemed to breathe easier. They shouldn't be wearing that thing if it effects them so much… and he personally would've been happy if they didn't even touch it…

"Better?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, loads better!" Harry confessed, looking around like he had just been relieved of a heavy burden. That was when Hermione grew pale and crouched down in front of him and whispered, as if afraid that if she spoke to loudly then she could end up making it true, "Harry… you don't think you've been possessed, do you?"

Oh, Albus very much doubted that. They hadn't had the Horcrux long enough for that… and he doubted that any of them would become attached to it in any way.

"What? No!" he said defensively, "I remember everything we've done while I've been wearing it. I wouldn't know what I'd done if I'd been possessed, would I? Ginny told me there were times when she couldn't remember anything."

True, but possession is such a rare thing that it's impossible to know for sure what it was like. Yet, he agreed with what Harry said here in the unlikely event that he had been possessed.

"Hmm," said Hermione, looking down at the heavy locket. "Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent."

"We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around," Harry stated firmly. "If we lose it, if it gets stolen—"

That's a good point. But he still believed that it was a bad idea for any of them to keep it on them for too long. In the end, they decided that they were going to take turns wearing it so that none of them would have to be stuck with it for long. Though that was the only thing that they could come up with, Albus couldn't shake the terrible feeling about it… this was going to increase negative energy around them, and that was the last thing they needed.

From that moment onwards, the trio were forced to keep moving from place to place, never staying anywhere longer than a couple days. And oftentimes they were forced to forage for food—Harry bore up with it very well and he had a bad feeling that this was because of how he had been raised. But still, he never complained once.

Hermione was another one who bore up with the fact that they had no food reasonably well. Perhaps her temper was a little shorter than it would've been otherwise… but it was Ron who was the problem. Because he was so used to eating his fill at every meal thanks to his mother or at Hogwarts… he became very cranky and irritable… and Albus noticed that out of the three of them, the locket seemed to have more of a bad effect on him than the other two… making him almost cruel at time. If only Severus could get the sword to them, then they would have a way of finishing that thing off once and for all.

Harry and Hermione were quickly losing patience with Ron… who snapped at them over everything that they said. The one good thing that it was doing was that he was able to convince them to stop using Tom's name. He never once saw any fear in it, but he had quickly learned that the Death Eaters have the name tabooed so that they could easily be tracked if the name was ever said.

This really isn't going well. He would listen to their conversations as they tried to think of other places that the Horcruxes would be in, and soon they got to a point that they were just repeating themselves over and over until even Albus could guess just what they were going to say next. When they realized this, their tempers would raise, and they wouldn't talk to each other for several hours.

"I can't see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes," Harry would begin, "Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would've recognized a Horcrux straightaway."

Well, that part he wasn't so sure of, but he did agree that the odds of Tom hiding something there was zero. Though he remembered going to that shop himself several times just to make sure. After all, Tom had been remarkably reckless when he handed out the diary, and it never hurt just to make sure… and it was thanks to that did he find out about poor Hepzibah Smith.

Harry threw Ron a nasty look when he saw him yawning, and Albus wouldn't have been surprised if Harry finally snapped and threw something at him. But he went on, determined not to look at him, "I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts."

Hermione sighed. "But Dumbledore would have found it, Harry!"

Oh, he highly doubted that. Even though he had been at Hogwarts for most of his life, he had never been able to discover all of Hogwart's secrets. He personally thought that there was a very good chance that there might be one there… though where, and how Tom could've placed a Horcrux there after he left school was a mystery…

But Harry was right, if there was one place that he was sure to hide one if given the choice, it would be Hogwarts.

"Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwart's secrets. I'm telling you, if there was one place Vol—" Harry began, before Ron let out a yell and Harry shouted out, "YOU-KNOW-WHO, then! If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!"

"Oh, come on," scoffed Ron. "His school?"

Albus knew where Harry was coming from. He felt safe at Hogwarts himself… he returned there because he wanted to make sure that he would never again be tempted with the idea of power. Being there… in a place that he would always be welcomed meant more to him than anything. Ron and Hermione couldn't understand this because they both came from loving homes, but for some… its home. You don't realize where your home is until you miss it.

"Yeah, his school!" Harry said loudly, "It was his first real home, the place that meant he was special: it meant everything to him, and even after he left—"

"This is You-Know-Who we're talking about, right? Not you?" inquired Ron.

Now that was uncalled for. Harry seemed to exercising every bit of self control he had to keep himself from choking Ron. This wasn't good… they needed to keep their tempers in check. But he glanced at the Horcrux around Ron's neck and knew that was easier said than done. It's pushing the negative thoughts to the front, and the worst part was how close they were and how to push each other's buttons.

The fighting always ended with Hermione reminding them all that Tom couldn't have had enough time to hide Horcrux and they would be back to where they started.

When they finished fighting and returned to the cold shoulder treatments to each other, Albus would open his eyes and he would pace through the mist, trying to think of some way to help them, but lament the fact there was no longer anything he could do. They were on their own, and he just had to hope that they were able to pull through. He watched over them for weeks, watching how they traveled through the country like how he had done when he was searching for the Horcrux's himself.

They would then pass around the Horcrux every twelve hours or so, and they were all struggling to bear the weight. Harry's scar also kept bothering him at odd times during the day—but almost always when he had the Horcrux. Whenever he saw him wince, Ron would ask what he saw, and Harry always answered that he saw a face—the man who stole something from Gregorovitch.

And every time that he heard that name, he flinched at it. But he told himself that this was good… that Tom was obsessing over Grindelwald instead of Harry. Ron would then look away angrily, and he knew that he was hoping to hear news about his family or the Order. But Albus personally thought that he should be thankful that Harry couldn't give them any information. After all, that would mean that Tom was with them.

He reminded himself over countless times already that he set this all up for a reason, but it was hard to tell him that when he saw how angry and miserable they were. But finally, one evening, what he had feared the most had happened. Ron walked out on them. They had come across a small group of fugitives in the forest that they were in. A pair of goblins called Griphook and Gornuk, as well as—of all people—Ted Tonks and Dean Thomas.

While they were listening in, they heard some news of what was going on, including that the sword of Gryffindor up at the castle was a fake, and that Ginny, Neville, and Luna were punished for trying to take it. However, there wasn't anything to worry about… they were punished by being with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest.

He watched as the three brought their Extendable Ears back in, all of them looking terrified as Hermione lunged for her beaded bag and fought to pull out Phineas Nigellus's portrait—and Albus was suddenly grateful that they had moved it from Grimmauld Place. Hermione put the painting right up against the side of the tent, telling them that if the sword was taken, he'd have seen it.

"Unless he was asleep," said Harry.

Ah, but the portraits never sleep, they only like pretending that they do. Hermione was already having her wand pointing at the canvas, ready to cast a spell as she called, "Er—Phineas? Phineas Nigellus?"

As he expected, Phineas didn't bother coming and she tried again, a little more forcefully, "Phineas Nigellus? Professor Black? Please could we talk to you? Please?"

"'Please' always helps," Phineas's voice called snidely from the portrait, and as soon as he walked into view, Hermione made a black blindfold appear over his eyes, making him jump and shriek with pain. Albus couldn't help but laugh—wishing that he thought of doing that years ago.

"What—how dare—what are you—?" Phineas shrieked in outrage.

"I'm very sorry, Professor Black," said Hermione hurriedly, "but it's a necessary precaution!"

"Remove this foul addition at once!" he roared, "Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?"

Despite the situation, Albus couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it all. Really, he was glad to see that they were finally getting some information, as well as making things hard for Phineas.

"Never mind where we are," said Harry, and Phineas stopped moving at the sound of his voice.

"Can that possible be the voice of the elusive Mr. Potter?" he asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

Yes, Albus knew that Severus would certainly be interested as Harry taunted Phineas slightly to keep his interest in sticking around. "We've got a couple of questions to ask you—about the sword of Gryffindor," Harry finished asking.

Phineas was trying to look in Harry's direction though he couldn't get so much as a glimpse of him. "Ah, yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there—"

"Shut up about my sister," Ron barked, his temper so close to the boiling point these days, and Phineas raised his eyebrows as he demanded to know who else was there, telling them that they had been thieving.

Albus was suddenly wishing that Dexter or Dilys was here instead… at least they would be more helpful in this situation and not make it so difficult.

"They weren't thieving," Harry snapped angrily, "That sword isn't Snape's."

"It belongs to Professor Snape's school," Phineas retorted snidely, as if he was enjoying taunting them. "Exactly what claim did the Weasley girl have upon it? She deserved her punishment, as did the idiot Longbottom and the Lovegood oddity!"

Albus shook his head, having always wished that he wouldn't resort to petty insults. He had always wondered what made Phineas become a teacher if he didn't like children.

"Neville is not an idiot and Luna is not an oddity!" Hermione said angrily and Albus nodded along with her. But Phineas wasn't listening as he continued to try and get the blindfold off and asked where he was and why they removed him from the House of Black.

"I would've thought that you'd be glad for a change of scenery, Phineas," Albus chuckled to himself, but then again, with the blindfold on, he wasn't getting much of a view was he?

"Never mind that! How did Snape punish Ginny, Neville, and Luna?" asked Harry urgently, and Albus could almost feel the fear coming off him when he said Ginny's name.

"Professor Snape sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid," Phineas said with a rather smug smile. Albus felt his usual shred of anger when someone insulted Hagrid, and wanted to snap at him to be quiet… but the truth was, those three were safe with Hagrid. There was nothing for them to worry about…

"Hagrid's not an oaf!" said Hermione shrilly, and Albus nodded in full agreement at her words.

"And Snape might've though that was a punishment," said Harry, sounding a little better, "But Ginny, Neville, and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest… they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!"

At his words though, Ron's eyes narrowed as he glared at the back of Harry's head. Without another word, he slowly got up and went to lay in one of the lower bunks and Albus felt fear inside him at the sight of it. That expression couldn't mean anything good. However Harry and Hermione hadn't noticed any of this as they tried to press Phineas for more information about the sword, with Hermione even suggesting if it had been taken away for cleaning. Phineas sneered at them and explained how Goblin-made silver repels things such as dirt, only taking in what strengthens it.

Phineas finally had enough and staged to his feet as he tried to make his way back to his usual portrait.

"Dumbledore!" Harry cried out, and for one wild second, Albus thought that he was talking to him before Harry finished, "Can't you bring us Dumbledore?"

Shame suddenly went through him as he stepped back. "It doesn't work like that, Harry," he answered softly. "Though I wish it did…"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Phineas, stopping for a moment.

"Professor Dumbledore's portrait," Harry pressed on, "Couldn't you bring him along, here, into yours?"

"Evidently it is not only Muggle-borns who are ignorant, Potter," Phineas said as continued to feel around the edges of his portrait, looking for his way out. "The portraits of Hogwarts may commune with each other, but they cannot travel outside of the castle except to visit a painting of themselves elsewhere. Dumbledore cannot come here with me, and after the treatment I have received at your hands, I can assure you that I will not be making a return visit!"

Oh, Albus doubted that as he watched Phineas continue to search for the way out. He was sure that he was going to brag about this to everyone back at the office, and will most likely be sent out again until they were able to find out a way to get the sword to Harry.

"Professor Black," Hermione asked quickly as Phineas finally found the exit, "couldn't you just tell us, please, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?"

Phineas snorted impatiently and finally told them the truth… how he had seen Dumbledore use it to break open the ring. At long last they knew how to destroy the Horcruxes… but that also mean that it just added one more thing out there that they needed to find. Though Harry and Hermione weren't thinking about that at the moment. They were staring at each other in shock as Phineas continued to leave and Harry gave a sudden shout, "Wait! Have you told Snape you saw this?"

Of course he will… he's just barely able to hold back blurting it out right now. But rather than admit that, Phineas stuck his head back into view and snapped, "Professor Snape has more important things on his mind that the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Good-bye, Potter!"

Albus couldn't hold back the chuckle as Phineas vanished completely.

"Harry!" Hermione cried excitedly.

"I know!" Harry shouted as he punched the air and began to pace up and down as Hermione shoved Phineas's painting back into the bag—both of them had a renewed since of hope.

"The sword can destroy Horcruxes!" Hermione cried out, "Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them—Harry, that sword's impregnated with basilisk venom!"

"And Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket—" Harry added.

"—and he must have realized they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will—" Hermione went on.

"—so he made a copy—" Harry interrupted.

"—and put a fake in the glass case—" she cried out.

"—and he left the real one—where?" Harry finished and they seemed to have lost a little of their excitement at that. So they were able to put all the pieces together… but he kept glancing back at Ron's angry expression, worry filling his chest. This wasn't good… he wished that he could warn them, but he knew that he had to count on them to make the right choices now and hope for the best. It was all that he could do.

"Think!" whispered Hermione to him, and he could see her racking her brains over a place where they could start looking. "Think! Where would he have left it?"

"Not at Hogwarts," Harry said at once as he paced the ground once more, but Albus shook his head, knowing that was exactly where it was, though there was no way they could possibly know that.

Hermione frowned as she suggested, "Somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"The Shrieking Shack?" Harry offered. "Nobody ever goes in there."

That may be… and though he knew that he had been at death's door that entire year… he'd never have been careless enough to leave something like that lying around. Hermione realized that as well and reminded him that Severus knew how to get in and that would be rather risky.

"Dumbledore trusted Snape," Harry reminded her.

"Not enough to tell him that he had swapped the swords," said Hermione.

Now Albus didn't react to that, but he knew that was luckily untrue as well as Harry seemed to cheer at the fact and asked Ron what he thought before they finally realized that Ron wasn't there, and was instead lying in the shadow of a bunk, his face stony.

Albus felt sick at the heart at the sight of him. Ron was wearing the locket again… there was no way that this could end well.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" Ron asked them all coldly as they looked at him.

"What?" Harry asked, confusion on his face as he looked at him, wonder what was wrong as Ron snorted and stared up the underside of the bed as he told them sarcastically to carry on and not to let him spoil their fun. Albus shook his head as Harry and Hermione looked at each other, the happiness on their faces fading at once.

"What's the problem?" asked Harry firmly.

"Problem? There's no problem," said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry as he heard the sounds of rain starting to fall outside. "Not according to you, anyways."

"Well, you've obviously got a problem," said Harry, and he was starting to sound angry again. "Spit it out, will you?"

Albus looked away, tempted to open his eyes and to just turn away from this, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Ron, meanwhile swung his legs off the bed and sat up—his expression dark and cold, not like himself at all.

"All right, I'll spit it out," Ron said, his voice rising dangerously, "Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know."

Albus flinched at those words as he stepped away from him, knowing that if there was anyone here that needs to be blamed… it was himself. The rain seemed to reflect on their mood, for the rain was falling harder and heavier outside as Harry's eyes narrowed as he asked, "I don't know? I don't know?"

"It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here," Ron snapped at them both, "you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we'd been running round a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."

But they had… didn't he see it? They had already found one Horcrux after a short time, and they now know how to destroy it. Not to mention it had taken himself almost a whole school year to find the same Horcrux they had already.

Hermione tried to talk to Ron, to calm him down, but Ron easily pretended that he didn't hear her as he continued to glare at Harry.

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," said Harry.

"Yeah, I thought I did too," Ron admitted and Albus was shaking his head, having known that it was always going to be the most difficult for Ron out of the three of them.

Harry's temper was rising now as he demanded, "So what part of it isn't living up to your expectations? Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

"We thought you knew what you were doing!" shouted Ron, finally jumping to his feet, "We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!"

Albus bowed his head. This was his fault, not Harrys. Though he couldn't truly know exactly how much more he could have helped by telling him everything, Albus understood more than anyone how difficult this task was. But Ron shouldn't blame Harry for this since he had volunteered to come along, and Harry had never said he had all the answers. If they wanted to be angry at someone, they should've made it him… not each other. But still, Ron couldn't have thought that it would be that easy that he could've given them a map and plan before his death? Yet as he looked to the locket around Ron's neck, he tried to remind himself again that this wasn't his fault…

Deep down, he knew that all of Ron's insecurities were reaching their absolute limit and the Horcrux was taking advantage of that.

Hermione called Ron's name more loudly this time, but again he ignored her as Harry said in a calm and cold voice, "Well, sorry to let you down, I've been straight with you from the start. I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in the case you haven't noticed, we've found one Horcrux—"

"Yeah, and we're about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them—nowhere effing near in other words," Ron yelled.

Hermione finally had enough as she stepped forward and said in a voice higher than usual, "Take off the locket, Ron. Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day."

Yes, the locket was intensifying Ron's anger, but it wasn't just the locket saying those words. It was Ron himself… his fears, his resentments… those feelings had always been there. The locket was only bringing them to the front of his mind and amplified them to an uncontrollable rate.

"Yeah, he would," said Harry, cutting right to the core of the problem, "D'you think I haven't noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D'you think I didn't guess you were thinking this stuff?

Hermione looked terrified and tried to say that she had done no such thing, but this time it was Ron who barked at her not to lie. That she had said more than once that she was disappointed and that she had thought they had more to go on. Harry flinched a little and Hermione cried out, "I didn't say it like that—Harry, I didn't!"

Hermione started to cry and the rain was pounding on the outside, with Albus wishing fruitlessly that there was something that he could do to reason with them, just to let them know what an accomplishment they had done so far. This journey was never going to be easy… but they were making steps… and that there were people out there who had it so much worse than what they had.

But at last, Harry asked coldly, "So why are you still here?"

No… he didn't like the things that Ron said any more than they did, but he knew what it was like to fight with someone you were so close to. Ron was close to walking out, all it was going to take one more thing to push him over the edge.

"Search me," Ron said indifferently.

"Go home then," said Harry, his eyes full of anger, but also of hurt.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" shouted Ron, actually walking forward to Harry as if he was fighting every ounce of his being to stop himself from hitting him. But Harry stood his ground as Ron yelled, "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, it's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I've-Faced-Worse Potter doesn't care what happened to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—"

But she was perfectly safe with Hagrid, Ron should've reminded himself of that. He had checked for himself and the three of them actually had a party the whole night.

"I was only saying—she was with the others," Harry said, looking hurt that Ron would suggest that he didn't care about what happened to Ginny. "They were with Hagrid—"

"Yeah, I get it, you don't care!" Ron bellowed out, "And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasleys don't need another kid injured,' did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I—" Harry began, before Ron yelled, "Not bothered what it meant, though?"

Hermione stepped between them, forcing herself to be heard as she told them that it didn't necessarily mean that anything new could've happened. She reminded him about how Bill was already scarred, George had lost his ear, and now Ron was supposed to be on his deathbed with spattergroit. That was most likely all that they had meant and Albus nodded as he had also kept a close eye on all of them. None of them had anything happen to them… they were all under a great deal of stress but nothing else had happened to any of them.

"Oh, you're sure, are you?" Ron practically yelled, "Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them. It's all right for you, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way—"

Albus closed his eyes, knowing that Ron had finally gone too far, and wasn't the least bit surprised when Harry bellowed out, "My parents are dead!"

"And mine could be going the same way!" Ron bellowed at them.

And at long last, Harry lost his temper completely. "Then GO!" he roared out at the top of his lungs, "Go back to them, pretend you've got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and—"

For one moment, it looked as if the two boys would start dueling with the other and Hermione was forced to stop it by creating an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on one side, with Ron stuck on the other. Harry and Ron glared at each other fiercely, as if they had never seen each other for the first time and Harry snapped at him to leave the Horcrux.

Ron did so only too happily, he wrenched the chain from off his neck and threw it into one of the nearby chairs before he turned to Hermione and demanded, "What are you doing?"

And here was yet another contributing factor in this… jealously…

"What do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"Are you staying, or what?" he asked and Albus couldn't help but feel his heart constrict. He shouldn't force her to choose like this.

Hermione looked tormented as she looked between them, clearly not understanding what was going on before she finally whispered out, "I… Yes—yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help—"

Ron glared at her as if he had been the one betrayed. "I get it," he said, his voice cold, "You choose him."

Choose him? It had nothing to do with Ron… she was sticking with him because they were friends and she wanted to help him. This had nothing to do with romance at all. He had once suspected the same thing that there was something between them, but he soon realized that this wasn't like that at all. Their relationship was like a brother and sister… he's very protective of her, and she's very protective of him…

If there was anybody that she loved, it was that same person who was walking out on them.

Ron had turned and run away, as if determined never to look back, even as she screamed at him to stop. She had been thrown back by her own Shield Charm, and by the time she was able to remove it, he had already disappeared into the night, disappearing into the darkness as Hermione tearfully chased after him.

Albus opened his eyes and stared at the mist in front of him at the copy of his office. This is bigger than any one person… many people have it worse than he does, but at the same time, he couldn't be angry with Ronald.

He knew that Ron will want to come back as soon as he's calmed down and thought it over. But when he checked on Ron, it was too late. He kept an eye on him, hoping that he would be able to get back right away… he knew that he loved them both, and just wasn't thinking straight. He could see from the look on Ron's face once he had calmed down… a look of complete shock came over him and he was breathing hard, as if he fighting the urge to be sick.

He stared around him, trying to figure out where he was and why he was here. He walked on for just a few minutes, and seemed to be muttering curses to himself… but he was so lost in thought he didn't even notice how he walked right into a group of men. Albus knew them to be Snatchers, bounty hunters trying to round up any Muggle-borns and Ron couldn't have walked into a worse group. They noticed him there as he looked hurriedly around for a place to hide, but they blocked him off.

As they circled him, they had grabbed him by the hair and had him in a tight choke hold as another restrained him, the third snatching up his wand.

The leader was easily the biggest and meanest of the bunch as they dragged him off to a nearby alley.

"Ooh, look what we got here!" the leader smirked excitedly, looking at Ron like he was his meal ticket.

"Yeah, this one looks to be about 'Ogwarts age, what do you reckon?" the one who had Ron in a headlock asked.

"Now, hang on. Let's at least give the boy a chance to explain himself first," the leader sneered, "If he can't do that, then we'll just hand him over without any problems. Right?"

As they all began to laugh and jeer at him, nodding their heads like excited dogs, the leader punched Ron in the gut and demanded, "Who the hell are ye?"

"Answer 'im, ginger if you don't want to make him angry," they laughed.

Albus looked to Ron, knowing that he was clever… he could think of a way out of this mess. But he had to be careful. These guys weren't smart, but they were violent and weren't afraid to use it.

"So, I'll ask again, ginger," the leader said darkly, "See… we aren't bad blokes. Just trying to make a living. We're rounding up all the Mudbloods and Blood Traitors we can find, see? We then drag them off to the Ministry for… questioning. We won't hurt you anymore than we have ta… just tell us who you are."

Ron gulped, but seemed to be finding some kind of inner fire in him as he finally said the first name that came to his mind, "Stan Shunpike!"

The four of them looked at each other in confusion, trying to figure out where they heard that name before.

"Stan?" one of the repeated, the one with Ron's wand. "Stan Shunpike? Sounds familiar…"

"Arr, don't tell me ya actually believe him!" the one restraining Ron's arms demanded.

"I never said I did!" he retorted, "I don't know alright! Have any of you heard of 'im?"

This was good… they were distracted. Albus looked back to see Ron's face and he seemed to be trying hard not to panic as he looked around him. As long as he stayed calm, he could get out of this. He didn't dare say anything for some time as he let the four of them argue the case. They went on for a couple hours, half of them seeming close to believe the name, while the other two didn't seem to care and wanted to turn him over to the Ministry right away and get paid.

"Look!" the leader yelled, finally getting tired of holding Ron's head and let the other hold onto Ron's arms as he got right up in the other two's faces. "He's clearly a Mudblood on the run ain't he? I say that we just hand him over! Even if he's not one of 'em, we'll still earn some gold for it."

"Yeah? And what if he's proven not to be, eh?" the one with Ron's wand yelled back, "We won't be getting none of them gold if he's not a Mudblood!"

By this point, the only one still holding Ron was shaking a hand at them, and that was when Ron decided to use that to his advantage. Since he was holding Ron with just one arm, he was able to twist around and gave him a good punch right in the nose before he dove at the one with his wand. The others had been so absorbed into their argument that they didn't realize what was going on until Ron wrestled his wand and ran for it. By the time that they made a mad grab for him, Ron turned on the spot and disapparated.

Sighing in relief, Albus followed after Ron, knowing where he wanted to be more than anywhere else. But he messed up the disapparating, landing several miles away from the piece of riverbank that Harry and Hermione were. Yet the worst that happened to him were the two lost fingernails, showing that he was getting better.

He ignored the slight splinching and went running down the river, not able to remember just where the spot was. He walked along for hours, trying to find some trace of the camp, but their protections were just too strong and knew that Ron wouldn't have a hope of finding them. He had been held hostage by those Snatchers for most of the night, and the sun was just starting to creep into the sky. But by the time he finally found the place, he was too late.

Albus knew that Harry and Hermione waited for him to come back as long as possible. They were holding onto the hope that he would come back, and he wished that he could tell them to wait just a little longer. Hermione looked as if she had been crying, and were dawdling when it came time to pack—as if hoping that he would suddenly appear.

At the sight of them separated like this, it made him wish that he left more information with Harry. But he hoped that they could one day understand why he did it… to purposely try to slow them down. The two lingered for a good extra hour before they had repacked the beaded bag at least three times and removed the protective charms around them. At long last, they no longer saw any reason to stay and he watched them Disapparate to a windswept heather-covered hill before Hermione broke down sobbing.

All of their thoughts and actions are understandable. The three of them have an extremely close bond. Even the most irrational action are regrettable. It was like just one of them wasn't complete without the other two.

Harry looked like he wanted to comfort her, but he appeared to have nothing to say as he cast the spells to protect them. He couldn't stand the trio separation, but he was glad that Harry and Hermione were protected.

If only they had waited for another half an hour though… for it was then that Ron finally found his way back, but saw that they were gone. He searched all over desperately, trying to find some trace of a tent or footprint. But after looking around for at least an hour, he came to the hard conclusion that they were no longer here. When he realized that, he threw his arms up into the air and cried out in frustration as he fell to his knees.

Albus felt his heart go out to him as he knelt there… moaning out his friend's names, but lost as to what he should do. Yet Albus wanted him to get back to his feet and leave this place. He couldn't stay here… the longer that he was here, the more likely he would be found, and he might not be as lucky as he was with those Snatchers this time. At long last, looking like a broken puppet, Ron got to his feet and disapparated away from the river and went to the one person that he thought could help him.

He had gone to Shell Cottage where his brother and new wife were spending their first Christmas. Albus let out a sad sigh as he opened his eyes and stared miserably at the mist that was hovering around them.

At least he knew that Ron was safe for the moment. He had always known that he was going to have a harder time than the other two when it came to this journey, and he had been secretly afraid that something like this would happen. So he had left Ron a way to come back… but only if all three of them wanted him to.

He spent a lot of time working on the Deluminator to act as a kind of… homing device. Whenever Hermione or Harry mention Ron's name, he'll be able to hear that even if they are far away. It will also act as a guild, leading Ron back to them. How this works was something he spent a great deal of time perfecting. But basically it creates a kind of light that will enter his chest, near his heart and allow him to disapparate to where the two of them are. In a sense, Ron himself becomes a kind of Portkey.

He had come up with this idea by remembering the epitaph that was on his mother and sister's grave. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also… a way back to the ones that your treasure the most.

He had come to hope that Harry and Hermione would talk about Ron at least once, but because of the level of how hurt and angry they were at him, they were refusing to say his name at all. Harry seemed intent to never use Ron's name again, and Hermione looked to be just fine at that idea, except at night when she would cry herself to sleep.

From that moment on, Harry would pull out the map that he had heard about and he would watch it in great fascination that there was such a map all this time. It showed every room and where everyone was, and Albus was wondering if he was expecting Ron's name to appear there. But he wouldn't go back. Everyone knows how close he was to Harry—they would take him to the Ministry for interrogation as soon as he appeared. Not to mention that it would put his family in danger if he suddenly recovered from spattergroit, an incurable disease.

As for Ron, after he explained to Bill and Fleur why he left, how sick he was with himself for doing so, he seemed to be living in a kind of daze. Neither Bill nor Fleur said anything to him about it, but he could tell that they were both deeply disappointed in him. Yet, they let him stay, despite the fact that he seemed to be as lost as Harry and Hermione where without him there.

At times, he knew Harry would become furious with him—not Ron, but Albus… he would hear him cursing his name whenever he was alone, but he didn't fault him at all for that. It's only fair that there would be a deal of resentment and anger on his part. Albus could also see that he was keeping an eye on Hermione as well, as if fearful that she would leave as well. He hoped that Harry wouldn't continue to think like that. This is no simple task and for what he has accomplished so far is amazing. And Hermione was still there… the Order was fight… as well as Dumbledore's Army.

Speaking of which, he had been watching over his school and it felt like a knife in the heart to see just how terrible things had gotten. Some of the students were rebelling against their new oppressors and were being strictly punished for it. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were doing their best to continue on with Dumbledore's Army and he could see that Ginny was constantly thinking of Harry as much as Harry was thinking of her.

Those two devoted themselves to trying to think of possible locations that the real sword of Gryffindor could be. But each theory they came up with was as desperate and as far-fetched as the next one. Albus knew that they needed the sword if they were going to finish this quest, and he entrusted it to Severus… but how was he going to get it to them now?

As for Severus, he wasn't having any easier a time. The other teachers, aside from the Carrows, were looking at him with barely-disguised anger and disgust—but it wasn't with him that they had a problem with. Alecto Carrow replaced Charity Burbage as Professor of Muggle Studies, and her brother Amycus was now the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Severus had just made it back to his old office, looked as worn-out as Albus felt. He was just making it back to the deck when Phineas came running back into his portrait, the blindfold still on, and banged his head against the side of his frame.

"Headmaster!" he yelled, "I've just heard from Potter and his little friends!"

Severus was startled at that, and the other portraits stopped laughing at Phineas long enough to register what he said.

"What?" Severus demanded, going straight over to his portrait, "You know where they are?"

"Why this is wonderful news!" Albus's own portrait cried out joyfully. "How are they?"

"I don't know!" Phineas snapped at him, still trying to take the blindfold off. "They covered my eyes and I couldn't see a damn thing! But they sure had the gull to ask me a lot of questions! The nerve of them…!"

Albus rolled his eyes at that as Severus pulled out his wand and removed the blindfold. "What happened?" he demanded. "I know that those brats had compromised Grimmauld Place and have been on the run ever since."

Phineas felt his face and eyes as if making sure that he was just like how he was before he answered, "That Granger girl is carrying around my portrait from the house of my forefathers in her bag! The outrage I have, you wouldn't believe…?"

"Just get to the point!" Dilys yelled from her spot on the wall.

"If you must know, she pulled out my portrait and summoned me," he went on snidely. "They put the stupid blindfold on me, thus ruining a work of art if you ask me, and then demanded to know what happened to the sword and those three brats who tried to take it."

"How'd they find out?" Severus asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Hell if I know," he said coldly, "But they know now that the sword at Gringotts is a fake and are on the lookout for the real one."

"But they cannot take the sword and use it properly unless under acts of courage and selflessness," Albus's portrait self piped up. "Severus…?"

"I know…" he grumbled at him. "I have to get the sword to them somehow. But without knowing exactly where they are, there's not much I can do." He looked back to Phineas and asked, "Did you hear them mention a place?"

"No," Phineas said coldly, "I told you that I couldn't see anything!"

"I think that we should add a mask or something else so that we can't see your face," Dilys added.

"Or something to keep his mouth shut!" Dexter piped up hopefully.

"What?!" Phineas yelled, "Why I've never been more insulted in all my life!"

"Shut up!" Severus barked and both Albus's nodded tiredly at that. "Phineas, keep in touch with them. Sooner or later, they'll slip up and we'll find out where they are."

"Do I have to?" Phineas whined out, "They are almost as unbearable as the rest of you!" he added the last four words loudly to the other portraits before he said, "They are most unpleasant company."

"I don't care," Severus scowled at him. "You are to go to them if they call you and listen in for any clues that could help us. But most of all, to find out where they are hiding out. But don't act to eager… but subtle and cautious. As dense as Potter is, he's not completely hopeless…"

"Why, Severus… that's got to be the nicest thing you've ever said about Harry," portrait Albus spoke up cheerfully.

"Don't get me wrong," Severus said coldly to him, "I still think that he's hopeless and arrogant… but they've lasted this long. I still don't get why you wanted them to having the blasted sword in the first place. It's more trouble than it's worth."

"Maybe…" Albus said as he opened his eyes. "But it's the only chance they have to finish this war once and for all."

Their side was making progress, but Voldemort was quickly gaining control everywhere. Every week that went by there were more deaths, more disappearances, and kidnappings. People were being thrown into Azkaban for the littlest of things while Muggles are being hunted down for sport. There's panic and fear everywhere… all he could do was stay and comfort all the poor people who had come to join him in his astral plane. He comforted them with kind words about their deaths, and gave them hope for their family and friends left behind… but he still believed in all who were fighting against Voldemort. He was sure that they could finish this, and he just had to wait until that joyful moment when this war ended.

It had already been about four months since the wedding, and three of those months the trio spent in a tent… and two without Ron by their side. They seemed to be running themselves ragged with the feeble hope of figuring out where the sword was. But one night, Harry came to Hermione with a question… Albus knew that it was important because Harry let them take the locket off for a while and waited until she had a full stomach before he approached her nervously.

"Hermione, I've been thinking, and –" Harry began, but Hermione interrupted him as if she hadn't even heard him.

"Harry, could you help me with something?" she asked as she pulled out the Tales of Beedle the Bard. "Look at the symbol," she said and Albus felt his eyes twinkle. At last, Hermione was starting to figure out the clue that he wanted her to discover. However, he was filled with fear at the thought of what this will lead onto…

"I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione," Harry said as he walked over and looked over it.

"I know that; but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either," she told him, "All along I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in, look, somebody's drawn it there, it isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?"

"No…" he said before he blinked and looked closer. "No, wait a moment. Isn't it the same symbol Luna's dad was wearing round his neck?"

Yes, that was good… they were on just the right track.

"Well, that's what I thought too!" Hermione said.

"Then it's Grindelwald's mark," Harry informed her and she stared at him, her mouth falling open. Albus grimaced a little at the mention of Grindelwald.

"Krum told me…" Harry informed her, and he quickly told her about how he spoke with Viktor Krum when they crossed paths at the wedding and Hermione looked astonished.

"Grindelwald's mark?" she asked again as she looked from him to the book and back again, as if she just couldn't believe it. "I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark," she said, wracking her brains. "There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him."

"Well, like I say, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there," Harry informed her as she leaned back and was frowning slightly.

Yes, he supposed that Grindelwald did have a great obsession with it. Almost as much as he did when he was young.

"That's very odd. If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it is weird," said Harry, also thinking about it. "And you'd think Scrimgeour would have recognized it. He was Minister, he ought to have been expert on Dark stuff."

Maybe not the best Minister, but he was certainly a great Auror in his time, but then again, that mark isn't an evil one… just one of great temptation.

"I know…" Hermione whispered, looking at the marking again as she talked to herself, "Perhaps he thought it was an eye, just like I did. All the other stories have little pictures over the titles."

As Hermione went on with thinking it all over, Harry looked nervous again. He then said, "Hermione…?"

"Hmm?" she asked, still frowning at the book, and Harry finally told her what it was that he wanted.

"I've been thinking," he told her, "I – I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Albus inhaled sharply, his throat feeling dry and his insides seemed to freeze. He should've guessed that was what it was about. Though a part of him knew that Harry deserved to go there and see the place with his own eyes, he knew that it just wasn't safe for him now. Tom was watching that place very closely, having a good idea that Harry might go back there… and so he set his snake Nagini there to keep a watch on everything.

Hermione looked up. "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "Yes, I've been wondering that too. I really think we'll have to."

"Did you hear me right?" Harry asked, startled at what he heard. Albus would've laughed if he hadn't felt so miserable. Harry was braced for a lot of resistance on this…

"Of course I did," she said. "You want to go to Godric's Hollow. I agree. I think we should. I mean, I can't think of anywhere else it could be either. It'll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems it's there."

Albus shook his head. That was far too obvious to hide the sword—the obvious is not always the truth. Harry seemed confused and asked what she was talking about and Hermione told him that Dumbledore knew that he'd want to go back there and that Godric Gryffindor was born there… which Harry seemed surprised.

Albus shook his head fondly. Has Harry ever read A History of Magic?

"Harry, did you ever even open A History of Magic?" Hermione asked exasperatedly, unknowingly voicing what Albus had been thinking.

"Erm," he said, and his face seemed to be working very hard as he smiled. "I might've opened it, you know, when I bought it… just the once…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to tell him all about Godric's Hallow before she remembered that Bathilda Bagshot wrote A History of Magic. She pulled out their old textbook copy of said book and she began to read out facts and figures from it.

"You and your parents aren't mentioned," she finished as she closed the book, a new excitement in her eyes. "Because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the end of the nineteenth century. But you see? Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor's sword; don't you think Dumbledore would have expected you to make the connection?"

When said like that, Albus had to admit that it did sound logical to him, but because of the connections to Harry's past—as well as his own—he didn't want Harry anywhere near Godric's Hallow. But these two must've been desperate to find something to do as Harry did end up agreeing. But he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the sword on Harry's mind.

"Remember what Muriel said?" he asked eventually and Albus seemed to shrink back.

"Who?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"You know," Harry said before he hesitated for a moment and said, "Ginny's great-aunt. At the wedding. The one who said you had skinny ankles."

"Oh," said Hermione stiffly and Albus knew that they were sensing Ron's name almost spoken before Harry went on to say that Bathilda Bagshot was living in Godric's Hollow.

Was living there… Albus knew that she had been dead for months. And the kind of dark magic that had been placed onto Bathilda's body was something that he couldn't let them see. But what could be done? Once again, he cursed his own helplessness.

"Bathilda Bagshot," murmured Hermione, running her index finger over Bathilda's embossed name on the front cover of A History of Magic. "Well, I suppose –" and then she gasped out in such a way that Harry turned to the entrance, thinking that there was someone there. He had also reacted much the same way, tensing up and holding his breath—thinking that they were under attack. Harry turned to her and snapped at her for that, before Hermione came up with the theory that the sword was with Bathilda.

He shook his head. No… even if she was still alive, Bathilda was nowhere near the right state of mind. It wasn't safe with her… that would've left a great deal to chance. At this point both so desperate to move forward they were now simply grasping at straws. Which is understandable. Knowing how important what they're doing is and feeling as if you haven't been able to do much is really difficult.

"Yeah, he might have done!" Harry asked eagerly, "So, are we going to go to Godric's Hollow?"

"Yes, but we'll have to think it through carefully, Harry," she said, her spirits rising greatly now that they might be having a plan again. She began to list of things such as Disillusionment Charms, Polyjuice Potion, practicing Disapparating together under the Invisibility Cloak…

They couldn't be too careful now… he didn't agree with them going to that place… but he could see that Harry seemed to be lost in thoughts and he knew what it was about. Perhaps, if nothing else, it would be a moral boost…

Later that night, when Harry was standing guard, he pulled out the photo album that Hagrid had given him back in his first year… which seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. And he watched him stared long and hard at the pictures, his eyes blank… his mind a million miles away. Albus drew back before he opened his eyes and stared off at the mist for a long time.

What would have happened if James and Lily had lived, he wondered? He wished that he could go back and prevent their deaths from happening. He remembered how James and Lily had always talked about having more children after the war… he smiled to himself as he remembered how James wanted to have enough kids to start his own Quidditch Team… but he knew that he would never know for sure… none of them would.

But his heart felt like it was being constricted painfully at the thought and he felt a tear fall from his eyes.

Over the next few days, he watched how they carefully planned out what they were going to do. They obtained hairs from a couple Muggles who were doing their shopping, practiced Apparating and Disapparating while under the Cloak, and then they finally felt ready. But they were cautious, since they were sure that Voldemort was expecting Harry to return to Godric's Hallow sooner or later.

But Harry was looking upset by that as well—and Albus was sure that Harry didn't want to return as someone else. But there was nothing that could be done about that… though he hoped that one day Harry would be able to return to this place after this war was over. On Christmas Eve, the two swallowed the Polyjuice Potion so that they looked like an innocent, middle-aged Muggle couple, packed all their belongings into the beaded bag, and lowered the Invisibility Cloak over their heads.

Soon they were all standing in a snowy lane under a dark blue sky, in which the night's first stars were already glimmering feebly. Cottages stood on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows. A short way ahead of them, a glow of golden streetlights indicated the center of the village.

Albus sighed, remembering his time here when he was younger… how he had used to dread returning home during the holidays and the summer when he was a child. How he missed them now, and continued to long to move on and join his family at long last. No… he waited this long to see them, and he was sure that he could wait a little longer.

"All this snow!" he heard Hermione whisper beneath the cloak. "Why didn't we think of snow? After all our precautions, we'll leave prints! We'll just have to get rid of them – you go in front, I'll do it –"

"Let's take off the Cloak," Harry's voice said, "Oh, come on, we don't look like us and there's no one around."

Yes, but there was always a chance that they could be recognized.

Still, Harry took the Cloak off and tucked it into his jacket as they made their way through the village, looking around, wondering just where to go. Then the little lane along which they were walking curved to the left and the heart of the village, a small square, was revealed to them. Strung all around with colored lights, there was what looked like a war memorial in the middle, partly obscured by a windblown Christmas tree. There were several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square.

Villagers were crisscrossing in front of them, their figures briefly illuminated by streetlamps. They heard a snatch of laughter and pop music as the pub door opened and closed; then they heard a carol start up inside the little church.

"Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!" said Hermione in great surprise.

What a way to celebrate the holiday… though it doesn't make much of a difference for these two… they couldn't have celebrated even if they had known it was Christmas Eve.

"Is it?" Harry asked, and he had clearly been losing track of the days as well.

"I'm sure it is," said Hermione, her eyes upon the church. "They… they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it."

Though he couldn't feel the snow, Albus felt cold inside. Harry stopped at her words, fear in his face, but Hermione seemed to understand. She gave him a gentle look as she reached out and took his hand, leading him forward.

But as they walked on, they spotted something that he had been sure would get their attention. The old war memorial had been enchanted so that whenever a witch or wizard got close enough they would be able to see it transform. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. As soon as they realized what it was, Harry came walking up to it and stared up at his parent's face, his eyes glazed over as he seemed lost in his own little world.

Hermione didn't say anything as she let him stay there for as long as he wanted before he seemed to have enough. He watched as the two of them turned, and left the statue, though Harry took one last glance at it from over his shoulder as they went closer to the church. They spotted the kissing gate to the entrance to the graveyard, and Hermione pushed it open, staring at the rows and rows of tombstones in front of them.

Harry's hand was deep in his pocket, clearly holding onto his wand as he moved to the grave closest to them.

"Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah's!" he said dangerously loud.

Hermione gave him a stern look as she begged, "Keep your voice down."

Albus couldn't help but agree. It would've been for the best if they were still under the Invisibility Cloak, but it couldn't be helped. He sat back and watched as they walked into the graveyard, looking at the graves one-by-one… Albus looked away though, he knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before they found the graves… and not just Lily and James's… and he was right.

For only a short time later, Hermione was calling for Harry to come over and Albus couldn't stand looking any longer for he knew whose graves that Hermione had stopped by.

Harry was coming back towards her, looking anxious as he asked, "Is it – ?"

"No," she said as she pointed to the dark stone, "But look!"

And when Harry looked down at it, he knew that he could clearly read the dates of birth on it.

Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

That had been the hard lesson he learned the day that he lost Ariana. That you don't understand just what your treasure was… until you lose it. More tears fell down his cheek, aching to go on already to see them all… but he couldn't yet. He forced himself to stay here and see this through. Treasure those you care about most with all your heart was what he was always trying to remind himself.

As he watched Harry crouch down so that he could read the names, he couldn't help but feel a strange connection. Not for the first time, he saw so much of himself in this young man that sometimes it terrified him. It was for that reason that he made it so difficult for them… he didn't want Harry to make the same mistakes that he had… he wanted him to know but not to seek…

He wondered what would've happened if he had told Harry the whole truth. But he just couldn't bring himself to say it, his past had always been a sore spot for him and it was difficult to share that with anyone… especially with Harry. But he would've like that…

"Are you sure he never mentioned – ?" Hermione began timidly.

"No," said Harry briskly, standing back up, and walked away as he told them to keep looking. He knew that cold sound, as if Harry didn't care, but he had a strong feeling that he did care a lot about this. He sounded more hurt than anything else out there. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, betrayal, sorrow all mixed together in that pain shining in his eyes.

Albus knew that he had caused that pain, or, at very least, had allowed that pain to be caused. Never more had he felt like a monster than he did at that moment.

But as the waves of guilt threatened to over-power him, Hermione had just called out again, before she added, "Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter."

Harry, who had started to come over, stopped, and continued searching on his own as Hermione was rubbing at the mossy grave with a frown. "Harry, come back a moment," she called.

Now looking grumpy, Harry came forward, asking what it was this time. He looked at the grave that Hermione had pointed out, and Albus could see that this was Ignotus's grave… Harry's ancestor, though he doesn't know it. Hermione pointed to the symbol beneath it. "Harry, that's the mark in the book!"

He let out a quiet sigh. He wasn't sure that he wanted them to see this clue necessarily-it being so close to something that Harry treasures, but he was glad that they had stumbled upon it anyhow. Harry peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it was hard to make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath the nearly illegible name.

"Yeah… it could be…" he said a little absent-mindedly as Hermione lit her wand and read out the name. But then he told her stiffly that he was going to keep look for his parents and went off without another word. He walked up and down the seemingly endless rows, searching for his parent's names… even as it continued to grow darker around them and the carolers had finished their songs and the church lights had been told off.

At long last, Hermione's voice called, "Harry, they're here… right here."

Albus gave a sad sigh, knowing that she had found the right grave this time. He knew that Harry wanted to see this place for a long time, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for it so suddenly. Harry seemed to suddenly wonder this as well as he moved towards her… walking slowly, as if there was something heavy strapped to his legs that kept him from moving easily.

Lily and James's graves were two rows behind his mother and sister, and at long last, Harry was standing right in front of it.

JAMES POTTER, LILY POTTER

BORN 27 MARCH 1960, BORN 30 JANUARY 1960

DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981, DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

They were both so young… just barely into their twenties, and they had lost so much… taken away from them. But more than anything else, it pained him to see how much their son had to go through all on his own.

"'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'…" Harry read out, looking up in horror at Hermione. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

No… just that death is the next great adventure.

"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Hermione, her voice gentle as she looked at him, seeing how hard this must be. "It means… you know… living beyond death. Living after death."

But Harry just looked at his parent's names, and tears were falling from his eyes—possibly one of the only few times that he could remember seeing Harry cry… at least so openly. As if he didn't care who was watching anymore.

He didn't blame him in the slightest. Harry didn't' even have any memories, at least not any good memories, of his parents. And this was the closest that he would ever get again to being with them… though he knew that wasn't true.

Harry was doing his best to do what Albus had asked him, but the hardest part for him wasn't the danger or the mystery here. Even Albus could see that as he watched those tears of longing, that there was a part of him that wished that he could be with them. He shouldn't think like that.

Albus knew better than anyone how difficult it was to believe that those we love still love us even when they were gone. Because they weren't here to say the words that they loved them, to explain why they did the things that they did, and it's easy to believe that they are simply gone, past caring or loving anyone. But Albus also knew that Lily and James could see him… and that they've been watching over their son all this time. Harry has long since earned these tears. All heroes cry… not because they are weak, but because they've been strong for too long.

Hermione seemed to understand, for she took his hand and gave him a kind of silent comfort for him. She even conquered up a wreath of Christmas roses and Harry gave her a grateful look as he set the wreath on the grave. Once he stood there for as long as he could stand, he silently put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist as they walked away from the grave and out of the cemetery without a look back.

Albus only wished that Ron could be there and to lend his support and comfort to him as well… it just made their falling out all the more tragic. But Ron never stopped caring about him… he had been watching over Ronald as well and he was keeping an eye and ear out for any trace of them—searching for a way back.

(Another chapter done. We're reaching the end of the story at long last. I'm thinking six or seven more chapters should do it. Anyway, next up will be the attack at Godric's Hallow as well as Ron returning… perhaps we can even reach the story of the Deathly Hallows. Until then, hope you enjoy this chapter.)