Author'snote: Originally intended for this to be a one- shot, then it got way too long to be a one-shot. At most there ought to be three chapters. This story is also dedicated to my cousin, Diya, and her husband(feels weird to say that) Subhadeep(Did I spell it right? I hope I did:P). As your wedding present- remember way back in March when you demanded I write a romantic story? This is the product, hopefully you love it. And I know this "wedding present" is way, way overdue, but the only excuse I can give is exams and way too much homework, and just plain stress.
Here's hoping you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights go to JK Rowling.
Harry didn't particularly want a lot of things in his life- normal things, obviously. Potion essays, for one. Blast- Ended Skrewts. Voldemort. His parents', godfather's and now his mentor's deaths. The stupid prophecy.
Another thing he desperately wished didn't have to occur was having to break up with Ginny.
He never did want to break up with her. He had realized he loved her from the moment he had kissed her in the Gryffindor common room. He had never confessed what he really felt, however. And now he would never get the chance to do so due to the fact that he had very possibly screwed it up like the idiot he was.
He knew why he had to break up with her. To keep her safe, at all costs. If there was the slightest, merest chance of Ginny being in much less danger than she was at the moment, he would grab at it like a drowning man grabbing at a hand come to save him. Even if it meant hurting both of them in the process.
He told himself he was being an overprotective caveman, but not even Merlin could hide the truth that if Ginny was to be captured, the war would be lost.
Therefore, when he broke up with her, despite the inner turmoil and that stupid inner voice yelling, "You're just gonna let her go?", he told himself he was doing the right thing.
And now, standing on the porch of the burrow with hands buried deep in his jean pockets, Mad- Eye standing next to him and his trunk with Hedwig perched on top on his other side, he wondered not about Horcruxes or his twinging scar or what Voldemort was doing at the moment but rather about Ginny. There were two possibilities, he decided. One of them was Ginny accepting that he needed to do this. The other was Ginny being so impossibly mad at him that she would hate him for life.
He gave a loud sigh. Maybe if women like Ginny didn't exist, his life would have a lot less hassle.
Mrs Weasley opened the door then, with a bright smile, ushering them in. Dragging his trunk in, Harry felt his spirits lift slightly, the way they always did whenever he entered the Burrow. His spirits fell again, though, when his sharp eyes- despite the glasses- noticed the presence of gray strands in Mrs Weasley's hair, the dark circles under his eyes, and all the arrows on the clock pointing towards mortal peril. Not even the homely ambience of the Burrow could disguise the fact that they were at war.
He looked past Mrs Weasley, and went weak in the knees. Ginny Weasley was staring at him with her beautiful brown eyes. Had she always been this stunning? She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
He opened his mouth as well, with a little more success. "Hey-"
Ginny shoved brutally past him, her shoulder banging painfully into his chest. He winced, as she ran in the direction of the stairs and disappeared up them.
He could hear Mad- Eye sniggering.
He sighed. Definitely hating him for life, then.
HG
Ginny didn't want to see Harry Potter.
When his name cropped up- and it did, very often- all she could feel was the irrational anger rising up inside of her like a volcano. She couldn't stand to talk about him- she would excuse herself whenever she would hear the name pop up. Ron very patronizingly told her to stop acting like a child and focus on why he had dumped her- on Dumbledore's funeral, no less. She had responded with a rude hand gesture.
She couldn't forget the way he had held her heart in his fist and then crushed it. They had dated, kissed in broom cupboards, classrooms, abandoned corridors- but apparently the time they spent together meant absolutely nothing, because after it all, he had humiliatingly dumped her. On a funeral.
She supposed he didn't care. She supposed he thought she was only his best friend's kid sister, and just a passing fling. She told herself she didn't give a damn. She wouldn't bat an eyelid even if he took it up with Fleur's stupid little sister.
She also told herself she would try her best to pretend that he didn't exist, to dull the pain. Nothing hurt more than the realization that he harboured no feelings whatsoever for her. Even when she loved him with all her heart. He had taken her feelings and just shoved it into her face.
That day, she had finished setting the table, when Harry entered the room. Looking into his green eyes, she almost forgot her resolve. But when he gave her a small smile and started to speak- perhaps pretend nothing ever happened between them- she made sure to bang into him and escaped into the safety of her room.
She told herself she hated Harry Potter, and she would show him exactly how much. He deserved that much.
HG
Two days into his stay, and Harry had to run out to the backyard to gather his thoughts.
Mrs Weasley did not approve of the mission to destroy horcruxes. She had already held several meetings with Harry, Ron and Hermione to try and persuade them to hand over the mission to the Order. None of the meetings had succeeded, and now she did her best to prolong the inevitable escape by setting them different tasks for the wedding.
The wedding. It was for Bill and Fleur and they were to get married exactly a month later. Harry had decided that he could try and find horcruxes during this long, one- month stay, because there was no way he could lie on his back for one month. The problem was leaving to find them, as he had no idea exactly how and where to do so.
Sitting underneath a tree, he rubbed his scar. It was again prickling painfully. Voldemort was on the move. He had finally, however, mastered Occlumency, and had decided to shut him out. His problem now was not where Voldemort was, but where the horcruxes were.
And then there was Ginny. Who was ignoring him, and was acting as though any room that held him had an incurable pest infestation. She would never look at him, and the few times he did catch her eyes, she would glare at him so fiercely that he would flush and look down at his feet. And every now and then she would drop a disparaging comment that would make his stomach squirm uncomfortably and his cheeks flush.
He didn't know why she was acting like this- like a child who didn't get her way. He had explained to her why he had felt the need to dump her. It was clear that they needed to talk, but they couldn't do so with Ginny ignoring him like that.
He ran his hand through his hair, feeling as though he would explode. Why did all this have to be difficult?
Using the support of the tree, he stood up. The first thing he would do when he finally re- entered the burrow, was to make a list of all the places that potentially held a horcrux. Then he would visit those places, one by one, with someone at his side- Ron or Hermione. As for Ginny, well- he let out a breath. He would deal with it when it became too pressing to ignore.
HG
When Ginny made her way down for breakfast, she noticed Harry, of all people, arguing with her mother.
"Its dangerous!" Her mother exclaimed. "Harry, I absolutely forbid-"
"I have to do it, no matter the amount of danger," Harry cut her off, sounding weary and self- sacrificial. "Look, I would go alone-"
"Definitely not," she could hear her brother snarl. "I am coming with you-"
"Its too dangerous, for the both of you! Why on earth do you have to-"
Ginny made her entrance then.
"They have to, mum," she sneered, "because he does not care what anyone thinks as long as he gets it done. In the meantime, he does not give a damn whether anyone gets hurt."
There was a terrible silence after she said that, and she saw Harry go white. She must have struck a nerve. She felt a sadistic sort of glee.
Ron looked so furious his ears were turning scarlet. Harry turned away but not before she saw thousand of emotions running through his eyes. Her mother looked very angry.
"Ginny," she said quietly, "come and eat your breakfast, but not before you apologise to Harry for that astonishing lack of tact that is usually seen in your brothers."
She set her jaw in a defiant line. "No," she spat out, "he deserved it." And then she ran out to the garden and leaned against the shed, breathing rapidly.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Harry and Ron walk out and quietly disapparate out of the boundaries of the Burrow.
HG
"Mum is gonna be so mad," Ron moaned. Harry now clutched a nondescript backpack which carefully held one of the horcruxes- Hufflepuff's cup.
They had finally gotten the horcrux but at a price. Ron was bleeding from a gash in his shoulder and Harry felt a burning, throbbing pain in his left knee whenever he put too much weight in it. When they had reached the cup, they had to fight their way through numerous defenses and the end result was not pretty.
Harry stayed silent, trying to avoid and ignore the distinctly cold vibes he was getting from the backpack.
"So would my sister."
Harry couldn't help himself.
"She is already mad. At me, that is." He shifted the backpack, feeling as though the backpack weighed a ton.
"No, she isn't. She is just being a prat," Ron shrugged. "Weasleys are entitled to being a prat once in a while, and she was long overdue."
Harry felt more uneasy despite Ron siding with him. "Its my fault though- "
"No, it isn't." Ron glared at Harry. "Look, I totally understand why you- dumped her. And broke her heart. And I get it, I really do. If I had the chance, I would try to keep Hermione out of the war-"
He stopped and turned pink. Then he added in a sulking voice, "Then again, if I even suggested the mere possibility of keeping her out, she would probably hex me till I can't breathe. That woman is scary."
Harry sniggered, and Ron shoved him on the shoulder half- heartedly. "Ginny is going to come around and understand why you really did it. Just you wait."
Harry very seriously doubted this, as Ron pushed the door of the Burrow open and yelled that they were back.
HG
Ginny's dinner was rudely interrupted when Hermione, and her mother rushed to attend to Ron and Harry.
Ron had his shoulder wrapped up securely and was talking to Hermione in low tones. Mrs Weasley was attending to Harry's knee.
"You twisted your knee, Harry. It's a wonder you were even able to walk back."
"You can fix it, though?"
"I am a mother of seven children, Harry- I most certainly know how to."
As Mrs Weasley tapped his knee with her wand she asked softly, "How did you twist your knee, Harry?"
Harry squirmed in his seat. "Er, I can't tell you- I am so sorry-"
"And exactly why can't you tell me why my brother came home with a bleeding shoulder?" Ginny found herself asking, giving him a blazing glare. "Does ickle Harry Potter not think that his own family cannot handle the truth, must he keep every bloody thing about what he does a secret, can he not stop thinking that the world revolves purely around him for at least one second-"
"Ginevra!" Her mother gave her exactly the same kind of blazing glare that she gave Harry. "Wait. In the kitchen. I will be with you in a minute."
She stormed off, ignoring Harry's stricken eyes, and banged the kitchen door shut behind her, seething at the impeccably clean plates. Her mother came , shutting the door behind her.
"That is quite enough, Ginny. When will you stop acting like a child?"
She didn't know. All she knew was that she had to act like a child now to curb her temper and keep herself sane.
"You are making his stay here feel like as though he is staying at Malfoy Manor! I have never felt more disappointed in you-"
"Its all his fault!" she retorted hotly. "If he didn't-"
"I have no interest in knowing what went on between the two of you to make you act like this," her mother said coldly. "What I want is for you to keep in mind that he has suffered more than most, and therefore, think before you feel the need to act like a five- year- old who didn't get her toys."
Ginny shut her mouth, her cheeks turning crimson.
Her mother left the kitchen, leaving her to stand alone on the cold tiles, feeling appropriately rebuked.