He walked over to the television and hit the power switch. The only sound in the room was the pounding in his brain. He was angry with himself and his inability to stop what was going on outside. He had promised Dumbledore that he would stay at Number 4, Privet Drive, and receive the last ounce of available protection from the charm placed on the house 17 years ago. Harry decided that he might as well make his final preparations for his departure.
He marched up the stairs to his room, the cramped guest bedroom that he had occupied for five years. Clothes, books, and newspapers lay scattered across the hardwood floor. He hadn't bothered to clean for two months, allowing the mess to accrue. Nor had he thought of moving to one of the larger rooms. This was the closest place he had to home, this room which he had been locked up in goodness knows how many times. This was the single room in the house in which he had ever felt comfortable. He flipped through some of his happier memories here, birthday cakes from Hermione and Hagrid which had sustained him through the Dudley's communal grapefruit diet, the letters of encouragement he had received every summer since he had first attended Hogwarts, where he had often written to Sirius, his late godfather, about his scar. He had to protect those memories and defend the people who had been instrumental in their creation.
Harry sat down at his desk and picked up the eagle feather. He licked the tip and dipped it in the open inkwell. Pulling a piece of parchment from a stack, he began:
Ron-
Hey mate. I've been thinking more and more about what you said, when school got out. About how you'd help me wherever I went. I think that I am going to accept your offer, and I'd like to begin soon-- in three days if possible. I warn you to pack light. And don't tell Ginny or your mum about it. You know how they'd worry. We can send word back after we've left, so we can avoid confrontations. I know Hermione is staying with your family right now, due to the riots going on. Please tell her… I would like her to come too, if she is still up for it. I know that this is sudden… that I haven't answered any letters for a while. But I've had my reasons, and I am finally ready to get this over with. I will be arriving by fireplace on Saturday, and then I want to leave immediately for Godric's Hollow. See you then mate.
-Harry
He looked over at the empty cage nearby. Hedwig still hadn't returned. It had been three weeks, and he had given her up for dead. He hoped that she was alright, though, even if he knew it wasn't realistic. So much pointless loss, he thought. He got up, approached his trunk, and looked inside. He realized that he didn't have much packing to do; he intended to travel with only a knapsack, with some provisions and a change of clothes. He didn't even have his invisibility cloak; he had left it in the tower after… Dumbledore. His eyes misted, and for the first time since he had returned to Privet Drive, he gave himself over to unbridled mourning. Hot tears erupted and his heart let out a silent lugubrious scream.
Sitting on his bed, he didn't notice the barn owl that arrived with the copy of "The Daily Prophet". He had kept his subscription, and the paper had kept publishing, although the articles had gotten shorter and less varied. The headlines tended to replicate the theme of "Voldemort returned, Wreaking Havoc on Both Worlds". The large bird hopped onto the floor. Harry took the letter he had written, and strapped it onto the owl's leg in place of the newspaper. The bird looked disgruntled, but flew off regardless. Harry hoped that the letter would be delivered. Time was almost up.