A/N: Just as the end of the last chapter, I have nothing to say, really. Though I will say that, as I was writing the past chapter, I was on the verge of tears.

Disclaimer: Non habere neque semper possederat Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling habet ius. In other words, I don't own nor have I ever owned Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns that right.

~rAndOM sQuIRrel~

When we last left our beloved characters: "I'll go get my things."

~rAndOM sQuIRrel~

Ron woke up early the next morning, after getting very little sleep. Thoughts raced through his mind, as he had tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep. Finally he threw the covers off, dressed and went for a jog in the woods, as the next morning dawned.

After a while, he stopped at their old tree house. Climbing the stair-like branches, he made his way up to the place where he had played with his brothers and sister, so many years ago. He sat down on the balcony, legs dangling over the edge through the railing, watching the skyline just above the trees. His eyes fell upon a little brown squirrel, which he watched bounce around the top branches of an old oak, inspecting nuts and stuffing his cheeks full of little brown acorns. He stopped and looked at Ron for a moment, tilting his head, before turning a translucent, pale blue weasel.

Ron shook himself, as his father's voice came from the weasel patronus. "Come home for breakfast, son. Your mother is beginning to worry."

The sun was now much higher in the sky than when he had left that morning. Must've fallen asleep, he thought as he left the woods, passing through the orchard. As he mounted the hill he saw Hermione coming up the driveway, on his left, from the Apparation point.

"Good morning," he said, with a smile, as he approached her.

She smiled at him, "Good morning to you, too." He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. She broke the kiss after a few seconds, and they began walking up the hill towards the house. "How'd you sleep?"

Ron groaned, "Horribly," as they entered the house. Mr. Weasley sat alone at the table and looked up briefly from the Daily Prophet, giving Hermione a welcoming smile.

Before Hermione could ask why Ron had slept 'horribly', Mrs. Weasley spoke up as soon as they entered. "Good morning, Hermione dear, did you eat already?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied.

"Alright, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, before turning to Ron. "Have you seen Harry, Ron? He wasn't in his room when I brought up his laundry."

Ron's expression darkened. "He's-."

"Harry's gone, Mum," Ginny said angrily, entering the Kitchen and leaning on the doorway.

"What?" Hermione and Mrs. Weasley asked, incredulously. Mr. Weasley set down his paper looking to his youngest son for confirmation.

"He left last night," Ron said.

"I was afraid of this," Mr. Weasley said with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Why?" Hermione asked Ginny.

Ginny went to the stove and pulled off the whistling kettle, pouring herself a cup of tea, "Because he's a bloody idiot, with a hero complex," she said angrily.

"Ginevra!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Where'd he go?" Hermione asked.

"Don't know, don't care," Ron said, sitting himself at the table and piling food onto his plate.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley said, turning to her son, hands on her hips.

"He seems to think that by leaving, that we're all 'safer'," Ginny said, loathingly. "That we've been targeted, because he's here."

"But that's not true-," Mrs. Weasley began.

"We tried explaining that to him, Mum," Ron said with a sigh, "It's Harry, Mum. He's stubborn, and it's hard to change his mind."

Mr. Weasley inhaled slowly, then exhaled with a sigh. "Well, I'll check the Leaky Cauldron and see if he's staying there, when I head off for work."

"Isn't it a Sunday, Dad?" Ron asked.

"Yes, but Kingsley requested that I come in today at noon," he said.

"Why don't you three go into town and see if he's staying at an inn there?" Mrs. Weasley said. "Maybe you can get through to him if you find him." Ginny scoffed.

"That's bloody likely," Ron muttered. Mrs. Weasley glared at him, but said nothing.

~rAndOM sQuIRrel~

Ron reluctantly led the 'search team' of Hermione, Ginny, and himself into Ottery St. Catchpole to find Harry. The weather quickly turned cold and windy around noon and two of the three teens were forced out of the Burrow, jumpers in hand, by Mrs. Weasley and Hermione.

They had Apparated to the edge of town and made their way into town, checking in with the small bed and breakfasts around town, until the Weasleys' stomachs got in the way of their search around one.

"Fine," Hermione said to Ron. "We'll stop in the diner over there, after we ask for him here," she said, stopping in front of an old house that had been turned into an inn. They entered and stopped at the reception desk. Ron hit the service bell, and they looked around as they waited.

An older man entered and answered grumpily, "What can I do for you lot?"

"We're looking for a friend of ours," Hermione said kindly. "He would've checked in late last night."

"Name?" he asked gruffly.

"Harry Potter," she answered.

"Sorry," he said, turning around and shuffling back into the room he came from, "No one by that name, checked in last night."

Just as Hermione was about to give up, Ron spoke up, "Wait, but someone did check in last night."

The man stopped in his tracks and muttered an assortment of curse words under his breath, before turning and glaring at Ron.

"Who?" Ron said.

The man scowled at him, before answering, "A young man by the name of James Evans."

Ron looked knowingly at Hermione. "That's him."

"Which room is he staying in?" Ginny asked.

"I couldn't tell you that," the man said. "The customer's privacy would-."

"We didn't ask if you could tell us," Ron said, suddenly towering over the man, threateningly. "We asked which room he was staying in."

The little old man glared at him for a moment, then said, "Room 3. Up the stairs and to the right," before turning and shuffling out of the room.

"Quite the people person isn't he?" a voice said behind them. All three instinctively reached for their wands as they turned around, to face the speaker.

"No need for that here," said a man, only a few years older than themselves, leaning against a doorway leading to a small living room. "Put your wands away. I'm not gonna hurt you."

All three teens, replaced their wands, but eyed him carefully.

"Thought I recognized your friend, but couldn't place where I'd seen him before. Then I picked up the Daily Prophet this morning, and what do you know there's his face on the second page right along with yours," he said indicating to Ginny with a nod, "in Skeeter's column." He stepped forward, causing them all to twitch once more for their wands.

"Jumpy lot, you are," he said with a charming smile, "Understandable after all you've been through." He offered his hand. "The name's David."

Ginny eyed it for a moment, without accepting it, then turned back to him. "Where's Harry?"

David lowered his hand and shrugged. "Dunno. We stayed up and talked- well I did most of the talking, as he wasn't up to much conversation, but I got the feeling he needed some company. After all he was rather upset when he came in," David said. "I've got an inkling that it had something to do with you," he said to Ginny. When she didn't respond, he continued. "Anyway, he slept late, long after breakfast was served to our other guests, so he went out to the diner across the street for a bite to eat. He hasn't returned as of yet."

"Thanks," Ron said with a nod.

"Anytime," replied David. "And I apologize about Grandpa. He only keeps the old inn, open in memory of Grandma, and she enjoyed it far more than he did."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Told you we should've gone to the diner," Ron said quietly to Hermione, who lightly hit him on the chest. As they turned to leave, a rain soaked Harry came in the door.

"Brilliant," he muttered, walking past them and up the stairs.

"Harry," Ginny called after him, her anger with him, long forgotten. They heard a door slam upstairs, followed by indistinguishable yelling from the old man in the other room.

"He's a bit more surly than most would expect," David said, looking up the stairs. The trio ignored David's comment, and went up the stairs and stood in front of Harry's door.

Ginny rapped on the door. "Harry. Let us in. We need to talk." No response. She knocked again. "Harry." No response.

"He's not going to answer," Hermione said. "I guess we can wait-."

"Like hell," Ron said. "I'm bloody hungry." He stepped forward and hammered loudly on the door, "Harry! If you don't come out here and talk to us, I'm gonna break down this bloody door and drag you out!"

"You will do no such thing!" the old man yelled from downstairs.

"I'll count to three, Harry!" Ron bellowed. "One!" Nothing. "Two!" Nothing. "Alright, Harry I warned you!" Just as Ron was about to rush the door, Harry yanked it open.

"You're a pain in the arse, Ronald," Harry mumbled.

"Brilliant. I pride myself upon it," Ron said sarcastically.

"What do you want?" Harry sighed.

"For you to come home," Ginny said.

Harry looked at her. "You know why I can't," he said calmly.

"Your reasons were hippogriff shit, if you ask me," she said coldly.

"The thing is-," Harry began.

"Okay," Hermione said, "we're not going to have you two fight again." Harry was about to say something, but stayed silent at her death glare. "Now you're coming back home to the Burrow," she said.

"No, I'm not," Harry said calmly.

"We could always bring Mum into this," Ron said.

"I'd be packed and gone by the time you got back," Harry countered.

"Not if I were to magically bind you to Ginny," Ron said with a raised eyebrow. Harry was about to respond but was cut off.

"Harry, you're not safe on your own, if Death Eaters are really looking for revenge," Hermione said.

"I can handle it myself, thank you," Harry said as he began to close the door.

"Harry," she said, and he paused for a moment. "You're coming with us, even if we have to drag you out."

"Good luck with that," Harry said, closing the door again. Ron stopped it halfway, and wrenched it open, Harry trying to keep it closed, with little success.

"Face it, Harry," Ron said, showing little effort to hold the door against Harry's opposition. "I'm stronger than you. And I'll use that against you if need be." Harry scowled at him and released the door grudgingly.

~rAndOM sQuIRrel~

A/N: Okay, my idea started growing bigger and bigger, and I began to worry I couldn't resolve it soon enough, but it turned out nicely. A bit angsty- but alright… Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought! Working on Chapter 39 now! You can all tell my Co-Author to hurry up on the reviewing the chapters if you want them posted!