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SIYE Time:15:03 on 29th March 2024
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Normalcy
By notadryeeye

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP
Characters:None
Genres: Tragedy
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1174
Summary: Harry gets one night that gives him a glimpse into what life could be like with the Dursley's. But events turn for the worse and both Harry and the wizarding world are left wondering what it's consquences mean for the future of the world.
Hitcount: Story Total: 500811; Chapter Total: 11148
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
I don't own anything. JK Rowling owns the entire Potter Universe. No copyright infringement is intended. I just write fan fics for fun and to take up time between books.




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Chapter 38: Duality (or the chapter that had me throwing things at my computer)

It was a soft tickling on his nose that woke Harry from his peaceful and deep slumber and from an especially pleasant dream that involved a particular red head. He wanted to hang onto the last vestiges of this heavenly vision, but the tickling continued and he found himself unable to stay in dream land any longer.

He opened his eyes, finding his vision blurry and unfocused as it always was when he woke up without his glasses on. But instead of seeing the fuzzy outlines of his surroundings, Harry's field of view was colored red. Harry blinked his eyes sleepily, attempting to ward away it away. But he found he could not shake it and that his nose was still terribly irritated and itchy.

Simultaneously, Harry looked down towards his chest and reached up with a hand to his face. As he did this, it became clearly evident as to what...or rather...who had caused him to break from his peaceful sleep.

His hand brushed against the soft tendrils of fire red hair that where spilling over his chest and into his face. He swept the auburn locks away from his nose so that he could breathe properly and looked down to find Ginny's soft and beautiful face nestled comfortably against the side of his chest. As he became more aware and awake, he could feel her soft breath against his bare skin as she snored near silently, still quite asleep and oblivious to having woken him up.

Harry took this moment of quiet reverence to study Ginny as she slumbered on in his arms, as his right was draped carefully around her, the comforter used as a buffer between skin and metal.

Her usually fierce and stubborn nature was somehow masked as she lay there unaware. Every feature of her face was perfect, even down to the light dusting of freckles that crossed the bridge of her petite nose and spilled softly onto her porcelain cheeks.

Harry couldn't help but notice how delicate and small she seemed as he held her. It was odd in a way, seeing as Ginny was a very powerful and spirited witch, whose own temper could rival and perhaps surpass even his own at times. But he could not escape just how perfectly her diminutive frame fit against his much longer and lankier one and how a strong sense of protectiveness overcame him as he watched her sleep uninterrupted.

His gaze traveled further down to where her arm was wrapped around his mid-section. He followed the length of her arm to her slender fingers, which were wrapped in the comforter that had become tangled between their two bodies.

Even they suddenly seemed much more fragile and slight than he had ever realized or noticed before. Unlike his own hand, which was worn from years of quidditch and a childhood full of chores and manual labor, hers were smooth and unblemished, perfected by the shine of clear polish that she wore on her nails.

Harry couldn’t help but smile as he recalled having watched her paint her nails one time a deep crimson. He remembered that he had had a hard time sitting still, watching those thin, nimble fingers do their work without reaching out and touching them and helping himself. Even now, a slight shiver of goose pimples raised on his bare skin as he thought of all the places those beautiful hands had been and how wonderful they really were. Especially when they were paying particular attention to him. Another sort of shiver shot through him at this thought and he shifted slightly, worried that his straying mind might inadvertently cause Ginny to wake up, seeing as the rest of her frame was draped quite precariously over his lower half.

But it seemed as though his musings, fueled by his early morning hormones, had gone unnoticed and Ginny remained sleeping.

Harry sighed deeply and quite contently, melting back farther into the pillows and listening for any morning sounds that might be coming from the dormitory outside their little four-poster world. He heard an occasional shuffle of feet and click of the door handle, all telltale signs of sleepy students making there way down to breakfast. Not that any of these noises or indications worried him. He had the utmost faith in Ginny's silencing and Imperturbable charms and knew they were quite safe within the confines of her bed.

So with his mind free of any outside interference, Harry took one more good look at the young woman quite entwined with himself. It just seemed so perfect, too perfect, to wake and have her here in his arms, anything and everything else so far from his mind.

'This is how I want it to be,' he thought to himself with a soft smile as he parted away Ginny's hair to reveal her face so he could look upon her. 'This is is how it should be.'

He'd given it a bit of thought over the past months to what it would be like to truly call Ginny his own. And moments like this made those thoughts and desires even harder to ignore or push aside.

Everything else in his life was a mess. Everything seemed so dark and uncertain. His future was filled only with dread of the unknown; a tangled, thorny thicket of despair and malice that was fueled by a desire of the utmost, contemputal evil. Every step he took was an uncertain one and may even be the last one he ever takes. Every second, every minute, every day, seemed to bring new challenges and test him even further than he thought possible. And there was seemingly no end in sight to this nightmare he felt trapped in, that even his want to bring peace to this world and to his own life, could not bring ultimate solace to.

But with Ginny, it was different. Even being in the room with her made things seem a little less bleak. Being with her was like being in a whole separate world, unaware of how horrible existence really was. Even the canopy they were concealed and hidden under did not seem attached at all to the life filled with hardship and enduring they had both been experiencing. Lying here, holding each other, melting into the bed and letting a little sunlight filter in through the cracks of the curtain....this was easy. This was heaven and a bit of utopia that Harry had never felt possible for himself.

He always wondered what he had ever done to deserve the kind of life that fate and destiny had dropped on him. But he also had found himself wondering fleetingly what he had done to deserve this also. With everything else in his life seemingly touched by evil and darkness, he found it almost deceiving and unnatural for him to be able to indulge and partake in something so pure and good as a relationship with a woman of such breathtaking beauty and spirited personality as Ginny.

Having never experienced something so right–so perfect–it struck a bit of fear in him that it might all very well be just another cruel trick fate was playing on him. That this happiness he was experiencing as he and Ginny were together, was only a temporary ruse to satisfy him before life really went to hell on him. It made him so afraid that he might lose control of this too, like most everything else it seemed. He could stand to lose an arm, his eye color, but to lose her, to lose this, that would be worse than all that...worse than death even.

In his mind-wandering, he had been absentmindedly stroking the hair near Ginny's forehead, unconsciously relishing in the feel of it between his fingers as he did so. He also had no idea that this action had caused Ginny to begin to stir and wake up from her slumber. It was only when she let out a shuddering yawn against his chest that he was shaken back to reality. Ginny continued to stretch out her tired muscles and blink back the sleep in her eyes, trying to coax her body back into consciousness. She must not have realized that it was Harry she was currently using as a pillow because she took a look around as if unfamiliar with her surroundings and her position before she looked down at where her head had been resting.

It must have finally registered and things clicked into place as Ginny followed the thin patch of hair on Harry's chest up to his neck, finally meeting his face, where he was smiling admiringly down at her.

"Hi," she whispered, her voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.

"Morning beautiful," he smiled back hugging her tight and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Did you sleep ok?" Ginny asked suddenly, sounding a bit concerned and scrutinizing him carefully.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "Really well actually. I just woke up a bit ago and didn't want to disturb you. You looked pretty peaceful there," Harry explained.

A faint blush crept up Ginny's features and she grinned appreciatively back at him, snuggling back into his side and wrapping both her arms around him.

"I don't know how I slept so wonderfully," Ginny said with a hint of a smirk as she traced small circles with her fingers against Harry's side. "I was lying on a really hard and lumpy pillow the entire night--quite uncomfortable actually. And I kept dreaming that a snake kept trying to snatch away my bed covers--so cold," she teased mercilessly.

"I am not hard and lumpy," Harry replied indignantly, not taking any heed to how silly that statement had sounded. "And it is not in my power to control my tendency to be a cover hog while I'm sleeping. I made no guarantees I'd be fair and share with you when you invited me to sleep over," he continued to tease back.

Ginny could only manage a snort of laughter as she rested her chin near his sternum and looked up at him in adoration.

“What?” Harry questioned as he watched her appraising him carefully.

“Nothing,” Ginny replied simply and airily. “It’s just–” Ginny broke off. But Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly, signaling for her to go on.

“It’s just–I never thought we’d be here–where we are right now,” she continued.

“Well we are,” Harry replied firmly. “You’re here. I’m here. We’re here. And I think it’s spectacular.”

“Yeah…but sometimes it seems hard to believe that this is all real–that you’re mine,” Ginny added.

“There you go with the possessive thing again Miss Weasley,” Harry joked. “As if I’m some sort of object that can be willed and wanted any which way you please.”

“Prat,” Ginny muttered humorously.

Ginny smiled at Harry’s playful bantering, but sighed heavily as she lay her head back down on his chest.

“But seriously,” Harry said firmly, placing his left hand under Ginny’s chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. “This is exactly where we’re both supposed to be. This is really how things are and for right now–and as long as I can see–it will be. I’m yours…completely yours. You gave me your heart a long time ago…and now you have mine.”

“I love you,” Ginny said as she scooted forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips for his kind and meaningful words.

“I love you too,” Harry replied when they had broken apart again. “And I have to thank you again for not ever giving up on me.”

“You’re welcome,” Ginny replied matter-of-factly. “And I don’t ever plan on it.”

Harry smiled back serenely before a yawn of his own interrupted the silent exchange.

“What time do you think it is?” Ginny questioned as her own sudden curiosity got the best of her.

“Don’t know…expect it’s probably mid-morning. I thought I heard a few of your roommates going down to breakfast,” Harry replied. “Maybe I should think about heading back to the hospital wing? Ron and Hermione are bound to wonder where I’ve gotten to.”

“They have the Marauder’s Map,” Ginny stated with a smirk. “They know exactly where you are.”

With this new bit of information, Harry made to make a little separation between himself and Ginny, knowing that if either Ron or Hermione were watching the map, they would see Ginny’s indicator on top of his. And he knew what conclusions and assumptions they’d come to as to why the map had them in that position.

“Stop,” Ginny said with a satisfied and quite amused smile. “We don’t do anything worse than what they get up to. And besides I think we’ve been rather good considering I’ve had you in my bed the entire night and morning, quite hidden and concealed from everyone, and I haven’t even tried to have my way with you.”

Harry examined her words for a moment before realizing that he was stupid to care about Ron and Hermione’s reaction to it looking as though the map version of himself was shagging Ginny.

“How come it’s always you that gets to initiate that sort of thing?” Harry questioned without realizing exactly what he was saying. Ginny gave him a questioning look in lue of her own confusion. "How come I never get to have my way with you. It's always you having your way with me or you devouring me. Why isn't it ever the other way around?" he added in clarification.

Ginny took a moment to think about his questions...or perhaps to decide if he was serious or not or if she should laugh at him.

"Because..." she started slowly. “Because you're a gentleman. And you wait and respect the woman's wishes...not letting your hormones and instincts get the best of you."

"O-k," Harry managed, suppressing his own amused look. "At least you didn't say it was because I was slow or stupid," he added slyly, earning him a good-natured punch in the side.

"Well I wasn't about to state the obvious," Ginny said in a quite dubious manner.

"Ouch," Harry shot back in a mock-affronted tone. "And to think I was going to--" he trailed off, obviously trying to get a rise out of Ginny.

"What?" Ginny pressed, letting her curiosity get the best of her.

"Ohhh...nothing," Harry said in an uncharacteristically sing-song type voice.

"What?" she asked again, sitting up and challenging him to continue.

"Never mind...you ruined my punch line," Harry added, looking highly deflated. "I can't possibly go on."

"Huh?" Ginny blurted out. "Come on...what were you going to do?"

"Nope...the moment has passed," Harry replied melodramatically.

"Would this help?" Ginny asked as she leaned forward and placed both hands against his chest, pushing him to the bed as she kissed him quite soundly.

"Yeah--a bit," Harry breathed out when they had resurfaced again.

"Now what were you going to say?" Ginny pressed, still holding him down.

"I was going to ask--before you so readily insulted me--" Harry began with a smirk. "If--well--if you'd like me to show you...just how much of a gentleman I can be?" he finished, his voice dropping lower and lower with each word.

A broad and dangerous grin began to sweep over Ginny's features as she caught his drift.

"And you don't care if Ron and Hermione are watching the map?" Ginny questioned playfully. "And you aren't worried that my silencing charms might not be as up to snuff as you might think and my roommates might get interested and barge in?"

"I have total faith in your silencing charms. And if I seem to have misplaced that faith–I’m really good at memory charms,” Harry teased with a huge smile, kissing her at the same time softly on the lips.

“And as far as Ron and Hermione are concerned…If they ask--I’ll tell them I was being…a…complete…gentleman,” he added in a low growl as he deepened the kiss and both lost any semblance of self control they were still clinging to.

--------------------------------- ----


A little over an hour later, Harry and Ginny found themselves in the small anti-chamber they had met in the previous day before they had gone to the Headmistress’s office to destroy the locket. Both were showered (after Ginny had convinced Harry that he could sneak into the boys shower room with the cloak or as a snake and take one, seeing as he hadn’t had a proper wash in a few days). Ginny had changed into clean clothes, Harry was still in his change from the previous day.

Ron and Hermione were already there, enjoying a breakfast of eggs, toast, and various sausages and bacon that they had been told Dobby had delivered from the kitchens.

Both Ron and Hermione looked as they too had had a late start to the day and said nothing of whether they had been watching or had noticed anything particular on the Marauders Map. Though both Harry and Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that they had been too busy to have observed anything themselves.

“You feeling alright mate?” Ron questioned carefully as Harry sat down in a nearby chair and pulled an empty plate towards himself, filling it up with a few eggs and toast.

“Yeah,” Harry answered as he dipped a slice of toast into the yolk of one of his eggs. He knew Ron was voicing concern over whether or not yesterday’s event had caused any more effects or injury to him. “Nothing a good night’s sleep didn’t cure,” Harry added, seeing out of the corner of his eye Ginny trying to hide a grin behind her own piece of toast.

“Yeah…I imagine it did us all a bit of good,” Ron shot back unexpectedly, his voice musing and filled with a hint of satisfaction. Harry nodded and then cast a sideways glance towards Hermione as he lifted a goblet of orange juice to his mouth. She had only a faint hint of a smirk on her face as she continued to read and study an open book on her lap, telling him that she had indeed been listening to Ron's implying statement.

"So Remus said he'd be back after lunch?" Ginny questioned, remembering what Hermione and Ron had told them when they had first came into the chamber.

"Yeah--he had something--Order related to do," Ron responded, not going into any details.

"He told us before he left that McGonagall said we could have access to any resources within the castle we might need," Hermione added, only looking up faintly from her book.

"Which she's already started on," Ron said exasperatedly, shaking his head in the process and glancing at the open book she was buried in at the moment.

Hermione threw Ron a nasty and warning look before turning a page of the tome on her lap.

"We've still got more Horcruxes to find," Hermione sighed, finally looking up from her book. "Just because we're done with one--doesn't mean we get to stop looking and researching. We've still got plenty to go and plenty of work ahead of us Ron."

"Hermione...it's Sunday...I think we can give it a bit of a rest," Ron reasoned. “And I reckon Harry wouldn’t say no to a day off after what he did yesterday…right mate?” Ron added turning to Harry who was still picking at his breakfast, suddenly not finding that he was very hungry now that the subject of the now stagnant Horcrux clue trail had been brought up.

“Er–” Harry faltered. “I–really don’t know. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt us to keep looking.”

Ron looked a bit deflated, as if he had wholeheartedly believed Harry would agree to a lazy day. Hermione shot him a look of satisfaction.

“But on the other hand–” Harry found himself saying. “I really don’t know what we’d be looking for or where we’re supposed to go from here.”

There was a long pause in which all in the room seemed to have dropped into a sort of stupored, yet thought-filled, trance. It was if all of them suddenly realized that they were once again at a dead end and had no real clues or leads to go on. They were back at square one again with no relief in sight and it seemed as though their moment of triumph with the locket had suddenly been snatched from them, along with all the air in their lungs and the room itself.

“Maybe you should talk to the portrait again?” Ginny offered as she sat cross legged on one of the chairs, eating her plate of sausages and toast that lay in her lap. Ron and Hermione looked a bit more hopeful at the suggestion and exchanged glances before their eyes fell on Harry for his reaction or for him to say or do anything at all.

But Harry sat resolutely still, chewing slowly on a piece of toast that was still in his left hand as he stared down at his plate. If they had not known better, it might have been thought that perhaps Harry hadn't heard Ginny's suggestion. But clearly defined lines of tension in his jaw appeared beside the muscles working the food in his mouth, and his demeanor and posture had changed from loose and lax, to suddenly giving off an aura of tenseness and stress. It was obvious to all that his mind was clearly working over something quite intensely.

"I don't think so," Harry said quietly, still not looking up and deciding that staring at his half-eaten food was the best course of action at the moment. He paused, swallowing whatever was in his mouth and reached for his goblet of orange juice, washing the remaining contents down in the process.

He finally looked up after setting the cup back into its place. His eyes came to rest on Ginny, to which he cast an almost apologetic look to before speaking again.

"I don't think he can help us anymore," Harry clarified.

"It couldn't hurt Harry," Hermione chimed in. "He's bound to know someth--"

"Whatever he knew about the Horcruxes...is what we know now. I'm sure of it," Harry interrupted, voicing himself in what was a firm tone that suggested he was strong in his convictions, but not so strong as to downplay any of the other's opinions. And true to his thinking, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looked quite skeptical on the idea that talking to Dumbledore's portrait could not be useful.

"He said last year--he was going to tell me everything. And he did," Harry began again.

"Harry--we didn't know how to destroy the Horcruxes until we came here. We had to ask the portrait about it. He never told you that," Ron interjected, trying to find some sort of way to reason things out logically instead of going based on a hunch and gut feelings the way Harry was.

"He didn't have time to tell me," Harry replied back. "He didn't expect--he never expected to happen--what happened that night," Harry struggled a bit to get out. "If we'd have had longer...I would've known."

"Not to sound as if I don't believe you or trust you, Harry," Hermione said nervously, biting her the inside of her lip as she hesitated. "But how do you--know--that he didn't miss something? That he hadn't learned something new and hadn't had time enough for that either?"

Harry paused to mull over and toss about Hermione's inquiries. She had raised some very valid and worthy questions, as she usually did. But somehow Harry knew what his mind and his conscious was telling him, was right.

"We can go talk to the portrait if you want," Harry offered lightly before continuing on. "But we won't find anything new out."

Harry paused slightly as if collecting and arranging the right words.

"From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundations of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into the thickets of wildest guesswork," Harry recited slowly, closing his eyes a few times, trying to recall the conversation. "That's what he said. He'd told me everything he was sure of--and whatever came next...was what we learned of together...through the memories."

"The locket was the only Horcrux he had a hunch on--and we acted on it that night we went to the cave," Harry continued. “He wasn’t even completely sure of the number of Horcruxes until after I collected the real memory from Slughorn. We needed it to confirm that the number was seven and only after that–were we able to proceed.”

Another sudden pang of guilt washed over Harry as he silently berated himself for not getting Professor Slughorn to divulge the entire and un-tampered with memory sooner than he had. If only he had gotten his hands on it sooner, perhaps Dumbledore may have been able to get more information on the whereabouts of the other Horcruxes.

There was another awed silence as the enormity and sudden helplessness of the current situation seemed to settle upon all of them like a great weight. No one spoke for a bit after Harry’s last words, but they all instead gazed off into the space before them, not really seeing the room around them, but getting lost in the jumble of thoughts and feelings now racing through each of their minds.

“So…” Ron began slowly, taking a deep breathe, “What now?”

Harry pursed his lips and shrugged, shaking his head at the same time, without looking up from his deep thought.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered, painfully.

“We start at the beginning,” Hermione interjected softly, yet with confidence in her tone as if she were saying the right thing. “We start simple–with what we know–and then go from there. There’s no use dwelling on the unknown right now and worrying ourselves with that.”

“Meaning?” Ron questioned.

“Meaning–we start with Hufflepuff’s cup,” Hermione responded. “We know more about that than anything else–”

“Except for the snake,” Harry interrupted quietly. “And Voldemort himself,” he added bitterly.

“Yeah–but we won’t have to go round looking for those bits of soul,” Ron reasoned. “The only ones giving us that type of trouble are the cup and whatever else the other one is.”

“We will–eventually–have to go looking for them, Ron. Voldemort and Nagini,” Harry said seriously. “After we’ve taken care of the other two…that’ll be the last thing left.”

“I know…but that won’t be as difficult as scouring the country for some ruddy cup and an unknown heirloom,” Ron continued. “I mean...well–given–You-Know-Who’s been hell-bent on trying to off you for years and his bloody snake seems to be right there with him…seems sort of like pretty straight forward deal compared to everything else.”

“Yeah…right,” Harry breathed out. It did seem suddenly like that part of their journey would be the easy part. Voldemort had rarely been shy or quiet about his desire to hunt down and rid himself of Harry. So it certainly did seem as though luring the Dark Lord out of his hidey-hole to end things…wouldn’t be such a difficult feat.

But as Harry mulled things over, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t felt like a hunted man for a long time. He felt the burden of the Prophecy and the weight of the complexity and severity of the Horcrux research hunt, but he hadn’t felt watched or stalked, as though Voldemort was waiting around the next bend to pounce on him and threaten his existence as he had in the past.

For some reason, it felt so strange not to have someone breathing down his back intent on killing him and claiming his life. And the more he thought over the subject, he began to think maybe this train of thought wasn’t just a manifestation of his paranoid mind. And it became more apparent that Voldemort and the Death Eaters hadn’t been hunting him for a long time.

In fact, as he recalled quite vividly, the Death Eaters had been ordered as they attacked Hogwarts that night last June, not to harm him.

“No!” roared Snape’s voice and the pain stopped as sudden as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his wand and panting; somewhere overhead Snape was shouting, “Have you forgotten your orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord--we are to leave him! Go! Go!”

They hadn’t even tried to take him or capture him. And a varied number of Voldemort’s henchmen had ample opportunity to do just that….but they hadn’t.

“Harry?”

He hadn’t really dwelled on it till now, but all that had transpired that night and since, concerning Voldemort’s activity towards him, or the lack of, seemed suddenly odd.

“Harry?!”

“Hmm…what?” Harry mumbled as he was broken out of his reverie.

“Are you ok?” Ginny questioned, reaching a hand and placing it on his knee to draw his attention.

“Yeah,” he answered quickly. “Just…thinking is all,” he added.

He could feel Ginny still scrutinizing him closely, but he continued to be determined to avoid her watchful gaze.

“So–er–Hermione,” he began instead, trying to move the conversation along. “What did you have in mind when you were talking about starting again at the beginning--going simple?” he questioned.

“Well–I’ve been wondering for a while–about that woman in the memory of the cup and locket–Hepzibah Smith,” Hermione said slowly, collecting and organizing her thoughts. “And I think we should start with her.”

“But You-Know-Who stole the locket and cup from her and then killed her,” Ron interjected. “What would we need to start with her for? She's played all the part she can, hasn't she?”

“I’ve been thinking–” Hermione began to explain. Ron let out a small snort of laughter at Hermione’s statement, but hastily straightening his amused features when she threw him another scathing look; chastising him for interrupting.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began again, free of any interruptions. “And though the items used for Horcruxes were stolen or taken…none of them ended up very far from the source.”

“Hermione….the locket was in the cave hundreds of miles away from Hepzibah Smith’s,” Harry entered into the conversation. “The diary was here at Hogwarts–”

“Yes…physically yes…they were quite removed,” Hermione began to respond.

“Except for the ring…it was in the ruins of the Gaunt house,” Harry reasoned.

“I don’t mean distance meaning space and time Harry,” Hermione pressed, sounding as she had many times during her many years of revising and tutoring both Harry and Ron.

“I mean…none of the places the other Horcruxes ended up were far from Voldemort himself. They all were places connected to him,” Hermione added. “The locket was originally in a cave, yes….but in a place that held great importance to him. You told us yourself, Harry, that Voldemort lured kids down there as a child himself and perhaps tortured them,” she continued, her speech building speed and fervor as she tried to hammer home her point.

“It would have held great significance for him, being the place where he perhaps got his first taste of real power and control. And the diary…it was here at Hogwarts…a place where–”

“He felt most at home,” Harry finished for her and Hermione nodded enthusiastically. Harry was beginning to catch on to her deciphering and connecting the dots to her theory.

“And it was near the Chamber of Secrets….a place that held historical importance and ties to his heritage. As did the ruins of his family’s home…where his last connections to his Slytherin parentage resided for years,” Hermione added quickly. “So as endless the possibilities seem for where we might look…he’s really narrowed it down by succumbing to his fondness for significant and noteworthy things and places, both connected to him and the history of magic.”

“They do not call you the brightest witch of our year for nothing,” Ron sighed in amazement, with a satisfied smirk on his face. “You’re brilliant,” he added, reaching over to kiss Hermione on the cheek, causing a blush to creep up her cheeks.

“I’m not that brilliant,” Hermione managed modestly. “Even though I’ve come up with that theory…I still don’t know where and what places to consider. I’ve just thought up a place to start.”

“Well that makes things a right sight better than they were looking a few moments ago,” Ron reasoned heavily.

"So you think...that the cup...is still somehow connected with Hepzibah Smith?" Ginny chimed in, trying to piece everything together. "How does that tie in with Voldemort picking places linked to--?"

“Well–not only does he seem to pick and favor places and things that have great personal interest to himself,” Hermione interrupted, fielding Ginny’s question before she had a chance to finish. “But he latches onto and has a great interest in things and themes having to do with the four founders of Hogwarts,” she finished.

“Hepzibah said in the memory that she was a distant descendent from Helga Hufflepuff,” Harry voiced out loud, remembering the old woman’s overlarge frame and haughty manner from the pensieve.

"Yes. I remembered that much from when you showed us the memory that led us to the locket," Hermione responded.

"Ok...I'm not intentionally playing thick here," Ron said suddenly. "But I still am not getting exactly why knowing that this old witch was a relative of Hufflepuff is really all that helpful."

"Ron's right," Harry said quietly before Hermione could do her normal huffing and 'tsking' of Ron's incomprehnsion. "Dumbledore mentioned to me that it took her family a while to discover the locket and the cup missing. They had to check all her hiding spots to make sure she just didn't stow it away somewhere. But they didn't find anything..."

"Well if she was that tricky...maybe her family missed something?" Ginny interjected. "Maybe they checked the usual spots where she kept her valuables? But if she was that meticulous in her secrecy...whose to say Voldemort didn't take advantage of that for himself?"

"That's a thought," Hermione murmmured, still working through things in her head. "That's really good actually Ginny," Hermione said with an approving nod. Ginny managed a small smile back in return and Harry couldn't help but feel proud of her contributions to all this.

"But how are we supposed to find places that were suitable for stowing away treasures and such that even her family wasn't aware of?" Ron questioned again. Harry could tell Hermione was getting a bit aggitated at his lack of comprehension. But Harry knew it wasn't Ron's lack of understanding, but his need to have as many facts as he could so he could get a clearer picture that was driving his questioning. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't picked up this habit from Hermione herself.

"We look in places that may have seemed ordinary or unlikely to them at the time of her death," Hermione expressed in a forced calm manner. "We can go through goverment records and documents on family history, and any likely texts we can get our hands on. We'll be able to find a bit of information here at the library. And I'm sure we can ask Remus or Tonks if they know any way we can get more information."

"So in short..." Ron sighed exasperatedly. "More time spent with our noses in books?"

"Yes Ron. We'll be doing a bit of research," Hermione replied shortly.

"Damn," Ron said quietly, shaking his head in dissapointment. "I think I enjoy it better when we're in the middle of danger and dodgy places, where the action is. Wrestling and wrangling with theives and murderers," he added, sounded thouroughly let down.

"Sure...because you've done so much 'wrestling and wrangling' so far," Hermione responded with a roll of her eyes, though she did have a hint of a grin on her face.

"I'm just saying that I thought with leaving school and all, I'd be doing less revising...not more," he countered.

"Well you thought wrong," Harry snorted and Ron shot him a contemputous look.

"If that's all, I'm going to get a start on this...seeing as you're so keen on skiving off a day," Hermione said as she stood up and stretched out in front of Ron. "Harry can I borrow the cloak so I can head up to the library?" she questioned turning away from Ron.

"Yeah. Sure," Harry responded quickly, reaching into his bag next to his chair and pulling out the folded cloak, tossing it to her.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come help?" Harry asked as Hermione tossed the cloak around her shoulders after hitching her bag upon them.

"No," Hermione said dismissively. "You take the day off Harry," she added and Ron's jaw immediately dropped in response. "I can't reckon that you're fully recovered from last night with the locket. And if we're going to get anywhere soon, we can't have you exhausted."

"Ok," Harry replied, grateful for the chance at rest. "We'll talk to Lupin when he gets back too."

"Sounds good," Hermione said, nodding slightly. "Alright...I'm off," she added as she turned back towards the door.

"Wait!" Ron shouted as he stood up from his chair. "You're going to leave me here with these two?" he gestured incredulously towards Ginny and Harry as he stared at the space near the door where Hermione had just dissapeared beneath the cloak. "What? Do you want me to be scarred for life?" he added, giving Ginny and Harry a disgusted look, as if they were shagging right there in front of him.

"The only other option is coming with me," Hermione shot back, tearing the cloak from her head. "And if you do...you WILL be researching and helping out Ron," she added sternly, sounding and looking a bit too much like Professor McGonagall.

Ron seemed to mull over and consider his options for a bit, wrestling with the idea that reading and taking notes would be more bearable than being in a room with his best friend and his sister, like it was some sort of life or death situation.

"Fine," he relented, stepping towards Hermione while grabbing his own pack. "Budge over," he added as he grabbed the end of the cloak and flung it around his shoulders, nearly obscuring Hermione completely in doing so.

"I'm serious Ron," Hermione pressed, though most of her face was no longer visible.

"I know, I know. You're always serious," Ron responded exasperatedly. "Now come on. For being all gung-ho before about getting to the library, you sure are stalling."

There was an exasperted huff and Harry thought he heard something along the lines of "heaven help me" being muttered from within the cloak. And he was certain he heard Ron snigger in response as the last bit of his ankles and feet dissapeared.

The lock of the chamber door slid out of place and it opened a crack as if Ron and Hermione were checking to make sure the coast was clear.

"You know, this might go a bit faster and easier if I carry you," Harry heard Ron's voice say suggestively from near the door. "We have gotten a bit big for this cloak to hide both of us..."

"You are NOT carrying me Ron," Hermione reprimanded in a hushed hiss of a whisper, before the door closed leaving and Harry and Ginny quite alone.

"It's a wonder she doesn't end up hexing him," Ginny breathed thoughtfully as she glanced at the place where the other two had just left. "I don't think I could stand not to."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied wearily, remembering just how good Ginny was at hexes, particularily the Bat-Boogey Hex.

But after that comment, there was a momentarily lapse of sound, as another great weight seemed to crush any flare of playfulness or happiness Harry might have been feeling. He suddenly felt as if all fight and curiousity had gone out of him and he sunk into his chair, his head in his hands, rubbing at his suddenly tired face. It was one of those moments where he felt so much more older, so much more alone, despite their apparent revelation and development of some sort of direction.

He was so caught up in this manifested dread, that he didn't hear or notice Ginny put down her plate and get up from her chair. It was only when he felt his left arm being lifted from the armrest, that he responded, looping his arms around Ginny as she settled into his lap and nestled against him.

"I'm lost Gin," he heard himself say in a broken whisper. "I hate how I can spend a night in your arms and feel on top of the world. And then come back to all this and have reality come crashing back down...and lose it all again." The words had come out without him knowing it, but somehow he felt it was the right and true thing to say.

"You're not lost," Ginny assured him quietly, dropping her gaze so their foreheads touched. "You're just scared," she added in a whisper.

Harry opened his eyes to meet hers.

'How the hell could this girl know him so well?'

"And it's ok," Ginny said softly. "You should never be ashamed to be afraid, Harry."

Harry nodded slightly and sighed out heavily, leaning his towards Ginny, who lifted her head and allowed him to rest his head on her shoulder.

"I--I don't know about all this," he said heavily. "I mean--I get what Hermione was saying...what we came up with. It makes so much sense...in theory. But--yet--I don't get how it's going to work. Somehow it doesn't make sense to me how it'll all work out," he spoke rapidly, his thoughts a jumbled mess, tumbling out his mouth unabashed.

"Does that make sense? How I can get something...but yet not get it?" Harry wondered aloud to himself and for Ginny to respond.

""Yes...it does," Ginny replied thoughtfully, with a steady nod of her head. "You want to believe it'll work...that this'll lead you to another Horcrux. But it just seems too simple, too right, to come off without any hitches."

"It's not that I want to throw away this idea...or not try and go down this track," Harry began again. "I mean--it's the only thing we have--it's better than nothing.”

“There’s another reason isn’t there?” Ginny questioned. “There’s more than just your apprehension and worry that this might be a dead end.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement this time. Ginny knew without a doubt that Harry was refraining from saying exactly what was making him so worried or shaking him so much. Just as Harry knew that there was indeed more pressing on him than he had currently articulated.

“I think a bit of me–” he began shakily. “A lot a bit of me–doesn’t want to find the next Horcrux. Maybe I don’t…maybe I don’t want things to escalate and move along so quickly if this is indeed the right trail to head down.”

He closed his eyes as flashbacks and phantom pains from being choked and throttled by the locket racked his mind. He was once again lost in the blinding abyss, trying hard to get back to the others, but at the same time, not quite sure he wanted to face the consequences.

“Look what happened with the locket, Gin,” Harry forced himself to continue. “I nearly died…and I lost something so important to me–” he trailed off.

“What’s going to happen with the next one?” he asked brokenly out loud. “How much more do I have to sacrifice? How much more do I have to go through before I even face Voldemort himself? Is there even going to be enough of me left by then?”

“I know…I’m afraid too,” Ginny cried silently, wrapping her arms gently around Harry’s head, bringing him to her.

“I know that Ron and Hermione are going to want to step in with the others–take the brunt of it all,” Harry breathed out. “I can’t let them do that–but I don’t know if I can handle anymore. And I’m not quite ready to find out if I can.”

“You can…and you will,” Ginny managed to sound bravely. “When the time comes…you’ll find the strength…like you always do. Not because you have to…but because that’s who you are…the man you’ve become. And I wouldn’t expect any less of you…and neither would you.”

“But God knows how much I wish you could be normal. Be seventeen–” Ginny began again.

“Do you feel your age?” Harry questioned quietly. “When’s the last time you felt sixteen?”

“When I last snuck my boyfriend into my dorm room and shagged him senseless the next morning,” Ginny chuckled as she held him close.

“Yeah…I have those moments too,” Harry breathed out reminiscently. “But most other times I feel like I’ve lived ten lifetimes too many,” he added in a hollow sort of way, slumping against Ginny completely.

“We’ve seen too much,” Ginny whispered faintly. “We’ve endured too much to not feel the weight of it all.”

“But it’s going to stop here, Gin,” Harry said fiercely as he straightened up, a sudden fire alight within him. “No other generation is going to have to deal with this oppression, with such evil. I–and all who are fighting alongside me–are going to make sure of it.”

Ginny nodded intensely in agreement, feeling a burst of power and electricity suddenly coursing through Harry as she held onto him.

“Let’s just hope Hermione finds what we’re looking for and that I’m ready when she does,” he added a bit less sure than before, but still steeled with drive and desire, fueled by his want to allow future children and generations to not have to know the pain and suffering he had known and endured because of one man.

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