Disclaimer: I don't own it.

"I'm not," he replied evenly, finding his voice. "I told you I have to go. If I can't train where I was, then I'll go find somewhere else. The longer I stay here, the more time I waste that Voldemort could be finding a new way to recover a body. I should be… training, researching."

"Then take us with you," Ginny countered.

"You're still in school," Harry shot back, and immediately regretted it. The crowd was still watching with some sort of morbid curiosity as Ginny jabbed him in the chest.

"Don't you try that on me Harry Potter."

"Hey Harry," Hermione said, breaking up the conversation.

"What," He snapped, finally turning the crowd to find Hermione settled at a table in the back.

"I've found something you'll find of interest," She replied, holding up a small tome.

"I doubt it; that came from my luggage right, I've seen that book, it's one of Dumbledore's."

"We'll see what's interesting and what isn't."

"Ginny, Ron, Luna, Neville and I went to the Headmistress' office to talk to… Dumbledore's portrait. He didn't say too much, but he told us he sent some of his things to you. He told us that he figured you wouldn't open this, that this was among it. It's a journal, Harry. It gets very thick near the end of it. The last sentence reads as follows. 'And now, Harry Potter and I embark on a journey that Sybil Trelawney predicted as my last.'" Harry shot her a cold, silencing look.

"Don't go quoting his wisdom in public. You and I both know the chaos that could result." The room around stared apprehensively, and then the crowd seemed to break into smaller groups, but Neville strayed over to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ginny was standing a ways away, talking to the last remaining Creevey brother. After a few seconds, she too came. Harry heard, faintly Maleck and Rudra trying to catch his attention, but couldn't focus too hard on anything.

"You are not well?"

"I am fine, Rudra, Maleck," he assured them after a moment of silence stretched farther throughout the group. It wasn't for lack of conversation, for Harry himself could have burst into screams right then, screaming about being forced back, among other things. But, he knew he had no right. He had no right to be angry at anyone, to harbor ill feelings toward anyone. He had committed homicide, had taken off the head of Tom Riddle.

"What else did he tell you?"

"His pensive, it seems in his will he ordered someone, we're not sure who, to drain his mind into several different bottles. He left it to you, I'll assume you've already looked at it." Harry nodded. "He left several riddles that one." Hermione took a deep breath and continued. "There was one last thing, Harry, he told us that in the journal he left you a letter. I picked it out the minute you got here, so that it'd be safe, I think it's important." From her robe pocket she revealed an envelope addressed to Harry in Dumbledore's elegant handwriting.

Ginny sank into a chair beside Hermione, and he followed suit. In his shaking right hand he held the contents of the envelope, staring at the faded parchment numbly. Suddenly Ginny's hand took his, steadying it. With a soft smile, he used his other hand to open the folded parchment and began to read, not at all minding the other three doing the same. Had he known what was contained, he would have read it alone.

Dear Harry,

You're reading this, and thus it is quiet the good assumption that I am dead and gone. Though, as I said in your second year, I won't be gone until all loyalty to me is. And thus, I give you this final word along with some of my personal effects. I wonder if you will hate me now, or find anger with me, as you did in your fifth year, to hear that I have kept one more, rather significant secret from you. You have spent a little over 15 years (as of the time this was written) living under the impression that your aunt, uncle and cousin were the only family that remained. I must confess and apologize for this lie. Yes, you hate me now, I assume. I do not blame you. Your father, was unaware of who his own grandfather was. His grandfather is a strict, grumpy rather foolish old man, who had disowned your grandmother when she married your grandfather, James Potter's grandfather is none other than the owner and barman of the Hogs Head, Aberforth Dumbledore.

Aberforth is my younger sibling. I guess, in some ways that makes me something of an uncle to you, and, I now apologize that my part in your life was not taken more seriously. Harry, if you hate me, I blame you not, but know that this revelation came to me merely days before the battle at the Ministry of Magic, learning it over a drink with an already well drunk man. We were all under the impression that he had disowned his daughter for running away, that she had changed her name and left. Well, this is partially true, she did change her name and leave. Harry, I leave you now with this simple request. Never forget, there are things much worse than death.

Love (If you'll forgive the pun, dear boy.)
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Neville's gaze traveled up to Harry's face, and his hand came up to the boy's shoulder, the opposite shoulder was where Ginny rested her hand, though now it rose and stroked his cheek soothingly. "Way. Too. Fast." Harry said, putting the letter down. "This is going too fast. I shouldn't have gone over and gone through this. I shouldn't have. I need to go." He stood from his chair suddenly, taking the letter with him. "I shouldn't have come back at all. Something happens, always." Harry turned away from the table and made for the portrait hole.

Before he could reach it Ginny had hold of his arm and Ron the other. "Harry, you can't just keep running away from it," Hermione was trying to reason with him now.

"I know," he admitted, trying to pull his arms from their grips anyway. "I don't want to face it though," he finished, relaxing as one grip left him and was replaced by a copy of the other. Ginny's slightly smaller hands gripped his arm, their warmth capturing him and spreading through him, so that his whole, tense body slacked, perhaps too much. Harry reached out to steady himself on the back of Neville's chair.

"Harry, I think you should go see-" he spun quickly around, eyes landing on the brunette.

"Hermione, if you think I'm going to go all the way to Hogsmeade to see some Great Grandfather who disowned my grandmother and has yet to bother to give more than a passing glance to me- save for the scowl during my fifth year –then you are dead wrong." he finished, puncturing the silence of the room rather effectively.

Nobody spoke, but he saw the questions on all of their faces, and chose not to answer them.

"No Harry, I meant you should go see Dumbledore's portrait. He may have more to say to you than he did to us." Harry's eyes closed, strained, almost pained again.

"That'd be even worse."

"It'll need to be done," Neville interjected in a very Luna-like way; stating the obvious

.

"Go to bed," Ginny commanded around an hour later. "Go to bed, you're dead tired." Harry sighed. He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in front of him, his head in his hands, his eyes drooping low. He didn't think that if he laid down that he would be able to sleep though. A sense of dread crushed him, pushing at him from all sides. He was related to a Dumbledore, Harry had a Wizard relative out there, no matter how grumpy he may always seem.

Did he really want to see this man though? The few times he had seen him, it had not been a pretty sight, in fact more often then not he would get a piercing glare here or there. However, he was a legal adult and it was time he started acting like it. "Next Hogsmeade visit?"

"In about two weeks," Hermione said.

"Too long," He replied and continued thinking.

"If you wanted to go, you could go tomorrow, you're an adult," Harry remained silent. "Sure if you're caught they'll take points from you… but… you are an adult…."

"This is family, go now if you want Harry. I have some floo powder upstairs; Gran wanted me to have it in case something went wrong." Neville was suddenly very adamant about it, and Harry knew why. Family was something to be cherished, no matter what. Harry stood, he was too tired… maybe he could go after breakfast tomorrow.

"Harry! Don't you even THINK about going tonight," Harry felt Ginny latch onto his arm, steadying him. He was way too tired. "Come on, up to bed."

"I don't wa-"

"Yes you do!"

"Yes ma'am," he replied, giving in.

As they ascended the steps, Harry clearly heard someone mimicking the sound of a whip and saw Dean's arm pulled back erratically. He'd have to hex him later. "Here's your dorm," she said, because he had just removed his glasses. "You're sure you're alright, Harry?"

He shook his head, making it clear that he wasn't at all sure, and opened the door. His stuff was at the foot of a four poster which was set so that he could look out the window easily. He allowed himself to sink onto the bed, feeling immediately tired and alone. Of course, a few second's later, Ginny sat beside him.

He felt her arm snake its way around him and her head slowly lean on his shoulder. "Do you want company for a while, Harry?" If he were in any other state of mind he'd shake his head and bid her goodnight, but right now, he didn't want to be alone. This struck him as funny considering all he had wanted a few days ago was to be alone until he wasted away. He couldn't do that. He still had a purpose, an obligation to them. Why? Why would I have an obligation to THEM? He felt himself being pulled down and allowed himself to lie back, before he felt warmth at his side. Ginny moved closer, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Ginny… won't Ron," he trailed off mumbling. He couldn't remember what he was going to say, and felt himself being covered in the blanket as Ginny moved even closer. Her head slowly turned until it was buried in his neck, her warm breath softly caressing the very delicate and sensitive skin in the crook of his neck. The sleep over took him as he wrapped his arms about the girl, pulling her to him so they both lay on their side, facing each other. She watched, with a smile, as Harry Potter's eyes closed.

His body relaxed greatly in her arms and he fell loose. Ginny, however drew herself close to him once more and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'll protect you Harry. Even though you protect me a lot better." When his breathing had steadied, she looked up at him. His face was in a state of pure contentment, he was just like the soft, happy Harry that Ginny had first seen at Kings Cross, instead of the pained man he was now. A hooting noise made it known to Ginny that Hedwig was at the dormitory window, a letter in tow. She stood and walked across to the window where she allowed the bird to enter and took the letter from it. She was not shocked when it's eyes hovered on Harry for a moment, then she turned and flew out of the window. Ginny held the rolled parchment curiously; it wasn't even in an envelope. On the bit of it she could see a signature. Arthur Weasley.

Immediately she became nervous, why was her dad sending her a letter now? And with Hedwig? She unrolled the parchment, slowing sitting down on the bed beside Harry.

Dear Harry,

Molly and I are thrilled that you have written to us about this, and do not worry about any tardiness, we don't mind. We want to thank you for confiding in us, which is more than anyone else has done. Of course we wondered when you avoided Ginny so much at the party, but… well, that's the way things are I guess. I'm glad everything is alright; I wish you would tell people where you are though, Ginny included. We're sorry for the wait for our reply, we wrote Ron, and Charlie, and Bill about this, we wanted the whole of the Weasley's to know. Unfourtunately, Fred and George got the letter before we did, and are probably going to send you a set of 'I told you so's so be ready.

We're so happy you're courting our daughter, and Molly, just to warn you, is ranting already about grandchildren. I do hope you'll be careful next time you see her?

Arthur Weasley