||Black Scarves and Careless Hearts|| A Dramione Fanfic

22. The Departure

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"The ones that love us never really leave us."
~Padfoot
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On Saturday, Hermione  was at the Burrow at six in the morning.

It was all so much of a bustle that Hermione felt like she was back in their Hogwarts days. 

"Ron, you left your laundered clothes on the washing line!" Molly shouted up the stairs, to which Ron only answered by a yelled 'sorry'. Molly huffed and summoned his clothes, and dumped them into Hermione's arms, "Take them to him, dear. Goodness knows when that boy will start taking care of himself."

Hermione began the precarious climb with her vision half obscured by the pile of clothes that smelled like lime and Ron. 

"Oh, sorry," Ginny mumbled when she ran past Hermione to get downstairs, carrying one of her bags over her shoulder, "Harry can't find his glasses, help him, will you?"

Hermione nodded and hurried on. When she reached Ron's room, she dumped his clothes onto his bed, "You should begin taking care of yourself, Ron."

"I've got you and mum and Ginny for that," he said with a grateful smile and a hurried hug. 

"Where's Harry? Apparently he can't find his glasses," Hermione waved her wand, and the clothes folded themselves and fell neatly into Ron's open trunk. 

"Next room," Ron said from under the bed. He was looking for his precious pair of Chudley Cannon socks, "You're brilliant, Hermione. Just brilliant."

Hermione, with her cheeks a little pink, peeked around the door of the next room to find Harry cramming all his belongings into his trunk higgledy piggledy. 

"Let me help," the trunk organised itself in a few moments. The socks rolled themselves, the t-shirts that had been tossed inside were folded, the few trousers were arranged neatly in a stack and his large, furry coats shrunk to fit. Harry have her a look of gratitude. 

"Did you find your glasses?" Hermione picked up the books Harry had stacked to take with him and placed it in the trunk. 

"Yes, it was on the bedside table," Harry said sheepishly. He hurriedly pulled some papers out from his cabinet and tossed them inside the trunk. 

Something about the way he was packing was different from Ron's. He collected all his things - the photographs of him and Ginny, the album of his parents, his snitch, the Mokeskin pouch, and Hermione also noticed that all of his clothes were gone from their place in the wardrobe. Even the summer clothes, which he wouldn't be needing.

"Harry-"

"I have to tell you something," Harry said the moment Hermione had spoken, as if he had known she was about to ask. He was holding a box of photographs that Ginny had gifted him a year ago on his birthday.

"Okay," Hermione's mind was already switching to overdrive as she thought about what he might have to tell her. 

"I'm moving to Grimmauld Place," he said, not sounding nervous or hesitant at all.

He had been planning this for some time. 

"Why?" Hermione asked, "Molly won't like it at all, Harry, you know how much she and Arthur love to have you here."

"I know, and I love them for it," Harry said, and for the first time there was a hint of sadness in his voice, "But I don't want to go on living like this. I feel like a burden."

"Molly would hex you if she heard you saying this," Hermione said unsmilingly. Harry ran a hand over his face and sighed harshly, sinking down onto his now-bare mattress.