Disclaimer: Anything that rings a bell belongs to J.K Rowling

Chapter Two: Her, Horcruxes, Hallows.

26th August 2005

Harry's POV

I took two steps back at the mention of her name, physically knocked back by a flood of memories.

"What?" Hermione voiced the words that I couldn't.

Fleur glanced behind her, shutting the door. "Merde." The tall, blonde witch swore in her native tongue. She clearly let slip something she was not at liberty to say, which was quite a big deal in her line of work. She was the senior undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and her discretion was vital. "Why is she crying?" The blonde looked accusatorially at me, guilty at breaking confidence, but neither of us were about to let her change the subject that easily.

"What do you mean by Ky's missing?" It's like I was transported back in time, to eight years ago, running into an empty Hospital Wing after attending Dumbledore's funeral to find that his only living grandchild, and my girlfriend – was gone.

"Kingsley iz going to kill me. Seet down. Sit." Fleur's accent grew more subtle after a decade in England, but stress impacted her linguistic abilities, it's why she often spent full evenings speaking in French when looking after her children.

So she was this stressed…this can't be good.

Hermione took a seat on Ginny's bed but I remained standing, frozen at the window. My thoughts storming through my mind… Malfoy's visit, fewer aurors here tonight, Hawaii…

"There was some weird 'chatter' in Knockturn alley yesterday. An informant brought it to the Ministry's attention that people were after Ky…Ky's remains."

I turned, my heart seemed to grow uncomfortably large in my chest and breathing became hard.

Her remains… as if flesh and bone were her remains.

I was her remains.

31st March 1998

"Harry, Harry. We have to…" Bill didn't finish the sentence.

I felt as if I was taking everything in from a distance. That my hands, weren't my hands. That the hands that were holding Kyrianna Dumbledore belonged to someone else. I couldn't feel her…whatever this thing was, it wasn't her. She was never cold. She was never pale. Her white shirt ran scarlet in the rain, the knife that stopped her heart lying innocently on the floor next to her.

My fingers went to her pulse again – maybe they were wrong.

My Ky couldn't be dead.

Not my Ky.

I looked across at Hermione, she must have a spell, Bill must be wrong, Hermione can fix this. However, the shock at Ky's state and her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange had the brunette witch wracked over with sobs. She was completely incoherent, blubbering Ky's name, until the world went silent.

Hermione had passed out.

"Harry. You need to lay her to rest. It's been hours. Harry. It's not safe to be outside for this long. There are extra wards on the cottage itself. Please, we need to move you lot inside."

Why would he think that I would care about any of that now.

"'Arry" It was Fleur. "It iz not good for her soul for her not to be put to rest. It iz not good for her! A witch's body iz magical. And we need to lay her down, so she can be at peace. She needs you to let her go, Harry, s'il vous plaît."

Fleur's soft hand managed to do what Bill's strength could not, and she had me release my grip on Ky.

The next few minutes passed in a haze.

I found a spot that sat just inside the wards that were placed on Shell Cottage. It was a distance from the cottage itself, practically on the beach.

I insisted on digging the grave manually. I'm not sure why.

Ron, Bill and Dean helped.

I knew this wouldn't be her permanent resting place, but I imagined she would like to be close to the sea. When all this was over, we'd move her to Hogwarts, where she could be with her family.

Her family.

Was I not her family?

Bill had conjured a simple white box. We set the box into the ground. Dean and I stood in the grave itself, while Bill and Ron lowered it to us. I was surprised at how light it was, maybe Bill had put a featherlight charm on it. Dean struggled out of the hole, and I just stood there.

For one maddening moment, I wanted to lie there too. In this hole.

It was Ron who pulled me out, he physically dragged me up and I weakly fought him and I easily lost.

I was barely cognisant for what happened next. Bill began muttering spells. Fleur was explaining what they were, but nothing went in.

What did they think was going to happen?

That thing in the ground was not Ky.

Ky was loud laughter that could break silences, and a smile that could break hearts. She was a perfectly placed kiss, and a moan so deep and pure it could make a body erupt with pleasure.

Ky was life itself.

They eventually went back to the cottage, but I didn't budge. My right thumb caressed the inside of my left wrist, remembering that this was the last place her lips had touched.

I don't know when I passed out, but the next morning I woke up in a bed that felt like a glacier, a fire burning in the heart of the room.

And then, I wept.

I shook my head, bringing me back to the present, I needed to focus. I couldn't open this box that had been taped shut by guilt and blame.

"What for!" Hermione gasped. "Why would anyone tamper with the remains of the…" Hermione struggled to say the 'd' word. We both did. Choosing to talk in circles about Ky's absence, as if she was just on vacation somewhere.

"Well. I don't know specifics, but surely dark deeds. It's why it's so important to ward the grave and perform the death rites. Not that wards are unbreakable, though the Dumbledores' graves are probably the most secure ones in the Wizarding World, especially seeing as Albus Dumbledore's grave was tampered with once before. It's been a bit of a logistical nightmare recently." Fleur turned to me, "We didn't want to get you lot involved, but for a little while there have been talks about moving the Dumbledores' graves to a more secure location."

"Where's more secure than Hogwarts?"

"Well some governing body members at the school think it's a bit macabre to have an island graveyard. McGonagall has been fighting it for a while, with the full support of the Minister –"

"Kingsley should have –"

"The Minister was dealing with it; he didn't think it worth it to make you worry about something that was not an issue as yet. There were no concrete plans to move them, the motion never gained a majority vote in the governing body. If it did, he did plan on telling you – he gave his word."

I couldn't make myself listen clearly to what Fleur was saying, even if she took on a placating tone.

It was as if I was trapped back in 1998.

I touched the pulse on my left wrist to calm down.

"Why do you do that." She was yet to raise her head, her lips still at my left wrist.

"You don't like it?"

I smirked; her grey eyes filled with mischief as she sat up, turning away from my reclining body. We hadn't seen each other in almost a month. I had been hunting horcruxes and Ky had been keeping people safe.

Well…that's what she called it. I called it the reckless tracking of Katerina Karetnikov and Alya Bellamy for blood thirsty vengeance.

But I didn't want to fight tonight.

"I love all the things you do with your lips."

She laughed and I felt full on it. I hadn't had a proper meal in weeks, and she had brought us some supplies, but I was hungrier for her than I was for food.

"When we had sex for the first time, your left hand was planted next to my face. And I turned and my lips accidentally brushed just where your pulse was. I could feel your heart beat and, well." She shrugged, her naked shoulders covered by her dark mane, and I leaned forward and kissed the middle of her back, just because I could. "I really liked feeling your life at my lips. It sounds a bit silly."

"It's not." My throat caught as I said it and I buried my face in her neck. I didn't want to waste a night on tears. "I love listening to your heartbeat too." I turned her face to mine, so I could look into her beautiful stormy grey orbs as I said the next words. "Your life matters more to me than anything else."

I needed her to understand that. I needed her to know that when she flung herself in front of curses claiming it was for defence or barged into death eater infested manors to save captives, that she wasn't just gambling her own life. I'd follow her anywhere. I may be conflicted about whether to pursue Horcruxes or Hallows, but they were both easily second to Her. I needed her to know that even if she had lost her biological family, that she was not alone.

The tiny flecks of violet danced in circles around her grey orbs and she didn't respond.

And with one swift movement, she did.

Her bare thigh swung over me, and she straddled me without resistance, and I let her claim me fully.

It felt like a special skill we had, how swiftly and perfectly we fit.

My moans were stifled by her neck, while hers by my hand. We were in a clearing behind the tent, and even if Hermione and Ky's guardian, Silvestre, knew full well what we were doing, it was best not to embarrass either of them.

I moved my lips down her left arm to her pulse on her wrist and I kissed it.

I smiled as it quickened, her hips matching its pace, and my heart thumped in my chest, wanting to escape completely, to leap out and latch onto her. Sometimes I felt like it really did, like a bit jumped out and fused to hers as our bodies moved in such synchrony that I couldn't tell where she ended and I began. It was that bit of my heart that had her name branded on it with a fire that almost devoured me whole.

When she'd leave, she'd take that fire with her, and for a while, nothing could warm me.

And for a long time, nothing did.

It took me four years to even kiss another girl, let alone make love to one. There were times when I wondered it wasn't just a bit of my heart that Ky had taken with her to the grave, but the whole damn thing.

In the worst stages of my grief I wondered whether a bit of her remained with me, and I wanted it to be true. That some part of Ky remained alive in me, in some physical way.

Like the inverse of a horcrux. An object stored in a living soul, that only the purest and truest love could breathe life back into it.

I hadn't had thoughts like that for a very long time, and it wasn't a good thing that they were resurfacing.

"Harry?"

"What?" I looked up, startled out of my reverie by Hermione and Fleur, twin looks of concern. "Sorry, what do you mean by Ky is missing?"

"Well after the tip off, the Minister and Mr Robards acted swiftly. Mr Robards updated Roger, and he tried contacting you but you were not reachable yesterday. They felt you would understand their urgency in needing to move the Dumbledores' remains to safety, but…when they dug up Ky's grave…Harry I am so sorry. There was nothing in there. They were late. Kingsley thought it best to wait till we had more information to tell you, especially with the wedding. I'm so sorry Hermione. They've got a task-force on it already, that's why there are less Aurors on patrol tonight. They're questioning everyone, death eaters inside and outside of Azkaban."

That explains why Malfoy was at the ministry in the midst of his mourning period…

"I'll tell you. I'm telling you everything I can. Trust me."

Roger must have been told not to tell me. What did they think I would do?

What should I do?

I stopped…

"Fleur, did you say the informants said they were after the Dumbledores' remains? Or specifically Ky's?"

Her dark blue eyes narrowed in thought and Hermione stood, her hand at her heart at the look on my face.

"I think they said Ky's…Harry!"

I took off.

Ginny's room was on the first floor, and I found myself in the thankfully empty kitchen in seconds. It would be quicker to floo there than run to the apparition point.

I charged for the fireplace, ignoring Hermione and Fleur's calls, suddenly feeling as if there was no time.

In a flash of green, I was gone.

If my pure selfishness resulted in Ky's remains being used for something nefarious…I couldn't come back from that.

I clambered out the hearth and crossed the familiar room in quick strides.

The sea raged in the distance, the moon conducting it in a fearsome dance. I made quick work of the path.

I had walked it so many times I probably didn't need the lunar light for help.

A year after Ky's death, a memorial was held, so as to say our goodbyes and mark the transference of her grave at Shell Cottage to the Island at Hogwarts.

I had taken the responsibility to move Ky to Hogwarts. In all honesty, I had requested it. It felt like it should be me.

However, when I got to the grave, all those years ago…I couldn't do it.

I was consumed by an overwhelming feeling of wrongness.

At the time, I allowed grief to make a lot of my decisions, and none of them made much sense.

Truthfully…it felt too final. Laying her to rest with her family.

It was the right thing to do, of course, but for once, I didn't want to do what was right.

I wanted to do what was easy.

And it was much easier to not have to uncover her coffin and look at the reality of that thing that was not her. So I asked for a closed coffin memorial, and nobody objected.

People still got to say their goodbyes. And…I had an excuse for not really bidding her farewell…You couldn't say goodbye to someone who wasn't really there after all.

And then…visiting her grave at Hogwarts was so very public. If she remained here, I'd just need an excuse to visit Shell Cottage. Which wasn't hard…Teddy spent a lot of time here as Andromeda lived nearby. And then I started dating Ginny…

A sliver of guilt rolled down my back at that, but I had reached the grave.

It didn't look disturbed, but that would be easy to achieve if you had tampered with it. I reached into my pocket for my wand but found it empty…shit. I had it in my coat…which I had left in Ginny's room.

"You're quite predictable, Potter."

I stilled, my back to the voice.

A memory flashed before me, one that was not my own. My father, wandless, running towards Riddle.

Over the years I wondered if things would have been different if he had remembered his wand that night, and I grappled with this in secret. I even harboured some resentment towards him for doing such a thing.

What kind of wizard forgets his wand?

I finally understood.

It was not bravado, or recklessness, or foolishness.

It was simply a wizard so in love, his purpose eclipsed self-preservation.

And with that thought, I turned around.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that! Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for reading.

Kalina