And I don't know where you went when you left me but,
Says here in the water you must be gone by now,
I can tell somehow
Ginny sat against the common room window with her legs tucked up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. A downpour was battering the castle mercilessly and it seemed to mirror the storm raging in her insides.
Of course he couldn't get word to her or any of her family. They were on the run out there. They were probably camping out somewhere in the middle of nowhere where no one would even think to look for them.
But she hadn't said goodbye. And that was the hardest part.
In the back of her mind, a voice she was pretending didn't exist kept telling her that the report was going to come in any day now that they were dead or captured and she was going to have to live with the fact that she'd never said goodbye to them…
The dominant part of her, however, knew whom she was talking about. It was Hermione, the smartest witch Hogwarts had ever seen. It was Ron, her brother, who'd never leave anyone behind. And it was Harry, the boy who had defied death more times than anyone, the boy who'd risked his life for so many, who'd seen so much pain and heartbreak that there was no fairness in it whatsoever.
The Boy Who Lived…and he was hers.
She heard the portrait swing open and she bit down on her lip and wiped the mist from her eyes. Neville had come in after his detention and spotted Ginny on the windowsill.
"Hey, you," he said with a smile as he took to leaning against the wall next to the sill. He was donning a black eye tonight from detention but the other cuts were old. "Packed for the holidays yet?"
"Just the last few knick-knacks" she told him, holding up the gold necklace she had intertwined in her fingers: from it hung their Dumbledore's Army coin, mounted as a necklace.
"Thinking about him again?" Neville asked, sympathetically as he sat down across from her. She nodded and returned her gaze out the window.
"You really think he'll be alright?" Her eyes had all the longing of lost love.
"Hey," Neville replied with such gentleness in his voice that Ginny looked back at him.
"Harry Potter has already stood up to Lord Voldemort six times. I say seven's the charm"
Ginny mirrored Neville's grin and un-tucked her legs to reach across and give him a hug. "Thanks, Neville. You're the best. I better go finish my packing"
She relinquished the windowsill to Neville and headed back up to the girl's dormitories with new spirit. On her way up, she clasped the necklace around her neck and the coin took to resting above her heart.
'All you need is love' is a lie because
We had love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters
Hermione pushed aside the curtains to the tent lazily after swapping places with Harry for the watch. She was exhausted but still on edge from so recently having to wear the locket of Salazar Slytherin. It seemed to wear her down like a twenty pound weight on her chest.
She wanted nothing more at the moment than to go straight to sleep. A full and deep sleep without having to keep an eye on the sky and watching Harry's back. She was the only one for the job now.
It seemed like a natural reaction to the thought that her eyes shot to the empty bunk across from Harry's. He was really gone.
In her heart, the weight of the Horcrux was nothing compared to the weight of losing Ron. If the Horcrux weighed twenty pounds, the absence of Ron paralyzed her completely. It had been the three of them. Since their first year, they had been the trio.
They fought and split up but it never seemed this bad. It had all been at Hogwarts where they were safe, when they were kids. They wouldn't be together but they would always be there. In Hogwarts.
But now, Ron truly wasn't there. There were no castle walls to keep them together and the world was a cold and terrible place to be in these days.
As she pulled on a sweater, the tightness in her chest contracted and it seemed to squeeze the tears from her eyes.
Why had he been so stupid? Why had she been so stupid? Harry was their friend, they should have stood by him no matter what. But Ron had said what she had thought. And he'd taken her thoughts with him.
Now it was just her and Harry with Voldemort hanging around their necks and the world hanging over their heads.
And the only boy she'd ever loved was being hunted out there on his own.
Hermione tucked her knees up to her chest as the tears spilled from her eyes. A voice inside of her told her it was going to be okay. It assured her that he'd find a way back to them, to her, but the logical part of her knew he wouldn't. She was too good of a witch. If she made it so Ron could find them, anyone could.
But Dumbledore had been an even better wizard. And he'd told Harry countless times that love was the greatest magic of all in the world. She knew she loved him. She'd always known.
Not fully aware of what her feet were doing, she picked herself up off of the bed and went to her beaded bag. Calling forth through all the clutter, she found one of the spare shirts she'd packed for Ron.
As the silent tears continued to stream, like they streamed every night, she settled herself in for the night, curled into a little ball. She pressed the shirt to her face and bit back a sob. She couldn't cry.
Harry would hear.
So I'll check the weather wherever you are
'Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight
It might be my only right
It was instinct more than anything that Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map that night on his shift. Hermione had been too exhausted to talk. His only other company was the horcrux around his neck which stung like fire.
She wasn't in the common room, he noted as he skimmed the myriad of moving dots at Hogwarts. She wasn't at the Quidditch pitch either.
Of course she isn't, a voice in his head reminded him. They pulled her out during Christmas.
Harry sighed, and tucked the Map back into his cloak. He'd really needed to see her tonight. Even if it was just her walking around with nothing in particular, comfort came in just knowing she was alright. But now he couldn't.
Tilting his chair onto its back legs, he gazed up through the treetops at the stars. All the studying and calculating and plotting they did at Hogwarts didn't make them any less dazzling when you were on the run in the middle of nowhere. If anything, it made them easier to navigate: from the small patch he could see, they were facing West.
Ginny's room faced West, he mused. I wonder if she's looking at the same stars.
It was the tiniest of hopes: that she would be thinking of him at the same time he was thinking of her, but that was all he needed. Perhaps it was only in his mind but the fire of the horcrux seemed to flicker down a few degrees.
Which was a shame. The fire was usually all that kept him awake.
Cause I can't wait to figure out what's wrong with me
So I can say this is the way that I used to be
There's no substitute for time
"Ronald? Is somezing wrong?"
Fleur's voice flowed from across the table and Ron looked up from his untouched food to meet the veela's ice-blue eyes.
What isn't? he wanted to reply but held back at the last moment. "I'm not really feeling up for food right now," he replied, it was partially honest anyway, and he pushed his plate of food from him and scraped his chair back.
From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Bill send Fleur a look that made her close her mouth to whatever she was going to say. Grateful for his brother's intervention, he made his way swiftly up the stairs to the room he was staying in. Anything to get away from the kitchen and that impossible smell that reminded him too much of a certain visit to the kitchen's of Hogwarts and his guide at the time.
God, everything seemed to remind him of them these days. Of her.
And the last look on her face before he vanished from them.
He'd been too mad to care then, upset at Harry for being wrong and at Hermione for not supporting him when he needed her. But it was always the first image of her his mind seemed to conjure up.
What if she died out there without him? Was that going to be the last image he ever saw of her?
He'd made it to his bed by now and collapsed upon it, back straight and face up, fighting with everything he had against the moisture in his eyes.
Don't cry. For God's bloody sake, Ron, don't cry…
But when he squeezed his eyes closed to stop the tears, there was her face again. Shocked at what he said. Torn between her loyalties. Wanting more than he could give her, still less than what she deserved.
Ron bolted upright and yanked himself from the bed. He wanted to think of anything, of everything if it meant keeping his thoughts in the here and now. He dug his hand into his pocket, fiddling with his present from Dumbledore to keep his hands occupied.
Walking to the window, he gazed at the snow in contemplation. Even if he did want to go back, how on earth was he going to find them? Leaning against the windowsill, all he wanted was a sign, something to tell him that his stupidity was still fixable, that –
"Ron…"
All of Ron's thoughts came to a screeching halt. What was that?
A/N: Ron's part is my favorite out of all of them. It's the part when he discovers what Dumbledore intended by giving him his gift. Ginny's is right before Christmas break when she's pulled out and both Hermione's and Harry's are around the same time when Ron's missing. I don't know if this counts as fluff or not or if it's just a mutated form of angst. I really can't put my finger on it…
All quotes are from "Split Screen Sadness" by John Mayer. They are "quotes" as in this is not the order the quotes appear and the song is longer (and better). The characters belong to J.K. and the events occur at different times during the 7th book.