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.