Disclaimer: I own no rights to Harry Potter, all credit for it goes to JKR.
Chapter One:
By the time the sun had set, Harry had found his way back to his four-poster bed and fell into it. The confrontation with Tom Riddle felt like a lifetime or two ago, not mere hours. Harry had spent those hours shaking hands and pasting a smile on his face. He had searched the crowd for a sea of red and found it, but then the tides pushed him along until he had been congratulated no less than forty-two times. Harry sighed and pushed his glasses up the crook of his nose until he could see clearly again. Then he closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, counted to three, exhaled and hoped for sleep to overtake him.
"When did you get up here?"
The voice startled him, and he quickly sat up to peer in the general direction it could be heard from. Standing tall over the left-hand corner of his bed stood Ron and next to him, trying to hide the fact that their hands were intertwined, Hermione. She flushed slightly but maintained eye contact with Harry and, if he looked closely, appeared to wrap her fingers around Ron's even more tightly.
"A few minutes ago, your mum kept telling me I looked wretched, so I figured I'd come kip up here for a while."
"Well, you do look dreadful, Harry."
"Thanks, Hermione, I hadn't noticed", Harry replied, trying to keep the snark out of his voice. He must not have succeeded since Ron scowled a bit but chose to bite his tongue. Harry thought he should count his blessings on that one. Hermione continued to stare at him as though he hadn't just reprimanded her.
"Do you think you'll tell Kingsley what really happened in the forest?", she asked.
For the second time in nearly as many minutes, Harry sighed and attempted to breathe in and count to ten. When that failed, he simply turned his head and replied, "No. I think that should stay between us. And Dumbledore. Well, his portrait anyway. Does that count?" Ron looked as if he was going to say something but a quick shove in the ribs from Hermione had him silenced. Harry stared, seeing as he'd never seen Ron so silent.
"What gives?"
Ron appeared to pause, or that could have just been him catching his breath from the elbow he had recently received. Ron started, stopped, started again and then flung himself onto the corner of Harry's bed. Harry, not being in the mood for dramatics, which was saying something he figured, asked again, "What gives?"
"I think, well, I think you should talk to my sister", Ron mumbled. Harry should have expected this. He knew that he had time to talk to her, but at the same time, he felt a ripple of fear go through him. They had talked about what it meant to be separate for the year, albeit briefly. Harry hadn't met any Veela and he hoped that she hadn't taken up with any of Dumbledore's Army. By the way she had shut Cho down, he assumed there must be something there. But how does one go about saying 'Sorry that I died, and your brother died, and a lot of our close friends died too, but could we talk about our feelings?'. No, Harry decided. There would be time for that but that time was not now.
"I think that you should let it be for now. Love isn't exactly in the air is it?", but as Harry said that, he noticed a deep flush across Hermione's neck this time and was sure he was not imagining it. Then, just as suddenly, she too flung herself onto Harry's bed and began crying softly into Ron's shoulder as she began to shake. Harry turned and saw his best mate turn pale and look at Harry as though he were Nearly-Headless Nick. Then Harry remembered Fred and a sinking sensation started in his chest and began to spread down to his stomach. He felt his stomach clench and unclench and guilt about the words he had just spoken seemed to make it roll. "Look, Ron, Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm happy for you two and I think.. I think Fred would be, too. I think I actually owe him two galleons now that I think about it."
Ron almost snorted and then seemed to remember that Fred wouldn't be here to collect it and instead put his forehand in his palms and closed his eyes. Harry wondered if he knew about the wager but decided that Ron didn't; he was too thick to notice Hermione for almost five years, how would he know about a betting pool?
A comfortable silence descended on the friends, a silence that would have been uncomfortable for anyone who hadn't battled a troll together, made illicit potions together, slept in cabins scrounging for mushrooms together, and who hadn't watched their friends die together. As the minutes stretched on, Harry wondered if Hermione had fallen asleep until she quietly said, "You're right, you know. You do owe Fred two galleons" and with that, she stood up, walked to the end of the room and said goodnight to the boys.
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Hermione made her way from the boys' dormitory to the common room. She thought about going up to sleep but didn't think she could sleep now. Her mind raced despite her body screaming for rest after almost two days straight of adrenaline. She knew about the wager started before their fifth year, made during the summer at Grimmauld Place. It had been Ginny who said to the twins, when she thought Hermione was off with Harry, but had in fact, stormed away from the boys due to Harry's dreadful moping, who overhead them. Ginny had wagered that Ron would make a move by the end of the year, convinced that Ron had noticed Hermione was now, in fact, female. George had laughed and said that despite two very obvious reasons, in which Hermione seemed to shrink even more away from the doorway, 'Ickle-Ronnikins' would need to get hit in the head with a few more bludgers before he struck up the courage. It became a running joke amongst the Weasley's, although Hermione pretended that she didn't know. Just before Bill's wedding, she could have sworn that she heard Bill cough 'pay up' to one of the twins but thought she might have imagined it. Now it wasn't twins, it was simply twin. How does a word that means two suddenly become one?
She realized that she was sitting in an armchair and hadn't even realized that she wasn't alone. She looked up and saw two brown eyes staring directly into hers with such intenstity that she looked away.
"Ginny, I didn't see you there", she murmured. How rude of her. What does one say exactly to someone she hasn't seen in almost a year? Whose brother just died and whose boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, she had ran off with? Granted, it wasn't really running off, but the facts remained.
Ginny seemed to pause, as if thinking how to ask something but then thought better of it and turned towards the fire and replied, "It's okay. I was just thinking of mum".
"How's she managing?" and Hermione kicked herself for asking such an insensitive question. Instead of replying, Ginny just turned back to Hermione and stared again. Hermione began to steel herself to prepare to be there for her friend, to ignore the fact that her boyfriend, her BOYFRIEND, was upstairs right now barely able to stand upright, and that she couldn't get the image of Molly's Boggart at Grimmauld place, which had turned into a horrid reality, out of her mind. Instead Ginny answered, "Better than I thought. I think she figured with seven of us, she's lucky to make it out with six."
Hermione didn't know what to respond so positioned herself closer to Ginny. "I know that this must be hard for your family." Ginny froze. Hermione feared that she had said something wrong and began thinking about the five stages of grief and which one Ginny might be in at this moment. Instead, Ginny replied "You're family, too." And this time, it was Hermione that time seemed to stand still for. She began to think of her own parents then quickly forced herself into thinking about the required elements of non-verbal transfigurations. After all, thinking about the seventh year curriculum distracted her all those nights in the tent.
Ginny turned away and seemed to understand Hermione's need for silence, even if she couldn't understand about Hermione's own parents. After all, no one but Ron and Harry (they had always been Ron and Harry to her) knew about the Grangers sudden desire to start a practice in Sydney. Tears began to roll down Hermione's cheeks, as she felt all the things she hadn't allowed herself to feel for the past two days catch up to her. A sob escaped and Ginny quickly had her arms around her, and Hermione just cried. She cried about the lack of a plural for the word twin and she cried thinking about how many dentist offices there must be in Sydney. She also cried because she didn't know what the Charms syllabus would have in the winter term and feared she wouldn't ever find out or that it wouldn't matter.
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Harry was glad that Ron had finally gotten into his own bed and that the two had fallen into this time, an uneasy silence, while he waited for sleep to claim him. He wondered where Neville, Dean, and Seamus were and hoped that wherever they were, in this castle or at a clean train station somewhere, that they were happy. Harry wondered if his dreams would really be his own tonight. He then wondered if they had ever really been his own at all. He rolled over and willed himself not to think of Horcruxes for the first night in over a year, and sleep came to him.
Almost just as suddenly, he opened his eyes to a plate of sandwiches sitting next to hit bed on a stool. He grabbed his glasses and looked around the room. It was empty and suddenly Harry felt very alone. He saw a sock on the floor and missed Dobby, brave and kind Dobby who died a free elf. He heard a snore and thought of the Weasley's and wondered what would happen to Fred's hand on the clock. He thought of Remus' words to him about making the world a better place for Teddy and Harry thought, with a pang, that he'd have to be the one to tell Teddy about the good man Remus was while acknowledging the flaws he carried. Just as James was once arrogant, he became selfless and had died for his family, Remus had been afraid of being a father, but laid his life on the line to create a wold in which his son would grow. Thinking that his thoughts were terrible company, Harry got out of bed and decided that it was time to return the Elder Wand to the white tomb.
He quickly dressed himself and sighed as he realized that Molly Weasley was right and that he did look dreadful. He mentally reminded himself to apologize to Hermione for the night before and made his way out of his dorm room. No one was in the common room and judging by the soft light that streamed through, it was still early. Harry quickly tossed the invisibility cloak around him, or as Ron had come to call it, his security blanket. He made his way through the castle and tried to keep his eyes on his feet. One foot in front of the other, so he could ignore the stains around him. There were red stains and green stains (what color was Acromantula blood anyway?), stones and splintered wood. Harry kept walking, refusing to see the damage that befell the first home he ever really knew. He remembered the first time that he stood in the entry hall waiting to be sorted. Ron had mumbled something about a troll and Harry thought he would be chucked out of Hogwarts. Maybe he should have been chucked out then. Maybe then the castle wouldn't be in pieces. He shook his head to clear those thoughts away. Just as he had promised his friends that he had time to talk to Ginny, he knew there would be time to stew in his guilt. Right now, he had to return the wand to its rightful resting place.
As he crossed the lawn, he was relieved to note that there were no bodies sprawled on the grass. Although, once again, there were red stains throughout the pathway and the gravel was upturned. He approached the cracked white marble tomb and paused. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. Maybe he should have waited for Ron and Hermione. At this point, they felt more like limbs than friends, as if they were a part of him even when he couldn't seem to shake them. His heart began to race and he started to count the beats, thankful that there would be many more this time that he counted. He turned to head back to the castle, thinking that he couldn't do this alone, and as he turned around he stumbled because Ginny was standing right there.
Harry froze. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders and the freckles on her face had seemed to multiply in the year apart. Her jawline was more defined and her shoulders slightly straighter. Harry wondered when she learned to stand so rigid, when he realized that he wasn't ready for this conversation and surely wasn't ready to ask. He began to panic and quickly attempted to brush by her to get back inside.
Walking past her, he heard her say "I know you're there, Harry. I have the map." He stopped and stood with his back to her only a few meters away. He turned around and realized she was still staring at the tomb. Not the most romantic of places, he thought wryly. Then remembered that it was here, a year ago, that he had broken up with her and how his heart had felt wrenched from his chest. It felt like borrowed time with her and he realized with a start that it was borrowed time. Every minute of his life had been borrowed and he had meant to pay it back but it was not his to give. He slowly removed the cloak from his head and said her name just once and softly. He wasn't sure that she heard.
Ginny turned to face him and despite the slightly drawn look in her eyes, the way she held her left hand to her side tightly, the corners of her mouth began to turn upwards. Harry had known she was beautiful. He knew it the moment he had seen her snogging Dean, perhaps he had noticed it even before then. But he had never noticed how drawn he was to her. His eyes searched her face, hungrily drinking in the sight of the curve of her neck, the slight wave to her hair, the thirty-nine (and yes he had counted at one point) freckles that looked like stars across her face.
She must have noticed he was staring because her lips turned into a smirk and Harry suddenly noticed the leaves in the tree about thirty feet to her left and looked very interestedly at the branches. He then mentally kicked himself for not showering. In fact, he also started silently berating himself for not cutting his hair, for not changing his clothes, for not eating breakfast since he felt slightly queasy-
"Did you happen to meet any Veela this year?" Her voice rang out and he started, looking back at her face. Could she mean this, he wondered. Could she pretend the last year hadn't happened? No, the girl he knew would know that this year happened, and would respect why it had to have happened. Without obeying him, his feet pulled him forward until he was just a meter from her and he replied, "I saw Fleur at your brother's cottage. Does that count?"
Ginny laughed. Laughter, it sounded almost like she was speaking fluent Italian, it sounded so foreign to him. He barked out a short laugh in reply. Was she laughing at him? Or worse, what if she thought-
"There's the silver lining I was looking for" and once again, Ginny Weasley managed to render all thoughts in his head useless.
