Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

*

When Harry awoke the next morning, it was raining. Great shimmering drops plummeted from the sky, soaking the ground, puddles springing up from the unexpected summer rain.

He sat up in his bed, watching out the window as a torrent of rain poured past. The sight of it didn't give him much encouragement. He looked to the foot of his bed where his bag sat, full and ready to go.

He knew it would be difficult to leave the security of The Burrow, but he knew he was no longer safe anywhere so he might as well do something worth while. He felt a sense of urgency to start as well. He knew the longer he waited, the more likely it was that Draco was dead.

The thought gave a sharp tug on his stomach. He glanced down at the silver bracelet that was around his wrist. He felt a pang of guilt that he still hadn't started. He reached down and covered up the snake, only to pull his hand back a second later with a hiss of pain.

"Ow," he breathed, sucking on his pointer finger. The tiny snake hissed menacingly at him as though it had known what he was doing. He frowned down at it.

"S'matter?" came a groggy voice from Harry's left. Ron had woken at Harry's noise. He was trying to sit up amongst his tangled sheets.

"Nothing, Ron," Harry said quietly as Ron yawned, sitting up and stretching.

Harry quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, glancing once more out the dark grey window, wondering if this was some kind of bad omen.

He left Ron in the room, still fighting with his sheets, and proceeded to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was the only one up. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands as she stared unseeingly at it.

She jumped up as Harry entered. She hastily smoothed down her clothes as he looked at her. She gave a sniff and fixed her face into a smile. "Harry, what would you like to eat?" she asked.

"Nothing," Harry said listlessly. As he'd been watching her, he'd thought how much harder it would be to actually leave.

"Oh, come on," she said, sounding more like herself. "You have to have something. Just a bit of toast."

In the end, Harry gave in to her wheedling. She looked pleased as he took a piece of toast and nibbled on the edge. His stomach was too nervous to really be hungry.

Outside, the rain poured down in torrents, splattering the low kitchen windows with mud. Beyond the distant hills, Harry saw a flash of lightening followed by a roll of thunder. Mrs. Weasley looked up from where she was frying some bacon and frowned.

She and Harry remained silent until Ron padded down into the kitchen and flopped down at the table with a yawn. Mrs. Weasley looked down at her youngest son, obviously trying not to cry.

"Here's some breakfast," she said quietly, setting down a plate and turning away quickly. Ron watched her for a moment then looked at Harry, who gave a half-shrug. Ron frowned and looked back to his plate.

They sat at the table together, each picking at their respective plates. Even Ron did not seem as hungry as he usually did. He ate half his kippers then simply pushed the rest around.

"A--are you all packed?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a quiet voice suddenly. She was not looking at them, instead facing into a corner, pretending to cut up some fruit.

"I think so," Harry responded. He thought back to his bag that was sitting upstairs, filled with his Invisibility Cloak and the Pensieve. He wondered what Ron and Hermione had packed. Doubtlessly, Hermione had stuffed as many "helpful" books in as possible, ready to whip one out in case of emergency.

Hermione appeared in the door at that moment, exchanging a somber look with the boys. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," she said, trying to sound cheerful.

That seemed to break Mrs. Weasley's resolve. She turned around, letting out a sob, and grabbed Hermione, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "I c-can't believe y-you're leaving so s-soon!" she cried. "What will you do?! Y-you're barely seventeen!"

Hermione patted her back reassuringly as she hugged her tightly. She finally let go of her and instead seized Ron.

"Mum!" he cried in surprise. "I'm fine!"

"You're my y-youngest!" she howled. "M-my baby! You're not fine! Y-you're going off to fight a war you don't understand!"

"Ginny is the youngest," Ron said, his words muffled by his mother's shoulder. Mrs. Weasley didn't answer, only cried harder, holding him so tightly he might break. Finally, she released him and turned to Harry.

Harry thought he knew what was coming and steeled himself against the blow. To his surprise, Mrs. Weasley squatted down to his level where he sat at the table. She took his hand in hers, much like Rose had done the night before.

"Harry," she whispered in a trembling voice, her eyes shining with yet unshed tears. "You're like a son to me. You always have a home here. Promise me you'll be safe; you won't go into unnecessary danger."

"I--" Harry said. He couldn't exactly promise that. How would he know what he might have to do in this war?

"Promise me," Mrs. Weasley pleaded, her expression becoming more frantic.

"I--yes, yes," he said. He didn't know if he could keep that promise but he'd made it. She looked only slightly satisfied as she moved away, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

She looked like she was going to say more to them when more people came in through the door. The rest of breakfast was spent in a kind of tense silence. No one said much besides asking to pass the toast.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat apart from everyone, almost feeling as if they were already separated. Harry knew this was what his life would be like until the end of the war. He would never again be part of anything. He was Harry Potter, the one who stood alone to face Voldemort and would defeat him in the end.

But Harry would never be whole again until he was finished. He felt an emptiness in himself that could not be filled with peace. He knew what belonged there. The green snake on his wrist hissed quietly at him in the silence of the room.

Finally, Harry could take it no longer. He rose from the table and everyone turned to look at him. He saw the fear in their eyes, the worry that they would never come back. He could feel their apprehension; it filled the air, making it difficult to breathe.

Harry stood there for a moment until Mrs. Weasley also rose. She moved over to him, giving him the hug she had been reserving for last. Her warm arms wrapped over him, and somehow, he knew it wasn't her arms he wanted to feel. The thought only made his desire to leave rise in his chest.

She released him and everyone got up, hugging each of them in turn and whispering their good-byes. Ginny walked up to Harry, her expression blank. "Goodbye, Harry," she said softly. She then turned around and went back to stand next to her mother, who placed a hand around her shoulder.

Fleur gave Harry a quick kiss on each cheek and wished him much luck. Gabrielle gave him a hug, kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. Her innocence seemed lost for half a second as she looked at him.

Rose glided up to Harry, pulling him into a light hug. "Do not worry," she whispered in his ear. "Eet is not always as eet seems."

She gave him a quick kiss before stepping back and standing with the rest of her family. Ginny was now frowning as she watched Rose.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione summoned their bags and hoisted them on, standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Harry desperately wanted to leave, to get a start, but a half of him was screaming that he should stay where he had supportive people and safety. In the back of his mind, though, he knew that nowhere was safe anymore.

"'Bye," he said softly, looking into all their sad faces; it was almost too much to take. Ron and Hermione gave their goodbyes. Harry could tell Hermione was trying hard not to cry.

They turned and opened the kitchen door to the pouring rain. The sky was a dark grey, stormy and wet. As Harry walked out, immediately soaking, he knew that Rose's eyes were once again on his back.

The door slammed behind them and Harry had an overwhelming sense of being alone. He shook the thought away and walked with Ron and Hermione to the Apparition point.

"Well," Ron said as they reached it. "Where to?"

Harry paused, looking back to the house. Standing out in the pouring rain, his clothes already soaked, the rain pounding harder than ever, he knew.

"Where it all began."

***

Three sodden figures appeared in the middle of a large, green field. The rain poured down from above, pounding so hard and fast that it blurred everything else. The three people sprinted off the field towards a large forest that stood on the edge.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione covered their heads as they stood, shivering under the trees.

"Umbrella," Hermione muttered.

"What?" Harry asked as they stood, trying to use the trees as a shelter.

"Of all the things I packed, I didn't pack an umbrella," Hermione said, as though it was really important. Harry and Ron just stared at her for a moment as the rain continued to pour down, soaking their hair and running down their faces.

"Well, it's not like if it's raining during the battles, they'll let you take a time-out to find your umbrella," Harry told her, like it was a stupid idea. Hermione just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

They now looked around them, taking in the huge field that spread out before them and the woods that seemed to surround the entire field. Harry looked around and saw that to his left was a small dirt, now mud, path that led into the woods.

Harry beckoned to the others and they turned and followed the path away from the field. As they walked down it, the trees stayed spaced widely apart. They moved cautiously, jarringly aware that they were no longer safe anywhere.

They passed by gnarled trees, overgrown bushes; the path had been seemingly taken over by underbrush as they walked along, trying their best not to trip on the protruding tree roots. Ron and Hermione stumbled along behind Harry, trying to keep quiet and not disturb anything.

Harry moved slowly, cautiously, forward. All his senses were heightened as he crept through the forest. Around him, he could hear the dripping of water running off leaves. There was a loud crack behind him and he shot around, eyes wide.

To his relief, it was only Ron, who had stepped on a dead branch that had lain across the path. Harry let out a breath and shook his head at Ron, who had the decency to look ashamed. Harry turned back around and continued down the path to where it wound around a corner.

Behind him, Hermione shook her head warningly at Ron, who gave her an annoyed shrug, not daring to speak. She merely rolled her eyes and plunged after Harry.

As they rounded the corner, a house came into sight. It was a small cottage-like house. The bushes had crept out of the trees to the once well-kept gardens and drowned out any living plant. The weeds curled up the side of the house, trying their best to infiltrate the walls.

Harry beckoned Ron and Hermione forward and they came to a stop on the path to the front door. They all stared up at it; it suddenly looked massive, not like a tiny cottage at all. Angry vines wound over the roof and over the edge of it. White flowers erupted over the vine, their scarlet stamen glaring at Harry.

"Is this it, Harry?" Hermione whispered, as though she was afraid the trees might be listening in. It wasn't exactly quiet in the forest as the rain continued to thunder down, drenching everything. A mini-river of mud flowed across the path just in front of the door.

"I think so," he whispered back.

He stepped over the little river and up the one step to the front door. He turned the knob slowly, listening carefully. The door opened inward, a cracking sound following it like it had been sealed shut by mud for years. It swung open quite easily and Harry walked inside.

Ron and Hermione went in cautiously behind him, staring in all corners of the house. They had walked into a rather large room, supposedly the living room. There was a fireplace on one wall and a window on the other. Two more doors led off the main room where Harry, Ron, and Hermione now stood.

It was fairly dark inside, due to the dark sky outside and that there was only one window, and it was grimy from many years of neglect. Harry stood tensely in the middle of the room, taking it in. There was a small table in one corner. It was tipped onto its side and the two chairs that surrounded it were missing legs and looked like they had been blasted in half. Shards of wood stuck up from their edges.

Harry moved over to the table, placing a hand on its edge and standing there a moment. He hung his head and Ron and Hermione waited anxiously. He took a deep breath and, after a minute, reached down and flipped the table upright.

His back was turned to Ron and Hermione so they could not see his face. Amidst the pounding rain and howling wind, a tiny hiss could be heard coming from the bracelet on Harry's wrist.


~~**~~


A/N: Apologies on the time it took me, but finals are upon us.

Okay, one review from a few people. THat's all I'm asking. It helps to know that people are actually reading it (since that hit counter is very unreliable). And the only way to let me know that is to.... yup, you guessed it! Review!