Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no money out of this.

The Golden Trio

The three young wizards sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room. The silence that was brewing between them was a tense one. Harry knew what was coming, but knowing didn't help with the dread rising inside him.

"We need to talk, Harry." Hermione finally said.

It was time to have the conversation Harry had been avoiding since his return. Harry gathered all of his Gryffindor courage, cast a quick silencing spell around them, and said, "Whatever do you mean?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, but it was Ron who spoke next

"I told you," he muttered, shaking his head and looking angrily at nowhere in particular.

"Don't be like that, Ron" Hermione chastised her friend, though there was no real intention behind her words.

"What are you scolding me for?" Ron demanded of Hermione. He raised his arm and pointed a finger directly at Harry, "He is the one who's being a prick"

"I get how you feel, mate," Harry started. He was trying for a reassuring tone, but some of the anger that started to grow inside him slipped into his words.

"Do you, Harry?" Ron interrupted, his tone raising as his face reddened, "Because I don't bloody know how I feel."

"Confused, hurt, betrayed?" Harry sighed "All of the above?".

Ron looked taken aback by that, but his eyes were still angry.

"There's no need to fight," Hermione jumped in, extending her arms to come in between her two only friends, "Let's talk about this."

"We tried that, I tried that," Ron spat "He has nothing to say to us."

"It's not like that, Ron," Harry said, deflated "I wish I could tell you but,"

"But you don't trust us," Ron's face was scrunched up in frustration, his brows furrowed and his lips pursed. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched, his whole body tense with anger, "We get it."

"I trust you with my life," Harry retorted angrily, "I trust you more than I trust anyone else."

"You have an odd way to show it," Ron accused, "I'm sure you tell Fleur more than you tell us."

"Of course I don't," Harry refuted, he felt the anger building up in his stomach, ready to be released, "What the hell does she have to do with anything?"

"I've seen you with the other champions," Ron said with venom in his words, "I guess you needed better friends."

Harry couldn't help it, he felt it rising in his chest with an unavoidable intensity. He tried to contain it, but he was unable. Harry started laughing, a thunderous heartfelt laugh that would have resonated through the entire common room if it weren't for the silencing spell he had cast.

Ron's face turned as red as his hair and Hermoine was looking at Harry as if he had grown a second head.

"What are you bloody laughing about?" Ron stood up, his hands by his sides, knuckles white.

"I'm laughing…" Harry gasped, trying to contain his laugh but failing abysmally "…at you…you idiot."

"What did you say to me?" Ron threatened. He took a step towards Harry, who was trying really hard not to fall from his armchair.

"Ron," Harry took a second to settle his laughter "I love you, you daft bastard."

All the colour drained from Ron's face as his eyes widened. Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Harry looked at both his friends, shaking his head as the last of his chuckles escaped him.

Harry stood up and approached Ron. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder "Ron," he said, looking at his first friend in the eyes, "You are my brother," He looked at Hermione, still sitting, seemingly frozen by the shock of such a plain declaration, "Both of you are my family."

Tears started forming in Hermione's eyes. Suddenly, she shot up from her sit and pulled both boys into a tight hug, "Oh, Harry." she muttered between sobs.

Harry left himself be taken by the hug and, after a moment of hesitation, Ron fully joined the embrace too. The golden trio stayed united like that for a moment, each of them letting the physical closeness fill the cracks that had formed between them.

Harry broke the embrace and sat back down on his armchair. He motioned for his friend to do the same.

After they did, he started "Look," he paused for a moment. He knew that this was a risk, but 'to hell with it' he thought, his friends deserved to be involved. "I need you both to understand that what I'm going to tell you must never be spoken about again. Not between the two of you, not even with me. This is the only time we discuss this."

Ron and Hermione nodded, but Harry pressed on. "I mean it. This information is dangerous – just knowing it could land you in Azkaban for life."

His friends shared a glance. A silent agreement passed between them, and they both turned to Harry with grim determination etched on their faces.

"Alright, Harry," Hermione said. "We're ready."

"Voldemort created what I can only describe as soul jars," Harry began, his voice low and heavy with the burden of the knowledge he was about to share. "These objects contain fragments of his soul, anchoring him to this world even after his body has been destroyed."

"Merlin's beard," Ron whispered, his face draining of colour.

Hermione was similarly taken aback. "Does that mean we can't defeat him until we destroy all these...soul jars?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Dumbledore and I are working on finding and destroying these objects. It's the only way to defeat him once and for all."

Hermione's mind raced with the implications of Harry's revelation. "And when they're all destroyed? Then what?"

"Then we can fight and defeat Voldemort," Harry said, his green eyes blazing with an inner fire.

"We would need an army to…" Hermione started, but then stopped herself and looked at Harry pointedly. "Harry, you can't."

Harry hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "It has to be me. There's a prophecy. Apparently, I'm the only one who can face and defeat him."

"Blimey, Harry," Ron choked out, his freckles standing out starkly against his pale skin. "That's a lot to take in. What can we do to help?"

"No, you can't—" Harry began, but he was cut off by Hermione's firm voice.

"Of course, we'll help, Harry," she said, with a look that told Harry that there was no room for negotiation. "We are family, you just said so yourself, and family is there for each other. Always."

Harry looked at his friends, their faces conveying the unwavering loyalty Harry had come to expect from them. He couldn't help but be moved by their support in the face of such danger. "Thank you," he said quietly, his throat tight with emotion. "But Dumbledore and I have things under control."

Ron's ears turned red, and Hermione's eyes flashed in indignation. "You can't just shut us out, Harry!" she protested, her voice rising in pitch. "We're going to help, whether you like it or not!"

"I know, but this is extremely dangerous," Harry insisted, his gaze flicking between them. "I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

"Wasn't finding the Philosopher's Stone dangerous?" Ron countered, his eyebrows knitting together. "And what about that bloody basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets? Or the time we faced a hundred Dementors after running away from a werewolf?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but found himself at a loss for words. They had been through so much together, in both their and Harry's past. Harry couldn't avoid the images of their deaths appearing in his mind.

"Look at us, Harry," Hermione said softly, her brown eyes warm and resolute. "We've always been together, through everything. We're not going to stop now."

The gratitude that swelled within him left Harry feeling both humbled and fortified. His friends' courage and devotion were an anchor in the stormy seas of uncertainty that threatened to engulf him. With a nod, he conceded, realising it wouldn't be right to keep them at arm's length when they were so desperate to help.

"Alright," he agreed, taking a deep breath.

A triumphant grin spread across Ron's freckled face, while Hermione's eyes stayed locked on Harry's.

"Dumbledore and I have reason to believe that Hufflepuff's Cup is one of these soul jars, but we don't know where it is," Harry said, as he leaned forward, lowering his voice despite the silencing charm. "I need you two to help by finding any clue about where the cup could be," Harry finished.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione replied without hesitation, her mind already racing with possible research strategies. "We'll start working on it right away."

"Er, research isn't exactly my strong suit," Ron admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I'll help however I can. Maybe I can look into Hufflepuff House and its history. See if anything stands out?"

"Thank you, Ron," Harry said, knowing how much his friend detested research. "Thank you both. But remember, we must be incredibly careful not to let anyone know what we're looking for. Voldemort can not know we have this information."

"Trust us, Harry," Hermione assured him, exchanging an understanding glance with Ron. "We'll be careful."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Harry's mouth, despite the gravity of the situation. It was moments like these that reminded him just how lucky he was to have such fiercely loyal friends by his side.

"I'll head to the library right away," Hermione said standing up.

"Me too," Ron chimed in. "I may not be much good with books, but I can definitely help you out, Hermione."

With a flick of his wrist, Harry dispelled the silencing charm that had enveloped them. In the sudden absence of its protective bubble, the ambient noise of the Gryffindor common room rushed back in like water filling a basin. Laughter, chatter, and the crackle of the fire now filled the air as they prepared to part ways.

Harry watched his friends retreat with a smile on his face. Involving them in the perilous search for Horcruxes was akin to dragging them further into the jaws of danger—a responsibility that weighed heavily upon his shoulders. Yet at the same time, he couldn't deny the warmth that bloomed within his chest at the thought of facing this challenge together, just as they always had.

Harry watched them disappear through the portrait hole, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the flickering shadows of the common room.