Final Stay at Privet Drive

Harry knew when he woke up that he'd had a terrible dream about Voldemort. He rolled over and groaned. "Why'd I ever think it was over…?"

Apparently his awful Uncle Vernon heard him (it was past midnight! Why would his uncle be up, let alone listening for Harry to make any sounds?), and yelled for him to be quiet, boy, or he'd come into his room and personally make sure there was no way he could return to Hogwarts in one piece. At this, Harry laughed quietly, and then shoved his head forcefully under the thin white pillow he had been sleeping on, so as to muffle any noises he might make if he had any more dreams. He was not disturbed again all night, though. He supposed Voldemort had just killed someone when he had been dreaming before, and it was over. Though he didn't like this idea, he knew it was going to be happening far more often what with the war and all.

Soon he would be away from his aunt and uncle, he reminded himself. He would be going to the Weasley family's house yet again, and was determined to have fun and ignore the fact that he didn't know what would happen anytime soon. He would be seventeen on July 31st, able to use magic outside Hogwarts (he didn't know if he'd be returning to Hogwarts, though), finally free. At least he would feel free, maybe. He didn't expect huge differences in his life; he was too smart for that. But he did expect to be able to do far more than he could before.

Harry wanted to see Ginny again, and suspected that Ron and Hermione were seeing each other, whether literally, figuratively, or both. He smiled at the thought; they already fought like husband and wife. July 30th, one more day. Then he would leave, since the Dursleys wouldn't even be able to protect him anymore, and wouldn't care to either. He couldn't be angry for this; he didn't want them to protect him anymore, so it didn't matter.

He got up, made himself a small breakfast, and headed out of the house without telling anyone. It didn't matter either; they didn't notice or care. He walked around the annoyingly perfectly cut, trimmed, and taken care of yard slowly, thinking. What would he do if Hogwarts turned out to be open? Would he go or just skip his seventh year? It wasn't like he actually had to do it anyway. But didn't he want to be an Auror? But…a Death Eater had been the person who told him he would make a good Auror. Was he going nuts? He laughed softly and wondered, if he said yes, would it be true?

His worries were probably miniscule compared to those of, perhaps, the Weasleys themselves, or…no, not Dumbledore. Dumbledore was dead, he told himself. But what if he's not, asked that little voice in his head. He truly wanted to believe Dumbledore was alive. Angrily, he kicked at a particularly large stone surrounding some of the plants the Dursleys had in their front yard.

Harry didn't want to think about Dumbledore. Why did everyone he cared about have to die? Why did he have to think about it at all? Why did he have to be the person who was to face Voldemort in the end? Why couldn't he just run or hide like everyone else did…? Then he realized that even given the choice, he wouldn't run or hide…that had never been what he specialized in, he knew. He smiled again, though it was a weak smile, now having thought of Dumbledore and everything else that awaited him this year, and the year after, and who knew how long after that.

Who would care if he left a day early? He walked into the house and up to his room, and began to pack his trunk and a small bag with every item that belonged to him that he cared about. He kept Dobby's socks, which were his gifts from a Christmas a few years ago, and though he never wore them, they meant a lot to him. He packed all his gifts from his friends that were still around, all his books…

He supposed he'd stay at the Leaky Cauldron for a night, then go over to the Burrow after, since the day they'd asked him to come was the 31st, and he didn't want to be rude. He looked forward to seeing Ginny again, and Ron, and if Hermione was there, and maybe Fred and George…he smiled thinking of seeing all his friends again, and packed even faster.