Author's Notes: Good news, readers—got a lot more writing down this week than expected. As a result, you've got another two chapters coming your way.

Kronus96: Yes, Harry does need help, I just don't think it's so much as needing therapy as much as needing stability in his life. And he's going to get it. I think most of Harry's emotional instability comes from the fact that he's not been brought up in an environment where love is abundant. Add to that survivors guilt and I think most of Harry's emotional roller coaster is pretty straight forward and expected. At least that's how I view it.

Anyway, lots of emotion in these next two chapters. I really do hope you enjoy.

As always, thank you to everyone who reviews and reads; you are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other property as owned by JK Rowling, whom I and countless adults and children owe the love of reading and writing. This story is for my own enjoyment.

Chapter Seven: Torn Asunder

It had taken several days for the inhabitants of the Burrow to get past the shock of losing Mad-Eye. Mrs. Weasley had pulled out all her motherly intuition to keep the trio separate while they prepared the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Ron had convinced Harry to wait until after the wedding as it was only one day after he turned seventeen. Ron had also warned Harry to be on guard with Mrs. Weasley as she would likely try to corner him and ask what they were planning to do.

"She's already tried to get me and Hermione to spill the beans," said Ron on the day before the wedding. "Dad and Lupin also tried, but they dropped it once we told them Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone except us." Indeed they had all just gathered around the table for breakfast when Mrs. Weasley pounced.

"Harry, dear," she said with her sweet motherly voice, "Ron and Hermione told me this silly tale that I hope you can enlighten me on. They say you three are dropping out of Hogwarts."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, we are." Harry thought it best to get straight to the point. He looked quickly to Ron and Hermione on either side of him, then to Ginny, and finally to Bill and Mr. Weasley.

"And why would you walk away from your education?"

"Dumbledore left me a job to do," said Harry. "Ron and Hermione know about it and they've agreed to come with me. It's their choice of course," he added looking to each of his best friends in turn, "but they don't have to come. But I am leaving."

"I don't see that you've got to go either," she snapped. Mr. Weasely attempted to calm her but she rounded on her husband with such an intensive glare he immediately fell silent. "I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I'm sure Hermione's parents would agree." Mrs. Weasley was now breathing heavily. "You're all barely of age and it's complete nonsense—if Dumbledore needed work done, he would have had the Order do it. Harry, you must have misunderstood him. You probably heard him needing something done and you took it to mean that he wanted—"

"I didn't misunderstand, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry raising his voice but not so much as to shout. He quickly racked his brain for a way to help them understand without putting them in any more danger. "Dumbledore and I were away from Hogwarts the night he died—what we were doing was very important—it has to be me. If it was something the Order could do, he'd have brought them and not me."

"But why does it have to be you, Harry," asked Mrs. Weasley. Her tone had lost its harshness and was now filled with concern. "Why would Dumbledore give what is clearly a dangerous task to you three?" He could feel all their eyes staring at him. It was then that it dawned to him; they were aware of the prophecy that had been held in the Department of Mysteries. Harry could tell them without having to give away any of the details.

"The night Sirius died Dumbledore and I had a long chat in his office," said Harry. He could feel the dampness in his eyes as he shamefully remembered all he'd done to destroy the Headmaster's possessions. He quickly wiped his eyes.

"Harry, remember what Dumbledore told you," said Hermione as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Ron did the same on his other side. Harry shook his head.

"Don't worry, Hermione," said Harry, "I know what I'm doing." Harry swallowed hard and continued. "You already know of course, that there was a prophecy that Voldemort wanted," said Harry ignoring the collective shiver of everyone present, "and that he lured me there in order to get it. You probably know also that only the people who can touch them are those whom the prophecy was about. That prophecy that was smashed was only a record; I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office when he brought me back from the Ministry."

"I can't tell you what it said. I trust Ron and Hermione with my life, and even they haven't heard the exact words because it could be the difference between me living and dying. That prophecy is the whole reason my parents went into hiding and ultimately why they died. Dumbledore's gone, so I'm the only one who knows what it said, and it has to stay that way. It has nothing to do with trust—if Voldemort were to get a hold of any of you, he could get that information from you. What I've told you is no more than he could have read in the Prophet for himself." Harry watched as comprehension made its way around the table slowly. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny both had gone pale, Mr. Weasley sat with his mouth slightly open, and Bill stared at his breakfast. Having lost his appetite, Harry excused himself from the table and went outside. Ginny followed closely behind.

"Harry, wait," called Ginny. Harry waited by the garden. Once Ginny had caught up with him she made to embrace him but Harry held his arms up.

"Ginny, we've been through this."

"I'm your girlfriend, Harry," yelled Ginny. "Why didn't you tell me? Why is it that Ron and Hermione know everything yet I hardly know anything?" He saw from the corner of his eye that Ginny's yelling had attracted an audience as both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley watched from the kitchen window while Ron and Hermione gathered at the door.

"I was there too," she continued, "at the Department of Mysteries. I was part of Dumbledore's Army and I helped Ron and Hermione the night Dumbledore died. In case you haven't noticed, Potter, I can take care of myself!"

"This isn't a game, Ginny," yelled Harry. Harry wasn't sure what made Ginny shrink back. Perhaps it was his raised voice, or his furious gaze or his clenched fist or a combination of all three. Whatever the reason, Harry was quite sure she'd never seen him this upset and angry. "This isn't like those other times, like at the Ministry—we won't have any bargaining chips—no backup—what I'm going to do hurt Dumbledore terribly and almost cost him his life—mine too. You are not going. I know it hurts, but we're not together anymore. You need to accept that."

"You said we couldn't be together because he'd use me against you," scowled Ginny. "You didn't say it was over."

"I'm sorry, Ginny," said Harry. "I meant what I said. Being with you those last few weeks at Hogwarts was like a dream. I felt normal for once in my life."

"Then why are you pushing me away? After all that waiting, waiting to see if the great Harry Potter would ever notice me—finally it happens—and now he's off on some noble quest to prove himself because he has a people-saving-thing. It isn't fair, Harry."

"You think I don't know what it's like, having an unfair life, Ginny? Let me explain something to you; my parents died before I knew them and the only memories I have of them is my mother's screams when a Dementor gets near me and seeing brief shadows of their likeness when I was inches from death in a graveyard. I spent eleven years living with people who hated my very existence; my bedroom was a broom closet beneath the stairs. I was abused, physically and verbally. I was beaten regularly by my cousin and his gang. I had no friends. No family. I've been nearly killed every year I've been at Hogwarts. Life isn't fair, Ginny."

"I, I never knew any of that, Harry," said Ginny. Tears were building in her eyes.

"Don't you see it, Ginny," asked Harry, lowering his voice. "You're in love with the Boy-Who-Lived, not me." Ginny was openly crying now. He felt awful, and sickened that he had brought her to tears in this way. He put his arms around her and spoke softly.

"You'll always be my friend, Ginny, and you'll always have a special place. I don't expect you to forgive me. But I'd rather you were safe and hate me then dead because of me. I don't get the pleasure of having a normal life. If I don't go, no one else gets a chance either."

"S-so you r-really are g-going after him, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ginny. I am."

"B-but it's okay for R-Ron and Hermione to g-go with you?

"No, Ginny, it's not." She looked up at him.

"Then why aren't you s-stopping them t-too?"

"I've tried for the last six years, Ginny."

() () ()

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come into the garden once they saw it was safe to intercede. Mrs. Weasley took Ginny inside, her arms wrapped tightly around her daughter. Mr. Weasley exchanged a few short words of comfort to Harry as they walked toward his muggle shed. Once inside Harry had tried to apologize to Mr. Weasley but his attempt was quickly waved away.

"You don't need to explain to me, Harry. Ginny needed to hear you say those things. She needs to know it's not like being at school. She doesn't know it yet, but she'll be thankful one day for your honesty." He then left Harry alone in the shed.

After some time had passed, Harry dragged himself from the shed and made his way back to the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was standing in the garden watching the Gnomes. Deciding he didn't want to chance an encounter with Mrs. Weasley or Ginny in the kitchen, he elected to go around the house and come in through the back door. As he made his way around the house, two voices caught caused him to halt in his tracks. It was Ron and Hermione.

"Did you see the way he yelled at Ginny," said Ron.

"He wasn't yelling at Ginny, Ron," said Hermione. "And in case you didn't see, she was the one who started in on him."

"She was right, though, wasn't she? How was she supposed to know any of that?"

"Ronald Weasley, you know very well why Harry didn't tell her anything."

"You're taking his side?"

"I won't dignify that with a response, Ronald."

"Doesn't it bother you, Hermione? He didn't share the prophecy with us. What else hasn't he told us about the Horcruxes?"

"Harry said it plainly at breakfast. That information could be taken from us. What if we get captured and Voldemort reads our minds, or worse, tortures us to giving it up? And you know Harry has told us everything about the Horcruxes."

"What about the night Dumbledore died? He never told us what happened. Just like he never told us what happened the night You-Know-Who came back."

"Would you want to talk about it, Ron?"

"But we're supposed to be his friends, Hermione; friends don't keep secrets."

"What are you trying to say, Ron? Are we supposed to just leave Harry to himself while he hunts for those horrible objects?"

"You heard him—he wants to leave us behind. Hermione, I've been thinking; we should go back to Hogwarts. We can help Harry when he needs it, but this way we'll be able to continue our education and won't fall behind."

"Is this your idea, or is it your mother talking? We promised Harry we'd go with him. Besides, how are we going to get in and out of the castle? How are we going to know when Harry needs us? You'd have Harry going from place to place exposed while we're nice and cozy in the Gryffindor common room?"

"He's got an Invisibility Cloak, he won't be exposed—"

"Ronald!"

"What about us, Hermione?"

"What about us, Ron?

"We can spend time together, if we go back to Hogwarts. I just thought, maybe you'd like that too."

"We're in the middle of a war, Ronald Weasley, and all you can think about is having some alone time with me while your best friend gets himself killed trying to finish off the wizard who will stop at nothing to kill him. Don't you care, Ron? Harry is the only one that can beat him and you're worried about having the chance to snog me. You're unbelievable."

Harry had heard enough. Quietly he retreated back to the front of the Burrow and snuck in past the kitchen. He tiptoed up the stairs into Ron's room and shut the door. As he lay on the bed he could not shake the overwhelming truth that assaulted his mind.

He was keeping his friends apart.

() () ()

"In case you'd forgotten, Ron, we are not dating."

"But you've known for ages I've fancied you," said Ron.

"Oh is that so," said Hermione clenching her fists. "I wonder; did you fancy me while you were snogging Lavender Brown's tonsils this year?"

"It's not my fault she came and kissed me that night and you didn't."

"Well maybe if you'd plucked up the courage to ask me properly we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"Bloody hell," said Ron, "C'mon Hermione, don't tell me you don't feel it too."

"Yes, Ron, I did fancy you, but that was before I remembered you're a selfish prat. Our friend is suffering and he needs help and all you can think about is yourself."

"He'll be fine, Hermione, he just needs some time," said Ron dismissively. "He was like this fifth year too, if you'd forgotten."

"You mean when Dumbledore left him completely alone after he'd just watched Cedric die and couldn't do anything about it? The same year that Voldemort invaded his mind and made him see those terrible images of Sirius being tortured? The same year the Ministry was slandering his name and his character? The same year he found out the weight of world was on his shoulders? I'd like to see how you'd cope!"

"So about us—" Ron began as though he hadn't heard Hermione.

"There won't be any us if you don't choose your next words carefully, Ronald."

"So you're still going, then?"

"Yes, Ron. I am. And just in case you'd forgotten; you were just like this from when we first met. It seems you haven't changed one bit."

() () ()

Mr. Weasley shook his head. He'd been standing at the back door throughout the whole ordeal. Between breakfast and now having heard two rows between his two youngest children and two young adults he considered his own had told him all he needed to know. He'd rarely felt so many emotions tugging at him all at once. He was ashamed and angry with Ron, sad for Ginny, and proud of Hermione. Most of all, he was fearful for Harry. There was admiration too, but mostly fear. He fully understood what Harry was trying to say at breakfast. Knowing just what burden Harry had upon his shoulders, he wasn't sure if he had the resolve to let him go, even though he had too.