To mend again.
Harry sat down at the table and sighed heavenly.
Finally alone.
He had been waiting for this all day. Since the moment he came back from office (which he had visited only a few hours in the morning, just to check some paperwork and his memos) and Ginny had been nagging about the colours she wanted to change in the living room ("All this black is so depressing, don't you think, 'Ry?"), he wanted her to disappear. He hated the thought, because he loved her. He did. She was amazing; cooking like a true chef, chatting like an intellectual, discussing Quidditch like a true professional and above all: the sex was amazing. She could kiss him with pure fury and passion, oh GOD how he craved for her touch when he was at Auror missions somewhere in Europe… He had written her tons of letters, he had bought her everything he could think of… And yet, he wasn't satisfied. Why in God's name wasn't he? They were in love. They were twenty-two, they were at the beginning of their lives… But something was missing. He just didn't know what. And he couldn't figure out why he had wanted to be alone so badly.
Suddenly, he heard a noise. The *plop* he had heard, came from the hallway. Ginny couldn't be back already, could she?
'Harry?'
A voice, too familiar to not make him shine of happiness, filled the room and brought colour to the entire place.
'I'm here Hermione!' he replied, 'I'm in the kitchen!'
He stood up quickly and began to search for some butterbeers, just like Sirius used to do when he had owned the place. He loved Grimmauld's. It was a place where he could be himself, where he didn't need to pretend to feel happy when he wasn't. It was like Sirius had reincarnated in the house. It brought him at peace.
He found two bottles and he opened them just when Hermione came in.
'Hermione! It's so good-…'
Harry quitted his sentence when he saw her face. She looked completely devastated. Her eyes were red and swollen, she looked as white as a sheet and her entire body trembled, like she had cried really hard. Why had he missed the noise of concern in her call? Probably because he was just too bloody happy to see her again, after three whole weeks.
'What's wrong?' he asked, concerned.
Hermione had this look in her eyes; something between pure despair and anger. Merlin, again?
'Have you been fighting with Ron?' he asked calmly, trying to be gentle, but as soon as he had spoken these words, she broke down. She clamped onto him and he nearly tripped over while she was smearing his shirt with her tears and mascara.