Okay, I want to preface this chapter with a sincere apology from the bottom of my heart.
I am the WORST! I know! It's been absolutely forever since I last posted a chapter for this story, and I have no real excuse. I got side tracked with study and work...(on the plus side I am now a fully qualified doctor!). Essentially, life got in the way.
I don't expect you to forgive me! I know how annoying it is when an author just lets their story dwindle, and that is exactly what I did.
I am now working full time, so I don't promise rapid updates, but I do promise that this story has now once again become the forefront of my mind and I will devote as much time as possible towards it. I do, however, require you to leave reviews because if I don't think people are enjoying it then I am unlikely to put time and effort into writing it.
And in case you were wondering, I am not J. ...if I was I wouldn't have had to devote the last few years of my life to studying for a career. I could just sit back and play around with the wonderful world I created. Ah, well...work beckons.
Chapter 3
Ginny was fuming. She knew she needed a release for her growing temper but she was currently in the middle of a very tricky levitation spell as she put stones back into place on the east wall of Hogwarts.
She knew her temper was probably out of proportion to the problem at hand, but Ginny tended to find that when her inner witch got fired up it took more than just logic and reasoning to calm her down. Usually she just needed to blast a few objects or toss some gnomes and she would feel much better.
But she was also conscious of the fact that she was at Hogwarts with a lot of people she knew nearby. She didn't want anyone to realize how upset she was about the next years' school arrangements. McGonagall had been speaking with Bill Weasley about the coming school year. Bill had mentioned that he didn't think Ron would be keen to return to Hogwarts of Harry didn't, and that he didn't think Harry was ready to return to school.
Ginny, naturally, had perked her ears up at the mention of Harry and had drifted towards the pair to eavesdrop. It was a habit she had picked up from the twins, and in her opinion it was a skill she far surpassed her mischievous brothers...brother, Ginny mentally slapped herself for that error in speech...as she had the advantage of being much tinier than any of her siblings and was therefore much more capable of remaining in unseen corners. Although, she thought ruefully, none of them had been blessed with indistinguishable features or an ability to blend into the background.
Neither McGonagall nor Bill noticed her approach and McGonagall continued unaware of the younger witches presence.
"The Board, or at least what remains of the Board, have decided that for students such as your brother who were due to commence their final year this year, but for extenuating circumstances were unable to complete, or in Mr Weasley's case commence, their NEWTS we will take into account their involvement in the war and their past performance in their schoolwork and grade them accordingly. The Board of Examiners have agreed that they will provide NEWTs where students are able to demonstrate their proficiency in the subject through an interview and practical demonstration with the examiners. This will negate the issue that the students have not been given a set curriculum and therefore are not able to have a standardized examination as is usually the case."
Bill nodded thoughtfully and Ginny bit her lip in concentration to hear everything whilst remaining unseen.
"What about Ginny?" Her brother asked.
McGonagall gave a one sided shrug and held her hands as if in apology.
"The board has granted these exceptions to those of Ron's year only, knowing that the graduating class will be sorely needed in the coming times, but the board has decided that all other year levels will need to continue on with their schooling. A summer bridging program will be established and extra tuition will be available during the year for students who feel as if they need it. Also if any graduating student would rather stay on at Hogwarts to complete their schooling they will of course be welcomed back gladly."
Bill scoffed. "I highly doubt my brother will turn down the chance to get out of school early."
McGonagall nodded.
Ginny felt tears prick at her eyes as she realized the implications of this. Once again she would be left behind at Hogwarts to wait and watch as many of her friends and family were allowed to stay and help where help was needed.
She didn't think it was right. She had surely proved herself in the war! Surely she deserved to be classed as an 'exceptional circumstance' herself!
That was when she had quietly slipped away from the pair before they could notice her and headed back to the wall she was helping to reconstruct. It didn't take long to realize she wasn't making much progress with her bitterness and jealousy bubbling beneath her surface. She sighed, putting a final stone into place before heading over to the ministry worker who was in charge of administration. She signed herself off and headed back towards Hogsmeade where the floo was open in the three broomsticks for any of the volunteers.
She decided to go home, and when she toppled out of the fireplace and managed to take a look around she quickly realized she was alone. Her mother was most likely off fetching supplies to continue her endless and frantic cooking.
Perfect, Ginny couldn't have hoped for better. She knew she was in no mood to talk civilly to anyone.
All her anger at the past few weeks, if not the past year, was beginning to surface. She was angry at McGonagall for letting the board make all the decisions about the school. She was angry she wouldn't be allowed to graduate with Ron and Hermione and Harry and Neville, and all the others who felt more like her year-mates sometimes than her actual year-mates. She was angry the war had happened in the first place and that her life had been so severely messed up by a selfish young boy named Tom. She was really angry at the trio for leaving her at the wedding all those months ago and never getting in contact with her, making her wait for news with baited breath every morning when the owls brought the daily news, or the evenings when she would huddle with fellow students around a battered radio to listen to Potterwatch. She was angry at Harry for being Harry and taking everyone's troubles as his own.
And she was REALLY angry that he had made NO mention of their relationship which HE had ended because of the war but had completely ignored since his return now that the war had ended.
Ginny thought, overall, she had been very understanding given the circumstances. She hadn't pressed him for details or answers to her unvoiced questions. She hadn't intruded into the little world that he and Ron and Hermione had cocooned themselves in since returning to the Burrow. She left them alone, knowing they probably had their own set of issues to work through as did everybody else.
But, she vowed, the next time she came across young Mr Potter she was going to take him aside...drag him if necessary...and work out what his DEAL was with her because she was now well and truly fed up.
She stormed down the back garden, making her way towards the line of trees at the far boundary. She followed the little trail off to the side where she knew most people didn't look. It was a trail that winded through the woodlands that surrounded Ottery St Catchpole and led to her favourite spot that she used when she needed to get away from the bustle and hubbub of the Burrow (inevitable when a family consists if six teenage boys).
As she made her way to the little pond she liked which had a large boulder beside it and provided the ideal seat, shaded from the cool breeze. Along the way she left no stone unkicked and no tree trunk un-hit with the large stick she was wielding like a cricket bat.
The release of her anger each time helped, and little by little she felt her temper begin to fade.
That soon changed, however, when she turned the final corner and saw who was perched on HER spot on HER favourite boulder.
Harry-frigging-Potter.
Harry was sitting, staring into the water and oblivious to all around him. His broomstick was leaning up against the boulder and Ginny could tell from his hair that was more mussed than usual he had been flying. He was sitting on top of the rock with his knees drawn up. Ginny almost felt a warm wave of empathy towards him...until she suddenly remembered that HE was one of the major reasons she was angry in the first place.
She ran up to the rock and kicked it hard, the sudden movement startling Harry and within a blink of an eye he had leapt of the boulder and was standing, wand out, in defence. Ginny was surprised at his speed, pulling her own wand and mirroring his stance.
"Don't even think about it, Potter!" She spat
Harry blinked in confusion before sheathing his wand and relaxing his posture.
"Ginny! You startled me! What are you doing out here? I thought everybody was out." Harry stared at Ginny, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he watched her wand which she had yet to put away.
"That's what I thought too. And the question is, rather, why are You sitting on My boulder?" she said, emphasising each word by prodding the air between them with her wand. At each prod sparks flew from its end and Harry stared wide-eyed as he watched sparks begin to light up amongst the hairs on Ginny's head.
"Your boulder?" Harry tried to tease casually and lifting his hands in mock surrender, sensing that if he were to make a wrong footing he might not come out of this confrontation with all fingers and toes intact. "I don't see your name on it anywhere," he tried again to turn the tone of conversation towards a more casual nature.
Ginny knew the joke was meant in jest, but she wasn't in the mood tone forgiving. Instead she walked over to Harry and before he had the chance to react she gave him a big shove, pushing with all the force she could give from her tiny body.
"Hey!" Harry rubbed his chest where she had shoved him.
"What was that for? What have I done?" He asked, quickly moving around the boulder so that he could establish some solid ground between himself and the irate redhead.
"What HAVEN'T you done you mean?" She said, though she could tell from his flinch that her voice was raised.
"I have LET you be! I don't pretend to understand ANYTHING of what you and Ron and Hermione went through last year! But those of us left behind wondering didn't have it any easier I'll bet! You didn't have to wipe the tears away from children whose parents has been tortured or murdered. You weren't the ones massaging muscles in CHILDREN who got on the wrong side of the Carrows! You have NO idea why I've been through either!
And I get it, okay? I GET that you need space and time and whatever else to get yourself together but you can damn well acknowledge that I exist! That we had a relationship! That we kissed goodbye that last time and did all that went with it knowing it could well be our last! That I L..."
Ginny cut herself short, very aware of what she had almost let slip. Neither of them had ever said Those words to each other and she wasn't about to let That particular bombshell drop right now.
In a quieter voice she continued. "We had something together Harry. You can't deny it. You can't deny that what we shared meant something. And when you left, I dunno, maybe I was mistaken but I thought you were going to come back to me. And now, since you returned you've been avoiding me, not even looking at me!"
Ginny sighed. Putting her wand back in her pocked and shoving at the rock with her sneaker, unable to look any longer at Harry who was staring at her wide-eyed and feeling stupid because she could feel tears pooling in her eyes. After getting a hold of her breathing she glanced up again at the wizard she had devoted her entire heart to.
"Just tell me Harry. Just tell me where we stand with each other, because I'm happy to wait for you for however long it takes, but if I've been reading this the wrong way you need to tell me now. If you don't want to get back together with me, if you don't share the same dream I have for us together, please tell me now because stringing me along is not just cruel, it's cowardly, and more than anything harry you are not a coward."
Ginny stopped there, giving Harry (who was desperately looking at anything but the red head in front of him) a piercing stare.
She could feel stinging behind her eyes. She knew her face was probably completely red and unattractive and she hated feeling like such a lovesick girl. She had never doubted, never questioned that Harry would come back to her. Oh she had wondered if he would live, but whether or not their love was true she had never given a second thought. And now, here she was for the first time realizing that maybe, yet again, she had fallen into that same one-sided relationship she had vowed she would avoid when Harry first starting spending the summers with their family.
Harry looked up at Ginny, his answer in his eyes. Ginny felt physically sick, quite literally felt her stomach rebel and churn and she gagged despite herself, ending up drawing in a gasping breath trying to get a hold of herself as she willed herself to listen to Harry as he began to speak.
"Gin…" he started before his words faded and he was left dry-mouthed.
He licked his lips, took a deep breath and began again. "I'm so sorry Gin" he said.
Ginny let out an almighty sob and her fingers began to clench around her wand.
Harry took a step forward, hands in a cautionary gesture as he moved slowly towards her.
"I am. I know I've been distant and stuff, but I'm really bad at this and..."
Harry pushed the hair away from his eyes, unsure. He knew he wasn't exactly an eloquent speaker, and when it came to talking about feelings and relationships he didn't exactly have a stellar history.
"...it's not you it's me?" He said, voice rising into a question. He heard that line said in all the breakups in the movies that Dudley watched and thought it was pretty suited to the occasion.
To his surprise Ginny let out a dry bark of laughter, and Harry felt goosebumps rise on the back of his neck, his hand gripping his wand ever so slightly tighter.
He tried again.
"...it's just...I've changed, you know?...and I don't think I'd be any good for you...and with all we've been through you really do deserve someone who knows how to do this relationship thing...and..."
"Harry."
Ginny cut him off and Harry drifted into silence waiting for her to speak again. She took a while, trying to find any words at all was a struggle but she persisted.
"Harry," she started again. "Harry, you don't need to explain. But I want to know if you're lying to me. Because I'll say it right now Harry Potter. I love you. I do. I always have. I always will. And I don't want anything more or anything less than You. Just Harry.
So if you mean it that you don't want to be with me anymore, that you don't want me to wait for you, then look into my eyes like a man and tell me to my face. Tell my you don't love me and you don't want to be with me."
Harry simply stared at her, speechless. His mind went into overload at her revelations. She loved him?
Harry was no stranger to the concept of love. After all, he thought sarcastically, hadn't love 'conquered' Voldemort in the end. He automatically blocked that train of thought before he went down that path and stared at the girl in front of him as his insides raged in turmoil.
If Harry was honest with himself he knew he might even L-word Ginny himself. But he also knew that at the moment with everything he had done and been through, with everything that had happened, with the media nipping at his heels in any direction he turned, he knew he was pretty badly messed up.
He didn't doubt Ginny's declaration, nor her vow to wait for him to put himself back together however long it took.
But the truth was Harry didn't think he would ever be able to put himself together. He considered himself broken, a broken boy/man, and didn't think there was a cute or fix for what he was. He was damaged goods.
And Ginny deserved so much better than that. She deserved someone who woke up every day ecstatic that the world had her in it...not someone who often woke up wishing he hadn't woken up at all. She deserved someone who would shower her with romance and love and happiness in private. Not someone who, on his darkest days found it hard to remember what love was and still woke every night screaming at the horrors of his dreams based on real memories more often than not. Not someone who would never, as Harry had come to learn, be allowed to live a private life. His every move and word was followed by the media. Whether the public loved him or hated him (and he had experienced both) he was destined to be in the public eye for a lifetime. His only notion of romance was what he had seen here at the Burrow, and the thought of children terrified him in ways he couldn't voice. The thought that he could create a life that might, like his, be destined for greater things was a terrifying one. Even more so was the thought of giving the Dumbledores of this world more pawns to manipulate in their own machinations. Harry would be happy to die alone in the end, he had already died once (twice?) and didn't want to drag anyone down the path that he envisioned led there. Certainly not Ginny Weasley.
So as she stared at him, eyes wide with tears that he could already see forming, Harry made the decision that he was sure was the right one. It would probably kill him to do it, but it wasn't like death and he were strangers!
So Harry took Ginny's shoulders in his hands and held her away from him. He looked into her deep brown eyes, drinking in the sight of her as he knew it would likely be his last for a while. He took a deep breathe and then said the words he knew he would never be able to take back.
"Gin…." he trailed off as he tried to find the words he needed to say.
"I….I don't love you."
He felt his throat close up, and he felt the world spinning around him as he watched her absorb his words, still held in place by his arms. He watched as her face changed from confusion to horror to disbelief. Then let his arms fall to his side as she wrenched herself away from him. He could see the little sparks of purple fire racing down the strands of her hair and he watched them in fascination and Ginny stood there, gasping for air as she looked at him. He watched a single tear start down her cheek, and resisted the urge to brush it away. He knew this was for the best.
Ginny stood frozen. Still running his words around her head again and again as she stood there in disbelief. She felt sick. Her throat burned. She could feel her legs and arms and body begin to turn into jelly and she brought one arm up to her face and realized she was shaking.
She looked back at Harry, standing so calmly and coldly after he had said his piece.
She had given her heart to him and he had shattered it completely.
She backed away a few steps, trying to regain some balance in her world which had just been thrown upside down and inside out.
She took some deep breaths before she turned on her heel and began to make her way back up the path she had come. She only took a few steps before she suddenly turned, wand at the ready and without thinking she blasted a fierce stinging hex at Harry, one that she had been making small adjustments to over the past couple of months for fun. It hit him squarely on the backside and Harry, who usually was able to duck any shot thrown at him, yelped and clutched his backside where the spell had hit him.
Serves him right, Ginny thought.
Then, about to turn on her heel once more she gave Harry one last look and tried to fill her glare with as much anger and hurt as she could. She smiled wryly when Harry physically recoiled from her look.
"FUCK YOU HARRY POTTER"
She screamed with every ounce of energy she had, before turning once more and running up the path, slamming the back door as she flew through the house, ignoring her mothers surprised cry, and fleeing to her bedroom where she double bolted the door and flung herself onto her bed, finally letting out the tears that had been building and dissolving into racking and heaving sobs.
That was the last time anyone saw Ginny for the rest of the summer. She stayed holed up in her room, picking at whatever food her mother brought her and spending hours lying on her back on her bed staring blankly at the ceiling. The only people she let into her room were her parents, and although at the start she had shed a flood of tears she refused to let anyone see them. After a while her tears flowed less freely and instead she felt as if a blanket had covered her emotions. She felt fatigued and worn thin, all her emotions seemed blunted and hazy. She wasn't at all sure what this change meant but she embraced it all the same.
She spent endless hours doing her summer assignments and did more prereading for the coming school year than she had ever done in her life.
Because during the war many students' parents had lifted the trace on their wands Ginny was free to practice her wandwork and spent hours perfecting her charms and transfigurations, tweaking the spells here and there to her own liking. She was sure if her teachers knew she was meddling with the spells they had assigned they would be less than thrilled, but Ginny was a firm believer in the phrase 'See no evil, hear no evil' and so she didn't really put much energy into worrying.
She had collected dozens of spell books over the years, as they seemed to be a safe gift and when unknown relatives had to buy her presents it tended to be a book. She had never read half of them, but now in her self-imposed confinement she devoured them all. Some gave tips and advice on how to make minute changes to spells and Ginny found spell modifications came quite easily to her. She had always had a good arm for hexes and it seemed as if that held true for most charms. Transfiguration was much more difficult for her and she thought that it was likely because she had little patience for the transfiguration mentality. It required an intense focus on minute details and Ginny usually found herself by the bigger picture.
So Ginny would lie on her bed, surrounded by flickering fairy lights and stars of her own creation. She painted her walls the colours that she felt, and some days this would result in balls of fire and billows of black cloud swarming and suffocating the room with darkness. Some days when she felt less dark she would cover the walls with white swirling clouds and vast expanses of shades of blue and she would sit on her bed and feel as if she were flying. At other times when her mind wandered into the realm of those she had lost in the war she filled the walls with fireworks, sparkling and glittering they lit up the room and their light painted her face with all the hues of the rainbow.
Nobody in the house questioned Ginny's sudden retreat into her room. More than a few suspicious glances were aimed at Harry but he remained exceedingly tight lipped about anything that had transpired between him and his (now ex-) girlfriend. Ron and Hermione sat him down and asked him one day several weeks after he and Ginny had their confrontation by the pond, but Harry was resolute in his refusal to talk and so the pair dropped the subject, neither wanting to experience first hand Harry's biting tongue he unleashed when he was cornered into talking about his feelings. All they were told by Harry was that he and Ginny had come to a mutual understanding that they should not be together and that was that.
Harry, like Ginny, avoided the other people in the Burrow as much as possible. He took to going to 'work' early and coming back late. When he did return he would head into the backyard to fly endless circles and nosedives, flying at such steep angles and at such speed that Mrs Weasley had taken to pinning the direct floo address for the Broom Injuries department at St Mungos onto his broomstick to emphasise her disapproval. At times Harry would disappear into the woods in the back, not to be seen for hours at a time and always refusing the company of others, whilst at other times he would go to his bed in Ron's room and lay on his side, facing the wall. When he was like that nobody dared to touch him.
Harry's 'work' generally consisted of going to the ministry every morning and tagging along beside Kingsley who seemed to be using Harry as some sort of ministerial stamp. He would take Harry into a room and Harry would sit through a meeting. Towards the end of the meeting Kingsley would ask Harry if he agreed with what was being said. Harry was usually so far off in his daydreams that he would just nod his head, the matter would seem to be settled and they would rise, shake hands and head to the other meetings.
Harry liked Kingsley, he had always struck him as an honest sort of bloke. But Harry was beginning to suspect Kingsley was using Harry's fame and current status within the community as some sort of bargaining chip.
Harry didn't like the feeling he was being used.
But at the same time Harry recognized the ministry was in shambles. And he knew that things needed to be put back together before the wizarding world could truly begin to move on. And if his presence meant that this happened in a smoother fashion then how could Harry complain?
Still, it grated him.
And the ones who wore his temper when his moods took a turn towards the black or when things at the ministry became too confusing and frustrating were Ron and Hermione. Harry would snap at them, and when he wasn't snapping he was immersed in his own dark broody silences.
Ron and Hermione were worried about him, but unsure how they could help. Ron would challenge Harry to a game of chess or a fly around the yard, or Hermione would ask Harry about his day and perkily tell him about hers.
Nothing seemed to raise a smile from their friend.
Besides Harry the pair were devoting most of their time exploring the new development in their relationship, and if they were truly honest they didn't want to ruin their newfound bliss by becoming Harry's punching bag.
In fact, the only person who really had any chance of snapping Harry out of his funk was currently holed up in her room and mending her own broken heart.
And so life at the Burrow continued on uneasily. Mrs Weasley continuing to acknowledge the loss of one of her sons and shouting at anyone who tried to breach the subject with her. Mr Weasley spent his days in the toolshed or at the ministry, although his tinkering had reached a standstill and instead he could usually be found sitting at his workbench with his head in his hands. George remained bed bound in his room, refusing to emerge and barely eating, the plates placed in his room by his mother remained largely untouched. Percy now visited almost every night for dinner, sitting silently with the others at the table and leaving as silently as he came. Bill and Fleur had returned to Seashell Cottage, and Charlie was staying with a friend nearby.
The once bustling and bubbly atmosphere of the Burrow was now sombre, a great cloud now hanging over everyone as they pushed on with their lives.
Eventually the time came for school to start, and Hermione volunteered to fetch Ginny's schoolbooks (much to Ron's disgust and with many eye rolls from the boys). When Hermione made her way up the narrow staircase to deliver them to Ginny she was surprised when the young witch opened the door for her and let her in.
Hermione glanced around the room. It certainly wasn't the dump she had been expecting, the sort of untidy pigsty Harry tended to let his room become when he was having his 'moods'. Instead everything was ordered and tidy.
Curious, Hermione perched herself on the end of the bed and gestured to the already half-packed bag.
"I've never seen a Weasley so prepared for the coming term!" she said with a smile.
Ginny gave a half-hearted smile in return but Hermione could see her heart wasn't in it.
Hermione sighed and looked closely at the witch in front of her. Ginny had noticeable dark lines beneath her eyes, looked as if she had lost a significant amount of weight and she looked drawn and tired. Her hair, normally the trademark gleaming red hair of the Weasley Clan, hung limp and dull.
She looked like she was going through hell.
And Hermione wished there was something she could do. But she knew Harry, and if Harry was determined to end their relationship then Hermione had no doubt it would be impossible to change his mind.
She sighed, and Ginny, knowing she had just been assessed and found wanting, opened the door wordlessly and gestured for Hermione to leave.
Hermione left without saying anything, just giving the other witch a sympathetic smile that she hoped would appear encouraging and understanding. Then she made her way outside to find Ron lying next to the lavender watching the clouds. She knelt down beside him before settling herself into place on the grass with her head on his stomach and watching the clouds with him. His hand reached out and found hers and he began to rub small circles on the back of hers with his thumb. Hermione sighed, and with all her heart she hoped that Ginny and Harry would find their way back to each other, but with so much currently unsaid she wasn't at all sure how possible that would be.
The day came for Ginny's departure to Hogwarts. In contrast to the usual crowd that attended a Weasley departure at Kings Cross Station Ginny found herself standing morosely on the platform with her luggage. Her mother and father had both come to stand with her, a look of such mournful longing was on their faces as they watched the other parents on the platform say goodbye to their children. Ginny turned away, her stomach churning with her own grief and unable to bear to add to it her parents sorrow.
Hermione had manages to drag Ron along to say goodbye to his little sister, although to nobody's surprise Harry had declined the invitation to join them. Instead Hermione had an overly-bright smile plastered on her face and was trying to keep up a jovial tone despite the glares she was getting from Ginny.
Ron just stood in the middle of the platform looking awkward, miserable and out of place. Ginny sidled over to him and put her arm around his waist in a one armed hug. Ron squeezed her tight and gave the top of her head a peck.
"I'm sorry Gin. I know I'm not much fun hey?" He said with a wry grin.
Ginny understood. Ever since he had returned Ron had remained inside the house, refusing to go to Diagon Alley, to Hogsmeade or even to the little village of Ottery St Catchpole.
Nobody had made any mention of it, knowing as they all did that each and every one of them would have their own demons to face now the war was over. Ron had also developed the habit of refusing to be left on his own. If Ron was the last person left in the room he would seek out the company of someone, if Ron was in a room with someone it hadn't escaped anyone's notice that he kept one watchful eye on them and would find some excuse to follow them when they left. It was as if he was deathly afraid that if he lost sight of others they would all disappear and he would be left alone.
So Ginny knew it must be difficult for him to have come to the station and she was exceedingly grateful to her youngest older brother. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek in return and, dropping her bags, she stretched both arms around his tall and lanky frame to give him a proper hug.
As Ron bent down his head she leant towards his ear to whisper 'don't be angry at him Ron. I know I've been a miserable sulk these past few weeks but it's not his fault, okay?' She whispered.
Ron have her a squeeze in return. The past few weeks had been exhausting as he alternated between worrying about Harry and then worrying about his little sister. He strongly suspected Harry was in the wrong and he knew what an idiot Harry (and all boys he supposed) could be in relationships. But he also knew he could not possibly understand what Harry was going through. Hermione and he had not yet heard the entire story of what happened in the forest, but from the few things Harry had let slip they realized that whatever had happened when Harry marched out to meet Voldemort had been life-changing. And Ron knew first hand how much Harry's demons were haunting him. Ron had been sneaking off to Hermione's room most nights, but when he stayed the night in Harry's room he would inevitably be woken by the thrashing of his best mate in bed. Harry would be caught up in his sheets, tossing and turning and voicelessly screaming whether in horror or agony Ron could never tell. But in the mornings he never made mention to Harry of these episodes, nor of the times when Harry, delirious from sleep terrors, would huddle at the head of his bed against the wall, arms protectively wrapped around his chest and shoulders moving in silent wracking sobs. Ron suspected Harry subconsciously cast a wandless silencing spell on himself at night, because even in his night terrors when he half-woke to Ron stroking his head or holding him in his arms as he cried out his terror and anguish, he would murmur whispered words that Ron was unable to hear in his silence before resting his head against Ron's chest as he fell asleep.
Ron wasn't sure how to help his friend. He was glad his presence settled Harry, but there were nights when his own demons overcame him and instead of remaining by Harry's side as he knew a best-mate should he took the cowards way and retreats into the warm arms of his girlfriend who never turned him away and who would stroke his own hair until he slept, leaving Harry to fend off his own nightmares only rooms away.
For all these reasons and more he had decided to keep out of whatever was happening between Ginny and Harry. He knew that in the end there would be no winning side in their drama and that the best thing he could do would be to stand back and help pick up the shattered pieces of two of the people he loved most in the world.
So Ron simply have Ginny and extra tight hug before gently pushing her over to their parents for her final goodbye.
Mrs Weasley could barely contain her sobs as she brushed some stray hairs off Ginny's face. Mr Weasley didn't seem to be faring much better as he kept his lips in a tight line in what appeared to be an effort to retain control. It didn't seem to be working very well, however, as tears ran down his cheeks in rivers, wetting Ginny's head as she clung to his chest.
The train was making more and more noise in the background, and the platform was rapidly clearing of students. Ginny gave both her parents one last squeeze before gathering her things and making her way towards the train carriages where the final few students were boarding. She hauled her luggage onto the carriage and then, climbing up herself, she turned to wave goodbye to her family. Hermione was still grinning in an almost demonic way as she forced happiness onto her features, and Ron stood beside her with his hand raised in a last farewell. Ginny choked back a sob as she waved goodbye, turning back towards the train.
Nobody even noticed the dark silhouette of a young man with a hoodie obscuring his face, watching the students board from a shadowed corner of the platform.
I hope that makes up for some of the anger you have towards me for leaving this story for too long.
Again, I can't stress enough that I NEED reviews to know if you are enjoying (or not) my story and to give me the fire to continue onwards.
xoxo
