" i must confess
how hard i tried to breathe
through the trees of loneliness "

The next few days passed by in a rushed hurry that was instigated by Mrs. Weasley's brutal determination to prepare the house for the wedding and to separate Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Quite often, both these goals were accomplished at the same time.

"I think Mum thinks that if she can stop the three of you getting together and planning, she'll be able to delay you leaving," Ginny admitted to Harry one night as they set the table for dinner together.

"And then what does she think's going to happen," Harry scoffed. "Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?"

Ginny's blood turned cold as she stared at the boy. She had suspected it, of course, and it only made sense. But she didn't want to admit it to herself, that Harry would be leaving to try and kill Voldemort. Without her.

"So it's true?" she asked, hating how the words came out clumsily. "That's what you're trying to do?"

A flurry of emotions raced across Harry's face as he scrambled for words. "I — not — I was joking!" he insisted, though his face turned a violent shade of crimson.

But Ginny could only stare at Harry, the silverware laying forgotten on the table. This was the first time they had been alone together in months, but all Ginny could see was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Not the Harry that she had grown to care for, but the Harry Potter that waited in the Black Lake to ensure that a stranger and his friend were rescued. The Harry Potter that risked his life just to save someone else. The Harry Potter who was an annoyingly noble hero. Ginny could only see the lightning scar on his forehead, the scar that had started everything.

Ginny wanted to say something. She wanted to tell Harry that she understood what it was like to hate something with your entire being, what it was like to want someone dead. But, most of all, she wanted to ask him to take her with him when he went to kill Voldemort.

But before Ginny could say anything, the door swung open, causing both teenagers to jump in surprise. Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Kingsley walked in, oblivious to the unspoken words ringing in Ginny's mind.

Later that evening, Ginny somehow found herself sitting beside Harry at dinner. Her house was more crowded than ever, seeing as the Burrow had somehow replaced Grimmauld Place as headquarters for the Order. As they ate, Ginny couldn't help but notice the way Harry shifted himself away from her to avoid their arms brushing.

A deep ocean seemed to swallow Ginny as Harry asked Bill a question, which was clearly a part of his plan to avoid Ginny. There was something broken that stood between Harry and Ginny, something that they both tried to ignore. It had been there ever since they had broken up

"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley loudly, drawing Ginny's attention.

Her father shook his head in response, his mouth too full of food to answer verbally.

"Because they knew I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?" Harry continued.

Ginny choked on a chunk of bread at his bluntness.

"The latter, I think," Mr. Weasley said after swallowing. "Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."

"Yeah, why tell the public the truth?" Harry said boldly, his knife clenched tightly in his hand, causing the scar to stand out on his pale skin: I must not tell lies. Ginny's stomach twisted violently at the sight of it, and the memory of the toad who had put it there.

"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food, his face turning red from heated anger.

"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked!" responded Mr. Weasley with a passionate fervor. "There are nasty rumors going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he's working on a plan."

A silence followed Mr. Weasley's outburst. Ginny clenched her fork tightly in her hand; she agreed with Ron and his anger. There were people in the Ministry who could do something, which was a power that Ginny didn't have. Especially since she was an underaged witch with six older brothers.

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur, swiftly changing the topic. "For ze wedding. Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."

"Yes, good point," Mrs. Weasley replied, obviously relieved at the much lighter conversation topic. She pulled a long list up on the table and scanned it silently. "Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"

"Why?" complained Ron, giving his mother a glare. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"

Mrs. Weasley glared back at her son. "We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man —"

"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" Ron heatedly retorted. Ginny released a laugh that went unnoticed as Ron continued. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left —"

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" said Mr. Weasley, interrupting whatever Ron was going to say, much to Ginny's disappointment. "And do as you're told."

Ginny made a face at Ron, who promptly ignored her and counted eating his apple tart.

"I can help, some of it's my mess," Harry said eagerly.

"No," Mrs. Weasley said at once, "Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning."

Dessert ending hastily and Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly left the table to complete the assigned chores. Ginny dismissed herself too, and followed.

Harry had already walked outside and Ron up the stairs, but Ginny managed to catch up to Hermione before the girl had time to follow Ron.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, grabbing at her sleeve. "Can I talk with you?"

Hermione nodded, though her brown eyes shone with confusion. Ginny led her down the hall and into the sitting room.

"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" Ginny asked without preamble. "I won't tell anyone," she added as Hermione's eyes widened. "I just wanted to know."

"Yes, I think so," Hermione whispered. "After the wedding; we convinced Harry to stay that long."

"And do you have a plan?" Ginny pressed. "Do you know where you'll be going?"

Hermione shook her head. "All I know is that we're looking for Horocruxes, but we don't know what or where they could be! But I haven't dared mention that to Harry, not yet at least."

Ginny nodded as the girl spoke, but her mind was racing. Of course they were going without her; it wouldn't make sense if they brought her along. But a part of Ginny crumbled. Was she supposed to let them leave to complete a mission that she had dreamed of doing for years? How was she to explain to Hermione that the thought of killing Voldemort had kept her sane since First Year?

If she said that, Ginny would seem like a monster.

So she just smiled at Hermione. "I'd pack for Ron, if I were you. I don't know if you've noticed, but he's not organized and isn't highly motivated."

Hermione laughed almost nervously. "I've already packed most of the essentials—except for what's still in the wash, of course. But I don't think Harry and Ron have thought much about that sort of thing; they're too busy trying to figure out where we could find the horocruxes, not what they'll wear while doing so."

Ginny laughed before pulling the girl into a hug. Hermione stiffened, but only for a second before melting into her arms.

"Just be careful, okay?" Ginny whispered, her words getting lost in Hermione's bushy hair.

Hermione pulled away smiling. "You don't have to worry," was all she said before walking up the stairs.

But Ginny stayed in the sitting room, even as she heard Harry re-enter the house minutes later, his careful footsteps near silent as he crept up the stairs. She sat numbly in a chair, bringing her knees up to rest her chin on.

It felt too much like a goodbye.