Chapter Eighteen

A/N: Thanks for the reviews as always. Crazygonutz, I'm sure there are a lot of grammatical errors… I didn't give this chapter my really thorough once over like I usually do. I'll try to go back and fix that. Suits me right for trying to cut corners, huh? And 'Holly', I'm not done yet! By the look for your review you make it sound like I'm done. I am no where near finished. I'm just getting to the good stuff. Please, keep reading!

Disclaimer: Saying that I own Harry Potter would be like saying I own all the air in the world.

            Although teaching the DA was time consuming, and it took a lot out of him, Harry could not remember a happier time that past year. For once, he didn't have five hundred different things running through his head. He now had one main objective with which to occupy his mind with. Certainly Quidditch had given him an outlet in his six years at Hogwarts… but this was different.

             This was not Harry-against-the-world-reckless-Quidditch-practice. This was an outlet of a different sort. It didn't leave Harry feeling physically drained as his Quidditch practices did. This past-time occupied his mind. While playing Quidditch Harry still had time to think, he was simply on a broom while thinking.

            The DA gave him a break from the mundane everyday thoughts. He no long had to worry for that two hours a night. He had detached the DA from it's purpose. He no longer connected his training the students of Hogwarts with the rise of the Dark Lord. It was simply a defense club that he was head of. While helping the students Harry didn't have time to think. He didn't have time to think of Voldermort, or the war, or of his late godfather… and he liked it better that way.

            "What are you working on?" Ron flopped down next to Harry in the common room on a particularly boring Sunday afternoon. "It can't be homework, its not even four o'clock yet!"

            "It's not homework; it's this week's DA practice schedule."

            Ron craned his neck to get a better view of the piece of parchment Harry was laboring over.

Monday: First and Second Years:

- Acio

- Evenesco

Tuesday: Third and Fourth Years:

- Finite Incantatem

- Reducto

            "Harry, mate, take a break. You've been making up lesson plans all weekend. Relax a little!"

            "I am relaxed, Ron." Harry said, not looking up from his parchment.

            "You'd think you were a bloody professor." Ron mumbled, slumping down farther in the couch. "Do you know that I have spent most of my weekend either visiting the hospital wing or in the library? I hold you entirely responsible."

            "Why were you in the hospital wing?" Harry ignored the, him being responsible part.

            "I was tired of studying with Hermione; there are really only so many books a guy can take in-"

            "You sent Hermione to the hospital wing?!" Harry looked up from his parchment in alarm."

            "Don't be thick." Ron snapped. "I left Hermione in the library, in one piece, and went looking for Neville, Dean, and Seamus."

            Harry turned back to his parchment, "Um-hum?"

            "You know how it is with Neville, can't even walk down a corridor without bruising himself."

            "What happened?" Harry asked absent mindedly.

            "Well we were at the pitch, tossing around a quaffle for a bit-"

            "You got Neville on a broom?" Harry interrupted.

            "Well it wasn't easy."

            "But he still flew and everything?"

            "Yes."

            "Amazing."

            "I know. But that's not the point… well, that's half the point… So we were tossing around the quaffle, and Neville was actually doing very well. Seamus tossed it to Dean who dropped it. So Neville takes off after it and… well lets just say, I know why Neville can never be a seeker."

            "Did he hurt himself too badly?"

            "Not real bad. He's got a brilliant lump on his forehead though."

            "Ron! Ron!" Ginny Weasley came tearing through the portrait hole.

            "What is it, Gin?" Ron asked sitting up.

            "It's Bill!"

            "What about Bill?" Ron was on his feet at once.

            "I don't know… I mean… he… mum said…he's just gone!"

            "Gone? Ginny, what are you trying to say?"

            "Gone! Disappeared!"

            "Disappeared?"

            Ginny shook her head violently.

            "How did you find this out?"

            Ginny handed him a folded up piece of parchment.

            Harry was now at his feet, looking from a very frantic Ginny to a very scared Ron.

            "Didn't show up to work… not at his flat… hasn't owled…"

            "He's disappeared Ron."

            "Bill can't just disappear, there has to be an explanation." Harry tried logically.

            "It sounds like he's bloody disappeared to me!" Ron exclaimed. "Have you owled mum yet?"

            Ginny shook her head. "I don't know what to do."

            Ron's intuition was about as good as hers. "Well…er…let's owl mum…" the two of them left the common room without another word, leaving Harry feeling more alone than he had in a long while.

            Harry had never had a real family. Sure he had the Dursleys. But trying to get close to the Drusleys was like trying to engage a brick wall in conversation. The Weasleys had given him his first taste of family life. They had taken him in. Treated him like a son. He felt closer to them then he ever had anyone else… except probably for Sirius.

            But now, for the first time since he had been introduced to them, Harry didn't know what he could do for the Weasleys. He felt like an outsider. He wasn't sure what there was that he could do…

A/N: Yeah short, I know. Sorry. I just wasn't sure how I could continue on with a chapter like this. The next chapter will be worth this short measly one, I promise!