A/N: Welcome, dear readers! A bit of an explanation, here. This is a fic written by two authors. We have worked together to write this story for you for a loooong time. Months, in fact. Originally we had this story published under the username Thanatoslives, but due to the fact that that account is used to write single-author fics already and this is a team project, we decided to create a new account that we both have access to. We apologize to anyone who began reading this story under that username and for any confusion caused because of that. We promise that this is the only time that will happen.
In advance I'd like to write a trigger warning here. This will be the only trigger warning offered throughout the story, so take heed. This story includes descriptions of violence, adult language, and sexual content. This fic is rated M for a reason, so read at your own discretion.

For more by us, see our separate accounts, Thanatoslives and Regina Dorian.

Disclaimer: we do not own anything about this except the plot. All characters are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

A loud, metallic crash sounded from several floors below, causing Harry to jolt awake in his too-small bed. Groaning sleepily, he sat up and stretched his arms toward the slanted ceiling, rolling his head back and forth slowly as he allowed his sleep-fogged eyes to adjust to being open. He sighed as another slam of metal and Molly's irritated voice echoed up to the room he shared with Ron, who was probably already downstairs with Hermione. After staying here as many times as he had in the past several years one would think he'd be accustomed to all the loudness that was the Weasley family, especially early in the morning. This, however, was not the case. He supposed it was partially because of the tension that had begun to fill The Burrow since the end of the war, which was such a short two months before. Coming back to normalcy was proving to be more difficult than anyone had hoped it would be. He and Ginny had been bickering a lot, which had made Ron more awkward to be around. Hermione was not taking sides, but Harry could tell she felt uncomfortable, too. The whole family was grieving over a lost son, along with countless lost friends. Harry and Hermione were grieving, too. Journalists were begging for interviews and public appearances. So much was happening, and nobody had had much time to recover. All anyone could do was take things one day at a time.

"Harry, dear!" Molly called from below. "Breakfast!

Harry debated whether or not he should change from his pyjamas before heading down to the crowded kitchen, and feeling as though it might add a diversion from his routine, he decided not to. Placing his glasses on his face and slipping on his night shoes, Harry opened the door to Ron's bedroom to find Ginny standing just outside it with her hands fisted into her hips.

"Took you long enough," she said with a slight prickle in her tone. Harry's brows furrowed, his brain not awake enough for an argument this early in the morning.

"Love you, too," he mumbled half-sarcastically as he pecked her cheek and passed by her towards the stairs. Ginny was apparently not satisfied with the chaste kiss being all he gave her, her arms snaking around his waist from behind was proof of that.

"Harry," she stage-whispered admonishingly when he didn't turn around. Holding his breath, he did as he knew she wanted him to and faced her, looking down at her arched, ginger eyebrows that were the cherry-on-top of her disgruntled expression. "I was hoping for a better good-morning kiss than that."

"Your mum will get mad if we don't head down for breakfast soon, Ginny." And right on cue, Molly called for both of them that time. Ginny released Harry with a scoff and a light stamp of her foot. Silently, Harry thanked Molly for the interruption, though he didn't want to analyze why that was too deeply at that moment. Instead, he focused on identifying the smells coming from the kitchen, even if he already knew that eggs, sausage, and toast was the only thing on the menu. He hoped that coffee would be, too, but he knew that money was tight for the Weasleys even more than usual and coffee hadn't been served with breakfast or otherwise in over two weeks.

Upon entering the kitchen, Harry ducked his head quickly as an owl swooped in right over him, pausing only to drop a stack of letters into the bowl of scrambled eggs on the table before dipping its wings and swooping back out. Harry recognized the owl as one belonging to Hogwarts and inwardly cringed at the pile he knew were invitations for Ron, Hermione, and him to return for an eighth and final year of school, along with Ginny's seventh year requirements.

"Bird's shat in the eggs, mum," George said in a flat tone. Perhaps, Harry considered, the joking was his coping mechanism. "Morning, Harry," George added with a nod towards the raven-haired wizard standing in the doorway.

"Watch your mouth!" Molly warned with narrowed eyes. She looked from George to the now egg-dipped letters. "Mangy bird…" With a flick of her wand, the letters were out of the scrambled eggs and swerving through the thick kitchen air towards each of their recipients. Harry caught his between his forefinger and middle, and sat down at the table beside Ron. Not caring in the least about what the letter said, he tucked it under his thigh and promptly forgot about it as he loaded his plate with a much smaller portion of food than he would've preferred.

"Mum, how are we going to afford all these books?" Ginny asked as she gaped at her letter.

"I'm sure your brothers have some you can borrow for the year, dearest." Molly looked weary standing at the kitchen sink, even though the dishes were doing themselves. House work aside, there was a lot else that was weighing on the woman, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty that he might be one of those things causing her distress.

"Morning," Harry addressed the table. Arthur nodded to Harry without looking up from the Prophet he held in his hands and almost everyone else repeated it in turn. Hermione was avidly reading her letter and had not heard him. There was the faintest hint of a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her lips, and Harry thought she was very glad that she would be able to finish where she left off before everything had happened.

"I don't like that look she's got, mate," Ron whispered to Harry. "She's going to try and force us, you know." Harry swallowed the eggs he'd been chewing for too long before he responded.

"She can't force us, Ron," he pointed out. "She's just going to try to s'all."

"Right. Well, you might be safe. She's not your girlfriend." Harry didn't think he'd ever see Ron look jealous at that fact for the rest of his life, and that made him chuckle. "But since Ginny's going back, maybe you will too?"

Shrugging, Harry returned his attention to his plate of food. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to do in the near future. All he knew for sure was that he did not want to return to the place where he'd almost died, and had seen so many people kill and be killed. No, he wouldn't do that at all. Harry shook his head without meaning to as he realised that this would cause another argument between him and Ginny. In recent weeks their disputes had become more and more intense, and he couldn't help but feel hopeful for her return to school. Perhaps a break from each other was what they needed, he thought. She probably wouldn't agree with that. As it was, she hadn't looked at him the entire time they'd been in the kitchen, and ignored him still when Harry got up from the table to rinse his plate in the sink.

Fresh air, Harry thought suddenly, the heat of a tightly packed kitchen and cooked food getting to him. The quiet that being outside would bring with it was also incredibly welcoming just then. Harry thanked Molly for the breakfast and was given a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder before he left the kitchen and headed for the front porch. It hadn't gone unnoticed by him that the smile hadn't reached Molly's eyes, but he figured that it was not his place to mention it.

Sitting on the warped and paint-chipped bench swing, Harry looked out at the surrounding yard and unkempt garden. He watched a little gnome chase after a butterfly and wondered when things would feel better. He was back in the familiarity of the Burrow, yet he felt out of place, and he knew that it was mostly because of the changes that had inevitably been brought about due to the war. Being a hero didn't feel as good as he'd thought it would. He felt an emptiness in his soul, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly why that was. Maybe it was the piece of Voldemort that had died in him when the man━if he could be called that━had died, but Harry thought it was something else, too. He didn't have much time to consider it, however, before the front door swung open beside him and Ginny stepped out. Harry forced a smile onto his lips at his girlfriend, whose hair was gleaming in the morning sun. She returned the smile to him and crossed the small porch to sit beside him, taking his hand in hers.

"Harry, I wanted to talk to you about this year," she started softly, looking up at him with sweet brown eyes. For being one of the feistiest Gryffindors he'd ever met, she sure did know how to appear the innocent maiden.

"Yeah? What did you want to say about it?" He tried to make himself sound curious, but even to him the question came out flat; he was already aware of what she was about to say.

"It's just━you're coming back to school, right?" Harry stared at her for too long without an answer. The silence stretched and her shoulders slumped as her sweet look turned into a sour one and her hand tightened painfully around his. "Really, Harry?"

"What's the point? It's not like I'd be missing anything." Bloody hell, he thought as he saw his mistake in saying that. The expression of utter ferocity on her face was enough to tell him he'd royally fucked up with that statement.

"Except your girlfriend!" she shouted. "Or am I not important enough to be missed? I'm certainly not important enough for you to show any affection to." The same argument of him not being affectionate enough towards her popped up once again, and Harry tried his best not to clench his teeth in frustration.

"Ginny, you know how your parents feel about that," he reasoned. "I don't feel comfortable doing… things that you'd like me to… here." A lame finish, he knew, but the truth all the same. Well, perhaps not the whole truth, as he was omitting the very important fact that he didn't feel comfortable doing 'those things' with her anywhere, though he didn't understand why. 'Those things' should come naturally to him, but for some reason they didn't.

"Harry, I'd like it if you'd like to do those things too." She was becoming more aggravated with each response he uttered, and he thought now might be a good time to shut up completely. When he didn't say anything, she rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand from his. "It feels like every time I try to kiss you or cuddle with you, or get close to you at all, you just push me away. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I haven't been pushing you away! I've been respecting the boundaries your parents have asked me to, and I don't think that's wrong of me." Ginny shook her head and hummed angrily.

"Please come back to school, Harry." Her voice had gone quiet again, but was still adamant. Harry wished she could understand, without him having to explain, why it was he felt the way he did about returning to Hogwarts.

"I can't," he whispered, wondering if this could be the breaking point in their already strained relationship.

"What does that mean for us?" she asked, looking away from him. From the waver in her voice, Harry could tell she was on the brink of tears, and he felt like he should reach out to her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "You should focus on school, Ginny. We've been fighting so much lately, and with everything that's going on…" He didn't know how to finish that sentence, he realised half way through.

"You're breaking up with me." It wasn't a question, and Harry had no clue if that's what was actually happening.

"No, I'm not." Harry ran his hand through his hair, letting it linger on his eyes momentarily. "I'm not breaking up with you, but… I don't know." Harry felt like he could answer every question anyone asked him for the rest of his life with 'I don't know,' at this point. Nothing was clear anymore. The path that had been laid out for him since the day his parents died to protect him had vanished the second he'd won the war, and ever since that moment he hadn't the slightest idea what to do about much at all.

Ginny turned back to face him, a fire blazing in her eyes that Harry had seen many times before, but never as full of heat as it was now. "Then I'm breaking up with you," she said, and then set her lips in a tight line. Tears streamed from her eyes and Harry knew that she meant it. Not much of him wanted to argue with her decision, and he wasn't sure if the part of him that did only wanted to out of necessity.

"You don't really mean that, do you?" Ginny stood up quickly and stepped closer to him.

"Of course I don't want that, Harry," she said in a pleading voice. "Can't you see I want you? It's becoming painfully obvious that the feeling is not mutual."

"Just because I won't come back to school?" He was getting really sick of everyone trying to force things onto him. His whole life had been obligations and requirements and prophecies with little room in the way of making his own choices. For once he'd like to say 'yes,' or 'no,' without being reprimanded for his decision. At the same time, now that he technically had that freedom he didn't know what to do with it, and it was somewhat terrifying.

"No, Harry. It's more than that. But if you can't see what it is, then this conversation is pointless." Before Harry could respond Ginny was storming through the door, letting it slam behind her. If anyone had overheard their fight, the only sign they showed was in the eerie quiet that had fallen over the tilting house. For the first time in two months the Burrow was silent.

It's fucking cold. It's so fucking cold. Draco couldn't seem to get the thought from his head as he lay on the stone floor of his cell. He tried to remind himself that he only had one trial left, but it didn't help. That one trial was not going to save him. That one trial was going to ensure that he was kept here for the rest of his life. No, there were no Dementors. Not anymore; Shacklebolt had done away with them shortly after the war had finished. It didn't help the cold, though, which seemed to consume Draco no matter what he did. He wasn't even sure what day it was anymore, or how long he had until his last trial.

At first, Draco had tried to pace his cell, jog, do jumping jacks and pushups, any sort of workout just to stay warm, but after so long that proved pointless. With the little food he was getting in Azkaban it was unwise to waste all the nutrients on exercise, even if it did keep the chill at bay. In the distance he could hear a woman shouting at one of the Auror guards about the unfairness of it all and how she's a proper lady who shouldn't be held here. She said it was inhumane. Draco had heard her voice before, and he was almost certain that it belonged to Dolores Umbridge. The Auror told her to shut her ungrateful mouth and be glad they hadn't offed her instead. Then a gust of wind blew frigid water up and over the rocks surrounding the prison, flooding into Draco's cell.

Scrambling away from the ice water, Draco stood and climbed onto his small cot. His teeth chattered against each other as the water slowly leaked back outside, leaving an even colder air to Draco's cell. This has to end, he thought. I can't live like this forever.

Boots slapped wet stone and the sound became louder as they got closer. Draco hoped that the Auror approaching his cell was bringing food, but he had a very strong feeling that this wasn't the case. Surely enough, when the guard was visible through the bars Draco recognized him as one who had a tendency to be violent towards the inmates, himself included. He was not holding food.

"Malfoy," the Auror barked. Draco flinched away from the harsh words, feeling as though they were tangible. "Malfoy! When I speak to you you answer!"

"Y-yes sir," Draco said as he found his voice.

"Was that backtalk I heard?"

"No, no I would never." Shame flooded his entire being as he bent and bowed to the guard on his hands and knees. He knew the only reason he did was for fear of being beaten, but it still gave him a sick feeling in his gut. A Malfoy kneeling to anyone was disgraceful.

"That's funny, because I think that sounded quite like backtalk to me," he said as he unlocked the many chains keeping the cell inescapable. Draco's breath picked up and with each chain that clattered to the stone floor he felt his muscles tensing further, something that was even more painful due to the cold that seemed to penetrate his entire body.

"Please," Draco begged. "Please don't…" But there would be no avoiding the Auror's wrath. Not this time, and perhaps never again. The man tsked as he stepped closer to Draco's cowering and shaking form.

"Now now, you know begging has never worked. You've earned every bit of punishment you've received here, you filthy fucking Death Eater." On the word 'death' a thick, leather, steel-toe boot landed swiftly in Draco's side, cracking one of his ribs. Draco screamed in agony, but this didn't lessen the pain of the oncoming blows. "You killed my sister! You disgust me!"

"I-I didn't━" The wind was knocked out of him and his denial was ended by yet another kick, this time to his face.

"Don't give me your pathetic excuses, you're guilty and you'll pay for the things you did!"

And so it went, for longer than Draco knew. By the end of the Auror's assault he was broken in several places and bleeding from even more. As the last chain was locked and the out of breath Auror retreated, probably to beat another inmate, Draco's cell was flooded by another wave of ice water, and he thought he'd rather die than spend another day in misery. Even death seemed to have a grudge against him, though; there were no sharp stones to end his suffering, no ropes from which he could hang himself. All he had was the cold, hard ground and his waning consciousness to ease his pain.

It had been three days since Ginny's supposed break up with Harry. Even though she had said she was done with him, there were signs that she was not. One of those signs was that Ginny had begun debating the boundaries Molly and Arthur had laid out between Ginny and Harry, loudly. Harry had walked in on one of those arguments just that morning and his face had gone scarlet at what Ginny was saying.

"I'm an adult, and I should be able to do what I want with Harry!" she'd shouted at her parents. Arthur looked disturbed and Molly roller her eyes. George, who sat at the table, nearly choked on his sandwich at Ginny's words.

"And we're your parents, so as long as you stay under our roof, you'll do as we say! No sex! It's final, there is no getting around this, Ginevra. I'm embarrassed that you'd even feel the need to debate this rule. I don't know how many more times I can tell you this, but you know how your father and I feel about sex before marriage. Until you and Harry are married, there will be no fooling around in this house!" Molly turned at the sound of the kitchen door swinging open and gasped softly as she noticed Harry. Ginny looked over too, and her jaw dropped at the sight of him. "Harry, dear. How convenient that you're here. Don't you think that's a fair rule?" Molly pleaded with her eyes, but it was unnecessary.

"I do. This is your house and you've been kind enough to let me stay in it, even though…" No, he wouldn't change the topic to finances. They were probably embarrassed enough about their lack of funds without his mentioning it. "I think any rules you and Arthur give us should be followed." Harry glanced at Ginny, knowing this was not the answer she'd wanted, but Molly and Arthur looked at Harry with respect and pride. Staring directly into Ginny's eyes he said,"Not to mention there's no one here I'd be breaking that rule with anyway, seeing as I apparently don't have a girlfriend. Except maybe Ron. He's looking dapper, lately, isn't he?" Harry glanced at George, his smirk slipping from his face. He'd hoped George would catch the joke, but he only responded with a strange look, causing Harry to feel more gawky than he already did. Ginny let out a sound of outrage and stormed from the room, shouldering Harry aside as she went. Harry, looking unaffected as he could muster, regained his balance and took a sandwich off the tray on the table, nodding to Molly in thanks.

"Don't you feel that was a bit harsh?" Molly asked him softly as he reached the kitchen door. "She's distraught over this whole ordeal. I thought you two loved each other."

Harry didn't turn around before he responded, and instead replied to the old wooden door in front of him. "I thought so, too." And then he left the kitchen.

These awkward situations had happened too many times to fit into a three day period, yet they had, and Harry was at his wits end. Either Ginny was through with him, or she wasn't, and he decided he needed to confront her about it. Nothing was being sorted out between the two of them, and there was still two months before school started. Harry made up his mind and went up the stairs in search of Ginny, but was stopped by Ron poking his head out of his bedroom.

"Hey, can I talk to you a minute?" Ron looked disgruntled, and Harry knew that this had to happen, too. Ron hadn't said much to Harry since Ginny had broken things off, and Hermione had been oddly quiet towards him too. She hadn't even mentioned returning to school, and that was strange by itself.

"Yeah," Harry said. Ron moved the door further open and Harry went into the cramped bedroom, taking a seat on 'his' bed and biting roughly into his sandwich. Ron began pacing the room and Harry counted his steps between turn-arounds. One, two, three, four, five, six, turn. One, two, three, four, five six, turn. Ron paced several more times before he stopped and faced Harry, appearing anything but calm.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Harry asked, knowing exactly what Ron had meant.

"Don't pretend you don't know. Why did you break up with my sister?"

"I didn't break up with her! She broke up with me!"

"It doesn't matter! Why?" Ron's face was slowly turning more and more pink. Harry thought that he should give his friend a straight answer before the blood vessel in his neck burst.

"Haven't you seen how bad things have gotten? Have you not heard all the fighting that we've been doing since the war ended? She's not happy, I'm not happy, and I'm not going back to that fucking castle!" Harry caught his breath after his explosion. He hadn't realised how upset this had made him, but it was obvious now. The breakup hadn't broken his heart, but part of him was mad at himself for breaking hers. "I never wanted to hurt her, Ron. You know I loved her. I even thought, maybe one day, we'd have a family. Now, it's like nothing makes sense any more! I can't take her constant pawing, her need for affection. I don't even think I have any left to give anymore. Even when I did give her what she wanted, it was never enough-and you know the rules your parents gave us. They're the same ones you and Hermione were given! With all your family has done for me, I can't just… I can't just disregard that."

Ron looked as though he was at odds with himself. When he spoke, Harry knew it was the case. "It's not like I want you to shag my sister. And I understand not wanting to disrespect my family." Ron sighed heavily. "You haven't been acting like much of a boyfriend, though. Anyone can see that. You ignored her, avoided her… That's not how couples act." Harry knew his friend was right.

"I've been avoiding everyone, if you haven't noticed. Not just Ginny," he defended himself poorly.

"She's the one person you should be able to go to when you're avoiding everyone. If you didn't have feelings for her, you shouldn't have led her on."

"I thought━" He took a deep breath before he started yelling again. Yelling was not going to help the situation. Calmly, he said, "I thought I did have feelings for her, but things are changing and I can't help it." Harry wasn't even sure what was changing between himself and Ginny. It hadn't started with one thing in particular, not that he could see. He wasn't certain that Ginny was fully responsible for the change, either. During the war she had been like his light at the end of the tunnel, his one shot at normalcy. Now that he had the ability to bask in that light and take that chance, it wasn't what he wanted and it was becoming clearer and clearer as the days passed.

"Then you should've told her when you stopped having feelings for her." Harry didn't have a response for that, but Ron went on anyway. "When did you stop?"

"I don't know." And he didn't. Ron shook his head as though he didn't believe Harry, but before he could say anything a knock sounded on the door to the bedroom.

"Harry, letter for you." Harry stood and crossed the room, opening the door to find George not-looking-at him. Everyone seemed to be not-looking-at him lately. For three days, to be precise.

"Thanks." Harry took the letter from George and shut the door. He sat back down where he'd been and disregarded the letter, not feeling like it was important when he and his best friend were fighting. "Ron, I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be saying that to. You need to talk to her, mate." Ron sat on his bed across from Harry and leaned back on his hands. "There's still a bit of time before school starts, and your breakup is making things even more hectic. It's only going to get worse if you don't at least try to make up with her."

"I'm not going to beg for her back," he said, knowing his face had twisted into disbelief.

"I don't mean ask her out again. I mean try to make a peace offering, I don't know, do something. She's fucking heartbroken and it's hell for everyone else." Harry nodded. That's what he'd been about to do━kind of━before he'd been taken aside by Ron. He stood, deciding it would be better to get it out of the way sooner than later.

Knocking on Ginny's door felt strange for two reasons. The first was because he had never had to before. The second was because he felt like he shouldn't be doing it now. It took a moment for Harry to hear any sort of response from behind the door, but after he'd knocked a second time he heard Ginny softly tell him to come in. He opened the door and peeked around the corner. Ginny was lying back on her pillow with her knees up, a Quidditch magazine in her hands.

"I reckon you'll help win the house cup this year," Harry said, stepping into the room which was decorated with Gryffindor colours and Quidditch posters. Ginny glanced at him and then back at her magazine. Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to mention, seeing as Harry wouldn't be there to see it. "Can I talk to you?"

"You already are." She didn't move, or motion for him to sit down, so he stood in the middle of her room awkwardly, shifting his weight from hip to hip every so often as the atmosphere between them thickened.

"Um…" What was he supposed to say? What did he want to say? He'd thought he had some sort of plan, or starting point for this conversation, but as he stood in Ginny's room everything flew from his head and was replaced with confusion and discomfort.

"Well?" Ginny put her magazine down and sat up in her bed. She stared at him with a blank expression as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry." That was probably as good a place to start as any.

"Okay," she said, cocking her head. His apology wasn't going to be good enough unless he explained why, he understood.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Why?" Harry sighed. She wasn't making this any easier than he'd hoped she would.

"Because I care about you and I didn't mean to… lead you on."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Harry shuffled his feet as she continued to stare at him, expecting more. He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to say. Breakups were never easy, and he didn't exactly feel like the fault was all on his shoulders.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked, as though reading his mind.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he explained. "I mean, we both have, but there's been so much tension between us lately, and you haven't really explained why you're upset with me. Ron says I've been avoiding and ignoring you, but I don't really want to be around anyone right now."

"Then why are you here?" Because he didn't have anywhere else to go. He had a feeling 'here' didn't mean the Burrow, but in her room.

"Because things can't continue like they have, Ginny. We have to sort this out or everyone else is going to suffer because of us."

"Come back to school and everything will go back to normal." That was enough to irritate him.

"Sure, you make it sound so simple. 'Go back to school, and you won't have to constantly think about the fact that the last remaining friend of your father died at that school along with practically everyone else.' Yeah, easy enough, right?" Another thought struck him, and he couldn't control his sharp tongue as it spoke his thoughts. "Not to mention the fact that with that last remaining friend, his wife died and left an infant, my godson, with no parents. At that school. I almost died at that fucking school. Your brother died at that school." He scoffed. "Yeah, normal. Okay." Ginny looked like he'd slapped her, and he may as well have with what he'd just said. He couldn't force himself to care at that moment, though.

"Really, Harry? You think I don't know that?" Tears had begun to form in the corners of her eyes, but Harry was too angry to comfort her. "You think I don't know that my brother fucking died there? I have no choice but to go back and face my fears. I thought, being the bravest Gryffindor in the history of Gryffindors, you'd see that you should face yours, too, but apparently I was wrong. You can't run away forever."

"I'm not running away. I'm making a decision for myself for once in my life. Sorry that bothers you so much." But he wasn't sorry, and his tone implied that. Ginny choked on a sob that had little to do with his lack of sincerity, he thought, and more to do with the state of things.

"What happened to us?" she whispered, looking down at her rumpled bed sheets. Harry shook his head. He didn't know the answer to that question. "Why am I not enough for you?"

"It's not━you're not━"

"Then why, Harry? If I'm enough, then why?" Her large brown eyes were boring painfully into his green ones and he felt the need to look away, but didn't. "Harry." She stood up and crossed the small space between them. When she stood inches away from Harry, she placed her hands on his chest and he flinched. "You do this, every single time. It's like you aren't attracted to me." She paused, her hands floated shakily back down to her sides. "Are you attracted to me?"

"Why would you ask that?" Harry thought she was a very beautiful girl, but for some reason that didn't make him feel like they were 'meant to be' as he'd once thought.

"Part of me feels that you're not." Tears still clung to her lashes as she focused on Harry, and he couldn't help but notice, once again, just how stunning she was becoming as she grew into womanhood. Lately, however, it failed to draw his eye. It didn't seem to move him the way it used to, and hadn't for some time. "I love you, Harry."

"I thought… For the longest time I thought I loved you."

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"A lot of things, and it seems that they've only brought us further apart. All I know is that I don't want to fight anymore," he pleaded.

"I don't plan to fight anyone, Harry. I'm done fighting. There's been enough of that this past year for a lifetime." He wanted to ask if that meant she'd stop throwing dirty looks at him and everyone else, but he knew that would only set her off again, despite her words. "Are we finished?"

"Yeah. I still care about you, Ginny, just━just not the way I used to. I didn't mean for this to happen." Ginny sighed and sat back down on her bed, looking more defeated than upset.

"I know, Harry. I know."

He gazed at her for a moment, still unable to gather why he couldn't love her like he used to. After standing in her doorway for what was probably too long, he left her room and went back to Ron's, which was empty of anyone else besides Harry. As he approached 'his' bed he saw the letter he'd set there and picked it up as he sat down heavily. Needing to take his mind off of everything, he popped the golden wax Ministry seal on the front and unfolded it.

Mister Harry James Potter,

The Ministry of Magic would like to first thank you for all that you've done for us and the Wizarding World. We owe you a debt that is far too significant to explain in words. I regret that one more favor is requested of you.

Known Death Eater, Draco Lucius Malfoy, is on trial, currently, when he is not incarcerated at the Azkaban prison facility. His final appearance before the Wizengamot is to be held on August first, 1998. As you were privy to his behaviour in school, certain crimes he may have committed, and the fall of Voldemort, I would like to request that you are present as a witness. You have the choice of declining, though I must say that your evidence would be greatly appreciated by myself and the Wizengamot in order to properly judge the Death Eater.

Many well wishes, Kingsley Shacklebolt