A/N: I know the last thing I should be doing is starting another one, but I can't resist!

Chapter One
Hopeless Healing

"Harry! Harry, wake up, mate! It's just a dream!" a distant voice called out. The thrashing boy on the narrow cot jerked awake with a gasp. Harry Potter's emerald eyes were wide and unseeing as he struggled to catch his breath. The red head perched on the bed tucked in beside his waited patiently for the boy to regain his senses, not taking offense to the lack of acknowledgement. A soft voice murmured reassurances to Harry as he slowly grasped onto reality once again.

"Sorry, I do hate that I keep waking you," Harry apologized sheepishly before sinking back into the bed. He pulled the covers up and over his shoulders and tried not to let the tears loose. A comforting hand on is arm relaxed some of the tension lingering from his nightmare. "It's okay to cry, Harry."

The boy buried his face into his pillow before asking, "Is it, really? It doesn't accomplish anything. And, sometimes, I feel like if I start, I won't ever stop."

"I know, I know. Just trust me, Harry. Don't be afraid to. It doesn't help, no. But there's no sense in putting it off. Just think, we'll be getting away from it all tomorrow. Now get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

Harry muttered an incoherent response and drifted into a restless sleep.

"Australia?" Molly shrieked, "What do you two mean, Australia?"

"We're going to Australia, Mum," George restated for his flustered mother. "Harry and I decided-"

"Oh, you two decided, did you? What about the rest of us? How do you think the rest of the family would feel about you abandoning us for who knows how long?" the Weasley matriarch raged.

George remained levelheaded but his temper was rising. Cooly, he explained, "We're not abandoning anyone, Mum. But we need to get away for a while. Harry's had a hell of a-well, a hell of a life so far. The lad deserves a break from it all."

"And you? Leaving your family?"

"Harry's family, too. So him leaving means no more or less than me. And I need to get away, too. I need a break, too," George stated resolutely. Arthur was watching the exchange with bated breath. Ron was stuffing his face, as usual, and Ginny was conspicuously pretending to ignore the whole situation.

"And what exactly do you need a break from?"

"You lot, actually."

Molly's anger faltered, replaced by hurt. George had finally reached the end of his fuse. "I can't bloody take it anymore! Everywhere I go reminds me of him. I can't work in the shop without him. I can't sleep in my own room because it still feels like he's going to walk in the room spouting some ridiculous new idea. Every bloody mirror is the Mirror of Erised for me now! And I can't do or feel anything around anyone but Harry without being worried I'm upsetting one of you. I need to grieve on my own. And maybe that's selfish. I mean, he was your son, your brother, too. But he was my other half, and I can't begin to comprehend what it means to live without that when I've got to be worried about not making you all worried about me."

Molly was spluttering, her face crimson. Arthur appeared to be holding back tears. Ron, with his teaspoon sized emotional range, was avoiding looking at his brother, unsure how to react.

In the wake following George's outburst, the most impassioned display of emotion he'd shown his family since the death of his twin, Harry stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have been an amazing support to me through all of this. I can't imagine where I'd be without you. And that's why I think this is a good idea. I've never been on my own with no one deciding my fate for me. I want to just live. And it's hard to move on when you're still in the middle of it all," Harry explained in a nervous rush.

"So, what? You two have suddenly become best friends now, is it?" Ron cut in. A dark look had crossed over the ginger's usually playful features. He pushed his breakfast aside and rose to his feet.

"No, I mean, with sharing a room we've been-" Harry tried to explain.

Ron scoffed, "Yeah, of course you'd become buddy-buddy as roommates. Especially when the only reason you're sharing a room at all is because one of you is too afraid to go in his own room."

Harry felt George tense underneath his hand.

"Ronald!" Molly scolded. Ron rolled his eyes, not having any of it. "What? It's true! Ever since we got back to the Burrow, he's taken over my role in Harry and my's friendship!"

Harry shook his head. "Ron, no one's replacing anyone. And I don't mind that George has been in my room. I think it's helped the both of us…get through everything."

"I'm here, Harry. I've been here. What happened to talking to me?" Ron demanded to know. Harry didn't have an answer that wouldn't rub the boy the wrong way. He felt that he had relied too much on Ron in the past. He was trying to exercise who he was without using his friend as a crutch. Ron had seen him in enough of his dark times. He couldn't bear the thought of doing it more. And so the first night he had woken George up with one of his nightmares, Harry finally had someone to talk to again. And that night was also the first time someone managed to pull George out of his near catatonic state. It was a strange friendship that occurred mostly in the early, early hours of the morning when nightmares rampaged and loneliness destroyed. And so when Harry had suggested traveling somewhere together, George agreed immediately.

"Ron, I can't explain it. It's just something we have to do," Harry insisted.

"I don't believe this!" Ron bellowed. "First, Hermione goes and disappears without a bloody word and now you? Some friends you two are!"

Harry couldn't begrudge him. Hermione, the minute she was no longer needed following the final battle, had left a note telling everyone not to worry but that she was leaving. No one had seen or heard from her since. It was nearing six months since the boys had found her note. Ron had seen it as a betrayal, but Harry viewed it differently. Every day he understood a little better why she chose to exit the scene in such a way. He was certainly endeavoring to do it himself now.

"You know I don't blame Hermione for that, Ron. I'm sure she's got her reasons for leaving the way she did," Harry reasoned. "She went through more than we know, Ron. You can't blame her for leaving the minute she could. I still can't comprehend how incredibly resilient she is. Maybe she finally realized she didn't have to be strong for anyone anymore. She was tortured and yet she still never asked for a break. So how can you begrudge her for finally letting everything sink in?"

Ron grumbled an unintelligible response. "She still should have told us where she was going."

"You would've stopped her."

"Of course."

"That's exactly why she didn't. And you're not going to stop George and me either. None of you are. We're going to Australia for the foreseeable future. We'll keep in touch, okay?"

With a disgusted sneer, Ron stormed from the kitchen without another word.

"If-if this is what you really want, lads, then go for it," Arthur smiled sadly. He did not wish to see the boys go, but he understood their reasoning. The two of them certainly needed something. Perhaps Australia was that something. "Molly, don't you agree?"

George and Harry found themselves victims of a weeping Molly bear hug. "Oh, just be careful, you two!"

"Of course, Mum," the boys chimed in unison.

"So, you're really leaving?" a voice questioned from the doorway. Harry paused his packing to take in the female ginger. Ginny sidled into the room, faking curiosity of what he was putting in his bag.

"Yes, Gin, we're really leaving. Can I do something for you?" Harry wondered with a sigh. She pouted, her chocolate eyes meeting his. "I just-I just kind of figured, with the war being over and all-"

With a deep breath, Harry crossed the room and took her hands in his. A lump tried forming in his throat but he choked it down. The couple stared at their intertwined hands in silence, both thinking of the last time they had held hands. "Gin, you mean so much more to me than you could ever know, but I just don't see this working the way it did."

"You can't mean that, Harry!" Ginny pleaded. Harry's heart was begging him to give in. "I do, Gin. I don't think I can give you what you need right now. I need to sort my life out, and it's not fair to make you wait. Maybe in the future, when everything makes a little more sense. But right now, Gin, I'm lost, and I don't think anyone but me is going to help me get to where I need to be."

Ginny shut her eyes and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. He dropped her hands to run his fingers through her ginger locks one last time. He pulled away enough to place a kiss to her temple before returning is hands to his pockets.

"Good-bye, Harry," she murmured sadly.

"Good-bye, Gin."

Harry followed her retreat from the room wistfully. He hated feeling so conflicted. His heart was screaming to go after her but his head was telling him it was for the better. He was never again going to be the boy she had fallen in love with and it wasn't fair to either of them to pretend otherwise.

"Well, I have to say I expected that to go in a drastically different direction."

Harry jumped near a foot into the air at the sudden voice. George appeared from thin air right behind him. With a glare, Harry shoved the last of his belongings into his bag. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that my sister still fancies the Chosen One," George teased halfheartedly.

Harry let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, George. I don't mean to play around with your sister's emotions-"

George waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm her brother, I should be thrilled that there's no boy in her life. But, mate, I understand. No judgement. Now, are you ready?"

"Australia, here we come," Harry cheered uncertainly as he and George grasped the portkey. "Hope you're ready for two emotional disasters."

They landed unceremoniously on a deserted beach in the middle of the night.

"Emotional disasters, Harry? Really? I'd say we're quite put together," George began, brushing the sand of his magenta suit. He pulled the younger wizard out of the sand and started their trek to the town in the distance. "I mean, sure, I haven't laughed in months and you've not slept one night through without a nightmare in just as long, but disasters we're not." Harry rolled his eyes at the ginger's cheesy wink.

"Do you suppose we'll find a place to stay tonight?" Harry wondered aloud, his voice fading with the receding waves. George couldn't help but be drawn to the black sea. The two had abandoned their venture into town and made for the water instead. Shoes off and trousers rolled to their knees, the boys let the gentle waves lap at their ankles. The ocean and sky blended seamlessly together for miles and miles and something about the vastness of it all comforted him. They hadn't wanted to feel trapped any longer. The prankster had a feeling that this place was just right for that.

"I should think so," he responded.

"Maybe…maybe we could wait until morning," Harry suggested. George nodded. "Maybe we could wait."

And so, free from everything for the very first time, the two unlikely boys made a fire and sat in awe of the endless possibilities that lay before them, the ocean's lullaby soothing their aches and pains.

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Jericho'sRiot