Chapter Two: The Middle

Seventeen year old Harry Potter, a grim look on his face, strode through the front doors of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, into the Entrance Hall in time to see the bright red head disappear up the staircase.

Why did his life have to be so... difficult?

Ginny Weasley didn't even look back at him. Not that she had any reason to. She was dating Dean Bloody Thomas, after all.

The three weeks he'd spent at the Burrow had been a damned nightmare. Eventually, he and Ron had made some excuse and headed for Hermione's house for the last week. Her parents had been welcoming, but Harry found everything there, from the daisies in the front garden, to the regular, quiet mealtimes, rather annoying.

And it didn't help that Ron and Hermione were making weird eyes at each other. Since Ron and Luna had split last June, Harry had had his suspicions about his two best friends. He was quite certain, though, that they hadn't figured it out yet.

And now, final year. And hopefully he'd then be able to get this stupid prophecy over with and then leave. He wasn't quite sure where he would go, but so long as it was as far away from Ginny Weasley as it was possible to be, he didn't much care.

If only he could take her with him...

Now, that kind of thinking was what got me into this mess, he thought.

Why couldn't she just have been honest with me? Why did she have to lead me on, then abandon me when it got difficult?

Because, she's fifteen years old. Well... sixteen now, but she WAS fifteen. And she didn't have a clue as to what was truly expected of him. But all I asked for was for us to put our relationship on hold until I could get...

He remembered the scene vividly.

"Ginny," he had said. "I really, really, need to concentrate on this for now. Dumbledore says..."

"Harry?" she looked up at him. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No..." he shook his head. "No. Really... I just need some time to concentrate on what I need to do, and while we're..."

"What...?"

"Together..." Harry hesitated. "My mind isn't where it should be."

"I see," she said. "Okay, Harry. If that's what you need."

He had thought she had understood.

But then, maybe she did, the evil little voice at the back of his mind said. You've always been too much of a risk, Potter.

"Harry?" Ron said, coming from behind to stand next to him. "You okay, mate?"

"Yes..." Harry pulled his eyes away from the long red hair moving further away and looked at his friend. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"I don't know why she did it, Harry," Ron said softly. "But she's my sister..."

"I know, Ron. It's okay."

"No, it's not," Ron said. "But I can't do anything about it."

"I don't expect you to anything about it," Harry said firmly. "Where is Hermione?"

"Coming... she had to find that bloody cat..."

Harry smiled. Yes, seventh year would be what they made it. And he was going to make sure it was good.

"Mione, I'm so sorry..." Harry sat next to her on the common room couch, his arms around her as she cried.

"Harry? Harry, I just heard.... where is..." Ron flew through the portrait hole, stopping dead as he saw the two of them on the couch. "Hermione?"

She continued to sob into Harry's shoulder, and Ron came to kneel in front of them.

"I'm so very, very sorry, Mione...." Ron whispered, placing his hands on her knees. "Dear Merlin..."

Harry felt the burn of anger begin to engulf him. The news had come less than an hour ago, and he had been concentrating on Hermione since then. Ron had been off somewhere, probably at the Quidditch pitch, and Harry had held Hermione while Dumbledore and McGonagall had given her the news.

There had been an attack in Southhampton. Her home was gone. Her parents were dead. The three of them sat there long into the night, and after Mione fell into a restless slumber, held by the two boys, Harry and Ron looked at each other, their eyes hardening, and a silent promise was made.

Voldemort would pay, and they would be the ones to extract that payment.

NEWTS were harder than Harry had believed possible. Even Mione was cracking under the strain, and Harry and Ron had taken to flying their brooms early in the morning over the Quidditch pitch just to relax.

Harry was flying early one morning alone, Ron having chosen to stay in bed as it was Saturday, when he noticed a brown head in the stands, watching him.

Hermione.

Flying down, he landed in front of her, and smiled.

"Good morning," he said. "You're up early."

"I don't sleep much lately," she said.

He propped his broom against the bench and sat down next to her, taking off the Quidditch gloves that she had given him the year before for Christmas.

"No," he said. It was all that he really needed to say.

"Harry, can I ask you a question?" she asked softly.

"Of course, Mione."

"I don't want to hurt you," she said softly.

"Mione, you can ask me anything."

"What's it like to be alone?"

"Alone?"

"You know..." she colored. "Without family?"

"Well," Harry smiled sadly. "I'm not really."

"I know, you have your aunt and her family, but..."

"No, Mione... I didn't mean them. I meant you. And Ron," he took a breath. "And the rest of the Weasley family... I'm not alone."

"I..." she took a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "I am. Now. I don't have anyone, now, Harry."

"Of course you do," Harry put his arm around her. "You have me, Hermione. We have each other."

"I never had a brother," she laughed through her tears.

"Well, you do now, anytime you want him." Harry gave her a squeeze. "I can't bring them back, Mione. I wish I could, but I can't. But I'll do my best to make him pay for this, I promise you that."

Hermione was silent, but rested her head against his shoulder.

"And you'll be my big brother?" she asked a few moments later, not moving.

"I already am," Harry said quietly. "In all the ways that count, Mione."

"I'd do anything for you, Harry," she said softly. "Anything. Ron and I... even Ginny. We'd do anything to help you. You know that."

"I know, Mione."

"So don't try to do it alone, okay?"

"Okay."

They managed to get through the final exams of their final year. Two weeks before the end of term, Harry was called into Dumbledore's office.

"Sir?"

"Harry, sit down."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, Harry. I just wanted to let you know that the final arrangements have been made for your training."

"Oh..." Harry nodded.

"Also, as you'll be leaving school in the next few weeks, I wanted to make sure that you had everything you needed for going on with..."

"I... I won't be returning to my aunt's home, sir."

Dumbledore stilled, turning to look at Harry curiously.

"I didn't expect you to, Harry."

"Mr and Mrs Weasley have been kind enough to offer me a place to stay for a while..."

"Would that be comfortable for you, Harry?" Dumbledore's voice softened.

"I.... sir?"

"I've noticed that Miss Weasley has been spending rather a lot of time in the company of Mr Thomas. Are you sure you want to return to the Burrow?"

Harry sighed. "It's not like I have a lot of choice, sir. I need a few days, at least, to find a place to live..."

"I don't imagine that that is going to be a problem, Harry."

"Sir?"

"Harry, headquarters is yours."

"What?"

"Harry... the headquarters of the Order in London belongs to you as of your seventeenth birthday. It's Potter Manor. You have a home, and quite a nice one if I do say so."

Harry couldn't wait to return to the common room and tell Ron and Hermione. Hermione especially had been worried about where she would go. Molly had told both of them they were welcome at the Burrow, but now, Harry had a home, and Hermione would, as well, as soon as he found her.

He found them studying together in front of the fire.

"Ron, Hermione... you'll never guess.."

"Harry, slow down!" Hermione looked up. "What is it?"

"I met with Dumbledore..."

"He told you about your training?" Ron asked excitedly.

"Yes, but that's not the best part..."

He told them of Potter Manor, of the things in it that Dumbledore had told him his parents had left for him.

"But what about training, Harry?"

Harry's grin died. "It's not going to be easy, Ron. I'm not sure I'll be able to do it. Dumbledore has made arrangements for me to go through auror training, but to do it in only one year..."

"One year?" Hermione gasped. "Harry, it's not possible!"

"Yes, it is," Harry said. "But it's going to be seven days a week, eighteen hour days, without a break, for the entire year."

"You can't do that!" Ron said.

"I have to, Ron," Harry said grimly. "I don't have a choice. Voldemort..."

All three were silent for a moment. Then, Harry stood and flexed his shoulders. "I need to get some sleep. Potions exam first thing, and I have to get a good mark."

"Good night, Harry," Hermione's concerned eyes followed him up the stairs. When he disappeared, she turned to Ron. "What are we going to do, Ron?"

Ron's eyes hardened. "I'm going to go and talk to Dumbledore. If Harry has to do it, at least he won't have to do it alone. I'm going to train with him."

As he headed towards the portrait hole, Hermione was right behind him.

"Mione?" Harry's voice drifted through the dream. "Mione, it's time to get up. We have to meet Kingsley and Tonks downstairs in ten minutes..."

"Mmm... morning, Harry," she sat up to see Harry's dark, messy head poked around the door to her bedroom in Potter Manor. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Coffee's on, I'll pour you a cup. Hurry, or you won't have time for breakfast."

She glanced at her watch as the door shut softly. Five thirty. She'd only fallen into bed at midnight. After seven months of this, she felt ready to die.

As promised, Harry had coffee made and waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Ron was sitting at the table, shovelling food into his mouth at an alarming rate, and Hermione served herself from the pans on the stove and brought her plate to the table.

That was only one of the things that had changed over the past months. Hermione's normal breakfast of cereal and tea had gone by the wayside, to be replaced with a high-protein eggs and bacon, two slices of wholegrain toast with peanut butter, and milky, sweet coffee.

She was taking in over three thousand calories a day on Tonks' specially planned training diet. Harry and Ron were doing much more than that. They needed the calories, and Hermione had noticed that any remaining softness to her body had turned into solid muscle.

Not to mention what it had done for Harry and Ron. She had run into Ron on her way to the shower last night, as he was coming out, shirtless. She'd been shocked. His boyish figure was gone, and in it's place was an incredibly fit, healthy man.

She blushed just remembering it.

Harry and Ron had both changed, physically. They'd always been in good shape, but both of them had widened across the shoulders, Ron until it seemed he would have to turn sideways to go through a doorway. And Harry's face had hardened, his jaw and cheekbones becoming even more firmly drawn.

They hadn't seen anyone other than Kingsley, Tonks, and Dumbledore in the last seven months, but this weekend...

This weekend was Christmas. While they weren't taking the time to go to the Burrow, the Weasley clan had decided to descend upon them here, where there was plenty of room, to be able to spend the one day they were allowed to take away from their training, Christmas Day, with them. And Hermione was curious as to what the response would be to the changes in them.

Ron was already larger and more muscular than any of his older brothers. They were all in for a surprise, Hermione thought.

Harry, for one, planned to sleep. He didn't particularly care that everyone was planning on visiting, but the last person he wanted to see was Ginny. Ron had told him that Ginny had sent and owl to tell him that Dean had given her a promise ring, and the very, very last thing Harry wanted was to see it, and be forced to congratulate her over it.

He simply couldn't do it without breaking down. He knew it.

In the end, he shouldn't have worried. Ginny didn't come. She had gone to spend Christmas with Dean's family, much to Molly's discomfort. After a short greeting, and apologies to Ron's family, Harry still chose to spend as much of the day as possible asleep.

It was June, and Ginny Weasley sat on the bed in her dorm, wondering how it had all come to this. She was about to leave Hogwarts forever, she was done with her education, and would be joining the staff of St Mungo's as a student nurse in three weeks.

She should be happy. But she was honest enough with herself to know that she wasn't.

She looked down at the framed picture laying on her bed. Colin Creavy had given it to her last year, a week after she and Harry had broken up. Colin, at least, had been capable of interpreting how she felt.

The picture had been taken just after the Cup game. She was in Harry's arms, where she had always thought she was meant to be.

But she'd ruined that, too. Gone and rushed him, when she knew he wasn't ready for what she wanted. Oh, he had wanted it, but he was Harry Potter, and had other things... bigger things... to worry about. He hadn't needed that serious of a relationship that quickly.

And in rushing it, she had lost him.