"H-Harry?"
The other man was half way out of his chair, obviously moving to embrace him, but something in the uncharacteristic wild gleam in the Commander's eyes warned him not to. That, and the hand that joined the other on the wand as he advanced caused him to decide to remain where he was.
"Ron....I-I'm so-"
Ron interrupted hastily, his emotions so tangled up inside of him that he was no longer the stoic Commander he had been for almost a decade, but the reckless Ron Weasley he used to be in Hogwarts.
"Are you or are you not Harry Potter?!?"
"Of course its me, Ron."
With this affirmation, the red headed man collapsed into his chair, face as pale as if he had seen a ghost. That was appropriate though, because the Ministry's records read Harry Potter: Deceased. Leaning forward to place his elbows on his desk, he buried his face in his hands, trying to cope with the emotional shock. Shifting restlessly from side to side, Harry made as if to place a comforting hand on the Commander's shoulder.
"Don't. Touch. Me."
The cold command of the Auror caused the living dead to recoil, emerald eyes wide in shock. He stared at the man behind the desk, no longer the familiar boy he had left behind, but a stranger who had dealt with far more than he could ever imagine. This was no longer Ron Weasley, but the Commander of the Aurors, whose fame and hardships surpassed even his own.
"Ron, I'm sorry, I couldn't stay, I just couldn't. There was nothing left for me, nothing at all."
"Harry, listen to what you're saying! Hermione and I were there, Dumbledore, my family, even Cho Chang! Sirius Black and Remus Lupin died that day, thinking they were helping to protect you. And you...you just vanished..."
Defeated, the accused let out a sigh. It was almost as if he had known he had done wrong, but couldn't bring himself to admit it, not until that moment.
"I know. I know I was stupid and I know I shouldn't have just vanished on you, but the point is, I'm back, and I want to try and help you against Him."
Furious now, the Commander rose again and strode around the desk, gesturing wildly. His mahogany gaze fixed and held the jade orbs of his long-ago friend.
"Harry, you don't understand! You're dead to me, dead to the wizarding world! Do you know what is after your name on the Ministry records? Harry Potter: Deceased. I went to your goddamn fucking funeral, Harry Potter! You're seven feet underground to me!"
By the end of his tirade, the crimson topped male was no longer the stranger Harry had no idea how to deal with, but the same old Ron he remembered, wild with grief and shock. Even as he watched, Ron slumped against a wall and slid to the floor, face buried in his ands, shoulders shaking with sobs.
"She's gone, Harry! Dead! She died that day too. I went to her funeral as well. Do you know how painful that was?! Two funerals, two friends. You were dead, Harry! But they never found your body, I know why now. But she died in my arms, Harry, she died in my arms! And I couldn't save her...."
Hesitantly the other man slid down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. When no rebuke came, he pulled Ron into a brotherly embrace, crying along with him. For a while, they were no longer the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Lost, but Ron and Harry, two friends crying for the missing piece.
Ron walked through the infirmary, trying to keep the tears from flowing. It was like this every time he walked this way, simply because it reminded him of when he had discovered Harry's demise. Escape, rather his mind told him. There was no reason to cry anymore, no reason for the hospital to trigger any tears. But it still did.
Harry walked beside him, his average frame dwarfed by Ron's near seven foot height. He kept looking around for people he knew, for familiar faces, for one in particular- a shake of his head flung the hope from his head. All his yearmates in Gryffindor were dead except for Ron, and most of all the others too. And she was most assuredly gone for good. There would be no miraculous reappearance of the final member of the trio for Ron, no maybe about her fate. She was dead.
"Commander Weasley, I got the sta-"
The bantam asian femme stopped short, her eyes wide upon her long ago fellow Seeker. A hand rises to cover her mouth while her other hand pointed at the Commander's companion.
"It's Harry Potter!"
The entire wing went silent at Cho Chang's cry, staring at the famous personage. He stared back, astonished at their reaction. Commander Weasley, seeing the silence was beginning to get sinister, opened his mouth to vouch for the man, even though he still didn't know why he had disappeared.
It was then that the fighting began.
(Author's Note: I know, I know, it's been a very long time, but life is hectic for me this time of year. I probably won't get another chapter out until June, but don't worry, I will finish it. It probably won't be very long, 10 to 12 chapters maybe. Maybe longer. I still haven't really worked out the plot, so even I don't know what's going to happen. Anyway, thanks for being patient and I hope you like this chapter.)