To Love or Not to Love

The Burrow was busier and more chaotic than Harry had ever seen it. Mrs Weasley hadn't stopped since he'd arrived several days ago, the day of his seventeenth birthday. She was determined to make sure that her eldest child got the wedding he deserved, especially after his recent encounter with Fenrir Greyback, the vengeful werewolf. She was so determined, in fact, that she had even hired a Wedding Witch to help with the plans.

It was now a matter of days until the big day and the tension was excruciatingly high. Harry had awoken that morning to a large scream, which he recognised to be Ginny's. Alert as ever for prospective Death Eater attacks on his former girlfriend, Harry had run to her aid, only to find that there was no Death Eater at all, simply a rather disgusting looking bridesmaid dress.

"I'll look like a meringue!" Ginny screeched enraged as she showed her eldest brother the fluffy, peach-coloured dress Fleur had given her. "She cannot seriously expect me to wear this!"

A pyjama-clad Ron, who had also been awoken by Ginny's scream, sniggered at her, earning him a reproachful glare from not only Ginny, but also Mrs Weasley and Hermione.

"It'll be okay, dear," Mrs Weasley attempted calmly, ignoring Ron. "I'm sure Rose will be able to sort it out for you - won't you?" she added, catching the eye of the Wedding Witch, an outgoing witch with dyed-red hair, a nose-ring and multi-coloured robes (she was all that the Weasleys could afford).

Rose, however, did not seem so cooperative, for she held up her hands. "I'm afraid not," she said, trying not to laugh as she looked at Ginny's dress. "I'm here to meet the every need of Miss Delacour and Mr Weasley, and if Miss Delacour likes this dress, there's not much I can do about it. Besides, Madam Malkin was so delighted when I asked her to make the dresses for the wedding - you wouldn't want to upset her, would you? Poor witch has been short of work recently ..."

Ginny glared at the unnatural redhead and ran off, leaving Rose to escape quickly and the others to stand around awkwardly, unsure of how they could tackle the problem.

"Right, well I'll be off back to bed then," Ron yawned.

Mrs Weasley, however, glared at him. "You'll do no such thing! Your brother's getting married in two days so you will jolly well help with the preparation - there's plenty to do!"

Ron stormed off moodily up to his attic room and, guiltily wondering if anyone would notice if he slept for a few more hours, Harry followed shortly after.

However, Harry had not yet reached the attic when he stopped abruptly. He had just been passing Ginny's room, when he had heard sobs emanating from it. He paused outside, wondering if he should go in. Whether they were still together or not, his feelings for her had not changed and if he thought he might be able to stop the tears, then he would.

Making his decision, Harry knocked tentatively before pushing the door open. He was immediately swamped by a sickening pink; the walls were plastered in baby pink, the curtains were a pale cherry colour with delicate frills dressing their ends and a horrifically bright pink rug graced the magenta-coloured carpet. Harry knew of course that this was Mrs Weasley's doing; she had only one daughter out of seven children and would naturally want to take advantage of this to make her as feminine as possible. Bypassing the colours, however, Harry turned to Ginny, who was sprawled on her bed, her head on her pillow and the bridesmaid dress lying discarded on the floor beside her.

As he watched her crying, Harry realised that Ginny did not get this upset over something as silly as a dress. Then he understood: part of the problem was him.

"Gin," he said quietly, kneeling down next to her.

With a sniff, Ginny turned her head enough to tell him to go away before sobbing into her pillow once more.

Harry, however, refused to take no for an answer.

"Ginny, please tell me what the matter is," he persisted desperately.

Obediently, Ginny sat up, glaring at him. "You want to know what's wrong?" she snapped. "That -" (she pointed to the ghastly bridesmaid dress next to Harry) "- is what's wrong! It's not enough that I've had to put up with Phlegm and will have to put up with her even more when she becomes my sister-in-law, or that I'm still having nightmares about You-Know-Who, or that Percy is still upsetting mum, or that Bill's part-werewolf, or that Dumbledore's dead or even that my boyfriend broke up with me because - just like every other bloody person in my life - he thinks he knows what's best for me! No, on top of that, I have to look hideous on my brother's wedding day!"

As Harry watched the tears fall from Ginny's face, he realised just what an affect his breaking up with her had had on her. He hadn't meant this to happen at all, he had simply wanted to protect her from him, from the danger that stalked him - from death. He hadn't intended to upset her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, hating himself for causing the sadness in her eyes. "I never ever meant to hurt you."

Through her tears, Ginny gave him a weak smile. "I know," she reassured him, seemingly calming down a bit. "I just ... I wish you didn't feel like you have to protect me! I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. And besides, we don't know for certain that either of us will survive this year - wouldn't you rather die happy than in regret?"

Harry sighed but nodded all the same. It was all too complicated. He wished it were a simple case of what would make him happy and what wouldn't - he knew only too well what would make him happiest. But unfortunately he had a serial killer after him, which complicated matters a bit.

He expressed these feelings to Ginny. "I just - if - if something did happen to you, I'd rather know that I wasn't the cause of it."

This answer did not seem to satisfy Ginny, however, for the fire returned in her brown eyes as she glared at him indignantly. "You mean to tell me that you are going to sacrifice my happiness - and even your happiness, which you've had so little of - just so you can have a clear conscience if I die?"

"No - Gin, look, it's - it's not like that!" Harry groaned in frustration. "Look, Sirius already died because of me and I don't want you to die too! I'm sick of losing the people I love!"

Ginny's eyes softened somewhat at this and she allowed Harry to sit down next to her before she spoke. "Harry, it's my safety we're talking about. Can't you at least trust me to make the decision?"

"But-"

"No, Harry, listen to me," Ginny said, attempting to control the anger she inevitably felt. "All my life, I've had people telling me what's best for me - Mum, Dad, my brothers, even bloody Fleur - they always think they know best, and no one ever thinks to ask me what I want! But for once, Harry, I'm going to have my say. It's my life and I will do what I like, whatever you or my brothers or my parents say, okay? So either you stop trying to decide what's best for me or we're never going to be together!"

Stunned silence followed this speech as Harry attempted to come to terms with what she had just said. He supposed she was right; being the only girl in seven children must have taken its toll on her, and he had seen from the way Percy and Ron had acted around her that she was overprotected. The last thing she needed was an overprotective boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I - I didn't mean to try and make decisions for you. I just - I just want to know that you're safe."

Ginny smiled. "I know, Harry. But remember - I'm sixteen now, I can take care of myself."

Harry, however, was not so easily satisfied. What Ginny was saying was fair enough, and it made sense, but it didn't make the decision any easier. He was still terrified that if he gave in to his feelings, it would be the death of her.

"Look, just give me time to think," he said finally, standing up. "I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want you to die either - can't you understand that?"

Ginny nodded. "Take your time," she said calmly, wiping her red eyes with a tissue.

Giving her a final dutiful smile, Harry left her in favour of Ron's bedroom. Ron had obviously gone down to help out, for it was empty, so Harry took the opportunity to think. Lying on his bed, he closed his eyes, mulling over the conversation he had just had with Ginny. It was all too complicated at the moment; maybe it would be easier if he had some sleep.

And then he saw Dumbledore.