Here's the correct version! Sorry, I was in such a hurry to get it up I got sloppy, oops.
But anyway, thank you for reading. Please review, I'd really appreciate it.
Thank you to ReadingRobyn for being such a great beta.
Everything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling.
.:x:.

Harry pressed his hands into his face and tried to regain his composure. He inhaled deeply and released a sigh. He couldn't comprehend what Ron had told him. He couldn't understand the things that people were saying. Everything was becoming a blur.

In his heart of hearts, Harry really did want to believe that Ginny was okay. He wanted to believe that she was just sad, and that nothing else was going to occur. He had spent so much time convincing himself that nothing serious was really going on, he had completely overlooked the things that were actually happening. Harry had spent so many days thinking that Ginny was going to move on he had forgotten to actually take a look at reality.

Now he knew. Now he didn't have an excuse that could keep him away from the problems. Now Harry felt like he was slammed into the middle of a thunderstorm without any shelter and the lightning was about to strike.

And truly, Harry felt responsible.

He was a coward. He had backed away from her when she was feeling vulnerable and left her to fend for herself. Now he knew what kind of damage he had created. The problem was, Harry had made a mess and he didn't know how to clean it up.

He lay back on his bed, resting his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes, willing some of the anxiety to go away. His emotions were up and then down, left then right. He felt uncontrolled and stressed. He just needed a break from the madness, a release from all of the pressure.

Harry stood to his feet and walked to the window. Outside the wind was blowing and the skies were clouded and dark, a storm was on its way. She was probably in her room, staring out at the same sky, which would soon be full of raindrops.

Everyone, including Ron, was right. There was an obvious connection between the two of them. Harry knew things about Ginny that she would never tell Hermione or Luna. He knew about her fears and her dreams. In a week after they were officially a couple Ginny knew him better than anyone. They were perfect together. And he had tried to hide it; he couldn't even say it to himself. He had denied what they had.

But at the same time, he was right. They'd never be completely protected. He couldn't show how he truly felt about her because if he did, he'd be putting her in serious jeopardy. He couldn't bear to even think of the things that the Death Eaters could and would do to her to get to him. It would be his fault, and he couldn't live with that.

There were so many things Harry wanted to say to her. He yearned to take her in his arms and hold her close and tell her that everything would be all right. He wanted to make her feel safe, but that was the one thing he couldn't give her. He wanted to apologize and tell her that he wanted her for his own. But how could he come clean or confide in someone that he had completely turned away from.

He wanted Ginny for his own. He didn't want anyone to be able to know the things he knew about her. He felt a longing in his arms to hold her and a yearning in his lips to kiss her. He needed her, he really did. He was desperate to say all of those comforting things to Ginny, but he also wanted to hear them in return. Harry wanted her to come to him, all alone, and smooth out the wrinkles and stop the constant ache in his chest. He wanted her to be his to take and was desperate to have her calm his nerves.

Perhaps she wanted the same thing. Maybe he was absolutely correct in thinking that even though he had caused her mass amounts of pain and heartache, she really wanted his heart. It was hard to imagine that she would take him back after everything. He'd made her mind a jumble and was responsible for people thinking she was crazy. Why she'd want him back was something he'd never understand.

And even though he thought it was completely unlikely, he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it hurt.

She was the reason he'd come back, the reason he'd put Dumbledore's wishes aside. She mattered that much to him that he was willing to throw his mission to the side just to make sure she had someone watching over her, even if it was unknown to her. He had come to watch over her, to make sure that she was safe, as safe as she could be anyway. He was constantly worrying that they would come for her, so just in case they did he was ready to be there to fight for her, to make sure nothing bad could happen to her.

That was what hurt so much. She didn't even see it. All it seemed Ginny could see was when he left, she hadn't even noticed he came back. It tore into him every time she ran from him, every time she stared at the floor instead of looking at him. It hurt so much that he clearly loved her more than she loved him. Ginny would not talk to him, and though her reasons were perhaps justified, they were too easy and childish for him to accept.

But he pushed them aside and kept going. Moving through the motions of going to classes he couldn't help but find pointless, talking to his friends as if nothing in the world was wrong. He smiled and laughed and played Quidditch as if things were normal, as if there was no war and as if his mind wasn't constantly focused on a little red head with the most heart-wrenching eyes he'd ever seen.

Ginny was making him feel more and more dispensable by the day.

And neither can live while the other survives…"

The words were practically burned inside Harry's brain in the same way the scar was burned on his forehead. They'd been playing inside his mind like a broken, unwavering record since that night in the Department of Mysteries. They weren't just words to Harry, they were an ultimatum, a terrible ultimatum that he didn't have a say in.

The hatred he felt for Tom Riddle was such a jumble, such a mixture of emotions that Harry couldn't have described it to anyone even if they had asked. He never spoke up about it because he didn't want to sound pitiful or pathetic, but every day when he would look in the mirror and saw his scar he would always wonder why him.

"Why me, why did it have to be me?"

Even though he hated the prophecy, hated the circumstances in which he had found himself in, Harry would never tell Neville about the possible fate that could have been his, he could never burden Neville with that. He also, in spite of feeling stupid for wishing it wasn't him, would never go back and put it upon his friend given the chance. He would never wish his life on anyone else, would never even consider putting the weight of being "The Boy who Lived" on anyone else's shoulders.

"Sign there please," the goblin said in his surprisingly airy voice.

Harry was snapped back to the present. He was sitting at the kitchen table in the Burrow with the head of legalities from Gringotts sitting across from him. Molly and Arthur Weasley were keeping everyone outside with a muggle style barbeque in order to give Harry privacy. He had only confided in them as to what he wanted to have done, and even that had been difficult. But they were the closest things to parents he had, and he felt that their advice and knowledge would help solidify his decision to write up an official will.

He scribbled his signature with the charmed quill and watched his name become literally set in stone. He couldn't help but find the stone tablet assumingbecause of the old saying (set in stone). His will was now certified and unable to be changed. The legal department at Gringotts would have it put up on a wall and no one, unless they were allowed top security and access to the department, would even be able to see it without being called forth by Graken, the head of all legal affairs in Gringotts.

"Well that settles it then, all personal effects including the Firebolt, the Invisibility cloak, and items of sentimental and material value will be left to Mr. Ronald Weasley. All textbooks or items of knowledgable or academic value will go to Miss Hermione Granger. And finally the property left to you by Sirius Black, including his personal effects and home, the sword of Godric Gryffindor and the fortune left to you by your parents and any remaining money deposited into your vault in Gringotts will be left to Miss Ginevra Weasley," Graken said with a flick of his wand, making the stone tablet dissolve and leave a simple piece of parchment in its place.

Harry nodded, shook the goblins hand silently and watched as he left. He felt an odd sense of peace knowing it was finished, but he couldn't stop his knees from shaking.

"Harry…"

He turned at the sound of the tiny voice coming from behind him. Ginny was standing in the back doorway, staring at the piece of parchment on the table with wide, brown eyes. Her hands were shaking and Harry rushed forward to grab the plate from her before she dropped it.

"You were supposed to be outside," he murmured as he began to scrub the dish in the sink the muggle way.

"I….I c-came to get in to get a piece of the tart Mum made…" she stammered, crossing her arms across the front of her lime green sweater.

"Harry,"

"I don't want to talk about it, Ginny," he snapped, sounding far harsher than he meant to and instantly regretted his tone when she shrank back.

"You can't think that you're going to die, you can't think like that…"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He knew if he looked at her face, looked into those eyes that always made him melt he would cry. He knew if he looked at Ginny he wouldn't be able to stop himself from holding her and telling her that everything would be all right if they were just together. He couldn't bring himself to justify putting her in danger. So, rather than looking at her and rushing into her arms, he turned on his heel and walked away.

"You think you're going to die. You're getting ready to die," Ginny said softly, unable to stop her voice from cracking and unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.

He was preparing to lose, preparing to leave them behind with only memories of him. And he wouldn't even let her console him. He had already left, even though he was still there.

Ginny snuggled herself in between the bookshelf and the wall. Everyone had been pointing and staring. It was a flashback to the time after she'd been rescued from the Chamber of Secrets. It was easier to hide than face the staring people with confidence that she didn't have.

She hadn't seen him during the day and she couldn't help but wonder if that was a good thing or not. He was the reason for her new found insanity and instability. But she still was head over heels in love with him. The way she felt about him was the kind of thing people read about in pathetic, paperback romance novels. All she saw when she closed her eyes were his piercing lobes staring back at her from behind those adorable round frames.

She could imagine him. She imagined him very, very well. She imagined how he felt, how his arms were shaped, how he danced, and tasted and how he smelled. Harry was something she was mysteriously drawn to. She didn't understand how Harry could attract her like no one else. The magnetism between the two of them was something she knew people only dreamed of, and it tore her apart to not be able to act on it.

She hadn't talked to him all year except for that fleeting moment in the carriage. She couldn't decide if she was avoiding him or if it was the other way around. Ginny wasn't making an effort to talk to him, but Harry wasn't exactly throwing himself at her either. She didn't know who this Harry was. She hoped he was the same, but she didn't know if he actually was.

Most of all though she just wanted to hear that he was hurting too, that he wasn't as completely collected and fine as he seemed to be. That he hadn't already moved on, that he was still thinking about her. She wanted to hear that she mattered to him at least as much as he always would to her.

Things were too hard.

She didn't know what to do with the things that reminded her of their time as a couple. Did she give him back the sweater that he'd wrapped around her shoulders at a particularly cold Quidditch practice? Did the frame holding the photo of them in Hogsmeade dancing inside The Three Broomsticks belong to him or her? Was she supposed to rip the pages that he had written notes to her out of the old Transfiguration book? How was she supposed to move on with things oozing of Harry all around her?

She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip him apart for making her feel this pathetic, and at the same time she wanted to grab him and kiss him all over again. Ginny couldn't make a move towards him but yet he was the only guy she'd ever felt that sort of desire for. That's really what she yearned and needed to do. She needed to show him desire. That true, burning passion that she felt for him was something she didn't believe other people could really understand. He made her feel like she was on fire.

Every time he ignored her, she broke. Every time he laughed as if they had not happened she could feel tears welling up. She didn't know what he was thinking but she was pretty sure she was nowhere near those thoughts. She just wanted to ask him to feel something, to ask that he felt as broken as she did.

Every day Harry Potter made Ginny Weasley feel completely dispensable. He was done with her and she was not done with him. He hadn't opened up enough to hurt though, at least she could hold on to that.