Moon River

Moon River

By Harry and Ginny 4eva

~ Man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell ~ Jean Paul Richter

Chapter I - Farewell

It's funny how sometimes, in the darkest moments, one can draw strength from despair, love from hate and lucidity from pain.

It's not simple, of course; it takes years of practice, months of pain, days of anger, minutes of insanity, and one single second where it all begins.

Harry Potter had had all of it. The practice, the pain, the anger, even the insanity, all coming down to one single second, one single green flash. One single life taken.

It wasn't easy, dealing with it all, but Harry Potter was no longer a child. He didn't refuse his food, didn't lock himself up in his room, and didn't cry himself to sleep. Only those who looked deep into his emerald eyes noticed the hopelessness and the despair that threatened to thwart him.

It was already mid-July, and Harry was patiently waiting to be released from the house where he grew up. Frequent visits from Ron and Hermione, who were not allowed by either Mrs. Weasley or the Dursleys to stay over at Harry's, were uplifting, and made him miss the hectic day life of the Burrow.

Sighing, Harry lifted one of his jeans and tossed it into his trunk. It was truly time to say goodbye. He had been dreaming about this since the day he was able to start thinking for himself.

Harry looked round the room; everything was in place. For once, the room was truly organized. How many days of pain has he endured in here? Far more than he could count.

In the last couple of days, he tried to bring up some good memories from his stay at the Dursleys, but he couldn't come up with one. He tried to find some good corners in the room he currently stayed in, but only found the loose floorboard under his bed.

He won't miss this place. Not the Dursleys, the room, Mrs. Figg, nothing.

Harry sighed again and looked at his watch. The Order should pick him up in ten minutes. He got up, took his trunk, and opened his door.

Immediately, the smell of roast beef reached his nostrils. Pushing aside his hunger, he slowly walked downstairs, wishing with his every might that he would never see this place again.

As if waiting for it, Aunt Petunia walked stiffly out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, as she got closer to Harry, and for the first time, Harry noticed he was now several inches taller than she was.

"Leaving, aren't you?" asked Aunt Petunia haughtily.

Harry only nodded. Giving her a hug seemed too much; she didn't deserve it. Not once did she hug him or offer him comfort. Not once did she treat him as her own.

"Thanks for everything," said Harry, finding it hard to thank her for nothing.

Yet, Harry considered himself as an adult, and that meant that sometimes he would have to say things he didn't really mean, just for the sake of politeness.

"Aren't you going to wait for your uncle?" asked Petunia, as if she had never heard him.

Harry had to fight the urge to start yelling at her. Why should he wait for the man who made his life so miserable?

"No, the Order is going to pick me up any time now," said Harry.

They passed several moments staring at each other, and then the doorbell rang and made Aunt Petunia jump several inches into the air and clutch her chest.

"Moment!" she shrilled.

Harry picked up his trunk and started moving towards the entrance when he heard Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Dursley. I'm sure you remember me, I'm Arthur Weasley, Ron's father."

Aunt Petunia didn't offer her hand.

"Hello," she said coolly.

"Ah, and good afternoon, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, turning to look at Harry with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Good afternoon Mr. Weasley, how are we going to The Burrow?" asked Harry with a smile.

"Side-Along-Apparition," said Mr. Weasley. Harry grimaced and Arthur laughed. "Yes, it is rather unpleasant, isn't it? No matter, you will get used to it, and it gets better with time."

Aunt Petunia coughed, making Harry and Mr. Weasley's smiles to vanish.

"Yes, well, are you going to say goodbye?" asked Mr. Weasley politely.

"I'll see you, Aunt Petunia," said Harry, looking into her eyes.

Without looking back, Harry stepped outside the house and closed the door behind him, leaving his slightly regretful aunt by herself.

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes as Harry and Mr. Weasley walked to the Apparition point.

"So..." started Harry. "How's the wedding planning goes?"

"Very well," said Arthur with a small smile. "The Delacours are already in the Burrow and settled in their tents."

Harry blinked. He forgot Fleur's family is supposed to come.

"Where is the wedding going to take place?" Harry asked.

"In the field near our house," said Mr. Weasley. "Fleur insisted on a wedding outside, although Molly didn't like the idea."

"I can imagine," said Harry with a small laugh. Molly and Fleur never got along very well, and Harry heard from Hermione and Ron about their bickering over small things like how many dishes to serve, what color the napkins should be and what the sitting arrangement was going to be.

"Fleur wanted some house-elves to bring the food to the tables, but Molly didn't like the idea of someone else dealing with the food besides her," said Arthur in exhaustion. "She eventually bent and let her have the house-elves."

Harry was surprised, "Mrs. Weasley actually gave in?"

Arthur laughed, "Surprising, isn't it?"

Harry had to admit that was unexpected. "What made her give in?"

"Bill had to interfere," explained Arthur. "Asked Molly to let Fleur have the wedding she wants. Molly cried a bit over it, but eventually she understood. Oh, here we are."

Harry looked around. They were in an abandoned alley right next to his elementary school. He used to hide in this alley from Dudley and his gang when he was little.

Harry smiled grimly and grabbed Mr. Weasley's arm. Harry felt the familiar feeling of choking, as if he was forced through a rubber tube and within less than a second, he opened his eyes to see his second favorite place in the world; The Burrow.