Boys Don't Cry

Chapter Four.

The house was still and quiet. Dinners were awkward and forced. The laughs were hearty for a second but then faded away into a weak smile. Things had changed.

Harry didn't talk much. He didn't come to lunch or dinner, or both, at times. He always seemed weary or in a misty daze when he came down every once in a while. He barely came out to fly. People tried to talk to him, Mrs. Weasley trying to find out what exactly was wrong, but he just smiled weakly and walked away without another word. That was how it was.

It was miserable. The Hero was always cooped up in his room, and no one ever asked exactly what he did, but every time they passed by, it was quiet. There was no noise. Little peeks of light had never bled from the edge below of his door. Somehow, slowly, they had become unfamiliar to the once happy and smiling boy. Some way they suddenly lost contact, and they hadn't a clue as to how or why.

Remus was worried. He had asked Molly and the others if they heard anything, or had he spoken to any of them. But no one had the answer he was looking for. Molly asked him if he knew what had happened, but he just shook his head and smiled tiredly. He knew that it wasn't in his place to say just what had happened between the two. But somehow, they all already knew that something had occurred between Harry and Hermione.

One day, Remus walked quietly over to Harry's room. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again. He listened hard for a sound: trudging footsteps, rustling of sheet covers... Nothing. Finally, he twisted the knob and the door slowly opened, much to his surprise. He walked in, silently closing the door behind him.

The room was still, undisturbed and gloomy. The atmosphere seemed dark, bitter and tinted with shadows that were looming out of their corners. He saw a lone figure lying on the bed. He walked over to Harry, standing in front of his bed.

His hair was unruly and untamed even more than before, his face so pale as if cruelly inhuman. There were bags under his eyes; it was clear to him that all this time he spent in here he hadn't spent sleeping. It seemed as if he had never gotten any sleep at all.

"Harry?" he said quietly. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes and saw Remus. His once bright green eyes were dark and tired, as if worn out. He looked at Remus with an expression that was unreadable but cold and dim. The shadow hid half of his face, making him seem unfamiliar and unrecognizable.

"Remus," he said quietly.

Remus nodded at him, smiling faintly, before sitting down at the edge of his bed.

"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked.

"I'm great, Remus," he said in a hoarse voice.

He shook his head. "You're not well. What's going on? You don't come down for meals, you don't come out of this room... What's happened, Harry? The members are worried sick about you."

Harry stared up at the ceiling. "Well, I'm fine. Please tell them that. There's nothing worse than futile worrying."

"Why are you like this? Is it only because some girl broke your heart?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Remus," he said, wearily. "Don't start about this."

"No, Harry, listen to me," Remus said firmly. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't. I'm begging you not to. Not over some girl. There are so many other--"

"Remus," Harry snapped. "I don't want to hear it." Remus became silent. "Do you know how many times a day I hear that? Every single moment I'm having some kind of argument or debate with my bloody conscience, saying that she's not worth this and I should just move on. And I should, I know that. I shouldn't care that she doesn't want to be with me." He sighed, raising his hand and running it through his hair. "But I can't move on, Remus. Not yet. You just don't see it," he whispered. "You just don't feel it."

"Harry, heartbreak isn't anything alien or new. It's been here since the world was created. Mankind cannot escape it, and neither can wizards and witches. They have tried making potions, spells... We can't escape it. No one can."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not just that." There was silence, as Harry closed his eyes again. Remus watched him, intently.

"Do you know why I can't come out of this room?" he whispered. "Because I can't bear to face her. I can't bear to see her face, to just...be in the same room she is. I can't. It's not because I hate her, or I'm angry...it's just that it hurts. It hurts so bloody much that I just have to walk out and leave. And I just don't want to feel that all over again. I just don't."

"You're not the only one hurting, Harry," Remus said quietly. "I see her. She isn't any better as you. Mostly she doesn't come out of her room, only at meals. But she stays quiet, and when I say that you're not coming down... She really does love you, Harry. I think she's starting to realize that it was a mistake."

Harry's eyes remained closed.

"The day it happened, when we were at lunch," he said, "and she excused herself from the table early," he paused, as if trying to collect his words. "When I walked by her room... I heard her. She was crying. And I can't help but wonder that, when everyone's down there, eating and talking...if she still cries. I can't hear it from all the way over here, but sometimes I want to just walk over there and listen, just like last time. I know she's hurt about it, and it hurts for me to know that I was the one to cause her that pain... But it feels as if she doesn't really believe that I love her. And I can't help but wonder why."

"Why do you say that, Harry?"

"I just... Sometimes I wonder about her. And I don't think that she knows how much she means to me at all. I don't think she believes that I really do love her as much as I do. It makes sense," he whispered. "More sense than everything else does right at this moment."

Remus let out a silent sigh, slouching his shoulders.

"You know she's locked herself out of contact with everyone," he said calmly. "Just like you." Inside Harry's eyelids the darkness played, swirling with neon colors, fading into slivers of trinket silver that slithered than disappeared. He could feel the darkness's accompanying cold press against his skin, surrounding him and embracing. He had felt this, a few times before. It was what silence did to him.

"I miss her," Harry whispered.

"Maybe...you could try talking to her, Harry. She can't avoid you forever. When you arrive back at Hogwarts... Just try talking to her. She's a smart girl."

"Hogwarts." Harry opened his eyes. "When do we go back?"

"Three days from today," Remus said. "Noon is when you'll be leaving. Dumbledore has some kind of ball and feast planned," Remus smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling faintly. "He's as happy as can be, you know, Harry. It's the first time I've ever seen him like this. I don't think he can be any prouder of you."

Harry sighed, turning away to lie on his side.

"Funny," he said quietly.

"Harry, don't do this to yourself," Remus said sharply.

"Harry, it's not your fault. Please understand that. I know you're smarter than this, I really do. You can't just keep lying there, wondering and piling all the bloody blame on yourself," Remus said, frustrated. "Stop being so weak, Harry. You're a hero. You saved millions of lives, doing what you did. No one could face him as bravely as you did, no one could have the nerve and spirit to defeat him. Have you seen the papers? Although they're damn annoying at times, when they caught word that you defeated him... Harry, everyone's absolutely delighted. They're praising you, so grateful to the Boy-Who-Lived. Be happy. For them, for yourself. Please."

Harry stayed silent, the coldness of the room invading him. He could hear rain begin outside, tapping on his window, reminding of the night he had defeated Voldemort. The cold, icy rain. The bitter, biting cold. The thick darkness that enveloped the world, the moon that hung expectedly in the midnight sky. He heard Remus let out a deep sigh.

"Harry, you have to know this. There are some people we have to learn to live without. Sometimes... they are the people who we think we need the most. But over time, we learn to move on, and what was once hard to do before becomes easy. You think that you can't bear to live without her now, but just keep in mind that things change. People change. Even heroes."

"How do you know?" Harry asked. "How can you know that it becomes easy?"

"No one can tell you this without experience, Harry. If they do, then it means nothing; they don't understand it themselves. But I know because I've gone through it. I've lost people I thought I could never live without. But I'm still here. I'm still living." He paused, before he continued again, "your parents, Sirius. They meant a lot to me. Too much. And... it was hard, at first. I know that feeling, when you just want to throw up your hands and say that you give up. I know how it hurts, seeing things that remind you of them, and the fact that they're gone. It's hard. And it does hurts like hell."

Harry remained silent, taking in the things Remus said. It was true, but he still had a feeling that Remus still did not quite understand. He knew that pain and loss could ease...over time.

But how was this going to turn out? He had something that never failed to remind him of his pain; her. She was still here. He would see her, her avoided and nervous gaze always averting from him. He would always managed to see her turning and walking away, even in his dreams. In a way, he felt abandoned.

Just like she did.Giving one last glance at the heartbroken, young Hero, he stood up silently. Harry noticed, as he had heard the rustle of the sheets responding from the shifting and absence of the added weight. However, he did not open his eyes.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry," Remus reminded him. With a sigh, he turned and walked towards the door. He turned the knob; the handle feeling cold pressed against his skin, and walked out as he shut the door quietly behind him.

Harry sighed, as soon as he heard the soft click of the door shutting. He let his hands relax, slowly letting go of the handfuls of sheets he had been holding tightly. He opened his eyes, staring at the moonbeam that lay across the edge of his bed.

Feeling his tiredness get to him, he turned, so that his back was flat against the cold sheets, and closed his eyes.

oooo

Harry hadn't awoken in time for breakfast, but he did make it to lunch. He had taken a shower and put on fresh clothes before going down to the dining room. They had looked at him surprise, but it soon faded into a smile, he noticed. He tried his best to smile back at them, but he knew that it looked just about as lame as it felt. Remus had put his hand on his shoulder, squeezed reassuringly, then sat down beside him. Harry listened along to the quiet chatter, talking about their children and some occurrences that had happened quite a while ago. He ate weakly, eating about only half of the food on his plate.

Just then, he heard footsteps and he raised his eyes to see Hermione come in. With Matthew beside her. He met Harry's eyes before heading over to the table to sit down and eat. Hermione's gaze finally landed on Harry's, as their eyes locked each other for a mere second. Her dark brown eyes were darker now, more unreadable than before. Her face was pale, her brown waves messy. She looked surprised to see him, but turned away before he could search any more. Hermione sat down next to Molly, who happily greeted her with a wide smile. Hermione smiled back at her faintly, before casting her gaze down and picking up her fork.

Harry looked away, feeling that same swelling sensation inside him. Almost instantly he wanted to excuse himself and walk back to his room. He glanced at Remus, and he knew that Remus knew too. He gave him a warning but pleading look, asking him not to do exactly what he wanted to. So Harry just closed his eyes momentarily, trying to compose himself, before sighing softly and raising his pumpkin juice to his lips.

"Harry, Hermione," Molly said, in between laughter of two other members. Harry looked over at her, as he noticed Hermione doing the same. Molly was smiling, her red hair pulled into a loose bun.

"Dumbledore has informed me that in two days, when you return to Hogwarts, there will be a dance held in the honor of Harry's victory." She was practically beaming. Harry saw Hermione look down. "He has told me to insist that you go get new dress robes, in order for the event. Remus has already agreed to assist you on your trip to Diagon Alley."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione had gotten there first.

"Mrs. Weasley, I don't think I need new dress robes. I still have my robes from last year, and they're still in pretty good condition."

Molly waved her hand. "Oh, nonsense. Harry and you both need new dress robes, and you will get them." Hermione tried to speak again, but Molly shot her a warning look that made her close her mouth and remain quiet. "Very well then. Remus will accompany you in a few hours to go to Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. I have been informed that you have already have gotten some money out of Gringotts, and so I think the trip will be a fine one." She let out a little giggle. "Oh, this will be a spectacular one, I'm sure of it. Dumbledore left early to make the preparations himself. You two will have such a lovely time."

Molly reached over for more pumpkin juice, as Harry looked over at Remus, who smiled back at him.

"Oh, and before I forget," she said, pouring in the sweet fluid. "Dumbledore is expecting you two to have the honor dance together, considering how close you are with each other." Hermione's eyes widened, as Harry's did the same. "He's already made the arrangements. Oh my," her eyes glittered with happiness. "You two will be just about the loveliest and most beautiful couple of the dance."

oooo

Remus walked in front, brushing past smiling people and keeping an eye on which stores they were passing. Harry and Hermione followed close behind, quiet. Many people stopped by, thanking Harry with a smile and shaking his hand eagerly as he just smiled faintly and told them that it was no problem. He felt odd, shaking their hands and seeing that twinkle of happiness in their eyes. The silence in which he and Hermione walked in, not a word uttered from either, made him think. Mostly his mind was coursing with thoughts of her, if he should say something to start a conversation. But at the same time, he did not want to speak to her. He knew that she would only answer with a short reply, still avoiding his gaze. And he didn't need that.

Never in his life had he ever thought that it would be him and her, walking silently and trying to keep their minds off their feelings and the happenings. He never thought it would be them trying to avoid each other, but at the same time wanting to be so close that it stung. He snuck a glance at her, her brown eyes dark and looking ahead. There was a cold gentle breeze that whisked their way, making her brown waves blow softly. He looked at her longingly, feeling his throat tighten and his hands become icy.

When was this going to stop? When was it going to thin away and finally disappear? When was it going to be when he could laugh and talk to her, just like before? When was it going to be until she could look at him, and he could look at her without feeling this way?

She clung to her cloak tightly, the sky dark and the atmosphere slightly chilly. He tore his eyes away from her and looked ahead, watching Remus adjust his scarf. He saw people pointing and whispering at him, then cheering out or applauding as he passed. He would only smile weakly, trying to seem as if he appreciated it. He thought of how people called him a hero, saving other people's lives and killing the Dark Lord. Anyone could've done that, only he was chosen. He had to be the one to get most of the people he loved killed then risk his life to kill the murderer who begun it all. He had been accustomed to complaining, his years back, but as he grew older and became weaker but stronger at the same time, he knew that complaining would make no difference.

Although there were times when he wished he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived.

But he knew that he could not escape it. His destiny. His identity. As badly as he wished or prayed that he was not the Harry Potter that always managed to make the headlines, he knew that he would always wake up to it, every single day. He was Harry Potter. All he had to do was learn to live with it.

He let out a sigh, feeling the cold chill send shivers once again. He tried to imagine how it would be, him and Hermione holding hands and smiling.

But even as he could imagine it, he did not want to.

Finally, they entered Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The place was lively, people, adults, children, were walking here and there, clutching brightly colored robes. People looked over at him and smiled, whispering and pointing. Harry pretended not to notice. Remus turned to both of them and grinned.

"Well then. I honestly have to tell you that I haven't a clue how to choose dress robes, but I trust that you two do?" Harry and Hermione nodded, as he glanced at her. Her eyes were fixed on Remus. Remus grinned, "alright then. Hermione, best of luck to you, as I shall accompany Harry. I have someplace to visit for some business a bit later, so if I'm not around, just wait outside and sit on the bench right out front. Will that be all right?"

"Yes," Hermione said. She looked over at Harry, and Harry felt that same rising, flapping sensation in his stomach that often happened when she looked or smiled at him. "I'll see you later, Harry," she said quietly, and Harry nodded at her, in a sense, quiet and slightly shocked. She looked at Remus, then turned and started walking towards the Witches section.

Harry watched her, and turned away as that twisting in his gut started getting painful. Watching her walk away, Harry knew, would always leave him feeling this way because the memory was still all too clear. He had left her. She had turned and walked away from him.

Remus turned to him, as they walked towards the Wizards' dress robes.

"You two were dead silent behind me, even with all that raucous of your fans."

Harry looked up at him. "You know how it is," Harry bitterly murmured.

Remus sighed. "I know it's hard, but someone's got to do something. And by someone, I mean you or Hermione."

"She hates me," he said gravely. "I know it."

Remus looked at Harry incredulously. "Are you absolutely out of your mind, Harry? She does not hate you, please believe me when I say so." He chuckled at the young boy's ridiculousness. They both entered into a large room filled with different colored robes, satin to silk, cotton to wool. Remus gave Harry a reassuring smile. "So, which will it be?"

oooo

Harry held the bag in his hands, letting his gaze roam around the room for a brown-haired girl. But he was not met with a familiar sight, so with a sigh, he headed towards the door. Remus had already left, leaving him alone once he had chosen his robes, saying he had to go to that place he had been talking about visiting. Harry walked outside, the door swinging shut behind him. The cold rushed back to him, making him shiver and hold his cloak tightly to him. He looked around for the bench, and saw Hermione, staring straight ahead, a similar bag in her hands. Harry closed his eyes, gathering up his senses that hadn't gone and scattered around. He could feel that same feeling, the urge to turn and walk back into the store, but he ignored it and opened his eyes. He walked towards her, his heart beating loud but dully in his chest.

Her brown eyes met his as he sat down beside her. He looked into her eyes, for this time she did not turn away as abruptly. But as he tried to search her eyes, he found himself looking hard and confused. He could not read a thing. It was just as dark as before, but this time it seemed like a sea of emotions so mixed together it was hard to interpret. He smiled at her weakly.

"Hey," he whispered. Her face were pale, her cheeks red and her lips a shade of deep pink that he remembered back when they had gone out into the snow at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but feel his breath still catch in his throat; the stinging thought of how beautiful she still seemed to be in his eyes.

"Hey," she whispered back, before turning her gaze away. He let his gaze linger on her, noticing how tightly she clutched her bag between her fingers. He knew very well that this was uncomfortable, but even as painful as it was; he still liked being with her.

He thought it funny. Now she was only inches from him, but he still felt as if she was so far away.

He lowered his gaze to his own hands, pale and white from the cold. He looked up at the gray streets, the people walking by who, this time, did not seem to notice him. He could feel the cold kiss his cheeks and skin, feeling the bitter light wind pass through. He tried to swallow the stone in his throat.

He took another look at her, her gaze staring ahead as if he wasn't even there. He felt a constricting bind in his stomach, strangling his lungs, the feeling of just standing up and walking away returning. Only, where was he to go? The dark room where he had locked himself in wasn't here. He could Apparate, but Remus would go hysterical. He knew he couldn't, but just looking at her avoiding him... Being away from her was better than this. And somehow, that made him sad. The transition they'd gone from love and desperation to ignorance and coldness astounded him.

He felt a prickling in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, as he felt as if he might just explode from his feelings and his urges to tell her what he had been thinking of. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't meant to hurt her, that he would never mean to. That he sort of even hated her for doubting him and being so bloody unreasonable. And that he was angry because she loved him and he loved her and she found some reason, a reason that shouldn't matter, why they shouldn't be together.So he did.

"Hermione," he said quietly, looking at her imploringly. "I...I never meant to hurt you. I would never want to. I just...I just didn't even want to risk, or consider the fact of losing you." He watched her as her brown eyes trailed down to her hands, before she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh that even he could not manage to hear. She opened them back up again, before turning her gaze slowly to him.

Her deep brown eyes were still as dark, hurt and pained. But this time, there was something else that he recognized but could not exactly place. He searched her eyes, waiting for a reply. She clutched her bag tightly with her hands.

"Harry," she said, her voice almost as soft as a whisper. "You don't have to apologize. We're just different," she said sadly. "I'm sorry because I couldn't understand. I really am. I stay up at night...thinking, your words repeating in my head. I'm just so sorry, Harry," she said.

Harry looked at her, his emerald eyes burning with hope.

"Hermione, I love you...you know that. We could just try again, and I—

Hermione shook her head, as Harry's words faded away into silence. "No, Harry," she whispered solemnly. "We can't."

"Why not?" Harry asked, more sharply than he'd intended to.

"For a lot of reasons," said Hermione, now looking at him with defiance in her eyes. She was annoyed.

Harry felt himself getting angry. "Then name them," Harry hissed.

"Naming them would be useless, Harry," she said, gesturing with her hands, as if she was trying to whip up something that wasn't there. "It can't work. Don't you see what we do to each other? I hurt you. I kept you cooped up in your room and not eating."

"You're naming things that even Ron would think is stupid," Harry said through his teeth. "Stop making excuses. Just tell me why you don't want to be with me. And I'll leave you alone. If it's good enough."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. She looked at him seriously. "You deserve so much better, Harry," she said quietly.

Harry's brows drew down. "No. No! No!" Harry said, raising his voice. He could feel people across the street and bystanders who were beginning to watch, but he didn't care. He didn't care. How could she be doing this again? How? How could she still not understand? He could feel his throat getting dry and suddenly parched, as his eyes searched hers earnestly and desperately. His heart was beating now only dully, his mind racing. "How could you say that, Hermione?" he said to her, his voice hoarse. "How?"

She looked away, looking as if his questions had pained her. "Harry, please," she said in a hushed tone. "We don't want to make a show of this."

"No, Hermione! No!" he said to her, feeling his lungs close up. He felt it all over again. Just as before. It was happening again. This was what he was afraid of. This was what he had tried to say to Remus, that he couldn't bear it again... But he could feel it. It was there, the loud, splintering crack thundering in his ears.
"Harry...please. Not here. Not now," she whispered urgently. The biting cold swept through him, as if carrying his soul away. But he knew that taking his soul away from him would have been less painful. Nothing could be more painful than this. He swallowed hard, his eyes stinging but he was not willing to blink. He stared at her, her form, her face. She looked angry, but he saw beneath it. She looked as if she wanted to cry.

"How could there be anyone better, Hermione? How?" he asked her, standing up, his voice still slightly raised. "How could there possibly be anyone better? There isn't anyone else who could make me love her as much as I love you!" Now Harry was sure that everyone out on the street was watching. He could hear the silence, the ears that were attentive to their quarrel. He would've been irritated, but he was too caught up in it to care.

"Harry," Hermione said, her chin trembling. "Please, just try to under—"

"No!" Harry yelled, his voice booming. "No! I won't try to understand! I can't understand, Hermione, can't you see that? Every night, I lay awake, thinking, trying to at least comprehend why you did what you did, but I can't understand, Hermione! I know I hurt you, but I was so damn worried and afraid that you were going to follow me or get yourself hurt, that I was selfish! I became so bloody selfish! But isn't anyone allowed that at least once in their life? To be selfish?"Just then, Harry and her both heard shouts, and while Hermione hastily wiped away her tears, Harry glanced at the direction the sudden noise was coming from. It was just then that he was aware of the mass of people watching them, huddled around in anticipation. Suddenly, he saw a blinding flashbulb blink. And then there were more shouts, of which he knew where from the Daily Prophet or some other newspaper. He suddenly felt angry. He glared at all the onlookers, their audience, as he felt his hands clench into fists. He saw more lights go off, and strangers came rushing towards him, shouting his name and questions.

"Mr. Potter! What's going on with you and your girlfriend, Hermione Granger?"

"Harry! Are you two broken up?"

"Harry! Did she cheat on you with old flame Viktor Krum?"

"Is it true that she had an affair with him when you were away fighting Voldemort?" At that question, he felt something flare up inside him, as he heard people barricade Hermione with questions while snapping pictures also. He rushed towards the man who had asked that questions and grabbed the front of his robes. Harry's eyes were flashing, and in the background of all the raucous, he could hear Hermione call his name. But it was too far. Too distinct. He was too angry.

He swung his fist back as the man looked at him with wide eyes, but as soon as his hand was going to crash right into the man's flawless face, someone had pulled him away and he had missed. Someone was holding him by the shoulders, as he struggled to get at the reporters and nosy journalists. The crowd had roughened up even more, and the lights were blinking and flickering, blinding him.

"Harry! Harry!" he suddenly heard a familiar voice say. "Calm down. It's me, Remus! Stop struggling!" Harry relaxed only so that Remus managed to drag him out of the crowd. They tried to quickly walk through the mob, but they were grabbing him, as Remus held Harry firmly by his robes, leading him out.

"Where's Hermione?" Remus suddenly shouted. Harry felt his heart fall. His eyes quickly searched through the faces and cameras, but he could not find her. "Where is she?" Remus repeated, annoyed and frustrated.

"I...I don't know!" Harry replied, as Remus continued to drag him.

"I told you to stay with her!" he shouted over the other voices. Harry felt his throat suddenly become blocked, as his eyes frantically searched through the pack once again. Where was she? He pushed through the crowd and the grabbing hands, looking for her, and trying to listen if she was calling for him above all the yelling and shouting.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, and he could hear Remus start to call for her also. "Hermione!" Just then, Harry felt someone grab his arm and pull him back as he tried to walk on. He tried to pull his arm away from the small, stout man, but he was holding on tightly and firmly.

"Let go!" he shouted at the man, "let go of me!" But the man wasn't listening, and was tugging on his arms forcefully.

"Harry! Is it true that you and Miss Granger were planning to elope—"Harry, realizing that he wasn't going to let him go, swung back his foot and kicked him hard on the shins. The man let go instantly, cursing and clutching his knee. Harry rushed forward, trying to follow Remus, though it was difficult to keep track of him now that Remus had let go of him.

Suddenly, he heard her. Above all the noise, he heard her. He heard her call his name. He halted in his steps, and the mad mob caught up to him again.

"Hermione!" he shouted, "Hermione! Where are you?" He searched through the sea of faces for one that he recognized, but they were all foreign to him. "Hermione!" he called again, "where are you?" Just then, someone stumbled out of the crowd and fell onto him, holding on tightly. He didn't need any more reassurance that it was her; he recognized her russet wavy hair, and the feeling of her clinging onto him seemed too familiar and made flares shoot up his body. He wrapped his arms around her firmly, pressing her to him, and tried to make his way out.

Once they had finally outrun the crowd by only a few yards, Remus and him took no time in Apparating. Harry went first, with Hermione still in his arms, and then Remus.

Harry felt the solid and firm ground underneath him once again, as he slowly took in his surroundings. He sighed, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around her. His heart was beating hard and rapidly, booming in his ears and pounding through his veins. He pulled away from her with hesitation.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "We're here." She pulled back from him, and stepped back, her brown hair falling forwards and covering her face. He watched her silently as she raised her hands and wiped her cheeks, feeling the anger that had once erupted inside him quickly fade away. His once flashing green eyes softened at the sight of her. He took a step towards her, but he swallowed hard as he felt the cold, hard reality hit him.

Suddenly, Remus appeared by her side. His eyes quickly darted to Harry and then Hermione. Harry could see that Remus's eyes were dark, frustrated and angry.

"What happened back there?" Remus demanded. "Newspapers, reporters... How the hell did that happen?"

Harry's eyes flashed to him.

"We got into an argument," Harry said, his voice hard as if on the edge of anger. He felt his rage rapidly catch up to him once again. He clenched his fists, "You left us alone, and we talked. We did just what you wanted. But it turns out that The Daily Prophet and twenty other newspapers just happened to also be walking that same street with their cameras and looking for another juicy story to parade on their front pages." Remus gave him a dark look, before he turned to Hermione. He leaned down and set his hands on her shoulder.

"Let me see," he said to her. Harry looked at them with puzzlement and confusion in his eyes. "Let me see it." But slowly, Hermione raised her hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. That was when he saw it.

Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, her face pale. But on her smooth cheek was a wound that marred her skin. Along her cheek was a long bleeding cut. He stared at it in horror.

"How...how did that happen?" he asked quietly, not remembering someone getting to Hermione when they were pushing through the crowd. Her face had been to him, digging into his chest... That couldn't have possibly happened when she was with him.

"Rings," Remus said, before nodding and standing up again. He looked at Hermione sadly.

"Rings?" Harry asked, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that a wizard with rings probably did that to her," he said. "Most likely a wealthy one. Only wealthy wizards could and would buy rings so dangerous and detrimental." Remus sat down heavily on a vibrant red armchair in the room, as Harry watched him.

"How did you see it?" Harry asked quietly, remembering that Hermione had been holding onto him and didn't let him look at her face.

"Before you were about to Apparate. I saw it."

Harry looked at Hermione, and saw that she was looking down at her feet, silent.

Suddenly, Molly Weasley came into the room with a smile on her face. But her grin faded as she saw the scene before her.

"I take it the trip went—"

"Molly," Remus said, cutting her off. His eyes were weary and he looked exhausted. "Could you please aid to Hermione? She received quite a cut when we were there."

Molly looked at him in curiosity and worry, but she nodded and walked over to Hermione. "Surely," she said, draping an arm over Hermione gently, and leading her out of the room.

Harry stared after them, before looking at Remus.

He was looking at him sternly, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I'm going to ask you again, Harry," he asked in a hard voice that hinted his anger, "what happened when I was gone."

"We did just what you wanted us to do," he said, seething. "We talked."

"Harry, I come back and there's newspapers, reporters, gossip columnists barricading the place. And then I catch you about to beat the bloody pulp out of a man—"

"What does it matter?" Harry shouted, livid. "You left us alone! You could've prevented all of this!"

"What would they say," Remus asked him, his voice rising, "if they found out that you beat up a man just because you were angry? How would that make you look?"

"I don't care!" he yelled, "I don't care what the bloody newspapers say!"

"I know they say and ask antagonistic questions sometimes, but you can't just go and punch every person the media sends out to—"

"You don't know what they were asking or saying to me, Remus!" Harry shouted. "You don't know how it feels when you lay everything on the line again and the girl you love refuses it all and breaks you again! You don't know how it feels to be interrogated because people have a sick and disgusting joy of knowing that Harry Potter has a broken heart! You don't know how it feels to find out that you just gave the bloody newspapers and gossip columns a story without even knowing it! You don't know, Remus! You don't have a bloody clue, so don't lecture me if you don't know how it is to be in my shoes!"

Remus looked at him with glimmering eyes.

"You're right," he said to him. "I don't. I don't have a single clue as to how horrible it is to be Harry Potter. But that still doesn't excuse you from your actions. Even in the wizarding world we have rules and restrictions! You can't just punch them whenever they come up to you. What would've happened if you did punch him, Harry? What would've happened if I let you punch him or if I hadn't gotten there in time? He could've pressed charges! You've been living here for years, Harry, you know better, I can't believe you could be so reckless—"

"Oh, come off it, Remus!" Harry yelled at him.

"No, Harry, you listen to me!" Remus bellowed loudly, standing up. "Even the Hero can't go around doing what he wants! He can't do things and expect to get let off easy just because he killed the biggest threat in our world! I know that you're angry with Hermione, but never, under any circumstances whatsoever does that excuse you from harming another person just because you were on the edge! Do you understand me?"

Harry eyes flashed, gritting his teeth and his nails digging into his flesh.

"You're not my father!" Harry shouted, "and you will never even come close, so stop trying to act like it! I know what I'm doing; I know what I was about to do! I understand, Remus, okay? I understand and I don't need you to tell and lecture me about it! Got that, Remus? I don't need you telling me any of this! I don't need anyone!"

"Stop acting like a blasted spoiled brat, Harry!" he roared. "You do need us! Just because some girl broke your heart doesn't mean you've got to turn your back on the world! Just because she doesn't need you doesn't mean that you don't need her, or anyone else, for that matter! Just get over it, Harry! Stop acting like a damned prick, and listen for just once!"

"I'm done listening!" Harry yelled. "I'm so sick of people telling me what to do, expecting that I'm going to do it! And you're right, just because of some girl doesn't mean I should turn my back on the world, but have you ever considered, Remus, that the world turned its back on me first? Have you ever realized that it's just that I've finally seen it? And you're also right; I do need her! I was so prepared to spend the rest of my life with her, but you know what, I'm not the only one who left! She's the one that left me!"

Remus shook his head. "I thought you knew so much better, Harry. You've been famous for all your life! I would've thought that you would've grown to understand it, to try and comprehend just what the price was...but it seems that you've not been living in the real world, after all."

"Real world?" Harry shouted. "So I've been living in some fantasy world? Where my parents and my Godfather were murdered, and lives have been taken away just because of me? Where the girl I love denies me? Yeah, that's my fantasy world, Remus. I never want to go back to reality, ever!"

But as he turned to walk away, he saw who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen to the living room.

Molly Weasley looked at him with surprise, sadness and disappointment in her widened blue eyes. He could feel that his gaze was cold, but he could not let it fade away. He saw Hermione look at him, white and pale, horrified, shocked, upset and sad.

"Harry," she whispered shakily, her brown eyes pleading at him, but he only gave her an icy look and turned away. He briskly walked to the stairs and rushed up, disappearing as he walked up to his room.

Remus looked up at the stairs, his eyes unwavering. His glittering, angry eyes had faded into hurt, and pain, as he looked at Molly and Hermione. Molly frowned sadly as Hermione turned and had walked back into the kitchen, crying. He sighed, sitting back down on the chair and covering his face with his hands.

Molly threw a sad look up towards the stairs, before looking one final time at Remus and walking back inside the kitchen.