The next morning was rather quiet in comparison to the events of the prior evening. Hermione had left early to go to work at Hogwarts; Ginny, Fred, and George headed off to Diagon Ally to attend to their shops; Mr. Weasley, Percy, Charlie, and Bill had also gone to work at the Ministry. The only people left inside the Burrow were Molly, Penelope Clearwater, Sirius, Ally, Draco and Ron and Harry (who had decided to take about a week off).

Molly and Penelope were bustling in the kitchen, cleaning and cooking and talking about the latest gossip. Sirius, Draco, Ron, and Harry were in the common room talking about everything that had happened since Sirius died. They joked about this and that, remembered this and that, even hit each other for this and that.

But Ally refused to stay inside with these...these people. They don't love me. Heck, they don't even know me, she thought, walking out onto a different balcony on the other side of the house, which was directly opposite from the one where she and Harry had their conversation. Ally pulled the glass door closed and sighed as she looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was another gift from Hermione - a cream-colored spaghetti-strap dress that reached her knees. She was beginning to wonder if Hermione even remembered what Ally's favorite color was (which, by the way, was definitely not cream and/or white).

"I hate it here," she mumbled, climbing on the balusters for a sit. "Nothing is how it used to be." After Ally found a comfortable seating position on the balusters, she began to gaze at the ground thirty feet below.

Suppose I should just...fall - on accident of course, she thought. I don't think anyone should miss me, and I don't think that - even though they neither love nor know me - they want to me to live my life as miserable as this -

You've only been awake for two days, Ally! she argued with herself. Things can get better -

But will they?

Of course -

You lie!

I do not -

Well, what if things don't get better? What if Ron tries to kill me in my sleep? What if Sirius tells Harry that I'm a no-good, looney woman that shouldn't be given a second chance? What if Hermione abandons me and forces me to live a life that I don't want? What if -

You know that's not what you're really afraid of, Ally.

Ally stopped her thoughts for a moment, her grip on the balusters loosening. She knew, too, that those things weren't what really scared her.

Well, Ally? Are they?

No, she hesitated to think. They aren't what scare me the most...

Then what is it?

Ally? What is it?

Ally, things won't get better until you realize what you're afraid of and face those fears headstrong. Now tell yourself, what are you afraid of most?

ALLY, WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF MOST?

ALLY! her inner voice shrieked at her.

"I'm afraid that Harry really doesn't love me anymore!" she screamed out loud, her grip on the balusters tightening again. Tears were falling from her cheeks, and her loud sobs broke the silence and ended the conversation.

A knock on the glass door made Ally's heart jump. Quickly, she wiped her eyes and got off the balusters onto the balcony. Molly was standing on the threshold, hands on her hips, looking at Ally in surprise.

"Ally! Where have you been all morning? I've been looking for you like a mad woman!" Molly said loudly. "I almost thought you'd gone and locked yourself in that basement cupboard..." she said as she gave Ally a hug. "It's not good to skip breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

Ally didn't say anything. She didn't even give Mrs. Weasley a hug back.

"Ally, it's rude to just stand there while someone is going on and on about how concerned they are for your well-being." Mrs. Weasley stopped, took a step back from Ally and held her hands. Molly noticed that Ally's eyes were red and was sniffling. Sighing quietly, she pulled Ally inside. "Now, come, come. You're probably starving. I saved you some pancakes and sausage. This way, dear," she said, dragging Ally downstairs to the kitchen.

Ally's stomach began to churn as the sound of Harry's voice drew closer with every step she took. "You know, Mrs. Weasley, I thank you for your kindness, but I'm not really all that hungry," Ally politely protested. Truth is, she was starving, but she just didn't want to see Harry.

"Nonsense! I can hear your tummy growling from here!" Molly insisted. "Besides, you're going to need your strength today. It's Spring-Cleaning day!"

"But it's November - "

"All right then. It's Winter-Cleaning, but it doesn't really matter what you call it. The point is, we're going to cleaning the whole Burrow today. Why, with all the fuss that's been going around during the past few months, I've unintentionally let the house become a mess!"

"Fuss? What fuss?" Ally asked. Molly pushed Ally down into a chair at the table.

"Penelope, dear, can you please fetch me a plate and a fork? Thank you. The fuss? Oh, yes! The fuss. Well, a few months ago - on July 21, to be exact - our Percy proposed to dear Penelope! I've been planning the wedding and looking for some fancy violin players! And - would you like some syrup to go on your pancakes, dear? Here you are - Penelope and Percy had the brightest idea! Can you guess what it is?"

Ally had already taken three small bites from the pancakes. Honestly, she couldn't havecared less about what Penelope and Percy were up to. She shook her head to be polite.

"Well, they want a Muggle wedding! In Ireland, none the less!" Molly squealed with delight.

"Why Ireland?" Ally asked after taking a sip of water.

"I grew up there," Penelope chimed in.

"Oh. Sounds fun." Ally put her fork down on the table and sighed.

"It was. Oh, I can't wait to be back there!" Penelope said excitedly. "Well, I best be off. My mother's in town for the week and she's taking me dress shopping for the bride's maids!" And with that, Penelope was off.

"Ah, she's a lovely girl, isn't she?" Molly asked Ally.

"A picture," Ally said sarcastically, but Molly didn't notice.

"Well, if you're done eating, then you can go into the shed and get the garden tools."

"Why?"

"You're weeding the garden."

"Me?"

"And Harry."

Ally's heart dropped a million miles and felt like it was falling into the bottemless pit. "But - but, why can't Harry and Sirius do it? Or...or Harry and Ron?"

"Because Sirius and Ron are going to be cleaning up the attic," Molly replied as she took the dishes and placed them in the sink.

"Well, can't you just use magic?"

"In case you haven't noticed, dear, we're trying to do things a little more Muggle-like around here."

"But why?" Ally pleaded.

Molly sighed and leaned against the counter. "Because we're trying to prepare for the wedding. Now, go on. Scoot. Harry's probably waiting for you in the tool shed. Go on."


Ally walked into the tool shed reluctantly. She carefully peeked inside, but Harry wasn't in there yet. Sighing from relief, Ally walked inside and looked around.

There were shovels of all sizes hanging on the wooden walls, some plant fertilizer in the back corner, a few plant pots made from clay, a dying elf-nut tree, some firewood piled messily beside the fertilizer, and a cabinet about five feet right beside the door.

Curious as a cat, Ally opened the cabinet to find two axes, three pocketknives, seven butter knives, sixteen pairs of scissors of varied sizes and colors, a large butcher knife, an elegant glass knife in a plastic container, and a miscellaneous sort of knives in a small box on the bottom-most shelf.

Ally gasped. All those suicidal thoughts from earlier on the balcony came back.

No one will miss you. No one loves you. No one cares about you. No one even knows who you are. Everything that Mrs. Weasley told you was a lie. Hermione probably paid her to say those things so she wouldn't have to deal with your crying and complaining anymore. You are a worthless, repulsive, pointless, useless, insignificant spec of a human being that ever existed. But you know what? You're not even human. You're a witch

Tears were forming in her eyes, and her breathing became loud. Her eyes were focused on the knives.

Go on. Take a knife. Slash your wrists. Cut your neck open. Chop off a piece of your leg. Slice open your stomach. Stab your heart. Take a piece out of your breasts. Pull your eyes out of their sockets. Chop of your tongue. Slash your nose. Destroy yourself. Might as well give yourself another reason to hate yourself. Go on, Ally. Go on.

Ally reached for a knife, and as she reached -

"Ally? What in hell are you doing?"