A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and please keep reviewing

Wedding Rings, and Other Things

"She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. . . . Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive . . ." – Dumbledore, OotP p 836

. . . he simply knew that the task . . . had to be completed before he could move a little farther along the dark and winding path stretching ahead of him . . . and which he now knew he would have to journey alone. –Harry, HBP p 636

And Harry saw very clearly . . . how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one . . . all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort . . . – Harry, HBP p 645

As Harry finished cleaning (he had decided not to leave any trace that he had ever been there, since he never expected to return, plus he didn't want a repeat of last year's mistake), Hedwig flew in with an urgent message that he was NOT, REPEAT NOT to take the Knight Bus. He was to wait for a member of the Order to fetch him shortly.

Having already washed and folded the bed linens, he now sat in the chair, absentmindedly scraping at the wax on the desk with his thumbnail. Aunt Petunia was the only one home to see him off, not that he thought they cared any more than he did. When she called up to him, Harry quickly brushed the wax crumbs into the empty rubbish bin, grabbed his pack and Hedwig in her cage, and bolted down the stairs, glad that someone had finally come for him.

His aunt was standing in the living room door, her expression troubled, yet guarded. "Harry, can you come in here please. I want to talk to you before you leave."

Harry placed his bag and Hedwig by the door, followed her into the living room and tentatively positioned himself on the edge of the sofa. Aunt Petunia sat down at the other end, took a small brown envelope out of her apron pocket and slid it toward him across the cushions. It was addressed to Petunia Dursley, in a familiar hand that Harry couldn't quite place at the moment. He opened the envelope, and removed a small box, before glancing up at his aunt.

"They were sent to me after your parents' death. Go on. Open it. We never knew what to do with them. Vernon thought we should sell them. But I couldn't."

Harry lifted the lid. One gold ring was in the box, but when he touched it with the tip of his finger, it slid apart into two rings. Harry picked each one up separately and looked attentively at them. He could feel great love. He laid them on the coffee table and they magnetically or magically moved together and joined into one ring again.

"They're your mum and dad's wedding rings. I think they would have wanted you to have them."

"Where's the other one?" Harry blurted. "There would have been an engagement ring, too!"

Petunia glanced down. Her left hand was on the sofa beside her, hidden from Harry's view.

"Where is it?" Harry angrily shouted, sure of the answer.

Petunia lifted her hand and removed the engagement ring Harry had seen earlier in her room. "Harry," she paused, her voice quivering. She tried again, "Harry, I'm sorry. I know you can't understand this and you'll never forgive me, but we had our reasons for everything we did. The reasons were wrong, I know that now. . . . But Harry, I'm the one you should blame. I'm the only one who knew – was in a position to know . . . and understand. Vernon and Dudley are innocent. There's no way they could have comprehended the consequences of their actions.

When I received the rings after your parents' death, Vernon was trying to move up the corporate ladder. He hadn't bought me an engagement ring. He couldn't afford one. At first, I wore your mum's only to impress Vernon's business connections. Then I started to wear it almost all of the time. I would tell myself that Lily wouldn't mind, after all, I was raising her son for her. But your mother would have minded, because she would have minded how I was raising you."

His aunt held the ring out. Harry took it. It felt like it had earlier. He knew it was his mum's but somehow it felt . . . tainted. Perhaps it was because his aunt had worn it. Perhaps because she had worn it for the wrong reasons. It was just like them not to let their dislike of all things magic stand in the way of money and image. He remembered Vernon's hungry remark last year when Dumbledore mentioned that Harry had inherited a house. He thought of the many dinners to impress business acquaintances where he had been sent to Mrs. Figg's or locked away.

Was this the same ring that once had scratched his check when Aunt Petunia had grabbed and yanked him into his cupboard? He didn't want it.

"Who sent you the rings?"

"I don't know."

"You shouldn't have worn it. I don't want it now. You might as well keep it," Harry said, handing the ring back to her. She looked at him thoughtfully a moment before slipping it back onto her finger.

"Thank you, I . . . your mother would . . . "

"My mother . . ."

The doorbell rang. Harry stood up, turning away from his aunt. He dropped the box of wedding bands into his pocket as he left the room. Grabbing his stuff, he reached for the knob.

"Harry. . ." Aunt Petunia touched his arm from behind. Weariness and sadness edged her voice, and she suddenly sounded much older. "Harry . . . take care."

Harry stiffened, his back toward her, hesitating. He had not anticipated this sudden display of emotion, not after all of these years -- but it was too late. He jerked the door open to see Tonks, leaning against the door jamb, her hair flaming pink.

"Wotcher, Harry. Ready to go? Said your goodbyes an' all?"

Harry glanced back at his aunt standing small and wet-eyed under the hall lamp. "Yeah, I've been ready."

Bill and Fleur's wedding was a breath of fresh air. It was as though the whole Wizarding world had been submerged in murky waters since Dumbledore's death and now they could finally surface, exhale, and breathe again. Even the Death Eaters appeared to be in shock – as if they were unsure who their enemy now was. There had been no attacks or deaths since Dumbledore's, except a rumour that Narcissa had disappeared from her home in the middle of the night. Some said Voldemort was looking for her. Others said he had killed her.

Remembering Draco, Harry briefly wondered what had happened to him, but it did not occupy his mind for long. There was way too much commotion at the Burrow to actually think about anything! He had never seen the Weasleys in such disarray. It didn't help that Ron was using magic to do every little thing, often with very poor results. With all the confusion and activity, Harry barely had time to turn around, much less explain all that he had learned. And luckily, Ginny was so busy that they rarely crossed paths.

Of course, he couldn't avoid watching her float down the aisle. She had her haired pinned up in curls so that the nape of her neck was visible. Harry was mesmerized. There were these little wispy tendrils of hair that just cried to be kissed. When everyone cheered and clapped as Bill and Fleur exited down the aisle followed by Ginny and Gabrielle, Harry realized he had missed the entire wedding. He sheepishly looked around. One wouldn't need Legilimency to know Harry's heart. He briefly wondered if he was giving up what he most treasured for no real reason, but quickly pushed the thought from his head. Good thing Ron and Hermione had eyes only for each other.

At the reception, everyone was having too much fun for Harry to spoil it by brooding. Ron and Hermione seemed to have left their dreamy mood in the church and were intent on keeping Harry occupied with the help of Fleur's Veela relations who kept asking him to dance and which he found he couldn't refuse. He did occasionally catch sight of Ginny out of the corner of his eye, but she was always headed somewhere and the vision was gone in an instant.

As soon as things got back to normal at the Burrow, Harry discovered that Ginny was leaving for Hogwarts to complete her O.W.L.s. It seemed the board had decided that a summer session for those who wanted to take their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s would be the best way to judge whether the school should re-open in the fall. Harry hoped Hogwarts would, though he had already sent a message to Headmistress McGonagall stating that he would not be returning.

About a week later Apparition classes started up. Harry chose to skip them. Ron however, signed up and was gone for hours at a time. Hermione had been Apparating to a different Wizard library almost every day since school was out, and continued to do so. When they did find time together they would practice picking up on energies, discuss whatever useful information Hermione had found, and plan their trip to Godric's Hollow. Before he knew it, Harry was celebrating his birthday, followed the next day by another party to celebrate Harry and Ron's passing of their Apparition test. The very next morning, despite Mrs. Weasley's protests, they dressed in Muggle clothes and Apparated to Godric's Hollow to see what they could find.

"It's not safe!" Mrs. Weasley had wailed. "Why do you have to go? Ron, I forbid you to go."

"But Mum, Harry wants to see his parents' graves. We're of age! You can't stop us from going . . ." At the grim look on his Mum's face he quickly added, ". . . at least not Harry and Hermione. . . . And it's safer if we all go. We can look out for each other. You have the clock to keep track of me. If you see that I'm in danger, then you can send someone to help us all. Without me along, you won't know anything that's happening with Harry and Hermione!"

"Merlin's beard, I'll be worried sick. Promise me you'll be really careful and come right back." It didn't seem to occur to any of them that the clock already said "mortal danger" for Ron and had for some time.

Fortunately, there was no trouble. Unfortunately, they didn't find anything either. They sensed where the Potter's cottage had been, and the magical residue of the battle, but that was all. Harry did get to visit his parents' graves. They had a single headstone and yes, he noticed that there was a lily carved on it, but it was otherwise oddly devoid of any feeling. That surprised him. Now that he recognized the feel of energies, he was sure he had felt Dumbledore's presence at his grave stone last June. Maybe, there was nothing here because his mum and dad had died so long ago.

Just a few days later, during dinner, they got their lists of supplies for school. Apparently, Ron had been hoping that Hogwarts would close, because he hadn't informed his parents that he wasn't planning to return. Everything was made more complicated by the fact that there was a note accompanying Ron's list stating that if Harry definitely wasn't attending, then Ron would be Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, that is, if enough students returned to make house teams feasible. Plus Ron and Hermione had made Head Boy and Head Girl. Mrs. Weasley was absolutely gushing one minute, and arguing with Harry the next, when Ron blurted, "Mum, please, give it a rest! It doesn't matter! None of us are going back. We're going to help Harry."

Harry had never seen Mr. and Mrs. Weasley so upset. It turned into quite a row. For over an hour Mrs. Weasley jumped between furiously scolding Ron and imploring him, betrayal and anger swirling in her eyes. Eventually, Ron stomped out and Harry could hear him all of the way up the long staircase to his room. Mrs. Weasley turned her accusing eyes on Harry, then Hermione, and lastly, her husband. Harry wanted to say he was sorry, but couldn't speak, his stomach was twisting so wildly. Hermione dropped her fluid eyes, her lips trembling. Mr. Weasley, who had grown quiet as his wife became increasingly agitated, softly uttered, "Molly, dear . . ." but was cut off by Mrs. Weasley violently jerking her hand skyward, sending all of the dishes crashing to the floor before sweeping from the room.

Harry didn't dare look at Mr. Weasley for fear of what he would see. He could feel his eyes on him. He stumbled out into the garden, and stared, blinking at the stars. It was all his fault. What a horrible way to repay their kindness. Does everyone I care about have to suffer, sacrifice . . . even die because of me? Much later when Harry lumbered up the steps and into the room he shared with Ron, he found that Ron had ripped all of his Cannons posters off of the wall.

Ron was in bed, his rigid back turned toward the door, pretending to be asleep.

"I'm sorry. I really wish you and Hermione would return to Hogwarts. . . . Please. . . it would be the best thing all around. I . . . I really think I'm meant to do this on my own. After all, I'm the chos . . ."

Harry didn't get to finish. Ron twisted over in his bed, his face contorted with rage. "Will you just shut up, already! Am I your best mate or not? I'm so tired of your high and mighty attitude. You think you're the only one with a gripe against Voldemort!" Ron spat the word out without his usual hesitation. "You think you're the only one with something to lose! Well, you're not! So just shut up!"

"Bloody hell! I'll never get the hang of cooking," Ron complained two days later as he placed a piece of burnt toast on each of their plates. Mrs. Weasley wailed whenever she saw any of them and had taken to her room. She no longer cooked their meals or did any of the cleaning. She had told them that if they weren't going to go to school, then they had better learn to fend for themselves.

Harry had used some of his money to purchase food. (He had never really considered Wizard economics before: how he had to buy some things and could conjure others out of the air. Now he understood that conjuring could either be a tangible illusion or a method of calling to you items you already owned, were "purchasing on credit," borrowing, or taking – i.e. stealing.)

Cooking was proving more difficult. "I think she's angrier at me than she ever was at Percy! She was already upset because Ginny didn't do quite as well as expected on her O.W.L.s. – probably your fault, mate." Ron shot Harry a disgruntled glance. "So when I made Captain and Head Boy . . . Blimey! I wonder how long she can keep this up? It's not like I don't like Hogwarts, like I didn't always dream of being Captain. Of course, they only gave it to me because you, and a lot of others, aren't going back. For Merlin's sake, I thought they would understand how important this is!"

"How, can they?" Hermione interjected. "We can't tell them anything about the horcruxes. We haven't told them anything that they can understand. Listen though, I've been thinking, maybe we should all return to school . . ."

"Hermione! We have to help Harry!"

"No, Hermione is right," Harry quickly added. "I never meant for you to leave school. It's not fair. Ron, this is exactly what you've always wanted, what you saw in the Mirror of Erised. And Hermione, I know how important school is to you. Not finishing will affect your whole future."

"Go on! We won't have a future if we don't get rid of You-Know-Who!" Ron insisted, his voice rising. "Wait a minute. . . does this mean . . . yeah, of course, you wanted to be an Auror – you need to be an Auror – and you can't be an Auror if you don't pass your N.E.W.T.s with top grades."

"Not according to Scrimgeour. If I threw in my lot with him I could be an Auror tomorrow," Harry answered. "But I've been thinking Dumbledore had it right. A job with the Ministry is not for me anyway."

"Listen, we can all return to Hogwarts, and still search for the horcruxes. We're of age and able to Apparate now," Hermione pointedly said. "Hogwarts is still one of the safest places, plus we will be learning things we might need. They have the best library I know of, and believe me I know all the libraries within Apparating distance. And, . . . and Harry, Dumbledore told you that there's a lot of old magic there. It's a resource that we shouldn't squander."

"Right, you two return to Hogwarts . . . no, hear me out," Harry hastily added to stave off Ron's and Hermione's protests. "I . . .I just can't . . . not yet, anyway. I'll go to Grimmauld Place where I'll be safe. If I discover anything worthy, we'll go during a school break if there's no rush. If there is, we'll figure out a way to get you two out of classes.

"In the meantime, learn everything you can that might be of help, especially how to destroy a horcrux. I'll join the Order. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will have them patrolling Hogwarts again. Later in the year, I'll get myself assigned there on a regular basis. By then, I'm sure I'll be able to manage short stays. They'll consider it a relatively safe job for me. We can exchange information, and you can teach me any important stuff that you've learned. And," Harry added tossing the piece of burnt toast into the rubbish, "they have great food!"

Ron offered one more objection, though Harry could tell by his demeanor that a weight had been lifted. "What if you figure out something in the middle of the night and you have to get there quickly because you know You-Know-Who is on his way and you don't have time to wait for us?"

Hermione smiled, "I'm sure the Order will help, if you told them that you're trying to learn everything you can about Voldemort, which is the truth and obviously necessary. If you needed a book, let's say, or someone to Apparate to Hogsmeade to get us, I'm sure they would offer their assistance. Or, of course, in the event of Ron's very likely scenario." Hermione winked at Harry.

They all laughed.

"Okay, that's settled." Hermione said as if they had all agreed.

Harry was pleased. He was concerned about endangering his friends and had been searching for a way to discourage them ever since last spring. Now that Dumbledore was gone, Harry had realized that he was meant to do this on his own. At Grimmauld Place he would be free to come and go as necessary, while his friends remained safe at Hogwarts. Besides, he didn't expect any immediate outings to be any more fruitful or dangerous than Godric's Hollow had been.

Harry went along when they all Apparated to Diagon Alley. He would need money, and they had planned an excursion to Borgin & Burkes to see what they could find. Ron told the greasy haired proprietor that he was looking for a dainty cup, or perhaps a locket, as a present for his girlfriend, and otherwise kept him distracted. Harry, under his Invisibility Cloak, and Hermione rummaged through all of the shelves, and opened all of the drawers and boxes, careful to read the cards and touch only those things that were non-toxic. They found plenty that made their skin crawl, but nothing that caused Harry's scar to burn. Harry crossed one more possibility, for now, off his mental list.

Having got that ordeal out of the way, they decided they needed cheering up with a stop at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They also needed to pick up Ginny's school supplies. She had talked Professor McGonagall into letting her stay at Hogwarts between the summer and fall sessions as an assistant to Hagrid for extra credit. Professor McGonagall had agreed, seeing as how Ginny's test scores honestly did not reflect the quality of work she'd done in the past.

A short week later, Harry was seeing them off at King's Cross. Ron and Hermione, as Head Boy and Girl were travelling by train again.

"Here, you might need this." There was an odd feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach as he shoved the Marauders' Map into Ron's hand. "Send me the Quidditch schedule and I'll try to time my visits so that I'm there to watch the games."

Harry then turned to Hermione who threw her arms around him and began to sob on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Just get me the info I need, and look after this knucklehead," Harry said nodding in Ron's direction. "And make sure Ginny is all right, will you?"

Hermione pulled back and nodded. Grabbing Ron's arm she mumbled, "We better get to the front of the train. It's about to leave. Goodbye, Harry. Remember you promised not to do anything without us," she said over her shoulder as they hurried away.

Harry didn't answer. He hadn't promised any such thing.

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