Author's Note: I'm truly sorry if the letters haven't been up to par, but I'm getting a little tired of having to write at least one letter for every chapter, I promise this is the last one for awhile! –wipes brow- Thanks to all my reviewers, especially RussellGirl15 again! I fixed the sting/string error, and made the concept of the magical radiation more clear. Don't worry, the plot should start to pick up in the next few chapters. My goal is to have the wedding chapter finished by the end of Spring Break (Sunday, April 16th) Also, in case anyone gets confused, Hermione has been at the Burrow for a few days, but she left for the day to spend time with her parents. WOW that was a long author's note. Sorry bout that. On with the story.

RISING FROM THE ASHES

Chapter Three – Back to the Burrow

Harry awoke on his birthday in the early hours of the morning to find the mysterious owl pecking him impatiently on the nose. He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his bright green eyes.

Hedwig and the Hogwarts owl had already flown away, and this tawny owl was the last left.

"Alright, alright," Harry muttered, taking the letter. The owl gave a dignified hoot, and flew off.

Strange birds, owls, mused Harry. The fact that every owl seemed to have its own personality had always puzzled him. Perhaps it was the influence of the magic they were always around that gave them their individuality.

He ripped open the letter, and read.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It has come to our attention that you are the inheritor of a number of items in the will of the late Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore. It is requested that you attend the reading of the will at 10:00 AM on the 5th of August, at Gringotts Wizarding bank, located in Diagon Alley.

Signed,

Griphook

Harry sighed, placing the parchment with all his other letters. People were certainly making it hard to forget his grief.

Wonder what Dumbledore would have left me, of all people? Harry couldn't help wondering.

Well, he would have to go to Gringotts anyway, before he left to go looking for horcruxes, as he certainly couldn't be out in the world without money for food and shelter.

Now that he no longer had to deal with the insistent owl, Harry lay back onto his pillows, planning to get in a few more hours of sleep before the Dursleys awoke. The thought of time made Harry wonder vaguely just how early he had awoken, and he glanced at his watch.

4:00 AM.

A jolt went through Harry's stomach. It was 4:00 AM on July 31st. It was his birthday, and he was seventeen.

This was the day he had fantasized about since he had been accepted to Hogwarts. He could do magic outside of school, and in just over twenty-four hours, he would be leaving the Dursley's forever.

However, it also meant he would be significantly less protected against Voldemort than before. Harry still didn't quite understand how the ancient magical spell worked, how he had managed to survive all these years.

Maybe Hermione knows, Harry thought. He would ask her when he arrived at the Burrow.

Looking around the room, Harry realized that now would be a good time to start packing, and scrambled around the room, gathering up various articles of clothing, books, and personal items. He had picked up his last sock when he dropped every thing on the floor with a thump.

"What on earth am I doing?" he wondered aloud, disgusted at himself. He could do magic now, couldn't he? He might as well make use of it!

"Wingardium Leviosa," he called, and everything in the pile flew into the air, hovering over his trunk. Harry grinned. What would his aunt and uncle say if they found him using magic in their home? He lowered his wand, and everything fell into the trunk in a heap.

Harry shrunk his possessions so that everything would fit. This way, he didn't have to go to the trouble of folding and strategically stuffing textbooks so that they would fit between his broomstick and his spare shoes.

Now he was free to do as he pleased until tomorrow. Heart pounding in anticipation Harry lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Just one more day until he was free forever.

…

"Bring me my coffee!" Uncle Vernon ordered, banging his fist on the table.

Harry rolled his eyes, but complied, and sat down to eat lunch.

He watched his Uncle drink, his wide eyes bulging as he gulped down the hot fluid. He smacked his lips, and dabbed his mustache. "Alright, now clear the table, you worthless freak."

Dudley sniggered, but Harry's face grew red with rage.

"No!" He shouted, knocking over his chair in his anger. He stood up, bracing himself on the table. "This is the last straw. Today is my birthday and I am an adult. I don't have to listen to a word you say because tomorrow I'll be gone. You have treated me like scum my entire life, and I refuse to cater to your needs for one more second. Clear your own table."

It took all the resolve he had to not pull out his wand and hex his uncle then and there, but he relented.

"What in blazes…" sputtered Uncle Vernon. "After all we've done for you, all these years. How dare you, show some respect!"

Harry simply turned his back on him, and marched up to his room.

Dudley looked from his mother to his father. "Once he leaves," he asked, "Can we turn his room into an entertainment center?"

…

The first of August could not have arrived fast enough for Harry. He had not received one single birthday card, not even from Ron or Hermione.

I suppose they're too busy to remember my birthday, he had thought darkly. But his hurt was pushed out of his thoughts by the excitement of finally being rid of the Dursley's. True, he would be entering a mad house, what with Bill and Fleur's wedding drawing near, but it was far better than spending the rest of the summer at 4 Privet Drive.

"So how will these people be arriving?" Aunt Petunia asked suspiciously. "I'm still trying to get soot out of the carpet from their last visit."

"They will get here how they get here," Harry said forcedly, "And you will treat them with respect."

It was a wonderful feeling, to be able to speak his mind, to no longer have to take abuse from the people who had made his life hell. They knew that if he was angered he could very well turn the lot of them into toads if he pleased, and had been a bit more polite than usual.

Aunt Petunia need not have worried, for four members of the Weasley family arrived at their doorstep on foot, and could have passed as Muggles if they were being judged by their dress.

Harry answered the door with a huge grin on his face. "I'll just get my stuff then?" he asked, holding it open as Ron, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley.

"Yes," said Mr. Weasley, "Ron…Fred...George…you three go and help him. I want to have a chat with the Muggles about eckletricitry."

"Er, that's electricity, Mr. Weasley," Harry whispered on his way up the stairs.

"Right you are, Harry. Just as I said, elecktrilcily."

…

"Well, here we are," said Ron.

Even though Harry and Ron were now of age, they did not yet have their apparition licenses, and had to do side-along apparition with Fred and George. Ron, incidentally, wasn't too pleased with the arrangements.

"Remember, boys," Mr. Weasley warned. "Don't rile up your mother, she's very – er – stressed at the present time." He seemed to be directing his comment to Fred and George, who looked at each other and grinned.

"Of course we won't, dad!" Fred promised, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Yeah," added George, "What in the name of Merlin would we get out of frustrating our dear old mum to her wits' end, however amusing it might be?"

"Absolutely nothing!"

"I, for one, am astonished you would think such a thing of us!"

"Astounded."

"Thunder-struck."

"Stunned."

"Flabbergas—"

"Enough, you gits!" Ron demurred, rolling his eyes at Harry.

"Oh, don't mind Ron," George said.

"Yeah, he's just grumpy because his favorite brunette left to spend time with her parents yesterday and still hasn't returned," Fred winked.

Ron's ears turned scarlet.

…

"Oh, it's so good to have you here, Harry," fussed Mrs. Weasley.

"Good to be here, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry bemusedly, watching her as she hemmed Fleur's wedding gown.

Using a mannequin as her model, she was adjusting the train so that it swept gracefully around the hips, coming to rest lightly on the floor.

The fabric looked like butter in her hands as she pinched together the sleeves with bobby pins. It was pure white, and had an intricate pearl design in the front. The skirt was not fat and puffy as wedding gown skirts typically were, but long, slim and form-fitting. The bottom splayed out gracefully, just a few inches longer than the mannequin itself.

"Molly," breathed Mr. Weasley, "That gown is beautiful, where did you find the galleons – er, I mean, wherever did you buy it?"

Mrs. Weasley flushed with pride. "I didn't buy it," she informed him, "I made it."

"It's amazing, mum!" exclaimed the three Weasley boys.

"Do you really think so?" she asked them breathlessly, straightening up and tucking her loose red hair into a bun.

"It really is, Mrs. Weasley," Harry assured her.

"Well dear, you've done such a wonderful job of making it, even us men can appreciate it," Mr. Weasley chuckled.

"What we're really appreciating is how the wearer of the gown is going to look," said Fred in an undertone.

"Hey, watch it," came a voice from the doorway, "That's my bride-to-be you're talking about."

"Bill!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley in despair. With a flick of her wand, she sent the mannequin and her sewing supplies flying to the back of the room, and out of sight. "You can't see the gown before Fleur wears it, dear, it'll ruin everything.

"Don't worry, mum, I didn't see a thing," Bill said, entering the room and leaning against the wall.

His hair was as long as ever, and the same fang earring still hung from his left earlobe. Most of his wolfish features had faded slightly, although his hair was slightly darker and more thick, and his teeth slightly longer.

Mrs. Weasley eyed it in distaste. "I do hope you'll take it out for the ceremony, dear," she said disapprovingly, "To think what Fleur's family would say."

"They won't care, mum," Bill said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, but Bill this is your wedding you do want to look presentable don't you?"

"I reckon that's our cue to head upstairs," said Ron quietly, and the four of them did as he suggested.

…

"So, has Fleur arrived yet?" Harry asked, sitting on Ron's bed.

"Nope," said George, leaning against the dresser and twirling his wand lazily between his fingers.

"Charlie's flying in from Romania the day before the wedding, and Fleur and her family are coming around 11:00 AM the day of the wedding," Ron explained, taking a seat next to Harry and picking up the latest edition of The Adventures of Marvin Miggs, the Mad Muggle and rifling through it.

"Where will they all sleep?" Harry asked perplexedly.

"Dunno, but we'll let mum worry about that, won't we?" said Fred, "The reception's going to be in our backyard, but what with nearly three hundred guests, I'm at a loss as to how we're all going to fit."

"Dumbledore would've had an idea," said Ron quietly.

The four of them sat in silence for a few minutes, until a noise outside made them all jump.

Ron ran to the window, and peered out, but shook his head in disappointment and sat back down.

Fred and George exchanged grins.

…

Hours later, when the sky had gone from a bright blue to navy with pink and orange tinged clouds, Fred and George stood up, turning to leave

"Well," said Fred, "It's been fun."

"Loads of laughs," added George.

"Indeed."

"Verily so."

"Entertaining, to say the least."

"Quite."

"WILL YOU PRATS GIVE IT A REST?" Ron bellowed.

"Temper, temper," teased Fred. He peered out of Ron's door. "Well look at that, it appears Miss Granger has arrived."

"Well," said George brightly. "I smell dinner, so I'm off. Coming, Gred?"

"Undeniably, Forge."

They left.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"I'll be right back," said Ron, and he too exited the room.

Harry sighed, leaning back on Ron's Chudley Cannons pillow. He hadn't seen Ginny yet, and his brain was telling him it was a good thing, the less he saw of her the better. His heart, however, felt differently.

Several minutes passed, and he could hear faint traces of giggles and an occasional "Ssh!"

When five minutes had passed, and Ron had still not returned, Harry got tired of waiting and headed downstairs.

He was greeted with a loud "Happy Birthday!"

The Weasley family and Hermione stood before him, beaming. The table behind them was full of food, and the floor in front of them was piled with presents.

Ginny stood dead center, clutching an enormous cake, with seventeen candles that looked more like firecrackers, and had to have come from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Make a wish," she said softly.

He did.