Dear Ginny:

I didn't know who else to talk to. I know that we broke up, and I know what I said, and it still holds true, but… I just needed to talk to someone. If that's okay with you. If not, well, just ignore this letter. But I really hope that you don't.

Harry Potter sat back in his chair and looked out the window. Hedwig would be back from hunting soon. Then he could send out his letters. He hoped Ginny would answer him; there were so many things he just couldn't say to Ron and Hermione. They were his best friends and he loved them, but they worried about him. And if he told them how he was feeling, they would analyze him and feel sorry for him. Ginny, on the other hand, would listen without conviction. He hoped.

I can't really say much in a letter, in case it gets intercepted, but I will do my best.

I'm afraid. Really afraid. Afraid of what I have to do, what could happen to me when I do it. What could happen to Ron and Hermione, and your parents, and you. I don't want to see any of you get hurt.

He read over the last section. Did he sound too condescending? Was he making it sound like he didn't think they could take care of themselves? No. He was saying what he felt. Ginny would understand.

There is so much I have to do. Some of it which I will never be able to walk away from, whether because it will be on my conscience or because I \will be killed in the process. I don't think I can do it. Hell, I barely know what it is I'm supposed to do.

And now anyone who could help me is gone. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore. Who is supposed to tell me what to do? Everyone other than Dumbledore and Sirius kept things hidden from me for 'my own safety' or didn't believe me when I found things. I can't tell you the number of times Ron and Hermione and I found things out and told McGonagall and she didn't believe us. But Dumbledore always did. He knew that we weren't stupid. He knew that we could have an impact on things.

And yet… it was my stupidity that caused so much. I went to the Department of Mysteries and Sirius followed me and died. I went with Dumbledore last spring and he died protecting me. If I hadn't been there, he could have protected himself, and he would still be here!

I guess I feel guilty. I don't know. I don't really think it's all my fault. I'm not going to go all weird and blame the world's problems on myself. It's just… maybe I'm not really up to this.

Maybe I'll see you before I go. I'm going to try to come over for Bill's wedding.

Yours,

Harry

When Harry looked up, he could see Hedwig flying towards him. A few moments later, she landed on the windowsill, a dead mouse clutched in her talons. She showed off her prize, which Harry pushed back out the window when she flew over to her cage.

"I know you're proud, Hedwig, but Aunt Petunia will kill me if she finds any more of those lying around. Even in the garden is hard. I'm having trouble convincing her it's just cats leaving dead mice around!" He petted the bird, who nipped his fingers affectionately. "I've got a letter for you to send. A couple. One for Ron, one for Ginny. Don't let Ron know you're there for Ginny, okay? Give it to her when she's alone."

Hedwig hooted in understanding. She drank some water in her cage and was off again.

Harry wanted to go with her. He wanted to take out his broomstick and fly away, all the way to the Burrow, then on to Godric's Hollow, then to find all the horcruxes. But he couldn't. He had promised Dumbledore that he would go back to Privet Drive, and he would stay there until his seventeenth birthday, which was still two weeks away.

Resigning himself to another two weeks of torture, Harry packed up his quill and parchment and went to sleep.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry's eyes shot open. He was being woken by Uncle Vernon's shouts – this was not a good sign. He groped around for his glasses, and as he thrust them on his face, everything became clear again. He looked out the window and saw that the sun was barely above the horizon.

"What time is it?" He mumbled. Then he heard the hooting downstairs. He leapt out of bed and ran down the stairs and, as he reached his aunt and uncle's room, saw what the noise was about: Aunt Petunia was crouching in her bed, terrified, and Uncle Vernon was trying to grab hold of a small owl that was hooting angrily and trying to peck him.

"Pig!" Harry shouted. The owl flew over to him.

"Get that ruddy bird out of here before I do something that YOU will regret!" Vernon cried, the vein in his neck bulging.

Harry grabbed the small bird and bolted. He didn't want to be around Uncle Vernon while he was like this.

"Pig," Harry hissed, slamming his bedroom door shut, "what are you doing! How could you get the wrong window!"

The small bird just looked at him with it's small black eyes and hooted affectionately.

Harry sighed. "It's things like you that make my life so difficult here." He said, pulling the letter off of Pig's leg. His heart skipped a beat, hoping it was from Ginny, but he soon realized that was silly. She probably wouldn't have received his letter yet, and she would have sent it back with Hedwig. It was just chance that he was getting another letter from the Weasley clan.

Sure enough, the letter enclosed was from Ron, not Ginny.

Dear Harry:

How's your summer going? I hope the family isn't treating you too badly.

They weren't, Harry thought. But now they will.

Everything is going pretty well here. Mom and Fleur and even Ginny are going crazy with getting ready for the wedding – there aren't even going to be that many people! You're coming, right? Dad said that he and Tonks will be there at 9 that morning to pick you up. Just to stop the confusion we've had the last few times, they're going to use the front door. And Tonks promises to have the loudest hair possible.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. That would be when he would say goodbye to Privet Drive for good…

Hermione is here already. She got in yesterday. Ginny said she wished it was you so she'd have some competition on the Quiddich pitch. I don't think I'm good enough for my little sister!

See you soon,

Ron

Harry read the letter again. He wanted to be there already. He wanted to be out of this miserable house and making a difference! Why would Dumbledore have been so intent on Harry staying at his aunt and uncle's for that last month? What could it possibly achieve?

Little did Harry know, Dumbledore had a very, very good reason.

There you are, my newest story! I have another HP story set after HBP, but I wasn't sure if I liked it, and I wanted to focus this one on something different. So here it is! Please review!