PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: MyGinevra

Story: Losing Each Other

Part: 13: The Words of Dumbledore

Rating: Young Teens

Status: Completed

Reviews: 9

Words: 6,188

Updated: June 23, 2009, 4:15pm

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13: The Words of Dumbledore

As soon as Ginny, Harry, and Ron landed, they pulled Hermione out of her book and told her they were returning to Hogwarts, that day if possible. Everyone else had gone back to the Burrow, and when the four entered the kitchen everyone else was also preparing to leave and saying their goodbyes. Arthur, Tonks, and Kingsley were leaving for the Ministry; the twins, Bill, and Fleur were off to Diagon Alley; Hermione’s parents were returning to their home; and the Pendragons were going to visit relatives in Scotland before Elspeth went back to school. Hermione decided to go with her parents, then return to the Burrow and Floo into Hogwarts and rejoin her friends there.

Lupin and Moody were returning to twelve Grimmauld Place. New circumstances called for new plans to fight Voldemort, and someone needed to be where other members of the Order could come to learn the new magic that Harry had discovered.

Remus pulled Harry aside. “We tried your Patronus last night. We’re all close, very close. It would be good if you taught it to Ron and Hermione and Ginny up at school.”

“What will happen now?” Harry asked. “Will the Ministry really go after Voldemort?”

Lupin sighed. “I’ve thought before that they would. We’ll just have to see.”

After the taxi came to take Hermione and her parents, only Ron, Ginny, and Harry were left with Mrs. Weasley. When Ron told her their plans, she turned to Ginny, who was feeding Harry a sausage at the table; Ginny put it down when her mother looked.

“I’d like you to wait until tomorrow,” Molly said. “I think your father should know.”

“So send him an owl,” Ron suggested with a mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“Well, we could do that.... Still, it’s kind of sudden.”

Ginny was watching her mother. “Mum, is it that you don’t want to be alone? We can wait a day, can’t we?” she asked Harry.

“Of course,” Harry nodded. “That’s fine, Mrs. Weasley. No problem.”

Molly looked relieved, and started putting food away. She stopped suddenly, and stared at the Weasley family clock. The hands were now pointing slightly away from Mortal Peril. “Look!” she cried, and turned to Harry. “Harry! You’ve changed the hands!”

“What? I didn’t mean to. I mean — Oh, I see.” He grinned sheepishly. “I don’t think it was me.”

“You’re the savior of the Weasley family,” Ginny declared. He turned red and put his head down. Molly smiled and started humming Christmas carols as she finished cleaning up the kitchen.

They decided that Harry would start teaching Ron how to conjure a fiery Patronus, and after breakfast the three went outside. As they walked to the clearing Harry spoke to Ginny.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that stuff, I’m not anyone’s savior. I don’t even know if I can save myself.”

“I was only joking,” Ginny answered, “but I do like to say things like that to you.”

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Okay, then I won’t.”

“I mean, if you really want to, I guess it’s okay.”

“No, no. If you don’t like it, I won’t do it.”

“It’s okay, really. I didn’t mean to be bossy.”

“It wasn’t bossy. You were right.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t tell you what to say.”

Ron put his hands over his ears. “For gosh sakes, will you two stop it? Even Hermione and I don’t talk like that.”

“The ultimate put–down,” Ginny laughed. She took Harry’s hands and pressed herself against him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Why do you torture me like this?” Harry mumbled as, ignoring Ron, he gathered her in and kissed her.

“Cough, cough,” Ron said loudly after several minutes. “Aren’t we here to learn some magic?”

“We did,” Harry and Ginny both said at the same time, and giggled. Harry reluctantly separated himself from her.

“Okay.” He took out his wand and smiled at Ginny. “I know what my happy memory will be this time.”

Harry shut his eyes and thought back to the Dementor attack. In a moment the golden–white stag burst from his wand. It galloped off to the end of the clearing and stopped. Its eyes glowed like coals; it pawed the ground and sparks shot from its hoof. It looked around the clearing once, then at Harry, and vanished.

Ginny and Ron stood transfixed. “My God, that was beautiful!” Ron said. “It didn’t see anything to attack, so it disappeared, right?” He looked questioningly at Harry.

“I guess so. Go ahead, you try it.”

He moved aside and stood next to Ginny. Ron pointed his wand, looked back at Harry, and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, something white and shapeless popped out of his wand and fell to the ground. The grass underneath it started smoking, and Ron jumped back and let out a yell. “Hey, it’s working! I did it!”

“Well, at least that patch of grass won’t be attacking you again anytime soon,” Ginny said dryly.

Ron scowled. “Go ahead, if you’re so brilliant. Let’s see what you can do.”

“I can’t, Ronald. I’m underage. I ought to report you for encouraging the illegal use of magic.”

Ron worked for almost an hour until he was exhausted. His Patronus never flew, but it was starting to look more and more like a Jack Russell terrier, and it set enough of the clearing on fire that Harry had to use Aguamenti to put it out.

Hermione arrived in the early evening, surprised to find them still there. Ron stayed with her in the kitchen while she ate, and Harry and Ginny found themselves alone in the parlor with a toasty fire crackling. Ginny curled up next to Harry on the sofa, her head on his shoulder.

“Did you see the article in the Prophet?” she asked. “It was all over the front page. So was your photo.”

“I didn’t see it. Was your picture in it?”

“On page five. I didn’t like it. It made my hair look like radishes.”

“Your hair is beautiful.” Harry ran his hand through it. “How was the article?”

“Pretty good, actually. That reporter sounded like a moron when he was here, but the story was intelligent, believe it or not.”

“Well,” Harry sighed, “I won’t be the only notorious one at Hogwarts now. Everyone will be asking you about it.”

They watched the fire in silence. Ginny snuggled closer to Harry. “It’s going to seem very different at school,” she purred. “I used to spend so much time thinking about you, and then thinking about me. Now I’ll just think about us.”

“Do you know what I’m looking forward to?” Harry said as the fire snapped and sparks flew onto the hearth. “Not fighting anything but Voldemort. Not fighting you, not looking for reasons to avoid you, not fighting to keep you out of my mind.”

“I like being there,” Ginny giggled.

Harry put his arm around her. “This is the calm before the storm, you know. We might not have another peaceful moment like this for a long time. Or ever.”

Ginny sat up; her eyes were glistening. “I know,” she whispered, “so let’s make the most of it. Discretely,” she added with a smile. “My parents...”

“I can be very discreet,” Harry said, and pulled her closer.

The next morning, shortly after Arthur Weasley left for work and Fleur arrived to stay with Molly, they all gathered in the kitchen. Ginny wore her dragon–hide boots, and her lion clasp in her hair. Molly was not totally happy about spending the entire day with her daughter–in–law, but no one else could come to stay with her. She took a pot of Floo powder from the cupboard; she was already crying.

“You all must promise you’ll be careful. Harry, dear,” she hugged him tightly, “this is your home now, you know that, don’t you?” Then she held him at arms length. “I am so happy that you and Ginny will be together now. You’ll look after her, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped into the fireplace first, and when he emerged in Professor McGonagall’s office she was sitting behind her desk and Professor Dumbledore was in the foreground of his portrait, peering over her shoulder at the parchment before her. He looked up.

“Harry!” he beamed. “So good to see you. I hear you’ve been quite busy this holiday.”

McGonagall gave Harry a dry look. “How nice to see you, Mr. Potter. So you’ve decided to return to Hogwarts?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry grinned. “It’s like a second home, you know.”

“Oh, and which is your first home? Surely not Privet Drive?”

There was a flash of green flame, and Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace; Harry grabbed her hand and grinned again. “No, not Privet Drive.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Well, Miss Weasley, I’m glad to see you got him to come to his senses. Although, as I understand, it took some magical convincing of a very unpleasant sort to help the process along. Seriously, though, Harry, you’ve done some very special things this past week. I hope you realize that.”

Harry was spared having to acknowledge this embarrassing compliment by the arrival of Ron in a large cloud of ashes and smoke.

“Went too far,” he coughed, and started brushing off his clothes.

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall barked. “That’s a seven–hundred-year-old rug you’re making a mess on! I’ll thank you to desist, clean it up, and remove yourself from my office!”

“Boy, some things never change,” Ron muttered as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. “She’s been getting on my nerves for a while.”

Hermione, who had appeared in an even larger cloud of ash just as Ron finished cleaning the rug, was unsympathetic. “You told your mum she wasn’t giving us enough Floo powder. Next time let someone who knows what they’re doing measure it. Ugh. Now I have to wash my hair again.”

They climbed through the portrait hole using the password that the Headmistress had given them, with a nod to Harry: “Clear skies above.” The common room was empty. A fire was lit, though, and Harry noticed two small feet with unmatched socks sticking out from one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, and they could hear someone snoring. They went over and found Dobby, asleep with a large bouquet of wild flowers in his hand. They stood in front of him, whispering to each other, wondering why he was there.

Dobby awoke with a start, and jumped up in the chair. “Harry Potter! It is you!” he squealed. He tried to bow, but lost his balance on the cushion, and would have fallen if Harry hadn’t caught him.

“Dobby, what are you doing here? What are those flowers?” Harry tried to hide his amusement.

“Harry Potter must not ask why Dobby would be here. Dobby hears that Harry Potter and his friends are coming back to school early, and so Dobby makes a nice fire for them and brings a bunch of pretty flowers for Harry’s old–new girlfriend!” The house–elf blushed, and bowed to Ginny, and this time he fell off the chair before Harry could catch him.

“Dobby, that’s so sweet.” Ginny helped Dobby stand, and took the bouquet. “They’ll be beautiful in my room.”

Dobby smiled and blinked, and took off his hats. “We hears about Ginny Weasley, and guess what? For dinner tonight, everyone at Hogwarts will share a special feast in her honor.” He beamed, and bowed to Ginny again. “Now Dobby must go back to work. Welcome back to Hogwarts!” He jumped back into the chair, and vanished.

“Now that’s a welcome–and–a–half,” Ron said. “Word travels fast in the house–elf world.” He grinned at Harry.

Harry was frowning at the chair where Dobby had taken his leave. “I’ve been wondering about something,” he said thoughtfully. “I think we need to pay Dobby a visit, after we get settled in.” They looked at him, but he said no more.

They went up to their rooms to see if their trunks had arrived, and then Harry, Ron, and Ginny waited in the common room in front of the fire Dobby had made while Hermione went to have a shower. When they were all together again, Harry announced that he wanted to go down to the kitchen immediately and talk to Dobby.

“About what?” Hermione asked. “How long will it take? Ginny and I want to try a fiery Patronus.”

“I don’t think very long,” Harry answered.

They went down to the basement corridor, tickled the pear in the bowl of fruit, and entered the kitchen. A cry went up, and dozens of smiling elves surrounded them. Dobby, with countless hats piled on his head, pushed his way through, but he had an uncustomary careful look on his face.

“Harry Potter comes to the kitchen and Dobby is glad to see him, but Dobby thinks he is not here just to say ‘hello, Dobby, how is you?’”

“Well, that’s right.” Harry glanced at his friends. “I was wondering if we could ask you something, but not here.”

Dobby nodded solemnly, and led them out of the kitchen; the other elves whispered to each other, and cast questioning looks at Dobby. He sighed. “They thinks Dobby is not a very good house–elf, but they likes me because Harry Potter is my friend.”

“You are my friend,” Harry told him. “You’ve helped me a lot, Dobby, and I need more help now. But let’s not talk here.”

They went back up to the still empty common room and settled around the fireplace. They all looked at Harry in anticipation, but Dobby also seemed uneasy. “What does Harry Potter want to know?”

“Dobby,” Harry said quietly, “the house–elves know everything that happens at Hogwarts, don’t they?”

“Oh, yes, yes, they does. Most wizards and witches are not like Harry Potter. They doesn’t pay any attention to poor house–elves, ever. So house–elves get to see what they does, and they don’t notice!” He smiled.

“Right. So, if a student, say, was hiding something, a house–elf might see him do it.”

Dobby hesitated, and looked uncomfortably at Harry. “Does Harry Potter know who was hiding something?”

“I’m not sure he hid anything, Dobby. But I think you know who I mean.”

Dobby expression became miserable. He peered up at Harry, and his large, green eyes began to fill with tears. “Harry Potter wants to know about He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named.”

“Dobby, many years ago, after he was a student, Voldemort came back and asked Headmaster Dumbledore for a job as a teacher. He didn’t get the job, but he may have hidden something here. Do you think any of the house–elves saw him do it, or maybe they heard stories about it from an elf who was here then?”

Now Dobby was shaking. He put his face in his hands and began to weep.

Hermione leaned forward and put her hand on Dobby’s shoulder. “Why are you frightened?” she asked gently. “He can’t hurt you as long as you’re at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, Miss Granger! Then how did evil wizards get inside Hogwarts castle and kill Professor Dumbledore?” he said between sobs. “Harry Potter asks Dobby a question, and Dobby must answer because Harry Potter is the greatest wizard in the world, and is Dobby’s best friend.” He broke down completely, howling and moaning, his body heaving with sobs.

Harry stood up. “Dobby, no! I didn’t want to upset you. Please, stop crying. I didn’t mean it.”

He looked helplessly at Hermione. She knelt in front of the elf and stroked his arm. Dobby gradually calmed down; soon his sobs had become hiccups, and then sniffles. Harry sat down again; he looked almost as stricken as Dobby, and Ginny took his hand. Dobby peeked at her, and sniffed a few more times.

“Ginny Weasley is beautiful, and she is in grave danger,” he squeaked. “But so is all of us, especially after Dobby tells — Oh!” He jumped up from the chair, gave a loud shriek, and disappeared.

They sat in stunned silence. Finally Ron spoke. “Well, that could have gone better.”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “do you really believe if Voldemort hid a Horcrux in the castle, that Dumbledore wouldn’t know?”

“If you think about it, there’re lots of things he didn’t know. Like the Chamber of Secrets. Or Dumbledore’s Army. He always said that he didn’t know everything about Hogwarts.”

Ginny spoke for the first time. “How did you know that Voldemort came here for a job?”

Harry told her about the memory Dumbledore had shown him in the Pensieve. Ginny thought for a moment. “But you have to make a Horcrux by killing someone, and if Voldemort had murdered someone here, surely we would have heard of it. And there would be another ghost hanging around like Moaning Myrtle.”

“Maybe you can make a Horcrux in one place and carry it to another,” Ron suggested.

“That’s right,” Hermione said. “There’s a lot we don’t know about them.”

Again they sat in silence, but they watched Harry.

He passed his hand over his eyes. “I don’t know either. Something’s really scaring Dobby, and maybe it has to do with the Horcrux, or maybe it just has to do with Voldemort. He could have done something to the house–elves when he came back. Or maybe he did something to them when he was a student.”

“We can try asking him later,” Ginny said.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to do that to him again.”

Ginny pressed his arm. “Then let’s go outside. I want to try a fiery Patronus.”

They went downstairs and walked to an open area on the lawn just outside the castle entrance. It was cloudy, and a light mist obscured the hills across the lake, but it was not nearly as foggy as it had been before Christmas. Once again, Harry produced a stag with red eyes and hooves that flamed. Ron’s dog was still not completely formed, but it was recognizable and stayed in the air for a few seconds.

“That’s good, Ron!” Hermione said. “Let me try it now.”

She walked forward a few paces and extended her wand. A pure white otter emerged; it landed on the ground in front of her, and then shot across the grass, leaving a scorched path behind it. But it vanished almost immediately.

“Not bad at all,” Harry observed. “Especially for a first try.”

“Actually, I practiced at home a bit,” Hermione said with a blush. “Mum and Dad were at work, so I went out into the back garden. It’s got big shrubs all around and no one can see!” she added hastily, as the others reacted with varying degrees of shock.

“Okay, if you say so,” Harry responded. “Ginny?”

Ginny looked at him so fiercely for a moment that Harry was taken aback. Before he could say anything she turned and pointed her wand. But like Ron’s first try, a shapeless blob emerged that dropped to the ground. The grass immediately caught fire, and the others had to stomp it out.

“It looks like the Weasley syndrome,” Harry teased. “You’ve got something there, but who knows what it is?”

Ginny scowled at him, and, without taking her eyes from his, pointed her wand out across the lawn. This time she produced a recognizable phoenix, the same color as Harry’s stag. It, too, vanished almost immediately.

“Syndrome that!” she proclaimed.

Harry laughed, and clapped his hands. “Ginny, you are spectacular! I love you!”

“Hah! It’s my bird you love, not me.”

“I love you and your bird and your lion.” He touched the golden lion clasp in her hair with his wand.

A flash of light sparked from the clasp, and Harry jumped back. Ginny turned, looking for the source of the light.

“It’s your hair thing!” Ron cried. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be magical.”

“It wasn’t,” Ginny said. “George tested it when I bought it. Harry, you did something to it.”

Harry was holding his wand up and examining it. “I wasn’t trying to do magic,” he said in a puzzled voice.

“Strange,” Hermione said. “You should ask Professor Flitwick to look at your wand again. Maybe it got damaged in the graveyard.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s working fine.”

Ron started to talk about lunch, so they went back inside and straight into the Great Hall. Only a few students had stayed at school over the holiday, and they all came over to the Gryffindor table. Everyone had read the story in the Prophet about the destruction of the Dementors at the Burrow, and everyone had questions for Harry and Ginny. After the meal the four went back to the common room. Harry and Ron went up to the boys’ dormitory, and Ginny and Hermione went to their rooms. Harry was soon back downstairs, as was Ginny. When Hermione followed, she glanced quickly at them, then went up the boys’ staircase. After a quarter of an hour Harry grunted. “I guess they’re busy. Want to take a walk around the castle?”

As they left the common room, Ginny noticed that Harry was carrying his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map. “Will we be needing those?” she asked.

“You can never tell,” Harry answered.

They wandered through the corridors, holding hands, lost in their thoughts and not talking. Being back at school had made Harry realize that in less than six months he would be finished at Hogwarts, and he wondered if he would live to see it. The instant he had chosen to return to Ginny, a desperation to survive this war had begun to grow inside him. Before, there were times when he had thought he might not care very much about living, as long as Voldemort was dead. Now it had all changed. He squeezed her hand.

Ginny returned the pressure, and she realized in turn that she and Harry were now on their own, away from her parents, and that their time was their own. It certainly felt different from when they were together last year. Now she felt completely included in Harry’s plans and, more and more, in almost every moment of Harry’s thoughts. She had felt a change in his temper in the last few minutes, and marveled, in a flood of emotion, that she could sense his mood so readily; this one seemed somber. She squeezed his hand.

Soon they were back on the seventh floor in front of the tapestry with Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls. Harry stopped at the wall where the door to the Room of Requirement would be.

Ginny nodded. “I was wondering when we would get to this place. This is where you think Voldemort hid the Horcrux, isn’t it?”

Harry frowned. “It’s almost too obvious, though, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but you have to get in, first of all. Then you have to deal with the Horcrux. I don’t think any of that will be easy.”

Harry started pacing in front of the wall. I need to hide a Horcrux, he thought. I need to hide something very dangerous. I require a place to hide something I don’t ever want anyone else to find. Nothing happened.

Ginny tried it, then Harry again, then both of them together. They repeated everything, and the wall stayed blank.

“Damn!” Harry muttered. “I was so sure we could find it here.”

Ginny cried out, then covered her mouth as the sound echoed down the hallway. She looked at Harry triumphantly. “That’s it! We don’t need to hide a Horcrux, we need to find one!”

“That’s too easy. It can’t be that.”

“Just try it.” Ginny gave him a little push, and he started walking again. I need to find a Horcrux, he thought, and on his third pass a door appeared in the wall. Harry reached for the handle and started to open it, but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled it back. “Wait, let’s get Hermione and Ron first.” Harry frowned, but then he saw the anxiety on her face. “Please,” she said. He let go of the handle, but turned his head away and stared at the door.

“I want to go in there as soon as possible,” he said, “I need to get it over with, Ginny. I’m sorry, I know it’s scary and unfair, but until it’s all over we’ll never have any peace.”

You mean peace inside yourself, Ginny thought. “Come on,” she urged, “let’s go back to the common room. Maybe they’re waiting there.” She started to pull him away from the door, then looked down. Mrs. Norris was sitting at their feet, gazing at them with unblinking eyes.

“Oh, no!” Ginny whispered. “Filch must have heard me yell.”

Harry quickly unfolded the map, touched it with his wand and muttered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” As the halls and rooms of the castle appeared on it, they saw that Filch was only a few yards from the corner at the end of the corridor. Harry pulled Ginny away from the door, which vanished, and threw the Invisibility Cloak over them both.

Argus Filch came around the corner and walked slowly to the spot where Mrs. Norris was still sitting and still staring in the direction of Harry and Ginny. “Is anyone up here, my sweet?” He peered around the hall, and his gaze passed over them. They were holding each other tightly; Ginny pressed her head against Harry’s cheek and then kissed it gently. He lifted her face and kissed her lips. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and she gave a little moan, then slapped his back.

“Who’s there?” Filch called angrily. “You can’t hide forever. I’ll find you sooner or later!”

Harry still had his wand in his hand. He lifted it and pointed down the corridor. A torch mounted on the wall flared, and Filch spun around. “Got you now!” he shouted, and ran down the hall, then around the corner. Mrs. Norris hadn’t moved; she was still sitting and staring at them.

Ginny threw off the Cloak and tried to sound angry. “You are evil! You could have got us both detention even before school begins.”

“You started it,” Harry said innocently, “and you were the one who made all the noise.”

“Well, see if I ever go under that Cloak with you again. I’ll bet you’ve used it to lure innocent young witches to their downfall.”

“Only one.” Harry laughed, and Ginny kissed him. “Wait, look.” He pointed to the map. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room.

They left Mrs. Norris in front of the tapestry and hurried away. Hermione looked up from the Encyclopaedia Magica when they came through the portrait hole: Ron was asleep in the chair next to her.

“We found it,” Harry announced. “We found the Horcrux.”

“Huh?” Ron woke up and looked around. “Who did you find?”

“Mr. Horcrux,” Ginny said, and Harry chortled. “He’s in the Room of Requirement.”

“What’s he doing there?” Ron was still befuddled.

Hermione snapped her book shut and stood up, looking amazed. “How did you figure it out?”

“It was Ginny,” Harry said. “I kept trying to think of a place to hide one, then she said we didn’t want to hide one, we wanted to find one.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Ron declared, now completely awake.

“Thanks for the help, Ron,” Ginny said. “Now explain why it was so easy.”

“We didn’t go in yet,” Harry added. “We thought it would be best if we came and got you first.” Ginny put her hand on his shoulder briefly, and he smiled at her.

Hermione was frowning. “I can think of one reason why it would be easy. If Voldemort ever wanted to come back for it, he would want it to be as simple as possible to get to, assuming he could get into the castle itself. But if the first part is easy, then the second part must be a killer. Remember, it wasn’t that hard for you and Dumbledore to get into the cave, but look how hard it was to get the locket out of the bowl.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But we have to try.”

Ginny was beginning to feel another touch of uneasiness. Hermione’s words made it sink in that they were about to do something at least as dangerous as Harry’s entering the Chamber of Secrets to confront the Basilisk. But this time, Fawkes could not come to scratch out its eyes and deliver the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry could die today, soon.

Harry looked at her. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head. Her throat was dry; she had to swallow before she could answer. “I’m frightened, Harry. One of us could die in there.”

He put his arms around her. “I heard Professor Dumbledore say more than once that there are worse things than death. He said it to Voldemort, the night we all almost died in the Department of Mysteries. I think I’ve learned, just in the last four days, that living without you would be worse than death. But another thing worse than death is living in the same world as Voldemort. Ginny, he will try to kill me. The only hope I have is to kill him first.”

He stopped, and a light came into his eyes. “There’s one more hope, and it’s something else that Dumbledore said, so many times that it must have made him sick to repeat it. It’s stupidly simple, and that’s probably why it’s taken me so long to get it. Ginny, I love you, and that’s why we will win.”

Ginny held Harry tightly. After a moment, she pushed away. “I’m ready,” she said softly; she wiped her cheeks, and started for the portrait hole.

Hermione gave Harry, then Ron, a quick hug, and they followed Ginny out of the common room and around to the corridor outside the Room of Requirement. Mrs. Norris was gone, but a small brown shape was huddled at the bottom of the tapestry against the wall.

“Dobby,” Harry said gently, squatting next to him. “You didn’t have to come here.”

The house–elf had been weeping, and he took off one of his hats and blew his nose on it. Hermione reached in and took it.

“Don’t do that, Dobby,” she said. “I’ll make handkerchiefs for you, lots of them.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” he sniffed, and looked at Harry. “Dobby knew that you were coming here, Harry Potter, and Dobby knows what is inside the Come and Go Room, and what must happen. Please, Harry Potter, do not go in there!” He took off another hat as he began to sob and his nose began to run again.

“No.” Harry stopped Hermione from taking the hat. “Dobby, you don’t have to come inside. Stay outside and warn us if someone’s coming, like you did when Umbridge was here.”

Dobby blew his nose and stood up. “Dobby must do what Dobby must do,” he declared in as forceful a voice as Harry had ever heard from him. He marched to the opposite wall. “Open it!”

Harry began pacing, and the door appeared. They all took out their wands. Ginny’s heart was pounding; Ron swallowed and clenched his fist; Hermione was white as a sheet. Dobby looked at Harry. Harry turned the handle, opened the door, and peered inside. No one moved for several moments. Then Harry looked back, pushed the door wider, and went in. Dobby followed, and then the others. The door closed behind them and they lit their wands.

They found themselves in a very large, windowless room with a ceiling cris–crossed by arches. It was about a hundred feet square. There was nothing in it except a low platform at the far end; on it there were many objects that gave off a soft glow. They walked toward it. As they approached, they could see that the things were arranged in a large circle, with a small, indistinguishable mound in the center. When they got within a few yards, they stopped. The room was very quiet.

Each of the objects in the circle was identical: a glass case with a gold necklace inside. Each necklace had a small medallion attached with an ornate “R” engraved on it, surrounded by tiny, blue gems. They were all glowing with the same yellowish luminescence that Merlin’s wand had shown when it was lying on Merope’s coffin. Ron was the first to recognize the thing in the center, and the first to speak.

“That’s a house–elf,” he whispered, “and it looks dead.”

Dobby moaned, and Harry turned to him. “Is that who was killed to make the Horcrux?” he asked in a low voice.

Dobby nodded; he was crying silently and trembling almost uncontrollably. He put his arm around Harry’s leg and held it tightly.

Hermione walked up to the low platform. Ron hissed at her, “What are you doing? Get back!” She ignored him and walked part–way around, counting the glass cases. Then she came back.

“It’s a Death Circle,” she said, almost matter–of–factly. “I read about them yesterday in the Magica, volume four.”

“You already read four volumes?” Ron said in amazement.

“I’m almost finished with volume six. But this is not good, Harry.” She pointed to the platform. “We’re in no danger, as long as we don’t touch anything in the circle. There are forty–eight necklaces, one less than seven times seven. A Death Circle. All of the objects are identical, except in this case one of them contains part of Voldemort’s soul. I have no idea which one. The circle was created by someone’s death, and the only way to break it is if someone else dies. If anyone touches any of the objects before the circle is broken, then he’ll die, which of course will break the circle. But even if we break the circle, we’d still have to figure which necklace is the real Horcrux and how to destroy it. It’s horrible, sickening logic.”

“Something that Voldemort would love,” Harry said. “Dobby, do you know who the house–elf was?”

Dobby shook his head. He glanced sideways at Harry, who suddenly realized what Dobby was thinking. He grabbed the elf, and pulled him away from the platform; the others watched in astonishment.

“Dobby,” Harry said in as commanding a tone as possible, “you will NOT touch anything in that circle! I order you to leave it alone!”

“Harry Potter is not Dobby’s master,” Dobby said stubbornly. “Dobby does what Dobby pleases.”

“Damn it, Dobby, don’t be an idiot! We’ll figure out some other way.”

“Malfoys used to call Dobby names, too.”

“Are you saying I’m like Lucius Malfoy?” Harry was getting angry. “He would have killed you to get at that circle. Why are you doing this?”

Dobby’s bulging eyes grew even wider. “It is the only way Harry Potter can kill He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named, isn’t it? Dobby would not mind dying for that. Wouldn’t Harry Potter choose to die if he knew it would give Dobby the power to kill that one?”

This took Harry by surprise. It was almost as if Dobby had read his emotions, but his emotions from a week ago, not today. He knelt down in front of Dobby and took his hand.

“I did used to think that, but not any more. There’s someone else now. You know who I mean. Didn’t you ever have someone like Ginny?”

Dobby also knelt. “You is meaning Winky?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t you want to live, if you knew that Winky would miss you horribly?”

Ginny came and knelt next to Harry, and there were tears in her eyes. “I would miss you, too,” she said to Dobby.

“Ginny Weasley would miss Dobby?” The elf’s voice quavered. “Oh.” Tears flowed down his face; he took off a hat and wiped them, then blew his nose; they heard Hermione’s exasperated “tsk.”

Dobby rose to his feet; he took both of their hands and led them back to Ron and Hermione. Hermione stood nervously, her wand at the ready if he should try to jump onto the platform. But Dobby patted her hand.

“Do not worry any more, Miss Granger. Dobby isn’t wanting to die now. Dobby is not wanting to hurt his best friends.”

“That’s how we all feel.” Hermione smiled, but did not lower her wand.

They stood and stared at the platform and the necklaces in their jewel–like cases. They dimmed their wands; the yellow glow gave enough light for them to see without much difficulty. But gradually they became aware of other light. It was red, and at first they didn’t know where it came from. Then Ron turned around, and swore. They all looked. The entire front wall was radiating a dull red light, as though a source of heat was inside it. There was no longer a door in the wall.

“We can’t get out,” Hermione said.

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