025

Between the time we left the library last night, and when Harry, Ron and I converged here this afternoon, someone put an extension charm on the room. It's twice as big as it was the night before and the elves are currently in the process of shelving all the books we brought back with us from the vaults.

Which is a lot.

Hence the extension charm.  

Winky is doing an excellent job directing her boys in how to best organize the new additions into the existing library, but it doesn't stop me from glancing over there every few seconds and flexing my fingers with the need to supervise. Or better yet, do it myself.

I have no idea how she managed to find more bookshelves that completely match the existing setup.

There's a couch in the library now as well, plus two oversized armchairs. The rickety round table was replaced with an antique wooden monstrosity and half a dozen matching chairs. The Black emblem is embossed into each of the armrests.

It screams pureblood superiority. Only Winky could have made the change. Though, Kreacher looks rather pleased with himself too. 

I really think I underestimated the place House Elves hold in our society. They can come and go anywhere they please, without a second glance. I don't want to imagine how many times Winky has popped in and out of our vaults in the last forty-eight hours. I doubt they even have to go in the front doors. The Goblins underestimate the elves' magic the same way humans do. 

I doubt that other house elves have the full autonomy that our elves do, but I'm sure they have free reign of their master's households. They come and go as they please, doing what they will in the name of serving their families. 

It's a weakness in pureblood society I'm sure we can exploit if we put our mind to it. I've already added it to my to-do list.

After destroying Horcruxes, collecting Hallows, learning how to be a wife and generally saving the world, that is.

"If this stupid neckless is as dangerous as you say it is, and holds the same evil as that cup did, why in Merlin's saggy ball sack are we still holding onto this thing?" Ron demands, poking at the locket sitting between us on the table.

This afternoon is the first time it's been the three of us since we left the room of requirement the day after we were dropped into this timeline.

Sirius and Remus are on their way to pick up their auror friend, Nathanial. Molly and Ginny went out to do some shopping at Diagon, while the rest of the Weasley boys are back at the Burrow, getting into trouble while Mum's back is turned.

Which leaves us to build plans on how to save the British magical community. 

"I haven't decided whether to destroy it now or hang onto them and destroy them all together," I answer for the both of us.

Ron looks at me like I'm speaking Parseltongue. 

Did I?

Can I?

I add that to my list of Bond experiments to try. Right behind mutual masturbation.

"That makes zero sense," Ron says, poking at the locket with his wand. "Harry didn't hesitate to kill the other one. If kill is even the right word."

"Harry needed to make a point," I say, referring to his destruction of the Hufflepuff cup.

"Kill is a pretty accurate description," Harry agrees, moving the necklace out of Ron's reach. Harry picks up one of the books on dark magic we swiped from the Black vault and starts flipping through the pages. "It may be an inanimate object, but it's filled with a fragment of Voldemort's soul. You saw what happened with the last one. They always put up a fight. It's as if they can feel when the means of their destruction is near."

I reach out and slap Ron's hand away since he's still trying to prod the metal. He gives me a dirty look, shaking out his hand. What a baby. I didn't hit him that hard.

"You actually destroyed this one in the other timeline," Harry says distractedly, and Ron perks up at that, sitting straight in his seat.

"I did?" he asks happily.

"Yup!" Harry agrees, grinning at our best friend. "Saved my life too. I was a git who jumped into a frozen lake wearing the locket. It tried to choke me to death. You pulled my ass out, then destroyed the locket with the sword."

Ron's chest swells in pride. 

Well, that's just unattractive.

"Yes. Very well done. It was especially impressive, seeing as how it was the first time we'd seen you after you abandoned us for weeks," I add primly, and Ronald's shoulders cave in on themselves.

Better. 

"Was that necessary?" Harry smirks at me.

"I thought it was," I confess. "It's important we use all the facts available to us, so we don't repeat the mistakes of the past."

Harry opens his mouth, then snaps it shut again, and I preen with the knowledge that I've won this round.

Ron shakes his head, scratching at his scalp.

"Let's go over it again," Ron says. "Where are the others located?"

It's so bizarre. We're having the exact same conversations, only in a completely different timeline. I pull out my purple notebook, cutely labeled Moldy Voldy, and flip to my page of lists and possible locations. I pull the blue gel-pen from my ponytail and pop the lid off the top.

"There are six Horcruxes."

I flip my notebook around and drop it in front of Ron.

"Seven," Harry interrupts, his green eyes glowing with stubbornness and anger.

Merlin, he's so annoying! Martyrdom isn't a good look on him at all. His fingers rise unconsciously to his forehead, and he runs the tips over his scar.

"You don't count!" I snap, already beyond irritated with that line of thought.

"I sure as hell do!" he insists. "Weren't you the one just saying that it's important to use all the facts? Well, I had a Horcrux inside my head for most of my life. That's a fact! 

"He only ever intended to make six. We don't know what the accidental split did to him. Neither does he! I'm sure he never realized I was a Horcrux. Which means he certainly doesn't know it now. His soul is so unstable that a fragment broke off when he wasn't planning on it! That means something Hermione!"

I take a deep breath, pulling back my shoulders.

You can't hit your husband. You cannot hit your husband.

"I'm not saying it's not an important detail that his soul is so fragile. I'd be willing to bet he doesn't even have a soul anymore. It's all been broken apart and shoved into little scraps of metal."

"And flesh and bone," Harry cuts in. 

I close my eyes and breathe. 

"Fine."

I open my eyes and look to Ronald, who's watching us bicker with a wary expression.

"There were seven Horcruxes to start with. The one in Harry, which has been destroyed," I give Harry a dirty look. "The cup, the diary and the snake, which have all been destroyed by Harry."

"Wait," Ron throws his arm out, his face scrunched up. "The diary. Do you mean the one that possessed Ginny in second year?"

"The one and the same," I confirm. "That's why it was able to take her over. It wasn't an advanced spell. It was a fragment of Voldemort's soul."

"Bloody hell," Ron breathes, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Exactly," I agree.

His eyes flick between me and Harry.

"So, Ginny was possessed by You-Know-Who?" he tries to confirm. 

Harry gives him a bemused smile, glancing at Ron from over his book.

"You knew that Mate. You've known that since it happened. It's how he was able to get her to open the Chamber."

"Yeah," Ron nods his head. "But I just thought it was a wicked bit of dark magic. I didn't realize it was really You-Know-Who's soul!"

I squeeze Ron's forearm, understanding more than most the shock and horror one feels when you realize someone you love has been possessed by Voldemort. 

"Well, in all fairness, it was a wicked bit of dark magic. Said dark magic just happened to allow Voldemort to take over Gin for a while. But Harry got him in the end; just like he will this time too."

I grin at Harry. He grimaces back. The bond flairs with displeasure, and I kinda feel nauseous. But I think it's coming from him. 

Moving on.

I tap my fingers on the table, pulling the boys' attention back to me.

"We have the ring left. The ring was destroyed by Dumbledore in between our fifth and six years. Though, how he's going to destroy it now that Harry has the sword is a mystery. Plus, since he's promised to give you private lessons a full year earlier than last time, I think we can assume that the destruction of the ring isn't going to happen the same this time around the bend."

Harry scowls, tossing the book harshly back onto the table and scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Agreed," Harry grumps. "Add it to the list of shit to do. Especially since Dumbledore almost got himself killed destroying it last time."

He shoves up from the table, and starts that brooding, pacing, not at all attractive, and horribly sexy stomping thing he's been doing as of late.

I forcefully pull my gaze away from him and the way his new clothes hug his lithe form.

"What?" Ron asks, looking at me for an explanation. My eyes flick to the elves, still shelving away. Last thing we need is for Harry to lose his cool over something else he couldn't control. 

I give my head a tiny shake.

"Don't ask," I mumble. I tip my head at Harry and run my finger across my throat. Ron's eyes go all wide. He nods in response.

I give my notebook a tiny shake, getting us back on track.

"And we have the locket," I say, pointing to the necklace that's been moved out of Ron's reach. "After that, all that's left is Ravenclaw's artifact."

"Which is the one we know nothing about," Ron supplies succinctly.

I pull my binder away from Ron, who's currently picking at the edges and not bothering to actually browse over my meticulous notes.

"I plan on asking Luna for advice the first chance I get. She's in Ravenclaw. Maybe she can give us a starting point."

"I still think we need to acknowledge the fact that there's a big chance that the final Horcrux is at Hogwarts," Harry says with his hands linked behind his back. "It was his first home. The castle played an important role in his life. He tried to go back as a teacher, and the dark arts position has been cursed ever since. If I were betting money, I'd bet on Hogwarts."

His certainty that he's correct is eating at me, but even with the strength of his will bearing down on my psyche through our bonds, I still disagree. I attempt to shove his influence off me, and my shoulders twitch in a physical manifestation.

I sit up at my full height, pulling back my shoulders and sticking my nose in the air.

"Not this again! When Harry? When could he have hidden a Horcrux in Hogwarts? It simply doesn't make sense."

"You're wrong," he spits out before I've even finished.

"I'm right," I snap back just as quickly. 

Harry shoots me an irritated glare, coming to a halt five feet in front of us.

"Why don't we just search the school?" Ron asks, eyes flicking between Harry and I with his brows squished in confusion. "We spend ten months a year there. Start in the chamber and work our way up."

"Thank you, Ron!" Harry cries, throwing out his arm in a wave. "Finally, some sense."

I toss my hair over my shoulder, crossing my arms against my chest. What a laugh. Ron? Making sense? All the stress has gone to Harry's head. He's obviously delusional. 

"What do you suggest? We stab anything with an eagle logo?" I ask sarcastically. "We're at school to study and learn, remember? We can't spend all of our time searching the nooks and crannies for an unknown object."

"No," Harry shakes his head. "I can still feel a Horcrux when it's nearby." He walks to the table and picks up the locket, twisting it around in his hands.  "Even now, I can feel the evil radiating from this thing." He tightens his fist around the latched locket, the metal the size of an egg. "It's pulsing, throbbing with a heartbeat. I'll know it when we get close to another one. I'm sure of it." 

Harry looks me in the eye, and grins ear to ear.

"Besides. Come on, Mi! 'We're supposed to be studying?' That's a sorry excuse for not exploring the castle. I know you're excited about getting to retake your exams, but you and I will pass our Owls with our eyes closed this year." He jabs this thumb at Ronald. "We'll drag this one into all A's kicking and screaming if needed. We've already spent a year searching for Horcruxes. Now we've gained an almost three-year lead on Riddle. That final Horcrux is in the castle. I'm sure of it." 

"Do we all still fit under the invisibility cloak?" I ask with a smirk.

"I'll buy another," he promises, his excitement for a new adventure licking up my spine. 

Horcruxes. Horcruxes...Harry can still feel the horcruxes. But he's never been affected when we've destroyed one.

"I think we should destroy the locket," I say, and both boy's heads whip to look at me. "You can still feel when one is near, but destroying one has never affected you. It goes to reason that our first hypotheses were correct, and Voldemort doesn't know when one has been destroyed either. We should destroy them as we go. It's too big of a risk to let them fester."

"I agree with 'Mione," Ron says vehemently, looking at the locket still gripped tightly in Harry's fist. His face has gone a little green, and his lips twist up in displeasure. "I don't want that thing around my family."

You sure? Harry looks at me, his eyes searching and his phantom touch caressing through my brain.

Stab the bitch I assure him. 

Harry drops the locket to the floor and steps away from it, throwing out his open palm. Ron and I both rise from our seats at the table, taking a giant step back. I've seen this particular party trick before. I don't need an up-close performance this time. 

"Winky, Kreacher, Dobby," Harry says, never taking his eyes from the locket on the floor. "Please take cover. Kreacher, today you honor your final promise to your master. We destroy the locket in Regulus's name."

"Thank you, Master," Kreacher croaks, dropping into a bow so low his nose touches the ground. Dobby, who is no idiot despite his overly enthusiastic personality, grabs Kreacher by the tea towel and hauls him behind a bookcase. Dobby has known Harry long enough now to realize that if Harry says duck, you'd better get out of the way.

The sword of Gryffindor comes flying into the library, still in its scabbard, and Harry plucks it from the air when it gets close enough. The locket starts to wail, shuddering and hissing from the floor.

"Anyone care to take a whack?" Harry asks jokingly, still staring at the pulsating necklace on the floor.

"All yours, Mate," Ron assures him, then takes my wrist in his hand and pulls me a little behind him. I roll my eyes at the needless gesture but allow him to partially shield me all the same. The cup's destruction was a swift one. It didn't put up much resistance. Maybe it's because the locket has been stored around humans and has soaked up some of our emotions. I don't know. But even in the last timeline, the locket put up one hell of a fight. At least according to Harry.

Open he hisses in parseltongue, and I don't honestly think that necessary. Or maybe it is. I don't know. I'll have to go through the list of Horcruxes and compare how they were all destroyed. I need Harry to show me the memory of how the one was removed from him.

Get it together, Granger. You're rambling in your own head.

A vision of a woman rises from the locket, bare and beautiful and frightening to behold. I can't see the front of her face from where I'm straining behind Ron's giant shoulders, but from the mass of curls trailing past her back, there's no doubt that the image can only be of me. She opens her mouth to speak, but before she gets more than a word out, Harry pulls the sword from the scabbard, dropping the leather uselessly to the floor, then lifts the blade in a two-handed grip over his head. With a yell that makes my throat hurt, he slams the sword into the locket, and it's screams rival his own. 

Harry falls to one knee with the effort, his chest heaving, and his eyes closed tight. Our head throbs, our scar stings, and my fingers drift to the phantom mark on my forehead before I realize that Harry has done the same. 

Shit.

His eyes open, then go wide as saucers, when he sees me rubbing at the scar I don't have.

Double shit.

The perimeter sensors we set up at the floo and the front door start to chime, and we jerk like we've been struck by lightning. 

Harry yanks the sword from the floor, scrambling across the carpet to put the blade back in its scabbard. Harry shoves the destroyed Horcrux into his pocket, then trips over his feet in his hurry to stand while sliding the scabbard across his shoulders, disillusioning the entire thing as he goes.

"Hello the house," echoes into the library through a magically enhanced voice.

Harry brings his wand to his throat.

"In the library," he answers. 

Bugger. I don't recognize the voice!

Ron and I hurry to the table, quickly piling books so that the tamest are on top. I accio all my notebooks and flip them around until my voldy papers are on bottom and my Bond Mate folder is on top.

Ron yanks open From the Chessboard to the Battlefield. Battle Tactics for the Defensive Wizard and falls into a chair.

Harry takes a seat, and I lean backwards in mine and toss my feet into his lap. So long as no one notices the sweat on Ron's brow and that Harry's hair is especially untidy, we shouldn't appear suspicious to whomever dropped by for a visit. 

My eyes widen when I catch the hemline of soft lilac robes before I see the man himself.

Well there goes that theory. 

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry says in a shocked voice, flipping closed the book he was pretending to read. "Remus and Sirius have gone out," he supplies without being asked, rising to his feet. 

The Headmaster has a stack of books in his arms, and his eyes are twinkling in the way they do. I'm still not convinced he doesn't do it by magic.

"Harry, my boy!" Professor Dumbledore says with a smile, "What auspicious timing then, as I was hoping to speak with you.

He moves the books to rest in his left hand, while holding out his right to Harry. Harry's eyes flick to mine, and with a little shove through the bond, I encourage him to take the Headmaster's grip.

"Mrs. Potter-Black," Professor Dumbledore addresses me, bending into a tiny bow. "I come bearing gifts, in congratulations of your new union."

He presents the stack of books in my direction, and I rise from my seat to take them with a pleased smile.

"Headmaster! Thank you so much, but you shouldn't have," I say. Excitement is already bubbling in my belly, and I flash the elder man a smile before placing them on the table and immediately searching through them.

"Notice how she doesn't try to give them back, though," Harry jokes, and Dumbledore's chest rises with laughter.

Prats. All of them. 

Dumbledore asks Ron a question about the Chudley Cannons' chances this season, and I tune out their voices as I examine my new haul. I stifle my gasp as I recognize more than one of the titles.

Anything good?

I look up at Harry, who has joined Professor Dumbledore on the couch. His eyes flick to me, before appearing to give his attention back to the conversation.

He gave me Tales of the Beedle the Bard again. 

Harry's shoulders twitch.

We're working in a new timeline. Harry whispers into my head. We'll check later if the symbol of the Hallows is still hidden in its pages.

The next gasp escapes on a hiss, and all three boys turn to look at me.

"Hogwarts a History, First edition!" I squeal.

I can't contain my excitement as I clutch the ancient text to my chest. I look over at the men lounging in the sitting area.

"Headmaster! However, did you find it?"

Harry rises from the couch, coming to my side to look over my shoulder. I know he couldn't care less about the book, but I appreciate the support as he squeezes my shoulder and grins at me.

"It was from my personal collection," Professor Dumbledore says with a smile. "Now it is yours." He holds up his hand when I immediately start to protest.  "I'm old, my dear. It gives me great pleasure to know that such a treasure will be cared for and loved in the same manner as I did for so many years. Perhaps even more than I have. Please, accept it from me to you."

Harry squeezes my shoulder, and I swallow back my tears. I have to clear my throat to talk without crying.

"Thank you," I choke out, and Harry cups the side of my face, offering me his support and comfort. "It's my favorite book," I squeak through a watery smile, and the Headmaster beams at me with happiness. 

"Wonderful. Well, I won't trespass on your time much longer. I just have one more item of business, then I'll let you return to your studies."

The way Professor Dumbledore emphasizes the word studies, twiddling his thumbs over his crossed knees, tells me that he's well aware that we weren't studying. Not really. But as he proved a few days ago, the older man seems perfectly at ease allowing us our privacy.

If only others would follow his suit.

"I'm at your disposal," Harry says, and I nod in agreement.

"Since the ownership of Number Twelve has passed into your capable hands, I would like to request your permission to continue using the premises as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry starts at the unexpected question.

"Of course, Sir." He replies automatically. 

"Anything you need," I assure him.  

"Wonderful!" he enthuses, rising to his feet. "Then if it is convenient for you, we will host a full meeting on Tuesday night next. Your unexpected change in circumstances, though joyous indeed, has adjusted some of our priorities."

"You mean you no longer need your lackies to spy on me under invisibility cloaks," Harry says dryly, and I elbow him as discreetly as I can. I don't care how angry he is, he can't be so disrespectful to a teacher!

Rather than get upset, the Headmaster smirks even wider.

"Quite," he says. "It'll be a full debriefing, with almost every member of the Order. Except those that are out of our reach at the moment, such as Hagrid. It'll be a houseful, but Molly is at her best with mouths to feed and bellies to fill. I will leave her a note. It should keep her occupied for the next several days at least."

Ron's snort of hilarity isn't missed on anyone. He blushes fiercely, the tops of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. 

Dumbledore turns his attention to Ronald, who, if possible, blushes even brighter.

"That's just a good idea, is all I'm saying," he stutters out. "Keeping Mum busy."

It's Harry's turn to snort.

Dumbledore turns his steady gaze on me.

"If it is acceptable with you, Mrs. Potter-Black, I would like to announce your Binding to those that were not with us the other night. Beyond the fact that it is a momentous occasion. When the time is right, I'm sure all of the Wizarding world will no doubt celebrate in the knowledge that a pair of Bonded Mates walk the earth again, and Wizarding Britain can claim them as our own. But, it is essential that the Order understands the significance of your attachment, and what all is at stake."

His eyes narrow on Harry, who stands to his fullest height. His fingers are running insistently up and down the side of my neck, and I'd be willing to bet he doesn't even realize that he's doing it.

"I'm sure it isn't lost on you, Harry."

I try to reach out to him through the bond, but his face is blank, and all I find is dead space where his heart and mind should be open to me.

"She's not a weapon to be used, Dumbledore," he says in a voice so hard it sends chills up my spine. Ron rises from his chair and comes to stand at Harry's back.

"No," Professor Dumbledore says, his voice heavy and sincere. "You are right, as usual. She's not a weapon. She's your strength, and we must protect that at every turn. It's imperative that the others know about the Bond, so that we all understand what is at risk, should Voldemort win."

Harry is so still; I can't even be sure he's breathing. Except for his fingers, which continue to slowly roll up and down my neck. I hate being the only one sitting when two of the most powerful men currently alive are having a staring contest with me in between them, but I'm not at all convinced Harry would let me stand if I tried. Instead, I reach my hand up and cover his with mine, halting his trail on my skin.

Dumbledore breaks his stare, turning his eyes to me and smiling softly.

"That will be fine, Headmaster. I have no problem sharing the news with the rest of the Order. It's under Fidelius anyway. It'll stay safe enough for now."

It won't stay a secret forever, no matter what Harry thinks or desires. I, for one, don't want it to. I am Harry Potter's soulmate. It's a fact I'm rather proud of. 

"Fine," Harry says through clenched teeth. Then his fingers tighten on my neck so quickly it makes me flinch. "Will Snape be here?"

I give Harry a bemused expression, and Dumbledore loses his playful smile.

"Of course," he says with a tilt of his chin. "Professor Snape, Harry, is an integral part of—"

"That man is not welcome in my home," Harry cuts him off, and Dumbledore jerks in a startled sort of way, taken aback by the darkness in Harry's tone.

"Harry," Dumbledore tries to coax, removing his hands from up the opposite sleeves where they've been resting. Harry shakes his head, moving out from behind my chair. Ron steps up and takes his place, and I do not like this at all. 

A, that Harry feels like he needs room to move, and B, that Ron just stepped right up as if he was given an order to guard me. Which he probably was when I wasn't around. B, How pointless is that since Ron can't even use magic outside of Hogwarts without getting in trouble? Boys are just so stupid sometimes!

I huff and stand up, but Ron steps in front of me again.

The nerve of them!

"For as long as I'm alive," Harry growls, "that man will never step foot inside my home. The next time I see him, I plan on running him through with my sword!"

Professor Dumbledore takes a step back, aghast at the steadiness of Harry's words.

"Harry! You cannot simply kill the man just because you do not like him. I trust Severus Snape with my life. With your life, which I hold in much higher regard than my own. He has proven his dedication to the cause over and over again. I can't imagine where this is coming from."

Harry doesn't so much as move but seems to swell in size and power.

"Then you're as senile as Fudge thought you were," Harry says with venom.

"Harry!" I gasp, taking a step forward, but Ron grabs my wrist and holds me back. He gives his head a violent shake, and I all but hear him begging me not to get in the middle.

"The only cause Snape is dedicated to is his own, and you and Riddle both are too sure of your own superiority to realize it. He'll play each of you until a sure winner is apparent;then he'll declare his undying devotion to the side that rises victorious. I wouldn't trust him with the life of a Blast Ended Skewt, let alone that of my wife. And that's what you're asking me to do. Put Hermione's life in his hands. I won't do it, Sir."

Professor Dumbledore's face is flat, his chin is pointed down. He doesn't look angry. He almost looks pitying, and that only stokes the fire burning in Harry's gut.

"You're wrong, Harry. I—"

"I know. I know," Harry cuts him off again. He takes a step closer. "You trust Snape with your life. Tell me, then, why do you trust a man who spends his time as the arm candy of our enemy? What lies could Snape possibly have told you that convinced the smartest, and the most powerful Wizard who ever lived, he was a person to be trusted."

The Headmaster almost smiles at that. Almost.

"My secrets are mine, and mine alone, Harry. Unless you'd like to share yours as well?" He tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over Harry in a cursory fashion. "Tit for tat, as they say? What secrets are you harboring, that make you so sure that Severus Snape is not to be trusted." 

"Harry!" I hiss. "Don't!" 

I lunge for Harry again, both physically and mentally, but Ron grabs me around the waist, and Harry has a tight grip on his mind. 

He takes another step closer.

"One of these days, in the not-so-distant future, you're going to find yourself disarmed and wounded and begging Snape for help, and he'll kill you without a second thought. He'll kill you with hatred and revulsion in his eyes, with as little trouble as whispering a curse. That man will be the death of you, Headmaster. If you continue down this path with him, he will end your life."

Triumph flares behind the old man's eyes so swiftly I'm almost convinced it was a trick of the lights, except that Harry flinches in front of me.

He saw it too.

The Headmaster shakes out his arms, peaceful and smiling while the rest of us are trembling with anger and fear. He dips his hands back into the opposite arms of his robes.

"Harry, my boy. I have loved you since the day you were born, but you are your father's son. Your own prejudices have blinded you so that you cannot see what is right in front of your nose. Maybe instead of being concerned with his actions, you should ask yourself why. Because I trust Severus Snape with my life. Now more than ever. Instead of righting what you see as my wrongs, you have proven to me that no matter what, Severus Snape will do whatever it is that needs to be done to ensure the side of the light rises victorious. Even damning his own soul to hell."

Nausea roils through my stomach.

Again, I don't think it's mine.

Professor Dumbledore pivots on his heel, giving me a small bow.

"Mrs. Potter-Black. Do enjoy the books. It would please me to hear your thoughts on any of the tomes that are of interest to you. I shall anxiously await your owl. Mr. Weasley, give your mother my love."

Without another word to Harry, the Headmaster strides from the library. 

Harry stands there a beat or two longer, then he follows the man out, taking the opposite direction down the hallway