Without knowing where the loo was, Harry’s first instinct was to run out the front door and immediately wretch amongst the weeds and foliage to the side of the house. He heaved until he couldn’t anymore, and then heaved some more. Harry jumped as he felt a hand smooth down his back and a quiet voice murmuring in his ear that everything was going to be ok. He quickly went from physically ill and horrified to indignant and beyond angry. How dare someone try to tell him that everything was going to be ok? Did they just find out they had a piece of Voldemort’s soul living in them? Nothing was ok!

Harry didn’t realize he had screamed his last thought out loud at Remus, who was trying to comfort him. The hand disappeared and then was replaced by a larger, warmer hand that snaked to his shoulder and pulled him around against a chest that smelt of herbs and sandalwood; his father.

“I know you’re upset right now, Harry, but we will figure this out. I promise you. I will not let any harm come to you,” Severus said quietly but firmly as he steered his son back into the dilapidated old house and over to the sofa. 

“You can’t promise me that. We can’t even figure out how to destroy the Horcruxes in inanimate objects, how the hell are we supposed to destroy the one in me without destroying me too?”

“We’ll find a way, Harry. Even if it kills me, I will find a way to remove the Horcrux without having to sacrifice you in the process. That is not an option. Please calm down, son. We need to get back to Headquarters,” Severus said, his last comment directed more towards Remus than Harry. He glanced over his shoulder at Lucius, who had stupefied Pettigrew in Harry’s panic.

“We need his decision first, Severus. This was part of the plan, he can’t ignore it now because he received some upsetting news,” Lucius pointed out, grimacing at the slumped over form of the Death Eater before him. For someone who had very recently been the man’s comrade, Lucius certainly seemed to harbour a great amount of dislike for Wormtail.

Harry was staring at the man who had sold his parents out to Voldemort, the way his still plump body contradictorily looked wasted and frail. He felt a sense of pity for this man, but that did not curb his anger. He wouldn’t be a killer, but he would also not set his parents’ dooms-bringer free again. Harry stood and approached the man, waving his wand to awaken Wormtail once more. Clasping the older man’s pudgy hand in his own shaking hand, Harry spoke firmly.

“I release you from the Life Debt owed to me, without the forfeit of your life. I ask that you willingly turn yourself in to the Ministry and take the punishment that you rightfully deserve, and help to clear Sirius’ name of the crimes you committed.”

Peter was shaking and whimpering, fat tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. It was unclear if he was glad for the gift of keeping his life, or mourning the fact that he would spend the rest of that miserable life in Azkaban as per Harry’s request as a condition of releasing him from the Life Debt.

“I will do all of those things,” Peter croaked, his fingers clenching involuntarily around Harry’s smaller, youthful fingers. His regret and remorse for all of the pain he had caused this poor child surged through him, and he met the greenest eyes he had ever seen aside from Lily’s. “I’m so sorry…”

Harry stepped away from the pathetic man, dropping his hand as if he was diseased. Still holding the older man’s gaze, he set his mouth in a tight line. “I don’t forgive you, and I never will. I hope that guilt eats you alive until the day you die.”

Remus has pulled Harry even further from the man, pulling him against his chest and he felt a pang of sadness for the obvious hatred Harry had for this traitorous man. They would have to have a talk about grudges and anger soon. “Come, Harry. Let’s go home.”

“I’ll make sure this scum makes it directly to the Ministry. You all go on back to Headquarters. You’ve been away from the protection for too long already,” said Lucius, training his wand on Wormtail once more. He muttered a spell that sounded nothing like Latin and gave a horrible smirk. “That’ll keep you from transforming – ever again.”

S~S~S~S

As soon as Harry, Remus and Severus got back to Grimmauld Place, Draco latched onto Harry, asking questions, smoothing down his messy hair and kissing him. A sense of claustrophobic panic swept over Harry, and before he realized what he was doing, he pushed Draco away and ran to their shared room, locking himself inside.

His breathing was shallow and rapid as he threw himself onto his bed. He couldn’t think about anything but the fact that somewhere inside of him, a piece of Voldemort lurked, poisoning his very being. He was impure, tainted, diseased, and unclean. Harry had never felt like such a stranger in his own skin before.

What felt like hours later, there was a gentle knock on the door. Harry ignored it, expecting that it was a very offended Draco, coming to ask him more questions he had no desire to answer. A loud click resounded in the room as someone used an unlocking spell on the door, the hinges creaking and whining as the door slowly opened.

“Harry? What’s wrong? Draco is horribly upset; he thinks you hate him. Professor Snape said you’ve had a massive shock, but he wouldn’t tell us any more than that. Are you ok?” Hermione’s gentle voice came closer, and Harry felt the edge of the bed dip as she sat down beside him.

“He’s inside me,” Harry croaked after a long silence. His voice sounded dead and void of emotion, not betraying the vast pool of utter pain, horror and self-disgust flooding through the Gryffindor.

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione in a shaking voice. It was almost as though she already knew, but was afraid to ask for confirmation of her suspicions. Harry wouldn’t doubt it. Smartest witch of her age, indeed.

“I’m tainted. I’ve been putting you all in greater danger than anyone’s ever realized. Parseltongue, the visions, the odd emotions – they’re all because there’s a piece of Voldemort inside of me.”

There was a loud gasp as Hermione’s petite hand settled on his shoulder. “Oh Harry…Does this mean you’re a –”

“– Horcrux. I’m a Horcrux.” As soon as Harry uttered that horrible admission, Draco entered the room to hear it.

“What? Harry, you can’t be serious!” Draco gasped, his already pale skin tinged with grey as he swayed in the doorway. He had been worried sick about Harry, angry that he had not been allowed to go along as moral support. When they returned and Harry brushed him off, Draco had been stung, but now he understood why.

“Wormtail was under Veritaserum and the power of the Life Debt. It has to be true. We’ve been spending all this time looking for the Horcruxes, and here I’ve been, a Horcrux in disguise.”

“Look Harry, we’ll find a way to remove it. There has to be a way to exorcise the piece of soul. It’ll be alright,” Hermione tried to reassure her friend, gently rubbing Harry’s shoulder as he shuddered beside her. She had hoped that her suspicion would never come true, and had avoided ever bringing it up. She didn’t want Harry to have to go through this, but it was too late now. She hoped to Merlin there was a way, and she was damn determined to find it.

Harry laughed humourlessly, giving Hermione tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what everyone keeps saying. If there was a way though, don’t you think we would have found it by now? We can’t even find a way to destroy the Horcruxes; what are the chances of finding a way to just remove one?”

“We’ve only been looking for ways to destroy the Horcruxes, not remove them. We could be looking in the wrong places. We will find a way, Harry, I promise. You know we would never let anything happen to you. Nothing has changed, do you hear me? You’re still our Harry,” Hermione said firmly as she pulled Harry into a tight hug, feeling him shake with suppressed emotion. “In fact, I’m going to start looking now. You need to get some rest; you’ve had a long day.”

After Hermione had left, Draco closed the bedroom door and joined Harry sitting on the edge of their bed. Harry seemed to be avoiding his eyes, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. After what felt like hours, Draco reached over and grasped Harry’s hand in his own. It was cold and shaking. “Please look at me, Harry.”

Harry gulped as he heard the hurt in Draco’s voice. He had not meant to push Draco away, but he couldn’t even stand to be in his own skin, let alone punish Draco with his presence. He finally looked up at the blonde as Draco squeezed his hand encouragingly. The Slytherin’s eyes were an icy blue-grey, swimming with concern and love. Harry felt his stomach squirm. How could Draco want to be anywhere near him?

“Hermione is right, Harry. We’ll find a way. I was so worried about you, sitting in the kitchen driving Molly crazy by rearranging her spice rack alphabetically and by strength in flavour. She almost stunned me when I wouldn’t sit down. You know I will always love you, right? No matter what happens Harry, you’ll always have my heart. Never doubt that.”

Harry bit his lip to keep it from trembling as he blinked back the moisture. No one seemed to realize just how much danger he was putting them in. They were all willing to find a way to fix him. He had never felt quite as loved as he did in that moment, and finally slumped sideways into Draco’s arms, sighing in relief as the blonde held him tightly.

“I love you too.”

S~S~S~S

The next week was spent with everyone frantically flipping through books in the library. There had been a tense moment when Harry asked what had been done with Pettigrew, but Lucius eventually admitted to dropping him off at the Ministry the night before, where Pettigrew would be forced to confess his crimes against the Potters and the twelve muggle deaths that Sirius had been accused of. At lunch that day, the Daily Prophet ran an exclusive on Peter Pettigrew’s rise from the ‘dead’ and his confessed betrayal of his once close friends. Sirius Black had been cleared of all charges, posthumously.

Remus had taken a little time to himself to come to terms with what would have been Sirius’ freedom if the man had been alive. Harry himself was too busy stressing out over the blackness that lived deep inside him to celebrate too much, but had indeed sat quietly in the drawing room in recognition of what he had lost, and how bittersweet justice could be.

“Harry?”

Hermione had snuck quietly into the drawing room, reluctant to bother Harry when she knew he was upset. She had been doing research on Tom Riddle’s life, trying to discern what else the mad man may have turned into a Horcrux when she came across a picture of an old orphanage. She looked through her notes from when Harry had explained his forays into the pensieve with Dumbledore and, searching through old Daily Prophets, may have figured out where another Horcrux could be hidden.

“Hey Hermione. Have I been gone that long? Sorry, I just needed a minute,” Harry said distractedly. In his lap was a very nice black cloak with a filigree clasp. His hands were tangled in the material as he stared at the Black Family tapestry.

Hermione sat down next to the raven haired boy and frowned, noticing the cloak Harry was clinging to. “It’s alright. I was just checking on some facts about Tom Riddle when he was younger, and I think I may have come up with another place for a Horcrux, and there’s a death that would fit with it.”

That got Harry’s attention quickly. Even if the Horcrux within himself couldn’t be removed so easily, at least there was another he could focus on for the time being. “Where? Have you told my dad and Remus?”

“Not yet. Remus went to take a little time for himself, and then Professor Snape said he was going to check on him. Draco and Ron are in the library still looking up ways to exorcise the Horcrux from you.”

“Don’t waste time on it anymore. We need to figure out a way to destroy these damn things, or finding them will have done us no good at all,” Harry insisted, feeling his stomach squirm at the reminder of what was currently residing in his body at that very moment.

Hermione sighed heavily and clasped Harry’s hand with her own, her expression one of mingled understanding and worry. “I told the boys we needed to prioritize and take this one step at a time. I think we should find all of the Horcruxes first, then focus on finding a way to destroy them, including your scar.”

Harry instinctively reached up and rubbed a finger across the raised skin of the jagged scar marring his forehead. “My scar?”

“It’s just a theory, but I think that’s where the Horcrux is. It makes sense when you think of all the ways you were affected mentally by Voldemort’s first attempt on your life. The connection between your minds, your ability to speak Parseltongue – all tied into mental abilities.”

Harry frowned as he rubbed the scar a bit harder, wishing his could rub the cursed thing away for good. Hermione’s theory made entirely too much sense, and it actually explained why his and Voldemort’s mind shared such a strong connection. “Well, I guess we’ll figure that out later. Let’s go find Moony and my Dad so you can tell them what you found.”

S~S~S~S

Hermione had four different aged and torn Daily Prophets strewn across one of the long tables in the library, a spell essentially highlighting important information she had discovered. What surprised Harry, though, was the stone pensieve that was so achingly familiar sitting innocently besides the Prophets.

“Where did you find that, Hermione?” Harry asked as he skirted around the pensieve, somehow afraid to touch it because it looked so fragile.

“Dumbledore left it to Professor Snape in his Will, Harry. He also left quite a lot of things for you, including the Sword of Gryffindor. The Ministry invoked its right to examine Dumbledore’s bequests, but they sent them about a week ago. Didn’t you know? He left a rather astonishing amount of memories along with it as well,” Hermione said, pointing to an ornate carved wooden box sitting on one of the chairs pulled away from the table.

Harry frowned, wondering what else Dumbledore had left him. No one had seen fit to tell Harry that Dumbledore had left him anything, let alone the fact that the bloody Ministry had taken possession of all of it. Just as Harry was about to start ranting about not being told anything, The Potions and Defence Professors joined Harry and Hermione at the table, Ron and Draco trailing along from the other side of the library.

“Why didn’t you tell me Dumbledore had left me stuff in his Will?” Harry snapped at his father, who looked rather taken aback at the sudden venomous attack after spending nearly an hour trying to console his distraught husband.

The stone pensieve was mocking Severus from the table, and he suddenly remembered Minerva telling him that the pensieve had been left to him, but seized by the Ministry. He sighed as he sat down in one of the chair surrounding the table. “To be quite honest Harry, I had completely forgotten. The Headmistress told me about Albus’ Will very soon after informing us of his death, and in the panic and hustle that was going on, it was pushed to the back of my mind. I’m sorry. Minerva dropped this stuff off a couple of days ago; I had not even had the chance to go through it yet.” He glared at Hermione, who blushed and looked chagrined at being caught out.

“I’m sorry, sir. I saw the pensieve while grabbing a book to look up Tom Riddle’s orphanage and I remembered Harry telling us about the memory Dumbledore showed him of the orphanage. In fact, I think there might be a Horcrux there. The Headmistress of Wool’s Orphanage, Loretta Brooks, was murdered about a couple of months after Tom Riddle graduated from Hogwarts. Her killer was never found, but an early version of what appears to be the Dark Mark was found over the orphanage. The only reason I found anything about it was because the Daily Prophet reported the odd symbol in the sky over the Muggle orphanage immediately following the murder, suggesting a Witch or Wizard had killed the elderly woman.”

“Is it possible that this orphanage is still around? Tom Riddle would have been a resident more than fifty years ago; the place could have been demolished by now,” Remus said, his expression doubtful of Hermione’s theory.

“I’m not sure if the orphanage is there anymore or not, but it’s worth some investigation, isn’t it? We’ve got no other leads, and this has a death associated with it that would be perfect for a Horcrux. Think about it; Tom Riddle despised his Muggle heritage, and the orphanage would only stand as a reminder to him. He’d want some sort of revenge, and I’m sure he was not fond of the Headmistress, as she was most likely not fond of him either,” said Hermione with a shrug.

Harry sat down beside his father, his anger over Dumbledore’s Will shrinking away at the possibility of finding another Horcrux. “When Dumbledore showed me the memory of him delivering Tom’s Hogwarts letter, Ms. Brooks practically begged Dumbledore to take him away, and was upset when Dumbledore told her he’d have to return for Summer holiday. She went over his disciplinary file, and he was a hell of a trouble maker even back then. I’m positive Tom hated that woman.”

Severus shared a looked with his husband, both of them in agreement that Hermione was right – they had no other leads and nothing to lose by investigating this one. If they did find another Horcrux, this would be the last one, which meant they could focus on removing the Horcrux from Harry and destroying the rest of them. It was better than nothing.

“Does the Prophet say where Wool’s Orphanage was located?”

“London, but nothing more descriptive than that. If I had access to Muggle city records, I may be able to find out if the orphanage is still there,” Hermione suggested, knowing she’d be the best one to search through Muggle documents.

“Kingsley might be able to get you access through the Muggle Liaison Department. There’s a meeting tonight to discuss the information Pettigrew gave us.”

“No! You can’t tell the entire Order about the Horcruxes, Dad!” Harry argued, wondering when his father had lost his bloody mind. The last thing he needed was the entire Order skirting around him as if he had some horrible contagious disease.

“I’m not going to reveal the specifics, just let the Order know we’ve received valuable information. Also, Lucius questioned Pettigrew a bit more before he took him to the Ministry, and he revealed a few more things, like where some of the Death Eater safe houses are, and Voldemort’s last known location. We kidnapped Wormtail from a temporary strong hold, which the Dark Lord was getting ready to abandon. Pettigrew unfortunately did not know for sure which of the safe houses Voldemort was taking over next,” Severus revealed. He had not told his son about the additional questioning, and feared that Harry was going to fly off the handle again about information being withheld from him. Thankfully, the boy simply nodded, relaxing after his brief panic.

“Until we can get these records and go through them, keep researching ways to destroy the Horcruxes and how to exorcise them. That’s really all we can do for now,” said Remus, the desperate edge in his voice causing Severus to reach over and gently squeeze his hand under the table. They had both had a tense moment over Sirius being exonerated, but they had worked it out quickly enough.

The couple had vowed to not let their problems drag out into the fights they had become recently in order to keep themselves sane and together. Harry had helped them realize that they needed a change before their daughter arrived, because things were bound to get even more difficult with an infant around. Severus had had a slight panic attack, wondering what on Earth they were doing, bringing another child into this fucked up world. Remus had soothed his worries with kisses and assured him that everything would turn out just fine. The baby wasn’t due for another couple of months. Hopefully there would be no war to worry about anymore by the time their baby girl arrived.

As the group started to split up, Aurora entered the library, returning the greetings she received from the room, hugging Harry back when he approached her. Her smile did not reach her eyes, however, and Severus and Remus were immediately on alert.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to St. Mungo’s to see a Healer. I should be back really soon.”

Remus stood and offered his seat to the pregnant woman. For a second it looked as though she would refuse, but she took the chair anyways as she realized that she would not be able to keep anything from these men.

“Is everything alright? I thought your next appointment wasn’t until next Monday,” Severus asked, trying to keep the slight edge of panic out of his voice. After having his episode earlier and reaffirming his decision to have this baby, he couldn’t bear it if there was something wrong with the child or the mother.

Aurora sighed and gently rubbed her protruding belly, her violet robes stretched over the ever-growing bump. “I’ve been feeling a little off the last couple of days, and this morning in the shower, I felt the strangest sensation. It was as though the baby simply kicked, but afterwards, a felt a strong tingle travel through my whole body. It frightened me and I almost slipped.”

There was immediate panic as Severus and Remus both crowded around the Astronomy Professor, drawing the attention of the group of teenagers on the other side of the room.

“Is everything ok, Dad?” Harry asked tentatively as he took in the worried expressions on his parents’ face. Aurora looked more exasperated than worried, which helped curb Harry’s own sudden flare of panic, but not by much.

“Yes, the baby and I are ok. I just experienced something strange this morning that I thought I should talk to a Healer about. Your parents are simply overreacting.”

“Overreacting? Aurora, you nearly fell in the shower because the baby kicked! You could have injured yourself and the baby. I think we have plenty of reason to worry. Is this not something typical of pregnancy?” Remus asked, looking as though he felt guilty for not knowing the typicality of pregnancy.

“Magical pregnancies can be very different from Muggle. Am I right in thinking you felt the pins and needles when she kicked, Professor?” Hermione asked knowingly, gaining a few curious looks from the people around her. Trust Hermione to know all about pregnancy as well.

“Yes. The Healer said not to expect that until around twenty-six weeks or so, and I’m only fifteen weeks along. I’m supposed to start taking baths only around twenty weeks for just that reason,” Aurora explained, thoroughly confusing all of the men around the table with all the talk of weeks, though Hermione seemed to understand perfectly.

“I read that extremely magically powerful parents can produce even more magically powerful children. Maybe she’s developing her magical core earlier than normal?” Hermione suggested.

Aurora nodded with a smile, rubbing her baby bump in small, fond circles. “Those were my thoughts exactly, but I thought I would go for a check-up, just in case.”

“You can feel the baby’s magical core developing?” Severus asked, wishing he had taken the time to read up on magical pregnancies. He mentally added it to his to-do list.

“Yes, but as I said, it’s a little early for the little one to be causing spikes in my magic. I suppose I am doomed to baths for the duration of the pregnancy. Forgive me, Hermione, but I’ll probably need your help getting out the further along I get,” Aurora said with a slight grimace.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “That’s quite alright, Professor. I’d be happy to help.”

“I think we should escort you to St. Mungo’s. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be going off on your own, and we would like to be there with you to make sure you and the baby are ok,” Remus said, gently gripping the Astronomy Professor’s shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose. You two are going to be more doting than even I will be,” Aurora teased as she stood with the solicitous help of Remus.

Severus turned to the teenagers around the table, specifically Harry. “We should be back soon for the meeting. If Lucius comes out of his self-induced exile, let him know that the meeting has been moved up from eight to seven.”

Harry nodded, moving forward to hug each of his parents and Aurora for good measure. “Please be careful, and come back in one piece.”

After the three Professors left, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco all trekked back over to the table covered with notes out of the Cartus Animarum, translated into more understandable language by Hermione. They spent a good half an hour reading and making more notes, but nothing of any use had come to light so far. Harry set his quill aside as scrubbed roughly at his face, feeling the horrible ache of disgust creep back in on him from before. Knowing his friends would start to worry over him if they saw his melancholy expression, he begged off the search by claiming he needed a shower, feeling guilty when he suggested Draco stay in the library. He needed some time alone to think and fret.

Harry turned the tap on in the shower until the water was almost unbearably hot. As the bathroom filled with steam, Harry undressed and set his clothes aside. When he turned back towards the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused. Wiping away the fog that had collected on the mirror already, Harry lifted his fringe and glared at the jagged, pink scar that had essentially sealed his fate. He felt the fear and anger grip his heart as he angrily pulled his glasses off and threw them in the basin of the sink, turning quickly away from the mirror and his dark expression to climb into the steaming hot shower.

Harry had already been on a downward spiral for a while now. If he was honest with himself, and he rarely ever was, he’d been getting more and more depressed since he found out they’d be living in Grimmauld Place for the summer holidays. Add two classmates dying, nearly getting your father killed, failing to figure out how to destroy the Horcruxes, and then finding out that you’re a Horcrux yourself…Harry was very close to hitting rock bottom, and the part that scared him the most was that he wasn’t really that scared at all.

He was starting to feel more numb than anything. After the conversation with Wormtail, Harry knew without a doubt that the Horcrux within him could not be destroyed while he stayed intact and alive. It wasn’t plausible. And while they still weren’t sure just how they were going to destroy the Horcruxes, Harry was pretty sure he knew how to get rid of the one within him.

A piece of Voldemort’s soul was fused with his own. No matter what Moony and his father tried to convince him of, he was sure of that fact. It made too much sense not to be true. The connection he’d always had to the monster, his ability to speak Parseltongue, and the fact that Voldemort couldn’t bear to be in contact with a splintered piece of his own soul when he attempted to possess Harry at the Ministry – it was clear that Harry’s soul and the sliver of Voldemort’s within him were not separate things. It had become a part of him, along with some of the creature’s abilities.

The Prophecy suddenly became crystal clear to Harry, and he wondered why he’d ever had trouble understanding it before. Of course neither could live while the other survived. If neither of them could live if one of them survived, then they both must die. It was so easy, so simple, so unfair.

Hadn’t Harry sacrificed enough for the bloody people already? He’d lost his parents, was nearly killed himself, had a piece of Voldemort’s soul attached to his own soul, had a horrible, hate-filled childhood, battled the monster and his stupid minions time and again and tried to protect everyone. He’d lost Sirius, Dumbledore and Cedric, Lavender and Michael. Both Remus and Severus had spent time in hospital because of him, and he’d almost lost Draco before he’d truly found him. When would it all end? When would the world deem his price paid?

Then Harry realized that he’d never pay it in full. No matter what he did, people would still suffer and die. The only way to stop it was to stop Voldemort, and the only way he could do that, now that he had all the facts, was to die himself. It was so typical that, after everything Harry had sacrificed and given up, he’d be asked for the one thing he’d still managed to cling onto; his life.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore had known. Perhaps that was why he had assigned Harry the task of finding the Horcruxes and destroying them. He knew that eventually Harry would figure it out, and then he’d have the freedom to make his own decision on how to destroy the Horcrux within him; have someone do it for him, or take action on himself. Dumbledore’s request to only share the Horcruxes with Ron and Hermione was so obvious now. Dumbledore thought that, should Harry be unable to take the final step, his most loyal of friends would surely step up and do it for him. How poetic.

But Dumbledore had been delusional if he thought Harry would ever put this burden on someone else. Severus and Remus swore up and down that they would find a way to remove the Horcrux without harming Harry, but he knew they were only placating him. The fear and worry in Severus’ eyes as he uttered those words was enough to convince Harry that the man had no more idea how to do such a thing than Harry himself.

Harry had given in, had complied with their placations and pretended to believe them, if only to ease their troubled minds. Harry knew exactly what he had to do, but he would tell no one; not his parents, not his friends, not even Draco. This was Harry’s cross to bear, and he would get there, one way or the other.

But he had to wait. They knew all but one of the Horcruxes now, and Hermione’s research may have uncovered the very last one. Once it was found, that would be Harry’s cue. Until then, he’d nod and agree that they’d find a way, that he wouldn’t worry, that everything would work out in the end. Until then, he’d ride this downward spiral until it hit rock bottom once and for all.