"What's gotten your saggy left sock in a fix, mate?"

"My left sock is perfectly fine, thank you."

After the uneventful tour, Harry found himself face first into his soft pillow. Nevertheless, it did nothing to soothe his mental pain and they way his heart had clenched tightly. The atmosphere at Grimmauld Place was not helping his mood either and with his friends standing by the bedside, it was even worse.

"No, Harry. I insist—" Harry groaned. Leave it to Hermione to force the information out of your throat. "that you tell us what happened between you and Ginny, right now!"

"Judging by the lost look in his eyes, it did not end well," Ron commented, forcing Harry to look at him sharply. "Quick, take that pillow!"

"Accio pillow!"

Harry's pillow zoomed out of his arms and into Hermione's. She threw it on the couch and folded her arms, waiting with little patience for him to speak up. Harry groaned again.

"Would you two leave me alone?"

"No." They answered in unison, each mimicking the other's posture and facial expression that Harry would have found it hard to believe they were not related to each other, yet.

"What do you want?"

Ron rolled his eyes in a very Hermione-ish manner. "To tell us what happened yesterday and why you both are in such foul moods."

For a split moment, Harry wished to record his groan and play it on loop to bug his friends out of his room. Unfortunately for him, Sirius' mother's portrait never allowed the admission of any Muggle instrument, no matter how insignificant it was. She would shout her throat out whenever such items were brought into the property.

Finding that his friends were not going to go away without a satiable explanation, Harry spoke up, this time digging his face into the mattress as a source of comfort. "Er, I sort of broke it all."

"You broke up with her?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"How can I? I was never dating her in the first place, Hermione!" Harry retorted, his voice mulling over again. "I just told her that she'd be better off with that bloke she's seeing right now instead of waiting on me because I'm never going to be able to keep her safe and out of harm's reach."

Ron's deep sigh filled the silence. "Blimey, Hermione, but you saying I was a wall is a compliment. Harry's a newly formed stone."

"Hey! I'm not a dense person!"

"You're right, Harry. You're not dense." Hermione's statement filled a tiny ray of pride in his heart but it was ephemeral. "You're the literal example of dense. I'm sorry it came out harsh."

Harry stayed still in his place, hoping to not open the bottled anger on them instead. His head started throbbing with all the mood swings he had inflicted upon himself within the matter of few hours.

"No, but what even made you think my sister isn't safe now? I mean, You-Know-Who is gone and there's no more a threat of war—"

"Don't tell me you don't know the approximate amount of furious and vengeful death eaters waiting to murder me." A tense silence followed before Harry added hesitantly. "Besides. . . an astrologer told I have one heck of a week ahead."

"Pardon, mate?"

"Are you kidding me? Don't tell me you've come to believe that rubbish, Harry!"

Harry winced at their reactions before trying to defend himself by explaining how authentic the guy had been the day before when it came to his predictions. Ron contemplated the matter but Hermione seemed to be unfazed by the entire ordeal. She let out another outburst of how nonsensical he was acting before leaving the place. The entire house had been silent for ten long minutes. These ten minutes were the most excruciating silence that Harry had been in for sometime.

Ron slumped on the couch, tossing Harry's pillow back to him in the process. "You. . . believe him?" Harry asked, slowly.

Ron took a couple of seconds to answer, but when he did his voice shook. "Sorta. . . I mean, Trelawney's ruddy prophecy was the reason behind all these damned misadventures. If this guy was really good with making you believe, then I don't see the reason to not accept the prediction. Besides," he paused and grimaced, sticking his tongue out unapologetically. "blimey, but it's not like your life has ever been great!"

Harry's eyes met Ron's before he averted his gaze to the posters in his godfather's room. There was one of a cool-looking motorcycle that Harry doubted Sirius owned at some point of his life. Beside that was a rather illustrious, stubborn poster of a scantily clad woman that had been stuck there with the strongest adhesive charm Harry ever stumbled across. No matter what he, or even Mr Weasley for that matter, did it made no move to peel off.

"Did you already move on, mate?" Ron's teasing remark broke him out of his reverie and he fell onto the bed, his cheeks colouring in embarrassment.

"Oi, shut it. I did try though."

"Try what? Taking the poster off? I know you and Dad —"

"No, not the poster. I mean, I did try to take it off but y'know," Harry trailed off.

"What did you try, then?"

"I tried. . .really hard to move on. . .but — but I still–" Harry's eyes burned and he bit his lip from trembling. "I still love her." The confession seemed to have cost him more of bravery than Voldemort had ever seen. Harry turned to his side, unable to face Ron's face, knowing that his friend would rather sympathize with him than confront him about his cowardice regarding the matter of love.

"Er, mate, you know very well that I suck at advices but I don't think you as any less just because of, y'know, not being able to move on. If I were in your shoes with Hermione there instead, Merlin, I don't think I would be half as bold as you're putting a show of."

"I hoped to I never lose her. I hoped it would never end. . ." Harry paused, sucking in as much as air as he could to utter the next words. "I'd never walk St Ottery Street again. That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend."

"Oi!" Ron's sudden yell perked his ears. "Those rubbish words that you spoke yesterday doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't still harbour feelings for you." Feelings for me. Those words made Harry's heart skip a beat.

"No, Ron! I was pretty harsh on her —"

"And you think Ginny would even take it to her heart? Is that all you know about her? Do you think her fierce attitude will just disappear because of those words?"

"I-I dunno," Harry admitted. The last time he had told her that they had to stop seeing each other, she had been stubborn but never insensitive. Maybe her reaction the day before was similar to his sixth year but Harry's mind was too clouded to recollect how exactly it had been. The only memory that was crystal clear to him was the hurt eyes and the sad smile that they had shared. Technically, it had not been a smile, either. "But nothing lasts forever. . .does it?"

"On Merlin's long beard, you both are the thickest heads ever!" Ron exclaimed. Harry could imagine Ron doing an hopeless action but he had long since closed his eyes to avoid them from burning; the tears still flowed. "How can you not see the way she looks at you or even the colour in her cheeks when you talk to her?! She —" The rest of Ron's drowned in Harry's hearing as his mind raced. Whatever his friend was telling would normally comfort him but Harry had just cut the last strand off for them to work with any magic.

She hates me now.

With that thought, he drifted into a state of unconsciousness.

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