There was no helping it.
After all, they were still stuck at the stage of speculation and deduction when it came to the whereabouts of the remaining two Horcruxes.
As for the monumental task of destroying the Horcruxes, it was practically impossible for Harry to accomplish at present.
His enemy was, after all, the infamous Dark Lord, while he was merely Potter—Harry Potter.
Besides, how could Voldemort possibly let others easily discover his fatal weakness?
More than once, Harry had considered that he might need to spend years, perhaps even longer, searching for the Horcruxes. He might even have to prepare himself for the possibility of never finding them before he died.
Whenever he thought of that dreadful possibility, Harry felt inexplicably anxious and afraid.
He simply could not imagine what England under Voldemort's control would look like, or how they would struggle to survive while being hunted by Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
If it dragged on for too long, would he be able to keep going?
Would Ron and Hermione be willing to keep searching for Horcruxes with him?
What if they grew tired of that life?
If he were ultimately left alone to search for Horcruxes, Harry did not even dare imagine what that would be like.
Though he had long made up his mind to spend the rest of his life destroying Voldemort, he did not actually know whether he could hold on.
One year, two years, or even longer.
Could he persevere? Harry did not know.
Although Albert had once said that the Second Wizarding War would not last very long, Harry had no confidence that he could find the Horcruxes within a short time.
"Don't worry, Harry. Things definitely won't get any worse than they are now."
Noticing the change in Harry's expression, Hermione