Waiting, Wishing, Watching
"Gin! Come on, we're going to be late!" Ron careened from the kitchen into his sister's room, nearly knocking over a lamp that she had insisted would add character to the room. Ever since they had decided to share a flat in Hogsmeade, she had been bossy about decorating everything. Everything, that is, except Ron's room – he was violently protective of it. He insisted that it not be decorated, and Ginny was happy to comply, because just after they'd moved in he seemed to have made at least six laundry baskets explode in it. Ron was pleased because he now knew there was one room in the house she wouldn't have domain over, and she was happy for the exact same reason. He grinned remembering the look of horror on her face the first time she had bothered to come into his room, and leaned against the doorjamb.
Ginny was frantically pulling her hair into a ponytail and applying a last bit of makeup. She glanced up and Ron and smiled. She had grown up over the course of the last few years, and was a smallish woman with eyes nearly as bright as her hair. They had dimmed, of course, during the war, but now that everything was over, she had regained some of the vivaciousness that Harry had come to adore in her. Her heart had been heavy for many months after his death, but eventually she became resolute about living the life he had been denied. "Wait, Ron, don't apparate before me, you know it makes me nervous!" Ginny had passed her appration test just a week prior – she'd had to take it three times before she passed, and was still skittish about doing it alone. Ron nodded and threw a piece of toast at her. It bounced off of her red hair and onto her bedspread, where it landed butter side down. Exasperated, Ginny picked it up and tossed it in the trash. "You did that on purpose, you great prat!" she yelled indignantly. Ron grinned and replied sarcastically "No, really?" he smirked. "Not that it matters – Fred is going to pound me if we're late again (bloody slave driver), so you wouldn't have time to eat it anyway. Ginny sighed theatrically, pulled her wand out and turned to Ron. "Alright" she said, taking a deep breath. "Concentrate."
Seconds later, Ginny appeared with a small "pop" in the back room of "Weasley Co. Mayhem and Mischief". Ron appeared behind her and together they walked into the large front room of the store.
Though Ron hadn't quite decided what he wanted to do (or rather, as Ginny had come to say, 'what he wanted to be when he grew up') quite yet, he was in no rush to find out. Working with his family was fun for him, and the work was rewarding in his eyes. He suspected that Ginny didn't plan to stay on at the store for much longer, because she had, as of late, mentioned appealing to Dumbledore to help her break into the auror business. The death of so many of her friends and family had affected her so deeply that she felt that it was only right, and would be the only work that would truly satisfy her. For now, however, she found working at the store quite fun, if hectic. Surprisingly, Fred had become quite the, er, bossy type, but he was still her brother, so she had some allowances, and George had stayed quite laid back, so she was feeling find about her position in life for the moment. Fred and George had become partners with the owner and Dervish and Bangs just days after their graduation, and the store's sales had soared with their new products. So well, in fact, that after a year, the elderly but vivacious owner had agreed to rename the store and give them full run of it.
Ron still remembered it well. The ancient looking wizard (he had to be older then Dumbledore!) was barely larger then tiny Professor Flitwick, and he had tottered madly when the twins suggested it. "I've been meaning to take a long vacation, perhaps in Burma! I think you boys would do madly, but you can take care of the store on one condition: You keep my granddaughter Marlan, er" he giggled. "Occupied. She goes to Hogwarts, and you know, they only get one Hogsmeade weekend a month… so her "supplies" need to be replenished, free of charge I'm sure." The twins had readily agreed, and made well on their promise – Marlan Burke was the bane of Filch's life, from what they understood.
WCM&M had become most successful store in Hogsmeade, must to the distaste of Professor McGonagall, who came in at least once a month to tell them about some student that had gotten in trouble due to them. Fred insisted this was her way of showing pride, but Ron wasn't so sure – last time she had come in she was so hassled that she had forgotten herself and attempted to give the twins a detention.
Ron and Ginny had arrived on time – Fred was just put the final touches on a display of Dungbombs, and George was unlocking the door. Ginny waved to George, who nodded, and then gave Fred a hug. He turned a smiled, then gave her head a rub and opened the register. To no one in particular, he said, "We'll need to do inventory today, you know."
Ginny walked behind the counter and pulled her timecard. Ron gave her what he obviously thought was a winning smile and said, "Do mine for me, eh Gin?" She rolled her eyes, smiled, and nodded. Satisfied, Ron walked to the back room again and began to do inventory.
Most of what he did was backroom work. He had asked George and Fred if he could work up front, but that job had gone to Ginny. George had smiled and teased Ron severely for scowling at this. "Ickle Ronnikins, we're sorry, but you're just not cute enough. We need all the cute selling power we can get, and Gin fits the bill." Ron had argued that there was enough business without Ginny's visual aide, but George and Fred hadn't relented.
Ron pulled a face at the memory and began to count through the boxes of fake wands. Really, he thought to himself, it wasn't very bad to work in the back. Sure, he didn't get to watch all of the havoc in the front room, but he could watch it from the doorway. Also, the work went fast, and since there was always plenty to do, he was soon immersed in his work.
It was nice, he said to himself again, to be earning his own keep, nice to be able to live away from home, even if he DID have to live with his sister. Anyway, that wasn't so bad, he admitted. If he'd gone to live with Fred or George, he'd have been turned into a newt by now – not that he wouldn't have gotten better… their stuff wasn't really dangerous most of the time. Heh… that time in sixth year when George conned Harry into eating that piece of chocolate and he turned purple for a week... that was great.
Harry. God he missed him.
Ron's brow creased. Their seventh year… it should have been their best. Instead, Ron's class had graduated missing fourteen students from their midst – five Slytherins, six Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. The ceremony had been solemn; there had been few smiles among the students. The great hall was draped in black curtains, like at the end of fourth year, and Dumbledore had given a speech revealing what had happened in the decimated Gryffindor common room. Himself, Harry Potter and friends, he told them, had defeated the dark lord. Voldemort was unquestioningly dead – there would be no resurrection for him. Sadly, he said, there would also be none for Harry Potter. The boy who lived was dead, and the entire wizarding world mourned his passing. Dumbledore smiled kindly at the students he would miss more then any before.
"This is a day you will remember for the rest of your lives. It will be so for more then one reason. Some will be happy - some so sad you can bear to think of them only for moments. This is normal. I want you to remember the people that made it so. We will remember Harry Potter, of this there is no doubt. However, we must remember everyone else who perished to resist Voldemort. Harry never did particularly love being in the spotlight. More books will be written about his life, and some about his death. We must remember those we've lost throughout the course of this war – Harry's mother and father, Professor Snape, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Cedric and Amos Diggorty, Mundungus Fletcher, and countless others. We must also not forget those who left our midst voluntarily to fight for the dark lord. They too believed in something – right or wrong, that was their decision. This too should be remembered."
Ron wasn't sure, but he could have sworn Dumbledore's eyes had flashed to the Slytherin table, from which many graduates were missing. Some had been pulled out earlier in the year – some had been killed fighting for their master, or in some cases, the masters of their parents. Crabbe and Goyle were both missing, gone halfway through the year. Draco Malfoy sat alone, staring defiantly at the head table. His father had died at the hands of his own dark lord, and Draco had resolved to never join him. Ron could hardly believe this, but he knew it was true – Draco was a part, but he'd finally done something right.
Dumbledore had glanced at Ron, then up and down all of the tables.
"Never, ever fear a name. Today, you are adults. Tomorrow, you go into the world. I know that you will still have your doubts, but remember what needs to be remembered. Do not forget those who died for you. I humbly request that you live for them."
"This, I believe, is where several teenage boys who will be missed would suggest the words 'tuck, in.' Congratulations, and as I've requested before, please live your life for those who died."
Ron had applauded, tears streaming down his face. Ginny had turned her head into his shoulder, and there was a heavy head against his back, crying. Harry hadn't deserved to die, but he had faced it the way Ron knew he would, with a straight back and defiance in his eyes. Ron was immensely proud of him, and knew that he could never, ever forget how wonderful a friend Harry was. In those final days, those final minutes, Harry had proven himself beyond a doubt to the wizarding world. Ron had witnessed it, and knew in his heart that things, though they had gone sadly, had gone right.
Harry had yelled that he'd never give in, and Ron had hurled a hex at Voldemort. As the dark lord deflected his spell, Harry took the opening and cast Avada Kedavra him. Turning in time to catch it, Voldemort had cast the same, and their wands locked for the second time. Ron, not sure what was going on, had done the first thing to come to mind – he pointed his wand at Voldemort and yelled "Avada Kedavra." The unforgivable curse echoed in a familiar female voice next to him, but Ron didn't break his eye contact from Voldemort, who was now struggling to deflect all three curses. Suddenly, Ron had heard the voice of an old man, aged even further by the war. Dumbledore had also cast Avada Kedavra on Voldemort, and there was a sudden explosion of light and sound.
Ron had thought he was dead. He couldn't see, couldn't hear. He lay still for a few minutes. Sounds gradually came to his ears, mostly the crying of a woman. He had pulled himself off of the ground and crawled to where Harry lay. He wasn't moving, and his wand was lying just beyond his outstretched hand, fingers splayed. Ron knew he was dead.
Harry had never explained everything about their fourth year – Ron understood that there were some things he couldn't talk about. Now, however, Ron was witnessing it firsthand. Though its owner was dead, Voldemort's wand was going through Priori Incantium next to the pile of ashes that Ron could only assume was what was left of Voldemort. Out of it flew a steady glow of ghost-like forms. The stood as they leaked out of the wand tip, and gathered slowly around Harry, smiling. Ron's heart froze as a familiar face emerged, then another. The echo's of his two eldest brothers's smiled sadly at him, and Bill softly said "We love you, little brother. Take care of the rest of the family." The echo of Charlie grinned and added, "Don't be a prat, Ronnikins. Be good to her, eh? We'll take care of Harry."
Ron started from his memory. As images of the past had began to overtake him, he had sat down on a stool near the back of the storage room. He looked up, and realized that someone was watching him. There was a slim figure watching him from the doorway into the store. It was a woman- he could see her long hair and smallish figure, but she was in the shadows, just inside the door.
"Ginny? Hello? Miss, I'm afraid customers aren't allowed back here…"
The girl stepped into the light, smiling. She didn't say anything, but held out her left hand and beckoned him.
Confused, Ron backed away. She looked so very familiar – he felt he knew her. Her long brown hair was frizzy and her eyes were chocolate brown and kind looking. Though she had a beautiful face, he somehow imagined that she could harden it into a retort or order in no time flat, but this didn't dismay him – in fact, he was slightly comforted by it.. She beckoned to him again, and he decided that he was being silly. She was probably just looking for something… or someone. Ron hoped just a bit that it wasn't someone – he found her very attractive, though most people would have called her relatively plain..
Ron walked towards her, but stopped a few feet in front from her. The hand that beckoned him, her left, was bare, but her right hand was adorned with a single silver ring, adorned with a line of garnets. He had seen it somewhere before… Oh, of course. His grandmum had given him one that looked very much like it before she died. She had asked him to use it as an engagement ring when he… but never mind. It couldn't be the same ring – that ring was probably at The Burrow, with his mother for safekeeping. There must be more then one like it. Still, it was unsettling to him somehow that this girl should be wearing that ring.
The girl had tiled her head questioningly at Ron when he had stopped. As he looked at her face again, she smiled and gestured. He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind. What was wrong with him?
"Excuse me, miss, who are-"
"RON!" Ginny was yelling to him from the front room. "We just got rushed, and some kid just knocked over a bin of blasting bon bons! Get out here!"
Ron had moved past the girl to look out into the front room. He stared in astonisment – the bon bon's had fallen into the dung bomb bin, and several of them were going off at the same time. George was cackling evilly from one end of the room, and tossed a handful of fake wands at a group of shocked fourth years. Ginny was nowhere to be seen, and Fred was in the middle of the mayhem, trying to settle things down. Ron smirked, thinking of what a large change that was – Fred, trying to settle things down.
Ron sighed and pulled out his wand, preparing to go into the room, and turned to apologize to the girl.
The room was empty.
Ron's smile dropped. Where had she gone? There weren't many places to hide in this room, and why would she anyway? He hadn't heard her apparate, and there was no fireplace in the back.
"RON! GET IN HERE!" Ginny's voice was frantic, and she was now perched on top of the counter.
Shaking his head, Ron ran into the store and began to cast cleaning spells.
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Ron sighed and put his hands behind his head. It had been a very, very, very long day. Ginny had apparated home at about six, aided by the reassurance from her brothers that she wouldn't be splinched. Well, two of her brothers, anyway – Fred had been fired up ever since the riot that morning, and had merely grinned evilly and told her that if she got splinched they'd dock her pay. Ron had stuck around at work – he needed to clean the windows and tables, and the air still smelt slightly of dungbombs, so he was going to try a spell to air out the room. Fred and George left shortly after Ginny, bantering about their dates for the night. Ron arched his eyebrow's as George admonished Fred for setting him up with a "hag". Ron wasn't sure if that was literal or not, and didn't intend to find out – he made a mental note to himself never to let Fred set him up on a date.
Now it was nearly nine, and Ron had fallen asleep on the small cot in the back room. Ginny had insisted it be put there – she said that working in her brother's store was more then trying, and she was positive that someone would pass out or have a heart attack some day – and chances are it would be her. Ron had only meant to sit down for a short minute, but before he knew it, he was on his side, dreaming of the garden at Hogwarts.
The rose bushes were in full bloom and giving off a pleasant scent. Ron looked down at himself, and was surprised to see that he was wearing muggle jeans. He smirked in his sleep. Ever since he was a sixth year, he had dreamt lucidly. It was helpful to know when you were awake and when you were asleep, if you feared for your life.
The dream Ron walked through the garden, smiling and wondering what was coming next. Professor Snape flitted by Neville's grandmother's dress, and Ron felt a pang of guilt. They had been wrong about Snape, and he was a hero. There was no need to have mean dreams about him. However, Snape shortly disappeared and was replaced by Professor McGonagalll in a horrid brown negligee. This image disappeared particularly quickly, and the sun began to dance in the sky. Ron watched it swirl and twist, shoving aside clouds that got in its way.
Ron heard a soft laugh – not a scorning laugh, but an adoring one. The girl he had seen in the store was at the other end of the garden, smiling. She waved, and stepped into the labyrinth of roses and out of Ron's view. Curious, he quickly walked to the end of the row. He saw a glimpse of her hair to his right, and turned to follow. He heard her laugh again, and broke into a run. She was evading him very well – he had been running through the roses for a good five minutes now. He wasn't sure why he was chasing her; he only knew that it was of the utmost importance that he catch her.
"Hey! Hey, stop! I want to see you, eh?" Ron yelled into the garden. His plea was met by more laughing.
"I suggest you catch me and then question me, Ronald Weasley! You'll get nowhere with mucking about, you should have learnt that from school!"
Ron stopped and listened for the direction of the voice, but couldn't trace it. It seemed to be coming from the roses themselves, from the pavement and the sky. Breathing hard, he listened quietly.
"Come with me, Ron." A soft whisper by his ear. He turned his head, expecting to see the girl. She wasn't there. From his other side, he heard a rustle. "Come with me. I miss you so much… and you've stayed far too long."
He turned again, but she was nowhere to be found.
"I miss you so, Ron. Please remember", whispered the roses.
Ron became frantic. He had to find her - she was trying to tell him something. He had no idea why he needed to know what it was, but he knew he did. He began tearing through the walls of roses, scratching himself with their large thorns. He stormed through the flowers, in search of the girl, and fell into a clearing. The garden was beginning to disperse around him, petals flying. In the center of the clearing there was a bench, and on the bench were two girls. One was his sister, Ginny, and the other was the dark haired girl he was looking for. He smiled triumphantly and watched them.
"I know, Ginny. I'm sorry. I miss you too, and so do your brothers and Harry… but you can't come where we are. He's stayed too long."
A metal fell between the girls and Ron, heavy and unmovable. Ron pounded his fists on the door. He had to know what they were talking about. He ran toward one end of the metal wall and screamed his sister's name. There seemed to be no end to the wall, and though he sprinted, he made no headway. Tears had begun to stream down his face, but he wasn't questioning why. Finally, he realized the wall was endless, and he stopped. He turned to go back the way he had come, because perhaps there was something at that end. He turned on his heel.
Ginny stood before him, tears welling in her eyes.
She brushed back strands of sweat-slicked hair from his face and attempted to smile through her tears, but a sob escaped her.
"She's right. You've been far too long."
The world exploded in a fury of pink and red petals.
Ron awoke with a scream. He was covered in sweat from his exertions in the dream, and his heart sounded in his ears like a bass drum.
Wait a minute – that was a bass drum. Ron frowned and looked around him. The walls were a deep green color that reminded him or ancient trees, and there were couches strewn about the room, although no one occupied them. He turned, confused. This was definitely the same room – there was the door leading to storefront. He walked through it and nearly fell down. Was he still dreaming? No… he was pretty sure he wasn't. There were people in older styled dress robes dancing in the center of the room, and the counter was different – it was a bar. An aged wizard behind it was pouring out flasks of butterbeer, and he turned to Ron and winked.
"O'nt one?"
Ron furrowed his brow and shrugged. Why not? At least he'd have something to drink while he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He took it from the bartender and stood to the side of the room, watching people dance.
It looked to him like he had stepped into the past – maybe before even his parents had been born. He knew, through Fred and George, that the store had once been a small parlour for dancing, and this looked like it. Ron tried not to question the implications of being lost in time – he'd hurt his brain. So, for the moment, he contented himself with his butterbeer and watched the people dance to what he recognized was wizarding music from the late fifties or early sixties. He checked his watch – maybe that would give at least a gauge of how late he had been asleep. It read six till midnight – not that Ron was going to count that for much. The stories about ghosts coming out at midnight was a muggle thing, wasn't it? A real wizard could see ghosts all the time.
Ron felt a tap at his shoulder, turned, and dropped his butterbeer. The barkeep smiled a toothless smile, and yelled "S'aight. I'll clean it."
It was her. The girl he had chased, the girl from the store. She was there, and she wasn't running. The ring shimmered on his hand, and he smiled at her, bemused.
"Who are you? You're starting to kinda scare me – but not in a bad way, if that's possible."
For the first time, the girl spoke. "You're absolutely adorable when you're confused. I suppose that's good, since that's how you look most of the time."
Ron was taken aback. He hadn't even talked to this strange dream girl but once, and she was already making gibes at him. He goggled at her, and she laughed.
"Come on… we never danced enough…" a pained look crossed her face. "then. But we will." She took his hand and placed it on her side. Slowly, they moved to the dance floor, Ron still not understanding.
He looked to the girl for help. "Who are you? And why am I following you, or why are you following me, or, or…"
The girl smiled smugly and gently placed a finger to his lips. "See, always confused. It doesn't matter… just dance, alright?"
Ron complied, too astounded to argue.
He was amazed how well his hands felt on her body, how right. He had only just met her (hadn't he?) hours ago, in the store, and now he thought perhaps he was in love with her. He laughed inwardly – that was silly, you don't fall in love in hours. He didn't believe in love at first sight. But… he thought to himself, I did recognize her, didn't I? That's not at first sight.
The ornate rosewood clock above him began to chime midnight. The girl grimaced and turned to Ron.
"You'll remember. You're just stubborn, just like you've always been. Come back to me, Ron."
The clock chimed ten. "Come back to you? When did I lea-" Twelve.
Ron was standing in the middle of Weasley Co. Mayhem and Mischief. Not a dance hall, not a rose garden. His workplace. He suddenly felt foolish, his hands in the air where they had been around the girl's waist and holding her hand. He quickly dropped them and ran into the back room to gather his things. As he passed the counter, the glass display case reflected the face of the girl, watching him. He passed by without noticing it, and disapparated with a small "pop" minutes later in his flat.
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"Ron? Ron!" Ginny could have sworn that she had heard the telltale sound of a wizard apparating, but Ron hadn't walked into their small living room. Upon returning from work, she had made herself a bowl of soup and settled down in the living room. After finishing her meager fare, she tried to listen to the WWN, but found her mind drifting. Her thoughts wandered, lost, sad, and mostly incoherent.
She felt awful. She was being so selfish – but she knew that if she told Ron, he would remember, and he might leave her forever. She had been so happy when he walked in that day, the day she had lost one of the most important things in her life. She wasn't sure if she could take that – after Bill and Charlie had died, she had become so much slower to Ron. Dumbledore had once told her that family bonds were strong to start with – war and loss only reinforced them. He was right, she knew this now, but she still wasn't sure she could give up one of those bonds so easily.
When Ginny heard the "pop" of Ron apparating, she confirmed the resolution in her mind. She would tell him. She walked into the short hallway, determined to let him know what had happened, make him realize why he never mentioned people who were once so important in his live, make him realize why, to him, they no longer existed. He looked up at the door and smiled sadly. Ron was slumped in the chair next to the door, fast asleep. Ginny's heart melted. She'd tell him – but tomorrow.
"Mobilcorpus" she whispered, and moved Ron to his room. She removed his shoes and pulled the comforter up around him, knowing with a pang of pain that this was just a familiarity, that he didn't really need it. She shut the door softly and stood outside, one hand clamped over her freely flowing eyes. Ron turned over in his sleep and sighed.
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The next morning, Ron was awoken by the smell of bacon. His dreams had been abstract, with no trace of the brown haired girl or his sister. It had to be past ten – light was streaming through his curtains. He groaned at the light then pulled himself out of bed. He was surprised to find that he was wearing his clothing – he couldn't remember coming in last night. That's funny, he thought to himself. I've been forgetting so many things lately… I'm not normally like that. Like that time last week… shit, I cant even seem to remember last more then a week ago. Shaking his head, he wandered into the living room, then through to the kitchen.
He heard two voices, one his sister, and one obviously his father. They seemed to be arguing. Ron shrugged to himself and swung open the door to the small kitchen.
His father was standing by the breakfast table staring down at Ginny, who was seated. The remains of breakfast sat on the table, pieces of toast, bacon, and eggs.
Ron noted with worry that his father had aged even more since the last time he had seen him. When had that been, anyway? Two months? Three? He couldn't remember… he couldn't remember a lot of stuff. When had his father gotten so… old?
The two figures in the kitchen took no notice of him, though they were faced towards him. Arthur had a pained look on his face.
"Ginny, please. Your mother is worried about you; she wants you to come home. Living here – really, how can you do it? We're worried about you."
Ron began to break in. "Wait a minute, dad! She's-"
Ginny spoke again. "Dad, I'm fine. Tell mum I miss her, and I'll come visit sometime soon, ok? But I'm staying here, really. I'm a big girl. I promise I'll be ok. I am ok. Ok?" She smiled reassuringly at her harrowed looking father.
Arthur sighed. He looked too tired to fight her anymore. "Fine, Ginny. It's your way, then. I'll tell your mother, but you know she'll send me back sometime soon to try and argue with you. You know, someday she'll make the trip herself… she just hasn't had the energy, not since –"
"Yes, dad, I know. Please go back to her, I'm fine. I'll check in later."
Arthur sighed again and hugged his daughter tightly. "We love you, Ginny," he said and apparated without even glancing at Ron.
Ron stared at his sister in disbelief. Really! His father was worried about her. They weren't kids anymore, and it wasn't like she didn't live with him – and he'd be able to protect her. After all, he'd proved himself with Harry many times, hadn't he? Why didn't they trust him?
Ron began to vocalize these thoughts. Ginny smiled wanly at him and held her hand up to him. "It's ok, Ron, I know, I know" she said. "They're just… worried. They have every right, Ron. It's not that they didn't trust you for some reason."
Ginny paled, then shook herself. "I've got to run to work for a bit, alright? I need to straighten something out. Also, I'm going to go for a walk in the park… I need to do a lot of thinking. Meet me at two at home, ok? We'll have lunch and talk." Although Ginny had been living out of The Burrow for over a year, she still referred to it, and not their flat, as home.
Ron nodded. Ginny got this way sometimes – she had to go off by herself. He didn't understand it, but he respected it, and that's all she wanted. He heard her go into her room and prepare herself for her time outdoors, and he began to tidy the kitchen. Shortly after Ron had cleared the dishes, Ginny appeared in light blue outdoor robes, a muggle book in her hand. He grinned at her and told her to have a good time.
After she had left, Ron returned to his room, showered, and changed into his favorite Cannon's robes. He felt these when he was feeling particularly good, or felt like he needed a boost – which he did, right now. Previously unsurfaced problems had risen to his mind this morning. He hadn't questioned any of them before yesterday, before the dream at work. Why couldn't he remember past last week that wasn't from school? Why hadn't he talked to anyone but Ginny since then? Why was he having dreams, and what he could only assume were hallucinations, about that wonderful dark haired girl? She captivated him, and he recognized her, but he didn't know why.He kicked the wall in frustration, and was relatively surprised when he didn't break a hole in it.
"Forget it!" he muttered to himself, and stalked to the door. He was going to go for a walk, do some thinking of his own, and wander through Hogsmeade. The shop was closed on Sundays, mostly due to the request of his mother, who had been livid when the twins said they wanted it open. "Sunday is a day of rest!" she had yelled, "Not that you two ever give me any!" Ron smirked at the memory as wandered from store to store in Hogsmeade. It had been so long since he had just walked around and looked… probably since early in seventh year, two years ago. Ron laughed out loud as he remembered his last trip to Hogsmeade as a Hogwarts student. Harry had been talking about broomsticks, and suddenly, out of nowhere…
Something had happened. Ron stopped, and a girl walking close behind him bumped into him. She continued on without turning around or regarding Ron. "Yeah, it's ok!" he yelled sarcastically after her, and went back to his thoughts.
"Something happened," he muttered to himself. "Something…" his face grew red with frustration as it had earlier. "Somebody did something unexpected. God, who was it? Why can't I remember!?"
Ron stopped. Why was he mad? Just because he forgot something that happened two years ago? That didn't seem very reasonable. It was just a lost memory, so why in the world was he so riled up about it?
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He'd think about it later. Now - he checked his watch, which read "You're LATE!" - he had to go meet Ginny. He took one last wistful look down the street and apparted home.
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When he arrived, Ginny was waiting for him on the porch swing, curled up with a book. She was reading out loud, softly, from the book she had taken with her from the apartment.
"To die… to sleep… to sleep, perchance to dream… ay, there's the rub, for in that sleep of death…" Ginny's voice faltered slightly. "In that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil…" Ron walked through the yard, slightly surprised that the crunching noise the leaves made under his boots didn't alert Ginny to his presence. Must have been a good book. He stepped up to the porch slowly and plopped down on the swing. Ginny jumped, the smiled guiltily at him.
"Sorry, didn't see you or hear you."
He laughed. "Not a problem. Good book?"
She shrugged. "Yes… no… I don't know. It's a very old muggle book, people say he was a wonderful writer. It's ok so far. A bit gruesome – too many references to death and decay."
Ron smiled, but his bones had grown cold. Trying to shake off the feeling, he put his head on Ginny's shoulder and sighed.
"Did you get your thinking done, little sister?"
She rapped him on the head. "Not so little anymore. Yes… I did my thinking." She pushed his head off of her shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
"Ron, come with me. You're going to be mad, maybe, after I show you, but it's past time. I've been selfish."
Ron nodded. Whatever it was, he'd have to let her get it out. He grew more concerned, however, when she insisted on holding his hand. She led him through to the back yard, and headed towards a far corner just inside the yard, edged by forest. Ron's blood grew cold.
"Gin, hey, let's go inside. Let's go see mum, huh? Let's go eat. Ginny, come on." Ginny walked resolutely forward. "Come on Gin." Urgency had entered his voice, and when he spoke again, it was bordering on panic. He didn't understand why he didn't want to go to that corner, but he knew something terrible would happen there. That was where Bill and Charlie had been buried, after all – that place could bring him only pain. While it was true that most of their family members had been laid to rest there, Bill and Charlie had.. they had been his brothers, for God's sake.
Ginny turned to Ron, and he saw she was crying. "We have to, Ron. You have to know. He cast her a pleading look, and she grabbed hold of his other hand tightly.
"You have to know." It was Ginny speaking, but Ron shivered as it echoed behind him. He turned around in a flash, and saw that the girl from his dreams was standing besides the numerous headstones. Since when had there been so many? Too many had died in the war, but Jesus – had it really been that many?
Ron didn't know. Ginny had seen the girl, gasped, then, to Ron's amazement, rushed forward, still holding one of his hands. They reached the graves and the girl, and Ginny smiled despite herself.
With a sob, she threw herself into the strange girls' arms.
Ron stared at the two of them and then directed his attention to graves that he noticed had most defiantly not been there while he had lived at The Burrow. They were situated next to Bill and Charlie's memorials – their bodies had never been found. He frowned. The names were so familiar… devoted father, supportive mother. Whose mother? Whose father? And why were they in his families plot, for God's sake?
Ron turned to Ginny. She and the girl were watching him. Their forms were blocking from sight the next two gravestones, what appeared to be the most recent additions to the plot. Ginny heaved a sob, and the girl placed too her hand reassuringly. Together, they moved aside to let Ron read the stones.
He had been wrong, it wasn't two separate stones – it was one large stone, with two names engraved into them.
"Death is the next great adventure," it read. "Together we go in love and faith towards it. They go to join their friends in the next realm, and doubtless await us bravely."
Ron stared at the names, finally comprehending.
Ginny whispered softly behind him. "I'm sorry Ron." Ron clinched his eyes shut and let the memories flow over him.
The girl next to him at the final confrontation.
The ring from his grandmum.
Their sixth year, he had kissed her, out of the blue.
His parents had been overjoyed.
Hers were dead by the time they were engaged. She had them buried with what she considered her family.
At the start of seventh year, in Hogsmeade, she had conjured a bucket of ice water on top of he and Harry as they drooled over brooms.
She was the bravest women he knew.
She was the most wonderful woman he'd ever known.
And she was dead.
And so, he realized with a lifting feeling, was he.
He turned to Ginny, and she stammered through her tears. "God, Ron, I'm sorry... I should have SAID something! But.. but you just came home... we had gotten the news that you and Hermione were in the park, and, and had been a-ambushed by Death Eaters. They k-killed you because you destroyed him... Voldemort. We got the news, and I was cr-r-rying and y-y-ou... after the funeral you j-j-j-..." she paused, trying to calm herself. Hermione set her hand on Ginny's head and smoothed it, calming her. "I was alone in the flat, and you just walked through the front door and... and..." she laughed despite herself. "You asked me what was for dinner. Like nothing had happened. And I realized that you didn't remember.. you didn't know... and that I could... you could be with me again. I missed you so much, Ron. I was wrong, but I missed you so much, so I didn't say anything... And I was the only one that could see you... I wasn't sure you were actually a ghost. I didn't know how much you remembered, if anything... after a few days I realized you didn't remember Hermione at all, and I didn't understand why... but now I think maybe..."
"My memories of her died with my body." Everything was so clear now... the gaping holes in his memories, his frustration and the strange dreams. How could he forget her?
He smiled sadly at his sister. "Maybe..." he started, "It wasn't your own selfishness. Maybe I didn't want to leave, wasn't willing... so I forgot the only thing that would make me go on to the next great adventure." He looked at Hermione, smiling. "But now I remember." Ginny sobbed again, and hugged Hermione, and then Ron. He held her tightly, knowing that this was their last chance.
Hermione stroked Ginny's hair as she cried, and the girl slowly calmed. She backed away from her brother and set Hermione's hand in Ron's. "I'm sorry for keeping him so long," she apologized. "Please tell everyone I miss them. I'll remember, I will. Wait for me till the adventure starts."
Hermione smiled and laughed, then spoke again. "Oh, we will. No fun to go on without you... something this stubborn prat's let us all know." She smiled affectionately at Ron. "Now..." she said, remorse in her voice. "We have to leave. I can't explain why... that's part of it. 'For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil…' Hamlet was a fool, Ginny. We'll wait for you."
Ron laughed and tossed his sisters hair. "Of course we will. I love you, Ginny."
"I love you too, Ron."
Ginny closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them, her brother and Hermione were gone. She wiped her tears away slowly, and picked up the yellow rose that had appeared on top of the headstone. She held it lightly, as if to question it's reality. Then she nodded and walked back to the house, flower in hand.
Authors notes: Thanks to Christen for pre-reading this for me. If this story sees vaugely familar, there is a good reason - this story is based almost entirely on an episode of the Nickelodeon TV show "Are You Afraid of the Dark? entitled "The Tale of the Dream Girl". Why? Because that show, and that story, were cool, and I liked the concept. Please review, I'd really appreciate it a ton!
Thanks to Omega for reminding me that Ron and Hermione were born in the same year :)
"Gin! Come on, we're going to be late!" Ron careened from the kitchen into his sister's room, nearly knocking over a lamp that she had insisted would add character to the room. Ever since they had decided to share a flat in Hogsmeade, she had been bossy about decorating everything. Everything, that is, except Ron's room – he was violently protective of it. He insisted that it not be decorated, and Ginny was happy to comply, because just after they'd moved in he seemed to have made at least six laundry baskets explode in it. Ron was pleased because he now knew there was one room in the house she wouldn't have domain over, and she was happy for the exact same reason. He grinned remembering the look of horror on her face the first time she had bothered to come into his room, and leaned against the doorjamb.
Ginny was frantically pulling her hair into a ponytail and applying a last bit of makeup. She glanced up and Ron and smiled. She had grown up over the course of the last few years, and was a smallish woman with eyes nearly as bright as her hair. They had dimmed, of course, during the war, but now that everything was over, she had regained some of the vivaciousness that Harry had come to adore in her. Her heart had been heavy for many months after his death, but eventually she became resolute about living the life he had been denied. "Wait, Ron, don't apparate before me, you know it makes me nervous!" Ginny had passed her appration test just a week prior – she'd had to take it three times before she passed, and was still skittish about doing it alone. Ron nodded and threw a piece of toast at her. It bounced off of her red hair and onto her bedspread, where it landed butter side down. Exasperated, Ginny picked it up and tossed it in the trash. "You did that on purpose, you great prat!" she yelled indignantly. Ron grinned and replied sarcastically "No, really?" he smirked. "Not that it matters – Fred is going to pound me if we're late again (bloody slave driver), so you wouldn't have time to eat it anyway. Ginny sighed theatrically, pulled her wand out and turned to Ron. "Alright" she said, taking a deep breath. "Concentrate."
Seconds later, Ginny appeared with a small "pop" in the back room of "Weasley Co. Mayhem and Mischief". Ron appeared behind her and together they walked into the large front room of the store.
Though Ron hadn't quite decided what he wanted to do (or rather, as Ginny had come to say, 'what he wanted to be when he grew up') quite yet, he was in no rush to find out. Working with his family was fun for him, and the work was rewarding in his eyes. He suspected that Ginny didn't plan to stay on at the store for much longer, because she had, as of late, mentioned appealing to Dumbledore to help her break into the auror business. The death of so many of her friends and family had affected her so deeply that she felt that it was only right, and would be the only work that would truly satisfy her. For now, however, she found working at the store quite fun, if hectic. Surprisingly, Fred had become quite the, er, bossy type, but he was still her brother, so she had some allowances, and George had stayed quite laid back, so she was feeling find about her position in life for the moment. Fred and George had become partners with the owner and Dervish and Bangs just days after their graduation, and the store's sales had soared with their new products. So well, in fact, that after a year, the elderly but vivacious owner had agreed to rename the store and give them full run of it.
Ron still remembered it well. The ancient looking wizard (he had to be older then Dumbledore!) was barely larger then tiny Professor Flitwick, and he had tottered madly when the twins suggested it. "I've been meaning to take a long vacation, perhaps in Burma! I think you boys would do madly, but you can take care of the store on one condition: You keep my granddaughter Marlan, er" he giggled. "Occupied. She goes to Hogwarts, and you know, they only get one Hogsmeade weekend a month… so her "supplies" need to be replenished, free of charge I'm sure." The twins had readily agreed, and made well on their promise – Marlan Burke was the bane of Filch's life, from what they understood.
WCM&M had become most successful store in Hogsmeade, must to the distaste of Professor McGonagall, who came in at least once a month to tell them about some student that had gotten in trouble due to them. Fred insisted this was her way of showing pride, but Ron wasn't so sure – last time she had come in she was so hassled that she had forgotten herself and attempted to give the twins a detention.
Ron and Ginny had arrived on time – Fred was just put the final touches on a display of Dungbombs, and George was unlocking the door. Ginny waved to George, who nodded, and then gave Fred a hug. He turned a smiled, then gave her head a rub and opened the register. To no one in particular, he said, "We'll need to do inventory today, you know."
Ginny walked behind the counter and pulled her timecard. Ron gave her what he obviously thought was a winning smile and said, "Do mine for me, eh Gin?" She rolled her eyes, smiled, and nodded. Satisfied, Ron walked to the back room again and began to do inventory.
Most of what he did was backroom work. He had asked George and Fred if he could work up front, but that job had gone to Ginny. George had smiled and teased Ron severely for scowling at this. "Ickle Ronnikins, we're sorry, but you're just not cute enough. We need all the cute selling power we can get, and Gin fits the bill." Ron had argued that there was enough business without Ginny's visual aide, but George and Fred hadn't relented.
Ron pulled a face at the memory and began to count through the boxes of fake wands. Really, he thought to himself, it wasn't very bad to work in the back. Sure, he didn't get to watch all of the havoc in the front room, but he could watch it from the doorway. Also, the work went fast, and since there was always plenty to do, he was soon immersed in his work.
It was nice, he said to himself again, to be earning his own keep, nice to be able to live away from home, even if he DID have to live with his sister. Anyway, that wasn't so bad, he admitted. If he'd gone to live with Fred or George, he'd have been turned into a newt by now – not that he wouldn't have gotten better… their stuff wasn't really dangerous most of the time. Heh… that time in sixth year when George conned Harry into eating that piece of chocolate and he turned purple for a week... that was great.
Harry. God he missed him.
Ron's brow creased. Their seventh year… it should have been their best. Instead, Ron's class had graduated missing fourteen students from their midst – five Slytherins, six Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. The ceremony had been solemn; there had been few smiles among the students. The great hall was draped in black curtains, like at the end of fourth year, and Dumbledore had given a speech revealing what had happened in the decimated Gryffindor common room. Himself, Harry Potter and friends, he told them, had defeated the dark lord. Voldemort was unquestioningly dead – there would be no resurrection for him. Sadly, he said, there would also be none for Harry Potter. The boy who lived was dead, and the entire wizarding world mourned his passing. Dumbledore smiled kindly at the students he would miss more then any before.
"This is a day you will remember for the rest of your lives. It will be so for more then one reason. Some will be happy - some so sad you can bear to think of them only for moments. This is normal. I want you to remember the people that made it so. We will remember Harry Potter, of this there is no doubt. However, we must remember everyone else who perished to resist Voldemort. Harry never did particularly love being in the spotlight. More books will be written about his life, and some about his death. We must remember those we've lost throughout the course of this war – Harry's mother and father, Professor Snape, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Cedric and Amos Diggorty, Mundungus Fletcher, and countless others. We must also not forget those who left our midst voluntarily to fight for the dark lord. They too believed in something – right or wrong, that was their decision. This too should be remembered."
Ron wasn't sure, but he could have sworn Dumbledore's eyes had flashed to the Slytherin table, from which many graduates were missing. Some had been pulled out earlier in the year – some had been killed fighting for their master, or in some cases, the masters of their parents. Crabbe and Goyle were both missing, gone halfway through the year. Draco Malfoy sat alone, staring defiantly at the head table. His father had died at the hands of his own dark lord, and Draco had resolved to never join him. Ron could hardly believe this, but he knew it was true – Draco was a part, but he'd finally done something right.
Dumbledore had glanced at Ron, then up and down all of the tables.
"Never, ever fear a name. Today, you are adults. Tomorrow, you go into the world. I know that you will still have your doubts, but remember what needs to be remembered. Do not forget those who died for you. I humbly request that you live for them."
"This, I believe, is where several teenage boys who will be missed would suggest the words 'tuck, in.' Congratulations, and as I've requested before, please live your life for those who died."
Ron had applauded, tears streaming down his face. Ginny had turned her head into his shoulder, and there was a heavy head against his back, crying. Harry hadn't deserved to die, but he had faced it the way Ron knew he would, with a straight back and defiance in his eyes. Ron was immensely proud of him, and knew that he could never, ever forget how wonderful a friend Harry was. In those final days, those final minutes, Harry had proven himself beyond a doubt to the wizarding world. Ron had witnessed it, and knew in his heart that things, though they had gone sadly, had gone right.
Harry had yelled that he'd never give in, and Ron had hurled a hex at Voldemort. As the dark lord deflected his spell, Harry took the opening and cast Avada Kedavra him. Turning in time to catch it, Voldemort had cast the same, and their wands locked for the second time. Ron, not sure what was going on, had done the first thing to come to mind – he pointed his wand at Voldemort and yelled "Avada Kedavra." The unforgivable curse echoed in a familiar female voice next to him, but Ron didn't break his eye contact from Voldemort, who was now struggling to deflect all three curses. Suddenly, Ron had heard the voice of an old man, aged even further by the war. Dumbledore had also cast Avada Kedavra on Voldemort, and there was a sudden explosion of light and sound.
Ron had thought he was dead. He couldn't see, couldn't hear. He lay still for a few minutes. Sounds gradually came to his ears, mostly the crying of a woman. He had pulled himself off of the ground and crawled to where Harry lay. He wasn't moving, and his wand was lying just beyond his outstretched hand, fingers splayed. Ron knew he was dead.
Harry had never explained everything about their fourth year – Ron understood that there were some things he couldn't talk about. Now, however, Ron was witnessing it firsthand. Though its owner was dead, Voldemort's wand was going through Priori Incantium next to the pile of ashes that Ron could only assume was what was left of Voldemort. Out of it flew a steady glow of ghost-like forms. The stood as they leaked out of the wand tip, and gathered slowly around Harry, smiling. Ron's heart froze as a familiar face emerged, then another. The echo's of his two eldest brothers's smiled sadly at him, and Bill softly said "We love you, little brother. Take care of the rest of the family." The echo of Charlie grinned and added, "Don't be a prat, Ronnikins. Be good to her, eh? We'll take care of Harry."
Ron started from his memory. As images of the past had began to overtake him, he had sat down on a stool near the back of the storage room. He looked up, and realized that someone was watching him. There was a slim figure watching him from the doorway into the store. It was a woman- he could see her long hair and smallish figure, but she was in the shadows, just inside the door.
"Ginny? Hello? Miss, I'm afraid customers aren't allowed back here…"
The girl stepped into the light, smiling. She didn't say anything, but held out her left hand and beckoned him.
Confused, Ron backed away. She looked so very familiar – he felt he knew her. Her long brown hair was frizzy and her eyes were chocolate brown and kind looking. Though she had a beautiful face, he somehow imagined that she could harden it into a retort or order in no time flat, but this didn't dismay him – in fact, he was slightly comforted by it.. She beckoned to him again, and he decided that he was being silly. She was probably just looking for something… or someone. Ron hoped just a bit that it wasn't someone – he found her very attractive, though most people would have called her relatively plain..
Ron walked towards her, but stopped a few feet in front from her. The hand that beckoned him, her left, was bare, but her right hand was adorned with a single silver ring, adorned with a line of garnets. He had seen it somewhere before… Oh, of course. His grandmum had given him one that looked very much like it before she died. She had asked him to use it as an engagement ring when he… but never mind. It couldn't be the same ring – that ring was probably at The Burrow, with his mother for safekeeping. There must be more then one like it. Still, it was unsettling to him somehow that this girl should be wearing that ring.
The girl had tiled her head questioningly at Ron when he had stopped. As he looked at her face again, she smiled and gestured. He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind. What was wrong with him?
"Excuse me, miss, who are-"
"RON!" Ginny was yelling to him from the front room. "We just got rushed, and some kid just knocked over a bin of blasting bon bons! Get out here!"
Ron had moved past the girl to look out into the front room. He stared in astonisment – the bon bon's had fallen into the dung bomb bin, and several of them were going off at the same time. George was cackling evilly from one end of the room, and tossed a handful of fake wands at a group of shocked fourth years. Ginny was nowhere to be seen, and Fred was in the middle of the mayhem, trying to settle things down. Ron smirked, thinking of what a large change that was – Fred, trying to settle things down.
Ron sighed and pulled out his wand, preparing to go into the room, and turned to apologize to the girl.
The room was empty.
Ron's smile dropped. Where had she gone? There weren't many places to hide in this room, and why would she anyway? He hadn't heard her apparate, and there was no fireplace in the back.
"RON! GET IN HERE!" Ginny's voice was frantic, and she was now perched on top of the counter.
Shaking his head, Ron ran into the store and began to cast cleaning spells.
Ron sighed and put his hands behind his head. It had been a very, very, very long day. Ginny had apparated home at about six, aided by the reassurance from her brothers that she wouldn't be splinched. Well, two of her brothers, anyway – Fred had been fired up ever since the riot that morning, and had merely grinned evilly and told her that if she got splinched they'd dock her pay. Ron had stuck around at work – he needed to clean the windows and tables, and the air still smelt slightly of dungbombs, so he was going to try a spell to air out the room. Fred and George left shortly after Ginny, bantering about their dates for the night. Ron arched his eyebrow's as George admonished Fred for setting him up with a "hag". Ron wasn't sure if that was literal or not, and didn't intend to find out – he made a mental note to himself never to let Fred set him up on a date.
Now it was nearly nine, and Ron had fallen asleep on the small cot in the back room. Ginny had insisted it be put there – she said that working in her brother's store was more then trying, and she was positive that someone would pass out or have a heart attack some day – and chances are it would be her. Ron had only meant to sit down for a short minute, but before he knew it, he was on his side, dreaming of the garden at Hogwarts.
The rose bushes were in full bloom and giving off a pleasant scent. Ron looked down at himself, and was surprised to see that he was wearing muggle jeans. He smirked in his sleep. Ever since he was a sixth year, he had dreamt lucidly. It was helpful to know when you were awake and when you were asleep, if you feared for your life.
The dream Ron walked through the garden, smiling and wondering what was coming next. Professor Snape flitted by Neville's grandmother's dress, and Ron felt a pang of guilt. They had been wrong about Snape, and he was a hero. There was no need to have mean dreams about him. However, Snape shortly disappeared and was replaced by Professor McGonagalll in a horrid brown negligee. This image disappeared particularly quickly, and the sun began to dance in the sky. Ron watched it swirl and twist, shoving aside clouds that got in its way.
Ron heard a soft laugh – not a scorning laugh, but an adoring one. The girl he had seen in the store was at the other end of the garden, smiling. She waved, and stepped into the labyrinth of roses and out of Ron's view. Curious, he quickly walked to the end of the row. He saw a glimpse of her hair to his right, and turned to follow. He heard her laugh again, and broke into a run. She was evading him very well – he had been running through the roses for a good five minutes now. He wasn't sure why he was chasing her; he only knew that it was of the utmost importance that he catch her.
"Hey! Hey, stop! I want to see you, eh?" Ron yelled into the garden. His plea was met by more laughing.
"I suggest you catch me and then question me, Ronald Weasley! You'll get nowhere with mucking about, you should have learnt that from school!"
Ron stopped and listened for the direction of the voice, but couldn't trace it. It seemed to be coming from the roses themselves, from the pavement and the sky. Breathing hard, he listened quietly.
"Come with me, Ron." A soft whisper by his ear. He turned his head, expecting to see the girl. She wasn't there. From his other side, he heard a rustle. "Come with me. I miss you so much… and you've stayed far too long."
He turned again, but she was nowhere to be found.
"I miss you so, Ron. Please remember", whispered the roses.
Ron became frantic. He had to find her - she was trying to tell him something. He had no idea why he needed to know what it was, but he knew he did. He began tearing through the walls of roses, scratching himself with their large thorns. He stormed through the flowers, in search of the girl, and fell into a clearing. The garden was beginning to disperse around him, petals flying. In the center of the clearing there was a bench, and on the bench were two girls. One was his sister, Ginny, and the other was the dark haired girl he was looking for. He smiled triumphantly and watched them.
"I know, Ginny. I'm sorry. I miss you too, and so do your brothers and Harry… but you can't come where we are. He's stayed too long."
A metal fell between the girls and Ron, heavy and unmovable. Ron pounded his fists on the door. He had to know what they were talking about. He ran toward one end of the metal wall and screamed his sister's name. There seemed to be no end to the wall, and though he sprinted, he made no headway. Tears had begun to stream down his face, but he wasn't questioning why. Finally, he realized the wall was endless, and he stopped. He turned to go back the way he had come, because perhaps there was something at that end. He turned on his heel.
Ginny stood before him, tears welling in her eyes.
She brushed back strands of sweat-slicked hair from his face and attempted to smile through her tears, but a sob escaped her.
"She's right. You've been far too long."
The world exploded in a fury of pink and red petals.
Ron awoke with a scream. He was covered in sweat from his exertions in the dream, and his heart sounded in his ears like a bass drum.
Wait a minute – that was a bass drum. Ron frowned and looked around him. The walls were a deep green color that reminded him or ancient trees, and there were couches strewn about the room, although no one occupied them. He turned, confused. This was definitely the same room – there was the door leading to storefront. He walked through it and nearly fell down. Was he still dreaming? No… he was pretty sure he wasn't. There were people in older styled dress robes dancing in the center of the room, and the counter was different – it was a bar. An aged wizard behind it was pouring out flasks of butterbeer, and he turned to Ron and winked.
"O'nt one?"
Ron furrowed his brow and shrugged. Why not? At least he'd have something to drink while he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He took it from the bartender and stood to the side of the room, watching people dance.
It looked to him like he had stepped into the past – maybe before even his parents had been born. He knew, through Fred and George, that the store had once been a small parlour for dancing, and this looked like it. Ron tried not to question the implications of being lost in time – he'd hurt his brain. So, for the moment, he contented himself with his butterbeer and watched the people dance to what he recognized was wizarding music from the late fifties or early sixties. He checked his watch – maybe that would give at least a gauge of how late he had been asleep. It read six till midnight – not that Ron was going to count that for much. The stories about ghosts coming out at midnight was a muggle thing, wasn't it? A real wizard could see ghosts all the time.
Ron felt a tap at his shoulder, turned, and dropped his butterbeer. The barkeep smiled a toothless smile, and yelled "S'aight. I'll clean it."
It was her. The girl he had chased, the girl from the store. She was there, and she wasn't running. The ring shimmered on his hand, and he smiled at her, bemused.
"Who are you? You're starting to kinda scare me – but not in a bad way, if that's possible."
For the first time, the girl spoke. "You're absolutely adorable when you're confused. I suppose that's good, since that's how you look most of the time."
Ron was taken aback. He hadn't even talked to this strange dream girl but once, and she was already making gibes at him. He goggled at her, and she laughed.
"Come on… we never danced enough…" a pained look crossed her face. "then. But we will." She took his hand and placed it on her side. Slowly, they moved to the dance floor, Ron still not understanding.
He looked to the girl for help. "Who are you? And why am I following you, or why are you following me, or, or…"
The girl smiled smugly and gently placed a finger to his lips. "See, always confused. It doesn't matter… just dance, alright?"
Ron complied, too astounded to argue.
He was amazed how well his hands felt on her body, how right. He had only just met her (hadn't he?) hours ago, in the store, and now he thought perhaps he was in love with her. He laughed inwardly – that was silly, you don't fall in love in hours. He didn't believe in love at first sight. But… he thought to himself, I did recognize her, didn't I? That's not at first sight.
The ornate rosewood clock above him began to chime midnight. The girl grimaced and turned to Ron.
"You'll remember. You're just stubborn, just like you've always been. Come back to me, Ron."
The clock chimed ten. "Come back to you? When did I lea-" Twelve.
Ron was standing in the middle of Weasley Co. Mayhem and Mischief. Not a dance hall, not a rose garden. His workplace. He suddenly felt foolish, his hands in the air where they had been around the girl's waist and holding her hand. He quickly dropped them and ran into the back room to gather his things. As he passed the counter, the glass display case reflected the face of the girl, watching him. He passed by without noticing it, and disapparated with a small "pop" minutes later in his flat.
"Ron? Ron!" Ginny could have sworn that she had heard the telltale sound of a wizard apparating, but Ron hadn't walked into their small living room. Upon returning from work, she had made herself a bowl of soup and settled down in the living room. After finishing her meager fare, she tried to listen to the WWN, but found her mind drifting. Her thoughts wandered, lost, sad, and mostly incoherent.
She felt awful. She was being so selfish – but she knew that if she told Ron, he would remember, and he might leave her forever. She had been so happy when he walked in that day, the day she had lost one of the most important things in her life. She wasn't sure if she could take that – after Bill and Charlie had died, she had become so much slower to Ron. Dumbledore had once told her that family bonds were strong to start with – war and loss only reinforced them. He was right, she knew this now, but she still wasn't sure she could give up one of those bonds so easily.
When Ginny heard the "pop" of Ron apparating, she confirmed the resolution in her mind. She would tell him. She walked into the short hallway, determined to let him know what had happened, make him realize why he never mentioned people who were once so important in his live, make him realize why, to him, they no longer existed. He looked up at the door and smiled sadly. Ron was slumped in the chair next to the door, fast asleep. Ginny's heart melted. She'd tell him – but tomorrow.
"Mobilcorpus" she whispered, and moved Ron to his room. She removed his shoes and pulled the comforter up around him, knowing with a pang of pain that this was just a familiarity, that he didn't really need it. She shut the door softly and stood outside, one hand clamped over her freely flowing eyes. Ron turned over in his sleep and sighed.
The next morning, Ron was awoken by the smell of bacon. His dreams had been abstract, with no trace of the brown haired girl or his sister. It had to be past ten – light was streaming through his curtains. He groaned at the light then pulled himself out of bed. He was surprised to find that he was wearing his clothing – he couldn't remember coming in last night. That's funny, he thought to himself. I've been forgetting so many things lately… I'm not normally like that. Like that time last week… shit, I cant even seem to remember last more then a week ago. Shaking his head, he wandered into the living room, then through to the kitchen.
He heard two voices, one his sister, and one obviously his father. They seemed to be arguing. Ron shrugged to himself and swung open the door to the small kitchen.
His father was standing by the breakfast table staring down at Ginny, who was seated. The remains of breakfast sat on the table, pieces of toast, bacon, and eggs.
Ron noted with worry that his father had aged even more since the last time he had seen him. When had that been, anyway? Two months? Three? He couldn't remember… he couldn't remember a lot of stuff. When had his father gotten so… old?
The two figures in the kitchen took no notice of him, though they were faced towards him. Arthur had a pained look on his face.
"Ginny, please. Your mother is worried about you; she wants you to come home. Living here – really, how can you do it? We're worried about you."
Ron began to break in. "Wait a minute, dad! She's-"
Ginny spoke again. "Dad, I'm fine. Tell mum I miss her, and I'll come visit sometime soon, ok? But I'm staying here, really. I'm a big girl. I promise I'll be ok. I am ok. Ok?" She smiled reassuringly at her harrowed looking father.
Arthur sighed. He looked too tired to fight her anymore. "Fine, Ginny. It's your way, then. I'll tell your mother, but you know she'll send me back sometime soon to try and argue with you. You know, someday she'll make the trip herself… she just hasn't had the energy, not since –"
"Yes, dad, I know. Please go back to her, I'm fine. I'll check in later."
Arthur sighed again and hugged his daughter tightly. "We love you, Ginny," he said and apparated without even glancing at Ron.
Ron stared at his sister in disbelief. Really! His father was worried about her. They weren't kids anymore, and it wasn't like she didn't live with him – and he'd be able to protect her. After all, he'd proved himself with Harry many times, hadn't he? Why didn't they trust him?
Ron began to vocalize these thoughts. Ginny smiled wanly at him and held her hand up to him. "It's ok, Ron, I know, I know" she said. "They're just… worried. They have every right, Ron. It's not that they didn't trust you for some reason."
Ginny paled, then shook herself. "I've got to run to work for a bit, alright? I need to straighten something out. Also, I'm going to go for a walk in the park… I need to do a lot of thinking. Meet me at two at home, ok? We'll have lunch and talk." Although Ginny had been living out of The Burrow for over a year, she still referred to it, and not their flat, as home.
Ron nodded. Ginny got this way sometimes – she had to go off by herself. He didn't understand it, but he respected it, and that's all she wanted. He heard her go into her room and prepare herself for her time outdoors, and he began to tidy the kitchen. Shortly after Ron had cleared the dishes, Ginny appeared in light blue outdoor robes, a muggle book in her hand. He grinned at her and told her to have a good time.
After she had left, Ron returned to his room, showered, and changed into his favorite Cannon's robes. He felt these when he was feeling particularly good, or felt like he needed a boost – which he did, right now. Previously unsurfaced problems had risen to his mind this morning. He hadn't questioned any of them before yesterday, before the dream at work. Why couldn't he remember past last week that wasn't from school? Why hadn't he talked to anyone but Ginny since then? Why was he having dreams, and what he could only assume were hallucinations, about that wonderful dark haired girl? She captivated him, and he recognized her, but he didn't know why.He kicked the wall in frustration, and was relatively surprised when he didn't break a hole in it.
"Forget it!" he muttered to himself, and stalked to the door. He was going to go for a walk, do some thinking of his own, and wander through Hogsmeade. The shop was closed on Sundays, mostly due to the request of his mother, who had been livid when the twins said they wanted it open. "Sunday is a day of rest!" she had yelled, "Not that you two ever give me any!" Ron smirked at the memory as wandered from store to store in Hogsmeade. It had been so long since he had just walked around and looked… probably since early in seventh year, two years ago. Ron laughed out loud as he remembered his last trip to Hogsmeade as a Hogwarts student. Harry had been talking about broomsticks, and suddenly, out of nowhere…
Something had happened. Ron stopped, and a girl walking close behind him bumped into him. She continued on without turning around or regarding Ron. "Yeah, it's ok!" he yelled sarcastically after her, and went back to his thoughts.
"Something happened," he muttered to himself. "Something…" his face grew red with frustration as it had earlier. "Somebody did something unexpected. God, who was it? Why can't I remember!?"
Ron stopped. Why was he mad? Just because he forgot something that happened two years ago? That didn't seem very reasonable. It was just a lost memory, so why in the world was he so riled up about it?
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He'd think about it later. Now - he checked his watch, which read "You're LATE!" - he had to go meet Ginny. He took one last wistful look down the street and apparted home.
When he arrived, Ginny was waiting for him on the porch swing, curled up with a book. She was reading out loud, softly, from the book she had taken with her from the apartment.
"To die… to sleep… to sleep, perchance to dream… ay, there's the rub, for in that sleep of death…" Ginny's voice faltered slightly. "In that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil…" Ron walked through the yard, slightly surprised that the crunching noise the leaves made under his boots didn't alert Ginny to his presence. Must have been a good book. He stepped up to the porch slowly and plopped down on the swing. Ginny jumped, the smiled guiltily at him.
"Sorry, didn't see you or hear you."
He laughed. "Not a problem. Good book?"
She shrugged. "Yes… no… I don't know. It's a very old muggle book, people say he was a wonderful writer. It's ok so far. A bit gruesome – too many references to death and decay."
Ron smiled, but his bones had grown cold. Trying to shake off the feeling, he put his head on Ginny's shoulder and sighed.
"Did you get your thinking done, little sister?"
She rapped him on the head. "Not so little anymore. Yes… I did my thinking." She pushed his head off of her shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
"Ron, come with me. You're going to be mad, maybe, after I show you, but it's past time. I've been selfish."
Ron nodded. Whatever it was, he'd have to let her get it out. He grew more concerned, however, when she insisted on holding his hand. She led him through to the back yard, and headed towards a far corner just inside the yard, edged by forest. Ron's blood grew cold.
"Gin, hey, let's go inside. Let's go see mum, huh? Let's go eat. Ginny, come on." Ginny walked resolutely forward. "Come on Gin." Urgency had entered his voice, and when he spoke again, it was bordering on panic. He didn't understand why he didn't want to go to that corner, but he knew something terrible would happen there. That was where Bill and Charlie had been buried, after all – that place could bring him only pain. While it was true that most of their family members had been laid to rest there, Bill and Charlie had.. they had been his brothers, for God's sake.
Ginny turned to Ron, and he saw she was crying. "We have to, Ron. You have to know. He cast her a pleading look, and she grabbed hold of his other hand tightly.
"You have to know." It was Ginny speaking, but Ron shivered as it echoed behind him. He turned around in a flash, and saw that the girl from his dreams was standing besides the numerous headstones. Since when had there been so many? Too many had died in the war, but Jesus – had it really been that many?
Ron didn't know. Ginny had seen the girl, gasped, then, to Ron's amazement, rushed forward, still holding one of his hands. They reached the graves and the girl, and Ginny smiled despite herself.
With a sob, she threw herself into the strange girls' arms.
Ron stared at the two of them and then directed his attention to graves that he noticed had most defiantly not been there while he had lived at The Burrow. They were situated next to Bill and Charlie's memorials – their bodies had never been found. He frowned. The names were so familiar… devoted father, supportive mother. Whose mother? Whose father? And why were they in his families plot, for God's sake?
Ron turned to Ginny. She and the girl were watching him. Their forms were blocking from sight the next two gravestones, what appeared to be the most recent additions to the plot. Ginny heaved a sob, and the girl placed too her hand reassuringly. Together, they moved aside to let Ron read the stones.
He had been wrong, it wasn't two separate stones – it was one large stone, with two names engraved into them.
"Death is the next great adventure," it read. "Together we go in love and faith towards it. They go to join their friends in the next realm, and doubtless await us bravely."
Ron stared at the names, finally comprehending.
|
March 1, 1980 – June 31, 1999 |
September 19, 1980 – June 31, 1999 |
Ginny whispered softly behind him. "I'm sorry Ron." Ron clinched his eyes shut and let the memories flow over him.
The girl next to him at the final confrontation.
The ring from his grandmum.
Their sixth year, he had kissed her, out of the blue.
His parents had been overjoyed.
Hers were dead by the time they were engaged. She had them buried with what she considered her family.
At the start of seventh year, in Hogsmeade, she had conjured a bucket of ice water on top of he and Harry as they drooled over brooms.
She was the bravest women he knew.
She was the most wonderful woman he'd ever known.
And she was dead.
And so, he realized with a lifting feeling, was he.
He turned to Ginny, and she stammered through her tears. "God, Ron, I'm sorry... I should have SAID something! But.. but you just came home... we had gotten the news that you and Hermione were in the park, and, and had been a-ambushed by Death Eaters. They k-killed you because you destroyed him... Voldemort. We got the news, and I was cr-r-rying and y-y-ou... after the funeral you j-j-j-..." she paused, trying to calm herself. Hermione set her hand on Ginny's head and smoothed it, calming her. "I was alone in the flat, and you just walked through the front door and... and..." she laughed despite herself. "You asked me what was for dinner. Like nothing had happened. And I realized that you didn't remember.. you didn't know... and that I could... you could be with me again. I missed you so much, Ron. I was wrong, but I missed you so much, so I didn't say anything... And I was the only one that could see you... I wasn't sure you were actually a ghost. I didn't know how much you remembered, if anything... after a few days I realized you didn't remember Hermione at all, and I didn't understand why... but now I think maybe..."
"My memories of her died with my body." Everything was so clear now... the gaping holes in his memories, his frustration and the strange dreams. How could he forget her?
He smiled sadly at his sister. "Maybe..." he started, "It wasn't your own selfishness. Maybe I didn't want to leave, wasn't willing... so I forgot the only thing that would make me go on to the next great adventure." He looked at Hermione, smiling. "But now I remember." Ginny sobbed again, and hugged Hermione, and then Ron. He held her tightly, knowing that this was their last chance.
Hermione stroked Ginny's hair as she cried, and the girl slowly calmed. She backed away from her brother and set Hermione's hand in Ron's. "I'm sorry for keeping him so long," she apologized. "Please tell everyone I miss them. I'll remember, I will. Wait for me till the adventure starts."
Hermione smiled and laughed, then spoke again. "Oh, we will. No fun to go on without you... something this stubborn prat's let us all know." She smiled affectionately at Ron. "Now..." she said, remorse in her voice. "We have to leave. I can't explain why... that's part of it. 'For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil…' Hamlet was a fool, Ginny. We'll wait for you."
Ron laughed and tossed his sisters hair. "Of course we will. I love you, Ginny."
"I love you too, Ron."
Ginny closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them, her brother and Hermione were gone. She wiped her tears away slowly, and picked up the yellow rose that had appeared on top of the headstone. She held it lightly, as if to question it's reality. Then she nodded and walked back to the house, flower in hand.
Authors notes: Thanks to Christen for pre-reading this for me. If this story sees vaugely familar, there is a good reason - this story is based almost entirely on an episode of the Nickelodeon TV show "Are You Afraid of the Dark? entitled "The Tale of the Dream Girl". Why? Because that show, and that story, were cool, and I liked the concept. Please review, I'd really appreciate it a ton!
Thanks to Omega for reminding me that Ron and Hermione were born in the same year :)