Harry Potter and the Simulacrum Seal

Chapter Twenty: Torn Apart

Remus Lupin had a lot to catch up on when he returned to human form the following morning. It thus came as no surprise to Harry - and with some relief, given his own fatigue - that the question of where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been was not raised officially until early in the afternoon. Mrs Weasley had asked, Tonks had asked, and Neville had asked, but Harry had deferred their questions, telling them that they had been on an undisclosed mission that Remus knew about.

'So where were you?' Remus asked them tiredly. 'Your absence was due to a Horcrux, I assume?'

'Yes,' confirmed Harry. 'And we were successful. You know that stain on the floor?'

'The one Fred and George took credit for? They said they accidentally melted something in an experiment.'

It was true, more or less. 'It was a Horcrux. Hufflepuff's Cup. It's destroyed now,' Harry announced.

Remus smiled weakly. 'That's excellent news. How are the others coming along?'

'Er,' began Hermione, 'we haven't -'

'Of course,' Remus interrupted in a friendly manner, 'I'm sure you haven't had time.'

Harry intended to reenter the mindscape that very day. He was rested, healed, and just a little sore. But first he had to speak with Hermione; she'd been angling for a discussion with him for hours, but Harry had been avoiding her. He'd wanted to gather his own thoughts first, and now he thought he was ready.

So after Remus left them alone, Harry turned to Hermione - but Ron interrupted first. 'Pretty neat how Neville killed a werewolf,' he remarked, looking wistful. 'I can't get over that. Tonks says that he was her right-hand man out there.'

'Yes, it's good for him,' agreed Hermione, not sounding overly interested. 'Harry, we have to talk.'

Those dreaded words. 'I know.'

Ron seemed confused. 'What about?'

Hermione had a rehearsed speech look on her face; she was concentrated and focused on saying everything right. 'Last night when we returned we found the note left for us crumpled and thrown into the bushes. Someone did that - someone not in the Order. I think it was Snape because he's the only Death Eater who could have reached the door.'

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione silenced him with a raised hand. 'Please, let me finish. If it was Snape, he must have known that we were gone that night - which means that he knew we were after a Horcrux.

'I think Voldemort didn't want to risk you getting hurt, Harry. I think that's why the werewolves were called off barely fifteen minutes after we arrived. What I don't understand is why Voldemort wouldn't have stopped us from destroying the Horcrux if he knew what we were doing.'

Ron's mouth hung open. 'That's...that's nuts, Hermione.'

'Then how did the note get in the bushes?' she challenged him.

'That's not the only thing that doesn't make sense about your theory,' Harry told her, brushing aside her question for the moment. 'If Snape wanted us not to get that note, he would have set it on fire or something - not just throw it in the bushes.'

Hermione chewed her lip. 'That...that's a good point...'

'But you're right about the attack being called off because of me - I even heard a Death Eater say it.'

Her jaw dropped. 'You what? Why didn't you say anything?'

Harry couldn't help but smile. 'I was, well, sleeping.'

'Before that,' Hermione uttered mutinously.

He smirked, but then frowned deeply. 'Maybe they were planning to delay me somehow, and they got lucky because we were busy with the Horcrux. It can't be that Voldemort knew about it. He would have stopped us. Horcruxes are too valuable to use as bait to lead me away from a werewolf attack.'

'I...I suppose...' But Hermione was still unsure. 'Still, the note...'

'I don't know,' admitted Harry. 'Maybe someone from the Order did it accidentally. It doesn't matter now. We need to move forward. We finished off one Horcrux last night, but there's a lot more for us to do.'

Harry turned to Ron. 'We need to go back inside the mindscape.'

Ron nodded, looking unsurprised. 'Yeah, I figured. Today?'

'There's no time like the present,' Harry declared. Now that they were on a roll, a secret part of Harry was really hoping to destroy all the Horcruxes before Ginny's return in December...

***

Mrs Weasley went with them to St Mungo's; Harry felt slightly guilty about dragging her away from the house when she was so tired. But she insisted - 'I was going to see Arthur today anyway,' she told them. 'It's no trouble.'

As usual, Harry shuffled to the elevator with Ron and Hermione in his Invisibility Cloak and threw it off once he got near the ward. The Healer-in-Charge hadn't reported him the last time he'd visited, so there was no reason for Harry to think he'd squeal to the Ministry now, either.

He and Hermione opened the door to the mindscape together. The mindscape was the same as before; they made a beeline for the chess board, the obvious place to find the next Horcrux clue.

He reached out right away to take another piece - this time he stretched toward the back of the board on the first tier. He grabbed the pawn between his fingers and dragged it away from the chess board, but nothing happened.

He and Hermione looked it over. There was nothing special about it. Harry tried putting it back on the board and picking it up again, and when that didn't work, he tried every other chess piece - even the ones knocked over already - but no more clues appeared.

Hermione sighed. 'We really were very lucky before. I suppose we'll have to try harder this time.'

They searched for as long as they were able to stay inside safely, combing through as many of the seemingly thousands of things inside as they could. Harry's heart sank at their lack of results. 'If we stay a little longer -'

'Not today, Harry.' Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. 'We have to leave now. There's nothing here.'

Harry sighed, but he assented. He gave the snow globe one last look. 'Wait. I want to know what's in there.'

'I don't -'

He walked toward it as fast as he could before he changed his mind.

'Harry!' said Hermione, her voice tinged with fear.

By the time he got close enough to touch it, the sound the snow was making was like popcorn popping. He picked it up, and it vibrated in his hands. That feeling he got that he should put it down intensified, but he ignored it and tried to see inside.

It was impossible. The snow wouldn't stop spinning. All he could see was a haze of white.

Harry reluctantly set the globe down again. 'Yeah, let's go.'

***

The wizarding world cowered in the wake of the werewolf attack. Though the werewolves had retreated in the end, a few intrepid reporters managed to wangle the truth of the matter - and as soon as the number of werewolves was reported in the Prophet (more than two for every Auror), a dreading stillness descended on the wizarding world. Even Fred and George may have struggled for business without their latest draw: The Boy Who Lived in a Box.

One person who was positively affected by the event was Neville Longbottom, whose confidence had ballooned. With Harry away, Neville had been thrown into the foreground for the first time, and he'd seen that he could stand on his own two feet. Neville and Hermione could now fight to a stalemate in a practice duel - all because Neville believed in himself.

Harry continued to venture into the mindscape at least once every few days. He thoroughly examined everything inside, but nothing bore any clear clue about the location of the remaining missing Horcrux - "something" of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's.

He even tried his best to smash the snow globe, but it was impervious to damage. He left it somewhere else in the room, but it was back in the corner by the next day. Then he had Hermione go in alone to examine it - the globe seemed to react particularly strongly, almost angrily, to Harry's presence - but she wasn't able to see anything in it either.

Yet Harry was certain that it was important. He kept being drawn back to the snow globe as if the room revolved around whatever was inside.

Meanwhile Hermione and Ron tried to discover what possible relic of Ravenclaw's the Horcrux could be; the only known relics of Gryffindor's were at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, relics of Ravenclaw were more common than those of Gryffindor or Slytherin - she had apparently collected as many gadgets and thingies as Dumbledore. More fortunately, most of them were accounted for; together they slowly scratched items off the list.

On the one month anniversary of the werewolf attack, Harry tried not to think about his lack of success. He was becoming very good at Legilimency - unlike Occlumency, Harry had a knack for it. A month or two more and he knew he'd be looking forward to his next encounter with Snape. Though Snape would be able to see through Harry's own meagre Occlumency defences like clear water, Harry was hopeful that he could break into Snape's thoughts as well, putting them on an even playing field for the first time.

But it was hard for Harry to be positive when he was positively bored. Only Moody, with decades of tricks up his sleeves, was much of a match for Harry these days, and Moody was too busy to duel that day - the Order was concerned about another werewolf attack.

Thus Harry was left flipping through books on Ravenclaw, her distant relations, and antique collectors as he thoughtlessly flipped the fake locket open and shut.

Click, click, click, click -

He was surprised to hear a knock on the door. Hermione jumped up to answer it; she was as tired as he and Ron were of sitting still.

Remus was on the other side, very haggard and oddly pleased. 'There's a visitor for you,' he declared, looking at Harry. 'Aberforth spotted Kitty York in the Hog's Head and alerted me. We managed to slip her an invitation, so now she's down in the kitchen -'

Harry was out the door before Remus finished. 'Thanks!' he shouted back, pounding down the stairs. Hermione and Ron happily followed. It was unexpectedly wonderful news; Kitty York might have some ideas for how to access Harry's mum's belongings...

They found Kitty sipping a cup of tea with Mrs Weasley. Her large face lit up when she saw Harry. 'Well!' she exclaimed as Harry took a seat. 'And these are your friends?'

'Yeah - Ron, Hermione, this is Kitty York, a friend of my mum's from school.'

'Pleased to meet you,' said Hermione.

Ron agreed, 'Yeah, nice to meet you.'

'Likewise,' replied Kitty with a wide smile and big teeth. 'I'm sorry I had to rush away when we met,' she told Harry, biting her lip guiltily.

Harry brushed aside her apology. 'It wasn't your fault...but I'm hoping you can tell me more about the bag.'

Kitty's face fell, and Harry's fell with it. 'Oh...I'm really sorry, but I don't know anything...I'll admit I tried to open it a few times over the years...but it's very stubborn, isn't it? It reminds me of Lily that way...'

Seeming suddenly very sad, she added, 'She gave it to me just a week before she was killed...she told me to keep it safe. Lily was very serious about it. I hope you manage to open it eventually.'

'Me too,' Harry agreed. 'You...you knew my mum well, then?'

'Yes! We were good friends. I was a year above her at Hogwarts, but I didn't fit in very well with the girls in my year...Lily and I got along, and we kept in touch after Hogwarts. Every Monday we got together for lunch and commiserated about having to go back to work for the rest of the week...and every Friday before she got married we went out to celebrate the arrival of the weekend!'

Harry found himself smiling at the description of his mother. He was raptly attentive as Kitty continued her description of Lily - fond of work, not fond of her boss, intense and sometimes secretive, in love with Harry's dad (after a while), in love with Harry (always).

But eventually the topic came round to Kitty herself. 'What will you do?' Harry asked her.

She blinked in a sad sort of way. 'I'm going home. I've been living in Australia for years. Remus Lupin says he's able to help me escape Britain - the Ministry can't extradite me without a case, which they most certainly don't have. All they want is that bag - that's why I moved in the first place. I couldn't give it up for Lily's sake, but I was tired of the intrigue.'

Harry felt a great deal of sympathy and respect for Kitty York. She'd changed her whole life just to be faithful to his mother - to keep that bag out of Ministry hands.

He noticed that her tea was empty. 'Here, allow me,' he said before Mrs Weasley, also listening intently with tears in her eyes, could object. It was Harry's house - he was getting more comfortable with thinking of Grimmauld Place as his - so he ought to play host.

As he walked away, he felt something slip out of his pocket and heard it clatter to the floor. He looked around for it briefly and then sighed. It was the fake locket he'd been toying with. Harry picked it up.

Kitty had turned around in her chair at the sound and watched him. She smiled broadly. 'Why, it's been ages since I've seen that locket,' she remarked.

Harry stopped with the teapot in his hand. '...What?'

Wistfully, Kitty continued in a conspiratorial voice, 'I remember when James got her that. He was a good man, your father, but hopeless with birthdays, anniversaries, that sort of thing. It was their one-year anniversary, and Lily knew he'd forgot, so the first thing she did that morning was give him a passionate kiss - in public, no less - and tell him how eager she was to see what he had planned for the evening of their anniversary. Then she walked off and left him blubbering like a fish!'

Kitty laughed out loud at the memory, and Mrs Weasley laughed at the telling of it.

'That's just like a man!' Mrs Weasley declared, and the two tittered as Harry's mouth opened dumbly in stupefaction.

'But of course, James being James, he managed to pull something together in the nick of time - and he gave her that locket. I'd recognize it from a mile away - Lily kept it with her all the time for years from then on. Goodness knows where he got it from; he didn't have time to get it engraved, obviously...'

Kitty frowned when she noticed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't seem to be enjoying the story. 'What's the matter?' she asked.

Ron and Hermione were gaping at Harry as if he'd contracted a flesh-eating disease. 'You...that's...this wasn't...are you sure?'

'Sure of what?' Kitty asked with an uncomprehending frown.

'This locket - it was my mum's locket?'

Kitty pursed her lips; Harry's lack of sureness seemed to decrease her own certainty. 'Give it here.'

She held out her hand.

Harry handed the locket to her, and Kitty examined it. A satisfied expression fell over her face. 'Yes, yes I'm sure of it. This is it. It's even got that little scratch on the side from when it fell onto the sidewalk after the clasp broke. The portrait's gone, though - there was a picture of James in it before. Oh, it was a lovely picture; it was taken when...'

Kitty continued with her story. Words wouldn't come out of Harry's throat.

He poured the tea and kept his ear open for more details about his mum - but his brain couldn't get past the knowledge that his mother's locket had ended up where Voldemort's was supposed to be.

***

Kitty York was gone the next morning. She stayed overnight and was then snuck back to Australia courtesy of an Order contact.

Harry managed to avoid Hermione and Ron's questions until she was gone; he really did want to hear as much about his mother as he could, so he pushed the locket out of his mind and concentrated on drinking in all of Kitty's knowledge of Lily Potter.

But now Kitty wasn't there to distract him, so the locket settled in like a storm cloud; Ron and Hermione cornered him.

'How do you suppose your mother's locket got into the cave?' Hermione asked him as if she expected him to have an answer - but Harry could only shake his head.

'Maybe Regulus stole it,' supplied Ron.

The locket hadn't left Harry's pocket since Kitty had handed it back to him. He clutched it very tightly in his hand. 'I don't know - but I know who does.'

At Hermione and Ron's questioning looks, Harry went up the stairs. They followed, and he produced the satchel with his mother's mysterious belongings guarded by her simulacrum. He pretended to try to open the bag, and the simulacrum appeared.

'Hello,' she said, smiling down at him. He hadn't touched the bag for a long while - he'd forgotten the semi-pleasant, semi-wrenching feelings she produced in him. Those emotions came flooding back at once.

'Hello,' he replied, trying to keep his tone disinterested. 'Can you tell me why this locket was in the cave instead of Voldemort's Horcrux?'

The fake Lily's face took on a new expression entirely; a glow rose in her cheeks, and a twinkle sparked in her eye. She seemed more alive, more like his mum.

'Oh, you're terribly close, aren't you?' she said in a low voice. 'Yes, I can - but not until you tell me what you would do with such knowledge.'

'Wait, your mum knew about the Horcruxes?' asked Hermione, eyes bugged out in surprise. 'How?'

Harry had no idea, but he had to answer the simulacrum's question. He frowned and thought hard. What answer did she want? He tried being honest. 'I want to defeat Voldemort.'

He could feel the simulacrum's eyes examining his to test for veracity. '"Defeat" is such a general word,' she mused. 'Defeat him how?'

Harry raised an eyebrow at the bizarre query. 'By destroying his Horcruxes and then killing him,' he replied baldly. What other way was there to do it?

Her face fell into a stern look. Then, as if the life in her had been drawn inward again, her expression turned into an unrealistically large, apologetic smile. 'Sorry, that's not the answer.'

'Harry, your mum knew about Horcruxes!' Hermione hissed again.

'Yeah, I got that, thanks. What about it? She could have found out from Slughorn.' Though Harry doubted it - after how it had turned out with Tom Riddle, Slughorn was probably clever enough to keep his mouth shut about Horcruxes from then on.

'Don't you understand what that means?' she continued, looking both aghast and frantic.

Ron was white. Harry didn't understand at all what they were so disturbed by. 'What?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'Your mother...might have...she might have made a Horcrux! That's what could be in the bag! Harry, if she made a Horcrux...'

Harry considered the implications - for a few brief moments. Then, not entirely sure how to feel, he replied quietly, but with certainty, 'No - she couldn't have. My mother wouldn't have done that. Her sacrifice wouldn't have saved me if her soul wasn't whole. She couldn't have died for me.'

Hermione's face fell. Ron smiled with relief. 'Oh,' Hermione said weakly. 'Oh. I'm...I'm sorry, Harry -'

'Don't be. I'm glad she didn't.' Or so Harry was trying to think he was. 'My mum wouldn't be herself anymore if she'd made a Horcrux.'

Ron looked away, understanding at that moment why Hermione was so upset. 'But she could have been brought back from the dead.'

'No,' Harry reminded Ron strongly. 'Nothing can bring back the dead. My mum wouldn't have died - she couldn't have died, just like Voldemort.'

The thought of any comparison, even hypothetical, between his mother and Voldemort sent a shiver down Harry's spine. Yet part of him did think it would be...nice...if his mum had left a Horcrux behind, even if it was, fortunately, completely impossible.

But the bag's contents still took on a new sense of urgency. It didn't just contain a potential way to stop the Dementors - there could be some clue about defeating Voldemort himself...

***

Slughorn had moved again - but at least he'd told the Order. When Harry arrived, he immediately asked how the Legilimency was coming along.

'Great,' replied Harry with sincerity. 'This house is bigger than the last.'

Slughorn brimmed with pleasure as if Harry had given him a personal compliment. 'Well, yes, I spent ages searching for just the right one...it's hard to find appropriate empty houses now that the summer holidays are over...the owners of this one here are in Brazil.'

At least they were starting off on the right foot. 'I'm here to ask you about my mum.'

'Ah, I see. What about her?'

Harry cringed. He hadn't realized asking this question would be so uncomfortable - which was foolish of him. It had taken all of his luck and cunning to get anything about his memory of telling Tom Riddle about Horcruxes out of Slughorn. He might boot him out of the house for asking another such question.

'I...I need to know if my mother ever asked you about Horcruxes.' At the turn in Slughorn's expression, Harry rushed to add, 'I'm not accusing you of telling her - I just need to know if she asked, that's all.'

'No!' he insisted in a shocked voice, shaking his head. 'Your mother would never, ever ask such a thing. Why, Lily Potter, interested in Horcruxes? I can't think of a single person less likely to ask!'

Harry was no expert at truth-telling - well, he sort of was now, but using Legilimency on Slughorn didn't strike Harry as the best of ideas - but Slughorn seemed fervently honest. He hadn't been a good liar at all before.

Harry decided to butter him up and take one last stab at him. 'Okay, sir. I was just wondering because it seems that she definitely knew something about them, and I thought she might have asked you, since you were one of her favourite teachers.'

Slughorn blinked. 'She did know about Horcruxes? No! She didn't!'

'She did,' Harry confirmed.

Slughorn was unwilling to believe it. Harry was certain that Slughorn had nothing to do with whatever his mum had found out about Horcruxes, so he cut their meeting short after that; following some pleasantries, he was off again.

Harry as he walked away from the house under his Invisibility Cloak. Then how did she learn about Horcruxes?

***

'We've narrowed it down to two,' said Hermione as they discussed the potential Horcruxes that were Ravenclaw artefacts. 'The first is Ravenclaw's Hourglass. It's said to be a precursor to the Time-Turners. Someone in Ravenclaw's line had it until 1849; then the family sold it, and it was bought by a collector in Algeria. We haven't managed to track it down after that.'

Hermione cringed. 'And then there's an item that's...ickier. Rowena Ravenclaw's heart was removed from her body by her eldest son, whom she didn't get on with very well -'

'There's an understatement,' muttered Ron. 'Even Percy wouldn't rip Mum's heart out after she died.'

'- and there have been several parties over the years claiming they have it preserved in a jar. There are a few potential hearts out there, and proving which heart is really Ravenclaw's - if any - has stymied the best magical minds tackling the problem.'

Ron scrunched his face in disapproval. 'What I want to know is where the ones that aren't Ravenclaw's came from.'

Harry nodded in agreement, disgusted. 'Great, so it's either an hourglass or a heart.'

'A still-beating heart,' added Hermione. 'I wonder what spell was used to -'

'Don't,' interrupted Ron. He put his arm over Hermione's shoulder. 'There are some things even you don't need to know.'

'Knowing Voldemort, let's assume the grosser of the two options. It sounds like we're looking for Ravenclaw's still-beating heart,' Harry declared.

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Great. Wonderful. And here I was thinking that nothing could top running around in the sewers and nearly getting my arm lobbed off.'

'There's still time for you to go to Beauxbatons,' teased Hermione with a smirk.

Harry looked at his watch. 'Speaking of time, I'd better head off to Godric's Hollow.' He glanced at the bundle of flowers he'd set down on his bed to bring his parents. It was Halloween - the anniversary of their deaths - and Harry was hoping that this visit to his mum and dad would go better than the last one had.

'Ron and I will come with you,' Hermione said with an insistent look. 'It's not good for anyone to be out alone in the dark these days, let alone you - and don't forget that the Ministry might have law enforcement staking out their graves tonight in case you show up.'

***

They circled the relevant part of the graveyard a few times. Hermione cast spells intended to reveal anything hidden - like a trap or a person - before she reluctantly agreed that she and Ron would stay where they were while Harry spoke to his parents.

It was a cool, clear night; the stars shone brightly overhead. Wet grass crunched under Harry's feet as he made his way to his parent's graves. He kept alert in case there was someone still out there waiting for him.

Harry's stomach was in knots; he tried to hear any suspicious sounds over the chirping of the crickets and did his best not to crinkle the paper the flowers were wrapped in as his hands clenched.

As he approached, Harry could feel that something was wrong, but he didn't know what. If Ron and Hermione hadn't been there, he'd have taken a run to the grave, but he knew they'd think something was wrong and come after him.

So he walked calmly, though he could hardly bear to.

When his eyes came within range of his parent's grave, Harry gave up being calm immediately and sprinted toward it as fast as he could.

He faced his parents, and his heart lurched at the sight.

The tombstone had been knocked over onto its back; it was cracked down the middle. At Harry's feet was a hole as deep and long as he was tall. The casket that should have been there was missing.

Red roses dropped from Harry's unsteady arm and fell into the hole. He stared at him as he listened to Ron and Hermione approach.

'Oh Harry,' whispered Hermione when she saw what had happened. Her eyes were wide open in horror.

'Who would -' began Ron, but he stopped before the remaining words left his mouth.

One of Harry's parents' bodies had been stolen, and the footprints leading a few steps away from the grave before vanishing told Harry that it had been done very recently - probably that very night.

'Which one did they take?' he mouthed, staring down at the flowers. For a moment his mind was blank, but once sense returned, Harry was sure he already knew the answer.

Lily Potter's remains had been stolen.

***

They returned to Grimmauld Place without a sound. Hermione's hand hadn't left Harry's arm since she'd Apparated him back. He couldn't meet his friend's eyes; he stared instead at the curtains over Mrs Black's portrait.

Mrs Weasley came to greet them; Harry had told her where they were going. 'How was it?' she asked before her eyes fell on Harry's pale face. Her smile dropped. 'What happened? Were there Ministry people there?'

Silence followed as Harry tried to work his mouth around the proper words. Just as Hermione opened her mouth to explain instead, Harry said, 'They took my mum.' His voice was barely above a whisper.

He watched the expression on Mrs Weasley's face change to the same horrified look Hermione had worn at first. She approached Harry carefully and placed her hands on his shoulders. 'Are...are you sure?'

Ron's grim nod affirmed what Harry had told her. One of Mrs Weasley's hands flew off Harry's shoulder to cover her mouth, gaping in shock.

Together the three shuffled Harry into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Harry's thoughts were still in the graveyard - he was staring at the flowers he had dropped. The roses were all dirty now. His mum would never see them.

The group passed Remus on the way; Harry didn't glance at him. As soon as he saw their faces, Remus followed them, and Harry heard the beginnings of Hermione whispering before his attention was caught by the broken gravestone. He imagined it falling down, crack -

'Good God,' exclaimed Remus. Harry didn't turn around.

A half hour later, after Harry had drained his tea, he was calmer. The discussion in the room had changed to a more benign topic; they were watching for Harry to snap out of it.

'I suppose it was Voldemort,' Harry interrupted abruptly. Mrs Weasley's teacup shook in her hand.

'That seems like the most likely explanation,' agreed Hermione with a sad note in her voice. 'But why now? If he wanted to, he could have done this years ago.'

'Maybe it's a present,' Harry remarked distantly. 'Maybe Bellatrix Lestrange thinks it's funny.'

The room was quiet again after that for a while. Harry had another cup of tea.

'Molly!' a female voice called from upstairs.

Mrs Weasley stood up. 'Down here!' she shouted back.

Footsteps - at least two pairs - tumbled down the stairs at a fast pace. Harry knew it couldn't be good news.

Tonks rushed in, and she was tugging on the sleeve of someone's robe. 'Something's happened,' she informed them, grim enough to fit with the rest of the room.

Her companion came into the dim kitchen light. It was a quiet, subdued Weasley twin, his shoulders hunched.

'What is it, Fred? You're injured!' cried Mrs Weasley. She rushed over and inspected the bloody gash over Fred's eye.

'I'm fine,' said Fred, though he didn't sound fine at all. His voice was weak and reluctant, and he wouldn't meet his mother's eyes.

'What happened?' asked Harry. He stood up and brushed off his own problems unthinkingly.

As though he were coming out of a deep haze, Fred noticed Harry and strode over to him, ignoring his mother's efforts to keep him still.

'You have to help,' Fred said to Harry, his voice shaking.

He'd never seen Fred look like that or sound like that; Harry was deeply concerned. 'What's wrong?' he asked slowly and calmly. 'I'll do whatever I can to help sort it out.'

Fred swallowed. 'There was an attack...at the store. Someone's dead - Penelope Clearwater is dead. And George,' he said. His haunted eyes stared right through Harry.

'They took George.'