Harry was glad to set eyes on his old second home, but now that he was actually here standing in front of it, his stomach was sitting somewhere in the region of his throat. He had half a mind to turn on the spot and Apparate back to his flat. However, before he could change his mind and flee the scene, a plump, kindly looking witch with greying red hair had descended the porch steps and was rapidly making her way towards him. Other than several new lines and wrinkles upon her plain face and copious amounts of greying hair, Molly Weasley looked much the same as Harry remembered her. Without saying a word, Mrs. Weasley flung her arms around Harry and pulled him into a tight embrace. Much to his horror and embarrassment, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing loudly upon his shoulder. Harry patted her back perfunctorily in what he hoped was a comforting manner and mumbled, "'S'okay Mrs. Weasley," into the woman's shoulder. To his relief, Molly pulled back at last and held Harry at arm's length and begun looking him up and down with an appraising eye. "You need feeding up, dear! Come on now, let's get you inside, every one's anxious to see you."
With a feeling of apprehension and slight dread, Harry followed Mrs. Weasley up the porch steps and through the back door of the house. Entering into the kitchen, Harry quickly saw that the scrubbed wood table that filled the majority of the small, cluttered room had several people surrounding it, many of them with vivid red hair. For the second time that day, Harry caught himself smiling. Okay, so it was good to be back in the company of the Weasleys. Also for the second time that day, Harry found himself launched upon and within the tight embrace of a sobbing witch. This time it was Hermione. "Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you came! We've all missed you so, so much!"
"Thanks 'Mione, you can let me go now," Harry mumbled, his words muffled against her shoulder as he attempted to unwrap himself from her arms.
"Hey mate, that's my wife you're squeezing," said a voice from somewhere behind Harry. He turned to see the bright red haired, extremely freckled, and wide smiling face of his best friend, Ron Weasley. Finally freed from Hermione, he advanced toward Ron and held out a hand for him to shake. Ron gave the hand a sort of puzzled glance and then knocked it aside as he too pulled Harry into an uncomfortably tight bear hug. "What are you playing at mate, staying away so long?"
Satisfied that he wasn't in any immediate danger of being wrangled into another rib-crushing hug, Harry turned his attention toward the people still sitting at the kitchen table. "Hullo everyone....," Harry muttered with an almost questioning smile on his face. Would they still accept him as part of the family after so many years of ignoring their friendship? His answer came quickly as the Weasleys and their respective wives broke into a chorus of "Hi, Harry!"s and "How are you mate?"s Only one person at the table had remained silent and seemed unhappy to see him. Ginny. Harry swallowed several times, trying without much success to dissolve the large lump that seemed to have developed in his throat. His heart was fluttering and he felt certain that he would pass out upon the hearth rug at any moment now. Finally: "Hello Mr. Potter." Mr. Potter? Why the formality? Could she really pretend that they hadn't known each other nearly their entire lives? That he hadn't once saved her life? That they hadn't once lived together? Hadn't once been in love? Harry's mouth gaped open stupidly as he struggled to respond. Before any words would come to him however, a man with a vaguely familiar face had appeared behind Ginny with a bottle of Butterbeer in his hand. "Here you are, Love," said the man Harry instantly hated, as he placed the glass bottle down on the table in front of Ginny.
"Thank you, Dean, dear." Dean Thomas. The boy Ginny had dated briefly before their romance had began. Dean glanced up at that moment and noticed Harry standing there. A smile twisted his lips upwards as he strode around the table and proffered a hand to Harry for him to shake. Harry didn't say a word, he simply looked down at the hand that Dean was holding out to him. For a moment he did nothing but stare at it, but eventually he snapped back to reality and remembering his promise to Hermione, Harry took the hand in his and gave it one limp, unenthusiastic pump with his own. "Good to see you again, Harry! It's been, what? Ten years? Blimey!"
"Er-yeah, it's been a while....," Harry trailed off, still unsure how he was supposed to react. He'd always rather liked Dean, but a very strong dislike coursed through his veins now that he knew he was back together with Ginny. Very strong. Perhaps sensing the growing discord, Mrs. Weasley chose that precise moment to clap her hands together and proclaim it time to eat. "Everyone out into the back yard, please. It's too cramped in here," she trilled as the Weasleys, Hermione, Dean, Fleur, and Angelina, George's wife, all began to file outside. Harry started to follow their lead, but noticed with a small shock that Ginny had remained seated at the table. Unsure of himself, Harry fell back from the others and looked toward Ginny, waiting for her to say or do something. "So, how have you been, Harry?," she asked at long last.
"Er-fine, I suppose..."
"You're not fine. You never were able to lie to me."
"No, I suppose not. I'm pretty much the same as I was when you left me."
"I had to leave, you know? I just couldn't sit by and watch you destroy yourself anymore. It hurt too much. I just wanted to tell you that. That I didn't leave because I stopped loving you. I left because I love you. Loved you."
"Well, that sounds pretty mad to me! Whoever heard of someone leaving their boyfriend because they loved them?"
"I didn't expect you to understand. You always were a bit stunted in the emotions department. You and Ronald both. All I wanted to say is that I have missed you and thought about you nearly every day. I was hoping that you'd be better off by now, but I see that isn't so."
"I'm getting along just fine without you, thank you very much!" Ginny rolled her eyes at this exclamation.
"Obviously," she retorted before turning on her heel and storming out into the yard to join the others. Harry stood there rooted to the spot with his jaw wide open, disbelieving the conversation he'd just had with the love of his life. The love he seemed to have lost for good.
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