Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the rightful owner of all the Harry Potter characters, settings, and major plot lines. Anything you recognize belongs to her, anything else is of my own mind. Please ask before archiving.
If You Love Something, Set It Free
Chapter One: The Burrow
The wind blew softly against Harry's face, causing his hair to sway in front of his eyes. The trees danced to the silent tune of the breeze as the brown leaves on the ground circled his feet and knocked up against his shoes. He held his trunk in his right hand and Hedwig's cage in his left, which was also trying to keep a grip on his broomstick. He looked up at the marvelous asymmetrical Burrow as he pondered whether or not he should actually go up and knock on the door. There was a beautiful summer's sunset to his right and he could feel the rays of gentle sunlight hit his cheek and warm it. The orange glow coated everything in front of him, making it seem as though it was lit by the heavens above. Harry took a few steps forward, the leaves crunching beneath his feet. He knew he would be welcomed; Mrs. Weasley made that very clear at the end of the term. He knew that he'd have a room there whenever necessary, but he still hesitated. As promised, he went back to the Dursley's when the year ended, and even though it frustrated him till he thought he could stand it no more, he stayed until he was of age, then, in the morning of his birthday, he packed all his things, and left, without so much as a good bye. He did leave a note; saying that they would never have to worry about him again, for he would never, ever, return to that house. His trunk was light, even though he packed everything of his he wanted to keep, he had used a charm to create more room, then, he Disapparated to the Burrow.
He continued to walk forward, hearing the quiet crackle of the leaves break with every step. He wasn't planning on returning to the Burrow this summer, even after receiving an invitation to Bill's wedding, but he changed his mind at the last minute, and decided to stay until the day after it. It was scheduled for August 6, he would only stay for a week, then he would leave most of his things with the Weasleys, pack light, and return to Godric's Hollow. His feet were leading him, seeing as his brain was a little tied up, and before he could even realize it, he was knocking on their door. It didn't even take two seconds before Ron Weasley, the second youngest of the Weasley children, flung the door open. Before he could even say anything, Ron was passed by a blur of light brown bushiness, and Harry was thrown back by a huge bear hug.
"Harry!" Hermione said as she squeezed him, "I'm so glad you're here!" As she released him, Ron came up and clapped his shoulder.
"Yeah mate. We've actually been watching you for the past five minutes, but mum said that we should wait for you to come by yourself."
"We missed you Harry," Hermione said, "We all missed you." Harry noticed the emphasis Hermione used on the word 'all'. His stomach squirmed, but he chose to ignore it, for the moment. He knew that sooner or later he would have to address it, it was inevitable, but he much preferred later. He tried not to think about it, for it was that one little fact that kept him away from the Burrow the most, and it made his stomach clench just to think about her.
"Come on Harry," Ron said to him as he grabbed Hedwig's trunk, "we can put your stuff in my room, Fred and George are back so they'll be using their's again." Harry nodded at him as he grabbed his trunk and hauled it up the winding stairs, while Hermione followed them to Ron's room. After setting his trunk down, Harry proceeded to sit on Ron's very bouncy bed as he let out a great sigh. Hermione sat down next to him while Ron sat down on a little wooden chair across from them. After a short, mildly awkward silence, Hermione spoke up.
"So...Harry... how have you been?" Harry clenched his fists at that question, trying desperately to not let them see. The past month had been hell. The news of tragic accidents and brutal slayings had left little hope in Harry's heart, especially after Dumbledore's death. It was the only thing he thought about for weeks after returning home to the Dursley's. They had asked him many questions, especially Aunt Petunia, who was fully aware what the return of Voldemort actually meant, but he had only given them half-truths and lies.
They soon gave up on attempting to receive any information from him, especially when he started to only come out of his room to eat at painfully awkward and quiet meals. He wore the fake Horcrux around his neck at all times, the cold against his skin reminding him of why Dumbledore died...for nothing. That fact always caused deep, intense anger to bubble up from the pit of his stomach and scold his heart. He knew it was that anger that was going to fuel his search for Voldemort. Voldemort… He was the cause of the all the emptiness in his heart, for all the pain in his life.
First he took away his parents, destroying any comfort Harry could ever receive from them, causing a bottomless void to developed in Harry's hear, then he took his beloved godfather, the one thing that Harry thought could finally help fill the emptiness where his parents' love should lie, and then Dumbledore, the only one who he had been able to attach himself to without holding anything back. Dumbledore was the only person left who absolutely knew Harry, who understood every fiber of his being, even though he would be far too humble to ever admit it, and Harry far too stubborn to ever realize it, it was undeniable. Of coarse, there was Hermione and Ron, and while Harry loved them like they were family, and while they did take away quite a lot of the pain, they could not take away all of it. Harry was grateful for everything they have given to him. People to love, a place to stay, true friends, and as long as they were willing to help, he would let them, to an extent. He didn't want them to get hurt, which had happened before. There were numerous time when they were lying in the hospital wing, and Harry would feel guilty whenever he looked down at one of them in a bed, but, he knew that they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had always been there to help when they could, and Harry actually knew that he would need them along the way, he would need their help, but they couldn't come along the whole way, he had to finish it on his own, the final task could only be done by himself.
However, there were people that he could never let follow him, no matter what. Ron and Hermione had proven themselves worthy, in more cases than one. They had shown they were more than capable of protecting themselves and Harry had to admit that, but there were people who, however powerful, he could never, ever risk. There were people that he could never be close to; for fear that Voldemort would use them to get to Harry. For fear that Voldemort would hurt them, just to hurt Harry, and Harry knew that if he Voldemort did try to do that, it would work. He couldn't stand to see her hurt, or to even think of her hurt. It tore him up inside. Harry suddenly realized that Hermione was still waiting for an answer. After what must have been a very long pause, Harry finally replied.
"I'm Fine." Hermione didn't look convinced, though she didn't push him any farther.
"What's going on here?" Harry asked before Ron could continue on that line of questioning. Hermione started explaining.
"We'll it's obviously been very busy since the wedding's in less than a week. I'm surprised at how quickly Bill and Fleur have managed to get it all arranged. I figure they just want to go through with it as soon as possible, seeing as... you know..." Harry nodded.
"So, is her family going to be here?" Ron nodded back at him.
"They're coming later today. Mum's been trying to get the backyard finished before they arrive. Don't know why though, wedding isn't for days." They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Mrs. Weasley broke it.
"Ron," Mrs. Weasley yelled up at them, "Come down here! Make yourselves useful and help with the decorations!" Ron groaned.
"Come on," He said, "It's best we stay on her good side, she's been itching to yell at people all week." They stood and headed down the stairs and out the back door.