Butcher's Bill chapter 2, Fault (these chapters are too long for notepad, which is my only Word Proccessor)
Suddenly it made sense why there was no one worried about him and waiting patiently for him to wake. They were all mourning the death of one of the inseperable twins, and blaming it on him. He cried because he knew he had killed a member of the family he had grown so close to, that he was sure he would consider himself a part of when he entered the adult world. Now that the blood of their family was on his hands he knew he could never call himself one of them. Mrs. Weasley would never again say that he was practically one of her sons. The healer tried to help him back to bed, but he pushed him away, sitting on a cold floor being better for the feelings he was feeling than any warm, soft bed.
It was a long time before Harry, exhausted from everything he had been through crawled back into bed and fell asleep, only to be assailed by nightmares. His hand slew Rodolphus, the blank, vaguely suprised look on the man's face as he died suddenly, Fred standing over his twin's corpse looking at Harry with eyes shouting blame and sorrow, Sirius falling backwards through that accursed veil. Each image twisted in his mind, changing from one to the other with sickening irregularity, a constant torment of blame that Harry couldn't even wake up from to escape. When morning finally came and Harry's eyes cracked open it seemed none too soon for Harry.
Harry was already sick of this white room he was waking up in for the second time. He slid out of bed and stalked to the door, he was checking himself out of this place. He wasn't sure where he'd go, it was still more than a week before Hogwarts was scheduled to start. He couldn't go back to the Weasley's house after what he had done. He couldn't face all those well deserved accusing looks. He walked to the door, pushing it open and stepped through. The hallway stretched to the left, Harry could see a desk behind which the night-shift nurse was struggling to stay awake. He realized he was without his wand and his own clothing. He walked purposefully up to the nurse who, upon seeing him, jumped to her feet as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Excuse me, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand." Harry asked politely. The nurse opened her mouth and closed it again, reconsidering what she had to say.
"You should still be asleep, I should call a healer for you."
"No, I just need my wand, please give it back to me now." Harry's patience was wearing thin, why did everyone expect him to sleep all the time?
"Your wand is being kept at the front desk and will be returned to you after a..." The nurse trailed off, Harry already having started away from her desk toward the stairs. He walked down the stairs slowly, his mind on what he would do next. There wasn't a safe place left in the wizarding world and he wouldn't put it past Voldemort to kill as many muggles as necissary, as possible, to get to Harry if he were to live in the muggle world for a time. If he could convince the Order of the Phoenix of his perdicament he could stay at #12 Grimmauld place for the week. He was fairly sure he could find his way there on his own, Harry had a good directional sense. He just needed to get his wand. He arrived at the base level of the hospital. The reception desk was just ahead. Stepping up to get in the long line he ran into someone. Both he and the person he ran into stumbled slightly, Harry was halfway through a suprised apology when he realized who he had run into. Fred Weasley smiled slightly as Harry's voice fell away.
"Nice to see you again Harry, this time with fewer Death Eaters I see." Fred grinned. Harry wasn't sure what to say, Fred was supposed to hate him for what happened to his twin brother. It was his fault after all.
"I'm sorry." Harry managed to croak out.
"You're sorry? Why whatever for Harry?" Fred said, his smile turned sad, showing he really did know what Harry was sorry about.
"It was my fault, I deserve nothing but your loathing for what happened." Harry said, unable to meet Fred's eyes. Fred's look changed, to one of anger. Harry found himself stumbling to the side, his ears ringing from a sharp blow to the left side of his face. Fred had slapped him, hard.
"I just slapped you, I willfully pulled my hand back and hit you with it." Fred said in an explanitory voice, "It is my fault that your face hurts." Fred lowered his hand, his smile coming back. "You had no such choices to make the day that George died."
Harry was angry that he had been hit, but still felt he owed so much to Fred and even more to George for what they did for him that he held back his fury, "I could have just let them kill me, without running you would have never been involved and George would still be alive today."
"Do you want me to slap you again Potter? My mother wanted me and George to stay out of the Order because she didn't want us to die." Fred explained, "We understood this, and wanted to join the Order anyway. Our reason for wanting such a thing was not so we wouldn't be left out of the loop, it wasn't because we were bored and wanted to do exciting things. We wanted to join because we realized how important the Order was, and we were, and I still am, willing to die to help stop Voldemort and his followers."
"But, what about your mother, and Ron, and the rest, are they fine with it? Do they believe it wasn't my fault?" Harry asked him, the relief at finding he wasn't hated on account of what had happened giving way to the fear that he actually would. Fred was just about to answer when they heard a polite cough. Harry looked around and saw the line had shrunk, and they were next for the receptionist witch. Harry stepped forward, embarrassed that he was wasting the woman's time.
"Yes, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand and clothing back." Harry said, the witch looked at him over the rim of her spectacles.
"Harry Potter is it?" Harry nodded. The witch pulled out a small package.
"Here you go, you'll find your wand in your forward right pocket in your cloak." Harry thanked the woman, and hesitated before asking,
"What was the name of the older man killed yesterday in Diagon Alley?" The witch frowned up at him, before silently shifting some papers around.
"It was one Jericho Diggory." Harry's face darkened, another Diggory's blood was on his hands. Harry smiled and thanked the receptionist, then excused himself so he could change back into his own clothing. He found his clothing to be freshly washed and mended, no sign showing of the gaping holes and bloodstains that should have been prevalent after his thrashing the day before. Laying his hospital robe in the bathroom he returned to Fred's side and they left the Hospital together. Harry's stomache grumbled discontentedly.
"Join me for a late breakfast?" Fred asked Harry seriously.
"Absolutely." Harry agreed.
* * *
It was a dingy muggle coffeehouse they entered that morning, the only things to eat were poorly made strudels and smelly bran muffins. Fred paid for it all and they adjourned to a corner. Something suddenly occured to Harry.
"Fred, why were you at the hospital this morning?" He asked, Fred coughed, nearly choking on his tea.
"Well, I was there visiting Angelina." Fred said simply, after he had recovered. "She took a powerful curse, and the healers are still trying to figure out the exact countercurse." he sighed, "She's in a lot of pain, so I figure I should comfort her as best I can." Fred ended the explaination by taking a large bite of his strudel and changing the subject.
"So, you figure my family's going to do an about face and begin hating you because of the actions of a group of Death Eaters?" Fred asked conversationally. Harry cringed, "Well, yes. Your mother's greatest fear is coming to pass and I think she might relate it to me because I was there." Harry disappended the phrase "it was my fault" knowing what Fred thought of that.
"For being all but one of the family you still have a lot to learn about what it means to be a Weasley. Step one is big families, step two is sticking by your family and friends, especially when times are tough." Fred smirked, "And times are tough right now." Fred hesitated, "And besides, if they're unwilling to take you in you're welcome to stay at my place."
"So you're not sure after all." Harry blurted out, Fred sighed heavily.
"I can't claim to know for certain what my parents will decide, a death in the family does strange things to people." he sighed again.
"we should really get going, I want to get you to the Burrow by noon and it's a busy time for the Knight Bus." He finished off his tea and strudel and made his way out of the coffeehouse, Harry following close behind.
* * *
Fred had been right about it being a busy time on the Knight Bus. Though Harry had ridden on it several times now and was a bit more used to the sudden jolts of it's strange journey he still found himself almost falling off his chair multiple times. It was more than an hours ride before he found the Knight Bus on a country road slowing to a stop in front of Harry's second favorite place in the world, The Burrow. Today's reactions would probably determine whether he could ever return to it again. He stepped off the bus, Fred in tow. Harry glanced at Fred, who gave him an encouraging smile. Harry walked up the winding path through the messy garden to knock on the front door to the three storied farm-style house. The door was answered by a person who managed to completely deflate his hopes.
"Ginny." Harry said in friendly greeting when she opened the door.
"Harry." She said with no small amount of malevolence. "We thought you'd come by, to pick up your things." the second part of that sentance rang with more emphasis than the first part. Fred had been wrong, there was plenty ill will harbored against him in this house. He nodded, visably hurt by the meaning behind her words, but knowing he had expected such a reaction. She opened the door wider for him to enter and stepped away from the door. Harry's trunk wasn't in the living room, while apparently Ron's set of Wizard's Chess was left in the middle of a game. He looked around, but found his trunk nowhere on the first floor, he found no one present. He looked to Fred, who shrugged. He passed the landing on the second floor, doubting they would be keeping his trunk in either Ginny or Percy's rooms, that left Ron's room and the Attic.
In Ron's room, on the floor lay Harry's trunk and next to the windowsil rested Hedwig in her cage. Harry hefted his trunk and started back down the stairway. He set it down again on the second floor landing to catch his breath. That's when he heard the sobbing. The sound was coming through the crack of Ginny's door. Harry hesitated, it really wasn't his business how she expressed her emotion, none of his business that she was crying. Even if it was his fault, he didn't care what Fred said, it was his life that was causing these end of other lives around him. He knew he deserved some of the blame for what had happened, and he knew now he could probably only get it from Ginny. He nudged he door open further and took a peek inside. Ginny was lying on her bed, her back to the door. She was crying softly to herself, curled up slightly on her messy bedspread. Harry hesitated once more before pushing the door open wider. The report of squeeking hinges alerted Ginny to his presence. She sat up quickly, hands flying to her face to wipe away her tears. She looked to Harry in the doorway, her puffy eyes narrowing,
"What do you want?" she asked vindictively. Harry found he couldn't say anything. He simply stood there, looking at the girl lying on the bed, hating him. Ginny began to look annoyed.
"Look, you can pick up your things, but we don't want you here anymore, it's your fault after all, what happened." Ginny almost lost herself to her tears again. Harry suddenly found his voice again.
"Yes, you're right." Harry whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, "It's all my fault..." speaking up he repeated, "It's all my fault, and I'm sorry." Ginny slid out of bed and walked over to stand in front of him, there was no spark of friendship there, nothing was alive in her eyes but the cold hatred directed towards her brother's murderer, who was standing in front of her.
"Just get out." her words dripped with venom. Harry stood still for a moment more before leaving her room and shutting the door quietly behind him. He sighed, and picked up his trunk, now more than ready to continue down the stairs and away from another family he could have had, if only Voldemort and his followers wouldn't have done the things they did Harry wouldn't be the last survivor of his own family and an exile from the one he had nearly grown into. He found Fred waiting for him at the bottom, a dark look on his face.
"I really expected more out of this family, I can't believe they'd let a death split us apart like this." Fred's dark look mitigated itself, "I was serious when I told you that you could stay with me, unless you've got somewhere else you'd rather stay." Harry shook his head,
"This was the only place I would have liked to stay, and that isn't an option for me any longer." Harry said, "Lead on."
The two of them got to the entrance to the garden when Harry remembered what he forgot.
"Hedwig, I'm sorry Fred, I'll be right back." Harry rushed back to the house and up the stairs. He carefully picked up Hedwig's cage and returned to the first floor again. It was then that the whole of the Weasley family returned. The front door burst open and in stormed a frizzy haired, puffy-eyed Mrs. Weasley followed by an entourage of red haired boys. Fred, Ron, Percy, and Mr. Weasley all followed the foremost Weasley mother.
"What is this nonsense talk of us kicking you out?" Mrs. Weasley said, a little breathlessly, "There's no way we would kick you out right as we lost George." Harry cringed
"But I'm the reason you lost him... you must find me at fault for what happened." Harry said quietly, not sure if he should get his hopes up.
"That's garbage Harry, the death eaters killed him, not you." Ron burst forth. Harry shook his head.
"But if it hadn't been for my presence the Death Eaters would have never met George that day." Harry explained.
"Running for your life is expected, no one would hold self preservation against you, and it's not like you knew George would die." Fred commented, his voice quiet, his eyes looking to the stairway. Ron moved to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"You're my best mate Harry, like another brother, I'd hate to lose two in the same week." Harry almost managed a smile at this, but then his face fell once again.
"There's just one thing..." Harry began, sighing, "Not all are as forgiving as you are. Ginny does not want me here." everybody looked to the stairwell, Harry followed their gaze and found it rested on Ginny, standing on the bottom-most stair.
"He's no brother of mine, he took George away from us." Ginny spoke.
"Shut up Gin! it's not his fault." Ron nearly shouted at the offending girl.
"I don't think it's a question of fault, Death rides on his left shoulder, causing all around him to die." Ginny fairly spat. Unbidden, Harry's fists began to clench.
"What do you mean by that?" He inquired in a quiet voice.
"I mean you cause the deaths of those you love and who love you. It's a pity Death doesn't take you instead." Harry looked at Ginny no longer wishing for her hate, but seeing it and returning it full force.
"I'd like to see you deal with being the target of Death Eaters who want to torture you to death. It's not the clear picture you seem to paint." Harry growled, his temper roused past his grief.
"Oh, don't act like I don't know what it's like to face Death eaters, it's you that we followed into the department of mysteries where we all almost died." Ginny retorted, her voice now rising.
"Obviously you don't remember well, it's not the clear cut choice of your life or your friend's. You do what you can, but you're never in control." Harry's voice rose to match the young Weasley. Mrs. Weasley stepped between them, raising her arms and saying, "Calm down, both of you, there's no reason to argue." Ginny paused.
"I suppose you're right, nothing I say can pierce his shell of arrogance." something about that sentance made Harry very afraid, afraid that it was true.
"And he has all of you under his spell so fast that you can't see that he'll doom us all." Ginny said, looking at her assembled family. With that she stormed back up the stairs and slammed the door to her room. Funny, thought Harry, that he was both the only hope for the entire Wizarding world and likely the Muggle world as well, yet he was also it's doom. It was a rather dry joke.
The room was quiet after Ginny left. All eyes were on Harry. Harry stared dully ahead, wondering what it was he had done in a past life to deserve the horribly scarred life he was leading. Then again, maybe it was this life that he was building up a debt to be paid back in his next life. It was Ron who finally broke the silence.
"You know none of us believe her, right mate?" he asked, hopeful that he wouldn't get mad at them as well because of what Ginny had said.
"She's right though." Harry said quietly.
"Are you mad? You don't mean for those people to die... do you?" Ron said uncertainly.
"Of course I don't, but a suprising number of people die because of me." Harry spoke in a flat voice. "Wherever I go, people start dying."
No one had anything to say to this. Harry sighed heavily, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, but I would rather stay here than get thrown out, but if you think your family needs to be strong together and I'd get in Ginny's way then I'd be happy to go." Harry wasn't even finished when five redhaired heads were already shaking to indicate a negative.
"You're one of us Harry, Ginny will come around soon." Mrs. Weasley assured.
"I'd trust you with my life, Harry, you've been my best mate from day one. That isn't gonna change now." Ron said seriously.
Harry opened his mouth, but choked on his words. "Thank you" is what he meant to say, but when he couldn't say it, it was too little to express what he felt. About George, about Ginny, about their enduring friendship throughout the years. Those words were too little so instead he pulled Ron into a tight embrace. Physically was the only way of expressing what he couldn't say verbally. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and Percy were joining in as well. Tears sprang from nowhere and they seemed to appear in everybody's eyes at the same time. They were not a mass of people hugging and crying, they were a single unit, a family, mourning one who had passed beyond the veil. Ginny sat on the floor in her darkened room, in the small space between the bed and the wall.
* * *
The rest of the day passed quickly and quietly for the residents of the Burrow. With the exception of the youngest of them they all sat comfortably around the family room telling stories about the deceased. It was a strange mixture of humor and sorrow. Percy seemed to be trying to make up for lost time with his family members, knowing that any of them could be dead before long and not wanting anybody else to die without being able to clear the air between them. It struck Harry how different this mourning was from his own mourning over Sirius. The focus seemed to be on healing and fond rememberance, rather than a self-feeding spiral of blame and recriminations. Reflecting on this summer he realized that his situation and additude had probably caused some deep emotional scarring. After dinner he begged off sitting with them more by telling them that he was very tired and wanted some rest. He hoped none of them saw the bag of dinner rolls and lamb leg he had nicked. Acending to the second floor landing he didn't hesitate before knocking lightly on Ginny's tightly shut door.
"Go away." was the only response he got.
"It's Harry..." Harry began, knowing he would be interrupted, which he was.
"I don't want to talk to you. Go away." He heard from the other side of the door. It was nothing more than he expected, which was why he had taken the food.
"I have food, for you." Harry said gently, inoffensively. There was a slight pause before he heard a half-hearted
"I'm not hungry. Go away." Ignoring her a third time he instead responded to the first half of the sentance.
"Even so, you need to eat, when was the last time you ate?" Harry heard a noncommittal response.
"If I had to guess," Harry continued, "You haven't eaten since you heard about George." There was only silence in response.
"And when you heard, at first you didn't want to believe it, that it was one of Fred's tricks, that he'd tell you about it and laugh at your gullibility. But that wasn't happening, he was telling the whole family, and when nobody laughed and George didn't jump out to suprise everyone you realized the worst was true." No sound came from Ginny's room, so Harry continued.
"You got angry then, at the Death Eaters who did it, maybe at your parents for letting them join the order, most likely at me, for being the catalyst to their meeting. I think you got so angry you broke something, but that only made you more angry. Nothing could satisfy your anger because nothing you could break could bring back your brother. Once your anger wore itself out you felt pain, a seemingly unending ocean of pain so wide you don't see the end even in the distance, so deep you feel as if it will sweep you away down and down forever. Now you are trying to push emotions away from you because you feel like they are what caused you the pain. If you never loved George you never would have had to feel so horribly." Harry was near to tears himself, but choked them back in order to finish. "But a lack of emotion hurts as much as emotion ever could... I know all of this because I just went through this, I know how you feel because I still feel the same way myself."
The door cracked open slightly, Ginny's face appeared, tearstreaked, and lacking the coldness he saw there before. She opened it more fully and held out her hand mutely. Harry compliantly gave her the bag of food. She stepped away from the door, leaving it open. Harry took a deep breath and a chance, stepping in behind her.
"I guess you deserve to talk as long as it takes me to eat." Ginny said, still cautious of Harry. She took a large bite of a roll, as if to speed him along to his point.
"I want you to rejoin the family tomorrow." Ginny looked at him sharply, "Just because the rest of this family is pretending like you're a Weasley doesn't mean you are, don't think of yourself as one of us." Harry was silent for a moment, then repeated himself.
"I want you to rejoin your family tomorrow." This time Ginny sighed, took another bite and chewed slowly before responding.
"I don't see why you would want me with you, I don't want to be anywhere near you." Ginny picked up the piece of lamb and tore off a chunk.
"If your presence requires my absence, so be it." Harry said immediately. Ginny looked up at him, suprised. She gave him a measuring look before cautiously responding.
"Why do you want me to rejoin my family so badly?" Ginny asked neutrally, a touch of suspicion in her voice.
"Because I don't want you to go through this pain alone, with your brothers you can move towards healing."
"And if I requested you vacate yourself you would do so?" Ginny asked, Harry simply nodded.
"So you don't need healing yourself then? So you never cared about George at all." Ginny said maliciously, catching him in a trap. Harry sighed, looking down at his hands, spread palms up.
"It's not that, it's that..." Harry hesitated, "Well, I guess some people deserve to heal their wounds, but others can't afford that luxury."
Ginny looked at him with different eyes, "You mean that you're not even trying to recover from Sirius?" Harry stood up suddenly.
"Good night Ginny." and he left before Ginny could call him back.
Harry took a moment to reorient himself outside her door before slowly climbing the rest of the steps up to Ron's bedroom where he'd be sleeping. He really was tired, perhaps it was that his wounds had not yet fully healed, maybe it was just all the emotion of the day had worn him out. As he settled down onto a matress set up for him on Ron's floor he looked to his hands again. To him they were stained by the blood of those who had died because of him. He etched into his mind a list of those who had died because of his presance.
James Potter
Lily Potter
Cedric Diggory
Sirius Black
Rodolphus Lestrange
Jericho Diggory
George Weasley
Harry hoped that the list would not grow longer, but he knew there was at least one name he would need to add. He hoped Voldemort's name would be the last he would ever add to this list.
AN: sorry about formatting and spelling. Without a beta reader or a normal word processer I have to do my best.
Suddenly it made sense why there was no one worried about him and waiting patiently for him to wake. They were all mourning the death of one of the inseperable twins, and blaming it on him. He cried because he knew he had killed a member of the family he had grown so close to, that he was sure he would consider himself a part of when he entered the adult world. Now that the blood of their family was on his hands he knew he could never call himself one of them. Mrs. Weasley would never again say that he was practically one of her sons. The healer tried to help him back to bed, but he pushed him away, sitting on a cold floor being better for the feelings he was feeling than any warm, soft bed.
It was a long time before Harry, exhausted from everything he had been through crawled back into bed and fell asleep, only to be assailed by nightmares. His hand slew Rodolphus, the blank, vaguely suprised look on the man's face as he died suddenly, Fred standing over his twin's corpse looking at Harry with eyes shouting blame and sorrow, Sirius falling backwards through that accursed veil. Each image twisted in his mind, changing from one to the other with sickening irregularity, a constant torment of blame that Harry couldn't even wake up from to escape. When morning finally came and Harry's eyes cracked open it seemed none too soon for Harry.
Harry was already sick of this white room he was waking up in for the second time. He slid out of bed and stalked to the door, he was checking himself out of this place. He wasn't sure where he'd go, it was still more than a week before Hogwarts was scheduled to start. He couldn't go back to the Weasley's house after what he had done. He couldn't face all those well deserved accusing looks. He walked to the door, pushing it open and stepped through. The hallway stretched to the left, Harry could see a desk behind which the night-shift nurse was struggling to stay awake. He realized he was without his wand and his own clothing. He walked purposefully up to the nurse who, upon seeing him, jumped to her feet as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Excuse me, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand." Harry asked politely. The nurse opened her mouth and closed it again, reconsidering what she had to say.
"You should still be asleep, I should call a healer for you."
"No, I just need my wand, please give it back to me now." Harry's patience was wearing thin, why did everyone expect him to sleep all the time?
"Your wand is being kept at the front desk and will be returned to you after a..." The nurse trailed off, Harry already having started away from her desk toward the stairs. He walked down the stairs slowly, his mind on what he would do next. There wasn't a safe place left in the wizarding world and he wouldn't put it past Voldemort to kill as many muggles as necissary, as possible, to get to Harry if he were to live in the muggle world for a time. If he could convince the Order of the Phoenix of his perdicament he could stay at #12 Grimmauld place for the week. He was fairly sure he could find his way there on his own, Harry had a good directional sense. He just needed to get his wand. He arrived at the base level of the hospital. The reception desk was just ahead. Stepping up to get in the long line he ran into someone. Both he and the person he ran into stumbled slightly, Harry was halfway through a suprised apology when he realized who he had run into. Fred Weasley smiled slightly as Harry's voice fell away.
"Nice to see you again Harry, this time with fewer Death Eaters I see." Fred grinned. Harry wasn't sure what to say, Fred was supposed to hate him for what happened to his twin brother. It was his fault after all.
"I'm sorry." Harry managed to croak out.
"You're sorry? Why whatever for Harry?" Fred said, his smile turned sad, showing he really did know what Harry was sorry about.
"It was my fault, I deserve nothing but your loathing for what happened." Harry said, unable to meet Fred's eyes. Fred's look changed, to one of anger. Harry found himself stumbling to the side, his ears ringing from a sharp blow to the left side of his face. Fred had slapped him, hard.
"I just slapped you, I willfully pulled my hand back and hit you with it." Fred said in an explanitory voice, "It is my fault that your face hurts." Fred lowered his hand, his smile coming back. "You had no such choices to make the day that George died."
Harry was angry that he had been hit, but still felt he owed so much to Fred and even more to George for what they did for him that he held back his fury, "I could have just let them kill me, without running you would have never been involved and George would still be alive today."
"Do you want me to slap you again Potter? My mother wanted me and George to stay out of the Order because she didn't want us to die." Fred explained, "We understood this, and wanted to join the Order anyway. Our reason for wanting such a thing was not so we wouldn't be left out of the loop, it wasn't because we were bored and wanted to do exciting things. We wanted to join because we realized how important the Order was, and we were, and I still am, willing to die to help stop Voldemort and his followers."
"But, what about your mother, and Ron, and the rest, are they fine with it? Do they believe it wasn't my fault?" Harry asked him, the relief at finding he wasn't hated on account of what had happened giving way to the fear that he actually would. Fred was just about to answer when they heard a polite cough. Harry looked around and saw the line had shrunk, and they were next for the receptionist witch. Harry stepped forward, embarrassed that he was wasting the woman's time.
"Yes, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand and clothing back." Harry said, the witch looked at him over the rim of her spectacles.
"Harry Potter is it?" Harry nodded. The witch pulled out a small package.
"Here you go, you'll find your wand in your forward right pocket in your cloak." Harry thanked the woman, and hesitated before asking,
"What was the name of the older man killed yesterday in Diagon Alley?" The witch frowned up at him, before silently shifting some papers around.
"It was one Jericho Diggory." Harry's face darkened, another Diggory's blood was on his hands. Harry smiled and thanked the receptionist, then excused himself so he could change back into his own clothing. He found his clothing to be freshly washed and mended, no sign showing of the gaping holes and bloodstains that should have been prevalent after his thrashing the day before. Laying his hospital robe in the bathroom he returned to Fred's side and they left the Hospital together. Harry's stomache grumbled discontentedly.
"Join me for a late breakfast?" Fred asked Harry seriously.
"Absolutely." Harry agreed.
* * *
It was a dingy muggle coffeehouse they entered that morning, the only things to eat were poorly made strudels and smelly bran muffins. Fred paid for it all and they adjourned to a corner. Something suddenly occured to Harry.
"Fred, why were you at the hospital this morning?" He asked, Fred coughed, nearly choking on his tea.
"Well, I was there visiting Angelina." Fred said simply, after he had recovered. "She took a powerful curse, and the healers are still trying to figure out the exact countercurse." he sighed, "She's in a lot of pain, so I figure I should comfort her as best I can." Fred ended the explaination by taking a large bite of his strudel and changing the subject.
"So, you figure my family's going to do an about face and begin hating you because of the actions of a group of Death Eaters?" Fred asked conversationally. Harry cringed, "Well, yes. Your mother's greatest fear is coming to pass and I think she might relate it to me because I was there." Harry disappended the phrase "it was my fault" knowing what Fred thought of that.
"For being all but one of the family you still have a lot to learn about what it means to be a Weasley. Step one is big families, step two is sticking by your family and friends, especially when times are tough." Fred smirked, "And times are tough right now." Fred hesitated, "And besides, if they're unwilling to take you in you're welcome to stay at my place."
"So you're not sure after all." Harry blurted out, Fred sighed heavily.
"I can't claim to know for certain what my parents will decide, a death in the family does strange things to people." he sighed again.
"we should really get going, I want to get you to the Burrow by noon and it's a busy time for the Knight Bus." He finished off his tea and strudel and made his way out of the coffeehouse, Harry following close behind.
* * *
Fred had been right about it being a busy time on the Knight Bus. Though Harry had ridden on it several times now and was a bit more used to the sudden jolts of it's strange journey he still found himself almost falling off his chair multiple times. It was more than an hours ride before he found the Knight Bus on a country road slowing to a stop in front of Harry's second favorite place in the world, The Burrow. Today's reactions would probably determine whether he could ever return to it again. He stepped off the bus, Fred in tow. Harry glanced at Fred, who gave him an encouraging smile. Harry walked up the winding path through the messy garden to knock on the front door to the three storied farm-style house. The door was answered by a person who managed to completely deflate his hopes.
"Ginny." Harry said in friendly greeting when she opened the door.
"Harry." She said with no small amount of malevolence. "We thought you'd come by, to pick up your things." the second part of that sentance rang with more emphasis than the first part. Fred had been wrong, there was plenty ill will harbored against him in this house. He nodded, visably hurt by the meaning behind her words, but knowing he had expected such a reaction. She opened the door wider for him to enter and stepped away from the door. Harry's trunk wasn't in the living room, while apparently Ron's set of Wizard's Chess was left in the middle of a game. He looked around, but found his trunk nowhere on the first floor, he found no one present. He looked to Fred, who shrugged. He passed the landing on the second floor, doubting they would be keeping his trunk in either Ginny or Percy's rooms, that left Ron's room and the Attic.
In Ron's room, on the floor lay Harry's trunk and next to the windowsil rested Hedwig in her cage. Harry hefted his trunk and started back down the stairway. He set it down again on the second floor landing to catch his breath. That's when he heard the sobbing. The sound was coming through the crack of Ginny's door. Harry hesitated, it really wasn't his business how she expressed her emotion, none of his business that she was crying. Even if it was his fault, he didn't care what Fred said, it was his life that was causing these end of other lives around him. He knew he deserved some of the blame for what had happened, and he knew now he could probably only get it from Ginny. He nudged he door open further and took a peek inside. Ginny was lying on her bed, her back to the door. She was crying softly to herself, curled up slightly on her messy bedspread. Harry hesitated once more before pushing the door open wider. The report of squeeking hinges alerted Ginny to his presence. She sat up quickly, hands flying to her face to wipe away her tears. She looked to Harry in the doorway, her puffy eyes narrowing,
"What do you want?" she asked vindictively. Harry found he couldn't say anything. He simply stood there, looking at the girl lying on the bed, hating him. Ginny began to look annoyed.
"Look, you can pick up your things, but we don't want you here anymore, it's your fault after all, what happened." Ginny almost lost herself to her tears again. Harry suddenly found his voice again.
"Yes, you're right." Harry whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, "It's all my fault..." speaking up he repeated, "It's all my fault, and I'm sorry." Ginny slid out of bed and walked over to stand in front of him, there was no spark of friendship there, nothing was alive in her eyes but the cold hatred directed towards her brother's murderer, who was standing in front of her.
"Just get out." her words dripped with venom. Harry stood still for a moment more before leaving her room and shutting the door quietly behind him. He sighed, and picked up his trunk, now more than ready to continue down the stairs and away from another family he could have had, if only Voldemort and his followers wouldn't have done the things they did Harry wouldn't be the last survivor of his own family and an exile from the one he had nearly grown into. He found Fred waiting for him at the bottom, a dark look on his face.
"I really expected more out of this family, I can't believe they'd let a death split us apart like this." Fred's dark look mitigated itself, "I was serious when I told you that you could stay with me, unless you've got somewhere else you'd rather stay." Harry shook his head,
"This was the only place I would have liked to stay, and that isn't an option for me any longer." Harry said, "Lead on."
The two of them got to the entrance to the garden when Harry remembered what he forgot.
"Hedwig, I'm sorry Fred, I'll be right back." Harry rushed back to the house and up the stairs. He carefully picked up Hedwig's cage and returned to the first floor again. It was then that the whole of the Weasley family returned. The front door burst open and in stormed a frizzy haired, puffy-eyed Mrs. Weasley followed by an entourage of red haired boys. Fred, Ron, Percy, and Mr. Weasley all followed the foremost Weasley mother.
"What is this nonsense talk of us kicking you out?" Mrs. Weasley said, a little breathlessly, "There's no way we would kick you out right as we lost George." Harry cringed
"But I'm the reason you lost him... you must find me at fault for what happened." Harry said quietly, not sure if he should get his hopes up.
"That's garbage Harry, the death eaters killed him, not you." Ron burst forth. Harry shook his head.
"But if it hadn't been for my presence the Death Eaters would have never met George that day." Harry explained.
"Running for your life is expected, no one would hold self preservation against you, and it's not like you knew George would die." Fred commented, his voice quiet, his eyes looking to the stairway. Ron moved to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"You're my best mate Harry, like another brother, I'd hate to lose two in the same week." Harry almost managed a smile at this, but then his face fell once again.
"There's just one thing..." Harry began, sighing, "Not all are as forgiving as you are. Ginny does not want me here." everybody looked to the stairwell, Harry followed their gaze and found it rested on Ginny, standing on the bottom-most stair.
"He's no brother of mine, he took George away from us." Ginny spoke.
"Shut up Gin! it's not his fault." Ron nearly shouted at the offending girl.
"I don't think it's a question of fault, Death rides on his left shoulder, causing all around him to die." Ginny fairly spat. Unbidden, Harry's fists began to clench.
"What do you mean by that?" He inquired in a quiet voice.
"I mean you cause the deaths of those you love and who love you. It's a pity Death doesn't take you instead." Harry looked at Ginny no longer wishing for her hate, but seeing it and returning it full force.
"I'd like to see you deal with being the target of Death Eaters who want to torture you to death. It's not the clear picture you seem to paint." Harry growled, his temper roused past his grief.
"Oh, don't act like I don't know what it's like to face Death eaters, it's you that we followed into the department of mysteries where we all almost died." Ginny retorted, her voice now rising.
"Obviously you don't remember well, it's not the clear cut choice of your life or your friend's. You do what you can, but you're never in control." Harry's voice rose to match the young Weasley. Mrs. Weasley stepped between them, raising her arms and saying, "Calm down, both of you, there's no reason to argue." Ginny paused.
"I suppose you're right, nothing I say can pierce his shell of arrogance." something about that sentance made Harry very afraid, afraid that it was true.
"And he has all of you under his spell so fast that you can't see that he'll doom us all." Ginny said, looking at her assembled family. With that she stormed back up the stairs and slammed the door to her room. Funny, thought Harry, that he was both the only hope for the entire Wizarding world and likely the Muggle world as well, yet he was also it's doom. It was a rather dry joke.
The room was quiet after Ginny left. All eyes were on Harry. Harry stared dully ahead, wondering what it was he had done in a past life to deserve the horribly scarred life he was leading. Then again, maybe it was this life that he was building up a debt to be paid back in his next life. It was Ron who finally broke the silence.
"You know none of us believe her, right mate?" he asked, hopeful that he wouldn't get mad at them as well because of what Ginny had said.
"She's right though." Harry said quietly.
"Are you mad? You don't mean for those people to die... do you?" Ron said uncertainly.
"Of course I don't, but a suprising number of people die because of me." Harry spoke in a flat voice. "Wherever I go, people start dying."
No one had anything to say to this. Harry sighed heavily, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, but I would rather stay here than get thrown out, but if you think your family needs to be strong together and I'd get in Ginny's way then I'd be happy to go." Harry wasn't even finished when five redhaired heads were already shaking to indicate a negative.
"You're one of us Harry, Ginny will come around soon." Mrs. Weasley assured.
"I'd trust you with my life, Harry, you've been my best mate from day one. That isn't gonna change now." Ron said seriously.
Harry opened his mouth, but choked on his words. "Thank you" is what he meant to say, but when he couldn't say it, it was too little to express what he felt. About George, about Ginny, about their enduring friendship throughout the years. Those words were too little so instead he pulled Ron into a tight embrace. Physically was the only way of expressing what he couldn't say verbally. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and Percy were joining in as well. Tears sprang from nowhere and they seemed to appear in everybody's eyes at the same time. They were not a mass of people hugging and crying, they were a single unit, a family, mourning one who had passed beyond the veil. Ginny sat on the floor in her darkened room, in the small space between the bed and the wall.
* * *
The rest of the day passed quickly and quietly for the residents of the Burrow. With the exception of the youngest of them they all sat comfortably around the family room telling stories about the deceased. It was a strange mixture of humor and sorrow. Percy seemed to be trying to make up for lost time with his family members, knowing that any of them could be dead before long and not wanting anybody else to die without being able to clear the air between them. It struck Harry how different this mourning was from his own mourning over Sirius. The focus seemed to be on healing and fond rememberance, rather than a self-feeding spiral of blame and recriminations. Reflecting on this summer he realized that his situation and additude had probably caused some deep emotional scarring. After dinner he begged off sitting with them more by telling them that he was very tired and wanted some rest. He hoped none of them saw the bag of dinner rolls and lamb leg he had nicked. Acending to the second floor landing he didn't hesitate before knocking lightly on Ginny's tightly shut door.
"Go away." was the only response he got.
"It's Harry..." Harry began, knowing he would be interrupted, which he was.
"I don't want to talk to you. Go away." He heard from the other side of the door. It was nothing more than he expected, which was why he had taken the food.
"I have food, for you." Harry said gently, inoffensively. There was a slight pause before he heard a half-hearted
"I'm not hungry. Go away." Ignoring her a third time he instead responded to the first half of the sentance.
"Even so, you need to eat, when was the last time you ate?" Harry heard a noncommittal response.
"If I had to guess," Harry continued, "You haven't eaten since you heard about George." There was only silence in response.
"And when you heard, at first you didn't want to believe it, that it was one of Fred's tricks, that he'd tell you about it and laugh at your gullibility. But that wasn't happening, he was telling the whole family, and when nobody laughed and George didn't jump out to suprise everyone you realized the worst was true." No sound came from Ginny's room, so Harry continued.
"You got angry then, at the Death Eaters who did it, maybe at your parents for letting them join the order, most likely at me, for being the catalyst to their meeting. I think you got so angry you broke something, but that only made you more angry. Nothing could satisfy your anger because nothing you could break could bring back your brother. Once your anger wore itself out you felt pain, a seemingly unending ocean of pain so wide you don't see the end even in the distance, so deep you feel as if it will sweep you away down and down forever. Now you are trying to push emotions away from you because you feel like they are what caused you the pain. If you never loved George you never would have had to feel so horribly." Harry was near to tears himself, but choked them back in order to finish. "But a lack of emotion hurts as much as emotion ever could... I know all of this because I just went through this, I know how you feel because I still feel the same way myself."
The door cracked open slightly, Ginny's face appeared, tearstreaked, and lacking the coldness he saw there before. She opened it more fully and held out her hand mutely. Harry compliantly gave her the bag of food. She stepped away from the door, leaving it open. Harry took a deep breath and a chance, stepping in behind her.
"I guess you deserve to talk as long as it takes me to eat." Ginny said, still cautious of Harry. She took a large bite of a roll, as if to speed him along to his point.
"I want you to rejoin the family tomorrow." Ginny looked at him sharply, "Just because the rest of this family is pretending like you're a Weasley doesn't mean you are, don't think of yourself as one of us." Harry was silent for a moment, then repeated himself.
"I want you to rejoin your family tomorrow." This time Ginny sighed, took another bite and chewed slowly before responding.
"I don't see why you would want me with you, I don't want to be anywhere near you." Ginny picked up the piece of lamb and tore off a chunk.
"If your presence requires my absence, so be it." Harry said immediately. Ginny looked up at him, suprised. She gave him a measuring look before cautiously responding.
"Why do you want me to rejoin my family so badly?" Ginny asked neutrally, a touch of suspicion in her voice.
"Because I don't want you to go through this pain alone, with your brothers you can move towards healing."
"And if I requested you vacate yourself you would do so?" Ginny asked, Harry simply nodded.
"So you don't need healing yourself then? So you never cared about George at all." Ginny said maliciously, catching him in a trap. Harry sighed, looking down at his hands, spread palms up.
"It's not that, it's that..." Harry hesitated, "Well, I guess some people deserve to heal their wounds, but others can't afford that luxury."
Ginny looked at him with different eyes, "You mean that you're not even trying to recover from Sirius?" Harry stood up suddenly.
"Good night Ginny." and he left before Ginny could call him back.
Harry took a moment to reorient himself outside her door before slowly climbing the rest of the steps up to Ron's bedroom where he'd be sleeping. He really was tired, perhaps it was that his wounds had not yet fully healed, maybe it was just all the emotion of the day had worn him out. As he settled down onto a matress set up for him on Ron's floor he looked to his hands again. To him they were stained by the blood of those who had died because of him. He etched into his mind a list of those who had died because of his presance.
James Potter
Lily Potter
Cedric Diggory
Sirius Black
Rodolphus Lestrange
Jericho Diggory
George Weasley
Harry hoped that the list would not grow longer, but he knew there was at least one name he would need to add. He hoped Voldemort's name would be the last he would ever add to this list.
AN: sorry about formatting and spelling. Without a beta reader or a normal word processer I have to do my best.