"By now, I'm sure your friends have told you about the articles in the Muggle papers and in the Daily Prophet," said Dumbledore, pausing to look at Harry for confirmation.

"They told me," said Harry. "I'm rather glad I slept through it all."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, given the circumstances, and to help you complete your recovery, I feel it's best that you spend another week here at Hogwarts, Harry. I've issued a statement to the Prophet that you are quite safe and recuperating nicely."

"Right…in the country with family friends…" muttered Harry. It suddenly occurred to him that the Dursleys didn't actually have any family friends. Uncle Vernon had business associates, and of course there was Aunt Marge, but no one else seemed to want to voluntarily spend time with the Dursleys…including Harry himself.

"Actually, Harry," answered Dumbledore, ignoring Harry's well-aimed poke at the Dursleys, "I have not revealed your location. However…now, what is that Muggle phrase? Oh yes…it would not take a rocket scientist to figure out that you are at Hogwarts." Ron and Ginny looked at each other and shrugged.

Harry considered. A week. That would still leave three weeks until the term started. "So, I stay here for another week, then. Where to after that?" he asked carefully.

Dumbledore picked up a gold coin left from a cracker and turned it over several times in his hand. At last he replied.

"I can't say yet, Harry. Perhaps to the Burrow with the Weasleys, or perhaps to some vacation spot with Miss Granger's family. I cannot promise that, though. We may have to resort to #12 Grimmauld Place or..." he hesitated.

Harry's face fell and he found himself studying his hands.

"…or another secure location. You'll have some company, at least while you are here at Hogwarts. Your friends' parents have agreed to them staying with you, and Hagrid has promised to keep an eye on you when Professor Snape and I are not on the premises."

"Snape?" The protest escaped his lips unbidden.

"Professor Snape is my second during the summer here at Hogwarts, Harry. Professor McGonagall is only here for a day or two—she will be leaving very soon." He fixed Harry with a steady, serious gaze and Harry knew he would not like what the Headmaster was about to say. "Harry, you would be wise to consider building bridges with Professor Snape. He will be instrumental in the fight against Voldemort and you will need his assistance." He held up a hand to forestall the protest he knew was coming. "I have asked the same of Severus. I am not saying it will be easy…for either of you…but you can begin by showing him the respect any professor should receive and referring to him by his title, a title he earned at an earlier age than any professor in the history of this school."

Harry glanced over at his friends. Ron's mouth was hanging open—he looked like he was definitely feeling Harry's pain. Hermione, on the other hand, looked impressed by this bit of news and was nodding her head in agreement with the Headmaster. Harry decided that no reaction was the best course and changed directions.

"What about the Order?" asked Harry. "I mean . . . Bill, and all . . ."

"There have been questions, yes," said Dumbledore. "The Ministry has long wanted a guard on you and now suspects I am up to something behind their backs, which may be interpreted as a lack of trust of the Ministry on my part. A valid interpretation, I might add. But as you are a known close friend of the Weasleys, it has been explained that various members of the Weasley family check in on you from time to time over the summer."

Harry was not unaware that Professor Dumbledore was attempting to be honest with him, even though he was still making decisions for him. He didn't quite believe that the Ministry would fall for the "Bill just happened to be there when Harry was run over by his uncle" story, but it was certainly better that Bill had been photographed rather than one of the aurors like Tonks or Shacklebolt.

"What about the Dursleys, then," he asked. "Are they safe?"

"We have a double watch at the house on Privet Drive, around the clock," answered Dumbledore. "There's been nothing suspicious yet. So, yes, they are safe. Safe from evil wizards anyway."

"But not safe enough to send me back there?" he asked, daring to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

"No, Harry, I'm afraid not," answered Dumbledore. "There is every reason to believe that the enemy could now locate you at your aunt and uncle's home. And furthermore, they now know that you aren't in top physical form. So you will not return there, not this summer, anyway."

"Professor, why all four of us?" asked Harry. He didn't have a problem with spending time with his best friends. In fact, with the recent hand-holding he'd witnessed between Ron and Hermione, he was rather glad that Ginny had come along too. "Aren't any of us safe outside of Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry then round at the others, his blue eyes beginning to twinkle just a bit. "The Order feels that keeping you all together for a time will cut down considerably on the number of owls you'll be tempted to send from one to the other. So the only new restrictions you have here are no leaving the grounds of Hogwarts, and no owls. I can take messages directly to your parents, Mr. and Ms. Weasley, and can even drop a letter in the Muggle post to yours, Ms. Granger. Any communication to any Order member can be given directly to me and I'll deliver it personally." He stood up then and the comfortable chair he was sitting on popped out of existence.

"And now, it's late. Harry, it's back to the hospital wing for you. Madam Pomfrey will have my head if I keep you here much longer. The rest of you will be staying in our school's visitor guest rooms during your stay. They are conveniently located close to the hospital wing and your things have already been delivered there."

"By house elves," mouthed Ron to Hermione.

Ginny helped Harry back into the strange wheelchair and together they moved toward the door. Dumbledore took one last look around the room then whispered "Nox" as he closed the door behind them.