I used to love summer.
Now, as it grows ever closer, I honestly hate it.
Not just because we just had a monumental battle, and the beautiful weather ahead seems to laugh at us, mocking the sadness that still lingers after mourning all those we lost. Not just because the general excitement and joy of summer shines a bright light (literally) on all the work we still have to do to repair not only our school, but the shattered lives of the students within it. For me, I hate summer for a lot of personal reasons.
Number one, this summer will be our first one without Fred. George is still in shock. Sometimes, he tells me, he can feel an arm around his shoulder, a laughing whisper, even though nobody is there. George is still a total mess. He cannot bring himself to look in a mirror since the battle. I was with him the first time he tried. He took one glance into the mirror. And he stood there for seconds, staring at himself. He didn't seem to want to pick up the hairbrush, or turn on the faucet to get water. He just stared. Tears began forming and leaking out of his eyes. He was stuttering, "F-f-reddie..." at himself, probably seeing past his missing ear and forming a phantom one in its place. Or removing his solemn expression and seeing a grin where it used to be. Alarmed, I had to go get Mum, and it took me, Mum, Percy, and Ron to drag poor George away from the mirror. He hasn't gone to a restroom with mirrors since.
Number two, this summer will be a summer of mourning. Not just for us, but for pretty much every single family who has a student roaming the halls of Hogwarts. For nobody does not have some friend, or classmate, or acquaintance, or sibling, or family member to mourn. So many died to protect all that we loved from the Dark forces that nearly destroyed our school in the name of a moldy idiot that obviously hated people who were a bit different than them. And that was eventually defeated by a man who was probably the bravest among us that awful night. A man who I am proud to know.
Which brings me to the final reason that I will hate summer. Because I know that when it ends, I will be the final Weasley child of this generation to learn in this school. I know Ron does not intend to return in the fall. I overheard him and Harry talking about it once. Also...Harry. Oh, god, Harry. I'm so used to seeing him in the halls, chatting with Ron, sometimes he walked with me, it was like a dream come true. To see him feigning death...that nearly crushed me. I still have nightmares about him lying motionless there at Voldemort's feet. His eyes closed, his limbs sprawled, his mouth gaping open with no breath passing through. I long to have him close to me. To know that he really is alive. To help ease the grief and sorrow we're all going through as we clean up this mess. When the next school year starts, as inevitable as it is, I know I'll be left behind to complete my final year. And I won't stop thinking of Harry. It's like a flame, small yet impossibly bright, the light of memory. Memories both good and bad, some containing Harry, and some containing those we lost.
I'm going to hate summer because I know that when it expires, I'll really be left behind.