~ ~ = Parseltongue

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred towards Ron. Something had broken between them; permanently.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said quietly.

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione shakily.

"Are you staying, or what?"

Hermione spluttered like a fish out of water. "R-Ron we promised to s-stay, remember? We –"

"I get it," said Ron roughly. "You choose him."

"No!" Hermione cried, panicking. "No – please listen – Ron, come back!"

Harry stood perfectly still and silent as he listened to Hermione begging Ron not to leave. His eyes were closed, heart thumping in his chest. He waited for a minute and just as he heard the familiar crack of Apparition, Hermione's voice was suddenly gone too. Green eyes snapped open when the eerie silence washed over him. A lone tear trickled down his face. Harry slowly moved towards the mouth of the tent and was not surprised to see that there was no one outside. The forest clearing was eerily silent, devoid of any human beings.

Harry flicked his wand and whispered, "Homenum Revelio!"

Nothing; both Ron and Hermione had left him. He was alone; just as he had always been his entire life.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Unfortunately for Ron and Hermione, they had Apparated right into a group of snatchers, the Ministry-authorised bounty hunters tasked with capturing escaped Muggle-borns. The wizards in the group were quite stupid, not realising that they had captured two of the most wanted witches and wizards in the country who were known to be best friends with Undesirable Number One. However, even though they weren't as ruthless as the traditional Death Eaters, Ron and Hermione were still questioned about their age and identities; their replies seemed to severely confuse the snatchers. Using their bickering as a distraction, through pure desperation, Hermione managed to reclaim their wands while Ron knocked out the snatcher holding him. The two then immediately Disapparated to another forest clearing.

It took a couple of minutes for both teenagers to catch their breath, their hearts still pounding in their chest at their near capture by the Ministry of Magic and subsequent escape. Ron was the first to recover.

"Hermione, I – I," Ron stammered, his skin milk-white due to fear, making the freckles on his face stand out prominently. Only now, far away from the tent, did he realise the magnitude of what he had done. The snatchers had driven the reality of war back into his brain.

"I can't deal with this," snapped Hermione, her entire body trembling due to shock, fear and anger. "I can't believe we actually left him. How? How could you leave, Ronald?! You decided to leave Harry all alone, knowing the burden he bears on his shoulders! If we don't return to the tent, I don't even want to think about what could happen to him. Harry can't do this by himself, you know that! Professor Dumbledore asked us to always be there for him, Ron! And what did we do? We abandoned him!"

Ron swallowed as he remembered the conversation that he and Hermione had with Professor Dumbledore during the summer before their sixth year. The headmaster had revealed the existence of a prophecy that tied their best friend and the Dark Lord together in destiny. Dumbledore had also explained to them about the heavy burden that Harry carried due to the words of the prophecy, assigned the near-impossible task of defeating Lord Voldemort. Further, he requested them to always stand by Harry's side so that their friend could fulfil his destiny when the time arrived.

Both had vowed to Dumbledore that they would. There was no need for the aged headmaster to ask them to have Harry's back. After all, he was their best friend and they would gladly do so.

Neither, at the time, expected things to go so wrong. They had broken faith with Professor Dumbledore by abandoning Harry, accidentally or not. And if something were to happen to Harry while they were gone …

"We have to get back there immediately," Ron shouted frantically.

"Glad you realise that! And when we get there, don't pick a fight with him, okay?"

Ron scowled, but decided not to argue with her for now. There were more pressing matters to attend to. Taking each other's hand, they Disapparated, only to find nothing at the place where they had set up their camp.

"Where is he?" Hermione whispered, swallowing the bile in her throat as she scanned the area with her wand. Her hands were trembling. Had Harry left already or were her protective enchantments really that good?

"We'll have to call out to him and search the area," Ron suggested, hoping that it was a good idea. "He's bound to hear us."

But it was futile; after two days, it was clear that Harry Potter had disappeared.

Whether he had disappeared voluntarily or through coercion was a question that remained unanswered.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter walked around in a large circle as he muttered under his breath, casting the standard protective enchantments around the tent, his Invisibility Cloak draped over his shoulder. Unable to bear the dark memories of the place where his best friends had abandoned him, he had left barely twenty minutes after Ron and Hermione had Disapparated. The sound of waves hitting the shore rent the air. Unfortunately, the therapeutic sound and peaceful surroundings did not act as a balm to his wounded heart. Ron's words kept echoing in his mind, piercing every inch of his skin as if they were equal to the effects of a Cruciatus Curse.

——————

"We thought you knew what you were doing! We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!"

"Don't lie! You said it too; you said you were disappointed, you said you'd thought he had a bit more to go on than –"

"It's all right for you, isn't it, with your parents and siblings safely out of the way –"

——————

Harry gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anger. What did the ginger idiot know? Dumbledore had told him nothing on how to find and destroy the Horcruxes. It was the same as usual, a pattern that had emerged from the day he had re-entered the magical world and could be traced to this very moment; the headmaster would set up a test, either by himself or through the situation at hand, to see if Harry would sink or swim.

His opinion of the late headmaster had dwindled significantly over the past few months. Harry could understand now that he had been completely unprepared for this mission. Did Dumbledore tell him where he suspected the Horcruxes were? Did the old man tell him how to destroy the foul things? Did he even bother to train Harry on what to do? No! As usual, he messed it up by showing useless memories throughout the year; memories that could have all been viewed in one night. Memories that did nothing to help him now, when he was on the run from the government and still had multiple Horcruxes to destroy. But at the time, Harry had thought the headmaster was infallible and believed in him, knowing that Dumbledore would always be around to solve his problems.

If only he had known then how short the aged headmaster's life would be, the present situation may not be so dire.

Or would it still be?

Never had he been truly alone in six years, other than during the summer months when he was confined to his bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. Even during the Triwizard Tournament, when Ron hadn't believed that Harry had not put his name in the Goblet of Fire, Hermione, at least, had been by his side.

This was the first time that he was without Hermione's support.

Shouldn't he have learnt his lesson by now? Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Ron and Hermione. This journey was always meant to be his alone.

But what was the point? Harry had no idea what to do, and with Voldemort having taken control of the Ministry of Magic, he had legitimate power behind him. What could a mere seventeen-year-old wizard do when powerhouses like Albus Dumbledore had been unable to destroy the Dark Lord?

Harry had never felt this useless. He hated himself for being in this situation. Tens of thousands of witches and wizards were dying or were already dead because he, the so-called Chosen One, didn't know how to proceed.

The metal locket that housed Lord Voldemort's soul, hanging from around Harry's neck, was slowly becoming ice-cold as his mind was tormented with negative emotions.

What to do? He was alone now, without money or resources. Harry snorted bitterly. He didn't even have money! Only now did he realise that money, information and allies were crucial during a time of war. He had no allies. Any knowledge of what was going on outside his bubble was non-existent. As for money, Hermione had taken a little Muggle money before she had left her parents' house, but they realised pretty quickly that it was not enough. Harry knew that he had his parents' vault at Gringotts that would have certainly alleviated their financial strain, but how was he supposed to go to the goblin bank when the Order kept making sure that he was at the Dursleys like a good little boy?

Good little boy! It was apt, considering Mrs Weasley's reaction every time Harry had brought up the subject of Voldemort over the last two years. And yet they expected him to fight and defeat an immortal Dark Lord!

Harry snorted at the irony.

His scar began to prickle again, but he paid it no mind. Voldemort's mood swings were not worth dealing with right now.

He needed allies, but who would be willing to help him? The entire wizarding population in Magical Britain was terrified of even uttering a single word against the new regime that had taken control of the Ministry of Magic. Innumerable people had been ripped apart over the past year and a half, with thousands of Muggle-borns held captive. He had to do something, but what?

——————-

'Alone, like you always were as a child, aren't you Harry? Uncle Vernon was right. A freak like you does not deserve happiness. It can all be over very soon. You can run away … you can kill yourself instead … then you would be able to see your parents and Sirius again. Your wand is right here … you know the incantation for the curse … do it!'

———————

White hot anger erupted in his mind as the Horcrux began whispering to him again. Harry yanked the locket from around neck and threw it towards the other side of the tent where it landed on the floor. How dare that stupid locket remind him that he was alone? How dare the locket remind him of the Dursleys again at a time that he considered to be the lowest point in his life?

Fury burned through his veins at the sight of the wretched thing. He wanted to destroy the locket by any means necessary. He would make Voldemort pay!

His scar was burning and he found his vision blurred due to the pounding headache.

Harry approached the bejewelled locket that was innocently lying on the floor, looking nothing like an instrument that housed a piece of an insane Dark Lord's soul. His green eyes were glowing eerily. The expression on his face showed immense rage. Ron and Hermione's betrayal had been the last straw. The pressure was too much.

He glared at the locket, gripping the handle of his wand tightly in readiness.

"~ Open ~" Harry hissed in Parseltongue.

The golden doors of the locket swung wide with a little click. Behind both of the glass windows within blinked a living eye, dark and handsome as Tom Riddle's eyes had been before he turned them scarlet and slit-pupiled.

Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux. "~ I have seen your heart, and it is mine. ~"

"~ Really? ~" Harry hissed back in dark amusement as he smirked at the locket. His eyes were unfocussed and he looked deranged. The people of Magical Britain had finally pushed him too far. Ron Weasley had proved to be the catalyst that had finally managed to shatter the last vestiges of Harry Potter's innocence.

"~ I have seen your dreams, Harry Potter, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible… ~"

Harry laughed a loud, maniacal laugh that carried throughout the tent. How predictable of Voldemort! The man really needed more material if he was going to taunt people. He had said similar things in Harry's first, second, fourth and fifth years.

"Oh, my poor naïve Tommy boy," mocked Harry. "Such a pitiful existence after your Mummy didn't want to raise you. Daddy didn't care about you because of what you were and that left you with issues. Tsk, tsk; what a shame, Riddle. What happened to the noble line of Slytherin?"

In response, Sirius Black, James Potter and Lily Potter emerged from the locket. The younger boy stumbled back in surprise as they loomed over him, glaring at him with utter loathing on their life-like faces.

"~ You're the reason I'm dead, ~" hissed Riddle-Sirius angrily. "~ If your stupid mind could have realised that it was a trap, I would still be alive. I broke out of Azkaban for you! Survived on rats to protect you! And this is how you repay me? My death was your fault! ~"

"~ What about us? ~" said Riddle-James snidely. "~ It is this little bastard's fault that we died so young. It's because of you that my wife and I were in danger! Lily and I sacrificed our lives to protect you, only for you to waste it! Why were you even born? I should have killed you the second we found out about the prophecy! ~"

"~ You took my husband away from me, ~" spat Riddle-Lily, her eyes red. "~ You tore my life apart! You brought us nothing but misery! I hate you! I wish you were never born! If you have any remorse for what you did to your parents, you would kill yourself! ~"

"~ DO IT, ~" all three of them screamed. "~ KILL YOURSELF! ~"

Harry stared at them with anger burning in his eyes. Not for a second did he allow himself to be tricked by the Horcrux's words. He had been fooled by Voldemort before. Not again. White-hot anger coursed through his veins as the three spectres continued to bellow at him, ordering him to kill himself.

However, instead of pointing the tip of his wand at his forehead like the Horcrux wanted, Harry pointed it at the locket and let all the righteous anger flow and snarled for the first time in his life –

"Avada Kedavra!"

The jet of green light flew from the tip of Harry's wand and hit the locket perfectly. There was a metallic sound, followed by a long, drawn out scream. Harry stood there, breathing hard, and slowly collapsed on the ground as his knees gave out. With a silent flick of his wand, he summoned the locket and saw, to his immense relief, that the Horcrux had been destroyed.

"Had I known this would work, I would've done it sooner," Harry murmured to himself as he blacked out.