Occlumency - 5

Of course, Hermione wouldn't let it go and refused to accept his reasoning without a more sound explanation for his unwillingness to go back. The problem was Harry didn't have a sound reason; he just knew it. A dark, underlying part of him wondered if it had something to do with the bit of Voldemort's soul that he now knew resided within him.

He and Hermione had argued about it over breakfast, and now Harry was sitting in front of a fire in the drawing room with a large book on the Dark Arts in his lap. He wasn't really seeing the words, however. His eyes had glazed as his mind dwelled upon the fact that he was a Horcrux.

Locating and destroying the cup had been a huge victory, but it also brought him one step closer to doing what he feared he'd have to do. He couldn't talk about it with any of the others because it seemed to distress them even more than it distressed him. So, Harry was left alone to contemplate his feelings, and the toll was wearing him down.

This was how Ginny found him when she entered the drawing room and sat down next to him. He took a moment to even acknowledge her presence, and when he did, it was with a start.

"What are you thinking about that's making you frown that way?" she asked, smoothing the tense lines around his mouth with her fingers.

"I was just thinking about what we had to do next," he replied.

"You're worried," she said.

The corner of Harry's mouth quirked upwards – he could never fool her. "A bit," he said. "Hermione wants to go back to Albania."

Ginny nodded without response. Harry had the impression she'd already heard the other side of the argument and wondered if she'd sought him out to continue Hermione's pleas.

When Ginny remained silent, he prodded her. "What do you think?"

"Well," she replied slowly, "I can see why Hermione feels the way she does, but I also think your instincts have been spot on so far. If you don't think it's what we should do, I'm willing to trust your judgment."

Her words didn't reassure him the way they should have. "Why?" he demanded. "Why do you trust me? How can you be so certain I'm making the right decisions?"

"Harry, I think it's only human to second guess our decisions. The only time we can ever be certain if we're doing right is after the fact. You have to make these decisions without hindsight and, so far, it's working. You were right about the last Horcrux – not only where it was, but how to destroy it. I don't know how you know, but you do. I trust you, Harry."

Ginny's eyes bored into him, and he turned away from the intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and utterly vulnerable. "You shouldn't. I have a nasty habit of getting the people I care about killed," he choked.

"That's a Malfoy talking," Ginny snapped. "Don't listen to them, Harry. They're trying to get under your skin. I hate this stupid Occlumency idea. Malfoy hates you because of his own inferiority complex. He'll never be better than you, and inside he knows it, and it eats him alive."

Despite his melancholy, he couldn't help but smile at her fierce loyalty. "I love it when you're fiery," he said, grinning.

"Oh, you do, do you?" she asked, swaying her shoulders seductively. "I can show you fiery."

Leaning over, she kissed him soundly. He ran his fingers through the shorter strands of her hair as every nerve ending in his body suddenly stood on end. After several minutes of pleasant but tame kissing, she pulled back, frowning.