Summary: He had to be strong. So very strong, and for a very long time. And she could have tried to help him more, but…looking back on it now, she thinks he was past the point of help. That now he just needed to rest for a very, very long time. And that, perhaps, was what makes her heart break even more.
Disclaimer: Tucagwathiel owns nada.
Warning(s): Slight past Harry/Ginny, one-sided Ron/Hermione, character deaths, slight AU.
Heart Break
The first year after the war.
That first year after, perhaps they could go on a date. It was stressful. He needed time.
But Ginny knows that she loves him with all her heart because she will wait for him. She fought by his side and, now that the war is finally over, she can help him and wait.
They lost a lot of people. Friends.
But the war was over, and the time for rebuilding the Wizarding World can finally begin.
Yes, Harry needed time, and a lot of it.
Ginny doesn't mind though, because she needed time as well.
She needed to help with the funerals and the cooking.
It was harder now. Especially with the cooking.
What was once an effortless chore, preparing enough dinner for nine, was harder.
Having to constantly put ingredients in containers for use at another time because there was simply too much for a family of four.
But, still, the table would be set for nine. A remembrance of the ones who died.
Ron. Fred. George. Molly…Percy…
That last one was even harder to think about. Knowing that, while the rest of the family had made an outcast of Percy because of his actions, he was spying for Dumbledore's sake.
Damn that man's 'Greater Good.'
What good did it do when it didn't save Percy?
But there was no use crying over that man's actions, because he's dead now.
And she hoped he rot in hell, taking Voldemort with him.
They deserved each other.
Looking down at the potatoes, Ginny sighed. She had enough dinner to make a plate for Harry.
She could take it over to Grimmauld's Place.
It was a depressing place he holed himself up in, but she figured he needed the comfort. Needed the comfort that being surrounded by his father figure's items could only give him, even as it depressed him.
Perhaps, if she truly thought about it, she might have been indignant that he didn't feel that way towards her family.
But that was before, when she was still a foolish, foolish girl.
Perhaps even now, she was foolish.
Even now, she often felt that Harry aged to that of an old man, at a rate that she could hardly keep up with.
Hardships had that nasty habit for the person who's experienced them.
But, knowing how Harry's mind worked better than when she first met him, she knew that his avoidance of the home wasn't an insult.
There were simply too many good memories.
In Grimmauld's Place, he could have lived with Sirius. In the world that was his dreams.
But, while he was- is- upset over his godfather's death, he can hardly miss what he never had.
A home.
And that, perhaps, was why he could stand living in Grimmauld's Place better than in the Burrow.
Because he never truly lived there with his godfather. Never made any memories of Christmas or Yule or birthdays in the house before losing him.
It was a harsh truth, but a truth all the same.
He even avoided the funerals.
Avoided the deaths he, in his mind, had caused.
If he only stopped Voldemort sooner. If he hadn't learned Occlumency.
Ifs, ifs, ifs.
Harry's true downfall wasn't that he hadn't learned Occlumency, but, rather, that he did learn it.
Madam Pomphrey, the school nurse.
As a nurse, one absolutely had to learn the mind arts, as well. After all, what nurse would get a job where she might have a student suffering from mental issues and problems if she couldn't figure out the source?
The first she heard of Harry's troubles with Snape, she clucked her tongue. "Well, I don't know why Dumbledore didn't send him down to the Infirmary, he would have had an easier time learning from an actual medi-witch rather than a potions' master," here she added, softening her tone a little, "not that he doesn't know Occlumency, but…rather…his teaching skills could use some work."
After finding out about Harry's learning woes, she quickly took him under her wing, and taught him all he needed to know about protecting one's mind.
He was thankful for her help at the time, relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with migraines.
But, had he access, he would have known that Ron, in an attempt to get ahead of Voldemort, had never removed the locket from his neck when he left the trio in a fit of anger.
That he had found the sword of Gryffindor in the lake and, after successfully getting it by removing the necklace before diving in, took on the locket by himself.
For all his heroics, he destroyed the horcrux, but died in the end by smoke inhalation, never getting a chance to apologize to Harry and Hermione.
To ask for their forgiveness.
A bittersweet moment for him, on the edge of death, with only Snape's patronus patiently waiting until his passing.
Days after, upon realizing that Snape had at least somehow known of Ron's death if his patronus was there, Harry would continue to rage against the professor with only Hermione for company.
Finally, when he settled to fume, upset and hurt, Hermione gently touched his shoulder. "Harry…I know how you feel. Believe me, I do. It was through my selfish and proud attitude that I never got to tell him that I loved him."
Taking a breath, for she had never admitted her affections for the fiery-headed boy even to Harry, she continued, though it was the hardest thing to do. "But, please don't blame Snape….try to see it from his view. How can you fight against any side effects from the horcrux if you breathe it in? We never even knew about horcrux until Dumbledore…until Dumbledore told you…"
When she saw Harry upset that she was defending Snape, she quickly continued. "What would you do in his position, Harry? Ron was already past the point of medical help, and, even if the doe went to get us, he would've died long before we could get there. I think…I think this was Snape's way of remorse. I don't think he wanted Ron to die alone."
While Harry could see her point, it didn't make it any easier to face the bastard when battling against a group of Death Eaters.
It did earn the bastard a swift, merciful death, though.
Probably, of all the deaths, Ron's hurt the most.
The fact that he wasn't by his side while he died. That the last time they were together, they fought.
Swiftly shaking her head of thoughts of death, Ginny carefully wrapped the plate.
Yes, too many memories, both good and bad, were in this house.
But, if she left- moved away- it would hurt her family even more, and she wasn't selfish enough to do that.
With the bonds of pain and grief, the bonds of family could be drawn closer.
With that last thought, she headed out to Harry's hiding place. Not even bothering to say goodbye.
There were too many goodbye's said and left unsaid, after all.
Apparating outside of the wards was a little hard for her at first. Sometimes, the memories got into her head, making it hard for her to concentrate on the location.
But she managed. She had to.
Thinking of the address and watching the house appear, Ginny gave a wistful smile. Yes, perhaps after the wounds weren't so fresh and festering they could try to go for a date. Just coffee even, nothing more.
But, somehow the thought, the scary thought that Harry wouldn't make it, entered her mind.
When she entered the house unannounced, and saw Harry's lifeless form sprawled on the kitchen floor, she knew.
Somehow, in the back of her mind, she knew that Harry would try and find a way to escape.
And, somehow, while she knew that, she also knew that she could have done something.
Told someone her suspicions.
She inwardly berated herself for the fact that she knew, all-the-while thanking the fact that Harry could escape while she could not.
If anyone deserved to escape in any way, it was him.
But, while her mind knew this.
Knew and, even worse, accepted this fact, her heart still didn't.
Bit by bit, as she stared down at the body, she could feel her heart slowly breaking.
Breaking into dust, just as the body below her would turn to dust in the ground.
All his life he had struggled.
Struggled for family, friends. Just to find a little chance of happiness.
He had to be strong. So very strong, and for a very long time. And she could have tried to help him more, but…looking back on it now, she thinks he was past the point of help.
That now, he just needed to rest for a very, very long time.
And that, perhaps, was what makes her heart break even more.