Rights belong to JK Rowling. I don't know anything even though I wish I did.
Harry woke up with a moan; his stomach was rumbling and twitching, an obvious sign of how hungry he really was. It looked like mid-afternoon; the sun was lightly entering his dorm window and the sky looked clear, cloudless. While most of the bed's curtains were opened, Ron's weren't. Harry was wondering if it was him that was sleeping or if it was someone else, when suddenly the curtains opened and Ginny's head came through them. She sat up and pulled her legs towards her body, her arms holding her legs and her head right in between her knees.
Harry's heart started beating like crazy, as it did when he was in front of her, and he was about to say something when he heard a small sob. It was the sound someone does when trying to hide their cries. It broke Harry's heart and made his body move into action. He climbed onto Ron's bed and wrapped Ginny in a hug so tight he felt his muscles cringing. Though he was sort of malnourished.
Ginny stopped trying and her sobs erupt like a storm towards Harry's ears and shirt, but he didn't care. He wanted to make sure Ginny was okay, he wanted to protect Ginny, to hold her and make up for all those months that they were apart. He wanted to love her without the fear of Voldemort or Death Eaters using his feelings against him. He wanted to love her like the newly freed man he was, like the boy he could have been if Voldemort hadn't existed, if the prophecy hadn't existed.
She raised her head, her eyes puffy and red but damn, still as beautiful as he remembered. Harry suddenly felt bad he didn't go to her as soon as the battle finished, at the time it seemed right, she needed time alone with her family, he with himself, but right now Harry didn't want to waste more time. He knew since he was eleven (or even younger) that life was too short to waste time, but it was the gorgeous girl in front of him who really made him understood how precious time was.
He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt, but he knew it wouldn't be received well; she was mourning her brother… Fred, after all. Fred. That name only brought so many names to his mind, and so many unnamed faces too. All those people. Dead, dying, because of one crazy man's ambition.
Harry didn't notice when he started sobbing alongside Ginny, but she did. So she held onto him tighter than ever, every inch of her body touching his. The kind and gentle hug turn into a grip, into a way to convince each other that they were safe, that the war was over, that they made it.
-I don't know what to say
-It doesn't matter, I told you I'm find
-You can't be Ron! Your brother just… you… gag! – The bushy hair girl folded her arms to her side; she couldn't understand how Ron was so calm, so neutral. She had red eyes and had been sobbing uncontrollably since her head registered the quantity of deaths the battle had. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin and all the rest. But her… friend? Boyfriend?... (She didn't even know) hadn't. He had been silent for a while now, not sobbing, not screaming, not moving like crazy like the rest of them. He was just silent and still, like the statues of the Louvre she saw when she went to Paris with her parents so many years ago.
Hermione though he was losing it, he was just stocking up the pain and was bout to explode anytime from now. She didn't know what to do, the other Weasleys were in the same or worse conditions, but they were all doing something. They were all talking, walking, interacting with the other people at the Great Hall. All but Ron… and Ginny. She had been locked up in her room in the Gryffindor Common Room since Harry began his long sleep; maybe she was waiting for him.
Her eyes started roaming for a little bit, the walls of the Great Hall were all in various stages of damage, but at least the blood was cleaned up. Maybe by teachers, but to be honest it probably were the elfs, though at the time Hermione did not mind. She would pick up that debate in the future.
She sigh, she had so much to do, starting with helping Ron and Harry and followed by going to Australia to rescue her parents, and hopefully, restoring their memories. 'That's going to be a heck of a trip'- she thought. Although she was anxious to see her parents again, at the same time she didn't want to go alone. After so many months of having constant company, it would be weird to go off alone. Weird and lonely.
She glanced at her friend again and her heart started beating faster for a bit. She knew she liked him, maybe even more, so she was desperate to help him. To be there for him. It occurred Hermione that the only thing left to do was just sitting quietly next to him and wait for him to talk by himself. She will just wait a little more, held him maybe and wait.
She did just that.
Memories, darkness and sorrow. Ginny's current feelings were now like this everyday, every miserable day since Harry, Ron and Hermione left. She was cuddled next to Harry in his bed, he was asleep again, one arm around her waist, the other on her shoulders. She was trying not to move, thinking.
The day of the wedding started really well, it was bright and sunny and beautiful. Bill was her favourite brother and regardless of what she felt about Fleur, she loved seeing him so happy. Everyone was dancing, while she tried to flirt indirectly with a disguised redhead Harry.
Then shit literally happened.
Death Eaters, with their masks and their obscure robes, as well as some random Minister workers very much under the Imperious Curse, invaded the party and everyone tried to run away. The golden trio did, which was a miracle, but she and her family couldn't and their enemies questioned them. Ginny didn't know why they left them alive, going quickly after checking for a thousand times for Harry in the Burrow. Obviously they didn't find him.
Then she went to Hogwarts and the nightmare just increased. Almost for a whole year they were tortured, abused, hurt by the Carrows and some Slytherins. Ginny couldn't remember a harder time that those months, maybe only inferior to the nightmare of her first year, when she lost her mind and body to Tom Riddle. But still, she sometimes dreamt at night about the multiple days she was struck by the Cruciatus curse, or the first time Crabbe touched her and the many times he did after that. Ginny's body still had some of the bruises he have her, hidden by multiple layers of clothing she chose to wear almost everyday.
Ginny found herself recoiling from male touch so much this days, even her brothers and father had scared her once or twice. She couldn't help herself. It didn't matter how drunk she made herself be while Crabbe punished her, it didn't matter that she cried to sleep every night, grateful for the miracle of Easter Holidays when her parents had enough and took her away from Hogwarts, to freedom.
Hogwarts. She didn't know how to think about the school, she had so many bad memories wrapped around the few happy times she had here. The first time she had a friend outside of her family and Luna, her first date with Neville otherwise know as the Yule ball, the first time she played Quidditch with the Gryffindor team, the first time she noticed Harry looking at her, a strange shine to his eyes she had never seen, their first kiss and those weeks they spent together. Happy memories that happened at Hogwarts were few, but strong. The thing was, did those happy times could make her forget the sadder moments, the moments she felt like dying, like ending her life once and for all? Even now after everything, the place was tainted with the memory of Fred, of her brother, one part of her set of pranksters.
At the time, she didn't know the answer to that question. She was trying just on Harry, Harry who's arms kept her warm and safe. It was funny how she never recoiled from Harry's touch, she just accepted him and let him hold her, because she knew who he was, she knew he would never hurt her. It was wonderful that she was still able to feel so much around him, so many good feelings. It was wonderful that he could still feel love for her and that she could felt loved by him. But Ginny knew she needed to tell him all that had happened to her, Neville and Luna those months they were alone at Hogwarts without him. She needed to tell him, because she knew that a future with him couldn't start with lies and omissions. Ginny did not know how he was going to react, but she was hopeful that he would be supportive; after all he was Harry Potter. Selfless, sweet Harry Potter, who always wanted to play hero. Although Ginny wanted to be her own hero she had to admit, it sometimes felt good to have a personal hero, especially those days when she felt so tired. And honestly, she was too tired these days.
Ron felt like crying. Ron felt like eating. Ron felt like dying. The funny thing is he couldn't complete any of those desires. It felt weird to be surrounded by his family, all eating at the Gryffindor table, but all sad, all grieving, all eating small pieces at a time. More than that, it was weird that he couldn't eat. He couldn't use his hands, take some chicken and work his mouth. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.
He also felt sick. Like vomiting. The smells of food so appealing, but at the same time so repulsing. It was strange to be without Harry, without Ginny, without Fred, though at least two of those people could be found and brought to dinner. The third was dead.
Ron felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come out of his eyes, down his nose and to his chin like everyone else. Although he felt a hollow black hole in his stomach and although he felt like someone was punching repeatedly his heart, he wouldn't cry. Although he wanted to explode, although his body didn't feel like his body anymore and the phantom of his brother was in every single one of his thoughts, he couldn't cry.
Finally, Ron felt like dying. He knew he had none of the fault for his death, for any of his friends' deaths. He knew it was illogical to think he could have done something, that he should have done something. But he couldn't stop thinking that HE should be dead, he, who spent months in the run, risking his life every day, not Fred. Not his brother who had just started his life, his joke business, his dream. It was Ron who had tented faint too many times to count, not Fred. So why was he alive while he wasn't? Why is life so unfair?
Ron didn't doubt it for one bit; he would have given his life for his. Even though the only thing that could have changed his mind was sitting right next to him, her arm around his waist and and her head on his shoulder.
This is the first chapter of a multiple perspectives fanfic. I haven't set up a schedule for applying the new chapters but I will try to upload consistently. Except for November when I am going to take the IB exams, the rest of the year I'm almost free. Key word: almost. English is my second language so if you find any errors please don't doubt to correct me. Thanks!