Where is Harry? I lie in this bloody bed, wondering the same question over and over again. Where the hell would he be? I turn to my side. Why am I here in this Hospital Wing? The truth is Pomfrey is worried about me – they all are. Not about falling down the stairs but because they know how lost I am without Harry now.

I sit up. It's so empty in here. I think deeply for a minute – what am I doing here? I could just get up and leave. Try find Harry myself. Maybe I can help. What good am I doing here? What good am I doing here? Any school work I miss, I can just catch up on. I always do.

Plans start to formulate in my head. I can just go. Nobody would suspect me of doing anything bad. And I'm not. I have to try do something for Harry.

I'm up and out of bed, without a second thought. Everyone's in class. I couldn't tell Ron, even if I wanted to. But do I? No point thinking about it now. Once in my room, I throw my wand, Muggle money, Wizarding Money and my toothbrush into a bag and sling it over my shoulder. I haven't got an invisibility cloak but it'd be very handy right about now. I'm going to have to steal a broom from the school! I'm scared. I don't like breaking rules. It feels wrong.

It's relatively easy though. Everyone's in class. I bump into Snape. He's suspicious of me but has no real proof I'm up to anything. He allows me to pass. I can feel his eyes on me until I turn the corner. I'm flustered and uncertain at this point but I have to keep going. Nothing's going to stop me now.

I go to the broom closet and don't spend too long picking out a broom. I know little about brooms but the one I pick isn't too shaky or slow, once I'm up in the air. I've checked with Hogwarts: a History half a dozen times and I can definitely fly out of school, although I will not be able to fly back in. I don't know how I'll get back in undetected but I suppose that doesn't matter right now, does it?

Once I'm in the air and out of Hogwarts, I'm struck with more uncertainty. Where will I go? Where would Harry be? But Voldemort doesn't have him so he's out there somewhere, alive.

I'll go to Dursleys', I decide. It's time to find out what happened to Harry. Dumbledore's been most mysterious, as of late. I've been calling to his quarters but I can't get in because I don't know the password. He knows I'm there, I know he does, but he's ignoring me and I don't know why. He talked to Ron yesterday. He's talked to Ron a lot more than me. It's like he can't look at me or something. Why?

But Dumbledore's not the issue here, Harry is. I jump off my broom and leave it in an alleyway, once I'm in the train station. I have to be a Muggle now. I can't let Dumbledore or Voldemort or whoever else trace me.

Ha…. Voldemort trace me. That's funny. But yet an attack has been made on the Weasleys' (Dumbledore got the Weasleys' out of the house before any real damage was done) and Dumbledore's resources (Snape?) says that they are looking to "punish anyone of Harry Potter's allies." Voldemort wants to weaken Harry or at least that's what I think. But Dumbledore says that it's "improbable" that I'm in any danger. Well, so McGonagall said in a letter to me in the summer. Dumbledore never really seems to have time for Ron and me – just Harry. Always Harry. Only now, after his disappearance, has he seemed to make a proper effort to assure us.

I get on a bus that leads me on my way. After a ten minute walk after the bus ride, I arrive outside Harry's real home, the place he grew up. Ron and the Weasleys have been here but not me. I never had this displeasure of actually meeting the Dursleys properly but I know how much Harry has hated them all his life. But… so much as to kill his uncle?

The front door is locked and I can't use my wand. I walk around back and, after a bit of fidgeting and squirming, I manage to get into an open window.

And now I'm in the Dursleys'. The only thing I really notice is the immaculate cleanliness of the place. It's so… normal. I explore the kitchen with mild curiosity. This is Harry's home, apart from Hogwarts! This is where he ate, he where he sat, where he grew up, where he killed his uncle?

No, that's in the Living Room. A small line of yellow police tape signifies Vernon Dursley's death place. The Living Room is not quite so clean. It's obvious there was a fight here. Nothing has stirred since the murder.

A sudden sound behind me. A footstep. An intake of breath.

"Harry?"

I step forward. Forward again. My hands are out stretched. One more step and my hands meet something solid. I feel it for one more second, breathing quickly, then slowly pull the invisibility cloak off of him.

"Harry…"

I stare. Harry… I've never seen him like this. He's wearing filthy jeans and a huge tee shirt. Dudley's left overs, as always. His hair is wild, wilder than mine, and quite long. He has a healing black eye and dirt all over him. He smells quite strange, wild and primitive. His eyes are bloodshot, his face deadly pale, his mouth open, staring at me. There's dried blood on his hands.

"And so she comes, the first friend to be gone. 'Cause I was bold, wasn't I? I am bad." He looks at his hands and his voice lowers. "Oh, so dirty. Nobody knows it was the right thing to do, the big man had to stop shouting…"

"Harry? Oh, Harry." He's ranting, like he's insane. People don't lose their minds, do they? Not so easily? But Harry's been through so much now. It must be too much. He's killed his uncle, hasn't he? He's… not like he used to be.

I don't care. He's still Harry. I throw my arms around him. He's so cold but I don't care. He's still. He does not hug me back. He seems to be a statue, a statue of ice and little more.

"It'll be okay, Harry. I'll help you."

"She talks, hahaha, she talks. But I can see the disgust in her eyes. Well done Harry, she says, new nickname. No longer the Boy-Who-Lived, now he's the Boy-Who-Killed." He pushes me off him, hands on my shoulders, shakes me hard. "Listen to the angel sing words she does not understand. What'll be okay? Me? Life, in the coffin? Who'll help who? Can I help you?"

I stare. He stares back. There's no more ranting from him as I look at him. I feel a terrible tiredness ache at me from within. Look at what he, my friend, has been reduced to.

"Harry," I say slowly, a lump in my throat. "Do you know who I am? I'm Her-mi-on-nee Gran-ger. I'm one of your best friends. The other is Ron Weas-ley. We're both very worried about you. I came to find you. I'm here to help you."

He slaps me suddenly, a strong slap. My head snaps to the side, my eyes shut. "Bitch! You shouldn't be here. You should… be with them." His voice turns low.

I snap my head back to him. I can feel my cheek reddening. I open my eyes; the sight of him hurts me.

"You should leave." His voice is little more than a whisper now, by contrast to before. His hand rises up to my reddening cheek slowly, close, as if he wants to touch me but can not. "You should go now." His eyes go from my cheek to my eyes. "I'm not like you. I know that and so do you."

I hate how true those words are, because he isn't like me or any normal person. He never has been. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who is to kill Voldemort. He'll always be separate to us all, has been ever since that scar became one of his features. His separation from us all has caused all this. He's not like us. He's not like me.

I step away from me. I was wrong. I can't help him. I can't handle him, it hurts too much. "I-I'm going back to Dumbledore, Harry, and I want you to come with me."

"No!" His lingering hand snaps back to his side. "No! I'm not supposed to live in a cage, I haven't done anything. Oh yes, oh yes, I have, I know I have, but I won't… not again, not a cage. Not to be caged."

"Dumbledore will not put you in a cage!" He is close to me, I'm in his face. It's all too much. I'm shouting.

"Yes, he will," he shouts right back at me.

"I would never let that happen to you!"

"How could you stop him? How could we all stop him? We couldn't stop people being killed... couldn't stop him from being killed! What can we do, but make mistakes?"

"Who did he not stop being killed?" I yell. "Your Godfather or your uncle?"

It's like a snap happens between us. We had been in each other's faces screaming but now we're away from each other, baking away. We can't be near each other any longer. Because it's a good question, an unanswerable one. I look away because I can see a horrible spark or emotion in his eyes.

"Everyone. I killed them all," he mutters. I don't answer. He didn't kill Sirius but he had been very foolish. And the fact of the matter is he did kill his uncle. What can I reply?

He looks back to me. He no longer looks insane but there's an awful sadness about him. "I killed them all. Everybody…" He turns away from me so he's facing the wall. His forehead rests against the wall. I watch him, fighting back my own tears at what he's become. I have t be strong now, I can cry later.

"Please don't tell them where I am. I don't want them to see me. Not yet."

Weakly, I give in. "I won't, Harry, I promise."

"You should go," he says. "The devil is sure to be here soon. You… you should go home."

"I'm not going to Hogwarts without you," I say with a good try at calmness.

"No, to your real home. It could help…"

"Help what?" Please, just talk to me.

He says nothing. He looks like part of the furniture as if he has no life left in him. I stare at him for a long time before a long time before finally moving. "I'll be back," I say but I know I'll get no reply. I leave the house. Once outside, I start breathing again. Will he be here when I get back? I think he will be. After all, he has no where else to really go.

I get the bus. My heart pounds. My thoughts are completely on Harry but I don't go back to him. I'm travelling to my house. I have to go on two different buses to get there; it's a good bit away. Before I'm on the second bus though, I know what I'll see.

I see it as I walk up my road but I keep walking anyway, until my feet are firmly in front of the remainder of my house, ashes, soot, blackness all around. My house… Gone. I can smell the death in the air. And the magic. More yellow tape circle the house, just like at the Dursleys' house. I stand outside there for a long time. It has started to rain but I do not care. Everything…. Everything is gone.

I know instinctively that my parents are dead. Death Eaters must have come and…

A neighbour has seen me. Mrs Barret. She's holding me, talking, mothering me. Going on about how cold I must be. She takes me into her house, throws a blanket over my shoulders, and pushes a cup of tea into my hand. I say nothing.

She keeps calling me a poor, sweet child.

"How long?" I say, at last. My voice sounds scratchy, unfamiliar.

"Five days ago, dear. You, you did know, right, dear?"

I find myself nodding although I obviously didn't. I ignore all her questions about where I'm staying, what I would like to eat, more tear and just sit there, staring into eternal blankness.

Eventually, I ask, "Where are they now? Did they… Did they, their bodies, get…out? I can't believe I've just asked that about my parents. Numb.

"No dear. They had passed then but there hadn't been a mark on them."

Definitely Death eaters then.

"Where are they now? My parents?" My voice is sharp.

"New graveyard, down the road, fifteen minutes away, beside the old park."

I stand up and leave the house, shrugging off the blanket, without one word to her. I am walking towards the graveyard but I'm not ready yet. I see the bus, the bus that'll lead me on my journey back to Harry and get on.

I'm at the Dursleys' after a sudden blur of buses, walking and no thoughts of anything. I push open the back door just as before, without a thought. A thin woman and big boy are there. Petunia and Dudley Dursley, no doubt. They stare at me. The woman says something in a shrill voice but my head is buzzing too loudly to hear her.

"Harry!" I shriek, once in the hallway. Petunia and Dudley run to the hallway, gripping on to each other. I hear a footstep beside me and, with a sudden burst on energy, pull off the cloak, revealing him.

I can feel no emotion now.

"You," the woman hisses at Harry. "You killed Vernon; after all he did to you…"

I don't care about this woman or her fat child. "Get out, both of you." I realise that my wand is pointing at them. They scatter off, glancing nervously at the wand.

I turn it to his neck but he's already walking away, to the Living Room. I follow him, head buzzing so loudly, disenabling me to think. He has ducked under the yellow tape and is standing at the roped off area, the place where Vernon Dursley had once lay, after being murdered. He turns to face me, saying, "So many deaths

"You knew?" My voice is shuddering. "You knew my parents were dead?"

"All these deaths, all my fault," he whispers, shaking his head.

"How did you know?" My voice sounds so far away.

"I ran after everthing… my uncle. I thought you'd be there… at your house, but the house was on fire. I watched Mommy and Daddy being taken, not burnt but dead, with two little marks on them, just like this one." he taps his forehead, smiling grimly. "Everyone's died, because of me. I should make a list. The list of the Boy-Who-Killed."

"My parents are dead."

"You didn't know?"

"Dumbledore didn't tell me." That's why he wouldn't talk to me. But why? Why didn't he tell me? I needed to know…

"My parents are dead. Mom and Dad are dead." Oh god. My legs fall. I have no legs anymore. I have nothing. I've never felt so lost in my life. Everything inside me is broken, like shards of glass cutting me inside out.

He catches me before I meet the ground. I sink to the floor slowly, as does he, supporting my weight. He holds me in his arms and I press against him. It all comes at me, it's all too much. I'm crying, shaking, coughing, spluttering. My eyes and nose are running. I'm crying so much, it sounds like I'm laughing. He holds me, perfectly still, but if I look at his face, I can see the two fat tears rolling down his face.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…" he whispers, his face in my hair. It feels like it's just me and him at the edge of the world. My whole life is breaking apart and all the pieces are being lost forever. I know nothing but these tears. I feel nothing but Harry around me. My feelings are nothing but a shrieking pain coming from somewhere inside my chest.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"

My favourite chapter so far! This took me ages to write so please, please, please, give me a couple of reviews. Personal thanks in the next chapter.