Harry looked back, glaring at Jeremy, “What’re you coming with us for?”

Jeremy replied, “Well, if you don't want me to come with you, that's alright. I'll find some other place to live.”

Harry, staring at Jeremy, said, “What do you mean? Don't you have a home to go to?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Well,” said Harry, as he glanced at Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley for support. Harry simply stared at Jeremy, trying to read his mind using legilemency but failed. Giving up at his attempt, Harry continued, “If you must, you can join us.”

After arriving back at the Burrow, the cheerful mood that usually accompanied it’s gracious home, seemed to sully into sadness and grief: mainly due to the prevailing effect of Fred's death and the odd disappearance of Ron, who hadn’t shown up after leaving Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. Even Bill and Fleur, when they visited, seemed to be a bit less buoyant than usual. Harry, usually enjoying Fleur's snappy discussions, was surprised to hear her talking very little and looking rather dull.

There were a fair few visits from the Order members these days; mainly due to Voldemort’s downfall. Mr. Weasley was really busy ever since Kingsley Shaklebolt became the Minister for Magic. He proposed a lot of changes in the wizarding world; most of them involved in protecting the Statute of Secrecy.

As the months stretched out, nothing much happened. The wizarding world had never been this still since Voldemort's death. Harry, however, felt accustomed to the fear in daily life that, on occasion, appeared irritated that the Daily Prophet hadn’t published about any momentous event.

On one peculiar night, however, as Harry lie on his bed, deep in his thoughts, something happened. A man was talking, and he sounded quite familiar:

“Yes! I have chosen you, Harry Potter! You have no choice. You must go for it, otherwise it will destroy you!

Something bright was swirling in the distance, and then, it was gone.