Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 24

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Harry set the cup and the locket down on the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place.

"It's time," he said resolutely. "They've got to go."

They'd stayed at Hogwarts for two full days after Harry had managed to return to his own form. Madam Pomfrey had smuggled him up to a well guarded Hospital Wing and poked and prodded every inch of him, pronouncing him both healing and oddly... changed.

"I've known him since he was eleven, seen more of him than I ought to, and I tell you there is something different now. His magic appears altered."

"We can't keep him from leaving simply because something is different," Professor McGonagall had said anxiously. "Surely, Poppy, there must be..." her voice had trailed off and her eyes shifted to the portrait of Dumbledore.

"It is Voldemort's soul within him. He has at least another piece now, and two more to cope with. Remember how he changed his third year after the incident in the chamber. He was darker, moody, quick to anger..."

"He was thirteen," Madam Pomfrey had snorted. "They were all like that."

The corners of Professor McGonagall's lips had curled then.

"If you let him go," Dumbledore warned them, "being Harry, he will immediately attempt to eliminate the two remaining horcruxes. There are only two options open to him. Release them and allow them to join the portions of the soul already within him that are called by the horcrux in his scar, or destroy them. Harry has not had nearly enough time or training to manage the last without catastrophic results. He will attempt the first, to his great peril and quite possibly ours, Minerva. I myself would have done almost anything to restrain him."

'Fat lot of good that advice had ever done,' thought Hermione, who had been there for the former conversation. Dumbledore had pegged Harry exactly. On the other hand, however, it was certainly easy enough to see Harry's point as well, and McGonagall, not being Dumbledore, was ultimately swayed and allowed them to leave.

No one at Hogwarts other than Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Luna Lovegood or Hagrid had the slightest clue Harry lived on. The mood of the students varied widely; the Gryffindors were for the most part deeply shocked and reinvigorated in their opposition to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Ravenclaws worried about the future and how to weigh the odds ahead of them, the Hufflepuffs were simply terrified that now all might be lost. The Slytherins still left at the school tended to be either moderates or spies; none showed any visible grief - or surprise - at Harry's demise.

Ron had spent an inordinate amount of time taking his leave of Luna, extracting a promise that she would come and visit them at Grimmauld Place during her Christmas holidays. Harry found himself wondering if there would even be Christmas holidays this year, or if he would be alive to see them. Hagrid and Hermione had been scrupulously careful to make sure he hadn't had so much as a glimpse of the Daily Prophet; he was sure Voldemort was reveling in his new Harry-free playground and he could not help but brood. It ate at him, constantly.

They had returned to Grimmauld place only hours before: Hermione realized Dumbledore had not been far off in his assessment of the situation. Harry had taken time for only one thing; he'd disappeared to Sirius's old room for something while Hermione and Ron made a makeshift meal. She found herself now doubly curious what that had been.