Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Forty-Four: Revelation
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It had been two days, and Ginny didn't stray very far from the Hospital Wing. Harry still hadn't woken up, but she was hoping that he would soon. Perhaps her mum would tone it down a notch if she had some sort of reassurance that Harry was indeed going to make a full recovery.

Mrs Weasley had been operating at warp speed for the last forty-eight hours. She was in and out of the Hospital Wing every few hours, and each time she returned, she carried with her a new message from Audrey. Between still running the house and helping out with the Order and fussing over an unconscious Harry, it amazed Ginny that her mum still had enough energy to yell at Ron and Hermione. But she was a Weasley, and so it made sense that she would schedule time for conflict.

Judging by the stories she heard from Ron and Hermione, Ginny was almost relieved that she was spending most of her time at Harry's bedside.

'It's bloody ridiculous,' Ron told her. The three of them were sitting around Harry's hospital bed. 'We're getting up early every morning and doing chores. She won't even let me go to training! And she won't let us out of her sight for more than twenty minutes because she thinks we're going to leave again. As if we'd leave without Harry!' He sighed dramatically and leaned back in his chair. 'Tell her, Hermione.'

Ginny looked to Hermione, who shrugged. 'It is rather annoying,' she said. 'But we did take off without telling her. To be fair –'

'None of this is fair,' Ron complained. 'I'll be eighteen in a few months. I don't need someone following me around all bloody day long.'

Hermione sighed. 'We left without saying a word,' she said. 'I'm sure she was worried sick. Your mum has gone through a lot lately. She has a right to want to keep you close. Especially after … what happened.' She trailed off, but it was no wonder to anyone what Hermione meant.

'Oh, so it's my fault?' he snapped, standing up. Hermione stood up as well, her eyes wide.

'I never said that!'

'You didn't have to say it!'

'Ron –'

'Admit it,' he said. 'You think the reason my mum's a mess is because she thought I was dead before. Go on, say it! It's my fault!'

'Would you both shut up?' Ginny demanded.

'She's right,' said Hermione. 'We don't have time to fight. We have to start looking for the next Horcrux.'

Ron crossed his arms. 'It doesn't matter. We can't do anything until Harry wakes up, anyway.'

'We might have to,' she said.

'What?'

'He's going to need quite some time to recover. And who knows when he's going to wake up. We might have to keep looking without him,' said Hermione, and Ginny winced. She didn't want to think about how long it would take Harry to get back on his feet. And she knew that Ron didn't, either. He was quite unresponsive to the idea of Harry being anything other than perfectly okay when he awoke. In fact, Ginny thought that bringing this sort of thing up right now would probably start another fight between the two of them.

'We can't go anywhere without Harry.'

'We can and we probably will,' she argued. 'Honestly, if you don't start –'

'Damn it, Hermione! You want to boss us around like always, but we aren't eleven anymore! Harry is in charge here – not the Order and not my parents and not you!' cried Ron. 'Harry's seen things – done things – that I can't even imagine. Things that you've never read about in any of your stupid books. We don't know, and he does, so we're going to listen to him and do what he tells us to. Because we're all going to die if we don't.'

'I'm not going to sit on my hands and feel absolutely helpless because my name isn't Harry Potter! This war is about more than that!'

'This war is about Harry and Voldemort,' argued Ron. 'Harry is the war! He doesn't get to run away and hide when it gets tough!'

'Neither do we!' screamed Hermione.

'Yes, we do! We never would. But if it came down to it, with Voldemort – if there was a moment when we absolutely had to run – we could go and it wouldn't change the outcome of anything. There's a difference between us and him. There always has been.' His voice broke. 'Harry … he doesn't get the choice like we do.'

Ginny bowed her head, because it was an awful thing to think about. What her brother had just said – these were the thoughts that ran through her mind all the time. That kept her up at night. That made her lose her appetite. Verbalizing them – hearing Ron, of all people, verbalize them – was too much.

This was all true, but only on the condition that Harry woke up. What if Harry never woke up? She fought for her breath at the idea of Harry being like this forever. Try as she did, she could not get herself to care that the Wizarding World would be doomed without Harry Potter to save them. She could only think of herself, and how she wouldn't be able to survive if Harry wasn't there with her.

'So you – you have to respect that. And you have to respect the fact that you might be a hell of a lot smarter than Harry and me combined, but you still can't do a bloody thing without him.'

'Ginny,' Harry groaned.

She felt her heart jolt, and suddenly the moment was forgotten. It didn't matter that Ron and Hermione were arguing over serious things, instead of just their regular pointless disagreements over whether or not a book about Quidditch could be considered literature.

'Harry,' she said, blinking furiously. She wanted to make sure this was real. Had she fallen asleep? Not likely, given the noise Ron and Hermione had been making.

Ron and Hermione were at Harry's beside immediately, and the only indications of their fight were Ron's flushed cheeks and Hermione's shining eyes.

'Ginny,' he repeated, his eyes pressed tightly closed. 'You're killing my hand.'

She looked down, actually surprised to see her hand, knuckles white, gripping Harry's.

She loosened her grip but didn't let go. Harry was awake. Finally. Was she the only one who thought it seemed like years since she'd seen the colour of his eyes?

'How are you feeling?' she whispered.

He looked at her. 'This is where I act really tough and say I feel fine,' he said, his smirk faint but there, and she melted. 'What happened?'

Ginny looked to Ron for the answer. She'd heard the story told so many times, but she never gave it the chance to sink in. All she knew was that Harry had been hurt. Because none of the other facts had mattered.

'You tell me,' said Ron. 'One minute you had the Horcrux and we were about to get the hell out of there, and the next you were on your knees yelling your bloody head off.'

Harry's eyes closed briefly. 'Voldemort,' he said. 'I forgot. He was in my head … like that time at the Ministry … I must have collapsed.'

'I'd say,' said Ron. 'The Invisibility Cloak came off you and someone saw you, so they fired a spell and sliced you up real nice.'

'So that's why I feel like I've been cut in half,' he muttered. 'What happened then?'

Ron shrugged. 'I grabbed you and got the hell out of there.'

'What?' Harry cried, sitting up. He winced.

'Lay back down,' Ginny ordered, getting to her feet.

Harry didn't move. 'What about the Horcrux?' he asked. 'Ron – tell me you grabbed it before you grabbed me.'

'Don't be ridiculous!' said Hermione. 'You come before any stupid Horcrux!'

'No, I don't,' Harry snapped. He looked at Ron, whose expression changed dramatically. 'Well?'

'Yeah, we got it,' Ron mumbled, and he didn't sound half as pleased as Ginny thought he should.

'Thank Merlin,' Harry said. He frowned. 'Bugger. We left the Invisibility Cloak behind.'

Ron shook his head. 'No, we got it. It was tangled up with us when we Apparated to the hotel room. Hermione and I went back yesterday to get all of our things and check out … I found it and brought it back.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'Thanks.'

Everything Audrey had instructed Ginny to do came rushing back to her, and she reached for a potion. 'Drink this,' she said, holding it out for Harry.

He stared at it for a long while before drinking it, and then appeared to be fighting his gag reflex after he'd swallowed. 'Disgusting,' he complained, lying back down.

There was silence for a moment. Ginny closed her eyes and wished for the ability to communicate with Harry again. Where had their connection gone? Shouldn't it have come back when he'd woken up?

She couldn't even believe how empty her head felt now, without Harry's thoughts mingling with her own. How could she have become so addicted to Harry? They hadn't even kept their walls down very often. She regretted that now. She should have known that their gift would be only temporary. She should have savoured it, instead of ignoring it and treating it as though it was a strange inconvenience.

As if Harry was reading her mind – which, she realized with a pang, was no longer possible – he looked at her with startled eyes.

'How come I can't –?' he asked, and then trailed off. Ron and Hermione were with them, and as far as Harry knew, neither one of them knew anything about their connection.

'I don't know,' she whispered. 'I can't either. Not since you were hurt.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, and Ginny knew that they both understood what she and Harry were talking about. She hoped Harry had missed their expressions. At the time, she'd thought telling Ron and Hermione was the best possible move. Now, though, she had to wonder what would happen when Harry found out that she'd told. Hadn't they agreed not to tell anyone? Would Harry understand if she explained that he was unconscious and she was terrified? Would he realize that Ginny had known Harry was hurt and she would eventually have to explain to someone the real reason why she'd known? Or would he be furious with her? Would he push her away like he always did?

Harry's jaw clenched. 'It'll change,' he said, and she recognized the panic in his voice because it matched her own. 'It has to.'

Ron cleared his throat. 'We should probably go tell Mum that you're awake,' he said. 'And Lupin. They'll want to come by.'

Harry nodded. 'Can you try to stall, though?' he asked.

Ron looked from Harry to Ginny. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I'll try.'

Ginny watched Ron and Hermione leave. Harry sat up again, and she didn't try to have him lay back down. 'C'mere,' he said, shifting in his bed to make room for her.

She climbed into bed next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. 'Does it hurt?' she asked.

'Not that much,' he said. 'That potion helped.' She sniffed. 'What is it?' he asked.

'It's nothing,' she said, but it wasn't nothing. It was something. 'I just … you were bleeding so badly. Hermione was crying and … and Charlie said you'd … I thought you were going to …'

She let her voice die out. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, especially not in front of Harry.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, and held her tightly in his arms as she let herself cry.

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'All right,' said Bill. Charlie's head snapped up. 'What the hell is wrong with you?'

He and Charlie had both been home at The Burrow for the better part of two days, and Charlie had spent every second of those two days sulking. Whatever was the matter with him, it was starting to get on Bill's last nerve.

Charlie looked away. 'She said she hated me,' he said.

'Who?'

'Ginny. The other night, when Harry was hurt and I wouldn't let her go after him. She told me she hated me.'

'She was worried about Harry,' Bill told his brother. 'She doesn't hate you.'

'You didn't hear her. The way she said it. She hates me.'

'She doesn't. She couldn't.'

'Then why would she say it?'

'Oh, like you've never said anything you didn't really mean?' asked Bill. 'Listen here, little brother. If I had a Knut for every time you said you hated me when we were kids, I would be a rich, rich wizard today.'

'We were kids,' Charlie argued. 'Ginny's sixteen.' Merlin, Bill was just trying to be a good brother and cheer him up. But Charlie was really making it hard on him.

There was an awkward silence. Bill knew that Ginny didn't hate Charlie. In fact, he was positive that Charlie knew this as well. There was something else bothering him. Something Charlie wasn't saying. Part of him wanted to be a good brother and listen. Another part of him wanted to leave, because Charlie was acting like a poof.

'Did you know they're sleeping together?'

'Who?' asked Bill. Conversations with Charlie seemed to jump all over the place.

'Harry and Ginny.'

Bill's eyes widened. 'How do you know? You didn't – ew, you didn't walk in on them, did you?'

'Merlin, no,' said Charlie. 'I just know that they are. Haven't you seen them together? They must be.'

Bill shrugged. He wasn't sure that Charlie was right. But either way, what did it matter?

'So? What do you want from me?'

It wasn't that Bill didn't care, because he did. He cared about the important things – like whether or not Ginny and Harry were being smart and safe. But ultimately, it wasn't his place to pry. Despite what Charlie obviously thought, Bill knew that Ginny was old enough to make her own decisions.

'What I want is for you to care just a little bit that our baby sister – who's only sixteen – is already sleeping with her boyfriend!' snapped Charlie. 'This is Harry's fault. I know it is.'

Bill laughed outright. 'Harry? Now I know you've lost it.'

'I wouldn't put it past him.'

'I would,' said Bill. 'Ginny is no angel. She never has been. She's always taken after the twins. And anyway, I seem to remember you being quite popular with the girls at sixteen. You mean to tell me that when you were her age you hadn't ever –?'

'It's different!'

'Why? Because she's a girl? You didn't do it alone, you know. Or maybe you did …'

'It's different,' said Charlie, 'because Harry is not going to be around when this is all over! Ginny – she's going to die without him. As much as I hate to admit it, they aren't exaggerating or putting on a show when they're around the rest of us. Hell, when they're together, they don't even realize the rest of us are there. They're in love. And Ginny's going to be crushed in the end.'

Bill frowned. Since when was Charlie so pessimistic about this war? Couldn't he put on a brave face and tell himself that everything was going to be all right? That was what Bill was doing. That was what they all were doing. Because the fact that Harry was just a boy going up against one of the most powerful wizards in history was something they were all in denial about. Bill would never say it aloud. He barely allowed himself to think it. And it had worked so far.

'Ever heard that it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?' he asked.

'Whoever said that obviously wasn't referring to his little sister,' Charlie muttered, and then walked away.

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The next two days progressed slowly for Harry. He didn't fancy being stuck in the Hospital Wing for two weeks, and had already gotten Audrey to agree to release him after just one, promising that he would relax and take it easy at The Burrow. If it was up to him, he would get up out of his bed that very moment. Really, though, he knew that Mrs Weasley would never let him. And he would force himself to obey her, because he'd put her through enough lately.

He'd never tell them, but he'd heard practically everything Ron and Hermione had been arguing about. It was probably their shouting that finally woke him up, actually.

He'd heard Hermione insist that she and Ron continue to look for Horcruxes without Harry. And he'd heard Ron explain to her that they needed Harry, because Harry was the war and because Harry was the only one who didn't get to choose whether or not he fought.

Strangely enough, the part that had bothered Harry the most wasn't what Ron had said, but what Hermione had said. He knew that his friends would never desert him. But the thought that Hermione hadn't wanted to wait for Harry to recover … it was hard to handle. Ron and Hermione were already independent from Harry in so many ways. Growing up, they had always been the trio. But now, Ron and Hermione were a couple. That meant that Harry had to give them space and alone time. He didn't mind that so much, because it meant he got to spend time with Ginny without having to feel like he was ditching them.

It was different, though, because Harry had finally just begun to accept that his friends would be with him every step of the way, as opposed to him doing this by himself, and suddenly they were jumping ship and trying to do everything without him. Since when was Harry an expendable part of the war? He wasn't. He was one of the most important players in this war. Ron and Hermione were the expendable ones. He didn't want to play the role he did, but his hand had already been dealt and he had to see it through no matter what. Ron and Hermione didn't.

He was glad that Ron had said what he said. At least Ron had thought about it and understood that even though he and Hermione would want to fight alongside Harry for everything, they wouldn't be able to. At least Ron realized that there would come a time that Harry would have to stand on his own and face Voldemort alone. At least Ron accepted that Harry – and only Harry – was destined for this.

He felt a twinge in his scar and frowned. He'd been getting pains in his scar on and off since the night he'd sensed Voldemort. He couldn't understand why he'd felt Voldemort that night, away. His scar hadn't hurt for quite some time now. In fact, he could hardly remember the last time it had so much as throbbed.

So why now? What had made Voldemort so furious? Did he know that Harry and Ron had found the Horcrux? Was it possible?

It was obvious that Voldemort knew some of the Horcrux had been destroyed. Riddle's diary was common knowledge. It was even possible that Voldemort knew the locket had been stolen by Regulus. And Snape had known about the ring Dumbledore found … Harry was certain that Snape had run straight to Voldemort and told him.

But did Voldemort know that Harry was looking for the rest of the Horcruxes himself? Did Voldemort even know that Harry knew? Would he assume that Dumbledore had told him? Had Dumbledore told Snape, who told Voldemort?

Those were only a few of the possibilities. Perhaps it was something other than anger that Harry had felt. Was Voldemort happy? Normally, Harry could distinguish between the two. But this time, it had just been a blinding pain on Harry's part. There was no emotion tied to it.

'Is something wrong?'

Harry looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him.

'No,' he said. 'My scar hurts a bit. But I'm fine.'

Hermione frowned. 'How long has it been hurting?'

'Not long,' Harry said.

'Can you feel Voldemort?' Ron asked.

'No,' Harry said, and it was only a half-lie. Ron was asking if he could feel Voldemort through his scar. And the answer, in his opinion, was no. But he'd be lying if he said that there wasn't an occasional thought in his mind – a rush of feeling in his veins – a tingling in his fingertips – that did not come from himself.

'What is it?' questioned Hermione. 'What aren't you telling us?'

'I don't know,' Harry said. He sighed. This was Ron and Hermione. He told them everything, and he could tell them this. 'I just – sometimes, I feel like that's a –'

The words died on his tongue. He finished the sentence in his mind. Like there's a part of Voldemort inside of me.

'What is it?' Hermione asked again.

He said nothing. He couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. It was as if a force greater than any magic he knew of was controlling his body as he jumped out of his bed and ran out of the Hospital Wing. He was sure Ron and Hermione were running after him, but he couldn't possible stop to explain things now. There wasn't enough time. There would never be enough time.

His mind was racing. He needed a minute to stop and think. He needed to sort out all of his thoughts. But Hermione would never keep quiet long enough for him to actually do that. Already, behind him, he could hear her muttering to Ron that being out of bed wasn't good for his recovery.

No, he wouldn't let them catch up. Because then he'd have to explain everything to them, and he wasn't even sure he understood this himself. He needed to talk to Ginny. She would listen. She would help him sort this out. He needed to get to The Burrow right away so he could talk to her in private.

He ran up to Dumbledore's office to use the fireplace. He stopped in his tracks when he heard his former Headmaster call his name.

'I see that you are in a hurry,' Dumbledore said, 'and forgive me for delaying you, but is there anything that I may be able to assist you with?'

Harry turned to regard Dumbledore, struck with the thought that his old Headmaster, of all people, would be the best to ask about this. If anything, Dumbledore had probably considered this scenario a thousand times before. Harry could hardly believe he hadn't considered it before. But despite how many nights Harry had spent in this office with Dumbledore talking about the Horcruxes, Dumbledore had never said one word to Harry about this.

How could he not have addressed it?

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Dumbledore's best option had been to never breathe a word of his suspicions to Harry, to merely keep him close by and keep tabs on him to see what would happen. That was why Dumbledore had always asked him if his scar had been hurting, if he could sense Voldemort's emotions.

Had Dumbledore taken him under his wing, spent night after night telling him that this war had to be ended at all costs – relentlessly drilling that fact into his mind – simply because of this?

Betrayal and anger coursed through him, and he thought, fleetingly, that Dumbledore was bloody lucky he was dead, because Harry surely would not hesitate to kill him in this moment.

Ron and Hermione were there, behind Harry now, but he paid them no notice. 'I think you've already done enough, Professor,' Harry spat, and then used the fireplace to get to The Burrow before he could do something he thought he might regret much later.

Lunch was still going on at The Burrow, and all of the Weasley's (minus Ron) were seated around the kitchen table. McGonagall, Tonks and Lupin were also there. Mrs Weasley was the first to look up upon Harry's arrival, and she immediately stood and went to him. 'Harry!' she scolded. 'You're supposed to be resting!'

'I need to talk to Ginny,' he said, his voice sounding mechanical to his own ears. 'It's important.'

Over Mrs Weasley's shoulder, Harry could see that Ginny was coming over to them, her features twisted into a mask of concern. 'Harry –'

'It'll have to wait until later,' Mrs Weasley said. 'You need to get back to bed. Ron, Hermione! Didn't either of you think to stop him?'

'You know Harry, Mum,' said Ron. 'Impossible.'

'What's going on?' asked Ginny, who finally managed to sidestep her mum and face Harry. She put a hand on his cheek. 'You're shaking …'

He was? Yes, now that he looked down at his hands, he could see that they were, indeed, shaking.

'I – I have to tell you something,' he whispered.

'What is it?' she asked.

Harry looked around the room, noticing that every eye was training on him. Could he really just blurt it out in front of everyone? 'I can't say it here,' he said. 'It's about the Horcruxes.'

'Okay,' she said. 'Let's just go upstairs, then.'

'Hold up,' Charlie said. Perhaps it was Harry's frazzled demeanor, or Ron and Hermione's matching frowns of confusion and worry, or even Fred's off-colour joke about what the two would do upstairs – but whatever it was, Charlie did not seem exceptionally keen on letting the pair out of his sight. 'Everyone here is in the Order, Harry. Horcruxes are Order business. Anything you have to discuss, you can do here. With the rest of us.

If Harry wasn't so preoccupied with everything else going on in his mind, he would have hated Charlie just then. But instead, he nodded unhappily and shrugged at Ginny, letting her know that there was really nothing he could do to beat that sort of logic.

'I have a question,' Harry said to everyone, though he was really only paying attention to McGonagall now.

'That's what you left the Hospital Wing and rushed over here for?' asked Ron.

'Is there any way,' Harry asked, ignoring Ron, 'to be able to tell if an object is a Horcrux without doing the spell that destroys it?'

McGonagall frowned. 'No,' she said, after thinking for several moments. 'Not that I am aware of. Our knowledge of Horcruxes is very limited at this point. Why do you ask?'

'Because I – when you do the spell, it removes the soul, right?' he asked. 'Voldemort's soul?' Honestly, this information was nothing he hadn't already figured out for himself. And the answers were nothing more than what Hermione could have told him, had he asked. But he needed McGonagall to say it. He needed to hear it from her.

'Yes,' said McGonagall. Everyone stared at Harry as though he was losing it.

'But what about Nagini?' he asked. 'Dumbledore told me that it would be more difficult to make a Horcrux out of a living thing, because it already had a soul. So if you were to do the spell on Nagini, would both of the souls be destroyed?'

'It is certainly a possibility,' said McGonagall. 'One that I think makes the most sense.'

'Oh,' said Harry, feeling incredibly dejected. Despite the finality of his entire situation, and despite the fact that he had never been horribly optimistic in the first place, he felt his heart plummet into his shoes. 'So … the snake would still be alive, just without a soul?'

'If you can count that as living,' Lupin said, and Harry nearly flinched.

'Harry,' said Mr Weasley. 'What's this all about?'

It was strange, Harry thought, how he'd rushed over here to discuss this with Ginny, but now that he had to say it aloud, she was the last person he wanted to tell.

'It's the Horcruxes,' he said. 'I think – I think I know what the final one is. I don't – it's not Nagini.'

'What is it?' asked Tonks.

Harry took a steadying breath, looking anywhere but at Ginny.

'It's me.'

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Happy birthday to me.

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