A/N - Remember how you all said chapters should be longer? It's come back to that point where I wish it was. But the rules help with the daily updates so... Yeah. Sorry.

When you read this chapter keep in mind... Impulsive, stubborn, reckless and a hero complex...That's our Harry.

Chapter 42 - An empty picture frame and Glimpse

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When Harry went back to his bedroom, the only thing he felt like doing was to pace the length of the room in agitation, the way he had seen lions pace within their cages on the one instance he had ever been to a zoo. He flexed his fingers, his legs moving of their own accord while his neck and back felt too stiff to move. He felt the need to kick something; break something. Having that conversation with Hermione only seemed to aggravate him further and he felt willing to do anything to stop this unhappy feeling that had settled in his chest.

All he could think about was that one time he had seen Tonks conjure a Patronus. He hadn't known exactly what that meant at the time until he had heard what the others in the Order thought of it. Now, he wasn't so sure if he wanted to accept that logic. Then there was Snape. Snape and his mother.

Without realising what he was doing, Harry headed straight to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, pulling it open roughly to drag out the bag he had used while on the hunt for Horcruxes. It really was in a despicable state. It was worn, torn and dirty, but for now, it would do.

Harry went about the bedroom collecting everything that he wanted to take with him; his clothes, a few books, the picture of his mum and dad, leaving the empty photo frame. He packed everything he thought his rucksack could carry; anything that he might miss. With every item he packed, he felt that much lighter, which only convinced him that this was the right thing to do. He didn't know why it took him so long to figure out that he needed to leave, but now that he did, he was positive that nothing could convince him to stay.

Pulling on the strap, he checked the weight of the bag, mentally cursing himself for never asking Hermione how to perform the Undetectable Extension Charm. On the other hand, he could easily pretend to be a traveller with a rucksack on his back rather than wandering alone with nothing to carry his belongings in.

With a low breath, he heaved the heavy pack over his shoulder, glanced one final time at the bedroom that had been his for just over a week, and left, closing the door behind him softly. He stopped at the landing when he suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen Kreacher all that much since Hermione and he had moved in. There would be times when the house elf would be pottering about in the kitchen or in several dusty rooms within Grimmauld Place, but for the most part he had kept his distance; probably because of Hermione. His absence might make the house elf that much happier.

As he had done a few hours before, Harry descended the stairs slowly, trying his best not to make a sound and wake up Hermione again. That thought completely left his mind when he heard her voice coming from the kitchen.

"I don't know."

His brows knitting together in confusion, Harry started heading towards the kitchen instead of the front door, keeping his back against the wall so he could catch a glimpse of who she was talking to. He saw Hermione on her knees in front of the fireplace, her hair dishevelled and her eyes puffy as if she had been crying.

"Do you want me to come over?"

Harry felt his jaw tighten when he recognised Ron's voice.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No. Don't. I'll talk to him."

"You should do more than talk to him. You should go barmy on him. What was he thinking, leaving like that? The least he could have done was to leave a note."

"He just needed to be alone."

"Well, yeah. All of us do. He can be as alone as he wants. All he has to do is tell us, innit?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "I'll handle it."

"Good," Ron said forcefully. "I better get back. Are you sure you don't want me to join you?"

She shook her head. "Goodnight, Ron."

There was moment of hesitation before his best friend said, "Night, Hermione."

After sharing a small smile, the fireplace lost its green tinge, its flames becoming its usual shade of orange fire.

Harry watched her as she sat before the crackling fire, her eyes on the entwined fingers on her lap. "You're leaving, then."

Harry felt himself stiffen as her eyes rose and met his squarely. He had thought that she wouldn't notice him. She didn't even sound all that surprised.

"I heard you come down the stairs," Hermione whispered, answering the question he had left unasked. Her eyes then landed on the rucksack he carried. "I suppose you don't want me to go with you."

Feeling ashamed, Harry dropped his gaze from hers. He had no idea what to say; what to do. He just wanted to leave.

Hermione stood up slowly, keeping his eyes on him kindly. "It's all right, Harry. I understand." Looking around, she gestured to the kettle she had left on the fire. "At least have some tea before you go."

She looked at him with so much hope. Glancing towards the door behind him, Harry sighed, dropping his rucksack where he stood before entering the kitchen. He had been so close. The smile she gave him was small, but sincere. It baffled him on what he was willing to do just to see her smile.

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