There was no way around it.
After all, they were still only guessing and speculating about 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 anyone 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 terrible possibility, Harry felt an inexplicable sense of anxiety and fear.
He truly could not imagine what Britain under Voldemort's control would look like, or how they would struggle to survive while being hunted by Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
If this dragged on too long, would he be able to keep going?
Would Ron and Hermione be willing to continue searching for Horcruxes with him?
What if they grew tired of that kind of life? If he ended up searching for Horcruxes alone, Harry did not dare imagine what that would be like.
Although he had long resolved to spend the rest of his life destroying Voldemort, he did not actually know whether he could endure it.
One year, two years, or even longer.
Could he keep going? Harry did not know.
Although Albert had said the Second Wizarding War would not last long, Harry had no confidence that he could find the Horcruxes in 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 softly comforted him. "Even if we really can't find those