Screw the Gancanagh – he makes the story too complicated. I wrote four different outlines and didn't like them.

I also don't like it when Harry and Ginny's inevitable breakup in stories is entirely her doing, like some childish delusion in which a girl wants an already taken guy and goes through fantasies about how it would be all the competition's fault. Ginny isn't evil. Nor is she unreasonable, a cheater, psychotically possessive or abusive, or dead. Please stop killing her. Molly went through a lot to get that girl and it sucks that everyone keeps offing her for the convenience of a story. Quit it. T.T;; It makes me sad.

So, here's a more plausible explanation. It is angst-ridden and long, but breakups always are. I can't seem to write- "Ginny's dead, move on."

There also seems to be little real portrayal of how Harry's time with the Dursleys may have affected him, and I had to include that too.

I promise it'll be a fun story later on, we just have to get there.

"Harry… this is both the sweetest and most annoying thing you've ever done. This is a bad time for presents."

"I disagree," he said smoothly.

Not many people succeeded in breaking up with grace and understanding. Technically, though, the big fight had occurred while they were still dating. Now, a month later, Harry and Ginny had decided to meet in a public place to talk about things. They had ended up in the Muggle coffee shop near the Ministry where the patrons had an odd habit of wearing robes and cloaks and generally confusing the hell out of the staff.

Thanks to Harry's newfound ability to suggest plausible explanations for the odd things that happened around Muggles lots of people in the area now thought there was a secretive acting club or role-playing group on the street that was primarily made up of people that were embarrassed about their cosplay habit. Harry, who still mostly wore Muggle clothes (and cloaks because they were comfortable) partly agreed with that theory. He knew plenty of Muggle-born witches and wizards who seemed to have forgotten where they came from, and treated the wizarding world like a never-ending role play. Like Hermione, for one, who no longer knew how to light a fire without her wand.

If that made them happy, so be it. But Harry liked his t-shirts and jeans, thank you very much.

And that was part of their problem. Just because Harry was fine with something did not mean everyone else was, or visa-versa

Harry shook his head indulgently, setting the box gently on the table. "Want me to take them back?"

"No," she said quickly, smiling. "No, I'll keep them."

They were beautiful earrings, warm gold forged into pregnant mares, each with a silver foal standing beside her. The back of each was engraved with the message, "Not all treasure is silver and gold." to illustrate the meaning of value. Harry found it hilarious that no witch or wizard would know where the quote came from, so it was a bit of an inside joke between him and Hermione already, as she had helped him pick them out. Harry had enchanted them himself with shielding spells and reinforced with them with permanency so that it wouldn't weaken or dissipate the same way his mother had done with her gift to Slughorn all those years ago. They would draw power from him as long as he lived and protect the wearer, even if they only had one. He had given her two sets of them so that she could give one to her inevitable daughter, since he knew she would have one come hell or high water or six sons beforehand.

Ginny knew she had a problem accepting gifts like this. All Weasleys did, in fact. It irked Harry to no end because every time he tried to give her or Ron or their parents something nice there was always an awkward feeling about it. They were grateful yet frustrated. Harry just wanted to give his friends nice things, and the Weasleys were uncomfortable accepting anything expensive because their living situation had hard-wired them to be very aware of money on a constant basis. Somehow, no matter how much love was in the present, it always felt like a debt.

In Harry's opinion it was easier to slay a Basilisk and outfly a Dragon on a broomstick and break into Gringotts than try to give a Weasley anything expensive. Ron was getting slightly better about it, since Harry had the 'you saved my life' card to play from time to time. He and Hermione were still laughing about the horrified look Ron had given him when Harry handed them the deed to a house as a wedding gift. Harry didn't see how it was a problem to begin with since he hadn't bought the property; it was an inheritance from the Black family. Just one of a dozen or so properties nobody was looking after. The fact that it had a large-ish library stocked with books on the subjects Hermione needed for her career and a yard big enough to teach children Quidditch in was coincidental. Mostly.

There are a lot of issues that come up when love is involved, and Harry and Ginny had fallen into a terrible trap. They definitely loved each other. That was not something that either of them had questioned. It was the way they interacted that had ruined any chance of them marrying, though.

Two in the morning and they were still talking. The place was supposed to close hours ago, but Harry was a regular and the manager heard them talking when he brought them drinks and he'd assured them that he could stay open. By the end of the talk Ginny and Harry hugged each other fondly, pleased with their decision, and Harry left the owner a massive tip.

The hard part now was announcing to the Family that they'd called off the wedding.

Mere hours later they were at the Burrow in the dining room, sitting at the table surrounded by the family Ginny had and Harry desperately wanted. They had decided to get this whole thing over with in one day like tearing a patch from a wound that had scabbed over.

Harry sat silently in the din of shouting and demands for explanations until Ginny cast a flare to get everyone's attention. She looked to Harry, and he sighed. He faced the loudest voice of protest and began.

"Ron, I lived in a cupboard until I was eleven," Harry said plainly, as if he were talking about something as simple and inevitable as bad weather. "Not just at night either. When I wasn't working I was locked in. Uncle Vernon kept pesticides for the garden and other things in there, in the shelf above my cot. There were all sorts of wires and things above me with electricity flowing through them. I didn't get out to use the loo much, and I had to hold it a lot. Even when they had the windows open in the summer and it got hot in there, they wouldn't let me out. That wasn't good for me, and the Healers said I have an enlarged liver, which means I had to have been exposed to a lot of toxins while I was growing."

If anything, the silence was louder than the yelling. Harry's reluctant voice was as prominent as an explosion in the vacuum of stunned quiet. Ginny stared into her coffee. She had already heard it all, and both she and Harry had finished throwing their fits about it.

"I wasn't fed well, and you all know that stunted my growth and development. It was only luck that I managed to catch up after getting sent to Hogwarts, but even then I only ate well outside the summer months. There's a difference between scrawny and emaciated. The Dursleys had several reasons for putting me in baggy clothes, and being too nasty to buy new ones was only part of it; I didn't look as bony in them as I would have in the right size. It created the illusion that I wasn't too thin and that I was just wearing things that were too big for me, and robes weren't much different. They never took me to a doctor. I can't recall ever getting a vitamin or flu shot…"

"Stop," Hermione snapped. "We get it." She wiped her eyes with her napkin and slammed her hand back down on the table, angry and without a target to let it out on. Ron just shook with fury in his seat, keeping himself in check because his mother was sobbing and he didn't want to make it worse. The older Weasley men were listening intently. All but Charlie were here, since Norberta was sick and he'd promised to watch over her closely for Hagrid's sake.

"He's well enough now," Ginny said gently. "Believe me, we've already gotten him through sessions with a mind-healer. Harry is not fine, but he certainly isn't off either. It's an awful thing to think about, but the mind-healers said living like that helped him cope with the war much better than the rest of us did. The hardships almost felt normal, and didn't tax his body much more than simply existing before. That's why he hasn't had to go to St. Mungo's for Post-Traumatic Stress like we have. Harry… he was used to it, to an extent. And by the time the war was over he felt better about how he'd grown up. His mind is amazingly well-balanced like that. The war was a sort of therapy for him in itself. He gained a sense of worth when he won, and that hasn't left him."

"Right," Harry agreed, smiling at her. "But we knew there had to be some consequences of living like that for so long. When people are cornered like that they have two choices; fight or give up. I chose to fight, and so did Ginny when the war reached Hogwarts and Umbridge took over. But that decision didn't end when the war did. We're both very, very dominant. Ginny and I have very similar personalities, and we just don't work well as a couple. It causes too much fighting because we both want to be in charge, and that isn't an option. We're excellent friends," here they clasped hands over the table, "but we couldn't get married. Hell, we can't even be roommates. It would fall apart."

"We've been talking about it for a long, long time." Ginny sat back and fingered her new earrings thoughtfully. "The last nail in the coffin came from the Healers last week. It isn't the main reason we're breaking up, but it is a significant contribution."

"What's that?" Arthur asked miserably. "What could be worse than the rest of it?"

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The consequence of growing up like I did is stunted development, guys. I'm perfectly formed, but there's a deeper problem. I don't, er…"

"Harry's sterile," Ginny finished kindly for him, because Harry had trouble stating it. He nodded gratefully at her despite the room full of people gaping at him in shock and the creative French profanity coming from Fleur. "We had no idea because he functions just fine, but we hadn't been using contraceptive potions and nothing had been happening. For a whole year, so we both were tested. We thought it might have just been an injury nobody had noticed or a curse or something. It turns out all that time starving and being near chemicals and all that stress and heat… they can't fix it. And before you get mad at me, Harry made the ultimate decision, because he knows I want a big family, and we're both too possessive to have a consort."

Harry swallowed. "We're both alright with adopting, but Ginny wants to have some of her own, too, and I can't do that for her. I understand it. It may not be an option for me, but it is for her. It'd be selfish of me, very selfish, to stay with Ginny knowing that. No matter how many angles we look at this from it just doesn't add up. We tried. We did. But it didn't work. That's all."

Ginny and Harry let go of each other's hands. She cleared her throat and stood up, signaling the end of the worst part of the conversation. "The wedding is off. We're sorry. We know you went through a lot of trouble planning it, and the tabloid backfire will be a mess…"

Harry snorted. "Speaking of which, has that Skeeter woman registered yet?"

"No," Hermione said with a slow, wan smile. "No she hasn't."

"Good." Ginny smiled. "Because we're giving an exclusive to her competition and she isn't to print. Anything at all."

"Done," Hermione nodded.

Molly simply couldn't contain herself any longer. She rushed over to hug Ginny, then went to Harry and wouldn't let him go for a while. Not until he comically pretended to choke and flailed at George and Percy for help. It lightened the mood a bit and everyone settled down into a much less dramatic atmosphere for the remainder of dinner.

Finally, after all the stress and explanations and promises to visit when things settled down, it was time to go. Harry paused at the door, unsure of what to do now that they would have to live apart. Who was going home, and who was leaving? Harry would give her the house for certain, any of the ones he owned actually, but he didn't know how she would receive that suggestion-

"You're thinking too much again," Ginny interrupted him. "Go home, get some sleep. I'll stay here, alright? We can talk more… later. After we both feel better."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, alright."

"And you'd better wait till I get married to give me a bloody house," she snickered. "I know you were thinking about it."

There was an awkward moment when he left. They usually hugged no matter what, even if one of them was storming out angry. It was an unspoken signal to the other that everything would be fine once things cooled down and they could talk again. That didn't happen this time, and Ginny turned away to go upstairs. She did, however, turn again and give him an honest smile.

"Friends, remember? We're still friends. If you find someone soon I get to meet them."

He smiled back at her. "That sounds good. Keep me posted on you as well."

"I will."

When Harry walked out the door, Ron and Hermione slipped out with him. "Stay for a bit, mate. Let's have a drink."

Harry shook his head. "Thanks, Ron. But I'm tired. I just want to go home."

"Should we go with you?" Hermione asked. "It'll be fun. We can all get pissed and throw bottles at innocent fire hydrants again."

Harry chuckled, remembering that had happened after a particularly bad fight he and Ginny had gone through. He'd slept at George's for a week, and felt a lot better after their drunken wanderings. The Muggle Police had no idea where they all disappeared to after Harry hung his cloak up in the alley entryway and they got behind it. They could hear them joking about 'magic drunks' for a block as they continued to search and Harry, Ron, Hermione and George tried desperately not to laugh.

"Thanks. Really, I mean it. But I just want to go to sleep. Give me a write and we'll see about next weekend." He turned to apparate, but Hermione grabbed his wrist and hugged him. Harry tensed in her hold when Ron did the same from behind him. "Er... guys?"

"We love you, Mate. You know that, right?" Ron insisted.

"We understand what happened with Ginny, but you know it isn't your fault, don't you?" Hermione smiled.

Harry relaxed a bit and put one hand up behind him on Ron's neck and wrapped the other around Hermione as a way of returning the dual embrace. "Yeah."

"We didn't know things were that bad." Hermione's voice was muffled because her face was buried in his chest. "If Dumbledore had known-"

"I would have stayed there." Harry's voice was hard. "The man was magnificent, but I seem to be the only one that still holds a grudge he orchestrated my death."

Ron's grip tightened. "No, you're not," he hissed.

"Harry..." Hermione sounded pained.

"I know." he insisted. "Everything turned out better than it could have, and Ron's creepy accuracy at divination-"

"I didn't know that 'you're gonna die but you're gonna be happy about it' thing would happen!" Ron defended miserably.

Harry snickered. "It IS odd that all of your predictions happened."

"He was just spouting the first thing that came to mind." Hermione sulked.

"That's kind of how it works." Harry chuckled when she glared up at him. "Alright, I'll stop."

"We're just worried. Gin'll be home, but we're worried about you. Sure you don't need company?" Ron, annoyingly tall, set his chin on Harry's crown. Ron thought this was amusing - Harry just felt short.

"Yes," he reiterated, squirming. "Get off."

"But you're comfortable," Ron teased.

Harry fumed, "I am not!"

"Yes you are," Ginny called from the window upstairs. Several of the family were now watching them from the windows, presumably to make certain Harry wasn't about to fall apart the moment he left.

"Merlin's PANTS! Stop coddling me!" There came the echoes of several voices laughing as Harry began to actively struggle against them.

"Then stay with George," Hermione insisted, grasping tighter.

"For- will you let go if I do?" he growled.

"Must we?"

"YES!"

Snickering, they did so and he stumbled away from them. Ron grinned. "Calm down, Harry. You look like a ruffled cat."

"Though he always does," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm leaving now," Harry snarked at them. "Don't follow me. I'll get there alright."

Ron and Hermione nodded at him. "Just let us know if you need anything at all," Hermione insisted.

Harry paused before he apparated. "I will. Just keep Ginny company, yeah? She's taking this pretty hard. I know she thinks she's being selfish by wanting her own kids. She's not."

"We'll look after Gin, mate. You look after yourself."