I'M SO SORRY. Like, really, I'm so terribly, incredibly, completely sorry. I feel absolutely horrible for letting you wait so long; I just hope you can forgive me. I know that there is no excuse for not updating for more than one bloody month, just...I've never, ever suffered from a writer's block this severe before. It took about... twelve attempts to get this chapter into a form which I don't completely hate. I'm still not really satisfied, but in the end I figured that writing it yet another time was probably not going to make it any better.

And like always, I'd like to thank (and in this case, expecially apologize to) Anakaraya Ravenclaw, theghostinside, superioritycomplex144 and Injury13, as well as dedicating this chapter to superioritycomplex144 for being wonderful in general and sending incredibly sweet and motivating messages in particular. I don't want to know how long I would have taken to write this without you (:

When Harry finally returned to the small house his two best friends now shared, his heart was feeling as if it was to rip through his bones and skin any minute, his hands were shaking and breathing was becoming more and more difficult with every step he took.

Ron had always cared more about his family than anything else, one of the traits Harry always had admired most about him, but also the reason why he knew that with breaking Ginny's heart, he would not only do the same to his friend's, but probably smash their friendship to pieces as well. After all, how could he possibly forgive the man who broke his little sisters heart, the one person he had always wanted to protect?

For a second he thought about just turning around and leaving everything the way it was, but even now, something just told him how this was indeed the right thing to do, consequences be damned.

And so he took the last step as well as a deep breath and let his whole body fall forward, pushing the button of the doorbell at last, andfeeling the small piece of plastic move as if time had slowed down. From inside he could hear the shrill, unpleasant sound and fought back the urge to run.

When the door finally opened, it wasn't Ron, whom he had expected, but Hermione, looking almost as anxious and nervous as he felt.

'Hello, Harry', she greeted him, obviously trying very hard to sound cheery, but failing miserably at it.

'Hi.'

'I'm glad you've come', she said, stepping aside a little to let her friend in, 'I was fearing you wouldn't. Can't say I would've blamed you, after all…well, but I'm pretty sure everything is going to go fine. He'll understand. Maybe not immediately, but… '

The brunet gave her a smile, thankful for her attempt in calming both of them down a bit, even though it didn't seem to help anything.

'Where is he?'

'In the living room. And Harry?', she brushed a stray strand of brown, curly hair from her face, 'Good luck.'

'Thanks Hermione', he said, weak grin stretching his lips almost painfully, 'I suppose I'll just go in now, right?'

The girl nodded and the Golden Boy, taking a deep breath and cursing himself for both his lack of strength and the very idea of coming here all together, opened the door.

Ron was lying on the sofa, currently flicking through a Quidditch-magazine and at first, didn't notice the visitor at all; only the sound of Harry's shoes against the hardwood floor made him look up in the end. Those few seconds were a small mercy the other was terribly thankful for since, although he knew exactly what he wanted to say, finding out how was almost impossible.

'Oh, hello. Didn't know you were coming', the ginger started, 'Is anything wrong? Look, if it's about that blasted dinner…'

'No, no, that's not why I'm here', the brunet answered and the relief in the other's face was evident. There was something strange and almost amusing about the fact that Ron had wanted to apologize to him justnow.

'It does have something to do with it, though.' He took a deep breath and for the first time since entering the room looked Ron in the eye, 'But, first…I just really want you to know that I'm glad we're back being friends. I mean it.'

The ginger chuckled, although the slightest hint of suspicion appeared in his gaze, 'You're scaring me, mate. This sounds terribly much like something that's going to end with 'But unfortunately I'm going to die tomorrow.''

Harry laughed a little, well aware of the fact that he couldn't possibly hide his nervousness, 'Ah, no, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you there. I actually intend to stick around a bit longer.', he grew serious again, taking one last, deep breath before finally spitting out what had come to say , 'The thing is…I am going to end things with Ginny.'

And he had mentally prepared himself for the rage and the anger and the screaming, yet none of it came. Instead there was a single word, shocked, but completely void of any other emotion.

'What?'

It took Harry some time to recover, and in the end he still couldn't do anything than repeating his previous words once more.

'But why?', Ron asked, his voice still flat, but now drenched with disbelief. 'I thought you loved her.'
The brunet run a hand through his hair, making it stick up in even weirder angles than before, 'That's what I thought, too. It's…well, actually I don't know what it is. The feeling's just gone, I don't know why. I wish I could change it, but I can't.'

'But she loves you. It'll break her heart.' There was desperation in the other boy's voice, and Harry just didn't know if this reaction was better or worse than the one he had prepared himself for. Sure, he was glad that they didn't fight, but seeing the other boy so broken almost caused him physical pain.
'I know.'

'Why can't you give her another chance? If it worked out once…'

The Golden Boy shook his head, not really able to put to words why he was so sure that whatever he had once felt for Ginny would never come back, no matter how long he waited or what he did.

They stayed silent for a second, the pause only cut short because there still was something which Harryneededto know before leaving.

'Can we stay friends? Even though I'll leave her?', he asked, not even caring to disguise the desperate hint of his voice. They had known each other for so long; he didn't even want to imagine how it would be without the other male.

The ginger seemed to think for a second, before finally answering, 'I…I don't know. Not right now…right now I've got to be her brother, but…later. Maybe. Yes.'

'I understand', Harry answered and meant it. 'Thank you. I'll just…I'll see you around, okay?'

And with that, he turned around, half expecting Ron to call him back and either slap him across the face or tell him not to worry. Nothing happened, though, but Hermione was waiting outside of the room, rushing over towards him as soon as he opened the door.

'Harry! How did it go? Was it alright? I didn't hear any shouting, so I suppose it went okay…although, sometimes when Rom's really angry-'

The brunet cut her off, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. Seeing his usually collected friend that worked up was almost frightening. Somehow he would never have thought the whole situation could affect her so much, too. 'It was fine…I guess. I don't know. He wasn't really angry, just shocked. And well, he doesn't want to see me for the next weeks…not that I could blame him. I wouldn't want to see me either.' He gave the girl a weak smile, trying to wipe that concerned look off her face, but failed terribly. It only took her a moment's time to rush to his side as if fearing he could keel over every second.

'Merlin, Harry, what's wrong? Do you feel ill?'

'I'm fine, Hermione, really. I just haven't slept very much last night…and the effects of the adrenaline are ebbing off.', he added, seeing the look on her face.

'If you think so…' She still didn't sound very convinced, but let the whole thing go, something Harry was incredibly thankful for. Arguing was tiring him out terribly.

'Are you able to apparate or do you want to use the floo service? I can also call you a taxi if you prefer that', the brown-haired girl kept on talking, making Harry smile for real this time. Listening to her made him think of Mrs. Weasley.

'I'll be fine, Hermione, really. You just go back to Ron, I think he needs you more. And yes, I'll be in touch as soon as I've talked to Ginny.'

A small smile appeared on her face before she flung herself at Harry, squeezing him so tightly he almost couldn't breathe.

'I'm so proud of you', she whispered against his shoulder, 'You're doing the right thing. I just know you are.'

And the Golden Boy found that he agreed.

It appeared that he hadn't quite told Hermione the truth when insisting on being well enough to apparate by himself, since he only barely made it home, slumping down as soon as his feet touched the floor. He couldn't remember when he had last been so tired and only thinking of Ginny made him want to curl up and just sleep until it all was over.

Sighing, he dragged himself up from the ground and made his way over to the kitchen. Teafixeseverything, Mrs. Weasley had once told him, he just doubted it was also true when it came to breaking up with her daughter.

It wasn't, it most certainly wasn't, Harry decided half an hour later when the flames in the fireplace turned green and a familiar figure stepped out, clad only in a threadbare t-shirt and jeans. Ginny looked as if she had been crying, and it confirmed what he had suspected the whole time: She knew.

And he couldn't move, couldn't say anything, because suddenly he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her even more. In the end it was her to break the silence.

'You wanted to talk to me?', she said, more weakly than Harry would have thought it possible. He could practically hear the suppressed tears in her voice.

'Do you really want me to say it?', he asked her, voice clear of any hostility; he just didn't know if actually saying the words was going to make it easier or even more difficult for her.

She nodded, hands gripping the hem of her shirt so hard her knuckles were turning white and she bit down on her bottom lip in a way which left Harry wondering when she'd draw blood.

'I…I have to end this. I'm sorry.'

And Ginny bit down, piercing the already tender flesh of her lip, but licking the blood away before it could run down her chin.

She looked as if she had been punched, as if she hadn't slept for three nights in a row, as if she was gravely ill.

'Why?', she asked, the same question as her brother just minutes before and he found himself giving an answer, without thinking that it might hurt her even more.

'I don't love you anymore; I can't explain why. It just happened.'

It seemingly did since she bit down once more, and with her not paying attention, a drop of blood made its way down her pale skin. Harry wanted to wipe it away, but stopped himself before taking even a step towards her.

'I'm sorry', he said, hoping she'd believe him, 'I wish it wasn't like this.'
For the first time since she had stepped out of the flames, she looked directly at Harry, and it scared him how dull her gaze had grown.

'Is it because of him?', she asked, voice unsteady and raspy.

'Because of whom?' Harry didn't really have to ask, it was so obvious what Ginny was saying, but he didn't want to hear it. He wouldn't drag his friendship with Draco into this if he didn't have to.

'Malfoy.'

'He doesn't have anything to do with this; he doesn't even know.'

There was doubt in her eyes when she looked away again, doubt which Harry didn't like at all.

'I'm sure he'll still be pleased to hear it', she answered eventually, voice still broken but bitter.

'What? Why should he?' It was true, Draco didn't like Ginny very much, but the Golden Boy was sure that he wouldn't be happy about their break-up.

He didn't like he glance his now ex-girlfriend shot him at all, when she asked with what sounded like exhaustion in her voice, 'You are really completely oblivious, aren't you?' She ran her fingers through copper hair, unknowingly wiping away a little of the blood staining her skin; when she brought her hand back down, she noticed the red smudge, looking down on it in wonder.

'I should go', she suddenly said, voice still weak, but more steady than before, 'Goodbye.' And before Harry could even say a word, she stepped back into the fireplace, and without talking her eyes off the blood, threw down a hand of floo powder.

The room was tinted green for a moment, and she was gone, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, mouth still hanging open from when he wanted to tell her goodbye.

The tea was still warm when he found he could move again, and he took a sip, only to find it far too milky and sweet for his usual liking. Ginny had drunk hers like this, he had prepared it for her countless times and still it didn't really hurt thinking about it…or her. Sighing, he went over to the sink and poured the liquid down the drain, before leaving the kitchen to finally, finally go to bed. But then again…

He knew that if he was going to call anyone it should have been Hermione; but the girl wasn't the one person he really wanted to talk to just now. Another sigh escaped him, but even though he was tired, those few minutes wouldn't hurt.

Only a minute later he was kneeling in front of the fireplace, throwing a hand full of floo powder into it.
'Malfoy Manor', he said, as loudly and clearly as possible, not having forgotten the time he landed in Knockturn Alley. The flames changed colours and when he held his face into the fire he was greeted by the now familiar stone walls and dark furniture.

'Draco?', he called out, hoping that the other boy wasn't in the garden or simply too far away to hear him.

A minute passed without a sign of the blonde before he called out again, a slightly desperate edge noticeable in his voice. He didn't quite know why, but suddenly it seemed so, so important to tell his friend about his break up with Ginny. However, before he could contemplate the reason for this, he finally heard the familiar footsteps approaching. The door creaked open, almost hesitantly and Draco's head appeared. The ex-Slytherin looked around the room for a second, as if expecting to find it empty and, when finally noticing the other's face in the flames, let out a gasp of surprise which sounded as if he had entered before and found it void of another presence.

'Harry', he breathed, 'What are you doing here?'

'I wanted to talk to you', the brunet answered, words flowing from his tongue so much more easy than it had been with his former girlfriend, 'I've broken up with Ginny.'

He didn't really know what reaction he had expected from his new-found friend, but what he got was definitely more than it. In a second, each and every emotion known to man seemed to flicker over the fair-haired boy's face, most of them gone so fast he couldn't even try and place them. However, what was left in the end was a mixture of shock, confusion and a tiny, almost unnoticeable hint of… relief and happiness.

'What? How? Why? I mean I know you had your problems, but…' Draco spluttered, not even finishing his sentence. There was something about him which made Harry want to lean over and brush a finger, maybe two, alongside his face.

'Something…changed between the two of us. I don't love her anymore.'

Again, the other's face changed, losing some of the shock. He furrowed his brow, thinking, before answering in a strangely quiet, 'You don't?'

'Not anymore', the brunet answered, noticing that Draco had leaned forward a bit more, his hand now clutching at the stones confining the fireplace.

'Then…it's good that you split?' came the slightly breathless reply and Harry noticed that the other's knuckles had turned white from gripping so hard. And somehow it felt so important, so significant when he all but breathed a soft yes, that it made his heart flutter and his head spin.

Both of them stayed silent for a second, Draco's face so close to the flames the Golden Boy was sure it had to hurt, but the blonde didn't move away and somehow, Harry was glad he didn't; he unconsciously leaned forward himself, causing the flames to shift. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but there were no more words in his mind, just…

And then, suddenly, he was back in front of his fireplace, staring down on the burned down coals, lids still half closed and lips parted.

Back at the Manor, Draco blinked, startled, then quickly drew away from the fireplace and brought a hand up to his burnt lips. It hurt, but he smiled nonetheless. For just a second before Harry had vanished, for nothing more than a moment the flames licking at his skin had felt like a kiss.