Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, because that isn't what my birth certificate says. Wait…yes, it does! Oh, no…It just says criminally insane…

To All R.A.B. Reviewers: Glad to know I'm not alone in the conspiracy! And I hope I didn't sound like a prat when I said my theory. I'll just call it THE theory, okay? I feel guilty trying to claim it…

To All Reviewers: Thank you so much! I am honored by your words!

Chapter Three

Another Will, Another Won't

After a week at the Burrow, Harry was becoming anxious. Letters from Hogwarts were due any day. If they didn't come, then Hogwarts had closed, one of the last safe havens, gone. But if the letters did come, he'd have to announce his decision to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with the Order. He was sure that none of them would allow it, even though he was of age. And once he took his Apparition test in a few days, there was no stopping him from his quest with the Horcruxes.

It was close to midnight, but Harry found he couldn't sleep. Instead, he'd taken a stroll through the garden. After sending three gnomes flying through the air, he'd decided it was best to go inside. Some voices in the kitchen stopped him from entering.

"He said he's not going to return to Hogwarts. He's going after those things instead," Mrs. Weasley was saying. Obviously, Ron or Hermione had talked to her.

"And legally he can. None of us can stop him," Remus Lupin answered.

"Yes, but you have the most influence over him," Mrs. Weasley pleaded. "At least talk to him, for our sake?"

"No harm in that," Mr. Weasley spoke up. "And blimey, look at the time! Molly, we should get back to bed."

There was some shuffling and scraping of chairs. Harry strained his ears, hoping that anyone that had been in the kitchen had left. Just in case, he stepped back slowly, and lightly kicked one of the clay gardening pots. Anyone in the kitchen would know that someone was outside now. He stepped in. Lupin was sitting at the table alone, nursing a cup of tea.

"Hello Harry. I daresay you heard some of that," he smiled at Harry's surprised face. He tapped his ears. "Werewolf hearing can come in handy. Sit down."

Harry did as he was told, and sighed. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

"I was afraid of that. Why?"

"Before Dumbledore…before…We were searching for the Horcruxes that Voldemort put his soul into. I'm going to find the rest and destroy them," he said quickly.

"Harry, that sounds fine and honorable in words, but how much have you really thought about it?" He coughed and cleared his throat. "Do you know how to find the Horcruxes? Destroy them?"

Harry just shook his head. It was amazing how childlike his idea sounded when he heard someone else say it.

"And you know how much destroying one hurt Dumbledore. And you haven't even finished your schooling. How will you become an Auror if you give up now for some reckless adventure? All that I'm asking is that you finish school so that you at least have a chance. Please."

He stared at his hands, thinking about what Lupin was saying. It made sense. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts if he didn't go this year. He'd miss out on more advanced spells that could help him when he faced Voldemort. And Snape. Another thought came to him. Ron and Hermione wouldn't go back if he didn't. It wasn't fair to them. Hermione was a shoe-in for Head Girl, and Ron was becoming a really good Quidditch player. At Dumbledore's funeral, they had promised to go with him. His rash decisions would effect them. He couldn't do that to his best friends.

"I'll go back," he said quietly. Lupin seemed to choke on his tea, his eyes wide with surprise. Of all the answers he'd expected, that wasn't it. Harry couldn't help but laugh. A squeal from the stairway told him that Mrs. Weasley had been listening. She ran down and hugged Harry.

"Oh, Harry, you should get to bed," she said, regaining her composure. As he trudged up the stairs, he heard her talking to Lupin.

"Remus, what did you do? Oh, I'm so happy!" But Harry stopped listening. He was outside Ron's bedroom, and there were voices whispering inside.

"Hermione, I think Harry found out what we're doing," Ron said. The light streaming from beneath the door darkened, and Harry stood back, in case someone was coming out. He heard someone whisper a spell, and the doorknob glowed for a moment. Obviously, Hermione didn't want anyone intruding.

"How does he know? What did he say?" she demanded.

"Well, after Bill and Fleur's wedding--OUCH! Pig, you--after the wedding, he asked me if something was going on."

"You didn't let anything slip, did you?"

"Of course not!" Harry could practically see Ron's ears reddening. "Pretended to fall asleep."

"And I'm sure he didn't find that unusual," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Course not. It's worked before." Not very well, Harry thought on the landing. "And, hey, what's that?"

Harry shrank away from the door, in case they were talking about him. "Looks like an owl."

"Odd, a bit early for the post to come." He heard the window creak open. "It's a Hogwarts owl!"

"Why's there only one?"

"I dunno…It's addressed to Harry! And it looks like it's from Dumbledore!"

"You'll have to give it to him," Hermione said, her voice quiet.

"And you have to get out of here. What would he think, seeing you here?" before Harry could react, the knob started turning. Before he could hide, the door swung open completely, and he was looking into the startled faces of his two friends.

"Oh! Hi Harry! Just picking up the book that Ron borrowed from me," Hermione stammered. She looked around, and picked up the first book she saw. "Thanks Ron!" She ran down the stairs, but not before he caught how red her face was.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, grinning. Ron looked as if he'd seen a spider.

"She was getting her book," he said feebly. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"At one A.M.?"

"Yeah, you know, she's always reading. Reading, reading, reading. But, um, this came for you," Ron said hurriedly, changing the subject. He handed out a small letter.

Carefully opening it, he read over the writing. He couldn't recognize it, but one word stuck out. Dumbledore.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked, climbing next to Harry.

"It's about Dumbledore. It's part of his will," he said, shocked. "It says, I get that sword I got, Godric's. And his Pensieve." Harry stopped. His voice was cracking, and it was getting hard to read, even though he had his glasses on. He took a deep breath. "It asks where I went them sent."

"Not her, surely," Ron said. "Mum would freak if she came in here to clean and a sword was waiting for her."

"Sirius's house then," Harry said, almost to himself. "There's tons of things there. That's where I'll keep things that I don't use."

"Sure?" Ron asked, a quill in hand. He nodded, and Ron wrote down the address. After sending the owl out the window, he turned to Harry with a grin.

"You should get some sleep. You look like a troll." Harry threw a pillow at him, and the two started smacking each other with the pillows. After Harry lost and tried to get to sleep, he realized that he could have used magic now that he was seventeen. As he lay there, he realized for the first time how different his life was. He could finally practice magic outside of Hogwarts with no real consequences. He remembered Fred and George making fun of him and Ron the summer before, being unable to use their magic. Next time he saw the twins, it was going to be very interesting.

Luna's Quiz: What is the name of Dumbledore's brother, and why was he ridiculed?

10 digital kudos to anyone that gets it right!