A/N: A chapter that nothing really kind of happens in (Like the one before it!) but kind of essential to my half-formed changes-every-moment plot. Next chapter is going to totally ROCK by the way…just because lots of stuff happens. Thanks for all the reviews. Please R&R.

Disclaimer: You know the drill folks!

Decisions, Letters and Miles Away

Harry sat inside a tent, sipping coffee he had bought from a nearby town. The sun bathed the area outside in a cool green light as it shone through the trees; despite this the air hung damp and cold, dew making the grass of the forest thick and wet. He was reading the newspaper again, though he didn't know why, it only served in agitating him or causing unneeded reminders of the pain that throbbed at his core.

Sure enough, when he had woken up that morning to the sounds of birds and the sun casting a glow through the tent walls, he found a bruise on his arm from his night spent on the bus. He reminded himself not to get so tired again that he'd have to travel on that again anytime soon; his broom was far more comfortable, even in the cold autumn weather.

The Daily Prophet in his hands happened to be of the issue that the witches in the Leaky Cauldron had been reading, he almost choked and sprayed hot coffee over the inside of the tent when he unexpectedly found the article on his funeral. "Everywhere I go!" he muttered through gritted teeth, sick and tired of the media attention that apparently found him even in death. He scanned the article quickly and irritably, pausing suddenly at the date in which lay an unanticipated reality.

So soon? He thought, it was to be held next week, the last week of the month. But the suddenness and finality of it caught Harry off guard, he had not expected it to feel so…he could only describe as feeling as if he had lost a friend, and the curious voice in his mind told him to mourn that loss. After all, that treacherous little voice wheedled, after this there's no going back, it truly is the end of your past life, and don't you think it deserves a goodbye?

Harry threw the paper down on the table, narrowly missing his mug. "No. I can't go just out of some foolish fancy, my own stupid whims, it's not worth it." He said to himself, striding out of the tent as if to escape the voice. Isn't it? It would be easy, you could just sit at the back, it'll be crowded no-one will notice you, you can leave whenever you want, not every situation is as fraught with peril as you'd like to believe…This way it will be easier to accept it, that you will never go back…

"Shut up!" Harry stared into the forest, breathing heavily and realising that if he was conversing with voices inside his head, it was probably best to make a decision before he lost any shred of sanity he had left all together. In the green forest under the cold sun, Harry began to feel his resolve weaken.

Miles away

The Burrow was pretty much the meeting place of all those close friends who had gone through the war together. It was second home to more and more people everyday, hardly a week went by when Bill and Fleur weren't visiting from Shell Cottage, George wasn't trying to find new testers for his joke shop, Percy, Hermione, Neville and Luna dropped in from a day's hard work at the ministry, Hogwarts or editing the Quibbler. So it was no surprise to be sitting looking at the family clock when someone waddled past with a heavy pregnancy, pile of paperwork or some suspicious looking new inventions, who wasn't actually a resident there.

Currently Hermione was helping Ginny dig out some old robes the attic, avoiding the ghoul that still harboured the habit of wearing Ron's pyjamas, as Fleur sat bulging and maternal in a chair, watching and apologising for her inability to help.

"It's really fine, Fleur," said Hermione exasperatedly as she pulled aside a dusty mirror and found yet another box of various assorted muggle electrics that Arthur had accumulated over the years. "I have half a mind to just introduce your father to my parents already! Merlin knows it's better than him collecting all this rubbish."

Ginny made a noise of agreement, "I think you'd be doing us all a favour, mind you, once he got into their house he'd never leave-do you really want to do that to your parents?"

"'Ermione ees right, better than theese mess!" commented Fleur, pulling a remote control from beneath her, glancing at it curiously then throwing it aside.

There were creaks on the ladder and Molly Weasley appeared, Teddy squirming in her arms, "This just came for you Ginny dear, quite an official looking owl and it has the Gringotts insignia on it."

"Thanks mum," muttered Ginny, leaning across some boxes to take the proffered envelope, Molly turned to Fleur, "I've been having some thoughts about the nursery…"

"I'll come down," sighed the part-veela, heaving herself up and following Molly's head slowly and cautiously down the ladder, "You really shouldn't be climbing up and down ladders at this stage you know." Molly's voice drifted up to the attic followed by, "Grandma Weasley-put me down!" the whining voice of the four-year-old.

But this went unheard by Ginny, who had opened the letter and was staring at it,

"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly at the sudden change in Ginny's expression.

"It's from Gringotts, 'in regard to Mr Harry Potter's vault'" she quoted from the thick, official-looking letter, understanding dawned on Hermione's face. "Because it's all Teddy's now, and you're his guardian. I expect they just want to clear a few things up, you know, legal things and such," offered Hermione.

Ginny had gone quite quiet, "They've given me all the details of it-everything."

"Well, I suppose they give you the benefit of the doubt, you are responsible for it until Teddy comes of age, after all." Ginny handed the letter over to Hermione to read and went to sit down. "I guess it's just a bit of shock, his things actually being Teddy's now…" she explained.

Hermione made a low whistling noise from between her teeth, quite uncharacteristically, a habit she had probably picked up from Ron, "Have you seen the balance? I mean, I knew Harry was well off but…" Hermione suddenly snapped out of it, seeing Ginny's expression. What had she been thinking? Ginny didn't care about the balance, she had been horribly untactful, Hermione had definitely been picking up some things from Ron.

"I'm so sorry, that was completely insensitive…"

"No, no, it's fine," Ginny gave a wan smile, "I'm over it now, no reason to make a fuss about nothing, does it say anything else?"

Hermione scanned the letter, "Most of it's just common sense really, Teddy's not allowed to touch the money until he come of age, there's a list of-" Hermione cut short, staring hard at the letter with a puzzled look on her face. Ginny looked up, attention caught by her sudden stop.

"What?"

"Well, there's a list here, of-of any activity of the account recently, just to keep you updated I expect but-well…"

Ginny grew impatient, "Come on, what is it?"

"Well, for the last two years at least, there have been monthly transactions to the vault of someone called…Lysander Reubels."

"Why would…I've never even heard of a Lysander Reubels!"

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, "Well, the transaction could only have been set up by Harry before-he-he died, so it's clearly been going on for over four years," Hermione said thoughtfully, ignoring the way she had stumbled over the sentence.

"You don't have, I don't know, fraudin the wizarding world do you?" she asked sceptically.

"Gringotts is so secure, I don't see how. I mean, they actually carry the gold from vault to vault under guard."

"Well no, it can't be that then, this must be someone Harry knew, but why would he be giving them gold?"

"Maybe we should ask Ron, he might have some ideas."

Ron listened to their story with a strange mixture of suspicion, animated curiosity and interest and worry. That's excluding the wince of inner pain you saw cross his face whenever Harry was mentioned. "Let's look at the possibilities," he slipped automatically into auror mode. "Harry could've been friends with him."

"But why in the world would he never have mentioned him?" wondered Hermione, biting her lip worriedly, "You know he wasn't in contact with anyone before-before-" she took a deep breath again, it was harder to say than Voldemort's name, "before his death, he didn't ever leave the house!"

"Maybe…he's a relative…" Ginny looked at her hands and spoke quietly, pensive again,

"An unknown relative? Like what? His dad's uncle's cousin or something? Surely they would have to check that out before they decided all his belongings went to Teddy? The Ministry's very exact about stuff like that, nasty business a while back about Goblin property you see." This remark showed just how much Ron had grown over the years, he had commented on something Hermione didn't know for one thing.

"You don't think…" Hermione hesitated, reluctant to say it, "you don't think Harry was…in debt or anything?" They looked at each other uncomfortably, not really believing it could be a real possibility, Harry wasn't the kind of person who got into debt, if anything George was the gambler of them , and all he'd ever done was get into some trouble over some Leprechaun gold during school.

At this thought a possibility occurred to Ron, "You know how Harry gave his winnings of the Triwizard Tournament to finance the joke shop?" he did not need to elaborate, they all knew which joke shop he meant, just the day before George had asked if anyone had seen a box of fireworks lying around apparently a new product and a worrying prospect for the others.

"Go on," urged Ginny,

"Maybe it's something like that."

They looked at each hopefully, the idea that he was financing a business opportunity was certainly a lot more comforting than the thought of Harry being mixed up in something or having a relative they'd never heard of. They could feel the awful timing of it, the funeral not weeks away and this black cloud seemed to be rolling over his memory.

"I'll talk to Percy and Bill about it," suggested Ron. He knew that subconsciously, he wanted the funeral to finally tuck away every into a neat tidy finish. It was an impossible desire, when he knew that life didn't work that way, that you couldn't just let go of someone like that. Harry would always be with all of them, even if it would be easier to forget and not be reminded of him daily, was that what he really wanted?

No, even without this sudden mystery that dragged everything back into a painfully bright light, he wouldn't want that. Ron couldn't help but mull things over like this, staring into the distance, miles away from reality.

Schuikichiro: Yeah, I have considered this, (I know it s a big flaw in the story) but Ginny does kind of point out that they're not doing anything. Their big attempt to shift his depression was kind of to take him to the burrow and get him to snap out of it, it might not seem like much but, hey, you try dragging your friend from their house against their will and see if it's easy!

I wasn't really sure if I could put a psychiatrist in there because I don't know if there are wizard psychiatrists, and in world where there aren't stitches (book 5) can you blame me for being unsure?

I know it's not perfect, but I'm trying, also realised some other fatal flaws in the plausibility of this plot, I have thought of reasons for them but they're not explained in the fic! I won't point them out in the hope you don't notice:)

Wow, I blabber on a lot, but I like to talk about my train of though, sorry!