Chapter Ten

Back To The Burrow

"Okay, is everybody ready to leave? Disapparate on three! One… Two… Wait a second, where's Percy? Oh, there you are, come over here! Okay, One… Two… Three!" Mr. Weasley instructed.

With the familiar spinning and disoriented sensation, the entire Weasley family, landed heavily on their feet in front of the tall, crooked house that Harry had come to know as the only real home he had other than Hogwarts.

Brushing herself off, Mrs. Weasley straightened. "Okay, all of you go and mingle, I'll be in the kitchen… Preparing dinner." Mrs. Weasley's voice wavered. "Arthur, come with me."

Mr. Weasley nodded solemnly. "Of course, dear."

They led the rest of the group into the Burrow. Harry brushed off his feet politely on the doormat before walking through the front door, peering around the kitchen.

The usually cheerful and cozy home seemed darker to Harry, and there was a somber aura about it all.

Harry had barely taken a few steps into the house before Ron grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Maybe we should go up to my room." He suggested, his voice low. Harry noticed that most of the other Weasley's had cleared out of the kitchen as well, except for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who sat at the kitchen table, heads down.

Harry nodded, and followed Ron and Hermione up the long and winding staircase. Harry felt a sharp stab of sympathy as they passed Fred and George's room, the door ajar. Harry peered inside, though it was seemingly empty. It was exactly the same as it had been when Harry had stayed in it, the burn marks black against the white ceiling and colorful Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products streaming the floor.

Ginny's door was closed shut, but they could hear voices conversing inside.

"Are you sure your Mama would not like some help?" One of the voices asked, it's thick French accent proving that it could only be Fleur. The second voice Harry immediately recognized as Ginny.

"No. I'm sure she'd be very grateful for the offer, Fleur, but I think she means to be alone."

"And she has Mr. Weasley down their with her anyway, Fleur. I think they just need some alone time." The third voice undoubtedly belonged to Hermione. Harry jogged up the stairs to catch up with Ron. Another door was open, this one, as Harry observed, filled with all four of Ron's older brothers. They sat sprawled out in different sections of the small room, pondering in complete silence.

The door to Ron's room was at the top of the staircase, and by the time he reached it, Harry's chest throbbed.

Madame Pomfrey had informed Harry as he was being let out of the hospital ward that the bruise on his chest had been caused when the killing curse had failed to kill him. The curse wasn't supposed to work that way, so instead of stopping Harry's heart, it had spread through him, inflicting the bruise on his chest and a few fractured ribs. Madame Pomfrey had been able to heal the ribs, but the bruise had to be healed itself, as it had been caused by such a strong curse. She had reassured him that it would be sore for a couple of weeks, and had given Harry a few potions to help with the pain if he needed them.

He collapsed onto the mattress on the floor of Ron's room, still laid out from when Harry had stayed at the Weasleys the summer before. In fact, the room looked exactly the same as it had then. Harry was glad for that. At least he knew some things hadn't changed.

Ron pulled out his wand, waving it obliviously making small, colorful sparks burst out of it's tip.
"Why didn't you say goodbye?" Ron tossed his wand onto his bedside table, eyes gazing up at the ceiling. Harry blinked, puzzled.

"What?"

"Hermione and I, why didn't you tell us goodbye before you went to Voldemort?" Ron's voice didn't sound angry, just hurt.

"If I had told you where I was going, what I was doing, I doubt you would have let me." Harry replied, picking at the frayed edges of the mattress.

"Darn right we wouldn't have." Ron exasperated. "What were you thinking? How could you have done that to Hermione? To me? I thought best friends were supposed to tell each other everything, especially when they're about to go off and sacrifice themselves to noseless murderers like our good ol' pal Voldy."

Harry chuckled faintly. "Well, at least you've got that last part right. But…" Harry frowned. "I wouldn't have been able to tell you. I'm just one wizard, Ron. This is the entire magical world, we're talking about. Sometimes you've just gotta make sacrifices like this, you know." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "For the greater good."

"Stop quoting Dumbledore on me." Ron snapped. "Okay, I get your point. But it still hurt."

"I know it did" said Harry. "And I'm sorry, I wouldn't have done it if I had had any other choice. But I often don't." Harry finished, before smirking. "As Dumbledore always said, 'Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak." He could practically feel Ron's glare.

"I told you, stop quoting Dumbledore." He grumbled.

"Why not?"

"Because," Ron's hands flew up. "It makes you sound like Hermione."

"Oh yeah, Hermione. Look at you two, always making kissy faces at each other." Harry did a horrible imitation of what Ron looked like with Hermione around.

"Shut it, Harry. Speak for yourself!" Ron threw a pillow at his best friend, hitting Harry in the face. The corners of Ron's mouth turned upward. "It's Ginny this, and Ginny that. At least I don't stalk my girlfriend's door-" He was cut off when Harry through the lumpy pillow back at him, hitting his friend in the chest.

They laughed, but their laughter was drowned in what sounded like somebody running up the stairs. The door burst open, and George and Ginny stumbled inside, tripping over each other in the small space. They both looked extremely panicked, brown eyes wide with shock.

"Whats going on?" Ron was already on his feet, wand in hand. The smell of smoke hung heavily in the air.

"Get up Harry! We've got to go!" Yelled George, grabbing a slightly dazed Harry by the back of his shirt and hoisting him onto his feet, more serious than Harry had ever seen him.

"Where are we going? What's happened?" Harry demanded, not really sure he wanted to know.

"The remaining Death Eaters," Ginny explained, gripping Harry's arm tightly. "They came. They have mum."