Harry Potter and the Last Goodbye
It was late at night and the rain hammered the grime covered windows at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. A light was on in the drawing room though no passerby would ever see it. Not unless they were a wizard, and even then not unless they knew the address and had been let in on the secret of Number Twelve's existence. This suited Harry Potter just fine.
Even after the events with Voldemort, now just over two years past, the attention Harry received from everyone made him uncomfortable. He'd never liked it, despite Draco Malfoy's constant assertions otherwise.
Harry, now a bit older and considerably wiser, sat alone in what had once been the home of his Godfather, Sirius Black. His best mate and first friend at Hogwarts, Ron Weasley, was off with his other best friend and loyal confidante, Hermione Granger. She'd gone to Australia to put things right with her parents and taken Ron with her.
The Weasley's had made it clear that Harry was welcome to stay with them even in Ron's absence, and knowing full well that Harry was dating their youngest daughter, Ginny. They didn't care. Harry was a bonus child to Mr. & Mrs. Weasley and that's all there was to it thank you very much.
And most nights Harry did stay with them. He didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings and Mrs. Weasley was easily the best cook Harry had ever known. But Number Twelve was his place and sometimes he just needed to be alone. They understood, but he knew Mrs. Weasley worried just the same. Still, they enjoyed having someplace to go while in London that was close to the Ministry.
Harry knew he needed to finish some work he'd been assigned for them, but he had another project that needed finishing first. It was this project that had him awake now, in the wee hours of the morning. The mud on his shoes and the hem of his traveling cloud drying in the heat of the fire Kreacher, Harry's house elf, had made. The pot of tea sat untouched on the table. Wisps of steam now barely visible from the spout of the teapot. It was mostly forgotten anyway.
On the table, sitting unobtrusively in the saucer left for his teacup, was an unremarkable stone. It was this stone that had been calling to Harry night after night since Voldemort fell. It had taken him a long time to find it. Nearly two years. Part of the reason was because he could only look for the stone when he wasn't busy with other things, which were rare occasions. The other reason why it had taken so long to find is that this was a quest Harry wanted to complete by himself. He needed to do this alone.
So Harry had begun looking for the Ressurection Stone. Hermione knew he was up to something, but had been kind enough to leave Harry to it. Ginny, too, had cottoned on quickly enough that Harry was doing something in his private time that he wasn't telling anyone about. She wasn't as apt to keep quiet about it, but with her acceptance into the Hollyhead Harpies Quidditch team, she didn't have much time to pursue the matter with him. So she confided in Hermione and her mother, much to Harry's ignorance. Mrs. Weasley, who also knew Harry was up to something, admonished the girls to leave him alone about it until they knew more about what it was. Clearly Harry wanted left alone sometimes and she felt he'd certainly earned that right.
So now Harry, after many long months of searching in his limited spare time had set out to find the resurrection stone from where he'd dropped it in the Forbidden Forest. After many months of fruitless effort, he'd finally realized he would need help. So, after some quick research, Harry learned a charm that would help him to locate the stone. Even then, it wasn't easy. But tonight he'd finally been successful. Now he could move on to the next phase in his project.