Finn Dodge had lied. He'd told Parkinson and Avery, and then separately Benton Goyle, that they'd hear from him the moment he gained entry to the Potter house. Access was imminent, he'd said (also a lie), and even though months had passed since that first meeting when he'd offered up the suggestion of power lying dormant in Godric's Hollow, avarice had kept the men in check. The truth was, Dodge had made no progress in his bid to get into the house until that day, quite unexpected, when Harry Potter had suddenly decided to sign the engagement letter. Another man might have spent time trying to figure out why, but it was a sign of Dodge's eagerness (and a failing), that he didn't stop to question it. All that mattered was that he was going to be able to follow through on his promises, gain the information he needed, and finally get the former Death Eaters off his back and into the palm of his hand.

But not yet.

He needed to go by himself, first. Indeed, the prospect made him nearly giddy, and Dodge was not generally prone to hysteria. He'd made a name for himself through carefully placed suggestions and thoughtful questions (aided by subtle compulsion charms, of course). Many of those he interacted with were scarcely aware that they'd done Dodge's bidding as much as their own.

He kept his hands very clean, and it was for that reason alone that he did not leave the very moment he knew Harry had signed the letter. He might be able to get into the house on his own now, but that didn't mean he wanted to be seen doing so. Plans would have to be made.

For the first time, Harry wished Ginny was on an extended road trip with the Harpies. If she'd been out of town, it would have been much easier to do what he was getting ready to do, which was sleep overnight at his parents' house.

She was the one who'd talked him into it, after he'd hesitantly raised the issue. Yes, of course she'd much prefer if they could spend these free weeks together and yes, she fully intended to have him make it up to her afterwards.

"But right now, you belong there, until you know what Dodge is up to." Ginny's voice had boded no argument. "It will give you time to get more stories from their wands too."

That helped sell him on the idea too. As much as he wanted to share everything his parents showed him with Ginny, he was nearly positive that the visions would be different when he was alone, and he didn't want to lose those moments.

And so now here he was, with a puffy purple sleeping bag shrunk down in a pocket of his robes, waiting set up on the sofa in the sitting room. There had been no question that Harry would sleep downstairs, where he and Ginny had already been, and not on his parents' bed. Even the thought of that made him shiver. The wands were with him too, currently in his hand, but the moment the front door creaked he shoved them into the crease between the sofa cushions. He was standing with his own wand trained on the entryway in less than a second, watching as the door swung open.

Harry's first thought was that Finn Dodge must be an excellent actor. If the man was at all surprised to see Harry he didn't show it, indeed, seemed to have expected the greeting.

"Harry, good to see you here at last!" Dodge spread his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. Harry decided to play along; it was a basic Auror strategy when danger wasn't imminent. He dropped his wand arm and nodded.

"It's good to be here. I've been meaning to finally start filling out that list you gave me. Of the things I want to keep." He very purposely did not mention the other document Dodge had given him - the letter - or the fact that the last time he and Harry had seen each other, Dodge had told him that signing the letter would help keep others out of the house. Obviously it did not.

"I'm very glad to hear that," said Dodge seriously. "I meant what I said when I saw you at the Ministry; there are too many people with too much interest in what's going on here." He gave a delicate sniff. "And as you know, some of them will stop at nothing." He wrung his hands. "All the years I knew Gemella, her work ethic was impeccable. I can't imagine what might have changed; she seemed so pleased to be retiring."

"What do you mean?" Harry spoke more sharply than he'd intended. He took a breath in and sat down on the sofa, just over the spot where the wands were hidden. "You sound as though you think Ms. Hopkirk's death was her own fault."

"No, no, you misunderstand me." Dodge sat down in one of the chairs opposite Harry. His eyes flicked around the room, landing first on the tiny broom, then the high chair, and finally on the photos on the mantle over the fireplace. Harry bet anything the man wished he could get up and examine them more closely, and he made the decision to start filling out the list the moment Dodge was gone; the sooner everything from the home was in Harry's vault, the better. He stayed quiet, and after another pass around the space, Dodge spoke again.

"I only meant that something must have happened to make . . . whoever killed her think she had information they could use. They'll stop at nothing, you know."

Harry did know, and he refrained from asking Dodge how he seemed to know so much about the activities of the former Death Eaters himself. He wasn't one of them himself, that much the Aurors were certain.

"I appreciate how much effort you've put into keeping my house and its contents safe," said Harry smoothly. He thought quickly. "It's late tonight, but maybe during one of my future trips here you can . . . advise me on the value and worth of various items here." He gave a helpless shrug. "I'm likely to just want to keep everything."

It worked; Dodge couldn't entirely hide the way his eyes lit up, although he quickly schooled his features. "I think that would be the most efficient," he agreed. His gazed roamed greedily again before landing on Harry. He gave him an understanding smile. "Given how long you ignored my letters I don't think it's wrong to say that you haven't been eager to spend time here."

"I'm sure you understand why," said Harry. "Even though I'm sure good things happened here, I certainly don't have any memories of them." Something poked against his thigh, then retreated. He shifted his weight on the sofa. "The best I can hope for are a few of my parents' knickknacks." He made his voice deliberately light. "I can't imagine they'd be of much interest to anyone else."

"Ahhh, but there you're wrong, Mr. Potter." Dodge leaned forward. "It's not just this place that's of interest to so many. The items in it carry deep fascination as well. That's why I've had to be a bit . . . pushier with you than I wanted. My first duty is to protect your inheritance, of course."

The man spoke so earnestly that Harry almost believed him. Almost. But he couldn't forget the 76 editions of Dodge's newsletter, all dedicated to gossip and conjecture about his life. Even if the man wasn't responsible for Gemella Hopkirk's death, he may very well know who was, and why.

"I appreciate your concern, truly I do," he said as sincerely as he could. And if he was honest with himself, getting the contents of the house sorted needed to be done, regardless. He yawned and stood up, thankful the sleeping bag hadn't been in sight when Dodge arrived. "If you don't mind, I'd like a few more minutes alone in the house before I go home; I'm sure you understand."

Dodge nodded smoothly and stood as well. "Please be careful, Harry." He spread his arms wide. "Certainly you can feel the power in the house, probably better than I can. There's something waiting here, you know. Something to be found."

If Harry wasn't mistaken, he was hearing the lead-in sentences of volume 77. It was pretty clear to him that Dodge didn't actually know what sort of curses might have been cast in the house; he just wanted to drum up interest in others. Maybe one of those interested people was responsible for Gemella Hopkirk's death. He shook Dodge's hand.

"I'll be careful. I have a bit of experience with this sort of thing, you know."

"Of course; forgive me," said Dodge smoothly. "You'll let me know when you'd like me to come back, then? So we can work on cataloging your things?"

"I will," agreed Harry. "After the holidays though; I'm going to be spending a lot of my time in the next week or so at the Burrow. Certainly you don't want to work over Christmas, do you?" He had no idea if the man actually had family to celebrate with. Dodge's lips tightened for the briefest instant.

"Of course you do," he said. "I think . . . yes. Let's meet after the new year. Go and spend time with your loved ones. Don't worry about things here." He gave a small smile. "After all, another week certainly won't make a difference after all these years." He paused, and in that moment Harry knew Dodge was hoping they could leave together. He gestured towards the door.

"As I said, I still have some business here. Thank you for coming to check in."

"You're welcome," said Dodge formally. He gave one last look around the room and then finally departed.

Harry waited a long beat, and then another, before pulling the wands out from the sofa. They were vibrating, and if he hadn't known better, he might have thought they were agitated.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I couldn't get him to leave." This time he held his mum's wand first and did the Priori spell on his father's. A moment later he held back a yelp.

His parents had materialized at the other end of the sofa he was sitting on; so close that he could have reached out and touched his mother's arm. They were very close together, looking at something between them. Harry stood up so he could see better.

It was a small stack of photos; ones Harry could tell immediately that he hadn't seen before. His mum in a loose white sundress smiling and twirling with his father, who looked both pleased and nervous in navy dress robes. His mother twirled again and he caught glimpse of the bouquet of flowers in her left hand. Lilies.

On the sofa, his parents continued to exclaim and laugh at the photos of their wedding; Harry saw one of Sirius giving a toast, Remus and Peter laughing, and more of his parents dancing with faces Harry only vaguely recognized, if at all. It had been a small event; not surprisingly, Petunia was not in any of the images.

"I'm glad we didn't wait." His mum's voice was wistful as she watched herself dancing in her husband's arms. "Every minute with you is precious."

"We'll have a lot more moments." Harry didn't know if he was imagining the uncertainty in his father's voice. James paused. "I hope."

"Harry will have them for us, if we can't." Lily sounded much more sure than James. "He won't wait either." She looked up and her gaze passed right through Harry and to the steps. "It's still in the bed box; it needs to stay there a little bit longer. Not much though."

There was that phrase again, "bed box." Harry still didn't know what it meant, although it wasn't hard to guess. Still, something kept him from immediately going upstairs and peering around his parents' bed. He knew this wasn't a real memory, and no matter how impossible it was, he was certain his parents were trying to tell him something important. Besides, he liked thinking about Ginny here.

But they didn't keep discussing their son's future plans; James put the photos on the table and the atmosphere changed abruptly.

"He thought he hurt us, but it only made us stronger." James grabbed Lily's hands in his. "I wish it wasn't too late." His voice echoed strangely in the room. Lily nodded stiffly.

"We had no choice, but now we do. He was wrong all along."

"Who was wrong?" Harry asked without thinking. He half expected his parents to disappear.

"It was foolish of him," James agreed. "We are . . . wholly unsuited." His voice was getting quieter.

"Not for Harry though." Lily's voice sounded sad. "We're perfectly suited for Harry. He's already figured that out."

"He's as smart as his mum," said James. The pride was evident in his tone, although Harry had to lean forward to hear it. "He won't let us be used by . . ."

It was no use; Harry was unable to hear the last word his father spoke. The images faded away with his parents' voices and even though the visions didn't give off light, the room seemed darker when they were gone. It was very quiet.

It was a testament to how much he wanted to see Ginny that Harry took the Floo instead of Apparating to the Burrow. The fact that it was nearly midnight and freezing may have had something to do with it as well. He took particular care in the Floo, keeping his eyes closed and stepping out more carefully than usual to keep from making any noise and waking the household. When he straightened up, mentally congratulating himself for his stealth, it was to find Ginny sitting at the kitchen table. She pushed a steaming mug in his direction.

"Cocoa?"

"Yeah," Harry managed. He didn't sit down, but walked behind her chair and leaned over so he could wrap his arms around her. "I didn't want to sleep there," he mumbled into the top of her head.

Ginny tilted her head back so she could see him. "I know. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Harry let go of Ginny and took a seat. "I will, but I have to work it out in my head first." He took a sip of the cocoa. "For starters, we now know what signing Dodge's letter did. He can get inside the house now when I'm there; he showed up right after I arrived."

Ginny looked startled. "He did? What did you do?"

Harry shrugged. "I played dumb; it's an Auror strategy." He gave her a sheepish grin. "Which I absolutely should not have told you.'

She relaxed. "I promise to keep your secret." A tiny wrinkle appeared on her forehead. "He can't be a terrible wizard, if he was able to get past the blood ward."

"Well, I wanted to trigger whatever signing the letter did," Harry pointed out. "I expect that had a lot to do with it." He got up from his chair again and held out his hand. "Thank you for waiting up for me, but can we go to sleep now? I'll tell you everything else in the morning."

Ginny took his hand. "I'll go to bed, but I"m not ready for sleep," she said pointedly.

Impulsively, Harry scooped her up into his arms, much like the photo he'd seen of his dad holding his mum.

"I'm not ready for sleep either," he said.

They did make love, and then fell heavily asleep immediately afterwards. Harry hadn't realized just how exhausted he'd been until he woke up to an empty bed and the smell of bacon wafting up from downstairs. To his surprise, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and their girlfriends were sitting around the kitchen table with Ginny, all tucking into an enormous breakfast. He yawned, and accepted the mug of coffee Molly handed him.

"When did you all get here?" he asked, feeling a bit off-balance. It wasn't already Christmas Eve, was it? He was pretty sure he still had a couple of days; Ginny had mentioned needing to get to Diagon Alley for his gift just last night. Fred grinned.

"Just in time to eat almost all the food, mate. That was some lie-in you were having."

The sight of Mrs. Weasley walking in with a fresh platter of sausages and pancakes was the only thing that prevented Harry from sending a stinging hex in Fred's direction. One couldn't let their guard down around the twins, after all. He sank into a chair.

"Work's been . . . busy," he said, taking a deep pull out of his coffee mug. His eyes narrowed. "Actually, how are you here? Isn't this your busiest time of year?"

"Hmm. Too busy to shop or cook, so they come here to eat," said Mrs. Weasley. There was no venom in her words though. She swatted Fred on the back of the head. "I expect you to at last clear your plates before you leave."

Ginny jumped up, holding her plate. "I'll clear mine too; I need to get to Diagon Alley." She brushed her hand over Harry's back as she walked by. "I'm not quite done with my Christmas shopping."

Harry was done, to his immense relief, at least for the things that needed to be bought right now.. The thought of being in Diagon Alley right now was unappealing, and any other business he had there could thankfully wait until after new year. He kissed his girlfriend.

"Mind if I work in your room? I want to write up my notes about our investigation and things." Ron looked up.

"Send me your bit when it's done and I'll work it into what I've got," he said. "That way we'll both get finished faster."

Hermione, who still looked rather peaky, gave him a fondly exasperated look. "I'm glad that combining reports works better for the Aurors than it did for your Transfiguration essays," she rasped. Ron nodded cheerfully.

"We never did fool McGonagall, did we?" He touched her on the arm. "George helped me set up the owl post so you can finish your Christmas shopping from here." He fussed around her, straightening the blanket she had over her shoulders. Harry caught Ginny's eye and grinned.

"I love you," she mouthed.

"More," he said out loud. George looked up.

"More what, Harry? I'm sure if you ask nicely my mum will bring you more sausages."

"Nothing," he muttered. He stood up, intent on getting his report finished as quickly as possible.

But once in Ginny's room Harry had trouble focusing. The air smelled like her flowery scent and sex, a combination Harry found intoxicating and distracting. It was his own private Amortentia, he thought wryly. The bedclothes were still mussed from their sleep and it was with the greatest of effort that he sat down at Ginny's desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. He made notes first, trying to grasp the most important bits of what he knew about Gemella Hopkirk and intertwining them with details about the likely suspects, their connection to Godric's Hollow, and finally, his thoughts about Dodge. Once all the words were on the page he found it easier to compile them into a mostly-coherent narrative on a fresh piece of parchment. And if the ending section had more questions than answers well, that was what they were investigating. He sealed the scroll loosely and was about to charm it to fly up to Ron's room when the man's Patronus dropped down beside him.

"Harry, we just got an owl from Gawain; he says he's sorry but he wants us in for a meeting before we all scatter for the holidays - something about coordinating our facts and knowledge. Did you finish your report?" The terrier spoke with a hopeful tone and Harry couldn't help but smile. Instead of sending back his stag, he walked back downstairs to find Ron waiting alone for him.

"Everyone connected to the case at your parents' house is going to be there; the note says it won't take too long. He wants to confirm coverage over the next week."

"I don't think we need someone there round-the-clock," said Harry quickly. "If he does, I'll do it."

Ron shook his head. "I don't think so; Gawain just wants to make sure we all know who's taking care of each piece." He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "It's just another case."

Harry nodded. "Hope it really does go quickly." Ginny still wasn't back from her trip to Diagon Alley but he supposed it was too much to hope he'd be done before she was. Still, he knew his boss probably wanted to get home as much as anyone. He grabbed his traveling cloak and braced for the cold walk to the Apparition point.

"We can Floo, you know." Ron's voice was amused. Harry turned around and rolled his eyes.

"To Godric's Hollow? It's a farther walk from the Floo at the Winged Lion than if we just Apparate from here."

"We're meeting at Headquarters," Ron explained. At Harry's look, he shrugged. "Hey, I don't make the decisions. If you think we need to be there instead, we can tell Robards when we get there."

"No, it's okay; probably easier anyway." Truth be told, Harry was a little relieved that they were meeting elsewhere. Dodge's intrusion had rattled him more than he wanted to admit, and even though he didn't feel the same way about having the Aurors in the house, a bit of distance for a day or two would be welcome. He tucked his report into his robes and followed Ron into the Floo.

The kitchen was still quiet an hour later when the fireplace flared green again and Ginny stepped out, a pensive look on her face. She looked swiftly around and, seeing no one, headed upstairs. The emptiness of her room threw her; she'd expected to find Harry there to answer her questions and give her reassurance. Instead, her eyes landed on the note-covered parchment on her desk.

It was Harry's scrawling hand, and some of his comments made Ginny's stomach drop.

Who made a Horcrux? Or is trying? How far? Investigate Avery etc.

Objects? Murders? Motive?

How do wands fit in? Ask Bill.

Ginny didn't understand everything, but things were clearer now than they had been before she'd run into Blaise Zabini in Diagon Alley. Harry rarely mentioned his former classmate, other than to once tell Ginny that he thought the man might have had a crush on her at Hogwarts.

She had laughed at the time, telling Harry Blaise had barely glanced at her while they were at school and she wasn't sure he even knew her name. Obviously, she'd been wrong about that.

"Ginny." The voice was measured and quiet, behind her in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Despite the use of her name, Ginny was uncertain at first that the wizard was talking to her. He held out his hand. "Blaise Zabini."

She shook it as briefly as possible. "I know," she said, trying not to let her confusion show. "You were in the year ahead of me at Hogwarts." Harry's comment about Blaise fancying her popped into her head. He couldn't be hitting on her, could he? Blaise gave her a knowing look.

"I was," he nodded. "With Potter, although we were in different houses, of course." He inclined his head towards his chest, where a small silver and green button gleamed on his robes.

"Of course." Harry and Ron could have gotten similar Gryffindor buttons after they finished school - if they had finished school - but Fred had joked that only prats cared to show off their school house after they graduated, and then Percy had remarked that he quite liked his button, which had an added script "HB" on it,, and that was the end of that discussion. Ginny was fishing around for small talk, but Blaise continued.

"You've seen him recently, I assume?"

Ginny wasn't sure if Blaise was joking; he didn't seen like the type to kid. She nodded. "This morning." After a pause she added, "We've been dating since . . . for almost two years now."

Blaise did not look surprised. "Since he vanquished the Dark Lord, you mean." He tilted his head. "Potter knew how to do it, didn't he? What did he say that day - that there weren't any more Horcruxes?" His voice grew soft. "Curious things, aren't they? Not many of us knew, even those in his innermost circle."

It did not escape Ginny's notice that Blaise seemed to be including himself in that group, even though she'd never heard he was a Death Eater. He seemed to guess her thoughts.

"Without a father, my . . . connections were less settled." He gave her a small smile. "The Aurors had no reason to be interested in me, you know."

"And now?" Ginny's voice was sharper than she intended. Blaise's expression grew thoughtful.

"Benton Goyle lost his son, you know."

Ginny nodded shortly. "He and Crabbe were trying to kill Harry and Ron and Hermione." She had no idea why Blaise had changed the subject. Saying that Harry and her brother had tried to save him - that at least Goyle hadn't burned to death like Crabbe - seemed cruel. She stayed quiet, and after a moment he continued.

"He wonders - as do others - just what Harry knew about those Horcruxes." He paused. "What he knows. They protected the Dark Lord the first time, did they not?"

Ginny knew what Blaise meant. Still, she feigned confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. Is this an Auror matter?"

The eager look on Blaise's face eased. "Maybe it is, yes. Or maybe it's more . . . personal." He reached forward and put his hand on Ginny's arm. "Finn Dodge is nosy. Useful, but nosy. We could bypass him, with Harry's help, and we'd all benefit." His grip on her tightened a fraction and Ginny had to force herself not to grab her wand. "The house - Harry's house - is ready to give up its secrets. But only a few of us were close to the Dark Lord. Remember that. His hand disappeared, and then he melted into the crowd.

Ginny peered more closely at the notes on the parchment Harry had left on her desk. That word - Horcrux - mocked her. Blaise had seemed almost greedy when he'd mentioned them. And had he implied that the Death Eaters knew how to make one? With something from Harry's house? Her gaze moved down the page.

How do the wands fit in?

Ginny touched the parchment and another line appeared; Harry must have written it later.

Ginny - going to a meeting about the house - see you when I'm back. Love you more, Harry

She was downstairs again before she even knew she was moving. It was a good thing she hadn't even taken off her traveling cloak. The walk to the Apparition point passed in a blur; she barely felt the cold.

Her previous trips to Godric's Hollow made it easy; she didn't even bother with the lane outside, but focused on the sitting room where Harry would be sitting with the other Aurors.

There were four men sitting in the sitting room, as she'd expected. But none of them were familiar. Before she could think about what it meant, before she could warn Harry or Apparate away again, one of them stood up and smiled at her.

"Miss Weasley, what a pleasant surprise. We weren't expecting you, but you are most welcome."