The mood in the Weasley household had astonishingly died down incredibly quickly after the wedding. For the past several weeks all that had been on everyone's minds had been the wedding, the wedding… the wedding. Now that the wedding was over, they were all desperately searching for a joy to anticipate; hope to cling on to. Each of them shielded their bottomless sense of foreboding with a flimsy facade of cheer.

They knew a first step had to be taken, but the question was where? In which direction?

Harry had sullenly left The Burrow immediately on the day following the marriage. His seventeenth birthday was approaching too fast for comfort, and although the dread had already seeped into his brain and was threatening to throw him off the edge, Harry had no choice but to do as Dumbledore had instructed. Harry could almost hear Dumbledore's calm, unruffled tone as he recalled him explaining it to the Dursleys, that day he had called in at Number 4.

"This magic will cease to operate the moment Harry turns seventeen; in other words, the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time."

Harry could not seem to grasp the logic behind this absurd order. How the obnoxious, self-centered Dursleys who loathed Harry to the ultimate, had ever or could ever play a role in protecting him. Sure, Petunia was his mother's sister, but she sure as heck did not behave like it. What was the point in proclaiming love as a shield if it was hardly less flimsy than Dobby's own tea-cosy? Where was the reasoning behind wearing love so proudly as a badge, when it was so hollow; so uselessly void? He was loved a great deal more here at The Burrow, where all the Weasleys' affection put together could have far surpassed what Petunia's blood could have ever offered him in terms of protection.

Harry was stabbing absent-mindedly at his scrambled eggs thinking off the endless abyss of misery that lay ahead of him, when Ron slumped into the kitchen, in a brand new, yet horribly creased pair of Chudley Canons pajamas, announcing his arrival with a massive yawn. His flaming red hair stuck out at odd angles and a bump was clearly visible on his forehead, from when he had rolled off his bed the night before. He noticed Harry's grim expression and shuffled into a chair next to him.

"Mornin' mate. Some dinner last night eh? I could barely lift myself off the bed". Harry just grunted.

"-And this weird lump on my head", he frowned, gingerly rubbing his forehead. "No idea how it got there. Think it might have been Fred and George's doing. What d'you reckon, Harry?" Harry just grunted again. Ron sighed heavily.

"Look mate, this is hard on everyone. We're hating this as much as you are. No one wants you to-"

"What was that? Hating it as much as me, did I hear? I'm the one who's got to bloody well go off and stay with the damned Dursleys again, while the rest of you get to be all together, happy and not locked up in some blasted excuse for a bedroom, without a single bloody soul to talk to!" Harry cried, not realizing that he had stood up and had tightened his grip around his fork.

"Harry, calm down mate, you're gonna wake every-"

"You really haven't got a single clue about how it feels like to live with them do you? Year after year I have to go back and for what? I don't get treated like their nephew, heck I don't even get treated like a bloody human! And what's the reason for going back this time? So their pathetic LOVE is going to keep me from being murdered? They don't love me, they never did and they never will!" Harry had been careful not to raise his voice too much; unwanted attention was the last thing he needed right out. He steadied his breath and slowly sat back down. He turned to Ron with the most seriousness Ron has ever seen.

"Dumbledore ordered me to go back there and I don't really have a choice. But what I can't understand is why I have to. If it's my mother's blood that's flowing in their veins it sure as hell doesn't seem like it." He paused and looked at the floor, as thought weighing what he wanted to say next.

"Honestly, I don't know how much more time any of us still have with one another. It would only take a flick of a wand for one of us to die- and we all know that. Leaving for the Dursleys', might just be a huge mistake and God knows what could happen in those three weeks. They definitely won't let me have Hedwig flying around delivering letters or even the Prophet. It's going to be the nightmare of two years ago all over again."

There was a long silence after he said this, during which both he and Ron stared thoughtfully at Mrs. Weasley's new collection of china. Ron could not help but agree to what Harry had just heaved off of his chest. Nothing was predictable; the least expected tragedy could spring up put of nowhere and stab anyone from behind. He had to face it. Lord Voldemort had eliminated all possible obstacles so nothing stood in the way of him and Harry anymore. The thought cruelly punctured Ron's very soul.

"How're you going to do it though?" Ron finally asked, after five whole minutes of silence. "How're you going to find all those horcruxes and, you know, get him?" There was a note of caution in his voice, as though he were trying to avoid another blast, and also a tone of sincere concern; one only a best friend could convey.

Harry frowned deeply as a new wave of emotion rose in him. He could not quite put his finger on whether it was fear or despondency. The nagging reality that he had no one to completely guide his way anymore, frankly scared him. The Weasleys' would undoubtedly be there for him where it came to emotional support, but how much could they help in the tedious, manipulative search and ultimate destruction of one horcrux, let alone four others. No, Harry corrected himself. It was not four more horcruxes, it was five. The one that remained inside Voldemort himself would have to be destroyed as well. Sirius had gone too, and though, if he had still been alive, he would still be living in hiding, the encouragement he could have given Harry may have been completely reputable. The death of Dumbledore, was however, what raked at Harry's emotions so vociferously. The way he had artfully managed to pinpoint the exact location of where the horcrux, although fake, was hidden and how he gained access to almost invisible cave, merely by mumbling to himself and touching the walls here and there, deeply overwhelmed Harry, as much as it terrified him. There was no way he could be that ingenious in figuring out where secret locations lay. He was not a mastermind. He was just a sixteen year old boy, barely able to grasp the magnitude of what he was going to have to face.

"I don't know, Ron.", he answered and upon seeing the dejection in his best friend's eyes, he added. "I will find a way though, Ron. It needs to happen. It's a prophecy after all."

Mr. Weasley had suggested that Harry was reaching the Dursleys' via the Knight Bus.

"They'll be guarding every Floo Network in the world with insanely incriminating eyes. You'd have to be put through all sorts all garbage checks. I heard there's a new inspector in London who's supposed to be a specialist at nervousness scans."

"Thanks Mr. Weasley I really appreciate the tip." Harry nodded, heaving his trunk over to the sidewalk.

"It's no problem, Harry m'boy. Is that all then? You sure you haven't left anything behind?"

"Gosh Dad, you're starting to sound like mum!" Ron chortled as he walked towards the roadside with Hermione, who was very tearful. Seeing Harry standing by his things, quite obviously trying to hide his disappointment in departure, totally broke her heart. She jerked her hand out of Ron's and ran towards Harry, hugging him so hard that he almost keeled over onto a stray chicken.

"Oh do b-be careful w-won't you Harry? I p-promise we'll write to you every d-day!" she cried in into his shoulder in between sobs. If anyone was as upset as Hermione, it was Ginny. She avoided looking at him and kept staring at her feet, as though willing for time to go faster. Harry sensed her aloofness but stopped himself from saying anything to her. Now was not the time to accentuate his sore mood.

"If there's anything you need Harry dear, anything at all, we'll be here for you. Just remember that, darling.", whispered Mrs. Weasley as he moved in to hug Harry too. After a very tearful farewell, Harry turned and waved his hand awkwardly out into the street. Very suddenly, though the headlights were not as glaring in broad daylight, the arrival of bright purple Knight Bus was unmistakable. It screeched to a halt right before Harry and when the doors jumped open, Harry was greeted by four very heavy set Ministry doormen.

"Where to?", one grunted.

"Number four Privet Drive. It's a muggle town", he added at the incredulous on their faces. They nodded curtly and stepped back to allow Harry in. He turned once more and waved at the Weasleys and Hermione, who was, by the time sobbing very uncontrollably. Even Ron's eyes seemed to have reddened.

"See you soon, mate", he waved and the purple doors banged shut.