Harry was thankful for the distraction of food in the Great Hall. Even in his storming anger, he was aware of the snickers and whispers that would surround him if this talk took place during a less convenient time.

The breeze caught beneath Ginny’s robes as she spun around, causing them to billow girlishly. “What?” she snapped.

“Wha- huh?”

“What do you want?” she repeated with a pestered tone.

“I . . . don’t want you to go about with Dean’s arm around you. It’s not right. I thought you had broken up!”

“What does it matter to you? Maybe he can manage courage enough to swallow his pride and ask me to go with him, unlike someone I know!”

“-You’re going with him again?”

“- Instead of running away as if his shirt tail’s on fire!”

“I didn’t run,” he grit his teeth.

“Did.” She crossed her arms.

“Look,” he began while pacing to and fro, “there’s something you don’t know about. I can’t . . . you . . . because . . . Because of a lot of reasons!”

“A lot? Or just one really stupid one?”

He growled at her, causing her to lean back in repugnance at his behavior.

“Why do you always have to make things difficult?” she egged. She would put an end to all of this, one way or another.

“I do not make things difficult. I have to think everything through. I don’t have the same luxuries as you! I have to protect everyone!”

“It’s not a luxury when it comes to this. It’s a right. Not everything is meant to be thought through,” she said bitterly. “And you don’t have to be everyone’s hero.” She stuck her chin out, daring him and waiting for the inevitable raging rebuttal.

He rounded on her. “Think I play the hero too much, Ginny? Maybe I do! Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you from Riddle. Maybe . . . maybe Sirius.” His voice squeezed on the name he avoided uttering. This time, the low sound emanating from his throat was directed toward himself. “He’d . . .”

Harry sat on a step behind Ginny, who quietly rested herself beside him. She glanced down at the step visible between them, and regretted what it symbolized. Her gaze drifted upward. His forehead was pressed forlornly into his hands. His lackadaisical hair peeped between his fingers. His aura pulsated with repressed grief. For the sake of decency, she turned her attention to her own interlocked fingers.

“Why did you bring this up?” Grogginess and tortured emotions infused his speech with a rough edge. “I knew what I wanted to say when I came out here.”

She ignored the fallacy of his first statement and latched onto his second. “And?” she asked sympathetically.

“And it’s gone.”

A worry gripped her chest. She was so sure the plan would work! “It’s not gone. I’m here . . .” His silence as a response crawled like iron nails beneath her skin. “God,” she groaned, “stop thinking about what might happen! Stop thinking at all!”

“How can I not think?” he asked coldly. It was chilling to her spine. She saw the unwanted resolution forming in his eyes, even with only the sidelong glances he was offering.

“No . . .”

He gave the tiniest of nods. Patches of red grew beneath his eyes. Ginny screeched in rage, shoving him as hard as she was capable and standing, moving in front of the object of her newfound petulance.

“You bastard! You can’t stop thinking about your destiny long enough to see what’s here right now!” She stomped the floor with emphasis, sending a clap ringing off of the walls and ceiling. “I’m here no matter what. So why does it matter if we’re together? Why? Why can’t you stop your sulking, self-pity long enough to try - to try! - to be happy? Huh? It’s pathetic!”

She raged up the stairs in a gush of frustration. She had to leave before the tears won. In her rush, she tripped only once, sending streaks of pain up her calf. Wordlessly, she continued on without a look back. She didn’t see Harry pull himself to his feet, following her at a slower speed. All she knew was that a consuming darkness was enveloping her chest, constricting her air so that it only came out in gasps.

She suddenly stopped cold upon seeing a lone student strolling in her direction. She wasn’t sure why, but was horrified at the prospect of someone knowing she was upset. She twisted her torso and followed it back in the opposite direction. Damn! Harry’s coming! Oh god, what do I do?

Trapped, she impotently turned toward the wall, averting her face from her offender.

“Ginny?” It came softly, regretfully.

“What the hell do you want?” She waited. “What!” she shouted, seemingly at the wall itself.

“I . . . don’t know.” She snorted. He continued. “I just . . . followed you.”

“Just leave if I’m not all that important to you. You don’t have to like me. I don’t need you to like me.”

“I know you don’t.” Her chest seized up when he didn’t negate the first bit. “But . . . I don’t want to think of how it would be without you . . . around. And I . . . I do . . . I’ve said it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head. “It means nothing if you do nothing about it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Then do it!” she sighed, exasperated. “I’ve taken care of myself before all of this. You know it. It’s just . . . it’s difficult now, I know. But we . . . can’t forget to live.”

Harry scoffed amiably. “Look who’s talking.”

She finally turned to face him. Her skin felt hot and blotchy. Her eyes rested on his chin. “Then help me remember as well,” she said cheekily.

“How am I supposed to do that? I’m the obsessed dolt on a self-pity holiday, remember?”

“Harry.” Silence hung between them. “Are we going to be together?”

A frightened look crossed his features as his eyes widened and his mouth clamped shut.

“We’ll try it for a bit, yes?” she spoke quietly. She’d prodded him this far, and didn’t want to lose it all at the last second. The moment was fading. Her last effort was upon her. “Now or never, Harry.” Her voice softened on his name.

Thoughts flittered across his features. She waited impatiently with the outward image of undisturbed calm. Finally, the air between them flattened and died. His face was empty and indiscernible. She bit the inside of her lip and turned to leave, the heat beneath her eyelids burning anew.

“Ginny?” he squeaked. She stopped at her second step away. She waited for the clear end. “Now.”

“What?”

“Now. Never sounds like a long time.”