𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬- 𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Harry- 4. Until the World Ends

Before I start, just a small note, the reader is the youngest Weasley.

Warnings: mentions of blood

_

A part of him missed her terribly, and a part couldn't help but feel guilty.

What did he do wrong? Where did he go wrong?

He would never know unless he talked to her. And he knew he would never want to face her at the present circumstances.

And a certain red-haired Weasley was experiencing his pain, just standing, watching his eyes mimick the ripping waves of the Black Lake, just on a green landing.

The way his eyes stared lifelessly at the murky backyard of the Burrow, where there was an occasional rustle of tripping and falling gnomes, made her heart clench itself tightly.

Time and again, she had seen him mourning, but not with this intensity.

Cautiously, she slipped towards him, not daring to blink away his sorrows, not daring to break down before him. She felt guilty for the current situation, even more than him.

She was her sister; wasn't everything evident to her? Then why? Why did she even see the possibilities of Ginny's future with him? Maybe, just because of whatever happened back at Hogwarts...maybe, because of that different glint swirling in his orbs at her sight...

And he was so lost in the tandem of loss and culpability, his trained ears didn't catch the excruciating contact of her leg with a stray chair. But the sight of familiar flaming, red hair kicked panic in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

He let out a gushing breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Of course, it wasn't her. It was Y/n.

"Don't be."

And they both sat there, wordless, eyes glossy and lungs breathless.

Hesitantly, her hand reached out to his face which was red with muffled sobs, tired with memories, and frustrated by the present.

"You know?" With a flick of her specialized fingers, she removed his glasses. "You look a lot pale. Take this- you don't want to bring a healer on your bad side," she tersed out her voice as opened his mouth in denial for the glass of water.

"Where are the kids?"

"Up in my room. Mione said she will make them sleep till I'm with you."

He just gave a small nod before turning away. His emerald orbs locked with a crumpled copy of Daily Prophet.

There she was, her lips connected with someone he didn't know.

And Y/n was quick to follow his gaze.

"Reducto."

He watched the paper reducing to cinders, just like their relationship.

"Where do you think I went wrong, Y/n?"

"You didn't. Perhaps, it was Ginny."

They were interrupted by a meek knock on the kitchen door. Ron and Hermione had returned, apparently after the boys decided to drop their mischief and slept. Their daughter, Rose, was nibbling on Hermione's hoodie string with her toothless mouth.

Distancing herself from the raven-haired man, Y/n scooped up Rose in her arms as the couple talked to their best friend in hushed voice. And, by the time they were ready to disapparate back to their home, Rose had already fallen asleep.