Chapter 13 – The Darkened Hours

It was one of the cloudiest nights that Harry could remember. Barely a glimmer of the moon remained, and the black haze obscured all but a small handful of stars. He and Professor Lupin had apparated a short distance away from The Burrow, and the house itself was the only source of light. Lupin cautiously drew his wand and squinted as he perused the surrounding area. Harry was just grateful for the small mercy that the Dark Mark was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll go on ahead just to check that all's well," whispered Lupin, "Keep your wand lit, count to fifty, then follow me."

Time was when Harry would have dismissed such advice as over-cautious, but now he was quite willing to listen. He looked about him in the dull glow of his wand as Lupin headed across the field to the house, glancing this way and that for anything unusual.

Counting to fifty as he had been ordered, Harry could have probably listed a worry or problem for each number that he passed. This was no way to live.

Lupin reached the front door and hesitantly knocked. He soon heard the suspicious answer of Molly Weasley.

"Yes?"

"It's me, Lupin."

"What did you think of the pumpkin juice you had when you arrived here earlier?"

"It tasted more like elf wine to me," he replied with a small laugh.

The door opened, and Mrs Weasley gave him a warm greeting that was suddenly interrupted by Ginny pushing roughly past them.

"Watch out Ginny! What's got into you?" enquired her startled mother.

"Where's Harry? What's happened to him!" she demanded.

"Oh, I told him to hang back to see if the coast was clear," said Lupin, pointing just beyond the end of the garden, "He's just – "

But Ginny wasn't waiting for him to finish. She was already running as fast as she could across the grass, clad in black jeans and a loose t-shirt that she had last worn underneath her Quidditch robes when Gryffindor had won the house cup earlier that year. Her hair was billowing out behind her as she raced towards the wand light that was slowly becoming more visible.

"HARRY!" she cried, nearly knocking him clean off his feet as she hurled all four of her limbs around him and covered his face with kisses.

As she slowly relinquished her grip, she stooped to pick up his wand that had fallen to the ground and apologetically handed it back to him.

"Oh Harry, I was so worried!" she said as they walked back to the house, "Just sitting and waiting for you for so long. I was…Oh my…!"

In the improving light, Ginny could see the huge blood stains across Harry's front.

"Bloody hell!" she exclaimed, "Harry, are you hurt? What happened? Oh, I should never have…"

"Ginny, calm down!" he smiled, "It's not my blood."

Luckily for both of them, Mrs Weasley was deep in conversation with Lupin and Tonks as they walked through the kitchen, and Ginny hurried him upstairs to her room, which she now shared with Hermione. As they entered, her roommate and brother were engaged in what Harry could have only mistaken for a deeply intimate dental examination.

"Hem, hem…" Ginny coughed, in her now perfected impersonation of Professor Umbridge, "If you two have quite finished…?"

Hermione and Ron suddenly sat up, both sporting embarrassed grins. It was only as they noticed the blood on Harry that their faces fell just as Ginny's had. And so, as Ginny lay on the bed with her head resting in his lap, Harry related to them the events that had taken place back at the school, skating delicately around any mention of Ginny's prophecy. Ron's lower jaw was about ready to hit the ground by the time he'd finished, and Hermione was looking equally mystified.

"So…" Hermione began, "They still don't know if he was released or escaped?"

"Well, personally I don't think they would have let him go, not in his state," said Harry, "He may have been tortured and had his mind damaged, but I think he still wanted to give me information that I would have found useful. I don't think Vol…You-Know-Who would've just let that happen."

"What about the, err, things you have to look for?" asked Ron nervously.

Ginny then lifted her head and looked from one to another with questioning eyes.

"Am I missing something here?" she enquired.

Harry smiled kindly at her and turned to the other two.

"I believe it's time that Ginny was told everything," he said solemnly.

And then, he did just that. With occasional prompting and elaboration from Ron and Hermione, Harry unfolded every detail of his life to her that had brought him to this place and time. The circumstances surrounding his parents' death, how he had first been brought to Hogwarts, and how Dumbledore had given him a little more insight on the path he was taking at the end of each school year. He went through every particular he knew of Voldemort's resurrection, and Ginny clung tightly to him as he told her again of his fate.

After a short rummage in his jacket pockets, Harry retrieved the locket that he and Dumbledore believed to be one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. There had been a note inside it from an individual identifying himself simply as 'R.A.B', telling that the real Horcrux had already been removed, and hopefully destroyed by the time the note had been read. Harry had sworn to keep the locket with him always, as a reminder of the sacrifice it took to retrieve it.

As Harry came to the end of his tale, he himself found it hard enough to believe that this was how his life had turned out. For the briefest of moments, he wondered again what things would have been like if Voldemort had long since been destroyed, his parents had lived, and Ginny had been a girl who lived next door to him. It was time to realise that this was his lot in life.

A contemplative silence followed, broken by the hushed tone of the girl whose arms were locked around Harry's shoulders.

"So how will you find these…Horcruxes?"

Harry shook his head and stared down at the floor.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he muttered, "They could be anywhere. All I can assume is that I'll find the snake when I find Voldemort".

Even after all these years, Ron still twitched uncomfortably at the mention of the name.

"And how am I to know how to destroy them when I find them?" Harry continued, "Hufflepuff's cup, something of Ravenclaw's, something of Gryffindor's, and even that is just going on the guesswork of Dumbledore".

All eyes slowly turned to Hermione. She had stayed quiet for remarkably long, and the other three all expected her to be bursting with ideas. She gave them all a look that said "What? I'm thinking!". After a hesitant pause, she spoke.

"Maybe…" she stammered, "Maybe he told his followers where the objects were hidden. After all, he couldn't be resurrected if no one else knew. And maybe you should talk to the four Heads of Houses to see if there is any way of keeping track of magical objects like that."

Harry gave a sceptical snort, even though he knew that she had at least made one good point.

"His followers? Hermione, they want me dead! Am I supposed to track one of them down then ask them if they could tell me the whereabouts of their master's most precious possessions while I'm dodging their curses?"

This was not a time to scowl over something like this, and Hermione had grown used to such replies from Harry and Ron.

"Actually," she said with a superior air, "I was thinking that perhaps you could make the Ministry work for you."

All three of them stared at her now. Harry was wondering how the ministry could work for anyone in times like these. Besides, he had already expressed his contempt for them to the Minister himself, so it was a safe bet that they wouldn't be wanting to do him any favours in the foreseeable future. What he needed was the advice of Dumbledore. But Dumbledore was dead. His expression was gathering gloom with each passing second that he thought about it.

"You look exhausted mate," put in Ron sympathetically, "I'm thinking we should all get some rest."

This notion was met with unanimous agreement. As Ron was kissing Hermione goodnight, Harry looked with deep concentration at Ginny and ran a finger slowly down the side of her face. She returned his look, pleasantly bewildered.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, "I just want to have a nice memory when I close my eyes."