A/N - These characters are JKRowlings. Many thanks to my beta reader, KenTuck!!!

Bill and Fleur’s wedding. That would be the next time I would see her since I told her I couldn’t be with her anymore. We couldn’t be together because that would put her in danger. I couldn’t handle her death, I loved her. I would be in danger but she needn’t be. It was the right thing to do. It was. . .

It would also be the first time I’d see Bill since “that night” in hospital wing. I wondered whether he looked any better. Let’s just say that last time, he didn’t look too good, after Greyback had finished with him.

The wedding was in a week, but I was invited to go over to the Burrow tomorrow. See everybody, get new dress robes . . . See her again . . .

There was a knock on my bedroom door, Aunt Petunia entered. “There’s somebody for you downstairs,” she said without meeting my eye. By the look on her face, it was an unwelcome visitor.

She left hurriedly slamming the door behind her. The Dursleys had been keeping their distance ever since I had come back from Hogwarts. They avoided my eyes, quickly changing the conversation whenever I came into a room. I wasn’t complaining though. It suited me this way, gave me plenty of time to reflect, time to think things over. Such as . . . Voldemort, for example.

I’ve decided to carry on with my original plans. Find the remaining Horcruxes and then Voldemort. Take revenge. Let him feel the pain that I suffer every single day, every minute, every second . . .

Grudgingly, I descended the stairs. To my surprise, Mr. Weasley stood in the hallway. “How are you, Harry?” he asked, patting my arm.

I shrugged. “Been better,” I said.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “Have you got your stuff ready?”

“Erm . . .” I replied, thinking about how empty my trunk was. “Just a minute.”

I raced up the stairs. Within ten minutes, I was back in the hallway ready with trunk and owl cage.

“We’re travelling by Apparition, Harry,” he said. “I heard you passed your test, congratulations.”

“Yeah, well. I had plenty of practice, didn’t I?” I replied, memories of the past few months flooding back to me. The cave . . . the huge black lake . . . the Inferi . . . the Dark Mark . . . Snape . . . Dumbledore’s plea for help . . .

Either Mr. Weasley could perform Legilimency, or it was obvious on my face, for he pulled me into a hug. The hug seemed endless, a father’s hug that I had never known before. He pulled away, clearing his throat.

“Ready? You go first . . .”

The familiar, uncomfortable feeling compressed my chest, making it hard to breathe. I was spinning, spinning like a cork caught in high winds, images flashing in front of my eyes. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. I could breathe again. The room swam before my eyes. I staggered and felt somebody grab me.

“Harry!” somebody shouted. Hermione’s face came into focus. She pulled me into a quick hug. “Oh Harry, I’ve missed you.”

The smell of Sunday roast filled my nostrils.

“Mrs. Weasley’s making dinner,” Hermione said. “Come and help.”
I followed her into the kitchen, before I was flung to the floor. Spluttering, I opened my eyes to find Fred and George on top of me.

“Harry!”

“How are you?”

“Haven’t seen you for a while!”

“Oh, look, George. He’s struggling to breathe.”

“Do you think we should get off him?”

”Nah!” they chorused.

I wiggled and squirmed under them. “Get… Off… Me…”

I felt a great weight lifting off me. Mrs. Weasley stood over me, wand raised, Fred and George levitating behind her. She pulled me upright and hugged me. I heard a thud as Mrs. Weasley’s wand relaxed.

“Harry!” She released me to have a good look. “Look how much you’ve grown! You’re nearly as tall as Ron now. Come now. Sit down.”

I sat down opposite Hermione. “Where’s Ron and Ginny?” I asked, looking around.

Hermione leaned towards me. “Listen,” she whispered. “Ron’s not very hap . . .”

But she was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps. Ron and Ginny ran into the room. My heart rate raced at the sight of her. She was just as I had remembered. That long, silky-soft hair, those intense, warm brown eyes. I did not remember those bags under her eyes, heavy and dark. Ron settled down next to Hermione, while Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley dish up.

“Look, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice about an octave higher than it usually was. “Harry just arrived.”

Ron muttered an inaudible “Hi” before impatiently drumming his fingers on the table.

“Ha! You should have seen Fred and George jump on Harry before. It was really funny,” Hermione tried again, desperately attempting to engage in conversation.

Ron nodded his head and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Very funny,” he said, unenthusiastically.

Hermione groaned loudly and stood up quickly. “You sort it out between yourselves then. You . . . you . . . argh!!!” she shouted, before storming out.

“Hermione?” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but I’ve lost my appetite,” said Hermione, poking her head back around the door, saying the last statement with a tone of utter disgust. “You can use my portion to ram down their throats,” she muttered, I was the only one to hear her.


“Did you have to do that, Ron?” Ginny asked, placing her plate on the table.

“What?” Ron exclaimed. “What did I do?”

Ginny dragged him outside, but I could still hear everything they said through the rotting wood. Ron repeated, “What did I do?”’

“You know very well what you did,” Ginny hissed. “Don’t act like the innocent.”

“What?” said Ron, flabbergasted. “This is my fault now, is it? It wasn’t me who dumped you. You have been a wreck all summer! If he really loved you…”

I had had enough. I headed out into the garden.

Mrs. Weasley turned back from washing dishes to find an empty kitchen awaiting her.

I lay on the warm grass, gazing up at the stars. Night had fallen now but the air was still warm and humid. The moon was bright above the sky, filling the garden with an eerie light. Somebody settled down next to me.

“Sorry about Ron,” she whispered.

I turned to see Ginny, gazing up at the stars as well. “He doesn’t really mean it, you know. He just wants what’s best for me.”

“I know,” I replied. “But . . . but…”

“But what?” she asked, propping herself up onto her elbow and turning her gaze from the stars to me.

“It’s nothing,” I said, wishing that I hadn’t even started this conversation. It was so much harder to stay true to my resolution when I could feel her body resonating heat towards mine.

“It is something. I can tell,” she said, her eyes full of concern.

“It’s not important,” I said again, standing up and walking towards the back of the garden.

“'Harry, I know you better than you think. Whatever you are thinking about is not 'nothing' and may even be important,” she said. I turned to look at her, standing with her hands on her hips. “Tell me,” she commanded. She reminded me of a commanding young boy I had once seen in a memory.

I turned around again and started walking away. Ginny caught up with me. “All the stuff that Ron was saying,” I began, staring hard at the wall in front of me. “I agree with. All the stuff he said about caring for you . . . loving you.” My voice cracked. “It broke my heart... I guess you could say I broke my own heart by ending it with you." I chuckled at how stupid I sounded. “I can’t see you get hurt. I can’t see you get killed. I know you said you didn’t care or anything, but I do. I could never . . . never live with myself if anything happened to you. You’ve got to believe that.”

Once I finished my monologue I didn’t dare look at Ginny. She touched my shoulder but I brushed it off. I felt something hit my collarbone. It was lighter than lips yet it meant so much more, a tear falling from the eye of a loved one. I pulled her into a hug, supporting her head on my chest. I couldn’t stop myself. The feeling of being with her again left me paralyzed to my prior decision.

A voice in the doorway interrupted us and we sprang apart.

“Harry! Ginny!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice shouted. “What are you doing out there? It is pitch black outside and it looks like it is going to rain!”

I looked up. The sky just a few moments ago had been peaceful and still, now it was covered by a thick, black cloud, blocking out the stars. Rain splattered on my glasses. I looked back at Ginny, her hair dark and hanging limp and wet on her head. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the house.

“Where have you two been?” Mrs. Weasley asked, accusingly. “Look at the state of yourselves. You’re soaked to the skin.”

I grinned. “I think I’ll go and get a shower,” I said, releasing my grip from Ginny.

“Not if I get there first.” Ginny raced past me.

She ran along the corridor towards the bathroom, me sprinting close behind. I grabbed her waist and swung her behind me. She jumped onto my back, forcing me to the ground. I rolled over, Ginny lying on top of my chest, laughing. I was laughing so hard, harder than I had ever laughed before. Hermione came out of Ron’s room, shaking her head as she walked past, which only made us laugh even harder.

“I . . . haven’t laughed . . . this . . . much since . . .” I stopped laughing and sat up, causing Ginny to slide off me. Memories flooded back to me, a green light…the white casket…phoenix song.

“Since Dumbledore died?” Ginny asked softly, taking my hand and squeezing it. I nodded and looked away.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ginny whispered. “It wasn’t your fault that Snape killed him.”

“Harry, I know you’re upset about what happened that night. We all are,” she breathed into my ear.

I turned around to face her and my breath caught in my throat. Without breaking our gaze, our lips met. She returned my kiss, her lips tasting sweeter and softer than I could ever remember. My hands cupped around her face as our kiss deepened. I was falling for her again, falling too far. No, I can’t do this. I can’t let myself get involved again. I pulled away abruptly.

“What?” Ginny asked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I quickly stood up.

“Can’t what?” Ginny asked, annoyed. “You can’t do this to me again. By acting the hero you are leaving loved ones behind. I’ve told you I don’t care. V . . . Voldemort might break you or he might break me, but he won’t break us. I love you. What are you going to do at Hogwarts next year? Avoid me forever?”

My heart dropped. I forgot that I hadn’t told her.

“Ginny, I’m not coming to Hogwarts next year. I’m going find Voldemort and finish him off if I can. I’ve got to,” I said steady, bracing myself for the storm to hit.

Ginny’s jaw set rock hard.

“What?” she snapped. “So you’re just going to leave me, Ron, and Hermione again.”

“Well, not exactly,” I said, carefully. “Ron and Hermione said that they wanted to come with me. But I don’t want them to. For the same reason, I can’t be with you. I care about them. I can’t let anything happened to them. I’ve noticed them . . . they’re scared. Can’t you see it? They are scared of what is going to happen, about what is happening right at this moment. That’s why they’ve got so close recently. They’re scared of dying. They’re scared of not being together. Please . . . please understand me. I’m only doing it for you. I’ve decided to carry on with my original plans anyway. To find Voldemort and take revenge. Let him feel the pain that I suffer every single day, every minute, every second . . . “

“Yeah, and what about the pain I’m feeling at the moment. Seeing my family being attacked. Seeing the only person I love going through so much agony,” Ginny shouted. “Why don’t you think about somebody else’s feelings instead of your own for once, Harry. We’re all scared, Harry. Everyone of us.”

She shook her head, tears filling in her eyes. She ran, away from pain . . . away from love . . . away from me . . .

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was a silent affair. Ginny was obviously keeping her distance, Ron was barely talking to me, and Hermione was too busy throwing glances at me to bother engaging in conversation. I had made up my mind. I wasn’t going to take them. The road was too deadly, too dangerous. It was something that I had to do by myself. No one else would get hurt because of me. Nobody would.

Night time. There was no moonlight that night. I had the cover of darkness to escape without being noticed. Ron was snoring loudly in the bed next to me. At least nobody would hear me go. My watch said 1:36. Time to go.

I quickly dressed, throwing a top and a pair of jeans on, throwing my cloak on for warmth. I was travelling light, nothing to hold me up. I wasn’t going to leave a letter; it would only cause pain and heart-break. Ron and Hermione would understand my reasons for going . . . eventually.

I opened the window slowly; the window creaking. Ron shifted in his sleep. I dropped my bag onto the grass and I followed. I took a final look at the Burrow. All these years of looking forward to coming here was a distant memory. I turned away and walked towards the fence. A noise in the bushes stopped me. I quickly pulled out my wand. A small shape emerged.

“So you were going to leave without saying goodbye then, Harry,” the familiar voice said. It was Ginny.

“Ginny, what are you doing out here?” I asked. “You must be freezing.”

“Don’t change the subject, Harry,” Ginny said, coolly. “Was this your great act of heroism? To leave and not tell us when you were going? Cause more pain with everybody wondering where you had gone? Leaving me to tell them all? How could you do that to us?”

“If I had said goodbye, it would only have been harder. Ron and Hermione would have wanted to come with me. I can’t take them with me. I can’t. What they’ve got… is special. I can’t risk destroying that.”

“And what we have isn’t special?” Ginny argued. “I can’t believe that you said that. Don’t you care anymore? Are you so wrapped up in V . . . Voldemort that you are blind to the fact that . . . the person that loves you the very most, is staring you right in the face.”

She grabbed hold of my hand.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “You can’t leave like this.”

“Let me go, Ginny,” I said. I tried not to allow my voice to waver. “I’ve got to do this myself.”

I pulled my hand away from hers. I could almost feel blood spurting from the break in my heart.

“Please.”

I turned and walked away, leaving her behind me.

Please.