Chapter Three- Grimmauld Place

A/N: This is a short chapter, I know, but I'm already on chapter four so be nice- I can't believe the response and how quick I have updated this fic! Thanks so much guys, I'm really inspired.

By the way, I know there's probably a reason nobody's got rid of Mrs Black's portrait yet, but I couldn't stand her there anymore! She had to go. I'll dish in my creative license points.

.o0o.

As Harry had hoped, Kreacher had not yet joined him. There was just enough time for him to quietly unhook the portrait of Mrs Black (still sleeping) and hide it in the garden under his invisibility cloak before Kreacher turned up. Harry knew his next job was going to be difficult, but he decided there was a way to make it less painful for the both of them. He supposed it helped that Kreacher seemed to have warmed up to the idea of having Harry as his master.

"Kreacher," he told him seriously, "I know you're very attached to the Noble House of Black, but I need you to understand- this isn't there house anymore. It's mine, it's a Potter's."

Kreacher's huge lamplike eyes wavered. "Y-you want me to get rid of all their possessions?" He whimpered.

"Well, yes and know." Said Harry. "I don't want them around the house anymore, you see, but I know they mean a lot to you, so I was thinking, why don't you move everything down into the cellar and make it your room?"

Kreacher seemed to take this as Harry's noblest ever act. "Y-you would give Kreacher all that belonged to the Blacks?" He sniffed, "Master Harry is so truly noble!"

And he set about doing just that task. While he was busying himself emptying Regalus Black's room, Harry went up to the room he had shared with Ron and, wiping the dust of with his elbow, set about writing his letters.

The first was to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

I hope this letter finds you well and hopefully back in England, somewhere. How are things with your parents? How are you? I'm still keeping my whereabouts a secret –miracle, really- and a bit of a surprise. The wizarding world seems to believe I've gone on holiday! Can you believe? Who would I go with? I thought if I ever finished this sort of project of mine I'd go on one- but only if you, Ron and Ginny can with me. I don't suppose you've heard from any of the Weasleys, have you? I'm not missing Fred's funeral for the world, and no-one's really sure how to find me. I've also got Lupin and Tonks' to attend- and what about Teddy? What on Earth possessed Lupin to make me a godfather I'll never know!

There's really not much else to say, really, nothing has happened. I'm happyish, I suppose, though I really do wish you guys were here to.

See you soon,

Harry (yeah, the boy-who-lived-again)

PS, this is my new owl, Soot. He's a bit picky but he's alright.

Harry really wasn't sure what to say to Ron or Ginny, so he instead wrote a formal one to Professor McGonagall, who, he remembered, was still a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He told her his whereabouts should she need to contact him, and offered his help should she want it, knowing she wouldn't but would be glad that he had told her where he was.

The next couple of days passed slowly, with him and Kreacher cleaning the house from top to bottom. Kreacher had completely emptied Regalus' room and creating a shrine in the basement; while he was down there, Harry nipped out into the garden, disapparated with Mrs Black's portrait, and apparated on a cliff edge somewhere far away. He chucked it over the side and let her sink into the waves with a shrill, never to be seen again. He felt guilty that he didn't feel guilty.

Upon returning to the house, Harry discovered Soot had returned with a letter from Hermione. Glad of the news, he tore it open and hastily scanned through it.

Dear Harry,

Thanks for your letter! Your owl must be quiet clever- it was waiting for me at my grandparents' house where my parents and I stayed while I explained the events of the passed year. I thought they'd be angry, but Mum just cried and Dad hugged me and told me how proud they were to have a daughter like me. Although it's still a little weird around here (Mum's trying to get the house back from the people they seem to have lent it to) it's almost back to normal, although they keep asking me what I'm going to do now- I wish I knew!

Fred's funeral is on the 1st July, I hope this letter reaches you in time. Apparently, Mrs Weasley is keen to get it over with- to get on with their lives. It's so sad that something so good has to be marred by all these deaths. It's so easy for me in the muggle world to forget all that when I'm out shopping with my mother, I feel so sorry for everyone, not sharing their pain- even though I know you'd tell me that I shouldn't think that.

I miss you and Ron terribly, having been with you for so long, and I can't believe I'll only be seeing you at the funeral- Mum and Dad are whisking me away after that for a holiday. See what I mean about hating being lucky?

Hope you know what you're doing!

Love, Hermione

Harry smiled with affection at the letter and tucked it into the desk. It was now officially his, complete with quills, ink, paper a wireless desk lamp. Feeling he ought to send word of his arrival at the Burrow tomorrow, Harry took out another sheet and began to write.

Dear Ron,

I'll be arriving at the Burrow tomorrow in the morning for the funeral, sorry it's short notice I only just found out. And sorry I left without a goodbye- I really needed to get out. It's no real excuse and I'm sorry, but Hermione was probably (as she is usually) right, and you do need to spend time with your family- like I would if I could.

On a lighter note, I've been dying to ask, why on Merlin's arse did it take you so long to realise you liked Hermione? I mean, once you figured it out you were dead straight with the 'charming' mate, but I mean, come on! She'll still had to kiss you! Even I worked out the courage to kiss Ginny by myself.

I want to cross out that last sentence except it's actually quite funny, so I'm keeping it. Give… give everyone my love, will you? I hope they're holding up.

See you tomorrow.

Harry

PS, new bird- Soot. Likes worms.

Harry folded it hastily and attached it to Soot. Even if he didn't really like the bird yet, he did his job very well. He had no doubts that it would get to the Weasley's quickly. Just as he was about to send him off when he had a sudden thought and drew out another piece sheet.

Dear Ginny, (he wrote quickly)

I'll be seeing you tomorrow so I'm not really sure why I'm writing this, but I thought you'd appreciate the warning- and the apology. I didn't say goodbye to you, did I? I'm sorry. I wanted to get away and I reasoned that you didn't want or need me. There's a lot I want to say to you but I can't find the words, a lot I want to write but can't- at least now, I think, I'll have time to find my words. Ginny, I think it's now official I'll never be able to use the 'we could have had months, years!' line again.

I miss you. I want to see you- at not at the funeral either.

And I'm sorry, for everything and anything.

Harry

PS, This is the probably the worst letter I have ever written and probably the last of its kind. Maybe you can one day sell this as 'Harry Potter's only Love Letter' or nearly.

It seemed to Harry that he had crossed out most of his words and hastily re-wrote it, debating whether or not to cross off his post-mark, particularly the words, 'love letter'. In the end, he decided to keep it, hoping Ginny would find it humorous, and sent it before he change his mind. He watched Soot soar off into the sky, wishing he, Harry Potter, he exactly where he was goin as well.

.o0o.

A/N Short but needed I think- next chapter, the funerals. Sniff-sniff I can't believe she killed off Fred! The comic relief! 6 more reviews, please, for update.