Crossroads

Chapter 3

It had been a week since Harry relayed his plans to Hermione and she relayed it to Ron and the Weasleys. The Weasleys were much more accepting of Harry's decision than Harry thought they would be. They had a sense of understanding that he was grateful for, but it still hurt him when Molly broke into tears and declared him a surrogate son to her. She begged him to be safe and come back to her one day just so that she wouldn't lose a son twice. Harry acquiesced easily as the entire family, including Hermione, enveloped him in a hug.

That had been three days before Fred's funeral, and now Harry was standing in front of the grave of one of his most loyal friends. His resolve was only strengthened as he stared down at Fred Weasley's headstone, feeling the guilt of his failure to save the man.

The funeral was a short and sweet ceremony amongst family only and Harry was grateful for it. Try as he might, however, he didn't miss the way Ron and Hermione huddled together as they sobbed over Fred's death. It reminded him that he was truly alone. Ginny had chosen to restart her relationship with Dean after he ended the relationship for good, and Bill and Charlie each had their own wives. Harry, though, was left with nothing and no one.

Now, as he stared down at Fred's grave, he missed the soft footsteps that came up behind him.

"You shouldn't blame yourself."

Harry spun around to meet the eyes of Hermione and smiled. She knew him so well.

"I feel guilty, but my anger outweighs my guilt, 'Mione," he stonily replied.

He turned back to stare down at Fred's grave, feeling as Hermione came to stand next to him. The silence between them was almost deafening to Harry, but he didn't say a word. He didn't know what to say to her anymore, and he hoped that she wouldn't try to convince him to stay like she subtly did over the week.

"There's nothing else I can do, right?" She breathlessly asked from beside him.

Harry shook his head. It was honestly heartwarming that she was trying so hard to get him to stay, but he couldn't. He loved her enough to no longer stand in the way of her happiness, and he had enough respect for himself, and for her, to find a way to exist without her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

Harry turned and briskly walked away from the grave back to the Burrow. Every step was against his will, but he kept pushing forward to try and put as much distance between him and Hermione as possible. She always had a way of anchoring him to this world, and right now, she was weighing his heart and body down as he moved further away from her. Still, he pressed forward, if he didn't do this now, he'd never be able to do it.

Once inside the Burrow, Harry gently sat down on the sitting room couch and let out a long breath. He was beyond tired, hurt, and anxious. He allowed his tiredness to overtake him, and promptly fell into a deep sleep on the couch.

Harry was awoken from his impromptu nap by the incessant chattering of the Weasley family. He blearily watched as the world came into view around him.

"How'd you sleep?" He turned his head to the source of the voice to find none other than Hermione sitting next to him on the couch, also looking like she had just woken up.

He nodded and quickly rose from his spot on the couch. He missed the momentary hurt look on Hermione's face as he made his way to the kitchen. Immediately upon setting foot in the kitchen, Harry was greeted by the decadent aroma of Mrs. Weasley's wonderful stew. His stomach grumbled before he could even greet the Weasley matron and he blushed as she turned to look at him.

"Sounds like someone is ready for dinner," Molly joked to her surrogate son. She quickly went over, and almost forcefully sat Harry down before procuring a bowl of her oh-so-wonderful stew in front of him. The matron watched with barely concealed adoration as her honorary son mumbled out his gratitude before completely devouring the bowl of stew in front of him.