The Long Road Home, chapter 2
Rated:R
Summary: Sequel to Ginny's Gift. Read that story first. Harry must deal with the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat.
Ginny stared morosely into the skillet full of bacon as she mechanically turned it to keep it from burning. The previous two weeks had not been easy for anyone, and today did not promise to turn out any better. She glanced over at the kitchen table, where this morning's owl post lay, and sighed. With any luck, Harry would not come down for a while, and they would be spared his inevitable reaction until then…
In the two weeks since Harry had let the rest of the Weasleys in on his secret, things had only seemed to get worse. Ginny had sincerely hoped that telling everyone would help draw Harry out of his shell, but the opposite had occurred. He had withdrawn day by day, not just from her, but from the entire family. The only emotion anyone seemed to be able to provoke in him these days was anger, and no one seemed to be able to predict just what would set him off. As a result, the entire household had been tiptoeing around him, but that usually only made matters worse.
Ginny felt her eyes begin to sting, and she blinked hard, irritated with herself. Crying about the situation would do nothing to ease the pain it caused her. On one level, she thought she knew why Harry was pushing them all away. It was to make the parting easier on all of them. She was certain that, in spite of all the Weasleys' efforts, that Harry still felt he would have to leave them and make his way in the Muggle world somehow. But knowing that did not make it easier.
She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at the table again. Today's post wasn't going to disabuse Harry of any notions he might be entertaining about leaving the wizarding world.
"Ginny, you're letting the bacon burn!"
Her mother's voice shook her out of her thoughts, and she turned the sizzling strips just in time. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"It's all right, dear. We're all… preoccupied these days." Ginny's mother set the basket of eggs she'd just finished collecting on the counter, and began to break them into a bowl. "Has the post arrived?"
Ginny nodded towards the table. "Over there, but…"
The older woman looked up sharply. "What is it?"
"Go and see."
Her mother pursed her lips and went over to look at the two parchment envelopes, which were lying on the table. They were addressed in bright green ink, and one was noticeably thicker than the other.
"Oh dear," her mother sighed, as she put the envelopes back down, and covered them up with the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. "Let's hope he gets up late," she continued almost to herself, but Ginny knew what she meant. Harry was definitely not going to react well to this turn of events.
The sound of footsteps announced the imminent arrival of someone else in the kitchen, and both Ginny and her mother tensed up in spite of themselves. Ginny's father had already left for the Ministry, and the twins, Bill and Pauline had gone up to Hogsmeade earlier, so that didn't leave many possibilities open as to who could be coming down to breakfast. Both let out their breath when Ron appeared, followed closely by Hermione.
"Morning!" said Ron brightly, taking a seat at the table and picking up the morning's paper. " 'You-Know-Who Sighted in Siberia,' " he read aloud. "Not more of that rubbish!" This was only the latest of many supposed Voldemort sightings, all of which had proven false so far.
"Honestly," said Hermione, craning her neck to see the headline. "Why do they insist on printing rumours? They only incite people to hysteria for no reason. Why can't they deal in something positive, like the effort to rebuild Hogsmeade?"
"Oh, there's something about that, too," replied Ron, pointing. "There's a small mention here at the end of the article."
Hermione read the line and snorted impatiently. "They're not painting it in a very uplifting light are they? Implying it'll all be for nothing if Voldemort isn't really gone…" She trailed off, and Ginny wondered if it had occurred to anyone else what a terrible thing it would be if Harry's sacrifice turned out to be all for naught.
"What's this? Here, Ron, there's one for you, too!" Hermione had obviously spied the morning's post.
Ron looked up from the paper and took his envelope from Hermione. "Is that what I think it is?"
Hermione had already torn her envelope open in her excitement. "Final NEWT results!" she squealed.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you really have to look at those? Come on, we all know what they must say. Highest NEWT results in over three centuries. Hell, I'll bet they're the highest in the history of the school."
"Don't swear, Ron," Hermione said automatically. "What do yours say?"
Ron seemed a lot more reluctant to look at his results. Ginny wondered if he was afraid they wouldn't be high enough to get him admitted to Auror training. Slowly, he opened his envelope, and they watched as his expression slowly brightened. "Wow," he said quietly, "did better than I thought. Look at my Potions mark…"
Ginny and her mother exchanged a look. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to have noticed that there was no envelope addressed to Harry. Hermione and Ron traded parchments. "What did I tell you?" said Ron proudly as he read over Hermione's results. "These have to be the highest results ever." Then he looked at her envelope. "You've got something else in yours. Must be some sort of certificate of honour."
"Where?" Hermione had evidently not noticed the extra sheet of parchment in her envelope. She reached for it pulled out the second sheet.
"What's going on?"
Ginny's heart sank as Harry came into the room. He was unshaven and still wearing his pyjamas. The beard he'd had two weeks ago was gone now. Her father had unearthed an old-fashioned safety razor from his collection of Muggle items, and Harry had been putting it to occasional use. Some days he couldn't be bothered to get dressed at all, and today looked as if it was going to be one of them.
Mrs Weasley stepped in before anyone could reply to Harry. "Have a seat, Harry, dear. Your breakfast is almost ready." Then she looked at Ron and Hermione. "Clear all that off the table so you can eat."
But it was too late. Harry had spied the seal on one of the envelopes. The atmosphere in the room thickened at an alarming rate. "Are these NEWT results?" he asked, picking up Ron's parchment. "Snape must be going soft in his old age."
Ron gave a very forced laugh. "Yeah. Maybe someone hit him with a spell, and it made him go off in the head."
"Or maybe it set him right after all these years." Everyone stared. For an instant the old Harry was back, but then he was gone as quickly as he had come. "We'll know for certain when we see my results. Where are they?"
Hermione made a show of looking for a third envelope. "They don't seem to be here. Maybe there was some sort of delay."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe." But he didn't sound very convinced. Then he turned his attention to the plate Ginny's mother had set in front of him. Everyone followed his lead and began eating, and Ginny hoped the situation had been defused.
"So," Harry asked Ron after a while, "are you still planning on going in for Auror training?"
"I, uh, haven't really decided yet."
"I think you ought to. Those results are good enough, aren't they?"
"I suppose so," said Ron in a non-committal tone.
"What about you, Hermione? I don't see you crowing over your results. They must be good."
Hermione didn't reply.
"What's the matter with all of you?" Harry asked sharply. "So I haven't had my results yet. It's not as if I'm going to need them. What does it matter if there's been a delay? What was I going to do with them anyway?"
Ginny stared down at her plate, but she couldn't eat another bite. She had a sickening feeling this was about to turn ugly. Harry looked at them all in turn. "Life goes on. Your lives do at any rate. You don't have to stop discussing it for my benefit."
"Harry…" Hermione began, but she was interrupted by a popping noise in the fireplace.
"Molly, are you there?" Mr Weasley's voice called out.
"Yes, Arthur." She sounded grateful for the interruption. She rose from her chair and went over to the fireplace. Ginny looked up then and saw an envelope change hands. It was clearly addressed in the same green ink that appeared on Ron's and Hermione's letters. She couldn't hear her parents' exchange, as they were talking in hushed tones, but she could work out easily enough whom they were discussing.
Harry could, as well. He stood up so that her father could see her from the fireplace. "I'm here, you know," he said loudly. "You don't have to discuss me as if I wasn't."
Ginny saw her mother start slightly, no doubt at the apparent irritation in Harry's tone. "Of course, dear," she said, handing the envelope. "This is for you."
"Your NEWT results," supplied Ginny's father. "They, er, well, they got misdirected somehow."
"Of course they weren't misdirected," said Harry. "The school owl couldn't find me, could it?"
Ginny saw her father look behind him, as if he was afraid of the conversation being overheard. "Yes, something like that," he said quietly so that Ginny had to strain to hear him. "The owl would have returned to Hogwarts when it was unable to locate you."
"Wonderful!" Harry shouted. "Just perfect! So now they know up at Hogwarts that owls can't find me. How am I going to manage to keep anything a secret at this rate? Everyone'll come to the conclusion on their own…"
"It won't be a secret long if you don't keep your voice down," Hermione hissed. "If anyone's in Mr Weasley's office, they might overhear you!"
"Harry, I think I've got that angle covered," replied Ginny's father. "Hogwarts sent this directly to me. Here. They know up at the school you're staying at the Burrow, and I sent a reply thanking them. In it, I said any further correspondence would have to be sent through me, because we've placed Charms on you so you can't be traced. As a way of keeping reporters from bothering you, you see…"
Some of the fight went out of Harry at that; his stance became visibly less belligerent. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"In any case, I need to get back to work. I'll see you all tonight." And with a pop, Ginny's father's head disappeared.
Harry returned to his place at the table, shoulders slumped. He pushed his half-finished plate away and sat there, turning the envelope over and over in his hands. The room fell silent, as everyone else at the table waited for Harry to look at his results. But he didn't. He just sat and stared at nothing in particular, eyes apparently not focused on anything. And all the while he turned the envelope.
Finally, Hermione could stand it no longer. "Aren't you going to even look at your results?"
It was the wrong thing to say. "WHY?" Harry shouted, and Ginny jumped at the suddenness of it. "What's the point? I suppose you want to know, though, don't you? You made me take the bloody things, after all. Will it make you happy if I look?"
Hermione had gone white. "I'm sorry, Harry. Just forget I said anything…"
"STOP IT! All of you just stop it! Stop treating me like a baby! Stop trying to spare my feelings! Stop talking in whispers whenever I'm around! Stop treating me like I'm some sort of invalid! Just… Just stop!"
Ginny couldn't help the next thing that came out of her mouth. She'd been sitting quietly in her corner, taking it all in, but she couldn't stand it anymore. "Maybe if you want us to stop treating you like a baby, you should stop acting like one."
Harry stood then, the force of his movement causing his chair to topple sideways to the floor with a loud clatter. Then he was gone, the sound of his angry footsteps echoing through the Burrow as he climbed the stairs. The envelope with his NEWT results lay abandoned on the table.
Ron rounded on his sister. "What did you have to go and say that for?" he demanded.
"Don't you start on me, Ron," she replied hotly, but then suddenly she felt a sob rising in her throat, and she was powerless to stop it.
She got up from her seat and ran for the door, ignoring her brother's shouts behind her. Choking on her tears, she hurried into the yard. She didn't think about where she was going, she simply found herself in the darkness of her father's shed. There was something cool and comforting about it. She buried her face in her hands and let the tears come then.
When a pair of comforting arms surrounded her and began rocking her, she didn't question it. She simply let herself fall into their maternal embrace. She recognised her mother's special brand of comfort before she even heard the familiar voice crooning, "There, there," to her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd let her mother hold her like this, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd been twelve at the time.
Her tears spent at last, Ginny pulled back from her mother, but she hardly knew what to say. She was overcome with the desire to tell her mother everything, but she didn't know where to begin. At last she blurted, "Oh, Mum, why did I just say that to him?"
"Because it's the truth, dear. Only he isn't ready to hear it yet. You need to give him more time to adjust. This is such a major change, and he hasn't had time to get used…"
Ginny interrupted, her anger coming back. "He had plenty of time to get used to the idea beforehand. Didn't you hear his explanation? He knew about this for two months, and he knew full well what he was doing. Not that he saw fit to tell any of us about it…"
"Ginny, dear, maybe he didn't feel comfortable sharing this with you, if he couldn't even share it with Ron."
"How much more comfortable did he expect to get with me? Hermione knew, for God's sake. But she's not his girlfriend. I am!"
"Girlfriend?" Her mother sounded hurt now. "But you told me last January that there was nothing going on between you…"
"It's because I thought there wasn't at that point…" Ginny trailed off. "It's complicated. We'd had a row, and we were both under the impression the other didn't want to be together anymore. We patched that up afterwards. We promised…" She broke off again, unsure of how much she wanted her mother to know about her relationship with Harry.
"Promised…" her mother prompted sounding a bit apprehensive.
"We'd promised to tell each other if something was wrong. And he didn't do that. When he found out about the spell, he didn't tell me about it. I only found out at the same time as Ron and Hermione did. Once it was too late."
Her mother gave her a reassuring hug, and Ginny suddenly found herself telling her mother about her relationship with Harry from the beginning. She kept some of it to herself, of course. She didn't think her mother wanted to know that she'd sometimes become too caught up in kissing Harry to stop his hands from wandering. Nor did she think her mother wanted to know how her own hands had wandered on occasion. She didn't think her mother would appreciate knowing they'd already shared a bed, however innocently, and she knew her mother wouldn't like hearing how close they'd come to crossing the final line on her birthday.
When she'd finished, her mother drew in a long breath. "It must have hurt a great deal when he shut you out then."
"Yes, Mum, it did." And then she told her mother what happened the morning Harry had woken up in the hospital wing. That had been the beginning. That had been the foundation of the wall that was between them now, and every day seemed to add another brick to the structure. Ginny found herself wondering if one day it would be too high to overcome. The idea caused fresh tears to burn in her eyes, and she felt her mother gather her close once more.
Slowly she began to tell her mother about something that Harry had done to her last week, something she'd kept to herself, since there had been no witnesses. She'd come into the kitchen, and he'd been watching something happening outside, so that his back had been turned to her. He'd been avoiding being alone with her as much as possible, but this time he hadn't withdrawn when she came in. She'd gone over to the window, intrigued, because he seemed to be paying close attention to whatever was going on. He'd been holding a glass of pumpkin juice, and there had been a slight smile playing about his lips.
Looking out the window, she'd seen Ron being chased by a legion of garden gnomes. Some of the creatures had managed to get hold of his gangly arms, and had been hanging on for dear life, while others had been desperately trying to grab Ron round the ankles. The twins had been off to one side, holding their sides, as they laughed at the scene, and Ginny had been sure they'd somehow managed to charm the gnomes into pursuing Ron.
Harry had taken a sip of his juice at the moment when the gnomes had finally managed to pull Ron to the ground and swarm over him. Harry had let out a bark of laughter, the first genuine laughter Ginny had heard from him in weeks, and spit pumpkin juice down the front of his shirt. She'd recognised it as one of the shirts he'd purchased with her last summer in London.
She still wanted to kick herself for what she'd said to Harry then. She hadn't meant anything by it. It had just come out. "Poor Ickle Harry, perhaps we need to put a bib on you." As she'd said the words, she'd taken her wand out to charm away the orange stain.
Harry had rounded on her, his laughter extinguished immediately. "Don't you dare use magic on me!" he'd snarled at her. "Just because I'm not as good as you since I'm a Muggle now, doesn't mean you can follow me around all day cleaning up after me!" And he'd stormed out of the room.
"I'm sorry he's taking it out on you, dear," her mother said when Ginny had finished. "It isn't right, but you know what they say… You always hurt the one you love."
Ginny sniffed. "I don't know that he loves me. He's doing this to everyone, not just me."
"He's been tetchy with everyone, but he's being harder on you, isn't he? Just now, he walked out because of something you said…"
"Because I was stupid and didn't think before I said it."
"It was only the truth, and from the sound of things, you've been keeping a good bit of hurt to yourself, haven't you?"
"I suppose, but…"
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, Mum, I do."
"So it hurts all the more, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but…"
"He's pushing you away."
Ginny hesitated for a moment and then admitted to something. "I'm afraid, Mum. He's trying to make me hate him. And if he manages it, he'll just leave. We won't see him again."
Ginny heard he mother catch her breath. "He can't do that. We're the only family he has."
"He'd do it, Mum. He can't stand us feeling sorry for him."
"But he can't leave…"
"If he took it into his head to leave, there's nothing we could do to stop him. He'll leave, and he won't come back, and we won't even be able to send him an owl. He'll just disappear on us…" Tears were threatening again. "Mum, what can I do?"
"You have to talk to him, Ginny."
"But I can't. He keeps shutting me out."
"You have to be patient and keep after him. You need to show him that this is causing you pain, too. That this is hurting more than just him. You can make him understand that, even though you can't imagine what he's going through, that he's hurt you as well. And he needs to understand that we need him as much as he needs us."
"Bit of a tall order, isn't it?"
"I never said it would be easy, but if anyone can get through to him, I think you can."
Her mother was gathering her close for another hug, and Ginny let out a long, shaky sigh. "Thanks, Mum."
"I'm not going to have my little girl much longer…"
Ginny rolled her eyes, even though she knew her mother couldn't see it. "Mum…" she protested.
"You're all grown up, or nearly. Starting your last year of school… You will be careful, won't you?"
Ginny pulled back and started at her mother in the shed's half-light. "Careful?"
Her mother looked back rather sternly. "Yes, careful. You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
She certainly did now. "Harry and I haven't… we haven't…"
"You haven't?" replied her mother sceptically, and Ginny thought she'd raised an eyebrow.
A blush was creeping over Ginny's face, and she was glad that there wasn't very much light in the shed. "No! Nothing like that…"
"As I say, be careful. Remember who you are." Ginny wasn't certain what her mother meant by that, exactly. It might have been several things at once: that she was a Weasley, and that she needed to remain true to herself were only two possibilities.
"Mum, it's not very likely we'll be doing anything. We're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment…"
"And what's going to happen once you've patched things up between you?"
Ginny couldn't reply to that. She'd already experienced what that could be like, but she wasn't about to tell her mother about it. So she merely said, "Yes, Mum."
"I want you to know you can always come to me…"
"Yes, Mum," Ginny said a bit louder, becoming more and more uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.
Her mother must have sensed Ginny's discomfort, for she relented. "Come on, let's go back inside."
Ginny followed her mother back into the kitchen, where they found Ron and Hermione had cleaned up the remains of breakfast. Ginny noticed her mother casting a worried eye towards the clock. "Oh dear, look at the time!" The single hand on the clock was leaning dangerously close to You're late. "I've got a hundred things to do today…"
"Go do them, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione. "We'll be all right here."
Ginny saw her mother glance in the direction of the staircase. "I don't know… I really need to go into Diagon Alley…"
"Everything will be fine," Hermione reassured her. "You go on. It'll do you good to get out of the house."
"I might not be back until supper time."
"We'll manage, Mum," said Ron, and Ginny thought he spoke rather quickly. Her mother didn't seem to notice Ron's eagerness to get her out of the house, however, which was probably most fortunate for him.
"All right, then. Let me just change out of these old robes. I won't be a moment."
Once her mother was out of earshot, both Ginny and Hermione turned to Ron. "What have you got up your sleeve?" Hermione asked him suspiciously.
Ron grinned, and his eyes sparkled. "I'll tell you once the coast is clear. Just be patient."
So they waited, trying their best to look busy in the now-spotless kitchen until Ginny's mother had left for Diagon Alley through a roar of emerald flames. Then Hermione looked at Ron expectantly, but Ron turned to address Ginny instead. "You don't mind if we leave you here with Harry, do you?"
"Ron," Hermione broke in, "do you really think that's a good idea?"
"I thought you wanted to ring your parents," Ron pointed out. "We'll have to go into the village for that."
"Why not?" said Ginny. "We'll be all right. What could happen?"
"Well, yes," said Hermione, "I did want to tell them about my NEWT results. That certainly isn't going to take all day."
The tips of Ron's ears began to go red. "I thought… Well, I thought that since Mum is gone, we could go have lunch in the village, and, you know, take our time coming home…"
Hermione still seemed hesitant. "Go on, the two of you," Ginny said. "I'll be perfectly fine." She didn't think it was necessary to point out that it would be as if she were home by herself. She didn't expect to see Harry for the rest of the day after the scene at breakfast. It was just as well. Ginny wanted some time alone to think about how she was going to approach him.
"If you're sure…" Hermione began.
"Of course, I am. Out! Go on… Clear off!"
"Erm," said Ron, as he and Hermione headed out the door, "don't expect us back too early." And then they were gone.
Ginny turned for the stairs, noticing as she did that Harry's letter containing his NEWT results was still lying forgotten and unopened on the kitchen table. She hesitated, wondering if she ought to take it up to him. She knew she'd probably provoke another angry response from him if she tried to make him look at his results, but at the moment she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She wished for some sudden inspiration of wisdom that would tell her the best course of action to take with Harry. She sighed when it didn't come. Talking with her mother had helped, but it hadn't given her any sort of magical solution. Something made her pick up the envelope, in spite of her indecision, and put it in her pocket.
The house was silent, as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She might well have been the only one at home, for all the difference Harry's presence seemed to make. She missed him. God help her, but she missed him.
The door to her bedroom was ajar, and she gave it an unhappy shove. It swung open to reveal Harry's Firebolt lying on her bed. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch. Perhaps the emptiness of the house had been more than just an impression. Perhaps he really was gone. It was the only reason she could think of for him to leave his Firebolt for her. Even if he couldn't use it, he'd want to keep it for himself, wouldn't he?
But no, he couldn't be gone. They would have noticed if he'd left the house. Ron and Hermione had been in the kitchen and would have said something.
"Harry?" she called out.
Her heart began to pound, as her voice echoed out into the corridor, unanswered. She followed it out onto the landing and looked up the staircase that led to Ron's room. Maybe he was napping. He'd been sleeping quite a lot these days… or pretending to, at any rate. He could be up there ignoring her.
But Ron's room was empty too, she found once she'd climbed to the top of the house. She pushed the door open wider and found Harry's things strewn about. His trunk looked as if it had been kicked over. She thought she ought to feel better to find that Harry had not packed up all his things, but somehow she was only filled with a greater sense of foreboding. Something was wrong, here. Very wrong.
A book lying face-down in the corner, its pages crumpled under the weight of its covers, as if it had been thrown there, caught her eye. She thought she'd seen this book before. It had seemed to make the rounds among the older boys last year at school. She'd had no idea it belonged to Harry, but she thought, it must, since all the things that had been tossed about the room were plainly his.
Picking it up, she read the title out loud to herself. "Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards." Something made her open the front cover. "A friend in need is a friend indeed," was inscribed on the inside of the cover. Something about those words struck a chord deep within her. But how was she supposed to be Harry's friend if he wouldn't let her in? Her mum had counselled patience, but perhaps she just needed to keep chipping away…
The first thing she needed to do was find him, though. She headed back down the stairs, not bothering to call out this time. If he was determined to ignore her, he wasn't going to answer her anyway. He might even try to hide if he knew she was looking for him.
She stopped at each storey as she descended through the Burrow, looking in all the bedrooms but finding each one of them empty. She didn't like the chill she was beginning to feel creep over her. It was as if she was in the presence of a ghost.
She got as far as the first floor landing before she noticed any sign of life. There were only two rooms on this floor, her parents' bedroom and a small bathroom. The door to the bathroom was partly open, and her eye caught a shadow of movement on the other side.
"Harry?" she called. "Is that you?"
There was no reply, but then, Ginny thought, who else could it be? Since the door wasn't quite closed, she didn't feel any compunction about going and opening it further. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw. Harry was there in the bathroom, standing at the sink. He didn't acknowledge her presence; he didn't even seem to be aware of it. He was staring down at his hand, as if in deep concentration.
Following the line of his gaze, Ginny was shocked at what he found so fascinating. In his right hand he held a naked razor blade. He had to have taken it out of the razor her father had lent him--Ginny could see the pieces of it lying on the edge of the sink. He held the blade poised in mid-air, as if he'd begun to raise it and then froze in place. Blood oozed from a small cut on his finger.
Ginny stood horrified for a moment. He couldn't be thinking what he seemed to be thinking, could he? Could he possibly want to escape them all to such an extent?
She took a step forward, and still he didn't move. Finally, she felt compelled to break the silence.
"Harry, what do you think you're doing with that?"
A/N: A huge thank you once more goes to Marian, my official arm-twister. She helped me write this again, and if I'm getting chapters out fast, it's because she's standing over me cracking the whip. Thanks also to my other betas and to all of you who reviewed chapter one.
Chapter 3
Summary: Sequel to Ginny's Gift. Read that story first. Harry must deal with the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat.
Ginny stared morosely into the skillet full of bacon as she mechanically turned it to keep it from burning. The previous two weeks had not been easy for anyone, and today did not promise to turn out any better. She glanced over at the kitchen table, where this morning's owl post lay, and sighed. With any luck, Harry would not come down for a while, and they would be spared his inevitable reaction until then…
In the two weeks since Harry had let the rest of the Weasleys in on his secret, things had only seemed to get worse. Ginny had sincerely hoped that telling everyone would help draw Harry out of his shell, but the opposite had occurred. He had withdrawn day by day, not just from her, but from the entire family. The only emotion anyone seemed to be able to provoke in him these days was anger, and no one seemed to be able to predict just what would set him off. As a result, the entire household had been tiptoeing around him, but that usually only made matters worse.
Ginny felt her eyes begin to sting, and she blinked hard, irritated with herself. Crying about the situation would do nothing to ease the pain it caused her. On one level, she thought she knew why Harry was pushing them all away. It was to make the parting easier on all of them. She was certain that, in spite of all the Weasleys' efforts, that Harry still felt he would have to leave them and make his way in the Muggle world somehow. But knowing that did not make it easier.
She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at the table again. Today's post wasn't going to disabuse Harry of any notions he might be entertaining about leaving the wizarding world.
"Ginny, you're letting the bacon burn!"
Her mother's voice shook her out of her thoughts, and she turned the sizzling strips just in time. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"It's all right, dear. We're all… preoccupied these days." Ginny's mother set the basket of eggs she'd just finished collecting on the counter, and began to break them into a bowl. "Has the post arrived?"
Ginny nodded towards the table. "Over there, but…"
The older woman looked up sharply. "What is it?"
"Go and see."
Her mother pursed her lips and went over to look at the two parchment envelopes, which were lying on the table. They were addressed in bright green ink, and one was noticeably thicker than the other.
"Oh dear," her mother sighed, as she put the envelopes back down, and covered them up with the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. "Let's hope he gets up late," she continued almost to herself, but Ginny knew what she meant. Harry was definitely not going to react well to this turn of events.
The sound of footsteps announced the imminent arrival of someone else in the kitchen, and both Ginny and her mother tensed up in spite of themselves. Ginny's father had already left for the Ministry, and the twins, Bill and Pauline had gone up to Hogsmeade earlier, so that didn't leave many possibilities open as to who could be coming down to breakfast. Both let out their breath when Ron appeared, followed closely by Hermione.
"Morning!" said Ron brightly, taking a seat at the table and picking up the morning's paper. " 'You-Know-Who Sighted in Siberia,' " he read aloud. "Not more of that rubbish!" This was only the latest of many supposed Voldemort sightings, all of which had proven false so far.
"Honestly," said Hermione, craning her neck to see the headline. "Why do they insist on printing rumours? They only incite people to hysteria for no reason. Why can't they deal in something positive, like the effort to rebuild Hogsmeade?"
"Oh, there's something about that, too," replied Ron, pointing. "There's a small mention here at the end of the article."
Hermione read the line and snorted impatiently. "They're not painting it in a very uplifting light are they? Implying it'll all be for nothing if Voldemort isn't really gone…" She trailed off, and Ginny wondered if it had occurred to anyone else what a terrible thing it would be if Harry's sacrifice turned out to be all for naught.
"What's this? Here, Ron, there's one for you, too!" Hermione had obviously spied the morning's post.
Ron looked up from the paper and took his envelope from Hermione. "Is that what I think it is?"
Hermione had already torn her envelope open in her excitement. "Final NEWT results!" she squealed.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you really have to look at those? Come on, we all know what they must say. Highest NEWT results in over three centuries. Hell, I'll bet they're the highest in the history of the school."
"Don't swear, Ron," Hermione said automatically. "What do yours say?"
Ron seemed a lot more reluctant to look at his results. Ginny wondered if he was afraid they wouldn't be high enough to get him admitted to Auror training. Slowly, he opened his envelope, and they watched as his expression slowly brightened. "Wow," he said quietly, "did better than I thought. Look at my Potions mark…"
Ginny and her mother exchanged a look. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to have noticed that there was no envelope addressed to Harry. Hermione and Ron traded parchments. "What did I tell you?" said Ron proudly as he read over Hermione's results. "These have to be the highest results ever." Then he looked at her envelope. "You've got something else in yours. Must be some sort of certificate of honour."
"Where?" Hermione had evidently not noticed the extra sheet of parchment in her envelope. She reached for it pulled out the second sheet.
"What's going on?"
Ginny's heart sank as Harry came into the room. He was unshaven and still wearing his pyjamas. The beard he'd had two weeks ago was gone now. Her father had unearthed an old-fashioned safety razor from his collection of Muggle items, and Harry had been putting it to occasional use. Some days he couldn't be bothered to get dressed at all, and today looked as if it was going to be one of them.
Mrs Weasley stepped in before anyone could reply to Harry. "Have a seat, Harry, dear. Your breakfast is almost ready." Then she looked at Ron and Hermione. "Clear all that off the table so you can eat."
But it was too late. Harry had spied the seal on one of the envelopes. The atmosphere in the room thickened at an alarming rate. "Are these NEWT results?" he asked, picking up Ron's parchment. "Snape must be going soft in his old age."
Ron gave a very forced laugh. "Yeah. Maybe someone hit him with a spell, and it made him go off in the head."
"Or maybe it set him right after all these years." Everyone stared. For an instant the old Harry was back, but then he was gone as quickly as he had come. "We'll know for certain when we see my results. Where are they?"
Hermione made a show of looking for a third envelope. "They don't seem to be here. Maybe there was some sort of delay."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe." But he didn't sound very convinced. Then he turned his attention to the plate Ginny's mother had set in front of him. Everyone followed his lead and began eating, and Ginny hoped the situation had been defused.
"So," Harry asked Ron after a while, "are you still planning on going in for Auror training?"
"I, uh, haven't really decided yet."
"I think you ought to. Those results are good enough, aren't they?"
"I suppose so," said Ron in a non-committal tone.
"What about you, Hermione? I don't see you crowing over your results. They must be good."
Hermione didn't reply.
"What's the matter with all of you?" Harry asked sharply. "So I haven't had my results yet. It's not as if I'm going to need them. What does it matter if there's been a delay? What was I going to do with them anyway?"
Ginny stared down at her plate, but she couldn't eat another bite. She had a sickening feeling this was about to turn ugly. Harry looked at them all in turn. "Life goes on. Your lives do at any rate. You don't have to stop discussing it for my benefit."
"Harry…" Hermione began, but she was interrupted by a popping noise in the fireplace.
"Molly, are you there?" Mr Weasley's voice called out.
"Yes, Arthur." She sounded grateful for the interruption. She rose from her chair and went over to the fireplace. Ginny looked up then and saw an envelope change hands. It was clearly addressed in the same green ink that appeared on Ron's and Hermione's letters. She couldn't hear her parents' exchange, as they were talking in hushed tones, but she could work out easily enough whom they were discussing.
Harry could, as well. He stood up so that her father could see her from the fireplace. "I'm here, you know," he said loudly. "You don't have to discuss me as if I wasn't."
Ginny saw her mother start slightly, no doubt at the apparent irritation in Harry's tone. "Of course, dear," she said, handing the envelope. "This is for you."
"Your NEWT results," supplied Ginny's father. "They, er, well, they got misdirected somehow."
"Of course they weren't misdirected," said Harry. "The school owl couldn't find me, could it?"
Ginny saw her father look behind him, as if he was afraid of the conversation being overheard. "Yes, something like that," he said quietly so that Ginny had to strain to hear him. "The owl would have returned to Hogwarts when it was unable to locate you."
"Wonderful!" Harry shouted. "Just perfect! So now they know up at Hogwarts that owls can't find me. How am I going to manage to keep anything a secret at this rate? Everyone'll come to the conclusion on their own…"
"It won't be a secret long if you don't keep your voice down," Hermione hissed. "If anyone's in Mr Weasley's office, they might overhear you!"
"Harry, I think I've got that angle covered," replied Ginny's father. "Hogwarts sent this directly to me. Here. They know up at the school you're staying at the Burrow, and I sent a reply thanking them. In it, I said any further correspondence would have to be sent through me, because we've placed Charms on you so you can't be traced. As a way of keeping reporters from bothering you, you see…"
Some of the fight went out of Harry at that; his stance became visibly less belligerent. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"In any case, I need to get back to work. I'll see you all tonight." And with a pop, Ginny's father's head disappeared.
Harry returned to his place at the table, shoulders slumped. He pushed his half-finished plate away and sat there, turning the envelope over and over in his hands. The room fell silent, as everyone else at the table waited for Harry to look at his results. But he didn't. He just sat and stared at nothing in particular, eyes apparently not focused on anything. And all the while he turned the envelope.
Finally, Hermione could stand it no longer. "Aren't you going to even look at your results?"
It was the wrong thing to say. "WHY?" Harry shouted, and Ginny jumped at the suddenness of it. "What's the point? I suppose you want to know, though, don't you? You made me take the bloody things, after all. Will it make you happy if I look?"
Hermione had gone white. "I'm sorry, Harry. Just forget I said anything…"
"STOP IT! All of you just stop it! Stop treating me like a baby! Stop trying to spare my feelings! Stop talking in whispers whenever I'm around! Stop treating me like I'm some sort of invalid! Just… Just stop!"
Ginny couldn't help the next thing that came out of her mouth. She'd been sitting quietly in her corner, taking it all in, but she couldn't stand it anymore. "Maybe if you want us to stop treating you like a baby, you should stop acting like one."
Harry stood then, the force of his movement causing his chair to topple sideways to the floor with a loud clatter. Then he was gone, the sound of his angry footsteps echoing through the Burrow as he climbed the stairs. The envelope with his NEWT results lay abandoned on the table.
Ron rounded on his sister. "What did you have to go and say that for?" he demanded.
"Don't you start on me, Ron," she replied hotly, but then suddenly she felt a sob rising in her throat, and she was powerless to stop it.
She got up from her seat and ran for the door, ignoring her brother's shouts behind her. Choking on her tears, she hurried into the yard. She didn't think about where she was going, she simply found herself in the darkness of her father's shed. There was something cool and comforting about it. She buried her face in her hands and let the tears come then.
When a pair of comforting arms surrounded her and began rocking her, she didn't question it. She simply let herself fall into their maternal embrace. She recognised her mother's special brand of comfort before she even heard the familiar voice crooning, "There, there," to her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd let her mother hold her like this, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd been twelve at the time.
Her tears spent at last, Ginny pulled back from her mother, but she hardly knew what to say. She was overcome with the desire to tell her mother everything, but she didn't know where to begin. At last she blurted, "Oh, Mum, why did I just say that to him?"
"Because it's the truth, dear. Only he isn't ready to hear it yet. You need to give him more time to adjust. This is such a major change, and he hasn't had time to get used…"
Ginny interrupted, her anger coming back. "He had plenty of time to get used to the idea beforehand. Didn't you hear his explanation? He knew about this for two months, and he knew full well what he was doing. Not that he saw fit to tell any of us about it…"
"Ginny, dear, maybe he didn't feel comfortable sharing this with you, if he couldn't even share it with Ron."
"How much more comfortable did he expect to get with me? Hermione knew, for God's sake. But she's not his girlfriend. I am!"
"Girlfriend?" Her mother sounded hurt now. "But you told me last January that there was nothing going on between you…"
"It's because I thought there wasn't at that point…" Ginny trailed off. "It's complicated. We'd had a row, and we were both under the impression the other didn't want to be together anymore. We patched that up afterwards. We promised…" She broke off again, unsure of how much she wanted her mother to know about her relationship with Harry.
"Promised…" her mother prompted sounding a bit apprehensive.
"We'd promised to tell each other if something was wrong. And he didn't do that. When he found out about the spell, he didn't tell me about it. I only found out at the same time as Ron and Hermione did. Once it was too late."
Her mother gave her a reassuring hug, and Ginny suddenly found herself telling her mother about her relationship with Harry from the beginning. She kept some of it to herself, of course. She didn't think her mother wanted to know that she'd sometimes become too caught up in kissing Harry to stop his hands from wandering. Nor did she think her mother wanted to know how her own hands had wandered on occasion. She didn't think her mother would appreciate knowing they'd already shared a bed, however innocently, and she knew her mother wouldn't like hearing how close they'd come to crossing the final line on her birthday.
When she'd finished, her mother drew in a long breath. "It must have hurt a great deal when he shut you out then."
"Yes, Mum, it did." And then she told her mother what happened the morning Harry had woken up in the hospital wing. That had been the beginning. That had been the foundation of the wall that was between them now, and every day seemed to add another brick to the structure. Ginny found herself wondering if one day it would be too high to overcome. The idea caused fresh tears to burn in her eyes, and she felt her mother gather her close once more.
Slowly she began to tell her mother about something that Harry had done to her last week, something she'd kept to herself, since there had been no witnesses. She'd come into the kitchen, and he'd been watching something happening outside, so that his back had been turned to her. He'd been avoiding being alone with her as much as possible, but this time he hadn't withdrawn when she came in. She'd gone over to the window, intrigued, because he seemed to be paying close attention to whatever was going on. He'd been holding a glass of pumpkin juice, and there had been a slight smile playing about his lips.
Looking out the window, she'd seen Ron being chased by a legion of garden gnomes. Some of the creatures had managed to get hold of his gangly arms, and had been hanging on for dear life, while others had been desperately trying to grab Ron round the ankles. The twins had been off to one side, holding their sides, as they laughed at the scene, and Ginny had been sure they'd somehow managed to charm the gnomes into pursuing Ron.
Harry had taken a sip of his juice at the moment when the gnomes had finally managed to pull Ron to the ground and swarm over him. Harry had let out a bark of laughter, the first genuine laughter Ginny had heard from him in weeks, and spit pumpkin juice down the front of his shirt. She'd recognised it as one of the shirts he'd purchased with her last summer in London.
She still wanted to kick herself for what she'd said to Harry then. She hadn't meant anything by it. It had just come out. "Poor Ickle Harry, perhaps we need to put a bib on you." As she'd said the words, she'd taken her wand out to charm away the orange stain.
Harry had rounded on her, his laughter extinguished immediately. "Don't you dare use magic on me!" he'd snarled at her. "Just because I'm not as good as you since I'm a Muggle now, doesn't mean you can follow me around all day cleaning up after me!" And he'd stormed out of the room.
"I'm sorry he's taking it out on you, dear," her mother said when Ginny had finished. "It isn't right, but you know what they say… You always hurt the one you love."
Ginny sniffed. "I don't know that he loves me. He's doing this to everyone, not just me."
"He's been tetchy with everyone, but he's being harder on you, isn't he? Just now, he walked out because of something you said…"
"Because I was stupid and didn't think before I said it."
"It was only the truth, and from the sound of things, you've been keeping a good bit of hurt to yourself, haven't you?"
"I suppose, but…"
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, Mum, I do."
"So it hurts all the more, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but…"
"He's pushing you away."
Ginny hesitated for a moment and then admitted to something. "I'm afraid, Mum. He's trying to make me hate him. And if he manages it, he'll just leave. We won't see him again."
Ginny heard he mother catch her breath. "He can't do that. We're the only family he has."
"He'd do it, Mum. He can't stand us feeling sorry for him."
"But he can't leave…"
"If he took it into his head to leave, there's nothing we could do to stop him. He'll leave, and he won't come back, and we won't even be able to send him an owl. He'll just disappear on us…" Tears were threatening again. "Mum, what can I do?"
"You have to talk to him, Ginny."
"But I can't. He keeps shutting me out."
"You have to be patient and keep after him. You need to show him that this is causing you pain, too. That this is hurting more than just him. You can make him understand that, even though you can't imagine what he's going through, that he's hurt you as well. And he needs to understand that we need him as much as he needs us."
"Bit of a tall order, isn't it?"
"I never said it would be easy, but if anyone can get through to him, I think you can."
Her mother was gathering her close for another hug, and Ginny let out a long, shaky sigh. "Thanks, Mum."
"I'm not going to have my little girl much longer…"
Ginny rolled her eyes, even though she knew her mother couldn't see it. "Mum…" she protested.
"You're all grown up, or nearly. Starting your last year of school… You will be careful, won't you?"
Ginny pulled back and started at her mother in the shed's half-light. "Careful?"
Her mother looked back rather sternly. "Yes, careful. You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
She certainly did now. "Harry and I haven't… we haven't…"
"You haven't?" replied her mother sceptically, and Ginny thought she'd raised an eyebrow.
A blush was creeping over Ginny's face, and she was glad that there wasn't very much light in the shed. "No! Nothing like that…"
"As I say, be careful. Remember who you are." Ginny wasn't certain what her mother meant by that, exactly. It might have been several things at once: that she was a Weasley, and that she needed to remain true to herself were only two possibilities.
"Mum, it's not very likely we'll be doing anything. We're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment…"
"And what's going to happen once you've patched things up between you?"
Ginny couldn't reply to that. She'd already experienced what that could be like, but she wasn't about to tell her mother about it. So she merely said, "Yes, Mum."
"I want you to know you can always come to me…"
"Yes, Mum," Ginny said a bit louder, becoming more and more uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.
Her mother must have sensed Ginny's discomfort, for she relented. "Come on, let's go back inside."
Ginny followed her mother back into the kitchen, where they found Ron and Hermione had cleaned up the remains of breakfast. Ginny noticed her mother casting a worried eye towards the clock. "Oh dear, look at the time!" The single hand on the clock was leaning dangerously close to You're late. "I've got a hundred things to do today…"
"Go do them, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione. "We'll be all right here."
Ginny saw her mother glance in the direction of the staircase. "I don't know… I really need to go into Diagon Alley…"
"Everything will be fine," Hermione reassured her. "You go on. It'll do you good to get out of the house."
"I might not be back until supper time."
"We'll manage, Mum," said Ron, and Ginny thought he spoke rather quickly. Her mother didn't seem to notice Ron's eagerness to get her out of the house, however, which was probably most fortunate for him.
"All right, then. Let me just change out of these old robes. I won't be a moment."
Once her mother was out of earshot, both Ginny and Hermione turned to Ron. "What have you got up your sleeve?" Hermione asked him suspiciously.
Ron grinned, and his eyes sparkled. "I'll tell you once the coast is clear. Just be patient."
So they waited, trying their best to look busy in the now-spotless kitchen until Ginny's mother had left for Diagon Alley through a roar of emerald flames. Then Hermione looked at Ron expectantly, but Ron turned to address Ginny instead. "You don't mind if we leave you here with Harry, do you?"
"Ron," Hermione broke in, "do you really think that's a good idea?"
"I thought you wanted to ring your parents," Ron pointed out. "We'll have to go into the village for that."
"Why not?" said Ginny. "We'll be all right. What could happen?"
"Well, yes," said Hermione, "I did want to tell them about my NEWT results. That certainly isn't going to take all day."
The tips of Ron's ears began to go red. "I thought… Well, I thought that since Mum is gone, we could go have lunch in the village, and, you know, take our time coming home…"
Hermione still seemed hesitant. "Go on, the two of you," Ginny said. "I'll be perfectly fine." She didn't think it was necessary to point out that it would be as if she were home by herself. She didn't expect to see Harry for the rest of the day after the scene at breakfast. It was just as well. Ginny wanted some time alone to think about how she was going to approach him.
"If you're sure…" Hermione began.
"Of course, I am. Out! Go on… Clear off!"
"Erm," said Ron, as he and Hermione headed out the door, "don't expect us back too early." And then they were gone.
Ginny turned for the stairs, noticing as she did that Harry's letter containing his NEWT results was still lying forgotten and unopened on the kitchen table. She hesitated, wondering if she ought to take it up to him. She knew she'd probably provoke another angry response from him if she tried to make him look at his results, but at the moment she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She wished for some sudden inspiration of wisdom that would tell her the best course of action to take with Harry. She sighed when it didn't come. Talking with her mother had helped, but it hadn't given her any sort of magical solution. Something made her pick up the envelope, in spite of her indecision, and put it in her pocket.
The house was silent, as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She might well have been the only one at home, for all the difference Harry's presence seemed to make. She missed him. God help her, but she missed him.
The door to her bedroom was ajar, and she gave it an unhappy shove. It swung open to reveal Harry's Firebolt lying on her bed. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch. Perhaps the emptiness of the house had been more than just an impression. Perhaps he really was gone. It was the only reason she could think of for him to leave his Firebolt for her. Even if he couldn't use it, he'd want to keep it for himself, wouldn't he?
But no, he couldn't be gone. They would have noticed if he'd left the house. Ron and Hermione had been in the kitchen and would have said something.
"Harry?" she called out.
Her heart began to pound, as her voice echoed out into the corridor, unanswered. She followed it out onto the landing and looked up the staircase that led to Ron's room. Maybe he was napping. He'd been sleeping quite a lot these days… or pretending to, at any rate. He could be up there ignoring her.
But Ron's room was empty too, she found once she'd climbed to the top of the house. She pushed the door open wider and found Harry's things strewn about. His trunk looked as if it had been kicked over. She thought she ought to feel better to find that Harry had not packed up all his things, but somehow she was only filled with a greater sense of foreboding. Something was wrong, here. Very wrong.
A book lying face-down in the corner, its pages crumpled under the weight of its covers, as if it had been thrown there, caught her eye. She thought she'd seen this book before. It had seemed to make the rounds among the older boys last year at school. She'd had no idea it belonged to Harry, but she thought, it must, since all the things that had been tossed about the room were plainly his.
Picking it up, she read the title out loud to herself. "Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards." Something made her open the front cover. "A friend in need is a friend indeed," was inscribed on the inside of the cover. Something about those words struck a chord deep within her. But how was she supposed to be Harry's friend if he wouldn't let her in? Her mum had counselled patience, but perhaps she just needed to keep chipping away…
The first thing she needed to do was find him, though. She headed back down the stairs, not bothering to call out this time. If he was determined to ignore her, he wasn't going to answer her anyway. He might even try to hide if he knew she was looking for him.
She stopped at each storey as she descended through the Burrow, looking in all the bedrooms but finding each one of them empty. She didn't like the chill she was beginning to feel creep over her. It was as if she was in the presence of a ghost.
She got as far as the first floor landing before she noticed any sign of life. There were only two rooms on this floor, her parents' bedroom and a small bathroom. The door to the bathroom was partly open, and her eye caught a shadow of movement on the other side.
"Harry?" she called. "Is that you?"
There was no reply, but then, Ginny thought, who else could it be? Since the door wasn't quite closed, she didn't feel any compunction about going and opening it further. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw. Harry was there in the bathroom, standing at the sink. He didn't acknowledge her presence; he didn't even seem to be aware of it. He was staring down at his hand, as if in deep concentration.
Following the line of his gaze, Ginny was shocked at what he found so fascinating. In his right hand he held a naked razor blade. He had to have taken it out of the razor her father had lent him--Ginny could see the pieces of it lying on the edge of the sink. He held the blade poised in mid-air, as if he'd begun to raise it and then froze in place. Blood oozed from a small cut on his finger.
Ginny stood horrified for a moment. He couldn't be thinking what he seemed to be thinking, could he? Could he possibly want to escape them all to such an extent?
She took a step forward, and still he didn't move. Finally, she felt compelled to break the silence.
"Harry, what do you think you're doing with that?"
A/N: A huge thank you once more goes to Marian, my official arm-twister. She helped me write this again, and if I'm getting chapters out fast, it's because she's standing over me cracking the whip. Thanks also to my other betas and to all of you who reviewed chapter one.
Chapter 3