A/N: Sorry if this is the shortest chapter in the history of the universe, but I was in a crunch for time. I wanted to get this chapter out in time for my friend's birthday. Happy birthday, Heidi! I love you, girl.

DISCLAIMER: Naturally, I don't own Harry Potter. And if I did, why the hell would I sit around writing fanfiction all day?

Chapter Four – Coming Clean

A week passed, and Harry stalled. It was time to leave soon, he knew, but he didn't want to. He was enjoying himself far too much at the Weasley's. It was easy, it simple, and it felt like home. When he was at the Weasley's he didn't have a care in the world other than what book was next on his reading list, or how to beat Ron at Wizard's Chess. But he knew that he was procrastinating, and that he would have to leave eventually. One afternoon, Harry pulled Ron aside after lunch.

"We need to talk to your family," he stated.

Ron nodded earnestly, glancing around for any on-lookers.

"I've been getting too comfortable here," Harry continued. "But I have a responsibility, and if you and Hermione insist on coming with me, then you really need to tell your parents what's going on."

"Alright mate, we'll tell them tonight after dinner," Ron tried to speak nonchalantly, but could not hide the fear in his voice.

"I'd try to console your fears if I were any good at it," said Harry, a boyish grin on his face, trying to lighten the mood.

"That, Harry, is definitely not one of your strengths. You're one the most depressing people I know!"

"I suppose you could call a bit of a pessimist," Harry said ponderously.

"Harry," Ron began, "I think that may just be the understatement of the century."

"Um, mum…" Ron began at dinner that evening.

"Yes, Ronald? Could you pass the butter, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked quaintly, not understanding the enormity of the conversation to follow.

"Yes, mother," Ron mumbled as he passed it. "So I kind of wanted to talk about something," Ron started again.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked casually.

"Um, well, you see, the thing is…" Ron couldn't manage a coherent sentence.

"The thing is, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione began confidently, "that Ron and I here have decided we're not going back to school. Because we're going to help Harry."

Harry could feel eyes on him from all around the table.

"What does Harry need help with?" Arthur asked delicately, with a cool edge.

Harry shot a glance at Ron, who looked as though he was going to slip up.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed exasperatedly, "We can tell them! You know we can trust my family."

"Of course I know that, Ron. I don't want to tell them for their protection. You can understand that, can't you?"

Molly spoke forcefully, "Now what's this you're getting on about? There is no way I will accept this, Ronald. And Hermione! I expected more from you."

Hermione blushed crimson, but Ron looked furious.

"Mum!" he exploded. "I'm of age! You can't tell me what to do anymore!"

Mr. Weasley spoke up, "We can while you're still living in out house!"

"Well, that's the thing, then, isn't it? Because I'm not staying here much longer. We have things to do."

"What things, Ronald?" Molly shouted.

Ron remained silent and sulky.

Hermione spoke, "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, please just listen for a moment. We can't tell you what it is we have to do, you have to trust us. It's for your safety. What we need to do is imperative for winning the war. That's all you really need to know. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's something we've got to do. And we need to help Harry with it, even if he doesn't want us to go," she turned to face him for a moment, "You know you can't do it alone, Harry."

"I know," Harry spoke, defeated.

Ginny looked appalled. "Harry James Potter! How can you let this be! So you're giving in on letting them come, but not me? Do you honestly think I can't defend myself?" She got up from the table and stormed off.

Harry followed. "Ginny, you know that's not what I-"

She slammed her bedroom door in his face.

Harry sighed and knocked on the door, knowing he wouldn't get a response anyway. He made his way back to the kitchen table, all eyes on him.

Arthur made a clucking noise with his tongue. "I'd have thought you'd have learned by now not to make a Weasley woman mad. She'll be in a right state for weeks, now."

"I haven't got weeks," Harry spoke sadly. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

A/N: W00T for forboding angst-like tendancies. Expect more to come. ;-) Reviews make me happy.