The Rebirth

Chapter 1

The Burrow

July 25, 1997

Harry Potter was having the worst summer of his life. Only two months had passed since the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but the weeks had dragged by like years. When he said goodbye to his friends at the end of last school term he adopted a rather philosophical attitude towards his situation, but that had eroded after only two days at number four, Privet Drive. Every time Harry heard a creak on the stairs, an unexpected cough from one of the Dursleys, or a car driving past the house, he nearly jumped out of his skin, convinced that the dark wizard Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters, had finally found him. What with spending nearly every waking moment in a state of anxious watchfulness and his sudden starts whenever he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, it was as though Harry had developed a rather alarming and unfortunate twitch, which only served to further convince the Dursleys that Harry was a threat to the normalcy of life on Privet Drive. He was more of an outcast in their house than he had ever been before, if that was even possible. Although Hedwig, his snowy owl, brought him regular letters from his best friends, Harry missed them terribly.

The fact was, Harry just didn't feel safe from Voldemort at the Dursleys' house. True, he had escaped from Voldemort at the end of fourth year, but as far as Harry was concerned that had been nothing more than a lucky fluke. He was highly unlikely to be able to lay his hands on a Portkey should the Death Eaters come to Privet Drive, and the Dursleys would be no help whatsoever. They would probably beg Voldemort to take him. At the time of the confrontation, Voldemort had been newly reembodied, and Harry supposed that he had not yet been at his full strength.

Two years had passed since then, and once again the Dark Mark was a regular feature in the sky. Dumbledore had, of course, been working tirelessly against Voldemort since that night in the hospital wing after the third task, but he had fallen out of favor with Minister Fudge and was forced to carry on the fight in secret. The Death Eaters were too politically powerful; they blocked him at every turn. But now, Voldemort had regained all his old strength. He was back at the height of his powers, and, too late, the wizarding world finally realized that their unwillingness to acknowledge his return had made his second rise to power much easier than the first.

Harry understood what his godfather, Sirius Black, had meant when he described the first reign of terror. No one knew who to trust. How to tell who were spies for Voldemort, or who was under the Imperius Curse? The Dark Mark appeared almost nightly. Muggle tortures and killings added to the chaos that typified the Ministry lately. And, as far as Harry was concerned, the scar on his forehead might as well have been a target. The entire wizarding world knew that he would graduate from Hogwarts in a year, and already editorials in The Daily Prophet were reassuring a terrified populace that surely Harry Potter would save them a second time. Harry was enrolled in Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he was far from the best student in the class and he had no idea how on earth he was going to protect everyone from Voldemort when he couldn't even protect himself without Dumbledore's help.

Harry knew he would feel much more secure with fully-grown, fully trained wizards around, which was why he was desperately looking forward to receiving an invitation to stay at the Burrow with Ron and the Weasley family. Besides his two magical parents, Ron's five older brothers had already graduated from Hogwarts and his younger sister, Ginny, was some kind of transfiguration and DADA savant; her marks in those classes were even higher than Hermione's had been. Harry watched every day for Pig, Ron's owl, hoping he would bring an invitation to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer holidays.

Harry was drawing an X through July 25th on the wall calendar he used to count down the days until his return to Hogwarts when Pig rocketed through Harry's window with a scrap of paper tied to his leg. Harry eagerly unrolled the small scroll with one hand, crossing the fingers on his other. He let out a sigh of relief as he read the first sentence, and then devoured the rest of the brief note, eager for the feeling of connection with the wizarding world that Ron's letters provided.

Hi Harry!

Dumbledore has finally said that you can come stay with us. Mum and Dad have been keeping after him since the end of term. It's a miracle that Errol isn't dead from all the trips he's made to Hogwarts. Anyway, be ready to leave on the 30th at about 11:00 in the morning. See you in a few days!

Ron

Harry grinned. July 31st would be his seventeenth birthday, and he couldn't think of a better gift than to stay with the Weasleys for the rest of the holidays. He fired off notes to Hermione and Sirius, letting them know where he'd be, and scribbled a short letter to Ron, thanking him for the invitation and promising to be ready on the thirtieth.

* * * * *

When Harry informed the Dursleys of the Weasleys' invitation that night at dinner, Uncle Vernon hit the roof.

"Those red-haired freaks are not coming here! Need I remind you that the last time they were here to pick you up, they demolished an entire wall of the house and attacked my son! Absolutely not. They will not come back, ever, and you can leave the table immediately and write them that you're not going."

"I wasn't asking your permission," Harry retorted icily. "I was telling you that they were coming to get me as a courtesy. Although why I would even bother being courteous to you three is a complete mystery." The last sentence had been muttered under his breath, but Vernon still heard him.

"That's it, boy. Up to your room, NOW!"

Harry trudged up the stairs and gave his door a satisfying slam. His stomach growled with unsatisfied hunger and he knew that Aunt Petunia would devise an endless list of disgusting chores for him to complete for tomorrow, but he couldn't keep a silly grin of relief off of his face. The Weasleys were coming to get him in four days, after his seventh year was over he would never have to return to Privet Drive, and once he was at the Burrow he could stop looking over his shoulder every two seconds, expecting the Death Eaters to be closing in behind him.

* * * * *

Sure enough, Aunt Petunia shook him awake at six o'clock the next morning. While he opened his eyes and fumbled with his glasses she gave him a curt, "Get up. You'll be working outside today."

Harry knew the day wouldn't be fun, but he kept his mind on the Burrow and remembered that he only had three more days of slave labor for the Dursleys and then he would never have to see them again. The thought of a Dursley-free existence was pleasant enough to sustain him through an entire day of spreading manure in Aunt Petunia's flowerbeds.

Over the next two days, life at number four became more and more tense. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were even more anxious about the Weasleys' arrival than they had been last time. They day before they came, Uncle Vernon asked Harry, "And how will they be coming this time? I will not tolerate flying carpets or other such nonsense."

"Flying carpets are illegal in Britain," Harry replied absently. He was busy scrubbing out the dustbins.

Uncle Vernon's big, beefy face turned purple. "Are you mocking me, boy?"

"No," Harry replied. "I don't know how they're planning to get here, but it definitely won't be by flying carpet." Truth be told, he had no idea how the Weasleys were planning on getting him and his trunk, heavy with his school things, from Privet Drive to the Burrow. Floo powder had proved to be a spectacular failure, and they no longer had a car, as theirs was currently running wild in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. By broom maybe? But how would they move his trunk, and keep the Muggles from spotting them as they flew? Well, anyway, he was sure they'd think of something, and Harry supposed he'd just have to wait a few more days to see what it was.

* * * * *

Harry woke up early on the morning of the thirtieth, excitement and happiness flowing through him. He had waited for this day for almost sixteen years—the day he would leave the Dursleys forever. He got out of bed and put on the outfit he'd laid out the night before; all of his other clothes were stowed away in his trunk. When he came down to breakfast, the Dursleys didn't even look up at him. Dudley was incredibly fidgety and Aunt Petunia was fussing over him, baby talking and patting his hand like he was some kind of invalid. Uncle Vernon kept looking through the kitchen door to the living room with an anxious expression. He was fervently hoping that this visit from the Weasley family would leave his house intact.

Harry dragged his trunk out from under the stairs and sat on it to wait. From his vantage point he could keep an eye on the grandfather clock in the front hall and count down the time till he could leave the Dursleys and their disgusting house for the last time ever. He watched the second hand tick closer and closer to eleven o'clock. Three seconds, two, one…

Brrring!

The doorbell rang. Harry stood, but Uncle Vernon got there first. Aunt Petunia and Dudley bunched behind him blocking Harry's view of the door so he ran up a few steps on the staircase to see over their heads. Uncle Vernon pulled open the door to reveal a petite girl with shoulder length red hair standing on the porch. She looked a bit surprised to be faced by the entire Dursley family, but she gave them all a friendly smile. "Hi," she said. "I'm here for Harry Potter. Is he at home?" The girl stood on her toes, thinking Harry might be standing at the back of the group blocking the door. She figured that this was Harry's family, and she had heard from her brothers that they weren't nice people, but she was a firm believer in giving everyone a chance before making judgements about them.

"And who might you be then?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

Her smile intensified. "Ginny Weasley. Very pleased to meet you." She stuck out her right hand, as her parents had taught her to do when introducing herself to adults. Uncle Vernon stared at her hand, but did not take it. Aunt Petunia turned up her nose and put her hands behind her back. Dudley blinked stupidly, but made no move to shake her hand either.

Ginny's smile faltered. She was not used to people being deliberately rude to her and hardly knew how to react. She had only ever been treated unkindly by the Malfoys, and that was to be expected as Malfoys were very rarely pleasant towards anyone. She had expected better from Harry's family. Ginny withdrew her hand, flushing slightly, and asked again "Is Harry at home? He should have been expecting me."

Then she noticed Harry standing on the stairs. He smiled at her and her grin came back full force, although her blush didn't go away. Harry had been expecting a sizeable portion of the Weasley family, or Ron at the very least, but that didn't mean that he wasn't glad to see her. He liked Ginny very much. She used to have a crush on him that was a bit embarrassing, but she seemed to have grown out of it in the last year or so. Once she had stopped stammering and blushing in his presence, Harry had discovered that Ginny was very good company. She was friendly and smart, assertive and very independent. "Hey, Ginny," he greeted. "I've got all my stuff ready to go. Can you give me a hand?" Ginny nodded and took a step towards the doorway, but the Dursleys stood firm. She offered them a cautious smile. "Could you please excuse me? I'm just going to help Harry with his trunk."

They didn't move. Uncle Vernon towered over her. "No," he said.

She gave him an odd look. "No?"

"The last time members of your family came into my home an entire wall was knocked down. Your kind are not welcome in my house."

Harry was just about to speak up in Ginny's defense when she broke into a relieved laugh. "Oh, I see! I heard about the floo incident. Don't worry," she gave them what she hoped was a reassuring look. "It was just a misunderstanding. That's why none of the others came along. Mum was too afraid they might try something, so she sent me. And I didn't even bring my wand along, so you don't have to worry about any magic happening or anything."

To her surprise, the Dursleys weren't reassured. Rather, they all looked even more offended by her presence than they had before. Uncle Vernon leaned down until his nose was about an inch from hers. "We do not tolerate mention of your abnormality in this house," he yelled in her face. "Now take the boy and get out of here. Don't you ever come near my family again."

Ginny took a step back, shocked. Mr. Malfoy had never been this bad, not even when he picked a fistfight with her father in Flourish and Blotts her first year at Hogwarts. She tried to catch Harry's eye, hoping for a clue on how she should handle the situation but Harry was staring at Uncle Vernon with disgust and hostility written all over his face. All of the Weasleys had a temper and although she had to be pushed quite far before losing hers, once angered Ginny was a sight more volatile than the rest of her family. Had it been up to her, Vernon Dursley would be belching slugs right about now, but she didn't want to attack the uncle of her brother's best friend. Plus, breaking the restrictions on underage magic was serious business. Mum would probably ground her until she was a hundred and twenty. Quickly weighing her options, Ginny decided that putting a little scare into the Dursleys would be an acceptable compromise between letting Vernon yell in her face without standing up for herself and cursing the living daylights out of him. She pulled out her wand. Now it was Uncle Vernon who took a step back.

"I thought you said you didn't bring a wand," he said, the slight tremble in his voice betraying his fear.

Ginny wasn't smiling anymore. "Harry, are you ready to go?" she asked, eyes narrowed, craning her neck to see around the Dursleys.

"Yeah, I just have to get my stuff," he replied, rather impressed at how fast she had drawn her wand. She was calm and self-possessed rather than stuttering and tripping over herself as she used to do, and once again he thought how very pleased he was with the new Ginny.

The Dursleys had retreated far enough for her to enter the house, but she didn't make a move to help Harry with the heavy trunk. She looked at the Dursleys contemptuously and, without lowering her wand, asked Harry, "Do you think you can get it yourself? It would probably be better for your relatives if I didn't come any closer."

Dudley gave a frightened squeak, and Harry laughed. He was amused with himself; he had considered defending Ginny, supposing that she couldn't stand up for herself. He was being proved wrong now, and he couldn't wait to tell Ron about how his little sister terrified the Dursleys. Harry dragged the trunk to the door, leaving deep scratches in the hardwood floor of the foyer, and heaved the trunk onto the porch. Ginny looked back to have one last word with Vernon, but he had slammed the door just as soon as the trunk crossed the threshold.

Harry and Ginny stood alone on the porch, the trunk between them. She flushed bright red and hastily tucked her wand back into her bag. "I'm sorry," she began tentatively, looking at her shoes. "I didn't mean to scare your family. Well, I did mean it, but I didn’t think that, um…." She trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"Don't worry about it. They deserved what they got," Harry said reassuringly. He thought that the assertive Ginny that scared the wits out of the Dursleys was vastly preferable to the old Ginny who stared at him all the time, and he was suddenly nervous that the old Ginny was about to reemerge. Her blushing was beginning to make him uncomfortable and he wished he knew what to say to make her stop. "Fred and George will be so impressed when you tell them."

She gave him a tentative smile. "Do you think? Their toffee prank was so much better than anything I ever could have dreamed up. I didn't bring my wand so that I could threaten the Dursleys. I wasn't going to take it out, but then he yelled in my face and I, um, I just lost my temper, I guess."

"Why did you bring your wand at all?" he asked. "It's not like you're allowed to use it or anything, what with the restriction on underage magic and all."

"Oh, that. Well, mum and dad like me to have it in my bag when I go out, what with, you know, one thing and another." She trailed off, and there was an awkward silence. Harry knew that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were two of the people in the Wizarding world who were in Dumbledore's inner circle, and had been leaders in the fight against Voldemort ever since that night when the Dark Lord had formed a new body and reassembled the Death Eaters. The Weasleys wouldn't want their children to go about without protection, even in the muggle world.

Ginny was embarrassed. She hadn't meant to bring up Voldemort, even indirectly. She imagined that Harry had enough of that during the school year and didn't need reminding of it during the holidays. She took a deep breath and reminded herself of the goals she had set for the rest of the summer holidays. Just that morning she had looked in her mirror and told her reflection I will not act like a stupid prat in front of Harry Potter. I will not stare, blush, giggle, or act lovesick in any way shape or form. I will treat him the same way that I treat Hermione. Or Ron. And she meant to stick to those resolutions too. She had nurtured a crush on Harry since she first heard his name and learned of the miracle that he had performed when he was only a baby. As soon as she was old enough to count she had figured out that he would be at Hogwarts at the same time as she would, and when Ron's letters came from Hogwarts his first year reporting that he and Harry had become best friends, Ginny could hardly contain herself with excitement. But all that was over now. Ginny knew that Voldemort had kidnapped Harry at the end of the Triwizard Tournament and that Harry had managed to escape, but she didn't know the particulars, except that Voldemort had returned that night and that he had been steadily amassing power ever since. Ginny knew enough, though, to understand that Harry didn't need or want a lovesick girl mooning after him; he needed friends who would be there for him and support him. He had Ron and Hermione, and Ginny had been determined to get over her stupid crush and be there for him in the same sort of way. She made a concerted effort the past two years to act as though she no longer loved the Boy who Lived. She ruthlessly expunged any mental and physical manifestations of her crush, or at least attempted to do so. The more she pretended the easier it was, until sometimes she thought she might even be over him. And her efforts had paid off; she had finally gained admittance to their tight-knit circle. She was just as much his friend as were Ron and Hermione. Focus, she told herself. You can do this. How hard could it possibly be? She looked at the trunk and then smiled at Harry. "Can I help you carry the trunk?"

Harry was slightly startled at the sudden change in Ginny's face. One moment she had been blushing and stammering, and now she was looking directly at him, smiling and talking with confidence. "Where are we carrying it?" he asked. "All the way to Ottery St. Catchpole?"

"That would be a bit far, wouldn't it? I came by Portkey," she explained, hefting up her half of the trunk. "We decided Floo was out of the question; it was such a disaster last time. Is there any place we can stash your things for a few hours?"

"What, we're not going now?" Harry was confused.

"Well, the thing is, we weren't sure about the accuracy of the Portkey. Percy made it, and he's been pretty distracted lately with stuff at the ministry. I didn't know how far from your house it would send me, so I had him set the return time for two o'clock just in case it took me a while to find you."

"How far away were you?"

"Only about four houses down, actually," she replied.

"Well, Percy did a good job then."

"Maybe," she couldn't keep a smirk off her face, "but he swore up and down that I'd land on your front porch. It's close enough, I suppose, but it'll drive Perce crazy when I tell him!" Her statement reminded Harry strongly of Fred and George when they were plotting some kind of mischief.

Harry and Ginny dragged the trunk for a few blocks, until they came to a wall of hedges that bordered the neighborhood park. "We can hide my stuff in here," Harry offered. "Nobody will notice it." The two of them heaved the trunk into the shrubbery and then stood facing each other. Harry looked at his watch. "We have two and a half hours," he said. "Is there anything you'd like to do? Are you hungry? I'm afraid I don't have any muggle money."

Ginny's face lit up. "I have muggle money! Dad gives some to us each year in our birthday cards. Fred and George keep telling him that Galleons would be more useful, but I kind of like it." She pulled out a neatly folded stack of money. "Do you think we could get some quick food? Dad's told me all about it. You order your meal and they have it ready right away! I'd love to see how muggle ovens work so fast; I can't imagine them making a whole meal in just a few seconds. These quick food restaurants—"

Harry cut her off. "It's called fast food. If you'd like to visit one that wouldn't be a problem, but it's not quite what you're expecting."

She beamed. "I'm sure it'll be delicious. And educational."

"You sound like Hermione," Harry teased. "Education during summer holidays?"

Harry led her to the closest fast food restaurant. It wasn't too far from the Dursleys' house, and soon he and Ginny were waiting in line. She watched everything, wide eyed with curiosity, strongly reminding Harry of himself the first time he had ever been fully immersed in the wizarding world. As they got closer to the counter, Harry quietly explained how the food was available right away. "It's pre-made, and they keep it warm under heat lamps." He motioned discreetly towards the rows of hamburgers sitting on a shelf.

Ginny looked confused. "So they're ready when you order because they've already been made? I thought it was called quick food because it was cooked quickly. You must think I'm an idiot." She looked faintly embarrassed.

"It's okay," Harry smiled reassuringly. "I didn't know anything about the wizarding world when I first got there. You know more about Muggles than lots of witches your age."

They ordered their food and sat in a booth. Ginny didn't like it much, but she didn't want to complain. She choked down as much of her cheeseburger as she could, but the whole thing was so bland and greasy that she couldn't help pulling a face. Harry laughed. "It's not quite what you were expecting?"

"Do Muggles actually enjoy this stuff? It's disgusting!"

"Well, you don't have to finish it. Let's go do something else." Harry checked the time. They still had almost two hours to fill before the Portkey sent them to The Burrow.

"Can we go to some of the stores that we passed on the way here?" Ginny asked hopefully. Harry didn't remember any stores of interest. They had passed a grocery store and an electronics warehouse but there weren't any bookshops or clothing boutiques on this street. Ginny looked so eager, though, that he agreed right away.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to laugh his head off. Ginny was so excited to see the laser scanners in the grocery store checkout lines that she stood and watched the cashiers for half an hour, an expression of amazement on her face. She used the last of her Muggle money to buy an issue of Vogue, staring in wonder as the clerk rang up her purchase. When they went to the electronics store, Ginny's face shone with delight as she examined televisions, VCRs, CD players, and household appliances. She asked the salesman a million questions about plugs, electricity, and the insides of the machines. It was funny to Harry that she could be so fascinated with ordinary household items, but he figured that she would have thought the same of him during his first trip to Diagon Alley.

Ginny couldn't get over how wonderful everything was. She wished that she had four more hours to spend in that electronics store, and she was mad at herself for not bringing a quill and parchment to take notes on everything she saw. She didn't want to leave out anything when she told her father all about the machines and how they worked. And she couldn’t wait to get home and pore over her magazine, learning about Muggle fashion and looking at the strange pictures that didn’t move. Soon, though, they had to head back to the park.

Harry's trunk was still hidden in the bushes where they left it, so they tugged it out and sat it on the sidewalk. Ginny pulled out the Portkey, a small wooden box. She frowned for a moment. "If we set the box on top of your trunk and we both touch the lid, everything should come along just fine, don't you think?"

Harry agreed, and so they checked the street for muggles and set up the box for transport. Suddenly, Harry began to laugh. It was so unlike any laughter Ginny had heard from him in almost two years—this was a laugh of joy, of pure happiness. "What's so funny?" she asked, smiling at the way his face lit up, his astonishingly green eyes dancing with delight. This was one of those times she was finding it hard to forget how she felt.

"It's just now hitting me that I'm never coming back!" he exclaimed, a giant smile on his face. "After this school year, I'll be a fully trained wizard. I can live on my own, and I never ever ever have to…." He trailed off, tipping his face up to the sun and sending a short prayer of thanks to whichever god it was that watched over unhappy and neglected children. He had finally made it.

Ginny was happy to see him look so carefree and she thrilled to the sound of his laughter—it had been a sound she, Ron, and Hermione had sorely missed these past few years. But she couldn't help but think that there was nothing funny about Harry's joy. It made her sad that anyone could be so happy to leave his home, and so determined never to return. She squeezed his hand and said only, "I'm happy that you're happy." Then she pulled out her watch and counted down to two o'clock. "Three, two, one…"

Harry felt the familiar pulling sensation that came with traveling by Portkey and then he felt his feet touch the ground again. He let go of the box and looked up to see Ron and Mr. Weasley dashing out of the house, big smiles on their faces. Mr. Weasley patted him on the shoulder. "Good to see you, Harry," he said. "So glad you could come." Then he turned to Ginny and demanded, "Tell me everything! Don't leave anything out. Did you see anything that runs on eckeltricity? Did you eat quick food? What was it like?"

Ginny laughed. Her dad was so excited by Muggles and Muggle things, but he didn't really understand them very well. Still, she was bursting to tell him all about the things she saw and learned that afternoon, so, without sparing Harry and her brother a single backward glance, she walked off with her father toward his workshop.

Ron picked up one end of Harry's trunk and helped him carry it to the house. "So how was the afternoon? Did Ginny trip all over her feet? I wanted to come too, but mum wouldn't let me."

"She was fine, Ron." Although he would never admit it to her, Harry had recognized the enormous effort it had taken Ginny to overcome her feelings for him and settle for just being his friend. He didn't tolerate her brothers' teasing, but that didn't stop them from doing it. "You know that she's finally gotten over the crush-thing," Harry continued, looking over his shoulder at Ginny and her father. Her voice drifted back to him, "Dad, it's called fast food, not quick food, and the hamburgers are made before you even get to the restaurant!"

"No! Really?" Mr. Weasley was shocked.

Harry looked back at Ron. "It's about time, I guess," Harry said. "I mean, she'd been at it for three years. She had to get over it sometime."

With those words, something in his chest tightened. He had never acknowledged out loud that Ginny no longer had feelings for him. Sure, he had noticed, but he had never said anything about it. For the first time he wondered if maybe Ginny had found someone else. Harry had never had a girlfriend; he and every female student at Hogwarts knew that any potential girlfriend of his would be in danger and, anyway, even if some girl with a death wish ever expressed interest he would have no way to tell whether she liked him for himself or because he was the wizarding world's biggest celebrity. And let's face it, it's not as though girls are falling from the sky, he thought ruefully. Although he had a growth spurt his fifth and sixth years that put him, at six feet even, just two inches shorter than Ron, and Quidditch practice had filled out his frame, he still saw himself as a gawky, skinny midget with broken glasses. At best, he felt awkward around girls, except for Hermione and Ginny. All of these factors had combined to ensure that he'd never had a serious girlfriend. Ron and Hermione had each other, but as far as he knew, Ginny had never had a serious boyfriend either, and he was absurdly glad about that, although he always pushed those feelings to the back of his mind where he wouldn't have to examine them too closely. "We had fun, actually," Harry continued. "You should have seen the way she scared my uncle!" He started the story as he and Ron carried the trunk upstairs.

* * * * *

"Hermione's here too," Ron said as he and Harry entered the violently orange room. "She made Head Girl this year. She's at the store with Mum, but she should be back any minute. Dumbledore reckoned she was safer with us than with the Muggles."

Harry froze, dropping his end of the trunk, and stared at his best friend. Ron sighed.

"Sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have said it like that."

"She wasn't safe at her house because of Voldemort," Harry said slowly, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Actually, Dumbledore said that it was because…." Ron trailed off, unable to think of a good lie. "Um, actually, yeah. He said that we should take some extra precautions because we're your friends. But we're doing that, Harry! It's okay, I promise. Don't look like that."

This is all because of me!" Harry's hands began to tremble, and he clasped them behind his back so Ron wouldn't see. "You and Hermione wouldn't be in danger if you weren't friends with me." He had a sudden, terrible mental image of Ron and Hermione lying on the ground, eyes wide open in fear, just like Cedric Diggory had been after Voldemort killed him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Don't look at it like that--," Ron began, but Harry interrupted him. "Then how should I look at it, Ron? This thing with Voldemort, this is my fight, not yours or Hermione's. I can't let you risk your lives for me." Harry took a deep breath. "When we get to school, maybe…maybe you shouldn't spend time with me anymore." It was the hardest thing he had ever said; Ron and Hermione were his first real friends. He cared for them more than he cared for anyone else and he didn't know what he would do without them, but he told himself that it would be selfish of him to want them to stick around when being his friend meant being a walking target for Death Eaters.

"Is that what you want, Harry?"

Both boys turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway looking concerned, and a little sad. "Is that what you want? For us to not hang around you anymore?"

"I'm serious," Harry replied. He'd wanted to forget about Voldemort while at the Burrow, but that plan had been shot to hell within ten minutes and now he was giving vent to all of his fears, not for himself, but for the lives of his best friends. The fact that Dumbledore had sent Hermione to the Burrow made him realize something he had pushed out of his mind before: Hermione and Ron were in danger because he cared about them. He was determined to do anything it took to make them safe again. "You two could get hurt, or even killed because of me. I don't want…I just couldn't live with myself if something happened to either of you. It would be my fault."

"Do you think we would just abandon you like that?" Ron asked angrily. "Don't be a prat, Harry. You're our friend. We're not going to drop you because of stupid bloody You-Know-Who."

"Hermione had to leave her house because she wasn't safe there!" Harry shouted. "Once we get to Hogwarts, you two can't be seen anywhere near me, so you'd better leave me alone. I won't let you put yourselves in danger by being my friends." With that, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

Hermione looked at Ron. "Does he really want us to stop being friends with him?"

"He thinks he does," he replied, sitting on the bed and putting his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do." Ron looked dejected and confused. "I wish there was some way to make him understand that you and I…. He's such a stubborn prat!"

Hermione sat down next to him and threaded her fingers through his. She and Ron had been bickering since she arrived, as usual. Not even dating for a year and a half had put a stop to that. But now, united in their concern for Harry, they weren't fighting for the first time in over a week. "He is a stubborn prat," she agreed. "But he'll come around. In the meantime, we're not going to abandon him."

"Of course not," Ron answered. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "We're going to go on like everything is normal."

"But everything isn't normal, Ron, and we're not going to do Harry any favors by pretending that it is. There's a crazed psychopath who might want to kill us because we're friends with him. What we have to do is find a way to show Harry that we don't care about that. We could explain that we're not going to leave him, no matter what he says."

Ron thought for a moment. She had a point. "We tried explaining that, just now. Since he didn't believe us when we told him, what we have to do is show him. Maybe we should just pretend that the conversation never happened. You know, go on like everything is normal between the three of us. He'll eventually realize that we don't care about You-Know-Who."

"Now that," Hermione said, kissing Ron's freckly nose, "sounds like a plan."

* * * * *

Harry, completely oblivious to his friends' concern, came barreling down the stairs and into the kitchen, almost running Mrs. Weasley over.

"Hello, Harry, dear," she said, scooping him into a hug. Harry froze in surprise. Mrs. Weasley had hugged him several times before, but he wasn't used to being touched and so it always caught him off guard. "You must be starving," she said, attempting to smooth his hair down. "Dinner's ready. Why don't you run out back and call Ginny inside for me." She turned back to the stove.

"Um, okay," Harry replied, still thinking about Ron and Hermione.

He wandered into the backyard and looked around for Ginny. She wasn't there. He sighed and started towards the back fence, but stopped short when he nearly walked into two bare feet dangling out of a tree. Harry looked up in surprise and saw Ginny sitting on a tree house platform about seven feet above the ground, her legs hanging over the side.

"Hey, Ginny," Harry called. She didn't answer. He moved a little closer and saw that she was engrossed in a book and obviously hadn't heard. "Ginny," he called a little louder. Still no answer. Hermione was sometimes like that; when she was reading she became deaf to the world around her. Apparently Ginny was the same way.

Harry reached out and tugged on her ankle. She gave a little shriek of surprise, and looked over the edge of the platform. "Oh, Harry! It's only you!"

Harry felt a bit miffed. "Only me?"

"Yeah, only you," Ginny teased. "What're you doing out here?"

"Your mum wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready."

"I'll be right down." Ginny dropped a rope ladder and scrambled to the ground with surprising speed. "It was Fred and George's when they were little," she said, nodding up at the platform. "I go up there to read quite a bit."

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, but he didn’t really care. He was playing the conversation with Ron and Hermione over in his head, feeling depressed at the thought of a year without them, but satisfied that they were both as safe from Voldemort as they could be.

"It's really funny," Ginny replied, her face lighting up. "It's about a Muggle named Arthur Dent and his friend Ford…." she trailed off, seeing that Harry was a million miles away.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied. "We'd better get inside."

Ginny leaned against the tree. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you've just lost your best friend."

"That about sums it up," he answered, looking at the ground.

Ginny sucked in a breath. "What's Ron done now? You know how he is, Harry. I'm sure that whatever he said, he didn't mean it. If you go back in and talk to him—"

"It's not that, Gin," Harry interrupted. "He told me how Dumbledore sent Hermione here because she wasn't safe with the Muggles."

"Well, yeah, but I don't see how—"

"So, I never realized before that they're in danger because of me," he interrupted again.

"Never?" she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess It just never registered before," he looked at the ground and shook his head. "I've been in denial. Anyway, I told them both that once school starts I don't want them around me anymore. I don't want their friendship if it means they're risking their lives."

"I bet they didn't like that," Ginny replied quietly.

"Ron called me a prat," Harry said ruefully, running his fingers through his hair. "But it's the best thing."

"For who?" If Harry had been looking at her he would have seen that she was just barely containing her temper.

"For them! For you! Don't you see that Voldemort is after them and it's all because of me!"

"I know that Voldemort is after them, Harry. Ron might be your friend, but he's my brother." Ginny was still speaking in a dangerously quiet tone.

"Well then you understand why I did it."

"I understand perfectly, Harry." Ginny couldn't believe she was about to do this, but how many times in the past two years had she had promised herself that she would give Harry what he needed? Right now he needed a kick in the head. But she would settle for a lecture.

Ginny pushed away from the tree so that she was standing almost toe to toe with Harry, looked up into his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Look, none of this is your fault. Do you understand me? None. You didn't kill Cedric, Voldemort did. If something happens to Ron or Hermione, it'll be because Voldemort ordered it, not because of anything you've done. You cannot accept blame for his actions."

Harry flushed. "Well, then you understand why I can't let them be my friends anymore. It would be selfish of me "

"Selfish?" Ginny demanded. "It couldn't possibly be as selfish as what you're asking them to do now."

"I told them to stay away from me so they would be safe!" Harry was angry now. He bent down until his nose was only a few inches away from hers. "They're my best friends, Ginny. What I did was the exact opposite of selfish! I can't keep them in my life when they might get hurt. Do you have any idea what it would do to me if something happened to one of them?"

He was beginning to intimidate her a bit, but she didn't show it. "Then don't try to tell me that you sent them away for their own good," Ginny said, drawing herself up as tall as she could. "You sent them away because if something happened to them it would hurt you. You don’t want them to help you because you might be hurt, and that's selfish."

"Voldemort is after you because of me," he insisted, not knowing whether he meant all of them or just her. She laid her palm on his arm and he felt the anger and fear drain out of him, as though he had just taken a calming potion. Harry took a step back and was no longer looming over her.

"If he wasn't after them because of you, it would be because of something else," Ginny pointed out gently. "Hermione is Muggle-born. Ron and I are Weasleys, and everyone knows we're on Dumbledore's side. All three of us are in Gryffindor. Even if we weren't your friends, Voldemort would probably still be after us. It's just as much our fight as it is yours, and you can't cut us out of it. You're braver than that."

Harry didn't answer. He looked at her for a long moment, and she met his gaze although she felt strangely empty inside. Please please please don't hate me, she begged silently. I only said what you needed to hear.

"I see your point." Harry finally said. He looked down. "I guess I should talk to them after dinner."

"Yeah," Ginny replied, unsure of what to say.

"Thank you, Ginny," he said quietly.

She looked surprised. "You're welcome."

His mouth turned up at the corner in a rueful half smile. "We've been out here so long; your mum probably thinks that I got lost. We'd better go eat."

They walked inside together, Ginny elated that she stood up to Harry without stuttering or making a fool of herself and Harry relieved that he wouldn't have to face Voldemort without Ron and Hermione after all.

Their smiles faded as they entered the kitchen. Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione were sitting around the table looking stricken, and Mr. Weasley was standing in front of the fire, his face creased with worry. Mrs. Weasley cried quietly. Dumbledore's head was in the flames, and he was saying, "Nobody could've seen it coming. They hit without any warning."

"What's happened?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"There's been a Death Eater attack," Ron whispered, sounding choked. "A bad one."

"They said," George began, and he stopped to swallow hard. "They said that Mad-Eye Moody is missing."

* * * * *

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