Author's Notes: In reference to the comment involving James as a seeker/chaser. I am very much aware that James was a chaser, the snitch image Harry has is in reference to the memory of Snape's he has in the chapter "Snape's Worse Memory" in OoTP where his father has nicked the snitch. Sorry for any confusion guys, just wanted to let you know where I'm coming from. Read, Review and most of all enjoy.

Chapter One:

Days passed slowly, time ticked by each second slower than the first, as if it had a mind of it's own or had been bewitched to do so. It was a miraculous thing Harry found, time that was, it flew when you did not want it to and took forever to pass when you were watching it too closely. His body was itching to leave the Dursleys but he had found, much like all the other things in his life, his heart wasn't really in it.

Summers before he would have counted down the minutes before he could go to the burrow and been ecstatic about it.

Now all it felt like to him was the countdown to his impending future-- the one filled with destiny and horcruxes-- finally caught up with him. He was not happy about it in the least, but Harry had found that he was not really happy about much anyway.

He had been surprised to see Charlie instead of Mr. Weasley, and a pang shot through his chest when he remembered summers past when Ron and the twins had come to rescue him, and then, just last summer with Dumbledore. They were memories he didn't want nor need and he pushed them out of his mind as promptly as they entered.

It didn't feel as liberating as he though it would. Leaving the Dursleys once and for all. He had thought, just maybe, he would feel a tinge of sadness as he passed through the front door of number four Privet drive. But he didn't. What he felt was numbness, indifference. The least of his problems were the Dursley's and while he could practically imagine the magnitude of the party that would ensue as soon as he left, Harry could not even find it in himself to be happy.

Happy about leaving the one place he had always despised.

"Well…" he said quietly, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon just within earshot. "This'll be it then, I imagine."

He could practically see his uncle bursting with joy.

"Take care."

Harry's voice was casual and conversational and void of any other emotion. Charlie waved his wand wordlessly at the pile of luggage a few feet away from him and within a mere second it disappeared. No hugs were exchanged, no pleasantries and without a second thought Harry stepped closer to Charlie, latched onto his arm and waited for him to apparate signifying the last and final time Harry would ever see what was left of his actual family.

Of course Harry knew that the Weasleys and Hermione were more family to him than the people standing in front of him then, but there was something so final about the moment. Something so irrevocable that for the first time in days he actually felt something resembling an emotion other than indifference.

Aunt Petunia was the last part of his mother, the last true living relative he had. His last real, tangible link to the mother that give her life to save his own. Even though they were forced to take him in, treated him awfully and locked him in a cupboard under the stairs for most of his childhood, the tiniest, almost miniscule amount of sadness did pass through him for the briefest of moments.

He may never see the Dursley's again. Ever. And it may not be because he chose not to either. It may be because he couldn't see them again. Could be because along this path he was destined to take he may meet an untimely end just like Sirius, Dumbledore and his parents.

Harry watched as Aunt Petunia twitched, as though she wanted to say something, to perhaps even hug him, and it was quite clear that no one was surprised when she did not move at all in the end.

And that was it, that was the end. With a single nod to Charlie they were off. Moments later after darkness and that quick, squeezing feeling he had become used to over the past year, the two landed with a quiet thud a good enough distance away from The Burrow.

"Sorry 'bout this, Harry," Charlie said genially, "the ministry has been crazy lately, setting up all sorts of protection charms, this is the closest we've been able to apparate all summer."

"It's no problem," Harry waved a hand in response and watched as his luggage, which up until that point had been sitting a few feet away in the dewy grass, began to float and lead the way toward the house.

"It's quite a mess around here," the fiery haired Weasley said after a long pause, "With the wedding and everything. Mums been in a frenzy and everyone's been rowing… I'd be careful if I were you, certain people," he said it with an amount of knowing in his tone, "are on a war path."

Before Harry could say anything further, the youngest Weasley brother, clad in tan trousers and a rather fresh looking t-shirt (for Ron, that is) came bounding over to them. A wiry smile crossed Harry's features, assuming that Hermione must have, like usual, arrived before him. It had been no secret that his two best friend's relationship had almost, very nearly taken a very different turn last term and while he had feared it at first, Harry couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if it did.

Understandably things couldn't get much worse, so even if things did escalate this summer and in the following months the outcome had to be somewhat good.

Good considering what was going on around them anyway.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Ron sighed dramatically and fell into step with Harry as Charlie walked in front of them and towards the house, "I'm going insane. It's all wedding this and wedding that… and I swear, Harry, I am never getting married for as long as I live."

It was a genuine surprise, Harry found, that there was something that existed in the world outside of the turmoil and pain that so many people were enduring because of Voldermort and his band of death eaters. Casualty rates climbed each day, and Harry had checked the newspaper periodically to see if he saw anybody familiar among the listed.

Bill and Fleur, in his opinion, picked an awful time to get married. Yet being there, being at the Burrow, made him remember that there were other things out there besides Voldermort. He had honestly forgotten what it was like before all this had started.

"Oh," Ron continued, despite the fact that Harry had not heard the last thing he said, "and Ginny has been ridiculous. Arguing with everyone, the only person she's talking to is Bill and even that is scheduled to change at any moment."

At the mention of Ginny, Harry's heart sped up a considerable amount, his palms sweating furiously. For the life of him, seeing her there that summer for the wedding hadn't even crossed his mind during the various times he had thought about it. She had been, for such a long time, such a regular occurrence in his life that he didn't even think twice about it.

Yet that was no longer true. Ginny was no longer Ginny. No longer Ron's sweet and innocent sister. Ginny was more than that. Less than that. Ginny was everything he wanted and couldn't have, but was still within arms reach. Only he would never reach for it, and he knew it. They both knew it.

Harry swallowed and tried to clear the sudden lump in his throat. "Oh yeah?"

"My mum and her can't even stand to be in the same room, I've tried talking to her, Hermione…" Ron paused as he looked over at Harry for a moment as if he were going to say something more. Ask for something, but he obviously thought better of it because as soon as he looked at Harry, he looked away, trudging forward. "She won't listen. Stubburn as a bloody mule that one."

"Hermione's here then?" Harry asked casually, desperate for a change of subject and suddenly very worried about what would happen when he crossed paths with the youngest Weasley.

Anticipation sparked within him at the thought.

Ron stared at Harry for a long moment, "Yeah," he said slowly, "Been here since start of summer."

"That's good."

"I guess it is," Ron appeased and looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye, "I think all this wedding nonsense is starting to drive her a little bit insane too."

"Hermione had never been a big fan of Fleur's to begin with," Harry said emotionlessly as the Burrow loomed closer and closer with every step the two took.

"Mum said you can stay in Fred and George's room," Ron said, pushing the front door open.

The burrow was as it always was-- crowded, warm and friendly and smelt of a familiarity Harry yearned to remember. Nothing was out of place, everything was as it should be, and yet despite it all everything still felt different. The mood was off. And even with Ron who seemed to choose his words ever so carefully, it felt like home, and as Harry breathed in the loving atmosphere he felt himself become happier than he had in weeks.

He made his way wordlessly up the stairs behind Ron, surveying his surroundings with as much scrutiny he could manage and tried to appear as subtle as possible. Harry knew what he was looking for the entire time without even realized it. And with a look over his shoulder, judging by the look on his face, Ron had too.

A flash of long, fiery red hair could be seen in the far off distance and Harry's heart sped up to an impossible rate.

xXx

Ron collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh. He was tired, his bones were tired, and to top it all off he was worried. Worried about Harry, and the future. Worried about what lays ahead for the three of them to conquer. Worried that his best friend no longer seemed to be his best friend. He was suddenly the Harry they all knew in their fifth year and as much as it pained Ron to think it, he really, really hated that Harry.

Blue eyes turned towards the brunette sitting in a chair close by, her nose stuck in a book like always. It wasn't obvious to the average passerby, but Ron knew Hermione was not really reading. Ron knew Hermione, much like everyone else, was just as worried as he.

"That bad?"

He ran his hands over his face, "Worse."

Hermione let out a long, hollow sigh, "He is still Harry, Ron."

"He doesn't seem like it, he doesn't seem like Harry at all."

Ron could feel her brown eyes boring into him, "How so?" Her voice showed the concern he often heard when she talked about her friends, and, if Ron was not mistaken, she sounded a little bit frightened too.

"He just isn't Harry, you know," He kept saying that as if it got easier to live with each time. "It's hard to put into words," Ron looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to cut in and was genuinely surprised when she didn't. "It's hard to see him like this when I think about how happy he was last term… with Ginny…"

The frown that overcame her beautiful features made his heart ache, "I know. I'm worried about how that is going to go down too," she said sympathetically.

It had been a long winded conversation between the two of them-- the one that involved Harry and Ginny and the all the possible outcomes there might be when they finally crossed paths this week. Hermione believed Harry did the right and noble thing, ending things with Ginny, Ron isn't so sure. Harry had a knack for wanting to do the right thing and only ending up hurting himself in the long run.

Ginny could be there for Harry in ways he and Hermione could not.

Ron figured he just wanted to make sure his best friend was taken care of, because he knew there were ways Harry needed help and guidance and comfort-- ways that Ron and Hermione could never provide Harry with.

Friendship was very important to the two people sitting in the warm room, who looked at each other sympathetically with frightened thoughts raging in their minds. Yet it was no secret that sometimes, in the midst of sleepless nights and dark daydreams, they both wondered whether they had made the wrong choice.

That, when they had been given the chance to turn back, they should have.

It did not matter though. It was too late to do anything about it anyway. And deep down they knew they would never even attempt to try.

(TBC)

Author's Notes: Next (longer) chapter should be up later today or early tomorrow.