Harry's face was tense, his green eyes anxious as he came up to me the day after Bill's wedding. We were all staying at the Weasley's house, at least until we found ourselves a better base of operations to go looking for the Horcruxes. I'd known better than to suggest that we use Grimmauld Place, there were too many bad memories associated with Sirius' last home.

I knew what was coming. How could I not, when I'd been the one that Ginny had come to for solace after he'd dumped her? His face was exactly as she'd described it, the same as it had been when he'd tried to talk Ron and I out of coming with him after Dumbledore died. Harry never had been that aware of what his face revealed to others.

It still hurt when he tried to tell me that I shouldn't come with him. He spoke eloquently, for him at least, about how I would be safer at Hogwarts, how he'd feel better if he knew I was somewhere out of the line of fire, how I could research things for him there. He even tried to tell me that he'd feel guilty about taking me away from school, given how much he knew I liked learning.

I'd planned on being rational in my objections, but I lost it. I screamed at him, livid that he was trying this again. He knew I was his friend and that I'd already decided to stay with him. He knew me, he should have remembered that I'd already weighed the consequences. He should have known that as a muggleborn and a friend of his, I was already a target. He should know that Hogwarts could not be considered safe anymore, not after Dumbledore. And did he really think that he and Ron could find all the Horcruxes by themselves, and find ways of destroying them safely without me along? Neither one of them knew the first thing about research or planning. I threw all of my well-reasoned, well-thought-out arguments for me to stay with him, even if my tone was definitely not reasonable.

But I didn't tell him the main reason that I wanted to be with him, the reason that turned all my rational arguments into mere excuses. I didn't tell him that I loved him too much to let him risk himself like this without me there to try to protect him. I didn't tell him that if I wasn't there, I'd drive myself mad with worry, that I'd be worse than useless anywhere else. Right now, Harry wouldn't want my love, wouldn't be able to deal with the distraction it would cause. And ever since I was eleven, what has been the best for Harry has been my main priority.

My temper tantrum worked, as I knew it would. Harry's never been that good at dealing with me when I get upset, and rationally he knew he needed me there with him. He gave in, patted me awkwardly on the back as I moved from anger into tears, and left as fast as he could.

I smiled, ignoring the tearstains on my cheeks. I would be there for Harry, regardless of anything he might say on the matter. I loved him enough to use his faults against him, if it meant that I would be there to protect him.