CHAPTER EIGHT

"Where are we?" asked Ron as the three of them walked stiffly through the dark front hall of the old house Harry had brought them to.

"My house." Said Harry, flicking a switch on the wall and bringing light to the dark hallway. It was still rather gloomy, but at least now they could see clearly.

"Your house?" said Hermione, glancing around the room confusedly.

"Well, where did you think I'd been staying, in a cave?" asked Harry, removing his cloak and hanging it on a nearby hook. Actually, she had expected something of the sort. "We obviously couldn't have resumed our old station, could we? What with Snape knowing the location and all – would've been way too obvious. So we came here."

"Where exactly is here?" asked Ron, running his hand along the wall.

"My grandparents' old house. It's been condemned for years, but we opened it back up and it is now the new official residence of the Order of the Phoenix." Said Harry in a much rehearsed fashion.

"But Harry, if anyone could just Apparate inside-"

"Don't you think we thought of that?" he interrupted Hermione. "Apparition in the only way you can get in now, and Moody made it so only people I want to get in can." He finished, proceeding into another dark room and flicking switches here and there. The house appeared to be quite large, and reminded Hermione and Ron somewhat of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, but with a friendlier and more welcoming atmosphere.

"I'm starting to understand how Sirius must've felt." They heard him call from the other room. The two followed his voice and found him brewing tea in a large dine-in kitchen with an elegant light fixture hanging from the high ceiling.

"How do you mean?" asked Hermione, looking around in awe.

"I never get to go anywhere or do anything if I'm not on a mission. Too dangerous, you see…" Ron and Hermione sat down stiffly at the large kitchen table, their aching joints and muscles causing them to move as if they were much older than seventeen. They had just successfully retrieved and destroyed the second of the four remaining horcruxes.

"Tea?" said Harry, taking the now whistling kettle off the stove. The two of them nodded feebly, but Harry moved around almost energetically, obviously grateful to have new visitors.

Hermione looked at her watch and yawned. It was quite late. She stretched as Harry handed over her tea. She suddenly felt very grown up, sitting around at a kitchen table drinking tea in the middle of the night with her two best friends.

"What's our next move, Harry?" asked Ron groggily, sipping his tea.

"Well, first I have to get that locket – I'm pretty sure I can get that on my own, no worries – then the snake, but that'll be with…"

"With Voldemort?" asked Hermione. She had gotten quite good at saying the name with no physical affects.

"Well…yeah. So…so we'll be able to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak." Harry replied, trying to pass it off as a joke. But nothing had ever been more serious.

"We'll stay with you through all of it." Said Ron, suddenly awake and aware. He too had hardly flinched at the name.

"No, go home first. I'll call you back when I need you. There's really no need for you to stay here if all I'm going to be doing is research and training."

"But we miss you, mate. We won't mind."

"I know, but I'd mind. You have the time to be with your family. Go do that."

Hermione nodded, thinking of her mother and father. She thought briefly of what would happen if she just packed up and went home tomorrow. She knew she couldn't, not so far into the war. People were still dying all over. She was helping good get closer to victory. Leaving was no longer an option at this point.

She came back to reality as Ron and Harry struck up a fresh conversation about Quidditch. It was almost like old times.

"This is all very interesting." Said Hermione with another great yawn. "But I'm going to sleep. Where can I find a couch?"

"Don't be silly. There's something like six guest rooms here. Just go upstairs and pick a room. Really." Said Harry. She nodded and got up, giving them both good-night kisses on the cheek and heading up the stairs. When she was out of sight they continued conversation.

"So, er, are you two still together then?" asked Harry, staring into his teacup. He missed Ginny so much…

"Yeah." Said Ron, turning a light shade of red and letting a giddy expression take over his face. Harry smiled at him, or more in his direction really, for he was no longer really paying attention. He was mentally back at the Burrow in Ginny's bed, cuddling with her, breathing in her scent, listening to her heartbeat…

Harry reminisced about this often, and sometimes it was enough to make him consider dropping this stupid war – to let someone else fight it. But he would soon return to reality and tell himself, once again, that he knew he couldn't do that.

Ron apparently took notice that Harry was deep in thought and let out a great yawn. Whether it was a real yawn or not, Harry couldn't tell.

"I'm off to bed, mate." He said, clapping Harry on the shoulder and climbing the stairs.

Harry sat at the kitchen table thinking about Ginny for so long that he fell asleep with his head on the table and his glasses askew.