On a bright June afternoon, with the sun setting low on the horizon, turning the trees black and the clouds pink, a train sped diligently along a strangely winding path. The train was equally silent and full of noise at the same time. Small compartments filled with small children who twittered and worried, others filled with teenagers who gossiped and prophesized. But the silence came from one single compartment – it was full, with six teenagers in it, but it was silent.

Two of these teenagers held their hands together, one a girl with a face swollen and red from crying, the other a tall redheaded boy, looking like he was soon to cry. There were two others, a plump boy who looked like he wished to speak if not for the long silence that held him, the other, a spacey girl with odd jewellery, who looked content to simply sit and gaze out the window. The last two, another boy and another girl, seemed determined not to look at each other.

The boy looked up and watched the others, then looked away. He couldn't bear to make eye contact with any of them.

He uncrossed his arms and crossed them again. Finally, he rose and left the compartment. Everyone watched him go, but no one said a word. The compartment door closed with an audible click.

The hallway was empty. Harry Potter stood alone, looking out the window. The sun had set now. They were almost in London. Harry wasn't sure what was going to happen to him when he go there. Would there be Aurors there to meet him? Or would there be no one there, with Harry left to find his way to Privet Drive by himself? He wished with all his heart that it could be the latter, but he knew it wasn't. Someone would be waiting for him there at King's Cross, Platform 9 and ¾, whether it was Tonks or Moody or someone Harry didn't know at all. Either way, they were going to talk to him, and he knew he couldn't talk back to them. He wasn't in a talking mood.

He had stopped talking when Hogwarts had faded from his sight. He thought it likely that he would never see it again, and his parting view had not been particularly comforting. The Dark Mark that had hovered above the tower was long gone now, but it was still present in Harry's mind. The castle was dark and quiet. It had been declared that it would be open the next year for anyone who wished to return to its walls to complete their education, but Harry knew that he would not return to it, and this was the last he was ever to see of Hogwarts.

Slowly, he turned around, slid back into the compartment, and smiled at Ginny Weasley, the girl he had broken up with not two days before.

Sure enough, when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9 and ¾ only fifteen minutes later, there was a myriad of people Harry knew. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for their two youngest children, having only departed from Hogwarts the day before to accompany their eldest son, Bill, to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, two Muggle dentists and the parents of Hermione, were standing with them, looking equally nervous, aware of the danger to them in this wizarding place. Standing away from them were Tonks and an Auror who Harry had seen, but did not know the name of.

As the adults rushed them all off the platform and through the station, Harry found himself walking beside Ginny. Hermione and Ron were directly in front of them, and behind them was the Auror whom Harry didn't know. As they reached the outside, Harry knew they were parting.

He was going back to his aunt and uncle's, just like he had promised Dumbledore he would do. Then, he was leaving. He was going to visit Godric's Hollow, as he had said he would do, and then he was going to look for the horcruxes. He knew there were six of them, one destroyed, buried on Dumbledore's hand… he tried not to think about it. There was another, the locket that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin, the locket that Dumbledore had died for, that had been taken by someone named R.A.B. Harry wasn't sure if it had actually been destroyed or not. He would have to find it to know for sure. There was also the journal, which Harry himself had destroyed in his second year. That left Hufflepuff's cups, and something belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw. Dumbledore had told Harry that there was no way Voldemort had anything of Gryffindor's, as the only artefact was the sword that was certainly not a horcrux, so that meant there was one more horcrux, somewhere out in the world for Harry to find. And then, of course, there was the very last horcrux – the one that was not a horcrux at all, the one that was the original soul the horcruxes had been torn from – Voldemort himself.

Hermione threw herself at Harry, hugging him tightly. "Be careful," she said. "Send Hedwig as soon as you plan to leave. I'll be at Ron's by Saturday, and we'll both be waiting for you."

Ron nodded in agreement. "See you soon, mate." He said.

Knowing that Harry would just stand there, dumbstruck, if left to his own devices, Mrs. Weasley interrupted before Harry and Ginny had time to say goodbye. "Get that cloak on, Harry," she said, scooping him into a tight hug. "Be careful. Arthur will call you to make sure everything is alright with you."

"That's alright, Mrs. Weasley–" Harry was cut off again, though he knew that Mr. Weasley would not be a welcome caller to 4 Privet Drive. The last few visits had been fairly unsuccessful.

"Don't worry, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, "like Molly said, half our family owes you their lives. I'll check on you whenever I can, don't you worry."

Whether Mr. Weasley would be welcomed at the Dursley's or not, Harry hoped that he wouldn't even be there when Mr. Weasley got there. He hoped to be out on his own the day after next.

Harry did indeed leave the morning after next. He was now allowed to do magic over summer break (not that it was really a break for Harry – he wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts anyway) and he quickly found a good opportunity to blast the bars off his window, unlock Hedwig's cage, and fly away on his broom. He didn't pack a trunk, but filled his rucksack with clean underwear, socks, a spellbook or two, a sleeping bag he had found in the attic that he knew would never be used by Dudley, and a warm sweater. He didn't need much. His sneakoscope was sitting against his back so that if there was danger he would feel it spinning, his wand was in his front pocket, and Hedwig was off with a letter addressed to Ron and Hermione, apologizing for not waiting for them, telling them he would be at the Burrow in a week, and could they please pick up the rest of his things from the Dursleys?

He didn't bother saying goodbye to Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. He knew they were glad to be rid of him anyway, and it was still before daybreak, no later than 4 o'clock in the morning, and the house was asleep.

Harry was going to visit his parents. He was going to learn as much about them and their legacy as he could, and then he was going back to Ron and Hermione, and they were going to go and find the four remaining horcruxes.

Godric's Hollow was not as he had imagined it. He had always seen, deep in his mind, a small house, in front of a large tree, reduced to rubble on the ground, left to collect even more dust and history. But it wasn't. When he arrived there late that night, the house he had lived the first year of his life in – he knew this was the house; it was too old to be the replacement – stood serenely, a small car parked out front, the lights out, the house quiet. Harry longed to go in, but he knew it was impossible. He would have done it in an instant, disguised by his invisibility cloak and silenced by the mufflatio spell, if it hadn't been for one problem: there were two people sitting directly in front of the house, scanning the skies, looking for him.

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I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my newest Harry Potter fiction.

I don't own anything, yada yada yada. You know the drill.

Basically, this is my story for what I think it most likely to happen. The details will be my own ideas, but the general ideas (such as the ending, or what not) are basically what I'm expecting to happen in the last book. Read it if you want, or don't. If you don't like it, tell me why! I'd like to hear your input.

"Cornered by zombies, all I can think to do is confess. It was me who told dad you were gay."

Thanks,

Unolimbo