...And another one opens - Part 8

Hermione shrugged. "I thought you'd want to know, since you avoided talking with her at all."

Harry frowned. "I-I- I didn't avoid talking...I just --"

"Just what?"

"I just didn't know what to say," Harry whispered.

Hermione smiled sadly. "She misses you, Harry, and I know you miss her. No matter how well you think you're hiding it."

Harry swallowed against the thickness in his throat. "It's even harder than I thought it would be."

"Harry, if Professor Dumbledore said this great power you possess is love, do you really think it's a good idea to be pushing her away?" Hermione asked, picking at a loose thread on the blanket on Harry's bed.

Harry stiffened, closing off his emotions. "It has to be this way, Hermione. I won't put her in danger."

"She's already in danger, Harry. We all are. Didn't you see the hands on that clock downstairs? Ginny's hand is still pointed to Mortal Peril, whether you're with her or not. I think she could help us."

"No."

"Harry -- "

"Don't push it, Hermione. I can't let her die because of me, and I don't want her to have to watch if it's me that's going to go," Harry said, refusing too look at her.

"Don't say that," Hermione hissed, grabbing him around the waist and hugging him fiercely. "Don't even think it. We can't lose you, Harry."

"Don't be stupid, Hermione," Harry said, finally looking at her directly. "We both know it's a very real possibility. Look at what happened to Dumbledore's hand while he was after these things. This isn't a game, and I'm not nearly the wizard he was. It's more than likely I'm going to die, but so help me God, I'm taking him with me when I do."

"Don't!" Hermione pleaded, her voice choked.

"Hermione," Harry said gently, hating the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. He never did well with crying girls. "Let's just take this one step at a time. It's the only way I'm able to keep going forward. Ginny is a distraction... a very pleasant distraction... that I can't afford."

"Then you at least enjoy yourself at this wedding. Dance with her, drink and be merry and have a good snog if that's what you want to do," Hermione said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Hermione!"

"What?"

"I can't believe you, of all people, just said that," Harry replied, unable to contain his laughter.

She shrugged. "If you don't, you'll have no right to complain if someone else does."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked warily. The beast within his chest that had curled up in misery at the end of term suddenly raised its head and breathed fire.

"Well, Ginny told me that the two groomsmen are Charlie and Fleur's cousin, Jean-Luc. Fleur has been making no secret of the fact that she wants to pair Ginny up with Jean-Luc," Hermione said, her nose slightly in the air.

"What? What does Ginny think about this?" Harry asked indignantly. His monster was snarling. No prancing Frenchman was getting anywhere near his Ginny without her permission.

Unless...Harry's insides suddenly went cold. What if Ginny wanted the attention? He felt the beast whimper and curl its tail inward.

"Oh, Harry. You know Ginny. She won't be pushed into doing anything she doesn't want to do, especially by Fleur. But she's hurting, too, and...well...Ginny has been known to be spiteful on occasion," Hermione said, somewhat apologetically.

Harry's heart constricted so tightly that he thought he might asphyxiate himself. He clenched his fists, knowing there was nothing he could do.