"He exploded at us, mum," Ron frowned. "I know that it probably didn't help that the first thing we did was wheedle at him, but we didn't say something so rude that he should have exploded like that."
"Oh, Ron," Mrs. Weasley remarked, putting a hand to her head. "I wished that you wouldn't have provoked his temper. You should have just been supportive. You don't know what that boy's been through. You say he still loves Ginny, well, she's not in love with him anymore and he had a terrible night sleeping. Horrible dreams, and he had a horrible idea that the Death Eaters may be regrouping. Not to mention his scar hurt this morning. Poor dear."
"Why didn't he tell us any of this?" Ron frowned.
"We didn't really give him a chance to," Hermione frowned. "We just started biting his head off. As if he didn't have enough to worry about. I wish we hadn't. I think I'm going to go to apologize to him. After all, he's right. He doesn't have an on and off switch. He can't help but love Ginny, but I hope, for his sake, that he moves on."
"I'll come up with you," Ron frowned. "I was a great prat to him, too," he pointed out.
"Big surprise there," George muttered under his breath to Bill. Bill smirked and shook his head. Fleur was sitting on Bill's lap comfortably, and Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but hold a look of disgust for the girl. She could get along with Fleur, but it took a lot of effort and sometimes she just didn't want to.
"It appears that mother dearest finds we have an excess of phlegm," Ginny reported to Viktor in a soft whisper.
Viktor laughed. "I'd have to say," he remarked in a whisper so that no one but Ginny could hear. "That I quite agree with your mother."
"Look at zos two, exchanging wheespers," Fleur remarked. "Zat ess so adorable," she said, looking fondly over at the pair. If she knew what they were saying, she might not have looked over at the two so fondly. But fortunately for their sake she hadn't heard their whispers and she didn't know what they were talking about. The blonde rested her head on Bill's shoulders.
Angelina exchanged a look with George. "I hope you don't expect me to do that to you. Because I'm not about to, Mister."
George laughed. "I wouldn't expect you to, love. Nor would I feel comfortable if you did. I'd know you'd want something that I couldn't possibly refuse but didn't want," he joked. She shook her head and gave him a playful push. "Well, you know that it's true."
"It is," Angelina agreed with a small laugh.
Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione had gone to find Harry upstairs. They wanted to talk to him about earlir. They hadn't meant to hurt him any worse than he already had been hurt. They honestly hadn't. Yet, if they had known, would they have much more compassionate? Perhaps, they were just being insensitive to Harry's feelings. Harry did have a right to feel, after all.
Harry sat upstairs. He felt crushed. Ruined. The woman that he had always loved was getting married to Viktor Krum, of all people. He knew that Ron would be feeling the same jealousy that he was now if it were Hermione instead of Ginny that Krum was engaged to. It just wasn't fair. Why the hell did Krum get what he wanted? The only reason that he had broke up with Ginny was to protect her. What did he protect her from in the end? Merely his love for her, it would seem. He was angry. He was hurt. How was he supposed to take this engagement? He wanted to bash Viktor's skull in, but that wouldn't solve anything but give him some vindictive pleasure; as well as get himself carted to Azkaban. He really had no intention of that. But he honestly didn't want to stay there at the Burrow. Even Hermione and Ron were at his throats. As if he were some idiot. Well, you are, said a nasty voice in his head, you let the love of your life go. What for? So you could prance around being noble. Too bad she doesn't care about your efforts or that you destroyed Voldemort. No, she just wanted to hold your hand and you wouldn't let her. Why the hell did you always push her away? It's no wonder she ran to Vicky really. He held his head, shaking it fervently trying to will these thoughts away. He didn't like thinking like this, he honestly didn't. Why couldn't these thoughts bereft of his mind? He didn't like thinking like this, but avoiding these thoughts wouldn't make the situation go away most unfortunately. With a sigh, the Boy-Who-Lived sat on the bed feeling more like the Boy-Who-Failed or the Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died. Tears filled Harry's green eyes. He had messed up, and now because of that he was going to lose Ginny. He was going to lose the woman of his dreams and to an old rival, too. At least it wasn't Draco, his mind bitterly thought. He snorted. Part of him wished it was. At least he could understand that. Krum was just as famous as he was in Bulgaria not to mention he was brooding, serious, and he hadn't saved the world. But Lord Forbid he should say anything terrible about Vicky. They all seemed to love him. Isn't that why his own best friends had even turned on him? Some friends they turned out to be. He knew he shouldn't feel bad for himself, that he should just own up to his own actions, but he couldn't help but feel bad for himself. It always seemed to be he that was shorted in the end. He let the tears of anger and pain flow freely from his eyes. After all, there was no one there to mock him for them. He figured he was safe. He blinked when he heard footsteps and sighed, trying to quickly brush the tears away. His eyes were still bleary when Hermione and Ron walked into the room. "What do you guys want?" he asked gently.
"Harry, we came to say --"
"Blimey, mate, are you okay? It looks as if you've been crying, your face is all red, and your eyes are bleary."
"I was," Harry said stiffly. He felt no warmth or comfort as he usually did when his friends were around. He felt nothing but emptiness and sadness. He wished that they would just leave him alone and yet he knew them. They wouldn't just simply leave him alone. They never did.
"Harry, we came to apologize."
"Yeah, mate, we're sorry for coming on so strong," Ron frowned. "We didn't know what a bad night of sleep you had or about your scar. Mum told us about that. We're sorry. It isn't our place to judge."
"You're right, you can't just turn a switch on and off for love," Hermione replied. "I realize that and I'm sorry." She sat down next to Harry and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, Harry?"
Ron who had experienced too many times the explosive anger of the boy who lived. He closed the door and put a silencing charm on it. The same spell that Harry had found in Snape's old Potion's book.
"What do you think is wrong?!" Harry demanded, jerking away from her. "Everyone's got someone but me! You have Ron! The woman I love is with Krum! Bill has Fleur! Percy has Penelope! Charlie has Patricia! George has Angelina! Lee has Katie! Even Luna has someone! Why should everyone get someone to love them, everyone but me?!" Harry demanded, looking exceptionally frustrated. "Why do I get the short end of the stick all the bloody time?! No one seems to care how many times I almost died. Why don't I get someone to love? And why does the woman I love not love me?" The former Gryffindor dissolved into tears.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione replied, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry."
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