Author's Note: I'm so sorry about the long time between updates. College has been kicking my ass and then I had an accident at work (I very nearly took off my finger) and I can't type. I'm having my sister do this for me. So as not to lose readers, I am posting what I have so far for chapter 3. It's not much, but hopefully it will do for a while.

Chapter Three

Loose Ends

True to Ron's word, Mr. Weasley arrived Monday morning to escort Harry back to the Burrow. Harry had his trunk packed and Hedwig in her cage waiting at the door. This moment seemed too surreal for Harry, who had officially decided he was not returning to the Dursley's after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Dumbledore had wanted him to come back and he had. But now the time had come for him to do what he was meant to do. He subconsciously gripped the locket - the fake horcrux - tightly in his hand. He had taken to wearing it every day, having it constantly on his person, so he would never forget.

The Dursley's were sitting in the living room. Aunt Petunia looked nervous and Dudley looked ill, but Uncle Vernon was already as angry as ever, for he had asked Harry earlier that morning who they were sending to pick him up.

"Ron's dad . . . Mr. Weasley. You remember-"

"That ruddy idiot who almost blew up our house!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

Harry thought that was a severe exaggeration, but he answered: "Er . . . yeah, that's him. I don't know if he's coming alone or not, either."

"So, you're telling me that we might have a bunch of-of . . . weirdos knocking on our door?"

Harry had started to ignore him by this point. There was no use in arguing and it was better to just let his Uncle have his rant. As Harry waited by the foot of the stairs, he caught a few muttered: "...not hosting the damn circus . . . " and "finally leaving, and good riddance . . . " coming from the other room.

Harry had half-expected them to be celebrating. He had informed them that morning of his decision to remain at the Burrow after the wedding and that they needn't worry about the arrival of Ron and Hermione.

"Too right!" Uncle Vernon had exclaimed, but Aunt Petunia had said nothing. In fact, she had been acting very strangely all morning. She kept shooting Harry furtive glances and couldn't seem to stay in the same position for more than a few minutes. The only time she had spoken was to remind Uncle Vernon that Harry still had to remain welcome in their house, at least until July 31st. She did so, not grudgingly or disdainfully, but quite calmly, as if she had given the matter a lot of thought. She hadn't said anything more about Snape or Dumbledore since that day two weeks ago, which suited Harry fine; if there was one person he didn't want to talk about Dumbledore with, it was definitely his Aunt Petunia, the woman who had denied that magic had even existed for ten years and tried very hard to pretend that she hadn't had a witch for a sister.

At around half-past ten, Dudley - tired of his mother's fidgeting and his father's incessant muttering - decided to saunter over to where Harry was sitting by the stairs.

"So," he said, looming over Harry.

"So what?" Harry retorted.

Dudley scowled, crossing his meaty arms over his wide chest. Dudley's musculature had become even more defined over the last year, and he was now as tall as Uncle Vernon and just as wide. "You're finally gone for good."

"Just figured that out now, did you, Dudders? What, you're not going to miss me, are you? I mean, I know I was your favorite punching bag, but really."

Dudley's scowl deepened. "You know, you're acting pretty tough for someone who's about to die."

Harry blinked. "Are you planning on killing me or something?"

Dudley smirked. "I'm not stupid, you know. I was listening two years ago, when you said that Dark Lord of the Sith or whatever was back. I was listening when you said he was after you. And I know that you had to be allowed back in the house every year to protect you from him. But now you're leaving." Dudley's pudgy, pig-nosed face was just inches from Harry's now. "I mean, he killed your parents, Potter. You don't stand a chance."

Harry was taken aback. This sudden upsurge of hostility was quite unnerving, even from Dudley, who had made it his life's mission to be nothing but hostile to everyone and everything around him. Harry refused to back down, however. "Shows how much you know, Dudley." He glared back into his cousin's eyes, and decided just to go the usual route: "You have no idea how powerful I am."

Dudley's gaze wavered ever so slightly. "You can't scare me. I told you, I'm not stupid. You can't do magic until your birthday."

Harry shrugged. "I can wait."

He hit the jackpot on that one. Dudley paled slightly and took a step back just as there was a knock on the door. He jumped and sprinted for the living room as Harry leapt off the stairs and wrenched it open, and came face to face with . . .

Nothing.

Harry stared. "Moody's invisibility cloak?" he asked the thin air in front of him.

"Righto, Harry," came Mr. Weasley's voice. He cleared his throat.

"Oh, right . . . er. . . what is your greatest ambition?"

"To find out how airplanes stay up. Which reminds me! Anthony Dreyfus . . . he works in my department . . . new recruit . . . he's Muggleborn and his brother actually happens to be one of those 'pillbots' that fly the planes! I was thinking about asking him . . . oh, my."

Harry was too busy inwardly laughing at Mr. Weasley's use of the word "pillbots" that he hadn't realized that the Durlsey's had crowded around the door as well. Curiosity, it seemed, had surpassed their dislike for all things magical, and they had come to see what the hold up was.

"Who are you talking to, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, looking around the patio wildly. "Neighbors are going to think you've gone round the twist, standing in the doorway and - ARGGHHHH!"

Mr. Weasley had just taken off Moody's extra cloak. Harry pulled him inside quickly and slammed the door. He'd been sure that no one was outside or even looking at Number Four when Mr. Weasley had appeared out of nowhere, but Uncle Vernon's yell was probably heard halfway to Hogsmeade.

"Ah, yes, sorry about that. I hope I didn't give you all a fright," Mr. Weasley apologized, grinning sheepishly. "It's, er, very nice to see you all again." He knew well enough not to bother to try and shake Uncle Vernon's hand this time, and instead turned back to Harry. "We forgot about your question, Harry-"

"My patronus is a stag. It's me. I've got my stuff right here. Let's go."

Uncle Vernon was still looking daggers at Mr. Weasley as Harry hefted his trunk and Hedwig's cage over to the door. "Are we Apparating from here, or . . . " Harry began, but Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"No, I don't think that'd be a very good idea, Harry, even if you are with me. The Ministry doesn't keep tabs on which Muggles know about magic and which don't, and given the circumstances-"

Harry shrugged, ignoring the confused (and furious, in Uncle Vernon's case) looks he was getting from the Dursleys. "I get it. That's fine."

"There's an Apparition point right around the corner," Mr. Weasley explained. He was starting to look a bit uneasy. "Um . . . Harry, I think I'm going to wait outside . . . "

"Good idea," Uncle Vernon rumbled. Harry shot him a look.

"I've got my cloak right here in my trunk," Harry said, taking that they would need to travel unseen. "Hermione rescued it for me after . . . well, you know. It'll only take a minute."

Mr. Weasley shifted uncomfortably as Harry dug around inside his trunk for his father's Invisibility Cloak. It shimmered as he pulled it out and draped it over his arm. He handed Hedwig's cage to an obliging Mr. Weasley, and then turned to face his relatives.

"Well . . . " he began. "I guess I really should say thank you." Uncle Vernon huffed slightly. Harry ignored him, and instead spoke directly to his Aunt. "It, er, probably wasn't easy for you to do what you did. But it's kept me safe, and I know . . . I know my Mum would be thankful to you. And, I guess, I am, too. So . . . yeah. Thanks."

Aunt Petunia was shooting Harry nervous glances again. She looked like she rather wanted to say something, but apparently thought better of it, and remained silent. Harry shrugged.

"Ready, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry grinned at him. "Absolutely." This is it, Harry thought. To his dismay, he felt a little apprehensive. He wasn't leaving for Hogwarts this time. There would be no going back. He found himself taking one last look around the Dursley's parlor, his eyes finally coming to rest on his relatives. "Yeah . . . it's time." He turned back to Mr. Weasley and the door. "I'm ready."