School's out!! Finally! I'm still worried about how much my chemistry final affected my grade, but at least there's nothing I can do about it… So I'm writing a chapter to celebrate. Yay for me.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter world. I am not JK Rowling. Deductive reasoning says that I, therefore, do not own the Harry Potter world.

Chapter 45

The Horcruxes

"We've got to do something!"

Harry practically screamed in frustration. He was pacing furiously up and down the kitchen of the Burrow, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses, and trying to think of something other than the one thought that had been running through his mind since he had regained consciousness that afternoon.

They took Ginny.

Sirius sat at the table, running a hand through his hair. "Calm down, Harry. We've done everything we can."

"But it's not enough," he said despairingly. He leaned his forehead against the wall, trying to calm his quaking nerves and soothe the adrenaline rushing through his limbs. Being wired and jumpy isn't going to help her, he reprimanded himself firmly.

"Remus has gone to get her parents, and I've sent out an owl for a meeting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow isn't soon enough," Harry snapped.

"Be reasonable," Sirius admonished. "You know how hard it is to call meetings even three days in advance. Someone can't make it and wants it rescheduled, or something happens to put it off…."

"The Order won't do anything," Harry said darkly. "They'll just fight and argue over what should be done."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Sirius shouted angrily, finally losing his temper. "Remus and I have tried for months to fix the problems with the Order, but it's crumbling faster than we can patch it up! It's falling apart at the seams! Do you think I want Ginny to die any more than you do?"

Harry was silent, glaring darkly at nothing in particular. Then an idea occurred to him.

"Malfoy," he said. "I need to talk to Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy had won the trust of the Order in general, but he was still on the run from Voldemort. He had nowhere to go, and consequentially, he stayed. Nobody had objected when he had adopted a bedroom in Grimauld Place, and he had been there ever since, rarely emerging and even more rarely speaking to anyone.

Before Sirius could argue, Harry Disapparated and found himself standing on the street outside of Number 12, Grimauld Place, London. Taking the porch steps two at a time, he strode inside and up two flights of stairs, to a door at the end of the hall. He pounded on it. "Malfoy!"

The door opened, and a rather irritated-looking, pale face appeared. "Calm down, Potter, before you wet yourself. What do you want?"

"Where does Voldemort stay?" he demanded. "Where does he keep his prisoners?"

Malfoy laughed incredulously. "Are you kidding, Potter? You actually think he would have told me something like that?" He turned around and crossed to a desk in the corner unconcernedly. "I'm flattered, though, that you would think me powerful enough to be so high in his ranks."

"It wasn't a compliment," Harry snarled, following him into the room. "Tell me."

Malfoy examined his fingernails in silence for a moment, and then he looked up. "Do you think," he said softly, "that the Dark Lord is so stupid as to make his location known to all of his Death Eaters? Not all of them are trustworthy." He spread his arms. "A prime example, right before your eyes."

"You… you don't know."

"That's what I just told you."

Harry slammed his fist into the wall, overcome by grief and rage and anguish. He couldn't think clearly. Malfoy was asking what had happened, but he didn't listen. Sobs shook his body, and try as he might to stop them, the tears came.

He didn't know how long he stood there, facing the wall, trying to overcome his emotions, but it felt like an eternity. Malfoy had desisted in his inquiries, and Harry was left alone to think. Not that he could think, at least not without a thick white fog encompassing his mind every time he thought with despair of Ginny.

"Hey, Potter."

Malfoy's voice was distant and muffled, as though speaking from behind a wall, but it was enough to pull Harry from his reverie. He turned slowly to face him.

Malfoy held up his arm, on which stood a coal black owl. Harry started; he'd never seen a black owl like this. His companion looked grim.

"It's addressed to you," he said dryly.

"Why do you look so miserable?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Just that the only times I've seen black owls, they were addressed to my father, and whenever he got one, he'd leave the manor and not come back until late at night, and there was always something in the papers the next day about an attack on Muggles."

Whatever color was left in Harry's face drained out of it. He hesitantly accepted the owl from Malfoy's forearm and untied the scroll that was attached to its leg. "You… you think it's from Voldemort?" he asked hoarsely, gazing apprehensively at the parchment in his hand.

The owl took off, and with a screech like a bad omen, soared through the open window and out into the twilight.

"No way to tell but to open it," Malfoy remarked, though he looked rather shaky, and he backed away as Harry broke the seal.

Without a warning, the parchment burst into vivid green flames. Harry withdrew his hand with a sharp intake of breath, letting go of the burning parchment, but it did not fall to the ground. Instead, it hovered at about chest height in the air, looking like something unworldly in the semi-darkness of dusk. Harry backed away slowly.

"What is it?" Malfoy whispered fearfully.

As if in answer, the flames suddenly exploded into a ball of eerie green light. Harry threw up a hand to shield his eyes, and he was momentarily blinded. When he blinked away the pain of the sudden flash, he found himself face to face with the gray shadow. His breath caught in his throat.

The shadow was of a tall man, with slits for nostrils and cat-like eyes. He had ghastly long fingers and, even though the rest of his body was a colorless shadow, he had vivid, burning, piercing red eyes.

Hello, Harry, the shadow said, smiling coldly.

Harry looked wildly around. The voice did not enter his ears, but penetrated the very recesses of his mind. He could only watch with an awed, terrified sort of feeling as the figure addressed him.

I find myself in possession of something of great value to you.

"Ginny," Harry whispered.

I've also come to the knowledge that you have obtained several things that belong to me.

It seemed as though he had just been drenched in a bucket of ice water. He staggered back, a leaden feeling sinking into his stomach. He knows about the Horcruxes.

Indeed, my young friend, the shadow answered, reading his mind. However, I am willing to make a trade. Six small items in exchange for Miss Weasley.

Harry could only shake his head dumbly.

If you decide she is more valuable to you than they, bring them to the place where this all began. I expect you tonight, Master Potter.

The shadow began to crumble like ashes, falling to the floor in a heap. In a moment, there was nothing left save for a small pile of black cinders on the floor.

Harry couldn't breathe. His mind was racing, flailing, drowning in a confused frenzy of grief and hatred and, predominantly, fear.

Ginny or the Horcruxes…

His rational mind had suddenly gone insane. A thick fog was shrouding his senses, and he stumbled towards the door without a word to Malfoy, who looked petrified, frozen to the wall.

Ginny or the Horcruxes…

The tears blinded him as he stumbled down the stairs and towards the door. Someone called his name, but he paid no heed. Mrs. Black's shrieks followed him out the front door, but he hardly heard them.

He had no doubt as to what "the place where this all began" was. He didn't know what it looked like, but he knew where to look. The Burrow was empty when he got there; he didn't care where everyone had gone. He dashed upstairs and yanked a leather-bound photo album out from under his bed. Flipping frantically through the pages, he finally landed on the one he wanted.

It wouldn't look the same anymore, but it was still the same place. With a final sob of agony, he Disapparated.

Ginny or the Horcruxes…