Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Absolutely not."

Ginny had been arguing out loud with herself for about six minutes, but privately, she'd been going around the issue for a week. Hermione had called a few times, sometimes to apologize for suggesting anything at all, sometimes to rue what she had planted in Ginny's brain, sometimes to glory in what was seeming more and more like a great idea.

In fact, at this point, the only thing standing in the way to Ginny's mind was Harry. She knew Harry would never approve of her traveling anywhere alone, but she also knew that he would never approve of her traveling with anyone but him. And that's probably what bothered Ginny the most: the notion that Harry would have to, in any way, approve of what she was doing. She sighed and continued scrubbing the kitchen floor, as she often did when she was stressed over something.

"Think of everything you and Harry have been through and how good he is to you," she murmured to herself. "You've had good times - and bad, yes, but so does everyone - and you've been together forever. You know this will ruin things."

Ginny paused for a moment, formulating her counter-argument. Against herself. She was losing it. "Well," she said slowly, "some people just can't make it work. Maybe I'm one of those people. Maybe I just need a little more freedom, a little less predictability. The only thing keeping me sane at this point is that stupid art class. I hate Hermione."

"Hermione," Ginny responded - to herself - snappily, "has nothing to do with it. This is all your issue."

"What is?"

Ginny was so startled she practically leapt from the floor. There, in the kitchen doorway, a gentle and somehow sad smile on his face, was Harry. He looked very tired. Ginny got up slowly, her arguments with herself resolving themselves somehow. She was going on this trip. Harry was not going with her. She needed her own time. And although she didn't know what would happen afterwards, she had to tell him that.

"Hi," Harry said, reaching out to her. Ginny gave him a brief kiss, trying to seem detached but not disinterested. She wanted to create the best possible atmosphere for her horrible announcement. Harry's smile turned quickly into a puzzled frown. "Ginny, what is it? I know when I come home and you're scrubbing the floor and talking to yourself that something is wrong."

With a pang, Ginny understood how painful it would be for Harry if things went badly. Maybe she was making her decision too lightly…

Steeling her resolve, she reasoned with herself quickly. She'd been thinking about these issues for a long time. Harry wanted to marry her; she wasn't ready. Harry wanted to be together all the time; she needed her own space.

Harry, Harry, Harry…

"I've got a new offer from the Prophet," Ginny said slowly, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Wow," Harry said after a pause. "Ginny, that's wonderful! Congratulations! I know how much you miss journalism," he added with a wink. "Just being in this old house with me has to be pretty boring."

Ginny sighed. The room seemed chilly all of a sudden. "It's not that it's boring here," she began cautiously. Harry frowned, and Ginny's resolve quavered momentarily. Gathering strength, she continued in a smaller but still sure voice. "I just … I need a break, you know? All my life I've been living either here, or the Burrow. Everywhere else is just places I've been at this point. I have to travel again, Harry. It's in my blood. I … I want to see more art. England only has so much, you know?"

Harry looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he smiled. "That's so like you, Ginny," he said, reaching out and embracing her, "taking every opportunity as it comes." He planted a kiss on the part in her hair and murmured against her scalp, "So, when do we leave?"

Ginny stiffened. Now or never. She was either going to take Hermione's advice or leave it, and, with it, probably her whole life up to this point. She was so terrified. She took a deep breath, trying to calm and focus herself as she had in painting classes, working to manipulate the orbs of color. "Harry," she said slowly, and now her voice was barely above a whisper, "I'm going to go without you."

Mimicking her movement of a moment before, Harry's arms stiffened around her. He pulled back robotically, looking down at her with unreadable eyes. It looked as though the cogs in his head had frozen; Ginny was sure he'd heard her, but wasn't sure he was processing the information. "You … you're leaving me?" he asked.

Ginny opened her mouth, eager to clear the air, but the words caught in her throat. She thought about the decision she was making. If she went alone, it was specifically because she wanted to leave Harry behind. If she didn't want him with her on a trip she hoped would rejuvenate her life … maybe she didn't want him at all. "I don't want you to think of it like that," she said. Harry's arms dropped from her shoulders and he rolled back on his heels, shaking his head slowly. "I just … I want to go on my own, or maybe with someone who will … help me see the art. Harry, please don't be angry. I think we both know things between us have been constricting for a while, and I think we could both use a break."

Harry was silent for a long moment. Ginny's blood felt like ice, but she knew she had to be strong. If she went back now, she could never move forward. "I've had a feeling for a while that things were bad," Harry said finally, enunciating each word separately. He paused again before meeting Ginny's eyes. "I had wanted to work to fix them, and I thought … I thought it was better. I was trying to meet your needs." There was a third pause. "Is it someone else?"

Ginny was taken aback. "What on earth? Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "I just don't know why else you would just suddenly want to leave me! We haven't been fighting nearly as much lately, and I thought I was being good to you-"

"Harry, it's not like that," Ginny interrupted, but Harry continued.

"Is it someone else?"

Ginny froze. Her blood, just beginning to feel heated under her skin, slowed to a gelatinous, icy crawl. She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell Harry that she wasn't just leaving him because she wanted someone else, but even as she opened her mouth to deny her boyfriend, someone else crept into her mind. "Harry, it isn't like that," she repeated, robotic, her voice low and cracked. "I just … I just need some space. I think we need a break, maybe look at some other options, focus on ourselves…"

Harry looked sad almost beyond recognition. Ginny had never seen him look so depressed before. There was a very, very long pause. "I can't argue," Harry said finally. He wouldn't look at her. Ginny felt like even if he had been, she couldn't have met his eyes. "Things have been different between us for a while. I'm still happy, but I can tell you're not." Another, smaller pause, as if he were gathering courage. Then, finally, he looked at Ginny, and she was surprised to find that she had very little trouble holding his gaze. "Ginny, I know there's someone else." Ginny shook her head, slowly at first, but frantically as he continued. "No, I know that's been on your mind. When I come home and kiss you after work, your mind is somewhere else. I can just tell, all right? I'm not angry, I guess; I'm just sad. I wanted to marry you."

Ginny couldn't speak and couldn't look away. "It was Oliver," she whispered. "We … we kissed once, and I haven't been able to get him out of my head. But," she added in a louder voice as Harry's eyebrows lowered ominously, "and I swear this, that's not why I'm leaving. I'm going because I don't know what's going on inside me. I want to get out and explore, and I'm not just talking geographically. I'm going to explore myself."

After another small pause, Harry reached out slowly and, carefully, took Ginny in his arms. Ginny went willingly, only starting to cry as her cheek met Harry's sweater. She felt something wet hit her scalp and knew Harry was crying too. When they broke apart, Ginny had an ominous feeling that it might be for the last time.

Awkwardly, Harry started to speak. "I know you probably don't want to stay here anymore," he said, "but if you do, I mean, I've got a lot of guest bedrooms, you've got my bank account…"

"Harry," Ginny interrupted gently, "I'm going to go to Hermione's. But really," she added sincerely, "thank you so much. You've been far more than I've ever expected, and probably more than I deserved."

"I feel the same way about you," Harry said with a small smile. A tear still hung on his face, but he wiped it away as Ginny watched. She hoped he would be okay, but she knew Harry; he had survived worse than this before.

But, as she turned to go upstairs and pack her things, Ginny suddenly wasn't sure if Harry was the one she should be worried about.

AN: Sorry for missing last week, everyone! I've been a bit sick and busy with school, but I'm back in business now. We're very near the end! Thanks for sticking with me!-TheGoldenAge