...And another one opens - Part 7

Damn, this will be harder than I'd even anticipated.

He nodded slightly and saw the brief flash of pain in her eyes before she covered it up again. Smiling brightly, she turned her attention to Hermione and began chatting about bridesmaid dresses.

Her dismissal allowed Harry to breathe again, but the pit he felt in his stomach would make eating impossible. He felt nauseous and needed to regroup. He hated feeling so wrong-footed and uncertain about everything.

"Of course, I suppose you could always go to Grimmauld Place," Ron said, oblivious to the startled and aggravated looks he was receiving from the rest of his family. "You do own that now, don't you, Harry?"

Harry's insides went cold. He'd forgotten about Grimmauld Place, but it would never be home.

"Yeah," he said, finally finding his voice. "I'm going to go put my trunk up in your room. I'll take yours up, too."

He grabbed all the shrunken trunks from Hermione and nearly sprinted from the room. He knew they'd all be talking about him, but he didn't care. He couldn't stay there with her so close for one minute longer. He needed to breathe. And he'd thought it was bad at the Dursleys'. Somehow, he suspected that this would be the longest week of his life.

**************

It wasn't until he'd reached the brightness of Ron's orange room that he remembered he couldn't use magic to enlarge the trunks. He left both Ron and Hermione's miniature trunks on Ron's bed and sat down on the camp bed with his own.

He'd stayed in Fred and George's old room when he was here last summer, but he suspected that with so many people staying at the Burrow for the wedding, he'd be bunking with Ron. That's what he'd done last Christmas when they'd had a crowd.

He stretched out on the camp bed and let his thoughts drift to the previous Christmas. Things had been so much simpler then.

He grinned as he remembered the sweetheart necklace that Lavender had sent to Ron. He wondered what his friend had done with it. Chucked it out the window of the Gryffindor dormitory, most likely.

He relaxed and allowed his mind to wander as he drifted off to sleep. He really hadn't slept well the previous night and was feeling quite drained. He wasn't certain how long he'd dozed, but he awoke to Hermione sitting on his bed, making a "Harumff" sound.

Harry jerked and looked around wildly.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said. "Mrs. Weasley put Ron to work with the twins, but I couldn't stand listening to them for one more minute. They can be so insufferably condescending sometimes."

Harry shook his head and tried to clear it. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Harry shrugged.

"Ginny looks good," Hermione ventured, letting her sentence hang in the open. Harry refused to respond.

Hermione huffed but continued prodding. "Fleur is driving her crazy with these wedding plans. Ginny says she's done nothing but attend engagements and make plans for this wedding and will be just as happy when it's over and done. She hates the dress robes she has to wear. Says they're made for a ten-year-old. I'm supposed to help her with them tonight."

Harry fought the smile that threatened to crack his impassive expression. He could just imagine Ginny's tirades against wearing anything that would make her look younger than she was. She hated being treated like a child.

"Why are you telling me this, Hermione?" he asked.