A Broken Resolution


Harry Potter closed the door to Number 4 Privet Drive for what he sincerely hoped would be the last time and looked up the street. It hadn’t been a bad visit, he thought reflectively. It had certainly been short, as he had planned it would. Harry marveled at the fact that just three days earlier he was meeting his uncle at King’s Cross station for the last time. Not much could be said about his final farewell to his mother’s family. His uncle had grunted, his cousin didn’t say anything, but his Aunt- that’s where it was weird, Harry thought. When Harry looked from his Uncle to his Aunt Petunia, Harry was startled. Her horsy face held, not the look of disgust it had grown accustomed to over the years, but a look he had never seen her wear before. It was a few moments before he realized that his Aunt’s face held something that resembled regret, and if it was possible, fear. She looked at him and didn’t break his gaze, even after Harry had turned away.


Harry dragged his trunk to the curb and thought more on what that would mean. He knew that Petunia was his mother’s sister and despised the magical community, but exactly how much did she know about the world to which Harry was born? As Harry mused over this he stopped, threw out his wand hand, and a second later jumped back at the sound of a loud BANG! In front of Harry was a violently purple, triple-decker bus that had not been there a second earlier. The door of the bus swung open and out popped a young man Harry had never seen before. Harry was slightly taken aback. He knew that Stan Shunpike was still in Azkaban, but for some reason it didn’t occur to him that someone would’ve taken Stan’s place.


“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” began the man, “My name is Mike, and I’ll be your conductor today. Whereabouts are you headed?”


Harry watched as the man named Mike looked at him and then looked up at his scar. Harry could see comprehension dawn on the young man’s face, and before he could say anything else, Harry said, “The Burrow.” He heaved his trunk on board, shoved a handful of Sickles into Mike’s hand, and climbed on, taking care to find a seat in the back so that he would not have to talk to this new driver. Harry was not in the mood to talk to the replacement of a person who was wrongly accused and sentenced to Azkaban.


With another very loud BANG Harry was thrown backward as the bus began to move once again. Harry knew that the Burrow could not come soon enough
______


Harry made his way toward his second favorite place in the world with a sense of excitement and, at the same time, anxiety in his stomach. In just a few minutes he’d be embraced by Mrs.Weasley. He’d see Ron, and Hermione, and- Ginny. As his thoughts leapt to the youngest Weasley, his stomach did flip-flops and his feelings of anxiety mounted. How were they supposed to behave around each other now? They couldn’t pretend that nothing happened and go back to the way things used to be, could they? Harry took a deep breath and knocked. The door flew open and there stood the one person who had been more like a mother to Harry then anyone else.


“Harry! We weren’t expecting you so early! How did you get here? Were the Muggles all right? You’re not in trouble, are you? Oh, come in, come in!”


Harry felt himself break into the first natural smile he’d worn in weeks. He allowed himself to be ushered into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley left him at the table and bustled around the kitchen. He’d been sitting there a few seconds when Ron Apparated right in the middle of the kitchen. Harry jumped; Mrs. Weasley didn’t even look up.


“Ron!”


“Hi, Harry!” said Ron, grinning from ear-to-ear


“I see you’ve passed your test, then,” said Harry


Ron nodded. “Just yesterday,” he said. “Dad took me.”


“Well done, mate!”


Just then, Hermione walked into the kitchen, followed by Ginny. Harry looked up and felt his stomach flip over again. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.


“Ron,” said Hermione disapprovingly, “you don’t have to keep Apparating downstairs, we all know that you can now.”


“Harry didn’t. And besides, why do you care?”


Harry didn’t stop their bickering. In fact, he’d stopped paying attention to them altogether. He was focusing on Ginny. She was still looking at him. Her eyes held no anger; they held understanding. She had a smile playing across her lips. Harry continued to stare at her, smiling. She looked so beautiful. Why did he break it off with her? He was so happy with her, why weren’t they still together? He couldn’t remember.


Voldemort.


The word jolted his senses, and he finally looked away from Ginny. Voldemort was the reason he wasn’t with her anymore, because she’d be in danger, he reminded himself forcibly. She’d be in danger, and he couldn’t live with himself if she got hurt because of him. He sat mutely in his chair and watched Ron and Hermione continue to bicker, reminding himself over and over of the reason he was no longer with the one person who made him feel happier then he’d ever been in his life.


Often during the next few weeks that Harry spent at the Burrow, he found himself staring at Ginny longingly, and more then once he caught her looking back with that same blazing look she wore before he kissed her in the Gryffindor Common Room, what felt like a lifetime ago. It was always hardest during those rare moments when they found themselves in the same room together. Harry found that he was battling with himself continuously, especially during the night, when his restless brain wouldn’t let him sleep.


What if I made a mistake?

Voldemort will kill her if he finds out I’m with her.

He’ll find out anyway; I’m no good at Occlumency.

I can’t endanger Ginny.

We’re all in danger anyway.

She’s safer at Hogwarts this year then fighting Voldemort with me.

But what if something happens to her when I’m gone?

If she comes with me, something will happen to her.

I love her.

That’s why she can’t come.


Needless to say, the longer Harry stayed at the Burrow, the harder it was to be around her. Ron and Hermione were clearly trying to help, but it didn’t do much. Ron, probably more to avoid awkwardness then anything else, pretended nothing was going on and avoided the subject of Harry and Ginny altogether. Hermione often shot Harry odd, sympathetic looks but didn’t say anything. She did, however, spend a considerable amount of time talking in low voices with Ginny. And all the while Bill and Fleur’s wedding was drawing nearer.


The night before the wedding, everyone was in the living room. Ginny was talking animatedly to Fred and George on the other side of the room. Bill and Fleur were in the corner, clearly saying little yet staring avidly at each other. Bill seemed almost normal, save for a few noticeable scars and a considerable amount of hair on his face and arms. Mrs. Weasley was relaxing in a chair, watching knitting needles clicking in the air while her husband sat on the couch with their son Charlie, who had taken off a few days from work so that he could be at his brother’s wedding. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in a corner, whispering about the task they saw ahead of them


“Where do you reckon the Horcruxes are?” Ron asked


“I wish I knew, Ron. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find something at Godric’s Hollow,” Harry said.


“I don’t think we’ll find a Horcrux at Godric’s Hollow. I mean, Voldemort was most likely planning to make one after he killed you, but as he didn’t, I don’t think he had the chance to make one. Unless he went back there and made one in the past two years,” Hermione answered.


They’d had this conversation before, but that didn’t stop them from discussing it again. At this point all they had to go on was guesswork. They were planning to set out the day after the wedding. Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued to talk well after the others went to bed, discussing possible locations of the Horcruxes and thinking again and again on everything Dumbledore had told Harry last year. Finally, after midnight, they trudged up the stairs and went to bed. Harry fell asleep almost at once, his thoughts returning once again to Ginny.
_________


The day of the wedding, Harry woke up just as the sun rose over the horizon. He lay awake, thinking of what the next few days would hold in store for him and felt his stomach clench. He could just stay in bed all day, he lied to himself. He got dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen. As he opened the kitchen door, he saw Mrs. Weasley and Fleur talking and fixing Fleur’s hair for the wedding. Ever since they returned to the Burrow after the funeral, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were getting along much better.


“Oh, Harry, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, “I didn’t know you were up yet!”


“Isn’t it lovely?” said Fleur, admiring herself in the mirror she was holding, “Molly iz really very good wiz ‘air.”


Mrs. Weasley beamed and turned from Fleur back to Harry.


“I can whip up some eggs and toast if you’re hungry.”


“No thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I was just heading out into the backyard.”


“Ok, then,” said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, focus turned to Fleur’s hair once more.


Harry stepped out into the sunlit garden. He looked around and thought again on the last month. As his thoughts strayed to Ginny, he looked up at a window in the Burrow he suspected might be Ginny’s. He even thought he saw a streak of red flash past a window, but the next second it was gone, and Harry convinced himself that he just imagined it. He sat on the low garden wall, determined that he was going to get through the wedding without concentrating on Ginny.


He stayed there until the sun was high in the sky, thinking about Ginny and then forcing himself not to think of Ginny. He finally rose to go inside when he heard more voices in the kitchen. He took a deep breath and opened the back door, feeling a sense of foreboding suggesting that this day would be much longer then he expected.

_______


The ceremony and the reception were going to be held outside a little way from the Burrow. Hundreds of seats had been conjured on a patch of grass in front of a large arch. Harry walked down to the field with Ron and Hermione. Ginny was already down in the field. She had to be there early to prepare, as Fleur had instructed her that morning. Harry was thankful for this. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle walking next to her, sitting next to her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down toward the front of the rows and waited for the ceremony to start in silence.


Music started. Harry turned around and saw a small version of Fleur walking down the aisle. A closer look showed that it was Gabrielle, Fleur’s younger sister whom Harry had rescued from the lake in his fourth year at Hogwarts. She certainly had her older sister’s beauty, Harry mused as she passed his aisle. As Gabrielle reached the front Harry turned back around and a second later, forgot about Gabrielle. Indeed, he forgot everything, including his own name.


Ginny was walking down the aisle. She looked breathtaking in her pale gold bridesmaid dress. Her fiery red hair floated down over he shoulders, flowers dotting it here and there in a complementary way. As Harry stared at her, he felt a rush of affection. Ginny looked over at him and saw him staring at her. She smiled shyly, blushed, and looked down in front of her. Harry continued to stare at her shamelessly throughout the rest of the procession and the ceremony. He loved her. He loved the way she looked in her dress, the way the sun played with her hair. Harry stared at her, simply loving her. He was lost in his thoughts, lost in his love.
________


At the reception Harry sat at a table with Ron and Hermione. Ginny was dancing with her brother Charlie some way off. On the whole, Harry didn’t really talk much. He mainly just watched Ron and Hermione talk. He was only mildly surprised when Ron finally asked Hermione to dance. The two left Harry sitting alone at the table. He glued a happy, complacent look on his face, heart thumping, determinedly looking anywhere but at Ginny. However, this didn’t work for long. Ginny came up to the table where Harry was sitting and sat next to him.


“Hi,” she said simply


“Hi,” said Harry, his heart pounding very fast.


They sat in silence for a few moments before Ginny said, “Do you want to dance?”


“Yes,” replied Harry at once.


He called himself a brainless, spineless dolt for not being able to resist but rejoiced all the same as she led him to a spot on the dance floor and turned to face him. He put his hand on her waist and felt a thrill run up his spine. He hadn’t been this close to her since Dumbledore’s funeral. He was so happy to be with her again. She smiled up at him as they danced in silence. Harry found himself moving closer to Ginny and put his cheek against hers. They danced that way for a long time, completely lost in each other. Harry concentrated hard on exactly how his arms felt around her and how her cheek was pressed against his. The rest of the world fell away. All that existed was the two of them. Eventually, Ginny moved her cheek away from his to look up at him and said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”


“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully.


Harry led her off the floor, past Ron and Hermione dancing, Hermione’s head resting on Ron’s shoulder, her eyes closed. They both were smiling. Harry and Ginny walked a little way before Ginny said anything else.


“Are you going to leave soon?” she asked knowingly.


“Yes” said Harry again, then feeling as though he should say something more, added,
“tomorrow.”


“And you’re still not going to tell me where you’re going to go?”


“I’m sorry; I just can’t. I’ll explain everything after… after I’ve finished, but right now it’s better if you don’t know. It’s too much of a risk.”


“Ron and Hermione are going with you?”


“Ron and Hermione have been with me in this since the very beginning. I can’t do this without them, and they won’t let me go alone even if I want to. I want to be with you, but I don’t want you to come with us because…” He took a deep breath and voiced what he’d known for months, “Because I love you too much to let you risk it.”


Ginny looked up at him, “I love you too, Harry.” She moved close to him. Harry reached up and brushed her hair off of her shoulder, a few flowers fell to the ground. She grabbed Harry’s hand in her own and squeezed it tightly. Harry couldn’t take it anymore; he wrapped his arms around her, bent down and kissed her fiercely, pouring everything he’d felt for the past three weeks into that kiss. She kissed him back just as fiercely. Harry stopped thinking; he simply felt. He kissed her longingly, again and again, wishing as hard as he could that things could be different. He felt her press into him with the same sense of longing. After a while, they stopped kissing and simply stood there, wrapped in each other completely. Eventually, they broke apart and continued walking slowly, hands intertwined. Harry was thankful of the time he was able to spend with Ginny, praying silently that this would not be the last time they were together.