Ginny was not an especially patient individual. She was a person who liked acting decisively and in the moment. It was one of the reasons she'd eventually been sorted into Gryffindor. That and the thought of how her mother would react if she'd gone with the Hat's original suggestion to get sorted into Slytherin. Maybe the Ginny of today wouldn't have bent to her fear, but the Ginny of her first year – the idiot who'd been dumb enough to trust Tom – had been convinced Mum would disown her and demanded to be sorted into Gryffindor.

But despite Ginny's aversion to caution, she understood why they weren't immediately going against Grindelwald. Professor Moody had been busy assembling a team – well, more of an army, really – to assault Nurmengard. Each member had to be meticulously vetted, which was a slow and painstaking process. After all, the element of surprise was absolutely essential. Grindelwald no doubt had the fortress surrounded with all manner of dark mages and creatures. He had spent decades turning his prison into a stronghold. They'd only have one chance and if they failed, that would be it.

Understanding why they were being cautious didn't make it any easier on her, though, especially since Professor Moody had been absolutely adamant they weren't to make any direct moves against Grindelwald without his say-so. Grindelwald had assaulted Ron and Mum's minds, had likely stood idly by as Tom possessed her, and had caused her all manner of psychological torment over the last year alone, and Ginny ached to confront him. But for now, discretion was the better part of valor.

On the bright side, Hagrid's departure had finally convinced Grindelwald to hire Mum as the new Head of Gryffindor. (Charlie had arranged for Hagrid to get a job on the dragon reserve; the gentle giant was even happier now than he'd been as gamekeeper.) Mum was acting as if she was still in Grindelwald's thrall. It was, unfortunately, a very masterful performance. Mum went on endless rants about the glory of the light and how Slytherins were all slimy evil snakes who deserved to be violently killed. What was worse, some of the Gryffindors seemed to be taking her words to heart. Mum couldn't bring herself to target Ginny directly, but she was giving her the silent treatment in public, and that hurt almost as much.

In the meantime, Ginny and her friends tried to avoid Grindelwald's notice as much as possible. Fortunately for them, he didn't seem to care about them at all. The recent overthrow of the Wizengamot by Lady Malfoy had left him scrambling to deal with the new reality. It had been announced that the Minister would appoint life peers to enable the Wizengamot to meet once more, and Grindelwald spent a majority of his time lobbying at the Ministry to make sure he controlled the new balance of power. Ginny wasn't sure how much success he was having, but she didn't concern herself with that. If it was worth worrying about, Draco would know and say something, and he hadn't.

To fill her constant need to be effective and do something, Ginny had been getting extra tutoring with Professor Moody. The ex-Auror was a brilliant teacher, even better than his imposter, since he didn't have the latent sadism of Crouch. Granted, Ginny only had Professor Lupin and Lockhart to compare him to, but Ginny was learning a great deal about how to defend herself. Professor Moody didn't look down on her because of her age or her gender. He understood her need to not be defenseless and taught her a regimen of useful jinxes and curses that would help incapacitate her enemy long enough for her to flee.

Professor Moody made it very clear, however, that he would not be able to teach her to stand against Grindelwald in one on one combat. He probably wouldn't have been able to achieve that himself, much less her. If she found herself in a fight with Grindelwald, her primary objective would be to survive long enough to get help or run away. Professor Moody, in his usual blunt manner, had informed her that the best way to survive a fight with Grindelwald was to not start one in the first place. He was a Dark Lord and that title was not for show.

In the middle of one of his lessons, they had found themselves interrupted by an incoming Floo call. Professor Moody got a grave look on his face and ordered Ginny to hide in the nearest closet. Ginny unquestioningly obeyed. She'd learned a while back that when it came to his subject, Professor Moody's advice needed to be heeded without hesitation, even though his judgment was suspect at best when it came to literally anything else.

Ginny watched through the crack in the door as Professor Moody kneeled in front of the fireplace, looking almost frightened before composing his face into a manic expression. The image of a ragged, ugly man Ginny didn't recognize, holding up some hideous baby like creature appeared in the flames.

"Ah, Barty, there you are," the creature said in a high, cold voice. "You haven't been answering my calls. I was beginning to think your loyalties had began to…waver."

"Never, my lord!" Professor Moody said eagerly. Oh, shit. This must have been Tom – uh, Voldemort, who thought he was talking to the imposter. Ginny's heart started beating heavily in her chest. Could Professor Moody pull off impersonating an insane Death Eater zealot? Ginny was worried the answer was no. Professor Moody was a lot of things, but subtle wasn't one of them. "The old coot has been blocking the Floo connections in the castle." That could actually be true, now that Ginny thought about it.

"I do not believe Potter is dead," Voldemort said, seeming to accept Professor Moody's explanation. Professor Moody could not help but give a start. Had Voldemort seen through their ruse? "The boy was prophesized to be my equal, and Lord Voldemort would never fall to such a base demise."

Oh, man, there was a prophecy about Harry now? She supposed that did explain why Voldemort decided to go after the entire Potter family, but it still was not good news. Harry was going to throw a fit. Or worse, decide he had no choice but to go after Voldemort and end up dying in a blaze of glory. No, for the sake of his safety, it was best Ginny hid it from him as long as possible. Heck, for all she knew, it could all be part of Voldemort's madness, right? The psychopathic Dark Lord was hardly a reliable source.

"You overestimate the boy, master," Professor Moody said gruffly. "I found his performance in my classes to be middling at best."

"Do not be preposterous. No one but a genius could have slain my basilisk. In any event, with Potter gone, dead or not, an alternative plan is needed for my resurrection. The Diggory boy's blood will suffice for the ritual. His father caused me no end of trouble during the war and I have no doubt he is following in his wretched footsteps. You will ensure his 'victory.'"

Professor Moody bowed his head. "Yes, my lord."

There was a long silence and then Voldemort gave a wide, distorted smile. "You are not Barty Crouch."

"My…my lord?" Professor Moody said, his eye widening in fear. "Of course I am!"

"No. You failed the test. As an expert in such rituals, Barty would have known that the Diggory boy's animosity towards me would be insufficient, and would have suggested an alternative. Perhaps Dumbledore. Or the real Moody, who is almost certainly you."

With the ruse discovered, Professor Moody stood up and delivered an impressive sneer towards Voldemort. "Evil will never win, Riddle."

"You fool," Voldemort sneered. "There is no good nor evil. Only power and those too weak to seek it." He lifted a hand and Professor Moody's hands clutched at his throat as Voldemort started strangling him through a Floo call. They clearly hadn't called him the Dark Lord just for show.

Ginny flung the door open, operating on some instinct she called towards her from the depths of her mind. A wild, crazy idea occurred to her. It was total, utter madness. There was no possible way it could possibly work. But it had to be done and was the only way she could think of to save Moody's life.

"Imperio!" she called out, pointing her wand at Professor Moody. The spell didn't take; you had to mean it. But Professor Moody thankfully took his cue and pretended to be under the curse anyway. Ginny flicked her wand randomly and Professor Moody pretended he'd been knocked unconscious.

Voldemort looked bewildered at her appearance. "A Weasley?"

Ginny took a deep breath. It was time to embrace that which she'd buried so deep within herself she barely acknowledged it to herself consciously now. "Not quite, Tom Marvolo Riddle," she hissed.

"A PARSELMOUTH WEASLEY!"

"I expected you to have already figured it out, Tom," Ginny purred in Parseltongue. It was the first time she'd consciously used Parseltongue in ages. She hadn't told anyone the possession had left her with the ability to speak the language. "I would have expected you to recognize your old self."

Voldemort stared at her, looking dumbfounded and just the slightest bit terrified. "You cannot be one of my Horcruxes. They are all secure."

"They are not as secure as you think they are, Tom," Ginny said in English. "Lucius Malfoy gave the diary to one of my vessels. It was I who ensnared her, made her open the Chamber of Secrets. And then took her over, with no one, least of all the Potter boy, being the wiser."

"Malfoy will pay dearly for his crime," Voldemort snarled. "I specifically told him the diary was to be kept secret. Yes, clearly you are the Horcrux. A Weasley never would be able to speak the noble language of snakes."

Ginny couldn't help but smirk and didn't even bother to try it. She felt absolutely exhilarated. She was playing the Dark Lord like a fiddle. After a year of being manipulated by his Horcrux, whatever that was, it was immensely satisfying to turn the tables on him. "Tell me where the other Horcruxes are and I will ensure they are protected from Dumbledork."

For a second, she worried she was laying it on a little too thick, but she was impersonating his sixteen year old self, and that was exactly the dumb epithet Tom would have come up with. "Yes, yes," he said. "You are right. They might need to be moved to a more secure location, especially the one in Hogwarts. But tell me, Tom, what happened to Barty?"

"I killed him," Ginny said blithely. "He was leering at me, I thought he had carnal intentions, and I dealt with him appropriately. It wasn't until I discovered Moody in the trunk I realized who he was, and I put the paranoid fool under my thrall."

To her relief, Voldemort accepted the explanation with no hesitation. "Very well. Muffliato!" The ugly man holding him scowled. "A spell invented by Severus to prevent people from hearing. This information is strictly confidential."

Voldemort proceeded to relay the location of the Horcruxes to her. The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff in Gringotts. The locket of Slytherin in a cave on the coast of England. The diadem of Ravenclaw in a hidden room in Hogwarts. And a ring in a shack near Little Hangleton. He was also planning on making his snake into a Horcrux, but Ginny managed to talk him into waiting until he had his full body back.

"I want you to move the diadem to Bella's vault," Voldemort ordered her. "As for the others, leave them where they are at the moment."

"How will I access her vault?" Ginny asked.

"Yes…fairly reasoned. I will ensure the goblins know to expect you, or rather 'Ginny Weasley.'" Ginny grinned twistedly. She couldn't believe her luck. Everything was falling into place! And all it had taken was embracing her inner Slytherin. Maybe she shouldn't have argued with the Hat after all.

"Don't worry," Ginny said with a reassuring smile. "I'll do everything I can to keep our Horcruxes out of Dumbledore's hands." Not a lie, strictly speaking. She definitely did not want Grindelwald getting his hands on any of it.

Voldemort gave a purr of pure contentment that assuredly was not a sound a normal human could make. "Excellent," he said with a smirk. "You will alter the portkey spell so that it will only work when Dumbledore touches it, which he will do at the official awarding ceremony. The old fool's blood will give me his strength and make me truly invincible!"

Ginny, of course, knew how to do no such thing, but she nodded anyway. "I'll make you proud of me," she said, managing just barely to prevent the bile from rising up to her throat. "I won't let you down."

"See that you don't. I can always make new Horcruxes if need be."

The Floo call came to an end. Moody stood up, a proud grin on his face. "Bloody hell, Weasley, that was the most impressive act I've ever seen. If I could, I'd induct you into the Aurors right now!"

"Thank you, sir!" Ginny said. "But I don't understand what he was talking about. What are Horcruxes?"

Professor Moody looked like he was hesitating for a very long time. "One of the most vile examples of dark magic out there. Riddle split his soul and placed the pieces into objects. While they exist, he cannot truly die." That would explain why he didn't die that Halloween night. "They're said to be almost impossible to destroy. But there are a few methods. Including, it would seem, basilisk venom. Which is good news for us, because there's some basilisk fangs in the Chamber of Secrets."

He put his hand on Ginny's shoulder. "And one more thing, Ginny. Thank you. I mean it. You saved my life."

"Happy to help, professor."

Ginny Weasley was not the only Weasley who had Slytherin attributes. All of them had them. It was in their blood. That was not to say every Weasley had almost been put into Slytherin by the hat. Many of them had been sent to Gryffindor without an instant's hesitation, their daring, nerve, and chivalry overwhelming their cunning and ambition. Molly Weasley, even before she'd become a Weasley, had also been considered for the role of Slytherin, but her Gryffindor determination to fight strongly and directly for what was right ultimately persuaded the Sorting Hat otherwise.

Over the years, Molly had done her best to crush her Slytherin traits beneath her feet. She willingly took on a supporting role and tried her best to suppress her controlling nature, to mixed results. But no one could raise seven children – or just two children like Fred and George – and come out with a dearth of cunning, and Molly was having to use every ounce of her atrophied skills in the role she had now: as the chief confidant for Gellert Grindelwald.

Not that he knew she knew his true identity. No, Grindelwald was arrogantly assuming nothing could unravel the wicked web of spells he'd woven upon her. With Harry supposedly dead (she nearly had a heart attack when she heard the news, and was profoundly relieved when Ron told her the truth), Grindelwald seemed to be focusing his efforts now on Neville Longbottom for some reason, of all people. He kept encouraging her to try to form a marriage contract between him and Ginny. She promised to brew love potions for the two of them, but was at a loss as to what to do when it became clear Neville wasn't going to be in love with Ginny. But that was a later problem.

Grindelwald may have not told her his true identity, but he had made her privy to a great many of his plans, most of which were highly illegal. He was convinced there was a prophecy centering around Harry, and perhaps Neville too, which made him the only person able to defeat the Dark Lord. She was unsure whether or not he was referring to himself or You Know Who, and thought there was a good chance Grindelwald wasn't sure either. It could have been both, for all she knew.

Molly was trying her best to assemble the evidence necessary to bring Grindelwald down in a court of law, but she knew such a gambit would only serve as a distraction at best. They'd tried the legal route and he'd utterly destroyed the entire Auror force sent to arrest him. No, Molly's main plan was to distract Grindelwald long enough so that he didn't notice Alastor assembling an army to assault Nurmengard and destroy his physical body.

In addition to focusing on Neville, Grindelwald was also focusing his efforts heavily on defeating Narcissa Malfoy. To that end, Molly had proposed she try to gain Draco's confidence and recruit him as an unwitting spy in her mother's camp. And in order to do that, Molly had convinced Grindelwald to make her the interim potions professor. Molly wasn't anywhere close to as talented a potioneer as Snape had been, but she was a far better teacher, so it more or less balanced out in the end. She had invited Draco to her office for many chats to talk about his brewing techniques in theory. In practice, they mostly involved him gushing about Harry's many positive qualities. It was James and Lily Potter all over again, really.

If there was one thing Molly wished more than anything (other than for Grindelwald to spontaneously combust, of course), it was that she could keep her children entirely out of danger. But they just kept on getting themselves into more and more danger. Ginny had discovered – in a tense conversation in which she'd tricked You Know Who himself – that You Know Who had made soul anchors, and they were absolutely determined to destroy them before Harry found out, because he'd assuredly put himself in terrible danger once he learned.

Molly had ended up having to compromise in the end. The children weren't going to destroy any of the Horcruxes outside of Hogwarts. Instead, Bill would lead a team of curse-breakers – operating strictly in an unofficial capacity – and take care of destroying the cup, the locket, and the ring. But the children, strictly supervised by both Molly and Alastor, would be the ones to take care of the diadem Horcrux. In the end, there was no other choice, since only Ginny could access the Chamber of Secrets now that Harry was in hiding. And Molly had to admit, there was a certain poetic justice to Ginny destroying a Horcrux since one of them had almost killed her.

After luring Grindelwald away from the castle by convincing him Narcissa was going to invoke an ancient Egyptian ritual using the Rosetta Stone, Molly and Alastor joined Ron, Ginny, Luna, Daphne, Draco, and Hermione in front of a tapestry of trolls dancing on the seventh floor. At least Fred and George weren't involved, but that was basically the only solace Molly had right now. These children were far too young to confront true evil, but there was no other choice.

"Please, Ginny, let us handle this for you," Molly begged. "You're just children! You shouldn't have to be exposed to this."

Alastor sighed. "As loathe as I am to admit it, it might be best if it was Ginny. Her exposure to the diary Horcrux probably helped inure her to its corrupting effect. So how do we get in here?"

"Apparently, we just think of what we need…" Luna said, and then in response to what everyone must have been thinking, a door appeared out of nowhere on the nearby wall. The group tentatively strode inside the Room of Requirement. Everyone was terrified. Molly could tell; she could read it on their faces.

Molly didn't know what she was expecting, but a room filled to the brim with all manner of detritus wasn't quite it. She had no clue how they were supposed to find something as small as Ravenclaw's diadem in all this mess. Hundreds of years of junk had accumulated in a space that was probably bigger than the Burrow, if normal space meant anything in a place as magical as Hogwarts.

"We're going to have to split up so we can cover more ground," Alastor decided. "If you see the damn thing run to a location out of sight from it and send up sparks with your wand. Don't try to engage. Don't believe a single word it tells you!"

Molly gulped and tried to summon an encouraging smile. "It's going to be fine," she promised them. "We're going to take care of this. Remember, every Horcrux we destroy gets us closer to getting rid of You Know Who once and for all."

Molly felt like she was searching the seemingly endless shelves of the Room of Requirement for hours and hours upon end. Time appeared to extend unnaturally in the Room. She wondered if it was an inherent property of the Room, an effect of the Horcrux, or just a product of her imagination. In the end, it didn't matter. No dark object was a match for Molly's will and determination to avenge her brothers. You Know Who had killed them and he had killed poor James and Lily and he had almost killed Harry, who was practically her seventh son, on too many occasions. Defeating him was vital, almost as vital as defeating Grindelwald would be.

Just when she was about to give up hope, she turned a corner and saw it, just lying on a shelf. The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. It didn't look tainted or dark or unfathomably evil. But what it lacked in looks, it more than made up for in how it made Molly feel. She felt dirty in its mere presence; she had an overwhelming need to take a shower. Perhaps it was her strong affinity towards light magic that made her feel that way or maybe it was a psychosomatic reaction. But either way, it would not rule her. She was determined to destroy it and avenge her family. The fact she'd already deviated from the plan didn't even enter her hand.

She pulled the basilisk fang from her pocket and grabbed the diadem off the shelf. The instant she touched it, she could feel You Know Who's presence trying to slither its way into her mind. It made her stomach heave. She felt almost like throwing up.

Molly Prewett, child of light, always afraid of what it would be like if you touched the darkness. You could be the greatest of the Dark Lords if you just let go…of all that held you back. You could rule from the shadows…with love potions and compulsion spells.

No! That wasn't her! Love potions were immoral to use on other people. While consenting couples often spiced up their love lives with them, using them non-consensually was nothing short of sexual assault. Molly was not like that. She was not tempted to use them, even to better her family name.

But do you not envision a greater life for your family? Surely you've noticed how disappointing they were. Fred and George, wasting their gift on frivolities and pranks. Not following the noble legacies of Fabian and Gideon. Bill, spending time with filthy sub-humans instead of good English people – how will he ever find a suitable wife now? And Charlie, let us not start on Charlie. What sort of person loves dragons more than humans?

Molly lowered her head in shame. All of these thoughts had echoed through her skull on numerous occasions. She tried her best not to give into them, to let them become their own people, but it was hard not to try to mold them into the people she wanted them to be. Every day, Molly struggled against that impulse. She struggled to be the best mother she could be – which meant sometimes admitting she was wrong.

If only they could be more like perfect Percy. Percy with his job in the Ministry. Percy who will make the family proud. Make you proud. He won't be like Arthur, slaving away in a job with no recognition, deliberately setting aside offers of more power for the sake of puttering around with Muggle frivolities…

Molly clenched her fists at a reminder of Arthur's refusal to better himself. She kept telling herself she respected him for following his passion instead of getting lost in the pursuit of power, but it was hard to believe that when faced with all the things they had to give up because of him.

And let us not forget the lowliest of your sons. Ron, who will never amount to anything in his life. Ron, who was nothing more than a sidekick to Potter. Ron, who wasn't the girl you had long sought. Ron, whom you do not love!

"That's a fucking lie!" Molly snarled, uncaring that she was now talking aloud to the Horcrux. "I love Ron as much as any of my children!" The noise managed to summon the other searchers over to her and they stared at her with concern. Alastor tried to convince her to put down the diadem, but not a single word he was saying sunk into her head.

Then why did you let him go to school with a broken wand? Or a wand that wasn't his own? You knew he was weak and worthless. A glutton, good for nothing worthless son. The best thing that can be done for him is to convince him to marry the mudblood and have her keep him out of trouble. You know it. I know it. Your children are disappointments, but I can offer the power to make them better. Watch and see.

Images flew into Molly's head. Images of Fred and George working as Aurors together. Of Ginny the proud wife of Harry Potter. Ron being a champion Quidditch player. Bill working at a decent job with humans at the Department of Mysteries. Charlie working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Arthur as the Minister of Magic himself, with Percy as his Undersecretary. All of them were rich. All of them were successful. All of them were turning the Weasley family into something that she could be proud of. But there was one more thing they had in common.

"They're not happy," Molly snarled and she could feel the presence in her head taken aback for the first time in the conversation.

What does that matter? They're everything you ever wanted them to be.

"It matters because what I want doesn't matter!" Molly shouted. "You know nothing of what it means to be a parent, Tom Marvolo Riddle! My needs are irrelevant! As a parent, it is my responsibility to do what is best for my children, and that means putting their needs above my own wants!"

She snarled at the diadem and she could sense its fear and it tasted amazing. She relished feeling the abomination that had nearly killed Ginny finally scared for its life. "Burn in hell, Riddle! This is for Ginny!"

And with that, she slammed the basilisk fang straight into the diadem. An earsplitting shriek was heard as the spirit of You Know Who within was destroyed. A viscous substance emerged from the diadem before dissipating into nothingness. Molly grabbed onto the shelf to keep herself upright. It felt like she'd run a marathon.

"Wow, Mum, that was amazing!" Ginny said, her eyes wide with awe.

"Thank…thank you, dear," Molly said, each word a struggle to get out.

Hermione hurried over to her. "Mrs. Weasley, it's okay. You don't have…we get it. You don't have to be strong for us. Let us be strong for you for once."

Molly's knees buckled and she fell to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It was so powerful," she whispered to Ginny. "Oh, sweetie. I can't believe you had to endure that for a whole year. And to still be sane? Incredible."

"Thanks," Ginny muttered.

Alastor collected the ruined pieces of the diadem and stuffed them in his pocket. "Two down, three to go. The hard part's done. Bill and his team will take care of the rest. I'm proud of you all. Come on, Molly. Let me brew you some tea."

"I need a drink," Molly said bluntly.

Alastor cracked a rare smile. "Aye, I'd say you'd earned one."

As much as Ron liked to think he was brave – as much as he was brave – he was glad he wasn't going to have to face any of the other Horcruxes. It took days for Mum to walk off whatever she'd endured when she'd destroyed the diadem, and Ron could still tell it was bothering her even after she got more or less back to her normal self. No, he was more than happy to let Bill and his team handle the remaining Horcruxes.

And that was a decision that ended up paying off. Bill and his team managed to get rid of the ring and the cup. Unfortunately, it had come at the cost of one of the lives of Bill's team members, but she'd known the risks when she'd taken the job. The locket, on the other hand, had been replaced by a fake by the mysterious RAB. Bill was certain it referred to Regulus Arcturus Black, so they'd invited Sirius back to Britain to see what he knew about the locket's possible location.

Though Sirius was a free man, if he'd taken normal magical transportation, he'd be mobbed by the press, so he decided to take Muggle transportation instead. Which is why Ron found himself one weekend in one of the Muggle cars his father loved so much, on the way to Heathrow Airport, alongside his friends, family, and Draco. Ron had never seen a Muggle airplane before, and frankly, even though Hermione had backed up Draco's accounts of them, he still found it really weird Muggles had such advanced technology.

They'd be meeting Sirius at the baggage claim. He'd be wearing a disguise, of course – he was still wanted in the Muggle world because the vindictive, petty minister had forgotten to tell them Sirius was a free man. Or it had just gotten lost in the bureaucracy. Ron gave it frankly even odds. In the meantime, Ron just goggled at the planes he saw on the runways, because they were even bigger than Draco had described them. They were just incredible! If only Dad could have gotten away from work, he would have been in heaven.

"I can't believe you have vehicles like this!" Ron said as they walked through the cavernous maze that seemed to be Heathrow, goggling at every single plain he could see from the window. "I mean, what are Muggles going to do next, go to the moon?"

"Um, about that…" Hermione began.

Ron's mouth dropped open. "You're shitting me!"

"Ronald Weasley, just because you're in the Muggle world now doesn't give you a license to swear like some uncultured barbarian," Mum chastised him. "Think of the example you're setting for your sister!"

"Sorry, mum," Ron mumbled. "So they really went to the moon, then?"

Hermione nodded. "It was twenty-five years ago when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon for the first time. I could tell you all about the rockets and how they worked, but I'd be here all day, really."

"I'd love to hear it," Draco said. It was strange hearing him say that entirely sincerely, instead of the horribly mocking way he once would have done.

Hermione launched into an exceedingly convoluted scientific explanation that probably would have made Harry, who had grown up in the Muggle world, just as confused as Ron was right now. Draco tried his best to last longer than Ron had, but he too ended up zoning out. Then, abruptly, he ran straight for the nearby baggage claim at full speed, bowling over several Muggle passengers in the process.

Ron watched as Draco pounced on a black-haired boy and snogged his brains out. At first, Ron had thought Draco had projected his desire to see Harry on some innocent victim, but he soon realized that it was indeed Harry, just looking rather different. And in Ron's inexpert opinion, better. Harry was more filled out, taller, healthier looking, and overall happier than Ron had ever seen him. Months in the Caribbean had given him a nice tan. Ron was not into blokes, as previously stated, but as an objective observer and friend, he could concede that Harry looked actually quite hot now.

"I've missed you so much," Draco said, gazing lovingly into his eyes. He was getting angry glares from a lot of people in the vicinity, but he didn't care a bit. Well, he didn't notice, more accurately, but he wouldn't have cared if he had noticed most likely. Ron vaguely recalled Hermione mentioning a lot of Muggles had a problem with people like Draco and Harry, which was absurd. Well, the them both being boys part. The nauseating display of affection part, well, that was only sensible.

"Well, when Sirius said he needed to return to England, I basically wouldn't stop begging him until he let me come with him," Harry said. "It's not like he had anyone to look after me anyway."

"What about Remus?" Mum asked.

Harry sighed. "We decided Remus can't know I'm alive. It's not that we don't trust him. It's just that Grindelwald was infamous for his skills at mentally manipulating werewolves back in the war. We just couldn't take the chance."

"Well, we won't have to worry about that for much longer," Sirius said firmly. "I know the locket you're looking for. It's in my house – and, no, Harry, I will not permit you to face it!"

"I…didn't want to, though," Harry said, looking puzzled. "But I might need to be the one to do it. I used to have one in my head, you see."

"Absolutely not," Sirius said. "Under no circumstances can you – DID YOU JUST SAY YOU HAD ONE IN YOUR HEAD?!" Everyone stared at them. A security guard started walking towards them.

Mum cleared her throat. "Let's move before we get into trouble, Sirius! We can have this conversation in the car."

When they returned to the parking garage and got in the car, Harry explained about his meeting with the goblins of Gringotts. Or his supposed meeting with them, because Ron could tell that whoever Harry met with, they weren't the goblins. And if that wasn't abundantly clear by the way they acted towards Harry, the fact that Hermione's memory of the meeting was fuzzy at best was all the proof they need.

"Oh, Harry, you clearly got scammed," Daphne pointed out. "It was pretty common in the aftermath of the war. People pretended to be goblins and claim people were the lord or lady of various noble houses. And they'd help manage their affairs for a fee, which of course they ran away with."

"Yes, but that's not the point here," Luna reminded them. "Someone has Voldemort's final Horcrux. And I think we all know who it is."

Mum nodded. "I'll do everything I can to find it. I'll tear that bastard's office top to bottom if I have to."

Bill drove the car away from the airport. Of course, they weren't going to be foolish enough to take Harry to Grimmauld Place where he might be tempted to face the locket. Instead, they brought him to a hotel a respectable distance away from the airport and practically dragged a pouting Harry into a room on the top floor. "No one is to let him leave this room," Sirius demanded. "We'll be back soon, I hope."

"I have a surefire method of distracting Harry if you leave the two of us alone," Draco said with a roguish grin. Ron felt queasy.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, I will not have you corrupting young Harry with licentiousness!" Mum thundered.

"I was just going to suggest we play some board games," Draco said in an innocent tone that fooled no one.

Bill sighed a long suffering sigh. "Look, there's something more important to be done." He placed a plain rock onto the table. "We discovered this inside the ring Horcrux. We think it's the Resurrection Stone." Everyone who was raised in the magical world let out a gasp.

Hermione raised a hand. "What's that?"

Ron grinned. It was rare he knew something his girlfriend didn't, but he took the opportunity to revel in it whenever it arrived. He proceeded to explain the Tale of the Three Brothers to her. She looked entirely skeptical through the whole thing, even when it was pointed out to her that Harry's Invisibility Cloak had the same unique qualities as the one from the tale.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe this allows us to communicate with the dead," Hermione said scathingly.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Bill pointed out. "You turn it over three times and the shades of the people you want to talk to will appear. None of us tried it ourselves because, well, that kind of magic is hard to give up. But I think Harry's strong enough to handle it once. He has unfinished business."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "You…you mean I can talk to Mum and Dad?"

"Yes. Until I return. Then I'm taking the Stone and giving it to the goblins. It'll go a long way in paying off the debt I owe for cleansing Mum."

Harry pounced on Bill with a hug. Ron couldn't help but laugh a little at seeing the affronted look on Draco's face. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're family, Harry," Bill said firmly. "Remember that."

Bill and Sirius left. Harry looked at the Stone, a variety of emotions warring on his face. Ron could only imagine what he was feeling right now. Probably a combination of excited and scared out of his wits. "Um, Mrs. Weasley, with respect…do you mind taking Ginny, Luna, and Daphne to the lobby? This is a…personal moment…"

"We'll be waiting by the elevators," Mum said after a moment, clearly warring between the obvious truth that personal didn't even begin to describe the moment before them and her desire to make sure Harry didn't sneak out.

Harry took a deep breath and turned it over once. "What if they don't like me?" he whispered. "What if she's like Petunia? What if they hate me for liking a Malfoy? What if –"

"Turn over the bloody Stone and stop talking nonsense," Ron ordered him with steel in his voice.

Harry gaped at him for a few seconds, then nodded and turned over the Stone. Ron had genuinely not expected anything to happen. The magical world had a lot of things that even by their standards seemed miraculous, but bringing the dead into the living realm was beyond even that. Of course, ghosts existed, but that was different. They were just a copy of the living person and went away when their purpose had been fulfilled, as McGonagall's ghost had done once she was able to denounce her killer.

But sure enough, the spirits of two people, a man who was almost the spitting image of Harry and a woman with the exact same eyes as him, appeared in the room. Lily and James Potter. The people who'd sired Ron's best friend, who'd given up their lives to save him. The people who truly saved the magical world. Harry's mouth dropped open and he appeared lost for words.

They were so young. Ron knew, intellectually, that they'd only been twenty-one when they died, but there was knowing that and seeing it before him. It was unfair they'd died so young. A burning sense of injustice appeared within Ron at the thought of all the things Voldemort and Grindelwald had deprived them of. It should have been Harry's parents who comforted him after he slew the basilisk, after he killed Quirrell, after he faced down all those dementors, after Ron had rejected him. (Okay, none of those things, save the last one, should have happened at all, but that wasn't the point.) Instead of no one. Instead of Harry getting comprehensively failed by everyone who was supposed to look after them.

Draco finally gave Harry an unsubtle nudge as the Potters waited patiently for Harry to say something. "You're…you're here," Harry whispered.

"I see he has my brains," Lord Potter joked with a whimsical smile. The same smile Ron had seen on Harry's face in his rare happy moments. "Hi, son. It's so good to finally see you again."

Harry reached out and tried to touch Lord Potter, only for his hand to go straight through him. Harry's face wore a look of devastated betrayal and Ron's heart broke a bit upon seeing it. "Why'd you do it?" he demanded. "Why'd you leave me with them?"

"We didn't, sweetie," Lady Potter said gently. She wasn't offended by Harry's accusation at all. "We made it clear in our will that you weren't to be left with Petunia under any circumstances. Unfortunately, we made Albus the executor of our wills and he just ignored our last request. Or should I say Grindelwald."

Lord Potter crossed his arms, looking grim. "Every day, I regret I fell for that man's lies. But his impersonation was flawless. We had no idea it wasn't Albus running the show. We should have left. We shouldn't have listened to him and to that rat. But what's done is done. We can't change the past."

"Pettigrew is working for Grindelwald," Lady Potter warned them. "He's smarter than he looks. Do not underestimate him." She tried for a smile. It was not a very impressive one. "So will you introduce me to your friends?"

"Oh!" Harry said with a nervous laugh. His hand was trembling slightly but he seemed to otherwise be calm. It was bullshit. Ron knew his best friend better than he knew himself. Harry was freaked out of his wits and trying his level best not to show it. And unfortunately, he'd had a great deal of practice trying to not show his emotions. "These are my best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

Hermione gave an awkward curtsy. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord and Lady Potter."

"Oh, Hermione, dear, please call us Lily and James," Lily urged her. "We never tolerated such formality. I believe firmly in the importance of equality." Hermione gave a wide smile. She'd found a kindred spirit, Ron could tell.

"We're very proud of all the help you've given our son," James said. "He really couldn't have asked for better friends than you."

Ron reached out and squeezed Harry's trembling hand. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry nodded at him and drew himself up proudly. "And this is my boyfriend Draco Malfoy."

Ron watched as James's face fell and drew his wand on instinct. The fact it would be impossible to hit the shades with any spells since they weren't corporeal didn't even occur to him. "I can't believe it," James pouted. "He's blond!" Harry blinked a couple of times. "I swore to Marlene you'd go for a redhead! I owe her twenty galleons!"

Lily looked like she was about to rip James's head off. "James!" she snarled. "Don't act like that! Can't you see how nervous he is?" She sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Harry. James has a habit of speaking before thinking. James, Draco is a boy. And Harry is also a boy."

"So…?" James said, sounding bewildered. "He's blond! My son went for a blond boy! Blond is the most unattractive hair color of all!"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" Harry shouted. "My Draco looks absolutely perfect!" Draco blushed. Hermione did a face palm.

"They are like this all the time," Ron confided. Lily gave him a look of commiseration.

"I don't understand what I did wrong," James pouted.

Lily sighed. "James, remember a little thing called homophobia? Remember that our son was raised by the Dursleys?"

James's face went pale. "Oh. Oh, deerling, no! Of course I support you getting together with a boy. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had gotten together with a redhead..."

"It wasn't for lack of trying," Harry muttered. Ron suddenly wished he was anywhere else.

"But wherever your heart leads you is fine with me, Harry," James continued. "I just want you to be happy. God knows you haven't had nearly enough of that in your life."

Draco gave a smile that even Ron had to concede lit up the room. It was always jarring seeing Draco act like a regular person. It was something that had been happening more and more with Harry's influence, but it hadn't gotten any less weird. "Thank you so much, sir. I know I've been nasty to your son in the past – to everyone, really – but I've been working hard to change and be better."

"And your efforts are appreciated, Draco," Lily said with a wide smile. "My own parents were highly unpleasant individuals themselves. Petunia didn't just randomly become the person she is today. So I understand how hard it is to rise above that."

Harry nodded slowly. He seemed to be working up the courage to say something. This time, it was Hermione who uttered words of encouragement in his ear. Ron couldn't hear what she said, but it must have worked, because Harry said, "Are you proud of me?"

"Of course we are, Harry," Lily said, ironclad certainty filling her voice. "No parents have ever been more proud of a child before. Of course, we'd be happier if you hadn't put yourself into danger so much, but we are so, so proud of you."

"But…I ran away. While my friends were in the same castle as a Dark Lord, I was sunbathing!"

"And you look damn good!" Draco blurted, and then put his hands to his mouth, looking absolutely mortified.

Lily and James stepped closer to Harry. "Deerling, you did the smart thing," James said firmly. "And the right thing. Removing yourself from the situation made your friends irrelevant to Grindelwald. He doesn't care about them except as pressure points for you."

"Oh," Harry said. He clearly hadn't been expecting such a well-reasoned argument. But James hadn't been one of the Order of the Phoenix's top fighters for no reason. "Okay."

"We still have some time before Bill returns," Hermione said. "Why don't you talk to your parents about some of the things you've gone through at Hogwarts?"

It took a few minutes to for Harry to work up the courage to start talking to his parents, but once the floodgates opened, it seemed like they would never stop. Harry went into excruciating detail about all the things he'd gone through at Hogwarts. Even Ron was unaware of some of it. Some of it he was aware of intellectually, but hadn't really processed until now. Like the fight against the basilisk. Ron had thought of it as, well, an adventure. The sort of thing Merlin had done. But the accounts of Merlin had left out how bloody terrifying such things were. Hearing all of the crap Harry had gone through in large part thanks to Grindelwald made Ron's blood boil even more than it had back when they were all going through it.

"I think without my friends to back me up, I would have gone crazy," Harry finished.

"Oh, don't be ludicrous, Harry," Hermione said briskly. "You would have died long before that."

Lily opened her mouth to say something, but there was a knock on the door before she could say anything. Bill was back. "We have to go, Harry, but you'll see us again one day," she promised. "A very long time from now."

"Do you have to go?" Harry begged. "Please stay. Stay for me."

"We can't, Harry," James said, sounding genuinely regretful. "The dead and the living are not meant to interact. I wish we could be here for you."

Tears were streaming down Harry's cheeks, mirrored exactly by the face of his mother. Lily reached out again, but her hand went straight through Harry's face. The two of them grimaced identically. "We love you so much," she said. "And we're so proud of you. Once Grindelwald is defeated, I know you'll be able to be safe and happy."

"Don't put yourself at unnecessary risk," James ordered him. Ron rolled his eyes. It wasn't that Harry was going to disobey their instructions, but Harry's idea of necessary risks was radically different than a sane person's. "But don't be afraid to fight for what is right."

Draco opened the door and Bill walked into the room, Mum and the rest of Harry's friends by his side. "It's time, Harry," Bill said softly.

Harry nodded curtly. "I love you, mum and dad." He turned around and wouldn't watch as Bill grabbed the Stone and Lily and James's shades disappeared as if they'd never been there to begin with.

Ron was never the best with words. Oftentimes, he ended up saying the absolute worst thing possible, almost as if he'd been cursed. But this wasn't a moment that necessarily needed words. He reached out and hugged Harry, who eagerly responded to the physical attention. He expected Draco to say something rude in a fit of jealousy, but Draco understood the truth as well as Harry did. The two of them were brothers. The two of them against the world. And against Dark Lords too.

"We all love you, Harry," Ron said softly. "We're never going to let you go."

Harry tried his best to form words, but none seemed to come to him. But it didn't matter. It never would. Ron knew he felt the same way and that was all that mattered.