ounce of energy he had was focused on keeping his composure and not falling to pieces. Ginny helped him to do that.
Images of his day, of Wormtail’s words and what they meant flashed in his head, and he began to shake. Ginny tightened her hold around him and began whispering soft, gentle words meant to comfort, and he felt like a heel knowing he was going to break her heart.
He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the world away. “Ginny,” he croaked. “I’m going to die.”
“Don’t talk like that, Harry. Of course you aren’t going to die. We’re in this together, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” she replied fiercely.
Harry was unable to form the words. He’d have to tell her everything but not just now. He just wanted to hold and be held by her right now, feeling safe for the first time that day.
Standing there wrapped in the warmth of her embrace and smelling the sweet flowery aroma of her hair, for one brief moment, he could almost believe that was true.
Chapter Seven
Forward Progress
Harry slowly drifted awake, gradually becoming aware of a brightness piercing his closed eyelids. He lazily rolled to one side, hoping to doze again and nearly fell to the floor. He managed to catch himself just in the knick of time, but was startled fully awake. He blinked several times in confusion.
Dazedly, he glanced around the room and realized that he was sprawled on the couch in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place with Ginny snuggled close and sleeping peacefully at his side.
She shifted in her sleep, seeking the warmth from his body that had pulled away from her during his near fall. Soft tendrils of her hair tickled his nose and stuck to his lips as he pulled his head back, trying not to wake her.
He had vague recollections of holding her in this very room the previous evening, but he found it hard to believe that Mrs. Weasley had allowed her to stay here with him all night. He wasn’t even certain how he’d got back to Grimmauld Place in the first place, never mind how he and Ginny apparently had spent the night together.
It was just his luck that the first time he’d ever found himself in this predicament, he had absolutely no memory of how it happened. That scenario seemed horribly appropriate for how his life worked, he thought bitterly. He shifted slightly, and Ginny’s eyes fluttered open.
"Morning," she said groggily.
"Morning," he replied, smiling softly at her sleepy expression. He pushed the hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead.
"Are you all right?" she asked, suddenly sitting up straighter. The memories of the previous evening were obviously coming back to her.
"Yeah," he said sheepishly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Thanks, Ginny."
She’d been there for him when he’d needed her the most, but he couldn’t put that into words. He didn’t yet want to confront what he’d learned yesterday. He needed to work it out in his own mind before telling his friends. It was even more difficult with Ginny since she had no knowledge of the prophecy or the Horcruxes. This was too big to keep from her, however. He just had to figure out exactly how much to tell her, never mind how to say it.
"We were all really concerned about you last night," Ginny said tentatively, and he was grateful to her for not demanding answers right away. "Mum didn’t want to disturb you after you’d fallen asleep, but she used a charm to alert her as soon as you woke. Expect her any minute. She’d never allow enough time for any funny business."
Harry blushed deeply enough to do any Weasley proud and tried to extricate himself from Ginny’s embrace.
"Don’t worry. It’s not you she doesn’t trust; it’s me," Ginny said, grinning. She arched her eyebrow and looked him up and down speculatively. "She’s probably right about that."
Her words intrigued him as his brain started thinking of all the possibilities in that statement. He knew that any one of her brothers would likely hex him for the thoughts in his head, but at that moment, he didn’t really care.
He leaned over to kiss her just as Mrs. Weasley rushed through the open door, wearing her dressing gown and looking slightly flushed. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that she’d sprinted from her bed and raced to the drawing room the moment her charm had alerted her that Harry was awake. He was happy Ginny had known about the charm so they hadn’t been caught in a full-out snog.
Ginny lowered her head and rested it against his chest, giggling. "Morning, Mum," she said, her voice muffled.
"Good morning, Ginny, Harry. How are you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, moving towards the sofa and sitting down between Harry and Ginny. Ginny stood up and made faces at Harry behind her mum’s back as she spoke.
"I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, grinning at Ginny over her mother’s head.
"Honestly, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, sounding more stern. "I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Running off like that alone. What were you thinking? You could have been killed. Now, I know you’ve become used to handling things on your own, but there is really much too great a risk for you to be running off without protection. I love you as if you were one of my own, dear, and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt."
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, touched by her devotion. She really had been the closest thing to a mother he’d ever known, but she had to understand right now that she couldn’t stop him from doing what he had to do. "Don’t think I don’t appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, because I do. No one has ever done that, and it means the world to me…but you can’t protect me from this. I’m more than involved in this fight…I am this fight. It centers around me more than you realize-"
"I know you’ve suffered more than most in this whole wretched war, Harry, but you’re still very young — too young to be fighting. You’re still in school," Mrs. Weasley said, desperately. Tears filled her eyes, and Harry felt like a heel for hurting her after all she’d done for him, but he’d come this far. He couldn’t turn back now.
"It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Weasley. Professor Dumbledore gave me a job to do. We were working on it the night he died, and I intend to finish it," Harry said firmly, glancing at Ginny to gauge her reaction.
She’d silently watched the exchange, an unreadable expression on her face as she stood behind her mother. She’d stayed in the room to offer her unconditional support, but Harry knew she’d insist upon some answers soon.
"What do you mean Professor Dumbledore gave you a job to do? Certainly Albus didn’t mean for you to put yourself in harm’s way," Mrs. Weasley asked shrilly. He watched as she swelled with indignation, ready to unleash her outrage on a man who was no longer there to take it.
"We’re all in harm’s way, Mrs. Weasley, and I’m going to do everything I can to stop it. I can’t tell you anything more right now, but I’m asking you to please trust me on this," Harry said, staring intently into Mrs. Weasley’s watery eyes.
"I’m not going to tell you I’m happy about this, Harry, because I’m not, but I know I can’t stop you," Mrs. Weasley said, sniffling. "Ginny, go upstairs and change your clothes. I’ll start breakfast."
Harry hung his head wearily as Mrs. Weasley bustled from the room. That hadn’t gone as well as he hoped, and he wondered if he’d get a similar reaction from the rest of the Order. He dreaded her reaction when she learned that not only wasn’t Harry returning to school, but he was taking Ron and Hermione with him.
Ginny squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as she left the room. Harry got up and stretched. He had to talk with Ron and Hermione and begin making some plans for finding the other Horcruxes, but now all he wanted was a hot shower. He felt dirty and abused somehow, and desperately wanted to clean the filth away.
***
As he’d suspected, the shower helped immensely. He had a clear head and felt ready to confront Ron and Hermione with his startling news. He’d sunk as low as he’d ever felt in his life the previous evening, and he felt there was no place to go from here but up. He didn’t want to die, but if that was the only way…
Ron and Hermione wouldn’t like it, but they were as committed to ending Voldemort’s reign as he was; they’d do whatever it took. Perhaps they could even help him figure out what would be the easiest way to….to…to eliminate the seventh Horcrux.
Harry was doing better than he’d been when he’d first heard Wormtail’s news, but it was still easier to separate the thing from himself, even in his own mind. It made it easier to think about what he had to do, anyway. He’d need to do it at virtually the same time as he killed Voldemort. Perhaps Hermione could help him figure out a way to take care of both things simultaneously.
After his shock had worn off, a new determination had settled over Harry. If it had to be someone, it was better that it be him. He couldn’t stand to have anyone else die for him, and his entire family might be waiting for him on the other side. He knew his friends would miss him, but it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving any family behind. Better that it was him rather than one of them. That was his driving force at the moment, anyway.
He was so lost in thought as he emerged from the bathroom that he walked right into someone who’d been waiting for the shower.
"Pardon," he said, the rest of the words dying in his throat. He blinked in surprise.
Standing right there in front of him, wearing an expensive-looking dressing gown with a golden "M" emblazoned on the left pocket and an infuriating self-satisfied smirk, was Draco Malfoy. His usually sleek blonde hair was mussed as if he’d just awoken, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Harry.
"Do watch where you’re going, Potter," Malfoy said, wiping imagined dirt from his dressing gown. "I can’t believe I’m being forced to share a bathroom, never mind having to share it with you."
Harry’s shock melted into rage. "Malfoy," he spat. "I may have said you could stay here, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, so stay out of my way."
"You said I could stay here?" Malfoy said incredulously. "I’m staying here because your precious Order needs me. I’m the only one who can give them the kind of information they need. This house is rightfully mine, anyway. It belongs in my family. I’m certain there is a will lying around somewhere that will declare it as true; my mother will see to it that it goes to me. Best be nice to me, Potter, or when that happens I’ll have your own Order chuck you out on your arse."
"Here’s a bit of a news flash, Draco," Harry said, clenching his teeth. "The will has already been found and confirmed. This house and everything in it belongs to me. Imagine that. Me, owning all this stuff that belongs in your family lineage."
Harry ignored Malfoy’s expression of stunned outrage, picked up an ancient-looking vase that was resting on a display table in the hallway and cavalierly tossed it in the air.
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