XCVIII. LIMBO
21:79 ─❁────────── 31:80
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝We keep missing each other,
keep getting farther away❞
༻───────────────༺
THE SHOCK OF LOSING MAD-Eye hung over the house in the days that followed; Lucia expected many times for him to stump in through the back door along the Order member, who passed in and out to relay news. It didn't dawn on her until the very next day that Moody was gone.
He'll never come back. No one can come back from the dead.
She often found herself reminiscing the time she first met Moody — in actuality, and not the imposter — in that bloody trunk that she was threw in like a ragdoll, all bloodied and bruised.
Back then she didn't know who she was supposed to be, and in all honesty, she still had no idea. But she remembered just how much her heart had soared through the skies knowing that she was able to impress someone as excellent as Moody; how he implied just how stellar she was at noticing the oddness in the fake Moody even without knowing if her guts were even telling the truth...
Okay, perhaps stellar was a bit far-fetched of what happened, but she had the obligation to daydream about it since it was the first time she felt as if she'd done something... well... right?
Lucia couldn't cry. Perhaps her tears had already been wasted to the point that there were no tears left to cry. Either way, all she could do was look out the window at night and recalled the memories she had with him. She kind of missed sharing toffees with him while waiting for their demise of for someone to save them.
"Well, you can't do anything about the" — Ron mouthed the word Horcruxes — "till you're seventeen. You've still got the Trace on you. And we can plan here as well as anywhere, can't we? Or," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "d'you reckon you already know where the You-Know-Whats are?"
"No," Harry admitted.
"First You-Know-Who, now it's You-Know-What? People really should start giving him some more simple name, like maybe, Voldyhole — or Soulkeeper — just some names that sounds ridiculous," said Lucia, one hand clutching over her dressed abdomen, and another was playing with her eggs.
They were sitting at the breakfast table; Mr. Weasley and Bill had just left for work. Mrs. Weasley had gone upstairs to wake Hermione and Ginny, whilst Fleur had drifted off to take a bath.
"I can't believe you just said that with a blank face," said Ron, and Lucia shrugged. "Well, anyway, I think Hermione's been doing a bit of research," he pointed out to his bestfriends, "She said she was saving it for when you two got here."
"The Trace'll break on the thirty-first," said Harry. "That means I only need to stay here four days. Then I can —"
"Five days," Ron corrected him firmly. "We've got to stay for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it."
Lucia shook her head, "they" to mean Fleur and Mrs. Weasley.
"It's one extra day," said Ron, when Harry looked mutinous.
"Don't they realize how important — ?"
"Of course they don't. They don't got a single clue about it," said Lucia.
"And now you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about that." Ron perked up and glanced toward the door into the hall to check that Mrs. Weasley was not returning yet, then leaned in closer to Lucia and Harry.
"Mum's been trying to get it out of Hermione and me. What we're off to do. She'll try you two next, so brace yourself. Dad and Lupin've both asked as well, but when we said Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone except us, they dropped it. Not Mum, though. She's determined."
That really did sound like what Mrs. Weasley would do, Lucia thought. Ron's prediction came true within hours. Shortly before lunch, Mrs. Weasley detached Harry from the others by asking him to help her out with changing Lucia's dressing. To say the DiFiore was confused to see Harry coming in after Mrs. Weasley with some bandages and potions in arms would be an understatement.
Usually, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't need anybody's help, and Lucia had been changing her dressing for awhile now, but it didn't take her long to understand why she had brought Harry along. She was cornering them.
Lucia turned to Harry, who knew exactly what Mrs. Weasley was planning, but was also peering on her wound with his face etched with concern, especially when she yelped in pain.
"Please be careful," mumbled Lucia. "I said I can't do cartwheels until Harry's birthday..."
"You won't be doing cartwheels at all, Lucia," said Mrs. Weasley firmly.
Lucia turned to Harry, and she gave him a reassuring and beaming smile that had almost made his heart leaped out from his chest. For a flicker of second there, he'd forgotten that they were no longer together, and to outright kiss her right there would be wrong. But God, he wanted to feel her lips against his so badly.
Harry hastily busied himself with cutting the bandage for Mrs. Weasley while she was disinfecting the wound.
"Ron and Hermione seem to think that the four of you are dropping out of Hogwarts," she began in a light, casual tone.
"Oh," said Harry, looking alarmingly at Lucia, who blinked. "Well, yeah. We are."
"May I ask why you all are abandoning your education?" said Mrs. Weasley.
"Well, Dumbledore left me... stuff to do," mumbled Harry. "Lucia, Ron, and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too."
"With your wound, I don't think you would be able to," said Mrs. Weasley airily to Lucia, before turning to Harry, "What sort of 'stuff'?"
Lucia refrained herself from rebutting. She'd already predicted when her wound would be closing, but Mrs. Weasley would surely tell her that it was ridiculous for a wound as deep as hers to close so fast.
"I'm sorry, I can't —"
"Well, frankly, I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Granger would agree!" said Mrs. Weasley, using the "concerned parent" attack. Noticing Harry hesitating, she didn't blame him for doing so, for Mrs. Weasley had voluntarily decided that Harry was apart of the Weasley family, and she had taken care of him the moment Ron brought him home with him.
Lucia took the initiative to help Harry. "Dumbledore didn't want anyone else to know, Mrs. Weasley. We're sorry. Ron, Hermione, and I could always choose to not come with Harry, but we've already made up our mind —"
"I don't see that Harry has to go either!" she snapped, dropping all pretense now. Lucia winced; this was surely going to put Harry under the spot. "You're barely of age, any of you! It's utter nonsense, if Dumbledore needed work doing, he had the whole Order at his command! Harry, you must have misunderstood him. Probably he was telling you something he wanted done, and you took it to mean that he wanted you —"
"I didn't misunderstand," said Harry flatly. "It's got to be me."
Harry then exchanged the potion bottle from Mrs. Weasley's hand with his.
"And that's not the potion you should be using to heal Lucia wound," said Harry. "That's the Dreamless Sleep Potion," he noted.
"Oh, of course not," said Mrs. Weasley with a sudden and rather unnerving return to her casual tone. "I should have realized. Well, Harry, Lucia, while we've still got you all here, neither of you would mind helping with the preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding, will you? There's still so much to do."
Harry quirked a brow. Even Lucia? That seemingly did not sound like something Mrs. Weasley would approve...
"No — I — of course not," said Harry, disconcerted by this sudden change of subject.
"It'll be a pleasure to help," said Lucia beamingly, not catching on Mrs. Weasley's suspicious behaviour.
"Sweet of you two," And then she left the two to themselves, forgetting to finish up with the dressing.
Before Lucia could call out to Mrs. Weasley about it, she was already out of the door. Lucia heaved out a sigh and was about to sit back upright, but Harry quickly pushed her back down softly.
"Let me do it," said Harry.
"Do you even know how to change a dressing?" snorted Lucia, looking into his emerald eyes.
Harry paused, biting his lips. The sweet eyes of hers were enticing to him. "Nope."
She shook her head with a giggle, taking his hand in hers. "I'll show you; it'll probably be useful for when we go on the mission,"
He said nothing, merely admiring her as she showed slowly how to change some dressing. It was suffocating for Harry; he wanted to kiss her, but he could not.
After Mrs. Weasley had asked to help with the wedding, she kept Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia so busy with preparations for the wedding that they hardly had any time to think. The kindest explanation of this behavior would have been that Mrs. Weasley wanted to distract them all from thoughts of Mad-Eye and the terrors of their recent journey. After two days of nonstop cutlery cleaning, of color-matching favors, ribbons, and flowers, of fitting in the dresses for the bridesmaids and bride, of de-gnoming the garden and helping Mrs. Weasley cook vast batches of canapés, however, it was clear what her real motives were.
All the jobs she handed out seemed to keep Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia away from one another; neither of them had the chance to speak to each other alone since the first night.
"Per'aps she is just worried," said Fleur, standing still in front of the mirror, wearing her wedding dress whilst Lucia was altering some things about the dress. She was sure that with Fleur's beauty, she would make anything looks beautiful on her, but Lucia couldn't say the same for other...
"Worried would be the understatement of the century," scoffed Lucia.
"'er son and 'is friends are going somewhere, bear with it," Fleur reasoned with Lucia.
Since Lucia was the honorary tailor as they were merely days away from the wedding and Fleur had some problems with her wedding dress but couldn't go to a professional for it, she went to Lucia, seeing as the girl was the only one with the talent to do so out of the people in the whole house. Fleur had come to her in a panic while she was helping Ginny out with some flowers, and before she knew it, she was in Ginny's room, altering the dress.
"Where are you going anyway?" said Erin, entering the room with the fabric Lucia had asked for her to bring
"No comment," said Lucia. "Now help me hold this, will you?"
Erin did so, holding onto the piece while Lucia began sewing it muggle style.
"Why not use magique?" Fleur asked.
"Well, I prefer using my hands more. Give a deeper meaning, you know?" said Lucia simply.
The young women in the room shared a gaze with each other before turning to Lucia and shook their heads, "No."
After finishing with some altercation, Fleur walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where Ginny and Harry had seemed to be in a deadly staring contest, both scowling at one another.
"Woah, what's going on in here?" Erin asked, breaking the silence.
"Nothing," Harry rolled eyes at Ginny, who rolled her eyes back at him.
"He was just being an utter prat —"
But Ginny didn't finish her sentence, for Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and Bill walked in. Lucia looked between them both with her eyes narrowed on them suspiciously. What had gone on in here? Nonetheless, she didn't question them and merely tore her attention toward the new arrivals.
They were often joined by other Order members for dinner now, because the Burrow had replaced number twelve, Grimmauld Place as the headquarters. Mr. Weasley had explained that after the death of Dumbledore, their Secret-Keeper, each of the people to whom Dumbledore had confided Grimmauld Place's location had become a Secret-Keeper in turn.
"And as there are around twenty of us, that greatly dilutes the power of the Fidelius Charm. Twenty times as many opportunities for the Death Eaters to get the secret out of somebody. We can't expect it to hold much longer."
"But surely Snape will have told the Death Eaters the address by now?" asked Harry.
"Well, Mad-Eye set up a couple of curses against Snape in case he turns up there again. We hope they'll be strong enough both to keep him out and to bind his tongue if he tries to talk about the place, but we can't be sure. It would have been insane to keep using the place as headquarters now that its protection has become so shaky."
The kitchen was so crowded that evening it was difficult to maneuver knives and forks. Lucia had found herself crammed in between Harry and Ginny, who seemingly still had an evident animosity in the atmosphere between them. It was like forming a wall between two lions, and it was quite suffocating to say the least. Lucia didn't complain much as it also meant she was sitting with both of her favourite people.
However, whenever she was to talk to Harry, Ginny would make low comments under her breath to criticise him.
"Still can't believed you two ever dated," scoffed Ginny quietly, "You deserve someone better,"
This left Lucia many times confused as she cuts her chicken. Where on earth was this coming from? She thought she had made it clear that the breakup was mutual? But Lucia quickly changed the topic to Ginny's and Luna's relationship, and the redhead would always beamed brightly at the mention of her girlfriend.
"I can't go to Luna's house during these times, but we promised each other to tell what we've been doing during the wedding reception," said Ginny chirpily.
Lucia smiled softly. No offence to Ginny's former boyfriends and all, but the girl seemed way more happier with Luna than she ever did with anybody else. But Lucia's smile soon faded when she heard Harry asked about Mad-Eye.
"No news about Mad-Eye?" Harry asked Bill suddenly, getting flustered occasionally when his arms brushed against Lucia.
"Nothing," replied Bill.
They hadn't been able to hold a funeral for Moody, because Bill and Lupin had failed to recover his body. It had been difficult to know where he might have fallen, given the darkness and the confusion of the battle.
"The Daily Prophet hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body," Bill went on. "But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."
"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry called across the table to Mr. Weasley, who shook his head.
"Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?"
"The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."
"Yeah, why tell the public the truth?" said Harry, clenching his knife so tightly that Lucia could see the faint scars on the back of his right hand stood out, white against his skin: I must not tell lies.
"He probably thinks that what he is doing is a good thing, but he'll only end up hurting more people," said Lucia bitterly. "He's becoming Fudge 2.0,"
"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" asked Ron angrily.
"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," Mr. Weasley replied, "terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumors going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he's working on a plan."
There was a pause in which Mrs. Weasley magicked the empty plates onto the work surface and served apple tart.
"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur once everyone had pudding. "For ze wedding," she added, when he looked confused. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."
Lucia gathered that Fleur still had her suspicions on Hagrid, which she wished that Fleur would drop it. But Fleur was a vigilant individual, so that would be far-fetched for now...
"Yes, good point," said Mrs. Weasley from the top of the table, where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. "Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"
"Why?" exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"
"We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man —"
"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. Hermione and Lucia shared amuse gazes with one another, refraining a laugh. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left —"
"Don't talk to your mother like that," said Mr. Weasley firmly. "And do as you're told."
Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.
"I can help, some of it's my mess," Harry told Ron, but Mrs. Weasley cut across him.
"No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning."
When Harry went to muck out the chicken with Mr. Weasley, Lucia took the opportunity to see Ron.
She leant against his doorway, amuse.
"Need help?"
"How in Merlin's saggy left tits did you get away from Mum?" gaped Ron at her presence.
She smiled mischievously at him, picking up one of Harry's shirts from the floor and draping it over her forearm, "Don't underestimate the power of natural invisibility," hummed Lucia.
"Well, I guess you could help me out," said Ron.
"Why don't you just use magic?" stated Lucia, beginning to fold their clothes as she sat with her legs crossed on Harry's makeshift bed. "Surely that would be easier."
"Mum would most likely throw a fit," said Ron, before he glances at her cautiously. "Are we sure you two aren't still together?"
Lucia halted her folding. "We're not together," she stated.
"I dunno... From what I'm seeing, I reckon you two are lying," Ron threw his blanket lazily over his bed.
Before Lucia could say anything, the door creaked open, and Hermione quickly slipped in with Crookshanks in her arms. "I really wished that Bao Bao was here to accompany Crookshanks. He's getting bored with everything and kept scratching the flowers..."
"Bao Bao's with Astoria, safe," said Lucia blankly. "It's for the better. He won't get hurt."
Hermione didn't look convinced. "You missed him, Lucia,"
"I am, I know that Hermione," she said. "But I'm not going to barge into Greengrass Manor and snatch him away from Astoria when I know that Astoria would surely keep him safe until all of this is over."
Hermione stared at Lucia pitifully.
"Stop with that, M'fine," said Lucia sharply.
"W-What were two talking about before I came in?" Hermione asked, tearing her eyes away from Lucia.
"About her and Harry,"
She clapped her hands together. "Oh, I've been thinking about that as well. Are you two —"
"No," said Lucia at once, exasperated. "We're not together still,"
"You really could've just accepted that he was taking back the whole break up thing," said Ron bluntly.
"Yeah, I thought about that, but the last thing Harry needs is a relationship in his mind right now," said Lucia, not breaking her gaze on Harry's Quidditch jumper. She remembered so vividly when she worn it, reminded her of his scent that she so loved. "I dunno... I guess I just don't want him to feel like not only does he have to carry the weight of our world in his shoulders, but also our relationship. He doesn't need to think that perhaps he's doing things wrong. He needs to focus on the task at hand,"
Hermione and Ron looked stared at her back sadly. They knew that both Lucia and Harry wanted nothing more than to be back in each other's arms again, but they were trying their best to refrain themselves from doing so, and it was excruciating to watch it happen. Nothing changed in their friendliness wise, but there was definitely a strong tension between them both.
Neither spoke about relationships, changing the topic to Mad-Eye for the remainder of the time as they — well, Lucia and Hermione anyway, concentrated more on cleaning the room: Ron was laying down on his bed; Hermione was now sitting in the far corner, her fluffy ginger cat, Crookshanks, at her feet, sorting books; and Lucia was finished with organising Ron's clothes and was about to finish up on Harry's when the door creaked open once again.
"I'm doing it, I'm doing — ! Oh, it's you," said Ron, as the trio in the room were expecting Mrs. Weasley, but instead they were greeted by Harry.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione said, as he sat down on his bed, in which Lucia was sitting on also, continuing with folding his clothes.
"Had a nice day with the chickens?" joked Lucia.
"Ha ha," Harry said sarcastically. "How did you two managed to get away?"
"Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday," said Hermione. She threw Numerology and Grammatica onto one pile and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts onto the other.
"And I slipped away due to my sheer ability to make myself invisible," said Lucia simply.
"You said that your stomach was hurting and you had to go to the loo, didn't you?" mused Harry.
"Yes, I did," Lucia said unblushingly. "I find it very hard these days to use my ability to make myself invisible."
"Because you're not invisible anymore," stated Hermione as a matter-of-factly.
Lucia clicked her tongue. "As if,"
"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," Ron told Harry. "I reckon he might have survived."
"But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse," said Harry.
"Yeah, but Bill was under attack too," said Ron. "How can he be sure what he saw?"
"Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad-Eye still fell about a thousand feet," said Hermione, now weighing Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland in her hand.
"Geez you both are pretty pessimistic," said Lucia, playing with a bundle of sock in her hand. "Let Ron be optimistic,"
"Thank you," said Ron, "And he could have used a Shield Charm —"
"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand," said Harry.
"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," said Ron grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.
"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" said Hermione, looking shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"
"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him," said Ron wisely.
"Just like Barty Crouch?" said Lucia dolefully.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Just like Barty Crouch. Turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him —"
"Don't!" squealed Hermione. Startled, Lucia, Harry, and Ron looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.
"Oh, Hermione," said Lucia, pushing herself up from the bed.
"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up too, "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset —"
But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handkerchief that he had used to clean out the oven earlier. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, "Tergeo."
Lucia and Harry quirked a brow at this, but Ron didn't pay much attention to them as the wand siphoned off most of the grease. Looking rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handkerchief to Hermione.
"Oh... thanks, Ron. I'm sorry..." She blew her nose and hiccuped. "It's just so awf-ful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore... I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!"
"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving her a squeeze. "But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?"
"'C-constant vigilance,'" said Hermione, mopping her eyes.
"That's right," said Ron, nodding. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus."
Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forward to pick up two more books. A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped The Monster Book of Monsters on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at Ron's ankle.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and retied it shut and handed it to Lucia, who stroke the book to calm it down from its feral way.
"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked, limping back to his bed after casting Lucia a glare, but she merely continued to laugh.
"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
"Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. "I wonder... will we need to translate runes? It's possible... I think we'd better take it, to be safe."
She dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts: A History.
"Probably bring along the monster book too?"
"For what?' Ron scoffed. "That bloody thing almost bite my ankle off!"
"And that's why you should bring it!" said Lucia. "It'll be good for offence and defence — !"
"Listen," said Harry.
They snapped their heads to Harry as she sat up straight. Lucia, Hermione, and Ron looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance
"I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me," Harry began.
"Here he goes," Ron said to the girls, rolling his eyes.
"As we knew he would," she sighed, turning back to the books. "You know, I think I will take Hogwarts: A History. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with —"
"Listen!" said Harry again.
"How about you listen here, Harry!" said Lucia, throwing the dirty laundry into the hamper roughly. "We're... they're coming with you. That decision was decided months ago!"
"— years, really." Hermione added.
"But —"
"Shut up," Ron advised him.
"— are you sure you've thought this through?" Harry persisted.
"Let's see," said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. "I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose. I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me — or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry, who shrunk under her gaze. Lucia and Ron remained silent, not adding anything, for they knew how emotional it was for Hermione to say it.
"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't — well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see."
Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact. Lucia shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair, huffing in sadness. Harry couldn't think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact.
"I — Hermione, I'm sorry — I didn't —"
"Didn't realize that Ron, Lucia, and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do and Ron, show Harry what you've done."
"Nah, he's just eaten," said Ron.
"Go on, he needs to know!"
"I wanna see too!" said Lucia, having heard of this already, but haven't yet to see it.
"Oh, all right. Come here."
For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door. Lucia giddily made her way to the door as well after retracting her hand from Harry's.
"C'mon." Ron beckoned.
"Why?" Harry asked, dragged out of the Room by Lucia as they followed Ron onto the tiny landing.
"Descendo," muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened right over their heads and a ladder slid down to their feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came out of the square hole, along with an unpleasant smell like open drains.
"That's your ghoul, isn't it?" asked Harry, who had never actually met the creature that sometimes disrupted the nightly silence.
"Yeah, it is," said Ron, climbing the ladder. "Come and have a look at him."
Lucia and Harry followed Ron up the few short steps into the tiny attic space. She went up after Ron and immediately caught sight of the creature curled up a few feet from the three of them, fast asleep in the gloom with its large mouth wide open.
"Cool!" gasped Lucia, moving forward but was held back by Harry, who had quickly took her hand as an initiative.
"But it... it looks... do ghouls normally wear pajamas?" he asked.
"No," said Ron. "Nor have they usually got red hair or that number of pustules."
She was slightly revolted but was also amazed by the sight of the ghoul. She'd never seen them in her life before. It was human in shape and size, and was wearing what, now that Lucia's eyes became used to the darkness, was clearly an old pair of Ron's pajamas. She was also sure that ghouls were generally rather slimy and bald, rather than distinctly hairy and covered in angry purple blisters.
"He's me, see?" said Ron.
"Uncanny," said Lucia with a grin.
"No," said Harry. "I don't."
"I'll explain it back in my room, the smell's getting to me," said Ron. They climbed back down the ladder, which Ron returned to the ceiling, and rejoined Hermione, who was still sorting books.
"Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room," said Ron. "I think he's really looking forward to it — well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool — but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"
Harry merely looked his confusion.
"It is!" said Ron, clearly frustrated that Harry had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. "Look, when we four don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Lucia, Hermione, and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."
"But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the moment," said Hermione.
"And it isn't as though people in the Wizarding world knows I had a muggle family once," said Lucia simply, "My mum is in a safe place, and it isn't like they would question her. They're quite aware of her state right now. It'll be useless,"
"We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy, and they can't all leave their jobs," said Ron. "So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."
"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" asked Harry.
"Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum... well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we've gone."
There was silence in the room, broken only by gentle thuds as Hermione continued to throw books onto one pile or the other while Lucia muttered and helped Hermione out. Ron sat watching them, Hermione specifically, and Harry looked from one to the other, unable to say anything. The measures they had taken to protect their families made him realize, more than anything else could have done, that they really were going to come with him and that they knew exactly how dangerous that would be. He wanted to tell them what that meant to him, but he simply could not find words important enough.
Through the silence came the muffled sounds of Mrs. Weasley shouting from four floors below.
"Ginny's probably left a speck of dust on a poxy napkin ring," said Ron. "I dunno why the Delacours have got to come two days before the wedding."
"It's because Gabrielle, Fleur's sister, is a bridesmaid," said Lucia putting a Advanced Potion Making book onto the pile. "She needs to be here for the rehearsal, and she's too young to come on her own,"
"Well, guests aren't going to help Mum's stress levels," said Ron.
"What we really need to decide," said Hermione, tossing Defensive Magical Theory into the bin without a second glance and picking up An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, "is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but... well... shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?"
"If we knew where any of the Horcruxes were, I'd agree with you," said Harry, who did not believe that Hermione really understood his desire to return to Godric's Hollow. His parents' graves were only part of the attraction: He had a strong, though inexplicable, feeling that the place held answers for him. Perhaps it was simply because it was there that he had survived Voldemort's Killing Curse; now that he was facing the challenge of repeating the feat, Harry was drawn to the place where it had happened, wanting to understand.
"We understand that you want to go there, love, but we can visit like, maybe, in the middle of the hunt?" said Lucia softly "There's a big possibility that Voldemort will be keeping watch on Godric's Hollow,"
"He might expect you to go back and visit your parents' graves once you're free to go wherever you like," nodded Hermione.
Apparently, this hadn't occurred to Harry. While he struggled to find a counterargument, Ron spoke up, evidently following his own train of thought.
"This R.A.B. person," he said. "You know, the one who stole the real locket?"
Hermione nodded.
"He said in his note he was going to destroy it, didn't he?"
Harry dragged his rucksack toward him and pulled out the fake Horcrux in which R.A.B.'s note was still folded.
"'I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can,'" Harry read out.
"Well, what if he did finish it off?" said Ron.
"Or she," interposed Hermione.
"Or maybe them," interjected Lucia.
"Whichever," said Ron, "it'd be one less for us to do!"
"Yes, but we're still going to have to try and trace the real locket, aren't we?" said Hermione, "to find out whether or not it's destroyed."
"And once we get hold of it, how do you destroy a Horcrux?" asked Ron.
"We've been researching about that actually," said Lucia. "Well, Hermione did anyway."
"How?" asked Harry. "I didn't think there were any books on Horcruxes in the library?"
"There weren't," said Hermione, who had turned pink. "Dumbledore removed them all, but he — he didn't destroy them."
Ron sat up straight, wide-eyed.
"How in the name of Merlin's pants have you managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?"
"It — it wasn't stealing!" said Hermione, looking from Harry to Ron with a kind of desperation. "They were still library books, even if Dumbledore had taken them off the shelves. Anyway, if he really didn't want anyone to get at them, I'm sure he would have made it much harder to —"
"Get to the point, sweetheart," said Lucia.
"Well... it was easy," said Hermione in a small voice. "I just did a Summoning Charm. You know — Accio. And — they zoomed out of Dumbledore's study window right into the girls' dormitory."
"The security to the strongest wizard alive's office is really poor, huh," said Lucia weakly. "Anyone can break in at this rate..."
"But when did you do this?" Harry asked, regarding Hermione with a mixture of admiration and incredulity.
"Just after his — Dumbledore's — funeral," said Hermione in an even smaller voice. "Right after we agreed we'd leave school and go and look for the Horcruxes. When I went back upstairs to get my things it — it just occurred to me that the more we knew about them, the better it would be... and I was alone in there... so I tried... and it worked. They flew straight in through the open window and I — I packed them."
She swallowed and then said imploringly, "I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?"
"No, no he wouldn't be angry at all," said Lucia. "He'll probably be astounded in his own way," she added, trying to make Hermione feel the small guiltiness in her heart.
"Can you hear us complaining?" said Ron. "Where are these books anyway?"
Hermione rummaged for a moment and then extracted from the pile a large volume, bound in faded black leather. She looked a little nauseated and held it as gingerly as if it were something recently dead.
"This is the one that gives explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux. Secrets of the Darkest Art — it's a horrible book, really awful, full of evil magic. I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library... If he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here."
"And where exactly did the handsome, teenage Tom Riddle find the book exactly? Even the darkest of wizards wanted nothing to do with a Horcrux, where would he have found the book?"
"Probably part of his gang of dark wizards back when he was at school," said Harry, still trying to recover of the fact that Lucia had called Riddle handsome. He was, but now all Harry could think of was Voldemort's face. He grimaced in disgust. "All of them were purebloods, weren't they? Probably had some book tuck in their manor's library."
"Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux, then, if he'd already read that?" asked Ron.
"He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven," said Harry. "Dumbledore was sure Riddle already knew how to make a Horcrux by the time he asked Slughorn about them. I think you're right, Hermione, that could easily have been where he got the information."
"And the more I've read about them," said Hermione, "the more horrible they seem, and the less I can believe that he actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!"
"Trying to escape death... he's bold bold," mumbled Lucia.
"Coward more like," glared Harry.
"Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asked
"Yes," said Hermione with a hollow smile, "but it would be excruciatingly painful."
"Why? How do you do it?" asked Harry.
"Remorse," said Hermione. "You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"
"No," said Ron, before either Lucia or Harry could say it. "So does it say how to destroy Horcruxes in that book?"
"Yes," said Hermione, now turning the fragile pages as if examining rotting entrails, "because it warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, what Harry did to Riddle's diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux."
"What, stabbing it with a basilisk fang?" asked Harry.
"Oh well, lucky we've got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then," said Ron. "I was wondering what we were going to do with them."
"It doesn't have to be a basilisk fang," said Hermione patiently. "It has to be something so destructive that the Horcrux can't repair itself. Basilisk venom only has one antidote, and it's incredibly rare —"
"— phoenix tears," said Harry, nodding.
"Exactly," said Hermione. "Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as basilisk venom, and they're all dangerous to carry around with you. That's a problem we're going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won't do the trick. You've got to put it beyond magical repair."
"But even if we wreck the thing it lives in," said Ron, "why can't the bit of soul in it just go and live in something else?"
"Because a Horcrux is the complete opposite of a human being."
However, Harry and Ron looked thoroughly confused. Lucia, who finally gets the idea, decided to explain it to them. "I-I think I understand... Okay, imagine if Pig picks up a sword right now, and ran it through you with it for revenge, would it damage your soul?" Harry and Ron merely furrowed their eyes, still not understanding. Lucia sighed, "No! It wouldn't damage your soul!"
"Which would be a real comfort to me, I'm sure," said Ron. Harry laughed.
"It should be, actually! But Lucia's point is that whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched," said Hermione. "But it's the other way round with a Horcrux. The fragment of soul inside it depends on its container, its enchanted body, for survival. It can't exist without it."
"That diary sort of died when I stabbed it," said Harry, remembering ink pouring like blood from the punctured pages, and the screams of the piece of Voldemort's soul as it vanished.
"And once the diary was properly destroyed, the bit of soul trapped in it could no longer exist," stated Hermione.
"Hang on," said Ron, frowning. "The bit of soul in that diary was possessing Ginny, wasn't it? How does that work, then?"
"While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don't mean holding it for too long, it's nothing to do with touching it," she added before Ron could speak. "I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You're in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux."
"I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?" said Harry. "Why didn't I ask him? I never really..."
His voice tailed away: He was thinking of all the things he should have asked Dumbledore, and of how, since the headmaster had died, it seemed to Harry that he had wasted so many opportunities when Dumbledore had been alive, to find out more... to find out everything...
The silence was shattered as the bedroom door flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped Secrets of the Darkest Art; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; Lucia covered her face with one of Harry's sweatshirt, looking as though she was preparing for something to be thrown at her; and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.
"I'm so sorry to break up this cozy little gathering," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sure you all need your rest... but there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."
"Oh yes," said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction, "we will... we're sorry..."
"Really, sorry," Lucia laughed nervously and scrambled up with a brief wince before she ran past Mrs. Weasley to Harry.
As much as Lucia loved the idea of cleaning, this was too much for her to handle. When she saw the enormous pile of wedding presents waiting for them in Mrs. Weasley's room, Lucia let out a cry.
"Why me, God? Why?!"