Year 7-14: An Unexpected Reunion

A/N: Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger for an extra week...life got busy out of nowhere. I'll try to update more quickly the next time I end a chapter on a cliffhanger. Surely I wouldn't do it two chapters in a row, right guys? Right?!

Harry could hardly believe his eyes. It defied all comprehension: how could Ron Weasley, of all people, be here of all places? The redhead looked much skinnier than the last time he'd seen him, like he hadn't eaten in weeks, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Harry had no idea what to do or what to make of it.

Then, voices wafted down from the manor as more guests stepped out onto the balcony for fresh air. Harry snapped out of his stupor, realizing how bad it would look if he and Ron were spotted together. He needed to get them both out of there, and fast.

But where? Raven House was out, as he couldn't give Ron the secret while unconscious; Grimmauld Place and Godric's Hollow were too risky, in case a family member stumbled upon them. No time to ponder the dilemma. Harry bent down and grabbed Ron's arm before Apparating them to the first secluded place he could think of.

The Shrieking Shack creaked and groaned ominously in the wind, but fortunately was as deserted as Harry had hoped. He propped up Ron's unconscious form into a broken armchair, pocketed the teen's wand and summoned heavy ropes to restrain him as a precautionary measure. He had a sneaking suspicion that the teen would not be too happy to see him when he awoke. Harry then stepped back and pointed his own wand at the redhead, whispering, "Ennervate."

Ron came to violently, thrashing about and trying to free himself. He quickly re-oriented himself and saw Harry with his wand trained upon him.

"Go on then, Potter," Ron spat bitterly. "Kill me. I have nothing to say to you, traitor."

Harry could do nothing but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. In spite of Ron's hostile demeanor, he was genuinely glad to see him.

"How are you, Ron?" he asked. "You've looked better."

"Felt better, too," Ron sneered. "Hasn't exactly been a fun couple of months. So why don't you get it over with and put me out of my misery?"

"Ron, I'm not going to kill you," said Harry. "We need to talk."

"I'm not telling you a damned thing," said Ron defiantly. "Or your new boss. Feel free to summon him here – I'll tell him the same thing to his face."

"Ron, calm down and take a breath," said Harry. "I'm not calling anybody. We're on the same side here."

"Don't patronize me," Ron scoffed. "I know you're a Death Eater now. You've won, alright? No need to rub salt in the wound."

"Ron, you prat, listen for a second!" Harry groaned. "I'm still working against Voldemort. I've been trying to find you lot before he does, so we can defeat him and put an end to this war. Together."

"And why should I believe that?" Ron demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached into his robes. "Recognize this?" he asked, procuring the silver ring and shoving it in Ron's face. The boy's eyes went wide at the sight of the Resurrection Stone, but he quickly tried to mask his features.

"Dunno what that is," Ron denied.

"Yeah, you do," said Harry. "Dumbledore told you three to find the third Hallow, right? That's what he and Neville were doing at the Gaunt shack that night, and what you three have been looking for all this time. Only, Dumbledore didn't know I found it first, which I would have gladly told you, if you had just bloody told me what you lot were up to last year!"

"Well, congratulations," Ron said sarcastically. "You got the Stone and the Wand. But you'll never become the Master of Death. Neville will never give up the Cloak, no matter how hard you look for him."

"I don't give a rat's arse about becoming Master of Death," said Harry. "I just want Voldemort dead. I don't care who is holding the Hallows when the time comes."

"Then why did you kill Dumbledore? Ron demanded. "He was the only person who could defeat You-Know-Who in a battle!"

"He was dead no matter what I did," said Harry. "I'm sure Neville told you what happened up on that tower. The Death Eaters were going to take him back to Lockhart to look into his mind, and they would have seen what he and Neville were up to. Would you rather that information got into enemy hands, or the secret died with Dumbledore?"

Ron blinked a few times in rapid succession as he processed these words. For the first time his hostile demeanor began to soften, as if he was truly considering what Harry had to say. "Hermione suggested that as a possibility," he admitted begrudgingly. "But Neville and I didn't buy it. It was so obvious that you were going down a Dark path."

"I won't apologize for dabbling with Dark magic to strengthen myself," Harry said firmly. "But you're an idiot if you think I'd want anything to do with Voldemort and his band of fools. Everything I've done in the past six and a half years was to try and defeat the bastard."

"You sure don't have a problem supporting his ideology now," Ron snarled. "You're practically You-Know-Who's poster boy."

"You think I had a choice?" said Harry. He rolled up his sleeve to show Ron the Dark Mark on his arm, causing the redhead to flinch away in fear. "He'll kill my entire family if I don't play along. Believe me, mate, it hasn't been a walk in the park for me, either...one false move, and everyone I care about is gone."

Ron considered this for a long while, still looking skeptical. "I visited my brother Bill yesterday," he said. "He swears you wiped his memory and stole his girlfriend, the Delacour witch. He says not to trust you no matter what."

"Bill knew too much that could jeopardize everything," said Harry. "Who do you think I was getting help from to find the Stone in the first place? Who do you think broke through the curses at the Gaunt Shack, and put the Rotting Curse on the replacement ring? Only, he panicked and tried to back out, so I had to wipe his memory to preserve the mission. And he lost Fleur all of his own doing – I didn't 'take' her from anybody."

Ron said nothing, still trying to wrap his head around what Harry was telling him. He was starting to come down from his initial panic now, though he remained suspicious, glaring defiantly at Harry.

"Enough about me," said Harry. "What the hell are you doing here? And where are Neville and Hermione?"

"Not telling you," Ron said bitterly. But Harry saw something else in the boy's expression: regret. He realized that Ron hadn't mentioned the pair once, hadn't asked after their condition. If they had been with him at the banquet, he would have done so at once. That allowed Harry to read between the lines and realize the truth.

"You don't know where they are," Harry surmised with a disappointed sigh. "Were you separated from them? Or did you plan to split up and meet again later?"

Ron didn't answer the question. He continued to stare stubbornly at the ground, refusing to meet Harry's eyeline.

"So you thought you'd come after me and try to take the Wand back, was that it?" Harry demanded. "You were going to ambush me outside the banquet?"

"Wasn't there for you," Ron grumbled.

"Don't give me that," Harry scoffed. "Why else would you be lurking around where you knew I would be? Did you really think you stood a chance to get me alone and take back—"

"Look, I was there for Daphne, alright?" Ron groaned.

Harry paused at this. "Daphne?" he repeated, confused.

Ron looked somewhat ashamed of himself, his face reddening. "I saw the picture of you two in the Prophet, along with the marriage announcement," he said bitterly. "I've missed her terribly while on the run. And it's Christmas, and I've been so damned lonely, and...I just wanted to see her again, that's all! I read about the banquet and staked outside the manor, hoping maybe the two of you would be there, just to get one last look at her in person."

Harry saw the truth of Ron's words in his longing expression, his haunted words. He was still smitten with Daphne, and clearly devastated that she was with somebody else – a sworn enemy. It made him realize that this was, in fact, no trap...Ron was genuinely here for his own purposes. He suddenly felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy – despite all the resentment and pettiness between them, Ron was just a love-struck teen looking for closure with the girl he loved.

It was then that Harry remembered he had left Daphne alone at the banquet before leaving with Ron. He glanced at his watch – it was nearly midnight, meaning the banquet was likely winding down by now. He needed to return quickly to fetch her, lest he draw any unwanted attention for leaving separately from his wife.

"Sorry about this," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the redhead. "Stupefy." Ron's body went limp in the chair, and Harry immediately Apparated away. He re-emerged on the grounds of the manor again and hurried back inside, where guests were slowly trickling out of the ballroom as the night drew to a close.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!" a jovial pure-blood wizard greeted him as Harry attempted to squeeze past. "Might I have a word? I don't know if you've considered a future in finance, but I'm starting a business to predict market futures using Divination, and could use a sharp mind like yours—"

"Not now, sorry," Harry said gruffly, brushing off the man as he crossed the room. He didn't have time to field job offers and attempts to cozy up to his father through him. He needed to find Daphne, and quickly.

He found her in the main ballroom, sitting awkwardly beside her sister while their mother Ariadne made small talk with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "Daphne?" he said. "We need to go. Now."

"Now, Potter, no need to be hasty," Lucius sneered at him. "I was just in the middle of conversation with my future daughter-in-law and her family."

"Afraid it will have to wait for another time," said Harry, holding out his hand expectantly. Daphne gave him an exasperated look, but accepted his hand, allowing him to guide her away.

"This will be seen as a slight against the Malfoys," she huffed once they were out of earshot. "That will not bode well for when my sister and Draco are married—"

"Trust me, this is more important," said Harry.

He steered Daphne through the crowd towards the exit, ignoring all attempts to get his attention. He spotted his father across the room, standing beside Andromeda as a Wizengamot member monopolized their attention; James briefly locked eyes with Harry, and nodded his acknowledgment. Thank Merlin Pettigrew left, Harry thought, hoping his father had avoided any negative headlines the next morning.

He led Daphne outside into the cool air, then paused to think. He had originally planned to drop her off at home before returning to the Shrieking Shack, but realized he had an opportunity here. If he wanted Ron to fully trust and open up to him, there was no easier way to convince him than through Daphne. So he linked arms with her and Apparated them both back to the Shrieking Shack.

Daphne looked around the dilapidated building in confusion. "What did you bring me here for?" she demanded.

"To show you something," said Harry. "Or rather, someone."

A confused Daphne followed Harry into the next room. She gasped when she saw Ron bound to the chair, head lolled forward onto his chest. "Who is that?" she asked, unable to see his face through the darkness.

"Ennervate," Harry muttered. Ron came to once more, looking around wildly. His eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on Daphne and going wide with disbelief.

"Daph?" he said weakly.

Daphne gaped at Ron for a long moment, as if not believing her eyes. Then, she launched herself across the room, leaping into Ron's lap and smothering him with kisses. Harry Vanished Ron's bindings and he engulfed her with his hands, kissing her back passionately, pulling her in close as if never wanting to let her go again. The two lovebirds clung desperately to one another, hands roaming over each other's backs, mouths attacking one another with fervor…

Harry let the impassioned display go on for several uncomfortable seconds, then loudly cleared his throat. Daphne and Ron sprang apart, as if remembering that there was another person present.

"Oh, Merlin," Daphne stammered, her face as red as Ron's hair. "I'm s-sorry, Harry...I did not mean to be unfaithful, but I was simply caught off-guard—"

"Relax, Daphne," Harry chuckled. "It's always been clear to me who you're truly faithful to."

"But...I don't understand," said Ron, looking like he'd been struck by a Bludger. "You married Potter. I thought you'd moved on from me."

"She didn't have a choice in the matter, Ron," said Harry. "We were forced into it because of the new laws."

"Really?" said Ron, a look of awe in his expression as he turned to Daphne. "You...you don't love him?"

"I've only loved one person in my life," said Daphne breathlessly. "And he abandoned me six months ago."

"I didn't leave you because I wanted to," Ron said hastily. "I've missed you every day since we last spoke, my love. Merlin, it's so good to see you again."

Daphne made an odd choked sound that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob. She leapt back into Ron's arms, giving him another prolonged, desperate kiss. Harry couldn't bring himself to interrupt the display...after months of witnessing forced marriages and unhappy couples, such a reminder of what a real, passionate relationship looked like warmed his heart.

Harry awkwardly turned away from the couple until they broke apart again a minute later. Daphne looked like she was going to burst with happiness; Ron looked like he couldn't believe his good fortune.

"Where have you been all this time?" asked Daphne. "What have you been doing?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Harry chuckled. Ron eyed Harry nervously one last time, but clearly decided he was no longer a threat, allowing himself to relax at last.

"I've been on the run, with Neville and Hermione," Ron sighed. "We didn't know who we could trust after Dumbledore died, not to mention Neville's Gran, so we went into hiding."

"But we could have helped you!" Daphne insisted. "We could've helped you hide! Right, Harry?"

"Er...Harry was kinda the last person we wanted to see," Ron chuckled awkwardly. "And we didn't know how deep the conspiracy went. After Minister Potter started supporting blood supremacist ideology, it kinda confirmed our fears."

"But it isn't his fault!" said Daphne. "The Minister didn't have a choice, and neither did Harry!"

"Yes, I can see that now," Ron muttered. "But we were scared and alone, and didn't know where else to go. The only thing we could do was try and complete the mission Dumbledore gave us."

"What mission?" asked Daphne.

Ron and Harry shared a look. "It doesn't matter now," Ron sighed. "It turned out to be a wild goose chase. But Neville and Hermione don't know that yet – they're still out there somewhere, searching for something."

"Why aren't you with them anymore?" asked Harry. "Did something happen to separate you?"

Ron squirmed uncomfortably at this question – he looked somewhat ashamed of himself. "I, er, may have got cold feet a few days ago," he admitted. "We were on the run, with no food and no plan, trying to find that damned Stone with no clues. I suggested we should split up to cover more ground, and left to do my own 'research'. In reality, I was too proud to admit I was tired of living on the run."

"Well, I hope you aren't expecting a warm welcome back at Hogwarts," said Harry. "You're wanted pretty much everywhere in Britain."

"I know that," Ron sighed. "Bill told me what's been going on. He let me stay one night in his flat, but then made me leave, because he's being watched and doesn't want to get in trouble. I've been sort of bouncing around from there, nicking food from bins and trying to get information about what's going on in the Ministry."

"But you know how to find them again, right?" asked Daphne hopefully. "You can bring them here so we can clear everything up?"

"I lost their trail days ago," Ron sighed. "We've been camping in remote locations all over Britain for months, far from civilization. Hell, we were even talking about going to the continent to continue our search there...they could be thousands of miles away for all I know." Harry groaned at this news...he'd been half-hoping to speak to Neville that very evening.

"What are we going to do?" Daphne wondered aloud, still clinging to Ron as if fearful he might disappear again. "You're wanted all over Britain, and our families are being watched too closely."

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," Ron admitted. "Hell, it's been months since I had a concrete plan."

"We need to plan our next steps," said Harry. "And figure out a path forward to win this war. So can we please put aside all the past nonsense between us and work together?"

He and Ron met eyes. Harry saw that his plan had worked – that Ron finally understood the truth. He saw hope and gratitude in the boy's eyes, realizing that all was not lost after all.

"Alright," Ron nodded. Daphne too nodded in agreement.

Harry checked his watch once more; it was well past midnight, and he was beginning to fade from his initial adrenaline high. "It's late. We should continue this conversation in the morning."

"Mother will worry if I'm not home soon," said Daphne, wringing her hands together nervously as she looked from Harry to Ron. "What if we aren't able to see each other again?"

There was a prolonged silence as both Ron and Daphne grappled with this dilemma. Harry saw the worry in their faces, the fear that they might be forcibly separated once more.

"Your mother saw you leave with me," Harry pointed out. "So did my dad. They'll both assume we're together and won't expect us until the morning."

Daphne considered this. Her eyes went wide when she realized what Harry was suggesting. "So...you're saying…?" she said hopefully.

"We'll all stay here for the night," said Harry. "Let's get some rest, and figure out a plan in the morning."

Both Ron and Daphne visibly relaxed at these words. "Right," said Ron, stretching widely and making a great show of feigning nonchalance. "I only count one bed up here. I say the lady can have it, and Potter and I can slum it on the floor downstairs—"

"Don't be stupid," Harry chuckled. "You two stay up here. I'll be downstairs keeping watch."

Ron and Daphne shared an incredulous look. "Er...you don't mind, mate?" said Ron, his face reddening slightly.

"I don't sleep much myself, so no reason to disturb you lot," Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to lose sleep over me. We'll talk in the morning." And he exited the room, shutting the door on the two teens (and casting a Muffling Charm on it for good measure).

Harry had his own motives behind leaving the two alone together, of course. In addition to allowing the two lovesick teens to reconnect, it ensured that Ron would not have second thoughts and attempt to flee into the night. Harry knew Ron was his only lifeline to Neville, whom he desperately needed to find, and wasn't about to let him go without a concrete plan to get in touch with him again.

Daphne also raised an important point: there wasn't really a viable way to bring Ron back into the fold without raising suspicion. Harry didn't want to just release Ron back into the wild, but nor could he see a way to keep him close. What would they do once Hogwarts term started up again? How could they remain in touch without raising suspicion to anybody? Harry needed time to ponder this new development and how to use it to his advantage.

He badly wished that Fleur was here to help him navigate this situation. She was always his sounding-board to help him solve problems, tempering his more outlandish and reckless ideas. He also just missed her company...despite a Christmas spent with family, he felt lonely tonight, curled beneath a ratty blanket on the creaking floorboards. He would love to just hear her tinkling laughter once more...to breathe in the flowery scent of her hair...to feel her warm embrace…

Stop that, Harry chastised himself. His mind was wandering due to the charged atmosphere of the two lovesick teens just one floor above him. He cast a Warming Charm on himself and tried to get some shut-eye to clear his mind.

Harry felt no closer to answers when he awoke at dawn, bleary-eyed and cold in the drafty building. He lit a fire in the run-down fireplace, settling in front of the flames to mull things over further. He heard creaking footsteps upstairs soon after, and Ron and Daphne descended the steps, hand in hand. They too looked like they hadn't gotten much sleep. They wordlessly bundled up together and sat in front of the fire.

"Right, so I've given it some thought," said Daphne to breach the uneasy silence. "Both Harry and I have safe houses Ron can use. You can split time between them, and I'll invent some excuse with my mum to make sure it's empty on the days you use mine. Harry will have to let you in on the secret since his is under Fidelius, and I'll need a drop of your blood to get you through my family wards, but—"

"Daphne, we can't just hole him up in a safe house forever," Harry chuckled.

"Well, it wouldn't be forever, would it?" Ron pointed out. "Just long enough to get the word out to everyone that we're bringing the fight to You-Know-Who."

"It's not that simple, Ron—" Harry sighed.

"Why not?" Ron protested. "Neville will come once he learns we're making a fight of it. And you can give him the other two Hallows, and he can kill the bastard once and for all!"

"There are a lot of problems with that plan," said Harry. "Number one being that the Hallows aren't some magical entity that makes you invincible."

"Dumbledore said it would make Neville the Master of Death," said Ron stubbornly.

"Dumbledore doesn't know what the hell he's talking about," said Harry. "He bought into the fairy tale he grew up hearing as a child, but we don't know if it's actually true."

"Sure it is!" Ron insisted. "We know they all exist, don't we? The infallible Cloak! The Stone that can summon the dead! The unbeatable Wand!"

"Unbeatable, huh?" said Harry, pulling out the Elder Wand and twiddling it between his fingers. "Then how did I take this from Neville?"

Ron blinked a few times at this question – clearly he hadn't considering this much in depth. "Well...maybe together they combine to do something more powerful!" he said. "It's worth a try, innit?"

"Yeah, maybe," Harry shrugged. "But like I said, that's not the only problem."

"What else, then?" Ron demanded.

"There's something else I need to do before Voldemort becomes vulnerable," said Harry. "I can't give you all the details right now. But until I've completed this task, he can't be defeated."

"Then let me help!" said Ron. "I've got nothing better to do, mate – what can I do?"

Harry considered this. It was enticing to have such a willing volunteer, but he did not see how Ron would be of much help with the horcruxes. He couldn't exactly walk into Gringotts and retrieve the Cup for them; nor was he a Gryffindor in this timeline, preventing him from pulling the Sword out of the Sorting Hat. He supposed he could tell Ron about Nagini, but that was the horcrux that would have to be saved for last, since it was the one Voldemort would notice the absence of first.

"The best thing you can do for me right now is find Neville," said Harry. "He and I need to have a frank conversation before we can end this war. Until that happens, we're stuck in one place."

"But I dunno where they went," Ron said glumly. "Hermione's quite good at covering our tracks, and we never stayed in one place longer than a day or two...oh, wait! I have a brilliant idea!"

Ron stood and drew his wand, clearing his throat. "Expecto Patronum," he muttered, and a silver dog burst into being over their heads. "Go to Neville and Hermione. Tell them I've found Harry Potter, and he's on our side! We're at the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Come quickly!"

The dog barked once and bounded out of the Shack and out of sight. Ron and Daphne watched it go, faces alight with anticipation; Harry, however, sighed despondently.

"Well," he muttered, "that just ensured we won't see them today, or any time soon for that matter."

"What are you talking about?" Ron frowned. "They'll be thrilled! We can finally all get together and craft a plan!"

"Let me ask you a question," said Harry. "If I had sent you three a Patronus the night Dumbledore died, saying it was all a misunderstanding and we should meet in a private place, what would you have thought?"

"Probably that you were lying," Ron shrugged. "But that doesn't matter – now I know that's not true!"

"Neville and Hermione don't," Harry pointed out. "The last time you were with them, you all believed I was your mortal enemy and working for Voldemort. They haven't seen you in days. And now all of a sudden you and I are chums again, and you want them to leave the safety of their hiding place to meet here? What are they going to assume?"

Ron was confused for a moment; then, his face fell when he realized what he had done. "They'll assume I was compromised," he groaned, sinking back to the ground beside Daphne. "That I'm being forced to contact them against my will and lure them into a trap."

"Oh, damn," said Daphne. "I didn't think of that."

"And now it's going to be harder for you to find them again," Harry added. "If you show up close to where they're hiding, they'll have to assume you can't be trusted anymore."

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned. "I've stuffed it up, haven't I?"

"It probably doesn't matter either way," Harry reasoned. "Hermione's smart enough to assume you were compromised already if you've been gone this long. They would have moved on long ago without you."

"But you must know where they're going next?" Daphne piped up. "We can try and intercept them at their next destination!"

"We haven't had a proper destination in months," Ron sighed. "All our leads dried up, and we've just been wandering aimlessly. That's part of why I left in the first place."

"But surely you would have tried to come after me eventually, right?" said Harry. "You knew I had the Wand and would have tried to ambush me and steal it back."

"Yeah, we discussed it," Ron said sheepishly. "But you were untouchable at Hogwarts, and besides, we knew you could wipe the floor with all three of us if we tried anything. We just planned to find the Stone somehow and figure out the Wand bit later."

"Well, we have to find some way to draw them out," said Harry. "You really can't think of anywhere they might be going next?"

Ron contemplated this. "We did talk about trying to find the resistance movement," he said. "We read in the Prophet about the smuggling operation to get Muggle-borns out of Britain. Hermione figured if we weren't doing anything else productive, we could help them, but Neville and I outvoted her to keep looking for the Stone."

"D'you think they might try to connect with them again?" asked Harry.

"Maybe," Ron shrugged. "Hard to tell."

"Then that's what you should do next," said Harry firmly. "Find a way to get in touch with Cedric and Tonks. They might have resources to help find Neville and Hermione. Then we can all coordinate a plan together."

Harry noticed the subtle shift in Ron's body language at this suggestion. He sat up a little straighter, looking more alert and energized than he had all night. He finally had a purpose again, and Harry knew he had succeeded in convincing him.

"I'll start the search straight away," Ron said resolutely. "I'll find them if it's the last thing I ever do."

"Surely you don't mean today?" said Daphne, gripping Ron's hand tightly as if he might run off that very second. "It's Boxing Day...and New Year's is right around the corner...you must stay with us and rest! Use our safe houses for the rest of the holiday! Right, Harry? Can't he stay at your place for a while?"

Ron and Harry shared a grim look – they had both come to the same conclusion independently of one another.

"I can't hide away at a safe house for weeks or months," Ron told her softly, as he gently removed his hand from her vice grip. "And I won't put any of your loved ones in danger by asking for their help. I need to make myself useful in this war, either by finding our friends, or joining the resistance."

"Joining the…?" Daphne said slowly, before her eyes went wide. "Oh Ronald, no, you mustn't!"

"There are a lot of people suffering on the fringes of this war," said Ron. "If I can make a difference to save lives, rather than sit around warm and comfortable, then that's what I'm gonna do."

Daphne's face began to well up with tears as she realized what he was saying. "I'll c-come w-with you," she blubbered.

"No, my love," said Ron firmly, cupping her cheek. "You go back to Hogwarts with Harry and the others, so no one suspects a thing. When the moment comes, we'll fight together. Until then, we have to play our respective parts in this war. Okay?"

Daphne looked devastated by this prospect. But she slowly nodded in agreement, as Ron pulled her in for a tender kiss. It was a heart-wrenching sight, to see two people so clearly smitten, brutally torn apart by their circumstances. Ron eventually broke apart and looked to Harry, giving him a pleading sort of look that said, Look after her, will you? Harry nodded solemnly, and Ron nodded back his gratitude.

"Will you be able to track down Cedric and Tonks, d'you reckon?" Harry asked. "Voldemort's people are trying to find them too."

"Hermione had some clever ideas for how to look for them," said Ron. "After spending so long on the run, you learn how to lurk in the right places to overhear when and where things are taking place. That's how I found the banquet, after all."

"What about Neville and Hermione?" Daphne added. "Can you find them again?"

"I hope so," Ron muttered. "There's a few more places we discussed looking, places we initially discarded as too risky. If I'm lucky, I might intercept them there, and I can explain everything."

"It's essential that I speak to Neville before this is all over," said Harry sternly. "There are things he needs to know in order for this war to end." Like the fact that he needs to die, he thought grimly. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to, nor one he had any idea how to approach with the boy. But the horcrux in Neville's head continued to keep Voldemort alive, and had to be addressed one way or another.

"How should I get in contact with you if I do find them?" asked Ron.

Harry considered this. "Tell you what," he said. "We'll meet back here in two weeks' time. Saturday night at midnight. We can coordinate and share anything we've learned in the meantime."

"Sounds like a plan," said Ron, before turning to Daphne. "Two weeks isn't so long, Daph. I'll see you again before you know it." Daphne still looked alarmed by the prospect of Ron leaving her again, but she begrudgingly nodded her agreement.

All three of them stood. There was an awkward silence as they all looked to one another, unsure of how to end things.

Ron broke the ice by extending his hand to Harry. "Thanks for everything, mate," he said. "And, er...sorry about how it all went down last year. I had the wrong idea about you all along."

"Appreciate it," said Harry, accepting the handshake. "You can make up for it by finding Neville for me."

"I will," Ron nodded firmly. Harry saw the spark in the teen's eye, the resolve to complete his new mission, finally given a purpose again. Ron was a strategist at heart, and Harry knew if he was given a motive, an end goal, he would find a way to victory one way or another. He just had to hope it would come sooner than later.

"Be safe," Daphne whispered to Ron, before giving him another longing kiss. Harry turned away to give them a moment; thankfully, they broke apart soon enough, both looking forlorn at the prospect of being separated again. Ron gave the two of them a final nod before turning on the spot and Apparating away.

Harry linked arms with Daphne and Apparated to the Greengrass safe house. "D'you need a minute before seeing your mum and sister?" Harry asked her gently as they approached the front door.

Daphne looked like she'd been on the verge of tears a moment ago. However, a veil of neutrality passed over her features as she composed herself, receding into the proper pure-blood heiress role she used to guard her emotions. "I'll be fine," she said. "Thank you for the hospitality." And she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before disappearing inside.

Harry Apparated back into the entryway of Grimmauld Place. He tiptoed towards the stairs, hoping to retreat to his bedroom before anyone noticed him, but a voice called out from the kitchen as he crossed the landing.

"Is that Harry?" James called out. Harry groaned and turned to the kitchen; James and Sirius were seated at the table, chatting over their morning coffee.

"Where have you been, kiddo?" Sirius frowned. "We were worried when you didn't come back from the banquet last night."

"With Daphne," Harry said smoothly (and it wasn't even technically a lie). "I brought her back to her family safe house."

James and Sirius nodded thoughtfully at this. "I've noticed the way you behave around her," said James. "You have handled yourself well, as a proper husband should. I'm proud of you, son."

"Thanks," said Harry. James knew perfectly well that Harry was forced into the union with Daphne, just as he had been with Andromeda. Even Sirius nodded solemnly in agreement...a year ago, he would have teased Harry relentlessly about his new bride, or pried for details into the night's events. It was a testament to their dire circumstances (and to Sirius' growing maturity) that he did not do so now.

Harry did not tell any of his family members about the encounter with Ron. It was odd, carrying on as if all was normal, when he felt as if a momentous shift in the war had just occurred overnight. How badly he wanted to tell them all to cheer up, that the end was in sight! But how could he, when there was so much yet to be done? Even Dahlia had to remain in the dark – Harry did not want to get her hopes up, in case Ron was unable to find Neville for a long while. He knew how much his sister missed the Boy Who Lived, despite (or perhaps because of) the way things had ended between them.

So Harry busied himself, preparing for the next steps in his war plan. The horcruxes were not the only item on his agenda...he wanted to weaken Voldemort as much as possible before the final confrontation. So he continued studying Snape's dossier, learning as much as he could about the Dark Lord's inner circle. Their tendencies, their faults, the crimes they'd committed. Some of the details Snape included about past raids and missions were grisly, making Harry's blood boil with rage.

He had not forgotten the murderous feelings he'd felt the night of the Minister's Ball. He still intended to do good on his promise to himself that night, to not let a single Marked follower survive the war. But why save them all for the final battle? Why not use the time he had between now and then to thin the herd a bit, so to speak? After all, the fewer foot soldiers between him and Voldemort when the time came, the easier his task would become.

Part of Harry felt squeamish about the idea of killing these men and women in cold blood, outside of a battlefield setting. No matter how evil they were, murder was not something he took lightly. But not only were they dangerous allies of Voldemort's, they were also unwitting donors to his magical reserves via their Dark Marks. If Harry eliminated enough of them, that would severely limit the amount of power Voldemort could draw upon in their final confrontation. That was reason enough to not let them live, among many other, more personal reasons. They had made their bed; now they could lie in it.

So he began making a list. He knew he could not take out large swaths of Death Eaters at one time...they would have to be targeted in smaller, precision strikes so that he could get away before Voldemort himself showed up to investigate. He identified the most crucial lieutenants that Voldemort relied upon the most, and also the ones that would be easiest to get to. Harry planned to confer with Fleur as well, to determine what she thought the best course of action was in his plans of bloodshed.

But that could wait for another day. First, he had to share with Fleur everything that had happened over the past week. Shortly after New Year's, his enchanted diary finally glowed again, as she announced her arrival back in Britain. That night, once everyone had gone to bed, Harry snuck out of his room and down to the entryway, where he Apparated to Raven House to meet with her.

Fleur was waiting for him in the living room when he arrived. "Merde, what a week," she sighed as she hugged him in greeting. "Getting through ze Ministry checkpoints to leave Britain was 'orrible."

"They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?" Harry groaned.

"Not after I reminded them who my father is," Fleur said bitterly. "They questioned me for over an hour until I brought 'im up. But oh, I 'ave so much to tell you!"

"Me first," said Harry. "I assume you heard the Grindelwald news?"

"Yes," Fleur frowned. "Everyone on ze continent was celebrating. What do you make of it?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry. "Voldemort has to be behind it somehow...he was looking for the Elder Wand, and the timing can't be coincidental, can it?"

"You do not think Grindelwald told 'im your secrets?" asked Fleur.

"I would have thought so," said Harry. "But it's been a week, and I'm still alive, so surely he didn't, right?"

"I suppose not," Fleur muttered. "I agree, something does not add up."

"That's not all, though," said Harry. "I ran into Ron Weasley on Christmas."

"What?!" Fleur exclaimed. "How? Where?"

Harry explained the situation that unfolded the night of the banquet. Fleur listened with rapt attention, muttering under her breath and shaking her head in disbelief. When Harry reached the part about letting him and Daphne spend the night together, she laughed aloud.

"I always knew zat you were a romantic at heart," Fleur smirked.

"It was the fastest way to calm Ron down and convince him I was telling the truth," Harry defended himself stubbornly. "Besides, I figured he wouldn't get cold feet and try to run away if she was around."

"Mhmm," Fleur hummed, not sounding too convinced. "I am sure it 'ad nothing to do with ze two lovesick teens tugging on your heartstrings."

"Yeah, well...so what if they did?" Harry grumbled. "It's been a miserable few months, and it was nice to see a happy couple together for once."

"It was not an insult, 'Arry," Fleur giggled. "Where is Ronald now?"

"I sent him out to go look for Neville and Hermione," said Harry. "And possibly the resistance movement as well. I'm meeting him again at the Shrieking Shack next Saturday to check on his progress."

"I will come too, then," said Fleur. "Perhaps we can coordinate ze British resistance with the overseas efforts."

"There are overseas efforts?" asked Harry, surprised. "What did you learn in France?"

"My father 'as not been idle," said Fleur. "He 'as been cashing in all of 'is favors to raise awareness about Britain's Dark Lord and build up an army."

"There's an army?!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly excited.

"Not yet," Fleur frowned. "Progress 'as been slow, but Papa is recruiting volunteers and mercenaries for when ze time is right. He also 'elped your Uncle Remus smuggle Muggle-born refugees from Britain to ze continent."

"Remus was helping with the refugees?" said Harry. He hadn't heard from Remus and Alessia in nearly five months, but it suddenly made perfect sense that they would be helping from abroad. It wasn't in their nature to simply run, and of course they couldn't tell the Potters what they were up to, not with Lockhart listening in on every conversation retroactively.

"Yes, but that stopped after ze cliffside incident," said Fleur. "They lost contact with ze resistance movement in Britain after that."

"They're probably lying low to be safe," Harry muttered thoughtfully. "Hopefully Ron can figure out what's happening."

"I also met with Krum," Fleur continued. "He is angered zat his own countrymen do not seem to care about zis new Dark Lord. He is considering boycotting ze upcoming Quidditch season in protest."

"What?!" Harry gasped. "He can't do that! It would jeopardize his whole career!"

"Viktor is a good man," said Fleur. "He knows 'ow important zis war is to our future. And if 'e believes taking a stand will raise ze proper awareness to Britain's plight, 'e will do it."

"Wow," Harry whistled. Some part of him deep down lamented the decision, wishing that the rest of the world could go on as normal, with things like Quidditch still celebrated and enjoyed. It was a dire reminder that the struggle against Voldemort was truly a global one, and once again he admired Krum's commitment to doing the right thing, no matter the personal blow-back he might face.

"Ze Prophet will not be able to ignore it if he does boycott," Fleur pointed out. "Quidditch is too popular in Britain, non? People will ask questions."

"They'll find some way to spin it so Krum looks like a traitor or something," Harry muttered cynically. "But if he is able to convince more people to join the resistance movement, maybe it will be worth it."

"So what do we do in ze meantime?" asked Fleur. "Even if an army is ready to fight, we 'ave not yet made ze Dark Lord vulnerable."

"I've made some progress on that while you were gone," said Harry. He reached into his robes and procured the small black journal Snape had given him, handing it to Fleur. She leafed through it, eyes widening as she realized what it was.

"Mon dieu," she breathed. "Zis is fantastique. What 'ave you learned from it?"

"For starters, that Bellatrix Lestrange was Voldemort's most trusted follower," said Harry. "Even after her death, he does not trust anybody to the same extent as her. Which is why he placed the Cup of Hufflepuff in her vault."

"You are certain of zis?" Fleur frowned. "But how can you know for sure?"

"I might have a few tricks up my sleeve," Harry smirked. He described the ruse he prepared for Bellatrix's spirit when he summoned her with the Resurrection Stone. Fleur could only shake her head in disbelief at this, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'casse-cou'.

"But 'ow does this help us get ze Cup?" she asked. "Ze Lestrange vault is among ze most protected in all of Gringotts."

"I'm still working that bit out," said Harry. "I've asked Amelia to help, and she's going to ask Andromeda what she knows about the Lestrange family finances. If there is a way to gain access to the vault without having to break in, she would know."

"And ze Sword?" Fleur pressed. "You 'ave made progress with that as well?"

"Er...yes and no," said Harry. He flicked his wand and summoned the Sorting Hat to his hand from its hiding place in the kitchen. "I asked Dahlia to try and retrieve it from the Hat, but it refused her. We need to figure a way for a Gryffindor to have legitimate need for the Sword."

"And 'ow do you plan on doing that?"

"Brute force, if we have to," Harry shrugged. "If we run out of time, I can give the Hat to my dad or Sirius and have them try. If I have to tie them up and leave them in a flooding room to trick the Hat into giving up the Sword, I will."

Fleur considered this for a few moments in silence. "It is progress, I suppose," she sighed. "But we still feel so far from our goals. And we are no closer to finding ze snake or Neville."

"They'll work themselves out in the end, I reckon," said Harry. "Voldemort keeps Nagini close by, so we can kill her last. And Ron's looking for Neville as we speak...seriously, Fleur, this is good news! We're closer than ever to ending this war!"

"Do not get cocky," Fleur admonished him. "There is still much work to do yet."

"Obviously," Harry scoffed. "But c'mon, can't we celebrate small victories?"

Harry could not recall feeling so light and optimistic in quite some time...months, maybe years. The holiday had been far more productive than he anticipated, and he finally felt like they were making progress in ending this terrible war. Even Fleur's skepticism could not dampen his excitement, and he insisted on opening a bottle of Firewhiskey and toasting to their change of fortunes. They spent the evening sharing drinks and swapping stories, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

His good mood persisted through the weekend and into the new year, when it soon came time to return to Hogwarts for the winter term. Amelia volunteered to take the teens to King's Cross, ushering them through the barrier to Platform 9 to catch the train. "Quickly, now!" she admonished Damian as he dropped his trunk to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere.

"Goodbye, Auntie Amelia," said Dahlia, giving her a hug goodbye. "I look forward to meeting the little one when we see you next."

Amelia looked surprised by the informal address, but she nonetheless patted Dahlia on the back affectionately. "It'll be a couple of months yet, but I will owl you as soon as it's here," she promised.

"Farewell, Amelia," said Harry, gathering his things and turning to follow his sister and cousin to the train. He paused momentarily, a last-minute idea striking him as he turned back towards Amelia and speaking in an undertone. "Say, can you meet me in Hogsmeade next Saturday night?"

"But it's not a student visiting weekend," Amelia muttered, frowning in confusion.

"I know," said Harry. "At a quarter to midnight, if you're able. It's something important."

Amelia studied his face for a moment, clearly taken aback by the request. "I will...consider it," she said simply.

"I'll be waiting behind the Hog's Head," said Harry. "See you there." And he hurried to board the train before it departed, leaving a stunned Amelia behind. He figured he might as well bring Amelia into the fold when he and Fleur met with Ron. If they were going to coordinate some kind of resistance effort against Voldemort's regime, it wouldn't hurt to have someone high up within the Ministry on their side.

Harry, Dahlia and Damian found a compartment that was empty aside from Luna Lovegood, who brightened at the sight of them. "Oh, hello, Potters!" she beamed. "Did you have a lovely holiday?"

"As a matter of fact, I'd say that we did," said Harry. "How about you, Luna?"

"Can't complain," Luna shrugged. "Father was rather busy, but it was nice to see him. I'm excited to get back to school, even though it's still going to be foggy for a while longer."

"Oh, I dunno about that," said Harry. "If anything, I think the weather ought to be clearer than ever from now on."

"What's got you so chipper all of a sudden?" Dahlia demanded as the train rumbled to life. "It's frankly off-putting."

"Can't a guy be optimistic about the future?" Harry shrugged. "I have a good feeling about this coming term, that's all."

In fact, Harry felt better about the future than he had in a very long time. He could see the finish line now, and his dream of a life without Voldemort seemed more attainable now than it ever had. Pieces were finally falling into place, and people were mobilizing for one last push, one last fight for freedom. Harry felt that the path was finally clear for him to win this war and get his family through in one piece.

If only he knew how quickly his optimism would be snuffed out in a matter of hours.

After a quick train journey and carriage ride up to the castle, Harry found himself back in the Great Hall, as students settled in for the second half of the year. Spirits seemed to be high around the room; the other students had clearly benefited from the time spent with their loved ones back home, away from the Carrows. Despite the circumstances, Harry felt somewhat wistful about the fact that this would be his final term at Hogwarts forever – his home for the past decade.

Headmaster Snape eventually took to the podium to get the students' attention. "Welcome back to the winter term," he said in a droll tone. "Some of you may have noticed a small change in our staff over the break. Professor Firenze will no longer be teaching you Divination."

There was a chorus of disappointed aww's from the students, mainly the girls. Over at the Gryffindor table, Parvati Pail and Lavender Brown exchanged looks of sadness at the news. Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape failed to mention what became of the centaur...had he retired? Returned to the forest? Or had he met a more sinister fate at the hands of sadistic blood purists, who saw him as a 'dirty half-breed' like Fleur?

"In his place, we have recruited a new professor," said Snape. "He comes highly acclaimed from the continent, and will be a more than capable replacement. Please give a hand for Professor Gregor Gorschev."

A man at the other end of the Head Table stood to accept the students' applause. Harry peered at the man from afar; he looked unassuming at first glance, an elderly man with a stooped frame and a scraggly white beard. But for some reason, Harry felt deeply unnerved by the man, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

Then, the man named Gorschev turned to meet his eye. And Harry's heart dropped to his stomach. He knew this man. His appearance may be disguised by a glamour, but there was no disguising that piercing white gaze, that knowing expression that made Harry feel like his very soul was under surveillance. Gorschev winked at him before re-taking his seat.

Gellert Grindelwald was not dead after all. He was here at Hogwarts, throwing all of Harry's hard work and preparation into turmoil. Britain now had a second Dark Lord to reckon with.