When he'd imagined this moment, Harry had guessed that he would feel sad. Lonely, maybe. Unwanted. Lost.

He hadn't prepared himself for feeling nothing.

Across the coffee-stained table, Ginny watched him with her big brown eyes, trying to spot in him an emotion that couldn't come forward. He searched for the right thing to say, but didn't find any of the words he needed.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, eventually. "Okay?"

"Fine," Harry managed, and attempted a small smile. "It's okay. Don't worry about me. I think we both knew this was happening."

"I don't want us to be awkward, or to stop talking," Ginny said. "I love you a lot, even if it's not-"

"Yeah, I know." Harry smiled more genuinely this time. "I feel the same way about you, Gin."

"It was fun while it lasted."

"Yeah."

"I'm sure you'll find someone who-"

"Ginny, really, don't bother."

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

An awkward silence fell between them.

"So," Harry said, with a sense of finality.

"Yeah," Ginny stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Have a great year."

"You too. I'll see you at Christmas probably, at the Burrow."

"Yeah."

"See you."

"Yeah."

He watched her walk away, her dazzling hair making her seem brighter than everyone else in the crowded cafe. She walked with a boyish confidence that somehow made her femininity even more alluring, her muscular arms balancing out her curves. She was beautiful, anyone could see that. But Harry saw more than just her looks. He saw his sister, the girl he had watched grow up - with whom he'd had conversations late at night about life and death and all in between, but also had furious quidditch matches in the mud and pouring rain. He saw the girl who had kissed him so fervently when the war had ended, but he also saw the face of his best friend's mother, his own surrogate family, when she laughed and when she cried.

He saw a girl who could never have stayed with him, and he knew that in the end, this was how it had to be.

After Ginny had disappeared from view, Harry sat and slowly drank the remains of his lukewarm hot chocolate, staring out of the window into the rain outside. Eventually, he stood, and walked out into the angry winds and clinging rain, not bothering to pull his jacket around him.

Alone, again.