Debris

Debris Chapter 2

            Wind and rain and darkness blurred Harry Potter’s vision as he ran blindly into the night. He passed through numerous carbon copy neighborhoods of Little Whinging, never once looking back. His thoughts were bordering insanity at what had just happened. What have I done? WHAT have I done? A force beyond his control had evolved from within him, and his shock and horror and panic had instinctively led him to bolt from number four, Privet Drive as quickly as his legs could carry him.

            He frantically tried to rationalize what had just happened:

            Harry changed his clothes. Ginny Weasley went to the kitchen to find some food for him. He lay back in his bed, his head throbbing from the energy it had taken to dress himself. His scar prickled as it did so often lately and he dismissed it without a second thought. He heard a commotion downstairs. Harry intuitively rose, wand in hand. He soundlessly stalked down the steps and turned to the hall that led to the kitchen. He heard Ginny. She was talking... about Harry. A raging heat filled his body; he listened to Ginny plainly discuss the lowest, most embarrassing moments of his life. He never, ever felt such a surge of pure hatred as he did at that moment. Before he could think, he was trying his hardest to...attack Ginny. Horrible curses came from his mouth. He seemed unable to stop. He had to hurt her... Cause her pain...Destroy her...

            Harry’s mind blurred. Lupin and Tonks tried to hold him back,but their grip on Harry began to slip. He couldn’t control himself. Something had taken over him; it would not subside.

            An alien heat filled Harry and he opened his eyes. A strange brightness permeated the room. In his stupor, Harry was only partially aware that the light had been filtering from within him. He felt the foreign, hateful actions in his mind fade as the light subsided. Harry blinked furiously in the sudden darkness.

              As his eyes finally became accustomed to the dark, his heart sank to his feet. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Ginny Weasley lay in slack heaps at his feet. Harry’s breathing became unsteady as a sharp, frightful scent stabbed his nostrils. Burning.... A sheen of sweat chilled his skin. Rancid panic tingled throughout his body as he paced in the small space between Lupin and Tonks.. He bent over them to make sure they were breathing. Lupin’s chest heaved in slow broken rasps, as did Tonks’s. Harry carefully stepped over them and leaned over Ginny Weasley’s small form. His breath caught in his throat. Though she was slowly and steadily inhaling and exhaling, Harry saw blotchy red welts covering her arms and face.....

            Harry grabbed Tonks and Lupin’s wands and stumbled out the door and into the garden. He shot vibrant red warning sparks up into the air with them before dropping the wands on the doorstep. Without a backward glance, he shot through the night, his weak legs running as fast as they could manage.

*********

            The dank, heavy scent of the barn Harry had slept in filled his lungs with a permanent coating of mildew. His eyes were dry and sore from the dusty old hay. Light shone through the cracks of the dilapidated barn boards and Harry wondered how long he had been asleep. He pushed himself up from his makeshift straw bed, fitted on his glasses, and walked to the small side door he snuck into the night before. His wand held tightly in his hand, Harry slowly cracked the door open a few centimetres. From what he could see, he was in the middle of a large plot of tall wheat. A scattering of evergreens lined the far side of the field. Harry could see no sign houses or people or...anything.

            Harry opened the door fully; his mind strangely alert and awake. He peered around looking for Death Eaters, but found nothing. There was a noiseless calm in the air...it was a peculiar sensation Harry had never felt before. He was completely alone. He walked slowly around the outside of the barn and found a small orchard of ancient gnarly apple trees and more evergreens, but no sign of life anywhere around the old barn.

            A thought suddenly occurred to Harry. No one knew where he was. If Voldemort had detected him, he’d have killed Harry in his sleep the night before. If Dumbledore or the Weasleys’ had known, they’d have come for him. He was alone; no one feeling sorry for him, no one looking over his shoulder or following him, no one getting hurt by his actions, no one prying into his head. He was utterly unattached from the hellish world of the Dursleys, and the intense world of the wizards – his thoughts his only company.

*********

 

*********

            Ginny Weasley turned over and groaned. Her face and arms throbbed hotly. She opened her eyes and saw the outline of her mother asleep in the chair on the other side of the darkened room. She turned her head and found a table with potions and bandages scattered among tall vases holding numerous assortments of lilies and tulips and roses. The smell of the flowers, however, didn’t cover up the rancid smell of the healing potions covering Ginny’s skin. She could feel the sticky stinging substances on the better part of the top half of her body. Bandages covered most of her arms and her head was tightly wound with cloth, but her hands were free and when she lifted her left one she found dark red welts covering it. Burns...

            The door to the room opened and closed quietly and Ginny closed her eyes. Someone hovered over her for a moment and then Ginny heard a chair being pulled across the floor. She opened her eyes and saw her brother Ron settling into a copy of The Daily Prophet.

            “Well,” she said in a whisper, “aren’t you going to say hello?”

            Ron froze. He dropped the paper and stared at Ginny, his jaw falling to the floor.

            “Bloody hell... BLOODY HELL! MUM!”

            “Well, that was a wonderful wake up call, Ron. Why don’t you scream a little louder? I’m sure the all the patients in the hospital didn’t quite hear you.”

            Molly Weasley jumped at the sound of Ron’s screaming. She hurried to the bedside, tears streaming down her pallid face. “Oh, Ginny...oh...”

            Thump.

            She promptly fainted to the floor.

            “Mum... oh, Ron, is she okay?”

            “She’s fine, just shocked, Ginny.” Ron grabbed one of Ginny’s pillows and carefully wedged it under his mothers head.

            “Oh, she overreacts too much,” Ginny said and rolled her eyes.

            Ron looked up from their mother with a face of bewildered astonishment.“Overreacts– Ginny, you’ve been out cold for four days! We thought you’d never come out of it. Mum’s been here the whole time...I don’t think she ate or drank or anything....”

            “Four days..., Ron! What happened? Is everyone okay?”

            “The Healer said you might’ve lost parts of you memory...”

            “No, no.... I remember everything, Ron. But what happened to everyone – Professor Lupin, Tonks...Harry? How are they? Are they okay? What’s been going on?”

            “Well, Lupin and Tonks woke up shortly after...whatever... happened. They’re okay. Just a few bumps and bruises. Tonks disapparated back to Grimmauld Place and got Mum and Dad while Lupin Portkeyed you here to St. Mungo’s.”

            “Well, that’s good,” Ginny said. From what Ginny had remembered, Harry had tried to attack her, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. She had betrayed his trust, and for that she was sorely sorry. However, a betrayal of trust does not constitute an all-out attack on a person. With the weak condition Harry’s body was in, Ginny couldn’t understand how he could have attacked her, or anyone for that matter. “How is...Harry?”

            Ron looked down to his feet and shuffled back and forth. Ginny knew that Ron’s stalling could only mean one thing– something bad has happened. Her stomach filled with dread.

            “What, Ron? Tell me.”

            “Well, Ginny...He um...” Ron stuttered, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “We’re not exactly sure where Harry is. He hasn’t been found.”

            Ginny felt tears welling in her eyes. Ron took her hand reassuringly. “We’re pretty sure he’s okay, though. He sent up warning sparks with Tonks and Lupin’s wands, so we don’t think he got hurt from what happened, but... urm... no one can find him.” Ron seemed to sense Ginny’s fear. He patted her hand and kissed her cheek. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, Ginny. You know Harry. He can fend for himself.”

            But the look on Ron’s face was falsely convincing. His eyes were uncharacteristically lined with dark rings of sleeplessness. Ginny wondered if he had been crying. Ron stooped down to check on their mother and slowly pulled her to stand. She looked very weak and white. Ginny gave her a smile.

            “Mum, I’m okay. Just a bit banged up.”

            “Oh, Ginny... Y...you have n...no idea...the worry...oh, my goodness....the burns...oh, Ginny!” She flung herself over the bed and squeezed the air out of Ginny’s lungs. At that moment, Ginny felt the extent of her injuries scream in pain.

            “Oh, Mum...it hurts, please, Mum. Not so tight...”

            “Sorry bout that, sweetheart. I’m just so...happy...”

            Ron had to peel their mother off of Ginny. He brought the chairs next to the bed. Ginny and her mum sat in silence as Ron went to notify the Healers and the rest of the Weasley family of Ginny’s awakening. Ginny saw her mother’s eyes change instantaneously from being completely overjoyed to being completely stark-raving mad.

            “What were you thinking? You could have been seen...you could have died... The horrors I put up with...you’re worse than Fred and George....”

            Ginny smiled. The same speech she had heard many times over rang throughout the room.

**********

            Three days and nights passed and still Harry had not been found. It was the first time in his life he had ever been by himself for so long. He had spent the days exploring the old farmland around the barn. He walked for hours in every direction and never found a house or a road or any signs of life other than the small animals and birds that had taken refuge in the barn or in the evergreens.

            An old barrel stood at the edge of the barn and caught rainwater as it fell off the roof, giving Harry plenty of fresh water to drink. He ate apples from the only apple tree in the orchard that still bore fruit. The nights were warm and Harry was grateful. The only way he knew to start a fire was to use magic, and he didn’t want to attract any attention to himself. Surely the Ministry of Magic would be on the alert for underage magic. They must be looking for me, after what I did to Lupin and Tonks, and....poor Ginny.

            Harry tried his hardest not to think about what had happened the other night to no avail. It had to be the Imperius curse...someone was controlling me...Harry thought over and over. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. When he lost control that night, a strange, sick pleasure emanating within him. The pain he had caused shamefully invigorated his inner senses; it gave him an odd.... satisfaction. Nausea threatened in his throat as the vivid memory of his feelings resurfaced. What is wrong with me?

             If they had died....but no. Someone surely would have found them. They were still breathing; there were so many Aurors around, someone must have come and found them. If not the Aurors, then the Dursleys, or the Weasleys’ looking for Ginny. Someone... All Harry knew was that he was in no hurry to get back to his life. The further away he stayed, the safer everyone would be.

*********

            Professor Dumbledore came to visit Ginny soon after she awoke. As he entered the room, Ginny was taken aback by his appearance. His face was pale and gaunt; his usually glimmering silver hair and beard were dry and gray and tangled, as if he hadn’t combed them for ages. The twinkle in his eyes was strangely absent. He looked....lost.

            “Any...news?” Ginny asked, already knowing the answer by Dumbledore’s distressed demeanor.

            “I’m afraid not...” he said quietly. He slumped into the chair beside the bed. His eyes were watery and bloodshot. He raised a quivering hand to Ginny’s and she took it in hers. His hand was cold and worn; he smiled wearily at Ginny and she felt his pain.

            “Professor, what happened? I don’t understand it. Harry just... well, he snapped....”

            “Yes, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks reported the story to the Order. However, we cannot be sure as to what happened until we find Mr. Potter, which is why I need to ask you some questions.”

            “Okay...” Ginny knew this was coming, but was not prepared for the questions to come directly from Professor Dumbledore.

            “Do you have any idea where Mr. Potter is? Any where he might go to hide? Do you know anyone who might take him in? Did he say anything to you about anything?” The volume of his voice rose with each word. His hand shook more and more, tightening around Ginny’s as if trying to squeeze the information out of her. Ginny felt a flutter of fear grow in her stomach. She had never seen Professor Dumbledore like this. He seemed...desperate.

            Ginny shook her head. Dumbledore’s eyes gazed down and he let go of her hand. His whole body seemed as if it would wither away. “Professor,” Ginny said, “Maybe you could send Hedwig, or Pig, or even Fawkes...Surely they could find him...”

            “Yes, Miss Weasley, we sent them out as we have about a dozen more owls with letters for Harry. None have returned. We have also sent out members of the Order. They’ve found nothing.” His bowed his head. The deep lines on his face seemed to deepen with his worry. “If you have any information, please tell me.” Ginny shook her head again; a tingle of tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

            Suddenly, Ginny felt a strange sensation in her head. It felt as if her thoughts were being pulled from her brain. She didn’t like it, but for some reason she could not break Dumbledore’s gaze.

            “Wha...what are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Weasley. I’m a Legilimens.” Ginny gave him a questioning look. “Occlumency. It is sort of like reading ones thoughts.”

            “I know what Occlumency is,” Ginny said shortly. She was only vaguely aware of what Occlumency was, but she didn’t want to look stupid.

            Professor Dumbledore smiled and gave a short chuckle, and it reminded Ginny of the Dumbledore she knew: kind, amused...alive.

            He slowly rose from his chair. He gave Ginny another small smile and started to walk towards the door.

            “Well?”

            Dumbledore turned back, his face passive. “Yes, Miss Weasley?”

            “Well, did you see anything helpful...in my mind? Any clues to where he is?”

            “No.”

            He sighed and turned back towards the door.

            “Professor?”

            “Yes?”

            “He’ll be okay. Harry can take care of himself.”

            “Yes, let’s hope so,” he said as he closed the door.

*********

*********

            Harry awoke before the sun. His body was sore from sleeping in the hay, but he’d had worse nights. He was extremely hungry; you can live on apples for only so long. His stomach grumbled and his head ached. He needed to find a better source of food. The lack of proper food was making him dizzy.

                        He got up from his makeshift bed and decided to search the surrounding fields for summer berries and other wild fruits and vegetables. He wished treacle tart grew on trees. The thought of that made his stomach growl louder as he stepped out into the dew-covered, overgrown field.

             An early morning haze of fog surrounded the old barn. Harry walked to the edge of the field where the evergreen trees thickened. He hadn’t ventured too far into the wooded area as of yet; it reminded him too much of The Forbidden Forest. He stayed in the field, but his eyes kept glancing into the trees. He scanned the ground at the tree trunks for anything edible.

            Suddenly, a strange rustling came from within the trees. Harry stepped backward quickly as a tremor vibrated the ground. He ducked down behind a large bush. It was probably a deer, but Harry didn’t want to take any chances. He crouched down as quietly as he could. Harry tried not to panic as the vibrations intensified; he could hear something sniffing the air.

            A huge brown blur of fur flew over Harry’s head and landed about 20 metres behind him. A loud booming voice bellowed from within the trees.

            “GRAWPY...NO! Bad Grawpy! Wha’d ya have ter do tha’ fer? We jus’ ate at half past. Yeh don’ need ter go killin’ more breakfast...”

            Harry looked at the heap of light brown fur on the ground and realized it was a very big, very dead deer. The ground shook once again and Harry tried to bury himself under the bush. But Grawp’s sense of smell was better than any tracking device. The giants enormous knees crashed down next to the bush as he knelt down to peer at Harry hiding under it. A hand the size of a car tire wrapped around Harry’s waist, crushing his ribs. He pulled Harry out from under the bush and pounded his way over to Hagrid.

            “Grawp found,” Grawp said to Hagrid. He held out his clenched hand to Hagrid as Harry tried to keep his arms over his face.

            “Grawpy, put em down, yer gonna crush em! Very sorry... he... er...he don’ know his own strength....” Hagrid stood Harry up and Harry reluctantly withdrew his arms and showed Hagrid his face. “Harry? Oh, Harry!” Hagrid bellowed and slapped Harry on the back. “Knew we’d find yeh! It’s Grawp’s nose ‘ere... giants ‘ave the bes’ sense o’ smell...It’s good ter see yeh, ‘Arry!” Hagrid pulled him into a huge hug. Harry knew these hugs, and remained limp to avoid any more damage to his ribs.

            “Wha’ the hell’re yeh doin’ out ‘ere, Harry? Why haven’ yeh contacted Dumbledore? Everyone’s lookin’ fer yeh.” Hagrid’s happiness of finding Harry faded as he questioned him. Harry couldn’t speak. He did not want to be found. Especially not by Hagrid and Grawp. The chances of escaping a half-giant and his whole-giant brother were slim to none. Harry bowed his head in defeat and led Hagrid and Grawp back to the barn.

*

            Hagrid promptly started a fire in front of the barn. Grawp speared the deer he caught, skinned it efficiently, and set it over the fire. The scent of roasting meat sent Harry’s stomach into a series of fierce rumbles. He had never smelled anything so wonderful in his life.

            “So, why’re yeh hidin’, ‘Arry? Everyone’s worryin’ bout yeh. Mrs. Weasley’s outta her gourd. Not ter mention Ron an’ Hermione.” Harry sat near the fire and rested his head on his knees. He didn’t want to hear all of this again. He heard enough of it from Ginny the night he left. All of them feeling sorry for him... poor Harry....what’s he going to do....where is he? The poor dear...

“Listen, Hagrid, I don’t need a lecture about who is worried about me. I don’t want tohear about how they want to help me or be there for me or whatever sympathetic crap they want to shovel at me. I don’t want to know who is going to save “poor Harry” this week. I just want to be left alone.”

            “Are yeh finished?” Hagrid asked.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, are yeh finished feelin’ sorry fer yerself? I’ve heard a lot o’ bull when it comes ter someone feelin’ down, but I’ve never heard such a sorry soundin’ line than the one you jus’ gave me righ’ now.” Hagrid got up from his spot in front of the fire. He winked at Harry and turned the spit of meat to roast the other side. Drips of fat sizzled in the fire.

            “What are you talking about, Hagrid? I’m– I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’ve had bad stuff happen to me for my whole life and I’m just sick of everyone trying to help me feel better or whatever. Do you know how it feels, Hagrid, when someone is on your every move, making sure you’re ok, asking how you are, how you’re feeling?”

            “No.”

            “Well, it’s annoying,” Harry said and stood. He felt his anger bubbling to the surface just as it had when Ginny had upset him.

            “Wha’ do yeh expect, ‘Arry? All of them care about yeh! Yer should be proud ter call them yer friends, me included. Yer shouldn’ ave left. Yer makin it look like yeh wanted ter hurt them.”

            “Hurt who?”

            “Lupin an’Tonks an’little Ginny! Who’d yeh think? Or did you ferget ‘bout that?”

            “No, I didn’t forget! I just....I’m just...” Harry sat back down. He didn’t want to tell Hagrid how afraid he was. Afraid, for them, afraid for himself. “Did I hurt them badly?”

            Hagrid came over and sat next to Harry. He rested a huge arm on Harry’s shoulders and Harry sucked in his breath, preparing himself for the news of his friend’s fate.

            “Remus an’ Tonks’re fine. But Ginny...” Hagrid paused and rubbed his hands over his face.

            “What, Hagrid? What about Ginny?”

            “She’s been in St. Mungo’s ever since tha’ night. Jus’ woke up yesterday, in fact.”

            “Yesterday? What’s wrong with her? Is...is she going to be all right?”

            “Yeah...I think so. She’s got burns, though, and...”

            “Burns? From what I did? I knew I saw some welts on her when I left, but if they’re just burns...can’t the Healers do anything for her?”

            “They’ve been tryin’, bu’ nothin’ seems ter be workin’. Magic burns ain’t the same as regular burns, but I’m sure they’ll fix ‘er up real good.”

            Harry felt as if someone was stepping on his chest. He was glad he hadn’t killed anyone, but what he had done was completely unacceptable. Why did he get so angry? What had come out of him?

            Hagrid pulled the spit off the fire and called Grawp from the field. Harry accepted a large helping of roasted venison and settled in. The food was a welcome to his stomach. Hagrid saw Harry’s ravenous hunger and laughed.

            “Eat up, ‘Arry. Grawp could finish this in one bite.” Harry grabbed more meat and ate his fill. Midday sun beat down and humidity set in. Harry offered Hagrid and Grawp some water from his barrel and Grawp promptly drank it all. Hagrid laughed and pointed his pink parasol at the bucket, refilling it to the brim with fresh, cold water.

            “So, ‘Arry, I guess we’ll be off, then.” Hagrid started walking towards the forest with Grawp pounding his way a few feet ahead.

            “So...so that’s it then? You...you’re not going to...bring me back?”

            “Yeh did say yeh wanted ter be left alone, right? Professor Dumbledore wanted me ter find yeh, he didn’ say nuthin’ ‘bout bringin’yeh back.” Hagrid smiled. “Unless, yeh wan’ ter come back with me an’ Grawpy, ‘ere?”

            “Well, I er...” Harry didn’t know what to say. He liked being on his own, not having a shadow wherever he went, not having to worry about who was being scared for him. But he was tired... tired of thinking about Sirius, tired of thinking about the prophesy...tired of not knowing what was happening.

            “Just...just wait a second, Hagrid.” Harry ran to the barn, grabbed his wand, and made his way back to his large friends, jogging to keep pace.  

*

 

            Harry walked with Hagrid through the evergreens in silence, the only noise coming from Grawp’s occasional attempts at catching birds and squirrels. Hagrid never once questioned Harry’s decision to come back with him, and for that, Harry was grateful. They walked for hours until they finally stumbled onto a dusty dirt road.

            “Grawp, you stay in the forest. I’m gonna get ‘Arry ‘ere back to Professor Dumbledore.”

            “No, Hagrid.”

            “Wha’s that, now ‘Arry?”

            “I don’t want to go to Professor Dumbledore. Can you just get me to Privet Drive? I need to get my things.”

            “Can’t, ‘Arry. The Dursleys’ sent yer trunk ter Grimmauld place. Yer don’ need ter go back there. An’ Dumbledore really wants ter see yeh...”

            “Well, I don’t want to see him, yet. Can you just get me to Grimmauld Place, then?”

            Hagrid frowned. “Sure thing. Grimmauld Place, then.”

            Hagrid reassured Grawp that he’d be back to get him and started walking up the road.

            “Hagrid,” Harry said as Grawp headed back into the evergreens, tearing down saplings in his way, “Are you sure we can just leave him here? I mean, won’t he be seen?” Harry was reluctant to say, won’t he destroy everything and anyone in his path?

            “Nah, he’ll be fine. He listens real good ter me, now. Got him doin’ anythin’ I tell em.”

            They trudged on for another hour until an old, dilapidated pick-up truck coughing exhaust fumes rumbled up next to the odd looking pair walking down the dirt road. The driver pulled to the side and offered them a ride to the nearest town. Hagrid climbed in the bed of the truck as Harry gratefully took the front seat. He settled himself in to the seat, thanked the driver, and rested his head on the window, watching his first taste of freedom blur by.

*

            Grimmauld place was uncharacteristically empty. With most of the Order members out trying to find Harry, and all of the Aurors on the lookout for Death Eaters, the house had an eerie air to it. It was as if the house lost the little life it had when Sirius was in it. The insane portrait of Sirius’s mother was still on the wall in the hallway and Harry and Hagrid scooted past it silently. Thankfully, Hagrid didn’t tell anyone that he had found Harry...yet. All Harry wanted to do was eat a meal, take a shower, and go to bed. Hell, he’d even skip the shower. His bones felt as if they were rubbing against one another. His muscles were as sore as they were when he was at the Dursleys’. The nourishment of the deer meat Grawp had provided had long since worn off. Harry’s stomach rumbled with the anticipation of another hot meal. They headed towards the kitchen with Hagrid leading the way.

            “So, ‘Arry, do yer wan’ me ter..um...find anyone fer yeh?” Hagrid asked before he opened the swinging door.

            “No, that’s all right, Hagrid. I don’t want to see anyone yet. Just eat and sleep.”

            “Alrigh’, if tha’s how yeh feel, but I’ve gotta at least let Professor Dumbledore know yer here.”

            “OK.”

            Hagrid pushed open the kitchen door and stepped aside to let Harry through. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione at the end of the long table with their noses in books. Mrs. Weasley stood at the stove stirring something that smelled absolutely perfect.

            “So, Mrs. Weasley, when’s dinner? Smells real good,” Hagrid said as he grinned at Harry.

            Mrs. Weasley promptly answered, “Keep your tail on there, Hagrid. Won’t be long.” She turned around. Her wand was balancing a large black pot. At the sight of Harry, she lost her hold on it and it teetered back and forth and fell to the floor. Ron and Hermione looked up and followed Mrs. Weasley’s shocked stare.

            “Harry? Oh, HARRY!” Hermione rushed to engulf Harry in such a tight hug, it would have made Hagrid proud.

            Ron smiled from ear to ear. “You’ve found him, Hagrid! I can’t believe it! I knew he was all right! Oh, Mum, don’t go passing out again!” Ron went to catch his paling mother just before her head hit the floor.

            Harry rushed to her side. “Mrs. Weasley, please...it’s Ok, I...”

            “Oh, don’t worry, mate, she’ll be fine.” Ron’s smile faded slightly as he looked at Harry. “She’s had a rough week.”

            Harry felt the guilt rush over his body and pushed it back as hard as he could. He helped Ron heave Mrs. Weasley back to her feet just in time for her to embrace Harry as fiercely as Hermione had. Harry gingerly rested his arms on her shoulders as she sobbed into his chest. It was the nicest thing he had felt in a long time.

            “Well now,” Mrs. Weasley sniffed loudly, “Let’s get you something to eat.” She beamed at him with tears in her eyes and turned back to the stove.

            Harry sat at the table, embarrassment bubbling in his gut. He should have never left. He knew that now. There was too much at stake, too much to be thankful for, too many wrongs he needed to make right. Hermione sat across from him, tears streaming down her face.

            “OK, Hermione, you need to stop that. I’m fine.”

            “Yes, but, Harry...you’re here. I ... I can’t believe it...”

            Harry could tell by the looks on Ron and Hermione’s faces that they were waiting for him to tell what had happened. Harry knew their questions without having to be asked. Where were you? Why haven’t you contacted anyone? Why did you come back? He didn’t have the energy to discuss it all, not yet, anyway.

            “Can you guys...can you just give me a little... time? To think things through? Right now I...I just want to...eat something,” Harry looked at both Ron and Hermione, pleading his unspoken thoughts with his eyes. Please, not yet...

            “OK, Harry. Whatever you want,” Ron said, nudging Hermione with his elbow as she began to protest. She quickly settled into Hagrid’s story of he and Grawp stumbling onto Harry at the old barn, as Harry silently tucked into his Shepard’s pie.

*********

            Harry made his way up the dusty old stairs to his bedroom at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He had as much energy as a flobberworm. His trunk sat at the foot of his bed; his broom was placed on top of it. The room was the same as it ever was, but the house...empty. He missed Sirius. He felt that he had come to a realization with Sirius’s death, just as he had Cedric Diggory’s. But the pain, however, would be something Harry could never escape. The memories were too much. He heard footsteps in the hallway and fought the sudden welling of tears as Ron and Hermione entered the room.

            Harry busied himself in his trunk as his best friends sat on his bed. They stared at him, but said nothing. Harry took extra long deciding on pajamas; he just couldn’t think of what to say. After five minutes of long silence, Hermione was first to speak.

            “Um, Harry? Could we...um...that is...”

            “Could you what, Hermione? I’ve already told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “That’s not what I was going to ask!” Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Well,” she said, “not yet, anyway. I..., that is Ron and I, we were wondering if you might like to come along with us to St. Mungo’s tomorrow and visit Ginny,” Hermione said breathlessly, so Harry couldn’t interrupt again.

            “You...you want me to come?” Harry asked. “I don’t know...That is, are you sure she’d want me to come? I mean... after....” Harry turned away from them, feeling his heart squeeze with guilt. He noticed Ron shifting around on the bed. Harry chanced looking at him. Ron’s face was red and his jaw was squarely set as he determinedly stared out the window.

            “No, I don’t think I better, Hermione. I mean, I think I need to....um.... stay here...get some rest,” Harry said. Deep down, he wanted desperately to see how Ginny was doing, but seeing how angry Ron seemed, Harry decided he’d better wait. Hermione sensed this and tugged at Ron’s arm. He turned to her with his eyes drawn. She lifted his chin with her left hand and looked into his eyes. Ron’s demeanor transformed right before Harry’s eyes. The sides of Ron’s mouth curled into the goofiest smile Harry had ever seen.

            Without taking his eyes off of Hermione, Ron said, “Come on, Harry. I bet Ginny’d really like to see you.”

            Harry’s stifled laugh broke the trance between Ron and Hermione. The two of them jumped a bit and looked up at Harry guiltily. “So, what’s with you two?” Harry smiled as they squirmed around rounding up an answer. Harry couldn’t remember the last time Hermione couldn’t figure out what to say. This, and the fact that Ron’s ears were steadily growing redder, made Harry laugh...and laugh...and laugh until he was doubled over with pains in his sides. He couldn’t remember ever laughing so much, and when he looked back up at Ron and Hermione’s angry faces, he bent over and laughed some more.

            “Oh, come off it, Harry. It’s not that funny,” Ron said. He looked as if steam would start billowing from his ears and nose. Hermione was equally as red, however, she had a small smile on her face and gently reached for Ron’s hand. Ron took it and looked at Harry defiantly.

            “No, I’m sorry you guys. It’s...it’s just....” Harry gave them a genuine smile, “it’s nice. I mean, that you two are, well...you know.” Ron and Hermione beamed at Harry as he sat in the chair beside the desk.

            “Anyway, I...um....about Ginny,” Harry said as they looked at him expectantly. “I guess I’ll come. But only if she wants me to.”

            That was good enough of an answer for Hermione. She came over and hugged Harry fiercely. Ron stood, but held himself back from Harry and Hermione as they all said their goodnights. Hermione beamed at both Harry and Ron before she left, but Harry noticed her give Ron a very different look than she did Harry.

            Harry and Ron dressed into their pajamas in silence. Harry climbed into his bed and set his wand and glasses on the bedside table. The feel of a clean, warm bed made his eyes droop instantly. He put out the lamp as Ron settled in to his own bed.

            “You look like hell.”

            “Thanks.”

            “No, really, Harry. I’m surprised Mum didn’t make you go to St. Mungo’s. You remind me of the dead mice Crookshanks has been dragging around.”

            “Well, I’ve had a bit of a rough time.”

            “Right.... I guess if you come with us tomorrow, maybe a healer could look at you.”

            “I don’t know, Ron. I mean, I don’t think I should go.”

            “What? After all that with Hermione and now you’re not going to come?”

            “Ron?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Do you want me to go? I mean, since I....um...since what I did to Ginny, that is?”

            “Well, I don’t really know what you did to her, do I?” Ron said quietly.

            “So... they didn’t tell you?”

            “It’s the Order, Harry. They’re as secretive now as they had been when you went back to the Dursleys. All Hermione and I know is that Ginny got hurt, and you caused it. Dad said Dumbledore reckons you must’ve been under a spell or something....”

            “Yeah,” was all Harry could think to say. If he only knew...

            They stayed quiet for a very long time, and only when Harry heard Ron’s slow, steady breathing did he allow himself to surrender to slumber.

********