For the first time in his entire life, Harry Potter hadn’t been dreading his arrival at the Dursley’s. They were just as bothersome as ever, but with Ron and Hermione by his side almost anything seemed at least a bit more bearable. Even the task of finding the remaining Horcruxes and destroying Voldemort seemed less impossible.


But still, Harry knew he was endangering the two people who had been loyal to him through everything - his true best friends in the world. His thoughts were constantly at war with each other, and lately in particular about his former girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. It had been almost a month since he had seen her last, and he still stuck by his decision of parting with her. But would he feel the same once he saw her again at the burrow in a few short days? He tried to push the thought from his mind as he tried to find a more comfortable position to sleep in.


He half-smiled as he heard Ron’s muffled snoring beside him, and Hermione’s quiet mutterings from across the room. He never knew she talked in her sleep - but he had never actually slept in the same room with her, as he unfortunately had with Ron over the years. These two were the only source of happiness he had at the moment, and he tried not to let his thoughts wander to the death of Dumbledore, the last of the few people he could confide in. Without Dumbledore, Harry feared for his life and for others’ lives like he never had before. When Dumbledore was around, nothing could come near Harry. He had always pictured Dumbledore as invincible, outsmarting anyone that crossed his path, and now, his death made Harry see clearer than ever before - anyone could be gone in a moment. Especially the people he was closest to, and he would have to be ready for that if it came.






Daylight quietly slid its shadows over Privet Drive. Harry knew he had been awake the entire night, and was now used to it. It was almost impossible for him to sleep when he had so many things occupying his mind - things that were imperative for him to figure out. His current thoughts, however, were interrupted by a bushy-haired figure who was yawning quietly.


“Harry?” she whispered, though she needn’t have, really - Ron’s snores were enough to drown out any conversation. “Are you awake?”


“Yeah,” Harry replied without an ounce of fatigue in his voice.


“Have you been up all this time?” she asked, yawning again, this time rather loudly. Harry nodded and sat up, almost knocking over the lamp on his bedside table.


Ron then awoke with a start. “Wassgoinon?” he shouted, groping blindly for the sheets.


Harry managed a smile. “Sorry, mate, I know it’s rather close quarters at the moment.”


Ron yawned, rather obnoxiously compared to Hermione’s, and then muttered, “It’s alright, Harry. We’ll be gone from here in a few days anyway.”


“Oh, Harry, that’s right, I almost forgot!” Hermione said cheerfully. “Your birthday’s in just two days!”


Harry wanted to laugh but didn’t - he had never been one to fuss over his birthday. While to normal people it was usually a rather important event, to Harry it simply meant nothing. But this year, at least, he would be turning seventeen. He would be of age in the wizarding world. It was already decided that the Order would come and fetch Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the eve of Harry’s birthday, and they would proceed to leave the Dursley’s just a few short minutes after Harry was officially seventeen. Harry and Ron would Side-Along with a member of the Order - Hermione, of course, would Apparate herself - and arrive at the Burrow just in time for Bill and Fleur’s wedding which would be a week afterwards. After that, Harry thought, they would have to face their fate.


“Good thing, too,” Ron smirked. “Then Harry will be able to add ears to Dudley’s piggy face.” They all laughed for a moment at that wonderful thought.


Since they’d all arrived at the Dursley’s a month ago, they’d barely talked about anything else but leaving. They hadn’t talked about Dumbledore’s death, for whenever Ron and Hermione brought it up in conversation, Harry would immediately change the subject. It was only something Harry wanted to reflect upon on his own - without anyone else’s thoughts in the way. Harry knew this was a bit selfish, but he thought that if he heard what Hermione and Ron had to say, he would immediately feel as if they didn’t understand. Nobody had been as close to Dumbledore as Harry had been. However, Harry swore he heard Hermione and Ron softly crying together in the middle of the night on several occasions, and he decided it would be intruding if he did anything but pretend to be asleep, though it didn’t stop his own tears from falling.


They also hadn’t talked about this break-up with Ginny, though Hermione definitely hinted that he was making a mistake. Harry didn’t want to hear it - his best friends had to trust his decisions. The real question was, did he trust them? Ron seemed rather indifferent about it, as well as reluctant to talk about it, as he probably sensed Harry’s own reluctancy. Harry thought that maybe Ron expected he would come around eventually and shouldn’t press the matter. Harry prefered this logic much more than Hermione’s. However, Hermione was nothing if not determined to be right.





The next two days passed slowly, and on the night before Harry’s birthday, he, Ron, and Hermione packed for the Burrow. It wasn’t hard since both Ron and Hermione could use magic now, and as they swished their wands to direct various pieces of clothing and possesions into their trunks, Harry half expected to hear the familiar tapping of a Ministry owl on his window, informing him that someone had performed illegal underage magic. Consequently, no such owl appeared and Harry let himself smile for just a moment.


Because it was such a small space, Ron and Hermione kept bickering over whose stuff they were actually summoning, but Harry saw out the corners of his eyes that they kept accidentally bumping into each other and blushing.


Around eight thirty, Uncle Vernon poked his head in the room and sniffed disapprovingly.


“What’s all this racket?” he sneered, clearly horrified as he saw Ron and Hermione’s things folding themselves neatly on Harry’s bed.


Hermione, who wanted to be as kind as possible to the Dursley’s - “We really should leave a good impression, being your friends and all,” she’d said earlier - muttered, “Sorry, Mr. Dursley. We didn’t mean to cause a disruption.”


“Too right you didn’t,” he hissed. “Now shut it!”


“Hey!” Ron bellowed. “If you’ve got a problem with Hermione then you’re gonna have to answer to me!” He brandished his wand fiercly and Vernon ran. “I love doing that, Harry,” Ron chuckled, and Hermione looked disapproving.


“Really, Ron,” she reprimanded, but Harry noticed that she was bright red and trying not to smile. Harry laughed and closed his trunk. He had finished packing, with the help of Hermione, and consequently they were ready four hours early for the arrival of the Order.




When Harry’s watch finally beeped at midnight, they all rejoiced.


"Happy birthday, Harry!" Hermione said as she threw her arms around him, earning an expected jealous look from Ron.


“Feel any different, mate?” Ron asked excitedly, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder and shoving Hermione away from him.


“No,” Harry answered honestly, “but the Dursley’s have got a little goodbye treat in store for them before I leave.” He took out his wand and stuck it in his back pocket with an evil smile.


“Harry, you really musn’t -” Hermione protested, but Harry was already out the door. He could tell already that this would be his best birthday yet.

The Burrow was almost unrecognizable. Flowers were everywhere, various Weasley members were running from a frenzied Fleur (who seemed to have gone rather insane), and in the days before the wedding so many family members were arriving at the Burrow that Harry figured it would burst from exhaustion.


Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been there just a few days, and Harry already felt more at home than he ever had. He clung to the happy thoughts of the wedding, thrived on all of the wonderful people he was around, and tried not to dwell on what they were going to have to face afterwards. However, speaking of things Harry had to face -


“Harry, have you seen my dress shoes?” Ginny asked kindly, popping her head into the room he and Ron shared. Harry shook his head, rather startled by her sudden appearance. “I swear Ron hid them, that git -” and she tore through all of Ron’s things in a frenzy. Harry tried not to feel the heat creeping up his neck as she brushed past his bed; he hoped she couldn’t hear his heart pounding, as it was probably audible from downstairs.


He knew Ginny would never ignore him or treat him with unkindess, even if he had broken up with her, but still, part of Harry wished she would show a bit more - remorse. He knew it was selfish and he knew it absolutely wasn’t Ginny to wallow on things past, but he at least felt a little sad inside that he wasn’t holding her and kissing her whenever he got the chance. She seemed perfectly fine with it. Women, he thought rather dejectedly as she continued to search Ron’s things.


“What do you think you’re doing?” Ron shouted, appearing suddenly in the doorway, wrenching his things from Ginny’s grasp and attempting to stuff them unkemptly back in his trunk.


“I’m looking for my shoes, Ron!” Ginny shrieked, ignoring his attempts to re-pack his belongings that were being carelessly tossed about. “I know you hid them! Now Fleur is insisting that I trade with Hermione as she feels I’m going to fall in them and Hermione’s are one size smaller - where is she anyway?” Ron had now given up all hope in taking back his stuff, threw his hands in the air, and slumped on his bed, Ginny still tearing through the entire room. Nobody even seemed to notice Harry who was sitting on his bed in silence, uncomfortably observing the whole thing.


“Ah, well,” Ginny sighed, putting the stuff down finally, “I guess you didn’t hide them after all -” but she was interrupted with a loud CRACK! as Hermione appeared next to Ron’s bed holding a pair of silver shoes, making him jump about three feet in the air as he almost fell off the bed.


“Oh, honestly, Ron. You should be used to it by now with Fred and George Apparating everywhere,” Hermione scolded, brandishing the shoes in his face. “Ginny, Fleur’s gone crazy. She insisted I find you and trade shoes with you - are these yours or mine?”


“Oh, I’ve no idea,” Ginny whimpered, throwing up her arms and trudging out of the room haughtily. “I’m so sick of this wedding!”


“What’s gotten into her?” Ron asked innocently.


“Oh, Ron, how can you be so thick?” Hermione hissed as she rolled her eyes and ran after Ginny. Ron began to sputter defensively but Hermione was already out the door.


“Women,” Ron muttered, looking forlorn, and finally turned to Harry. “What do you make of it then?”


Harry was very surprised at Ginny’s sudden outburst. He hadn’t seen her without a perfect smile on since he arrived here.


Harry shrugged, realizing Ron was expecting an answer. “You suppose I know?”


Harry’s tone must have been colder than he’d meant it to be, for Ron then mumbled something like “Sorry, mate” and “didn’t know.” Harry flicked his wand and the curtains drew around his four-poster, shutting him from view.


“No worries, I’m fine. Just thinking about the Hocruxes,” Harry lied, although there was some truth in this once he thought about it. Harry expected that his foul mood was due to two things - Ginny and Voldemort. An unlikely pairing of problems, Harry thought to himself and allowed himself a chuckle before falling into a deep afternoon sleep.





Harry was awoken what seemed to him like seconds later by Hermione, who was yelling something about dinner in the garden. The sun was setting and Harry was surprised he’d slept for so long. Since he’d been at the Burrow, however, he had been sleeping rather fitfully - he expected that being at the Dursley’s hadn’t really helped his mental well-being. No matter, he wasn’t quite sure which place he liked least at the moment - while he did feel right at home at the Burrow, he had to endure constant warnings from members of the Order to return to school, he barely had a moment to think as the entire house was in utter chaos (yes, more than the usual chaos), and worst of all, he had to see Ginny at least three times a day at meals. He couldn’t keep his mind off her, and his decision to split with her didn’t feel like it would hold much longer.

With that said, he rolled stiffly out of bed, put on his glasses, and joined the Weasley family - along with what seemed like several hundred others - for dinner in the garden.


“Harry, dear,” Mrs. Weasley cooed, enevloping him in a hug just as he was about to sit down in between Ron and Hermione. “Have a good nap?”


“Yeah, I did, thanks,” he replied politely and gave her a wan smile. She patted him on the back, introduced him to several dozen family members, and then finally ordered them all to tuck in.


Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was nothing if not magnificent. At least that aspect of life at the Burrow always put Harry in a good mood. Ginny was sitting all the way at the other end of the table with Bill, Fleur (to Ginny’s obvious dismay), Tonks, and Lupin (who were both quite the happy couples at the moment). Harry watched as she laughed hysterically at something Tonks whispered in her ear. Harry became extremely jealous that it wasn’t him whispering in her ear, realized exactly how crazy it was that he was jealous about that, and then decided to look nowhere but his plate. Hermione, however, had apparently seen the whole thing and gave Harry a knowing smile that he chose to ignore.


Suddenly not feeling very hungry, Harry mumbled something about needing even more sleep and hurried off towards the house, Ron and Hermione casting worried glances at each other as he stalked off. He knew he was being a pain, always moping about and always in a foul mood, but despite Harry’s original thoughts that all the happiness at the Burrow would make him happy, it only brought him more pain that he didn’t feel good enough to join in on it. Harry desperately wished he could let himself have joy and happiness for even a moment, for he knew that these just might be his last opportunities for it.


“Harry,” said a gentle voice behind him as he took his first steps up the stairs. He turned around and saw a tired but excruciatingly happy-looking Lupin giving him a watery smile.


“I’m not in the mood right now -” Harry started, but Lupin just chuckled and beckoned Harry closer. He was already fuming over Ginny and he didn’t need another happy face grinning at him.


“I wanted to talk to you about Hogwarts.” Lupin’s face was suddenly serious as his eyes penetrated Harry’s own. Perfect, Harry thought, just the thing I want to talk about right now.


“I know that everyone wants me to go back, but I promised Dumbledore -”


“I know this, Harry. I know you made a promise to Dumbledore.” Harry saw traces of grief etched in Lupin’s face, and he could tell that Lupin missed him terribly.


“So then you understand why I can’t go back,” Harry tried to say matter-of-factly, but ended up sounding haughty.


“That’s just it, Harry. I don’t understand. I don’t believe that Dumbledore would ask you to make a promise not to return to Hogwarts. He would have wanted you to finish your education before doing whatever it is you agreed you would do.”


“How the bloody hell would you know? You weren’t there when we -”


“When you what?”


Harry hated himself at that moment. He hated that this was all on his shoulders, but he knew it was something he had to do. He just couldn’t tell anyone else about it. Dumbledore had told him to confide only in Ron and Hermione, and that promise he would keep.


“I can’t say. I’m sorry. I’m not going back to school, and Ron and Hermione aren’t either.” Harry stared at Lupin for what seemed like a long, long time.


Lupin sighed, obviously realizing his defeat. He knew Harry wouldn’t change his mind. “I have to say I admire you, Harry. You never back down. You remind me so much of your father.” Tears stung Harry’s eyes as he saw the look on Lupin’s face, but Harry was tired of crying. He was tired of being sad. He wanted to be happy.


With that, Lupin turned and went back to dinner. Harry knew what he was doing, after all. When were people going to start trusting his decisions? Hadn’t he proven himself worthy of making them?


Feeling tired and dejected, he started his ascent back to his room. This time, another voice was calling his name. A girl’s. It was Ginny.


“Er - are you alright, Harry?” Ginny asked, concern etched across her face. Maybe she did still care about Harry after all.


“Yeah, fine,” Harry lied, pushing thoughts of school and Voldemort from his mind. “Er - can we talk?” Harry had no idea what he was doing, but he knew he needed to be near her, to hear her voice, and to tell her he was wrong. He took a few careful steps toward her.


Ginny looked at her feet. “Depends on what we talk about.”


Harry sensed the hurt inside her for the first time since he’d seen her this summer. He wanted to comfort her, and he was completely broken inside that he’d done this to her.


“I miss you, Ginny.” Tears sprang into Ginny’s eyes, threatening to fall. And when she looked up at him, he saw anger in her eyes. Frustration.


“You can’t just say that, Harry. We’re broken up. You shouldn’t care about me anymore.”


“How can you say that? Of course I care about you. It was never because of that. It was just -”


“What?” Ginny hissed. “You wanted to protect me, right? Harry, I understand that. I always did. What I don’t understand is - well -”


“What, Ginny?”


“Ron and Hermione are going with you, aren’t they?”


Her words stung Harry tremendously. He hadn’t told her. Slowly, he nodded.


“So,” she continued bitterly, “It’s okay if they go but not me? You used to do the same thing, Harry. It was always Ron and Hermione, never me. You trusted them, not me. You took them, not me. You always excluded me, up until a year ago. I thought that was over now, Harry. I really thought you included me this year. I guess I was wrong.”


“No! I did include you - I just - they - it’s -”


“Harry, I’m done. We’re done. Please don’t bring it up again.”


Harry stood there in silence, looking nowhere but her beautiful eyes. They stared at each other for a moment. She looked as if she was going to leave, just like that, and they were really over. Harry realized he would have to be okay with that.


Then, she was moving closer. She wasn't crying, but had a blazing look on her face. Harry moved closer to her, too, and took her hands. She didn't move away.


All of a sudden, they were kissing. Everything was wiped from Harry's mind as he intertwined with her, stroking her soft hair. He never wanted it to end. Neither did she.


When they finally pulled away, Harry looked into her eyes once more.


"One day, Ginny," he whispered. "I promise."


"I know, Harry. I'm sorry for all this," she laughed, the fire back in her eyes. "I was just being childish and jealous. I know this is something the three of you have to do. I won't intervene again - "


But Harry was barely listening. "I love you, Ginny Weasley."


"Goodbye, Harry," she smiled, and left Harry by himself, smiling like an idiot for what felt like the first time in ages.