Harry looked out the window near his desk. The weather was enchanted to be raining today, and it looked as miserable as Harry felt. He drummed his fingers on the table and started scribbling on a scrap of parchment on his desk. He scrawled a broomstick and a little figure with a hand outstretched for the Snitch. He gave her red hair and a cheeky smile. Then he tapped the parchment with his wand, and his caricatured Ginny flew around on her broom, waving at him and blowing him kisses. He had never felt so lonely in his whole life.

He scrawled another little figure on a broomstick, giving this one untidy black hair and a pair of glasses and tapped the parchment again and watched as the two flew around the parchment, chasing each other, the snitch forgotten.

Harry couldn't believe how ingrained Ginny had become to him in the few months between Voldemort's death and her return to school. He had come to rely on her so much, to tell him when he was being a prat, and to make him laugh when he desperately needed to. Like now, Harry thought to himself, turning to stare morosely at the magical downpour once more.

He was broken from his stupor by the sound of someone clearing their throat quite loudly behind him. Harry spun quickly and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt with his arms folded in front of his chest, perusing Harry quite sharply with one eyebrow raised.

"Harry, what are you doing?" he asked in his slow voice, still watching Harry closely.

"Erm... well," Harry began, reminded forcibly of being at school and having not done his homework.

"I want you to follow something up for me." Kingsley stated formally, ignoring Harry's stammered attempts to answer.

Harry nodded, eager for anything to take his mind off Ginny; where she was, what she was doing at that very moment. He shook his head to clear his muddled brain and plastered a serious interested look on his face.

"There's been some rumours of Voldemort supporters getting some publicity from Australia and New Zealand. Apparently the ones we couldn't catch could be with them and ring leading; Macnair, Yaxley, and a few of the others who managed to escape. Now I know Hermione lost her parents in Australia, and I want you to make sure you don't even hint any of this to her, but I need to know how much she had told her parents about you, and about our world. Hermione, being a muggle-born probably felt safe sharing secrets with her parents, and if there's even the slightest chance that their disappearances were the work of Death Eaters... well we need to know what information they were privy to about you."

Harry felt his insides clench. He strongly suspected that Hermione's parents had run afoul of the Death Eaters, and he had put a great deal of effort into trying not to think about that. And now Kingsley was going to assign him to this. He knew it mustn't be considered dangerous, whatever he was planning on asking Harry to do. Kingsley had been especially strict with Harry's safety ever since he had joined the program, understanding that Voldemort's supporters would dearly love to avenge their leader.

But how could Harry do this to Hermione? How could he dredge up these memories from her mind and expect her to cope anymore? She hadn't so much as smiled lately as far as Harry knew, and even if these memories didn't cause her to spiral into her depression further, how was he going to be able to prevent her from knowing what he was doing? He agreed with Kingsley, Hermione couldn't know about the suspected Death Eater threats on his life. None of them could. They had all done enough, lost enough, and none of them needed the added worry of Harry, on top of their NEWTS.

His heart jumped and squirmed simultaneously at the idea of returning to Hogwarts; even if it was not as a student. He loved the idea of seeing Ginny every day and maybe having a fly with Ron during lunchtimes. But he knew he would see the blackened marks on the walls that magic hadn't yet been found to remove. The scars on the once beloved castle would feel like scars on his conscience. Ron had told him, that the wall that had been blasted where Fred had died, had been rebuilt with magic, but that the outside wall was still a sickly burnt colour, tinged with green streaks.

The idea of seeing this wall terrified Harry.

"Well?" Kingsely asked, peering at Harry worriedly, and Harry realised he had been silent for several moments, while considering the option.

His eyes fell. He could not meet Kingsely's eyes when he turned down the assignment. But his gaze fell on the scribble of himself and Ginny flying around on brooms. His scribbled imitation caught Ginny and kissed her, little hearts fluttering around them on the page.

Harry gulped.

"Count me in."

Harry had sent Ginny an owl that evening, and he could almost hear her shrieks of joy in her response. It was a strange feeling to be so torn between utter fulfilment to be seeing her again, and utter terror to be returning to that place. He did not like the feeling. Fear was worse than anything he would experience there he was sure, but the fear of going back had him almost paralysed. It was like a pestilence of Dementors had suddenly descended on Harry and he was having trouble hanging onto his thought of Ginny to keep him grounded.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat that night, the first time in months that he had not slept through the night. What had he been thinking? He had let his desire to see Ginny override everything! Harry rolled over and closed his eyes again, trying to keep any vision of a destroyed Hogwarts from his mind. He could see every moment of that night. Every moment he had watched someone die.

It had been his fault. If he hadn't delayed going to Voldemort, they would all still be alive. George wouldn't be struggling to run a shop by himself. Teddy would be calling Remus Daddy, instead of Harry as he had last week. Harry remembered horribly, Andromeda's face as the toddler had gurgled the word as Harry had fed him his lunch. Harry hadn't known what to do. Should he correct Teddy? He wouldn't understand anyhow, he was barely one. Instead he had hurriedly made an excuse about getting back to work and almost run for the door.

He loved Teddy, but he definitely wasn't ready to be the little boy's father. Maybe distancing himself for a while would be best. That would be less confusing for the poor kid. Harry grimaced in the dark.

He would do what Kingsley asked. It would be better for Teddy if he wasn't a confusing influence. He could see Ginny, and Ron and Hermione. And he could deal with his fears and return to Hogwarts. Harry hated this fear that had overtaken the love he had once felt for his home. The fear of the memories that would resurface was stifling him. The only time he could remember feeling this scared was... Harry suddenly had a thought.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He called out, and opened his eyes to watch his stag gallop out the end of his wand. Harry watched as the stag galloped around his bedroom and then paused. He sighed.

He felt no different. It wasn't helping. Of course it wasn't helping, he told himself angrily. This wasn't a dementor in his house, this was his fear actually being realised. He looked at the patronus stag and closed his eyes.

"Stay," he whispered.

He could see the bright light of the stag through his eyelids, and it erased the vision of that wall. Harry focused on the light, and managed to get back to sleep. His dreams involved a red-headed hand-drawn figure, who blew him a kiss then disappeared in a flash of green light.