"Dumbledore was a fool, and his fondness for the boy was one of his greatest weaknesses. I don’t want any of you to concern yourself with Potter. Leave him to me. I have very specific plans for the boy. He needs to learn what it means to defy me, but he is by no means a threat to our plans," Voldemort said.
Snape looked as if he would argue, but lowered his head and backed away. "Yes, Master."
"Have any of you incompetent fools learned how it was that the blood traitors managed to repel the Dementors from the wedding reception?" Voldemort asked in a low voice.
"Potter and the eldest Weasley, the one I marked as one of my den, managed to strengthen the wards, my Lord," Fenrir Greyback said.
"I see," Voldemort hissed. "I expect, Fenrir, that you will want to be the one to see that this Weasley is punished?"
"Yes, my Lord. I’ve marked him, and I am certain he is now feeling the frustration over how the Ministry regards our kind. He’ll be ripe to turn to our side once I make him a full werewolf," Greyback said, grinning maniacally.
"Excellent. What of our missing Malfoys? Have they been apprehended?" Voldemort asked.
The Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, but no one spoke.
"I asked a question, and I expect an answer," Voldemort said without raising his voice. Still, the threat in his tone was unmistakable.
"No, my Lord. They appear to have vanished," said a woman’s voice.
"How is this possible?" Voldemort asked.
Again, he was met with silence.
"Answer me," he bellowed, green sparks flashing from his wand.
"They could not have done it without aid," Bellatrix replied, still huddled on the floor. She gasped in pain as she rose on her knees. "My sister doesn’t have any contacts who would aid her against you, my Lord. An acquaintance of Draco’s must be offering them sanctuary."
Snape’s face remained impassive.
"I want them found and brought before me, along with whomever it was who facilitated their escape. Whichever of you finds them will, of course, earn my favor and a small measure of my gratitude," Voldemort said.
"What about Wormtail?’ Bellatrix asked. "He’s not here. Perhaps he allowed my sister to escape."
"Wormtail lacks the courage to do anything so bold. I am aware of his location, as I am aware of each of your assignments. Never forget that, Bella," he said menacingly.
"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said, wincing.
"You all have your orders; don’t disappoint me again. I will be far less gracious the next time we meet if you again have nothing to report but utter failure," he said, his cold, snakelike gaze raking over all of them. "Severus, please remain behind. I have something I need to discuss."
"Yes, my Lord," Snape said, bowing stiffly.
The remaining Death Eaters Disapparated as quickly as they could, eager both to do their master’s bidding and to be away from his wrath.
"It has been over a month since Albus Dumbledore’s death, Severus, and there has not been a single sign of movement towards any of my Horcruxes. I believe you were mistaken that Dumbledore would have made someone else aware of what he was doing," Voldemort said, his voice a low hiss.
Snape bowed his head and moved slowly toward the desk. "Of course you may be right, Master. However, I feel I knew the Headmaster very well after rendering my services to him for so very long. He always had contingency plans."
"Yet you’ve said that you’d lost some of his trust towards the end. You said you thought he was keeping something from you," Voldemort replied, his scarlet eyes narrowing into slits.
"Yes," Snape said, shifting uncomfortably. "He didn’t feel I was doing enough to learn what the Malfoy boy was planning. I was unable to reveal what I knew and without Draco’s cooperation, the stories I fabricated were proven false. As you know, Dumbledore always believed everyone could be saved. He’d hoped that I could offer the boy the chance to reform."
"Yes. His compassion was one of his greatest faults. He could never understand that there are those of us who never wanted to be saved," Voldemort said, a hideous smile twisting his face.
Snape grimaced as if swallowing something slimy and unpleasant. "He also refused to reveal what he was discussing with Potter on their many evenings together."
Voldemort waved his hand carelessly. "You said you’d ensured that Potter was unable to learn Occlumency the previous year. Perhaps Dumbledore attempted to teach the boy himself and caught on to your deceit."
Snape bristled, an ugly sneer crossing his sallow features. "The boy is incapable of using the simplest of techniques. Saying he was unable to learn was not far from the truth."
"Still, Dumbledore was fond of the boy," Voldemort said, apparently amused by Snape’s naked hatred of Harry.
"Yes," Snape replied through gritted teeth. "He was so fond of him that he often allowed the boy to interfere in matters that should have been left to those more capable. I fear that Potter might actually be the one Dumbledore confided in about the Horcruxes. The boy’s ego is certainly large enough that he would believe it was something he could handle."
"Ridiculous. Dumbledore always had a weakness for his favorites, but he would never share the information that could destroy me with a sixteen-year-old boy. Be careful, Severus, your jealousy is showing," Voldemort said, amused.
Snape cocked his head slightly. "If I may respectfully point out, my Lord, you assigned a sixteen-year-old a similar task."
Voldemort’s smile faded and his eyes narrowed again. "I assigned the Malfoy boy his job as a punishment to his father. I knew he’d be unable to complete his task, and I was right. It was you, Severus, who destroyed my enemy. I never expected the Malfoy boy to survive. Dumbledore was far too noble to ever willingly place anyone he considered a child in such danger. His love for the Potter boy would never have allowed it."
Snape scowled. "My Lord-"
"Enough! I do not want to hear any more of this, Severus. I have plans for Harry Potter. I believe the prophecy referred to him as a threat because he is a Horcrux, not because he is anything special on his own. Once I realized what had happened, it became clear to me. I can handle Harry Potter. He is no longer a threat to me. My plans to dismantle the Ministry can now begin. There is no one who can stop me," Voldemort said, his eyes glowing.
"Yes, Master," Snape replied, an uneasy frown upon his face. It was no secret that Snape believed that Harry’s reputation was highly overrated, but he also had to know that it wasn’t wise to underestimate the boy. He had a nasty habit of being in the right place at the right time.
Chapter Nine
Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
Harry awoke early on the morning of his birthday after a night mercifully unmarred by dreams. Lying in bed and luxuriating in the feel of the warm sunlight streaming though a crack in the curtains, he breathed deeply.
He was finally of age, finally a man.
The Dursleys briefly crossed his mind. The magic his mother invoked by giving her life for his would have ended at midnight. He wondered idly what that would mean for the Dursleys, if anything. He knew the Order was still keeping an eye on Privet Drive, and he also knew the Dursleys
would never accept an offer to go into hiding. As far as they were concerned, they were done with him and his world. For their sake, Harry hoped that was true.
He suspected that before they had departed, Ron and Hermione had done something to let the Dursleys know they were unhappy with the treatment Harry had received through the years. He purposefully hadn’t asked them, however. If he didn’t know what they’d done, there was no way he could feel guilty about it. Besides, it wasn’t as if the Dursleys didn’t deserve a bit of torment, anyway.
Shaking his head, he tried to steer his thoughts away from his relatives. He never had to go back, and that felt good. He had a busy day ahead, and tomorrow…tomorrow his adventure would begin. Remus had supplied him with a magical tent, and it was now tucked away inside his rucksack. The four teens had packed lightly, uncertain how long they would be gone and not wanting to have to lug heavy bags with them.
He and Ron had an appointment at the Ministry at nine o’clock to take their Apparation tests. Mr. Weasley had agreed to accompany them to the testing center on his way to work. Harry was looking forward to it, although slightly apprehensive that Rufus Scrimgeour would try to take advantage of his appearance at the Ministry.
Harry glanced over at Ron’s bed and was surprised to find it empty. It was a rare occasion that Ron was up before Harry. He knew that Ron was feeling extremely nervous about the test, and he hoped that his friend wouldn’t let his nerves unhinge him. They had to be able to Apparate once they began their quest. Harry was nervous about the fact that Ginny would have to SideAlong for another year before she was of age, although she’d hinted at the fact that she already knew how to do it.
His door opened with a creak, startling him, and he squinted his unfocused eyes at the blur of red streaking towards him.
"Good morning, Harry! Happy Birthday," Ginny squealed, kissing him soundly as she sat on the edge of his bed.
Harry grinned widely, feeling inexplicably giddy all of a sudden. "Thanks, Ginny. I’d have turned seventeen sooner if I’d known I’d get a greeting like that," he said, smiling cheekily.
Ginny grinned and gently ran her hand along the side of his face. "Mum’s making an enormous birthday breakfast, so I hope you’re hungry."
"I am," he said, turning to kiss her hand. "I hope this test goes all right for both of us. I’ll be happy when it’s done and over with. Where is Ron? Have you seen him?"
"He’s in the kitchen. Mum’s trying to coax him to eat something, but he looks really nervous. When will the prat ever learn that he only mucks it up because he convinces himself that he’s going to do so?" she asked in exasperation.
"I know," Harry said, grimacing. "He’s not a prat though; he’s just nervous."
"He’s a prat," Ginny said firmly. "Everything is all set to go tomorrow. I hope Mum won’t be too upset."
"I know," Harry replied worriedly. He really didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Weasley, but he also knew that she’d never allow them to leave without knowing where they were going. Even if they’d come up with a plausible excuse, she’d most likely resist the idea of their leaving the safety of headquarters.
Hermione’s mum had found the name and address of the orphanage fairly quickly. Luckily, it was still open and hadn’t been torn down or converted into anything else. Its location wasn’t all that far from the Leaky Cauldron, although they’d decided it was safer to avoid the pub and travel as Muggles.
They planned to sneak out of Grimmauld Place at dawn, before the rest of the household had arisen. He was certain that they’d have to deal with the fallout upon their return, but he hoped by then to have one more Horcrux recovered. It would put him on firmer ground while holding off the Order.
"Hopefully, this little battle of wills she’s been having with Narcissa Malfoy will keep her occupied so she won’t fret too much," Ginny said, biting her lip.
Narcissa Malfoy had yet to make an appearance since they’d all arrived at Grimmauld Place. She’d remained sequestered in her rooms, requesting that meals be sent up to her. Mrs. Weasley had prepared the trays nicely enough, but she’d refused to deliver them to her, forcing Narcissa to either get them herself or have someone else do it. Mrs. Malfoy had also refused to return any of the trays to the kitchen after using them, and Mrs. Weasley was determined not to collect the growing pile that stood in the hallway. She wanted Mrs. Malfoy to return and clean them herself.
"I’ll be sorry to miss that row when it happens," Harry said, grinning.
"Yeah. I’ve noticed Fred and George have been hanging around a lot recently. I think they’re just hoping to be here when everything blows," Ginny replied.
"I hope your mum and dad won’t be too angry with me when they realize we’ve left," Harry said. "They’ve done a lot for me." Although he didn’t say it, the idea of the Weasleys’ disapproval troubled him greatly. They meant a lot to him.
"Don’t fret now, Harry. We’ll deal with things as they come, together. Actually, I think Dad might suspect we’re up to something. He’s not as unaware of what’s happening around him as he sometimes appears," Ginny said, smiling fondly. "He’ll help with Mum. He’s not having as hard a time admitting we’ve all grown up as she is."
Harry wondered if that were true for Ginny as well as her brothers. Somehow, he suspected that Mr. Weasley might have a much harder time accepting the idea that his little girl had grown up enough to run off with a boy in order to face an insane Dark wizard and a bunch of Death Eaters than the fact that one of his sons had done it.
When Harry remained silent, she reached out and gently caressed the side of his face. He leaned his head into her palm, relishing the comfort.
"How are you doing?" she asked, her expression grave. He knew at once exactly what she meant.
None of them had discussed the Seventh Horcrux with him since his startling revelation. It was as if the subject had become taboo, and they all tiptoed around it carefully while discussing anything to do with the search. On several occasions, he’d discovered Ginny, Ron and Hermione with their heads huddled together and whispering frantically, although they always broke apart when he’d entered the room.
He suspected they’d spent a lot of time discussing him and seeking a possible escape from his situation. The fact none of them had approached him didn’t bode well, and Harry didn’t have the heart to ask. He was only holding it all together by moving forward and keeping his eye on the prize.
One Horcrux at a time had become his mantra.
"I’m okay," he whispered, shrugging. "Have to be, don’t I?"
"Not with me," she whispered gently. "I promised myself to be the one to prop you back up if you falter. You might be determined to save the wizarding world, but I’m determined to save you."
A lump rose in Harry’s throat as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Speaking into her shoulder he said, "That might not be possible, Ginny."
Ginny’s grip tightened around him. "It is possible. Anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve. I’ve told you that before, don’t you remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," Harry said, smiling. "You came to my rescue then, too."
"That’s me, Ginny Weasley: hero rescuer," she said, still clutching him tightly. He could feel rather than see her grin.
"I’m no hero," he said gruffly. "I don’t even know what I’m doing."
"It’ll be all right, Harry. I know it seems insurmountable when you look at what we’ve got to do as a whole, but if we take it a little at a time, sooner or later the puzzle pieces will come together and everything will fit," Ginny said. He couldn’t see her face, but her voice sounded confident, and it soothed him.
"You make me feel like I can do anything," he whispered.
"You can."
"I saw my mum and dad’s graves when I was in Godric’s Hollow," he said. He’d left that part of the story out when he’d told them all about
Wormtail. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly had the urge to talk about it with her.
"That must have been hard for you," she said, running her fingers through his hair.
Harry shrugged, enjoying the sensation her fingers were creating. "It was strange. I’ve always wondered about them, but I thought when I finally saw their resting place that I’d feel some sort of connection to them or something. I dunno. It’s stupid really."
"It isn’t stupid, Harry."
"It was hard to be there; it made me think of how different things should have been, but I didn’t feel like they were there. I didn’t feel any different about them then I always had. Does that make any sense?" Harry asked.
"I suppose," Ginny said carefully, "that maybe it’s not the place where they are buried that connects us to the people we’ve lost, but the feelings we have inside for them. I’ve never lost anyone really close to me, so it’s not like I know what I’m talking about, but Mum lost a couple of her brothers in the last war. I never knew them because they died before I was born, but I know she still talks to them sometimes, particularly when she’s feeling stressed. Fred and George were named for them, well, their initials anyway.
"I don’t remember Mum ever going to their graves, but it doesn’t mean she loved them any less. Maybe some people need a grave as a place to grieve and others don’t. You never had a gravesite to go to, right? You’ve always just known they died, so you’ve found other ways to feel connected to them."
"I suppose," Harry said, burrowing his face into her hair and smelling that sweet floral scent he loved so much. Until he was eleven, he’d believed his parents had died in a car accident. He could remember lying in his cupboard and having imaginary conversations with them. He’d never considered that it was a form of grieving.
"So, what do you want to do for your birthday?" Ginny asked, and he knew she was trying to cheer him up. Feeling in the mood to actually celebrate his birthday for a change, he let her.
"I know exactly what I want to do," he said, nibbling on her ear, "but I think your mum might object if we spend the day up here — not to mention your army of brothers."
Ginny giggled, moving her head to give him better access to her neck. She moaned softly as he continued to plant kisses along the slender column of her throat, and he thought the sound might drive him mad.
Harry had just managed to relax and begin to enjoy himself when he heard Mrs. Weasley hollering to them that breakfast was ready. Harry and Ginny broke apart reluctantly, both panting and looking rather rumpled.
"Well," Ginny said, standing up and straightening her clothing. "It’s nice to see that my mum’s timing is as impeccable as always."
"Yeah," Harry replied grumpily, attempting unsuccessfully to flatten his extremely mussed up hair. "It’s just brilliant."
"Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to continue our activities once we’re out from under her eye," Ginny said with an impish wink. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she turned and left the room, leaving a gaping Harry to follow in her wake. Her words had sent his mind into overdrive, and he was suddenly very keen to begin their quest for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with Horcruxes.
When they entered the kitchen, they found it already crowded. Everyone turned to stare, causing both of them to blush brightly. Harry was surprised to see Ginny coloring; she was usually better at not letting her family get to her than he was.
"Appears as if our birthday boy might have already received one of his presents," Fred said innocently.
Harry felt heat flame in his face and neck and knew that he’d turned even redder, if that were possible.
"Shut it, you," Ginny said in a low voice, piling a scoop of scrambled eggs onto a plate. She handed the plate to Harry and filled another for herself.
"Yes, Ginny," George said, grinning mischievously. "What took you so long? Was it hard to get Harry to rise this morning?"
Harry choked on his eggs, looking around wildly to make certain Mrs. Weasley was still busy at the stove and hadn’t overheard their conversation.
Ginny appeared to have regained her composure. She casually cast her eyes downward at Harry and muttered, "Not really."
Fred and George sat motionless except for their eyes, which darted back and forth between Harry and Ginny. They wore identical stunned expressions before both broke out in hearty laughter.
Harry wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He was certain any one of her many brothers was about to curse him from existence. He was glad he’d at least come of age, so he could defend himself when they chose to attack. He glanced warily at Ron only to find that his friend wasn’t even paying attention to them. He was pushing food around on his plate and glancing at his watch every few seconds. Ron was impatient to leave.
Sensing Harry’s stare, Ron looked up. "Get moving, Harry. You don’t have time to eat. Dad’s ready to take us to the Ministry; he just went to grab his cloak."
"Ron," Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s arm as he went to stand. "This is his birthday breakfast; he should get to enjoy some of it."
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