Their first night in the tent went smoothly. They stayed up late into the night talking about where they expected to find the next Horcrux, but as Hermione pointed out, they didn’t have much to go on.
“Do you think that the locket was actually destroyed by R.A.B.?” Hermione asked as they packed up the tent.
Harry pulled hard on a stake, yanking it out with a large clump of dirt. “Dunno … but we can’t take the chance that he didn’t.” He busied himself with packing away the poles in a bag. The previous day had been emotionally draining for him, and his entire body ached.
“So we’re going to Grimmauld Place still?” Ron asked as he put the last fold into the tent and packed it into its bag.
“We have to,” Hermione said as she stood and brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. “I want to look through the library there.”
Ron shook his head and shouldered his backpack and the tent bag. “Mental… Hermione, those books are dangerous! Remember the trouble we had cleaning things up?”
“Yes, but we don’t have much to go on right now,” she reminded him. “We can’t ignore the house-” she glanced briefly at Harry before turning back to Ron, “-no matter how much we might want to.”
Harry’s stomach clenched tightly. He’d avoided his godfather’s house for an entire year. He knew that it was being cared for by Remus and Mrs. Weasley, but it was mostly abandoned now … now that Dumbledore was dead.
He jumped as a hand gently touched his arm. He looked down into Hermione’s concerned face. “Are you ready?”
Harry nodded and took a deep breath. There wasn’t anything in the house to be nervous over. “Let’s go, then.”
“Right.” Ron looked over at Hermione. “So we are going to Apparate to Diagon Alley?”
“Yes. I spoke with your brothers, and they are expecting us today.” She adjusted her backpack and checked the ground around her feet for anything they might have forgotten. “Then we will Floo from their place over to the house.”
“Let’s go then,” Harry said sharply before wincing. He didn’t want to take out his anxiety on his best friends.
They Apparated to Fred and George’s flat above the shop and found George waiting for them. His expression was grave but relieved when he saw them. “Mum’s going spare,” he informed them. “We still haven’t found any sign of Ginny.”
“Blimey … where could she have gone?” Ron asked as they all tromped down the stairs and into the shop.
“We’ll never find her,” Hermione said unhappily as she glared at George. “She’s too cunning.”
George looked affronted. “What did I do?”
“Taught her to escape,” she accused. “She’s told me the stories.”
George blushed but looked slightly pleased. “Yeah, well-”
“George, we need-” Fred halted mid-sentence at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “So you’re safe, then? Mum’s having kittens over Ginny skiving off, you know.”
“George told us. We’re not thrilled with her either,” Ron told him shortly. “Anyway, we’re off to Grimmauld Place for a few days, but don’t tell Mum unless you have to.”
The twins gazed at them shrewdly before George spoke up. “We haven’t asked what you’re up to-”
“Mostly because it’s none of our ruddy business,” Fred interjected.
“-but…” George looked over at Fred who shook his head. His expression changed as he turned back to them. “Right, well don’t end up dead.”
A chill went through Harry as they turned and left the flat. He looked over at Hermione who was gravely pale. “You want to quit?” he asked more harshly than he’d intended.
“No,” she answered instantly before glaring at him. “And don’t snap at me. I’m not the enemy, you know.”
Harry ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flush. “Sorry,” he muttered as Ron grabbed the pot of floo powder off of the mantel.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, holding out the large clay pot.
Harry took one last look around the posh room before taking a pinch and throwing it into the lit fire, “Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.”
~*~
“Look at this,” Hermione said excitedly as she crawled over to Harry and Ron, leaving a trail through the dust. She shoved a hand mirror under the desk that they were currently under and scooted under after the mirror, sneezing twice before she could right herself. “Does this look familiar?”
Harry held up his wand, thinking silently, ‘Lumos’, and the light shone down on the mirror. It looked exactly like the one that Sirius had given him. “I…” but he didn’t know what to say.
“Do you still have the pieces to the other one?” Hermione asked excitedly and then jumped as another book hit the top of the table.
“Oy!” Ron yelled, as he bent further, poking his head out and then swearing violently as another book hit him in the face. “Ruddy books!” he growled as he ducked back underneath the table. “I can’t believe we’re stuck under here,” he muttered as he rubbed the raised spot on his forehead.
“I told you not to throw that book!” Hermione reminded him primly as she straightened her shirt and rubbed at her cheek, leaving a streak of grime in its wake.
“It bit me!” Ron grumbled yet again as several books hit the table at once. “How do we get them to quit throwing themselves?”
Harry looked around Ron to see that the room was still swirling in chaos. He straightened, hit his head, on the low table, and swore.
“Your language is becoming appalling,” Hermione said, glaring at each of them in turn. “We will get out of this, but swearing won’t make that happen any faster.”
“You can sit up straight under here!” Ron said argumentatively; his large frame was nearly folded in half under the table.
“Hello? AH!”
The three of them spun around, on their bottoms, to see several books attacking whomever was standing in the doorway. His wand was out in a flash, waving it as he said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” Instantly all of the books froze and fell lifelessly to the ground.
“Now why didn’t we think of that?” Ron asked as he twisted his head around to look at Harry.
He shrugged and crawled out from under the table to greet Remus. “We’re glad you showed up!”
Remus chuckled softly and clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder as the other two joined them. Harry barely noticed Hermione casting cleaning charms on their clothes, while he studied his old professor. “So… how did you trip the alarms?” Remus asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“It was Ron,” Hermione explained. “We came up to Sirius’ room to see if we could find any useful books, but one of them bit him and he dropped it.”
Harry hid his smirk. Hermione had just covered for him although she probably needn’t have bothered with the older man. “Ah yes, that would do it. Sirius wanted to make sure that Snape couldn’t poke around in here. So where did you find that mirror?”
“It was in the desk over there,” Hermione explained, pointing over to the corner. “I was searching through it to see if I could find anything, since it has the sofa next to it and I could take shelter from the books there. Do you know how we can fix the one that Harry has?”
“Fix it?” Remus looked questioningly at Harry who reddened faintly.
“Yeah, I broke it after Sirius … uh, after he died. I was angry at-” but he didn’t have to finish his sentence.
Remus’ hand had tightened on his shoulder, “I understand and yes I can fix it. I helped them make them.”
“Didn’t you want one?” Ron asked as they walked out of Sirius’ room to go down to get Harry’s trunk.
He shook his graying head. “No, of course not. I wasn’t in detention enough to make it worth the effort.” He stopped and looked at them thoughtfully. “We could have made one for Peter, though, but I can’t remember why we didn’t.”
~*~
“How did it go yesterday?” Remus asked Harry after Ron and Hermione had turned in for the evening, leaving them in the kitchen. Harry thought that Hermione might have pulled Ron out because she knew he wanted to talk to Remus alone.
Harry swallowed hard before answering. “It went all right. I found everything just as you’d described it.” He closed his eyes and the house, or what was left of it, flashed through his mind. “I knew that it would be a mess but I-” what exactly?
“You weren’t prepared for it?” Remus supplied softly.
He nodded and ran a distracted hand through his hair. “I went to their graves too.” He looked up to see Remus’ lined face and knew that he didn’t have to say any more. His parent’s old friend understood.
Clearing his throat, Remus asked, “Do you know where Ginny is?”
“No,” Harry blurted out in surprise. “I was going to ask you since Tonks knows what she’s doing.”
“Ah,” Remus’ face softened as a smile spread across his face. “I am afraid that Nymphadora has told me to ‘butt out’ of it.” He studied Harry for a long minute until Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “Why did you break up with Ginny?”
He blinked in surprise, unable to answer for a moment. “I… well it was just that we… uh…”
“I see,” Remus said softly. “You broke up with her for the same reasons that I refused to date Nymphadora.”
“Er… no,” Harry replied, trying to think of what to say. “We just needed a break.”
“So you don’t mind if she dates someone else?”
Harry’s vision clouded as a violent fog of anger and jealousy swamped through him. He gripped the edge of the table and glared hard at the scratched, wooden surface, trying to push back the rage that filled him. “She’s… free to do as she likes.” He didn’t mean it but he had been the one to break up with her.
“Liar,” Remus said mildly, with no hint of feeling attached to the word. “That’s probably why Nymphadora proposed to me yesterday.”
Harry’s internal monologue, which had been running through the ways to maim any other man who dared to touch Ginny, halted in its tracks. “Excuse me? You were proposed to?”
Remus grinned at him happily. “Her grandmother gave Nymphadora an old family heirloom, an engagement ring that had been handed down through the generations. She put it in my hand last night as she got down on one knee and asked me to marry her.”
Harry was having trouble picturing it, not Tonks proposing, just Sirius’ mother giving her anything. “So… Sirius’ mum gave Tonks the ring?”
“No!” Remus said in surprise and then laughed. “It was her father’s mother.”
“Oh…” Harry finally smiled. “Well, congratulations then.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Remus responded smoothly. “And you shouldn’t worry about Ginny. When the time is right, she will propose to you, too.”
His heart clenched painfully as he blushed, although he couldn’t say why. “I’m not… we’re just… I’m only seventeen!”
“Your parents were eighteen when they got married and you were born shortly after your dad turned twenty.” Remus leaned backwards in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Are you telling me that you haven’t thought about it at all? I’ve seen the way you look at her, Harry. You’re in love with Ginny.”
Harry stood abruptly and started to pace the kitchen. Everywhere he looked, from the indent in the table where Sirius’ hand was nearly stabbed, to the large dresser in the corner, everything reminded him of his godfather. He hated this house, and he hated being here, but they needed a place to stay while they went to look through the orphanage that Riddle had lived in. He stopped before the empty grate of the fireplace. “I haven’t thought about it,” he admitted honestly. He hadn’t thought about anything that had to do with the future if it didn’t involve killing Voldemort.
“But you don’t deny that you’re in love with her?”
“I don’t know!” Harry bit out angrily, his heart racing as a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his brow. “I don’t know what… I don’t know.” He glared at Remus, wishing suddenly to change the subject before his stomach got its wish and threw up his dinner.
Remus went on before he could think of something else to say. “Your dad was so nervous when he proposed but he surprised us all when it came to the wedding. He was calm and collected. He knew that it was meant to be.”
Suddenly interested in hearing more, Harry went back to his seat and sat down, watching his old professor. “Why did they marry if Voldemort was killing everyone?”
Remus shook his head, sadly. “You’re missing the point, Harry. That is why they married so early. They wanted a chance to be together because everything was too dangerous.”
“Yeah, but why would they have a baby if they were-” Harry stopped short at the look on his face. Remus looked almost guilty. “Did… did they not plan to have me?”
He considered Harry for a long time, what felt like an hour to him, but was only a few minutes before he responded. “You were a… surprise, but not an unwanted one.”
“Great, just great!” Harry was on his feet again and ready to throw something. “I wasn’t even part of their plan and because of that, they ended up dead. Bloody brilliant!” Finally unable to take it any longer, he picked up his half empty glass of pumpkin juice and hurled it into the rough-hewn wall. The resulting smash was not nearly enough to assuage his anger.
“Sit down, Harry.” Remus’ voice was firm and quiet. Despite himself, Harry sat, glaring at the other man. “When your dad came to tell me that Lily was pregnant, he was terrified. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but by the time you were born, he was ecstatic.” He leaned forward, forcing Harry to meet his eyes, which were glistening with unnamed emotions. “Your dad wanted you and died willingly for you. He loved you more than anything else in this world. Your mother was the same.”
Harry shook his head slowly, trying not to let go of the myriad of emotions that were swelling through him. “But he didn’t want me at first?”
“No!” Remus interjected instantly. “He was just… unsure of what to do. Lily told him, and she was crying. She thought James might be angry with her. James, showing more maturity than I thought possible, told her that it was wonderful and held her until she fell asleep. After that he tracked Sirius down, who found me, and I flooed Peter.”
Hooked on the story, Harry asked, “What happened next?”
“I proposed a toast while James asked us how he was going to be a father,” Remus answered, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Then he had several more drinks while Sirius teased him about having to change nappies.”
A small smile finally flitted across Harry’s face. “Did he ever change my nappy?”
“Oh yes, of course he did. Your mum wouldn’t have it any other way, but I don’t think he minded.” Remus took a sip of his tea, before setting the cup down carefully. “Your dad loved holding you, we all did. You were a lot of fun as a baby.”
It was weird to think of this man having held him as a baby. Harry realized belatedly that there was a lot about his childhood that he didn’t know. “I can’t picture that,” he admitted.
“I understand, Harry. It would be easier to imagine if we had been in your life while you grew up. I wanted to be,” he said and Harry could hear the regret in his voice, “but your aunt wouldn’t allow it. She wanted nothing to do with our world.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want anything to do with her, so it doesn’t matter.” Harry dug his ragged fingernail into a groove in the table.
“They would have liked Ginny,” Remus told him suddenly. “Your dad would have liked her fire and your mum would have liked the fact that she won’t put up with any nonsense.”
Harry’s head flew up and glared at the innocent expression that Remus wore. “Ginny and I are broken up.”
“Of course you are,” he agreed easily as he looked down at his own fingernails. “So why did you really break up with her?”
“I have things to do,” Harry told him, feeling suddenly defiant. “Everyone who is close to me is in danger, what with Voldemort wanting to kill me. I wasn’t going to have her life put at risk.”
The older man grinned knowingly. “Then I’m so glad that she stayed safely at home and out of danger.”
“But she ran-” Harry stopped short and groaned. He hadn’t wanted to listen to Ron or Hermione but they knew what he’d stubbornly refused to see. Ginny wasn’t going to sit around, waiting for him to come back. That just wasn’t her. “Bloody hell, I am a git.” He buried his face in his hands, his heart racing. Ginny was probably in danger at this very moment, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it… or was there? “Remus, I overheard Ginny and Tonks talking about-”
“Stop!” Remus commanded, suddenly grave. “Whatever it is, don’t tell me.”
Astonished, Harry sat back and gawked at him. “Why not?”
“Harry… the Order might, and I emphasize the word might, have a… traitor.” The lines on his face seemed to deepen with every word until the happy man who had sat before him minutes earlier was replaced by a careworn man, too old before his time. Harry tried to comprehend what he was telling him but images of the small, fat man from the graveyard kept infiltrating his mind. “Whatever you know about Ginny, keep it to yourself. We don’t know what she is up to, but we don’t want to compromise her safety.”
“She can’t be… I mean, she’s just…” but in his heart, which was aching stubbornly, knew that Ginny had probably put herself in danger.
“You never know when you might be overheard. Guard your tongue and your thoughts,” Remus said quietly, but his intent was clear. He needed to practice Occlumency or it wouldn’t matter that he’d broken up with her.
That night he went to sleep, obstinately clearing his mind even though he knew that Voldemort wouldn’t be invading his dreams. Still, he had to start somewhere.