But For All the Whole World

By Headupintheclouds

"-Harry," gulped Ron. His heart had sunk into his stomach and he could feel a cool sweat starting around his hairline. By the stunned looks on his father and Hermione's faces, it looked as though they were experiencing similar notions.

"Talking about me, eh? That's simply grand, isn't it? Perhaps I should put the kettle on and we can spend the day making scrapbooks of my life. Lovely little mementos of my tragic life, no?" he asked edgily.

No one had yet recovered enough to respond.

"I just came down for some tea," Harry continued, before turning quickly back toward the kitchen. They heard some general slamming of cupboards and kettles, followed by a calm that meant the kettle was filled and being heated.

"You know, Molly said I ought to have been home-" Mr. Weasley checked his watch, "precisely twenty-one minutes ago. I best be off."

Ron looked wide-eyed at his father, surprised that he would dart off in the middle of such an extreme occurrence.

"I'll send your mum, yeah?" and with that, his father Apparated far away.

Glancing between each other and the open door, Hermione and Ron wordlessly decided to check on Harry. Hermione started down the hallway as Ron took his time shutting the door and turning the bolt. Any wizard who wanted to get into the house would have no trouble, but the act of it somehow made him feel just a little safer.

He cautiously headed down the hallway after Hermione to find her quietly brewing Harry's tea in the corner.

Ron sat down across from Harry, who was leaning back in his chair and staring at the wall beside him. The look in his eyes scared Ron far more than Harry's destructive actions that afternoon; his eyes looked blank, uncaring. They lacked the passion that was normally so marked. He'd given up.

"Harry, I'm- I didn't mean for you to hear that," Ron pressed.

"Doesn't change a thing," said Harry in a cold tone.

"I shouldn't've-" Ron started.

"He deserved to know." Harry responded quickly.

"Listen, Harry-" Hermione began from across the room.

"I really, really don't want to talk about this."

"But Harry!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry gave him a disbelieving look before heading up the stairs noiselessly.

Hermione stood in the corner of the room, holding a mug of dejected tea. She half-considered going up after him, maybe slipping a cheering potion into the tea, but thought better against it.

"What're we going to do?" Ron asked, looking drawn.

For once, Hermione had no answers. The feeling that gave them both was unsettling, and they were glad to abandon the thought as a curt knock came from the door.

This time Hermione shot off down the hallway, glad of something to keep her busy. She could make out the blurred figure of Mrs. Weasley through the swirling patterned glad of their front door. She opened it.

"Where is he?" asked Mrs. Weasley, not one to offer pleasantries with such a devastating topic at hand.

"His room," Ron responded.

Mrs. Weasley scuttled up the steps, and they heard her speaking in soothing tones to Harry through his door. After a few moments of this, they heard the door open and then close again. Mrs. Weasley was inside. They only hoped she had a better idea of what to do and say than they did.

Hermione started pacing across the room, searching desperately for something to busy herself with. Ron merely slumped down the wall a bit, trying to imagine a life without Harry. He couldn't seem to conjure up an image or memory that lacked him- the Golden Trio would no longer be a trio.

The time Mrs. Weasley spent with Harry seemed to last hours- days. Each time Hermione rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway and looked toward the door, she was surprised not to see sunset tones, swirled and obscured by the glass of the front door.

Merlin only knew how long she was up there- Ron was very nearly catatonic for the time, and Hermione could hardly keep still. If asked, both would swear she'd been up there for days.

As they heard Harry's door close and her padding slowly down the stairs, neither quite allowed relief to take over them. They searched her eyes as she continued down the stairs, praying for some sign that this was all a miserable joke. They found no hope at all.

"He wants it over," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice hitching on the last word. The entire time she'd been up with Harry, they'd heard no sound of tears. But now, away from Harry, they seemed to be building around her eyes, and she appeared to be fighting them.

"He- what?" asked Hermione uncomprehendingly.

"Wants it over- everything, he says. He wants to see You-Know-Who, he wants to die. He doesn't want to spend his life wondering when it'll happen- he wants it to be done on his own terms." That was the moment when Mrs. Weasley broke down. She struggled to keep her huge, heaving sobs quiet, and she tried not to let Harry hear. They all knew that the last thing he would want was their pity.

"When?" asked Hermione suddenly, her eyes shooting up from the floor to meet Mrs. Weasley's watery ones.

"Tonight," she responded.

Hermione looked at Ron, who had blanched at the thought.

"He- tonight?" asked Ron, horrified.

Mrs. Weasley only sobbed harder and louder, nodding.

"I- I've got to make the arrangements. We all know that there's no way to stop him. And I simply can't bear the thought of him dying, surrounded by Death Eaters, all gloating and awaiting his death. I'm calling an emergency Order meeting," she informed them, then Apparated back to 12 Grimmauld.

Several minutes of silence ensued. Hermione thought back to her dusty books and hours spent in the library, wondering why they hadn't prepared her for this.

Ron was simply trying to parse what his mother said- the words were all strung together but didn't' seem to form anything coherent.

"She right," Hermione voiced, finally.

"'Bout what?" asked Ron, still looking thoroughly perplexed. He couldn't imagine Harry killing himself.

"He shouldn't go about this alone. You-Know-Who is going to make him suffer- he seems to know what bothers Harry most." Hermione said gently.

"Yeah," said Ron. Hermione seemed to be weighing something out in her mind.

"I think we should go." Hermione alleged finally.

Ron blanched again at the thought.

"What, and WATCH? Maybe send him a wave and blow a few kisses from the bloody SIDELINES?" Ron seethed.

"To support him, Ronald."

"You mean support him as he falls to the ground, lifeless?" Ron questioned further, looking utterly distraught by the idea.

"No. Ron, would you prefer that he were surrounded by people who hate him, like your mum said? Honestly." Hermione was now looking quite put out.

Ron thought it over a minute, before nodding gently.

Hermione patted him carefully on the shoulder before turning back toward the stairs. As she started to mount them, an idea seemed to hit Ron.

"What one of us did it?" he asked quietly.

After Hermione recovered from her initial shock, she started screeching in a most quiet and terrifying way "Harry views this as a dignity thing- he would not want us to do it, Ron. He would not want one of us to become murderers before it's absolutely necessary."

"Right." Said Ron sheepishly to Hermione's back as she huffed up the stairs.

He followed her.

Hermione knocked gently on the door, and neither was surprised to hear no reply.

"Harry, we need to-" Hermione started before Ron interjected, "We're coming in!" And with that, he pushed past Hermione, grasped the doorknob, and shoved his way in.

Harry looked as careless as before, lying on his bed on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He was completely still, in firm contrast with Hermione and Ron, both of whom couldn't seem to settle themselves.

"Don't want to talk," Harry said gruffly, turning away from them. As they started to approach, Mrs. Weasley was suddenly back in the room, looking older than ever and entirely unnerved.

"It's set," she said, speaking more to Harry than the other two.

He didn't move, but responded with, "What time?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Everyone in the room stayed very still for a moment, until the ever-practical Hermione checked her watch.

"That's in less than an hour!" she exclaimed.

A/N: Shorter than it ought to be, I'm aware. No idea how to make it up to you. I know I'm awful at this "updating" bit, but I am trying. I best be off, however, I've "miles to go before I sleep," and I sincerely hope that one or two of those miles will include another chappy for Lily Evans, Captured. Review like crazy, m'dears. Also check out Lily Evans, Captured, as it is in dire need of readers.