Chapter 30: All The Stars
The Burrow, July 31st 1997
I wake up with a startle as something hits my face and I almost drop off from my camp bed. "W-Wha…?" I mumble, blinking furiously as I try to shove the pillow – that is definitely not mine – away from my face.
Ron's in his bed, giving me an innocent look.
"What was that for?" I grumble and throw the pillow back to him.
Ron shrugs, catching the pillow. "You were muttering in your sleep," he says, stretching in his bed. "Who's Gregorovitch?" He asks, turning to look at me curiously.
"Who?"
"Gregorovitch. You were repeating the name," Ron says and lifts his brows a bit.
I yawn and try to remember the dream. There was a man…I was searching for someone. It must've been this Gregorovitch. "Dunno," I say and close my eyes for a bit, leaning against my pillow. "What time is it?" I ask and stifle another yawn.
"Almost nine. Mum's probably gonna come soon to check up on us. I bet there's a pile of new chores for us accomplish before the wedding," Ron mutters dryly and yawns loudly.
I hum in agreement. The past week has gone quickly while making everything ready for the wedding. It became clear, a couple of days in, that Mrs. Weasley has been keeping Ron, Hermione and me busy with household tasks, after she learned that the three of us are not going back to Hogwarts, and are going to continue with the work Dumbledore assigned to me. Ginny told me the other day that her mother thinks that she can somehow delay us from leaving if we have no time to plan.
There hasn't really been much time for anything else than the nonstop cutlery cleaning, de-gnoming the garden and helping Mrs. Weasley cook different kinds of foods for the wedding, excepting the two times my friends and I have managed to sneak into Ron's room to discuss my plans. Well, our plans now.
"Why are we sorting books when we are having a much-needed break from wedding chores?" Ron asks with a hint of irritation as Hermione hands him another book to put on one of the piles.
Hermione arches a brow at him. "We're sorting out the ones we need to take with us," she says simply. "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
I chew the inside of my cheek. I know that that's what the both of them said before, at Hogwarts, that they're going to come with me. And it was mentioned the night we came here, when I told them about Voldemort torturing Ollivander. But it needs to be addressed again. I need them to understand the danger of this mission.
Ron's lips twitch. "Oh, of course!" He says and gives us both a stunned look. "I didn't realise we're gonna hunt Voldemort down in a mobile library!"
Hermione narrows her eyes at Ron and slaps his arm gently. "Quit it and start organising."
"Listen…" I say, eyeing my friends with a frown.
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Here he goes…"
"Yep," Ron agrees, heaving a sigh, and they continue sorting out books as if I haven't spoken.
"What? No, you need to listen – "
Hermione whirls towards me. "No, Harry. You are the one who needs to listen. We've been through this already. Ron and I are not going to back out on this. We are coming with you," She says heatedly, setting her jaw in a stubborn manner.
"I know we talked about this, but you need to understand the dangers – "
Ron sighs. "Listen, mate. We do. We've been preparing for this the moment we left Hogwarts. Longer even. Hermione's Obliviated her parents, made them move to Australia, for their protection. They don't know her anymore," he says, levelling me a serious look.
Hermione's eyes glisten with tears.
I'm speechless. Hermione's parents…what if she never sees them again? "I'm…" I mumble, trying to swallow the lump of guilt in my throat. "I'm sorry," I say quietly, watching my friends apologetically.
"They were going to be in danger whether I was your friend or not. I'm a Muggleborn, and that already puts me and my parents in danger," Hermione says with a small voice. "Just…can we stop arguing about this and start to make plans?" She asks, giving me a pleading look.
I swallow hard, and watch my friends for a moment, amazed by their support and resolution. "Of course. Thank you." I say, a grateful smile on my lips.
Hermione nods, and then gestures at the books. "I've been packing for days, trying to gather everything necessary from potions to books and clothes, so that if it comes to it, we can leave at a moment's notice," She explains, and lifts up a small, beaded bag for us to see.
"You've been packing…there?" I ask incredulously.
Hermione levels me with an unimpressed stare. "Seriously, Harry. Have you ever heard about this thing called magic?" She mutters lightly and then pulls out her wand, flicking it at the purse, and summoning a bunch of books from it.
Ron chuckles but then his laughter dies quickly as he takes a look at the books Hermione places between us. They look rotten, the leather spines are faded, splattered with something dark. "These books are about Horcruxes – well, mainly how to create them," Hermione explains, and with a cringe, she opens the topmost volume, rifling through the pages. "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 instructions he needed from here."
There's a short silence, before Ron speaks, "If those books were in the library, why did Voldemort have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux, then, if he'd already read that?"
"I think he only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven, already knowing how to make a Horcrux," I mutter, recollecting the conversation with the Headmaster after seeing Slughorn's memory. "I think you're right, Hermione, that could easily have been where he got the information," I say distractedly.
Hermione nods thoughtfully. "And the more I've read about them, 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!"
"Voldemort…he told Dumbledore that he had pushed the boundaries of magic further than they have ever been pushed…" I say, remembering the memory where Voldemort had applied for a job at Hogwarts.
"Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asks slowly, giving the books a disturbed look.
"Yes," Hermione says gravely, "but it would be excruciatingly painful."
"Why? How do you do it?" I ask, feeling curious.
"Remorse," Hermione says then. "You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently, the pain of it can destroy you," she says, pointing at one of the pages. "I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?" She asks with a mirthless smile.
"Do they tell you how to destroy one?" I ask, scanning the page Hermione has opened.
"They do, actually," Hermione says, putting the book down and gingerly opening the next one, as mouldy as the first one. "The book warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, Basilisk venom seems to be one of the few really fool proof ways of destroying a Horcrux."
"But the sword – " Ron starts to say, but is interrupted by Hermione.
" – was imbued with the venom," Hermione says, and Ron gives her a wry look. "And as we know, Goblin-made items absorb anything that makes them stronger," she continues.
I nod hastily at my friends. "We need the sword."
"Okay, great. Do you have it lying around somewhere?" Ron asks lightly.
I frown at the floor. "No. It…I dunno, Dumbledore must've taken it…"
"Brilliant," Ron grumbles. "It's not like we can go and ask him for it…" He mutters.
Hermione narrows her eyes at him but turns again to peer at the book in her lap, letting out a small sigh. "I think we don't necessarily have to have the sword – or a Basilisk fang…I think we need something so destructive that the Horcrux can't repair itself. The 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…"
There's a long silence as we all slip into our thoughts.
"Hold on," Ron says suddenly, looking at the books suspiciously. "I mean, it's brilliant that we've got these instructions now, but…how in the Merlin did you get these books, if they were removed from the library?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at Hermione, who blushes furiously.
"Um…I might've…taken them without permission," she says, and hastily explains how she had summoned them from Dumbledore's study after his death.
Kind of brilliant.
"I think we need to decide where to go from here," Hermione says practically, flicking her wand at the books and packing them back into her bag. "We need a place where we can plan to find the next Horcrux in peace, and I'm thinking that we are not going to have another opportunity here. Too many eyes and ears…" She says and gives us both a shrug.
"Yeah, tell me about it…" Ron grumbles.
I chew the inside of my cheek. I know I promised I'd take Regulus with me. What if…what if we could go to Grimmauld? The place is quiet, and only the Order members have access there. Maybe Mrs. Weasley wouldn't try to stop us there?
"Harry?" Hermione asks, watching me searchingly.
"Um…Grimmauld Place?" I ask, and eye my friends hesitantly. "I…um…kind of agreed with Regulus that he'd come with us…"
Ron's brows lift slightly, while Hermione gives me a knowing look.
"I mean, Dumbledore did include him in our mission…" I tell them, even though they already know it, after I explained the events of the night when we had destroyed the locket. "And he, you know…destroyed one," I say, feeling as if I'm trying to explain myself to them.
"Yeah, makes sense," Ron says casually, and then he gives me a scrutinising look.
"What?" I ask, frowning at my friend as his ears turn slightly pink. I glance at Hermione, and see her lips twitching. "What is it?" I ask again.
Ron clears his throat and looks a bit uncomfortable. "Um…I mean…I sort of…overheard something…from Fred and George," He stammers, looking anywhere but me.
Shit. I'm both curious and afraid to ask what he's overheard.
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Ron told me what he'd heard, and I explained it to him. There's nothing wrong about it, right, Ronald?" She says sharply, giving Ron a pointed look.
"Yeah, no! Of course not…" Ron says quickly, glancing me with a strained smile.
Bloody fuck.
I feel my cheeks and my neck heating up with embarrassment.
"So, it's decided then!" Hermione says brightly, breaking the awkward silence.
Ron and I both quickly mutter our agreements, and then, the quietness is broken again, this time by Ron's mother who looks angry and dishevelled as she sees us three together. She quickly ushers us back to our chores.
"It's like being a house-elf," Ron whispers, glaring at the stairs where his mother has vanished with Hermione at her heels. "Except without the job satisfaction. The sooner this wedding's over, the happier I'll be."
I arch a brow at him as we make our way to the guest room to sort out the wedding presents. "Yeah. Then we'll have nothing to do except find Horcruxes. It'll be like a holiday, won't it?" I say dryly, and Ron lets out a loud snort.
"Well, happy birthday anyway," Ron says with a grin.
I turn to look at him with surprise. "Yeah, wow…I forgot! I'm seventeen!" I say excitedly, and immediately grab my wand and summon my glasses, which of course, zoom past me to the floor.
Ron sniggers and watches me with amusement as I send his things go flying around the room, and use only magic to get dressed – which makes Ron smirk and recommend that I do my fly with my hand.
And then suddenly, he looks a bit uneasy. "You know…it really would've been better to know about…things…before I got you this," He says and moves to sit on his bed and open the drawer in his bedside table, "But, I mean…I suppose you could still use it…for other purposes…" He mutters and extracts a rectangular parcel, throwing it towards me.
I catch it, and lift a brow at him. "A book?"
Ron scratches the back of his head. "Yeah. You can bin it if you want…Or whatever," he says with a frown.
I give him a questionable look and tear the paper open. "'Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches'," I read from the front, and yeah, it is a bit uncomfortable, but at the same time…it is hilarious.
I burst in laughter. Ron stares at me with a dumbstruck look, before his lips start to twitch.
"Yeah, I'll be sure to look for tips from here," I say breathlessly, waving the book, while Ron too joins my laughter.
And if there was some awkwardness between us, it's gone now.
I receive more presents downstairs during the breakfast, and it's amazing. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley give me a golden watch; a traditional gift to a wizard when he comes of age, Mrs. Weasley explains. From Hermione I receive a Sneakoscope, and from Bill and Fleur, an enchanted razor. From the Delacours – Fleur's parents, who arrived the previous night – chocolates, and from Fred and George, an enormous box of the latest Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise.
I was a bit hesitant to open the twins' present, since, well, they had been throwing some meaningful looks and subtle comments to my direction the following days after George witnessed the kiss. But it seems that they're over it, which is a relief.
"Arthur told me to wish you a happy seventeenth, Harry," Mrs. Weasley says, placing a stack of bacons on my plate. "He left early for work, but he'll be back before dinner," she continues, and then watches me thoughtfully for a moment.
"Hm?" I voice as I chew down a mouthful of scrambled eggs and bacon.
Mrs. Weasley gives me a tight smile. "As you know, we cannot invite Regulus," She whispers his name, before glancing around the room – undoubtedly checking for the Delacours – "here for your birthday celebrations," She says, and then clears her throat. "Perhaps you would want to go there tonight, after dinner?" Mrs. Weasley finishes, a soft smile on her lips.
Ron starts to cough loudly, almost choking on his pumpkin juice. Hermione pats his back and tries to keep a straight face.
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley says, giving Ron – who looks to be recovering from his near-death experience – a mildly disapproving look, "You really should focus more on eating, Ronald," she says motherly.
Ron gives his mother an incredulous look, while I manage to swallow without choking in my food, and with horror, I think of all the possible ways this conversation could turn out. "W-What do you mean…?" I ask carefully, decidedly not looking at my friends, who I know are most certainly sharing amused looks.
Mrs. Weasley gives me a questioning look. "The twins mentioned that you two have become very close," She says lightly, and I can feel all colour draining off from my face.
"I think it is wonderful, Harry, for you to have befriended him," she continues, starting to clean up the kitchen at the same time. "There was a time when I was actually very worried for him. After his brother's…" Mrs. Weasley's words trail off, and she clears her throat, her cheeks tinting with red. "…I'm glad that things are looking better for him now," She finishes with a kind smile.
"Y-Yeah." I manage to croak, still sitting stiffly in place, wondering if Mrs. Weasley knows about the extent of our friendship or not.
"Anyway," Mrs. Weasley says, waving her wand to the cleaned-up plates, sending them back to the cabinets, "We are expecting you back here tomorrow morning, to prepare for the wedding."
Oh. Well. I guess I can't say no to that. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks," I stammer.
"Isn't Regulus invited to the wedding as well?" Hermione asks quietly. "How are you going to hide his identity from everyone?"
Mrs. Weasley chews the inside of her cheek before she speaks, "Arthur and I talked with him, and asked if he would be willing to be disguised as one of our relatives – just like Harry, actually," she explains, glancing at me.
Just the previous night, it was decided that I'm to be disguised as a red-headed distant relative of Mrs. Weasley, with the help of none other than Polyjuice Potion.
"We trust everyone we have invited, but, well, there's always a risk of slipping out something after a couple of Gillywater Cocktails," Mrs. Weasley continues, and gives us a knowing look.
Ron snorts at his breakfast, while Hermione's lips turn up into a grin.
"So, we agreed that Regulus would arrive later, when most of the other guests have arrived, to avoid any unnecessary questions about his origins," She says, and for a moment, looks slightly stressed out.
And that's not at all surprising. There's been a ton of things to do to prepare for the wedding, and that is just the foods, cleaning the place, decorations and such. But I'm sure there're a lot of things that I don't know about, for example all the extra security measures they the Weasleys have done in addition to the ones already in place. I'm grateful to them both, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, to take such measures to keep me safe.
Even though I told Mrs. Weasley not to prepare anything particular for my birthday, that just a regular dinner would be more than perfect for me, there's still a long table set up in the garden, decorated with a number of purple lanterns hanging over it. There're purple and gold streamers draped over the trees and bushes, and a golden large balloon in the shape of number 17 at the other end of the table, waiting for the evening to arrive.
The rest of the day goes uneventfully, until Mr. Weasley comes home, accompanied by the Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour.
After a rather weird and intense discussion between the Minister, me, Ron and Hermione, Scrimgeour leaves with rage and bitterness in his step.
As soon as the wards close up behind him, everyone is curious to hear what he had wanted to discuss with us.
"Dumbledore left us items in his will," Hermione explains, placing the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard on the table, for everyone to see.
Ron and I follow her example by placing our own items on the table – the Deluminator and the Snitch – which draw several curious looks and muttering as the objects are passed along the table, from hand to hand. We do not mention anything about the sword, but the meaning is not lost to Ron, Hermione and I.
Dumbledore had wanted to give us the sword to destroy the Horcruxes. And as Scrimgeour denied us that part of Dumbledore's will, we can only assume the sword is still located at Hogwarts.
After no one can come up with an explanation to why Dumbledore had left us any of the objects, we start eating dinner. The dinner is followed up by an enormous, beach-ball-sized Snitch cake, and a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday". Lupin and Tonks arrive too, grateful of being late and missing the unfortunate visit of the Minister.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Tonks says, smiling brightly as she and Lupin step into the garden. "Seventeen, eh?" She says, pulling me into a hug.
I grin and hug her back. "Yeah. I'm still amazed I've survived this far," I say jokingly, and Tonks snorts and pulls back, giving me a disapproving look.
"I never thought you wouldn't," She says with a wink and then steps forward to greet Mrs. Weasley.
Tonks looks positively joyous, her pink hair glowing in the night. Lupin, on the other hand, seems rather troubled.
"Everything okay?" I ask quietly from Lupin, who shakes my hand and congratulates me.
Lupin gives me a strained smile. "Of course, Harry," he mutters, and then gives me a small parcel. "From Dora and me."
I thank him and open the present, "Um – "
" – It's a resizable potion making-kit with basic ingredients, and a small supply of healing potions and ointments," Lupin says when I eye curiously the miniature suitcase.
"Oh! Wow. Thanks," I say, and give him a thankful smile.
Lupin nods, looking a bit more relaxed now. We're interrupted by Hagrid, who is wearing his best, and horrible, hairy brown suit. Hagrid hands me a present; a small, slightly furry drawstring pouch – mokeskin pouch – which Hagrid explains are rare, and the owner of such can hide anything there, and is the only one who has access to the objects in it.
After thanking Hagrid, we return to the table, where Fred and George are distributing drinks for everyone. George hands me a tumbler of Firewhiskey with a not-so-subtle wink, before moving towards Hagrid, presenting a bucket-sized glass of wine to the half-giant.
The evening goes on, and after several drinks and eating most of the cake, the party starts to break up. The Delacours retreat to the house, wishing everyone good night, and the Lupins soon follow, leaving towards their home.
As I'm helping to clean up the plates to the kitchen – with magic, naturally – Tonks catches me on the porch.
"Heard you're having a second party tonight," She says with a mischievous grin.
It takes a second for me to realise what she's hinting at. "Wh – I'm – " I stammer, instantly flushing bright red.
Tonks sniggers. "Tell my cousin I said hi," She whispers with a wink, and then returns to Lupin, who awaits patiently by the end of the lane.
I splutter incoherently, and hastily retreat into the dark kitchen before anyone – mainly Fred and George, as I'm sure they'd instantly draw their own conclusions – can see how flustered I am.
After calming down, I go back to the garden, where Mrs. Weasley informs me that Hagrid will escort me to the Apparition point, as he will go back to his tent for the night – a tent he had set up for the wedding, as there really is no extra room inside the house, not with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sleeping in the sitting room. Before I leave, Mrs. Weasley hands me a bag, explaining that there're leftovers from the dinner and cake, for Regulus.
I wish everyone good night, trying my best to avoid the twins' sly grins, and then I follow Hagrid towards the end of the lane.
"How are things at Hogwarts?" I ask as we walk past Mr. Weasley's garage, filled with Muggle objects, both working and broken ones.
"Well, we go' some newborn unicorns there. Been somewha' busy with 'em...I'll show yeh when yeh get back," Hagrid says merrily, hiccoughing at the same time.
I try to give him a convincing smile and nod.
"There it is," Hagrid says as we approach a large oak tree just outside the inner wards – apparently, there are a lot of security measures put up in the surroundings of the Burrow.
"Okay. Um. See you tomorrow, Hagrid," I say, feeling rather nervous, knowing it has nothing to do with the act of Apparating the first time after the Trace has been lifted.
Hagrid waves his hand as I turn on the spot, concentrating upon my destination, with jittery and excitement mixing inside me.