"I have to go, Ann. The Ministry sent for me personally. They need me." Harry raked both hands through his already-wild hair, pacing across the lounge with frustrated steps. I huddled on the sofa, hands clasped tightly together, twisting his ring on my finger. Hermione and Ron stood by silently; they would be leaving for London at the end of the week so that Ron could report to work, then Hermione would go on to Oxford. I felt a dull flare of anger that Ron would get to stay in England, would not have to go to find Voldemort, would not be leaving Hermione to be a hero.
"You don't have to go, Harry. Tell them you want to stay in England; you know they'd be overjoyed to have you on Home Defense." I could hear my own voice, edgy with panic and unshed tears. "I don't understand why you have to go overseas." My vision blurred and doubled.
He turned on me, suddenly angry. His voice cracked with fury, battering against my ears. "I don't have a choice! He's somewhere in the States where he thinks he's safe. We have to go after him, Ann. Or don't you care if he wins? Don't you care about anything else but yourself?" He trembled before me, his body taut with rage. I couldn't look at him, couldn't stop the tears from pouring down my face. Hermione stepped between us, glaring at him fiercely.
"Harry, stop it. You don't have to yell at Ann. None of us wants you to go. You don't have to take it out on her because she's honest enough to say she's scared." Hermione took me in her arms as I finally broke down sobbing. Ron laid a hand on Harry's arm, trying to calm him. Harry knelt on the carpet and pulled me away from Hermione into his arms. He stroked my hair as I clung to him and begged him not to go, even though I knew he would.
And she doesn't want to let go,
Cause she won't know what she's up against...
It's the end of summer, the end of summer,
When you hang your flowers up to dry
Ron and Hermione left first. We saw them off at the station; they took the Muggle trains to London to spend a few more days together. Ron would start training as an Auror almost immediately. Hermione would go to Oxford to start her studies; if the war continued until her graduation in two years, she would also join the Ministry. She hugged me tightly and we both cried, promising to visit soon. I hugged Ron and he chucked me under the chin. They boarded the train, leaving Harry and me on the platform, leaning on each other for support.
Harry put off leaving as long as he could. He followed the news, tense and harried; a flurry of owls flew from our house to various Ministry officers and Hogwarts. Dumbledore intervened to arrange a leave of absence from Oxford for Harry. He visited us several times that last month, mostly to discuss the war with Harry, but also to try to relieve my own crushing grief.
I tried several times to convince Harry not to go. Each time escalated into a vicious fight; we flayed each other with the skills born of longtime intimacy. I ridiculed his sense of nobility, his need to martyr himself, his disregard for his own happiness. He derided my fear, shredded my feelings and finally questioned my love for him. I pushed him away again and again, only to cling to him the very next moment.
He stayed through the early days of September, until my own classes started. He packed one afternoon while I was in the library, had everything sent ahead to his new home. He waited for me, to say goodbye. We walked through the city streets a last time. I hated every person we passed, blamed them all for taking Harry away from me, wished terrible things. I even hated the skies because they refused to rain for me.
We stood on the outcropping of rock on Arthur's Seat where we had kissed all through that summer. Harry folded me against his chest, holding me as close as he could. I could hear his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and strong. He pressed is lips to the top of my head, murmuring into my hair.
"Please don't think I don't love you, Ann. I do, and I'm just as scared as you are. I don't want to lose you over this. But I have a responsibility, a job to do now. I have to go."
I nodded even as I screamed inside. "I know," I choked out. "I know you have to go. I don't have to be happy though. Just promise me you'll write, or owl, or something. Send word through Dumbledore or Hermione." I wouldn't ask him to promise to come back. I couldn't hear him say no.
He nodded and gathered me to him again. Our lips met, a soft warm salty pressure, bitter and frightened. I turned my back when he stepped away from me and refused to watch as he Apparated away from me. I stood on the Seat for hours, watching the clouds pass and the sun set, the moon rise over the Firth and the stars come out like ice on silk. I followed the sunrise home, finally seeing the city through new eyes.
The summer ends and we wonder who we are...
And the same things looked different,
It's the end of summer, the end of summer
When you move to another place...