As the World Falls Down

As the World Falls Down

He lay in bed, still drowsy and unwilling to let go of the dream he had just awaken from. He could still smell the scent of fresh wildflowers and broomhandles,

but he shook it out of his head. "No more. She's not mine anymore," he said to himself, mumbling in a half slumber. Ginny Weasley, the most perfect girl, the only one

who ever really understood him, and he, Harry Potter, had given it up all in one night. He sank lower into the mattress. It was old and lumpy, with many holes and water

spots, but he didn't mind. He was now living in his parent’s old house. Sleeping on their old mattress. And even though he could still feel the powerful, dreadful magic

that had taken place there now seventeen years prior, it still felt more like home than even Hogwarts ever did. He rolled over to the muggle alarm clock that was set up

on a dusty nightstand. '12:32' it read. He pushed himself out of bed, still dreaming about the girl, the one he couldn't have.

"Harry! Are you ever going to get up?!" Hermione yelled from the kitchen down stairs. Harry thought she might sound a little worried.

"Don't worry, I'm coming," he answered, pulling on clothing from the floor. He still wore his old hand-me-downs, although he needed new clothes desperately, but did

wear one of his father's old cloaks he had found in the closet. He pulled it on gently, as though it was almost too delicate to touch, and fastened the clasp. Looking in

the mirror, he saw his father in himself now, and it made him shudder. He turned quickly and left the room, deciding not to look into the mirror again.

"Harry, what've you been doing? You haven't been sleeping this entire time, have you?" Hermione questioned, looking anxiously at Harry.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Where's Ron?"

"He went back to the Burrow. It seems they've been having some...erm, trouble," Hermione said, rather reluctantly. Harry noticed she was pacing the kitchen,

twisting an old rag around in her hands and every so often she stopped to sniffle.

"Wha-what kind of trouble? Is everyone alright?" Harry asked, pulling his wand out of his cloak.

"Well, no, not that kind of trouble," she said at the sight of Harry. "Actually, it's, well, it's Ginny. She hasn't been herself since the wedding, Harry. Mrs. Weasley thinks

it's because of what happened between you two. It’s rather serious. Very bad.”

He gripped the counter, his knees buckling underneath him. He had worried that Ginny might be affected by what had happened, what she might say or do. He should

have never....

"I-I-I'm going, there, to the Burrow," he said, after a few minutes of thought. He was scared, but determined to get things right with Ginny.

"Harry, I don't think it's best. Not right now. Mrs. Weasley says that she's heard Ginny talk about.... suicide...." Hermione trailed off, and Harry now noticed that she was

crying, soft gentle sobs that made his heart ache. He couldn't think of what to say, certainly not the truth. He felt like a bastard for what he was doing to his friend,

but he decided to feign shock, even though he had had little doubt that Ginny might do something like this.

"Suicide? You can't really be... I mean, she's too smart to..." He stopped. How could he have done something like this? How could he do this now, to Hermione? He was

supposed to be saving the world for everyone he loved, and instead, he was causing it to fall down for the only ones who ever loved him back. He swayed, feeling sick at

what he had done. Lust, he thought, had not been worth giving up love. It would not be.

"I'll be back soon. Just stay here, alright?" he asked her. Hermione nodded her head, now shaking from the emotion she was overcome with. He approached her, but she

turned away, not wanting him to see her face. He ran his hands through his thick black hair and sighed. How would he ever fix this? He took one last look at her before

apparating to the Burrow.