(ok, switching back over)
Harry watched as Ron and Hermione sat dumbfoundedly at the thought of Harry decideing to leave on his own. Ron stared absentmindedly off into space, while Hermione looked down at her lap. Then she placed her face in her hands, and shook her head back and forth.
"Why Harry? I just....i just dont understand," she said quietly, her voice muffled by her hands.
"I told you," Harry said, wishing they could understand. "If either of you two..." he paused, finding himself unable to finish his sentence. "I wouldnt be able to live with it."
"But Harry, we have all been with eachother through everything! We told you we were going with you. How could you just have left without us? Do you know how worried we would have been if we had all woken up and you werent here?" she said, raising her face from her hands. Her eyes glistened with tears.
"Hermione," Harry said, now a little angry. "I am going by myself. You and Ron are going back to Hogwarts. I need to do this on my own. If Voldemort knew-"
Ron flinched at the sound of his name.
"Oh get a grip on yourself, Ronald!" Hermione said, slapping him on the arm. Then she looked back at Harry, now standing up. "We are coming with you, Harry. And you wont stop us."
"Hermione! You dont get it! If Voldemort killed either of you two, I would die! And it would be my fault! Because I let you come!" Harry shouted, breathing hard. Ron's eyes were opened wide, while Hermione trembled with sadness. Harry stared at them.
"Aaaaarrrgghhh!" he shouted, kicking his trunk. Then he flopped down into one of the chairs, his face in his hands. Why couldnt they understand? Why couldnt they understand that if he lost one of them, he would never be able to go on. Harry felt his eyes burning. Was this what his life had come down to? Telling his friends that he was afraid they were going to die? He was supposed to be getting ready for his last year of school. He was supposed to be enjoying these last weeks of summer. He was supposed to not be worrying about anything. But that couldnt be. That would never be until Voldemort was gone. Until Harry destroyed him, alone.
Then something popped into his mind. He looked up, wondering why he had never thought it before. He had a place to go. He always had. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It belonged to him anyways. That's where I'm headed, Harry thought to himself. But how could get away without Ron and Hermione noticing? It bothered him that he wanted to get away from his friends instead of stay with them. But he had to.
He got up and looked at both of his friends. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Then he grabbed his belongings and headed for the stairs. But he stopped as he reached the base of them, and turned around. "You guys were always there for me. Thanks," he said as he trudged up the stairs.
Harry felt a tear drip down his cheek. He knew that that was his goodbye, maybe forever. But the tear was not of sadness. It was of anger. Anger towards Voldemort. Voldemort had taken his life away from him. Voldemort had ruined everything. And now it was Harry's turn to do the exact same thing to him. Never before had he had so much determination to do something. Harry was going to kill Voldemort, even if he died doing it.
Finally, Harry reached Ron's room. He quietly slipped inside, and shut the door. With all of his belongings in his hand, he took one last glance around the room. Then he drew in a deep breath, shut his eyes, and concentrated on the one place that he thought he would never want to return to. And in a moment, he felt the ground beneath his feet leave him.
Harry felt as though he were being sucked through a tiny tube. The world around him was in a whirl of color, whizzing by him. But before he knew it, he felt his feet contact the hard ground. His knees buckled at the sudden stop, making him throw everything everywhere.
Harry sat up and looked around, remembering that he was in a muggle neighborhood.
"Oh no," he said quietly to himself as he stood up, hoping know one had seen his appear out of thin air. He looked back and forth up and down the street. But no one or nothing seemed to be disturbed by his random appearence. He sighed, feeling relief wash over him. Then he turned around to head inside. But he stopped in his tracks. To the left of him was Number Eleven, and to the right was of him was Number Thirteen.
"Bloody hell," Harry groaned. He had forgotten that the house was hidden. How was he supposed to get into a house that wasnt there? Just at that moment, a little old lady passed by on the sidewalk. She stopped and looked curiously at Harry. Harry looked around and found her watching him.
"Great," he muttered under his breath.
"Can I help you, laddie?" The woman said in an old, shaky voice.
"No, not really," Harry said in an annoyed voice.
"Then why you just standin there?" she asked, her hands shaking on her cane.
"Because I want to," Harry said, still annoyed.
"What are you looking at?" she asked, not having moved one inch, aside from her shaky hands.
Harry, now very annoyed spun around and spat at her, "You really wana know? I am trying to find Number Twelve!"
The old woman stared at him blankly. "Oh," she said, and turned to continue her walk. Harry rolled his eyes and went to gather his stuff. But just before the old lady became out of hearing distance, Harry heard her mumble,
"Meddlin' kids. Hasn't been a Number Twelve since I was a youngin' "
Harry shook his head as he bent down and picked up Hedwig. She hooted annoyingly at being tossed around so wrecklessly.
"Sorry bout that," Harry said as he gently picked her up. She nibbled at the cage bars, hoping Harry would let her out.
Originally posted by OhILuvHP
Harry shook his head as he bent down and picked up Hedwig. She hooted annoyingly at being tossed around so wrecklessly.
"Sorry bout that," Harry said as he gently picked her up. She nibbled at the cage bars, hoping Harry would let her out.
............
"I cant let you out," Harry said. "Not with all of the Muggles around." Hedwig nibbled his hand affectionatly, though a bit annoyed.
After Harry picked up all of his belongings, he walked over and sat on the curb of the sidewalk, leaning on his hand. He sat for a long time, pondering what to do next. The first thought that came into his mind was the Knight Bus. But then he remembered that it only came at night. His next thought was to go back to the Durleys. But the thought of returning made him sick. Harry also thought about returning to the burrow. But after all of the commotion from that morning, he realized he couldnt go back. He pictured Ron and Hermione going upstairs to talk to him, and then their frightened faces when they realized he wasnt there. He also pictured Mrs. Weasley's reaction when Ron told her what Harry had done. And he pictured Ginny. What would she do when she found out Harry had vanished? Would she turn white in the face at the thought of never seeing him again? Or would she truly be happy to know that she wouldnt have to deal with the pain?
Harry shook his head, clearing the unhappy thoughts out of his mind. He looked around the street, realizing how much he had forgotten about it. The neighborhood was quite frightening, and all of the houses seemed to be waiting to overtake the next person walking by. All of the yards were unkept with junk piling higher and higher on top of itself. At least Privet Drive was kept clean, Harry thought to himself.
Harry looked at his watch to see what time it was. It read:
9:36
I've got a long day ahead of me, Harry thought. He stood up and walked over to his trunk to grab his book, Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, a Christmas present he had gotten from Hermione in his fourth year. But as he bent down to open his trunk, he heard something behind him. It was a cold, whispy voice that sent shivers down his back at the sound of it.
"Harry....."