Chapter 8

Harry was conscious of his feet touching the ground and realized he had just Apparated back to the Burrow. Stumbling, Harry made it halfway towards the crooked little house before a short red-haired person came trotting towards him. Harry became aware that he was sobbing as the person hugged him.

For a long time, Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything, but just hugged him. Harry didn't say anything, and stopped sobbing. "You've been gone for almost a full day now," a watery-eyed Molly said quietly. That surprised him. Maybe he had been out cold longer than he thought.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered.

"Don't be, dear, but where were you? We thought for sure you were killed, or kidnapped… how did you get back? Did you escape?" She wiped her eyes on her chronically attached apron. "I'm being silly… you don't want to think about that right now, come in and eat something…"

Harry never felt less hungry. He wanted to shut himself in his room and sob, and think. He had to think of something. There was no other option. The alternative would destroy two souls.

Well, look on the bright side, the sarcastic part of her brain said. Now you know why he left you in the garden. His excuse was that it was going too far, that he didn't want anything to happen without virtue. That's what he justified it with. She remembered how conflicted her mother had been when she saw that Harry hadn't been with Ginny that fateful night.

Last night. Huh. Felt like a week ago.

Ginny stopped crying. Crying was useless. She had learned that throughout her childhood. All it did was make you thirsty, and she wanted no excuse to go downstairs, to leave her bedroom sanctuary. The lack of Harry threatened to overwhelm her as she slid to the floor with her back against the wall.

She thought he had loved her; no, she knew he had loved her, for at least a while. He had. He had to have. He did.

Now, though, she wasn't so sure. One moment Harry walks out of the garden on her, and she had felt upset. Then, she thought she realized why Harry did this, and it was almost resolved; and then he had to go and run away.

Idly she realized her mother ought to be on her way up with a tray of food. The other two trays' worth sat in the corner of her room, untouched; if she ever got over this, she could use some kind of heating charm on them and eat them. For the moment the powers of hunger and magic had deserted her. Maybe she still had those powers, but was too apathetic to care. Regardless, it didn't matter.

Sure enough, that tell-tale stair began to creak as someone made their way upstairs. It creaked again. Two people. Maybe Ron and Mum. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

The door to George's old room opened, and shut; she could hear it. Not twenty-four hours ago the love of her life had slept in that very room. Now the door was just a sound. Why?

She smelled chicken; the second person must have been her mother with the food. That stirred something. George must have come home for some reason. Ginny hoped her mother would say something to him so that he didn't feel like she was avoiding him. She had no strength left to venture beyond her room any more. In this very spot, she had kissed him on his seventeenth…

With any other guy, she would only be confused at this point, not all but heartbroken. Yet it had never made sense in the first place. At first he had no feelings for her, and then he did, and now, it appeared, he didn't. Well, it could be that he was just using her. How could she know?

Suddenly, the door opened just a crack. "Ginny, I have your dinner. I wouldn't have bothered bringing up the food because I knew you wouldn't eat it, but something wonderful has happened." So Mum knew she wasn't eating. Ginny's subconscious gave a noncommittal grunt.

"What's happened, Mum?"

"Harry's back."