Author's Notes: This has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far. I think Mr. Weasley is easily overlooked and to be honest, anyone that raised Fred and George would be both very cunning and wise. So today he gets his just rewards.

For those who might be celebrating from the last chapter (and from this chapter) I want to remind you that Harry and Hermione still have a long way to go.

Please review if it stirs you.

Cheers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other property as owned by JK Rowling, whom I and countless adults and children owe the love of reading and writing. This story is for my own enjoyment.

Chapter 8: Mr. Weasley's Advice

It was quiet in the Burrow that night. Nearly all had retired for the evening after a long day of wedding preparations. Tomorrow was Bill and Fleur's big day. Ordinarily, Harry would have been content to go to bed like everyone else but his mind was racing at full speed. Ron and Hermione's argument still rang in his ears; they of course, had no idea he had overheard them. For Harry, knowing he was the reason his two best friends were fighting was painful. The argument reawakened his deepest fears. Hermione had spent those precious days at the Dursleys convincing him to put aside his guilt and to allow Ron and her to come with him. He had relented. He even acknowledged he didn't want to find Horcruxes by himself—no—more like he couldn't find the Horcruxes by himself. Now however, as he stood outside the Burrow looking up into a starless night sky, he came to the realization that he must go alone. It was the only way to save Ron and Hermione's relationship. He had packed his bag already. He inhaled deeply as though he were about to take a plunge into the frigid coldness of the Deep Lake. He concentrated on Grimmauld Place, ready to apparate.

"Long night, Harry?" Harry jolted to his senses and turned around. Mr. Weasley stepped out of the house. Harry's heart pounded. How was he going to convince Mr. Weasley he needed to leave?

"Isn't every night," answered Harry.

"Quite," said Mr. Weasley with a faint smile. "Going somewhere?"

"Mr. Weasley, I can't explain why I have to go, but I must," said Harry. "Dumbledore's orders."

"Oh I don't doubt you're telling the truth, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Walk with me for a bit?" Harry nodded.

"Splendid!" Mr. Weasely guided him towards the shed where he kept all his muggle contraptions.

"I'm surprised you're leaving without them," said Mr. Weasley once they were well out of ear shot of the Burrow.

"It wasn't the original plan," said Harry. "But it's better this way. I'm surprised you're not trying to stop us," Harry added.

"I've always admired your protective nature, Harry," he said with another smile. "Molly and I couldn't be more proud of you. Most of my family owes their lives to you—myself and Ginny in particular. As far as preventing you from leaving, I don't think we could if we tried."

"Mr. Weasley—about Ginny—you don't have to worry—I,"

"It's alright, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "When Dumbledore died I had a feeling you would break away. It's who you are. Molly, on the other hand, didn't take it so well." Harry looked at his feet. She hadn't conveyed any such disappointment to him.

"No need to feel guilty, Harry," he said quickly. "You'll always be a son to us; even without the red hair. Whether you become a son-in-law or not changes nothing. But I'd like to talk about Ron and Hermione if you'd indulge me?" Harry nodded, surprised that Mr. Weasley was not jumping down his skin at breaking with his daughter.

"Why now," he asked, "why now do you choose to leave them behind?"

"To keep them safe," said Harry quickly. "What I'm about to do is what Dumbledore and I were doing the night he died."

"Harry, Snape killed Dumbledore," said Mr. Weasley firmly. "Whatever you two were doing, it was not what killed him." Harry hesitated. How could he make Mr. Weasley understand?

"Dumbledore would not have died if he hadn't been weakened," said Harry, choosing his words carefully. "Dumbledore was weakened because of me—I let him do it. What I'm going to do—there will be more of it—more of the same kind of dangers that Dumbledore was exposed too. I won't bury them too, Mr. Weasley."

"And is that the only reason you're leaving them behind," asked Mr. Weasley. Something in his voice told Harry that Mr. Weasley knew more than he was letting on. Mr. Weasley must have noticed that Harry suspected as much as he elaborated further.

"You weren't the only one to overhear their argument today." They stood in silence for a few minutes as they stared at one another. Finally, Harry broke his gaze and turned his back to Mr. Weasley.

"Ron's right," said Harry. "They should go back to Hogwarts. Besides, I don't want—"

"You don't want to be the reason they're not together," answered Mr. Weasley. Harry nodded. "I can't tell you what to do, Harry, but I can tell you this much; Ron has never lived a difficult life—despite his awareness of the life you've been forced to endure, he remains ignorant and if truth be told, entitled to having things his way. I'd hoped that Ron would have learned his lesson during the Tri-wizard tournament—it would appear that's not the case. As for Hermione, let's just say I wouldn't want to be the one to tell her you left in the middle of the night—she'd follow you to the end, Harry—that's a true friend."

"Mr. Weasley, what would you do if you were me," asked Harry. "If you thought that Mrs. Weasley could get hurt, or could die, by coming with you, would you let her?" Mr. Weasley looked intently at Harry over his glasses.

"No, I suppose I'd try very hard to keep her safe," answered Mr. Weasley. "But I wouldn't succeed, Harry—Molly would go through any obstacle to be at my side—she's my best friend, you know. She would never leave me alone if she could do anything about it, just as I would where the situation reversed."

"But you're married," countered Harry, "that's understandable—Ron and Hermione are my friends and I could never live with myself if either of them were to die—they couldn't be together if that happened."

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley, his tone suddenly serious. "We all take a risk every day; we could die any moment and that won't change for Ron or Hermione if they stay behind. I'd even go so far as to say they'd be in more danger going to Hogwarts than with you. You-Know-Who is also very aware that you would go to any length to save them and that makes them a target. You know this better than most."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Weasley," said Harry. "At the very least, I think it's best that I not stay here tonight—I'll return for the wedding—and I won't be back after. Not until I've finished what Dumbledore started."

"Where will you go," asked Mr. Weasley.

"It's best I don't say," said Harry.

"What shall I say to Ron and Hermione?"

"I trust your judgment, but I'm sure Hermione at least will know where I've gone." Harry turned from Mr. Weasley, his thoughts returning to Grimmauld Place for a moment before he asked: "Mr. Weasley—thanks for not trying to stop me—I know Mrs. Weasley would try."

"She would," said Mr. Weasley giving Harry a quick nod, "But I won't, even though I want to. The last time Dumbledore spoke to the Order, his last words were for us to trust you—so I will."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley."

"It's Arthur, Harry." Harry gave him a brief smile.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley—er, Arthur?"

"Be careful." Harry nodded and Disapparated into the night.

() () ()

Mr. Weasley returned to the living room and sat down on his rocking chair, exhausted but determined. He knew it was only a matter of moments before Ron and Hermione realized that Harry had left. Mr. Weasley did not have to wait long; ten minutes later he heard a pair of footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

"Mr. Weasley, have you seen Harry?" asked Hermione. Mr. Weasley chuckled to himself seeing her worried expression. He was glad to see that Ron also appeared concerned about his friend's location.

"I have," said Mr. Weasley. "I just spoke with him not ten minutes ago; we were outside—he needed some fresh air." Hermione let a sigh of relief escape as her tense shoulders dropped.

"Thank goodness," she said. "We thought—for a moment—that he'd left." Mr. Weasley paused for a moment as he mentally prepared himself before answering.

"Oh, he's not here," said Mr. Weasley. "He left."

"WHAT?" Hermione had turned furious. "You let him leave?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"How could you let him do something so rash?"

"I don't think Harry is rash at all, at least not in this particular instance," said Mr. Weasley. "Now sit down please. I have a few things I'd like to say to you before you head off looking for him." Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again as Mr. Weasley's words caught up with her racing thoughts.

"You're—you won't stop us going after him?"

"Merlin's beard, no," said Mr. Weasley quickly. "He needs the both of you, I'm quite sure of that. At any rate, I don't think I could stop you if I tried. Now, if you'd please take a seat and keep quiet—I'd prefer that Molly not find out about this until morning." Ron and Hermione quietly took their seats on the couch with considerable distance between them.

"See, Hermione," said Ron. "Just like I told you, he doesn't—"

"Don't say it, Ronald," warned Hermione. "I can't believe he'd do this—especially after what we talked through."

"Well it's not a mystery to me," said Mr. Weasley. "He heard the two of you arguing earlier today; it would be enough to convince any honorable person to go off on their own." Hermione looked mortified. Ron simply sat in silence, his eyes wide. Mr. Weasley removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

"He wasn't the only one to overhear you either," he said. "I too heard more than enough to not care repeating any of it. You two are his best friends—the only two people in this whole world he'd let help him—are the two people who can't avoid an argument that centers entirely—and selfishly—on him. There isn't a single member in the Order who wouldn't drop everything they are doing to help him, to know what he's going off to do, only to be frustrated they can't do a bloody thing but trust him. I'm disappointed particularly with you, Ron."

"Dad, we—" began Ron but Mr. Weasley cut him off with an upheld hand.

"Don't even get me started with you, Ronald," said Mr. Weasley. He looked angry. "I'm ashamed that you'd even suggest that you and Hermione should return to Hogwarts when Harry needs you more than ever. Whatever he's doing, it was dangerous enough that Dumbledore didn't tell a single person in the Order—something that you two have been made privy too. It is more than apparent to me as well that it's exceedingly dangerous—dangerous enough that Dumbledore weakened himself in a way that only Harry understands—and you'd leave him to fend for himself. I don't know why, Ronald, it is that you are so jealous of Harry—don't deny it," he added cutting Ron off a second time, "that you are so jealous of Harry that you can't understand just how miserable a life he's lived. I think you know in your head that Harry would trade it all in a moment, but I don't think you believe it in your heart. Like Ginny, you can't separate Harry from the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm only going to say this once; if you cannot put your jealousy aside, then I think you should stay behind because Harry deserves better."

"Sorry, dad," said Ron. "I just—I want to help Harry, but I want to be with Hermione too." Hermione glared at Ron.

"And just what was it about going off with Harry was going to prevent that," asked Mr. Weasley

"I dunno," said Ron. "I just wanted to keep her safe, I guess, and—"

"You thought perhaps that Harry would steal her from you," Ron looked down to his feet guiltily.

"How dare you," said Hermione in a low growl. "You were just like this with Victor—But Harry—Harry of all people would never—Oh I should just hex you and be done with it." If she had not been furious before, she was livid now. Hermione reached across the sofa and wacked him hard in the head.

"Bloody hell," whined Ron as he rubbed the right side of his forehead.

"We've been through this already," scolded Hermione, "we're friends and that's how it's going to stay—I wasted a whole year waiting on you—to pursue me—to see if you'd grown up—and it's quite clear you haven't."

"Enough, you two, please," said Mr. Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley—Please—do you know where he's gone," asked Hermione. Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"He didn't say, Hermione. He said you'd know where to find him. I'll only say the same to you that I did to Ron; if you cannot keep the discord between you and Ron separate from Harry, you should stay behind as well. Whatever happened that night with Dumbledore is clearly eating away at him—he doesn't need his two best friends bickering at each other."

"Mr. Weasley, I've been more than clear just now," said Hermione, "about Ron and I's relationship. Unless Ron suddenly finds his emotional range to be greater than a teaspoon, there won't be anything further between us."

"Harry doesn't know that," said Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Then I'll tell him," she said. "Harry was my first friend at Hogwarts and is my best friend—he's never left me in all that time—I don't know what I'd do if I lost him—I won't lose him. If Ron does come along then I will do everything I can to get along with him, but I won't leave Harry. Even if that means I can no longer have Ron as a friend," she added, giving Ron a fierce gaze. She stood up and ran upstairs to collect her things and returned with the expandable hand bag she had enchanted. She slipped on her cloak and made her way to the door.

"I'm coming too," said Ron, standing up from the sofa.

"No, Ron," said Hermione. "We've done enough damage together—we both need our space to get ourselves right before we're together with Harry again—you heard your father and he's right. I'll find Harry—I need to earn his trust back and you'll need to do the same."

"I think that's wise," said Mr. Weasley. "Harry said he'd be back tomorrow for the wedding so you can see him then, Ron."

"Sounds like something Harry would say just so you'd let him go," said Ron.

"I don't think so," said Mr. Weasley. "He had no reason too—I wasn't going to stop him from leaving."

"How do you know where he went, Hermione," asked Ron.

"I think I know where he is," said Hermione. And with that, she walked out the door and Disapparated; it was time to see that memory.

() () ()

Harry sat in the darkness at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. It was comforting to Harry in some unexplainable way, to sit in the shadows and think as the darkness helped him to focus. He knew he couldn't stay in Grimmauld place forever despite the new Fidelius charm in place. The horcruxes would not destroy themselves. His mind raced between the possible horcrux items to desperately pondering who R.A.B was and if the locket had been destroyed. Harry also worried about his friends. What would they do when they found out he'd left? Would Mr. Weasley tell them why? He knew that Hermione at least would know where to find him. Still, he was unsure what he would say. He knew she'd be upset and he hoped he'd find some way to prove to her he'd never come between her and Ron.

"Harry Potter!" Harry felt his heart stop; it was Hermione. She did not sound happy.

"In here," said Harry, his voice echoing into the empty hallway. Moments later the kitchen was bathed in brilliant light and Hermione stood in the doorway of the kitchen her wand pointed directly at him. Harry braced himself for what he knew would come next—but it never happened. Instead, Hermione had thrown her arms around him.

"Don't ever do that to me again," she said. Harry was reeling from shock.

"I thought for sure you were about to jinx me," he said.

"I still might," she said. "But for now I'm just happy you made it here in one piece. It was foolish for you to leave by yourself." Harry looked away.

"Where's Ron," he asked while avoiding her eyes.

"He's still at the Burrow—don't worry—you'll see him tomorrow."

"I don't want to come between you two, Hermione," said Harry. "Ron's right, you should both go—"

"Ron and I are not together, Harry," interrupted Hermione. "We never were and we never will be as far as I'm concerned. That conversation you heard—you didn't hear everything; I told Ron I could never be with anyone who put themselves before their friend. I know he cares about you, Harry, but he still hasn't grown up, and I can't be with someone who still gets jealous over their best friend who happens to be wanted by the most powerful dark wizard of all time. Perhaps someday if he grows up—but I don't see that happening soon and I'm not going to wait forever."

"But, Hermione—I thought you two—that you liked him?"

"I did, Harry, but he hasn't changed," said Hermione sadly. "I thought he would, after all this time—all we do is argue. I'll still be his friend, that won't change. But enough about Ron and I, Harry—" she pulled gently on his face so they looked eye to eye with each other, "—I will never abandon you. So don't think you'll be able to leave me behind while you do something careless and heroic. You were my first friend, Harry, and you're my best friend." Her eyes were glistening with tears waiting to burst. Harry wiped the bottoms of her eyes gently with his thumbs as a stray thought raced through his mind.

She's beautiful when she cries.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Hermione. I just had to leave."

"I'd want to leave too, if it were me," said Hermione, breaking from the hug. "That's why I didn't jinx you, but be warned," she continued as she drew pressed her wand firmly to his chest, "If you leave me behind ever again, Voldemort will be the least of your worries."

"Noted," said Harry, looking at her wand nervously.

"Good," said Hermione. "Now, let's go to the living room—it's time to see that memory."

"Not tonight, Hermione," objected Harry. "I'm not ready for it."

"Of course not," replied Hermione softly, "That's why I'm here—that's why Dumbledore asked me to do it—because he knew you couldn't do it by yourself." She took his hand and guided him from the kitchen to the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, Hermione pulled from her enchanted hand bag the Pensieve, setting it between them on the table in front of them.

"I'm not going anywhere, Harry," she said in the same soft, tender voice. "No matter what I see tonight, I will not think any less of you." She picked up her wand and placed it to Harry's temple.

"Don't I have to do it, Hermione?"

"Just concentrate on the memory – I'll do it this time—I'll be gentle." Harry nodded and turned his thoughts to the cave; everything was dark, the wet jagged edges of the cliffside glistened in the moonlight and the bitter cold of seawater crashed against them.

"Are you ready?" Harry nodded, his thoughts still focused on the cave entrance.

"Subsidium Memoria," chanted Hermione. A few moments passed and Harry no longer felt the wand tip against his head and opened his eyes. Hermione gently flicked the memory into the Pensieve and looked to Harry. She grabbed his hand with hers and held firmly.

"I will never tell anyone what I see tonight, just like I'll never tell anyone about the other memories you've shared with me," said Hermione. "Even if you let me share them I don't think I would—I know it's completely selfish, but they're special to me—just like you. Do you trust me, Harry?"

"I do, Hermione," said Harry after a moment.

"Ready?" Harry nodded. They both stood, took a deep breath, and plunged into the Pensieve.