Harry cradled his cheeks in his hands and wondered. Wondered what he had gotten himself into, why he couldn't accomplish what he had set out to do, and why it had to be him.
He hadn't slept in days and his search for the horcruxes was going terribly. He hadn't gotten a good lead in two weeks and was being constantly hunted by Death Eaters.
He missed Ginny too. So many times had he wondered how she was doing, how she was holding up. So many times had he written her letters full of his love for her, letters that could not be sent for fear of being found. He kept them as a sort of diary, in ink that could be read only by his or Ginny's eyes. He had intentions of letting her see them, whether he showed them to her, or she found them among his things if he didn't make it.
Death was constantly on Harry's mind. He frequently repeated the prophecy to himself. Neither can live while the other survives. One of them would die in the end. One of them would have to kill. Voldemort was much more powerful, much more experienced at killing. The only thing Harry had on his side was the burning desire for revenge, and love. Harry didn't think that it was much of power, not nearly enough of one to match Voldemort. Yet Dumbledore seemed to believe in it, and Harry believed in Dumbledore.
Harry thought about Dumbledore a lot. He missed him just as much, maybe even more than Sirius. Dumbledore had been Harry's mentor, his advisor, his teacher, and his friend. Many times had Harry had the desire to ask Dumbledore for advice, guidance, but then realized that his old friend was not there, Harry was alone. Every father figure in Harry's life had died to save him. James had died protecting him, Sirius came to his rescue, Dumbledore gave up his defense to keep Harry hidden. Harry was alone. No more protection. Loyal friends who would die to save him, but no more adults, no more protection. Harry was alone and that feeling wore down on him every day.
Harry lifted his head from his hands and looked around the cave he had been hiding in for the past week. Ron and Hermione lay cuddled together, there breathing synchronized as they slept peacefully. Harry was glad to see two people in love, it made him feel better, even with the world around him being overtaken by evil.
Harry flicked his wand and the rock softened beneath him. He thought of Ginny, Dumbledore, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and all the people that had, or continued to give him joy in all of his angst and he thought that maybe, just maybe, he would sleep tonight.