Pieces of a Soul

Chapter Three: Bad Blood Will Out

11:50 P.M., July 30, 1998

"Stop fidgeting, Goyle," Lucius Malfoy snapped under his breath. "We are under orders not to be discovered, and there are blood-traitors on the watch." He waved in the direction in which they knew Number Four, Privet Drive was located, though they were unable to see the house itself.

Goyle grunted and tried to adjust his considerable weight into a more comfortable crouching position. They had been on watch in Little Whinging for almost five hours now, Malfoy having wanted to be in place well before there was any possibility of the blood protection being voided. After their failure in London the previous month, they could take no chances. Their orders were clear: kill the two male Dursleys and capture the female as well as Harry Potter himself.

"Goyle!" Malfoy snapped once again. "We cannot risk detection. The Dark Lord will be most displeased if we fail, and rest assured that I will inform him exactly where the blame is to be put if we are discovered before completing our mission."

Goyle was growing tired of Malfoy's orders. Though Lucius was still the topmost member in the Dark Lord's inner circle, everyone in the ranks of the Death Eaters was aware that he was quickly falling out of favor.

"We wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for your traitor of a wife and your sniveling son," he whispered. "At least he got what he deserved, though she ran like a coward into the arms of the Order."

"Narcissa will be found," Malfoy replied smoothly, "and I daresay she will go the same way as Draco when she is. My suspicion is that she has taken refuge at Hogwarts; it's the only way she could have betrayed our plan without being detected." Not one hint of emotion was betrayed in his voice as he talked about the death of his son and the impending death of his wife.

Even Goyle was stunned into silence by his coldness. How could any man speak of his wife and his son as though they were simply pawns? Though his loyalty as well as the loyalties of his family members to the Dark Lord could not be questioned, Goyle knew he would never be able to suffer the loss of his own son with such detachedness, and he hoped that Gregory would at least finish his education before he joined the ranks of Voldemort's followers.

* * *

11:59 P.M., July 30, 1998

"Dung, for the last time, I've little interest in hearing about your thieving exploits," Arthur Weasley said with a tone of half exasperation and half amusement.

Mundungus Fletcher snorted loudly, ignoring Arthur's shushing noises. "I'snot like they don' know we're here," he protested in a loud whisper.

"All the same," Arthur replied, adjusting the Invisibility Cloak once more and keeping his gaze on Number Four, Privet Drive, "I'd rather not advertise our location, would you?"

Mundungus looked around warily. He had not wanted this assignment on the very night in which Harry Potter came of age, and had only taken it when Remus Lupin had assured him that the blood protection would not end until 6:14 that evening.

"It's spelled out right here, Dung," Remus had explained earlier that day, showing him the magical contract which had been found in Dumbledore's papers following his death. "The blood protection is in effect until the moment of Harry's seventeenth birthday; that is to say, the moment he was born. We will be picking Harry up hours before his protection ends."

"Why don't we take him at midnight, then?" Mundungus had protested. "The bloody contract won't be broken and we won't have to worry about nothing."

"Harry is required to be present in the house when the enchantments for the Dursley's protection are set."

"Bloody Dumbledore," Mundungus had muttered, ignoring the shocked and angry looks on the faces of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

"You will be present with Arthur Weasley on July 30," McGonagall had instructed coldly, fixing him with a glare that would have put panic into the heart of any Hogwarts student. That had been the end of the conversation.

"Don't worry, Dung," Arthur said, interrupting the silence. "There are other Order members on standby in case anything goes amiss. Tonks, Lupin, Bill, Moody and Shacklebolt are all at Mrs. Figg's house."

"Why ain't they here, then?" Mundungus muttered irritably.

"We did not want to attract undue attention to ourselves," Arthur answered a bit testily, "and there aren't enough cloaks to cover us all."

As the time changed to midnight, Mundungus and Arthur both looked up at Harry's room, relieved that nothing seemed to have happened. "He's still awake," Mundungus muttered, noting the lamplight coming from Harry's desk, where he was undoubtedly still at work on whatever he had been so engrossed in for the past month. "I still don't see why we can't take him now."

"The plans are in place for a rea - " Arthur snapped, but was interrupted as the thing they had been most dreading came into startling reality before them. As Arthur charged toward house, Mundungus Disapparated with a loud "pop."

* * *

12:01 A.M., July 31, 1998

Lucius Malfoy stood abruptly as a house identical to those on either side of it shimmered into view. "It is time," he said, ignoring Goyle as he walked boldly across the street, his mask in place and his robes billowing around him.

* * *

Arthur jumped to his feet as he saw the Death Eater striding out of the garden of the house across the street from Number Four, letting the Invisibility Cloak fall around his ankles as he shot the Order's signal towards Wisteria Walk. As he did so, the other side also employed their own means of communication.

"Morsmordre!" a loud voice called, and the Dark Mark erupted over Number Four, Privet Drive. For whatever reason, the blood protection had already ended. Within moments, the usually quiet Privet Drive was swarming with Death Eaters and Order members.

* * *

Harry didn't even notice the ink dripping over his papers and off the edge of his desk as he held his wand at the ready and charged towards his bedroom door, already hearing the unmistakable sounds of the battle taking place in the garden and on the street as well as the shouts of alarm from his aunt and uncle.

When he reached the stairs, however, he found himself unable to go down.

"Uncle Vernon, get out of it!" Harry shouted, trying to dodge around his uncle's considerable bulk, which the large man was using to his advantage as he tried to prevent Harry from joining the battle.

"You did this, Potter!" Vernon yelled insanely. "You and your freaky friends planned this, just like you threatened me and that hussy threatened my wife!"

"Get out of the way or I'll hex you," Harry bellowed, seeing the front door spring open magically and three masked Death Eaters come into the house. He held his wand on Vernon as he continued to try to find a way to get around him without hurting him.

Uncle Vernon turned, ready to shout at whoever had the audacity to enter his home uninvited at such an hour. He barely had time to register what he was seeing as the masked Death Eater closest to the stairs raised his wand.

"No!" Harry cried. "Expelliarmus!" he called desperately, trying to point his wand past Uncle Vernon and using his wand-free hand to bring up his translucent gold shield.

The spell never made it to his opponent; it simply bounced off of Vernon's bulk, causing nothing but a slight jolt of a magical energy to go through its mark.

Vernon's eyes snapped back to Harry as he felt the jolt. "Pott -" he began to bellow, now certain that his nephew was trying to use magic to destroy his family. He never got to finish his accusation.

"Avada Kedavra!" the Death Eater snarled, hatred dripping through his voice. The spell hit its mark, and Vernon Dursley's body tumbled down the stairs and landed at the Death Eater's feet. Harry froze as this happened; he knew that voice and had learned to hate the sound of it over the past six years. Severus Snape had just murdered his uncle.

Harry did not have time to ponder this as he began shooting spells as he was coming down the stairs, trying to disarm or disable the Death Eaters swarming through his home. He heard the back door open and was relieved when the sounds of the voices of Order members drifted in through the fray.

He heard a scream behind him. Aunt Petunia, clothed in her flowered nightdress, was standing at the top of the stairs staring at her husband's body, her mouth wide open in a shriek of terror and grief as she took in the scene.

"Aunt Petunia!" Harry yelled. "Get out of it! Hide!"

She seemed to be unable to hear him, and he backtracked up the stairs towards her, shooting hexes as quickly as he could get them off. Just as he reached her, he was satisfied when one of the spells hit its mark and its target fell to the ground, petrified.

Just then, the door to the lounge opened and a sleepy and confused Dudley emerged, still rubbing his eyes. He was still clothed in his jeans and t-shirt; apparently, he had fallen asleep watching his favorite late-night shows.

"Dudley!" Petunia screamed from behind Harry. Immediately, she began pushing at Harry's back, desperately trying to get to her son.

"No, Aunt Petunia!" Harry yelled, fighting her back and struggling to keep her behind him and his shield. "Look, the Order is coming! They'll get him!"

Two Death Eaters were advancing up the stairs, their spells destroying walls and knickknacks as they bounced off Harry's shield, which he was having difficulty holding up while defending himself and trying to keep Aunt Petunia from charging down the stairs towards Dudley.

"Stupefy!" Arthur Weasley yelled as he entered the fray from the kitchen. His spell hit its mark, but he was caught unawares as a Death Eater apparated behind him and a jet of purple light hit him in the head.

"Mr. Weasley!" Harry called involuntarily, his heart stopping in his chest. He saw Lupin, who had finally disarmed and incapacitated his opponent, shooting spells seemingly at random as he tried to get from the kitchen to the lounge doors where Dudley stood, frozen in fear.

"Harry, you've got to get out of here! Apparate with her!" Lupin shouted from below, keeping two Death Eaters engaged and their attention off Harry's cousin.

Harry wasn't sure how he was going to force Aunt Petunia to Apparate with him while still maintaining his shield against the Death Eaters who were still stalking him.

"Tarantellegra!" he cried, and one of the Death Eaters fell backward down the stairs, his legs twitching frantically in an involuntary dance.

"Stupefy!" Lupin said, breaking his concentration in the other duel momentarily to stun Harry's fallen opponent.

"Dudley!" Aunt Petunia screamed again.

"Aunt Petunia, no! The Order will get Dudley! We have to get out of here!" Harry struggled to hold her back as more spells bounced off his shield and hit the walls and the banister.

Lupin's moment of distraction was all his opponent needed. "Avada Kedavra!" cried the voice of Lucius Malfoy triumphantly, and the green jet of light hit Dudley in the throat.

"Nooooo!" Aunt Petunia screamed, and her body went slack against the wall where Harry had her pinned with his own.

"Harry, get her out of here!" Lupin cried, taking in the scene with growing alarm. Each of the Order members present were fighting no fewer than two Death Eaters, and Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt were each dueling three in the front garden. The Order was vastly outnumbered. "Harry, go!"

Harry knew from the way that the Death Eater in front of him had begun to stalk him on the side that he was going to try to get to Aunt Petunia; to kill or capture her, Harry didn't know.

"Aunt Petunia, grab onto me!" Harry called. "Hold on! We've got to go!"

Petunia Dursley made no response, her eyes wide and staring into Harry's back unseeingly.

"Get out of here, Harry!" Bill Weasley called, coming up the stairs to get the Death Eater away from his quarry. "Apparate! Now!"

As the Death Eater turned to face Bill, Harry dropped his shield charm and spun to grab Petunia before she slumped to the floor.

Just as he had gathered her up, holding her awkwardly around the waist, he heard her nightdress split as someone shouted, "Diffindo!"

With a loud 'pop,' Harry and Petunia were sucked into the vacuum of the space-time continuum as he Apparated to the safest place he could think of other than Hogwarts, which would most likely be guarded too heavily for him to enter on his own.

* * *

Harry was clutching Petunia's unconscious form when he appeared in front of Number 11, Grimmauld Place. Panting slightly as he tried to adjust his grip, he thought of the words Albus Dumbledore had written for him just two years before. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he thought, concentrating on the gap between Number 11 and Number 13. Just as it had before, the Black family mansion appeared between the two other houses, pushing them out of the way as it expanded.

With a heave, Harry readjusted his grip on Petunia once more, wincing as her blood dripped onto his arms. Other than her slight breath on his shoulder, he would have guessed that she was dead.

He half-carried, half-dragged her to the front door, waving his wand over it so that the many locks disengaged and he was allowed entrance.

As soon as he reached the parlor, he deposited her carefully on the couch before trying to figure out what to do. No one was at Headquarters; he supposed they were all still fighting on Privet Drive. With a pang, he thought of Arthur Weasley's still form lying on the ruined carpet of the entryway, and he hoped beyond hope that he would survive.

Harry strode over to the fireplace, searching for Floo Powder and finding none. Cursing, he looked over at Aunt Petunia, who seemed to be growing paler by the minute as blood continued to seep through her nightdress. Knowing he had very little time, he ran down to the kitchen at top speed.

Finding the usual pot of powder beside the kitchen grate, he quickly lit a fire with his wand and threw a handful of it, watching dispassionately as the fire burned green. Kneeling and thrusting his head into the flames, he shouted, "Hogwarts Hospital Wing!"

Thankfully Madam Pomfrey was there, having already been warned that battle was at hand and to expect patients before night's end. She looked anxiously into the fire. "Potter?" she asked briskly, "are you injured?"

"I'm not," Harry said hurriedly, "but my aunt is. We're at Grimmauld Place; can you come?"

"Send word to the others," Madam Pomfrey instructed as she bustled about getting her things together, "that I shall be at Headquarters and to bring the injured either there or to St. Mungo's."

Harry nodded and pulled his head out of the fire. A problem immediately presented itself. How was he to tell the others when they were at the Dursley's house fighting? He doubted that it was wise to use the Floo in the middle of a battle.

He thought of the silvery signal that the Order sent as an idea came to him. As quickly as he could, Harry conjured up a picture in his mind of Ginny running towards him, her hair flying behind her back. "Expecto Patronum!" he bellowed at the empty kitchen.

Prongs, in all his translucent-white glory, burst forth from the tip of Harry's wand and looked at him for instructions. Harry paused, not at all sure that this would work, but said awkwardly, "Erm, the others are at my aunt's house, erm, Number Four, Privet Drive. That's in Surrey. Can you tell them to come here when the battle is over and to bring people who are hurt?"

The glowing stag inclined his head slightly and leapt through the wall, becoming no more than a wisp of silver as he rushed to his destination.

As Harry was doing that, the whoosh of the flames in the grate had announced the arrival of Madam Pomfrey.

"Not precisely how the Order communicates, Potter," she said approvingly, "but impressive nonetheless. Now, where is your aunt?"

Harry led the nurse quickly back to the parlor, where she strode hastily to Aunt Petunia's side.

"Diffindo curse?" she asked Harry, who nodded in reply.

"Easy enough to repair," she muttered, waving her wand over the gash so that the bleeding stopped immediately, and Harry knew that the skin would look as good as new underneath the bloody nightdress.

"She'll need blood-replenishing potions next," the nurse told him. "Potter, fetch me some water, would you?"

As Harry ran back to the kitchen to fetch the requested water, he was startled to hear a soft 'pop' behind him. He turned, wand raised.

"Easy, Harry," Lupin said tiredly.

"Moony! But how did you - "

"Apparate here? Easy enough, since this house belongs to me," Lupin explained.

Harry finished filling a pitcher with water and looked through the cabinets to find a glass. Upon finding what he was looking for, he shot an apologetic look at his guardian and hurried off.

When he reached the parlor, Aunt Petunia was already regaining consciousness, though she seemed a little muddy on the details of what had happened.

"Your sort," she muttered, looking at Harry. "Came to my home...killed..." she suddenly sat straight upright, the memories of Vernon's and Dudley's deaths coming back to her full-strength.

After looking wildly around her for a few moments, Petunia gave into the pushes of the Hogwarts nurse on her shoulders and collapsed back onto the pillows, beginning to sob. It was a mark of exactly how distraught she was when she did not look askance at the dusty glass of potion Madam Pomfrey held up for her, but drank it as quickly as she could, never ceasing her sobbing.

Madam Pomfrey had obviously added a sedative to the blood replenishing potion, for as they watched, Petunia's sobs quieted until they were simply pitiful little hiccoughs. Before she fell into a troubled sleep, however, Petunia turned her head to look at Harry accusingly.

"Taking you...took everything from me," she muttered as her eyes closed.

Harry didn't have much time to worry about this statement because a thought suddenly occurred to him. Ginny, Ron and Mrs. Weasley were at the Burrow, likely having little or no idea what had occurred. Unless Mr. Weasley had (and Harry could barely even stand to think it) died, the hands on the clock would all remain pointing steadily at "mortal peril" and they might not know anything was amiss.

Hurrying back to the kitchen, he halted when he saw that the prone form of Arthur Weasley had been laid on the table, his head pillowed on someone's torn cloak. McGonagall, Moody, Lupin and Shacklebolt stood around him, looking very serious.

"He's not..." Harry whispered, fear trilling in his heart. Too much had been lost already...Cedric, Sirius, Mrs. Figg, Fred, Dumbledore, Hagrid...how many losses were they supposed to sustain and still remain standing?

"No," Lupin said comfortingly, placing his head on Harry's shoulders. "He's alive."

Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room, going straight to Mr. Weasley and pulling open each of his eyes, looking for what, Harry didn't know.

"He's been hit with something new, something I haven't seen before," Madam Pomfrey muttered. "It as though every neuron in his brain fired at the same time. I don't know, Minerva," she said, turning to the Headmistress. "I can bring him back, that much is certain, but the cost may be grave."

Harry didn't need to hear any more. He strode straight to the grate in the kitchen, once again threw glittering Floo powder into the flames and called "The Burrow!"

* * *

Ginny and Hermione were sitting in the lounge of the Burrow having a chat when Harry's head appeared in the fire right in front of them.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "What a nice - " She broke off when she saw the look on his face. "What happened?" she asked instead, panic taking hold in her heart.

"You need to get your mum, Ginny, if no one else has," he said softly. "Your dad's been hurt; they attacked Privet Drive."

Ginny and Hermione both gasped and ran out of the room at once, Ginny to go get her mother and Hermione to go find Ron. Harry backed out of the fire to allow them entrance and explained what he had done to the assembled Order members.

"That was good thinking, Harry," Lupin said. "This is the safest place for them."

"Are we going to take Mr. Weasley to St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.

"Not if we can help it, boy," Moody answered him. "St. Mungo's is not secure. Don't forget what happened to Bode last year, and Arthur is too high-profile in his sympathies. No member of the Order will go to that blasted hospital unless there is no other choice."

"Arthur!" Molly called frantically as she burst out of the fireplace, her dressing robe flying behind her. She hurried to her husband's side, looking to Madam Pomfrey for news of his condition.

"I think he will be right after a time, Molly," Madam Pomfrey said as the whoosh of the fireplace announced the arrival of Ron, Ginny and Hermione, all of whom went straight to the table. "He might seem a little bit addled for a week or two, but from what I can tell, the damage is not permanent."

Molly breathed a sigh of relief as she bent to kiss Arthur's brow. "We should move him to a more comfortable spot," she said softly before looking around the room, seeming relieved when she caught sight of Harry and Bill. "Where are George and Percy?"

"They weren't present, Molly," Tonks answered. "I would assume they are still at the shop."

"What happened?"

"There was an attack at Privet Drive," Moody said. "We've got his aunt here, in the parlor, but his uncle and cousin were killed."

Molly gasped and Ginny went straight to Harry's side, wrapping him in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she murmured.

Harry felt oddly devoid of emotion. Though he had certainly not wanted anything to happen to the Dursleys, he could not find any sadness within him. He could not find it within himself to mourn.

"It's OK," he muttered, patting Ginny's back while Molly rounded on Lupin and McGonagall.

"I thought you said Harry was safe until the evening!" she said accusingly. "We could have had him away from there before any of this happened!"

"Molly, I do not know why the blood protection voided early," Lupin replied, "but we could not remove Harry from Privet Drive before the thirty-first anyway. This was not avoidable."

"I know why," Harry said suddenly, realizing with a sickening pang why the blood protection had ended before 6:14. "Yesterday morning, at breakfast...I said...I told Uncle Vernon..."

"Yes, Harry?" Molly prompted, coming over to place her hand on his shoulder and look into his face.

"I told him that in fifteen hours I wouldn't be his problem anymore," Harry muttered. "I timed it to 12:01 A.M. on my watch...it was before I knew...I didn't know about my birth time."

"Harry, this is my fault," Lupin said heavily. "I should have told you sooner. You had no way of knowing about that, no way at all. It wasn't in any of the papers you'd seen. I should have warned you."

Harry shrugged. He still couldn't find it in himself to be particularly emotional over his uncle and cousin's deaths. He had lost too many people he had truly cared about to grieve for people who had mistreated him his entire life.

"Harry, it's not your fault, mate," Ron said awkwardly, guessing that Harry would soon begin blaming himself for what had happened.

"Not at all," Hermione said firmly. "You didn't know, and even if you had, he would have had to agree with you for it to break the contract."

Harry nodded.

"Let's get Arthur up to a room on the second floor," Lupin suggested.

"He'll be waking soon," Madam Pomfrey cautioned, "and he's likely to be quite disoriented."

"I'll stay with him, of course," Molly said. "Ginny and Ron, I need you to Floo back to the Burrow, preferably with at least one adult, and pack some things for us. We'll be staying here while your father recovers."

Ginny and Ron nodded, and Bill volunteered to go with them, as he would need some things for himself as well.

"Lupin," Molly said suddenly, "that is, of course, unless you object. It is your house."

"Of course I don't object, Molly," Lupin said gently. "You and yours will always be welcome here; you know that."

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand and kissed his cheek, whispering, "I'll be back soon, love," before she followed her two brothers back to the kitchen grate.

* * *

"Am I to understand," Voldemort stated quietly, "that although the boy and his father were killed, you failed yet again to bring me Harry Potter and his aunt?"

"They Disapparated before we could reach them," Severus Snape said smoothly. "He has become quite adept at his shield charm; our curses simply bounced right off of it, and as we had been forbidden to use the Unforgivables, we had few options but to advance with care."

"And you find that to be a reasonable explanation, Snape?" Voldemort asked, his voice lowering dangerously.

"My Lord, you have my word that we did all - "

"Crucio!" Voldemort said coldly, pointing his wand at the Hogwarts Potions Master.

After a few moments, he lifted the curse. "Stand, Severus," he commanded, and watched with something akin to amusement as Snape struggled to his feet, fighting for breath.

"Let me make myself clear," Voldemort addressed the group around him, all of whom had been through similar treatment as Snape in the hours preceding. "The blood that runs in Petunia Dursley's veins as well as Harry Potter's is valuable to me. So valuable, in fact, that I will be suspending all other activities until they are found and brought to me."

The Death Eaters narrowly avoided allowing looks of surprise to show on their faces.

"You are aware, my friends," Voldemort hissed, "that I am now closer than I have ever been in my quest for true immortality. The time for failure is past, and I want that blood."

"You shall have it, My Lord," the Death Eaters answered as one, knowing that no other reply would be permissible.

* * *

Life at Headquarters fell into a loose routine soon after Harry and the Weasleys had moved in. Aunt Petunia was moved to a vacant room next to the second-floor bedroom in which Arthur was convalescing, and she spent more and more of her days awake and aware of what was going on around her. In several of her breaks from sitting by Arthur's side, Molly was seen entering Petunia's bedroom, emerging some moments later, looking both sadder and more frustrated each time she did so.

Mr. Weasley regained consciousness three days after the attack and awoke, surrounded by his children, wife, Remus Lupin and Harry, who had all come into the room at Madam Pomfrey's advice. She had felt that many familiar faces would be just what Arthur Weasley needed to bring him back to himself as quickly as possible. It became obvious very quickly that he was far from recovery. "Mollywobbles," Arthur asked plaintively the moment he had awoken, "have you seen my plugs?"

Molly blushed profusely, as this had been said in front of most her children as well as Lupin and Harry. A slight titter comprised more of relief than amusement swept through the group and Molly pulled herself together enough to answered cheerfully, "Your plugs are just fine, dear," as though she were talking to a very small child.

Ginny giggled in spite of herself. Her mother was using the same tone as she had once used whenever one of the Weasley children had suggested something ludicrous when they were small. Though Ginny knew that the situation was serious, she couldn't help but enjoy the levity in her mother's voice.

Ginny's giggle attracted Arthur's attention, and he looked at her up and down as though trying to place her. "You're quite pretty, you know," he said conversationally. "Have we met?"

Ginny's smile faded just a bit at her father's question, but she answered gently, "I'm Ginny, Dad. I'm your daughter."

"Of course, of course," Arthur replied cheerfully. "Sorry 'bout that, got a bit of a knock 'round the head, you know."

The room sighed in relief, for if Arthur had truly been unable to remember his daughter, it would have made the situation ten times more serious.

"It's OK, Dad," Ginny said quietly, bending to kiss him on the cheek.

"Mollywobbles," Mr. Weasley said again (to Mrs. Weasley's embarrassment), looking around the room and counting the many redheads. "We have quite a lot of children, don't we?"

"We do indeed, my dear," Molly agreed, handing him a cup of steaming peppermint tea. "Now hush up and drink your tea."

Obediently, Mr. Weasley sipped his tea, still looking around the room curiously. No one spoke for a few moments until his gaze finally fell on Harry, who had been trying to remain unobtrusive on what he considered to be a family moment.

"Good lord," he said in surprise. "You're Harry Potter!"

Harry nodded uncomfortably in response to the greeting, wondering how much Mr. Weasley remembered.

"Well, well," Mr. Weasley said. "Glad to see you're quite alright, my boy. I think Ginny here would have been quite upset if they'd gotten you."

"Too right I would've!" Ginny said a little too cheerfully.

Mr. Weasley leaned forward conspiratorially, motioning for Harry to come closer. "I do think she fancies you," he whispered loudly. Everyone in the room laughed.

"Well, of course she does," George responded.

"Has for years," Bill supplied.

"Really, Father, how are you feeling?" Percy asked seriously. Though he had relaxed quite a bit over the past half of a year, he was still the most formal member of the Weasley family, and he saw no reason for this nonsense when there were important matters to be attended to and discussed.

"Oh, you know," Mr. Weasley said. "Not quite right as rain, I suppose."

"Are you ready for a rest, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked in her most motherly tone.

"Care to join me, Mollywobbles?" Mr. Weasley smiled suggestively, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

"Arthur, really," Molly mumbled, but she was smiling under her bright red cheeks. "You need your rest."

At this, she waved the rest of them out of the room with a furtive motion, and they all bid Mr. Weasley good night.

* * *

Out in the hallway, Harry stopped in front of Aunt Petunia's closed door. He had not gone in to see her since the day of the attack, and she had been sleeping at that time. He looked at Ginny questioningly.

"You're going to have to face her sometime, love," Ginny said quietly. "Just remember, the things she might say have more to do with her grief than the truth. Don't let her tell you this was your fault. You know whose fault it was."

Harry nodded.

"Whose fault was it?" Ginny asked, falling into a routine that she, Hermione and Ron had adopted over the past few days. It annoyed Harry greatly, but that didn't stop them.

"Ginny, not now."

"Whose fault was it?" she persisted, her voice both understanding and unwavering.

"Voldemort's," Harry answered with a grimace.

"Thank you. Now remember that, and go see your aunt. It'll eat you up until you do, love." She kissed him softly. "I'll wait for you right out here."

Harry nodded again and raised his hand to knock softly on the door.

"You're going to come in anyway," Petunia's irritated voice, raw from three days of almost continual sobbing, "so you may as well."

With a last glimpse at Ginny's encouraging face, he pushed the door open.

Aunt Petunia, as she had been since her arrival, was in bed. Several potions sat on the bedside table along with a tray of nearly untouched food. When she saw Harry come through her door, her face hardened into an ugly snarl.

"You," she said contemptuously. "I have nothing to say to you."

Harry was not surprised by this greeting; it had been no better or worse than he had expected after everything she had gone through.

"Aunt Petunia," he began awkwardly.

"Don't call me 'aunt'," she snapped before he could continue. "You are no relation of mine. The only titles I want to hear now are 'mother' and 'wife', and you have stripped both of those from me."

"You will always be a mother and a wife," Harry said softly, feeling an unprecedented amount of sympathy for the angry woman before him. "No one can take that from you. You'll also always be my aunt, whether you want to be or not. We are tied together by my mother's blood."

"I should have left you to rot," was Aunt Petunia's only reply to this speech.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Harry continued, trying his best not to let her anger get to him.

"You're sorry," she spat. "Will that bring back my precious son and husband?"

"I wish it would," Harry said, "and if there was anything I could do to bring them back, I would do so."

"There's nothing, then?" Aunt Petunia asked, a frantic note of hope in her voice. "There's no - potions, or whatever your lot uses for sicknesses, that can undo the spells that killed my family?" Harry knew from conversations he had overheard between Mrs. Weasley and Remus Lupin that this was not the first time she had asked this question; he also knew that it was a question which he would be forced to give a horrible answer.

He bowed his head. Though he could still not honestly say that he was sorry Dudley and Uncle Vernon were gone, the pain in her voice and the hope that events could be changed reminded him forcibly of how he had felt following the deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore and, most recently, Hagrid. "There's nothing to counteract that curse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's what killed my Mum and Dad as well."

"And mine," Aunt Petunia replied harshly.

Harry head snapped up. "Yours?" he asked blankly. "My...grandparents?"

Aunt Petunia nodded angrily. "No doubt they would have been just as impressed with you as they were with my sister," she said with venom. "But your lot killed them, just like you killed...my Dudley...my baby..." Her voice changed as she began to sob once again.

Harry did some quick figuring in his head. Voldemort had killed his mother's parents, but not his father's, had come after his family three times before he had defeated Harry's parents, but was vanquished for thirteen years when the curse meant for Harry had rebounded back onto himself.

There might be something more to why he chose me over Neville as the one most likely to destroy him, Harry thought wildly.

"Pity that Voldemort didn't kill you along with your parents," Aunt Petunia suddenly announced with a pitiful hiccough. "Then none of this would have happened."

"When I survived...when you took me in..." Harry mumbled, his mind working frantically with only a few pieces of this new puzzle in place. "He would have come for you anyway." The last was spoken in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Get out," Aunt Petunia said suddenly, her voice becoming almost hysterical. "Get out of here, and don't let me see you again!"

Harry cast her one more look before he left the room, more questions swirling in his mind than he had ever had before. How come no one had ever told him this?

* * *

"Oh, Harry," Ginny murmured as he came out of the room. Sticking out of one of her pockets was a flesh-colored string that he knew belonged to one of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes' sets of Extendable Ears.

"He killed my grandparents," Harry answered. "How come no one ever told me? Dumbledore, Moony, Sirius...even Hagrid and McGonagall...Moody...they all had to have known!"

"We'll find out, Harry," Ginny promised him solemnly. "I don't know the answers, but we'll find out." She gathered him into a warm hug, and they stood holding one another for several moments before she broke apart from him.

"We never got a chance to celebrate your birthday," she said a trifle sadly. "With everything that happened...I don't know if anyone even remembered to say anything to you about it, not even me."

"Moony remembered," Harry said, for his guardian had wished him a happy birthday shortly before they had all retired the night after the battle. "It doesn't matter, though," he continued. "We have more important things to worry about."

Ginny nodded. The truth in his words could not be denied, but she still wanted to mark the occasion, albeit belatedly. "In any case," she said definitely, "I know that everyone has something they want to give you, and now that Dad's on the mend and things are quiet for a time..." she trailed off before she seemed to come to a decision. "Let me get everyone; let's meet in Dad's room. I know he'll want to be part of it."

"Ginny, I - " Harry begin, fully intending to tell her that he did not want to celebrate this particular birthday.

"I don't want to hear it, Harry," she said sternly. "Just wait here."

She strode back to the door that led to her parents' room and knocked softly. When she heard Mrs. Weasley's reply, she opened it and went inside, closing it once again behind her. Harry heard soft voices inside before Ginny reemerged and told him to wait with her parents while she got everyone else.

It didn't take long, and Harry felt more cheerful after a few minutes of Mr. Weasley's absentminded chatter. Though it had been a bad injury that had caused his levity, there could be no doubt that his innocent and playful remarks were a relief to the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place after the serious conversations that went on in the other rooms of the mansion.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Lupin all arrived, Ron and Hermione carrying a large package between them and Lupin seeming to be empty-handed. They were followed after a few moments by Tonks, who was bearing a small package, and McGonagall, who also seemed to have nothing in her hands. Harry realized that Ginny must have contacted them via Floo.

As soon as they were joined by George, Percy and Bill, Mrs. Weasley said with an attempt at joviality, "Happy birthday, Harry dear!"

This was followed by well-wishes from everyone assembled in the now-crowded room.

"Birthday?" Mr. Weasley said. "Your birthday, of course! What a wonderful thing! Happy birthday, son!"

Harry blushed a little at these words; though he often thought of the Weasleys as something akin to his own parents, no one had ever in his memory referred to him as 'son'. He glanced at Lupin, who merely smiled at him, not seeming to mind the reference.

"I'm sorry we didn't have a proper feast for you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "We had one planned, but..."

"It's OK, Mrs. Weasley," Harry answered. "Just having all of you here is enough."

"Of course it's not enough!" George interrupted. "You've got to have your presents! Can Percy and I go first, seeing as how there's no food to slow us down?"

Harry had to laugh. This sounded like the George he had always known.

"Go ahead, then, dear," Mrs. Weasley prompted, and George held out a large box.

Harry opened it, expecting the usual assortment of jokes and pranks from their shop, but he was surprised when he found a wider variety of items, most of which he had never seen before.

"These are anti-dark detectors and defense items," Percy explained seriously. "It's a new line we've been developing."

Harry pawed through the box eagerly, seeing a small, compact version of the cracked foe-glass which had been in the fake Moody's office during fourth-year; an Unopenable Box which would only reveal its contents to its rightful owner; and a packet of powder which, Percy explained, was crushed bezoar and would counteract nearly any poison known to Wizardkind. "You'll want to be careful of that, Harry," he warned. "Because it is crushed, it is much more concentrated than a whole bezoar. Most of that simply passes through the body. You'll only need a pinch."

Harry also found invisible ink, Auto-Sealing parchment rolls, and, to his infinite delight, a small leather leg band for Hedwig which would render her invisible to the naked eye.

"Thanks, George and Percy!" Harry said sincerely, knowing perhaps better than the rest just how much he might need these items in the months to come.

"It's from Fred, too," Percy commented quietly. "He and George developed a lot of this stuff last year."

Harry nodded seriously.

"Our turn!" Ron, Hermione and Ginny announced as soon as Harry had put the items from George and Percy back into their box.

Harry tore off the brown paper wrapping on their package to reveal what looked quite like a normal Muggle camping backpack, complete with a frame to support it on his back.

"We found it on Owl Order from Quality Quidditch Supplies," Hermione said excitedly. "It's charmed to fit your broomstick, team robes, playing supplies, and just about anything else you want to fit into it!"

"Thanks!" Harry said sincerely, although he could not help a tiny note of suspicion that there was more to this gift than anyone wanted to admit. "I've never seen one of these before; it's perfect!"

"Look inside!" Ginny said, smiling, and Harry opened it.

Stuffed into all of the pockets of the bag was an assortment of Honeydukes sweets, including Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Sugar Quills and even a few novelties like Cockroach Clusters and Acid Pops. Harry had to laugh. "You guys will have to help me with all this!" he protested.

"My turn," Lupin said quietly after Harry had handed Chocolate Frogs to everyone in the room.

"Chocolate Frogs! How wonderful!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, catching his before it hopped off the bed and biting its head cleanly off. "Oooh! Cards! I've got Merlin; anyone want to swap?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear," Mrs. Weasley chided gently. "I think Remus wants to give Harry his gift, so hush up for now."

Lupin reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a small, unwrapped box, which he handed to Harry with a smile that was more sad than congratulatory.

Harry opened the box slowly and not without some trepidation. Inside, nestled on a bed of cotton, lay a thin band of light wood, intricately carved and only slightly larger in diameter than Harry's first finger.

"It is...a ring?" Harry asked, preparing to slip it onto his hand.

"Not exactly, Harry," Lupin said. "Can you read the runes on the side?"

"Erm, no," Harry replied, having never taken Ancient Runes.

Hermione rushed forward. "I can!" she said excitedly. She bent over the wooden ring, looking intently. After a few moments, she looked up, her eyes shining as she held it aloft.

"Professor Lupin," she breathed, "is this what I think it is?"

He nodded.

"It's for your wand, Harry," Hermione explained.

"I've got one of those!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "But...oh, bother, whatever have I done with my wand?"

Tonks pulled her wand out of her pocket and held it backwards by its tip so that Harry could see the base. About an inch from the handling end, a band of light wood exactly the same as the one Hermione held in her hand surrounded the darker wood of her wand.

Silently, Molly, George, Percy, Bill, McGonagall and Lupin also held their wands out. Surrounding the base of each was one of the wooden bands.

"It says," Hermione whispered, "'Brothers in arms, fighting as one.'"

"That's it?" Ron said.

"That's it?" Hermione said incredulously. "Ron, don't you realize?"

"You want me to join the Order?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly," Lupin clarified. "The rules have not changed; only overage wizards who have left school will be brought into the Order of the Phoenix. However, Harry, given your position, we felt as though this was an appropriate measure. These bands allow us to contact one another using pure thought whenever the need arises. I believe you will find this useful."

"It's like the amulets you and I carry," Harry said, wondering what made this so special.

"Not exactly, Mr. Potter," McGonagall broke in. "These bands form a connection between the wands of he Order members, allowing us several advantages as we work together. It is a great privilege to be given one, but also a great responsibility."

"No more than the one he already bears," Ginny broke in.

McGonagall's face softened as she sighed. "You're right, Miss Weasley," she said in a less severe tone.

"Do you accept this, Harry?" Lupin asked, indicating the band of wood Hermione still held.

Harry nodded.

"Then put it on the base of your wand," he prompted.

As Harry slipped the slim band around the base of his wand, three crimson sparks emitted from the tip and showered gracefully to the ground.

"Use it well," Lupin said softly.

Harry looked at him sharply, not sure if his guardian could possibly have known that those had been the exact words Dumbledore had written to him on the note accompanying his Invisibility Cloak during Christmas of his first year. He couldn't tell one way or another, but he couldn't see how Lupin could possibly have known about something like that.

The impromptu birthday party continued with the usual gifts of defense books and broomstick care items, and ended only when Arthur's eyelids began to droop.

"I believe it is time we called it a night," Mrs. Weasley announced, and most of the rest of them were too tired to argue. As Harry passed the door that led into Petunia Dursley's room, he stopped for a moment. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, and he couldn't have done so in the middle of all those people, whether they were Order members or not.

"Let her be, love," Ginny said softly, easily reading his dilemma. "Lupin knows as much as she does, or at least enough for now. She's not going anywhere."

"She's got nowhere to go," Harry answered, not realizing that at that very moment, Petunia Dursley was making plans for her own immediate departure from Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Harry, still absorbed in what Aunt Petunia had told him the day before, kept stealing glances at Lupin, waiting for an opportune moment to ask him for a private talk, while Ginny kept taking hold of his hand under the table and squeezing it softly. Even Ron and Hermione, who did not yet know of the startling revelation from the night before, seemed subdued. The adult Order members were nearly always quiet in the mornings, most of them having had some kind of duty during the night. Bill, Percy, George, Molly, Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin all ate as silently as the teenagers, absorbed in their own thoughts and weariness. The only person at the table who seemed to feel cheerful was Mr. Weasley, who was eating his eggs and sausages gleefully.

The kitchen door creaked open, causing all of them to look around in surprise which turned to shock when they saw who had come through the door.

"We have a guest for breakfast!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed happily. "Mollywobbles, dish up some more of these wonderful sausages!"

Petunia Dursley glared at him, not knowing or caring about the cause of his exuberance. "I have come to inform you that I will be leaving today," she said stiffly, looking with distaste upon the assembled "freaks" in this dark and obviously unclean kitchen.

"Mrs. Dursley - " Molly began anxiously.

"Mrs. Weasley, is it?" Petunia interrupted rudely. "I see no reason why I should be forced to remain in this house against my will. I would have gone much earlier, but it seems that all the doors have been locked. I demand that you release me at once."

"For your own protection - " Lupin began.

"And fine protection you provide!" screeched Petunia a bit madly. "Under your protection, my husband and son were - were killed." She stumbled a little on the words, but her voice did not diminish in shrillness as she continued, "I do not need or want to have any further association with your kind."

"We will provide you with a guard as often as we - " Mad-Eye Moody began, a note of sympathy evident in his gruff voice.

"I will not be followed!" Petunia interrupted once again. "If you dare to track my movements, I will be forced to reveal all of this - " she waved her hand to indicate the kitchen and, it seemed, the entire Wizarding world, "to our government, the press and anyone else who will listen. I will not have the deaths of my son and husband overlooked! They were not even given a proper funeral. I will not be followed!" As she spoke, she continued to wave her hands as though she were swatting away a very persistent mosquito.

"Mrs. Dursley, dear - " Mrs. Weasley began kindly.

"No!" Petunia shrieked.

"Understand something," Moody broke in before Petunia could start shouting again. "Though we have the authority to give you our word that the Order of the Phoenix will not follow you from this house, we cannot speak for the other side."

"The other side!" Petunia laughed madly. "Once I'm clear of him, I'm sure I'll be quite safe." She jerked her head towards Harry. "He's poison," she spat.

"Now you listen - " Ginny began, springing from her seat.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley chided, looking at her sharply. Surprisingly, Ginny sat back down in her chair, though her ears were still glowing red.

"You are certain you will not accept our protection?" Lupin asked quietly, though Harry noticed him gripping the sides of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Petunia stifled a sob. "Just stay away from me," she whispered finally, sounding broken and defeated.

Mad-Eye Moody looked at Lupin, then at Bill, Mrs. Weasley, George and Percy in turn. They all nodded.

"Very well," he muttered. "But I must warn you once more that I can't speak for the other side. There is only one thing left to do."

Petunia shrieked as he raised his wand and pointed it directly at her.

"Obliviate," Moody growled, and everyone at the table watched as Petunia Dursley's memory of Grimmauld Place and its inhabitants was stripped from her mind. Her face oddly slack, she allowed herself to be led out of the house and to the train station.