Disclaimer: sadly, I own nothing

Post DH, just Harry at the burrow with the Weasleys. DH SPOILERS!

**Ron's POV**

"He hasn't talked to anyone in days!" Hermione whispered quickly.

"You're exaggerating," I replied.

These talks had become very common lately. The final battle and losing Fred had hit everyone hard, but it seemed to have effected Harry even more. He didn't talk if he didn't have to, and if you asked him a direct question he'd either avoid it or answer with one word. He wasn't even lashing out at us, like in fifth year. Harry had gone through fazes like this in the past but it was mostly bottling things up, this was different, it was like everything went in one ear and out the other. Like nothing really mattered anymore.

Everyone was worried about him, my mum and dad, Bill, Fleur, Ginny was near going nutters, and everyone else. They all asked me and Hermione what was wrong, but he wouldn't talk to us either.

"I am not! You know it's true," She said.

Just as I was about to answer Harry opened the door to my room. He stood there, in the doorway for a moment, looking back and forth between me and Hermione. He knew what was going on, he had for a while now. He hated when we talked about him, but he simply walked past us, grabbed a book, and left.

"See!" Hermione exploded as soon as she was sure Harry wouldn't hear her.

"I guess," I said, "But what are we going to do about it?"

She looked at me for a moment, then sighed.

"I have no idea."

**9:00 that night**

"You have to talk to him," Hermione caught my arm as I made to go upstairs.

"I'll try, but it's not going to work," I told her for what felt like the hundredth time.

As I approached my door I saw a light go out and heard shifting from inside. I opened the door to nothing but darkness, I could see the outline of a shape in the bed Harry used. This was how it went every night; he would pretend to be asleep and I would pretend to believe him. Usually he got up at some odd hour of the night, when he was sure everyone was asleep, and wander around the house. I have never witnessed this, being the heavy sleeper I am, but mum told me she finds him asleep in some odd places early in the morning. Apparently mum had found him in the kitchen, on the porch, outside the shed, and, recently, in the hallway. Hermione thinks he tries to tire himself out, so he doesn't think before bed but I never thought too much of it.

I sighed as I crawled into bed. I told her this would happen, now that he knows we're up to something he'll be working twice as hard to avoid us. We should just let him work things out on his own, but no. We have to help him, Hermione says, We have to let him know we're here for him, Hermione says. I swear, this will never work.

**The Next Morning**

"YOU CAN'T!"

Wow, talk about a rude awakening.

"What's goin' on?" I slurred, my words heavy with sleep.

"He's trying to leave!" Hermione screeched.

"I'm not 'trying', I am," Harry stated calmly.

"What?" I said. This wasn't making ant sense, why would Harry try to leave?

"You cant just walk away from your problems," Hermione yelled, her voice slightly shaky.

"Walk away?" Harry said, turning to face her. His voice was scarily calm and his eyes were burning with fury. Apparently that was the wrong thing for Hermione to say. "When have you ever known me to walk away?"

"Harry, that's not what I-" She started before Harry cut her off.

"If its not what you meant then why did you say it?" He retorted.

"Harry, we have to get over this, and we can…together! The Weasleys and I need you to get through this!" Hermione stated.

"I can't," Harry said.

"What?" I put in, still slightly confused.

"I can't just get over things, it's not in my nature," he said.

"Harry, you've been through these things before, of coarse you-" she started, but before she could finish Harry cut in with

"What do you think I did when those people died? Got over it and moved on it the two weeks it took before I saw you again? No! I used it as fuel for whenever I wanted to quit! When I got tired of fighting Voldemort did I run off to my brothers house," he cast me a dark look, "or sit around crying? No! I reminded myself that Voldemort wouldn't stop at just a schoolmate, my parents or godfather, he would keep going! If I didn't stop him soon he would kill everyone I cared about. After losing so many its second nature to bottle things up. And, contrary to what you may believe Hermione, it gets harder the more people you lose, not easier."

This was the longest speech I've heard him make since the final battle, over two months ago. By the end of it he was breathing hard, looking back and forth between me and Hermione, and the anger in his eyes had mixed with unbelievable pain. It was clear that he was ready to fight us on this, his fists were clenched and his jaw was tight.

Hermione must have seen this too because she said, quietly, "You'll come back, right?"

"Of coarse," he said, clearly taken aback by her sudden retreat.

"Before we go back?" I put in. We had decided that we were going to return to Hogwarts for our last year, well Hermione had decided. A lot of kids were going back to repeat last year, wanting to learn what they should have.

"Probably," he said, as he turned and sped out of my room.

I accepted this, Harry may be hurt, angry, confused, and every other emotion in the book, but he still wouldn't lie to use,

"Don't worry, he will be back," I told Hermione as she turned to face me with tears in her eyes.

"How are we going to tell your family?" she hiccupped as a reply.