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SIYE Time:9:10 on 29th March 2024
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Don't Give Up On Me
By HappyHouriFanfic

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 173
Summary: Harry Potter has a destiny to defeat Voldemort and save the Wizarding World, but it’s hard to do when he’s the only one who knows that the Dark Lord has returned.
Hitcount: Story Total: 50273; Chapter Total: 1337
Awards: View Trophy Room






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Assault on Gringotts Wizarding Bank


“The daring daylight assault on Gringotts Bank on Wednesday was the work of a rogue group with undesirable motives toward overthrowing the Ministry of Magic,” newly-appointed Ministry Spokesman, Percy Weasley told The Daily Prophet reporters in an announcement Thursday evening. Weasley said that the Ministry strongly condemns the action as undermining the delicate relationship between Wizardkind and Goblins.

When contacted by
The Daily Prophet for a statement, Head Goblin Banker, Bogrod, informed reporters that while the bank itself had been breached, no vaults had been compromised and nothing was stolen. “Wizards and witches should not be afraid to keep their trust in Gringotts,” he said, “we are as sound as ever and will continue protecting your treasures.” He declined to comment on the breakdown of security which allowed two wizards and one witch to make it into the vault area of the bank. However, he did vow that “It won’t happen again!”

The Ministry has identified the three suspects as Sirius Black, former escapee from Azkaban, Harry Potter, his godson and former Auror with the Ministry, as well as current Auror, Nymphadora Tonks. Warrants for their arrests have been issued and anyone with information on their whereabouts, or their known associates, is urged to come forward. Anonymity of those wishing to assist the Ministry is assured.

Some have defended the action by claiming that the three were actually Dragon-Rights Activists intent on making sure that the dragons used by Gringotts to secure their oldest and largest vaults were well-treated. Others claim that the three are working for a secret organization earlier identified in an untrustworthy tabloid weeks ago as having evil intentions to take over the Ministry. Yet, some are of the opinion that the thieves were actually fighting Ministry corruption which already exists.

“Foolishness,” Percy Weasley said when questioned about the theories. “These individuals should be considered dangerous subversives and treated as such. The Ministry is putting every effort into finding and punishing these outlaws, rest assured. Their actions will not go unpunished.”

When questioned whether the Ministry believed rumors that other Wizards had helped the three perpetrators escape, Weasley denied all knowledge and called it “nothing but a rumor”. He urged people to get their news from reputable and approved sources, such as
The Daily Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless News Network (WWNN), rather than believe rogue publications and common gossip. “Wizardkind can put their faith in this Ministry to do what is right and what is just. Magic over Might.”

Weasley’s use of the new Ministry motto signaled the end of the press statement and he released sketches of the perpetrators, indicating that the public should be on the watch for them and notify Magical Law Enforcement immediately if they are spotted.


“Well, that’s us, I suppose,” Harry mumbled after he’d finished reading the article. He scrunched his nose as he peered at the suspect sketches of himself and Tonks. Sirius’ old wanted poster had been used alongside the drawings.

“Doesn’t look much like you, love,” Ginny murmured.

“Looks just like him,” Sirius pointed out with a smirk. “And why even try with Tonks? She’ll change her appearance.”

“Not common knowledge,” Tonks pointed out with a smirk. “The Ministry put out a decree over a year ago that any witch or wizard with ‘special abilities’ was to register, but I never did. I’ve kept my abilities to myself over the years; people assume I’m good at charm work and I don’t correct them.” She unwound the bandages on her hands and Harry had to look away from the red, angry welts still there, even though they were looking better.

“If I didn’t know Percy was on our side,” said Ron as he reread the article, “I’d find a way to hex him with something awful.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not a complete prat,” Ginny murmured, “because he sure sounds like one in this.”

“He’s playing a part,” said Harry, even though he wasn’t completely sure. The idea of Percy embedded firmly in the Death Eater camp wasn’t comfortable in any circumstance. He had no idea how Mr. Weasley had agreed to be a part of this. Then again, as Snape had said, everyone had their own choices, didn’t they?

“I have to admit that I feel a little better knowing that there are three more of you relegated to hiding here in Grimmauld Place with me,” said Hermione with a smirk.

“We’re getting quite the collection of Ministry outcasts, aren’t we?” said Remus with a smirk. “The Ministry’s most wanted, dangerous creatures, those on You-Know-Who’s hit list… It seems a bit strange to lump us all together.”

“Wasn’t that how it was before?” Harry asked. “The Order seemed to be made up of the odds and ends witches and wizards who knew what was right, despite being all different.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I suppose you are right about that.”

The levity of the moment faded as reality set in. Harry was a wanted man, now. The Ministry--which meant Voldemort--knew he was working to subvert authority. That would connect the dots back to the prophecy, wouldn’t it? Harry wanted more than anything to be able to talk with Dumbledore again, to voice his confusion and thoughts, and see where the wise old wizard would lead him.

Why hadn’t Voldemort come for him again after regaining his body? Why had Harry been able to live a relatively quiet life up until he’d discovered the truth about the Ministry?

Did the answer lay in the prophecy itself? Snape admitted to only overhearing part of it before he’d been caught, and only delivering that much to Voldemort. Was it possible that Voldemort feared Harry? It made sense when Harry thought about it, as Voldemort was still trying to get into the Department of Mysteries to get at the prophecy.

And why was Harry having visions and feeling the emotions of a psychotic Dark Lord? How were they connected?

None of it made sense to Harry and he tried to keep the worry at bay, but it was beginning to creep more and more into his mind.

“Knut for your thoughts,” Ginny whispered as she nudged his shoulder. They were seated at the kitchen table, but everyone had finished eating long ago.

Grimmauld Place was in a strange sort of limbo, stuck between mourning the death of Fred, dealing with the hurried burial at the Burrow, and trying to find a way to continue moving forward in their half-war. There were times when grief swamped the dark house, and others when it was a hive of activity.

“They’re worth more than that,” Harry responded with a forced smile. He took her hand in his and caressed the soft fingers. The callouses she’d had from riding a broom were beginning to fade. He ran his fingers over the area and wished he could take her riding again. “Thinking about what we need to do next.”

“Break the charm,” she said. They’d been talking about it for days, and both Bill and Fleur were spending all of their time now searching the list of sites for anything that might hint that the charm was anchored there.

“Yeah.”

“And destroy the cup.”

“Right.” Harry let out a deep breath. He hadn’t forgotten the cup, which was tucked in a corner of their bedroom, wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak and piled under a mass of dirty laundry. It’d been the first place Harry could stash it after returning and he hadn’t looked at it since.

“Let’s go,” he urged.

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

“They’re a lot more people here now, Harry,” she said. “You remember what happened last time?”

Harry felt his cheeks flush at the rush of memories that came to him when they’d destroyed the last horcrux. “I think we can restrain--”

“Not that!” Ginny said, her own cheeks growing pink. “I mean...it was rather loud destroying it, and there are people here that don’t need to know everything we do.”

Harry nodded slowly. “You mean your Mum.”

Ginny grew even redder and her eyes narrowed. Harry had walked in on Ginny and her mother the other day having a blazing row about whether Ginny and Harry should be sharing a bed, and Mrs. Weasley warning Ginny that she was acting like a scarlet woman. They’d been walking on eggshells around each other since, exchanging tight, polite conversation.

“Her, too,” said Ginny. “But not everyone needs to know about--”

“Right.”

They looked at each other for a long minute and Harry could feel the curious glances of the others in the room.

“Then we’ll take it somewhere else,” he said. “The Burrow, or...or Shell Cottage...or that field where we used to fly.”

“That might work.”

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice broke through and Harry turned to look at her. “Is there something we need to know?”

He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “No, just...talking about--”

“Something private,” Ginny finished.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask another question, but Ron put his hand on her arm and gave a small shake of his head.

“Let them talk, Hermione. None of us gets enough privacy around this place.” The tips of his ears were bright red and Harry wondered if he hadn’t been the recipient of one of his mother’s lectures on proper behavior, also.

“It’s nothing pressing, Hermione,” Harry said. “Just something Ginny and I need to get done.”

“Alright,” Hermione finally agreed. She began clearing the table, still casting furtive glances their direction.

“Let’s go now,” said Ginny. “We don’t know how many more chances we’ll get.”

Harry nodded and helped clear his breakfast things away before he took Ginny’s hand and led her up to their bedroom. He began pulling clothing from the pile, feeling for the silky material of the Cloak against his fingers. Finally, he brushed it and pulled the cloth-covered up from the pile.

“Got the cup. Get the sword, will you?”

He heard her lift the mattress behind him and then a sharp exhale of breath. “Did you move it?!”

Harry spun on his heel and stared at the space where he’d put the Sword of Gryffindor. But it was gone.

“No! I haven't touched it!”

Ginny let the mattress flop back down and fell to her knees, peering under the bed, growing more and more frantic in her movements as she began searching their room.

Harry’s mind whirled. The sword was gone. He looked down at the cup, just visible when the cloak slipped away. How would they destroy the cup without it?!

“It’s not here!” Ginny said. She’d levitated the bed from the wall, scooting it to the center of the room, and then begun levitating other pieces of furniture in her search.

Accio Sword!” Harry said in a faint voice. His heart hammered in his chest.

Nothing happened and Harry felt his stomach turn over.

“Who could have--”

“How could it have disappeared?” asked Harry.

Ginny let out a string of curse words and Harry was surprised her mother hadn’t heard through two closed doors and come running to wash her mouth out with a good Scourgify charm.

He slumped down to sit on the mattress and stared down at the cup. “How are we supposed to destroy this?” he asked.

“How am I supposed to know?!”

“I didn’t mean to ask you,” Harry said. “Just...thinking out loud.”

Ginny sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. “Harry, I swear I didn’t--”

“I know. It’s not… I think the sword comes and goes when it’s needed.”

“Stupid sword,” Ginny growled. “We need it now.”

They sat together in the silence of the room, staring at the cup Harry held.

“What’re we going to do, Harry? We have to destroy it.”

“I know. I don’t… I’m trying to think how the others were destroyed. Maybe there’s another way.”

“We destroyed the locket with the sword,” mumbled Ginny.

“I don’t know how the tiara or ring were destroyed. Dumbledore never said.”

“The diary…” Ginny shook her head.

“Basilisk fang,” Harry said. They looked at each other as an idea bloomed in Harry’s mind. “We know where one of those is.”

“You mean...going back there? To the Chamber?”

“To Hogwarts and the Chamber.”

Xxxxx

“We need to talk to both of you,” Harry murmured to Ron as they watched Hermione and Remus discuss adding more locations to their search list.

Ron peered at Harry in the low light of the hallway. One eyebrow rose and he nodded. “Right. Give me a couple of minutes to pull Hermione away.”

Harry gave a nod. “We’ll be in our bedroom.”

Ron’s lips pressed together, and he must have guessed that whatever Harry had to say was serious.

Harry didn’t wait to see how Ron would distract Hermione, just turned on his heel and went back up the stairs. He found Ginny sitting on their bed, her legs tucked under her and their dream journals spread before her.

“What are you--”

“Just reading,” she murmured. “Trying to wrap my head around going back there.”

Harry nodded. He came to sit by her and glanced down at the handwriting on the pages, seeing words like ‘terrified’, ‘dark’, ‘despair’, ‘cold’, and ‘snake’ written there. A shudder passed through him.

“If there was any other way that I could think of...”

“Maybe Hermione can.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed, but he was doubtful. It seemed fitting that they would somehow end up back at Hogwarts for all of this. And perhaps it was meant to be that they come full circle with the Chamber of Secrets, as well.

“Can you remember enough about it to get in?”

Harry sighed and rubbed at his forehead. The headaches had eased, but one was starting to form now. “Enough.”

Ginny laid her head on his shoulder and closed the journals. “I’m going back there with you.”

“Ginny.”

“This is not me being stubborn, Harry,” she said, “this is me working to overcome my fears and facing what happened to both of us in there. I may not remember everything, but I know enough to know that we both went through some pretty nasty experiences. I don’t want that haunting me for the rest of my life.”

Harry wanted to argue with her, wanted to tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere near that place ever again. The memory of her lying on the floor, pale enough for Harry to think she was dead, shook him now, years later. But he also knew he couldn’t stop her, and he didn’t want to; she had as much right to go after that fang as he did in order to destroy the horcrux and bring justice to Voldemort.

Instead of arguing, Harry kissed her forehead and pulled her tighter into him.

Ron and Hermione found them like that when they walked into the room.

“You wanted to talk to us, Harry?” Hermione said.

“Yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and sighed. “We came up here to get the sword to destroy the cup.”

“Right.” Ron nodded. “That’s what we figured.”

“Only…”

“The sword is missing,” said Ginny.

Ron jumped in his chair, his eyes going wide. “Missing? You think someone stole it?!”

Harry held out his hand to shush his friend. They didn’t need anyone overhearing them. “No. I think the sword comes when we need it and goes when we don’t.”

“That makes sense,” muttered Hermione.

“And we don’t need it now?!”

Ginny growled at her brother. “Ron, keep your voice down. We don’t need Mum bursting in here.”

“Of course, we need it,” said Harry. “But...but there are other ways, too.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “Other ways to destroy a horcrux? I thought you said you didn’t know enough about them to--”

“I remembered something that I missed last time,” admitted Harry. “We destroyed--”

You destroyed,” corrected Ginny.

“--the diary with a basilisk fang.”

“Well, since it’s something easy to get,” Ron scoffed.

“We know where one is, Ron,” said Ginny.

“Bloody hell.”

Harry almost smirked because Hermione didn’t correct Ron for his language.

“Hogwarts?” asked Hermione

“Wait, you’re telling me that we survived breaking into and out of Gringotts, and now we have to break into Hogwarts?! Why not just break into the Ministry while we’re at it?!”

“We could,” said Ginny with a smirk, “but Hogwarts will do for now.”

“This is the last one, isn’t it, Harry?” Hermione asked. Her earnest eyes were weary, and Harry knew that being stuck and unable to help with more than research was wearing on her.

“Before the snake, yeah.”

“And how do we get the snake?” asked Ron. “It’s not like it’s locked away somewhere, and we just have to break in. You-Know-Who keeps it with him, doesn’t he?”

“From what I’ve heard, yeah,” said Harry.

“Alright,” Ron sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “We’ll deal with this one first, then.”

“How are we going to break into Hogwarts, Harry?” asked Hermione. “The Ministry has control over it, too. And that Witch is always there.” They’d all come to despise Dolores Umbridge and her weekly Educational Decrees announced in The Daily Prophet. Not to mention the little bits and pieces of news that escaped Hogwarts through the monitored mail.

“I don’t know yet,” said Harry. “Ginny and I hadn’t gotten that far before we knew we had to talk to you both.”

“It needs to be soon,” said Ginny. “Every day that we wait, the Ministry grows stronger. And I’m worried about the headaches and visions that Harry gets--”

Harry’s head whipped around, and he stared at her. “I’m fine!” They hadn’t discussed talking about this with others. Harry knew they knew about it, but he didn’t want to have them all asking him how he felt or worrying about him all the time. He’d survived this long without them analyzing his every move.

“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” said Hermione. “And I’m wondering if it’s your scar, Harry--”

“I’m fine!” Harry scowled.

“--you got it the night You-Know-Who tried to kill you. Perhaps it links the two of you in some way.”

Harry stood and nudged past Ron and Hermione, heading toward the door. “I don’t want to talk about it. We need to get planning.”

“You have to admit, Harry,” said Ron, “that it’s a little weird having him in your head.”

Harry rounded on his friend. “You think so, Ron?! A little weird?”

“Harry--”

“Don’t, Hermione,” snapped Harry. “Don’t waste time on this. If it is connected in some way, then it’ll end soon enough, right? If it’s not…” Harry bit off the words that were in his mouth; he couldn’t bring himself to say them. “It’ll resolve. Or maybe I’m really good at Divination and old Trelawny was wrong about me the entire time.”

“Alright, Harry,” Ginny said. “Let’s plan how we’re going to get into Hogwarts.”

Xxxxx

They couldn’t seem to agree on anything, and it was driving Harry mad. How had storming Gringotts seemed so much easier than getting into Hogwarts?!

It didn’t help that Harry’s headache was becoming more and more prominent, moving from a dull throb to a pounding that made his eyes cross. And the looks shot between his friends when they thought he wasn’t looking were making his skin crawl in annoyance. He tried to pretend he didn’t see, but it wasn’t easy.

“This would be so much easier if we could apparate--”

“Ron! You know--”

“I know, Hermione,” Ron said, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. “I just wish it was different.”

Their plans were spread out on the kitchen table, as Grimmauld Place was unusually deserted that afternoon. Harry didn’t even know where everyone was, but he was relieved to be able to escape the bedroom they’d been planning in. It was stuffy and cramped and Harry was tired of Hermione’s endless parchment plans covering every surface they weren’t actually sitting on.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be extra intuitive about their planning and had found a hundred different reasons to interrupt or require Ginny or Hermione in some way. Harry was trying not to get frustrated with her, but he missed the days when they could stick their plans to the walls of the hallway or kitchen without having to hide them. It wasn’t that she disapproved of the actions they were taking, more that she always questioned whether they were necessary, or if they shouldn’t let the adults handle that particular part of it, completely forgetting that all of them were of age.

And Harry also missed being able to kiss Ginny anytime he wanted. Their love life had been relatively non-existent since the Weasleys had moved en-masse to Grimmauld Place. To put it bluntly, Harry was exhausted, in pain, and randy. Three very difficult things to work around.

“There has to be some other way to get inside,” said Ginny. They were searching a map that the twins had given Ginny before they left Hogwarts. Harry’d never seen it--something he planned to discuss with George one day--but it was bloody brilliant. “George said the tunnel behind the mirror on the fourth floor caved in years ago.”

“What about the one from Honeydukes?”

They’d been over this time and time again, and Harry was tired of hearing the same things.

“Can we skip over the part where we get in and get the damned fang?” Harry grumbled.

Hermione swung around on him. “Harry, getting in is the most dangerous part!”

“Really?” Harry snapped. “And you think destroying a bit of a mad-man’s soul is going to be a picnic?!”

“Quit bickering,” Ginny pleaded.

“Oi! Don’t speak to her like that!” Ron glared at Harry. “She’s only trying to help.”

“I just meant, Harry, that if we don’t have a way inside, then there’s little point in planning the rest of the mission.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he nodded, conceding the point. “I know, Hermione. And I’m sorry. I’m tired and--”

“And in pain.” Ginny gave him a sharp look.

“How about polyjuice?” Ron asked. “We snatch some little Frankie First Year from Hogsmeade and pretend to be him long enough to get into the castle.”

“First years can’t get into Hogsmeade, Ron,” Hermione pointed out.

“I know that,” Ron said. “Obviously, it’s going to be a third year, or higher. I just said Frankie First Year because--”

Talking over her brother, Ginny agreed. “The idea might work, but they’ve canceled all Hogsmeade visits, and we couldn’t wait for one, even if they hadn’t.”

“Hagrid could get us some hairs,” said Harry. He didn’t feel right about involving Hagrid without telling his friend what the stakes were, but he also knew that Hagrid wasn’t great about keeping secrets. Half the castle might know before they even stepped foot onto the grounds.

“Or McGonagall.”

Harry and Ron both snorted at Ginny’s suggestion. “Not strait-laced McGonagall,” said Ron. “She’d have us all in detention for even thinking it.”

“I’ll bet you’d be surprised,” said Hermione. “Let’s use that plan as a backup. It still doesn’t address the fact of how we would get inside the castle gates.”

“The path from the Whomping Willow is still open.”

They all turned to see Remus and Sirius standing in the doorway. Hermione flicked her wand and all their parchments curled into rolls and slid into her satchel.

Harry gaped at the two men. “How do you know--”

But Sirius shrugged casually and began helping himself to food from the cupboard. “We’ve been in and out of the castle more than anyone alive.”

“The tunnel was still open in your sixth year, Harry,” said Remus. He took a seat next to Hermione and, giving her a look, tugged one of the parchment scrolls from the bag to inspect. “It leads to the basement of Shrieking Shack. Not hard at all to get into that.”

Ron scoffed. “Except it’s haunted. Just what we need is some ghost--”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a smug look that Harry couldn’t read. “How d’you know about that tunnel?”

“I used it when I would transform,” said Remus. “Dumbledore had the shack built the year I was to begin classes. It was never haunted--”

“Only by four teenagers who were up to no good,” said Sirius. He took a seat next to Ginny, who eyed him carefully. Harry didn’t understand the look.

“Wait, you used to go there?” Harry asked.

“Me, your father, Peter, and Moony, here. Yes. That’s why we learned to be Animagi, to help Remus when he transformed. Our school days were spent figuring out every way to break the rules that we could. That’s why we called ourselves--”

“The Marauders,” Ginny said, in awe. “Wormtail, Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide as he stared at her. “How did you--”

She lifted the map that she’d tucked under her leg when they’d come in. “You made this.”

Remus snatched it from her hands and poured over it, his eyes running back and forth over the surface. “Where did you get this?”

“Fred and George nicked it from Filch’s office their first year while they were serving detention,” said Ginny. “They gave it to me before they left, but I didn’t use it at all. I was sort of bothered by how much it seemed like the diary. I completely forgot I had it, to be honest.”

“Makes sense,” said Ron, “with the memory charm on us all.”

A strange sort of silence settled around the table as Harry took it all in. His father had been a mischief maker along with his friends, and the fruits of their labors had been sitting in Ginny’s school trunk all this time.

“That might work, Harry,” said Hermione. “We can get to the Shack, at least. Honeydukes was a risk, with the Aurors and Snatchers patrolling constantly.”

“Then we transform using polyjuice and hair from a student, get onto the grounds,” Ginny continued, “and then get to the Chamber.”

“What chamber?” Remus asked.

“The Chamber of Secrets,” Harry told them. Sirius met his gaze and something deep passed between them. Harry had a feeling it was respect.

“It seems, Moony, that our map isn’t as complete as we thought it was.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Remus but was cut off by the loud crack of someone apparating into the kitchen. Harry pulled his wand and pointed it at Bill Weasley, who stood with his hands out in front of him and a grin on his face.

“I’ve found it, Harry.”
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