What's Best For Her

Aunt Molly's Advice

Two weeks after his ill-fated reunion with Hermione, Harry was content to lie in Percy's old room in total misery. He only left for mealtimes and whenever Molly would force him to take a shower and brush his teeth. He didn't feel like doing anything anymore. It was like his world was destroyed, the once brilliant colors of it replaced by a soulless grey.

Molly had tried to coax him out of misery along with the rest of the family but none of it worked. He kept to himself in his own room and had half a mind to return to Grimmauld by himself. He didn't get the chance to do so because the Weasleys begged him to stay, vowing to let him deal with his misery on his own. Truthfully, he really didn't want to leave them either. They were all he had left.

For fourteen days, Hermione's words lived rent free in his mind. What was best for her was to leave him behind. She didn't love him enough to stay in England with him. His part in her life was over and she was on towards bigger and grander things. He tried to tell himself that she should do what was best for her but the words wouldn't take. Harry, more than anything, wanted himself to be what was best for her.

"Harry, dear, I've made treacle tart," Molly's tender voice said to him. He didn't even notice her enter his room, lost in his misery as he was.

"M'fine," he mumbled into his pillow, not letting her see the dried tear streaks on his face.

"You are not."

Molly felt the boy's misery permeate her being, making her just as miserable as he was. She could admit that she would never replace the boy's mother but he was still her boy. She loved him as if he were own and her motherly instincts could no longer let him wallow in filth and depression. It was with that notion in her mind that she sat on his bed beside his laying frame.

"Harry Potter, let me see your face," a stern Weasley matron commanded, her voice brooking no room for insubordination whatsoever. "Oh, dear," Molly cupped his tear streaked face as he looked up at her and wiped away the dried up stains with her thumb, "what happened?"

"She told me she was moving to the States," he miserably responded, sending a shocked gasp careening out of Molly's mouth. The mere memory of the conversation was causing him immense anguish. "Apparently, there's some advanced program there that McGonagall recommended," he bitterly added.

"And what happened after she told you?" Molly prodded.

She wished she hadn't asked because his tears had started up again. Sensing that he needed to be he hugged tightly, Molly did just that and wrapped him in her arms with his head resting against her chest.

"I asked her why she wanted to leave, basically asking her why she even considered the offer w—when I—I was still here," he wept into her blouse, soaking it with his tears. She dropped a kiss onto his head and continued to let him speak. "I...wanted to know why she was t—thinking of leaving w—when she still had me."

Even though her heart broke at the thought of continuing to ask him what happened, the Weasley Matron resolved to do so. She hoped to the fates that she could learn more about what happened and advise Harry on what to do. "What did she say, dear?"

"She refused to give me an answer at first," Harry's voice quickly turned furious, a far cry from its sound of misery only seconds before, "then she told me it was what's best for her." Molly drew in a sharp breath at that because those words meant that Hermione believed leaving England, leaving Harry, was what was best for. It was like telling Harry she no longer wanted to be friends with him, at least Molly knew that's what the boy thought.

"What did I do to her to make her want to leave? I—I thought that...after everything we went through...she'd be the last person to leave me," the boy waveringly said to her in between his sobs.

"Oh, Harry, you did nothing wrong, sweetheart," Molly cooed in reply to his mournful weeps. She hugged him even tighter and refrained from blaming Hermione for inflicting so much misery on her boy. "Did she say anything else after that? Perhaps why she thought it was the best thing for her to leave?" She gently questioned him.

"I left her, I was so bitter...I just wanted to be away from her." He was still nestled against her chest so his voice came out muffled but Molly understood all the same.

"Well then that's the problem, Harry. You never got to understand why she wants to leave," Molly hopefully told him, trying to lure him out of his self-imposed agony. He pulled back to look at her in surprise. "Dear, I know you were hurt and angry but all she told you was that leaving you, us, was the best thing for her. You owe it to yourself to find out why she believes that," she continued to lecture him.

"I think I know what she means," Harry bitterly spat, refusing to see the errors in his judgment. He shook his head at Molly but didn't leave her embrace. "No reason would be good enough to explain why she suddenly wants to upend her whole life and leave me behind."

"You can't know that," Molly reasoned with him.

Her words wouldn't take, however.

"What would you have me do, Aunt Molly? I don't think I can even write to her without feeling hurt by her words."

Molly gasped, not because of his admission, but because of him calling her Aunt Molly. In another, less emotionally distressing situation, she would have smiled warmly at him and fawned over his new name for her. She resolved to be firm with him, just for this current moment.

"Harry, you can't just assume you know what Hermione's feeling. There's no telling what possessed her to say that," the matron once again reasoned.

This time, she could see her words working their magic on him. He remained silent for a long moment with her and she could see him work out something in his head, maybe he was trying to figure out if he wanted to know what Hermione meant. She hoped he was.

"I can't write to her," he lamented.

"Well then visit her."

"What if she hurts me again? I don't think I can take it if she did."

"That's a risk you've got to take, sweetheart," Molly cupped his cheek once more, "you owe it to yourself to find out why she wants to leave. For real this time."

"And if I don't like the reason?" He whimpered slightly.

"Oh, dear, you're going to have to respect it either way. If you care about her as much as I know you do, then you'll have to let her go."

"But it'll hurt."

"It always will, sweetheart. It always will," Molly admitted in a heartfelt voice.

"So then, why?" Harry continued to prod at her.

"Well, sometimes we do it to see if they'll come back but other times we do it because it's what's best for them."

"Do you think if I let her go, she'll come back?" Harry asked hopefully.

"You won't know until you do so. You don't want her to leave without fixing this rift between you two."

"I don't," a suddenly fearful but hopeful Harry admitted.

"Talk to her then."

Harry took the advice and quickly rose from the bed, groaning slightly as his muscles protested after their two week layoff. He quickly looked around for parchment and a quill to pen a quick note to invite Hermione before realizing he had none. Sheepishly, he turned to Molly who was smiling at him.

"Come on," Molly called as she made to leave the room before wrinkling her nose at him. "Take a bath first." He pouted at her but nevertheless obeyed, happily gathering his towel and clothes before practically sprinting to the bathroom.

The matron was sincerely glad that he seemed to be out of his funk but she knew his upcoming conversation with Hermione would either place him right back into it or make him the happiest he'd ever been. Molly knew he loved the girl but it would be up to him to tell her. Then, it would be up to Hermione to do what she wanted with that revelation.