Chapter Two: Don't Know Why I Asked

I didn't want to talk to anyone. Luckily neither did George or my mum; everything was quiet and no one minded much. We ate, slept and breathed complete silence for almost a week, until one afternoon I walked into my room to see George laying on the dark blue bedspread, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"George?"

He wiped his face clean and sat up hesitantly. "Sorry Sara, I..."

"Don't worry about it, you can stay. Just... are you alright?"

"Are you?"

I nodded and sat next to him on my bed. "Good point." I didn't know what to say. The person I'd always gone to for a laugh was crying. "Did you want to talk about...?"

"Not now, thanks." Just as I was about to leave, he pulled on my shirt. "Oh-ay, Sara, your owl dropped you two letters earlier." He pointed at the desk in the corner of my room and lay back down.

Letters? Curiosity raised my spirits as I snatched up the letters and headed to the attic. I practically ran passed Lizzy's room on the way; I hadn't been able to bring myself to look beyond her door since I got home. On the other hand, the door to the attic looked so inviting. I strode up the stairs and examined the space – it was mainly boxes of junk we, for some reason, still hadn't unpacked since we'd moved in. Growing fond of a particularly less crumpled box, I chose that one to sit on and take a flip through the letters I wasn't really expecting.

Dear Sara,

How are you doing? Everyone here is thinking about you. You must be missing Fred and your sister terribly. If you ever need someone to talk to, know I'll be here.

There was a smiley face after the last sentence, then,

Your friend,

Hermione Granger

I loved Hermione; I really did. But she had a way of taking things and making them feel forced – professional, not sincere. At that moment, I was feeling so small, I needed someone to open up to me and tell me their deepest, most sensitive feelings – something raw and real to match the vulnerability I was experiencing. That was the perfect time to open Neville's letter.

Sara,

I haven't been able to stop thinking of you since you left. How long are you and Fr-

He'd scribbled out the first two letters and continued on.

-George going to be at your house? We'd all like you to come back to the Burrow. I miss you – I mean, I'm a right mess now. Anyone will tell you. I'm worried. I wish there was something I could do. Please come back soon. But if your mum needs you home, don't leave just for me. I'd hate to be the reason you leave your family at a time like this.

Love,

Neville

A tear slid down my nose and hung on the tip for a moment before dropping onto the letter. He was so sweet. I always tried to show appreciation toward my friends and how amazingly they treated me, but Fred just always seemed to be top priority – I guess he was.

My mom was fine with George and I leaving so soon; she was going to spend some time with her side of the family with Dad and tell them about what had happened. I told her not to leave out the part where she bravely saved Ron's life. Mum smiled and responded with a soft, "How could I?"

The weather was so beautiful that when George and I had Apparated back to the Burrow, we ran immediately to the yard around the side of the house; naturally, we assumed everyone would be enjoying the sun. Sure enough, they were all lined up – Luna, then Ginny and Ron, then Harry, then Neville and Katie.

"Welcome back, you two!" Harry called at us as Katie left the curiously unnatural line to wrap her arms around both George and I.

"We were just about to play a game of Quidditch – want to join?" I assumed they were playing to get their mind off of what had happened only a week ago. I didn't blame them for trying to cheer everyone up.

"I'm in!" George high-fived his girlfriend, but I was really not in the mood.

"Sara, what about you?" she asked.

I shook my head meekly. "No thanks; I'll watch."

"I thought you were a huge Quidditch player? You told me first year you came to Hogwarts that you couldn't wait to try out for the team... well, this is your chance!"

Forcing a chuckle, I shook my head. "Sorry." I'm sure she understood why.

Seven people playing Quidditch made the teams uneven, but Hermione had refused to play as well. She was inside, studying at the kitchen table; since she, Ron and Harry had been out of school for a year, Hermione planned on going back to graduate. I commended the girl for that – she must have been going through withdrawals.

As I sat on the warm grass, picking up leaves and reluctantly tearing them apart, I noticed Neville looking down at me, not even paying attention to the game anymore. He was hovering a few feet above me. "Oi Neville!" Ron shouted. He was obviously not amused to be on Neville's team. "Are you going to play or what?"

"Sorry, I'm going to sit out..."

"Ha! Now it's three on three!" Ginny cackled, grabbing the quaffle out from an unsuspecting George's arms. He laughed and flew off after her.

Neville allowed his broom to float softly downward and he landed in front of me. "You okay, Sara?" I didn't want to lie and say yes, so I just sat there and let him figure it out. "Yeah, stupid question," he admitted. He set his broom on the grass and sat cross-legged next to me. "Don't know why I asked you that."

Eventually, I looked up at him and twitched the side of my mouth closest him. It was supposed to be a smile. "Thanks anyway, though."

"Hey," he scanned the field and noticed no one was watching us. "Want to go for a walk around the lake or something?" I only nodded.

The lake was big enough; I could have told him my whole life story up until Hogwarts before we'd made it around once. My bare ankles were tickled as the grass scratched against them. "Did you want to talk yet?"

I didn't look up, but I did want to talk. "Fred and Lizzy, Neville," I said as if he hadn't already thought it about a million times. "Fred and Lizzy – my sister and best friend, and my fiancé – they're both gone." I wasn't sure exactly just how far we'd travelled. It's like talking about this subject made time seem irrelevant. "I used them as crutches... I mean, I didn't really talk to anyone else much, did I?"

"You loved them, Sara. It's understandable."

His past tense use of the word hit me like a tidal wave. "I still do. I'm so proud of the way they left this world."

"Oh," Neville must have just understood what he'd said. "I didn't mean... I know you do."

"It's okay, don't worry about it."

"I've lost my parents... I can't imagine what it's like to lose a fiancé and a sister all in the same day. I mean, I wasn't old enough to know what was happening when it happened to me."

"But Neville, they're your parents." That's when he helped me to realize; I wasn't the one hardest hit – not by this or any war. Neville had been raised by his grandmother, George lost his twin, and my parents lost their daughter. Many more people had been affected and I had to stop being so selfish. At the same time, I couldn't help but miss Lizzy and Fred, and ponder all that we could have done once that wretched war was over.