He stared at the clock, willing it to go faster. When it didn't, he sighed and pulled out the letter he had received earlier that day.
Mr. Potter,
You probably think me dead, but I can assure you I'm not. Meet me at the Shrieking Shack at 1 am August 2nd. Discretion is of the utmost importance. Don't tell anyone where you are going.
-D
There was only one person Harry could think of who would call him "Mr. Potter", who's name began with a "D", and who he believed dead. It must be Dumbledore. But could it really be? Harry had watched him die. He had been at his funeral. But the letter was there in front of him as evidence. The only thing that was nagging at Harry was the handwriting. It wasn't Dumbledore's. Maybe he was hurt or weak and hadn't been able to write for himself? Of course, it could be a trick by Voldemort trying to get him alone so he could finish him off. But Harry didn't care, he was going.
He glanced at the clock again. 9:57pm. Harry moaned and laid down on his bed.
Finally, 12:01 am. He had decided to wait that extra minute to make sure. He jumped on his broomstick, levitated his trunk behind him, and took off for the Burrow.
When he arrived a few hours later, he was exhausted. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for him in the kitchen. "Harry dear! How was the trip? No troubles, I hope? You made good time. I hope you weren't flying too fast! I was so worried about you!" rambled Mrs. Weasley as she stepped back to evaluate Harry. "Goodness, hasn't that -family- of yours been feeding you? You're much too thin. Let me make you something to eat."
"Molly, dear. Give the boy some room. He looks spent. Come Harry, sit." Mr. Weasley beckoned to a chair at the kitchen table. Harry quickly made his way to it and sat.
"Thanks you. I am quite tired. And hungry," he added, much to the delight of Mrs. Weasley.
After a big mean and instructions from Mrs. Weasley to "Sleep as long as you need to, Dear," he climbed the stairs to the room he shared with Ron and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next day after Harry woke up was spent playing one-on-one Quidditch with Ron. The didn't talk about school or how Harry didn't plan on returning so he could search out the Horcruxes. That discussion could come later.
Fortunately Ron had gotten up at a decent hour that morning and had fallen asleep by midnight. Even though Harry disliked apparating (and technically didn't have his license, having just turned 17) he snuck out of the Weasley's house and a quarter to one and apparated to the woods outside of the Shrieking Shack and made a silent prayer the Ministry really couldn't tell it ha been him apparating and not one of the Weasley's. He took a deep breath and entered the Shrieking Shack. He took one look at who stood in front of him and said, "Great Merlin. It's you!"