About Harry

Chapter 25 - Consoling each other

He felt a sickness inside, a constriction in his chest that didn't loosen his grip replacing the anger that had disappeared the moment he had took that step that brought him home.
'He is out' he said to Ginny opening the door. No other words were added; he didn't want to talk about it. She sensed it and nodded grimly getting back to the living room. He headed to the bedroom instead and lied down on the bed staring at the ceiling, without seeing it, lost in unhappy reflections. He knew very well he would miss him. But he realised that lately theirs had become an unhealthy friendship by Ron's side. And Harry, from now on, could never forget that because of him he had lost his daughter. It had been an accident, Harry realised it well enough, but it was the drop. He could never see Ron in the same light again. He could not look at him without seeing Lily dropping on the ground by his hand.
Nevertheless, after having lost a daughter, that day he had lost his best friend too. And none of the two would ever be back.
That same evening Ginny and Harry decided to get a week off from work. Harry couldn't bear the idea to return there. He would have meant to face all the curious stares, the possible questions he didn't want to answer, the pity in his colleagues' eyes. He wasn't ready. Not yet.
The first few days Harry wanted to avoid staying inside. The silence was overwhelming and unusual. He didn't feel at ease. It was too blatant that something was missing. He preferred to be outside breathing fresh hair and moving.
Ginny refused categorically to stay behind. She was a good runner too; they divided the time between running and walking. And while he was doing his workout, she would do her own.
Days were cold but bright and, on the whole, they were soothing moments after the turmoil that had devastated their family and minds.
They enjoyed each other company and it was something that they scarcely had the opportunity to indulge before. They started to have children very young, not because they choose it but because it had happened. Despite this they never regretted it but Harry, time to time, had missed having some time with her alone. Those moments were always few and precious.
It helped him to have her with him. She was very positive and strong minded. After the first few days she wouldn't weep anymore in front of him, she would just smile and try to be cheerful. He spotted her a few times with rimmed red eyes, but she was trying very hard not to be found out. He perceived it and didn't mention it.
She was doing it for him; she knew he wasn't coping very well and of the two he was definitely the more unstable. Harry noticed all this and was grateful. It was indeed helping him not to have her sorrow in front of his eyes all the time. It was heart-breaking to him. It was unfair on her regard; Harry was aware of it. She would have deserved to be comforted; she was suffering as much as him, but he would have only grieved more being uncapable of doing something for her. He was trying very hard, for her sake, to keep himself up and don't fall into despondency, and that was as much as he could do.
By the middle of the week rain started pouring down and they were obliged to stay inside. They took refuge in bed, and they started consoling each other the only way they knew how.
It was another almost new experience to them. Having always kids in the house made it difficult to find the time, energy and occasion to be intimate. Usually being silent affairs during the night when they would be sure not to be disturbed.
Now, they had all the time they wanted. To Harry it was a way to escape, to nullify what was surrounding them.
For four days they never left the bed. Sleeping and talking. Sometimes they would just stare at each other in silence each lost in their own unhappy thoughts. That's when they started to make love, right before feeling overwhelmed, to chase away dejection. They didn't eat much. Neither of them wanted to cook.
By Monday, Harry, wearing his jeans to go to work (he would rarely wear his wizarding robe, he didn't feel too comfortable in it) realised that they were a bit loose, and while shaving he perceived his face slightly sunken. Since Christmas he didn't take many proper meals, and it was starting to show.
He pointed it out to Ginny just out of the shower
'Well, if you don't eat you can hardly expect the opposite, don't you?' she pointed out drying her hair with a towel.
Her skin was a nice tinge of pink warmed by the hot shower, beaded all over by droplets of water.
'Unlike me you look lovely and healthy' he said aroused at that sight. He took her in his arms, sucking the drops between the neck and the shoulder. He tried to undo the towels from around her body 'Why don't we take a couple of days more?' he whispered.
She laughed pushing him away, readjusting the towel 'When is it enough?' and then she added more seriously 'No Harry. We need to return to work. It's going to do us some good'.
'Do you think so? I know what does me good and it's not going back to the office' trying to pull her again against him but she kept him away 'Yes, it is. We need to return to a normal life. We are just pushing away the moment.'
Harry sighed looking at his sunken face in the mirror 'I don't think I'm ready.'
'You will never be. And if you wait it's going to be harder' she answered caressing his back 'Now get out of this bathroom, go down and eat some breakfast while I get ready' she added suddenly stern pushing him toward the door.

Harry got to the ministry on time and tried as much as possible to behave as nothing ever happened to him but with the feeling of not managing it very well. He could sense morbid stares from the moment he put his feet in the building; it was difficult to ignore. When he got the lift, he started to grow very uneasy by all this unwanted attention. Thankfully, like a breath of fresh air, Elizabeth was waiting for him behind her desk, smiling a comforting smile. She gave him business correspondence and unfortunately still many not work-related envelopes and reminded him of all his appointments, but she didn't ask him how he was or mentioned his absence. He felt grateful but he couldn't' expect the same courtesy from everybody else.
His colleagues had solicitude depicted on their faces. They didn't say much when he got there but by the end of the morning one by one, they paid him a visit in his office to say a few words of condolence. The women hugging him and the man shaking hands.
It is not that Harry wasn't warmed by their will to show him sympathy. They were all nice and sincerely sorry for him. He appreciated it but it was awkward on both sides; it was difficult to concentrate and try to keep grief under control when everybody was reminding you that you had a very good reason to let go to it.
People from other departments weren't as tactful however, and some of them actually tried to engage him in a conversation about it. Harry couldn't believe it. He had some job mastering his temper and not tell them to fuck off. Which proved to be an almost disempowering temptation.
By the end of the day, he was exhausted and really dejected. He only wished to see a friendly face that, by the way, probably, felt as bad as him.
He made for the Law Enforcement department looking for Hermione, but she wasn't there. Her office was empty and the light off. He was about to go thinking she would be in a meeting or somewhere else in the Ministry when one of her colleagues, a blonde, tall witch, called for his attention 'Hello, Harry! Are you looking for Hermione Granger?'
He nodded 'Do you know where she is?'
'She didn't come to work today' she said looking a bit awkward 'Actually she never got back from Christmas holidays.'
A bell of alarm started to ring in Harry's head 'How come?' he asked.
'Well... You know... Her husband... We think...' she gabbled sheepishly riffling through some papers on her desk.
'Ok, ok. I got it. Thank you' he interjected abruptly to save her from the embarrassment and, not less importantly, to save himself from hearing condolences again. Although, as he was about to go, she took his arm and, addressing him an unbelievably fake concerned expression, said 'Harry, if you feel like talking about what happened over a cup of tea at my place, you are welcome anytime' and staring at him meaningfully she concluded 'I'm a great listener....'
What the hell??? I don't even know her name! Are the people insane or what?!
'Ergh... thank you' he stammered 'you are very kind... but I don't really want to talk about it'
And I'm married for god's sake! And in mourning!

As soon as he was home, he started pacing up and down the living room, punctuating almost every stride with a look to the clock, anxiously waiting for Ginny.
He was very worried about Hermione. She was one of those people that lived for work, committed to an almost ridiculous degree, she had to be forced in taking a summer holiday. She would never and ever get an additional week off unless something serious had occurred. All kind of dreadful ideas started to spin in Harry's head. It could only be imputed to Ron's behaviour. What was the prat making Hermione endure now? In a fit of perverseness, he hoped that she would chuck him for good. Ginny was right, she deserved something better.
As he was formulating these thoughts, he heard Ginny opening the door. He found her encumbered by shopping bags. Harry released her from them heading again toward the kitchen and placing everything on the kitchen table.
'How was your day?' She asked starting to fish boxes from them.
'Lousy' he answered taking them and storing them away in different cupboards.
'Elaborate...'
He snorted 'Awkward moments, stupid questions, rude people... Ah! And an offer of an easy shag masked by a cup of tea proposal...'
She arched an eyebrow 'Better than mine then. I had them all but the shag offering'
'I hope so' he said closing the cupboard with more energy than it required 'I'll make it regret to whoever tries'
'Mmmh.. I'd better not to tell you then if it happens...'
'You'll tell me all right. What's all this stuff anyway?' he asked observing the still many wrappers clearly not part of Ginny's grocery shopping.
'Presents. From people at work. You know, Rosemary made the bread, Martha the cake and the biscuits are from Melissa.' She exclaimed pointing to every item while slouching on the closest chair.
'What about this?' he asked pointing to a shiny purple sphere all covered with black needles half hidden by all the others hand-made packets.
'It's from Luna. She sent it with an owl a few days ago. It's a stone from Nicaragua, it absorbs melancholy, or so she says.' she added smiling at the baffled look on Harry's face while observing the strange object.
'And how does it work? Knowing Luna I suppose I should walk keeping it balanced on my head'
She giggled 'No, you just leave it on your desk.'
'Charming.' He muttered sceptic, remembering the supposedly Crumple-Horned Snorkack in Luna's place that turned out to be a highly dangerous article that could explode and the slightest touch. He wondered if it was advisable to keep the stone in the house. But in the end, with a shrug, he considered that in case it would explode, the confusion created would have certainly, if not absorbed, at least drove away melancholy substituting it with a practical panic of not letting the house burn down.
He placed it on shelf, together with some family pictures. Seeing it, all the family components in the photo, him included, pressed themselves on the other side of the frame, as far away as possible from the doubtful object with a clear preoccupied expression.
He then sat on a chair beside Ginny 'Hermione hasn't been to work since the 3rd' he stated.
A look of concern passed over her face 'Why do you think?'
'The shag offerer said that was because of Ron.'
'Did she? Has she got a name too?' she asked with an arch look.
'Probably, but I don't know it. Should we check?'
'You check nothing! I don't want you to speak to her again!' she hissed anger flashing in her eyes.
'I meant checking on Hermione.' he replied trying not to smile.
'Ah...' she regained her composure 'Well... I'm not sure whether it is wise to go to their place right at this very moment.'
'Could you write her a letter?' Harry asked imploringly.
'Why don't you do it?' she snapped.
'Because you are better than me'
He wouldn't even know where to start and he didn't want to send her something that Ron could see.
Ginny looked at him suspiciously, probably imagining the reason Harry didn't acknowledge.
'How are we going to send it?'
They never got an owl despite it would have been useful and kids were very vocal on it, because in London it would attract too much attention. They would just use the fire normally but in this occasion, they needed to be able to talk only to Hermione.
'You just write it. I'll pop by Diagon alley, and I'll borrow Leo from George.'
'Ok' she said relenting 'But you will prepare dinner while I'm writing. I want us to get a proper meal. After you eat you can go'
'Yes mummy' he answered playfully while getting from a drawer some ink and parchment for her.

London was quiet and few people were about at that hour. He took the first bus passing in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. They didn't have a car. Harry never learned how to drive one and it is not that they really needed it even though sometimes it could be difficult to move around in London for magical people as they couldn't use brooms either; it was a bit of a hazard with so many muggles around, so they would use muggles public transportation instead. That night, he could have apparated there, but Harry liked to get the bus especially late in the evening when streets were empty.
When he got to the Leaky Cauldron, few customers were scattered around the tables and every eye was on him instantly. He wished he never left his invisibility cloak to James; he had used it time to time on similar occasions and now he was deprived of that shield protecting him. He walked as quickly as possible nodding only briefly to the bar keeper, not be harassed needlessly and in a second found himself in Diagon Alley.
Here, like the streets of London, was almost deserted. All shops were closed, and everybody was at home trying to keep warm in the cold night.
George too was at home and on opening the door he welcomed him with a tired expression 'Come on in, I'm having dinner.'
'It's ten o'clock' Harry pointed out entering the room where a blithe fire was enlightening the ever present confusion.
'I know but I had an idea about a new product, and I wanted to try it out. I'm just done. Do you wanna join?'
'No thank you I've already eaten'.
'It doesn't look like' he affirmed with a critic glance freeing a chair from a bunch of parchment full of sketches. The table had disappeared under undecipherable objects as mechanic device, colourful powders, half shells of some exotic fruit.
'I haven't been very hungry lately' Harry explained rising his eyes from that clutter imagining he was probably referring to his gaunt face.
'I know...' he muttered subdued returning to his pie placed on the table's only empty space, still half wrapped in its paper bag.
Strangely enough, that sentence, as simple and trivial as it was, had a strange effect on Harry. He realised at that precise moment that George truly could figure how it felt. He didn't bother him with an ordinary affirmation, he didn't need to. He had lived it all with Fred's death years before and it is not something you forget in a hurry. He felt less lonely all of sudden, and much less uneasy.
'George, I need to burrow Leo.' He said as he took the letter from his pocket 'I'm worried about Hermione. She hasn't showed up at work for already a week, we want to send her this'.
'He is out hunting. But I will give it to him when he gets back' George replied taking the letter. He observed it wistfully and then, daring a swift glance to harry, mumbled 'It is probably because of Ron.'
'Do you know something? What happened?' Harry asked eager.
'I don't know exactly what's happening there, but last week Ron showed up for work' he avowed putting the letter down and wrapping back his unfinished meal 'It hasn't been nice'.
'How come?'
'Well...' George started to tell 'the trip here wasn't fun. Many people glared. Some insulted him more or less openly. There were people from the Daily Prophet and some other magazines who wanted to write an article on what happened. They accused him of murder to have a reaction from his side when he ignored them. And once here, well...' he stared in front of him trying to find the right words 'he hid in the back, but it was in a miserable state of mind. He couldn't work. I got there a couple of times to check, and he was just staring at the papers on the desk. After a few hours I took pity, and I sent him home by floopowder' he shook his head 'Hermione for sure is having a hard time, I honestly much preferred him when he was angry at you, at least he was responding.'
Shit, shit and shit! Why and why do I have to worry over Ron??
Despite the revengeful part of Harry was very well satisfied with was happening to him, there was also the sensible part that felt pity. In a normal situation it would have been horrible enough for Ron but not only he had to endure the sense of guilt in having accidentally killed Lily but at the same time he had done it in front of Hugo's eyes, and the whole magical community considered him the worst of beings. But what it really bothered Harry was Hermione, trapped in that situation without having any fault in it.
Harry sighed running a hand in his hair.
'Perhaps Hermione and Ginny were wrong in wanting him out of Azkaban. Perhaps it would have been kinder to leave him there for the time being' George added looking out of the windows where they could see Leo flying towards them.