Chapter Two: At the Burrow

The site of the Lovegood home was glowing. Harry knew full well that that couldn't be a good sign, had actually hoped that the glow the other side of the village wasn't where they were headed for... but Ron and Arthur, leading the way, headed directly for it.

As they crested the hill after navigating around the village itself, Harry saw the devastation below. The fire had been burning for some time. There wasn't much left.

"Dear Merlin..." Arthur muttered. "Ron, get your sister back to the Burrow..."

"That's my friend down there!" Ginny sputtered. "I am not leaving until we find her!"

Arthur glanced back at the determined look on his only daughter's face, then nodded. "Ron and Harry, you stay close to Ginny."

Arthur, the Order members and the Aurors they'd brought along approached cautiously, Harry and Ron flanking Ginny, their wands out.

"What do you think you're going to do with that?" Ginny muttered. "You're as underage as I am."

"Underage doesn't matter squat to me if there are Death Eaters here," Harry muttered back. "Don't even think I wouldn't use it, especially..."

"Especially?" she whispered, catching his pause.

"Especially if it means your safety."

Ginny was silent.

"Harry, what's that smell?" Ron asked quietly.

"I don't know. It smells like... sulfur?"

"What on earth...?" Ginny sniffed.

"Fireball," mumbled an auror from behind them. "It's the smell you get when you let off a fireball. They didn't stand a chance..."

Ginny's breath hitched in a sob. Harry felt the same way. Luna... loony Luna...

"Arthur? Arthur, is that you?" a voice called to them from the darkness.

Immediately, the aurors surrounded the group, but Arthur Weasley pushed his way through. "Damien?"

A figure approached from the darkness.

"Put your wands down," Arthur told the aurors. "It's Damien Lovegood... Damien... where is your daughter?"

"Here, here..." the tall wizard turned and searched the darkness. Luna stepped out from behind a tree, seemingly unconcerned, and approached the group.

"Harry? Ron? Ginny... what are you doing here?"

Ron and Harry traded glances.

"Um... your house is on fire...?" Ron looked at her, indicating the burning wreck behind them with his wand.

"We were concerned, Luna... we thought..."

"Oh, that..." Luna smiled. "It was the Nootskums."

"The what?"

"The Nootskums. They're angry with Daddy for taking down the oak tree in the back garden. Nothing to worry about, really... they don't normally get this angry."

"Luna... you could have been killed!" Ginny said, shocked.

"Oh, no. They made sure we were out of the house. I am sorry that I've lost my trunk, and Mummy's necklace, but Daddy and I are fine."

Harry and Ron traded another look, this one concerned. Was she suffering from shock, or was this really just Luna? Could anyone live through a Death Eater attack and be so unconcerned?

"I suppose... well, we'll have to rebuild, lovey," the tall wizard said, wrapping an arm around his daughter. "We'll just have to rebuild."

"Yes, Daddy. Shouldn't take long."

"No, it shouldn't take long at all."

The others looked at each other, surprised, as the Lovegoods looked happily at each other.

"Well," Arthur Weasley coughed. "No matter, so long as you're both okay. Now... you'll have to come back to the Burrow with us for the night, at least."

"Oh, I'm sure they could put us up in the Leaky Cauldron," Luna's father smiled. "They have before..."

"Nonsense," Arthur said. "The Burrow is right there, and we've plenty of room. Molly would skin me if you didn't come back with us... come. I'm sure everything will look... er... better... in the morning."

And without further conversation, they turned as a group and made their way back to the Burrow.

"Ron," Harry whispered. "Did you notice anything... odd?"

Ron shot him a look of disbelief, "You're joking, right?"

"No... I mean... something seems... wrong, out of place."

"You mean you didn't notice?" Ginny joined their whispered conversation.

"What?" Harry looked over at her. Ginny looked back over her shoulder, then turned back to Harry and her brother, the glow of the fire illuminating her face.

"Look up."

They looked up into the sky, but Harry still couldn't figure out what Ginny was getting at. He looked down into her bright eyes.

"I don't..."

"No Death Mark," Ginny explained quietly, then turned to catch up to Luna and her father. Ron and Harry stood for a moment, watching the sky, before following the group back to the Burrow. When had there ever been a Death Eater attack without the Death Mark illuminating the night sky as a warning to all others?

"Maybe it was the... Noot-whatevers," Ron whispered.

"Yeah," Harry searched the sky. "Maybe."

Hermione arrived just after lunch on Thursday. Harry, Ron and Ginny were lounging on the shady front porch when Ron stiffened and sat up, looking down the lane.

"Is that... it is!" he was on his feet and running down the lane before Harry or Ginny could turn, and was to Hermione before either of them were on their feet. They watched as the dark-haired witch hugged Ron, and as he took her trunk from her. She carried Crookshanks in a cat carrier at her side.

As they approached, Harry heard her scolding Ron.

"I can't believe you said that, Ron Weasley! Someone could have been terribly hurt!"

"It has begun," Harry muttered to Ginny. She didn't reply, but from the corner of his eye he could see her grinning.

"Luna... well, I guess you had to be there," Ron said quietly. "I'm glad you've come, Hermione."

Hermione suddenly smiled at him, and then glanced up to find Harry and Ginny watching her.

"Oh, Harry, you're here already! I wondered..."

"Harry's been here since Tuesday night, Hermione," Ginny said.

"What? I thought you were going to the...?" Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"They weren't there when I got there," Harry admitted. "But everyone thinks my uncle just wasn't at the station, and I came home with Ron and Ginny... I'll explain later, Hermione. How are you?"

"Good, now that I'm here. Southhampton was so hot."

They entered the Burrow, and Hermione went off to greet Mrs Weasley with Ginny while Ron and Harry took her things up to her room. Harry carried the cat carrier with the spitting, growling Crookshanks inside cautiously.

"See?" Ron pointed out. "It's not just me. That cat hates everyone but her."

"Well, not everyone," Harry said, remembering how Crookshanks would curl up next to Ginny in front of the fire in the common room at school.

"It's still a menace," Ron grumbled. "I hope..."

"What?"

"Never mind," Ron shook his head, as they heard footsteps on the stairs. "Ginny. We'll talk later."

Harry felt a funny tug in his stomach. He'd gotten used to having Ginny nearby, even when they were talking about things that they might otherwise have excluded her from. Ginny had very quickly become part of him, and he felt... odd... to be keeping things from her, even if it was for her own good.

And where have you heard that before? He thought.

But then, Hermione and Ginny entered the room, and all thoughts were suspended as they discussed how they were going to spend their afternoon.

"Harry?" Harry stirred on the blanket where he was lying in the shade next to the pond.

"Hmm?"

"Harry, we need to talk."

He opened his eyes to see Hermione sitting crosslegged next to him.

"Hermione... sorry... I fell asleep. Where are Ron and Ginny?"

"I'm right here, Harry," Ron's voice came from the other side. "Ginny's gone to help Mum. It's her night to help with dinner, mine to do dishes."

"Harry... we need to discuss..."

"Yes, we do," Harry turned, sitting up and leaning back against the trunk of the tree he'd been lounging under while the others went for a swim.

"We need to talk about how... what we're going to do."

"I don't know how we're going to get away, and with Harry not yet seventeen, they're going to..."

"We're not going anywhere until after I come of age, Ron," Harry said quietly. "I can't do anything without my wand, and if they catch me, they'll snap it in half."

"So, we're waiting until after your birthday?"

"I'm waiting to leave until after my birthday," Harry said softly.

"Hold up, there..." Ron turned on him. "We're waiting. We're going with you, Harry. Get that through your thick skull right now."

"Ron..."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Ron said softly, and it was this, as much as anything else, that made Harry turn and look at him squarely: Ron wasn't exploding.

"We're your family, Harry. Us. Hermione and I. We're your best friends, and we're going with you. This is as much our fight as it is yours, regardless of who has to do what."

"Dumbledore said..." Harry paused.

"What?" Hermione prompted him.

"He said it wasn't the prophecy that makes me the one, it's Voldemort himself. He chose me because of everything he's done to me, and I will not back down because of the person I am... who he helped create when he killed my parents."

"He was right," Hermione replied.

"He was bloody brilliant, is what he was," Ron returned. "You know you're going after him, and you know why... and it's got little to nothing to do with that stupid prophecy. We'd be doing this anyhow, Harry. You know that."

Harry swallowed. "Fair enough. But you've got to promise me..."

"What?"

"Promise me that you'll let me do what I have to do."

"So long as you'll let us do what we have to do, I don't see a problem with that."

After a moment, Harry nodded, then, looking at Hermione, he sighed. "Do you know where we can get a pensieve, Hermione?"

Her eyes rounded. "Why on earth would we need...?"

"Because there are some things you need to know, and I can't just tell you, I have to show you."

That weekend the Burrow played host to a very small, very quiet wedding ceremony between Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Standing for the bride were Ginny and Fleur's own sister Gabrielle. Other than Gabrielle and Fleur's parents, the only guests were members of the Order.

Bill was able to walk down the aisle with his bride on his arm, and later was found to be sitting down enjoying a glass or two of firewhiskey with, seemingly, no ill effects. Fleur never left his side for a moment.

All the Weasley siblings were there except for Percy, who was conspicuous in his absence. He'd been sent an invitation, and Molly had been expecting him to show up all day, but he hadn't. Harry listened as the twins and Ron plotted what they'd do to their elder brother for proving how much more of a git he was than even they had thought.

As the afternoon lengthened into evening, Harry managed to find Remus Lupin.

"Harry, how are you?"

"Find, Moony. I..."

"What is it?"

"I'm hoping you can help me with something."

"If I can," Remus agreed.

"I need a pensieve," Harry said quietly. "Do you know where I could get a good one?"

"What for, Harry?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Dumbledore told me once that he used his to... sort his thoughts out. When things seemed too much, when there was too much to think about, he said it was helpful to siphon some of it off until he'd made room for it. I... I think it might prove useful for me, too."

Harry hated misleading Remus, but he wasn't lying. Dumbledore had, in fact, told him precisely that back in his fifth year. And it would prove helpful at times to be able to divide his thoughts.

Remus looked at him strangely. "I don't know where you would get one from, Harry. But I know who had one."

"Dumbledore," Harry agreed. "I don't think that McGonagall would let me borrow it, do you?"

"No, but that's not who I was talking about. Your grandfather had one. James showed it to me once. I would imagine that it's in your vault at Gringotts."

"I... I have one already?"

"If it's still around. They're very rare... and very expensive. I doubt it would have been sold or given away. However, if it was in the cottage at Godric's Hollow when..."

"It could have been taken." Harry said.

"Yes."

"Moony?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you know my grandparents?"

"Yes, Harry. I did."

"Were they... were they good people?"

"Both your father's parents and your mother's parents were exceptional people, Harry. Your mother's parents were.. kind. Loving. They adored your mother, and she them. Unfortunately, they died before you were born. Your father's parents... were two of the most determined people I've ever met."

"How so?"

"They were determined to see the end of the Dark Arts. Your grandfather... well."

"What?'

"He died for what he believed in. Just as your father did, Harry. They were both good men."

"How did they die?"

"Your mother's parents were... attacked. In the night. During our sixth year."

"But they were muggles!"

"Muggles have always been a favorite target for Dark wizards, Harry. They can't defend themselves, and to those who follow the dark arts, this merely reinforces the superiority of the magical world over the non-magical."

Harry nodded. "And my father's parents?"

"Your grandmother died of an illness the year after we graduated. Shortly after James and Lily were married. No one really understood it at the time, but there was something quite suspicious about it. After, well, I wondered..."

"Wondered?"

"Peter spent a lot of time at your grandparent's home, Harry. After Sirius was freed... after I found out that Peter was still alive... well, I began to wonder if Peter hadn't had something to do with her death."

"You mean...?"

"What she suffered from was, looking back on it, very much like poisoning. But no one suspected... well. Your grandfather died the March before you were born."

"How?"

"A broken heart, perhaps. He missed your grandmother terribly."

"Really?"

"No, Harry," Remus smiled sadly. "He died from an Avada Kedavra curse."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"No one knows, I'm afraid."

The stars were still twinkling in the clear night sky when all the guests had left and Fleur had taken Bill up to bed. Mr and Mrs Weasley had disappeared soon after, Arthur telling Molly she'd worked too hard that day. The twins took the last bottle of firewhiskey and apparated away, and Charlie had headed up to the attic bedroom to sleep off the effects of a slight overindulgence in Shrivelfig wine.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the dark of the back yard. Ginny had disappeared, they assumed to go to her own bed, and Harry wanted to tell them all about the possibility of a pensieve being in the things in his vault at Gringotts.

"Wow... Harry, those are really, really rare," Ron said. "Your grandad must have been..."

"Ron, come on," Harry said, removing his glasses and rubbing a hand across his eyes before sliding them back on. "You know that I'm not poor."

"No, but..." Ron flushed to the tips of his ears. "But it's not like we ever talk about it... not that we should, but..."

"Ron?"

"What?"

"I have a lot of gold. That doesn't mean that I'm happier... or even as happy, as you are. I'd trade it all to have what you have."

"What?" Ron snorted. "Are you insane?"

"Some things matter a whole lot more than money, Ron. Lots of things," Hermione pointed out.

"I know that," Ron said. "But it sure must make things easier."

"Why?"

"Look, Harry, you never got teased about your tatty hand me downs..."

"No?" Harry smiled. "You think muggle kids aren't as cruel as wizard kids? Let me tell you something, Ron, until I came to Hogwarts I never had a new thing ever. Eating candy with you on the Hogwarts Express? That was the first time I'd ever tasted it... much less bought it myself."

Ron looked at him, shocked.

"I slept in a closet until I returned to the Dursley's after our first year... and the only reason I got a room then was because they were frightened of Dumbledore. You thought it was funny that I was surprised that there were presents for me at Christmas during our first year? Let me tell you why. On Christmas Day I got to sit in my closet under the stairs and listen to them while they celebrated Christmas. My first... my only memories of Christmas before I came to Hogwarts were of spending the day in there listening to other people have a good time. So while you're fixated on only having hand-knit sweaters and candy given to you, rather than the latest racing broom or fancy robes, try and remember that some of us didn't have that, despite how much money sat in a vault in Gringotts."

Ron was silent.

"Harry..." Hermione began.

"I'm sorry. I just... you have no idea of how lucky you are. And you're so bloody blind at times, it sends me over the edge."

"Blind?" Ron looked at him, the first note of anger in his voice. "How am I blind?"

"Look at what is sitting next to you, Ron... yours for the taking, if only you could admit to how you feel. I can't even have a relationship with the girl I lo..." Harry suddenly stopped, standing. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Harry!"

Harry heard Hermione's angry voice, but he didn't stop. He kept going, right through the house, up the stairs and past the room where a small, redheaded girl sat looking out her open window over the back yard in darkness, tears running down her cheeks.

The next morning Harry was up early. The others weren't down yet when he walked into the kitchen, but Mrs Weasley was there, and Mr Weasley was just finishing his breakfast.

"Mr Weasley?"

"Harry! You're up early."

"I need to go into Diagon Alley. What time does Gringotts open?"

"Diagon...!" Molly began.

"Seven in the morning. They should be open now, Harry. Do you think...?"

"I think it's so early that I can be there, in and out, and back before anyone realizes I've been. I really do have to go."

"Perhaps Remus could...?"

"No. I'll be fine, Mr Weasley. Really."

"Very well."

"Arthur!"

"Molly... the boy is nearly seventeen. Not to mention, he isn't ours to tell yes or no!"

Molly stood staring at her husband, then glanced at Harry.

"You be careful!"

"I will, Mrs Weasley, I promise. Do you need anything while I'm there?"

"No. Go to Gringotts, do whatever it is that you have to do, and come straight home!"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry nodded, heading for the floo. He took a pinch of floo powder from the pot on the mantle and noticed there was very little left. There was one stop he'd be making, in any case.

He flooed through to the twins shop and surprised Fred and George in the middle of taking inventory.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just on my way to Gringotts to get something out of my vault. You two need anything?"

"Ah, if you feel like picking up a few hundred galleons..." Fred grinned.

"I meant between here and there," Harry smiled.

"Nah, we're fine. You really shouldn't be out alone. Do you want us to...?"

"You sound like your mum," Harry said. Fred choked.

"I what?"

"She was upset at my going alone too. I'll be fine. I'll be back within the hour. Leave the door open for me?"

"Done," George nodded, going back to his counting.

Harry, despite his bravado at going alone, stuck to the edge of the street and walked quickly to the front doors of the goblin bank. Entering, he was immediately greeted by a goblin.

"Good morning, Mr Potter. And how can we be of service today?"

"Umm... Griphook?"

"After me, sir..."

The tiny goblin waddled away, leading Harry to a cashier's window.

"Good morning, Mr Potter. Quite early for wizards to be out and about?"

"Precisely," Harry nodded. "I need to access my vault."

"Certainly," Griphook nodded to the first goblin and Harry was quickly led to a trolley. Several hair-raising minutes later, he was standing in front of his vault, his key in hand.

"Wait for me?" he asked the goblin.

"I shall be right here, Mr Potter."

With that, Harry opened the vault and entered. The first time he'd been in here he'd seen the piles of gold and pretty much been blinded to everything else. Now, however, he noticed shapes in the dark behind the piles, and moved further in.

"Lumos," he said quietly, holding his wand up.

There were boxes and crates and trunks. Harry wasn't sure where to start.

But then, he saw a cabinet in the back corner... one much like the one, although not exact, in Dumbledore's office where he kept his pensieve, and he moved towards it.

Sure enough, on the third shelf sat a large stone bowl, very much like Dumbledore's. Harry extracted it, and then took two heavy drawstring bags from his pocket and filled them with galleons from the piles. Glancing at the door, he muttered a weightless charm, and the heavy bags were suddenly as light as feathers. Harry grabbed a crate, removed a rather ugly clock from it, and placing the pensieve and his bags in it, left the vault.

The goblin was waiting patiently by the trolley, and Harry climbed in silently.

"Do you require anything else, Mr Potter?"

"How do I exchange some gold for muggle money?" Harry asked.

"Griphook can do that for you, sir," the goblin set the trolley in motion and very quickly, they were back to the surface.

Harry was unsure of what the exchange rate was between pounds sterling and galleons, but he seemed to remember Hermione telling him that a galleon was equal to roughly seven pounds. He asked Griphook for ten thousand galleons to be removed from his vault and given to him in muggle cash.

"Ten... thousand?"

"Yes."

"Mr Potter... that is rather..."

"I know. I 'm not going to be able to access my vault for a while, Griphook. It's not a problem, is it?"

"No, sir," Griphood gave the goblin grimace that passed for a smile and then nodded, counting out the cash. Harry watched, then pocketed it, and with a nod, headed back the way he'd come in.

Halfway to the twins shop, he stopped off and bought a rather large bag of floo powder, a packet of self-inking quills and a huge package of parchment.

"Harry!" Fred greeted him as he entered Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes several minutes later. "That was quick."

"Had to be. I didn't want to be here when the alley starts getting busy for the day. Thanks for letting me use your floo."

"Anytime, anytime... any idea of what Mum is planning for dinner tonight?"

"No idea," Harry laughed. The twins always brought their appetites when they came home to the Burrow.

Flooing through, Harry decided that, as uncomfortable as apparating was, he preferred anything to the nauseated feeling he got in the Floo Network. He stumbled out into the kitchen of the Burrow, his box in his arms, and almost directly into the angry countenance of Ginny Weasley.

"Where were you?"

"I had to go to Diagon Alley," Harry said, placing the box carefully on the table.

"At seven in the morning?"

"Better than two in the afternoon, don't you think? There was no one there... it was empty. Much better."

"Mum was worried."

"I know. But I had to go, Ginny."

"Why? What couldn't have waited until we went for our school things?"

Harry looked at her, and Ginny paled before continuing in a much quieter voice. "The school isn't going to open this year, is it?"

"I don't think so, no. But it doesn't matter if it does, Gin."

"Harry?" her voice was soft, worried.

"Ginny, you know that there are things I need to do."

"I know."

"Until they're done... I won't be going back to Hogwarts, whether it's opened next year or not."

"But..."

"Ginny, I have to."

"I know," she nodded. "But maybe... maybe you could do it without worrying us all out of our minds?"

"Ginny, you know what I have to do, and you're worried about me going into Diagon Alley for an hour?" Harry laughed.

"It sounds silly, put like that," she glanced over her shoulder. "But Mum has enough to worry about, Harry, I'm really concerned about her... with Bill... and Phlegm living here now..."

"Be nice," Harry said quietly. "She's been much better since your mum stopped pretending Bill wasn't really going to marry her."

"I know."

"You know, you Weasley's can be intimidating to us outsiders."

"Outsider? When have you ever been an outsider in this family, Harry Potter?"

Harry gazed at her for a moment, then shook his head. "It's been a while. I hope I never have to go there again."

"Why would you?"

Harry looked at her for a moment, considering, then smiled and turned away. "I bought your mum a present."

"You did?"

"She's not going to like it."

"Harry, what have you done?"

"I've been using your family's floo powder for five years now. I figured it was time I contributed," he pulled out the bag, and Ginny's eyes widened.

"I've never seen..."

"What?"

"A bag of floo powder that big before. Mum hasn't ever bought that much at a time..."

"Where does she keep it?"

"Just in the pot..."

"That's not going to be big enough," Harry shook his head, eyeing the football sized bag of powder and the battered pot on the mantle that might have held, brimming, two cups.

"What are you two doing?" Hermione came sleepily into the room, rubbing her eyes. "Harry, where did you get that?"

"He's been to Diagon Alley this morning," Ginny said, a thread of irritation returning to her voice.

"Did you...?" Hermione asked, glancing at the crate on the table.

"Yes."

"Good. Well..."

"Hermione, can you..." Harry indicated towards the mantle meaningfully.

"What?"

Ginny grinned. "How are you at Engorgio?"

After Hermione enlarged the floo powder pot on the mantle, Harry dumped the bag into it and the three made their way upstairs, Harry carrying the crate. He had just made it to the door of his room when he heard a shriek from downstairs.

"Where did this come...? Harry Potter!"

With a smirk, he ducked into his room and placed the crate on his bed, tucked the two bags of galleons into the bottom of his wardrobe, wrapped the muggle money in a Weasley sweater and tucked it on top of the two bags, and closed the wardrobe doors just as his door flew open.

"Harry Potter! Where did that floo powder come from?"

"Flourish and Blotts," Harry shrugged.

"Young man, I know how much floo powder costs and..."

"I noticed the pot was empty this morning. I used the last to get to Diagon Alley, so I bought a refill. Don't you all do that if you're the one to take the last of the powder?"

"No!"

"Oh. I rather thought it worked like the bathroom roll," Harry shrugged. "I know my Aunt Petunia used to get rather upset when Dudley or I used the last of that and didn't replace..."

"Harry, this is nothing like the bathroom roll, and you know it! Floo powder is expensive..."

"I've been using it for five years, Mrs Weasley."

"Harry...!"

"I've done it, and I don't think Flourish and Blotts gives refunds, so...?"

"It's too much, Harry... I've never bought that much at once! It's..."

"It was the first bag I grabbed," Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry if I worried you this morning, Mrs Weasley. As you can see, I'm fine. Oh, and the twins wanted to know what you were making for dinner tonight."

"Cheeky..." Molly sighed. "There's going to be no reasoning with you, is there?"

"No."

"Fine," she huffed, turning from the room. "I don't suppose you've eaten anything yet?"

"No, actually."

"Breakfast in twenty minutes then. And tell Ron he'll not get any if he's not down for it."

And with that, she spun around and Harry watched her indignant figure stomp down the stairs with a grin.

Twenty minutes later, Harry sat enjoying the largest breakfast he'd ever had at the Burrow, which was rather saying something. Sausages, bacon, egg, toast, muffins, and a stack of pancakes graced the table.

Ron sat down next to him, his eyes wide. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mum never makes this much unless it's a holiday or someone's birthday or..." Ron cast a meaningful look at Harry before he suddenly became suspicious. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Harry shrugged, taking another muffin.

Ron looked across the table at the girls, who merely smiled.

"Look, I don't like it when you lot keep stuff from me..."

"Join the club, Ronald," Ginny said coldly, then stood from the table and, leaving her plate in the sink, left the room.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked.

"I think we're going to have to tell her, Harry," Hermione said in a low voice so Molly couldn't hear.

"She already knows."

"You told her?"

"Not really... she was waiting for me when I got back this morning... it kind of slipped."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Not everything," Harry assured her. "Not about you two... just me."

"What about 'us two'?" Ron looked faintly confused.

"That we're going with him, Ron," Hermione hissed. "Harry, don't you dare think that by not telling her that part it's going to make us not..."

"Oh, I know you're coming, Hermione. I've given up trying to talk you out of that."

"Good," Hermione spread Molly's plum jam on a slice of toast.

"What are you two on about?"

Harry stood. "Ginny is upset, Ron, that we've not been telling her... everything. I think we need... I need, to be honest with her."

"Harry..."

"I know, Ron. But I can't not tell her everything. I can't... I just can't."

Harry placed his plate and mug in the sink and headed out of the room towards the stairs, and Ginny. Behind him, he heard Hermione whisper at Ron again, but he couldn't make out the words.

He was on the stairs before he heard Ron's raised voice, "And where did all that floo powder come from?"

Okay, long chapter, so short comments. I love you all to death, you know that? I think I'm turning into a review whore...

Trixie7: I think we've probably seen the last of the Dursleys here. I think there is going to be some limited explanations in Canon7, as JKR promised to tell us what Dudley saw when the Dementors attacked, and she has yet to explain that "remember my last" comment in the Howler to Petunia.

RyougaZell: The chapters, for the most part, will be longer in this one. I don't know why. They just are!

Shotgunn: Umm... yeah... right... that was ummm... because Harry was still wet from the rain in Little Whinging... that's it! I didn't make a mistake! It was Molly!

Rowenhood: Why, thank you! I love to hear from new reviewers!

SouthernBelle: Sorry, missed by four! But I love to hear from all of you, no matter what order you come in!

FeinX: I can only post so quickly – I average about one chapter a day, so hang in there!

Merlindamage: Where the heck have you been? I've posted some stuff over at the other site, but I've missed you here!

Aerri: Wow! What a nice compliment! Thank you!

HarryGinnyluv4ever: Maybe we ought to charter a flight?

Kazziedal: Absolutely, if she doesn't kill him off first!

LittleTom45: Oh, they'll be back together in canon, count on it!

GiGiFanfic: Mwhaahahaha... another convert! Actually, I've considered that particular theory, as well... we never got to SEE him dead, other than lying at the base of the tower. I suppose we shall see.

Gerie: I just love it when you try to guess where I'm going.

And to the others, thanks much: Hpgirl7777, NotAWriterYet, Treck, Old-Crow, Caddy94, TopQuark, SabineStrohemMoss, AlliBaby, KaleenaMason, TedMHammett, VT, WhatdoIhavetodo, Mountain, Volleypickle16