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The kitchen in Grimmauld Place was quiet as Harry descended the stairs, the echo of his own footsteps seemingly the only sound in the house. The tension from his recent interview with Madam Bones still lingered in his chest, but he pushed it aside. He had done his best, answering every question with as much honesty and detail as he could manage without revealing anything about the future or his time-traveling circumstances. Now, it was Sirius's turn.
When Harry entered the kitchen, Sirius looked up from where he sat at the long, polished table. His hands were wrapped around a mug of tea, though from the untouched state of it, Harry doubted he'd taken even a sip. Dumbledore sat at the other end of the table, his eyes closed as if in meditation, but Harry knew better than to assume he wasn't paying attention. The ever-watchful headmaster seemed to be aware of almost everything.
Sirius's questioning gaze met Harry's as soon as he walked in. Without saying a word, Sirius's eyebrows lifted, silently asking how it went.
Harry nodded reassuringly. "It was … okay. She certainly was thorough but seemed as if she was willing to listen to everything I said." He hesitated before adding, "She's waiting for you now."
Sirius's expression shifted, his face tightening. He nodded and stood, the chair scraping lightly against the floor as he pushed it back. But as he took a step toward the door, he hesitated. His hand hovered near the back of the chair, his eyes fixed on the door that led upstairs, where Madam Bones was waiting.
The hesitation was unlike Sirius. The brash, bold man Harry had come to know didn't often show fear or vulnerability, but this … this was about his name, his innocence, and everything he'd lost. It was personal.
Harry's heart ached at the sight of his godfather's unease. Without a second thought, he crossed the distance between them and approached Sirius. Without speaking, he wrapped his arms around him in a firm hug. For a moment, Sirius stiffened in surprise, but then he relaxed, one hand coming up to rest lightly on Harry's back.
"It'll be alright," Harry whispered. His voice was steady, though his throat felt tight. "You're innocent, Sirius. She'll see that."
Sirius's breath hitched slightly, and when Harry pulled back, he saw a faint mistiness in his godfather's grey eyes. Sirius quickly blinked it away and tried to cover it with a shaky grin.
"Thanks, kiddo," he said, his voice rough but warm. He reached out and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze, his grip firm and reassuring. Then, straightening his shoulders, Sirius glanced toward the door again. "Guess I'd better not keep her waiting, huh?"
"You'll do great," Harry said with a small smile, stepping back to give him room.
Sirius nodded once more, his confidence returning in small increments. He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his dark hair, and strode toward the door. He paused just briefly at the threshold, glancing back at Harry with a fleeting but grateful smile before disappearing up the stairs.
The door clicked softly shut behind him, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone in the kitchen. The room seemed quieter now, the air heavy with the weight of what Sirius was about to face.
Harry moved to the table and sank into the chair Sirius had vacated. For a moment, he simply sat there, staring at the grain of the wood beneath his hands.
After a while he looked up and his eyes lingered on the door through which Sirius had just exited. He imagined his godfather ascending the creaking staircase, each step carrying him closer to hopefully a path forward to freedom.
Then, he looked over towards Dumbledore who had opened his eyes and was looking warmly towards Harry.
"He'll be alright … right?" Harry asked, his voice hesitant and softer than he intended.
Dumbledore, seated at the end of the long wooden table, didn't respond immediately. He folded his hands and rested them on the table, his piercing blue eyes distant and thoughtful. The silence stretched, but Harry didn't press. He'd learned that Dumbledore's pauses often carried as much weight as his words and little could be done to hurry the headmaster to speak before he was ready.
Finally, Dumbledore turned his gaze to Harry, his expression somber. "It is one of the great injustices of life, Harry," he began, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "That the innocent so often suffer while the guilty seem to escape unscathed. It is a bitter truth, and one that no amount of magic can change."
Harry looked down, his fists clenching slightly at his sides. He hated the truth of those words.
"But," Dumbledore continued, his tone softening, "you may rest easy knowing that we are doing everything we can to ensure that this particular injustice is rectified. Madam Bones is a fair and discerning woman, and should she believe our account—and for the record, I see no reason she would not—then Sirius will have a powerful ally advocating on his behalf."
Dumbledore's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. "Madam Bones possesses a formidable integrity. Her reputation for impartiality and her strategic importance within the Ministry make her a valuable ally going forward. Even I would think twice about finding myself on the opposite side of an issue from her."
Despite the gravity of the conversation, Harry found himself smiling at Dumbledore's words. "She sounds like she's someone you respect a lot."
"I do," Dumbledore said with a slight nod. "Amelia Bones is a rare individual in our world—unyielding in her principles yet open to reason. She is, in many ways, the kind of leader the Ministry so desperately needs."
Harry nodded, his smile growing a little stronger. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "For everything you've done to help Sirius. It means a lot."
Dumbledore inclined his head, the warmth returning to his eyes. "This, Harry, is the least I can do. And for that, I can only apologize that it has taken this long for something to be done."
Harry's smile faltered as he thought of the years Sirius had spent suffering—first in Azkaban, then on the run, and most recently in the shadows of this house. "It's not your fault," he said quietly.
"Perhaps not entirely," Dumbledore conceded. "But I could have tried harder, or sooner. And for that, I carry some responsibility." He paused, studying Harry's expression. "Guilt is a heavy burden, Harry. But it is what we choose to do with that burden that defines us."
Harry nodded, his thoughts drifting to his godfather again. He hoped Sirius was holding up alright.
"For now," Dumbledore continued, "perhaps we should focus on what we can do and trust that all that can be done for Sirius is being done. There is still much work ahead of us, Harry, and it is best for us if we turn our attention to matters within our control. Your role in it will be crucial afterall."
Harry frowned, still preoccupied with Sirius and the uncertain outcome of his interview with Madam Bones. "Like what?" he asked, his surprise evident. "What do you mean?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, though his tone remained serious. "While you were with Madam Bones, I had a word with Sirius. Without giving away too much to him, I inquired whether he would allow us to remove a dark and dangerous object from this house—an object related to the Dark Lord."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "You … mentioned the Horcruxes to him?"
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "Not in so many words. Just that there was a dark item that I believe was related to Lord Voldemort, one which I hoped to remove from the house. Sirius did not even flinch at the suggestion that such an item might reside here and certainly had no objections to us removing the item in question. In fact, I believe his exact words were, 'You are free to remove any blasted item from this morally forsaken house.'"
Harry couldn't help but smirk at the quote, not having any trouble imagining that it was Sirius's voice that had said those words.
Dumbledore's smile softened. "So, let us take him at his word. We will retrieve the artifact, remove it from this house, and then return to Hogwarts where it can be safely kept until I am able to properly dispose of the item."
Harry hesitated, glancing toward the door that Sirius had disappeared through. "But what about Sirius? Shouldn't we wait for him to finish his interview?"
"I suspect that Madam Bones's thoroughness will make this a rather lengthy process," Dumbledore replied, his voice steady. "But do not worry, Harry. You will be allowed to return and see your godfather sooner rather than later. Though, if I am not mistaken, I imagine you would find a way to return regardless of my permission."
Harry flushed slightly but couldn't deny the truth in Dumbledore's observation.
"However," Dumbledore continued, "I promise to check in with both Sirius and Madam Bones this evening. The results of their discussion will guide our next steps with respect to your godfather. For now, though, let us focus on this immediate task."
Harry hesitated for a moment longer, his eyes drifting toward the door once more before finally nodding. "Alright," he said, his resolve firming.
"Excellent," Dumbledore said warmly, gesturing toward the hallway. "Shall we?"
Harry led the way through the dim corridors of Grimmauld Place, the oppressive atmosphere of the house pressing in around them. The walls seemed to whisper with the lingering voices of generations past, and the faint scent of dust and decay hung in the air.
They reached the drawing room door, and Harry stopped in front of it. His hand hovered over the doorknob, a strange unease settling over him. This room had always felt heavier than the others, as though the very air resisted being disturbed, at least now he knew why.
"This is it," Harry said, glancing at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore gave a single nod, his expression unreadable but intent. "You've done well, Harry, identifying this object. Let us proceed with caution."
Harry pushed open the door, the creak of the hinges echoing in the stillness. The drawing room was as dreary as ever, the furniture draped in dust-covered sheets and the walls lined with shadowy portraits of stern-faced ancestors.
The air in the drawing room was heavy, suffused with an oppressive silence broken only by the soft creak of the floorboards as Harry led Dumbledore to the far corner of the room. Dust motes floated lazily in the dim light filtering through the grimy windows, but Harry paid no attention to the gloom around him. His focus was solely on the glass cabinet before him.
"There," he said quietly, pointing to the second shelf of the curio filled cabinet.
Dumbledore stood beside him, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he surveyed the locket inside. The gold surface shimmered faintly, the serpent emblem engraved upon it seeming almost alive in the stillness.
"Remarkable," Dumbledore murmured. "Tom Riddle's penchant for theatrics extends even to his Horcruxes."
Harry didn't reply. He was too busy unlatching the glass door. It opened with a soft click, the stale air inside the cabinet rushing out to mingle with the room. Harry reached in, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the locket.
The moment he lifted it from its resting place, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Harry jerked back, startled, as Kreacher appeared directly beside him, his large, bulbous eyes filled with fury.
"NO!" Kreacher screeched, his voice grating and shrill. "The blood traitor must not take that! Put it down! PUT IT DOWN!"
"Kreacher!" Harry exclaimed, holding the locket close to his chest.
The house-elf's gnarled hands trembled as he pointed a crooked finger at Harry. "You filthy blood traitors! Always meddling, always breaking Kreacher's rules! Put that down this instant!"
Harry stepped back instinctively, his grip tightening on the locket. "Kreacher, listen to me. This thing—it's dangerous. We're going to …"
But Kreacher's rage only seemed to intensify. "Take it? Try and take it aren't you?" His voice cracked with incredulity, and his whole body shook with indignation. "You think you can just walk into this house and take this object? No! Kreacher forbids it!"
"Kreacher," Harry began, trying to sound calm, "you don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly!" Kreacher spat, his voice trembling with barely suppressed anger. "Kreacher has not completed his task from his true master. This locket cannot leave the house!"
Dumbledore stepped forward, his calm presence filling the room. "And who gave you this task, Kreacher?" he asked gently.
Kreacher turned on Dumbledore, his lips curling into a sneer. "Kreacher does not answer to you, old man. Kreacher answers to his masters—his true masters."
Harry felt a chill run through him. "You mean ... Regulus? The one who gave you this task."
At the name, Kreacher froze. His face twisted with pain, and his voice dropped to a low growl. "Master Regulus ... Master Regulus gave Kreacher an order. Kreacher tries everything to obey."
The atmosphere in the room shifted, heavy with tension. Harry met Kreacher's glare head-on, his voice calm but unwavering as he asked, "That order from Regulus ... it was to destroy the Horcrux, wasn't it?"
Kreacher froze, his gnarled hands gripping his tattered tea towel as his bulbous eyes widened. For a long moment, he said nothing, then slowly nodded, his expression twisting into one of deep sadness.
"Yes," Kreacher croaked, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Master Regulus gave Kreacher the locket and said... said it must be destroyed. That it was evil. Kreacher tried ... Kreacher tried everything. But Kreacher ... Kreacher failed." His voice cracked on the last word, and his whole body seemed to sag under the weight of his confession.
Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the elf. "You didn't fail," he said gently. "Regulus trusted you to protect the locket, and you did. You kept it safe until now. But it's not something you could destroy on your own."
Kreacher's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And what is your intention now? To steal it for yourself? To keep it as a trophy?"
"No," Harry said firmly. "We're going to destroy it. That's why we're here."
Kreacher stared at him, unblinking. "Destroy it?" he repeated, as though the very idea was inconceivable. "You can't destroy it. It's the Dark Lord's magic. Kreacher has tried everything. It is eternal!"
Harry shook his head. "You're wrong. It can be destroyed. We've managed it before. We've already destroyed one just like it."
Kreacher's mouth opened and closed in disbelief. "Done it before? No ... no, it's not possible."
"It is," Harry insisted. "And we're going to do it again. Kreacher, surely you've heard of me." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I'm the one who defeated Voldemort when I was a baby. And this is Professor Dumbledore," he gestured toward the older wizard, who stood silently beside him. "I'm sure you've heard of him from your previous masters. He's the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. Together, we can destroy this locket."
Kreacher looked between Harry and Dumbledore, his expression a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. For a long moment, he seemed lost in thought, his lips moving soundlessly as though arguing with himself.
Finally, he looked up at Dumbledore, who had remained quiet but observant. "Is it true?" Kreacher demanded, his voice shaking. "Can you destroy it?"
Dumbledore inclined his head, his expression gentle but serious. "It is true. Harry and I are fully capable of destroying this artifact. But we cannot do it without your cooperation. If you wish to honor Regulus's last wish, you must trust us."
Kreacher's hands wrung together as he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting between the two wizards. "Trust ... trust is hard. Kreacher trusted Master Regulus, and Master Regulus is gone."
Harry knelt down to Kreacher's level, speaking softly but firmly. "Regulus isn't gone, Kreacher. Not completely. He's here." He touched the locket lightly. "His desire to destroy the locket—it's his legacy. And the best way to honor that legacy is to help us destroy it. You don't have to do this alone anymore."
Kreacher's eyes filled with unshed tears as he whispered, "Master Harry thinks Kreacher can help?"
"I know you can," Harry said. "Just let us have the locket."
Dumbledore added, his tone calm and measured, "You were loyal to Regulus, Kreacher, and in that loyalty, you've shown remarkable strength. It takes great courage to protect something so dangerous, so dark, for so long. But the time has come for you to let us help you finish what Regulus started."
Kreacher stared at them for what felt like an eternity, his expression flickering between doubt and hope. Finally, his shoulders straightened, and he took a deep breath.
"If ... if you can destroy it," Kreacher said haltingly, "then you are truly worthy. Kreacher will give you the locket."
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thank you, Kreacher."
Kreacher held up a hand, his demeanor suddenly changing. He stood taller, his expression unexpectedly dignified. "No," he said firmly. "If you are truly going to do this, then Kreacher will help. Master Regulus trusted Kreacher with this mission, and Kreacher will see it through."
Harry exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, who gave him an approving nod.
Kreacher turned and gestured to the locket still clutched in Harry's hands. "Keep it safe," he said, his voice low but steady. "Destroy it quickly. And do not fail. For Master Regulus."
Harry nodded solemnly. "We won't fail. I promise."
Kreacher's eyes shone with a strange mix of hope and determination. "If you succeed," he said quietly, "then Master Regulus can finally rest in peace."
With that, Kreacher stepped aside, gesturing for Harry and Dumbledore to leave the room. As they entered the corridor, Harry glanced back to see Kreacher watching them, his expression unexpectedly serene.
"He's ... different," Harry murmured.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Hope has a way of transforming even the most embittered souls, Harry. Kreacher has held onto his pain for a long time. Perhaps now, he can finally begin to heal."
As Harry took a step down the corridor, he paused, glancing back toward Kreacher. The house-elf stood rooted in the middle of the space, his wrinkled face alight with an emotion Harry had rarely seen on him—hope. Kreacher's wide, almost eager eyes met Harry's, and the sight made Harry hesitate. He felt a pang of sympathy for the elf, but also an urge to say something more.
"Kreacher," Harry said, his voice soft but firm.
Kreacher straightened slightly. "Yes, Master Harry?"
"It wasn't just our decision to take the locket," Harry began carefully, watching the way Kreacher hung on his every word. "It was Sirius's. He's the one who decided it should be removed from the house, so we could prepare to destroy it."
The light in Kreacher's eyes dimmed for a split second, replaced by confusion. His mouth opened as if to protest, but Harry quickly turned away, biting his lip to suppress the laughter that threatened to escape. The image of Kreacher, having a chat with Sirius later was almost too much.
This is definitely going to make things interesting for Sirius, Harry thought as he stepped into the hall again, closing the door behind him.
Dumbledore waited at the base of the stairs, his expression calm and unreadable. "Shall we?" he asked gently.
Harry nodded, schooling his features as he followed the headmaster to the front door. Outside Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take his arm.
The moment they Apparated back to Hogwarts, the familiar cool air of the castle washed over Harry, and he felt a wave of relief. They landed in a quiet, dimly lit corridor near the headmaster's office, and Harry was grateful they didn't encounter anyone along the way. He wasn't in the mood for awkward questions or prying eyes.
Dumbledore gave the password to the gargoyle—"Nimbus Nougat"—and they ascended the spiraling staircase to his office. Once inside, Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take a seat while he moved to his desk and carefully placed the locket on the polished wood surface.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Dumbledore reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of thin gloves, which he donned before picking up the locket. His bright blue eyes examined it closely, and Harry watched as his expression shifted from curiosity to deep thought.
"This Horcrux," Dumbledore began, turning it over in his hands, "is remarkably stable compared to the other we encountered so far."
Harry leaned forward slightly. "What do you mean?"
Dumbledore set the locket down gently, removing one glove before pausing and leaning back in his chair. "Theoretically, Horcruxes are inherently incredibly unstable objects. They are created through the act of splitting one's soul, which is a deeply unnatural and violent process. It was noted that most Horcruxes exude a palpable sense of malevolence because of that. Yet this one ..." He paused, gesturing toward the locket. "Its dark magic is far less pronounced. If not for your word and Kreacher's reaction, I would not have guessed it to be a Horcrux."
Harry frowned. "You think it's ... safer?"
"Not safer, precisely," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "It is still an abomination. But its creation appears to have been more ... precise. Deliberate. I suspect this Horcrux was made earlier in Tom Riddle's life, when his understanding of magic was perhaps purer, if not less malicious. It would explain its relative stability."
He picked up the locket again with his gloved hand, holding it up to the light. "The Diadem of Ravenclaw, by contrast, practically screamed its dark nature. Even amidst the chaotic and unpredictable magic of the Room of Requirement along with all the magical items it contained, I could sense there was a dark artifact in that room almost immediately. This locket, however ..." He trailed off, lowering it back to the desk.
"... you wouldn't have noticed it?" Harry guessed.
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. I could likely have spent days at a time within Grimmauld Place without suspecting anything more sinister than the usual traces of dark magic lingering from the Black family's legacy."
Harry let that sink in. "Do you think that makes it harder to destroy?"
Dumbledore's lips twitched into a faint smile. "An astute question, Harry. Stability does not necessarily correlate with resilience. However, it does suggest that we must be cautious in our approach. As with all Horcruxes, the magic binding the fragment of soul to this object will resist destruction violently, perhaps being more difficult simply because of it being more stable when it had been created."
Harry leaned back slightly in his chair, watching as Dumbledore carefully placed the locket back onto his desk, its surface gleaming ominously in the flickering candlelight. Harry shuddered at the memory of the diary and the basilisk venom that had destroyed it. "And you're planning to destroy it here? Are you going to destroy it now?"
Harry asked, his voice quieter than he intended.
Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Not here, and not now," he said, his tone calm but firm. "I imagine the room you showed me earlier—the Room of Requirement—would make a suitable area for the disposal of Horcruxes. Its versatility, as well as its ability to adapt to our needs, makes it uniquely valuable for such a task."
Dumbledore continued, "However, I must admit, I am not yet ready to attempt the destruction of this Horcrux. The ordeal with the diadem took its toll. I believe I need a few more days to recover fully before I am prepared to face this object's defenses."
Harry frowned, remembering Dumbledore's blackened hand. "Recover? Are you still hurt from the diadem? Was it dangerous?"
Dumbledore offered a small, reassuring smile. "I am not in any immediate danger, Harry. The magic we are dealing with here, however, is ... taxing, even for an experienced wizard. You have no cause to worry for my health, but I must ensure that I am at my peak before undertaking this task. Rest assured, once I am ready, I will dispose of this as soon as I am able."
Harry hesitated, then spoke quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Can I be there when you destroy it?"
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, and a chuckle escaped him. "Ah, Harry, do you doubt my magical ability? Do you fear I am unable to handle this on my own?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the question, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I mean, come on, Professor. You're the most powerful wizard alive, and you've been so for longer than I've been alive. I'm not stupid enough to think I'm anywhere near your level. But that's not the point."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's tone was amused, but his eyes were sharp with curiosity.
Harry leaned forward, his expression serious now. "These Horcruxes are dangerous, and Voldemort was ... is ... unbelievably clever. Even if you're confident—and I know you are—there's safety in numbers. If something goes wrong, it's better to have someone there to help."
Dumbledore's smile softened, and he regarded Harry in silence for several moments. He seemed to weigh Harry's words carefully before speaking. "A well-thought-out argument, Harry," he finally said, inclining his head slightly. "I must admit, there is wisdom in your caution. I suppose having an extra set of eyes present would be a prudent decision. Very well, you may join me when I am ready to proceed. However ..."
Harry straightened, waiting for the condition he knew was coming.
"You must promise to follow my instructions precisely," Dumbledore said, his voice firm. "Whatever I ask you to do, you must do so without hesitation or question. The destruction of a Horcrux is not only dangerous but unpredictable. We must be prepared for anything."
"I promise," Harry said without hesitation.
Dumbledore smiled again, though this time there was a trace of something more solemn in his expression. "Good. Then we have a deal."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling over them. Harry's eyes drifted to the locket, its surface gleaming innocently under the light. It was strange to think that something so small, so seemingly mundane, could contain a piece of Voldemort's soul—a fragment of pure, destructive evil.
"Professor," Harry said hesitantly, breaking the silence. "Do you think ... do you think he ever regretted it? Splitting his soul like that?"
Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully. "Regret, Harry, is a uniquely human emotion. It requires self-awareness, empathy, and the capacity to reflect on one's actions. Unfortunately I believe that Tom Riddle, by the time he became Lord Voldemort, had stripped himself of much of what made him human. It is unlikely he felt regret, though perhaps he experienced something akin to it when he realized the consequences of his choices."
Harry nodded slowly, absorbing the answer.
Dumbledore rose from his chair, picking up the locket once more. He placed it inside a small, locked chest on a shelf behind his desk. As he turned back to Harry, he gestured toward the door.
"Come, Harry. It has been a long day, and I suspect you could use some rest. There is little more to be done tonight."
Harry stood, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He followed Dumbledore to the door, pausing as they reached the threshold.
"Professor?" he asked, glancing back at the chest containing the locket. "Do you think we're getting closer? To stopping him?"
Dumbledore's gaze was steady, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of resolve and compassion. "Every step we take, Harry, brings us closer to that goal. And with allies such as yourself, I have no doubt we shall succeed."
The common room was quiet when Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower. The soft glow of the fire painted the room in hues of orange and gold, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Most of his housemates had already gone to bed, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts as he sank into one of the comfortable armchairs near the hearth.
He stared into the flames, his mind replaying the events of the day. The interview with Madam Bones had been nerve-wracking, but it also felt like a turning point. There was hope now, a glimmer that Sirius might finally be cleared of the unjust accusations that had haunted him for so long.
But that hope came with a heavy dose of anxiety. Madam Bones seemed fair and reasonable, but the wizarding world's politics were anything but. Would they believe Sirius? Would they let the truth finally come to light?
Then there was the Horcrux. The locket sat securely locked away in Dumbledore's office, a fragment of Voldemort's soul, radiating its malevolence even when dormant. Progress had been made, but the journey ahead still felt daunting. What dangers awaited them in the process?
Harry let out a long breath, resting his head against the back of the chair. The fire crackled softly, filling the silence as he reflected on how surreal everything felt. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders, but beneath it all, there was a faint sense of relief.
For the first time in a long while, it felt like they were moving forward.
Harry wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, lost in thought, when a familiar voice broke through the quiet.
"Harry?"
He looked up and felt a warm smile spread across his face as Hermione approached. She was carrying a stack of books, her hair slightly frizzier than usual, as though she'd been running her fingers through it absentmindedly.
He stood quickly, meeting her halfway, at the table she had deposited her books on. "Hey," he said softly before leaning in to kiss her.
Hermione responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as their lips met. It was a brief but tender moment, leaving both of them smiling as they pulled apart.
"Hi," she said warmly, her cheeks tinged with pink.
"It's good to see you," Harry replied, his hand finding hers. "Come sit with me?"
She nodded, and they made their way to the armchairs by the fire. As Hermione settled in beside him, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how her presence seemed to ground him, easing the tension he hadn't even realized he was holding.
"So," she began, turning to him with a curious look. "What did you get up to today? I didn't see you after you disappeared after class."
Harry hesitated for a moment, trying to decide where to start. "It's been ... eventful," he said finally. "I had an interview with Madam Bones."
"Madam Bones?" Hermione's eyes lit up, and she leaned forward eagerly. "Was it … about Sirius?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Dumbledore arranged it. She's looking into his case, and ... well, it went okay, I think. She asked a lot of questions, but she seemed fair. I just hope it's enough to make a difference."
Hermione reached out, placing her hand over his. "Harry, that's amazing," she said earnestly. "If there's anything I can do to help, you know I'll be right there with you."
Her unwavering support brought a lump to Harry's throat. He squeezed her hand, his voice quiet but sincere. "Thanks, Hermione. That means a lot."
She smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "I'm always here for you," she said simply.
For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire enveloping them. Harry felt some of the weight of the day begin to lift, replaced by the quiet reassurance of Hermione's presence.
Eventually, he broke the silence. "How was your evening?" he asked, glancing at her with a smile.
Hermione's face lit up, her grin spreading wide. "It was lovely, actually. I spent it in the library."
Kind Regards,
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If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.
Story Note 1 – Looks like the interviews are going well! As long as Sirius doesn't say anything to upset Madam Bones I would imagine they are about to have someone in their corner to help exonerate Sirius. Fingers crossed the interview goes well!
Story Note 2 – Had fun writing the Kreacher part of the chapter, hope it came off well. And I imagine that Kreacher might appear again in the story.
Story Note 3 – Looking forward to the next chapter where they dispose of the locket … hopefully it goes off as well as the destruction of the Diadem went …
Story Note 4 – And as always really enjoyed writing the Harry and Hermione part of the chapter. Just the quiet acceptance and full support from someone who cares for you and has your back! After the 'hopeful' destruction of the locket I imagine there will be several chapters building on the budding relationships which I hope everyone enjoys. I think I'm doing an ok job balancing the action and the relationships and the other plots that are going on (although do feel free to let me know) without going into one too much for too long at the expense of the others.
Thanks to those of you out to those of you who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you enjoy them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or reach out to me directly.
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Something has been going on with my stories and not sure where the comments are on this story so can't see them for this one yet but I will update this chapter with responses to comments as soon as I get it sorted out. Although honestly its something probably super simple like turning the computer off and on.
But in the meanwhile - Thanks so much for the reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy the story going forward.
