Chapter 3

12 Grimmauld Place, that is where Harry had fully intended on going, anything to keep away from the press, anything to keep away from people in general. It was at 12 Grimmauld Place where Harry felt closest to his beloved godfather Sirius and quite possibly he thought he might be able to find a comfort in that. Like all Harry's plans things were sent awry when Molly Weasley got wind of his intentions and within the hour Harry had been whisked away to the burrow.

It was not at all what Harry had intended on happening, but here he was sitting on the stone wall overlooking the large crop of land that the Weasley household inhabited. It was dusk and the sky was a beautiful pallet of pastels. There was a time when Harry would have given an arm and a leg to be at the burrow. Now, he prayed to be anywhere else.

Awkward didn't even begin to cover it. Uncomfortable didn't seem to fit and unbearable sounded overdramatic. Harry was sleeping (if you could call it that) in a room with his best friend Ron, with his girlfriend Ginny was down the hall with Ron's girlfriend and Harry's best friend Hermione, who Harry had been avoiding at all costs because he longed to be next to her constantly if that made any sense. Up a flight of stairs was George Weasley minus Fred the twin who had passed away, for which Harry was convinced he was held responsible. When in reality he was the only person on earth holding him to that standard. And downstairs were Molly and Arthur Weasley, the kind and loving parents who had treated Harry like a son regardless of the fact that Harry had basically killed their own boy.

The burrow was far from peaceful. Harry was unable to sleep and was constantly hearing everything that happened in the cramped household. He witnessed Ron's constant night terrors, Georges crying as he awoke for find Fred's bed empty, and Arthur pleading with Molly to sleep as she wailed at the loss of her baby boy. So I guess you could call the situation unbearable for Harry.

His mind was quiet for a few minutes as he watched the sun duck behind a few branches the orange rays setting a golden fog across the land. It would be a perfect day for flying Harry thought numbly, if he only had the urge to move.

Harry ears perked up as he heard laughter and he turned his gaze to the kitchen window. The sight before him was breathtaking as the image burned into his retinas. Hermione faced the window as numerous amounts of bubbles, clearly a silly charm, popped up around her from the sink. Her golden hair shimmered with the setting sun and her eyes were bright and alive. Behind her stood Ron a goofy smile plastered on his face as they tried to pop the bubbles together chuckling as one settled on the bridge of his nose. Hermione leaned forward and popped it with her own and the two of them laughed like school children. Once again Harry was eleven again on the outside looking in through his cupboard.

"Harry?" a small voice pulled him out of his deep trance.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry responded hopping off the stone wall.

"Come inside for dinner dear," she murmured turning on her heal, a once feisty, insistent woman she was now weak and looked very tired. It wasn't exactly a happy week. Fred's funeral was in a few days and it was taking a toll on the family and the burrow was eerily quiet.

To make the unbearable, awkward, uncomfortable circumstances even worse Harry got a front row seat straight across the table from his best friends, while Ginny was sandwiched next to him on the right, George on his left. How he longed for Uncle Vernon to banish him to the cupboard to eat his dinner.

"Did you know," said Ron breaking the silence at the table, "that a chicken lays an egg every day?"

Stunned, the clan of wizards and witches looked at Ron like he had two heads.

Ron smiled to himself and shoved some biscuit into his mouth and continued to talk his manners impeccable as always, "did you know that the largest chicken egg was 6.3 centimeters wide and 9.2 centimeters long and weighed 201 grams?"

Ginny chimed in, "Did Hagrid tell you that?" she smiled at her brother from across the table, "my first care of magical creatures class that's all we heard about."

"Was bloody ridiculous!" George piped up, grinning toothily. "If you ask me I'd say a wizard's bound to have made an egg bigger than that."

With that the conversation was off and it was like nothing had changed. It was almost as if they were back at Hogwarts debating ridiculous antics and disagreeing over ludicrous notions. For a split second it was as if Fred had never left.

Dinner ended in normal fashion and the banter continued on as they sat there arguing over who was going to do the dishes.

"Better not let these two lovebirds do it." George glanced at Ron with a devilish grin as his cheeks matched his hair. "Ronniekins and his girlfriend might take years if they get near those bubbles again."

Ron and Hermione locked eyes and giggled guiltily at one another and Harry felt his stomach start to churn.

"I'll do the dishes," Harry sighed out for the first time all evening. If he did them without magic it would take him about 30 minutes which would be a good excuse to avoid the group.

Nobody jumped up to disagree with him and so they retreated to their respective rooms as Harry started in on the mound of plates. After a few minutes of mindless scrubbing he felt eyes on the back of his head. He prayed it wasn't Ginny and refused to look up. Curiosity got the best of him and he slyly raised his eyes to the reflection in the window. It was Hermione and his heart beat began to pick up.

Hermione leaned in the doorway behind Harry her arms crossed over her chest as she observed Harry's tense posture. The way he moved, it was as if he was in pain. Like something invisible was holding him down. She wasn't stupid, she knew he knew she was behind him, he was still just as stubborn as the day she met him.

"Can I join you?" she asked as she watched him through the glass.

Harry shrugged and slumped as he focused way too hard on the pot that was already clean in front of him. Apparently he saw a mark that nobody else could see.

So the teenagers stood washing dishes by hand, both perfectly capable of completing the task with the swish of a wand, but content with their muggle ways. It seemed normal for once and sometimes normal wasn't so bad.

"Scrubbing that pot awfully hard," Hermione sarcastically observed as she couldn't stand to watch him pick at the spotless steal any longer.

"Huh?" his head shot up, dark thoughts had been consuming him and he hadn't even realized what he was doing.

Concerned Hermione set her plate down and turned to face Harry, "Have you slept at all?"

"Yes, Hermione," Harry responded automatically.

"Because I haven't," her tone changed, "it's all too real, my dreams that is. I'm scared to close my eyes."

Harry tensed his voice sounding practical. "Well they are only dreams and you should sleep."

"Coming from the boy who hasn't so much as blinked," she scoffed, "I'm not an idiot Harry."

"I didn't say you were!" Harry shot back defensively as he dropped the pot with a clatter and spun around to grab his jacket off the chair.

"Please Harry. Don't go."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and suddenly he was right back at Hogwarts standing on the steps as Hermione wrapped her arms around him as the pleading words 'I'll go with you' hung in the air. For there in this moment that same rawness filled his ears and her cracking voice pulled mercilessly at his heartstrings.

"I haven't slept at all," he muttered hoarsely, "not a minute."

Tentatively Hermione reached out and touched his shoulder as his breath became shallow.

"It's consuming me," he whispered so inaudibly that Hermione had to strain her ears to hear his words.

"What is?"

"Everything, all of it, I can't eat, I can't sleep, it makes me sick. Everybody is so supportive and gentle and I bloody hate it. I don't want sympathy. I don't want empathy. I don't deserve it, any of it. I want it all to stop."

"Harry-"

"I know that everybody cares and I know I'm being thick as hell, but I don't know how to act. I don't know how to hold Ginny's hand without picturing Fred cold and lifeless. I don't know how to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley without hearing her screams pierce my ears at night. I can't look at George and not see Fred and I can't even think of Ron or you without picturing everything that you both gave up for me. I can't. I won't" The tears had begun to fall before Harry could stop them and he fell limply to the ground sobs wracking his withering frame.

Hermione reached out as quickly as she could. She flung her arms out to catch him in a tight embrace and the two slid to the ground Harry shaking uncontrollably. His arms latched onto her torso as If she were going to disappear, his desperation breaking Hermione's heart. His head pressed against her chest and her arms wrapped possessively around his head, his messy hair tickling her chin. She buried he lips in his hair as she silently quieted his trembling body her own salty tears streaming.

"Shhhh, it's okay." She breathed into his hair softly. "It's okay."

After a few minutes Harry pulled backward and scooted back against the kitchen cabinets pulling his knees up to his chest wrapping his arms over his head as he muffled his cries in his knees as the sobs began again coming harder and faster than ever. He tried to grasp at anything to calm him, but couldn't seem to catch a breath and water stained his jeans and t-shirt.

Hermione knelt in front of him grabbing his fingers pulling his hands down off his sweaty neck. She tilted his head up and pulled his tear stained glasses from his nose. Harry shook tears meeting his nose, his neck as he avoided eye contact with the beautiful girl in front of him. She gripped his neck with her hands and Harrys blood shot eyes met hers glowing green meeting earthy brown. Tears continued to slide down both their faces as they locked in on one another.

"It. Is. Not. Your. Fault." Hermione said pleadingly. "It. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

Harry's breathing evened and his stare didn't leave hers. He had heard these words about a hundred times, but he had never believed them. He didn't believe them now, but something in Hermione's voice told him something. She would believe for him until he was able to believe for himself. That promise of unwavering support knelt in front of him once again and Harry did something that he had never done before. He grasped it.

t here...