Behind the Tapestry

Chapter 1: The Task at Hand

A/N: I've been writing this story since 2007 and it has been previously posted on harrypotterfanfiction.com. I had wanted to post it here originally, but I really wasn't proud of my earlier work. As of now, I've gone back and re-edited my prior writing to try and make it as readable as possible, and I'd really love to hear some feedback from you guys. To clarify, my story follows the series entirely, but excludes the epilogue and begins immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding the plot.

The roof of Hagrid's Hut was engulfed in smoke and partially collapsed under the weight of the crumbled chimney. From where Harry Potter stood, observing the grounds from the window, everything looked smaller, the damage more manageable. It was a feeling in which Harry revelled. He broke his gaze from the little house just in time to see Cho Chang enter Dumbledore's office, emerging from the moving spiral staircase. Ron and Hermione, who were seated in two of the three armchairs within the room, followed Harry's gaze and looked up too.

“Hey, Cho.” Harry greeted wearily. His exhaustion quickly extinguished any awkwardness there would have been. Fifth year seemed so far in the past now.

“Hi Harry. Congratulations about tonight and all.” She paused. “Er- Professor McGonagall has been looking for you. I figured you'd be up here.” She said quietly.

“Thanks Cho, is she in her office?”

“Oh, yeah,” She gave a slight nod. “Well, um, bye Harry.” She said nervously as she turned and walked slowly out of the office, shutting the doors behind her. Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione.

“Maybe you should go talk to her, mate.” Ron suggested. “She looked bloody anxious.”

“She has every right to be! Everyone is!” Hermione protested.

“Not right now, Ron. I have to go.” Harry said quickly, wanting to go find McGonagall.

“You'll be alright, though?” Hermione asked with concern, glancing from Harry to Ron worriedly. “A lot's happened in the last few hours...are you sure you're okay?”

“Hermione, for the first time in my life, I think that we'll all be fine.” Harry replied with a small, reassuring smile. It was obvious that they were all on the verge of collapsing - everyone was emotionally drained and overcome with both victory and grief, and doing anything other sleeping appeared overwhelming.

“No. Not Fred. Not Lupin. Not Tonks. Not all of us.” Ron muttered. He sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands. Hermione put her arm around him.

“You're right, Ron.” Harry said quietly, which caused Ron to look up at him. “We've all been through a lot. We've lost so many people...and, well, that's bound to leave a mark. I'm so sorry.”

Hermione nodded solemnly. “There's nothing we do to stop ourselves from missing them...but, overtime, I think that we'll begin to accept that they're gone. We shouldn't stop living just because they have. They wouldn't want that.”

“I just wasn't ready.” Ron murmured. “I thought we would be really prepared, you know?” he added, glancing between Harry and Hermione.

“But we got through it. We got through it together.” Harry said reassuringly. Ron gave a sad smile and returned his gaze to the floor. “I'll see you guys in a few minutes. Will you wait for me here?” Harry asked.

“Sure, Harry.” Hermione replied. Harry reached across Dumbledore's desk and retrieved his newly repaired wand. The Elder Wand lay beside it, and Harry noticed that he felt no need to possess the Hallow, no want to have complete and unbeatable control. There were so many people, Harry mused, that would die for it. And there were so many people, Harry realized, that had. He toyed with the thought for a few seconds before pocketing his own phoenix-feather wand and heading towards the door.

He turned once he reached the stairs and glanced back at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting quietly beside each other. There was no need for tight embraces or long, encouraging speeches. They had finally reached a point where they merely strived for peace and quiet so they could sink into their own thoughts and stay there until they were ready to face the world.

Harry headed down the spiral staircase, stepping carefully over fallen portraits and avoiding the evident cracks in the stairs. This was a strange and unfamiliar Hogwarts, and through the victory, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of defeat that had seemingly settled around him.

When he reached the bottom, Harry saw Cho slowly turn the corner at the end of the corridor. Harry knew he should call her back and explain. But this was something he couldn't do. At least right now. This was not the time, nor the place. There were many wounds of greater severity that needed mending.

Making his way over fallen suits of armour and crumbled gargoyles, Harry passed through floor after floor of the broken school, feeling both worshipped and hated. There was no emotion that could describe the current events, so Harry gave up and let the whirlwind of confusing feelings run its course. He arrived at the door to McGonagall's office sooner than he expected. The entrance was battered up and several curses had blatantly left marks upon the once smooth, oak surface. He knocked lightly, as if to not cause it any further damage.

“Enter.” McGonagall's voice was faint and muffled by the door. Harry gingerly stepped inside.

“Yes, Professor? Cho Chang said you wanted to see me.”

She nodded. “Harry, I would like to congratulate you on an excellent job tonight. There is no doubt that your actions have shown true, courageous Gryffindor spirit. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would have been proud.” She paused. “It's been a long night, but before you retire, I have a few questions.”

“Yes, Professor?” Harry asked again.

“People have been searching quite a while now for the body of Professor Snape. I'm under the impression that you may know his location.”

“He's in the Shrieking Shack. That's where he died, Professor.” Harry replied quietly. He still couldn't understand if he was supposed to be grieving or celebrating the loss of Snape. He had tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault - though he and Hermione could have attempted to save Snape's life, the both of them had still thought him to be on the Dark side at that time. It wasn't until after that Harry had realized his true allegiances, and then it was too late. He was shaken from his reverie when the professor spoke again.

“That is not the only reason I called you here, Harry.” McGonagall said slowly. “Did Professor Snape happen to give you anything before he died tonight?” she asked. Harry could tell she was struggling for composure.

“Yes, Professor. He gave me some of his memories from when he was younger. And yes, I have watched them...but I didn't really find anything significant other than the fact that he...” Harry broke off, not wanting to go into detail about Snape's love for his mother.

McGonagall waved off Harry's unfinished sentence. “So there wasn't anything in the memories that singled out a certain place in the castle, or anything of that sort?” she asked anxiously.

“No, not that I can think of. I'm really sorry Professor, but I don't understand what you're saying.” Harry said. McGonagall suddenly looked very old, the gash upon her face deepening within her wrinkles.

“Harry, before Professor Dumbledore died, he wanted me to keep an eye on Professor Snape. To see if he left any clues or dropped any hints about this.”

“But Professor, what is `this'?!” Harry asked impatiently.

“Dumbledore himself said that even if Severus didn't know it exactly, something he had or some of his knowledge could inform us further.” She explained.

“Inform us about what, Professor?”

“Albus reckoned that something in this castle belongs to you.” McGonagall said, almost whispering. She looked exhausted and drained, and Harry's heart went out to her. She'd done so much to benefit Hogwarts and she had always seemed so strong; it pained him to see her so worn out and elderly.

“What? But, Professor, how is that possible? What do you mean `belongs to me'?”

“Have you even touched your copy of Hogwarts, a History, Harry? On page 286 it clearly states that if a location in the castle is located by a student that the current Headmaster did not know about, it becomes their personal possession. When your parents were young, the apparently stumbled across a location in the castle that was not known about at the present time. Therefore, seeing as they are gone, this possession has been passed onto you.” McGonagall said with a slight smile. It was odd, Harry thought, to see someone smile. Especially at a time like this.

“But how are you supposed to figure this out?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.

“Not me, Harry. You. Seeing as you own it, it is now your responsibility. And considering the circumstances, I give you full permission to search the castle to figure this out.”

Harry was exhilarated. There was something in Hogwarts that actually belonged to him! Something that was connected to his parents! Harry could feel his heart pounding against his ribs in excitement. He had reached the point of exhaustion where he was nearly out of control.

“Thank you, Potter. You may go.” McGonagall motioned towards the door.

“Goodnight Professor.” Harry said with a slight grin. As he grasped for the doorknob and turned away from the office, he was mentally kicking himself. There was a small voice inside his head, lecturing him.

“You've finally gone mad, Potter. You, happy at a time like this?”

Closing the door behind him, Harry headed down the corridor to go back to the Headmaster's office. At the next turn he made, he saw the familiar figure of Ginny walking down the passage towards him, her features bathed in the moonlight flooding in through the cracks in the walls. Harry could see that she was silently crying, and when she noticed his presence, she attempted to quickly wipe away the tears.

“It's over, Harry.” She said softly as she approached him.

“Yeah, it is.” He replied. “For good.” It had just hit him. No longer would he have to look into Voldemort's mind. No longer would he have to search for Horcruxes. It was over. He noticed that her eyes were rimmed with red. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern. She nodded immediately, as if trying to reassure herself that she was fine. The loss of Fred and the others was obviously taking a toll on everyone.

“Ginny, I…” He broke off.

“Its okay, Harry.” And she looked at him with pure understanding. Harry gave a sad smile. There was so much he wanted to say her. But he couldn't.

“Let's go see Ron and Hermione. I have something I need to tell all of you.” Ginny grabbed Harry's hand as they began to walk, and Harry couldn't help but notice that something felt off. Holding her hand after all this time just felt...awkward.

*

When they arrived back at the Headmaster's office, Harry recounted his story of what McGonagall had told him.

“There's something they left behind for me! Something I'm supposed to find!” Harry was beaming broadly. He felt a heavy pang of guilt at his happiness - he should be crying and mourning and overcome with grief. But he wasn't - and he was ashamed. Despite his inner struggles, Harry's excitement paired with his exhaustion caused a burst of energy to surge through him. He glanced around at them. Hermione, Ron and Ginny looked both nervous and pleased, albeit undeniably tired. They understood Harry's excitement. They knew how much this meant to him, which he was thankful for. Hermione looked nearly as excited as Harry.

“Harry, you don't think Snape left any clues in his office?” It was random and farfetched, but stranger things had happened.

“It's possible.” Harry agreed.

Harry smiled. Maybe Snape had left him a clue. If it was anywhere, it'd probably be there. Maybe it wasn't going to be like another search for Horcruxes.

“We should start looking soon, yeah?” Ron added.

“Although we do go home in a couple days.” Hermione reasoned. “We'll have time to look when we come back as well.” Their excited chatter faded into nothingness and soon the room settled into a sombre silence. The weight of recent events was pressing and overwhelming, and the grief coupled seamlessly with the celebratory mood that was evident within everyone's relief. Voldemort was gone, as were many loved ones. It was a difficult time, and they could all sense it. But things were going to get better. It was decided.

They all stood and walked through the broken castle to the portrait of the Fat Lady, anticipating a long, long rest.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please review. The majority of this story is written, so I will try and post a new chapter every week or so. Thanks!

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Chapter Two: New Discoveries

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and thank you to all who left a review, I really appreciate your support. I can also promise that this story will improve, as it seems to get off to a bit of a rough start. Here's chapter two!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding the plot.

“Harry. Harry! Come on, wake up mate!” Two warm hands were roughly shaking Harry out of his slumber, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Do you take pride in dislocating my shoulders, Ron?” Harry said in a muffled voice, pulling the covers up over his head.

“Sorry, but I really want to get to breakfast and I didn't want to leave you here, or go alone, for that matter.” Ron said, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“Okay, fine, I'm up. Just give me a minute.” Harry mumbled as he slowly swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. “What time is it anyway?” he asked.

“You pretty much slept a whole day. That's not saying I didn't either, though. So, really it's half-eight in the morning all over again.” Ron said, stepping towards the door, trying to encourage Harry to follow him.

Harry yawned. Despite his whole day of sleeping, he was still exhausted. It was a different type of exhaustion, however. Innocent people had died, yet everyone kept telling him that he had won, that they had won. If this was what victory felt like, Harry didn't want any part of it. He was filled with such emptiness, such regret. If he had just found the Horcruxes sooner...if he had succeeded sooner, maybe some people would still be alive. Maybe the pain wouldn't be as harsh, the damage as deep. Harry had been under so much pressure, he had received so much criticism over the past few years and now...now he was tired. Harry shook his head as if to rid the thoughts from his mind. He pulled his robes over his head and joined Ron. They headed down to the common room and found Ginny sitting there, along with Hermione.

“Hey, Harry. Sleep well?” asked Hermione.

“Better than ever, thanks.” He replied, rubbing his eyes. Regardless of how he was feeling, Harry didn't want to worry her with his internal struggles. They'd all worried enough these past few years.

“Morning, Ron. Are you okay? You look pale.” Hermione asked.

“I need food. Really, I do.” Ron answered feverishly, gazing at the portrait hole longingly.

“Some things never change.” Hermione muttered under her breath.

Harry joined Ginny and Hermione on the couch as they agreed that they would meet Ron in the Great Hall in a few minutes. The three of them sat quietly for a moment. There was grief in the air, but Harry felt that the loss of Fred, Lupin and Tonks seemed to be outdone by the defeat of Voldemort. It was puzzling - should they be mourning or celebrating? Harry knew that balance was key; those who had died...they could never come back. But Voldemort couldn't either. It was a dark, sombre happiness, and as the minutes grew longer, Harry began to despise the feeling. Eventually hunger took over.

“Can we, er, go get some food now?” Ginny asked hopefully.

“Weasleys.” Harry added, shaking his head. He had noticed that both Ginny and Ron had seemed rather cheerful, and it bothered him. They should be grieving, they should feel hopeless. He knew that when reality hit them all, it would be a struggle. He feared that they would all keep their feelings inside - from experience, Harry knew that isolating yourself from the sadness only made things darker. Despite this, he realized that he was being completely hypocritical. Waking from this reverie, Harry stood and followed Ginny and Hermione out of the portrait hole.

When they reached the main corridor off of Gryffindor Tower, they realized nothing had changed. There were still fallen statues and smashed banisters. The cracks in the walls allowed some sunlight to seep through, illuminating the passage in a light haze. Together, they managed to work their way down through the castle, carefully stepping over the debris. Once they arrived on the lower floors of Hogwarts, their task became much more of a struggle because of Professor Trelawney's shattered crystal balls.

After a difficult journey, the three of them finally came to a halt at the base of the Grand Staircase. The doors of the Great Hall were spread wide, offering a clear view of most of its occupants.

“Why don't you go ahead, Ginny? I'm sure your family will want to see you.” Hermione suggested, after seeing Ron and Mrs. Weasley sitting quietly in a corner.

“Are you ready, Harry?” Hermione asked with concern as she turned to look at him. Harry was now considered to be the saviour of the wizarding world, and the reaction that they had to his presence was bound to be overwhelming.

“Let's just get this over with.” Harry said with a sigh, trying to keep his emotions in check, to stop his nerves from consuming him entirely.

They entered the Hall, not quite sure what to expect. The second he was seen, the remaining Gryffindors started to cheer and clap at an unnecessary volume. Harry flushed brilliantly as he quickly made his way to sit down, followed by Hermione. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that had stayed behind to fight were applauding as well, and even, to his surprise, the majority of Slytherin house was congratulating him. All eyes were on them as they took a seat at the long Gryffindor table.

The cheering and clapping faded slowly into the previous chatter, after much praise. Hermione turned to face Harry, only to see that he was looking somewhere across the room. She followed his gaze and noticed that he was staring at the group of huddled Weasleys.

“It's my entire fault.” He said quietly. “I should've...I could've...” Harry paused and gathered his thoughts, trying to swallow his guilt. “There was so much I could have done. I'm the reason all these families are torn up!”

“Harry, stop it! You're not!” Hermione said, a hint of pleading in her voice.

“Yes, I am Hermione. I caused them to suffer. I brought this loss upon them! Voldemort was mine to destroy and I took my own sweet time doing it. People were dying while I was failing miserably. How can it not be my fault?!” he cried, his emerald eyes flaring up. A few curious gazes were fixed upon him. He shook his head solemnly and covered his face with his hands.

“You've done absolutely nothing wrong, Harry. We all tried the best we could, and we succeeded. Trust me!” She tried to reassure him, though her eyes were welling with tears. Harry was broken, and it killed her. “No one blames you!”

“I wish they would.”

“You can gain nothing from guilt. Stop, Harry! Just...just stop.” She wiped furiously at her eyes.

Harry absorbed her words as his only known comfort. He didn't have his parents to run to, didn't have Sirius for advice. He had his friends, and they were there, they wanted to help. Harry looked up at her.

“I'm sorry.” He said. Hermione gave him a sad smile. They both turned towards the front of the hall when they heard Professor McGonagall begin to speak.

“May I have your attention please.” She called throughout the hall, surveying the crowd. “These last few days have been traumatizing for all for us. We have all lost loved ones-” With that, Mrs. Weasley sobbed loudly. “And Hogwarts itself almost came to an end. If each and every one of you hadn't been here to help, I'm sure many of us wouldn't be here to tell the tale.” She paused and looked around, her eyes meeting Harry's. “Thank you. The Hogwarts Express will be arriving at Hogsmeade station in 2 days time. Please spend the next while getting organized and settling important matters. But now, you cannot do this on an empty stomach, and the kitchen staff has kindly offered to prepare our meals. If you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to come and ask me for assistance.” she finished. She waved her arms and the tables creaked under the weight of the platters and platters of food.

After the Hall broke out into conversation, Ron came over to sit with Harry and Hermione.

“Alright, I've been thinking about this all night. McGonagall is only giving us two days to figure out this secret, so we'll have to work fast. I'm suggesting that we set to work right after breakfast.” Hermione said, looking first to Ron and then to Harry.

“Great idea.” said Ron, his mouth full.

“Hermione, that's it!” Harry exclaimed. “You want to take your N.E.W.T.s don't you?”

“Well, yes of course, but-”

Harry cut her off. “Why don't we ask McGonagall if we can come back next year? I mean, I know we've all been planning on coming back for a little while, but why don't we stay for the whole year?” he suggested.

*

The three of them sat around McGonagall's desk, waiting for her reply.

“Well, I don't see why not. N.E.W.T.s are extremely beneficial and are often vital qualifications for many occupations. Although I do feel that you three will have no trouble finding a job, I do think that completing your education is a very intelligent thing to do. I'll be looking forward to seeing you all next year.” McGonagall reached across her desk and began rifling through some letters.

“That's it?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“Yes, that is all. It's given me an idea as well.” She paused, her sharp features softening slightly. “Oh and by the way, Mr. Weasley, your father has been asked to help supervise the reconstruction of Hogwarts this week, so I see no harm in allowing you three to stay a little longer to figure things out. That is, if you would like to, of course.” She gave a small smile before shooing them out. “I've got work to do now.”

“Why did that seem really easy?” Ron asked, as the trio walked slowly down the empty corridor.

“I really don't know.” Hermione answered, just as confused. “But let's not waste any time. I suggest we start in Snape's office.”

*

When they reached the dungeon corridor, Harry entered first. It looked as it always did. The cold cauldrons on the tables, Snape's desk neatly stacked with unmarked papers. A filing cabinet stood plainly behind the desk, cobwebs strewn across it. All that was missing was, well, Snape.

Snape. Harry thought. Harry had actually started to feel sorry for him. Now that he knew his past, everything seemed different. What would have become of their relationship if Snape had lived? Would he have treated Harry any differently? Harry doubted it.

He snapped back to reality as he heard Hermione cast Alohamora on the filing cabinet. She jumped back as all of the drawers flew open.

“I've decided that the most logical thing to do would be to check in here. He wouldn't have left us a trail of clues. He probably didn't even know that we'd try to find it. Because of this, we shouldn't go looking for Harry's file either. Any information we can make use of will probably be within the files of Lupin, Sirius, Peter and Harry's father. It just makes more sense. If there's any clue we need in here, it's been here for a while. We know for a fact that it was most likely James who found this place, whatever it is.”

For the next quarter of an hour, they all searched.

“Found Lupin.” called Ron. He placed the file on the table and opened it. “These must be from before Snape's time.” He said, blowing dust off some papers.

“Of course, Ron.” Said Hermione dramatically. “Snape went to school with them. These are from an older potions teacher.”

All of the papers were about his detentions and bad behaviour, but the last few pages were notes in a loose, scrawling cursive.

“Away from class every full moon.” Ron read. “Is with bad crowd. (Potter, Black, Pettigrew.)” Harry couldn't help but smile to himself.

“Nothing.” said Ron disappointedly.

“Don't give up yet.” Hermione said hopefully, eyeing Harry's slight frustration. “There's still more.”

A few minutes later, Harry found Sirius'. It was the strikingly similar to Lupin's except for a paper about halfway through.

“Always at back of library. Something suspicious about him and Potter.” wrote the same scrawl.

“Back of the library...” Hermione muttered. She paused. “This is it! Come on!” Hermione exclaimed. Harry and Ron followed her, out of breath.

“What's it?” Ron asked.

“Just come!” she added impatiently.

*

The library was deserted, and lucky for Hermione, hardly damaged. The usually crackling fire was cold, yet the library still looked inviting with the big plush armchairs, some books stacked upon the cushions.

Not stopping until they reached the Restricted Section, Hermione slowly pushed open the thin metal gate. Continuing on, they eventually reached the back, where 4 tapestries hung on the cold, stone wall, the symbols of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin all fading upon them.

Harry and Ron stood back and observed them, as if acknowledging their presence for the first time, while Hermione walked along the wall, feeling it for something unusual. She stopped in front of the Gryffindor tapestry.

“Here!” she finally exclaimed.

“What?” asked Harry, suddenly excited.

“There's something here Harry! I've read some books saying that rooms are often disguised like this. Behind a tapestry, for instance. It's probably hidden unless you have a key or something.”

“But we don't have a key, Hermione.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, but it was left for you! Wouldn't it make itself visible to its owner?” Ron spoke up.

Harry walked up to the tapestry of Gryffindor and lifted it up. A small metal plaque was bolted to the wall. It looked well worn. Two symbols were indented upon the surface next to a keyhole. An oval and a heart.

An oval and a heart. Harry thought to himself. He ran his fingers along the plaque, searching for something, anything that may provide an entrance. Then it came to him. He placed his thumb in the oval; right away he knew it had worked. The plaque burned white-hot and Harry quickly withdrew his hand. Ron gasped and Hermione jumped back as the small metal rectangle stretched larger and larger across the wall until it became a small door and sprouted a doorknob. They stood in a stunned silence for a moment, not knowing what to do or say.

“Harry! Go!” Hermione whispered.

Subconsciously, Harry twisted the knob and pulled it open. A thin passage showed itself in front of him. Harry turned around. Ron looked nervously at him and then followed. Hermione remained outside, wanting to be sure of what was ahead before entering. Harry stepped up and ducked through the door, with Ron following closely behind.

The passage ended and Ron took a sharp intake of breath. A deep scarlet room awaited them. It was dusty and faded, but still spectacular. A plush couch covered in gold-seamed cushions sat opposite a big canopy bed enrobed in red velvet. A dead fire was at the other end of the room, untouched. Harry shivered, out of both cold and anxiety. The room was ghostly and brilliant. It had not known heat for many years, and a chilled quiet hung before them in the thin air.

“Ron…” Harry paused. “You...you don't think this might have been…”

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'd really appreciate it if you left a review. I know that the story may seem a little bit fast-paced at the moment, but bear with me, it does get better. Thanks for reading, and I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible!

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Chapter Three: The Third Door

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding the plot.

“Ron...'' Harry paused, uncertain. “You...you don't think this might have been…”

“Gryffindor's...” Ron whispered, and his voice trailed off, leaving an awestruck silence between the two.

“Gryffindor's private quarters.” Harry finished quietly, finding himself in both a state of shock and bewilderment. It...it couldn't be. He couldn't own this.

Ron whistled appreciatively as he pointed a finger at the wide, faded burgundy banner that was strewn across own of the stone walls. “Godric Gryffindor” was sewn upon it in rich, gold embroidery, and to Harry and Ron, it had begun to make perfect sense.

They explored the room, unfocused because of their discovery and wavering with excitement. Tapestries of the Gryffindor crest hung from the low ceiling and fell between sun-bleached wall sconces that were once a brilliant gold. The yellowed, fragile windows climbed all the way up the wall, and fell to meet the top of each sconce. The light they provided was smattered in thin, weak rays, and Harry felt that the sun must have aged along with the room. Adjacent to the entrance, there was a large oak desk with a few shuffled stacks of loose papers and an assortment of picture frames and trinkets.

“Harry, look at this!” Ron had walked up to the desk, and was quickly looking over what was visible to him. Looking at what Ron was indicating, Harry noticed that a large collection of photographs cluttered the surface. There were multiple pictures of Lupin, Pettigrew, James and Sirius all together with broad grins. The one Harry liked the most was one of his father and Sirius, sitting under the tree by the lake and laughing hysterically, totally carefree. They looked as if they were 5^th years, and Harry was envious of them for having no looming danger, no approaching darkness.

Harry gave a small smile and revelled in the comfortable silence that settled. He and Ron continued to explore the unfamiliar territory, letting everything sink in. A few minutes later, Ron broke the silence.

“You know, they all must've hung out in here, Harry. Why else would these pictures be here?”

Harry nodded absent-mindedly, but he wasn't listening. He had his back to Ron, a small velvet box in his hand.

“Harry?”

Ron walked around Harry so he was facing him, and he noticed the open box. There was a small golden locket was dangling off of Harry's fingers, and he was reading a little piece of parchment that had been folded neatly within. Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder to read it too.

Take this locket as a promise

And treasure it forever

For one day soon

Whether you like it

Or not,

We will be together.

- James

“What is it, Harry?”

Harry spoke quietly, as if to convince himself that the words he said were actually true. “It was a letter. From my dad...to my mum, I think.”

The writing was scratchy, similar to Harry's, and Ron was glad to see that his friend had cracked a small smile. But Ron never saw the slim tear that spilled from Harry's eyes, for it was wiped it away faster than it arrived. Harry quickly pocketed the locket as he heard footsteps approaching.

“What's taking so long?” Hermione asked, appearing at the door. She looked both worried and curious, and the second her eyes adjusted to the light, she gasped.

“Harry...this isn't...it's can't be!” she exclaimed, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that had fallen upon the room.

“Oh, but it is!” Ron said with a grin. He and Hermione began talking excitedly about their new findings, totally oblivious the fact that Harry had left the room quietly, closing the door behind him without a sound.

“Where's Harry?” Harry heard Hermione ask for him as he made his way out of the Restricted Section. He mulled everything over in his head. He owned Gryffindor's private quarters. How was that possible? The thought was puzzling, yet utterly amazing. But what he liked most was the feeling he had when he found out that his parents had been there, just them and their friends. Harry had felt them there, their presence. It felt like home, although it was a hollow, material substitution, he knew. It was a feeling that neither Ron nor Hermione could ever understand.

When Harry arrived back to the common room, a thought struck him. Ginny had gotten nothing from Harry except loss and panic and darkness. Now that the war was over, Harry could tell that Ginny expected them to pick up from where they left off. He figured that he should give her something, almost like an apology, for leaving her there and for putting everyone in danger. Harry had the locket now. He could easily give it her. He probably should give it to her. Harry hated that he felt obliged to do these things. It was expected though, wasn't it?

He made a decision, and for the moment being, placed the box with the locket within his trunk, beneath some socks. In Harry's opinion, things were safest within his trunk, beneath some socks. Then he could forget about them, just walk away from them.

*

It didn't take long for Ron and Hermione to arrive back to the common room. Hermione eyed Harry anxiously, as she had realized that he had left without warning. He gave a slight nod to reassure her, to put her mind at ease. He was fine.

Ron suggested that they all head down for supper as it was getting late, and he, being a Weasley, needed nourishment. They agreed, and walked cautiously through the castle to the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione had decided to keep things quiet about Gryffindor's quarters to everyone except Ginny. She sat with them as they ate and they spoke in low whispers, describing what they saw.

“I need to see this!” she whispered, astonished. “I find it hard to believe.”

“Fine. After dinner, Harry, Ron and I will show you. But you mustn't tell anyone!” Hermione stressed.

*

Ginny was equally amazed. They showed her the desk with the pictures and the memories. There was an assortment of Quidditch posters and memorabilia that Ginny was particularly enthusiastic about, which Harry agreed she could have even though it pained him inside. The things in the room had belonged to his parents, and he was reluctant to give it away so freely. He knew he was being selfish, but this was something different. The delicate sunlight was being inconsistent, and before long, it flickered out completely, the darkness of night dominating. Ginny suggested that they retire for the night, and the four of them entered the Gryffindor Common Room through the door leading off of Gryffindor's quarters.

“I'll see you three in the morning.” Ginny gave a small wave as she yawned, and made her way up to the Girl's Dormitory.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all gathered in the squashy armchairs positioned around the fireplace. The house elves had managed to reconstruct the common rooms, but the rest of the castle that needed serious repair would need to wait until the summer.

“Harry, this is brilliant!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Why? I mean, the fact that we found Gryffindor's chamber is astounding, and I agree, it's amazing, but what's so brilliant?” Harry asked, slightly puzzled.

“Think about it, Harry. Your father and his friends were known for having a reputation. They were mischievous, they were trouble-makers. I don't think they were just using Gryffindor's quarters as a hideout. They were going behind those doors.”

“What doors?” Ron asked.

“Didn't you look at anything? There are three doors leading off of the room; one beside the bed, one beside the desk and one beside the couch.” Hermione explained.

“Well, what's behind them?” Harry asked, befuddled.

“I wouldn't know, but there's no harm in investigating, is there?” Hermione paused and thought for a moment. “I say we should check them out tomorrow. Figure out why they liked it so much. I'm positive it wasn't just a clubhouse. Besides, all of the students will be gone - we don't run the risk of getting caught.” Harry and Ron nodded. Leave it to Hermione to always be the logical one.

The next day brought chaos. Trunks were zipping about the corridors on their way to the Entrance Hall; students were rushing, packing and shoving food into their mouths. Hogwarts seemed so usual, so normal. It was odd, however, as it was anything but that. The Hogwarts Express had been waiting for a half hour until everyone was boarded. Just as the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron all awoke from peaceful sleeps to find themselves in a student-less castle.

“Perfect.” Hermione whispered to herself as she looked around the Entrance Hall. It was empty, except for the builders scanning over plans and consulting with each other. “Okay, let's go.”

*

Harry was pleased to find that the room opened the same way as it had before. He stepped in first, followed by Ron, then Hermione and Ginny. Sure enough, there were three doors placed around the room, exactly where Hermione had said.

They decided to investigate the door by the bed first. It was shorter than the canopy bed itself, and was rather narrow as well. Its oak surface was scarred because of past recklessness or overuse. Harry twisted the worn, coppery doorknob and peered inside, Hermione, Ron and Ginny following his lead.

“Well its logical isn't it?” Hermione asked herself, almost embarrassed by her foolishness. “Of course Gryffindor would have a door leading to the Gryffindor Common Room!”

“Odd, I never noticed a door leading off of the common room.” Ginny stated.

“Maybe it only works if you come through this way.” Ron offered. They all agreed with Ron's statement, as it did, surprisingly, make sense.

They migrated over to second door by the desk, and Harry observed it curiously. This door, as well, was very narrow, but also spanned the whole way from the floor to the ceiling. It was wooden, as the first had been, but was very decorative and carved with intricate swirls and patterns.

“Open it Harry.” Ron urged, looking hopeful.

Harry pushed it open. They entered to find a slightly smaller room full of portraits and trophy cases. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling held a small amount of lit candles, and the flickering illumination danced haphazardly over the gold and silver objects that filled the room. Despite this, the space remained dimly lit, and Harry had to squint to see everything.

“Isn't this the trophy room?” Ron asked.

“You should know, Ron, you spent three hours coughing up slugs over everything in here.” Harry grinned. Ginny snorted.

“Don't remind me.” said Ron with a wince. Hermione had walked over to a door and pushed it open.

“Yes, this is definitely the trophy room. The Great Hall's just through here.” She said, answering Ron. They looked around a bit, Harry's eyes straying to the plaque with his father's name on it, then to the one a little ways away with his. Not wanting to waste time, they returned to the primary chamber and took in their surroundings.

“Okay. Gryffindor Common Room, Trophy Room and…what's there?” Ginny asked, pointing to the last door.

“We'll just have to find out, won't we?” Hermione replied.

Harry opened the last door cautiously, not knowing what to expect. This door was normal-sized, made of a plain dark wood, and looked much too simple. He was greeted with a sudden burst of thick, black smoke, which he struggled to wave away, coughing violently. Hermione grimaced at the smell of multiple things burning at once.

“Wait a second! This is the Room of Requirement!” Ron exclaimed.

“That Fiendfyre must've destroyed its magical abilities.” Hermione reasoned.

“But...but why? Why is this here?”

Harry's question remained unanswered and Hermione, Ron and Ginny watched with looks of confusion as Harry went wandering in by himself. As he ventured further within, he looked around. Heaps of ash surrounded him threateningly, absorbing his oxygen, attempting a cruel form of asphyxiation.

He cast a Lumos to break through the darkness that the soot provided, and his eyes instantly fell upon the last object remaining intact throughout the rows and rows of debris. “Vanishing Cabinet.” Harry thought. “It's indestructible.” He walked over to it and brushed his fingers along the smooth, oak surface. Its intricate designs were singed, but its contents were still solid. Peering through the blackened glass, he recognized nothing other than his old potions book. Snape's old potions book. It had been there since his 6^th year. “Why didn't it vanish?” Harry wondered. He slowly pulled open the wooden door and attempted to retrieve it.

Reaching his hand in, his arm brushed against the shelf.

“Oh no.” Harry thought to himself, mentally kicking himself for his carelessness. And then, everything started to spin.

*

“Harry?” Ginny called. Ginny, Hermione and Ron had ventured in after Harry, the charred remains sticking to their clothes. “Harry?!” They were frightened now. Where was he?

It wasn't until the ever-smart Hermione noticed something unusual that they came to a conclusion. The cabinet was expelling a red glow, shining brighter and brighter each time.

“He vanished?” Ginny squeaked.

“Definitely.” Hermione confirmed.

“But didn't the Ministry remove the twin cabinet from Borgin and Burkes after it was used to smuggle in Death Eaters into the castle?” Ron asked, on the edge of hysterics.

“Exactly. That's why Harry's at the Ministry.”

A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please remember to leave a review!

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Chapter Four: Escaping and Breaking

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding the plot.

Harry landed with a spin on a large dais of cold, hard rock. Its rugged formation dug into his legs, and he struggled to stand. Looking around, he realized he was at the Ministry of Magic. And, to Harry's understanding, in the Department of Mysteries, no less. The room was deserted and cold, and as the unwanted memories flooded back into Harry's mind, he wanted nothing more than to leave. When you leave, Harry decided, you forget.

It was dim, yet the small windows on the high ceilings were distributing pools of light within the dips of the uneven ground. The slanted walls and thin air brought no comfort to the lost and disoriented Harry Potter.

Harry sighed. He flung open the cabinet door again and attempted to transport himself back to Hogwarts again, without success. With clenched fists, Harry turned and surveyed the rest of the room. To his horror, he found he was standing in none other than the room he remembered so clearly from his fifth year. Adjacent to the cabinet, on the other side of the platform, sat a large stone archway, a thin, gray shadow strewn between its two columns.

“The veil.” Harry whispered. “Sirius.” He had grown numb to any mention of his godfather. He had tried to forget what it felt like to be so close to someone that will never come back, that will never be part of your life again. Sirius was there, behind the Veil, Harry knew. But there was no way, he reminded himself. No way. It was too hard for Harry to stand within the room; it was too hard for Harry to struggle with the weight of a thousand lost memories, to breathe through the suddenly thickening air.

He gazed around the room, his eyes not really focused, and his mind not really awake. He noticed a door, and then proceeded to walk briskly toward it. He had to leave. He grasped for the doorknob, and then he suddenly decided that going out there was against his better judgement. This was the Ministry of Magic, and he was Harry Potter. The war had just ended, and Voldemort had just been defeated, because of him. He turned back slowly, approaching the cabinet. He stood and thought for a moment, his thoughts mixing with his sadness, his loss, until he was struck with an idea.

“Expecto Patronum!” he exclaimed. His pristine silvery stag shot out of his wand and began galloping around the room. He directed it back towards where he stood until the creature was looking back at him, head tilted inquisitively, and said aloud,

“I'm in the Department of Mysteries. Come and get me. Please!” He sent his Patronus off to find Hermione, Ron and Ginny and prayed that it would still be intact when it arrived to them.

*

Hermione and Ron scanned the room feverishly, hoping they had made a mistake and that Harry was, in fact, still within the walls of Hogwarts. Ginny had fled the room moments earlier to find, with Hermione's persuasion, a book on vanishing cabinets.

“He's definitely vanished.” Hermione clarified. “And definitely at the Ministry.”

“How're we going to get him back?” Ron asked nervously.

“We'll have to vanish too, I guess. Maybe then we could figure something out together.” Hermione suggested.

“It's worth a try.” Ron agreed.

Moments later, Ginny came rushing back into the room, her quick footsteps echoing an anxious rhythm. She was without a book, but she spoke urgently.

“Harry….stag!” she panted. She pointed behind her, indicating the brilliant Patronus that cantered into the room.

“I'm in the Department of Mysteries. Come and get me. Please!” Harry's voice proclaimed. The stag disappeared in a cloud of mist, leaving Ron, Hermione and Ginny to sprint to the cabinet, fling open the doors and grab onto the shelves. They all spun out of view, and in mere seconds, they were standing in the middle of the Department of Mysteries. Harry stood a few feet away from them, wand out.

“Good! You got my Patronus!” he exclaimed. Hermione came rushing forwards and hugged him, her relief at his safety evident.

“Harry! Oh, thank goodness you're alright! We were so worried!”

Harry nodded at her reassuringly before he continued. “I can't seem to find a way out. Any ideas?” he asked hopefully. “I would have just gone through the door, but I don't think that's such a good idea, with the press and all.”

Hermione began scanning the room for an escape route, while Ron was trying to figure out why the cabinet wouldn't work reciprocally. Ginny flung her arms around Harry possessively and he almost lost his balance.

“Ginny...Ginny, I'm fine. Really!” Harry exclaimed.

“I know! Thank Merlin! I mean, imagine what would happen to me if I lost Harry Potter!” Ginny clapped her hand to her mouth as soon as the words rolled off her tongue. Harry instantly released her and walked away, his expression cold. He looked over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione who were examining the Veil cautiously.

“Is that what your sister thinks of me, Ron?” Harry said vehemently.

“What?” asked Ron, confused.

“She only likes me because I'm Harry Potter? That's it?”

“Well, Ginny is a bit selfish, but...you know, she's my sister...”

Harry waved off Ron's comment and stormed back over to where Ginny was standing, blushing furiously.

“I was going to give you my mum's old locket, you know. To show you how much I thought you meant to me. But now, how can I be sure? I mean, do you like Harry or Harry Potter? Do you like me or the fame? What is it?”

“I...I don't know, Harry. I...” Ginny stuttered.

“If you're that unsure of it, then I think I'll take it that you're a Harry Potter fan, not my friend.” Harry said, his voice quiet. With that, he walked away and opened the door leading out to the main part of the Ministry. Were the situation be anything else, Harry would have been relieved that the corridors were empty. Given the circumstances, however, he left all previous cautions behind him and passed door after door until he arrived at the lift.

“Harry!” he heard Hermione calling after him. He glanced at her and held her concerned gaze until she caught up to him. She stood and steadied her breathing as they waited for the lift.

“This isn't safe!” she exclaimed.

“I know, but I'd rather be on the front cover of every newspaper in London then be in the same room as her. She tricked me, made me think that she loved me, when all she wanted was fame and fortune. How can I be sure it won't happen again? I'm so foolish.” Harry said quietly, looking at his feet.

The lift beeped and a voice announced their location. The metal grate slid open slowly, allowing them entry. As they stepped on, Harry cast his Patronus and sent a message to Ron.

“Stay there. We'll reverse the cabinet function once we can Apparate back to Hogwarts.”

“Good thinking, Harry.” Hermione commented. “The wards should still be down, so it shouldn't be too difficult to get back to the castle.”

The doors closed and the lift moved backwards before shooting upwards towards the main level.

“Hermione, before you guys came, I heard voices coming from the veil. Except this time, I actually understood what they were saying.” Harry stated.

“And?” she asked him, encouraging him to continue.

“They said that someone had repaired my prophecy, and that it now bore a new message. That I needed to retrieve it and bring it to the Hall of Prophecy before someone else gets a hold of it.

“Did they say where it was?” Hermione asked him; she looked as if she were taking mental notes. Harry concluded that she probably was.

“I remember the last part:

Beyond our protection

Your prophecy lies

Along with a loved-one

Close your eyes

Entrance may burn

But beneath our walls

A secret lurks

Your future nears

Defence is needed

Yet open your ears

Hearing before sight

Or face your fears

The Hall of Prophecy

Is its home

Fetch it quickly

And you will not leave alone.

“Then it's inside the veil!” Hermione said excitedly.

“Not inside, beyond.” Harry corrected.

“You get to take someone back with you?” she asked.

“Apparently.”

The lift stopped, and for the brief moment before the doors opened they looked at each other and nodded in agreement. As the grates slid open, the duo charged from it to the nearest Apparation point. People turned quickly at the sudden commotion, and the bustling crowds were filled with shouts of “It's Harry Potter!” and “Is that Granger and Potter over there?” The second they were able, Harry and Hermione disappeared out of sight, overcome with relief that their escape had worked.

“I think I saw some camera flashes back there.” Harry panted as they spun into focus in the middle of the library.

“We'll figure that out later Harry, we need to get Ron and Ginny back.” Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him to the back of library, forcing his thumb onto the plaque and impatiently waiting for the door to appear. They both walked quickly through the Room of Requirement until they reached the Vanishing Cabinet.

“You know how to reverse it?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Hermione said, deep in concentration.

“Why didn't you do it back there?” Harry asked.

“The Ministry has planted sensory charms everywhere. Whenever someone casts a spell or charm, a log is made. The officials can track down anyone. I didn't want to risk it.” Hermione explained.

She swirled her wand in an intricate pattern before the cabinet glowed a pulsing orange hue. “It worked. Cast a Patronus to tell them to use the cabinet.” She instructed. Harry did as told and a few minutes later, Ron and Ginny appeared before them, Ron looking utterly relieved and Ginny wiping at her tear stained cheeks.

“Let's go.” Harry demanded, leaving the room and dragging Ron and Hermione behind him.

“I'm sorry, Harry!” Ginny called after him.

“Right you are!” Harry shouted back, his voice echoing through the piles of debris and ashes. He could find no forgiveness within himself, and walking away from her seemed easier for his heart was not it. Harry felt such a variety of emotions that he thought it safer to just not show them at all.

*

“Harry, maybe you should go a little easier on her.” Hermione said quietly once they reached the Common Room. She looked concerned for Ron's sister, but Harry could also tell that she, too, was furious because of what Ginny had done.

“No, you know what Hermione, he shouldn't. Because what she did was awful. I had my suspicions when Harry suddenly started crushing on her, and now I realize she wasn't playing a fair game at all.” Ron defended.

Harry said nothing for the rest of the evening. When morning came, packing for the Burrow commenced. Harry let himself sink into his thoughts - how was he supposed to survive the summer living in the same house as Ginny? He had no idea, and the prospect bothered him. He had not anticipated things to get so complicated. In truth, Harry was not incredibly upset about what had happened; he had noticed that things had started to seem a bit off. Harry managed to convince himself that it was all for the best.

He was still very excited about discovering Gryffindor's Quarters and everything else, but things seemed to have dimmed down now that he and Ginny were no longer on speaking terms. Hermione and Ron could quickly sense his unease the next afternoon at lunch.

“She'll get over it, mate. I know she feels rotten about using you. She hasn't spoken to anyone since.” Ron offered, trying to reassure Harry.

“Thanks.” Harry said quietly.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry sadly as he surveyed the room. They watched his eyes, waiting for a glimmer of hope, a flicker of happiness. Harry's gaze settled upon them, and he gave a small smile.

“I'll be okay, guys. Really.”

Ron replied with a simple, “We know” and Hermione returned his smile.

It wouldn't last forever, they all knew that. Harry and Ginny would sort things out, even if it wasn't in the way that everyone expected. The prospect seemed so far away, as the wounds were still so recent, but they would mend. They always did.

They would all find happiness again. The constant feeling of loss would slowly fade until it became a part of them as individuals, and then they would move on with their lives. That is how things usually worked for Harry, Ron and Hermione, after all.

A/N: Thank you for all of your support, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please remember to leave a review!

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Chapter 5: The Steps to the Solution

A/N: I sincerely apologize for not updating sooner – these past few months have been crazy and I’ve been unable to post. I’ll try my best to get back on schedule as soon as I can. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding the plot.

The Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station the following day, ready to accommodate the remainder of the inhabitants of Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and a few parents, students and staff approached the train, exhausted and hopeful and excited. Their figures faded in and out of the billowing steam on the platform as they filed onto the red locomotive, alive with chatter yet quiet with grief all at once.

The trio walked down the narrow corridor, taking their time in choosing from one of the many empty compartments.

“You know Harry, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you heard those voices say.” Hermione began as she pulled back one of the compartment doors.

“Voices? What voices?” Ron questioned. He lowered his voice. “Not like...Chamber of Secrets voices, right?”

“Calm down, Ron. Before we arrived at the Ministry to save Harry, he heard those voices from the Veil again. Except this time, he understood what they were saying. I’ve been trying to solve it for days now. Here.” She handed Ron and Harry a piece of paper with the riddle written out.

Ron scanned the paper with a look of utter confusion.

“You will not leave alone? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if Harry succeeds, he might be able to take someone that has gone through the Veil back with him.” After finally figuring it out, Hermione couldn’t wait to tell Harry. She knew that he would be immediately delighted at the fact that he may have a chance to retrieve Sirius.

“Sirius! Hermione, this is perfect! I can get him back!” Harry had a smile – rarely shown – that was so free and so open you couldn’t help but smile along with him. It had been months, maybe years, since Ron and Hermione had seen it, yet at this prospect, there it was.

“Do you really think we can?” asked Ron incredulously.

“It’s certainly a possibility, yes.”

“This is amazing! I...I don’t even...” Harry sighed. “Having Sirius back would...would complete everything again. He would fix everything – sort of like... he might put me back together.” His smile has fallen, just slightly, but enough for Hermione to take notice. “Can we save him?”

“There’s no harm in trying.” Ron reasoned.

“Exactly.” Hermione agreed. Hermione wanted nothing more than to be happy for Harry, but she also recognized that it may be too dangerous to rescue Sirius at all. For this, Hermione transitioned quickly into another subject.

“Have either of you thought about what’s going to happen to us once we graduate next year?” asked Hermione.

“Who cares? We’re famous!” Ron said excitedly.

“There are more important things than fame. You may be basking in all its glory, Ronald, but Harry has most likely seen enough of it, yes?” Hermione frowned.

“For me, yes, but come on, let the man have his fun Hermione!” Harry smirked at Ron’s broad child-like smile.

They spent the rest of the ride talking about what it finally felt like to be carefree and how their lives would suddenly be so much different. There was a change in the air around them, and they could all sense it. They had just witnessed something monumental – and nothing would ever be the same.

Harry knew Ron had always wanted to end up with Hermione, but he had also taken notice in Hermione’s recent change in attitude towards Ron. It seemed that the entire Weasley family anticipated that Ron and Hermione would get married. It felt like the natural order of things – it was expected. Harry’s relationship with Ginny, however, had changed dramatically, and for the worse. Harry had no idea how the Weasley family would react when they found out that Ginny and himself were no longer on speaking terms. There was always that small feeling of not belonging, that pressing fate of being purposefully forgotten. Harry feared that the Weasley’s acceptance would falter because of the broken connection between himself and Ginny, and at the present time, he was unsure if he was simply being irrational.

“Harry, what do you reckon we should do next?” Ron asked lazily.

“I’m not quite sure actually. It’s guaranteed that our pictures are going to be all over the Prophet these next few days, and we’re going to have to be careful when we go out in public. I know I’ll probably want to get involved in Quidditch sometime later on, or maybe be an Auror, but I think I want to wait a little longer, you know, at least until we finish our education.” Hermione gave a small smile at his mention of school. Harry shrugged. He had surprised himself; until this moment, he had not thought about the future, or about what he might like to do. He had not anticipated being alive at this point, and it almost shocked him that he had any aspirations at all.

“True. I guess we should wait until after our N.E.W.T.s anyways, it’ll be easier to get a job.” Ron added.

“And we’ll be fully qualified.” Hermione stated.

“At least you will. I doubt I’ll be any better at Potions this year than I was in 6^th year. Without that book, I would’ve been lost.” Harry said.

“Hey, who do you think will take Defence position this year?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know. It’ll probably be some old friend of Dumbledore’s. Or maybe a Ministry official. It won’t be Umbridge that’s for sure, with Kingsley as the new Minister.” Harry said nonchalantly.

“Slughorn will be back for Potions?” Ron asked.

“Oh, probably.” Hermione answered.

They settled into light conversation, and Harry, Ron and Hermione retrieved their belongings as the Hogwarts Express slowly pulled into Platform 9 ¾, which was expectedly empty.

They all gathered around Mr. Weasley as he informed them of the portkey that Kingsley had generously set up for them. Mrs. Weasley would be waiting at the Burrow with lunch prepared, as Percy and George were working at the shop and Bill and Fleur had headed back to Shell Cottage. Charlie had gone back to Romania to get some of his things and then he would be returning back to London to visit everybody for a few days.

Harry glanced over at Ginny. She had sat a few compartments down from them, with Mr. Weasley. He didn’t know that Harry and Ginny were not speaking; she had managed to convince her father that she was simply exhausted and emotionally drained (which, to be fair, she was.)

Ron saw Harry look over at his sister and grabbed Harry’s shoulder, silently making sure he was alright. Harry nodded at Ron with a grateful smile. Despite his flaws, Ron cared, and for that, Harry was appreciative.

“Alright everyone, grab hold of the bottle!” Mr. Weasley motioned towards the worn glass bottle that was suspended between his fingers and glowing a deep blue. They all rushed over and grabbed on, just seconds before they felt the usual tug in their abdomen and went spinning into nothingness. Despite the familiarity, magic seemed so different now. It wasn’t really needed for survival anymore; it just was.

A few moments later, they all came plummeting to the ground. Ron landed first, and he succeeded in face-planting the rough terrain. Harry was flipping through the air and clumsily landed right on top of Ron, standing dizzily on his friends back.

“Ugh, Harry, get off me!”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry exclaimed apologetically, before making to step off to help his friend up. As both of them stood, Hermione landed where the two had just been. Trying to regain her balance, she grabbed onto Harry and Ron, pulling them down with her.

“We’ll need to work on your landing skills I’m afraid, you three.” Mr. Weasley chuckled as he stood waiting on the edge of the path leading to the Burrow.

“How does he manage to stay standing?” Ron mumbled, rubbing his back as the three of them climbed to their feet. Ginny had landed a few yards away, being able to plant herself on the ground with her knees.

“No idea.” Harry groaned as he felt his paining neck, making sure it wasn’t broken.

“I’m sorry!” Hermione cried.

Mr. Weasley beckoned for them to follow, and they all headed down the path.

They all arrived at the Burrow a little while later, being welcomed into the lopsided house by Mrs. Weasley, who was clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. Everyone could see how hard she was trying not to cry in front of them; Fred’s death was affecting her terribly. She smiled weakly and greeted them as usual with their fair share of hugs, although less enthusiastic than usual.

“Oh wonderful, wonderful. I see you’ve all arrived safely. Food’s almost ready so you lot better go wash up.” She ushered them all inside, casting a concerned look at Harry. She could see that he was missing something; his eyes were dim, his laugh was different. She couldn’t blame him though; he was a young boy who had been forced into a life that brought nothing but loss.

Mrs. Weasley cast Mr. Weasley a questioning look when Ginny and Harry didn’t even acknowledge each others presence.

She called them all to the table a little while later, and they ate in silence, which was certainly a rarity at the Burrow. Throughout the meal, Ron and Hermione glanced concernedly at Harry, ensuring that he was handling recent events well, what with the defeat of Voldemort, the finding of the room and the conflictions with Ginny. Harry wasn’t really sure what he was feeling at the moment. He felt happy that he had finally managed to defeat Voldemort and that his two best friends were still alive, yet he was mourning. He could not shake the pressing feeling of loss. The loss of his parents, of Sirius, of Dumbledore, of Tonks and Lupin and Fred. The loss of his girlfriend. The loss of his strength. He was drained and extremely confused. He wanted to laugh and cry and be alone and have his friends all at once. Things were never simple for Harry.

Mr. Weasley was the first person to talk.

“Well, I’m sorry all, but I must be off. I have to get to work, Kingsley is expecting me. There are quite a few things to be taken care of. Keep safe, all of you. Alright. See you all later then.”

“Goodbye, dear.” Mrs. Weasley sent off the dirty dishes towards the kitchen and kissed her husband on the cheek.

“Bye, Dad.” Ron mumbled through a full mouth of treacle tart.

“See you Mr. Weasley.” Harry waved.

“Bye Mr. Weasley!” Hermione called.

There was an odd silence left behind when they heard the familiar crack of apparation. It wasn’t awkward, no. It was just empty.

“Thanks for lunch, Mum.” Ginny said quietly before ascending the stairs to her room.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she directed Ron’s now clean dessert plate towards the sink.

“She’s just a bit sad, that’s all. Probably over…” Hermione paused. “Well, over everything, really. We all are, we just show it differently.”

Harry nodded his thanks to Hermione as the trio headed out into the yard.

“Ron, what do you reckon your parents will say when they find out Ginny and I aren’t together anymore?”

“Well, they’ve always wanted you two together, but seriously, they won’t mind once they find out how Ginny used you.” Ron admitted. “We’re all a bit preoccupied right now, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, Harry. Even if they seem upset, they’ll just be worried. They think of you as a son and won’t be mad. They will try and make you feel better if anything. Relationships certainly aren’t their top priority at the moment, to be honest.” Hermione reassured him. “Plus, I think we have better things to worry about, like Gryffindor’s Quarters and that riddle the voices from the veil gave you!” Hermione said excitedly.

Harry ran his hands through his raven coloured hair and gestured a small nod.

The next few days rushed by very fast. Harry felt like they were planning to break into the Ministry or Gringotts all over again.

“So, I was thinking. I know it’s just my prophecy and everything, but I was wondering if you guys would want to come with me.” Harry asked hopefully.

“Harry, we already told you we were going to stick with you until the end. Whatever it takes, we’re coming with you.” Hermione said.

“Yeah, mate. With Voldemort gone, we’re going to be lacking adventure. And now, we have a secret room, three doors that lead all over the castle and a mystery that involves your prophecy and Sirius. This year is going to be better than ever.”

“And we’re going to do everything together.” Hermione nodded.

“Yep. As the... what are we called now? The Golden Trio or whatever.” Ron added.

The first week of summer came and went, with Ron and Harry trying to involve Hermione in the basics of Quidditch, without success. She was definitely uncomfortable with flying, but she found Harry and Ron’s enthusiasm on the subject quite amusing. Quidditch was a fantastic distraction. It provided its own release and isolation, but still kept them all together. It was exactly what they needed.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were both becoming quite worried about Ginny. She had come out of her room after the first day, and now joined them at meals, but she hadn’t spoken with Ron, Harry or Hermione for the last week. When asked why she was acting so strangely, she managed to convince them all that it was just about Fred, which was understandable, given the current situation.

Fred’s funeral had been postponed for a few weeks after the battle instead of just a few days because the Weasleys had to wait until Charlie was able to attend, and George needed to be able to have people watching over the shop while he was gone.

Harry wasn’t sure the Weasleys had actually really realized that Fred was gone. He knew it was going to be very emotional, and was glad that they had waited a bit so everybody could calm down and settle into the new circumstances.

Harry himself was a little distressed because of all the memorials and funerals he had to attend. Not just the people close to him, but all of the people who had died in the war. It was difficult for him to swallow – he felt such guilt, felt so much that this was his entire fault, he couldn’t bear it.

The days of summer were seeping by as the end of June approached. Since the battle had ended in the beginning of May, summer for Hogwarts students was extended by a month, allowing time to get settled and spend time with remaining family.

The Burrow had a different atmosphere than it normally did. Ginny secluded herself in her room, Mr. Weasley was always working and Percy and George spent most of their time at the shop. Harry guessed that George found the separation from his family a relief; Harry knew how it felt to lose a loved one. He knew that seeking time alone was only normal.

Harry was worried about Ron. Ron had just carried on being his normal self and knew that he would be grieving for weeks on end when the dreadful news finally came into full realization. Despite being with the Weasleys, Harry felt that he shouldn’t be there. He knew Hermione felt the same way, too. They weren’t really part of the family; they were scared they were intruding upon something that wasn’t their own.

Fred’s funeral had been a quiet affair, just the Weasleys, close relations and Harry and Hermione. They hadn’t wanted anyone from Hogwarts to come, as Mrs. Weasley didn’t want a huge crowd like the one at Dumbledore’s funeral.

The funerals of Fred, Lupin and Tonks were the first to occur out of those who had died. Lupin and Tonks were to be buried together, having a double funeral.

Fred’s funeral was held outside, a little ways away from the Burrow. They had acquired a small amount of pews, and it was rarely discussed. People arrived, people hugged, people cried. Harry and Hermione stood on the outside of it all, out of place. There was a procession, there were speeches. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat at the front, sobbing. The other Weasleys however, did not cry. They didn’t talk, they didn’t move. They just stood, watching with blank eyes, disbelieving. It pained Harry, to watch them. The longer they waited, the harder it would be to come to terms with it all.

Despite the previous plans, George did not attend his twin’s funeral. Harry felt numb.

This all changed, however, the following week. Lupin and Tonks’ funeral was organized by Kingsley, and was held in a large room at the Ministry. Harry could not think – everyone was there. They hugged him, they grabbed him, they spoke to him. He heard nothing. He wanted none of it. Don’t thank me. They’re dead. They’re all dead.

The Weasleys took seats near the front of the room, close to the podium. The family took up an entire row, Harry and Hermione sitting together at one end, next to Ron.

Ron was a mess; he had not slept in three days, yet he had not cried. He sat in the living room at the Burrow, day after day, next to George. They sat there, together and apart, just staring blankly. The loss of Fred was killing them both.

Ron’s head was rested in his hands, and Hermione sat quietly, looking tired and worried. Harry felt that he could handle this. He had to make himself numb again, just not feel. Not care.

When the bodies were carried up, though, in their coffins, everything broke again. Harry had no resolve, no more strength. Ron looked as if he did not care. Harry hated him in that instant. Ron had to care. Sure, Fred was gone, but Lupin was the only connection he had left to his parents, and he was gone. Just like that.

Hermione looked over at Harry, and saw his face falling, his jaw tensing. He watched Kingsley stand to speak, saw young Teddy, with his teal hair and bright eyes, and that was it. He gave up. Hermione saw Harry’s shoulders sink down, and then he started to cry. He wasn’t sobbing, he wasn’t weeping. Harry just cried, for Lupin, for Tonks, for Teddy, for everyone. He let the tears fall, he let Hermione hug him, he watched Ron turn to him and look away. He slumped into his chair, leaning on Hermione, while the funeral continued, and eventually, ended.

Harry didn’t give his speech; he hadn’t wanted to, and it was probably for the best. There were too many people there, pretending to care and pretending to cry. They could not know the loss that Harry Potter felt. There was no point in speaking.

*

The other services came and went, Harry making appearances at all and saying a few words at each. Everything was done with by the middle of July. Life at the Burrow had changed completely. The Weasleys attitude had changed; they were more accepting of everything that had occurred. Ron was doing much better, and Hermione remained as calm as ever. Harry began to spend more and more time outside. The people within the Burrow were putting their lives back together. He wanted to join them, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to heal yet, so he separated himself from it all.

There was a tree in the yard at the Burrow that provided cool shade on even the hottest days. Harry liked to sit beneath it alone, and just think. One day, though, near the end of the July, he saw Hermione approaching him.

“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“How are you feeling? Alright?”

“I’m fine.” He gave a small nod of reassurance.

“Liar. I can see right through you, you know that.” Hermione sighed. “What’s troubling you?”

He let out a sigh and a small laugh at the same time. “Everything.” He surveyed the lass before him, his eyes travelling far past the yard.

“Harry, I know you’re upset, but…”

“Hermione, no. It is that bad. For me, at least.” Harry said forcefully, turning away from the fields and looking at Hermione. “The war has changed... a lot of things.” He said slowly.

“No it hasn’t.” Hermione stated. “And even if it has, I know you can change it back.”

“Look, you and Ron have great futures ahead of you. I don’t want to put you guys through anything else. I don’t want anybody else to get hurt.” Hermione could tell that Harry was willing himself not to cry.

“Harry...’’ Hermione started.

Harry shook his head. Hermione slowly stood up, and walked quietly away. Harry had finally realized, that at the root of everything, this was it. He cared too much. It was days, maybe weeks later, when Harry spoke to someone again.

*

Harry could sense the worry pulsing through the Burrow. He had not left Ron’s room since his conversation with Hermione, and everyone except Hermione was wondering what was going on. Mrs. Weasley would bring him food, and he would reply with “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” There was a certain formality, and sharpness that Harry had adopted.

Hermione was smart enough not to tell everyone why Harry was upset. She knew that telling people would upset him even more. She realized that because he had been carrying the weight of the whole wizarding world on his shoulders for so long, he felt lost without it. He felt like he was living without purpose or reason. He was only there to save the world and make everything better. That’s it.

One Saturday morning brought about a change in events. Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Charlie all sat around the kitchen table eating breakfast. Hearing footsteps overhead, everyone stopped eating and looked at the stairs. Harry appeared moments later, looking well rested and hungry. He smiled at everyone and took his seat in between Ron and Hermione.

“Sorry I’m late.” he said apologetically.

“Don’t go pretending like nothing’s happened. Don’t pretend you haven’t locked yourself up in Ron’s room for the last week.” Ginny spat. Harry’s smile faded, and no one spoke.

Harry addressed everyone at the table. “I wasn’t feeling very well to be perfectly honest. The last couple months took a great toll on me and I just needed some time off. That’s all.” Harry said sincerely.

“Perfectly understandable. Welcome back, Harry.” Mrs. Weasley announced, with a hint of hesitation. She was still adjusting to everything; in a house so large, everyone healed in different ways.

Hermione nodded reassuringly at Harry, and Charlie gave him a small smile.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly for Harry, as he, Ron, and Hermione began their planning for going beyond the Veil.

“When are we going to get time to do all this, though?” Ron asked.

“Maybe we can ask Professor McGonagall about it.” Harry reasoned.

“Yeah, she’ll probably give us some time to look into it. After all, she did tell you about Gryffindor’s Quarters in the first place.” said Ron lazily as he sat on the bench out in the backyard.

“That’s it!” Hermione cried, looking up from her book. “I’ve been reading up on magical veils, particularly about the one in the Department of Mysteries. There are ministries all over the world, and they all have one. Get this: ‘Magical veils have many features of protection that serve as obstacles within.’

“It doesn’t sound like getting in will be very easy. Like the riddle, it says entering at first is dangerous for your eyes. I’ll look into it a bit more and figure out what we’ll be dealing with.” She scanned the text. “And another thing, ‘Once inside a veil, no time passes in the external world.’ No one will realize how long we’ve been gone.” Hermione explained.

“That’s perfect!” Harry exclaimed.

*

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the next few days reading more about magical veils. It was also within this time that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley figured out that Ginny and Harry were no longer together.

“Took you long enough,” stated Charlie.

“But...but neither of them ever said anything!” Mrs. Weasley cried, exasperated.

“Of course they didn’t say anything! You had your heart set on them getting married that they were afraid what you might do to them when you found out!” Charlie laughed.

“But...I...” Mrs. Weasley stuttered, at a loss for words.

“Leave it, Mum. What will happen will happen. You can’t control everything.” Charlie reasoned.

“He’s right, you know.” Mr. Weasley added. Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband.

*

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat at the coffee table in the living room with a piece of parchment. Hermione was taking notes on everything they had figured out so they could refer to it later. As she scribbled down her last few words, she looked up at them.

“I think it’s pretty clear what we need to do next.” Hermione stated.

“What?” Ron asked, his mouth muffled with food. Harry nodded for her to go on.

“Our information is incredibly vague, and I don’t think we’ll manage with pure survival instinct this time. Seeing as we’re completely unprepared, I think we need to learn how to save a life.”

A/N: This chapter was one of the most difficult chapters I’ve had to write / edit for Behind the Tapestry, so I really hope it turned out well. Thank you so much, especially if you’ve stuck with this story so far, and please remember to leave a review!