Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 20 – The Break

The fever returned just as Harry was helped out of the infirmary, and he felt Ez slip from his mind. The trembling became so bad at the castle gates that it took both Hermione and Charlie to hold Harry up. They Apparated back to just outside the Burrow, Harry by ride along on Charlie's sleeve, and Hermione carrying all of their bags. Harry managed to remain conscious until they reached the house.

The next couple of days were an endless blur of nightmares and pain. Harry knew Hermione was near; he'd hear her voice, or feel the calming touch of her hand on his face, on his arm, in his hand. "I just need Ginny," he told her. "I'll be all right once I have her back. Please, please, please get me back to Ginny."

When he finally was able to lie still, and his head began to clear, there was a soft, white light that streamed in through the curtains, and a heavy chill in the air. His throat was dry, his bladder full. He rolled to the side, and encountered Hermione's fluffy mop. She was sitting on the floor against his bed, hunched over her knees.

"You're awake?" she said, and a smile grew across her face as she twisted around to see him. "How do you feel?" She touched his forehead. "No fever."

"I need the loo."

"Oh, right." She helped him to his feet, but his legs weren't quite strong enough to hold him up and balance at the same time. She shoved her shoulder under his arm. "Charlie said you'll be weak for another day. How is your head? You kept complaining about your head, and we thought – well, I thought maybe it was Voldemort."

"I don't know. Maybe. I dreamed about him," Harry told her. "My head's good now."

"Well, that's a relief."

They navigated down the narrow stairs to the loo. Hermione helped him in, and then they both realized he wasn't going to be able to stand over the toilet on his own.

"I could get Charlie," she suggested.

"Look, I don't care if you don't."

"Oh. Well, I'm not bothered," she said a little too casually to be sincere. "I'll just hold you here, shall I?" She wrapped her arms around his middle, pressed her forehead into the back of his left shoulder. She had to hold him tight to support his weight, and unfortunately that meant her breasts pressed into his back. If Ginny were in his head at that moment, she would've hexed him.

"Er…maybe you should get Charlie, then?"

"What? Oh. Right. Charlie! Charlie!"

Footsteps came bounding up the stairs and a blur of ginger flashed past.

"Charlie! We're in the loo!" Hermione called.

Charlie stepped down the stairs at a calmer clip, and came to a stop with his arms crossed and a shoulder against the door jamb. "If only I had a camera," he said with a smirk.

"If only I had an extra hand to hex you," Hermione quipped. "He's just as weak as you said he would be."

"Yeah."

Charlie took over for Hermione, who shut the door on her way out. With one muscular arm bracing across Harry's chest, and the other holding Harry's back, relaxing enough to let a stream flow didn't seem possible. The memories Ez had shared were a little too vivid in Harry's head still, and Charlie's body was much too close for comfort. Harry wished he had Hermione back. It was one thing to be held by a lovely girl he didn't want to think about in that way, and something completely different to expose himself while be held by a bloke he had intimate knowledge of.

"You've got an owl from Ginny," Charlie offhandedly said. "Came this morning. We didn't open it. At least we know it's not a howler."

"You get anything from Ez?" Harry asked.

"I wasn't expecting anything."

There was an awkward moment of silence while Harry tried to relax.

"Mum's made you loads of food. You should eat if you can. It'll help. She doesn't know, by the way. Mum. About Ginny. Or why you're here."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. I reckon Mum will have enough to deal with when Mere arrives. Merlin, I hope no one gets hexed."

"If you're worried, then why bring Ez here at all? She doesn't seem keen on coming."

"Because I want…I want Mum to see Mere the way I see her."

Harry snorted. "I don't think that's very likely."

"Why? You like Mere, right? Once you got to know her, anyway. Mere's going to be the mother of her first grandchild. Mum has to accept that."

"How did that happen, anyway? Last I knew she wasn't very receptive."

"The night of the Autumnal Equinox Dance. She was receptive that night - I can assure you, she received the hell out of me." He sighed. "That one night's going to have to last me the rest of my life, I reckon."

Another uncomfortable lull, and Harry felt what little energy he had begin to dwindle.

"So…then, no other witches?" Harry asked.

"It hardly matters. It's never the same."

"You mean without the Bond?"

"I mean without the girl. The girl."

"How many girls have you been with, then?"

"Are you going to piss, or what?"

Dear Hermione and Harry,

Ginny is doing much better. She's sitting up in her bed staring at a piece of parchment I gave her. I don't think she's going to use it. Ez is off her rocker again. No surprises there. She's talking to herself in Romanian, or something. Charlie's name comes up a lot. We had a test in Transfiguration. Tonks said you two could take it when you get back. It wasn't too hard.

Love, Ron.

Harry pushed the letter aside. Two pieces of parchment had come with Errol, who was still waiting for Hermione to finish quilling her response. The other letter contained only two words: You lied. Harry had a pretty good idea of how well Ginny was coping.

"She's not going to want me to be here when she gets home," he said quietly. The beans on toast on his plate remained untouched.

"Where would you go?" Hermione asked. "Headquarters?"

"I reckon I could go back to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"Childish," Hermione sputtered. "Why don't you write and ask if she wants you to clear out. Maybe she wants you here."

"To yell at, maybe," he agreed.

"Yes, well, you know it's bound to happen sooner or later. The last thing she knew she was going to sleep, and then she wakes up sick, with no Bond and the wizard she loves gone. I can't really say I blame her."

Harry scowled.

"I mean, you did the right thing," Hermione added. "But still…"

Charlie picked up Ron's missive and read it for the third time, frowning.

"You know, you could write, too," Hermione told him crisply. "Ask him what he means by 'off her rocker.'"

"I know what he means," Charlie grumbled. His lunch remained mostly uneaten as well.

"Then why not owl her?" Hermione pressed. "You've been sour and surly since we left."

Charlie's brows lowered. He dropped the parchment and stabbed at a fried tomato. "I don't want your advice."

"Because I'm younger or because I'm a witch?"

"Because you're happy," Charlie snapped. "Because you've got your-" He broke off, shaking his head. "Bill is full of endless advice. Pointless advice. Bill assums, as do you, that I'm trying to win her love. Rubbish. I've got her love. She loves me more intensely, more passionately than you could possibly imagine."

"It's about trust," Hermione said. "Trust is harder to win than love."

Charlie slammed his hands down on the table hard enough to rattle the plates and make the pumpkin juice slosh. Then he stormed out the kitchen door and into the garden.

"That was a might insensitive," Harry said.

"Don't you start. What he did was reprehensible! If Ron ever-"

"Well, it wasn't Ron, was it? It was Charlie."

"You're taking his side?"

"Of course not. But I'm not condemning him, either. I've seen how he looks at her, Hermione. He loves her every bit as much as she loves him. And I know what it means to love someone and not be able to have them." Harry stared at the door while Hermione huffed over her plate.

"You're right. You're right, I should…I'll go talk to him."

"I'll go. Bloke to bloke, you know."

"Tell him I'm sorry."

Charlie made it to the far paddock before Harry found him, and then into the orchard before he caught up. The rain was little more than a drizzle, but the wind was brutally cold, and cut right through Harry's jumper. He wished he'd thought to put on a rain cloak. When at last he settled next to Charlie at the base of an apple tree, Charlie transfigured a leaf into a brolly that sheltered them both from the storm.

"It's none of your business," Charlie warned.

"I know," Harry said with a shrug. Charlie looked older than his years and, without a smile on his face, brutish.

"You've got Dumbledore's eyes again. What do you see when you look at me like that?"

"Just you."

Charlie shook his head, gazed out over the orchard. "It was three days!" he said. "Three bloody days to ruin a lifetime." He leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Of course she didn't want to be a mum! The only mum she'd ever known is a sadistic bitch, and her dad is a heartless bastard. She didn't want a family because she'd never really had one. She doesn't know what they're like, does she?

"And I thought - all right, I was stupid. I was a fool, and reckless. I thought, well, once she had one, she'd see. Once she held one in her arms, she'd want a whole house full of babies. I wanted a family with her, but more than that I wanted to get her out of Romania, out of the line of fire. She'd been running since she was fourteen, and I wanted to give her a home – a real home – and security and love. But she wouldn't marry me, wouldn't leave Romania, and I thought if somehow she got knocked-up, then maybe…"

"She'd flay you alive once she found out what you did? Because that would've been my first thought."

"Yeah, I know. I know! That's why I was only off the Potion for three days! Don't look at me like that. I did think about telling her, you know, afterward. I half-hoped that she'd Read it in my mind, but she wasn't looking for it, I reckon. And then two weeks later it was like it hadn't happened at all. I was back on the Potion and everything was normal. I actually forgot that I hadn't taken it. And when she got sick, she told me it was a virus, and not to worry. I believed her because a witch is supposed to know if she's preggers, isn't she? And then a month passed, and then two, and I thought, well, surly she'd know by then. I was disappointed, yes, but relieved, too, because she wouldn't find out what I'd done. I didn't think on it again. I kept taking the Potion.

"And then we were ambushed. Five of them came out of the dark one night when we were tailing a Death Eater in the middle of Nowhere, Transylvania. One of them hit her with a Pummel Hex. I couldn't believe it when she went down. Hell, I'd seen her take worse and not even break a sweat, but for some reason this spell, it hit her in just the right place. She started to bleed. I've never been so scared in all my life. I thought she was going to die. She almost died."

Charlie leaned forward, elbows on knees as if he'd been hit.

"It was a boy. I had a son, Harry, and besides Mere, you're the only one who knows he ever existed. And I'm the only one who mourned him. Mere went on and on about how I betrayed her trust, how I was some monster. But, never once did she talk about the baby. He was her son, too. I made a mistake, I knew it almost as soon as I'd done it, but no amount of apologizing can fix something that broken.

"And now she's pregnant again. Another baby. Another son. You'd think I'd learned that lesson," he said with a sardonic chuckle. It sent a shiver up Harry's back.

Charlie pulled a piece of brown grass and worried it between his finger and thumb.

"I miss her. And I don't just mean being inside her head, although I do miss that. And I miss making love to her, but that's not what I mean, either. She and I, when we were together, we were fantastic. She's funny. Her laughter fills me up. And she's clever. We're a good match dueling. There's no one I'd rather hit me with a Bee Hex, and no one I'd rather heal me up again, too. She cooks for me when she's happy – she knows this Cake Spell that will curl your toes. We talk about everything and nothing. She's my best friend. No one knows me the way she does. And when we fight, it's like…like…well, you've seen Ron and Hermione go at it. It's bloody sexy. Although, now when we fight it feels as if I'm navigating a minefield."

The rain drummed hard against the brolly, and Harry watched as it poured down over the edges. "You reckon the two of them are sitting in Hogwarts talking about us right now?" Harry asked.

"Cursing us, for certain. If you feel your arse burn, it's Mere."

Harry grinned. "I think I will write to Ginny. You should write to Ez."

"And say what?"

"I don't know. Tell her it's raining here. Did you try to knock her up this time, too?"

Charlie stared past the rain. "No. Only…I must've done, right? I know she doesn't take the Potion. She's allergic to one of the regents. And I know I'm not taking it - what would be the point? I tried to, well…. There was this bird that I met in a bar in back in Sibiu. I think she was a Muggle. Or a Squib, I don't know. She wasn't much of a looker, but that doesn't always matter much. And she wasn't one to really chat. She was fair at snogging, though. Better than fair. But when I took off her bra I lost it. Complete break down. Cried like a little girl right there on her bed. It all came crashing down on me at that moment, that Mere was gone and never coming back, and all I had to look forward to for the rest of my life was…I didn't even know her name. The Muggle. I was so disgusted with myself I never went back to Siniu. I'm pathetic."

"Hermione would think that's romantic. You stayed faithful to the girl you love."

"I think it's bloody pathetic. So, I'm never supposed to shag again? Because Mere won't have me, I'm supposed to be a monk or something? I'm sure she's shagged loads of blokes since she left Romania. She likes to shag. And, she's brilliant at it. Who wouldn't want to shag her?" He threw a handful of sod at the brolly. "Bill says I'm punishing myself. He says a lot of crap like that now that he's with Fleur. Do you like her?"

"Fleur?"

"This baby was an accident. It had to have been. Otherwise I am the monster she thinks I am. It was an accident. I wasn't thinking. The night of the dance I'd been without a witch's touch for almost two years. I wanted her so bloody much…when she kissed me, I was lost."

Dear Hermione and Harry,

We had a bit of a scare, but if you share this with Charlie I'm supposed to tell you that Ez is all right. Only she's not. She fainted dead way at supper, right in the Great Hall. Percy and I took her to the infirmary. Ginny won't talk about it. She cries a lot. She and Ez are spending far too much time together, if you ask me.

Love, Ron

"I hate this," Harry said, as he slouched on the couch, his ankles crossed on the coffee table in front of him. Hermione sat at the other end, likewise slumped, with a butter beer in hand, and her feet on Harry's lap.

It was late. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed hours before, and as the night wore on a chill settled over the house. The fire had burned down to embers, and as neither of them knew a Stoking Spell (and they were both too lazy to get up), Harry and Hermione shared a knitted blanket.

"It's weird being alone in my head again. I feel like half a person." Harry yawned. "I can't stop thinking about her."

"That's because you keep talking about her."

"I talk because I think."

"Not the other way around? You should put it in your letter. Did you finish with your letter, then?"

Harry looked down at the parchment propped on the lump of her feet. "I suppose. I can't really think of anything else to say."

"And still, you talk." She glanced skeptically at the letter. "You've poured out the whole of your heart into that one. A whole sentence, is it?"

"What? How much have you got?"

She held up her curling parchment. "At least a foot and a half."

Harry snorted. Ron would never get through it. "Is it a love letter, then? Give it here."

"Mind your own letter," she said with a smirk.

His own letter was a meager offering. The truth was that he didn't know what Ginny wanted to hear. Ron's letters were irritatingly uninformative.

"Have you given any more thought to what you're going to do when you see Ginny again?"

"You mean, am I going to plunge back into her mind? I've thought about it, yeah."

"And?"

"And what? I know it's a bad idea, and I still want it. I know I shouldn't do it, and still I want it."

"Charlie said that the first Break has the best chance of success."

"What does Charlie know?" Harry irritably asked. "And for your information, he wants back in Ez's head, too."

"Yes, well, he's not Harry Potter, is he? He doesn't have Voldemort in his future."

"Doesn't he?" Harry asked. "He's Secret Keeper for the Order, after all. He's nearly died once."

"Three times, actually. And yeah, all three times Mere and I were linked." Charlie limped down the stairs and dropped down on the chair next to the couch. He looked exhausted, and his eyes were suspiciously red, as if he'd been crying. Harry didn't want to think about it. "It makes dying a bum go when you know you're going to take the witch you love down with you."

"And still, you want back in her head," Harry argued.

"Yes, well." Charlie sighed. "I'd rather take the risk than lose her all together, I reckon." He pulled out a folded parchment so thick that Harry doubted Pig would be able to carry it. Hermione's eyes went wide; it put her own letter to shame.

Charlie looked at his letter, weighed it in his hand. "Did Mere sleep with Percy?"

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Er…"

"I thought so. Bugger!" He tossed the letter in the fireplace. It began to smoke on the embers. Then he stormed up the stairs again.

"Did you really have to tell him that?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry asked. "He slept with Tonks."

Hermione gasped. "No! She's with Lupin!"

"Now, yeah. And Percy's with Penny Clearwater. Or, I reckon her name's Penny Weasley now. Odd, that. And you'll be Hermione Weasley."

A slow smile spread across Hermione's face. "I…I hadn't heard it out loud before. Hermione Weasley. Sounds off."

"A bit," Harry agreed. "But once we get used to it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"And Ginny Potter?" Hermione asked.

His stomach clenched.

"He talked about it once, you know. Ron did. It was the closest he's come to telling me he loves me."

"He still hasn't told you?"

She shrugged. "He said we're going to get married one day, because that's what people do when they're in love. I suppose that close enough."

"If you say so."

"Ron said Lupin is gay. Is that true?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Seems so." Harry looked down at his parchment. And then at the flames in the fireplace that had found new life.