When Ron and Hermione rose in the morning, twenty-four hours later, on the 2d of January, and came downstairs to prepare breakfast at Grimmauld Place, they found Harry in the kitchen with a cup of tea in front of him. Kreacher was rustling about his cauldrons, boiling eggs and cooking porridge.

“Merlin, Harry!” Ron exclaimed. “When did you get back? You’ve been missing four nights! We’ve been so worried…”

“Kreacher found Master in the Library this morning, he must have returned very late…” the house elf said importantly.

“I didn’t want to wake you up…” Harry muttered, avoiding to meet the eyes of his friends.

“Ron, why don’t you floo-call the Auror Office…” Hermione began to say when Harry interrupted her.

“Is Ginny here? Or is she coming by before leaving for France?”

 Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

“She spent the night at the Burrow. She’s coming by to pick up her things in a few hours. She hasn’t done much packing yet… We have the impression that she has been avoiding Grimmauld Place,” said Hermione carefully. Harry turned his head away.

“I… I don’t want to talk,” he said. “Could we just… have breakfast, please?” He gestured at Kreacher and at the table. Ron and Hermione obediently sat down, but Hermione stood up guiltily again and started to help Kreacher set the table.

Ron and Hermione made an effort to small-talk, but Harry did not say much except for convincing Ron to wait before contacting the Office. A few hours would make no difference to Mrs Steadfast, he argued. Harry barely touched the food, but stood up after they were finished and helped Kreacher clear the table. Then he sat down on the edge of a chair in the library and waited.

When Ginny arrived at Grimmauld Place a couple of hours later, Harry stood up and met her gaze through the open door of the library and down the long corridor of the entrance hall. Neither of them said anything, and Ginny turned briskly to walk up the stairs.

“Mum and Dad are coming to the station to wave me off. Departure is in a few hours only. I’ll get my things and be off,” she launched at Ron over the shoulder.

With hesitant, dragging footsteps, taking his time, Harry followed her upstairs. Mutely, he positioned himself at the doorpost and watched Ginny collect her things in a trunk with resolute and brisk efficiency. After only a minute of waiting silently, Harry turned and walked downstairs again, positioning himself at the same spot in the library as before. When Ginny returned to the hall with her trunk, Harry rose again, but did not advance towards her. Ginny took a hurried farewell of her brother and of Hermione, hugging them briefly. With a hand already on the handle of the door, she hesitated and turned around.

“I still love you, Harry,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “But this is for the best.” She tossed her head, turned around and was out of the house in one second, having shrunk her trunk in one swift wave of her wand.

Harry was staring at his own feet, body still, except for his chest which was heaving rapidly and silently, as if he willed himself not to move. When a sufficient amount of time for Ginny to have Disapparated had passed, Harry started to move with staggering steps towards the exit. Ron and Hermione tried to intercept him, tried to speak to him, but he waved them away.

“I’ll come back in the evening,” he said in a stifled voice. “I promise. You might alert Mrs Steadfast if you want, Ron. I’ll speak to her tonight, if she insists. But not Snape. I don’t want Snape to be there.”

And then, Harry, too, was gone.

***

A difficult time followed. Harry had his base at Grimmauld Place, but he often disappeared for a whole day, or part of the night, without Ron or Hermione knowing where he was. They started to get used to it, and were glad if they came across him to exchange a few words at least once every thirty-six hours.

When the programs at St Mungo’s and at the Auror Headquarters opened up after the holidays, it helped Harry to focus his mind on something. Especially at St Mungo’s, with the intriguing fates of sick and injured people, Harry could keep his own thoughts and suffering at bay for hours. He worked late in the evenings to keep himself occupied, and Healer Sheno often had to tell him, sternly, to go home and rest, or he would have stayed the whole night sometimes.

At the Auror program, they were now allowed on the big training premises and practiced battling techniques. Here Harry found an opportunity to give vent to his frustration by channelling his irritated magic into precise curses and powerful blockades. His entry on the training grounds was always a challenge for his opponents, and four weeks into the term, he was yet unbeaten, by both students and, spectacularly, by every single Auror trainer. Sometimes, though, Harry would arrive and watch his fellow students with a feverish and restless gaze. His arms would twitch and he would turn to Mrs Steadfast and say: “I need to train alone, today, Mrs Steady.” The head of the Aurors always respected his request. Snape had explained on a general level, without details, to her about Harry’s bouts of wild magic and about the security issue they posed and Mrs Steadfast had accepted it without questions. “Where are you going, Harry?” she would ask calmly. “The forest,” he would mumble, and leave.

Snape was reserved, but not repellent towards Harry. They would meet now and again when Snape gave a lecture in one of his areas of expertise at St Mungo’s. After class, Snape would try to catch Harry’s attention, but the young man always hurried out of the lecture hall without seeking contact. The same could be said when Snape turned up at the Auror Headquarters.

These days Harry was generally low and absentminded, retracting into his own thoughts and not always listening to what people said to him. He did not want to be rude, and he often apologised most politely for his inattention to his friends. With Snape it was different, however, as it seemed as if Harry had ceased to address his former professor altogether. Rather than actively antagonising him, it seemed as if Harry had given up on Snape, and expected nothing from him.

Impassive and controlled, Snape would have needed to reach out over-explicitly to the young wizard, but since he did not seem to know how to make his approach, their relationship remained on a very unsatisfactory, if not inexistent level. Mrs Steadfast who had witnessed Snape’s concern over Harry first-hand, and knew that the stern former Death Eater sincerely cared for the young man, in all well-meaning tried to compensate for their lack of communication by talking excessively herself with Harry while Snape stood mute by her side. Unfortunately, this only strengthened Harry’s conviction of Snape’s disapproval of him, and his lack of interest.

In the beginning of February, a letter arrived from Ginny, announcing without any doubt that she was now going out with her drummer and room-mate. The picture she drew of her new life in France with her new boy-friend Eric seemed to be an exciting one, although the proper season at Le Grand Eclat had not yet started. The letter plunged Harry into a new fit of despair, and for a few days he did not come home at night at Grimmauld Place. Eventually, however, it had the merit of him opening up a little bit to his closest friends, starting to talk about what he had only kept inside himself for the last month.

Ron encouraged him to let go of Ginny for a while and explore new options in life. It was more or less what Ginny herself had told Harry to do in her letter, advocating free love and the merits of exploring relationships. Harry had a vague suspicion that Ron had asked Ginny to write to him in a plea to help Harry move on, because there was not much personal content in the letter, but more of general information about her current life mixed with fleeting opinions.

Ron and Harry’s former friends at Hogwarts with Dean and Seamus in the lead, took upon themselves to distract Harry from his misgivings. Distraction for them meant attending Quidditch games and doing pub rounds. Confused by Ginny’s letter and tired of isolating himself, Harry let himself be dragged around, abandoning moreover his former cautious approach to the intake of alcohol. Hermione was not all too approving when Ron returned late at night supporting a reeling Harry who, moreover, still had a propensity for sickness and who easily threw up.

The relationship between Ron and Harry was thus reversed on more than one occasion. Ron who used to be the irresponsible one reverted to watching over Harry. Also, cautioned by the split up between his sister and friend, Ron did not want to risk the same fate, so he listened more carefully to Hermione’s views, and the young couple seemed to be in a harmonious phase of their relationship. Feeling for Harry because of his current violent crisis, they almost felt ashamed of their own happiness.

Harry obviously did not want to be the third wheel at Grimmauld Place when Ron and Hermione had their cuddles and private moments, but overall, there was no shortage of friends who wanted to take Harry out and comfort him. The problem was quite the opposite.

One Saturday morning at the end of February, the three friends were eating a late breakfast. Harry looked pale with dark shadows under the eyes, but his friends were used to it by now and did not attribute it to anything new. He had worked hard the whole week and crammed for an exam at St Mungo’s which had taken place on the Wednesday. He had been out with his classmates from St Mungo’s the same night and had gone out again on the Thursday with Dean and Seamus and their gang. On the Friday, he had turned up late at the Auror Headquarters, launching ferociously into combat training  all afternoon and then he had declined going out with Ron and Hermione, explaining in that feverish and clammed-up fashion which they had learnt to know by now that he needed to spend more energy in the forest. To Ron’s and Hermione’s knowledge, he had returned even later than themselves.

Ron who had started to read the week-end supplement of the Daily Prophet suddenly started choking on his tea.

“Blimey, Harry! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us?” he exclaimed.

Hermione intercepted the paper as Ron was shuffling it over to Harry, and blushed while she shot Harry a shrewd look before she passed it on. Harry stared at the spread which showed two young witches, giggling and inclining their heads to the side at the photographer. He grabbed the paper convulsively to drag it towards him, so that he crumpled it along the sides. While reading, he reddened up to his hair-roots.

“Shit,” he muttered in a low voice and pushed the copy away from himself in disgust. “How could they go to the press like that?” he exclaimed indignantly and met Hermione’s scrutinizing gaze but turned his eyes away immediately.

“Two at the same time, Harry?” Ron who had recovered his paper asked incredulous and impressed. “Blimey, when you finally do something you’re sure to do it properly, aren’t you?”

Harry blushed even deeper and hid his face in his hands. He was not in the least amused and squirmed in embarrassment.

“Why?” he squeaked.

“Harry, you’re famous,” Hermione said drily. “This is what the whole community has been waiting for. You’ve been too smart until now, too proper, too controlled. And now, they’ve finally gotten something from your private life to write about.”

“But the girls…” Harry gestured helplessly at the spread. “What’s in it for them? Why would they possibly want to brag about…?” He hid his face in embarrassment again.

“They only want the attention,” Hermione said coolly.

“They’re good-looking, though,” Ron said appreciatively. “Who are they anyway?”

Harry only whimpered in answer.

“Tell us, Harry,” Hermione prodded. “It’s not the end of the world, you know. It’s only the Saturday supplement, there’s always a lot of nonsense in that part.” She paused and frowned. “Although, I don’t know why you must sound so impressed!” she added forcefully to Ron.

“What? No… I’m only… glad… for Harry’s sake, I mean,” Ron replied sheepishly.

“Glad!?” Harry exclaimed. “It was horrible! I don’t remember much of it anyway – I had had some Firewhiskey. It was on Thursday night, after I had been out with Dean and Seamus.”

“You picked two girls up on you way home?” Hermione asked sternly.

“No. No! I had met them the night before. They’re students our age. They’re training to become care-witches at St Mungo’s and I met them when I went out with my class on Wednesday. They were very nice, they said they lived together in an apartment nearby Grimmauld Place and invited me over, but I declined right then. The next night Dean tried to pair me up with various girls in the pub, and it was embarrassing to the least, because he got us a lot of attention. I got fed up with it at last, but thought on my way home, because it was still quite early, that I’d come by and say hello to these girls. They were having a party at their house and they were thrilled to let me join them.”

“Of course they were,” Hermione said drily.

“And…?” said Ron.

“And, there was a lot of booze…” Harry said self-consciously. Hermione clenched her jaws and looked at Ron who shrugged.

“Harry needs to let himself go a bit right now, Hermione. It’s not the moment to sermon him…”

“You really think it does him good? Look at him! Is this what he needs? And the attention of the press is awakened now. Everyone will know that he’s a bachelor – he’s a fair pray now.”

“The girls, at least, seem very happy and contented,” said Ron and looked down. There was a streak of envy in his voice. Harry did not seem to hear them.

“I woke up at dawn at their place, in their bed,” Harry whispered looking with empty eyes in the air. “I realised that I had made love to two girls who I knew almost nothing about. It was so awkward. I was out of there as soon as I possibly could.” He lowered his head.

“Next time, take it easier with the Firewhiskey,” Hermione restricted herself to saying.

***

Next time was a couple of weeks later. Ron had opened the door to his and Hermione’s bedroom but closed it gently again, leaving only a chink, hushing at Hermione who was behind him. Hermione opened her mouth to protest when she, too, heard the voices from further down the corridor.

“Yeah, I know, this is a spooky old house.” They heard Harry’s voice and a brighter voice, a woman’s voice, answering.

“I inherited it from my uncle,” they heard Harry explain. “Are you sure you must be leaving? Might I offer you some breakfast before you go?”

A polite declining followed. The voices were approaching.

“I work most week-ends in a shop,” the girl explained. “And I need to go by my place first to change clothes. Which is the nearest tube station did you say?”

Ron turned to Hermione with wide eyes.

“A Muggle!” he exclaimed in an excited whisper. “Harry has brought a Muggle to Grimmauld Place!”

The voices passed their door. Harry and his date were moving down the stairs.

“I didn’t expect not to come home last night,” the woman said merrily. “Since I would be working today I mean…”

Ron and Hermione suddenly heard a little squeal.

“Oh, that quite startled me! There’s a weird statue over there. It’s as if it’s staring at me. I’m almost certain that I saw it move.”

“It’s because of the dusk,” said Harry quickly. “The place’s not well lit, I’m sorry. My uncle’s family was… a creepy old gang,” he added vaguely. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to…”

“Oh, I went with you quite willingly,” the girl laughed throatily. “But you’re blushing! That’s so sweet,” she added teasingly. “We both had a bit too much to drink,” she said in a tone which now sounded quite sober, “but don’t worry, I don’t regret anything.”

Harry and the girl must have reached the bottom landing and were probably standing in front of the door. Ron and Hermione had to struggle to catch the words.

“You’re on the rebound, aren’t you?” they heard the girl say. Harry muttered something quietly in reply. “I heard you say something in your sleep,” the girl went on. “Don’t look so abashed,” she added. “I understand, I’ve been there too. You’re a nice guy, and we had a good time. I’d had liked to see you again, but I don’t expect anything. I can see that you need some more time to get over her… your previous girl-friend. When you do, don’t hesitate to call me, even if it takes some time.”

After a few mumbled words of Harry’s, Ron and Hermione heard the door close. They looked at each other and sneaked out of their room. They found Harry sitting at the lowest step of the staircase with his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard them.

“Er… That’s a different approach,” said Ron, trying to sound non-committal. “Muggle girl?” he added.

“Come have some breakfast while you tell us Harry,” said Hermione gently, because Harry looked miserable.

Ron and Hermione busied themselves with breakfast because Kreacher was nowhere to be seen. Harry was staring emptily ahead of himself.

“Will you accompany us to the Burrow today, Harry?” asked Ron. “Mum and Dad really want to see you. You’ve only come by twice since Christmas.”

“Hum…” Harry said absentmindedly. “I’m working extra at St Mungo’s today. But I’ll be glad to come by later, especially if Mrs Tonks and Teddy are there. They usually are on Sundays, aren’t they?” Harry continued after a pause: “I have nothing against your parents, Ron. They know they’re kind of like surrogate parents for me, don’t they?” Harry’s voice broke and he looked anxiously at Ron.

“We know, Harry. Don’t worry, they understand why visiting the Burrow is hard for you right now. They’ll be glad if you come, though,” Ron hastened to comfort his friend. “A bit complicated, wouldn’t it be?” he added. “With a Muggle girl-friend, I mean?”

“I’m not… I’m not getting a Muggle girl-friend, Ron,” Harry muttered in a stifled voice. “It was just… only a one night thing… I… I… needed to try it… with someone who wouldn’t run to the Daily Prophet, I mean… This is what she wants me to do, is it?” Harry sounded slightly aggressive and not a little desperate.

“Who…?” said Ron, but Hermione laid a hand on his arm to stop him. Harry had risen at the table and stared at his hands which were twitching slightly. He tried to clench and unclench them, closing his eyes and pulling his shoulders up to his ears before relaxing them in an apparent attempt to calm himself.

“Harry, you don’t have to do what you think Ginny wants you to do,” Hermione said quietly. “Take your time. Ron’s right – a Muggle at Grimmauld Place is really complicated. We heard her startle at the sight of one of the decorations! Imagine what would have happened if she had come across Kreacher…”

Harry stared at her.

“That was Kreacher!” he said blandly, taking a step backwards, turning his chair over. “I had to petrify him behind her back. Shit, I need to go and release him. Merlin, now even Kreacher is falling victim to my stupid stunts…”

Ron and Hermione heard him mutter reproaches and accusations at himself as he hurried out of the kitchen.