The Last

'Chapter 1 – Beginning of the End'

"Harry!" Ron Weasley snapped his fingers impatiently in front of Harry Potter's face. Harry's emerald green eyes blinked, and he turned his gaze from the fiery red hair that was just across the table. Bringing his voice down to a whisper, Ron continued, "That's the third time today I caught you staring at her mate! Get it together." Ron had been rather pleased with himself when Harry had told Ginny Weasley they couldn't be together anymore. Rom believed it 'unnatural' for his best friend to date his sister.

Harry began puncturing the pasta on his plate restlessly. He was seated at The Burrow, and usually this meant he was at peace and had tranquility wrapped around him like a blanket. And yet, on this particular evening, he couldn't have felt less at ease. Thoughts swirled in through his mind, and he felt a slight pounding occurring over his right eye. Everything that had happened… it was all too much.

His stomach took a sudden lurch as he thought of the old, kind face of Albus Dumbledore. "I need to take a walk," he mumbled. Ron looked at him but shrugged. Harry pushed his chair back and proceeded outside. The night air was cool and refreshing. Breathing deeply, he sat down on the set of stairs. Gnomes scurried back and forth, frolicking around in the last bit of daylight. The sun had painted the sky a deep shade of purple and pink. Feeling the normal sense of calm taking over his senses, Harry hardly noticed the petite figure sitting down beside him.

Ginny's almond shaped eyes bore into his. The question "what's wrong" seemed quite inadequate. Everyone knew what was wrong. Everything just seemed so unfair…

"Hey…" she stated simply.

"Hi Ginny."

"Harry – we need to talk."

Harry stared at her dumbstruck. He had said those very words when he said they needed to break up. What was she playing at? Saying they couldn't be friends? He felt the pit of his stomach clench. If he and Ginny couldn't go out as a couple, the least they could be was friends. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing that too.

"Listen, I thought about what you said Harry, and even though I agree with it-" she added hastily, "I wanted to let you know I'm ready to take those risks." Ginny was fiddling with a frayed piece of string on her skirt. She was eyeing him out of the corner of her eye, and blushing profusely.

Harry sighed. "Ginny, I know you are. But I'm not. I don't want you being put in danger just because Voldemort-" (Ginny flinched) "is after me. I don't want to be responsible for your death." Unshed tears shone in Ginny's eyes. "So that's it, is it? You just don't want to be responsible for my death, and go to Azkaban?" She was shouting by the end, and turned on her heel, running towards the door.

"Ginny, wait!" Harry called after her, desperately wanting to take back his words. Wait. He didn't want to take back his words, though. Ginny had taken it the wrong way was all. He hadn't even meant it like that! Confusion swam back into Harry's already busting head. He wanted more than ever to dump his thoughts into a pensieve, just as Dumbledore had once shown him.

Head in his hands, Harry closed his eyes. They itched with tiredness. He had not slept soundly since the beginning of his sixth year at Hogwarts. How could he? Everything was harder when the one person who could battle with Lord Voldemort, was dead. The pounding reoccurred over Harry's right eye, and he decided he needed to go up to Ron's room to at least try and get some sleep. Dragging his feet inside, he began mounting the stairs. Catching bits and pieces of the conversation downstairs, he felt greed run through his body. They were all laughing, having fun, and seemed oblivious to the challenges that lay ahead. He knew he had to start letting his mind rest, but at the moment grieving seemed easier.

Climbing the stairs, he heard sobbing issuing from the room on the left hand side. Knocking lightly, a muffled "Leave me alone!" followed. Harry ignored it and advanced into the room. Ginny lay sobbing on her bed, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. Her hair was sticking to her cheeks, which were flushed. She seemed to be shaking, and her lower lip was quivering. "Ginny, I didn't mean it that way at all," Harry's voice was quiet and calming. Looking up at him, she nodded tearfully.

"I know Harry. I just… I've been so emotional lately. With Dumbledore gone, and Lord Vol-Vol- You Know Who resuming power… it's all too much." She began crying silently, the tears flowing freely down her face once more.

"I know. But Gin, everything is going to get better. We're going to win." We have to, said a small voice in his head.

"But at what cost, Harry? We've lost so many to him before. I mean, you saw what happened to Sirius…" her voice trailed off, and Harry felt a stab of pain. His godfather, whom he had only know for three years, and was the closest thing he had to his dead parents, had died in battle just last year. Gasping, Ginny began to apologize, looking flustered. The reality of what she had just said had finally just sunk in and she broke down again. Harry shook his head and lifted her chin. "Don't be sorry. It wasn't like it was your fault or anything. And I have to get used to it sometime," he added grimly.

A sudden urge to throw his arms around her flew through Harry's mind. He hadn't touched her in so long, hadn't felt the warmth of her body against his own. Brushing away the tears with his finger, he gazed into Ginny's eyes fondly. She was so beautiful. It pained Harry greatly to see her like this. If there was anything he could do to make her happy, he would do it.

"Look at me, blubbering away," she laughed, wiping her face with her hands. He could see clearly now that they were shaking. Harry turned to leave the room, but felt a slight tug on his hand. "Will you – will you stay for a bit, Harry?" Ginny had a wistful look in her eye. Resisting the urge that once again passed over him, he nodded. "Yeah, sure." Ginny smiled, and threw her arms around Harry's neck. "Thank you," she muttered into his neck. The words felt like warm wisps of wind on his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. Pulling away, Ginny began staring at Harry. He stared back, burning to feel her lips – to become connected with her again.

The burning desire lingered for a little while longer. He slowly moved closer to her, their noses touched. Ginny's breath was held, and she closed the gap. Harry felt all emotions escape into the air around him. Happiness swelled in his chest as he felt her against him, and deepened the kiss. He was surprised at how much he had missed those moments.

Ginny pulled away quickly, breaking the magical charm he had just felt wound between them. "Oh my God, Harry! I'm so sorry I don't know what happened! Something just kind of-" but she broke off. Harry finished the thought by saying, "Came over you?" Ginny nodded. "Yeah. How did you know?" Shrugging, Harry felt the earlier sadness and confusion flood back to him. He didn't want to do this to her. Not now anyways.

Picking himself up, he left her room, and went up one more flight of stairs to Ron's bedroom. He stopped abruptly in the door frame, and felt like throwing himself down the stairs. Ron was sitting on his own bed, glaring at Harry. "I knew it. I knew you couldn't keep yourself away from her." He stood, shaking with rage.

"Ron-" Harry began.

"NO! YOU PROMISED HARRY! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD STAY AWAY FROM HER! I DON'T WANT GINNY GETTING HURT BECAUSE OF YOU!" Ron threw his finger accusingly at Harry's chest.

"It isn't like what it seems Ron!"

"YES IT IS! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD SNEEK IN THERE AND MAKE OUT WITHOUT ANYONE NOTICING, DIDN'T YOU? YOU THOUGHT THAT YOU COULD HIDE THIS FROM ME! DIDN'T YOU? DIDN'T YOU?" Spit flew from his mouth, and his ears were turning pink. Harry just gaped at him.

Hermione Granger rapped on the door. Ron stood fuming at Harry, and Harry turned to see a stunned Hermione. She raised her eyebrows, looking confused. "What's going on in here? It sounds like you two were going to kill each other!" She exclaimed. Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione began talking over him. "No. I don't want to hear it Ron," and shut the door behind her in one swift movement.

Ron threw himself onto his bed and wouldn't look at Harry for the rest of the night. Changing into his pajamas, Harry sat on his bed, staring into space. The first thought that came to mind was talking to Sirius, or even just sending him a letter. But Sirius was dead, along with Dumbledore. All his closest friends were in this house, and he had no other family to send the letter to. When on earth had the Dursleys cared whether or not he was happy? Petunia and Vernon had seemed very happy to see him leave. Their importance in his life had vanished the second he had turned seventeen. He had been ushered out of the house, his small bag slung over his shoulder, and the door slammed in his face.

Mrs.Weasley had agreed at once to let him stay with her family. Tears sprung from her eyes when Harry had told his story, and had been embraced in many rib cracking hugs. When he had first arrived at The Burrow, Ron had been ecstatic to see him, but as the days dragged on, Ron became more distant. He had caught Harry gazing at Ginny and every time he got a strange look on his face. Almost like he had something sour stuck under his nose.

Lying down, Harry closed his eyes. He was so tired, but sleep wouldn't come. His mind still reeled with thoughts, and he was becoming restless. Rolling over, Harry stood up and began pacing quietly up and down the length of Ron's room. Ron was snoring loudly, and apparently sleeping very deeply, with his tongue hanging out, and spittle dripping slowly from the corner of his mouth.

Throwing himself on the bed dramatically, Harry rolled onto his back. Taking off his glasses, he put his head back and tried to clear his head. Sleep crept up on him, and found Harry very slowly.

His dreams were disoriented and scattered.

Ginny was running down a hall, and trying to get into a certain door. Every time Harry approached her, the door would swing open and become locked. Harry tried running to her, but the door would just lock faster.

When he rattled the handle to enter what ever was beyond, snakes would slither from the handle, and it would become burning hot. The pain would spread up his arm, and then through the rest of his body. It was like being stabbed with assorted knives, all long and sharp. His head was filled with images of his parents, and Voldemort plotting his next move. Voldemort's cold laugh filled his head and rang in his ears. "You are next Harry Potter!" Harry's eyes flew open.

He was breathing heavily, with cold sweat stuck between his shirt. His scar was tingling, with sudden surges of pain every couple of minutes. Standing shakily, he glanced over at Ron's wrist. The glowing numbers 5:30 shown through the velvety blackness. Sighing, he grabbed a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt and advanced to the door. That high, cold laugh was still ringing in his ear drums.

He got dressed slowly in the bathroom, not wishing to awaken Ron and tried to recollect pieces of his dreams. The harder he thought about it, the faster it began to ebb away. There was a knock on the door, and Hermione entered. "Harry! What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

Hermione blushed. "Well… I was just um-" she was stuttering, and the colour was darkening in her cheek bones. Harry grinned. "Never mind."