Part One

It was late, and the prim and proper houses of Privet Drive were dark and
quiet for the night. Only the stars illuminated the neatly manicured lawns
and houses of the families that called the street home. Each family was
tucked into bed, asleep many hours as they dreamed of normal, everyday
things like the normal, everyday Muggles they were.

Except at number four.

At number four Privet Drive a light shone out of one window, breaking the
solemn darkness. But its occupant was used to disturbing the normal routine
of Privet Drive. Harry Potter was a wizard, with real magical powers, and
he couldn't sleep.

From his room on the second floor he could hear his uncle snoring loudly,
and his cousin Dudley snoring even louder. But Harry was used to their
snoring. Other things were keeping him awake this night.

Today was his seventeenth birthday, and he would be leaving the Dursley
house for the last time later that day. The magical protection Albus
Dumbledore had placed upon the house would no longer shield him there,
and there was no other reason for Harry to stay. The Dursleys hated him,
and as a seventeen-year-old wizard he was now of age. Harry would be
leaving first thing in the morning.

The thought filled him with a mixture of dread, relief, and sadness. Harry
dreaded going into the world on his own: where would he stay, how would
he get by, on his own? At the same time he hardly got along with the
Dursleys; they would be as relieved to see him go as he was himself to
leave. Finally, he felt sad, and he couldn't help but wonder why. The
Dursleys had never had a kind word for him, since the day they took him in
after his parents were murdered. He had been a burden to them his entire
life, and he knew they would be glad to be rid of the burden that was Harry
Potter at last. But it was the only home he had known for most of his life, a
place he knew had protected him for all those years. To leave even such a
place as that was sad, in a way.

But Harry at least had something to look forward to. His best friend Ron
and his father were coming to pick Harry up later that day. Harry couldn't
think of a better way to spend his seventeenth birthday than with his best
friend. The fact that they would be taking their Apparition test that same
day did not bother him at all. Harry knew he would need his Apparition
license for the weeks ahead, and he thought that being able to use magic
freely and openly was the best birthday present he could hope for.

He was also looking forward to going to the Burrow. Ron's brother Bill was
getting married, and although a wedding during a time of such sorrow and
loss seemed out of place, Harry knew it was important that life and love
continued. Voldemort and his followers could not be allowed to disrupt their
lives any more than they already had; to let them do so – to cancel the
wedding – would give them a moral victory the wizarding world could not
afford at the moment.

Harry paused in his thoughts, brought back to the sad reality that the
wizarding world was in a sorry state indeed. It had lost its greatest leader,
and Harry had lost his greatest mentor and protector: Albus Dumbledore,
murdered at the hands of Professor Severus Snape.

'Former Professor' Harry reminded himself, knowing full well Snape was
on the run and would not be returning to Hogwarts on September 1st. But
then, neither was Harry. As he had told Ron and his other best friend,
Hermione Granger, he would not be going back for his final year at school.
He had a job to do. Professor Dumbledore had charged Harry with finding
and destroying the Horcruxes Lord Voldemort had hidden, each containing a
bit of the Dark Lord's soul. 'Not Dumbledore, the prophecy,' Harry corrected
himself, and then corrected himself a second time: 'Not the prophecy, but
me.'

The prophecy Dumbledore had shared with him at the end of his fifth year
had stated that Harry had to kill Voldemort, or Voldemort would kill him,
because neither could live while the other survived. Over the course of his
sixth year Harry had finally come to understand what Dumbledore had been
telling him since he entered the Chamber of Secrets: destiny was about a
person's choice. Harry and Voldemort both had a choice in the matter, and
it was their choice to bring the terms of the prophecy to fruition. Harry
couldn't live – in safety or peace - while Voldemort was still out there,
torturing and killing people, like he had tortured the Longbottoms and killed
his Harry's own parents, James and Lily Potter. Harry had to do something,
and with Dumbledore's death he was the only one – besides Ron and
Hermione – who knew just what had to be done.

He was also the only one marked by Voldemort so many years ago with a
mysterious power the Dark Lord did not know, a power that would somehow
help Harry to defeat him. Dumbledore had named that power love, though
Harry was still not sure how he could use love to destroy Voldemort.

But Harry didn't dwell on that. He knew he had to be focused and do one
thing at a time. First he had to destroy four Horcruxes, because only then
could Voldemort truly be defeated for good. Before he set out on his
journey, Harry was going to go to the Burrow for one last golden day of
peace.

Thinking of the Burrow made Harry smile. The Burrow was his favorite
place in the world; it felt more like his home than Privet Drive ever had.
And although he had broken up with Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister,
Harry was looking forward to seeing her. He still liked Ginny, and breaking
up with her at the end of the last term didn't change his feelings. He thought
Ginny understood his reasons, perhaps more than anyone, and he hoped
seeing her again at the Burrow wouldn't be awkward. But he was worried
that he had hurt her, and that she wouldn't want to see him. Still, in his
mind, he pictured one last dance with Ginny at Bill and Fleur's wedding, and
with that peaceful thought, Harry Potter finally drifted off to sleep, still
smiling.

* * *

Harry woke suddenly, startled by a knocking at his window. His heart
thumping, he jumped out of bed and pulled his wand from under his pillow.
In his mind's eye he pictured Death Eaters attacking, somehow knowing the
protection on the house would end on his seventeenth birthday. But when he
went to the window, he found Hedwig patiently pecking on the glass, with
several other owls, each carrying a package or letter. With a quiet laugh at
his own jumpiness, Harry opened the window. The first owl in was
Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl. He zoomed around the room, a fluffy ball of
energy. And as usual, Hedwig hooted indignantly at the younger owl's
actions.

After untying the cards and packages from the owls, Harry gave each a
snack from the private stash he had hidden in his room. All of the owls
except Hedwig and Pig flew out the window back into the night. Harry sat
down on his bed and turned to opening the letters.

The first one was from Ron. Harry knew he was coming later that day, but
apparently Ron wanted to make sure:

Harry – Dad says we will be there at ten in the morning. He also said after
last time we won't be using Floo powder, and that you should tell your aunt
and uncle their fireplace is safe. We'll be doing a Side-along Apparition.
Should be good practice for the test. Happy Birthday – now we are all of
age!
Ron

The second letter was from Hermione. Ron and Hermione had both offered
to come to the Burrow with him, but Harry knew better. Having one wizard
living in the house was bad enough for the Dursleys; any more and Harry
wasn't sure he'd make it to his seventeenth birthday, magical protection or
not. Besides which, both Ron and Hermione needed to spend time with their
families and prepare for the rest of their journey. After the wedding they
would be traveling to Godric's Hollow, and Harry needed time to think,
alone, about just what that particular trip would entail.

Harry –
Happy Birthday! Good luck on your Apparition test, I know you will pass
seeing as you have already done a side-along on your own. I hope Ron
passes his as well. Just remember the three Ds. I am glad I had a chance to
visit with my parents. I have tried to explain to them everything that is
happening, but some things worry them too much and are better left unsaid.
I can't wait to see you at the Burrow. There is so much to talk about. Have
you figured out who R.A.B is yet? I am Apparating tonight and will see you
for your birthday. Have a safe trip and good luck.

Harry smiled. Only Hermione would be so worried about a test in the
middle of everything else that was going on.

The next letter was from Hagrid. Harry frowned, remembering the fire that
had destroyed most of Hagrid's house at the end of last term. Hagrid had
also been devastated by Dumbledore's death, and Harry hoped he was all
right.

Harry –
Been fixing up the house and am just about ready to move back in. Castle
life is not for me, and Fang doesn't like Ms. Norris much either.
Happy Birthday and congratulations on your coming of age. I told you
when we first met you'd be a thumping good wizard and you've proven
yourself over and over to be one indeed. Dumbledore may be gone but we
still have The Boy Who Lived. Take care, Harry. See you at Hogsmeade
Station.

Harry grimaced, knowing he wouldn't be seeing Hagrid for a long time. He
wasn't going back to Hogwarts, and Harry knew that Hagrid would be upset
and hurt.

The fourth letter was from Remus Lupin, his former professor. Harry
wondered whether Lupin was still underground with the werewolf
population after the battle at Hogwarts. Obviously such information could
not be shared by owl post, however, so Harry only hoped that Professor
Lupin would be at the Weasley wedding and would fill him in.

Harry was surprised to find letters from Neville Longbottom and Luna
Lovegood. He didn't even know when Luna's birthday was, and he had
completely forgotten that Neville's birthday was the day before his own; it
was only but chance that Voldemort had chosen Harry as the object of the
prophecy instead of Neville. Both Luna and Neville were loyal members of
the DA, the only ones who had fought the Death Eaters at the end of last
term. Harry was sad to leave them behind after all they had been through,
but he had to.

The final letter was from Ginny. Harry was surprised; he had not only
broken up with her but would be seeing her at the Burrow later that day, a
meeting he was still looking forward to but also still worried about.
Nervously he opened the letter, and instantly felt his eyes mist over.

Harry –
Happy Birthday! I know you will be here later today but I wanted you to
know before you arrived that I am not mad at you. You should be here at the
Burrow, for your birthday and for the wedding. You are a part of our family
now, no matter what happens between us. I know you want to protect me;
but do not avoid me in my own house. I hope we can talk, like we used to.
You do not have to tell me where you are going – yes, I know you are going
somewhere after the wedding – but you do have to promise me you will be
safe. And that if you need help, from the DA, from the Order, from me, you
will ask. This is not just your fight, Harry. We are all fighting against
Voldemort, and we can only win if we do it together.
I hope you like your present. Bill helped me magic it smaller for
Pigwidgeon. I wanted you to have it before you got here, if only to avoid
Fred and George and their tasteless jokes. See you soon.
Love,
Ginny

From inside a small envelope Harry first pulled a valentine. He immediately
recognized it as the same one he had received his second year, but with new
words. Harry's throat tightened, and he blushed as Ginny's poetry had
improved quite a bit. Next he pulled out a pair of socks; it was obvious
Ginny was learning to knit from Mrs. Weasley. Each sock had little hearts
on them. After the socks Harry found a picture frame shaped like a
broomstick, with a picture of him, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione in the Great
Hall. And finally Harry pulled a small stuffed hippogriff from the envelope,
which immediately blew up into a rather large one that also made strange
mewing noises that sounded nothing like Buckbeak. He burst out laughing.
Everything was perfect. Ginny knew him so well; it was a wonder he hadn't
realized it earlier.

As Harry set about cleaning up his letters and packing them away, he
absently rubbed his forehead. For some reason his scar was starting to
prickle. He frowned, thinking about how long it had been since he had felt
anything from his scar at all. After possessing him at the Ministry of Magic
at the end of his fifth year, Voldemort had closed off his mind to the strange
connection he had with Harry. Harry was glad to be rid of the mood swings
and headaches that had plagued him that year, though he knew the
connection his scar gave him to Voldemort's thoughts had proved invaluable
in helping save Arthur Weasley when he was attacked while working for the
Order. Harry wondered why Voldemort would be lowering his guard now,
and was suddenly worried something had happened. He stood still for a
moment, debating whether to send an owl, but not knowing who to send it
to.

Without warming Harry's scar exploded with pain. Clutching his head he
fell to the floor with a loud thud. Dimly he heard himself shouting, and he
tried to bite back any sound he might make to disturb the Dursleys. He did
not want them to see him like this. But as he lay on the floor moaning with
pain he heard movement in the other rooms and knew they had heard him.

Harry felt as if someone was going through his mind, violently looking for
something buried deep inside his memories. He desperately tried to
remember what little he knew about Occlumency. He had once managed to
throw Snape out of his mind, and now he concentrated with all the effort he
could muster to throw off this very different invasion.

But as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Harry lay panting on the floor,
curled up and still grasping his head. He instinctively knew that whatever
Voldemort had been looking for, he had found – and that he was no longer
safe.

Harry heard the Dursleys burst into his room. "What the bloody - " shouted
his Uncle Vernon, stopping short when he saw Harry lying on the floor. He
heard Aunt Petunia gasp, and Dudley snicker.

His entire body felt sore, and his head was pounding, but Harry forced
himself to stand up, still breathing heavy. He had to warn the Order, had to
get out of there.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Vernon practically sneered at Harry. "Are you ill?
Dudley, go back to your room, you don't want to catch whatever he's got."

Harry shook his head in spite of the pain. He didn't know what to do but he
had to try something. He picked up his wand and, summoning a happy
memory (actually the thought of leaving the Dursleys in mere hours) said
"Expecto Patronum!" A silver stag burst forth from the tip of his wand and
hovered in the room. He heard Aunt Petunia give a small screech of fright,
saw her put her arms around Dudley as if to protect him from the magic in
floating in front of their eyes.

"You know you can't – you'll be expelled – you -" Uncle Vernon sputtered,
his face turning various shades of red as he looked anywhere but at the
shining silver animal in the middle of the room.

"Shut up," said Harry wearily. The last thing he needed was his Uncle
giving him a hard time, not now. Turning to the stag, he simply said, "Get
help," and watched as it leapt out the window. Harry knew the Order sent
messages this way, but he did not know exactly how it was done. He could
only hope his way would work, and that it would last over long distances.
His best chance was that perhaps the Order was still guarding him and
someone would intercept it quickly.

Harry sank down on the bed, running his hands through his hair as he tried
to still his racing thoughts and figure out to do next. He was reminded of his
fifth year, and of the chaos that had ensued after he and Dudley had been
attacked by Dementors. His uncle was still blustering at him.

"What's going on? Why are you having funny turns? What was that, that
thing? Why are you doing – it - here?" And he pointed at Harry's wand as if
it were something disgusting.

Harry looked at him, at his Aunt. His aunt looked frightened, much as she
had two summers ago. But Harry knew this was much worse.

"We have to go," he said, standing up and addressing her. "We have to
leave, now. Someone's coming and it's not safe here anymore." He started
to gather his things, but decided there wasn't time. "We'll Apparate to the
Burrow, I can take you one at a time. We should be safe there." He didn't
care if he didn't have a license; he had to get them out of there, he couldn't
defend them alone.

"Burrow? We're not going to any burrow, we're not going anywhere, not
with you- "

"We have to LEAVE! NOW!" Harry shouted at his uncle. He turned back
to his aunt. "You don't understand – this isn't like last time! It's worse than
Dementors - Voldemort is coming!"

Aunt Petunia looked positively terrified now. She knew the name Harry had
used, and seemed to understand the implications of what Harry had just said.

"He's coming h-here? Now?" she whispered. Dudley goggled at her.

Harry nodded. "He killed my parents. He's tried to kill me several times.
He will kill you. We have to leave."

"But Dumbledore said – the house – the protection – "

Harry was surprised she remembered Dumbledore's name; but then the
headmaster had sent her a Howler the last time there had been trouble at
Privet Drive. "The magical protections on this house expired - " he looked
at his watch " - about five hours ago. I'm seventeen, I'm of age now."

"Then you are free to leave, on your own. If anyone asks for you, we'll tell
them you've left and lock the doors." Uncle Vernon was once again trying
desperately to ignore the fact that anything was wrong. Harry laughed
bitterly at his uncle's fear and ignorance of magic.

"He won't knock and he won't ask for me. Voldemort can do whatever he
wants, when he wants. And he's on his way here - "

There was a loud crack in the room. Uncle Vernon shouted, Aunt Petunia
screamed and looked ready to faint, and Dudley actually covered his eyes
and moaned. Harry turned toward the noise and shouted "Stupefy!" before
he even saw who had just Apparated into his bedroom.

Part Two

"Protego!" Harry heard the shield charm, and was glad he did. To his great surprise, he wasn't looking at a Death Eater, but his former professor, Remus Lupin. He was as rumpled and graying as ever, and had a grim look in his eyes.

"Harry, it's me! What's wrong?" Lupin completely ignored the fact that Harry had just tried to stun him; he also ignored the blustering Dursleys cowering in the doorway.

Harry couldn't believe his sense of relief. Professor Lupin would understand what was happening, and could help. Quickly he told him what had happened with his scar.

"I think Voldemort was trying to discover something about the protection on the house, and he found it. He knows I'm seventeen now and that the house is unprotected." Harry took a deep breath. "He's coming. Here."

Without a word, Lupin turned to the window and sent his own Patronus out into the night. "I've sent for help. Let's go downstairs, the other Order members will be here quickly."

"What are we going to do?' asked Harry, walking past his aunt and uncle, still standing with their mouths agape. Aunt Petunia looked terrified. "Come on," he said in an undertone to his aunt as he passed her. She nodded and followed Harry in spite of her husband's virulent protests.

Lupin waited to speak until they were downstairs. He motioned to Harry to stay in the living room with the Dursleys. "I'm going to set wards first, to buy us time should anyone attack. As soon as the Order arrives, we'll go. The Ministry can clean up any mess we leave." Harry knew he meant magical messes; there was no time to worry about what the neighbors might see.

"So you got my message then?"

Professor Lupin gave him a wan smile as he moved about the room casting wards. "Your Patronus? Yes, but it wouldn't have made it far. I suppose we should show you all how to do that, now that you are of age."

"Then how - ?"

"I was on guard in the neighborhood, so I was able to intercept it quickly."

"On guard?" asked Harry, wondering if he was being tailed again. The flashbacks to fifth year were steadily increasing.

"After the battle at Hogwarts," Harry heard an intake of breath from his Aunt Petunia, "I couldn't very well stay undercover with the werewolves," he heard her give a small shriek, "so I volunteered for guard duty tonight."

"Just tonight?" asked Harry.

Lupin nodded and continued setting the wards. " Professor McGonagall seemed to think it was necessary, given the situation. It appears she was right."

Harry was thankful she had; and he wondered how she had known. Did she know about the protection on the house? Or had Dumbledore's portrait perhaps clued her in to the protection, the prophecy? Had he told her about the Horcruxes?

Harry shook his head to clear it. "Where will we go then? Shouldn't we leave right now? What about -"

Harry didn't get to ask about the Dursleys, as there was a sudden series of loud pops outside. The house shook as the wards Lupin had barely started held back whoever had arrived.

"Quick!" hissed Lupin. "Get behind us!" He positioned himself facing the door, and Harry moved toward him. His uncle was speechless, and stood right where he was, unmoving. Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley, who was too terrified to shake her off.

Harry felt the wards being shot at; it sounded like there were multiple attackers, and he hoped the wards would hold until the Order arrived. But without warning and with a tremendous burst of light and sound the front door was blasted wide open. Eight Death Eaters strode into the house, firing jets of red light at the occupants inside.

Uncle Vernon raised his arm and began to tell them off, and was the first to be hit by burst of red light. With a surprised look on his face, he crumpled to the ground behind the couch. Aunt Petunia screamed and fell to the floor next to him, crying. Dudley stared at them, at the Death Eaters, at Harry, and ran back upstairs.

Harry found himself quickly engaged in a battle where he was outnumbered four to one. He had faced worse odds but this was somehow different; there were non-wizards to think about and protect. Instinctively, he and Lupin stood back-to-back, moving closer to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They alternated shield charms with other curses and hexes. Harry saw one Death Eater go down, stunned unconscious by a blast from Lupin; aiming carefully he disarmed a second and Lupin took him out as well. A third Death Eater began to move toward the staircase after Dudley. Harry shouted "Impedimenta!" and the man fell forward, hitting his face on the stairs.

The remaining five formed a half circle around Harry and Lupin. Harry recognized the brother and sister - the Carrows - who had attacked Hogwarts less than a month before. They all seemed to have forgotten about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, or just didn't care, as their curses were focused entirely on Harry and Lupin. To Harry's surprise, he saw Aunt Petunia grab a vase from a nearby table and throw it at a Death Eater's head. Before it could knock him unconscious, however, Amycus Carrow blasted it from the air. With a sneer, he then turned on Aunt Petunia, who ducked behind the couch as a jet of red light flew towards her. It hit the cushions instead, sending clouds of white cotton into the air throughout the living room.

The Death Eater continued advancing on Aunt Petunia, leaving Harry and Lupin to face the remaining four. Harry tried to fire several curses at her aggressor, but he was so busy with the four others advancing on him and Lupin that his aim was off.

"Aunt Petunia!" he shouted. "Run!"

Aunt Petunia looked ready to run but equally determined to stay with her husband. She threw a large picture of Dudley in his Smeltings uniform at the advancing attacker, but it was again blasted out of the air. As the Death Eater drew closer, he leveled his wand at Harry's aunt. Harry knew this time there would be no red light, but green: the crazed look on Amycus's face told him without doubt that Aunt Petunia was about the face the same curse that had killed her sister, Harry's mother.

"NO!" he shouted. He heard the curse, witnessed the green light - and saw the green light go wide, hit the piano. There was a tinkling of keys as the Amycus shouted in frustration. Something had knocked him over, skewing his curse. He was laying on the floor, struggling with -

To Harry's great surprise, his elderly neighbor Mrs. Figg stood in the ruined doorway, and several of her cats were now clawing the Death Eater on the floor. "Mr. Tibbles, back!" she shouted. The cats leapt out of the way. With shaking hands Mrs. Figg threw some sort of potion bottle at the Death Eater, and he laid still, stunned unconscious.

Harry didn't have time to ask how she had done it, how she had known they needed help. There were still four more Death Eaters who seemed bound and determined to win the battle. One of them - Alecto, the sister - turned and with a cruel laugh sent a stream of red light at Mrs. Figg. To Harry's dismay she fell to the floor, and her cats began to swarm around her, mewing sadly. He started to move toward her, but he heard a noise behind him, and Professor Lupin started edging Harry toward the kitchen.

"We can't go that way," Harry hissed to him, wondering why his professor was leading him toward the kitchen. Hadn't he heard the noise? There were probably more Death Eaters waiting to attack. But Lupin simply shook his head, still too busy putting up shields to block the incoming curses and trying to fire off his own. Slowly they moved toward the kitchen, and the Death Eaters followed. Harry only hoped there weren't more Death Eaters behind them, because didn't he know how long they could keep this up; the final four were relentless . . .

"Down, Harry!" cried Lupin all of a sudden, and without thinking Harry sank to the floor as several jets of red light flew through the space where he had just been standing. The four remaining Death Eaters didn't even have a chance to put up a shield, and crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Harry stood up and turned around. There in the kitchen stood Mad-Eye Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, his son Bill.

"That outta take care of them for a while," growled Moody. He moved into the living room and began to magically bind the unconscious Death Eaters. He nodded at Harry. "Potter. Lupin. You okay?" Moody walked over to where Mrs. Figg was laying on the floor. He raised his wand to revive her, and talking in a low voice, he led her to a chair that had miraculously escaped damage. She looked shaken and pale, but alive.

Harry nodded, stunned at everything that had just happened. "Yeah. . . yeah I'm okay. But my Uncle was hit, and I don't even know where my cousin is."

Tonks snorted. "Probably under a bed somewhere. I'll find him." She stopped to squeeze Lupin's hand before heading up to the second floor to find Dudley.

Bill and Mr. Weasley hurried over to Harry's aunt and uncle. Aunt Petunia was still sobbing over the unconscious Uncle Vernon. Mr. Weasley gently helped her up and guided her to the only other chair still standing in one piece.

"Is he - he's not -" she put her hand to her mouth, too frightened to even contemplate the ugly possibilities.

"He's just stunned," said Bill. "I can help him."

Although Harry saw her hesitate, Aunt Petunia nodded. Bill said "Rennervate!" and when Uncle Vernon opened his eyes, she gasped with relief. Bill helped him up and they walked back over to Aunt Petunia, who took her husband's hand. Uncle Vernon looked weak and frightened, almost worse than Mrs. Figg, and for once he didn't say anything about having a house full of wizards.

Lupin turned to Mad-Eye. "You got my message, then. Good. Has the Ministry been informed yet?"

"No time," growled Moody.

"I'll go," said Bill, and with a pop he Apparated out. Harry imagined he would be notifying the officials from the Department of Magical Catastrophes.

"Harry, are you sure you're okay?" asked Mr. Weasley, still standing by his aunt.

To Harry's surprise, Aunt Petunia looked at him, wide-eyed. He thought she looked concerned for him, or possibly still frightened. He was tired and sore, and had several cuts and scrapes from curses that had barely missed, but he was surprisingly uninjured. He nodded. "Yes, I am. I'm just thankful you all arrived so quickly."

"We were extra alert. It was bound to happen again sometime," said Moody. Harry saw that he was prowling around the room, waving his wand, and he guessed that the ex-Auror was setting new wards just in case of a second attack. He felt guilty in hoping the Auror's wards were stronger than Professor Lupin's; but then eight Death Eaters attacking at once could probably bring down even the best Auror's wards.

"I-is this what - what happened to Lily?" whispered Aunt Petunia. Everyone turned to look at her, but she was watching Harry with stunned, glassy eyes.

"No." Harry swallowed and told her the truth. "No, it was worse. Voldemort himself killed her, and my father, and he tried to kill me." Harry watched her closely as she covered her face with her hands.

"I had no idea," she said in a voice strangled with pain. Uncle Vernon looked at her askance, as if he couldn't believe she was showing any sympathy whatsoever to someone of Harry's kind.

"You were lucky, you know," growled Moody from the other side of the room. Harry imagined Moody's magical eye was probably trained on him even though his back was turned. "It doesn't look like they used anything really damaging." Uncle Vernon sputtered. "I mean, they weren't here to kill anyone. I'm not sure what I think about that."

Harry stopped to think about the attack. It was true, the Death Eaters hadn't used any Unforgivables, except the one for Aunt Petunia that destroyed the piano. Why? After the attack on Hogwarts, Snape had told the escaping Death Eaters that Voldemort wanted Harry for himself. Why then would the Dark Lord set an attack on Harry? Did he want Harry captured again? What for? He had already used Harry's blood to regenerate, thereby negating the magical protection his mother's sacrifice had left him. Was there some other reason Voldemort wanted Harry for his own, or was it just to kill him personally?

Lupin was frowning and looked as if he were about to voice similar thoughts, but at that moment Tonks came back downstairs with Dudley. Dudley gave a shout and ran over to his mother. She stood up and grabbed him in a strangling hug, and together they huddled with Uncle Vernon.

Tonks had Harry's trunk behind her, apparently packed and ready to go. "I sent your owls to the Burrow," she said, "and packed up your stuff. Of course, you may want to double check, since . . ." She let the sentence trail off, but Harry knew she meant to say ‘Since you're not coming back.'

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley, who nodded. "We may as well leave now, there is no point in staying. Go ahead and check your room, we can't go until the Obliviators get here."

Harry ran upstairs and into his room. Tonks had done a good job: everything in sight was gone, packed away in his trunk for good. He checked his closet, his nightstand, and finally the loose floorboard where he stashed his books and food. He had removed everything before going to bed, however, and found that he was finally well ready to leave the room that once been Dudley's second bedroom. The thought of how happy Dudley would be to get it back chased away any brief thoughts of sadness and caused Harry to give a bitter laugh over his leave-taking. Turning his back, he shut the door behind him for the last time and returned to the others downstairs.

"That's everything, you did a good job," he told Tonks, who was standing close to Lupin.

She winked at him. "Loved the stuffed hippogriff, who's that from?"

Harry blushed and thought he saw Mr. Weasley giving him a strange look. Fortunately at that moment Bill returned with a loud crack, followed by Ron clutching Hermione. Harry found himself enveloped in a large double hug, his view obscured by bushy brown hair and a long nose surrounded by freckles.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. "Are you okay? What happened? We were so worried when Mr. Weasley and Bill left, we didn't know what had happened, and then Bill told us you were okay but you had been attacked by Death Eaters and we had to come right away - "

"I'm fine," said Harry, wondering what they were doing up at such an hour. "Professor Lupin was here, and Mrs. Figg, and then the others showed up."

Ron still had his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed tightly. "You gave us a right scare. Again." He lowered his voice. "Ginny's practically having kittens, she was royally upset she couldn't come. And Mum's dead worried too, though she didn't want us Apparating here to see if you were all right."

Apparently Mr. Weasley had heard Ron's last bit to Harry. "And what exactly did you think you would accomplish, coming here?" he demanded, though Harry thought he didn't sound nearly as angry as he might have. "What if there were still Death Eaters attacking?"

Ron turned to his dad. "Bill told us it was over, and anyway we've fought Death Eaters before, we could've helped."

Before Mr. Weasley could open his mouth to reply, four more pops sounded outside and everyone tensed. Harry was getting tired of the unexpected sounds of Apparation on Privet Drive. But this time there was a knock on the back door.

"That'd be the Ministry," said Moody, and he went to let them in.

"Harry, what happened?" asked Hermione in a small voice. She was looking around the living room in dismay. It certainly looked worse than ever. The door, the piano, and the couch were completely destroyed, along with almost all the pictures of Dudley, several tables and the vase Aunt Petunia had thrown. There were scorch marks on the walls from all of the curses that had missed. Bits of white fluff from the couch littered the floor. There were also eight unconscious Death Eaters sprawled around and magically tied up.

Before Harry could tell Ron and Hermione what had happened, however, four officials from the Ministry came over and demanded the same explanation. So he told them everything that had happened, leaving out the part about his scar hurting; he would fill Ron and Hermione in later. Lupin added his own part of the story, including Mrs. Figg's timely entrance and the arrival of the four Order members who had finished off the remaining Death Eaters.

One of the officials turned to Harry, a middle-aged man with tired eyes. "Would you like us to repair the damage?" he asked. Harry was surprised, and glanced questioningly at Mr. Weasley, who nodded.

"Yes, that would be great, thanks," said Harry. But then the man lowered his voice and asked another, more difficult question.

"Would you like us to modify their memories?" Now Harry was really shocked. When he had blown up his aunt four years ago, Ministry officials had modified her memory, but not the Dursleys. They had apparently heard the question because they were all looking at him: Uncle Vernon with barely controlled rage, Dudley with fright, and Aunt Petunia with a face that plainly said to him: Yes.

But could he do that to them? Should he? Would the Dursleys be better off remembering the attack tonight, or forgetting about it? For years Harry had thought they would be better off forgetting all about him, but now that he had the power to take away their memories, he found that it was not at all easy to do.

He felt Ron and Hermione looking at him, mouths open. Lupin was watching him thoughtfully, and Mr. Weasley had closed his eyes as he awaited Harry's decision. He didn't have to make it.

"Yes," whispered Aunt Petunia. "Please, do it." Harry stared at her, astonished, yet understanding. Weren't there things he wished he could forget? But then didn't his memories make him who he truly was?

"I will not have you touching us, using those - those - things - in my house -" his uncle began. Apparently he had finally found his voice. He continued, growing louder and louder with each passing word. "I don't know what happened here tonight, but I want no part in it, I demand you all leave at once - "

Aunt Petunia grabbed his hand. "Vernon," she said, with an edge to her voice that Harry rarely heard her use with anyone except him. "Vernon, stop. We have to do this."

"Petunia, how can you let them use . . . magic . . . on our son, on you? After everything we've tried to do - "

"I know," she whispered, shaking her head. "I hate it, but I've been through this once before and I don't want to go through it again." She looked up at him again. "Please."

Harry had never seen such an exchange between his aunt and uncle, and found that his throat was getting tight. His aunt rarely acknowledged magic, and never talked about her sister, yet here she was admitting the pain that Lily Potter's death had caused her sixteen years ago. He didn't know if he could watch; Hermione had turned away toward Ron.

Uncle Vernon shook his head in defeat. Three Obliviators walked over to the Dursleys; a fourth wizard began to magically repair the damage to the living room.

Through the entire exchange between his parents Dudley had stayed silent; now Harry heard him whimper. Aunt Petunia whispered something to him and turned to face the officials.

"Together," Aunt Petunia told the Obliviators. Together the Dursleys stood, and together the officials shouted "Obliviate!"

There was a flash of light. The Dursleys were standing completely still, staring with unblinking eyes as if in a trance. The Obliviators began to talk quietly, replacing their memories of the terrible attack that night with something far more mundane: a gas explosion.

"We should go," said Arthur Weasley softy. "We'll just complicate matters."

"What about them?" asked Harry, snapping out of his grim reverie and gesturing toward his aunt and uncle. "What if there's another attack? What if Voldemort tries to use them to get to me?"

"Harry," said Lupin, coming up to him. "We'll make sure the house is guarded. But Voldemort was after you tonight, and there is little reason to think that he will come back here looking for you after such a spectacular failure. He'll know you will have left." Lupin took a breath. "And I don't think he'll see the Dursleys as the most desirable target for getting to you now." Lupin placed his hand on Harry's arm. "I know you are concerned, but it's better for them if we leave. I think they'll be safer."

Harry heard Hermione catch her breath; he hated Lupin for saying it, but it was all true. Surely Voldemort would go after any other number of people if he hoped to lure Harry into a trap like he had when Sirius had died. Again the similarities to his fifth year struck Harry strongly at that moment. But Harry realized that if he was the target of the attack, if Voldemort wanted to capture him or kill him, then putting as much distance between him and the Dursleys would probably be the best way to keep them safe.

"Okay. But I need to stay, to say goodbye. You go ahead."

"No, we'll just wait outside, we'll be safer traveling together." Arthur Weasley touched him on the arm as well and went outside with Bill after one final glance at the glassy eyed Dursleys. Mad Eye Moody helped Mrs. Figg out, and after telling him not to be too long, Lupin and Tonks left as well. That left only Ron and Hermione, and Harry knew they weren't going to leave him. He was glad to have their support.

The ministry officials finished their work and after a few last words with Harry left through the back door. Harry looked around the living room; it was back to normal, except for the broken piano and a few scorch marks the ministry officials had left to explain the gas leak.

As he watched, understanding slowly crept back unto the Dursleys' faces, and they looked around, confused. Seeing Ron and Hermione standing with Harry, Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to speak.

"It's okay," said Harry, heading him off. "These are my friends Ron and Hermione. They've come to see me off." His uncle looked past Ron and Hermione to the broken piano and again opened his mouth for a tirade. "There was a gas leak, don't you remember?"

Aunt Petunia shook her head, looking puzzled. But then she seemed to remember, and grasped Dudley to her yet again "Oh Duddliekins, are you okay? How did this happen? Oh, my mother's piano!"

"Did you have anything to do with this, boy?" fumed Uncle Vernon. "You weren't doing - you know - were you?"

Any other day and Harry might have yelled back, but tonight he was just too tired. He simply shook his head, unwilling to pick a fight with his uncle as he was leaving at last. "No, it really was a gas leak. It happened right before Ron and Hermione arrived to pick me up."

His uncle seemed to be struggling to remember, and when he couldn't grasp the details gave up. "So," he said. "You're leaving then." He had noticed Harry's trunk by the door, and seemed to be holding back a smile.

"Yes, I'm of age now." He wanted to add that they were finally free of him, and the threat he posed, but he didn't. They didn't know what had just happened, that their lives were threatened by Harry's presence and unprotected by Dumbledore's magic. Harry found that if he had been sad earlier, he was not anymore; he was just weary of the conflict with them and ready to leave. And after seeing his friends come so quickly to his rescue, Harry realized he had a much bigger and better family to be moving onto.

"Well, then. Good bye," said his uncle, and turned and walked into the kitchen. Dudley followed, throwing Harry a snicker and a dirty look, and Harry knew that he would never talk to them again. But his aunt looked at him strangely.

"Thank you," she said, though she still appeared puzzled.

"For what?" asked Harry suspiciously. Had the charm failed to erase the night's events from her memory?

"I don't know, exactly," she replied. "But I think something happened, didn't it? And that's why you are leaving now."

Harry nodded, speechless.

"Be careful," she said softy, and for a minute Harry thought she might hug him as she took a small step forward. But she didn't. She turned to go into the kitchen, stopped, and looked at him one last time. "Do be careful." And then she left.

Harry stood there in the living room, unmoving. His throat was tight and he felt his eyes water. He had never had a kind word from his aunt, in all his years at Privet Drive. And now, as he was starting a journey he might not survive, she had told him to be careful. It wasn't much, but it was something. He found himself a bit more reluctant to leave right then; the sadness that had come and gone like a roller coaster all night was back.

Hermione tugged on his elbow. "Harry? Are you all right? Let's go, okay?"

Ron levitated his trunk and floated it toward the door. With one final look around, Harry followed his friends out the back. The other Order members had waited for him. The sun was just starting to come up as he took hold of Mr. Weasley's arm to Apparate back to the Burrow. Harry Potter sighed heavily and left Privet Drive forever.


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A/N: Thank you once again to my excellent beta, ginnyweasley718 - I really appreciate her time and effort with this piece!

This story begins the series The Seventh Summer. This is a trilogy of stories set during the summer before Harry's seventh year. The next one is titled Not Really Saying Goodbye and takes place at the Burrow approximately one week later. The series concludes with Harry's visit to Godric's Hollow. I hope you enjoy this first story - thank you for reading and reviewing!

And thank you to J.K.Rowling for letting us play in her wonderful world.