Chapter Nine / Come On, Courage.

TIME STAMP: Approx. 3 months after the Battle at Hogwarts. (August 1998)

In this chapter, the Trio spends time apart while the Weasley Boys spend time together.


Stones taught me to fly,
Love taught me to cry.

So come on, courage,
Teach me to be shy.

It's not hard to fall,
When you float like a cannonball.

-Cannonball, by Damien Rice


Harry & Ron,

I won't be writing for a couple days. Our flight leaves tomorrow evening, so please keep Hemingway with you until Tuesday. Then he can fly to my parents' house once we're back in the country

I miss you both terribly but I'm afraid I won't be coming home just yet. Mum and Dad are still understandably shaken by everything and neither have taken well to the idea of me moving out and living with the two of you. I've decided to go live at home with them- at least for the time being. To give us all a sort of adjustment period. And I must admit I've missed them so much and it will be so nice to be home again without having to worry about what happening on the other side.

Ron, I know you won't be pleased about this, but please try to understand my situation. Please don't doubt that I am eager to get home to all of you. I just need some more time. Please understand. Hopefully I'll see the both of you soon.

Say hello to everyone, and Harry, give Teddy and hug from me!

Love from,

Hermione.


Harry,

Ron hasn't answered any of my owls. Is everything all right there? Is he really so mad at for me for moving back home? I miss him so much Harry; I wish he would write. Please let me know if anything is wrong.

How are things with Teddy? The pictures you sent were just adorable. He does look ever so like Remus. And he's growing so fast!

I'm going to try and make a trip to the Burrow for Ginny's birthday. Do tell Ron that, won't you? Maybe it'll lift his spirits some.

I miss you Harry, Ginny as well. She says one of Mr. Weasley's phones is working. Maybe you lot could pop over and give me a ring one day?

Give everyone my best!

Love from,

Hermione.


Hermione-

Ron is NOT angry with you. I promise.

Though, that is about the only thing I've been able to get out of him in the past few days. He's throwing tantrums worse than a teething Mandrake, and I haven't got a clue what to do about it. Him and George have been fighting something awful these past few days- but Ginny says not to worry, these things happen with siblings. I wouldn't know- you're the closest to sibling I've got, and we hardly even bicker.

Bill and Percy have been around the Burrow a lot, and Charlie is coming home from Romania for a week for Ginny's birthday. Maybe having everyone around will smarten Ron up a little.

You'll be here, won't you? Ginny misses you- we all do.

Can't wait to see you again.

Love,

Harry.

P.S. Don't worry about him, Hermione. If he doesn't come round soon I'm sure Mrs. Weasley can knock some sense into him.


Hermione smiled a little as she finished Harry's letter. The three of them knew each other so well, it was hardly a surprise that Harry knew to add such a postscript; knew she would fret over Ron's new attitude. She tucked Harry's letter back into its envelope and placed it neatly with the small stack growing in her desk drawer. Hemingway pecked at her hair from his perch above her at the windowsill.

"I won't send you back just yet." Hermione said quietly, more to herself than to the owl. She coaxed the bird to its cage and fed him some treats before circling the small room to sit on her bed. As much as she missed Ron, missed Harry and Ginny, she couldn't help but be glad to be back in her room, her own bed. So many nights she'd lay awake in that tent and wish she were home in her warm bed, with her parents safe down the hall. So many nights she flirted with the thought of leaving, of packing up and slipping away in the dead of night. But then Harry would twist and turn and moan in his sleep, as his and Voldemort's minds briefly became one, and Ron would come hustling in from his post outside. Hermione would listen to him shake Harry awake, his voice low and comforting. She would watch them, outlined in the darkness, still and silent, sitting close together- Harry's breathing panicked, Ron patting his back with a shaking hand. They needed her. And no matter how much she missed her parents, missed Hogwarts, or the comfort of her own childhood bedroom, she always knew she couldn't leave. She didn't want to. Her home was with them now.

Her room hadn't changed much over the years, simply gained reminders of the magical world she left behind every summer. The lilac wallpaper of her girlhood was dotted with photos whose subjects laughed and waved, a Gryffindor flag that she and Ginny had waved at a Quidditch match in 3rd year was pinned to the back of the door, her school robes hung neatly in the wardrobe. Beside her wand, on the bedside table, was a small, framed photo, one of the oldest she owned from her days at Hogwarts, it was one that Mrs. Weasley had taken at King's Cross at the end of 1st year. They had barely stepped onto the platform, the scarlet and steam of the Hogwarts Express made up the entire background of the picture. Bushy haired and youthful, Hermione's 12-year-old self stood to the right of the photo, smiling brightly. Opposite her, a young and terribly freckled Ron grinned like a madman. And between them, the youngest at only 11, was Harry. Baby-faced and still innocent, he laughed heartily and threw an arm around each of them. His friends. A boy with nothing had gained everything in that year, had gained friends, family, and although he hadn't known it then, enough responsibility and heartache to last him a lifetime.

Hermione brushed her fingers across the glass of the frame, across their young faces. It was amazing to think back to those days; they'd survived a troll and a chess set, and suddenly there they were: Harry, Ron and Hermione. A perfect set. As if it had always been that way. They felt alive and on top of the world in that instant, and Hermione longed to reach back in time and hold them there just a little longer, knowing painfully how quickly things would be complicated, and how fast they would have to grow.

"Hermione, love," Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door. Her mother's voice was soft and quiet; her parents had learned the hard way how easily she startled now. "Can I come in?"

"Er- yeah, Mum, fine." Hermione put the picture back on the table and stood, turning her back to the door to wipe tears from her eyes. When she turned around the door was shut again and her mother was standing awkwardly in the centre of the room.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked, alarmed when she saw Hermione's face. "Hermione, you've been crying!"

"Oh, Mum!" Hermione couldn't help herself. She darted forwards and threw her arms around her mother's neck. Mrs. Granger wasted no time in seating them on the bed and wrapping her arms around her daughter.

"You miss them, don't you?" she asked delicately. Hermione nodded against her shoulder. "But you aren't quite ready to leave just yet, are you?"

Hermione laughed a little. Few people could read her this way, and her mother was never wrong.

"Daddy will be livid when I do leave." Hermione said despondently, sitting up to face her mother.

"He's just concerned, honey, we both are…" Mrs. Granger hesitated. "That's why I came up here actually… I was hoping to speak to you about your… arrangements."

"My living arrangements?" Hermione guessed, a sudden chill in her voice.

"Now, don't you get bold with me, young lady." Her mother became flustered very quickly these days. There had been a few days of absolute peace once the anger at Hermione's memory charm had dissipated, before these dreaded conversations started up about Hermione's future. "You understand, Hermione, why we're worried. A young woman such as yourself, living alone with two teenage boys… I mean, Harry's lack of guidance I understand, the poor thing, but Ron! Where are his parents in all this? How can they allow such a decision to take place?"

"Mother!" Hermione threw her hands in the air, frustrated. How many times would she have to explain herself? "The Weasley's are a Wizarding family. They marry young, start large families. Mrs. Weasley was my age when she was married! Harry's parents had him when they were barely 20!"

Mrs. Granger looked appalled.

"Well, all the more reason! Come and live at home, Hermione! You could go to University, now that you're finished with the magic school. Living with Harry and Ron just isn't smart." She said vehemently. "How can we be sure neither will take advantage of you, with their crackpot Wizarding values and their-"

"Stop."

Hermione stood. Her voice was thin and her eyes blazing. Things had gone too far.

"Stop it right now, Mother. I won't hear that sort of talk. That kind of narrow-mindedness is the reason we just fought a war." Hermione held her hands together in front of her to stop their trembling. "I was tortured, Mum. Because in the eyes of the Death Eaters, I am dirt on their shoes. You and Dad aren't wizards, and these people would have killed me because of it. How can you judge Harry and the Weasleys when they are the reason I'm still here?"

"Hermione, don't be- don't be dramatic-" Mrs. Granger shook her head, but her argument was weak… tears filled her eyes.

Hermione shook her head sadly. She knew her mother wasn't angry, merely acting out of fear, out of love.

"Dramatics is for you to suggest that either of them would even dream of hurting me! These two have taken care of me better than you could have ever hoped, Mum. Harry walked right into Voldemort's hands. He walked to his death, to keep the rest of us out of harm's way. He has risked his life for Ron and I more times than I can count. And Ron…"

At the though of him, tears gushed to the surface, swam across Hermione's cheeks.

"You love him." Mrs. Granger supplied simply. Hermione just nodded, gazing over her mothers shoulder at the picture on the nightstand.

"He is the kindest, most loving and caring person I know." It was the only way she could put it in words for her mother. "He loves his family with everything he has, and he passionate about keeping them safe and happy. And I'm a part of that now, Mum. You and Dad will always be my parents, and I love you both so much… but they're my family too. I can't abandon them all to go off to University."

Hermione shrugged to herself, a hysterical giggle escaping her.

"I don't want to go to school. Here or there." She couldn't believe she was saying it herself, and her mother's face was masked by shock. "We fought this, we fought him so people like me, could live. Live without fear- live in both worlds. So my family would be safe, Mum, so you and Dad could be safe. And I can do that now! I don't have to worry about you, or about Harry, or Ron, or who might be following us."

Hermione met her mother's eyes.

"I'm a witch. And as much as I belong here… I belong over there too." Hermione sat on the bed next to her mother and took her hand. "You don't have to be scared. No ones going to hurt us, ever again."

And as her mother smiled, Hermione, for the first time, believed it.


A month into Hermione's absence, and a week after she moved back into her parents house, Ron had evolved into something quite dreadful. His mood and moral returned to one similar to that of their months of camping, and his already dismal housekeeping habits had declined even further. Harry spent most of his days following Ron around the flat, picking up his mate's trash, laundry and empty dishes. Ron had barely spoken to Harry in a week; only to ask how Hermione was, insist he wasn't upset with her. 'Just don't much feel like writing anyone right now', he'd said.

His performance at the shop also began to steadily decline as well, as Ron became increasingly unpleasant to be around. He was rude with customers, and anything anyone said could brew an argument. This all came to head one Saturday afternoon, when Harry was rudely awakened by one Lee Jordan. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa after a night of fitful sleep. Visions of Voldemort and death were swimming at the edges of his mind when he was shaken roughly.

"The Weasley's are about to lose another kid." Lee said, as soon as Harry's eyes slid open. The curly headed young man was leaning over Harry, their noses nearly touching.

"Sorry?" Harry asked dazedly, reaching for his glasses. Lee plucked them off the sofa table and stuck them haphazardly onto Harry's nose.

"Ron and George are at it again," Lee said seriously. "And there is no way on this Earth that both of them are making it out alive."

Harry snorted and turned his face against the couch cushions.

"Mate." Lee said, an inch of pleading to his voice. "I'm not joking here. Wands are coming out down there."

Harry groaned and sat up, straightening his glasses. "Well, what am I going to do about it, Lee?" he asked, annoyed by Ron's childish behaviors.

"I don't care what you do, just make it stop. Ron's made three children cry already and shop's barely been open two hours."

Harry haphazardly threw on some clothes and followed Lee to the kitchen. They took the floo, and as soon as Harry stepped out of the fireplace in the back office of the Wheezes, he could hear the shouting. Out in the main store, customers were crowded around, watching the argument unfold. Harry spotted his best friend almost immediately- across the store, pinning George to the wall by the collar. Blood dripped from George's nose and both brothers looked livid. Alicia Spinnet was standing next to them.

"Ron, let him go." she said loudly. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

"Everyone clear out!" Lee yelled loudly, shooing the crowd. "Go on, nothing to see here. Store's closed - have a nice day!"

Lee went to lock the front door behind the customers as Harry made his way cautiously up to the to red heads.

"Go ahead, Ron- hit me again." George snarled. He choked a little on the words- Ron's hand was constricting his windpipe. "Worse than a bloody Muggl-"

Harry knew before George even had the word out that it was the wrong thing to say. Before he could do anything, Ron pulled back punched George square in the face. Alicia screamed.

"RON!" Harry grabbed Ron by the back of the robes and yanked- George tumbled to the floor. Ron struggled, arms flailing and face full of fury, but Harry's hold was sound. "Stop it! STOP, Ron!"

"Let go, Harry!" Ron sneered, fighting to get back to George.

"No!" Harry shoved Ron towards an opposite wall. It was a difficult feat, as Ron was quite larger than he. "What the devil do you think you're doing?"

Behind them, George stumbled to his feet and towards the two. Ron stepped forward but Harry shoved him again, keeping himself between the two. Alicia gripped George's elbow, but he threw her off. Lee looked shocked.

"Get. Out." George said lowly, voice dripping with malice. He glared at Ron over Harry's shoulder. "Don't you ever come back here again."

"Come on." Harry grabbed Ron by the arm and wrestled him back into the office and into the floo. Ron fought him the whole way. Harry had never seen Ron in such a rage, had never seen him turn on one of his brothers like this and had no idea how to handle the situation. Out of pure desperation, he pulled Ron into the fireplace and threw the floo powder at their feet, shouting the first thing that came to mind.

"The Burrow!"

"What are you playing at?" Ron spat as soon as they fell out of the fireplace and onto the Weasley's hearth. He pushed himself up and shook free of Harry's grasp. "Get off me,"

"What are YOU playing at?" Harry demanded. Ron sat down on the sofa, arms crossed tightly, and a pout on his lips. He looked rather like a small child throwing a tantrum. Harry stood in front if him, arms spread in a kind of surrender. "What's gotten into you, Ron?"

"Nothing." Ron stared at Harry's elbow, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Ron. Come off it." Harry said loudly, ducking his head to try and catch Ron's gaze. "You were less miserable half starved with a Horcrux strung around your neck!"

Ron said nothing.

"What's going on in here?" Ginny came into the room, smiling pleasantly. Her face darkened when she spotted Ron with a bruised cheek and bloody knuckles. "What happened?"

"Never you mind." Ron snarled.

"Don't you snap at her!" Harry warned.

"She's my sister," Ron stood and stepped into Harry's space. "I'll snap at her if I want, thanks."

"Ron." Ginny said, not looking too bothered. "Bill's here."

Harry understood the significance of this statement. Ron had explained to him how the Weasley's had divided themselves as children- during the period of time when all the Weasley's lived at the Burrow, the elder children were assigned to the younger children, an idea of Mr. Weasley's to keep his brood under control. Percy took care of Ginny, Charlie looked out for the twins, and Bill was responsible for Ron. Now, in adulthood, these rolls were still enforced to an extent- the reason Ron took refuge at Bill's when he left Harry and Hermione.

"So?" Ron rounded on Ginny.

"Don't go picking fights here, you know he won't hesitate to put you in your place." Ginny said coolly.

"Oh sod off, no one asked you." Ron said, and he shoved Ginny towards the door. It was harmless. They were siblings, close in age and temperament and Harry had seen them push each other around more than once. But this was too much right now; Ron had crossed some invisible line and Harry's temper flared.

"Hey!" Harry yanked Ron away from his sister.

"Harry, don't." Ginny saw what was coming, and a rare flash of fear flitted across her face. "It's fine, just let him brood-"

"What the hell is going on?" Bill entered the room, no doubt attracted by their raised voices.

Harry ignored them both, grabbing Ron's arm.

"You try that again, and I swear, I'll-"

"Oh, shut up." Ron said dryly. "Quit acting like you belong here."

Silence.

Bill looked shocked. Ginny slapped a hand over her mouth, wide eyes on Harry. Every bit of color drained from Ron's face as he realized what he'd said.

Harry was frozen. Ron's words were like slap to the face. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown at him, and a heavy stone settled in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly felt sick. Harry let go of Ron's arm as if he had been burned, and then stumbled backwards.

"Harry-" Ron's voice shook.

Harry shook his head; he didn't want to hear it.

"I think you should move out." Harry whispered. He suddenly didn't want Ron around him anymore, didn't want to deal with his bitterness and misery. He missed his real best friend, the Ron that had disappeared over the previous weeks. He missed Hermione. He missed Remus, Sirius, and for the first time in a long time he longed for his parents. Longed for the comfort of his father, who had valued friendship so much, because surely he would have understood the agony, the betrayal that Harry felt in that moment.

The look on Ron's face was tragic as he turned and fled the room. Harry found he couldn't bring himself to care as he stood and listened to Ron pound up the stairs. A door slammed upstairs and Harry only felt hollow. Ginny was still staring at him. She knew better than to say anything, knew the only person who could fix this had just gone and locked himself in his room. Bill was the first to move. He moved forward and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Him and George have been fighting haven't they?" he asked, eyes weary.

Harry nodded. It took him a moment to get his throat unstuck. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw and watery.

"He put George on his ass."

Bill closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying for strength.

"He doesn't mean it." Bill said seriously. "You're as much a Weasley as the rest of us, kid. Whether you like it or not."

Harry just nodded, staring past Bill's shoulder into the kitchen where he could see the family clock- Fred's hand remained stuck on Mortal Peril. A newer hand, with Harry's name on it was wedged between Bill's and Ginny's pointed to 'Home'. Mrs. Weasley had had one for him and one for Hermione put in at some point during the war.

Bill nodded a little and put a hand against the side of Harry's head, ruffling his hair tenderly. It was an affectionate, older-brother type of gesture and it made Harry ache inside as he stared at Fred's hand still on the clock.

"I'll handle Mum if you want to take Ginny home with you tonight." Bill said. "Just behave yourselves."

Harry nodded again and Bill disappeared. Harry found Ginny's eyes and held her gaze as they listened to Bill take the stairs and knock on Ron's door. The door opened and then shut. Harry expected shouting. Instead loud harsh sobs met his ears. He couldn't take it anymore- the hurt was too much. He closed his eyes against it all. He only opened them when Ginny took his hand, and tugged him forward… It was all the invitation he needed.


At the top of the rickety wooden stairs Bill stood silently, staring at the peeling nameplate on his youngest brother's bedroom door. He wasn't going to yell at Ron. (He'd leave that to Mum). Something was wrong. Ron's anger was a defense mechanism. Fights and insults were a cover; a coping mechanism for hurt, misery, and loneliness. Bill knew when Ron was truly angry; he was mostly silent and brooding. This fighting and beating people? This was something entirely different. It was pure Ron, upset at the world and holding it in until he lashed out at everyone around him, including himself.

Taking a deep breath Bill knocked three times and waited. A few moments later he sighed as he heard two knocks on the bedroom wall- a secret code from their childhood. Three knocks: are you ok? Can I come in? What do you need? One knock: bugger off. I'm fine. I don't want to talk to you. Two knocks: I need you. I'm sorry. Let's talk. No knock back was a cause for concern- an all out "Get Mum, someone's sick or bleeding" emergency. They'd had a couple of those in their childhood. But this? This Bill could handle. He let himself into the room, closing the door behind him. Ron was sitting in the centre of the bed, long legs pulled in close, chin on top of knees. He looked like a small child, not a gangly boy of 18. He didn't look up when Bill walked in, just stared straight ahead at the bedpost. Bill watched him for a second before approaching and sitting down next to his brother on the bed. He lifted an arm and wrapped it across Ron's knees. A few seconds later he felt Ron's hand on his elbow, his finger tapping twice.

Two knocks.

I need you.

Except Bill knew it meant so much more- I need Harry, I didn't mean what I said. I miss Fred. I want Hermione to come home.

"I know." Bill said, lifting his arms to pull his brother in. "Hey, c'mere, I know."

Ron didn't fight the embrace and the second his head met Bill's shoulder he broke. He cried like a toddler, heavy and constant and snotty until he was gasping and choking on tears.

"Ron," Bill sighed, rubbing his little brother's back. "Ronnie, come on, talk to me."

Ron lifted his head and sat up; took a heaving breath, wiping his face clumsily.

"What happened with George?" Bill asked, pushing damp bangs off of Ron's face.

"I hit him." said Ron.

"You two have been at each others throats for a while now... How come?"

Ron shrugged.

"He's different now." Ron croaked. "You know he's always been a bit twitchy, but now it's like he worries about everything. Everything I do he double-checks. 'Did you do the inventory, Ron?' 'Is that the right ingredient, Ron? 'Don't fuck this up, Ron.' We haven't been getting along lately."

Ron pulled his knees in closer, viscously undoing the knot of his left sneaker as he spoke.

"And then this morning, he needed something from the office for a batch of Puking Pastels. Thought he told me to get it, but he didn't. The batch went to rubbish, he blamed me." Ron flung the shoe across the room at a poster where is hit the Captain of the Chudley Cannons square in the face. "We got into it. I said I'm not his bloody twin, I'm not a fill in for Fred and he can't expect me to read his mind. He went livid and started screaming at me and I- I-"

Ron struggled to get the second shoe off, his hands shaking. Finally he kicks out, the shoe flinging free and hitting the door, falling to the ground with a thud. Ron took a shaky breath.

"I just saw red, Billy." he said, looking at Bill. Bill searched his face carefully. There was no anger there now, just weariness, and guilt. "Next thing I knew, I had him up against the wall. I think I broke his nose."

"For Merlin's sake, Ron!" Bill scolded. He pinched the spot between his eyes; these boys were going to be the death of him. "You didn't leave him alone?"

"Lee's there." Ron said guiltily, shaking his head. "George said I ought not come back."

Ron blinked rapidly, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Hey, look at me." Bill ducked his head to consider Ron. He was thinner than Bill had ever seen him, his face gaunt, and his eyes were hollow and swollen, dark circles beneath them. "He'll let you back. I know he will. But, maybe..."

Bill hesitated. Ron just stared at him, not really seeing. Between them, his hands shook.

"Ron, I think you need a break."

"I'm fine." Ron said mechanically. The answer was automatic, no feeling behind it. Ron's expression didn't change.

"No, you aren't. Ginny says you don't sleep, you barely speak to Harry."

Ron shrugged.

"Ronald. This is serious." Bill said tightly, squeezing Ron's hands in his when his brother tried to squirm away. "Look at yourself, little brother. Let me help you. Please."

Ron didn't get a chance to respond as there were two distant popping sounds from downstairs, and then laughing and chatter and one pair of feet on the stairs.

"That'll be Charlie." Bill said absently. "Mum went to meet him at the Portkey office."

Ron went ashen.

"Merlin. I hit George." Ron breathed, eyes unfocused. "Charlie's going to kill me."

"No, he won't." Bill said evenly.

"Bill, what is wrong with me?" Ron was paper white, and trembling, face pinching as if he were in pain. Bill could see what was coming. Ron had been wearing himself down since the battle, had jumped right into Fred's place, caring for George, never even giving himself time to recover from the year he spent on the run. Ron was crashing, fast and sudden. He made to stand, and Bill was ready, catching Ron when his knees buckled, lowering both of them to the ground. Bill knew when to call in the re-enforcements. He wouldn't yell, wouldn't dare think of frightening their mother with Ron passed out against him, so instead, thankful that Charlie was in the house, Bill lifted one foot and kicked his heel against the wooden bedroom floor. Four times. The final piece of their secret sibling code, developed when it was just Bill, Charlie and Percy, and carried on with the others. Their house was old and the ghoul was noisy, and while four loud bangs echoing through the house would go mostly unnoticed by their parents, it was an SOS for the 7 siblings, and any of them in earshot would come running.

Bill had barely put his foot down for the fourth time when he heard the unmistakable sound of Charlie's footsteps, heavy and hurried on the staircase nearest to Ron's room. Bill didn't have to wait long. An instant later Charlie was standing in the doorway, looking shocked.

"Bill, what the hell happened?"

"Lock the door." Bill ordered, tightening an arm around Ron's limp form. "Mum doesn't need to see this."

Charlie obeyed and then came to Bill's side. Together, magic forgotten, they hauled Ron onto his bed. They propped him up against pillows and sat on either side of him as Bill quickly summarized the last hour's events for Charlie.

"Look at him, Charlie. He'll make himself ill, if he isn't already." Bill said miserably. He could let his defenses down in front of Charlie. Charlie was his first brother, his closest friend and together they made up the driving force behind the Weasley clan. Together, they could fix this. "He doesn't sleep, he barely eats... And the rest of us are hardly setting much of an example."

"This ends. Now." Charlie said firmly. Bill swallowed thickly as he met his brother's determined gaze.

"How're we getting through this, Char?" He whispered. It was a question he often asked himself. He whispered it aloud in the dead of night when Fleur was asleep beside him, when there was no one to answer- because there was no answer. It didn't make sense that they were still living, still breathing; how could they with a piece missing? "How are any of us still standing?"

"Because we've got to, we haven't got any choice." Charlie said firmly. "None of us gets to lay down and die because he's gone. We aren't losing anyone else." Charlie reached over pushed sweaty bangs off of Ron's forehead, laid his hand on top of his head. His voice lowered to a near whisper. "You hear me, kid?"

Ron did hear him, it seemed, and he groaned and stirred under Charlie's hand. Bill leaned in as well and gripped Ron's shoulder, squeezing gently. Ron blinked slowly and clouded eyes met Bill's, confused.

"You fainted, mate." Bill said gently.

Ron closed his eyes again and shook his head a little. "Blokes don't faint." he muttered, sounding a little peeved with himself. Charlie threw his head back and laughed, and Bill couldn't help but grin.

"How're you feeling?" Bill asked. Charlie conjured a cup of water and pushed it into Ron's shaking hand, helped him guide it to his lips.

"Feel like I went 3 rounds with a Dementor." Ron rasped, shivering slightly as he sipped cold water. He glanced sidewards at Charlie. "I hit your kid."

Bill smirked at that. Their assigned sibling duties caused much teasing when the twins were old enough for their mischief to get out of hand. They were Charlie's responsibility when their parents weren't around. "They're your kids," Bill would tease when Charlie glowered over a mess that they had made that he then had to clean. Looking back, it made sense that the twins were Charlie's... Despite his restlessness, Charlie had a surprisingly patient demeanor about him, and went on to handle dragons after handling his twin brothers; two tasks that Bill expected were actually quite similar.

"Forgiven." Charlie waved a hand nonchalantly and then reached out to touch the bruise forming on Ron's cheek. "Looks like he clocked you one anyways."

"We'll check up on George." Bill said assuredly. He gestured towards the cup in Ron's hand. "Finish that. Then you're going to get some sleep."

Ron obeyed, dutifully draining the glass before slumping down onto his pillows. Charlie removed Ron's shoes as Bill grabbed an extra blanket and threw it over him.

"'Msorry." Ron muttered, face mashed against the edge of the pillow. "Shouldn'ta said that... Harry b'longs to us."

"He knows that." Bill said, ruffling Ron's hair, just as he had done with Harry earlier. "Get some sleep, Ron."

He was snoring before his brothers left the room. Bill and Charlie stood outside the door for a while, backs against the wall, shoulder to shoulder just staring at the wall opposite them. They would need to go to Percy's flat, and to the Wheezes to collect George; the brothers all needed to be together tonight... But for right then, they were content to just stand together in the silence.

"Dinner's at 7, we're having Ron's favorite." their mother said lightly, when she walked past with the laundry. Not a word had been said to her about the day's events, and yet she still knew. She always seemed to know. "You'd best get moving if you're fetching the others."

Her two eldest cornered her almost instantly, their hug engulfing her. The laundry basket lay forgotten on the floor.


"Ginny, please, can't we just leave? I don't want to stay here."

Hand-in-hand, Ginny led Harry across the Weasley's yard, towards her father's shed. The sun was setting, and Harry had had enough of that day, was ready to just go home and crawl into bed and stat over tomorrow. Ginny, however, had other ideas.

"Just give me a minute, alright?" she said patiently. She opened the door and waited for Harry to step into the shed before following.

Harry's face was drawn and pale, and full of hurt. Ginny knew that out of anything that could have been said to Harry, what Ron had spat at him had stung the most.

"He didn't mean it, you know," Ginny said, running her fingers along the workbench as she walked slowly towards the back of the shed. The day's last rays of sunshine filtered through grimy windows, gleamed off of toasters and televisions. "This is what he does... When he's upset, you know? Though I've only seen him this bad once or twice before."

"I know." Harry nodded, thinking back to fourth year, Ron's violent temper and long silences. "I just want my best friend back."

"Which one?" Ginny asked gently, turning to face him.

"Both." Harry shrugged, scuffing at the dirt floor with the toe of his shoe.

Ginny sat atop a high stool at the worktable and allowed Harry to stand between her knees. Her hands on his chest, she tilted her head to one side as she looked up and considered him for a moment.

"I'll never understand it..." she said softly. A hint of the young girl she was when they met shone through the strong woman she had become. She looked vulnerable now. "This thing the three of you have... No one else is ever getting in there, are they?"

Harry looked into her eyes, and couldn't stand to lie to her. He felt the truth, but wasn't sure how to put it into words. He just shook his head instead, whispered an apology.

"This is different." he said finally. He felt raw. Open. Brave and daring enough to put everything on the table. One Weasley had pushed him out today, what was one more? "This- us... Ginny, I love you. I need you to believe that."

"I do." Ginny said simply. She smiled a little then. Harry put his hands on her knees, looked down at them; they were scarred badly, lines across his fingers and wrists, callused fingertips from Quidditch, and across one hand, I must not tell lies still stood out clearly. Sometimes he wondered why she even let him touch her with those hands, as damaged and scarred on the surface as he felt inside. He owed everything to her, and yet here all he had to give to her were scars and baggage. Harry took a deep breath.

"When I was a kid, I was alone. I felt so alone, all the time. I used to sit alone in that cupboard and think about what it would feel like to have a friend. Someone to laugh with, someone to share with, to care about." Harry couldn't meet her eyes, continued to look at the back of his hands. He'd never told anyone any of this before. "More than I missed my parents, more than I hated the Dursleys, I just wanted a friend. That was all I ever wished for. And then I got on the train to Hogwarts, and Ron walked into my compartment, and everything changed. He had all of you growing up, he didn't need me like I needed him, and he will never understand what he means to me..."

"And Hermione?" Ginny asked. Harry looked up then and caught a hint of something in her expression.

"Hermione belongs to your brother." Harry said, grinning a little. "And I would never in a million years dream I taking her from him, so don't you worry."

Ginny smiled, and whatever was in her eyes- doubt, insecurity, jealousy- disappeared.

"Hermione means to me what you mean to Ron, or to Charlie. I wished for a friend, and I got Ron. I wished for family, and the world handed me Hermione." Harry blinked rapidly and tried to look away. Ginny put a hand on his cheek, made him face her. "I love them, Ginny. I didn't know what love was until I met them. And I can't put you there; I can't put you in that relationship because I don't know how it happened in the first place. We walked into each others lives and we clung to each other and this, whatever the three of us are, it just happened."

"There's never going to be another Harry, Ron and Hermione." Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Bloody hell, I hope not." Harry laughed. When he sobered a little he leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "You gave me hope, Ginny. When I look at you, I think of the future. And in my head my future is you. It's you, and Ron and Hermione, and our houses are overflowing with kids with messy red hair, and Teddy never feels as alone as I did, and we're all just happy. And I want that so bad, Ginny, I swear to you I do."

"So do I." Ginny's voice was almost inaudible.

Harry took a quivering breath and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He admitted shakily. "Everything's such a bloody mess still… I kicked Ron out. Why would I do that?"

"Harry? Here…" Harry released Ginny as she reached across the workbench to grab something from behind him. A telephone. She held the receiver firmly in her hand and looked up at him. "Things aren't the same without her… and this- what happened today- this is good enough reason for her to come back."

Harry leaned down and kissed her. "Thank you." He murmured against her lips. She just smiled. Harry sat down on the bench and pulled Ginny into his lap, holding the receiver to his ear. Ginny dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hermione." When he heard her voice, his own choked up. He suddenly found it difficult to keep his composure. Over Ginny's head, through the shed's window he could see the Burrow. A light on in Ron's room showed the shadows of four older brothers, surrounding their youngest, and suddenly Harry wanted to be up their with them. Ginny wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and then he lost it. A broken sob escaped him.

"Harry? Harry, what's the matter?" Hermione's voice echoed clearly through the phone and Harry pressed it closer to his face, hoping she would come through it, appear next to him and Ginny in the shed, and together they would fix Ron, and everything would be okay again.

"He kicked Ron out." Ginny said, pressing her face against Harry's, phone nestled between them so they could both hear Hermione. "Your boys are very unhappy, and I think you should come home now."

"Oh, Ginny. What has he done?" There was movement on the other end of the line. Clothes being pulled out a wardrobe.

Harry didn't give Ginny the chance to answer.

"Come home, Hermione." He choked, squeezing Ginny to him. "Please come home. I don't know how to help him. He needs you."

"Okay. Alright, I'm coming." More movement, a trunk being slammed closed. "I'm coming, Harry. I'm on my way."

They hung up the phone and Ginny hugged him. Harry couldn't remember ever crying like this, didn't understand how someone could feel so wretched, and at the same time so comforted and loved. Ginny pressed her lips again his face, whispered quite nonsense to him, and for the first time in a long time, Harry let everything go.


A/N:

As many of you may know, there's something going on with the servers... I've been trying to update this story for the past week with no luck! Luckily, the awesome users on the forum came up with a fix. :)

I've already started on the next chapter, which will pick up right where this one leaves off... so this one is sort of a two-parter. Please, don't be shy, come and leave me a review! I love hearing what ya'll think! While you're there, what would you guys like to see from this story in the future? I promise the misery is going to taper off soon... we need a little happiness, don't you think? I've got plans for George & Angelina, Harry & Ginny, and OF COURSE Ron & Hermione. I've outlined a chapter about Bill and Fleur as well that you'll get to see soon enough. And I havn't forgotten about Teddy! :)

But what do you guys want to see? Let me know and I'll try and work it in!

Hope everyone is still enjoying!

-Laine