A Cannon's Harpy

XIX

Ginny sat, legs tucked beneath her body, unable to do anything. Nothing about Harry's flat felt right. He should have been here, laughing or complaining. He was supposed to have come straight to the flat after visiting the Burrow. The cushion held tightly against her chest provided little comfort. Kreacher had come and gone a few times, but never once could he tell Ginny anything more. Harry Potter was missing without a single trace.

She had been sitting on the couch for hours, the sun already well beneath the horizon, her fingers wrapped around a cup of tea long since empty. The people in the moving picture of Harry and his adopted family moved relentlessly; their smiles frustrating. Her body cried out for sleep, but how could she? Harry was out there somewhere. She hoped alive.

A sudden, almost uncontrolled, pop echoed from behind; the sound much louder than Kreacher's. Ginny leapt to her feet, the cup tumbling from her hands towards the floor, to face the noise. Harry strode, rather staggered towards a chair, his back turned towards her.

"Where have you been, Harry?" Half a day's worth of concern and fear quickly bubbled over into anger. "I've been worried sick for hours."

"I was busy," Harry replied without turning to face her. "I'm sorry… b…but I don't think I c…can see you anymore."

"I... What!" Ginny shouted. "How dare you say something like that, Harry?"

"I'm not g…good for you. Being near me will only g…get you hurt." Before she could reply Harry Apparated away leaving her standing alone in the lifeless flat.

Paralysed from shock, she fell back against the couch. What should she be feeling? There was nothing except a dull ache deep within her chest. Harry could not have been serious? Had he been? Two fingers pinched her forearm in desperation, hoping that this was all some twisted nightmare.

When she arrived at the Burrow the pain had yet to lesson. In fact it had grown steadily worse. It swelled and throbbed each time bringing her closer to understanding, nearer to the brink of tears. The emotions near overflowing.

"Ginny," her mother called. "Is Harry with you? I wanted to ask him about his..."

She'd not had the courage to tell her parents about Harry's disappearance and Gwenog had helped to get Dumbledore involved. Her mother's words, however, pushed her to the edge and over. "He's not going to be here anytime soon!" Ginny shouted. Her lips began to tremble. "He just left me!"

Mrs. Weasley looked up at the outburst; her face an image of confusion. "But this morning, he looked so happy."

Ginny nodded dumbly, a tear, the first of what might be many slipped down her cheek. Thankfully only the one leaked down her left cheek. "He did, didn't he?" She tried to laugh, the action threatened to shed more tears. "I mean everything was going so well."

The world grew misty and the only sensation was her mother's embrace. "It's going to be alright, Ginny. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. He probably didn't mean what he said."

She sobbed louder, her hands unable to keep her face dry. "I just don't understand. I went to his flat, waited all day, and then he comes in, doesn't even look at me, and then tells me that it's over."

Hands moved through her long hair. It just made the pain all the more real, those should have been Harry's hands. She stood abruptly. "I... I need some time alone." Ginny sniffed and tried to walk with some dignity to her room.