A/N: Some of you may have been a little confused by the first chapter, which would explain why I had 147 hits but only one review. (Thanks Fire Princess of Slytherin!) That chapter was the only one of its kind, and was necessary to set-up the rest of the story. It's explained a bit in this chapter, but please, whether you're confused or not, review this story and let me know what you think!

Harry escaped into the Burrow to avoid shaking any more hands or meeting any more new people. Sighing, he sank out of sight beside the sofa. Bill and Fleur's wedding was beautiful, and the reception was going wonderfully. He was happy for them, but he couldn't stand being around that big of a crowd.

Harry's head dropped wearily against the sofa, but he quickly pulled it up again. There was a damp spot on the upholstery.

"What in the name of Merlin?" he wondered, pressing his hand against the spot. He sniffed experimentally but couldn't identify a scent. From the corner of his eye, he saw a corner of white under the sofa and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

Unfolding it, Harry noted Ginny's handwriting, and folded it again. It would be an invasion of her privacy to read it. He thought about his former girlfriend and realized that she had been very quiet today. All through the ceremony, standing with Fleur in the pale green dress and staring sadly, yet almost resigned at her flowers. Harry discovered he couldn't place her at the reception at all, and a warning bell sounded in his head.

He quickly unfolded the paper and began reading.

Ginny took several deep breaths and pointed her dad's old wand at herself. For an hour and a half she had tried, but couldn't seem to say the two words that could end it all.

"Ginny!"

Panicked, she stared wildly at the door. Harry was pounding on it frantically, and the nerve she had worked up came crashing back down.

"Ginny! Open the door!" he cried desperately.

Cursing the Fates individually and by name, Ginny stalked to the door and jerked it open, glaring at Harry. He glared right back and pushed his way into the room.

"What do you want, Harry?" Ginny snapped.

"I found this behind the sofa," he informed her, holding up the bit of parchment.

Ginny's heart skipped a beat, but she feigned ignorance. "So? What about it?"

"I read it."

She shut the door and stared at him with a mild interest.

"So it was addressed to you?"

Harry's hand shook, he was so upset. "You know it wasn't. I recognized your handwriting and realized you were a bit off today, so I read it."

Ginny laughed bitterly. "You managed not to see it before then, Harry. Forgive me if I don't swoon, since there was a reason it was under the sofa and not sitting on it. Bugger off."

He reached for her, "Talk to me, Gin."

Ginny dodged his grasp and stared out the window at the reception in the back garden.

"I have nothing to say, Harry, I've made my decision."

"You've made the wrong decision!" Harry shouted.

Ginny's eyes flashed angrily as she turned to face him. "You don't know everything! Who are you to say I've made the wrong decision?"

Harry balled his hands into fists, and released them again. "I never said I knew everything!" he shouted in return. "But I do know that your death isn't going to make anyone happy."

Ginny looked away. "Maybe not at first, but once I'm not in the way anymore..."

Harry came behind her and grasped her upper arms so she couldn't elude him.

"No," he said, and she could hear the pleading in his voice. "Damn it, Gin, people need you. I need you."

"Harry, what good am I?" she cried softly.

He kissed her firmly and felt her clinging desperately to him, tears pouring down her cheeks.

When she could, Ginny murmured, "I really didn't want to be saved."

"I know," Harry whispered in return.

They kissed again, each kiss growing more desperate and frenzied until Ginny noticed they were on the bed.

"Harry, we can't do this."

He gazed at her intently, barely holding her. Harry knew he should let it lie, but he felt so dead lately, and Ginny made him feel so alive.

"I would never make you do something you didn't want to do."

"It's not that, I want to feel alive with you," she told him, unknowingly echoing his thoughts. "But we're doing this for the very worst reasons."

"No, Gin," he said, kissing her again. "For the best."

If anyone noticed them missing from the reception, they never mentioned it.