Ted didn't come, George won't come either. Harry asked me to put it off, he didn't feel much in the mood for company. I didn't insist as I don't feel much in the mood either.
We eat our breakfast in silence, although none of us very hungry.
The gloom hover in the room assisted by the unabating rain pounding on the window. Surely today we cannot go out.
'What are you planning to do?' he asks while clearing the table.
'What do you mean?'
'I mean, are you going to return to Ron?'
He avoids my gaze while asking these questions, cleaning the dishes quickly by magic and storing them away.
'I think you should go back to your family' he continues, lingering with his hand on the cupboard he just closed.
I don't know what to say. A part of me is in anguish at the thought of leaving but the other (the hateful rational one) knows I cannot stay away much longer. I've got indeed a kid and, unfortunately, also a husband who are waiting for me.
I try to silence those clashing voices to understand what is wise to do. Can I leave him alone? Is it not too soon?
Not receiving an answer, he sits again and this time he looks at me, his voice weary but steady
'Look, I know what you are thinking. But I can assure you, I won't start drinking or knocking myself out with muggle stuff or potions as soon as you get out. I won't even look for women to vent out my spleen'
'What are you going to do?'
He doesn't answer, his eyes drifting away, he passes a hand behind his neck massaging it.
'I don't think you should return to the Ministry'
He smirks sadly 'I don't think that either. Insane and Auror don't go well together'
'You are not insane'
He starts fiddling with a coaster left on the table, brooding.
'What about Sunrise?'
He darkens subtly 'She is much better off with Molly and Arthur. She cannot be happy with me'
'You are his father. She asks for you. You must go and see her'
His gaze is fixed on the table, lost 'She is not quite three. She'll forget me soon enough and it's for the best'
I feel a chill driving up on my back, I dart up in consternation and agitation 'Harry, what in the name of god are you saying? Do you want to abandon her? What about Albus and James? Are you going to abandon them too? They will be back for summer holidays you know? What are you planning to do then?'
'James hates me…'
'He doesn't hate you!' I interject.
'He does. It's my fault if… He hates me and will never forgive me. He will be more than happy to forget my existence. And Albus…' I see how his face gets sombre and sombre, like if he is trying very hard to suppress a grimace 'Albus is the only one in the family that hasn't suffered being a child of mine, let's keep it that way'
I bang my fist on the table enraged by this absurd speech, 'So not to make him suffer you'll abandon him?! How can you expect your kids forgetting about you just like that! Just because you want them to! How can you even think to disappear from their life! They lost their mother; they don't need to lose their father too!'
He doesn't look at me, he doesn't even seem to hear me, listless and dejected his gaze is lost outside the window. After a few minutes of silence, he let the coaster go and rest those green hopeless eyes on me 'So, what are you planning to do?'
I gulp 'I'd stay here a couple of days more if you don't mind'.
I want to keep an eye on him to make sure everything is really fine. He seems back in his sense, and I believe him when he says he won't be back in self-loathing but at the same time I don't like this mood he is in. And I want to convince him to take Sunrise back.
He only shrugs his shoulders 'Plenty of space'
And those three words can take many meanings. The sure ones are "I don't care if you stay or go" and "We are not going to share bed anymore". They pain me more than they should. There is nothing worse than to feel so utterly unimportant, that my presence doesn't give neither solace nor irritation. Only yesterday he was begging me not to go away.
'This afternoon I was planning to go and visit my parents. Do you want to come?'
My parents know him well enough. After the Hogwarts' battle me and Ron went to Australia to look for them. It took us a month, but we did find them. When I lifted the enchantment, they have been off balance for a while, a bit sorry to leave Australia but at the same time they didn't want to be too far away from their only daughter, so they got back eventually.
I introduced Harry straight away as soon as in England. They liked each other very much.
He is always so polite and nice they couldn't do anything else but like him, and being my parents muggles, were not so biased in his regards and treated him as they would have treated any other boy, which it's something that always strike him favourably.
After that he came quite often visiting for tea or dinner. The year Ginny was still at school he even spent some nights in the spare room. It was the only safe place for him besides the Burrow because of the growing popularity. He hadn't grasped the notion yet, but we all did and strove in any way we could to shield him from it.
Mum always saw right through me. Probably the only person who did. I guess she tried to open my eyes on the truth. She was keeping uttering sentences like 'This Harry is such a nice boy' or 'You two get along very well' or 'You always seem very happy with him'. I knew where she was heading but at that time I was still calling "a very strong friendship" what it was nonetheless love, so, I never gave much weight to her words. I convinced her (and through her, myself) that it was Ron the one I loved.
'I'd rather prefer staying here. I'll get a nap. You say hello from me' he says walking limply to the living room.
Before to get out, after a few hours, I peep in to see how he is doing. He is sitting on the windowsill looking outside. He hasn't done anything else the whole of today; he refused lunch and any endeavour on my side to entertain him.
When to my parents I cannot concentrate on any conversation. I'm still thinking about him there, alone with all those dark thoughts hanging on his head.
I pop in briefly to Ted to update him.
Ted is concerned about this turn of event. And quite faltering, full of hesitation, he tells me
'I know I asked you to leave him alone time to time, but things now are quite changed. Don't do it anymore if you can. Do not let him out of your sight'
This advice frightened me. I'm getting back in haste.
When I'm on the threshold a sense of foreboding embroils me, my hands shake so I have troubles in opening the door.
It's late afternoon and the light is getting fainter. Inside, the house is in semi darkness, nobody (and with nobody I mean Harry) has been bothered to switch on the light.
My steps light, I cross the corridor, that sense of foreboding heightening with every step. I'd like to call him, but I know my voice wouldn't come out steady if at all.
I peer in the living room sure I won't find him there, but he is there.
An intense sense of relief washes over me in seeing him quite well, but only for a second, until I realise that he is in exactly the same position as I left him in the afternoon. Exactly the same position of the morning. He is sitting on the windowsill looking outside since 9 o'clock this morning!
This is a bit alarming.
I call his name softly and he turns to look at me, his expression unreadable.
I take off my jacket and sit in front of him 'Are you ok?' I ask at which he only nods bringing back his gaze outside.
'What did you do while I was out?'
He shrugs his shoulders.
'Did you do your workout?'
He shakes his head.
'Why?'
He moves his eyes back to me
'What's the point?' he mutters darkly.
'It is what you do. You do it every day. Why not today?'
'I've always done it for my job and for my wife. Now I haven't got a job and I haven't got a wife. What's the point?'
'Harry, you must do it for yourself. Come on! Do it now while I prepare dinner'
'I'm not hungry'
'You didn't eat anything for lunch and barely something for breakfast…'
'I'm not hungry'
I sigh rubbing his arm comfortingly, but he doesn't react in any way thereby I leave him be, going to eat something alone, or at least I try. Knowing him there in that dejected state of mind, I barely manage to swallow three mouthfuls. When I'm done, I grasp an orange and I sit on the windowsill in front of him starting to talk. I only chat about my day, about my parents, about Rose. But I talk, to keep him company and to distract him. I peel my orange in the meanwhile offering him the wedges. He takes them absent minded and bring them to his mouth. After some time while I'm talking about the last letter I received from Rose, not really sure if he listening to me or not, he asks if she mentioned Albus at all in her letter. I'm glad to hear this question that not only mark that he is listening to me but also that he is concerned about his son. She actually did mention him. To be truly honest he was the chief of her letter.
But the subject is spiky. She got into her head to be in love with the boy, she confided me that much over Christmas. I tried to make her see reason but in vain. She says that he is the only man (yes, she said man; I'm quoting) she can or will ever love.
The boy is cute having inherited Harry's eyes and all what best of the Weasley family, and he is very equilibrated and mature for his age. If she would have fallen for James… well, that would have given me some worries. He is surely dashing and charismatic, but he is much more impetuous and belligerent. However, opposite to him, Albus is a sweetheart. Yet they are cousin after all, they spent all their childhood together, they never really hang out with anybody else. I think she should have experiences with some other guys and not focalise so much over him. I've done that mistake; I know what it leads to.
The situation after Ginny's accident is getting rather complicated. Rose wrote me that Ron keeps sending her letters with "advice" to distance herself from him and she is distraught. She loves Ron and is not a kind of girl who usually disobey but at the same time she loves Albus with the strength of first teenage infatuation. Therefore, she is torn.
I'm going to strangle Ron as soon as I get back.
Anyway, it doesn't seem the moment to avow that much to Harry so I just answer cheerfully that albeit not being in the best of spirit, he is doing fine, trying to keep himself busy with quidditch.
'Why don't you write to him? I'm sure he would be happy'
I see him hesitant 'What should I write?'
'Ask him how he is, tell him how you are'
He doesn't answer, but I won't let the matter drop. This is too important. He needs to keep a bond with his sons. I take quill and parchment and I return on the windowsill.
'I'll write for you. Tell me what to put down'
I wait expectant but nothing comes from him, I prod him 'Come on Harry. This is important. And I warn you I'm not going to leave you alone until we manage to write a letter to both your sons. I'm gonna badger you the whole night if necessary'
He smiles shaking his head 'I'm sure you would' he pipes out and I'm so happy to see that smile there that I almost weep. I know, I'm such a cry baby. But usually I'm not, I promise, it's only this situation that makes me tearful.
'Ok, all right.' He adds purposeful and he dictate me two letters, one for each. Two normal letters from a man to a boy. And I'm sure Albus will be very pleased, and James will scorn the letter and probably won't answer it. Something must be done. This resentment from his part is wrong and harmful to both.
When we are done, I put a spell on it to forge his calligraphy at which he smirks amused 'Why didn't you do it while at Hogwarts? You would have saved me a lot of boring hours doing essay'
'You wouldn't have learned anything otherwise.'
I manage to make him eat a second orange and I keep him distracted with my petty talk until it is time to go to sleep. My efforts produced a slight change in his demeanour; a bit less of a gloom and a bit more of the Harry I use to know. Not quite him but closer, and I know I took the right decision in staying. I must not leave him alone; it doesn't do any good.
While he is in the bathroom getting ready for the night, I change the bed linen on the sofa to remove any sign of my presence and all my belonging are back in James' room where I'm going to sleep tonight.
Once it's all done, I take a book and I start to read in the kitchen to leave him the sole use of the living room as it should be.
Once out of the bathroom, I see him stopping on the threshold taken aback from the change. Then he slowly turns to look at me. His enquiring gaze rests on me for a long time and I feel his hesitation, I can almost sense his struggle. He wants to ask me to take everything back and sleep with him.
And the weak part of me he is begging for him to speak, to utter that request in front of which I won't have the strength to refuse and the sensible part of me is begging for him not to exactly for the same reason.
I don't dare looking up because his eyes have too much power over me and I don't want to lose control, so I stare at my page, all letters confused, blurred and the silence is so charged, I don't know for how long I'll stand it.
When he realises that I'm studiously avoiding his gaze, he bows his head and simply wish me good night to which I try to respond as cheerfully as I possibly can, feeling, in the meanwhile, my inside weeping in agony.
I'm very aware how difficult it will be for him tonight. It's the first night since Ginny death that he will sleep by himself, not stunned by potions, nor in company of a meaningless women, nor with me.
It's gonna be tough but nevertheless I'm here. In the same house. He is not alone, and I hope this is going to come as a comfort to him.