Author's Note: I'm fully aware that to those of you who read the earlier version of this, there haven't been very many changes so far. I have made a few edits and expansions to the original, but the first half of "Falls the Shadow" in essence is very similar to the original draft. It's the second half where the biggest revisions take place, particularly to the Harry narrative. The Ginny narrative has a few expansions, but otherwise is mostly the same.

Chapter Four
The Dark and Winding Path

"He caught up with his cohorts at the River Rubicon, which was the boundary of his province, where he paused for a while, thinking over the magnitude of what he was planning, then turning to his closer companions, he said: 'Even now we can still turn back. But once we have crossed that little bridge, everything must be decided by arms.'

"Then said Caesar: 'Let us go where the gods have shown us the way and where the injustice of our enemies calls us. The die is cast.'"

—Suetonius, The Lives of the Caesars

"The prophecy does not mean you have to do anything," Albus Dumbledore firmly told him. "But it caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal. In other words, you are free to turn your back on the prophecy. But Voldemort continues to set store by it. He will continue to hunt you. That makes it certain, really, that"—

—"That one of us is going to end up killing the other, yes," Harry said quietly.

"Exactly. You ask how you can successfully destroy Voldemort with all his skill and all his weapons? I tell you now that your best chance is if you decide the terms of your confrontation. You cannot do so if you run all your life."

Harry stood and turned away, considering all that had been said. "So take action?" he asked. "Stop hiding behind others' protection?"

Dumbledore was silent for a few minutes, and Harry turned back around to face him, just as he slowly and solemnly nodded. "The time for that has passed," he said, surprising Harry. "One day, not so far in the future, you must hunt the hunter. Voldemort fears that moment. Do this, and you will be the one facing him with resolve, and Voldemort with dread. It may make all the difference to the outcome. That is why I have told you about the Horcruxes, and no one else." As he spoke, Dumbledore's earlier exhaustion suddenly transformed into an intense, determined demeanour that Harry had rarely seen in the headmaster, that he hadn't truly seen since Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. "To hunt the Horcruxes is to hunt Voldemort. Once you begin, there will be no turning back. It will, one day, be your task to destroy him a piece at a time. I will assist you for as long as I am able, but ultimately the destruction of Lord Voldemort will be down to you."

"And the Order isn't to know about this?" asked Harry. "Or anyone else?"

"I have allowed you to tell Mr Weasley and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "and in time, who you confide in may be at your own discretion. But for now, I ask that you tell no one else. It is vital, Harry, that you understand the importance of keeping the most dangerous secrets within confined circles. The Order will have their own role to play, but in matters as crucial as this, they are too exposed, too easily watched. For Voldemort to learn that you or I know about the Horcruxes would be disastrous. It would only take one betrayal, one captured person breaking either to torture or to Legilimency, one person spotted in the wrong place, one word in the wrong place. You cannot risk it. Even if you lose the trust of those you care about, you cannot risk it."

Harry swallowed. The enormity of his task now seemed impossibly greater, but in the end he could do nothing except embrace his fate, and tell Dumbledore, "I understand."

There were only four days between Bill's wedding and Harry's birthday; during that time, the atmosphere at Grimmauld Place and at the Burrow grew quieter, but it was impossible to enjoy it. Two months earlier, the Horcrux hunt had seemed both close and distant, ages away; now it was imminent. Now the Rubicon was in sight, and Harry knew full well that if and when he crossed it, there would be no turning back. His world and his life would be very different. With the wedding out of the way, and the couple on their honeymoon, Harry had half-expected the Order to impose his earlier restrictions, but to his relief, Molly appeared to have taken Fleur's side on that matter, seemingly persuaded either out of fear of her new daughter-in-law's wraton, or from seeing Harry's increased happiness. As a result, Harry was still permitted to visit the Burrow for a few hours every day, as long as either Molly or Arthur were there, and Mad-Eye or Kingsley were briefed on it first.

As the time drew nearer, Harry became nervous about the mode of their departure, having heard little from Hermione on the matter since their brief conversation before the wedding, except that she believed she was close. However, the day before Harry's birthday, she finally made a breakthrough, and Harry luckily happened to be visiting the Burrow at the time, playing with Exploding Snap cards in the lounge with Ron and Ginny.

"Okay, I'll put in a Knut," Ron declared as Hermione appeared in the room. "Up the ante a tad."

"You think you're going to win this round before it explodes?" asked Harry incredulously.

"There's no way that's happening," said Ginny. "The last blast was two minutes into the game. It's been building tension for too long. It's gonna give."

"Afraid to lose?" Ron challenged her.

"Nope, she countered. "I'm not even going to bother folding. But I am going to take a few steps back." She placed her cards face-down on the floor and edged away.

Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt, but she didn't get a single syllable out before Molly entered the room herself.

"Harry, dear, I almost forgot to ask what you want for your dinner tomorrow."

"Anything would be fine with me. I'm not fussed about it," Harry said, his eyes still fixed on his cards. Ron muttered something about Harry disinterest being unnatural.

"I know, dear, but for my sake?" asked Molly, ignoring her son.

Harry vaguely said something about chicken and potatoes, leaving Molly to return to the kitchen, forced to be satisfied with that much instruction. It was at that moment that Harry saw Hermione hovering nearby anxiously, seemingly trying to subtly draw their attention. Ron, whose back was to Hermione, was still fixed on the game.

"I'm telling you, it's gonna give," Ginny said warningly to Ron.

"At least it's making the afternoon a damn sight more interesting than that Petanick game Fleur's dad was always trying to get us to play," Ron shot back.

Harry noticed the corner of one of his cards starting to smoke. Like Ginny, he hastily put his hand on the floor and began moving back a little. Ron smirked and looked back at his own hand.

"Right," he said determinedly. "I'm feeling very lucky."

He drew a card. The stack instantly exploded, singeing his face and hair.

"I think Lady Luck's being a bit of a bitch," Ginny dryly remarked, before looking at Hermione. "What's up?"

Ron, seeing Hermione for the first time, also looked at her questioningly. The latter glanced in the direction of the kitchen, then looked at Ginny with an almost pleading expression. The others immediately understood. "Do what you've got to do," Ginny said in an undertone. "I'll tell her Ron went off to fix his eyebrows after that round."

"Brilliant," Ron said, as he and Harry stood to follow Hermione out. Then he suddenly looked at his sister sharply. "Wait, do I still have my eyebrows?"

Ginny was already in the kitchen, however, and Hermione already was out the front door. Harry glanced at Ron (who was feeling his brow ridge gingerly), and then the pair of them followed her outside. Hermione said nothing to them for a few minutes, simply leading them out into the back garden and then around the perimeter near the wards, until they entered the apple orchard. Once they were a short distance within, and the house somewhat obscured from their view, Hermione stopped, and held out her hand, showing them three of the cheap aluminium rings she'd swiped from the wedding decorations.

Ron and Harry looked at the rings, then back at Hermione, nonplussed, and Ron finally said wryly, "Er, not to be insensitive, Hermione, but we're too young to marry, normally the boy proposes, and I don't think a threesome can legally marry in England."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione snapped. "They're the finished Portkey rings. I've enchanted them so you have to specifically put them on in order to activate them."

Harry took one of the offered rings, turning it over in his fingers with interest. "Dumbledore's instructions?"

Hermione nodded. "And they are on his recommended conduits. The Ministry shouldn't be able to detect this test, and nor should the Order."

"Test?" Ron repeated. "Where are these going to take us?"

"To you room," she told him. "I've already made small tests with these, you know, transporting myself across a room, the like. I think we're ready to try out a full test, however."

She then handed a ring to Ron, and slipped the remaining ring onto her middle finger. There was a flash of blue light, and Hermione vanished. Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry hesitantly put one of the rings on. Just as with a normal Portkey, he felt a jerk somewhere behind his naval, and his feet left the ground in a rush of wind and whirling colours. Then his feet slammed into a hard wood floor, and he staggered forward in a room full of orange Chudley Cannon posters. He only just had enough time to get his bearings before there was another flash of blue, and something heavy slammed into him, knocking him to the floor.

"OUCH! Watch it, Weasley!"

Ron only groaned, clutching his head (which he appeared to have smacked against the bedpost). Harry grunted and shoved Ron off of him, and clambered to his feet, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. Hermione was standing nearby, beaming at them.

"Good to know they work," Harry said, "but next time, could you put a couple of feet between landing points?"

Hermione, too pleased with herself to respond to this, only said, "Come on, this means we can leave any time after you get your Apparation license. It's all in hand!"

Ron clambered to his feet, still clutching his head, and handed his ring back to Hermione. "So where are we going first?" he asked.

"I'm thinking about it," she answered. "Somewhere safe, of course, and where the Order won't think to look. I've got a couple of ideas. Just give me a day. I'll have the rings ready by the time you two are."

Harry too handed back his ring. For a moment the three of them only stood there, staring at each other. Then Harry took a deep breath, and said in as calm a voice as he could, "I guess I'll start packing tonight, then."

"You'll have to get your stuff here without Mum spotting you," Ron said.

"Oh, that's easy enough," Hermione said. "I'll put an Internal Extension Charm on your rucksacks tonight. You could invite us over for dinner, and I'll take care of yours before coming back."

"What, does it make them bigger on the inside, or something?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded. "As well as lightweight. You should be able to take everything."

Ron smirked at her. "So you can take your library, then?"

Hermione smacked his arm playfully.

"Sounds good," Harry said. "We'll have to make sure Mad-Eye's not there, of course."

"I'm not sure I want to take Pig, though," Ron said thoughtfully. "Maybe Fred and George could find him useful. Any way we can send him over to them without the Order noticing?"

Hermione nodded. "Leave that to me." She looked at Harry. "What about Hedwig? Do you want to leave her too?"

Harry shook his head. He'd considered leaving her with Ginny, but somehow the thought of parting from his owl was too much for him to bear. Hedwig had always been his closest link with the Wizarding World when he was at the Dursleys', and he didn't want to lose that link now. "I don't know how we're going to get her over here, though," he admitted.

They were quiet, thinking about that. Then Ron suggested, "Bring her over tomorrow. Tell Mum that she needs to stretch her wings, or something. It's as good an explanation as any."

Harry nodded, and they fell silent. It was an odd moment. They seemed to have everything in hand. All that remained now was the Apparation license.

"This is what we're thinking of using," Grobschmied said, handing over a manilla envelope. "At least temporarily, until someplace better suited is found."

Cerdik Gadlak opened it and pulled out a pile of photographs. For the next few seconds, he looked them over, one by one, and then back at his colleague. "Your sister's old house, if I'm not mistaken."

"You're not," Grobschmied replied. "It's Rok's property now, but neither he nor his sister have lived there since they were children. It's a bit out of the way, too, separated from the rest of Aelyn Dionn by about a quarter mile of woods. The rest of the village… they don't like to go there. Nobody's keen on renting it."

"So nobody's lived there for what, years?"

"Decades. Not since Cordelia and Dagolar died."

"I see." Gadlak put the photos back in the envelope and handed it back to Grobschmied. "It will need to be fixed up a bit."

"I know."

"And I'd say it could work for a couple of weeks," Gadlak continued. "Maybe longer if you put in the appropriate concealment spells; but I don't imagine you'd have any more than a month before someone in the village notices anything."

"No," Grobschmied agreed. "In fact, I'd rather hoped you could provide something more permanent."

Gadlak leaned back in his chair with an impassive expression. "You think I've got some secret castle hidden up my sleeve? Or do you think I have access to the fabled Dhárdin di Ginbaingh?"

Grobschmied snorted. "Do you know, while I was in Germany during the final weeks of the war, I met quite a few Koboldic goblins who insisted that Tylwthteg's supposed secret island chain was completely real. Even met a Tylwthteg volunteer who claimed to be from the archipelago, although he was hunted down and murdered by Grindelwald's followers not too long after he made that claim, so I couldn't have followed up even if I had believed him."

"Yes, well…" Gadlak shrugged. "People will start to latch onto all kinds of beliefs when things are looking desperate, and if there's a human wizard running the German Ministry of Magic who's actively trying to utterly exterminate your species, I can see why some began fantasising about finding refuge in a safe haven of which human wizards know nothing, even if it is nothing more than a fairy tale."

Grobschmied grimaced and shook his head sadly, before he continued, "To get to the point, I realise that your properties are mostly on public record"—

"'Mostly' being the key word," Gadlak quietly interrupted. "There are some that the Ministry does not know about; however, there is no real estate I own that the Lord Chairman is not unaware of, and I cannot afford to assume he'd support this. Not just yet, anyway."

"I see." Grobschmied sighed. "Either way, at the present moment, your existing properties cannot safely be put to this kind of use."

"So you're hoping I could purchase something," Gadlak surmised.

"I know it's no small thing to ask"—

Gadlak remained expressionless, but after a moment, he said, "I know plenty of my employees think I could probably purchase Buckingham Palace if I really wanted to"—

"Assuming the Ministry of Magic would let you get away with it," Grobschmied said with an amused smirk.

"But it's not as simple as you're suggesting, and you know it," Gadlak continued, as though there had been no interruption. "Benedict, you've been in the business for decades, you know how this works. I may be the richest goblin in England, but as you know, most of my net worth is in investments and properties, not in cash. Finding something suitable that I can purchase with my available cash is rather a tall order, and I can't sell investments or real estate on a large enough scale to buy a new property, not without drawing notice either from Danduaith or the Ministry of Magic. I'm too closely scrutinised by both. If you want this venture to remain secret, and to go without a hitch, then you don't want either to think I'm up to something, and not just because of unwanted attention from the Sixteen or from Rufus Scrimgeour."

Grobschmied could only grimace, knowing full well what he was referring to. These days it was safest to assume that anything the Ministry of Magic knew, the Death Eaters potentially also knew; similarly, there were elements of goblin society who were almost as dangerous as the Death Eaters, and who almost certainly had allies in the High Council, and so likewise it was best to assume that whatever the Sixteen knew, theyknew. Grobschmied understood full well that these extremists could make life very difficult for him and for Gadlak if they caught wind of their actions, but their potential response were nothing next to the potential consequences should Lord Voldemort learn about any of it.

"I could make some discreet inquiries," Gadlak said slowly, "but what happens from there depends upon what I find. I can promise nothing more for the time being."

"I see," Grobschmied said, slightly disappointed. "I suppose I'll have to explore other options, then. But thank you for that much."

For a long time, both goblins sat in contemplative silence. Finally, Gadlak asked, "How are things with our friend Mr Potter?"

"He has yet to make a significant move."

"That is assuming he ever does," Gadlak said. "If he chooses to work from within the Order of the Phoenix—assuming you're right about all of this, of course—then secretly getting into contact with him might never happen. What do you intend to do then?"

Grobschmied sighed. "Proceed, of course. Do what I can with what information I have. Reckless as this endeavour is, you and I know it's more than ludicrously dangerous: it is necessary. To proceed could potentially result in the utter ruination of all we hold dear, but to walk away makes that potential an eventual certainty. Of course, it would be far more likely to come off if Mr Potter were involved, otherwise I wouldn't bother with any of this."

"And if you do get in touch with him? What little I've heard of him tells me he's not the most trusting sort. How will you convince him?"

Grobschmied looked at Gadlak earnestly. "Honestly, I think there's only one way to approach him, and that's by telling him the truth."

Gadlak raised an eyebrow. "All of it? The whole history?"

"Everything."

Gadlak stared at Grobschmied for a full minute, amazed at his willingness to entrust a human teenager with that information. But then he nodded in acceptance. "Yes, I suppose you're right. If you're going to gain his trust, you'll have to be completely open with him. But let's hope Mr Potter sees it that way."

"Oh, I think he will," Grobschmied said firmly. "He'll have no choice."

They looked so happy. That was Harry's first thought as he stared at the photograph on the first page. She was laughing ecstatically, her face full of joy, while he had wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing his hands on her swollen belly and nuzzling her neck affectionately. He knew from the date that the photo had been taken only a couple of months before his birth. The picture on the next page showed Lily Potter in St. Mungo's with her new-born infant in her arms, her expression soft, so full of love, an expression Harry had no real memory of seeing directed at him, except perhaps in Molly Weasley on the rare occasion when, while in her company, he found himself in a state of vulnerability. The thought of Molly, the closest he'd had to a mother for as long as he could remember, made it all even harder.

A lump lodge itself in his throat as he slowly closed the photo album and placed it inside his rucksack; he'd used the past hour to pack everything he thought he might need, his room only lit with a single candle, all while keeping a very close ear out for any footsteps in the hall outside. Even though Hermione had placed a Silencing spell on his room before leaving for the Burrow, Harry had worked as quietly as he could, not wanting to risk drawing any attention to himself. Before he started, he'd also made sure that Mad-Eye had gone home, and that Dobby was preoccupied with cleaning the kitchen. The fact that his rucksack had been enchanted to expand to fit any load meant that he could work more quickly; it was now merely a matter of transferring items from his trunk to his bag. He'd decided to leave behind his old school uniforms and a few textbooks, and even Hedwig's cage; he knew she'd stick by him once he departed, and he himself saw no real need for it. However, his Muggle clothes, his cauldron, a few books he thought potentially useful or necessary, his potion-making kit, his Firebolt, his Broomstick Servicing Kit, and the box Dumbledore had left hi, had all been quietly transferred to his bag; he'd also packed a shoe box in which he'd stored a stack of old letters, including Dumbledore's and Ginny's, as well as R.A.B.'S locket and note, his own notebooks, and a bunch of ball-point pens he'd taken from the Dursleys' house. Because this form of magically-enhanced packing didn't necessarily require him to keep things compact, the task was over in only about ten minutes. Moreover, there had been no interruption, and he could still vaguely hear Dobby puttering around downstairs. That, and the fact that Mad-Eye or one of the Order hadn't unexpectedly pushed their way in, indicated that he'd managed this task unnoticed.

When Harry finished looking through the photo album, and had secured it inside his rucksack, he glanced at the door and again thought of the Weasleys, the family he was leaving. He felt a guilty twinge as he thought of what their imminent disappearance would do to Molly. That train of thought led him to wonder what he'd be eating and where he'd be sleeping tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, clear until the moment either he or Voldemort lay dead. It was his last night in comfort and relative security, his last night as a mere Hogwarts student. Harry sat at his desk, and thinking of the Weasleys again, he gave himself one final task before the Apparation exam: he'd give no hint of his imminent departure, but he wouldn't depart without a word. He therefore pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill and ink bottle, took a deep breath, and began to write.

He did so until well into the night, occasionally scratching out a sentence, or else crumpling up a sheet of paper and flinging it into a corner, until finally, at about two in the morning, Harry folded up the two letters. Perched next to him, Hedwig, who had watched him, hopped closer and held her leg up, waiting for him to send her on her way. But instead, Harry placed them inside his desk drawer, and began stroking his owl's feathers apologetically.

"Sorry, girl," he said quietly. "I have to deliver these myself. They'll be all I leave behind."

Hedwig hooted dolefully, and Harry imagined that she understood. He then leaned back in his chair and stared out the window at the dark sky, the city lights obscuring the stars. He listened to the sound of cars passing by outside, and the occasional barking of a dog, deep in his own thoughts. Only one more day of comfort, one more day in safety and peace. By this time tomorrow he, Ron, and Hermione would be hiding out at whatever safe place Hermione chose; by this time next year, God knew where he'd be or how many Horcruxes he would have found and destroyed, let alone if he yet lived. At length, in the midst of these morose thoughts, the exhaustion slowly crept up on Harry, and he felt himself gradually sink into the blissful oblivion of sleep.

The door was suddenly thrown open with a loud bang, and Harry, still at the desk with his head resting in his arms, jumped and sat up, groping around for his wand as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming through his window.

"Happy birthday!" Ron shouted, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Oi!" Harry exclaimed, pushing Ron away. "That was the shoulder you landed on yesterday!"

Ron looked slightly sheepish. "Well, I have to be excited about something, since Dad's taking us to the Ministry in about an hour." He sat on the bed, looking apprehensive. "What if we don't pass?"

Harry had worried about this too, although he at least was confident in his own ability. "Well, one of us has to," he said. "I'm sure Hermione wouldn't want to Side-Along-Apparate us every time we have to travel."

Ron quickly pressed his fingers to his lips and glanced at the door. "Careful. Mum's here too."

Harry too looked at the door nervously. "God. I'm going to have to do better. And speaking of which…"

He pointed his wand at the pile of crumpled paper, drafts of his letters, which vanished instantly.

"Good first use of overage magic, mate," Ron said. "What were those, anyway?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly he wasn't sure he felt like telling Ron what he'd spent the night doing. Instead, he smirked and flicked his wand. Ron yelled as he suddenly found himself upside-down, dangling in mid-air by his ankles.

"OI!"

Harry laughed, and flicked his wand again. Ron landed on the bed, and sat up, massaging the back of his neck.

"I owe you one for that," he grumbled.

"No, you don't," Harry retorted. "That's payback for hitting my sore shoulder and getting too nosy."

"Right," Ron muttered. "My bad."

At that moment, Molly stuck her head in the room. "What's going on in here?" she asked, bewildered.

"Harry's making the most of being seventeen," grumbled Ron.

Molly looked between them for a moment with raised eyebrows, but then, choosing not to ask, she said to Harry, "Happy birthday. I thought we'd pop over and prepare you some breakfast before you go to your exam"—

"You didn't have to."

—"which will be ready in five minutes," she continued, as though he'd made no interruption. As she spoke, Hermione appeared at her shoulder, also peering into the room. "I heard yelling," she said. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, they're fine," Molly huffed. "Honestly, it's always the same with boys. Soon as they turn seventeen, they immediately start using the privilege of overage magic to pull some prank on each other. Thought it might just be my sons, but apparently it's a little more universal." She shook her head. "Anyway, come on down once you're ready, Harry."

He nodded, and arched his back, which ached from his less-than-comfortable position during the night. As Molly left the room, Harry turned back to Ron, and asked quietly, "Are you finished packing?"

"Hermione did the internal extension thing to my rucksack," Ron said, "but I'm not quite finished yet."

"You'd better do it quick, then, before someone guesses something's up."

"Got it." Ron glanced at the door again, and then whispered, "About tonight, who's gonna be there?"

"Some Order members," Hermione answered in an undertone.

"We can't have Mad-Eye there," Ron said. "He'll almost certainly spot us."

"He's not going to be there," Hermione assured them. "Ginny found out last night that he and Elphias have been spending the last couple of days helping Hagrid smuggle Grawp and Buckbeak out of the country, and they're not expected back for at least another couple of days."

Harry and Ron both breathed sighs of relief. "Well, that's one less thing we have to worry about," said Ron.

"I was hoping to at least see Hagrid there, though," Harry said sadly. Then he looked at Hermione curiously. "He's taking Buckbeak too?"

She shrugged. "Maybe there wasn't anyone in the Order who had the time or resources to look after a hippogriff."

"He's going to try to parlay with giants, though," Harry said. "I don't know how much use Buckbeak would be for that. He and Grawp are too big to ride a hippogriff, so it's not like they can use him for travel, or to make a quick getaway."

"Oh, I hope it doesn't get as bad as it did last time," Hermione said, wringing her hands slightly. "They almost killed him then."

"Hagrid knows what he's doing," Ron said firmly, but in spite of his confident words, Harry could see his worry.

"I suppose it's for the best that he won't be at the party tonight," Harry said after a moment. "I'd rather he found out from someone in the Order, than have us suddenly disappear under his nose. I feel bad enough as it is."

They were quiet for a minute, then Ron checked his watch. "You coming down?"

"Hold on a minute." Harry opened his desk drawer and withdrew the two letters. He then turned to Hermione and handed them to her. "Can you hold on to these?" he asked quietly. "I don't want anyone at the Ministry finding them on me."

Hermione turned the letters over, and saw the names on the envelopes. She then gave Harry a very sad expression. "Of course," she said, securing them in an inside pocket of her jacket.

"Go ahead and send my rucksack to Ron's room," Harry instructed. "And don't forget to grab Hedwig when you head back to the Burrow."

She nodded, and waved her wand at said item, which immediately vanished.

By the time the three of them entered the dining room a moment later, Hermione had maintained her earlier cheer, giving no indication that anything was off. Ginny and Arthur were at the table, waiting for them.

"Happy seventeenth," Ginny said. "Enjoy it while you can, since you're about to have an exam."

Harry grunted.

"Do you feel ready?" asked Arthur, concerned. "We can always delay it, if you wish."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm ready. Just not looking forward to walking into Scrimgeour's territory. I've got a very nasty feeling he won't ignore me. He tried to corner me at Dumbledore's funeral, you know."

Arthur nodded sympathetically. "He's been trying to persuade me to talk you into arranging a meeting. I didn't say anything, since I knew what you'd say. I don't like his policies any more than you do, but you might have to consider at least agreeing to a meeting with him so you can make your stance clear to him. Maybe you'll get him out of your hair for a while."

Harry scowled. "I don't know how much clearer I can be. I wasn't exactly civil at the funeral."

Arthur sighed, but decided not to argue his point any further. Harry's eyes briefly met Ginny's. She understood, as he did, that soon it wouldn't matter anyway, and for a moment she looked down at her plate to hide a sad expression, before she stood, looking cheerful again, and said something about needing the loo; as she moved past, though, she rubbed Harry's arm soothingly.

It wasn't long before breakfast was finished, and once Molly cleared away their dishes, with no other reason to delay, Arthur soon led Harry and Ron out of the dining room. A moment later, Hermione and Ginny, still seated at the table, heard the front door slam. The former glanced at the latter, looking questioning, but Hermione's lips thinned and she subtly shook her head, only continuing to eat what was left of her toast. Ginny got up and went to the window, where she could just see her father, Harry, and Ron getting into a Rolls-Royce.

"Looks like the Ministry's given Harry an Auror escort again," she told Hermione. Squinting at the passenger window, she could just see bubble-gum pink hair, and added, "But I think it's Tonks this time."

"At least it's someone Harry knows, then." Hermione took a sip of her juice, and then continued, "It makes sense. Any Aurors accompanying Harry from Grimmauld Place would have to be members of the Order. Still, he's never really been thrilled about being assigned Ministry bodyguards every time he has to go to a public place."

"One of the drawbacks of the Ministry finally acknowledging Voldemort's return, I suppose." At that thought, Ginny smirked. "Remember the Aurors forcefully steering Harry into Platform Nine and Three Quarters last year?"

Hermione nodded. "And later, at Hogsmeade Station after the funeral. At least they didn't grab his arm that time. To be honest, I think Harry barely noticed them. He had other things on his mind, I suppose."

At that, they fell silent again. Hermione's subdued expression returned, and Ginny returned to the table with a sigh, trying not to think about what was going to happen later that day. To her relief, the grim mood was suddenly cut short by a sharp knock on the door, and a moment later, to her mild surprise, Percy strode into the dining room, looking slightly out of breath.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ginny. She saw Percy flinch slightly at the edge in her voice. Hermione frowned at her, and in an attempt to soften her voice, Ginny added, "Shouldn't you be in the office?"

"The Minister thinks I'm at Ogtrop's Optometry in Diagon Alley, for a new glasses prescription," Percy said uncomfortably. "Is Harry still here?"

"You just missed him," Hermione said.

"Oh. Well, I suppose he'll find out anyway. I just thought I'd warn him and Dad"—

"Warn them what?" demanded Ginny.

Percy fidgeted slightly. "Just that the press is aware that he's going to be at the Ministry today, though I don't think they know why… at any rate, he's going to find reporters waiting for him in the Atrium."

Ginny snorted. "Harry's going to just love that. I guess Scrimgeour couldn't resist the opportunity, give the impression that 'the Chosen One' is working directly with the Ministry, 'keep morale up', and all that. I suppose they're being kept at a distance so Harry can't tell them he's just there for his Apparation exam?"

"Officially for his safety, and so they don't make him late for his appointment," Percy admitted. "But essentially, yes."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Bloke doesn't give up, does he? If he put half as much effort into winning this war as he does"—

She broke off as she saw Percy's frown, and opened her mouth again, of a mind to tell Percy exactly what she thought of him for supporting the provably useless Ministry, but before she could get the words out, her mother emerged from the kitchen and squealed in delight when she saw her third son. Ginny sighed and settled back into her seat, as Molly invited Percy to some breakfast, and the latter accepted, quite at leisure owing to his fake eye appointment. Fred and George might even be proud of him, she thought bitterly. It was the closest to skiving that Percy Weasley would ever get.

What was his motive for coming back anyway?The question repeated itself in her head over and over again as she watched Percy begin eating a plate of scrambled eggs that Molly shoved under his nose, as it had ever since he showed up at Bill's wedding. She was aware that her parents and Percy had been shut up in her father's tool shed for more than an hour, just after Bill and Fleur departed for their honeymoon, but nobody really knew what took place during that conversation. Nor did she know anything about the subsequent meeting between Percy and Kingsley and Mad-Eye the next day, save that it happened at all. All she knew was that Percy was officially back, and that whatever explanation he had given, and whatever else had been said, had satisfied nearly everyone. That being said, she wasn't sure what Fred and George thought about it, nor how Harry really took it. She, however, couldn't so easily forget the terrible things Percy had said to them the day he abandoned his family, nor the things he'd said the previous Christmas while Scrimgeour and Harry argued in the garden.

Ginny knew from her brothers that Apparation exams were fairly short, simply a few exercises testing the completeness and accuracy of magically disappearing in one place and reappearing elsewhere, so she had not expected Harry and Ron to be away long; and sure enough, they returned after only about an hour. They walked into the dining room, where Hermione and Ginny still lingered, discussing an article in the Daily Prophet about potential connections between the Death Eaters and the black market and other networks of petty criminals. Ron was looking annoyingly cheerful, but Ginny frowned in mild consternation when she saw Harry's disgruntled expression.

Hearing them come in, Molly appeared in the dining room again, and seeing Ron's happy expression, remarked, "I take it you passed?" Ron triumphantly showed off a little purple card, and Molly beamed. "Well done. I'll have lunch ready in a couple of hours, and once that's done, we can head over to the Burrow."

Harry lowered himself into the chair next to Ginny, but said nothing. After a minute, in which his scowl remained firmly in place, she asked, "What's up? You look like Christmas was cancelled."

At this, Molly too took note of Harry's expression, and her face fell. "Didn't you pass?"

"He passed," Ron chortled. "He just had a run-in with Scrimgeour. It didn't go well. For Scrimgeour, anyway."

Ginny grimaced, wishing now that Percy had arrived early enough to warn Harry. "What happened?"

"He apparently tipped off the press that Harry was going to be in the Ministry today; leastwise, there were a bunch of them waiting in the Atrium," Ron began.

"We already know," Ginny said scathingly, just as Percy nervously emerged from the kitchen. "The Prodigal Son over there showed up to warn Harry but missed you by a couple of minutes."

Harry looked at Percy in mild surprise, but then sighed. "I could have used the warning, but I appreciate that you tried."

"How bad were they?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"Security kept them too far away for them to heckle me much," Harry muttered. "I suppose it could have been worse." To Hermione, he added, "Rita Skeeter was among them."

She shrugged. "We'll keep an eye on the Prophet, but you and I both know she won't dare say anything too nasty."

If either Molly or Percy thought this was an odd statement, they chose not to ask what she meant.

"Anyway, they spotted Harry before he even got through security," Ron continued the story. "Cameras flashing like mad, but as Harry said, they were kept too far away to do much more than that. Dad took us to the Apparation Test Center. They made us wait for a bit before giving us our tests. Even saw on a sign that Neville was taking his test today," he added to Hermione. "Didn't see him, though. Anyway, the test was over in about twenty minutes or so. The reporters were still there in the Atrium when we came back out."

"And there were more of them," Harry said. "And Scrimgeour."

Ron nodded. "Scrimgeour came over to meet with Harry, and loudly said that he hoped our visit went well. Harry then said he could see Scrimgeour got a good turnout, and Scrimgeour just shrugged and said he could hardly control how the reporters interpreted his visit. Harry said something about Stan Shunpike."

"Just that I'd heard Scrimgeour had finally released him," Harry said. "He just said he thought I'd be pleased about that. Git actually thought that would be enough to win me over, so I said it didn't change anything."

"Scrimgeour gave his usual rubbish about 'the greater good' and 'morale'," said Ron. "Harry said something about the lack of Death Eater activity in the papers, and accused Scrimgeour of covering something up. He then said that when whatever it was became public knowledge, he would not lie to everyone to help Scrimgeour cover his arse."

"Not my exact words," Harry interjected, when he spotted Molly's stern expression.

"At this point," Ron continued, ignoring this interruption, "we could tell that the reporters had realised that this meeting wasn't going too well, especially for Scrimgeour. Skeeter was starting to look really excited. So Harry just walked past Scrimgeour and showed the reporters his new Apparation license."

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't going to give them the impression that I was at the Ministry to discuss war tactics."

Ginny looked at him with raised eyebrows. "That's probably the first time you've ever deliberately instigated anythingwith the press," she said, smirking. "Sure as hell backfired on Scrimgeour. Can't wait to see what they make of it."

"I doubt he's going to give up," Hermione said, but she also looked amused. "What I don't understand is how he thought this wouldn't backfire. Harry's never been exactly cooperative with him."

"Maybe he thought he'd catch him off guard," Ron suggested, before he laughed again. "It was brilliant. Scrimgeour's face! Harry, d'you reckon he'd have jinxed us if he could get away with it?"

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't looking."

"It's not a laughing matter," Percy finally interrupted. "The repercussions could be severe. It's no small thing to keep brushing off the Minister, and now you've humiliated him besides."

"Right, side with your beloved Minister, like you always do," Ginny muttered, all her earlier humour vanishing in an instant; but it was evident that everyone had heard her. The room fell silent.

"I'm not siding with him!" Percy protested. "I'm just saying that this could make life more difficult for you, for all of us"—

"For you?" Ginny snapped.

"Ginny," Molly warned, her face reddening with anger.

It was Harry's turn to put a hand on her arm. Ginny fell silent, but she wasn't completely mollified. Every aspect of Percy's awkward demeanour told her she wasn't completely wrong, unfair as her comment might seem on the surface. While he wasn't wrong to worry about the possible repercussions of this, Ginny was sure he was primarily thinking of what it meant for his own position in the Ministry, and what he'd find, what he'd have to deal with, as soon as he returned to the office—which she hoped was soon. As pleased as she was for Harry, his passing the Apparation test meant she only had a few hours left with him before he departed for God knew how long, and the last thing she wanted today was for Percy's presence to mar any of that remaining time. At that thought, she glared at Percy, hoping he'd get some kind of hint. His face was a little pale—with anger or anxiety, she wasn't completely sure—and his lips were tightly pursed. For a long, uncomfortable moment, no one said anything. Then Harry finally spoke up.

"Why did you do it?" he asked quietly. "Why did you choose Fudge and Scrimgeour over your own family?"

"You know damn well why," Ginny started to say, but Harry shot her a warning look, and then she understood: he wanted to hear it from Percy himself.

Percy was clearly uncomfortable, seemingly trying to think of the right words to say. Finally, he said to Harry, "I owe everyone an apology, especially you. I know that. I won't pretend it wasn't hard to swallow, but I know I said and did things…"

"Iwon't pretend it didn't hurt," Harry interrupted. "But I'm not asking for my own sake, or for yours."

Molly was wringing her hands in distress, obviously terrified that this conversation would renew the break between her wayward son and the rest of her children, but something about this conversation seemed critical, and so she made no move to interrupt, and neither did Ginny. Percy grimaced, and looked downwards. "I've always been ambitious. You know that. I don't really know why, but I am. I suppose I never liked the poverty that I was brought up in, or the attitude I got from other pureblood wizards, both at school and when I started work. I don't suppose you fully understand, since you weren't brought up in this world, but to be pureblood and dirt poor can be very…" his voice trailed away for a minute, and then he finally admitted, "humiliating."

Ginny bristled, but Harry squeezed her hand slightly, and said, "I realise that. I witnessed almost every insult that Draco Malfoy threw at Ron, you know. When he wasn't insulting me, that is."

Percy frowned, perhaps remembering what little he himself witnessed of Malfoy's bullying. "I never had it quite that bad," he admitted, "but I did hear patronising remarks and sometimes outright insults too. When I got into the Ministry, I thought I was finally free to pursue my own ambitions, but it continued; perhaps more diplomatically, but it was there, and much of it was about Dad; anything from false sympathy for his never getting promoted, to jokes about his obsession with Muggles. It was grating. I suppose I thought it would be easiest to follow my own dreams if I distanced myself from Dad and his baggage."

No one said anything. Ginny glanced at Ron, and saw that he felt the same way she did; they were both too proud to notfeel indignant, but on the other hand, neither she nor Ron had ever heard Percy express this much self-awareness, and she vaguely wondered if this was the result of weeks or even months of reflection, or if it simply was the substance of what he'd already discussed at length with their parents.

"When that path was finally open to me two years ago, I seized it. Fudge gave me an opportunity I could not possibly have realistically expected, not after everything that happened with Mr. Crouch." Percy grimaced, perhaps with shame or embarrassment at the memory. "I suppose I was too proud to admit that my sudden promotion probably had nothing to do with my own merit. When Dad suggested otherwise, I didn't want to hear it, and especially not from him. In my mind, he was to blame from my being held back, and not my own folly."

"And Fudge's behaviour that year?" Harry asked, a dark edge to his voice. "You were as determined to deny that Voldemort had come back."

Percy flinched slightly at the name. "I was not there when you appeared at Hogwarts with Cedric Diggory's body," he said. "I neither saw what happened nor heard what was said. And by then, there were so many suspicious occurrences at Hogwarts, from the Chamber of Secrets to your suddenly being a fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament, so many things that made you the centre of attention… I suppose I thought by then you were enjoying the attention, like so many others did."

"You knew Harry, though," Ginny said angrily. "The rest of us knew differently because we know him, and know that it's not his fault, and that he hates the attention. You knew him too. How could you make that conclusion?"

"You don't understand what it looked like from my perspective!" Percy said defensively. "You can say that, but I was never as close to Harry as you and Ron and the twins were! And anyway, admitting that You-Know-Who had returned would be as good as admitting that my boss, Mr Crouch, had been directly under his control, and I hadn't seen it, because I was too pleased that he'd left me to run his whole department in his absence. How could I admit to myself that I had all but let You-Know-Who return because I was too wilfully blind, too happy to be in charge, to see that something was wrong?"

"So you did the same thing Fudge did," Harry said coldly. "It was easier for you to pretend I was lying, than it was to admit you'd screwed up."

"Yes, I suppose it was," Percy snapped. "Is that what you want to hear?"

He and Harry glared at each other for what seemed like an interminably long time. Then Harry exhaled slowly. "I could ask about your letter to Ron advising him to break his friendship with me," he said quietly. "I suppose I also ought to demand answers about Umbridge that year."

Percy seemed to pale at this. "I didn't know," he said. "I was just told she was there to keep an eye on the situation, and to make educational reforms. I swear I didn't know what she was doing to you. I didn't know about the Blood Quill, or the searches, or the interrogations"—

"What the hell did you think 'High Inquisitor' meant?" Ginny snarled.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Harry said sharply, ignoring Ginny's interruption. "Since you just admitted that you were wilfully blind to Crouch being under Voldemort's control, it shouldn't come as a shock to anyone that you wilfully blinded yourself to what Umbridge put all of us through that year. But that wasn't what I was going to ask. You could have come back to your family after Fudge finally admitted that Voldemort had returned, but you didn't. I'm not sure there's any point in asking why you didn't, because it probably just circles back to everything you've already said."

Percy, still pale, managed a small nod of admission.

"So what made you change your mind?" Harry demanded. "Why did you come back now?"

Percy was quiet for a minute, seemingly gathering his own thoughts. Then he said quietly, "I suppose I could no longer keep lying to myself. I don't see any point in lying to you at this point, I admit that when Fudge was forced to admit You-Know-Who was back, and when the evidence against both him and Umbridge began to stack up, I was still too proud to admit that I'd been wrong to put my trust in either of them. Instead, I continued under Scrimgeour, convincing myself that the Ministry was still the best way forward. Dumbledore had been right, and you had been right, but it seemed to me that the Aurors were more qualified to deal with You-Know-Who than a few vigilantes working with Dumbledore. I didn't want to admit to what was unfolding right in front of me. The Auror force has repeatedly pleaded for more resources, better ways to operate by stealth, because the Death Eaters keep evading them, repeatedly leading them into dead ends or wild goose chases; but the Minister can never seem to allocate them the resources they keep asking for, because it always intrudes on some other department who insist they need it themselves; or it simply became impossible to give the Aurors or Magical Law Enforcement the kind of funding needed, because doing so would be impossible without cutting into people's paychecks at the Ministry, or raising taxes, which would only decrease morale. Gringotts has made it clear that they will not loan the Ministry any more money or resources until they see some real progress in our dealing with the crisis. I pretended not to see what Scrimgeour was doing when he began arresting innocent people to make it look like the Ministry was putting up an effective resistance; whether it truly was to increase morale, or to try to deceive the goblins into relenting and loaning the Ministry money, it didn't matter. Maybe that's where I started to have doubts, watching as things began to spin out of control. I watched the Ministry's failures, over and over again, and I suppose I finally saw what the rest of you had known all along: politics was getting in the way of what had to be done."

Seeing their sceptical expressions, Percy hesitated, and added, "There are other reasons, which I'm not at liberty to speak of, but I will say this much, that among other things, from inferences and innuendos I heard in the Minister's office, I slowly began to understand that Dad being held back at the Ministry for so long was not as simple or as clear-cut as I'd previously been led to believe." As he spoke, Ginny was surprised and slightly puzzled to see her wayward brother's gaze rest on her, and also her mother shooting Percy a warning look. Ginny glanced at Harry, and saw that he too was looking between her and Percy with a perplexed expression. But rather than inquire further, Harry asked, "You've told your parents and the Order the full story?"

Percy looked extremely uncomfortable, but he nodded. He looked between the four of them, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Though bemused at the strange look Percy had just given her, Ginny still mostly felt angry, and could see from Ron's expression that he felt the same; but Harry leaned forward, looking at Percy searchingly, and after a minute, he finally said, "All right."

Percy stared at him, relieved. "You'll forgive me?"

Harry nodded. "I'll let it go. I think you have a lot of work to do before your family fully trusts you again, but I don't see any point in dragging it out, as long you truly mean to make amends."

Percy managed a small smile. "If it helps," he said, looking at Ron and Ginny, "Umbridge has been suspended from her position, and there's talk that she might be prosecuted."

"Well, it would be about time," Ron muttered.

But he had noticeably relaxed, and Ginny too felt as though some weight had been lifted from her family's shoulders. A part of her was still angry and indignant, but while she herself was not quite ready to fully trust her brother, Harry's decision to accept Percy's offered olive branch somehow made true reconciliation a real possibility. Besides, she reflected, as she looked at her mother's tear-stained, joyous expression, perhaps allowing herself to let it go, and move forward, would be worth it.

It was five o' clock, half an hour before her mother would begin Harry's birthday part. Ginny sat at her desk, leaning on the surface with her head in her hands. She'd known what he was planning for weeks, but now that the moment seemingly was only a couple of hours away, she felt a sudden emptiness that, until now, she had not allowed herself to feel. Neither he, nor Ron and Hermione, had been very forthcoming with Ginny about the details of their plan, but she was no idiot. With his Apparation license secure, and being present as he was in the less secure confines of the Burrow, Ginny knew that there was nothing keeping him there now. She'd known that the successful exam would mean his departure, possibly within a day or so, but in the hours since, Ginny had seen Harry's rucksack stowed in a corner of Ron's room, and she knew Hedwig's presence at the Burrow was not merely about giving the owl a chance to stretch her wings. She also had carefully observed her parents and other members of the Order over the past few days, and she'd be shocked if they suspected anything. But her satisfaction at Harry's success in hiding his plan, and her own success at aiding him, could only ever be limited. She hoped, of course, to one day see Harry, and Ron, and of course Hermione return safely from whatever task Dumbledore had set them to; in her wildest dreams, they would return as heralds of victory and peace, ushering in a world without Voldemort. But she was also a realist, and she knew that there was a very strong possibility of never seeing them again.

Letting them go would be the hardest decision Ginny ever made.

She looked up, and through her window, she observed Harry slowly walking across the back garden, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. Ginny watched hi for a moment, until he moved out of her line of sight, and she glanced at the box she had gift-wrapped earlier that week. Perhaps, if she hurried, she might find him before dinner was announced; she therefore grabbed the box and hurried out her door, down the stairs, and, to avoid her mother's view, she stripped out the front door, rather than the more direct route through the kitchen and out the back door. Looking around quickly, she finally spotted Harry approaching the back garden. He was watching a couple of gnomes fighting over an acorn as she caught up with him, and hearing her footsteps, he looked up and saw her.

"I thought I'd get a last look around the place," he admitted. "Not sure I'll ever see it again, you know."

"I keep telling you not to think like that," Ginny said softly.

Harry smiled. "You do. I'm sorry." He then glanced towards the house. "Is it time for dinner already?"

"No." Ginny showed him the box. "I just wanted to give you this. It's probably not a good idea to open it up at dinner. It might raise Mum's suspicions."

Harry took the box, and looked at it curiously, before sitting on a tree stump and carefully unwrapping it. He then opened the box and withdrew what looked like a steel fountain pen, but somewhat bulkier and with a pale blue, crystalline tip.

"It detects enchantments and curses," Ginny explained. "You just wave it over something. It glows bright green if it picks up a harmless enchantment, and red if there's a curse or any form of Dark magic involved. Thought it might be useful."

Harry smiled and pocked the sensor. "Where'd you get it?"

"There's a lot of Defence stuff in Diagon Alley these days," she answered. "I just ordered it. Mad-Eye showed these to me a few days before you got here from the Dursleys', and I had him make sure it was genuine when it arrived, you know, not one of those fakes people sell on street corners."

Harry chuckled darkly. "Well, even if your mum might find it suspicious, I doubt Mad-Eye will; he's been trying to turn me into a paranoid git like him for weeks, so I imagine it at least has his stamp of approval. Thanks, Ginny."

"Any time," she said. She then looked towards the house. From a distance, she could see her mother in the kitchen, and she took a quick look at her watch. "We'd better get inside," she said. "Before the guests start arriving and Mum comes looking for you."

She started to move back in the direction of the house, but then Harry quietly called her back. Ginny stopped, and looked at him. Harry's eyes met hers, and then he moved closer.

"We're leaving directly after the party," he told her.

"I know," Ginny whispered.

"This will be the last moment I have with you for a long time," Harry said. "My last chance to… to say goodbye."

"Harry"—

But before she could say anything further, he pulled her into a close hug. Ginny felt tears sting her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck. She could hear Harry's quivering breath as he held onto the embrace for a full minute, before relaxing it enough to lean his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, which were starting to water as well. Ginny closed hers too, and swallowed, her heart pounding, as she felt Harry brush her lips with his; until all too son, he released her, and stepped away.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'll see you at dinner." Looking around, he added, "I think I'd like to stay out here for another few minutes."

Ginny nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak, and slowly walked back to the house, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. When she reached the door, she looked back, but Harry had left the garden, and was just visible meandering slowly by the orchard.

When she returned to her room, she found Hermione looking through a rucksack similar to Harry's; as she closed the door, Hermione looked up in alarm, but relaxed when she saw who had entered.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I thought it was your mum at first."

Under any other circumstances, Ginny might have found Hermione's guilty look somewhat amusing; she wore exactly the same expression that Ron, Fred, or George assumed when caught. But this time she couldn't smile. Hermione, seeing Ginny's morose expression, straightened. "Are you all right?"

"No," Ginny admitted, glancing at the window.

Hermione too looked outside. Harry was still visible, still hanging around the orchard. "He told you, then?"

"I suspected as much anyway," Ginny said. She swallowed, and looked at the rucksack. "Internal Extension Charm, I suppose? How much of your stuff are you taking?"

"Almost everything, really," Hermione admitted. "I'm glad your mum just thinks I'm tidy, but really…"

She stepped to her trunk and opened it, showing it to be almost completely empty except for a few assorted pits and pieces. Hermione stared into it for a second, and then closed the trunk. When she looked up, Ginny saw that she herself seemed to be on the verge of tears, and then she said in a shaky voice, "It's hard to believe we've finally come to this point." When Ginny said nothing, she added, "You'll look after Crookshanks for me?"

"Of course I will," Ginny said softly.

"Thank you."

Ginny nodded, and turned away to try to school her features, but Hermione wasn't fooled. She then pulled Ginny into a warm, comforting hug. But they weren't able to hold it for more than a few seconds before they heard someone coming up the stairs, and immediately broke apart. A second later, Molly entered the room.

"Dinner's just about ready," she announced. I've sent Ron to go find Harry. I saw him out in the garden earlier. Strange that he'd be keeping to himself. It's his birthday."

Hermione and Ginny both shrugged innocently. "It's Harry," Ginny said. "He sometimes does that. Besides, he's been cooped up at Grimmauld Place most of the time. He probably needs to be out of doors more now."

Molly was frowning as she turned to leave the room. "Well, he shouldn't be wandering around by himself, at any rate."

As soon as she was gone, Hermione opened her trunk again, and pulled out what looked like a money-bag, which she put on Ginny's desk. She then took a scrap of paper from the desk surface, and scribbled a note, which she handed to Ginny. Then she left the room without another word.

Ginny stared after Hermione, and then looked at the note and read:

Just in case you need them.
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, pg. 243 for engraving spells.
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7, pg. 176 for Protean Charm.

Stunned, Ginny immediately crossed the room to her desk, and opened up the bag. It was full of Galleons, but she knew they were not Galleons, but the D.A.'s old contact coins. Ginny inhaled sharply, and then she looked back at the door, where Hermione had just disappeared, and managed a smile. She then put the note into the money-bag, which she then stowed inside her desk drawer, out of sight.

An hour later found Harry in the front room with all the Weasleys (Bill, Charlie, and Fleur excepted), Hermione, Remus, and Tonks, having their dinner there owing to the kitchen being too small to fit all of them. There was a lot of cheer and conversation, and some music was playing. At the twins' end of the room, the activity was slightly rowdier (they had brought Firewhisky). While Harry was delighted to have them all there, however, he found it difficult to follow the conversations around him, because his thoughts kept turning to his prepared rucksack upstairs, and the ring in his side pocket, which he found himself fiddling with but carefully avoiding slipping on. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, who looked equally distracted, although Hermione seemed to handle it better. Ginny too was quiet.

Just after dinner, Molly stepped out of the kitchen with a flustered expression, and told Harry that the cake wasn't quite ready yet.

"It's all right," Harry assured her. "We can wait."

"Of course!" called Tonks. "We can't have a party end too soon, after all!"

As she spoke, Fred and George sang: "Let the Healers do their art, It makes no diff'rence to my heart, A warlock always forgets his hunch When he's stuck outside with a jug of punch"—

"Fred, George!" Molly shouted. "Stop that at once! Some here are underage!"

"Oh, come on, Mum," George protested. "Ginny's heard worse at post-Quidditch match parties!"

"For that matter, she's doneworse at post-Quidditch match parties," Fred added.

Harry managed a smile, and glanced at Ginny, who was giggling in spite of herself. Molly rolled her eyes, grumbling to herself, and then looked back at Harry. "It won't be ready for about half an hour at least. Sorry, Harry."

"We could start opening presents while we're waiting," Arthur suggested.

Harry nodded and assured her that this was fine, but he felt regretful. Part of him wanted to wait, to enjoy the comfort of the Burrow while he still could, but he, Ron, and Hermione had agreed to leave directly after the present opening. They now had less than an hour.

"Go on, then," George said. "Harry, start with this one."

He handed Harry a fairly large package. It was very heavy, but marked with a large WWW emblem. Harry looked at the twins suspiciously, not even remotely trusting their innocent expressions, but nonetheless, he carefully opened the box. His caution was rewarded with a pie in the face.

"George!" Molly shouted. "Can't we have one peaceful evening?"

Harry's face was covered with cream and filling, and he couldn't see a thing, but aside from Molly's yelling he could hear everyone howling with laughter, but as he drew his wand and siphoned away the cream, he found himself laughing too. It felt good, almost like it was a normal day with an ordinary birthday party.

"I suppose I should have seen that coming," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Your real present is beneath it," Fred said, chortling.

Their present turned out to be a package of assorted Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise, particularly those related to Defence Against the Dark Arts: Decoy Detonators, Instant Darkness Powder, and a few black hats that Harry supposed were Shield hats styled for the Auror office. There were also an assortment of products from the Skiving Snackboxes. Harry looked up at the twins, and as he thanked them, he wondered, not for the first time, how much they knew about his plans to leave.

Once Harry set this aside, Tonks came forward and handed him a softer package. "It's from Hagrid," she explained. "He regrets that he can't be here, but he left this with us before he set out."

Harry said nothing, again feeling a painful twinge as he thought of the half-giant, his first real friend as well as his first contact with the Wizarding World. The package contained a greyish outfit, including cloak, jacket, boots, and trousers, made from a thick, leathery hide. Harry unfolded it and held it up, and as he did a note fell from it. Handing the pile to Ron, Harry picked up the note and read,

Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! Found these in some of my dad's old stuff a couple of months ago, but it's too small for me, so it's yours. They're made of Graphorn hide. I'm sorry I can't make it to your party. Hope it's a good one.
Hagrid.

"Graphorn hide?" Remus exclaimed, amazed. "Blimey. That's quite a thing to have. It's tougher than dragon hide and can repel most spells."

For his part, Harry was touched that Hagrid wanted him to have some of his father's old possessions, and wondered if he'd ever have an opportunity to thank him. He wondered where Hagrid was at that moment, if he and Grawp had successfully left the country, and if they had yet contacted whatever tribe of giants they were headed for. Folding up the cloak, Harry placed it and the rest of the outfit on top of the twins' box, before he continued on to the other presents.

Hermione gave Harry a few spellbooks and a full-sized Sneakoscope, while Ron gave him a large penknife, which he explained was almost indestructible and never needed to be sharpened. Molly and Arthur gave him an enchanted razor, and finally, Remus gave Harry a steel pocket watch, which, along with the two hands and twelve numbers, also featured a number of dials and interconnecting circles.

"It was Sirius's," Remus explained. "Your grandparents gave it to him on his seventeenth. He intended to give it to you for yours."

His hands shaking, Harry examined the watch carefully, and then, feeling his eyes water a little as he thought of Sirius, he stood and pulled Remus into an embrace. He then sank back onto the couch, and watched as Remus returned to his seat next to Tonks, who took his hand affectionately.

"Well, I should go check the cake," Molly announced, standing up. "I won't be a minute."

She left the room, but Harry slowly straightened, and glanced at Hermione as he reached into his jacket pocket and clenched the hidden Portkey ring in his fist. This was it; this was the moment they'd agreed upon. Hermione gave him a discreet nod, and Harry stood up, pocketing Sirius's watch and Ron's knife, and picking up the twins' box.

"Let's make a bit of room," he said. "I'll take these upstairs for now."

Hermione too stood up, scooping up the Graphorn outfit, the Sneakoscope, and the spellbooks. "I'll get these."

"Cheers."

Harry glanced at Ron, who remained seated, his gaze downcast. As he passed Ginny, his eyes met hers for a split second. The hard, determined look he knew so well appeared in her countenance, and she gave him a short nod, which Harry understood to mean, "Get to it." His mouth dry, Harry returned the nod and started up the stairs with Hermione. It would be the last time he looked at Ginny Weasley for a long time.

As soon as he and Hermione made it to Ron's room, and Harry stuffed his birthday presents into his rucksack, Hermione looked at her watch.

"Ron should be up here in a few minutes," she whispered. "Whenever somebody decides to come looking for you."

"That should give me enough time," Harry said. "Have you got my letters?"

Hermione nodded and handed them to him. "Use a Silencing spell," she instructed, "so they won't hear you moving around."

"Right." Harry paused, and left the letter addressed to Molly and Arthur on Ron's dresser. He then told Hermione to wait there, and quietly left the room, casting the Silencing spell on the stairs as he crept towards Ginny's room. Her door seemed to make a deafening creak as he opened it, and he froze, listening, but there was no falter in the conversation below, and Harry relaxed and slipped inside. It was quite dark, but unlike Ron's room, rather tidy. Harry could see a poster on one wall, but it was so dark that he couldn't make out what it showed. Only faint starlight filtered in through Ginny's window, dimly illuminating her desk. Harry laid the second letter there, and then quickly left the room. He then inhaled deeply, hoping Ginny would find it soon, and listened to the sounds of chatter below, before he regained his nerves and stole back up the stairs, negating his Silencing spell as he did, so they'd hear if anyone followed him up. When he returned to Ron's room, he found Ron already waiting there, with one strap of his rucksack slung over his shoulder. Hermione too had put on her own.

"Mum's last message is 'What's keeping you so long,'" Ron muttered with a hollow voice, his eyes on the floor.

Harry picked up his rucksack, still amazed at how light it felt, and admired Hermione's spellwork for a moment. Hedwig, who had been perched on Ron's bedpost the whole evening, fluttered onto Harry's shoulder, gripping it hard so that she wouldn't fall off him in transit. Harry winced at the sharp pressure, but then he looked at his beloved owl, glad that he'd be taking her with him, and stroked her feathers affectionately, before he reached into his pocket and withdrew his ring. He then held it out before him, looking through its circle, before raising his left forefinger, poised to slide it on. For the past few weeks, they'd been so busy planning their escape, that they hadn't considered the moment in which they actually would. Now that moment had come, and yet Harry hesitated, considering the magnitude of what he was about to do. Then, turning to his two companions, he whispered, "We can still turn back, you know. But once we put on these rings, there is no going back."

Hermione and Ron said nothing, but Harry could see the fear in their eyes, and the determination, as they produced their own rings from their pockets. Harry wasn't sure how long they stood there, at the threshold, but then they heard Molly Weasley's footsteps coming up the stairs, and as one, the three of them slipped on their rings. The die was cast.

Ginny knew long before her mother finally went upstairs in search of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, that she would find only empty rooms, and she knew they were gone before her mother's anguished scream rent through the air, disturbing the cheer of the still-going party in the living room. Everyone jumped at the sound, and Arthur was the first to run up the stairs to see what the matter was, Fred and George close behind. Remus quickly followed, while Percy and Tonks got to their feet, the latter drawing her wand. Ginny, however, remained in her seat, her eyes shut as she tried to keep her composure. Though she'd known about this, though she'd anticipated it and even aided them in it, the pain of their departure was still very sharp. She knew from everyone's reactions that Harry had been successful in his effort to hide it. No one had expected or suspected it, not even Fred and George, but an overwhelming feeling fell upon Ginny as she realised that Harry had entrusted her with the knowledge of what he was about to do, because he knew she would let him go.

It seemed to take ages, but eventually Remus came back down, followed closely by Fred and George, with an open letter in his hands. Ginny could see that it was in Harry's writing.

"What the hell's happened?" Tonks asked immediately.

"Harry's gone." Remus sounded as though he had a head cold. "Ron and Hermione too. I don't know how they got out, but their rooms are empty, and they've taken most of their things with them."

Tonks gasped.

"Someone should go to Grimmauld Place," Percy said urgently. "Check Harry's room."

"We'll do it," said George, and he and Fred ran out the front door. There was a crack as they both Disapparated.

Tonks looked back at Remus. "Where'd they go? Remus?"

But he sank into his chair, looking dazed. "We should have suspected," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. "They've obviously been planning this for a while."

He handed her the letter. Tonks read it quickly. "Bugger it all!" she shouted angrily, throwing the letter down. "That damn, stupid idiot!"

And with that, she followed Fred and George into the night and too Disapparated. Percy, stunned, reached down and took up the letter. Then, glancing at Ginny, he began to read:

Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,
By the time you read this letter, Ron, Hermione, and I will have gone. Now that I am of age, and knowing the things that I know, I have embarked on my own task against Voldemort and intend to fight him to the end. I ask you now not to go looking for me, nor should you ask the Order to do so. We are of age. This was our decision, it was not taken lightly, and we have the right to act when we think it necessary. I truly apologise for the distress that our actions have caused you, but what I am doing, what we are trying to accomplish, is my responsibility and not the Order's.

Before I leave, I should take the opportunity now to thank you for the hospitality you have given me, not only in the last few weeks, but since I first came here, after Fred, George, and Ron pulled me out of my barred window at Privet Drive. Before that, no one had ever treated me as family. You were the family I never had, and you will always be at the forefront of my thoughts and hopes. I don't know if we'll ever see each other again, but I sincerely hope that we will.

I now close in the hope that the journey ahead, and the sacrifices and actions I make, will not be in vain, and that one day the Wizarding World will be at peace again.

Harry Potter

Remus sank even further into his seat, and Ginny could see a single tear escape his eyes. Percy had gone very pale as he read the letter, and he weakly folded it and placed it on a shelf, obviously lost for words. But Ginny, unwilling to linger, stood up and made her way up the stairs. She could hear her mother sobbing in Ron's room upstairs, and her father trying to comfort her, but rather than go on up to check on them, she went to her own room. When she closed her door and turned the lights on, she started to change into her pyjamas, and then caught sight of an envelope on her desk, which she didn't remember seeing before, and she picked it up. Seeing her name on the front, she inhaled sharply, and quickly opened it.

Dear Ginny,
You already know, of course, that I've gone. You've known for a while that I would. Thank you for the support you have given me for the past few weeks. I don't know when we'll see each other again, if ever, but even with the very real possibility of my never returning, not once have you held me back or begged me not to go. Maybe we'll see each other again. I hope we do.

Since I have no other opportunity, allow me to say this: a few days ago, you gave me ten minutes, which would probably make the strongest Patronus I could possibly produce, but those ten minutes were for you as well. Please take the memory with you.

I'm also sorry for the hurt I gave you at Dumbledore's funeral, but I hope you understand why I did what I did. But I realise that it may not have prevented the Death Eaters from making you a target. So please prepare yourself. I'd tell you to keep safe, but I know you won't appreciate that, so instead I want you to look after yourself, and when you come of age and join the fight, give the Death Eaters hell.

Harry

Ginny smiled. "I'll do just that, Harry," she quietly promised. She then pressed the letter to her heart, and sank onto her bed and looked out the window at the starry sky, and felt her own tears running down her cheeks, not just for Harry, but for herself as she thought of the bleak, uncertain future that lay ahead.

The clock chimed, interrupting Benedict Grobschmied's reading, and he glanced up from his book of Dagadalfic legends to see that it was nine o' clock, almost closing time. But he didn't anticipate any visitors at this time of night, and he had half an hour left, so he sipped his glass of mead, and continued reading. Ten minutes passed in silence, as he read the tale of Avaelar the Fata, before his door opened and his nephew stepped inside, followed by Menger Gadlak. Grobschmied closed the book and set it down on his desk.

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

Rok closed the door, and smiled grimly. "It's started," he said, "if slightly sooner than we anticipated. Mr Potter's finally made a move."

Grobschmied stared at him for a moment. He then drained his glass of mead, and picked up a folded sheet of paper, placed it on a stone slab in his desk drawer, and pressed it down flat, muttering an incantation in Old Nemelian: "T'argthe suargh il'ghinal Cerdinghiar Gaedlighar."

With that, he withdrew his hand. The note had vanished. He looked at the two younger goblins, and stood abruptly.

"Then we are right behind him," he told them intently. "Gather your things. We're leaving."