Summer at the Burrow

Harry slowly folded the letter and stuffed it in his pajamas' pocket. He sank back in the chair, staring at the flickering candles on the small end table before him as though they might answer all his desperate questions. But of course, they could barely light on the table they were perched on; illuminating his soul was quite beyond them.

He'd been dreading the reading of Remus' letter for days. Putting it off only delayed the inevitable, however, and so Harry had finally dragged himself from bed and made his way downstairs to the Burrow's cluttered family room for some privacy. Even though Ron and the twins were quietly dozing upstairs, Harry did not feel up to reading the letter in their presence, asleep or no. He wanted to be alone.

He sighed as he pondered how to respond to Remus' letter. The last thing he needed was one more person trying to draw his feelings out into the open. Why couldn't anyone understand that? He didn't want to talk about Sirius, least of all with those who knew him best. He could see the loss in their faces, too. A loss that had been Harry's doing...

He looked around him, the flickering candles casting soft shadows around the family room. He saw peering out of the shadows, pictures of every Weasley - even Percy - up on the walls and on the mantlepiece. A dull ache ran through him - would he ever have such a family to call his own? Would he even want one, assuming he survived the now inevitable conflict with Voldemort? He felt akin to an empty shell now; how would he feel then, knowing he'd just become a murderer?

He found himself wondering if losing that final battle might not be the preferable alternative...but then...the consequences to his friends if he failed...

A shadow moved on the wall. He froze in his seat. His wand was upstairs -

"Harry?"

He half jumped from his chair and snapped his head around. Ginny was standing in the family room's entrance behind him, clad in her bedtime robe, carrying a cup of milk and a small plate of cookies in hand; she'd obviously just raided the kitchen.

"Oh...hi," said Harry, a bit embarrassed at having reacted so sharply. He slowly settled himself back into the chair.

"I saw the candles," said Ginny, coming around to the front of the chair and adopting the look of concern that Harry was all too familiar with. "You okay? I thought you were in bed by now."

"Yeah," said Harry wearily, "just couldn't sleep, that's all."

Ginny bit her lip and watched him for several moments, her body language indicating an uncertainty about whether to leave him be or try and talk to him. Harry hoped for the former. He stared into the dark fireplace in the hopes she would recognize his reticence.

He saw his wishes evaporate as Ginny sat down in the chair next to his.

"You've been really quiet, Harry," she said carefully, as though her words were performing an emotional high_wire act. "You hardly said a word at dinner..."

Harry took a deep breath. What was there to say?

"You know, if you'd like to talk - "

This was going into unpleasant territory. Harry decided to quickly shift the subject. "So, um, how's Luna doing?"

Ginny's shoulders sagged slightly, though she gave no other outward sign of disappointment at having been rebuffed.

"Oh...well, she's sleeping now, finally," said Ginny, looking to the staircase leading up to the bedrooms behind Harry. "Hard to believe she only had half a glass of wine for all that. You'd think she'd gorged herself on Mum's whole stock."

Harry smiled inwardly. Much as he wished Luna hadn't been the subject of a prank, he had to admit her reactions had been...unusual, to say the least.

There followed an awkward silence. Ginny was gazing at her plate and Harry was trying his best to dissuade further conversation by continuing to stare into the dark hearth.

It was Ginny who finally ventured to break the silence. "So...like a cookie?"

She held out her plate to him.

"No, thanks," said Harry. The sight of Ginny's pained expression made him wish he'd taken one, if only to oblige her.

He tried to make up for it. "Um...it's nice that you invited her. Luna I mean," he said. "I didn't realize she was coming till yesterday."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny looked intensely relieved. "I'm so glad to hear that," she said, putting her plate on the table and leaning forward. "Ron practically threw a fit when I told him I'd asked her, but it's not like I expected any different anyway. But blast it, Harry, Luna and Hermione are going to get along even if I have to lock them upstairs for the rest of the summer!"

"How would they eat?" asked Harry instinctively.

Ginny blinked. "I...well, I'd send some food up with Pig, I guess, but I'm hoping it won't come to that. I'm just tired of every conversation between them turning into an argument, you know? 'Snorkack' this, 'It doesn't exist' that, and on and on. And they have more in common than they think too - they're both stubborn as mules!"

Harry smiled. For all of Luna's serenity and carefree disposition, she'd been quite adamant and unyielding whenever Hermione had dared challenge her beliefs.

"I didn't realize this was a project of yours," said Harry. "Are you going to try that with Ron too?"

Ginny gave a dismissive wave of her hand and rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's hopeless," she said in resignation. "At least Hermione's trying, a little. But I don't think he'll ever even give Luna a chance. It really bugs me too, you wouldn't believe. Anyway..."

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "Harry," she said slowly, "I was going to talk to you about this tomorrow, but since you're here - "

Harry held his breath as he stiffened in reflex.

" - you are planning to get back on the Quidditch team aren't you?" asked Ginny carefully. "You didn't say much about it at dinner."

Harry opened his mouth. He hadn't expected that topic to come up.

"I...I don't know, Ginny," he said finally. "It's not really a priority with me right now."

"Well...I think it would do you good," said Ginny hopefully. "It'll help take your mind off things - "

"I don't want to take my mind off things," countered Harry.

"Why?" asked Ginny, "You can't let that hold you down forever, Harry. You still have your own life - "

"Don't remind me."

Ginny frowned. "Don't talk that way. It'll do you good to get out on the pitch again. Anyway, the Seeker's position's yours, like I said. Gryffindor needs you - "

"Stop pushing me!" exclaimed Harry, his temper rising. He wasn't in a mood to be discussing such trivialities, or anything else, for that matter. Couldn't she see that?

"I'm not!" protested Ginny, "You're the one who's pushing, Harry, not me."

"Wha - " Harry stared at her, mouth agape.

"You've been pushing everyone away ever since Sirius died," explained Ginny. "Ron, Hermione, me, mum - "

"No I haven't," Harry lied, very uncomfortably. But he had no intention of going into this now.

"Oh, come on," countered Ginny, "we're not idiots, Harry. You're practically turning into a hermit! Why won't you talk - "

"Because I don't want to!" snapped Harry, his voice rising with his irritation. "I don't have to explain anything, to you or anybody! I didn't even want to come here! I only came because your folks wouldn't stop pestering me, so leave me alone!!"

Ginny immediately dropped her gaze to her knees, her face reddening furiously as she pursed her lips.

She shot up from the chair a moment later and grabbed her plate of cookies. "We'll talk more in the morning, Harry, when you've cooled - "

"No we won't!" stated Harry fiercely. "Not about that!"

Ginny clenched her mouth shut tightly as her face adopted a hue very near to her hair's. She bolted for the stairs and made a last second grab for her glass, knocking it over in her haste, the milk spilling over onto the floor.

"Oh for - "

She bent down and retrieved the glass without casting another glance at Harry. She stared at the milky puddle and seemed to fight with herself for a moment before finally drawing off upstairs, leaving the spill on the floor.

* * *

A fresh breeze came up, tousling Harry's hair. The evening's setting sun was casting long shadows across the dry, windswept grasses. Harry watched with apprehension one such shadow creep closer, the darkening blades of grass approaching his feet as he lay with his back against the Weasley's old wooden shed behind the house.

He raised his head up from his crossed arms to see who was approaching.

Ron stood before him, his Cleansweep Eleven slung over his shoulder, his other hand holding Harry's Firebolt parallel to the ground. Ginny stood behind him and slightly to one side, her own broom in hand and looking at Harry rather cautiously.

"We're going off for some practice, mate," said Ron. "Here's your broom. We're short a Chaser, though, but since there's no Snitch anyway - "

"Better count me out," said Harry, "I don't feel much up to it." He feared that getting involved in a Quidditch game now, even a practice, would only encourage Ginny to try even harder to convince him to return to the Seeker's position, a frustration he hardly needed.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron, thrusting the Firebolt closer. "It's not a serious match or anything. Just for fun, is all. And we can't play without another Chaser, I mean who's going to pass - "

"Why don't you ask Charlie?" suggested Harry. "He can use the Firebolt if he doesn't have a broom."

"Nah, he's talkin' business with Dad," said Ron, nodding towards the house.

"Well, try Hermione, then, I don't know - "

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding? She can barely keep from falling off a broom when it's hovering, never mind playing Quidditch, you know that. Now c'mon, you've been sitting there all afternoon. Don't you want to stretch your legs at least?"

"Good idea," said Harry, pushing off the ground and getting to his feet. "See you guys later."

With that, he turned around and left a stunned Ron behind him as he walked off in the opposite direction, circling around the burrow and heading for the hill overlooking the homestead.

He'd just rounded the far corner when he came face to face with Hermione, who very nearly bumped into him in her haste.

"Oh! Harry, good, I was just going to find you," she said, flipping through a small bunch of envelopes in her hand and drawing out one with his name on it. "Here, they're the test results for our O.W.L.s; they just arrived a few minutes ago."

"Thanks," said Harry, stuffing the envelope in his back pocket. He started to move off again when Hermione spoke.

"Hey, wait - aren't you going to open it?" she asked, clearly curious. "You know, it could affect which subjects you opt for next year, depending on which O.W.L.s you get, Harry. Not to mention the books we have to - "

Harry drew the envelope from his pocket and handed it back to her. "Well, you have a look, then," he said. "O.W.L.s are the last thing on my mind right now."

Hermione opened her mouth just as Harry turned away and headed off towards the hill in the distance.

He'd managed perhaps a dozen strides when Hermione caught up with him and tugged on his sleeve.

"Harry, wait," she pleaded as he reluctantly came to a stop. She circled round to face him, looking rather worried.

"What is on your mind, exactly?" she asked. "You've been so quiet lately, Harry, I'm worried - "

"Not about the right thing," replied Harry darkly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," said Harry quickly. He hadn't intended to embark on this conversation. "Look, I'm just going for a walk, all right?"

"But...Harry," said Hermione gently as she took a step closer, "you can't keep everything bottled up inside like this...if Professor Dumbledore were - "

"Don't talk to me about Dumbledore!" snapped Harry angrily.

Hermione looked pleadingly to Harry, her brown eyes watering. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to ask...what happened between you two?" she asked. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but how can I understand what you're going through if you won't say...please tell me..."

For a moment, Harry almost succumbed to her request. If there was anyone he'd always been able to confide in, it was certainly Hermione. But, no, he couldn't afford to be reckless again, not after what happened to Sirius.

"I can't," he finally said hoarsely. "Not now - not until - "

"But why??" asked Hermione desperately, close to tears. "Harry, I'm right here, we can talk - "

"You might be talking to Voldemort for all you know," said Harry, leaving a shocked Hermione standing flatfooted as he marched off up the hill. His insides ached; Hermione trying so hard to reach out to him was almost more than he could bear. But he had no choice, really. Not if he wished to protect her from harm. And that he was determined to do, no matter how difficult it might be.

He reached the top of the hill and spied the old apple tree he'd once climbed a couple of years before. He dropped down heavily and leaned his back against the trunk, closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world where there was no Voldemort, no Death Eaters, no Lestranges...

And Sirius was still around...or for that matter, his parents.

Yet, the doubts that had surfaced the previous year still lingered in his thoughts. He still recalled quite vividly a young Severus Snape hanging there, upside down -

Both Sirius and Remus had tried to dissuade Harry's doubts about those events. But, he'd witnessed them with his own eyes. Sirius had stated that they were at 'that age', and yet, Harry was at 'that age' too, and he'd never had the urge to go and play cruel pranks on others.

He felt something brush up against him. He snapped his eyes open in alarm -

Luna sat down next to him with her back against the tree. He hadn't even heard her approach...

Harry held his breath. Wasn't there anyplace he could go without someone trying to talk to him??

To his surprise, Luna merely gazed at him for a moment before drawing out the latest copy of The Quibbler. She carefully unfolded the paper across her lap, flipped a few pages ahead and began to read contentedly without even a simple 'hello'.

Well, thought Harry, at least she's trying to get me to talk.

Still, though, he was in no mood for company. And, she was sitting unusually close, to boot; shoulder to shoulder, in fact. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, really. But, he really wanted to be alone right now.

"Um...look," he said as gently as he felt able, "this tree is kinda small for two people, so..."

"Yes, it is," she said vaguely, her gaze not deviating from a lengthy article titled 'Ministry Denies Escaped Dragons Cover_Up: Fact or Fiction?'. "You can stay, though. I don't mind."

Harry gaped at her. Surely she was joking?

Several uneventful minutes told him otherwise. Harry sighed. He briefly considered going elsewhere, but something made him hesitate. Would she think he was shunning her like so many others did? No, he wouldn't do that to her...

Besides, she wasn't pestering him, really. She was just sitting there, reading quietly.

Well, maybe not so quietly, with her softly humming 'Weasley is Our King' as she serenely perused her father's publication, but it wasn't bothering him particularly. In fact, her dreamy voice did have a decidedly pleasing melodic quality, now that he thought about it...

He decided at last to just wait it out. It would be dark soon, after all, and Luna would have to go inside for lack of light. Or, maybe she was afraid of the dark.

No, he thought, scratch that. She'd shown no fear of Death Eaters after all, so Harry very much doubted she'd be frightened of something so mundane as simple darkness.

He waited. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that whenever Luna finished a section of the paper she'd gaze over at him while flipping the page over. Nevertheless she always returned to her reading without uttering so much as a word.

Harry slowly allowed himself to relax and closed his eyes. Actually, Luna's soft humming combined with the gentle rustling of the paper to be rather soothing, he discovered. Every once in a while the dry evening breeze would pick up and he would feel a few long strands of Luna's hair brush up against his cheek and tickle his nose. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation.

Soft, gentle humming -

A page lightly turning -

A light, dry breeze, and the delicate brushing of long strands of hair -

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep, but he knew it had to have been a good amount of time, his eyes popping open to the surrounding darkness - no, wait, there was a soft glow coming from somewhere above. Where was -

He was crumpled low to the ground, his cheek resting up against a cotton fabric overlayed with long, willowy strands of hair -

He abruptly recalled where he was. He sat bolt upright and looked at Luna, who was still reading her paper, though with her illuminated wand tucked behind her ear to make up for the prevailing darkness. He's somehow fallen asleep and had been resting his head against her shoulder.

"Er...um...s-sorry about that," he stammered.

Luna looked over at him serenely. "For what?"

"Well...for...um, never mind," he said hastily. He scrambled to his feet. "It's, er, getting late...I think I'll head back..."

She looked up at him. "All right," she said. "Better light your wand on the way back, though. The Bollywoggles have really dug a lot of holes along the slope. You wouldn't want to break a leg."

"Um, no, I wouldn't," agreed Harry. He fumbled for his wand and nearly dropped it in his haste.

"Nox," he voiced.

"Actually, I think Lumos would do better," suggested Luna helpfully.

"Oh...yeah...thanks...Lumos."

He looked down to Luna, who had returned to her paper. "Um...aren't you coming back?"

She looked back up at him. "Oh, no," she said dreamily. "It's a quite pretty night to be outside, you know. I'll go back in later."

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, all right, if you're sure..."

She smiled up at him. "Watch your step on your way down, Harry."

"Yeah...thanks..."

He headed down the hill, watching for the holes Luna had mentioned, though he couldn't imagine how she could tell the difference between a gopher hole and one dug by these 'Bollywoggles' she'd mentioned, whatever they were.

He shook his head as he approached the Burrow. Luna hadn't seemed the slightest bit embarrassed at having Harry sleeping up against her like that. He wished he could be so resilient.

He stopped in his tracks. For the first time in weeks, he suddenly realized, he'd slept without having any nightmares. But then...he hadn't slept outside during all that time, either. Or leaning on someone's shoulder, for that matter.

Strange...

He resumed his march at a slow pace, hearing a rather boisterous Burrow beckoning before him. It only took him a moment to understand why when he walked through the swinging doors.

Ron was laying splayed out on one of the kitchen chairs, his worried mother dabbing a moistened cloth to his reddened forehead, as Ginny, the twins, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were huddled around. Everyone, save Ron, was arguing loudly.

"If you hadn't let go of the bloody club - "

"Me?? It was Charlie who - "

"Don't drag me into this! I only went to cheer you on - "

Harry looked at Ron in concern, who was trying his best to push away his mother's determined ministrations. "Cripes, Mum, that stuff burns!"

"Hold still! You don't want it swelling up now - "

"I'd rather have that than third degree burns!"

Satisfied that Ron wasn't gravely injured, Harry headed up to the bedroom and extinguished his wand. He sat on the edge of the bed, yet he didn't feel all that tired. He supposed he could read, but -

He glanced out the open window back towards the hill he'd just descended. He blinked.

He got up and leaned his head out. No, he wasn't imaging it.

Luna was gone.