Perfect was probably the best way to describe the day. Maybe there really was magic in the air. Midsummer's Eve was thought by many to be one of the most magical days of the year, so what better day to hold a wedding? The sky had been blue, the sun bright, and the breeze pleasant. Once the sun had set, it seemed every star in the sky had come out, and a few new ones too. Nature itself seemed to believe that the marriage of William Weasley and Fleur Delacour was something worthy of all its blessings. And why not? There had been far too many dark days. There was war brewing, and some days people didn't laugh, didn't smile, didn't make eye contact. But, for a few hours that day, people came together, looked into each other's eyes, smiled, laughed, and celebrated love on the most beautiful of days.

Anyone walking into the Burrow this day would have simply thought that everyone was happy. Such people probably wouldn't have thought to look up in the branches of the old rowan tree that grew on the far side of the pond. If they had, they would have seen a lonely looking young man, hiding in it's branches, looking forlornly at the party across the way.

It wasn't that Harry Potter didn't enjoy the festivities. A Weasley wedding had a way of getting people going. The Weasleys were, after all, very lively people. The food had been excellent. Harry had no idea how Molly was able to cook for a hundred guests, but magic was very useful on occasion.

The ceremony was beautiful. Fleur and Bill didn't even seem to know anyone else was there. And the dancing at the reception...well, dancing still wasn't Harry's favourite past time. It seemed every one of the Weasley aunts simply thought Harry to be "such a handsome young fellow" and insisted on a turn or two. Harry gave them half a turn each and quickly sought the quickest escape possible.

But then...then she had come to him. Harry closed his eyes and still he saw Ginny walking toward him. Fleur had caved to Ginny's protests and changed the color of her bridesmaid gowns. They were now a lovely shade of gold. The material rustled softly around her ankles and clung to her body in ways that drove Harry mad. To top it all off, she wasn't wearing any perfume, just a matching rose in her hair, which only made Harry want to nuzzle into her neck and breathe deeply.

She had walked toward him, never breaking eye contact. Not a word was exchanged. She simply held out her hand; Harry took it and followed. When the song was over, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and turned and walked away. Harry could make out the faintest trace of tears in her eyes.

She knew - or, rather, she suspected - Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving again in the morning. Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to talk to Ginny for nearly a week, not since after the three of them had returned from Godric's Hollow. Harry had hoped that first trip, standing in the ruins of where it had all began; would give him the strength to go forward. Instead, it only brought back all the terrible things that had happened so far: his parents' murder; growing up with the Dursleys; losing Sirius (yes, he could finally say that one out loud); and the past year. Well, maybe Harry couldn't quite bring himself to say that one just yet. The weight of what had to be done, combined with all the losses he had suffered so far, made Harry not quite sure he could bring himself to go on.

So, here he was, hiding up a tree, on a day that was supposed to be a celebration of all the best things in life. All Harry Potter could think about was a madman who had committed murder, time and time again, for the sake of living forever. But even that wasn't enough. He wanted to make sure that anyone who stood in his way, who didn't agree with him, who didn't kiss the hem of his robes, couldn't publicly or privately defy him. This wasn't just war. This was more than war. This was an atrocity waiting to happen.

The only thing it waited for was Harry. The Greatest Wizard in the World himself had believed that Harry was the only thing standing between Voldemort and that complete atrocity. Dumbledore himself was now a casu...no...no thinking about that. There were no more branches for Harry to climb up and hide in. Now it was time to forget.

In a few hours time, Harry would be leaving all this happiness behind and setting off on the most dangerous quest that had ever been undertaken in the Wizarding world. A mere boy was going to take down the most evil dark wizard in half a century because it was his destiny. Only destiny didn't ever stop to consider what it was doing by sending a mere boy to save the world, it just thought that it would be poignant. That was all well and good, but how did destiny know that Harry was the right "mere boy" to send? No one had ever bothered to ask him if he WANTED to do this. Especially now that he was alone. No one stood between him and destiny. Those who had stood in the way were now dea...gone.

He had to do this. He had to or else today would be the exception to the darkness. With a heavy heart, Harry Potter climbed down from the tree, and headed for the Burrow. After all, it wouldn't do to face destiny without enough sleep.

888

"Severus...please..."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

888

"NOO!"

It was the same dream; the same one, every night, for the past week. The more he tried to forget it during the day, the more Harry remembered the events on the Tower at night. They haunted his dreams and troubled his conscience.

He could feel the tears coming again. Thank goodness Ron was asleep. He couldn't have stood to have his best mate see him like this, not when he and Hermione were putting their lives into his hands tomorrow.

He was so tired of feeling this way. He couldn't do it. Morning would come and he would have to meet destiny face to face. He wasn't ready. He couldn't be ready. He could never BE ready.

All hope was lost.

Harry curled up and clutched the sheets tightly, crying himself to sleep.

888

"Severus...please..."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

888

"Harry! Harry! Wake up mate!"

"...hmmm...what?"

"Come on Harry! You can't sleep all day. We've got plans, remember?"

"WHAT? OH NO! RON! HURRY! WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, mate. Easy there now. I don't think Diagon Alley is going anywhere."

"Diagon Alley? What are you talking about Ron? We have to leave today! We don't have time to pick up any more supplies. We need to go before the others find out we're gone!" Harry was definitely up now, scrambling to throw loose clothes into his rack sack. "I knew I shouldn't have saved this for today. I just hope we make it out before everyone else knows we're gone."

"Umm...Harry? Everyone knows we're going. This whole thing was Mum and Dad's idea, remember?"

"What?"

"Yeah, Harry. I hardly think that we'd be able to go without their permission. I don't fancy trying to sneak this one past Mum. She'd murder me!"

"But...but how did they find out? I never told them about what I was doing with Profe..." Harry stopped abruptly as the room began to spin. His forehead felt as though it was being ripped in half with a saw. Instinctively, Harry reached for his scar...only to find it wasn't there. "What the..."

"Harry, take it easy, mate. Lie down. Let me get you a glass of water!"

"No! No...mirror...take me to the mirror..."

"What?"

"Don't argue, Ron, just do it!"

Ron didn't want to agitate his friend anymore, so he put an arm under Harry's and helped him walk to the mirror over the bureau. Harry felt around for his glasses and hurriedly put them on (missing his face once or twice). He quickly studied his reflection, looking for the thing that had defined his entire life since he was only a year old.

It couldn't be, could it? There was no trace of his scar.

But the pain in his head continued. Harry once again found himself unsteady on his feet. Ron had to scramble to keep Harry up and lead him gently back to the bed.

"Take it easy, mate. I think we'd better stay in today. You just stay there and get some rest. I'll send Mum up to check on you. OK? Just have a bit of a kip. Things'll feel better when you wake up."

OK? OK! How could things be ok? Everything was all wrong. He had to leave. He had to leave today. He had to leave now, or else he wouldn't be able to...

The pain in his forehead only increased until Harry couldn't think any more. Instead, he decided to take Ron's advice. Maybe a bit of a kip would be just what he needed...

"Harry...Harry darling, are you all right?"

The pain in his head was gone. He was still a bit groggy, but Harry at least felt up to opening his eyes. A very concerned looking redhead was hovering over him, slowly stroking his hair. It helped to calm him. He felt around for his glasses.

"Ginny?"

A few people standing around the room chuckled. Harry was dimly aware of someone who sounded like Arthur Weasley speaking.

"Well, how do you like that? Boy seems like he's dying and the first thing he looks for when he wakes up is his girlfriend. Guess you're not number one anymore eh, Lily? That's teenagers for you."

"What?"

Harry felt his glasses being put back on to his face, and the redhead above him quickly came into focus. He expected to be looking into Ginny's brown eyes, but instead found an older woman with the most extraordinary green eyes looking back at him.

"Don't you pay them any mind, dear. How are you feeling?"

"No...it can't be..."

"Harry, what's wrong, dear?"

Harry slowly sat up and started to take stock of his surroundings. He was in the Burrow, in the same bedroom that he and Ron had shared almost every summer since his second year. Molly, Arthur and Ron were all standing just at the foot of his bed. Sitting next to him was the woman who, up till now, Harry had only ever known from moving pictures, a look into the Mirror of Erised, and as a ghost from the horrible night he had duelled with Lord Voldemort.

"You...you're...how did you get here?"

"Well, Molly and Arthur Flooed when you weren't feeling well. We weren't going to come see you until you got back, but I don't think you're very well going to be going anywhere now in your condition."

"It...it can't be..."

"Now, honey, don't be so disappointed. They should have kept you in St. Mungo's a little longer, that's all. I think the stress of the wedding got to you. It was just too soon. If you rest up, I'm sure you lot can make a smaller trip. Just think, you can save the big trip for when you finish school. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Harry leapt from the bed, terrified at what was going on around him. "Who are you? You're not my mother! You can't be! She's dead! What's going on? Where am I? Someone tell me what is going on!" He turned to Ron and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "What's happened? Why aren't we leaving on The Quest? And what is my mother doing here? She can't be here!"

"Uhh, whoa, mate, easy there. What are you talking about?"

Lily Potter was now very concerned for her son. "Harry, darling, what are you saying?"

"Stay away from me! Who are you?"

"I'm your mother, darling. How can you not know me?"

"You can't be my mother. My parents are dead!"

"Harry, you're scaring me, sweetheart. Come lie down, you don't know what you're saying."

"NO! STAY AWAY!" Harry turned to run for the door, only to run into someone who was trying to get into the room.

"Well, there's the old fighting Potter spirit," said the stranger, getting to his feet. "Way to go, son. I knew you'd be back on your feet in no time. But seriously, take it easy on your old man. You're getting a bit too big for the both of us to be playing full contact Quidditch inside the house."

"Dad?"

"James, something's wrong with Harry..."

"WHAT IS GOING ON?! YOU CAN'T BE HERE! MY PARENTS ARE DEAD! YOU CAN'T BE HERE! WHAT'S HAPPENED?!"

"Harry, easy there, lad," began James, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you feeling well? We're not gone, we're right he-"

"Stay away! Ron, help me!"

"Arthur, help me, we have to get him to St. Mungo's! Now!"

"Ron! What's happened? Help me!"

"Harry, you're scaring me. Please, son, it's us..."

"NO! STAY AWAY!"

"James, I think we might have to..."

"I agree, Arthur, can you reach your wand?"

"Yes, Harry, please, stop struggling, you're only making this harder."

"NO! LET ME GO!"

"Somnius."