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Chapter Four
The Dark and Winding Path
"He caught up with his cohorts at the River Rubicon, which was the boundary of his province, where he paused for a while, thinking over the magnitude of what he was planning, then, turning to his closer companions, he said: 'Even now we can still turn back. But once we have crossed that little bridge, everything must be decided by arms.'
"Then said Caesar: 'Let us go where the gods have shown us the way and where the in- justice of our enemies calls us. The die is cast.'"
—Suetonius, "The Lives of the Caesars"
"The prophecy does not mean you have to do anything," Albus Dumbledore told him firmly. "But it caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal. In other words, you are free to turn your back on the prophecy. But Voldemort continues to set store by it. He will continue to hunt you. That makes it certain, really, that"—
—"That one of us is going to end up killing the other, yes," Harry said quietly.
"Inevitably," Dumbledore agreed. "You ask how you can successfully destroy Voldemort with all his skill and all his weapons? I tell you now that your best chance if you decide the terms of your confrontation. You cannot do so if you run all your life."
Harry stood and turned away, considering all that had been said. "So take action?" he asked. "Stop hiding behind others' protection?"
Dumbledore was silent for a few minutes, and Harry turned back around to face him, just as he slowly and solemnly nodded. "The time for that has passed," he said, surprising Harry. "One day, not so far in the future, you must hunt the hunter. Voldemort fears that moment. Do this, and you will be the one facing him with determination, and Voldemort with dread. It may make all the difference to the outcome. That is why I have told you about the Horcruxes, and no one else." As he spoke, Dumbledore's earlier exhaustion suddenly transformed into an intense, determined demeanour that Harry had rarely seen in the headmaster, that he hadn't seen truly seen since Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort in the Atrium of the Ministry. "To hunt the Horcruxes is to hunt Voldemort. It will, one day, be your task to destroy him a piece at a time. I will assist you for as long as I am able, but ultimately the destruction of Voldemort will be down to you."
"And the Order isn't to know about this?" asked Harry. "Or anyone else?"
"I have allowed you to tell Mr Weasley and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "and in time, who you confide in may be at your own discretion. But for now, I ask that you tell no one else. It is vital, Harry, that you understand the importance of keeping the most dangerous secrets within confined circles. The Order will have their own role to play, but in matters as crucial as this, they are too exposed, too easily watched. For Voldemort to learn that you or I know about the Horcruxes would be disastrous. It would only take one betrayal, one captured person breaking either to torture or to Legilimency, one person spotted in the wrong place, one word in the wrong place. You cannot risk it. Even if you lose the trust of those you care about, you cannot risk it."
Harry swallowed. The enormity of his task now seemed impossibly greater, but in the end he could do nothing except embrace his fate, and tell Dumbledore, "I understand."
There were only four days between Bill's wedding and Harry's birthday; during that time, the atmosphere at Grimmauld Place and at the Burrow grew quieter, but it was impossible to enjoy it. Two months earlier, the Horcrux hunt had seemed both close and distant, ages away; now it was imminent. Now the Rubicon was in sight, and Harry knew full well that if and when he crossed it, there would be no turning back. His world and his life would be very different. With the wedding out of the way, and the couple (in particular Fleur) on their honeymoon, Harry had half-expected Mad-Eye to resume his old restrictions, from when he first removed him to Grimmauld Place, but to his relief, Molly appeared to have taken Fleur's side on that matter, seemingly persuaded either out of fear of her new daughter-in-law's wrath, or from seeing Harry's increased happiness. As a result, Harry was still permitted to visit the Burrow for a few hours every day, as long as either Molly or Arthur were there, and Mad-Eye and Kingsley were briefed on it first.
As the time drew nearer, Harry became nervous about the mode of their departure, having heard little from Hermione on the matter since their brief conversation before the wedding, except that she believed she was close. However, the day before Harry's birthday, she finally made a breakthrough, and fortunately Harry happened to be visiting the Burrow at the time, playing Exploding Snap with Ron in the lounge as Ginny watched.
"Okay, a Knut on a full house," Ron declared as Hermione appeared in the room.
"Before it explodes?" asked Harry incredulously.
"There's no way that's happening," Ginny snorted. "The last blast was two minutes into the game. It's been building tension for too long. It's gonna give."
"Want to bet on it?" Ron challenged her.
"I think you just did," she countered.
Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt, but she didn't get a single syllable out before Molly entered the room herself.
"Harry, dear, I almost forgot to ask what you want for your dinner tomorrow."
"Anything would be fine with me. I'm not fussed about it," Harry said, his eyes still fixed on his cards. Ron muttered something about Harry's disinterest being unnatural.
"I know, dear, but for my sake?" asked Molly, ignoring her son.
Harry vaguely said something about chicken and potatoes, leaving Molly to return to the kitchen, forced to be satisfied with that much instruction. It was at that moment that Harry saw Hermione hovering nearby anxiously, seemingly trying to subtly draw their attention. Ron, whose back was to Hermione, was still fixed on the game.
"Right," he said determinedly. "I'm feeling very lucky."
He drew a card from his stack. No sooner had he set it down when the stack exploded, singeing his face and hair.
"I think Lady Luck's being a bit of a bitch," Ginny dryly remarked, before looking at Hermione. "What's up?"
Ron, seeing Hermione there for the first time, also looked at her questioningly. The latter glanced in the direction of the kitchen, then looked at Ginny with an almost pleading expression. The others immediately understood.
"Do what you've got to do," Ginny said in an undertone. "I'll tell her Ron went off to fix his eyebrows after that round."
"Brilliant," Ron said, as he and Harry stood to follow Harry out. Then Ron suddenly looked at Ginny sharply. "Wait, do I still have my eyebrows?"
His sister was already in the kitchen, however, and Hermione was already out the front door. Harry glanced at Ron (who was feeling his brow ridge gingerly), and then the pair of them followed her outside. Hermione said nothing to them for a few minutes, simply leading them out into the back garden and then around the perimeter near the wards, until they entered the apple orchard. Once they were a short distance within, and the house somewhat obscured from their view, Hermione stopped, and held out her hand, showing them three of the cheap aluminium rings she'd swiped from the wedding decorations.
Ron and Harry looked at the rings, then back at Hermione blankly, and Ron finally said dryly, "Er, not to be insensitive, Hermione, but we're too young to marry, normally the boy proposes, and I don't think a threesome can legally marry in England."
"Oh, shut up," Hermione snapped. "They're the finished Portkey rings. I've enchanted them so you have to specifically put them on in order to activate them."
Harry took one of the offered rings, turning it over in his fingers with interest. "Dumbledore's instructions?"
Hermione nodded. "And they are on his recommended conduits. The Ministry shouldn't be able to detect this test, and nor should the Order."
"Test?" Ron repeated. "Where are these going to take us?"
"To your room," she told him. "I've already made small tests with these, you know, transporting myself across a room, the like. I think we're ready to try out a full test, however."
She then handed a ring to Ron, and then slipped the remaining ring onto her middle finger. There was a flash of blue light, and Hermione vanished. Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry hesitantly put one of the rings on. Just as with a normal Portkey, he felt a jerk somewhere behind his naval, and his feet left the ground in a rush of wind and whirling colours. Then his feet slammed into a hard wood floor, and he staggered forward in a room full of orange Chudley Cannon posters. He only just had enough time to get his bearings before there was another flash of blue, and something heavy slammed into him, knocking him to the floor.
"OUCH! Watch it, Weasley!"
Ron only groaned, clutching his head (which he appeared to have smacked against the bedpost). Harry grunted and shoved Ron off of him, and clambered to his feet, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. Hermione was standing nearby, beaming at them.
"Good to know they work," Harry said, "but next time, could you put a couple of feet between the rings' landing points?"
Hermione, seemingly too pleased with herself to respond to this, only said, "Come on, this means we can leave any time after you get your Apparation license. It's all in hand!"
Ron, seemingly recovered enough to get to his feet as well, handed his ring back to Hermione and asked, "So where are we going first?"
"I'm thinking about it," she answered. "Somewhere safe, of course, and where the Order won't think to look. I've got a couple of ideas. Just give me a day. I'll have the rings ready by the time you two are."
Harry too handed back his ring. For a moment the three of them only stood there, staring at each other. Then Harry took a deep breath, and said in as calm a voice as he could muster, "I guess I'll start packing tonight, then."
"You'll have to get your stuff here without Mum spotting you," Ron said.
"That's easy enough," Hermione said. "I'll put an Internal Extension Charm on your rucksacks tonight. You could invite us over for dinner, and I'll take care of yours before coming back."
"What, does it make them bigger on the inside, or something?" asked Ron.
Hermione nodded. "As well as lightweight. You should be able to take everything."
Ron smirked at her. "So you can take your library, then?"
Hermione smacked his arm playfully.
"Sounds good," Harry said. "We'll have to make sure Mad-Eye's not there, of course."
"I'm not sure I want to take Pig, though," Ron said thoughtfully. "Maybe Fred and George could find him useful. Any way we can send him over to them without the Order noticing?"
Hermione nodded. "Leave that to me." She looked at Harry. "What about Hedwig? Do you want to leave her too?"
Harry shook his head. He'd considered leaving her with Ginny, but somehow the thought of parting from his owl was too much for him to bear. Hedwig had always been his closest link with the Wizarding World when he was at the Dursleys', and he didn't want to lose her companionship. "I don't know how we're going to get her over here, though," he admitted.
They were quiet, thinking about that. Then Ron suggested, "Bring her over tomorrow. Tell Mum that she needs to stretch her wings, or something. It's as good an explanation as any."
Harry nodded, and they fell silent. It was an odd moment. They seemed to have everything in hand. All that remained now was the Apparation license.
They looked so happy, Harry thought as he stared at the photograph on the first page. She was laughing ecstatically, her face full of joy, while he had wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing his hands on her swollen belly and nuzzling her neck affectionately. He knew from the date that the photo had been taken only a couple of months before his birth. The picture on the next page showed Lily Potter in St. Mungo's with her new-born infant in her arms, her expression soft, so full of love, an expression Harry had no real memory of seeing directed at him, except perhaps in Molly Weasley on the rare occasion where, while in her company, he found himself in a state of vulnerability. The thought of Molly, the closest he'd had to a mother for as long as he could remember, made what happened next even harder.
A lump lodged itself in his throat as he slowly closed the photo album and placed it inside his rucksack; he'd used the past hour to pack everything he thought he might need, his room only lit with a single candle, all while keeping a very close ear out for any footsteps in the hall outside. Even though Hermione had placed a Silencing spell on his room before leaving for the Burrow, Harry had worked as quietly as he could, not wanting to risk drawing any attention to himself. He'd also made sure when he started that Mad-Eye had gone home, and that Dobby was preoccupied with cleaning the kitchen. The fact that his rucksack had been enchanted to expand to fit any load meant that he could work more quickly; it was now merely a matter of transferring items from his truck to his bag. He'd decided to leave behind his old school uniforms and a few textbooks, and even Hedwig's cage (he knew she'd stick by him once he departed, and he himself saw no real need for it). However, his Muggle clothes, his cauldron, a few books he thought potentially useful or necessary, his potion-making kit, his Firebolt, his Broomstick Servicing Kit, and the box Dumbledore had left had all been quietly transferred to his bag; he'd also packed a shoe box in which he'd stored a stack of old letters, including Dumbledore's and Ginny's, as well as R.A.B.'s locket and note, his own notebooks, and a bunch of ball-point pens he'd taken from the Dursleys' house. Because this form of magically-enhanced packing didn't necessarily require him to keep things compact, the task was over in only about ten minutes. Moreover, there had been no interruption, and he could still vaguely hear Dobby puttering around downstairs. That, and the fact that Mad-Eye or one of the Order hadn't unexpectedly pushed their way in, indicated that he'd managed this task unnoticed.
When Harry finished looking through the photo album, and had secured it inside his rucksack, he glanced at the door and again thought of the Weasleys, the family he was leaving. He felt a guilty twinge as he thought of what their disappearance within twenty-four hours would do to Molly Weasley. That train of thought led him to wonder what he'd be eating and where he'd be sleeping tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, clear until the moment either he or Voldemort lay dead. It was his last night in comfort and relative security; it was his last night as a mere Hogwarts student. Harry sat at his desk, and thinking of the Weasleys again, he gave himself one final task before the Apparation exam: he'd give no hint of his imminent departure, but he wouldn't depart without a word. He therefore pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill and ink bottle, took a deep breath, and began to write.
He did so until well into the night, occasionally scratching out a sentence, or else crumpling up a sheet of paper and flinging it into a corner, until finally, one ink bottle and three quills later, at about two in the morning, Harry finally folded up the two letters. Perched next to him, Hedwig, who had watched him write, hopped closer and held her leg up, waiting for him to send her away. But instead, Harry placed them inside his desk drawer, and began stroking Hedwig's feathers apologetically.
"Sorry, girl," he said quietly. "I have to deliver these myself. They'll be all I leave behind."
Hedwig hooted dolefully, and Harry imagined that she understood. He then leaned back in his chair and stared out his window at the dark sky, the city lights obscuring the stars. He listened to the sounds of cars passing by outside, and the occasional barking of a dog, deep in thought. Only one more day of comfort, one more day in safety and peace. By this time tomorrow he, Ron, and Hermione would be hiding at whatever safe place Hermione chose; by this time next year, God knew where he'd be or how many Horcruxes he would have found and destroyed, let alone if he yet lived.
"This is what we're thinking of using," Grobschmied said, handing over a manila envelope.
Cerdik Gadlak opened it and pulled out a pile of photographs. For the next few seconds he looked them over, one by one, and then looked back at the other. "Your sister's old house, if I'm not mistaken."
"You're not," Grobschmied told him. "It's Rok's property now, but neither he nor his sister have lived there since they were children. It's a bit out of the way, too, separated from Aelyn Dionn by nearly half a mile of woods and fields. The rest of the village… they don't like to go there. Nobody's keen on renting it."
"So nobody's lived there for what, years?"
"Decades. Not since Cordelia and Dagolar died."
"I see." Gadlak put the photos back in the envelope and handed it back to Grobschmied. "It will need to be fixed up a bit."
"I know."
"And I'd say it could work for a couple of weeks," Gadlak continued, "maybe longer if you put in the appropriate concealment spells; but I don't imagine you'd have any more than a month before someone in the village notices anything."
"No," Grobschmied agreed. "In fact, I'd rather hoped you could provide something more permanent."
Gadlak leaned back in his chair with an impassive expression. "And what makes you think I can?"
Grobschmied snorted. "Don't play me for a fool, Cerdik. I know you can. I know about your properties at Dhárdin di Ginbaingh."
Gadlak raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? And dare I ask where you've heard those words?"
"I found out years ago," Grobschmied said lightly. As Gadlak's eyebrow went even higher, he explained grimly, "From a Koboldic goblin."
"While you were out Dark wizard hunting, you mean?" asked Gadlak.
Grobschmied merely sipped his tea.
"I assume your Koboldic friend learned about it from one of the Dhárdin regiment when they went off to fight the war," Gadlak speculated.
"Actually, that Koboldic friend turned out to be one of that regiment," Grobschmied said, solemnly, and bowing his head, he added, "although he didn't survive long afterwards. To my knowledge, he was the last of them."
"May they rest in peace," Gadlak sighed. He too took a sip of his tea, and then said slowly, "If I could get you access there, and if I could ensure that your new quarry can get there too—and I'm not saying that I can— then I'd say that the plan is perfectly doable." Seeing Grobschmied's triumphant smile, he quickly continued, "But there are number of potential problems. In the first place, this can never reach the ears of the High Council. They will not be pleased with you taking a wizard there."
"I expected that," said Grobschmied. "But these are technically your properties. Legally you can allow in whomever you like."
"That is true enough, but to use it in this way would be considered a significant political gesture to many in the High Council, and many of that 'many' might take it as an act of hostility," Gadlak warned him. "I don't know how many in the Council actually know about Dhárdin, but as it is, there's no way to pull this off without at least the Chairman knowing about it."
"Why?" asked Grobschmied, crestfallen.
Gadlak didn't answer immediately. Instead he rose from his desk and moved over to the window, his teacup and saucer in hand, looking out at the dark sky outside. Then, choosing his words carefully, he explained, "Dhárdin di Ginbaingh traditionally is supposed to be a sanctuary for goblins in times of emergency, but a complete secret in times of peace. In spite of my family's purchases there—which I add was only possible because it saved Tylwthteg from default—the High Council made sure that we also kept the land for its original purpose. As part of the agreement, currently the only way into Dhárdin is through an aperture in Danduaith Castle, or through Beacon Keys given directly by the Chairman to authorized persons. In other words, you would need his full knowledge and consent."
"So we'd have to get Dagnar Trawlak's backing?"
"I'm afraid so," Gadlak said, turning back to face Grobschmied. "And I warn you, unlike many in the Council, he has done a very thorough job of making himself as invulnerable as possible. He can't be bought, bullied, or blackmailed. The only way to get his backing is if he sympathizes enough to endorse what we're doing, or at the very least to look the other way."
Grobschmied nodded, disappointed. "I'll look for other options, then, although I would still like to keep that possibility open. Everything I've heard about Dhárdin indicates it to be a perfect place to operate from. I don't suppose you know if Trawlak would be willing to back this?"
"He's not an easy person to read. But I'll do what I can to find out without tipping him off," Gadlak said. He returned to his chair, drained his cup, and then added, "That is, if you're comfortable with involving someone as powerful and influential as him." After a moment's silence, he then asked, "How are things with our friend Mr Potter?"
"He has yet to make a significant move."
"And when you do contact him? What little I've heard of him tells me he's not the most trusting sort. How will you convince him?"
Grobschmied set his teacup down, and looked at his friend earnestly. "Honestly, I think there's only one way to approach him, and that's by telling him the truth."
This time both of Gadlak's eyebrows went up. "All of it? The whole history?"
"Everything."
Gadlak stared at Grobschmied for a full minute, amazed at the aging goblin bank employee's willingness to entrust a human teenager with that information. But then he nodded acceptingly.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. If you're going to gain his trust, you'll have to be completely open with him. But let's hope Mr Potter sees it that way."
"He'll have no choice but to listen," Grobschmied said firmly.
"True," Gadlak said wryly, "but I don't imagine he'll be too thrilled with the way you're planning to meet with him."
The door was suddenly thrown open with a loud bang, and Harry, still at the desk with his head resting in his arms, jumped and sat up, groping around for his wand.
"Happy birthday!" Ron shouted, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Oi!" Harry exclaimed, pushing Ron away. "That was the shoulder you landed on yesterday!"
Ron looked slightly sheepish. "Well, I have to be excited about something, since Dad's taking us to the Ministry in about an hour." He sat on the bed, looking apprehensive. "What if we don't pass?"
Harry had worried about this too, although he at least was confident in his own ability. "Well, one of us has to," he said. "I'm sure Hermione wouldn't want to Side-Along-Apparate us every time we have to travel."
Ron quickly pressed his fingers to his lips and glanced at the door. "Careful. Mum's here too."
Harry too looked at the door nervously. "God. I'm going to have to do better. And speaking of which…"
He pointed his wand at the pile of crumpled paper, drafts of his letters, which vanished instantly.
"Good first use of overage magic, mate," Ron said. "What were those, anyway?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly he wasn't sure he felt like telling Ron what he'd spent the night doing. Instead, he smirked and flicked his wand. Ron yelled as he suddenly found himself upside-down, dangling in mid-air by his ankles.
"OI!"
Harry laughed, and flicked his wand again. Ron landed on the bed, and sat up, massaging the back of his neck.
"I owe you one for that," he grumbled.
"No, you don't," Harry retorted. "That's payback for hitting my sore shoulder and getting too nosy."
"Right," Ron muttered. "My bad."
At that moment, Molly stuck her head in the room. "What's going on in here?" she asked, bewildered.
"Harry's making the most of being seventeen," grumbled Ron.
Molly looked between them for a moment with raised eyebrows, but then, choosing not to ask, she said to Harry, "Happy birthday. I thought we'd pop over and prepare you some breakfast before you go to your exam"—
"You didn't have to."
—"which will be ready in five minutes," she continued, taking no notice of Harry's protests. As she spoke, Hermione appeared at her shoulder, too peering into the room. "I heard yelling," she said. "Is everything all right?"
"Oh, they're fine," Molly huffed. "Honestly, it's always the same with boys. Soon as they turn seventeen, they pull some prank on each other. Thought it might just be my sons, but apparently it's a little more universal." She shook her head. "Anyway, come on down once you're ready, Harry."
He nodded, and arched his back, which ached from his less-than-comfortable position during the night. As Molly left the room, Harry turned back to Ron, and asked quietly, "Are you finished packing?"
"Hermione did the internal extension thing to my rucksack," Ron said, "but I'm not quite finished yet."
"You'd better do it quick, then, before someone guesses something's up."
"Got it." Ron glanced at the door again, and then whispered, "About tonight, who's gonna be there?"
"Some Order members," Hermione answered in an undertone.
"We can't have Mad-Eye there," Ron said. "He'll almost certainly spot us."
"He's not going to be there," Hermione assured them. "Ginny found out last night that he and Elphias have been spending the last couple of days helping Hagrid smuggle Grawp out of the country, and they're not expected back for at least another couple of days."
Harry and Ron both breathed sighs of relief. "Well, that's one less thing we have to worry about," said Ron.
"I was hoping to at least see Hagrid there, though," Harry said sadly.
Hermione nodded. "I hope he'll be all right"
"Hagrid knows what he's doing," Ron said. "He's done this before."
But he couldn't hide his worry from the others.
"I suppose it's for the best that he won't be there," Harry said after a moment. "I'd rather he found out from someone in the Order, than have us suddenly disappear under his nose. I feel bad enough as it is."
Hermione nodded. Ron checked his watch. "You coming down?"
"Hold on a minute." Harry opened his desk drawer and withdrew the two letters. He then turned to Hermione and handed her the letters. "Can you hold on to these?" he asked quietly. "I don't want anyone at the Ministry finding them on me."
Hermione turned the letters over, and saw the names on the envelopes. She then gave Harry a very sad expression. "Of course," she said, securing them in an inside pocket of her jacket.
"Go ahead and send my rucksack to Ron's room," Harry instructed. "And don't forget to grab Hedwig when you head back to the Burrow."
She nodded, and waved her wand at said item, which immediately vanished.
By the time the three of them entered the dining room a moment later, Hermione had maintained her earlier cheer, giving no indication that anything was off. Ginny and Arthur were at the table, waiting for them.
"Happy seventeenth," Ginny said. "Enjoy it while you can, since you're about to have an exam."
Harry grunted.
"Do you feel ready?" asked Arthur, concerned. "We can always delay it, if you wish."
Harry shook his head. 'No, I'm ready. Just not looking forward to walking into Scrimgeour's territory. I've got a very nasty feeling he won't ignore me. He tried to corner me at Dumbledore's funeral, you know."
Arthur nodded sympathetically. "He's been trying to persuade me to talk you into arranging a meeting. I didn't say anything, since I knew what you'd say. I don't like his policies any more than you do, but you might have to consider at least agreeing to a meeting with him so you can make your stance clear to him. Maybe you'll get him out of your hair for a while."
Harry scowled. "I don't know how much clearer I can be. I wasn't exactly civil at the funeral."
Arthur sighed, but decided not to argue his point any further. Harry's eyes briefly met Ginny's. She understood, as he did, that soon it wouldn't matter anyway, and for a moment she looked down at her plate to hide a sad expression, before she stood, looking cheerful again, and said something about needing the loo; as she moved past, though, she rubbed Harry's arm soothingly.
It wasn't long before they finished their breakfast, and once Molly cleared away their dishes, with no other reason to delay, Arthur soon led Harry and Ron out of the kitchen and to the front door, where they found Tonks and Kingsley waiting, evidently to escort them to the Ministry's visitor's entrance. Harry had walked that route before, several years earlier when he had to attend a hearing for using underage magic to expel a pair of Dementors from Little Whinging, but this time Kingsley had brought a Ministry car, rather than risk Harry and Ron walking to the Ministry with only Arthur as an escort. Harry didn't like being surrounded by Aurors every time he left the protection of the Burrow or Grimmauld Place, but as he and Ron climbed into the back seat, he was significantly cheered when he found that aside from Kingsley, only Tonks accompanied them this time; and besides, he didn't much fancy walking in the biting cold outside. Though it was mid-July, the strange, cold weather that had set in during the spring had not let up at all; in fact, it almost felt worse. Transit via magically-enhanced Ministry car also greatly shortened the trip, and before Harry really knew it, they were already at the visitor's entrance. As the phone booth descended into the Atrium of the Ministry, however, to Harry's dismay, as they approached the security wizards he caught sight of a gaggle of reporters standing by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, including Rita Skeeter.
"Damn it," he hissed.
"What are they here for?" asked Ron, bewildered.
Harry shook his head. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what. "Bloody Scrimgeour," he muttered.
Sure enough, as they approached the security desk, one of the reporters cried, "There he is!" and the cameras started flashing. Trying to ignore them, Harry drew his wand and placed it at the security desk. The guard put down his newspaper, and Harry recognized him from his first visit to the Ministry.
"Good morning, Eric," Arthur said. "My son Ron and his friend Harry are both here to take their Apparation exams."
Ron too handed Eric his wand. The guard placed Harry's on a set of scales exactly like the one Rok Grimrook had used, and confirming it to be Harry's, he did the same with Ron's, and read out, "Fourteen inches, unicorn hair, willow, in use for five years, correct?"
Ron nodded.
"You know where to take them, Arthur," Eric said, before returning to his newspaper.
Arthur thanked him and then steered Harry and Ron through the golden gates at the end of the atrium, towards one of the lifts. Harry half-expected the reporters to follow them, but thankfully they remained by the Fountain of Magical Brethren; the last thing he wanted was for the Daily Prophet and other publications to chronicle his Apparation examination. As Arthur, Tonks, Ron, and Harry entered the lift, Kingsley entered another, pausing only to tell them that the car would be waiting outside the visitor's entrance when they got back. Arthur shut the golden grille as several memos zoomed in as well, and the lift descended, much more roughly than the one at Gringotts, Harry noted, but he grasped the handles hanging from the ceiling tightly and kept his balance. After a few minutes, in which Ministry wizards entered in and out at various stops, Arthur finally let go of his handle.
"Level Six, Department of Magical Transport," a disembodied woman's voice announced, "incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center."
"This way," Arthur told them, throwing open the grille and leading them down a short corridor. He then took the third wooden door, and led them into an office with a polished desk next to a large door, where a bored-looking witch sat, also reading a newspaper.
"Good morning, Cecily," Arthur greeted, and she put her newspaper down. She glanced at Harry and Ron, and then looked at a sheet of blue parchment that lay on her desk.
"Mr Harry Potter and Mr Ronald Weasley, scheduled for their Apparation tests at ten o' clock A.M.?" she read out loud. Arthur nodded in confirmation. "You were just barely in time." She then looked at Harry and Ron, and pointed to a row of seats by the doors. "If you'll wait there, please."
No sooner had Harry sat down, however, when the doors opened and a wizened man carrying a clipboard stepped into the office.
"Mr Harry Potter?" he asked, although Harry could tell by the way he stared at him, that he hardly needed a response. As Harry stood and stepped forward, the examiner's eyes flicked to the scar on his head, but he said nothing except, "If you'll follow me, please."
Behind the set of doors lay another corridor, much larger than the first, and each door was labelled with little white slips. Harry glanced at them as they passed, and read, "Zabini, Blaise, 11:00; Longbottom, Neville, 11:30," and so on.
"Right here, please," the examiner said, leading Harry through the fourth door, behind which lay a large chamber, empty except for two towering concrete blocks. Nine or ten glowing hoops were emblazoned on the floor in a circular pattern. "Now then, Mr Potter," the examiner began, "there are three parts to this test. First, I need you to Apparate into those circles in succession, counter-clockwise, whenever you are ready. This will test your speed and endurance."
Harry nodded, and stared at the first, concentrating hard on the space within its circle. Then he turned abruptly. The compressing feeling only lasted a minute, but he still felt slightly breathless as he took his bearings. Satisfied that he'd appeared in the first circle, he Apparated again; then again, and another six times, pausing for shorter periods between each Apparation, until he finally finished in the circle he started in. The examiner said nothing except to proceed to the next stage, instructing Harry to Apparate on top of, behind, and between the two blocks, in a test of depth perception. This too went more or less smoothly, although he got the examiner's instructions mixed up, and when he stuck his head out from behind the last block, the examiner said, "Out of order, but no matter. The last part of this exam is the most difficult, but will prove your ability to travel long distances. You are to Apparate to Diagon Alley, specifically behind Quality Quidditch Supplies, where another examiner will be waiting for you. We've had the MLE office tweak the wards a bit so that you can Apparate there from this room."
"Right."
"The examiner will confirm your arrival," he continued, "and you are to bring her note back here to me. Understood?"
"When should I go?"
"Whenever you are ready."
Harry nodded, and thought back to the store where he'd first seen the Firebolt on sale. He then pivoted on the floor again, and the compression feel, which had started to get slightly better during his earlier, short Apparations, came again in full force, seeming to last longer; but when it finally ended, he staggered forward, gasping for breath, and a sudden rush of cold met his skin.
"A bit of a rough landing," someone muttered, and Harry looked up to see an elderly Ministry witch tightly wrapped in a heavy shawl seated on a chair behind a two-story building, a clipboard in her gloved hands. Harry could hear a few people in Diagon Alley doing their shopping. She stood and moved closer to Harry, scrutinizing him closely for a few minutes.
"No sign of Splinching," she remarked, making a note on her clipboard, "and you landed in exactly the right place."
She then signed the note, and handed it to Harry. "You may go back now."
Harry took the note, and again Disapparated.
"Very good!" the first examiner exclaimed as he reappeared. Harry handed him the note, and the examiner read it, and began scribbling on his clipboard, before removing the results and handing them to Harry. "You did well, Mr Potter. Well, indeed. Please take this to the front desk, and Cecily will give you your license. Congratulations, Mr Potter."
The elation Harry felt, however, could only be subdued elation. There was no putting things off now.
"How'd you do?" Arthur asked as Harry returned to the office a moment later and handed his results to the witch at the desk. He answered with a thumb's up, and waited as Cecily looked the paper over, and then deposited it onto a set of scales similar to the one with which the security wizards had examined his wand. A moment later, a small card slid out from a slit in the side of the scales, and she handed it to him.
"Congratulations, Mr Potter," she said.
At that moment, Ron came back through the doors as well. Harry looked at him questioningly, but Ron was grinning.
"Got by, then?" Harry asked.
"Yep." Ron too handed Cecily his results. Arthur proudly clapped Ron's shoulder, and once he too had his license in hand, led them back out.
The trip back to the Atrium seemed much shorter this time, and before Harry knew it, the Fountain of Magical Brethren was in full view. To his horror, the number of reporters there seemed to have doubled, and a group of MLE enforcers had also appeared, Harry suspected to aid him passing through and to provide extra security. Impossibly, his consternation increased even further as he caught sight of Rufus Scrimgeour himself from a doorway, making his way towards Harry.
"Ah, Mr Potter," he said loudly, stepping in front of them. "I hope your visit went well."
"It did," Harry said coldly. He glanced at the reporters. "You got a good turnout, I see," he added in a low voice.
Scrimgeour's smile became very fixed. "I do not control how they interpret your visit."
Harry repressed a snort, knowing this to be rubbish, but instead he remarked, "Heard you released Stan Shunpike."
"I did," Scrimgeour affirmed. "I thought you'd be pleased with that." As he spoke, he too glanced at the reporters, looking slightly nervous. Some of them were frowning, and Harry satisfied himself that they could see that this meeting was far from cordial; Rita Skeeter was scribbling notes excitedly.
Harry looked back at Scrimgeour. "It doesn't change anything. I doubt it was on my account, or you'd have done it ages ago. Too much evidence for his innocence for you to hide? But that doesn't matter. You're here to make the same request you made last Christmas and at the funeral." In a firm voice, Harry said, "The answer is still no. I will not have any part in the Ministry's dishonesty."
"It's for the greater good!" snapped Scrimgeour. Then he paled, glanced at the reporters again, and lowered his voice. "The Wizarding World needs morale. You know that."
"Yes," Harry said, "but don't think I haven't noticed the lack of attacks in the papers, and I know it's not due to the threat diminishing, whatever you might be trying to convince everyone. It's not high morale you're interested in. I don't know what you're covering up, but once it does get out, you want me to convince everyone that you're more competent than you really are. But unlike you, I will not lie to them."
Harry looked back at the reporters, and at his own words, an idea hit him.
"And I will not give them the false impression that I'm here to discuss war tactics with you," he added angrily, and without another word, he walked past Scrimgeour and pulled out his Apparation license, waving it before the reporters as he passed, and beaming at them. The cameras flashed, and Ron and Arthur kept behind him, the former waving his license too for added measure. As the MLE enforcers cleared a way through the crowd, Harry kept a close eye on Rita Skeeter in particular, but he did not look at Scrimgeour.
"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron laughed as they stepped into the phone box which returned them to the street above. "Did you see Scrimgeour's face?"
"I wasn't looking," Harry said, tucking his license back into his pocket.
"He's not going to give up, you know," Arthur said in a serious voice. "You may have made things worse."
Harry shook his head firmly. "I'm not a mascot," he declared. "I won't be used in that way."
Arthur said nothing; there was nothing more to say on the matter. When they surfaced in London, just as Kingsley had promised, Tonks had returned with the Ministry car, and half an hour later, they traipsed back into Grimmauld Place.
"I take it you passed, then," Molly remarked as they filed into the kitchen. As Ron showed off his license, she beamed and said, "Well done. I've got some lunch prepared, and once that's done we can head over to the Burrow."
She pointed at the kitchen table, where Ginny and (to his surprise) Percy were already eating sandwiches. Harry lowered himself into the chair next to Ginny, who placed her sandwich down as she caught sight of his disgruntled expression.
"What's up?" she asked. "You look like Christmas was cancelled."
"Didn't you pass?' asked Molly, her face falling.
"He passed," Ron chortled. "He just had a run-in with Scrimgeour. It didn't go well. For Scrimgeour, that is."
With that, he regaled them with the story. As he spoke, Harry apprehensively looked at Percy. Over the past few days, it appeared that the wayward Weasley brother's reconciliation with his parents had gone well, since Arthur and even the twins had completely accepted him back into the family—Molly, of course, was overjoyed—although Ron and Ginny initially had been somewhat cold towards him. Harry, however, wasn't completely certain where Percy still stood concerning the Ministry, the thing that had split the family in the first place. And indeed, Percy didn't look as amused as Ron and Ginny.
"You do realize," he said to Harry, "how severe the repercussions could be, if you keep brushing him off, like this?" In spite of his words, however, Harry could have sworn he was hiding a small smile himself.
"Didn't think about it," Harry answered coolly. "And I don't really care either."
Percy nodded and returned to his sandwich. His slight smile, in addition to his not reprimanding Harry further, was not lost on Ginny, who had watched the exchange incredulously. "Do you actually approve of what Harry did?"
Percy looked up at her, and the subtle smile vanished. He then looked back at his sandwich, avoiding their eyes. "I owe all of you an apology, but especially you, Harry. I don't expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me. I insulted you horribly, and condoned Fudge's abuses. But I want you to know that if I could take back everything, I would."
"What made you change your mind?" asked Harry, amazed.
Percy's face contorted into disgust. "Umbridge," he said. "When I learned more about her actions at Hogwarts, especially towards the students, I tried to kid myself into believing Fudge didn't know about it. But lately I've seen unquestionable evidence not only that he knew, but approved of her actions and sometimes even suggested them." Looking between the three of them pleadingly, he said, "I swear I didn't know what she was doing to you. I didn't know about the Blood Quill, or the searches, or the interrogations"—
"What the hell did you think 'High Inquisitor' meant?" snapped Ginny.
"I won't attempt to justify myself," he said, "but I promise you I had no idea just what it entailed. She worked hard to cover up what she was doing, and Fudge didn't exactly tell everyone in his administration about it. It wasn't until she was fired and the rumours started coming out that I heard anything about it, and it was months still before I learned the full truth."
He looked between them, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Ron and Ginny still looked angry, but Harry leaned forward, looking at Percy searchingly. "All right," he said after a minute.
Percy looked at him, relieved. "You'll forgive me?"
Harry nodded. "I think you have a lot of work to do before your family fully trusts you again, but I don't think there's any point in dragging this out."
Percy nodded. "If it helps," he said, looking at Ron and Ginny, "Umbridge resigned from the administration once the rumours started reaching the papers, and there's talk that she might be prosecuted for child abuse."
"Well, it would be about time," Ron muttered.
But he and Ginny had both significantly relaxed. Molly entered into the room to serve Harry and Ron their sandwiches; but the tears on her cheeks told Harry that she had heard every word of the conversation.
It was five o' clock, half an hour before her mother would begin Harry's birthday party. Ginny sat at her desk, leaning on the surface with her head in her hands. She'd known what he was planning for weeks; but now that the moment seemingly was only hours away, she felt a sudden emptiness. Neither he, nor Ron and Hermione, had been forthcoming to Ginny with the details of their plan, but she was no idiot. With his Apparation license secure, and being present as he was in the less secure confines of the Burrow, Ginny knew that there was nothing keeping him there now. She'd known that the successful exam would mean his departure, possibly within a day or so, but while Harry and Ron were at the Ministry, Ginny had also seen his rucksack stowed in a corner of Ron's room, and she knew Hedwig's presence at the Burrow was not merely about giving the owl a chance to stretch her wings. She also had carefully observed her parents and other members of the Order over the past few days, and she'd be shocked if they suspected anything. But her satisfaction at Harry's success in hiding his plan, and her own success at aiding him, could only ever be limited. She hoped, of course, to one day see Harry, and Ron, and of course Hermione return safely from whatever task Dumbledore had set them to; in her wildest dreams, they would return as heralds of victory and peace, ushering a world without Voldemort. But she was also a realist, and she knew that there was a very strong possibility of never seeing them again.
Letting them go would be the hardest decision Ginny ever made.
She then looked up, and through her window, she observed Harry slowly walking across the back garden, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. Ginny watched him for a moment, until he moved out of her line of sight, and she glanced at the box she had gift-wrapped earlier that week. Perhaps if she hurried, she might find him before dinner was announced; she therefore grabbed the box and hurried out her door, down the stairs, and, to avoid her mother's view, she tripped out the front door. Looking around the yard, she finally spotted Harry approaching the back garden. He was watching a couple of gnomes fighting over an acorn as she caught up with him, and hearing her footsteps, he looked up and saw her.
"I thought I'd get a last look around the place," he admitted. "Not sure I'll ever see it again, you know."
"I keep telling you not to think like that," Ginny said softly.
Harry smiled. "You do. I'm sorry." He then glanced towards the house. "Is it time for dinner already?"
"No." Ginny showed him the box. "I just wanted to give you this. It's probably not a good idea to open it up at dinner, though. It might raise Mum's suspicions."
Harry took the box, and looked at it curiously, before sitting on a tree stump and carefully unwrapping it. He then opened the box and withdrew what looked like a steel fountain pen, but a bit bulkier and with a pale blue, crystalline tip.
"It detects enchantments and curses," Ginny explained. "You just wave it over something. It glows bright green if it picks up a harmless enchantment, and red if there's a curse or any form of Dark magic involved. Thought it might be useful."
Harry smiled and pocketed the sensor. "Where'd you find it?"
"There's a lot of Defense stuff in Diagon Alley these days," she answered. "Mad-Eye showed these to me a few days before you got here from the Dursleys', and I had him make sure it was genuine, and not one of those fakes people sell on street corners."
Harry chuckled darkly. "Well, even if your mum might find it suspicious, I doubt Mad-Eye will; he's been trying to turn me into a paranoid git like him for weeks, so I imagine it at least has his stamp of approval. Thanks, Ginny."
"Any time," she said. She then looked towards the house. From a distance, she could see her mother in the kitchen, and she took a quick look at her watch. "We'd better get inside," she said. "Before the guests start arriving and Mum comes looking for you."
She started to move toward the house, but then Harry quietly called her back. Ginny stopped, and looked at him. Harry's eyes met hers, and then he moved closer.
"We're leaving directly after the party," he told her.
"I know," Ginny whispered.
"This will be the last moment I have with you for a long time," Harry said. "My last chance to… to say goodbye."
"Harry"—
But before she could say anything further, he pulled her into a close hug. Ginny felt tears sting her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck. She could hear Harry's quivering breath as he held onto the embrace for a full minute, before relaxing it enough to lean his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. Ginny closed hers too, but not before she saw his eyes watering too. She swallowed, her heart pounding, and felt Harry brush her lips with his, before all too soon, he released her, and stepped away.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I'll see you at dinner." Looking around, he added, "I think I'd like to stay out here for another few minutes."
Ginny nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak, and slowly walked back towards the house, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. When she reached the door, she looked back, but Harry had left the garden, and was just visible slowly meandering by the orchard.
When she returned to her room, she found Hermione looking through a rucksack similar to Harry's; as she closed the door, Hermione looked up in alarm, but relaxed when she saw who it was.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I thought it was your mum at first."
Under any other circumstances, Ginny might have found Hermione's guilty look somewhat amusing; she wore exactly the same expression that Ron, Fred or George assumed when caught. But this time she couldn't smile. Hermione, seeing Ginny's morose expression, straightened. "Are you all right?"
"No," Ginny admitted, glancing at the window.
Hermione too glanced outside. Harry was still visible, still hanging around the orchard. "He told you, then?"
"I suspected as much anyway," Ginny said. She swallowed, and looked at the rucksack. "Internal Extension Charm, I assume? How much of your stuff are you taking?"
"Almost everything, really," Hermione admitted. "I'm glad your mum just thinks I'm tidy, but really..."
She stepped to her trunk and opened it, showing to be almost completely empty except for a few assorted bits and pieces. Hermione stared into it for a second, and then closed the trunk. Ginny nodded, and then turned away to try to school her features, but Hermione wasn't fooled. She then pulled Ginny into a warm, comforting hug. But they weren't able to hold it for more than a few seconds before they heard someone coming up the stairs, and immediately they broke apart. A second later, Molly entered the room.
"Dinner's just about ready," she announced. "I've sent Ron to go find Harry. And does anyone know what that buzzing sound is?"
Hermione and Ginny both shrugged innocently. "We'll be down in a minute," the former said.
Molly nodded and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Hermione opened her trunk again, and pulled out what looked like a money-bag, which she put on Ginny's desk. She then took a scrap of paper from the desk surface, and scribbled a note, which she handed to Ginny. She then left the room without another word.
Ginny stared after Hermione, and then looked at the note and read:
Just in case you need them.
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, pg. 243 for engraving spells.
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7, pg. 176 for Protean Charm.
Stunned, Ginny immediately crossed the room to her desk, and opened up the bag. It was full of Galleons, but she knew they were not Galleons, but the D.A.'s old contact coins. Ginny inhaled sharply, and then she looked back at the door, where Hermione had just disappeared, and managed a smile. She then put the note into the money-bag, which she then stowed inside her desk drawer, out of sight.
An hour later found Harry in the front room with all the Weasleys (Bill, Charlie, and Fleur excepted), Hermione, Remus, and Tonks, having their dinner there owing to the kitchen being too small to fit all of them. There was a lot of cheer and conversation, and some music was playing. At the twins' end of the room, the activity was slightly rowdier (they had brought Firewhisky). While Harry was delighted to have them all there, however, he found it difficult to follow the conversations around him, because his rucksack upstairs, and the ring in his side pocket, which he found himself fingering but carefully avoiding slipping on. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, who looked equally distracted, although Hermione seemed to handle it better. Ginny too was quiet.
Just after dinner, Molly stepped out of the kitchen with a flustered expression, and told Harry that the cake wasn't quite ready yet.
"It's all right," Harry assured her. "We can wait."
"Of course!" called Tonks. "We can't have a party end too soon, after all!"
As she spoke, Fred and George suddenly burst into song: "Let the Healers do their art, It makes no diff'rence to my heart, A warlock always forgets his hunch When he's stuck outside with a jug of punch"—
"Fred, George!" Molly shouted. "Stop that at once! Some here are underage!"
"Oh, come on, Mum," George protested. "Ginny's seen worse at post-Quidditch match parties!"
"For that matter, she's done worse at post-Quidditch match parties," Fred added.
Harry managed a smile, and glanced at Ginny, who was giggling in spite of herself. Molly rolled her eyes, grumbling to herself, and then looked back at Harry. "It won't be ready for about half an hour at least. Sorry, Harry."
"We could start opening presents while we're waiting," Arthur suggested.
Harry nodded and assured her that this was fine, but he felt regretful. Part of him wanted to wait, to enjoy the comfort of the Burrow, but he, Ron, and Hermione had agreed to leave directly after the present opening. They now had less than an hour.
"Go on, then," George said. "Harry, start with this one."
He handed Harry a fairly large package. It was very heavy, but marked with a large WWW. Harry looked at the twins suspiciously, not even remotely trusting their innocent expressions, but nonetheless, he carefully opened the box. His caution was rewarded with a pie in the face.
"George!" Molly shouted, outraged. "Can't we have one peaceful evening?"
Harry's face was covered with cream and filling, and he couldn't see a thing, but aside from Molly's yelling he could hear everyone howling with laughter, but as he drew his wand and siphoned away the cream, he found himself laughing too. It felt good, almost like it was a normal day with an ordinary birthday party.
"I suppose I should have seen that coming," Harry said, shaking his head.
"Your real present is beneath it," Fred said, chortling.
Their present turned out to be a package of assorted Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise, particularly those related to Defense Against the Dark Arts: Decoy Detonators, Instant Darkness Powder, and a few black fedoras that Harry supposed were Shield hats styled for the Auror office. There were also an assortment of products from the Skiving Snackboxes. Harry looked up at the twins, and as he thanked them, he wondered, not for the first time, how much they knew about his plans to leave.
Once Harry set this aside, Tonks came forward and handed him a softer package. "It's from Hagrid," she explained. "He really regrets that he can't be here."
Harry said nothing, again feeling a painful twinge as he thought of the half-giant, his first real friend as well as his first contact with the Wizarding World. The package contained a grayish purple cloak made from a thick, leathery hide. Harry unfolded it and held it up, and as he did a note fell from it. Handing the cloak to Ron, Harry picked up the note and read,
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! Found this in some of my dad's old stuff a couple of months ago, but it's too small for me, so it's yours. It's made of Graphorn hide. I'm sorry I can't make it to your party. Hope it's a good one.
Hagrid
"Graphorn hide?" Remus exclaimed, amazed. "Blimey. That's quite a thing to have. It's tougher than dragon hide and can block most spells."
For his part, Harry was touched that Hagrid wanted him to have one of his father's old possessions, and wondered if he'd ever have an opportunity to thank him. He wondered where Hagrid was at that moment, if he and Grawp had successfully left the country, and if they had yet contacted whatever tribe of giants they were headed for, and he folded up the cloak and placed it on top of the twins' box, before, at Tonks's insistence, he continued on to the other presents.
Hermione gave Harry a few spellbooks and a Sneakoscope, while Ron gave him a large penknife, which he explained was almost indestructible and never needed to be sharpened. Molly and Arthur gave him an enchanted razor, and finally, Remus gave Harry a steel pocket watch, which, along with the two hands and twelve numbers, also featured a number of dials and interconnecting circles.
"It was Sirius's," Remus explained. "Your grandparents gave it to him on his seventeenth. He intended to give it to you for yours."
His hands shaking, Harry examined the watch carefully, and then, feeling his eyes water a little as he thought of Sirius, he stood and pulled Remus into an embrace. He then sank back onto the couch, and watched as Remus returned to his seat next to Tonks, who took his hand affectionately.
"Well, I should go check the cake," Molly announced, standing up. "I won't be a minute."
She left the room, but Harry slowly straightened, and glanced at Hermione as he reached into his jacket pocket and began fiddling with the ring concealed inside. This was it; this was the moment they'd agreed upon. Hermione gave him a discreet nod, and Harry stood up, pocketing Sirius's watch and Ron's knife, and picking up the twins' box.
"Let's make a bit of room," he said. "I'll take these upstairs for now."
Hermione too stood up, scooping up the Graphorn cloak, the Sneakoscope, and the spellbooks. "I'll get these."
"Cheers."
Harry glanced at Ron, who remained seated, his gaze downcast. As he passed Ginny, his eyes met hers for a split second. The hard, determined look he knew so well appeared in her countenance, and she gave him a short nod, which Harry understood to mean, "Get to it." His mouth dry, Harry returned the nod and started up the stairs with Hermione. It would be the last time he looked at Ginny Weasley for a long time.
As soon as he and Hermione made it to Ron's room, and Harry stuffed his birthday presents into his rucksack, Hermione looked at her watch.
"Ron should be up here in a few minutes," she whispered. "Whenever somebody decides to come looking for you."
"That should give me enough time," Harry said. "Have you got my letters?"
Hermione nodded and handed them to him. "Use a Silencing spell," she instructed, "so they won't hear you moving around."
"Right." Harry paused, and left the letter addressed to Molly and Arthur on Ron's dresser. He then told Hermione to wait there, and quietly left the room, casting the Silencing spell on the stairs as he crept towards Ginny's room. Her door seemed to make a deafening creak as he opened it, and he froze, listening, but there was no falter in the conversation below, and Harry relaxed and slipped inside. It was quite dark, but unlike Ron's room, rather tidy. Harry could see a poster on one wall, but it was so dark that he couldn't make out what it showed. The only light filtered in through Ginny's window, shining upon her desk. Harry laid the second letter there, and then quickly left the room. He then inhaled deeply, hoping Ginny would find it soon, and listened to the sounds of chatter below, before he regained his nerves and stole back up the stairs. When he returned to Ron's room, he found Ron already waiting there, with one strap of his rucksack slung over his shoulder. Hermione too had put on her own.
"Mum's last message is 'What's keeping you so long,'" Ron muttered with a hollow voice, his eyes on the floor.
Harry picked up his rucksack, still amazed at how light it felt, and admired Hermione's spellwork for a moment. Hedwig, who had been perched on Ron's bedpost the whole evening, fluttered onto Harry's shoulder, gripping it hard so that she wouldn't fall off him in transit. Harry winced at the sharp pressure, but then he looked at his beloved owl, glad that he'd be taking her with him, and stroked her feathers affectionately, before he reached into his pocket and withdrew his ring. He then held it out before him, looking through its circle, before raising his left finger, poised to slide it on. For the past few weeks, they'd been so busy planning their escape, that they hadn't considered the moment in which they actually would. Now that moment had come, and yet Harry hesitated, considering the magnitude of what he was about to do. Then, turning to his two companions, he whispered, "We can still turn back, you know. But once we put on these rings, there is no going back."
Hermione and Ron said nothing, but Harry could see the fear in their eyes, and the determination, as they produced their own rings from their pockets. Harry wasn't sure how long they stood there, at the threshold, but then they heard Molly Weasley's footsteps coming up the stairs, and as one, the three of them slipped on their rings. The die was cast.
Ginny knew long before her mother finally went upstairs in search of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, that she would find only empty rooms, and she knew they were gone before her mother's anguished scream rent through the air, disturbing the cheer of the still-going party in the living room. Everyone jumped at the sound, and Arthur was the first to run up the stairs to see what the matter was, Fred and George close behind. Remus quickly followed, while Percy and Tonks got to their feet, the latter drawing her wand. Ginny, however, remained in her seat, her eyes shut as she tried to keep her composure. Though she'd known about this, though she'd anticipated it and even aided them in it, the pain of their departure was still very sharp. She knew from everyone's reactions that Harry had been successful in his effort to hide it. No one had expected or suspected it, not even Fred and George, but an overwhelming feeling fell upon Giny as she realized that Harry had entrusted her with that, because he knew she would let him go.
It seemed to take ages, but after a few minutes Remus came down, followed closely by Fred and George, with an open letter in his hands. Ginny could see that it was in Harry's writing.
"What the hell's happened?" Tonks asked immediately.
"Harry's gone." Remus sounded as though he had a head cold. "Ron and Hermione too. I don't know how they got out, but their rooms are empty, and they've taken most of their things with them."
Tonks gasped.
"Someone should go to Grimmauld Place," Percy said urgently. "Check Harry's room."
"We'll do it," said George, and he and Fred ran out the front door. There was a crack as they both Disapparated.
Tonks looked back at Remus. "Where'd they go? Remus?"
But he sank into his chair, looking dazed. "We should have suspected," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. "They've obviously been planning this for a while."
He handed her the letter. Tonks read it quickly. "Bugger it all!" she shouted angrily, throwing the letter down. "That damn, stupid idiot!"
And with that, she followed Fred and George into the night and too Disapparated. Percy, stunned, reached down and took up the letter. Then, glancing at Ginny, he began to read:
Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,
By the time you read this letter, Ron, Hermione, and I will have gone. Now that I am of age, and knowing the things that I know, I have embarked on my own task against Voldemort and intend to fight him to the end. I ask you now not to go looking for me, nor should you ask the Order to do so. We are of age. This was our decision, it was not taken lightly, and we have the right to act when we think it necessary. I truly apologize for the distress that our actions have caused you, but what I am doing, what we are trying to accomplish, is my responsibility and not the Order's.
Before I leave, I should take the opportunity now to thank you for the hospitality you have given me, not only in the last few weeks, but since I first came here, after Fred, George, and Ron pulled me out of my barred window at Privet Drive. Before that, no one had ever treated me as family. You were the family I never had, and you will always be at the forefront of my thoughts and hopes. I don't know if we'll ever see each other again, but I sincerely hope that we will.
I now close in the hope that the journey ahead, and the sacrifices and actions I make, will not be in vain, and that one day the Wizarding World will be at peace again.
Harry Potter
Remus sank even further into his seat, and Ginny could see a single tear escape his eyes. Percy had gone very pale as he read the letter, and he weakly folded it and placed it on a shelf, obviously lost for words. But Ginny, unwilling to linger, stood up and made her way up the stairs. She could hear her mother sobbing in Ron's room upstairs, and her father trying to comfort her, but rather than go on up to check on them, she went to her own room. When she closed her door and turned the lights on, she started to change into her pyjamas, she caught sight of an envelope on her desk, which she didn't remember seeing before, and she picked it up. Seeing her name on the front, she inhaled sharply, and quickly opened it.
Dear Ginny,
You already know, of course, that I've gone. You've known for a while that I would. Thank you for the support you have given me for the past few weeks. I don't know when we'll see each other again, if ever, but even with the very real possibility of my never returning, not once have you held me back or begged me not to go. Maybe we'll see each other again. I hope we do.
Since I have no other opportunity, allow me to say this: a few days ago, you gave me ten minutes, which would probably make the strongest Patronus I could possibly produce, but those ten minutes were for you as well. Please take the memory with you.
I'm also sorry for the hurt I gave you at Dumbledore's funeral, but I hope you understand why I did what I did. But I realize that it may not have prevented the Death Eaters from making you a target. So please prepare yourself. I'd tell you to keep safe, but I know you won't appreciate that, so instead I want you to look after yourself, and when you come of age and join the fight, give the Death Eaters hell.
Harry
Ginny smiled. "I'll do just that, Harry," she quietly promised. She then pressed the letter to her heart, and sank onto her bed and looked out the window at the starry sky, and felt her own tears running down her cheeks, not just for Harry, but for herself as she thought of the bleak, uncertain future that lay ahead.
The clock chimed, interrupting Benedict Grobschmied's reading, and he glanced up from his book of Dagadalfic legends to see that it was nine o' clock, almost closing time. But he didn't anticipate any visitors at this time of night, and he had half an hour left, so he sipped his glass of mead, and continued reading. Ten minutes passed in silence, as he read the tale of Avaelar the Fata, before his door opened and his nephew stepped inside, followed by Menger Gadlak. Grobschmied closed the book and set it down on his desk.
"What is it?" he asked curiously.
Rok closed the door, and smiled grimly. "It's started," he said, "if slightly sooner than we anticipated. Mr Potter's finally made a move."
Grobschmied stared at him for a moment. He then drained his glass of mead, and picked up a folded sheet of paper, placed it on a stone slab in his desk drawer, and pressed it down flat, muttering an incantation in Old Nemelian: "T'argthe suargh il'ghinal Cerdinghiar Gaedlighar."
With that, he withdrew his hand. The note had vanished. He looked at the two younger goblins, and stood abruptly.
"Then we are right behind him," he told them intently. "Gather your things. We're leaving."
A/N: I've written earlier versions of this chapter before, and had to go through a few revisions. Each time it was an emotional roller coaster. This time I re-wrote the last few scenes (starting with Ginny and Harry's farewell just before the birthday party) while listening to "Rebuild, Renew" from the Fallout 4 soundtrack. That might sound odd, but the music from that song goes surprisingly well with those scenes. If I could pick songs for a "Penumbra" soundtrack, that would definitely be on the list.