This story was written BEFORE the seventh Harry Potter Book came out so, Harry's seventh year is VERY different from his year in the book. Please enjoy reading and please leave helpful comments/ suggestions for future chapters. This story is still be processed to this very day, so look for a new chapter at least once a week!

Again, my parther and I sincirely hope you, the avid readers, will enjoy this... Remember: Insulting comments and/or "flames" will be ignored and ultimately deleted.

MELISSA AND GUINEVERE NOTE/UPDATE:

Melissa: Hello everyone, my sister and I sincirely apologize for the lack of updates! It was just a very trying time for us and our family. Dealing with two deaths in the family and very grueling schoolwork has drastically hindered BOTH of us from updating with new things.

Guinevere: But, we're back, baby! And after rereading this sucker, Missy and I both decided that all the four chapters we have up are going back to the shop for some MAJOR fine-tuning! So, we fine-tuned Chapter One- "Home Again" so, if you wanna read this story, we'll start you off with this chapter to placate everyone hopefully. But, we both wanna hear some comments from you readers and if you like our story or just need to ask some questions, just review and my sister and/or I will answer your questions ASAP!

Melissa and Guinevere: ENJOY and R&R!

Chapter One- "Home" Again

"Three of those who have scarcely yet to instigate their roles in the infinite ring of Life, shall be brought forward into this domineering planet that robs a mere babe of its innocence and leaves ye to become corrupted by the wicked darkness that surrounds ye. A magnificent event shall occur on one of the cold evenings of the tenth month, twelfth month and second month; when in retrospect, it is destined to occur only annually. When the ever-changing orb in the night sky, instead of its pearl colour, transforms into blue. The eldest, born on all Hallow's Eve, shall be fated to be the strongest of the three, and yet ye shall be the most vulnerable being. Ye shall be the individual that shall be most tempted to become corrupted; therefore ye shall constantly be raging war with the sinfulness that resides within ye soul. The middle; second to be brought into this horrid universe, ye shall wield the marvelous gift of healing. Ye shall be a graceful-dancing nymph of Winter. But heed these words, ye becomes fragiler when curing ailments and wounds. If ye care too much, ye could become entwined in the tangled web of Death, spun by the Grim Reaper himself. Ye shall be insecure about certain situations, leaving ye to be corrupted in these moments of weakness. The third; oh, how ye shall be potent with mighty Lightning. Ye are powerful when ye have an electrifying desire to protect ones ye have learned to cherish. Combined, three shall aid the All Powerful One, the Heavenly Angel of the Good, in the final battle of the war between Light and the Dark. But before this event can come forth, the reigning evil at the time shall seek out the gifted three and put upon them a curse that contains the three from reaching full use of their powers…"

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He laid there silently on the unmade bed, his emerald irises staring intensely at the colourless ceiling.

He tried counting the minute popcorn-like balls pasted up there, but he soon discovered that particular action very monotonous and pretty much a complete misuse of his time on his part.

Oh, how he longed to be spending the summer holiday with them.

He missed that homely abode where spotless dishes were haphazardly positioned in a lofty stack on the silver counters while the grubby tableware was jumbled into the small copper sink… The family's clothes strewn all over the wooden railing of the unsteady staircase…

The numerous siblings on their second-class broomsticks, participating in many affable and yet competitive games of Quidditch…

But he astonishingly didn't miss his male friend as much as her; not that he didn't miss him a lot, but there was something special about her.

He ached for her beautiful flaming scarlet strands, cascading in the subtle summer breeze… Her pastel cherry lips puckering slightly every time she…

He rapidly shook his head.

"I can't get her involved!" He steadfastly muttered to himself as he sat up against the wall behind his cot. "She'll just get murdered! I can't risk her life like that…" He ran his hands through his sable mane, groaning heavily. "I have absolutely no bloody idea about how I'm supposed to kill him…"

He slowly rose from the bed and lugged himself to the window by his writing table. He morosely gazed out the glass at the hushed darkness. The aged streetlights were gleaming bleakly whilst the stars in the shadowy sky were twinkling strongly.

He allowed a small smirk to form on his attractive face. There weren't too many times where he could just sit back, relax, and admire the sceneries of Mother Nature.

He grabbed the dilapidated chair that dwelled at his desk and situated it in front of the medium-sized windowpane. He eased his slender body into the chair and immediately rested his feet on the grimy window sill. Wrapping his well-built arms around his knees, he peacefully stared out at the night.

After a few moments, he stood from the chair and moved back to the desk.

Two letters rested in the middle of the surface, both sealed. He opened one with barely readable writing scribbled all over it. His emerald-tinted eyes scanned the parchment.

'Harry, how're you doing, mate? Everything's going as well as anticipated here. Dad's healing from his wounds. (I can't believe he got into a fistfight with Malfoy's father!) Bill and Fleur are still on their honeymoon, Fred and George are doing just great with their joke shop, (They still use me as their bloody test subject. Argh!) Charlie, I believe, is in Romania or Africa or somewhere exotic like that… Percy, nobody really cares about him. Ginny's still pretty quiet. (Thank God, she can be such a chatterbox at times!) But she's all right, mate!

We all miss you, mate! But maybe (probably not) we'll see each other before school starts.

See you soon!

From,

Ron

P.S. Happy 17th birthday, Harry! Here are some of your favourite candies: Some Bernie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, some Chocolate Frogs, and some Sugar Quills!'

The said treats sat cheerfully next to a tidily penned letter with a skillfully wrapped present for its cohort. Harry beamed at the gesture as his right hand grabbed a chocolate frog from the little mountain. He placed it down again as he selected the second letter and opened it.

"Dear Harry,

How are you doing? Have you done all of your assignments for the summer? I have. You know the assignment that Professor McGonagall gave us about the subject of transfiguring a person into a magical or nonmagical animal? Remember about the minimum length being at least three feet in order for the assignment to be considered acceptable? Well, I did about four feet and six inches for the assignment... I always get carried away with her assignments!

Anyway, don't let my rambling spoil the rest of your summer! How are you really, Harry? I've heard from Ron that you were still kind of emotional about Dumbledore's death. Don't blame yourself for his abrupt passing, blame that vile Voldemort.

Happy seventeenth birthday, Harry. I hope that you enjoy my gift and put it to good use!

From,

Hermione"

Harry gently placed his post back on the desk. A broad grin appeared on his face again as he eagerly clutched the rectangular-shaped box. He ripped enthusiastically through the gold wrapping paper and tossed it carelessly on the gray carpet. He opened the plain pallid box and beamed.

There, nestled at the base of the slender container, was a handsome-looking scarlet phoenix feather quill. At the tips of the stunning pen, vibrant splashes of luxurious gold adorned the fuzz. He cautiously took the writing instrument out of its crypt and held it delicately in his hand. The teenager stood there, appreciating the exquisiteness of its rare beauty for a few moments when a hollow thump startled him.

"It can't be the Dursleys… They're not supposed to come back until next week…" Harry muttered as he located the feathered pen back in its container. He tip-toed to his truck and unlocked it. The sable-haired male whipped out his wand and noiselessly shut the large suitcase. He stealthily hid in the mysterious shadows of the small room. After a few tense minutes, silence only echoed throughout the entire household.

Harry tersely lowered his weapon as he calmed down.

"Eh, it was probably my imagination, anyway." He mumbled to himself as he put the wand in his jean's pocket. "Anyway, back to the birthday issue...''

He pushed the chair back to its original place in front of the table and sat down. He pulled out a muggle hand calendar and flipped it open to July, glancing at the date where he marked an indication. It was a symbol of the day that his birthday presents had arrived.

Since he was in the middle of cleaning the house and doing his usual mundane chores when the packages arrived with the owls, he just grabbed a black ballpoint pen from his desk and just inked a star onto the date.

His face expression showed some form of mild surprise, and his eyebrows climbed up into the messy fringe of his hair.

'Hm… Hey, They sent them today! It's July 30th! Why would Ron and Hermione send me my gifts a day early?" He pondered to himself as he glanced at his watch.

"Eleven o' clock… Only one hour to go…" He muttered as he heard his stomach protest of hunger.

He rose, walked over to the closed door, and slowly pulled it open. He silently closed the door and traveled down the wooden stairs. He noticed that the bright lights of the kitchen were on, and he paused abruptly.

The Dursleys always turned off all the lights whenever they went on vacation and Harry was absolutely positive that he hadn't left any lights on. He warily crept forward as his hand crawled into his pocket and grasp his wand tightly. His ears picked up several voices from the kitchen's closed door, and he revealed his weapon. His emerald irises glistened as he neared the closed door. The whispering voices silenced suddenly as his hand grazed against the mahogany barrier.

"He's coming! Be quiet!" A shrill voice, definitely feminine, barked out.

The Boy-Who-Lived knew that voice, but couldn't decipher who its owner was. It wielded the similar bossiness that resided in Hermione's voice, but it had that certain maternal tone to like… Mrs. Weasley?

Harry quickly sucked in a shaky breath and shut his eyes as he pushed open the door.

"SURPRISE!"

His eyes snapped open as a strong hug made him stagger backwards with shock. He glanced down at a head of wavy, almost bushy-like, chocolate-coloured hair. He looked up and saw many red-heads, a vibrant magenta head, and a graying chestnut-tinted one.

"Wha…?" Harry croaked out as his frazzled mind tried valiantly to process what exactly was happening.

"Harry! Oh, it's so wonderful to see you!" Hermione surged positively as she let go of him. She beamed at him as a lanky teenager with flaming red hair sauntered up to Harry and enthusiastically shook his hand. Ron's smile grew as he engulfed his best friend into his matchless Weasley Bear Hug. The ebony-haired boy mentally shook himself out of his stunned stupor and a gigantic beam replaced the taken aback appearance on his defined face.

"Ah, I see that we have finally rendered the Boy Who Lived speechless, Gred!" George shouted to his look-alike brother, a smile comparable to a mad hatter's decorating his freckled face.

"At least for the moment, Forge!" Fred countered as the two guffawed boisterously.

"Now boys, be nice!" Molly Weasley reprimanded her sons as her balding husband positioned his right hand affectionately on her shoulder.

"Oh, Molly, let them be! Besides, this past year has been nothing but pain and sadness for us all. This is supposed to be a time for celebration!" Arthur Weasley grinned brightly at his wife of many years gazed fretfully at him.

"Speaking of pain; how is your arm, Love? It must be uncomfortable for you to hold it in that particular position…" Mrs. Weasley cooed as she fussed over his injured arm. He flashed a reassuring smile at her.

"Getting better every day…" She grinned shyly as she tenderly kissed his cheek. She turned her attention back to Harry.

"Oh, Harry, dear! How have you been? Have the Dursleys been treating you well?" Mrs. Weasley blubbered out as she trapped him into a motherly hug. Harry returned the hug as he struggled to reply to her questions.

"I'm all right, Mrs. Weasley. And… Um… The Dursleys went on an unexpected trip… to… ah… America, I believe, about a week ago; they won't arrive back here until… next Saturday…"

Mrs. Weasley abruptly unclasped her arms from Harry and vociferously gasped with motherly horror.

"They… left you here in this house… for a week… alone?!" Mrs. Weasley admonished as Harry regained his composure.

"Yeah." He confirmed quietly as the mother of seven's indigo eyes glistened forlornly and her freckled hands covered her mouth. Hermione's joyful demeanor sobered as Silence laid its coverlet over the various people in the room.

His palms began to perspire as he viewed the people staring disappointingly at him.

"Harry, mate, why didn't you write about this in your letters?" Ron's baritone voice shattered the silence of the room; he crossed his arms and stood up straight.

"I didn't believe it was important." He explained bashfully as a few tears escaped from Mrs. Weasley's eyes. Her husband fished out his aged handkerchief and gently wiped away his wife's tears. A terse quietness came over the room as the red-haired mother of seven let loose of her emotions. Hermione instinctively leaned into Ron's chest and he wrapped his muscular arms around her. He stared at Harry, his deep cobalt eyes asking unanswered questions.

"Hey, look at it this way…" A strong feminine voice rang throughout the kitchen. Ginny appeared in front of Harry, her long scarlet strands tied back into a simple ponytail. "At least we're here now! He no longer has to suffer in this cursed rat-hole!" She continued as she quickly grabbed a small ebony bag from the back pocket of her dark jeans.

"Yes, we're here now. Harry should go gather his things together; we didn't come here so we could scold Harry for keeping certain topics from us like the Dursleys leaving him here like so…" Remus Lupin sagely spoke as Tonks ineptly fiddled with her elegant pink waves.

"Ginny and Remus are correct!" Charlie Weasley agreed stridently as he rose from the chair that he was relaxing in. He flashed what he hoped was a reassuring grin at the Boy-Who-Lived. "Go get your things together, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived beamed excitedly as he shot out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into his room.

Ginny stood at her spot, absent-mindedly staring at the stairs that Harry had dashed up a few moments earlier.

She dropped the bag that she had cradled in her hands onto the tiled floor, emerald powder flowing all over the ground. Everyone in the room watched her as she climbed the stairs after Harry.

Harry threw his presents into his trunk as he tossed his tennis shoes onto his bed. He slammed the lid shut and perched on the cot.

Gentle knocks on his door startled him.

"Um… come in?" He nervously coughed out as calmed himself down.

The door slowly creaked open and Ginny shyly stepped into the room. His heart rate quickened as his lips tried to form words. The girl blushed and gazed down at the carpeted floor, her bangs falling in front of her radiant chocolate irises. Oh, how he secretly wished to smooth back those bangs and then kiss those lips.

He subtly shook his head; he jumped a little bit as he felt the bed sink and her soft voice whispered.

"So, how are you?" She glanced at him as he put his shoes on.

"All right." He roughly grunted out as he stood and moved to where his trunk was.

He tried to lift the large suitcase, but he couldn't shoulder that weight alone.

He lugged the trunk out to the hallway.

He suddenly felt the weight lighten considerably and he quickly figured out why. Ginny was lifting the other end; she was helping him after he broke up with her. She grinned tentatively at him and his face brightened.

They eventually conquered the stairs and stumbled back into the kitchen, where everyone was patiently waiting for the two teenagers.

Harry and Ginny dropped the trunk and grinned shyly at each other.

Charlie quickly whipped out his wand and shrunk the boy's suitcase. Harry bent down and put the now almost microscopic object into his pocket as the Weasley nonchalantly placed his wand back into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Harry, are you ready to leave this damned rat-hole?" Tonks asked, gaining an irritated glare from Mrs. Weasley and a disapproving look from Remus. She glared evenly back at Remus, her long fingers twirling one of her now straight auburn strands. "What? It's one of the only words I can use to describe this sodding place!" She exclaimed defensively as Mrs. Weasley threw her arms out to the side.

"But, we have children in this room!" Her outburst earned chuckles from the younger inhabitants of the kitchen. Ron shook his head as he wrapped his gangly arm around Hermione's small waist. The bushy-haired brunette smiled brightly and leant into Ron's side, her spicy cinnamon irises twinkling with humor at the mother.

"Mrs. Weasley, none of us are exactly children anymore… I'm going to be eighteen soon… Your son is going to turn eighteen in February, Harry's going to turn seventeen at midnight, and Ginny is almost sixteen…" Hermione jovially reasoned as Ginny shook her head. The aging mother of seven flushed darkly as Tonks smirked.

"So, ready Harry?" Tonks queried again.

Harry eagerly nodded his head.

"Good!" She muttered loudly as everyone started to walk out of the kitchen. Harry began following them but then he stopped. Ginny paused too and she looked at the Boy Who Lived with a confused glint in her brown eyes.

"Harry… What's the matter?" She questioned as Harry moved to one of the spotless counters. She cautiously trailed behind him and watched him pulled out a piece of paper and a ball point pen. "Harry, what are you doing?" The pretty red-head asked again; Harry looked up at her.

"I just want to say good-bye…" He said quietly.

Ginny's face morphed into one of disbelief and confusion.

"Why? These people treated you horridly for the last sixteen years!? Why on earth do you want to say good-bye?" Her usually well-modulated voice crept an octave higher as she flung out her freckled arms to emphasize her point.

Harry positioned the writing instrument in his right hand and scribbled the date at the top right corner of the crisp parchment. His verdant eyes glanced at his former girlfriend and smirked subtly.

"Gin, I can't just up and leave. Even if the Dursleys did treat me badly, they still gave me a roof over my head. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't tell them good-bye… I won't take long…" He explained as he started penning the note to the people he had housed with for the last sixteen years.

'July 30th, 1997

Dear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia,

Well, what can I say? I'm turning seventeen in less than an hour. I'm finally leaving this house for good. But, I wanted to thank you for what you done for me, although that's not a lot… Thanks for letting me live in this place and feeding me… But I wonder, Aunt Petunia… You hated my mother, Lily Evans Potter… Why did you take me in? You must have known that I was magic. Why? You don't have to answer that.

Anyway, goodbye… And thanks for caring for me, even though you knew the dangers…

Harry Potter'

Harry signed his name quickly and folded the hastily written note. He put the pad of paper and the black pen to the official places that they lived. He picked the note up and turned around. He was a bit startled as he saw Ginny casually leaning against one of the counters and staring kindly at him. She flashed a smile and he blushed subtly. He grinned back as he dropped the note on the wood dining table. Ginny gradually walked to him and silently pulled him into a hug. Harry stiffened for a second and then relaxed. He lovingly coiled his muscular arms around her. They embraced for a few minutes and then Ginny pulled away. She cupped his face and kissed his forehead, right where the scar was. He laughed quietly and blushed darkly. The woman looked into his eyes.

"Remember Harry; don't shut your friends out… We want to help you, especially with what's happening…" Ginny whispered sagely as she held his hand. Harry solemnly nodded as he squeezed her fingers gently. They reluctantly let go and trekked out of the kitchen.

They walked to the large group of people, who was lolling inside the living room, right by the large marble fireplace. Mrs. Weasley clutched the ebony sack that her youngest child had dropped earlier, its mouth agape. Charlie walked up first, grabbing a large fistful of the glittery powder as he stepped inside the fireplace. He stood up straight and cleared his throat loudly.

"The Burrow!" He suddenly disappeared in a puff of green smoke. The twins each grasped a handful of the sand and charged into the white portal. They shouted the same words that their older brother had and they too vanished with a misty cloud of smog. Mrs. Weasley looked expectantly at Harry and extended the open bag at him.

His fingers captured some of the fine dust and he moved into the fireplace. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. His eyes snapped open as his closed fist rose slightly.

"The Burrow!" He recited as he quickly dropped the powder and he vanished in smoke.

Harry dizzily stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing softly. He looked around the room.

A shabby rug was glued to the creaky wood floor. An old couch perched to the left of the small fireplace. Behind it, two medium-sized windows draped with ratty gold curtains. Pictures of many red-haired people adorned the aging walls.

A broad smile appeared on his face.

He was home again.