As Harry dressed, he glanced at his nightstand and saw a folded piece of paper that he didn’t remember placing there. He picked it up and read the few words printed on the inside in Aunt Petunia’s small, tidy, script.
Godric’s Hollow
16 Hillside Lane
Godre’r-graig, South Wales
Harry swallowed heavily and stuffed the note in his pocket. This was it: a real and tangible address of where his parents had lived — where he had lived, once upon a time. Why was Aunt Petunia giving this to him now? Was it her way of saying goodbye?
He’d have to think about it later. He stood up and took one long last look around his bedroom on Privet Drive. It felt strange, knowing he’d never see this room again. Not that he wanted to see it, but it felt strange, nonetheless. Although he hadn’t felt like a child in a very long time, this somehow felt as if he were really leaving his childhood behind. He was truly an adult and on his own now.
Smiling slightly, he turned on his heel and followed his friends downstairs.
"We have to put the charm on Dudley," he said as he came down the last few steps to meet Ron and Hermione, who were standing by the front door.
"It’s already done," Hermione said briskly.
"You did it already?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow. How long had they been awake?
"Yes," Ron replied quickly, turning to open the door. Hermione shifted her eyes as Ron pushed Harry and her out the door ahead of him.
Harry stopped walking. "What did you do?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the two of them.
"Nothing to worry about, mate; we took care of everything," Ron said, and something about the way he was smiling reminded Harry eerily of the twins.
Harry decided that he really didn’t want to know. One task down — now it was time to face Ginny. That thought caused a slight shiver to run down his spine. Whether it was a thrill of dread or excitement, he wasn’t certain. Maybe it was a little of both.
As Hermione continued to steer him towards a spot just outside the wards where they would be able to Apparate, he turned to glance back at the house one last time. For a moment, he thought he saw Aunt Petunia’s face in the doorway, watching their departure. When he looked again, the doorway was empty, and he was certain he must have imagined it. If she’d been there at all, she was most likely checking to be certain they left, rather than feeling any sorrow over his departure.
They crossed the street in silence, Hermione nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet in her eagerness. "All right. Harry, hold on to my arm, and we’ll be at the Burrow in no time."
Harry smiled and averted his eyes. Taking a deep, shuddering breath (refusing to admit that he was nervous to anyone), he grasped Hermione’s arm and felt the uncomfortable constriction in his chest as he was sped forward towards the Burrow…and towards Ginny.
Harry opened his eyes and was met with the sight of the ramshackle home he loved above all others. Although somewhat the worse for wear, it was still there and still offering a bit of normalcy against the rising storm. Harry didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to be anywhere in his life. Despite his apprehension about seeing Ginny, being at the Burrow somehow warmed him from the inside.
Chickens ran haphazardly around the coop, and Harry could see more than a handful of garden gnomes peeking out from behind a variety of lush green bushes, all of which were in full bloom. He inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of baking scones mixed with the heady scent of summer.
A sudden urge for treacle tart and a warm greeting from Mrs. Weasley filled Harry’s mind. He had to fight to control his instinct to sprint for the front door and hurl himself inside. Gritting his teeth, he stepped in behind Ron and forced himself to walk at the slower pace. He had no idea what he’d say to Ginny when he saw her, but just the thought of seeing her filled him with such hope that nothing else mattered.
In his mind’s eye, he could picture her hair all windblown from a morning fly in the meadow and a spot of flour on her otherwise flawless face from helping her mother bake the scones that Harry was now certain were awaiting their arrival.
He forced down the uncomfortable thought that she might not even want to see him and wouldn’t be anywhere near him when his presence became known. He wasn’t certain which would be worse — her rejection or her welcoming arms that he’d have to avoid — but he couldn’t stop his own feet from hurrying to find out.
Ron pulled the door open, and they stepped into the chaos that was the Burrow. There were boxes and stacks of paper everywhere. Robes hung inside clothes bags from hooks on the ceiling, and Harry could make out a line of high-heeled shoes resting on the windowsill. Gaily wrapped packages were piled in every spare bit of space in the room, which admittedly hadn’t been generous to begin with. Voices could be heard shouting from upstairs, as well as in the kitchen.
The sudden vibration from a small explosion in another room knocked Hermione into Harry’s shoulder, and he barely caught the both of them before they tumbled to the floor.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, craning his neck to see if there was any damage.
Harry set Hermione back on her feet just as Mrs. Weasley began shouting at Fred.
"Welcome home," Ron said, grinning sheepishly.
A wide, delighted grin spread across Harry’s face. "Can’t think of any place I’d rather be," he said honestly.
"Come on," Hermione said, grabbing each of them by the hand. "Let’s see what that was and if your mum needs any help cleaning it up."
Hermione pulled them into the kitchen, where they found a frazzled-looking Mrs. Weasley using her wand both to cut vegetables and stir several pots, while simultaneously berating the twins for their careless antics.
Bill sat calmly at the table, shuffling through what appeared to be a list of names, while Charlie Weasley sat across from him with a somewhat dazed expression on his face. Sitting next to Charlie was the reason for his dazed look — Fleur was instructing him on the proper pace to keep as he walked down the aisle.
Harry wasn’t certain if Charlie’s blank look was because of the topic or just Fleur in general. Ron still reacted the same way to the beautiful part-Veela. Hermione stiffened next to him and scowled at both Charlie and Fleur. Hermione had never warmed up to the French girl, and Harry wondered how Ginny was faring with her future sister-in-law. Ginny hadn’t liked Fleur any better than Hermione did.
Harry’s gaze lingered for a moment on Bill’s scarred face. The wounds inflicted by Fenrir Greyback were plainly visible and still looked quite painful. On Bill, though, they somehow gave him a rugged, manly sort of look. While Harry thought his own scar just drew unwanted attention, like the star attraction in a freak show; Bill’s gave the older man an aura of mystery. Bill appeared to be someone in control of the situation, and the scars added a bit of daring to his story.
Hermione had apparently been struck dumb by the lack of order in the kitchen and hung back slightly in the doorway, while Ron simply slipped into his customary seat at the table and tried to remain unnoticed. Harry wasn’t quick enough to follow suit.
"’Arry!" Fleur shrieked, gracefully moving away from Charlie and towards Harry. She took him in her arms and kissed him on each cheek. "I am zo ‘appy to ‘ave you here."
Fleur’s shout had alerted the rest of the Weasley family to their arrival, and Harry shifted uncomfortably beneath all the attention.
"Hi, Fleur. Hello, everyone," he mumbled, feeling the heat rise to his face.
"Oh! You’re all here," Mrs. Weasley cried, rushing over to crush Ron in her embrace before pulling back to look him over carefully. Finding no apparent cause for concern, she turned around and treated Harry and then Hermione to the same treatment.
"We’re here, and we’re fine, Mum. Nothing to get so worked up about," Ron grumbled, wiping his face of his mother’s kisses.
Harry pulled away slightly and stood with his back against the wall as Ron greeted the rest of his family. He scanned the room yet again, cursing his traitorous heart for its pathetic hopefulness. How was his resolve ever to hold if he’d trade the world for the mere sight of her at the first chance he got? His breath caught in his throat as Ginny came down the stairs and stopped at the bottom, her eyes taking in the happy welcome.
She looked like an angel as she floated down the stairs, and Harry thought his heart would burst from simply seeing her again. The morning sun streaming in from the kitchen window lit her hair with a fiery brilliance that Harry longed to run his fingers through. Her hair had always been so sinfully soft, and he loved to touch it.
Time lost all meaning and, for a brief moment, he was back at Hogwarts, and she was still his. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away. It took all the force of will he possessed not to cross the room and take her in his arms. Suddenly and for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, nothing and no one else mattered to him.
Her eyes locked on his, and while time stood still their fierce gazes raked over one another as if each were committing every detail to memory to reexamine on lonely nights apart.
Dear God, she’s beautiful.
Gripping the amulet in his pocket fiercely, Harry forced himself to breathe and drag his eyes away. That was exactly why he had to stay away from Ginny. He was powerless against her charm, but there were things that had to be done, and he had to be the one to do them.
If anyone else had noticed his brief lapse of resolve, they didn’t say anything, although he was certain he could feel the heat from Hermione’s stare on the back of his neck.
Ginny entered the room and walked towards Ron, gently nudging him on the shoulder. "Welcome home, Ron. I’m so glad you managed to get here in time to do some of these chores. The family that works together shares in the joy together," she said in a singsong voice.
"Great," Ron grumbled, pulling an apple off the table and biting into it.
"Hi, Harry. Hi, Hermione," Ginny said brightly.
Harry’s heart nearly broke in two. Leave it to Ginny to act as if nothing had changed and there wasn’t this huge wall of tension between them. He was certain she sounded casual to everyone else in the room, but he could hear the strain in her voice…and he knew he was the one who had placed it there.
He tried to open his mouth and return the greeting, but he couldn’t form the words. When did she become such a skilled actress?
"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said. "Thanks for sending me those books. They were just what I needed, and they really came in handy."
Harry’s head shot up, his eyes flickering between the two girls. He’d had no idea Hermione had been in contact with Ginny, or that Ginny had been helping. Damn! So much for keeping her out of it.
"How did everything go with the Muggles?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "They didn’t give you any trouble, did they?"
"Nothing we couldn’t handle," Ron replied with a self-satisfied smirk, "and they’ll be finding little reminders of our stay for years to come."
Fred and George grinned maniacally. "Ooh, do tell. It sounds like our ickle Ronniekins has been paying attention all along," Fred said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
"It’s so gratifying to see all our hard work come to its fruition," George replied, sighing heavily.
"Oh, sit down and finish making those arrangements for the international portkeys. If the guests have any trouble getting here on the big day, I’m going to hold you both fully responsible," Mrs. Weasley snapped.
"Never fear, Mother, dear. All the guests will arrive safely and promptly in time to see our dear eldest brother tie the shackle around his leg," Fred said, batting his eyelashes dramatically.
"What do you mean wiz zis shackle buziness?" Fleur asked, frowning. "You two should be zo lucky to find zomeone willing to zettle down wiz ze likes of you."
"Exactly!" Mrs. Weasley jumped right in. "That’s exactly what I’ve been telling them for years, Fleur dear. Maybe they’ll meet some nice friends of yours at the wedding."
"Ho, ho," George said, grinning. "We’ll take that as our mission. To meet and talk with each one of Fleur’s single friends who comes to the wedding."
"Oh, pleaze. My friends are completely out of your league, little men," Fleur replied dismissively, causing Bill and Charlie to howl with mirth.
"Seriously though, boys. Ron, Harry…did everything go all right at Privet Drive? Harry, did you move all your belongings out?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly.
"Yeah, we got it all," Ron answered. "Harry’s seen the last of that place, and good riddance. Those Muggles are mental. He’s just a homeless, orphan waif now, mum, so I suppose we’ll have to take him in."
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