Harry forced himself to stay awake and heal the worst of his injuries. He had to Apparate away before anybody else came, following whatever it was that had let them track him. He needed to go somewhere safe, but he couldn't take the risk of been followed to Grimmauld place.

There was only one place he could go to that was as protected as there, even though he hated the idea.

Standing up and finding the strength of his newly healed leg adequate, Harry Apparated to the smallest bedroom of Privet Drive.

Appearing in the room as planned, he quickly found himself at the business end of a wand. A few swapped questions and a cancelled disguise later, Percy started angrily raging at Harry.

It took Harry a good five minutes to figure out what Percy was going on about.

"All I said was 'good morning' and 'is there any milk?', and the next thing I know they are yelling and screaming and calling me the most abusive of names," yelled Percy. "What did you tell these people? Did you think it would be amusing to make them hate me? As if it is not bad enough having to follow the strict guidelines you left regarding my presence at the Ministry, you just couldn't help but make my time here more difficult, could you? I should have you charged with Muggle baiting for whatever lies you have told your family about me!"

It sounded like Percy had finally met the Dursleys.

"I didn't tell them anything," Harry snapped. "But I did tell you to keep to your room and not interact with them."

"You set me up!" yelled Percy. "I know it. You are just like those brothers of mine. I bet you thought it would be a great joke to put locks on outside of the door and try to keep me locked in all night didn't you? If I wasn't doing this at the personal request of the Minister, I would have left long ago!"

Harry was fighting to keep his temper.

"Percy, maybe you have a problem hearing. I told you I didn't get along with my relatives. Didn't you listen to Ron when he told what it was like for me here? Did you think he and the twins were lying about the bars on the windows they had to pull off to rescue me when I was twelve?"

"You can't expect me to take those fairy tales seriously!" Percy yelled. "Don't be absurd."

That was it. Harry grabbed Percy by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the door. Barely pausing to open the door with a quick flick of his wand, Harry almost carried him into the hallway, ignoring the older man's startled protests.

Although Percy's Polyjuiced form was identical to Harry's and he was uninjured, Harry's rage gave him extra muscle as he forced Percy down the stairs to stand outside the cupboard underneath that had served as his room for most of his childhood.

"See that door Percy? See those locks? Open it Percy. Open the door and the locks and look inside. That was my bedroom from when I can first remember up to the day my Hogwarts letter arrived. OPEN THE DAMN DOOR PERCY!"

He hurled Percy at the door.

Shocked, Percy just stood there looking dumbfounded. Harry knew he could see the locks; locks that had no purpose on a cupboard.

"WELL PERCY? DO YOU BELIEVE IT NOW?"

Percy couldn't speak. He just stood, staring uncomprehendingly at the door.

Harry heard a gasp and whirled to find Petunia standing in the hallway. She took one look at Harry and his double, and then fainted.

"OH THAT'S JUST BLEEDING GREAT!" screamed Harry, looking at his Aunt's crumpled form. "JUST – BLEEDING - GREAT."

Harry levitated Petunia up to her bed and left her there. He noticed the whole house was still ready for painting, but none of the painting appeared to have been started yet. The old paint hadn't even been removed.

Unless they were repainting it the same colours it was before, he thought.

Percy seemed to still be in shock. It took three tries to get him to answer when Harry asked if he knew anything about finding tracking charms.

Once he snapped out of it, Percy started giving Harry a lecture about Seventh year DADA classes, but Harry cut him off.

"Look I have just been chased and assaulted by a dozen wizards, probably Death Eaters, who could follow me even when I Apparated, so I don't need you to lecture me, I just need to get rid off the blasted charm," he snapped angrily.

For the first time Percy seemed to take in Harry's appearance and immediately began casting several spells.

After the fifth spell, a glowing red patch appeared on Harry's shoulder, where he remembered getting touched in his journey through the twists of Knockturn Alley. Somebody had recognised him and tagged him.

"That is a rather sophisticated tracking charm," said Percy.

"Can they follow it here?"

"No. The protections around this house will prevent them from coming here, but they may know you are in this general area."

"Can you get rid of it?" asked Harry, slumping down onto the lumpy bed that had been his own for six summers.

Although he had become used to sleeping in much more comfortable beds, there was something unsettlingly familiar about the lumpy mattress and bent springs that strangely helped to relax him.

"Yes, but I don't think you should. I think you should let me transfer it to myself. That way the people who placed the tracking spell will think you have returned to the routine at the Ministry."

Harry's mind started to wander as exhaustion finally caught up with him. Percy seemed to be making some sense, but why would he take on the extra danger of not being able to easily escape if he was attacked?

He must have said something out loud because Percy answered him.

"I may not agree with you on many things, Harry," he said. "But having the public think it is you at the Ministry has been well worth the effort. If this spell makes more of our enemies think you are at the Ministry, I am willing to carry it for you, despite the increased risk."

Incredibly, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep.

"Go see your family, Percy," he heard himself say, as if from far away. "You have been away too long if you think risking your life to make me look good is worthwhile. Go visit them, now. I'll stay here until you get back. I promise…"

Then Harry knew nothing except a deep sleep filled with insane dreams of Percy climbing out of the window and Inferi knocking on his door to ask if he wanted his tea. The whole time Harry was trying to remember the words to a spell that he had forgotten the effects of, but knew he had to cast to make Professor McGonagall stop shaking him.

"Harry, wake up," came Percy's insistent voice, dragging Harry from his slumber.

Harry struggled to sit up. He was stiff and sore in places he had known he had.

"What time is it?" he asked. "And why do you look like you and not like me?"

Percy smiled.

"It is almost twelve hours since you appeared in this room and scared me half to death, and just over nine hours since you offered to stay here while I visited my parents; an offer I took you up on, eventually."

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Harry sat up straighter, noticing how stiff he felt, and looked closely at the young, red headed man.

"How did it go?"

"Rather better than I feared, and worse than I hoped. There is, I am afraid, much that I must do to regain the trust of my family."

Harry nodded in agreement. "But you know they'll come around, right? So long as you don't mess it up, like you did last Christmas, they'll always take you back."

Percy's smile stiffened slightly, but he nodded. "Now, let's get this tracking spell off you and you can be on your way."

Harry suddenly remembered that Ron and Hermione didn't know he was safe.

"Father gave Ron a Floo call when I told him you had unexpectedly taken my place here," Percy told him when he mentioned it. "Ronald was rather upset, but seemed happy to find you were safe, if not wholly sound. It took quite a while to convince Mother not to come rushing over, though. Luckily Father agreed with me and convinced Mother you were safer if she stayed away, although she did insist on sending you dinner." He indicated a large ceramic bowl sitting on the old writing desk.

Harry relaxed and allowed Percy to perform the spell to transfer the tracker.

There was so much magic that Harry didn't know. Percy had said the tracking spell was seventh year Defence magic, but Harry suspected it would only be on the agenda if you were an over-achiever like Percy, or Hermione.

Defence had been Harry's best and favourite subject, but time and time again he found himself completely lacking in knowledge and skill when it countered. Luck, and the talent of others had kept him alive more often than not.

It wasn't enough.

He had to find a way to get better at magic, and quickly. Dumbledore's memories had to be the shortcut he was after; there was no other use for them.

"It's done," Percy told him.

Harry hadn't even noticed what spells Percy had used. He stood up to leave but Percy sat him down again, handing him a pile of letters.

"These are official and important letters that you need to address," he was told.

One look at the first letter and Harry felt a new headache coming on. Browsing through the rest just made it worse.

"Why does the Ministry need me to fill in a form declaring that I become an adult on my birthday when they must already know because they are the ones who sent the form to me?" he asked in confusion.

"And why would Gringotts send me a 'Request for New Vault' form when I already have one?"

Percy began trying to explain, but Harry just felt his head start to hurt worse.

Thanking Percy for his help, Harry took the letters and the ceramic bowl of food, and then Apparated back to Grimmauld place, where he discovered Ron and Hermione, semi-clothed and in a very compromising position on one of the lounges.

They were so involved in each other that they hadn't heard Harry's apparition in the other room. His shock at witnessing his friends locked in a passionate embrace passed quickly, as his more mischievous side immediately wanted to conjure a bucket of water onto the pair.

At the last second, he stopped himself, and left the room quietly. Although it would have been fun to cause a scene and embarrass them, he had suddenly thought of Ginny and what he would have felt if their places had been reversed and it had been himself and his girlfriend on the lounge when somebody else walked in.

Ron and Hermione getting together had been a looming issue for at least the last year now. Harry was deathly afraid that something would go wrong between them, and he would loose either or both of his friends.

If things went bad while they were hunting Horcruxes, it could go very bad. Ron, never one of the most level-headed people to begin with, might seriously endanger them if he was more concerned about arguing with Hermione than doing the right thing.

Once again Harry found himself questioning his acceptance of their help on his quest. Surely they would see it was more important for them to be safe, to take care of each other, rather than following him into danger. It was not as if they couldn't help him, he just needed to keep them out of harms way, just like Ginny.

Harry made his decision. He wouldn't let them come with him if he was going somewhere dangerous. He could use their help, but when it came time to go after a Horcrux, he would do all that he could to keep them out of it, whether they wanted it that way or not.

Having made his choice, he went to his tent room and sat thinking about his lack of magical talent, while he consumed the magnificent shepherd's pie Mrs Weasley had sent him.

He felt he had made a lot of progress in his abilities; once he sorted out that his main fault was a lack of concentration. Tonks's suggestion about practicing had been invaluable and it had definitely improved his, and Ron's, nonverbal skills dramatically, as well as their transfiguration ability, but it was nowhere near what it needed to be.

To be honest, Harry doubted if he was much more advanced than any other sixth year, or at least ones who had a decent teacher in the subject.

His thoughts returned once again to Dumbledore's memories. Taking the trunk from where had left it, he opened it up at random and stared at the bottles of silver memories. What were they, just a teaching aid like Hermione suggested, or something more? Why had he given them to Harry, especially since he hadn't given him the Pensieve?

"Because he didn't expect to die yet," Harry said, speaking out loud the thoughts that had plagued him but he had been too afraid to voice. "He hadn't finished making bottles."

As if recognising his thoughts, the next time he opened the lid it was full of empty bottles. Closing the lid again, Harry thought of an advanced spell and opened it. The bottle containing the spell was in the top tray.

He picked up the small crystal container and held it up to the light. Inside, the memory swirled like a thick smoke.

There had to be a way.

If he could learn enough he wouldn't need Ron and Hermione as much. He needed to be able to dual Snape and Voldemort and have a chance of winning, without spending years learning what they already knew and had mastered. There had to be a way to jumpstart his education and finish this before Voldemort killed everybody.

Harry pulled the stopper from the bottle and poked the memory with his wand. It clung to the end and lifted part way out of the bottle. Twisting his wand made it loop around, like a thick string of spaghetti. Once the memory was completely wound around the stick Harry lifted it up and stared at it.

"This had better work," he said, and then thrust the memory covered wand against his temple.

Pain laced through his head, as if somebody had stuck a hot iron into it, nearly causing him to drop his wand.

He could feel the memory sticking into his skull; it was resisting. Grinding his teeth together, he tried to force it inside, pulling his wand back and then pushing in again, like working a plunger, but in reverse.

The pain in his head intensified and he could feel the memory moving inside of his skull. It was excruciating, but not as bad as a Cruciatus. With one final push and an accompanying cry of pain, Harry forced the memory completely in, and promptly passed out.