A/N: Wow.  LoL.  Okay, I'm going to take a wild guess and say that the last chapter got everyone a tad riled up.  Um, well here's the next chapter, Chapter 20 (wow, this may get pretty long, folks).  Chapter 21 will be up by tomorrow, if I'm able to get home from school early.  And Chapter 22 may well be uploaded very soon after that. I'm going to try a rapid-fire these chapters at you, to get us through these tough times…

Just as I start changing into my pajamas to snuggle under the covers and read, my mom knocks on the door to take me out on a "traditional after-Christmas shopping spree."

"Didn't we just spend all our money on presents?  Aren't we broke yet?"

"Oh hush, I don't want you just lying here pining for your man." She winks.  "Come on, your father is waiting."

I was not pining.  I was merely thinking about him and missing him.  It's not the same. 

"Fine.  Give me five minutes."  I smile and push her out of the room.


*





The sound of her mother's hand on the doorknob brings us both crashing down to earth.

"Up," she pushes against me.

"What?"

"My mom!" she hisses, handing me my shirt while she struggles to do her own back up.

"What?" I'm disoriented and only now realizing the gravity of the situation I'm finding myself in.

"Shit!"  The word does not even come close to describe my feelings.  There is no word to damn me for what I've done.

"Hurry up!" she whispers urgently.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

She tucks her shirt in and glares at me, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

"Go in the bathroom," she tells me, shoving me towards the door.

"God, I'm such an ass..."

"Shut up, Harry. If my mother hears you swearing, she'll freak."

I want to tell Stephanie to which very hot place she could go.  Her mother is the least of my worries.

I hide in the bathroom, making sure I click the lock when I close the door behind me.

I can hear Stephanie and her mother in the other room.

"Harry's," Stephanie is saying. "He came in to get warm."

Yeah, but this wasn't what I had in mind.

"Cider," Stephanie says and then offers her mom some.

"I'm going to go up to bed," Mrs. Fortescue says and I groan at the thought of being alone with Stephanie again.

"Okay," she replies and I hear her mom trudging up the stairs.

After a moment, Stephanie knocks on the bathroom door.

"She's gone."

I can't stay in there forever, so I hesitantly open the door.

"Ummm, I should go."

She stands back and lets me get past her.

"It's not horrible, Harry," she says as I pull on my jacket and shove my feet into my shoes.

I stare at her.

"I have a girlfriend, Stephanie."

"That didn't seem to matter a few minutes ago," she says quietly.

"It shouldn't have happened."

"Nothing happened," she shrugs. "So we fooled around a little bit, so what?"

"It shouldn't have happened."

"You didn't sleep with me, so you're off the hook."

I don't say anything, I just zip up my jacket and leave.

. . . .





In the morning, I wake up feeling like I've been trampled by a hippogriff.

Hermione's voice only makes me feel worse.

I miss her but I can't talk to her. I'm afraid my voice will betray me.

I need time to figure out… something, so I make my excuses and put the miror away.

Mom is sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea when I enter the room.

"Morning," she smiles at me. "You were out late. Were you with Stephanie?"

I shake my head.

"No, I just needed some quiet."

I'm not going to tell my mother about this.  Never.

"Oh."

There is a lot more than "Oh" in that "Oh" and I sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what do you want to say, Mom?"

"Stephanie seems like a nice girl," she smiles. "I'm glad you're spending time with her."

"I think I'm going to go back home tonight" I blurt out.

She frowns. "I thought you weren't leaving until the weekend."

"I need to get back.  Um, Hermione will be going back soon.  She decided not to come here."

"She can survive without you for a few more days."

I glare at my mother.

"I can't survive without her."

She shakes her head at me, "You just did."




*







I don't get a chance to call him back for a couple of hours, because I was is a public muggle area, and they probably wouldn't appreciate me talking to a mirror. When I'm home, I try to see him, but he's not there.  I repeat his name five times before I give up.

I don't make anything of it – maybe he just left the mirror in his room or something.  I'm not a needy girlfriend, and I wouldn't bother calling back at all until the next day, except I'm still unclear on whether or not he wants to come here for a couple of days for New Years, and I'd like to know if my plans should involve him or not.

I had a civil conversation with Mrs. Weasley previously, and I've gotten over my fear of talking to her, so I do so now.

She greets me and I can tell she's really surprised to hear from me.

"Hi, is Harry there?" I ask her.

"No, no, he went out with Ron and Ginny somewhere."

"Oh."

"Everybody wanted him to take something back to your house and he doesn't have enough room in the trunk he brought along."

"He's packing already?"

"Yes, I thought you were meeting him today?"

"Pardon?" In reality, 'huh??' was on the tip of my tongue, but I want to be proper.

"You're not going back to London?"

"No...." Where is she getting this from?

"Oh, that's strange.  He's leaving tonight."

"To London?"

"Yes.  And he said he would be meeting you back there."

I really, really want to say 'huh' right now, but I refrain once more.

"I'm not really sure what's going on, I haven't had a chance to talk to him that much the last few days."

"I'm sorry," she says. "I assumed you two had something planned."

"I was actually calling to see if he was still thinking about coming here to my parents house for a couple of days."

"I don't know what to tell you, I see we're both out of the loop here."

"Right."

"He just came downstairs this morning, said he needed to get back to you."

"Well, that doesn't make a lot of sense considering I'm not going anywhere for a few more days."

She's quiet for a moment, like she's trying to put two and two together. For some reason, and I don't know why and I can't explain it, but I think a little lightbulb might have turned on in her head, and I'm certain she's got much more of an idea about what's going on than I do.

"I will definitely tell him to call you, if in fact he deems it necessary to tell me anything that goes on in that head of his."

"Okay, thank you. I appreciate that."

"It's no problem." For a split second, I feel as if she's in my corner. "Hermione, if I don't get a chance to speak to you in the meantime, I want to wish you a happy new year. I have a feeling you'll have a wonderful year and you certainly deserve it."

Wow, okay. "Thank you."

"And I apologize for how things have been lately."

"You don't need to..."

"No, I do."

The thing about this conversation is that it's getting progressively stranger. I honestly believe that the rest of the world is in on some secret I'm not, I believe she knows why Harry's acting weird, I believe she won't tell me and I believe she's suddenly plagued by some sort of guilt which is why she's talking to me like nothing bad ever happened, and apologizing along the way.

I'm also more and more uncomfortable, because the greatest fear is that of the unknown and right now that's where I am. In that vein, I wrap up the conversation, go to my room and then stand there, staring out the window, trying to make sense of it all, and failing miserably where it counts.




*







I'm already packed; I don't want to waste time on small talk and awkwardness. I just want to throw the rest of what's left in the bag and get home. I know it's irrational, but I keep thinking that once I get home, I'm really gone from this place and maybe I can forget about what happened here.

Except I can't.

I know that I'm avoiding Stephanie and I'm probably even avoiding my mom, because she knows me better than anyone and I'm positive that she has figured out that something is going on, even if she doesn't know what.

Most of all, I'm avoiding Hermione.  I never used to feel this.  Before Hermione, Stephanie would have been right.  We didn't have sex, so I was off the hook.  But with Hermione everything is different.

My mirror has been stuffed in the bottom of my trunk the whole day, but I know that she's called. So when Ginny, Ron and I get back to the house and Mom tells me that Hermione spoke to her, I'm not really surprised.

"I thought you were going back to be with her," Mom says. Ginny and Ron look from Mom to me and back, clearly lost.

I shrug. "She wanted to spend some more time with her family."

She frowns. "Are you two alright?"

"Wouldn't you be happier if we weren't?" I mumble.

Ginny shoots me a look.

Mom glances over at her. "Ginny, would you mind starting dinner? I need to talk to Harry.  Ron, go round up your brothers."

"Sure," they shrug, happy to get out of the line of fire.  Ginny touches my arm before she leaves. 

"Harry, make sure you come say goodbye."

"Sure."

They leaves us there and Mom motions toward the living room.

"What?"

"Come talk to me."

"I'm talking to you here."

"Harry."

"Fine," I sigh and follow her into the other room.

"Do you want to tell me why you're avoiding Hermione?"

"I'm not avoiding her," I lie.

"Then why haven't you told her that you're going back to London? From what I understand, she expected that you were going to be joining her at her parents house."

"Maybe I'm as welcome there as she would have been here," I say sarcastically.

"That's not fair, Harry. Besides, it's you she wants to see. And I'd think you'd want to see her. Unless something has changed."

She's watching me carefully, and I can't help but squirm.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"Nothing." Now I'm avoiding her eyes.

"I haven't seen much of Stephanie in the last few days," she muses.

"Maybe she's been busy" I shrug.

"She should come by and say goodbye," she decides and starts to get up.

"No! Mom!"

"Tell me. Now."

I sigh, "There's nothing to tell."

"Will Stephanie say the same thing?"

Honestly, I don't know what Stephanie will say. I'm not willing to risk finding out.

"We kissed," I mumble.

She arches an eyebrow. I can see her out of the corner of my eye.

"So? What's a kiss? Why are you so upset? Why are you running away?"

I look at the floor.

"Was there more?" There's a note of dread in her voice and I know that as much as she wants to know the answer, she really doesn't either.


"A bit."

"A bit?"

"Yeah."

It's all I'm willing to say.

My mother comes to her own conclusions.

"You slept with her?" she hisses, glancing around the room to make sure no one is standing in the doorway, getting filled in.

"No!"

"But you…" she hesitates, loathe to describe us in any compromising situation. She lowers her voice. "You made out with her?"

There are a million things I wish I'd never heard uttered from her lips. This is number one with a bullet.

I'm sure I'm scarlet and to be honest, the room is taking on strange qualities. Like spinning when I know I'm sitting perfectly still.

"Oh, Harry." There is definitely disappointment there, stronger than I've ever heard it before in my life. Maybe because I'm filtering it through my own brain which is heaped in layers and layers of disappointment – not to mention guilt – of it's own.

"What were you thinking?" she asks after a moment.

I stare at her.

"What was I thinking? What. Was. I. THINKING?!" My voice is definitely not in the same range as hers anymore.

"Shhh, Harry!"

"Mom," I turn to her with barely suppressed rage. "Didn't you encourage me to spend time with Stephanie?"

"So this is my fault?" she shoots back.

"You certainly don't want me with Hermione!"

"No. I thought," she begins, trying to keep her voice calm and even. "I thought you should think about a …nice… girl."


"Like Stephanie?"

She looks away.

"I didn't do this on my own." I whisper.


"I know that."

"Just like you know that I was a willing participant with Hermione?"

She swallows.

"Stephanie is more what people would expect, Harry. I thought…"

I get to my feet.

"You were wrong."

She follows me out into the hall.

"Ginny!" I call, because I promised. "Ginny!  RON!"

She pops her head around the corner.  Ron barrels in clumsily.

"I'm going."

Again, Ginny and Ron look at each of us in turn, and back again.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asks hesitantly.

"No, I'm beyond reprehensible," I tell her. "So, that's actually good news for you and Ron and everyone else. There's nothing any of you can do that will match how much I've screwed up and how much I've embarrassed your mother."

Ginny bites her lip.  Ron still looks puzzled.  But that's fine for now, I could do without the rapid fire upper-cuts at the moment.


"Harry …" Mom says, reaching for my arm. "Don't leave like this."

"No," I shake her off my arm. "I need to go. I need to be alone. I need to think."

Suddenly there is a loud bang from the upstairs.

"Ron, please tell the twins to stop whatever they are destroying?" mom orders tiredly.  Ron nods and grabs my shoulder.  "See ya, mate."

As soon as he is gone, my mother starts again.  "What are you going to do about Hermione? About … about…"

"Stephanie?"

Ginny's eyes widen, but she doesn't say a word.  She's figured it out. 


"There's nothing to do," I say. "I love Hermione."

And you have a funny way of showing it, A voice inside my head says. I pick up my bags and stand in the doorway.  Ginny continues to stare.

"Ginny, can you please not tell Ron yet?"

Her mouth simply opens and closes like a fish. 

Mom sighs and looks genuinely worried.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Harry" she says as I turn to leave. 

I have the sinking feeling it may be too late for that.




*







He doesn't call me back later.


My main concern is that the two of them have had some kind of falling out. I can't think of another reason he'd be high tailing it out of her house, although the last few days there, he sounded settled, and even happy.

Maybe all hell broke loose or she said something that he took completely the wrong way or he was just tired of answering a million questions, playing the role of a big fish in a tiny pond.

The only thing that doesn't make sense is why she would pretend to not know what's going on. I can understand her assuming he'd want to see me, but I don't understand why she'd pretend to be so shocked at his sudden departure. Not only do I doubt she's that good of an actress, I also don't happen to think she's a liar.

I try a couple of times on his mirror, then I check our fireplace in London.  Nothing yet.

I tell my mom about all of this, and she's thinking along the same lines as I am - something must have happened.

"He'll call you." She assures me. "But he's a man, he's got to blow off some steam apparently."

I smiled at her, but continued to worry about him, even as I went to bed a fell asleep.

In the morning, I discover that my mom had seen my mirror and had talked to Harry. 

"He said he was home, he had a crappy Christmas, and he didn't feel like complaining over this mirror and he didn't want to wake you.  He told me he loves you and he wants you to see him as soon as you wake up."  She handed the mirror to me.  I was surprised my mother hadn't freaked out and smashed the mirror when Harry appeared in it.  She's still not used to magic things.

I want to call, but he said himself that he didn't want to talk over the mirror.  I had to go home.

I run down the hall to find my mom and tell her I'm going.

"I'm sorry, you know I intended to stay."

"I know." She smiles sadly.

"I'm going to come out here again soon, even if it's just for a weekend. I miss you."

"I miss you too, and yes, you better come back soon!" She hugs me and cries on my shoulder for a minute, then furiously wipes away the tears, hoping I wouldn't see them.

"It's okay, mom, me too."

"Tell him that I said hello and that I expect to see his face around here at some point."

"I will."

My dad thumps down, angry at first that I'm leaving, but he's a big softie inside and he hugs me so hard I'm afraid he'll never let go.  But he does, and I promise him that I will write every day.


They help me throw my things together.

"Thanks, guys."

"We'll miss you."

"Me too."

"Okay. Just go and be happy. And call to tell me you're happy."

"I will."

Then she cries again, and the next thing I know, I'm standing on Harry and I's front porch.