Soul Weaver

It was not long after the fateful night when Severus and Narcissa had completed the Unbreakable Vow. Early on the morning of July fourth, the sun began to peek over the horizon in a small neighborhood inhabited almost exclusively by Muggles.

The only exception to that was a wizard named Harry Potter. He opened his eyes as the faint light of morning peeked through the holes in the thin material covering the window.

Harry did not think he could stand to stay at Privet Drive any longer. He had planned on staying no more than two weeks, but now he did not think he would make it to the end of this first week.

Upon arriving at his aunt and uncle’s home, Uncle Vernon had laid into him with questions:

‘Where is the house that man Dumbledore talked about you owning?’
‘When are you leaving?’

Vernon even went so far as to start talking about Harry reimbursing them for the care and protection they had given him over the years.

Harry did not exactly agree with him that they had given him either of those things and eventually they both had resorted to yelling at each other. So Harry just locked himself in his room because he just did not care about talking at any length to his uncle. So he avoided going out, but the fact was there was someone he did not want to avoid any longer.

Aunt Petunia was a different matter all together. When Uncle Vernon was off to work and Dudley was out of the house, Harry tried to question her. It was the first time Harry had ever really pressed the issue of asking about his parents and he was not willing to back down.

She was stubborn and reluctant to answer him. He was surprised to see, after badgering her for about thirty minutes with questions about his mother, Petunia Dursley had burst into tears and begged him to leave her alone.

Harry knew there was no love lost between Petunia and him, and he also knew there was no love lost between the sisters, his mother and her. Yet Petunia’s emotional outburst and tears made him reluctant to question her further so he left her alone.

Now, in the early morning light of July fourth, he listened to the sound of Uncle Vernon and Dudley milling about outside in the hallway. Dudley was going with his father somewhere and Harry could hear him grumbling about having to get up so early.

About twenty minutes later Harry heard the sound of the car pulling out of the drive. Harry waited another twenty minutes, just lying in bed thinking of nothing in particular. A knock at his door made him sit up quickly as the door slowly opened. Petunia stood in the doorway and she seemed quite pale and distracted.

“Your uncle wants me to find out - when are you leaving?” she asked softly, not meeting his gaze.

“I--soon … I think,” he stammered. She seemed uncomfortable and gripped the door handle tightly. After a moment she moved into the room and closed the door behind her.

“Your mother wrote to me … when you were born. She wanted to meet me and … wanted to work things out between us,” Petunia admitted quite unexpectedly. She had stopped to stand at the end of his bed when she said this. “She wrote to me again … later on, and said that … bad things were happening and she was afraid for you, and for herself,” she added timidly and stared blankly towards the window.

“Did you write back to her?” Harry asked. He felt awkward to be hearing this information now and was not sure how to take it. He also wondered what had made her decide to tell him.

“No … I did not write back to her,” she answered; her voice shook as if there were emotions she was trying to hide.

“Did you know she and my father were being hunted by a man who just wanted to kill them and me?” he asked calmly.

“NO!” Petunia cried and now turned her head to look at him again. “She … she never explained it and … I never heard from her again … and then it happened,” she explained.

“It happened … you mean they were murdered?” Harry questioned, still very calm despite how he felt about what she was telling him. Petunia closed her eyes a moment and then gave a sigh. She opened her eyes again and glared at him.

“I didn’t know about all that!” she snapped. “I simply wanted a normal life and I didn’t want to be involved with those kinds of people … all those strange people …”

“Don’t you understand?” he complained, cutting her off. “Don’t you think I want a normal life?” Harry asked angrily, unable to control his feelings any longer. “Don’t you think my mother and father wanted a normal life? Do you really think they wanted to be murdered!?” he asked in a heated tone.

She turned and seemed to get ready to leave and not want to say anything further to him.

“Please! … wait …” he begged and moved quickly to grab her hand to keep her from leaving. “I just … I need to know,” Harry said softly. She did not try to pull away but she also would not look at him.

“I don’t hate you,” Harry offered gently. “But can’t you understand? I’m no different from you … I can do magic, but I still have feelings like you,” he explained in a passionate tone. “I want a normal life like you, I want to be happy and feel wanted just like you do,” he continued, his voice filled with emotions he never thought he had about her. “You’ve never treated me like I was your nephew … . At least tell me about her or … give me something to show me you don’t hate me.”

“I can’t,” she replied shrilly and pulled her hand out of his.

“Why?” he pleaded. She turned to stare at him for a moment silently.

“If I … if I had just replied to her letter …” Petunia stammered, but she stopped and seemed stricken with emotion. She hurried from the room without looking back.

Harry sat there for a long time and considered what she had just said. He had always thought Petunia hated him and hated his mother, but maybe it was not that simple.

He got up a little while later, and after dressing he went downstairs.

Petunia sat in the kitchen and ignored him. He made himself something to eat and she made no comment or complained that he better clean up after himself. He sat down and ate his breakfast in silence and still she continued to ignore him.

After a while of ignoring each other she pushed what looked like a very old worn shoebox towards him. He stared at it and was ready to say something to her, but she got up and left the kitchen without saying anything.

Harry stared at the box a long time before he reached out to touch it. He pulled it into his lap and took off the lid. He stared down at the contents curiously.

Inside were what appeared to be papers, letters, photographs and various other little things. The first item that caught his eye was the photograph on top of the pile. It appeared to be his mother at a very young age holding up some sort of ribbon she had won for something. She might have been seven or eight years old; he was not sure.

Next were various photographs of his mother and what Harry assumed were his grandparents and Aunt Petunia. One was a group shot of all of them together, some were just of Lily and some were of Petunia and Lily together.

He scanned each picture curiously and wondered how they felt about each other in these pictures. Most were of Petunia and Lily when they were very young. He did not see any photographs of them where they were teenagers or older, but in these pictures they seemed to like each other. Once he had gone through every photograph, he reached in to pull out the first envelope.

Harry recognized it right away: it was the Hogwarts acceptance letter and it looked a lot like his. He read it over and studied his mother’s name a moment, then he wondered why Petunia had his mother’s Hogwarts letter.

He pulled out another letter and took it out of its envelope. He felt a little thrill of excitement as he read it.

Dear Petunia,

Are you still annoyed with me? I don’t know why you were so angry, but when I come home for holiday I want us to make up and be like sisters again. We never fought that much when we were younger, can’t we be friends again?

I like the school very much and am glad to know that all that strange stuff I could do when we were little means something.

There is a boy here in school, he’s really nice looking but he is annoying too. He keeps showing off everything he can already do with magic. His parents are both magical, so I suppose he thinks he knows more than me because mine are not.

Some people don’t like me and call me a name I don’t understand - mudblood. I asked one of the other girls what it meant and she said it was because my parents are both Muggles. That’s what a person with no magical ability is called, isn’t it a funny name?

Well, I hope you are okay and school is going well for you. See you soon.

Your Sister,
Lily

This was his mother’s writing and this was a letter she had touched and written. All her feelings and thoughts right there in front of him. It was wonderful and at the same time depressing. He folded it back up and opened the next one.

The next letter was simply his mother asking his Aunt Petunia why she had not written. To him his mother sounded disappointed and upset that Petunia had not written back to her. The next letter was very similar asking the same question, ‘Why haven’t you written back to me yet?’

The next three were similar, but his mother was writing about things he understood: Hogwarts, magic, teachers; things he remembered from his own first year at Hogwarts. Each letter though had the same thing in common. ‘Why haven’t you written to me? Why are you still annoyed with me?’

They were all very faded and yellow. The next one he pulled out looked a little newer though it was also yellow with age. He opened it and began to read. Harry realized this was one of the letters his aunt had mentioned to him earlier, in his room.

Dear Petunia,

I know I haven’t written to you in a long time and I also know you said you and Vernon did not want anything to do with us. However, I wanted to tell you that I have had a child and that I have named him Harry.

I never knew it would be so wonderful, I never knew I could love someone so much. He looks like his father very much and right now he’s sleeping. I’m glad to hear that you and your baby are doing well and I’m sure you are feeling just like me about your little boy.

I’d love to be able to see you and him and I thought maybe you might like to see me and Harry.

I know that things changed between us for whatever reason, but please Petunia can’t we make up now and try to be sisters again? I’d like to see you just to know you’re doing alright. Please write back to me.

Your Sister,
Lily Potter

Harry felt a sting of regret he had never really felt before. She had just spoken about him and she had said she loved him. Harry folded the letter and closed his eyes a moment to get his emotions under control. It was not his mother telling him she loved him, but it was as close as he would ever come to it.

No matter what he felt about his aunt all these years, he knew that if she had not given him this box of letters he would have never read those words. He opened his eyes and reached into the box and pulled out the final letter. He held it up a moment and realized it was the very last one, the last link to his mother’s own personal words and thoughts.

He quickly opened it and began to read the fearful letter.

Petunia,

I need to see you, please write back to me and say I can come to see you. Something very bad is happening and I can’t write about it in a letter.

I’m so scared and I’ve never been so scared. Please, Petunia.

If not for me, then please do it for my son. He’s just a baby and innocent and there are things happening I can’t control. I need to see you. Please write to me as soon as you get this, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to write to you again or get your letter if you delay too long.

Lily

By the way the handwriting appeared, it had been written quite quickly. Harry wondered when his mother had written it, and how long after it was written did his parents go into hiding.

Harry had never felt so alone in that moment. Most of his life he had been an outcast; even at Hogwarts and in the magical community he was either viewed with wary regard or an embarrassing amount of hero worship by students and adults. Not to mention those people that hated him and wanted him dead.

This letter though, it made his mother more real to him than she had ever been; somehow he could almost see her writing these letters and especially this last one. He did not even realize it until it happened - a sob escaped him and he rubbed at his eyes as tears began to fall on their own.

Harry quickly folded the letter and closed the box. He stood up and made sure to clean up his dishes before he left the kitchen. He grabbed up the box and headed upstairs. He packed quickly and made sure the room was spotless and tidy before he dragged all his things out.

Once he got everything downstairs with his belongings, he paused. Petunia stood staring at him in the kitchen doorway.

“You’re leaving now?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” was all he could bring himself to say.

“I can’t give you any money,” she stated but would not meet his gaze as she said it.

“I have my own. My mother and father made sure I’d not go hungry,” he replied. She met his gaze now and her frown deepened a little.

“The man that killed my parents is still after me. Once I leave, I can’t say that he might not come here looking for me,” Harry explained. Petunia went as white as a ghost.

“W-what … what should we do?” she asked desperately, seeming for the first time to care about what he said or what his opinion was.

“I think you should leave. Uncle Vernon will not pay any attention to me … I don’t know if he’ll listen to you, but I think it would be best if all of you go somewhere far away,” Harry answered.

To him, Petunia seemed torn; she looked as if she was lost and did not know what to say or do. Harry moved forward to stand directly in front of her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she jerked in surprise from the contact.

“Whatever you think about me, I’m not lying about this … Voldemort wants me dead and he might use you against me,” Harry explained. She seemed stricken and gave a sob of fear.

“Promise me you will do as I ask, Aunt Petunia … You must make Uncle Vernon listen to you,” Harry ordered. After a few long moments of staring into his eyes she finally nodded.

With that there was nothing else to say; he turned and gathered his possessions and left number four Privet Drive for the last time. He would never return to this house again, he vowed, never.



Mrs. Molly Weasley sat in her kitchen busying herself with the mundane tasks of the everyday life of a housewife. Even in a time of war, someone had to do the cooking and cleaning, and after six children she was one of those women who could handle many tasks at a time with little stress; being a witch with magical ability did not hurt though.

The thing that had changed in her normal life was the fact that there was a war going on. She and Arthur, her husband, had put more wards and protection on the house and area around it. One could not be too careful, especially because they were associated closely with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. It made them a target for those that supported You-Know-Who.

Molly worried about her children and also Harry, since he was now like one of her own. She thought it was best to try and put it out of her mind, but the more she tried to not think about it, the more she actually did.

A sudden ringing like a small bell caught her off guard and she dropped a dish she had been getting ready to stack on top of the others. It cracked and she waved her wand to repair it before she walked cautiously towards the door.

Someone had passed by one of the wards that Arthur had placed near the house. It was harmless, but it let her know when anyone with magic approached the house. Her husband was actually very talented when he actually sat down and made something. Many times she wished he would put his mind and time to use being creative, instead of wasting his life at the Ministry or tinkering in his shed.

All these thoughts happened in a manner of seconds because she was more worried as to who could possibly be approaching the house. It could be a friend but it could just as easily be someone who was not.

She peered out the window and her eyes widened when she saw a boy who appeared almost a man now striding down the road towards the house. His wild, unmanageable black hair and easily recognized glasses made it unmistakable who it was, even at this distance.

At first she could not believe it. He came all this way alone!? Was this a trick? She moved to the door and opened it cautiously. Harry got ready to come through the gate but she waved brusquely for him to stop.

They both stared at each other warily. Molly hesitated because she was not sure if it was actually him; Harry held back because she pointed her wand as if expecting him to attack her. She stopped at the gate and watched him cautiously for a few moments.

“Ah … is, everything alright, Mrs. Weasley?” Harry asked a little worried. He waved his wand, causing his trunk and other things to settle gently down on the ground beside him.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley proclaimed when she was sure it must be him. “What are you doing here!?” she asked shrilly, moving to open the gate. She stared down at his trunk and all his things.

“I--I’ve come to visit. That is, if that is alright?” Harry replied. He suddenly felt a little worried. Her tone suggested she was upset with him, her face also was quite stern and she looked as if she might want to yell at him.

“Of course you can stay!” she answered as she pulled the gate open and grabbed him. She pulled him into her arms for a tight but swift hug. “But dear, how did you get here?” she asked as she pulled away from the hug. She still held onto his shoulders and was staring into his eyes intently. “Did someone go and fetch you?” she pressed as she glanced around as if expecting to see someone.

“I flew here alone and …”

“Harry,” she cut in harshly. Harry grimaced because she also was frowning at him as if disappointed with him. “You must promise me that you will not go off alone again. You must let someone know where you are at all times. You must promise me that right now!” she ordered.

He got the feeling now that she was angry with him for a different reason than what he had thought at first. He had feared when she seemed angry that they might not want anything to do with him. He did not know why he had thought that, as he had for the longest time considered the Weasleys as his family, or at least as close to being one as he would ever have.

“I didn’t think about it, I just had to leave there,” he said softly. Mrs. Weasley’s expression softened a little but it still held a sternness that only a mother of many children could have.

“It is too dangerous now, Harry. Please promise me that you will always be sure to let someone in the Order know where you are at all times. I want you to keep someone with you whenever you go out,” she stated.

“I-I promise,” he stammered and nodded. She smiled and seemed to be relieved. She backed up and allowed him to enter through the gate. She waved her own wand and his things floated along behind them as they walked up to the house. His belongings floated inside the house and settle down on one side of the kitchen. Harry and Mrs. Weasley both then entered the house. To Harry it seemed unusually quiet as he moved to stand beside the kitchen table.

“Where is everyone?” asked Harry as he sat down.

“Arthur is at work, he and Bill come home together,” she began. “Charlie is actually upstairs asleep; he just got in late last night. He’s come home for the wedding,” she explained brightly. “Fleur and her sister took Ginny to try on dresses for the wedding - she wants Ginny to be a member of the wedding party,” Molly said proudly.

“I made Ron go with them. I think he was a little annoyed to go with the girls, but I’d rather he was with them, just to be safe,” she went on. “He seemed unhappy about it, but he did brighten up a little when he found out he would also be in the wedding party and get new dress robes,” she finished.

“I’ve never been to a wedding before,” Harry admitted, as Mrs. Weasley moved to sit down at the table with him.

“Fleur asked if you might like to be a member of the wedding party as well. I’m sure Bill wouldn’t mind it at all,” Molly informed cheerfully.

“Ahh … I … what would I have to do?” he asked cautiously.

“Oh it’s nothing really, dear; usually there is a rehearsal before the wedding. Mostly you would just stand with the boys while the wedding went on. Of course when the wedding party walks out, you would probably walk with Ginny,” she explained. Harry blushed slightly and his mouth edged up on one side despite him trying to stop it.

Molly studied his face for a few moments and Harry glanced up at her nervously; he wondered what she was thinking about his reaction.

“Harry, you care about Ginny very much … don’t you?” she asked all of a sudden. It totally surprised him and he gave a great gulp as nervousness knotted his stomach. How did she know, he wondered. Had Ginny told her?

“I--yes, I do like Ginny, very much, Mrs. Weasley,” he admitted. “But after Dumbledore … .after it happened,” Harry could still not bring himself to say it out loud. It was still too real and made him too emotionally raw. “After that, Ginny and I decided to …”

“Pretend not to like each other,” she finished for him and then she smiled at him gently.

He nodded. “I don’t want her to get hurt. I’m afraid Voldemort will try to use her against me if he knows,” explained Harry. He paused a moment and worry began to flood his mind.

“I told my aunt to make my uncle take them somewhere … what he if doesn’t?” Harry worried aloud. “I can’t protect everyone!” he declared, his voice had become stressed and a little desperate. The more he now thought about things, the more he began to realize what could happen.

“No, you can’t protect everyone, Harry … you must realize you are just one person, dear. You’re still so young and you’ve had so much on you for so long,” she soothed and reached out to grasp his hand that lay on the table.

Harry closed his eyes tightly and pressed down the emotions that welled up inside him. How was he going to fight and defeat Voldemort? Albus Dumbledore had always been there to help him along; how could the Order stay together without him? How could he, Harry, hope to defeat Voldemort when it only took Severus Snape to kill Dumbledore?

“Don’t think about it now, I want you to not worry about things we can’t change. We have a wedding to occupy us first … and even You-Know-Who had better mind his manners when a Weasley wedding is about to happen. He’d not dare interrupt that with every Weasley family member in attendance,” she warned in a slightly menacing tone.

“That’s a scary thought,” a voice said from the stairs. Molly and Harry looked up to see Charlie standing in his nightshirt looking rather sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and then stretched. “Hi there, Harry. So, you’ve come to spend the summer at the Weasley Wedding abode?” he asked playfully as he moved to sit down at the table with them.

“I suppose so,” Harry replied as Molly stood up and moved into the kitchen area.

“Hungry, dear?” she asked Charlie and he nodded quickly.

“Thanks, Mum … I’ve been dying to have a home-cooked meal for ages,” he admitted with a roguish smile at her. She simply gave a sound as if she was not going to be moved by his charm, but Harry noticed as she began to cook she had a soft smile on her face, as if she were actually very pleased by what he had just said.

While Charlie ate his meal, he and Harry chatted. After Charlie had finished, the two continued to sit and talk. They discussed dragons and Quidditch and all sorts of different things.

Harry learned that he and Charlie had a lot in common, more than he had ever realized before. So they simply sat and just talked for a long time. It took Harry’s mind off his worries and he was glad to have the distraction of someone who would actually hold a conversation without criticizing him; the time seemed to fly by. Harry heard the faint sound of a bell and he looked up and around. Charlie switched his attention to his mother and she in turn slowly moved to the window.

“What was that?” Harry asked curiously.

“It’s a ward that Dad’s put on the grounds around the house. It lets us know when someone with magic is approaching,” Charlie explained.

“It’s alright, it looks like the girls and Ron,” Molly stated. “We’ll know for sure if …” She paused a moment as she stared out the window. “Yes, it’s them. Ginny opened the gate and why, look at Ron, he is actually smiling … Ohhh and I see he has a package. Well, that is probably why,” Mrs. Weasley said, but it appeared to Harry she was talking to herself instead of him and Charlie.

“We ’ave returned!” the loud voice of Fleur Delacour called as Ron opened the door. She pushed past Ron and entered as if she owned the place. Ginny made a face as she entered, as if Fleur’s actions annoyed her a little.

“’Arry ... you are ’ere!” she proclaimed as she moved inside. Ginny and Ron came in next, along with Fleur’s little sister Gabrielle trailing behind them.

To Harry she did not look as little as he remembered; she had grown taller and if possible more beautiful than her sister.

“Harry!” Ron and Ginny both cried when they saw him. Then they both grinned and sounded equally excited to see him.

“Bonjour,” Gabrielle said softly as she walked in to stand beside her sister. She glanced over at Charlie shyly and blushed.

“Well, I better get upstairs since everyone has now seen me in my nightshirt,” Charlie stated with a mischievous grin; he quickly stood up and headed upstairs.

“When did you get here, Harry?” Ron asked as he moved to stand by Harry. The rest also gathered around him, curiosity on each of their faces. They each had a package slung under their arms and Molly also came over to stand with them.

“He turned up this morning … alone I might add,” Molly scolded. Everyone now frowned at Harry and he got the feeling he was in for another lecture about going off alone.

“It ees dangerous to travel alone. You must ’ave someone wiz you, ’Arry,” Fleur said sternly.

“Yeah, mate. You’re lucky. Quite a few people haven’t been so fortunate,” Ron stated as he sat down beside Harry and placed his package on the table.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked Ron.

“Every day the paper has news of people being attacked by something,” Ron muttered darkly. “Dementors, werewolves … rumors of Death Eaters breaking into people’s houses and forcing them to pledge loyalty to You-Know-Who,” Ron explained.

Harry paled and his eyes traveled to Ginny. Her face was etched with concern and worry. Harry now frowned and had the sudden desire to dig a hole and hide in it.

“It ees ’orrible,” Fleur proclaimed angrily. Harry watched as Gabrielle stepped closer to her sister and she also seemed disturbed by the idea of what was happening.

“While we were shopping, we were even watched suspiciously by some … new Aurors,” Ginny said in a depressive tone. The way she said new made it sound bad to Harry’s ear.

“New Aurors?” he questioned curiously.

“Yeah,” Ron began. “The Ministry has gone and sped up the process for being an Auror. Dad says they have a hundred new official Ministry Aurors, and that is just this past month,” Ron finished.

“Is that bad?” Harry asked.

“Well, it takes a long time to become an Auror,” Molly said. “And to be a very good Auror requires a lot of training. Arthur thinks that they are moving people up too fast. The problem is they are short-staffed and are not admitting to it. People are scared,” she explained.

“Dad thinks they’re going to get a bunch of young people killed,” Ginny added in a sad tone.

“Or they’re going to get a load of people they can’t depend on, or end up with people who might not really be on the right side of things,” Ron said harshly.

“So, the Ministry is screwing up again … why am I not surprised?” Harry complained darkly.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, as if Harry’s words ran true in all their minds.

Ron then seemed to remember something. “We’ve also heard some stuff about Hogwarts. It might open again … but under Ministry control,” he explained a little glumly.

Harry scowled in reaction to Ron’s information. There was no way he was going to go back to that kind of situation. He had already been through Hogwarts under Ministry control and it had been completely horrible. Every time he thought of Dolores Umbridge, he wondered who was worse: Snape or her?

“If Hogwarts reopens, all of you are going to go,” Molly stated in a sharp tone, as if she might know what Harry was thinking just by looking at his face. “The Ministry may mess up a lot of things but there are also good people working there. If you’re at school, I’ll know you’re together and safe,” she added.

“How can we be safe, Mum? Death Eaters broke in last year! How is that safe?” Ron muttered. “Dumbledore’s gone … it’s just going to be a target now, even more than before, even Dad said it,” he went on, sounding as if he did not like the idea of the Ministry running Hogwarts any more than Harry did.

“Ronald Weasley, I don’t want to hear any backtalk from you,” Molly said sternly. “You all need to finish your education … and You-Know-Who isn’t going to be used as an excuse for the rest of you NOT to go through with and complete your schooling,” she asserted.

“But Mum, how can we …”

“Fred and George already dropped out their last year,” she said loudly, overrunning Ron’s continued complaining. “But the rest of YOU are NOT … and I am serious about this,” she stated fiercely. Everyone was mute for a moment, but Harry stared at her with determination.

“I’m not going back if the Ministry is taking over,” Harry replied. He realized it was the first time he had ever openly countered anything that Mrs. Weasley had said. She stared at him and her face became very serious and stern.

“Even if you don’t like it, Harry, you are an example to the other students,” Molly began. “If you walk out and the school opens … what does that say?” she asked.

Harry’s mouth thinned out in a deep frown and he could not meet the look in her eyes any more. Everyone else was quiet and seemed to know better than to say anything to Molly at this moment.

“We all know it’s been especially hard on you, dear,” she said a little more gently, but her voice was still stern. “Harry, if you leave school, they’ll have won, because that’s what they want.” She now reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “Would Albus Dumbledore want you to drop out in your final year, just because the Ministry took over?” she asked. Harry’s frown deepened and the thought of Dumbledore made huge lumps form in his stomach.

“There are still good teachers at Hogwarts and people who want to help you--have you thought of them at all?” she challenged, and Harry slowly lifted his eyes to stare at her again. Molly gently squeezed his shoulder and then took her hand away. Harry could not speak; he knew what he should say but it was just too hard to say it.

“We’ll not talk about it any more right now,” Molly eventually said. “It’s not confirmed yet that the school will even reopen, so we shouldn’t worry about it until it happens,” she finished.

Harry nodded and Molly seemed to have nothing more to say. She turned and headed upstairs. He wondered if he had upset her and he felt a little ashamed, since what she said was right. He had not been thinking of other students or even any of his professors.

If the school closed, where would they go? He was not sure what sort of work they would do if the school closed. What if teaching was the only profession they had? What if it was their only way of earning enough money to live on?

He had never really considered why a person would teach at Hogwarts; truthfully it had not even crossed his mind until this very moment. He sat mutely for a while, thinking about Hogwarts and whether it would open again.

Fleur grabbed hold of her little sister and Ginny and dragged them away. Harry watched as the girls headed upstairs and still remained silent. Ron stared at Harry and then after a few moments Harry turned his attention to Ron.

Ron shrugged his shoulders and seemed to decide on something. He opened his box and proceeded to pull out his new dress robes. Harry studied them idly as Ron explained the events he had been through over the past few hours.

Ron’s story of shopping with three girls seemed to be both an epic and frightening adventure; Harry found himself glad that he had not arrived earlier at the Burrow.

Ron went into detail about how Fleur complained about the British clothing, but she still tried on every single dress she could get her hands on. He also told how even Ginny had turned into some sort of scary beast hunting for food.

Ron also explained about buying new dress robes because he was going to be in the wedding party, and that Fleur had said something about Harry also taking part. Harry replied that he already knew, since Molly had said something about it when he had arrived.

After a while Harry and Ron began to talk about different things, much like Harry and Charlie had done. They were so involved in their conversation that they did not see Ginny and Fleur come down the stairs.

Fleur cleared her throat and the two boys turned to see who had made the noise. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he could not - he just sat there gawking like an idiot at Ginny.

Ginny was dressed in a long flowing silken gown of a soft gold color; it was simple and had no puffy bows or gaudy lace. To Harry’s eye it was like water the way the light fell on it and caused the fabric to shimmer and shine.

Ginny was blushing almost as red as her hair.

“Is ze gown not perfect?” Fleur asked as she forced Ginny forward to show of her and the dress to Harry and Ron. “Both my bridesmaids will wear zis exact dress … and all ze men will wear black, it will be wonderful,” Fleur went on. Fleur took Ginny’s hand and spun her around. This action caused the fabric of the dress to fan out and also Ginny’s red hair to float about her face like a beautiful red waterfall.

Harry could not even hear Fleur, he had no idea what she was saying; he was too caught up in staring at Ginny. Fleur continued talking about the wedding even though Harry was not listening. Ron was making a face of annoyance as Fleur prattled on about her wedding, but Harry did not notice either of them. There was only one person in the room who was interesting and required his full attention - Ginny.

“I wish you to be one of my men of honor, ’arry … I would like you to be in the wedding … .’arry … .’ARRY!” Fleur repeated in a demanding tone.

“What? … oh … yeah … I mean yes, I’ll be in it if you want,” Harry said without even looking at Fleur; he only had eyes for Ginny. Fleur pouted slightly but then she glanced at Ginny and back at Harry. Her eyes widened as if she had suddenly realized something.

“Ginny is beautiful, yes?” Fleur commented and her mouth quirked up on one side.

“Yes, she is,” Harry stated as he stared into Ginny’s eyes. Ginny smiled back at him and seemed to light up from within because of his statement. Ron made a sound that indicated he was uncomfortable and Harry snapped out of the spell he was under.

“Come Ginny, we do not want your dress to be spoiled before ze wedding,” Fleur announced and dragged Ginny back upstairs.

“How about some Quidditch, Harry,” Ron muttered. “It looks like you need to get your mind off … certain things,” Ron added and stood up.

Harry nodded absentmindedly and followed his friend outside where they began a rather competitive Quidditch match.

Harry had a feeling Ron was trying to knock him off his broom, but as they got into the game it became more friendly.

An uneasiness had formed between him and Ron and Harry knew it was because of Ginny. Ron was trying to watch out for his little sister and Harry could not blame him; Harry knew he would do the same thing if he had a sister.

Knowing Voldemort would only use anyone Harry cared about, who would want their sister involved with him anyway? Harry did not even want to think about it all, but even Quidditch did not seem a distraction. Everyone he loved and thought of as a friend would be in danger because of association.

Harry was so distracted he and Ron almost collided in midair.

Ron pulled up his broom and landed. Harry turned back and then landed alongside Ron. He realized Ron seemed a little angry with him because of what had just happened. Harry stared down at his broom so he would not have to look at Ron’s glowering face.

“You know … it might be a good idea not to think too much about everything at once, you can get too distracted sometimes, Harry,” Ron began in a heated tone. “I know you like Ginny … I think we all know that, but I don’t want her hurt … .well … I don’t want to get flown into while you’re distracted either,” he added with humor. “You might try to keep your mind on one thing at a time,” he finished.

“I … .” Harry paused and stared back at Ron depressively. “Everyone I know is in danger … you … Hermione … your family … everyone …”

“We’d all be in danger either way,” Ron explained. “You-Know-Who isn’t going to come after us just because we’re friends,” he suggested. “Mum and Dad were in the Order of the Phoenix before, they’re already targets. That means all of us are anyway,” Ron explained. “Stop worrying about it so much … we can’t change anything right now,” he stated flatly and laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Sometimes I wish I could just run away,” Harry said despondently.

He was disappointed with himself for saying and thinking that, but it was the truth. If he could just disappear off the planet, maybe that would solve the problem? Then he thought of everyone being left to deal with Voldemort and he knew he had to face him regardless, even if he did die trying.

“Well, we’re going to France … that’ll be an interesting place to run away to,” Ron said in a sarcastic tone that meant he really did not think it was.

“Fleur … all she does is talk about it,“ Ron complained. “Bla, bla, France this … .bla, bla France that Eet ees so much betteurr zan Eenglond,” Ron mouthed in a mocking imitation of Fleur’s accent.

“France?” Harry questioned, a humor in his voice from Ron’s imitation. At first Harry was trying to figure out why they would be going to France, then he realized that was where the wedding was going to be. “Oh yeah, I hear the food is good,” Harry announced with his own humor.

“Yeah … and I’m sure Fred and George will enjoy meeting new people to sell their junk to, or at least the prospect of new people to abuse with it,” Ron muttered darkly. Harry laughed at the thought of the twins in France.

Harry had never been to France, so he was not sure what to expect from a different wizard community, he only knew England.

Then he wondered what the rest of the world was like. What were the magical communities like all over the world? He had the desire to know, maybe even travel to and explore places he had only heard about or seen in pictures.

Maybe he would, but first he had to search for Horcruxes. Who knows where Voldemort had hidden them and how long it would take him to find them all?

“Harry, there is something I need to tell you. Something I heard,” Ron said as if he was just remembering something.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s something I heard Mum and Dad talking about. They didn’t know I was listening, it was the day after we got home from Hogwarts,” Ron stated. “It was the next morning … I couldn’t sleep, I started downstairs and heard them talking … it was about Snape,” Ron confessed as if he thought Harry might not want to hear it.

At first Harry scowled bitterly and did not want to hear whatever it was, but he realized Ron would not have brought it up if it were not important. When Harry made no effort to stop Ron, he began telling Harry what he had overheard.

“I just sort of listened. I didn’t catch the beginning, but they were talking about things they’d heard about Snape … like from way back when he was a child. Dad made a statement like ‘it was bound to happen because of the example set by the adults the boy looked up to’ … then he said it …”

“It?” Harry interrupted cautiously.

“Dad said Snape’s mum, Eileen … she got sent to Azkaban for murdering her husband,” Ron announced.

Harry just stared at Ron as if he had turned purple.

“But Dad said it was rumored at the Ministry that Snape actually killed his father and that his mother took the blame for it,” Ron went on. “Then Dad started complaining about Lucius Malfoy’s family getting involved because they had at one time been friends or something to the Prince family years ago.”

Ron now paused and gave Harry a few moments to take all the information in.

“Well, we know Snape’s a murderer,” Harry began. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he let his mother take the blame for him killing his father,” Harry suggested in a bitter tone. “Lucius Malfoy would probably call Snape a hero for killing a Muggle. I’ll bet he got Snape off and helped blame it on his mum,” Harry finished in an unsettled tone.

“Dad didn’t really seem to know all the details, and Mum didn’t either. They started talking about your mum then,” Ron informed.

“Mine? Why?” Harry asked.

“Well, Mum was talking about herself first, she said she was still having a hard time believing Snape killed Dumbledore. Mum said it was because he’d been such a help to the Order the first time and over the past couple of years. She says she knows it’s true with Dumbledore being dead, but she said Lily, your mum, had trusted Snape back when the first war was going on. Mum said she heard your mum and dad one time arguing about Snape,” Ron said.

“What!?” Harry mutter.

“Mum said she heard Lily say to James, ‘she didn’t care about what Sirius said about Snape and that she trusted him.’”

“Why would my mother trust him? Well … Dumbledore trusted him and look where it got both of them, dead,” Harry concluded. Ron frowned but nodded in agreement.

“I don’t care what anyone says, I know he’s a evil git and there is no way I’m ever going to trust him. I don’t care if he had a sorry life or his mum killed his dad or whatever happened to him … he’s still a murderer and when I … when I find him …” Harry stopped because he was becoming so angry he felt like breaking his broom in half.

“Look, mate, I didn’t tell you all this to upset you, but it is important, don’t you think?” questioned Ron. “I’ll be glad when Hermione gets here - if anyone can find out what happened back then, she can,” Ron praised.

“Have you heard anything from Hermione?” Harry asked curiously. Ron’s cheeks turned slightly pinker and he fumbled with his broom nervously.

“I … wrote her a letter,” Ron admitted.

“Oh?” Harry replied, wondering why Ron seemed to take a tone that him writing Hermione a letter was a big event.

“She said she’s going to arrive in time to go with all of us to the wedding,” Ron stated and did not elaborate any further.

“Is that all she said?” Harry pressed, knowing full well if Hermione wrote a letter she had to be saying more than that.

“It was a personal letter,” Ron stated, sounding a little defensive. Harry made a face of disbelief but then grinned slightly since Ron seemed a bit shady on the details of the letter. What had Ron said to Hermione?

“Well, I’m not asking about you and Hermione’s relationship …” Harry paused and Ron’s face was now as red as his hair. “There are only so many things I can worry about and I think you two can work that out yourselves … eventually,” Harry suggested.

“RONALD WEASLEY! If you don’t hurry upstairs and clean up this disaster of a bedroom that is yours, you’ll not be going anywhere for a month of Sundays!! Now get back in the house this minute!” the angry and loud voice of Molly Weasley shouted out of the door at them.

Ron scowled and he glumly walked along to the house as Harry followed.

“I’m of age, Mum … you’d think you would treat me …”

“Don’t even start with me on that subject!” Molly cut in as she held the door open for them as they entered. “If you’re such an adult then take some responsibility for a change. What sort of girl is going to want to marry a boy who has a room not fit even for a pig?” she questioned.

Charlie was now downstairs again and was trying hard not to laugh. Molly’s voice was shrill and angry but Harry also could not help but snicker.

“And you two,” Molly muttered as her eyes darted from Charlie to Harry. “I’ll bet your rooms are no better!” she complained with frustration.

“Er, Mrs. Weasley … I don’t have a room,” Harry answered, a little worried now because of her demeanor.

“Well … yes … of course,” she spluttered and then she pointed at Ron. “You’ll be sharing his room, so half of it is now your responsibility … so … get to it. I want to be able to walk in there by the time Arthur gets home,” she insisted.

None of them decided to argue with her and Harry realized he might rather face twenty Death Eaters than such an angry woman, so he helped Ron clean his room. Harry had to admit his room had never been particularly tidy, but Ron gave new meaning to the expression ‘disaster area’.

“Wow, it’s much cleaner in here now!” Ginny proclaimed as she opened Ron’s bedroom door just enough to stick her head inside. “Mum says to come down, Dad and Bill are on the way and dinner is almost ready,” she informed as the two turned to the door.

Harry was actually pretty worn out from helping Ron tidy up. Molly had been right, the room was horrible.

Ron and he both smiled proudly at their accomplishment as they scanned the now clean room.

“I think we deserve medals,” Harry said as he and Ron moved to the door.

“I just hope Mum doesn’t open the wardrobe door,” Ron suggested as he followed out of the room.

“Good thing you put a retaining spell on the stuff inside,” Harry replied.

Ginny giggled as they all headed downstairs.

“Is the disaster area clear now?” Charlie questioned when they all arrived downstairs.

“Yes! You’d never know it was Ron’s room anymore,” Ginny replied as she moved to stand beside the kitchen table. She was grinning at Ron as he and Harry moved over by the table as well.

“Really Mum, we’re at war. Is having a clean room top priority?” Ron asked as he sat down at the table. He seemed annoyed to Harry. Ginny and Charlie appeared thoroughly amused though.

“I don’t want to hear any backtalk right now from you … and I’ll be inspecting that room of yours after dinner,” Molly insisted sternly. She held her wand and flicked it once, causing plates and utensils to float out of the cabinets and place themselves neatly on the table.

Ginny moved over to help her mother with the rest of the food while Ron and Harry exchanged worried glances over the upcoming room inspection.

Fleur and Gabrielle were talking with each other near the door; they were speaking French so quickly they sounded like a couple of little birds fussing. Ginny was grinning because of it and as she moved towards the table with a bowl of food she pretended to imitate the two girls.

Harry had been watching Ginny and he stifled a laugh as she placed the bowl on the table.

“I see zem … here is my ’ansome Bill!” Fleur announced as Arthur and Bill started through the gate and were heading up to the door. Fleur exited the door so she could run and greet Bill. A few seconds later Arthur appeared in the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. Weasley,” Gabrielle said. Arthur patted her on the head kindly as he passed her to enter into the house. He stopped abruptly when he saw Harry.

“Harry!” Arthur said as if startled to see him.

“Good evening, Mr. Weasley,” Harry greeted. Arthur turned his attention to Molly; she had turned to stare at him cautiously.

“He arrived alone, without anyone, dear,” stated Molly as she and Ginny moved to put the last two bowls of food on the table.

“An Auror was supposed to be watching the house!” Arthur complained in a heated tone.

Arthur Weasley was usually an even-tempered man and most of the time very good natured. Harry had seen him cross or upset but right now he appeared tired and quite livid with anger.

“I’ve already told Harry not to go off alone again,” Molly said sharply because Arthur had turned to face Harry directly and appeared to be getting ready to possibly yell at him. Arthur snapped his eyes to Molly and then gave each person in the room a very hard penetrating glare.

“I don’t want any of you going out on your own! None of you are to leave this house without another person with you,” Arthur ordered in a very forceful voice. He now was staring right at Harry. “Do I make myself clear on this?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” they all said meekly. The room became silent and Harry was feeling awkward and uncomfortable because he felt like he had caused Mr. Weasley to lose his temper.

Ginny sat down beside Harry and she appeared worried and distressed to see her father so upset. Everyone else moved to sit down. Arthur was the last to take his chair; he studied Harry cautiously for a few moments and everyone seemed to be holding a collective breath.

“We’ll just … have our dinner and then we’ll tell the Ministry that you are here,” Arthur said in a much gentler tone. “No harm done … you’re safe and with us, that is all that matters,” added Arthur. He reached out and squeezed Harry’s shoulder in a friendly manner.

“Yes, that’s all that matters,” Molly agreed; everyone else nodded in approval.

The meal was a bit subdued at first and they all ate quietly. Harry took notice that Bill’s wounds from the night Hogwarts was attacked had healed, all except one across his left cheek that still had a small bandage on it. The scars were there though and very easy to see. Harry wondered what sort of side-effects Bill might have from being attacked by the werewolf but to Harry he seemed fairly normal right now.

Except that Bill seemed very distracted by Fleur, who was grinning because of something Bill had whispered to her. Harry watched as Bill lowered one hand under the table. Fleur had lifted her glass to drink from it but all of a sudden she made an involuntary jerk. She lowered her glass to the table and glared at Bill a moment.

It was only a moment though that Fleur glared at him because the two first grinned at each other and then both began to laugh.

“Alright you two … keep it civil,” Charlie announced with humor.

“Yeah, no snogging or other activities not appropriate for us to witness at the dinner table, if you don’t mind,” Ron stated.

Ginny and Gabrielle began to giggle, Mrs. Weasley simply shook her head at the girls but they both continued to snicker.

After that everyone’s mood lightened; it seemed the humor had set everyone at ease and they all began to talk easily together.

Harry learned that Fleur, Gabrielle, Bill and Charlie would be leaving the day after tomorrow to head to France. From the way Fleur was talking there seemed to be a lot of things you had to do before you got married. Harry wondered if all weddings were so elaborate and complicated. It sounded to him like a lot of ceremony; would it not be just as good to simply go get married?

When dinner had ended Ginny and Fleur helped Molly clean up. Gabrielle and Bill began to talk together; she was trying to help Bill with his French. To Harry’s ear Bill seemed to know it pretty well, but Gabrielle apparently found the way Bill said words and his accent very funny.

“Molly and I would like to speak to Harry, privately please,” Arthur announced once the kitchen was clean and everything was put away. Everyone seemed to have no wish to argue and slowly shuffled upstairs to allow them privacy.

“See you in a bit, Harry … maybe a game of chess?” Ron said as he followed Bill and Fleur upstairs. Harry nodded, but once they were all gone he felt a little nervous.

Molly came to sit down on Harry’s other side and the two adults stared at him cautiously for a few moments. Arthur nodded once and seemed ready to speak.

“Albus explained to us last year that it would be important for you to have a place to go once the … protection you had at your aunt and uncle’s home had ended.”

Arthur paused and studied his wife silently.

“He asked us if you could stay here, with us,” Molly informed.

“We told him that we already considered you one of ours,” Arthur said firmly.

As Mr. Weasley spoke these words Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. Harry always knew the Weasleys were good people, but to hear Arthur say that he was considered one of their children somehow made it that much more real.

“Sometimes I wonder if Albus knew something was going to happen … .if he had a notion he might … die,” Molly considered aloud.

“Snape murdered him,” Harry asserted stiffly.

“We know, dear,” said Molly as she reached out and placed a hand on top of one of his. “I’m aware that you were very close to Dumbledore,” she stated. “I also realize that in the past two years you’ve lost two people you care for, Harry … we want you to know you can come to us for anything,” she soothed. “We are going to do our best to protect and help you,” she added as she squeezed his hand.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley … and Mr. Weasley,” Harry replied as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “I didn’t mean to come here all alone, Mr. Weasley. I know it was silly of me to do that now,” he apologized.

Mr. Weasley nodded, “It’s alright. I’ll write out a quick note to the Minister of Magic to let him know you’re here … and I’ll also be sending a Howler to that bloody stupid Auror who was supposed to be keeping an eye on you,” Arthur stated in a fierce voice.

“Oh no dear, let me do the Howler,” Molly insisted deviously.

“Alright dear, you are marvelous at them,” praised Arthur.

“I imagine you’ve had a lot of practice, being the mother of Fred and George,” Harry suggested. Arthur and Molly both laughed and nodded.

“Right, Harry … well, that’s all for now I think,” Mr. Weasley said kindly. “Good luck in the chess game with Ron,” Arthur said as Harry stood.

Harry nodded and with nothing else to say he headed upstairs. He paused halfway up the steps to consider for the first time in his life it actually felt like he had just come home.