I go to the kitchen to eat something and to reflect on what had just passed. I'd like to think the worst is behind me but I'm not sure of it. I cannot imagine what the morrow is going to bring. I look outside the window in the empty street. Nobody is around. My thoughts wander fixing themselves on Hugo; I miss my boy. I hope is doing well. And then it's only a short step to get to Ron: when is the last time that he sparked in me emotions like the one I felt tonight? I cannot recollect. Am I wrong in expecting from him more than he can give? I would just like him to get hold of me as Harry has done, to look at me with the same longing.
Am I to blame because I cannot inspire the passion, I would like him to pour on me?
I have no wish to return to him. I don't miss him. It's scary to realise. And I feel sorry and slightly in fault. But it is how it is. Does he miss me? I don't think so. He probably misses the easiness that my person brings in his life, but he doesn't miss me really.
I take a shower to wash away the desolation and I get back to bed with Harry, my heart lighter. I nestle close to his warm body, feeling a cheerfulness ill adapted to the situation, but I dreamt about this cosiness for so long.
Ginny, please, if you can see me, forgive me.

I wake up the next morning with Harry spooning against my back. I flush in half a second. It feels so very different from last night. All his firm body adhering to my own. He moves a little and I feel his manly morning stiffness pressing against my lower back. This is not good. Or better, it would be even too good in different circumstances, but considering the situation, it's not good.
I slide out of bed softly and, sensing it, he opens his eyes instantly 'Where are you going?'
'To prepare some breakfast' I answer heading swiftly for the kitchen, I don't want him to see my flush.
'I don't care about breakfast. Come back here.'
'No Harry, I'm hungry.'
My stomach is actually so close I don't think I'm up to swallow anything, not even a drop of pumpkin juice but it's of primary importance to keep some distance and tonight I'll be back sleeping in James' bed. No matter how much he'll beg me.
I prepare a full breakfast anyway; yesterday he didn't eat anything.
When it's ready I get back to the living room and it's the same scene as yesterday that presents itself under my eyes: he is staring blankly in front of him with the only difference of the missing bottle. I decide to consider it an improvement.
I inform him that breakfast is ready.
'I'm not hungry' he answers listlessly.
I kneel close to him and taking his hand I kiss his cheek. He looks up to me.
'Please Harry, come to the kitchen and eat something. Do it for me.'
He doesn't answer but keeping my hand firmly follows my gentle pulling. We don't talk during the meal, but he thanks me at the end of it. Yes, I definitely see an improvement.
He returns to the living room after then and sits himself on the windowsill looking outside.
To keep him company I take my book and I start to read, time to time peering at him. For two full hours he doesn't change his demeanour.
'Do you want to go out?' I ask in the end. I don't think it can be of much use to brood the whole day.
He shook his head still looking outside.
'Why don't you do your work out?'
As he shook his head again, I judge necessary to intervene. Sitting in front of him I make him look into my eyes.
'Come on, I'll do it with you' I say taking his hand and leading him away from the window.
When we begin working out, I do my best to keep up but, blimey! His training is so much harder than mine! I cannot help to realize that I really need to start exercising properly when after half an hour I'm about to die. Needless to say, Harry is still as fresh as a rose.
Panting I admit I cannot carry on any longer and, totally unexpected, I hear the first real laugh coming from him since I got here. Not a laugh induced from alcohol or drugs, not a sneer, a real, light cheerful laugh. Such a sweet sound, it makes amends for everything. Everything I endured yesterday has been worth to hear this laugh. It warms my heart. And he is so cute when he smiles.
I laugh with him delighted letting him continue without me with the intention of profiting of this spark of good mood to lead him to eat something.
And it works! After his workout he eats voraciously the sandwiches I prepare for him without me asking him to. I need to keep it up. I need to keep him busy. I pose him questions about the book of defensive spells. It seems willing to talk about it and we even try together some. Busy with this occupation the afternoon flies but when the evening comes his listlessness returns in full form; he refuses dinner and gets back lying on the sofa. With great difficulty I entreat him to get a shower, change and prepare for the night. But when everything is done, he gets back on the sofa staring at the ceiling.
Hoping to distract him from his thoughts I get a book and I start reading aloud. It's a muggle book I got from home. It's a fantasy. A fantasy under a muggle point of view. It's full of magical creatures really existing but twisted under muggle's imagination. I always find them greatly entertaining and after a chapter or two I realise he is listening to me, sometimes I interrupt the reading to make some comments and he smiles. Good, well-done Hermione.
At eleven o'clock when I close the book and I kiss him good night, he looks at me enquiringly 'Where are you going?'
'To bed'
'Here with me?'
'No, in James' room'
'Why? Why don't you sleep with me?'
'Because I don't think it's a good idea. I gave up yesterday because I felt you needed it, but you must learn to stay by yourself. I won't be here forever, you know'
I see something flashing in his eyes that looks a lot like anxiety, and I know I said the wrong thing. He gets immediately pensive and starts to fidget 'When are you going away?'
'When you will be able to be on your own.' I sit close to him trying to reassure him but in vain.
'When is that? How long are you going to stay?'
I positively said the wrong thing. Damn me!
'I'll stay as long as you'll need me to stay'
'What if I need you to stay forever?'
My god Harry, why you have to make this so difficult for me?!
'You won't need me forever'
'But I will. I cannot bear to be left alone… Again' and there is much anguish in the way he says "again" that I cannot help answering what I do.
'It won't be so but if it will, I won't have much choice but to stay forever, won't I?'
I feel him relaxing with relief. He embraces me and drags me gently in bed.
Harry:2 Hemione:0
Oh, for heaven's sake!