THAT SUMMER, Chapter 3
By Reija Linn
Harry
The days were getting better as another week passed. Though I still felt numb, it was much easier to talk about my feelings with Bill, and listen to his in return, after the first step had been made. And slowly, to the outward world, our lives went back to normal. At least we had regular meals and every-day stuff like that.
I also started my training with the pharaoh's subordinate, a cranky old wizard by the name of Azhame. He was moody, and always unsatisfied with my progress, rubbing it under my nose that he'd taught six-year-olds with more talent than me, but after an initiate time of feeling irritated about this, I guessed correctly that it was just his way of spurring me on. And he knew a lot about the Dark Arts, and fighting against them, guess he had to as the pharaoh's most trusted man.
And I had to admit, in comparison to what I was learning from him, even the Advanced DADA classes I'd attended in Hogwarts were but child-play. I even got to fight a live mummy, not to mention learning to ward off some of the fiercest curses as well of our times as of the Ancient Egyptian period.
So although my pain had not lessened at Ron's death, and Mr. Weasley's of course, my days were far too occupied to ponder on it too much. Guess you could call it a kind of repression, if you wanted to, but at least I had something to do.
The nights were a totally different matter altogether. Again and again I replayed the scene in my mind, each night after finally falling asleep. Ron and I, clinging closely to each other, each trying to protect the other, both of us unable to *do* anything, to act, even with seven years of Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Mr. Weasley, throwing himself before us, catching the curse that was meant for me... Bill, shouting in terror while throwing a curse of his own at the Death Eaters... Ron, slipping out of my grasp, running to where his father had fallen... jumping between me and the Death Eater's at the last second, not even noticing the blinding light around him until it was too late... the shocked disbelief on his open-mouthed face, as the green light of the Avada Kedavra curse engulfed him... three last words silently spoken, before he collapsed... the green light that was encircling me, too, and for some reason, once again in my life, took no effect... another one who had given his life for me out of pure love...
Most of the time I managed to wake myself before coming to that point.
But one night I woke up screaming at this replayed memory I hadn't even fully remembered before. And then, sitting upright in bed, I cried like a small child at the injustice of it all. That curse, both of them, had been meant for *me*, and such wonderful people as Ron and Mr. Weasley hadn't deserved to die just for *my* sake.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, warm even through the thin cloth of my t-shirt, trying to get me out of my state, but I was far too lost in the memory to even acknowledge it's presence, until I felt a pair of strong arms encircling me, pulling me to a shacking bare chest. I then realized that Bill, who was holding me, who was attempting to comfort me, was crying also.
I don't know how long we sat there, trying to comfort each other, slightly rocking in our embrace, before we both fell asleep on my bed, still holding to each other as if to dear life. I don't know which of us fell asleep first, but I know that the rest of the night thankfully passed dreamlessly.
When I woke the next morning, I felt slightly ashamed for waking Bill in the middle of the night with my nightmares. But then, I guessed since he had been crying, too, he'd either been awake at the time, or having a nightmare of his own.
Bill had already gotten up, I could hear the sounds of dishes in the kitchen, and was that a frying pan? Despite the terror of the previous night, I suddenly felt hungry, and after quickly getting fully dressed, I entered the small kitchen.
'Morning, sleepy-head,' Bill acknowledged my presence without turning, as if the previous night hadn't happened at all. For which I was grateful. We didn't speak again until he set two plates loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon and toast down on the table and placed himself opposite me. And though the dark shadows under his eyes reminded me of the previous night, I couldn't but respond to his smile with one of my own. It wasn't totally happy - but then, neither was his.
"I'm going back to work, tomorrow," he announced over breakfast. "Will you..."
"Yeah, I'll be alright." Azhame's lessons started at early evening, and I'd have to spend all day alone in the flat - I wasn't feeling up to leaving it and take a look at the town yet - but it would be alright. I'd still have Hedwig for company - she had been vastly neglected during the past two weeks. And although it was hard to accept, we *did* have to get on with our lives. Plus, I reckoned work would take Bill's mind off everything at least for a little while, as my lessons did for me.
"I got an owl from Percy this morning," he added, looking at me with hazel eyes. "He says he's doing okay, considering."
I nodded, not knowing what to reply to this.
"The doctor's have finally allowed him to visit my Mum. They say she's improving, though she still hasn't spoken a word, since... well."
Bill, as I, was still unable to say it. But I understood.
"Charlie offered him to stay in Rumania with him, but Percy thinks it's his duty to stay with Mum, and do whatever he can at the ministry. At least he has a post now in which he can achieve at least a little."
I nodded into my eggs, amazed at my own inability to phrase any coherent sentence.
"Harry..." I looked up, startled at the softness his voice had taken on, suddenly, after the monotonous tone he had used before. "It's alright, you know. I feel like that, too. I have nightmares, and I cry myself into sleep, and I wonder if life can ever go back to normal. And I just want to find something I can bloody *do* about everything. But it seems were damned to idleness right now, though your lessons with Azhame are a good starting point. But we should never be ashamed for feeling, you know."
And I knew then I was not alone with this grief. I'd known before, intellectually, but I'd been used to everyone depending on *me* being strong all my life, I don't think I ever learned to lean on someone else. Even with Ron and I, it was always the other way round...
"Thanks, Bill."
We spent the day practicing some of the counter-curses Azhame had taught me, and I found Bill knew a great deal about Defense Against the Dark Arts - of course, he was curse-breaker for Gringotts, and they only employed highly-specialized people, as far as I knew. We decided to learn together, in mute agreement that when the day arrived when we could return to England, we would fight together, as much for justice as to avenge the people we'd lost.
That day was the first time in two weeks I felt I belonged somewhere, if only for the time being, and the first time I had something to live for, if it was only the thoughts of vengeance at the time.
When we took a late supper after I'd returned from my lessons for the day - Azhame was a strict teacher, and did not allow even for a single day off, not even on a Sunday - I told Bill something I had never told anyone before.
"Ron..." I faltered at the name, I hadn't spoken it since... "Your brother and I were lovers, you know. We didn't tell anyone, I'm not sure why, I guess we were both afraid people would react badly..."
In Bill's eyes, I saw no revulsion, only pain and sympathy, so I continued. "We only got together last summer, when I was staying at the Burrow... we didn't even tell Hermione, and when we were finally ready to, there were too many other things on everyone's mind, our own ones included. That's the reason he wanted to join me here so desperately. It was his own choice, I actually tried to persuade him otherwise, but he was so persistent... and in a way, I was selfish, I didn't want to face everything alone, and I didn't want to be parted from him for so long."
Bill's eyes lit with understanding, and compassion. Silently, he moved behind, only slightly touching my shoulder, but it was an assuring touch. "And now you feel guilty, right?"
I desperately tried to blink back the upwelling tears that threatened to break loose any moment. "Yes," I whispered, almost inaudibly, but I guess Bill understood anyway, since the pressure on my shoulder grew slightly firmer, and he finally said, almost as silently as I myself had spoken,
"We all do, Harry. Even though none of us is to blame, we all do."
We went to bed then, and it was for pure comfort and need of warmth, at least back then, that we no longer slept in our separate beds, but shared Bill's narrow bunk together.
By Reija Linn
Harry
The days were getting better as another week passed. Though I still felt numb, it was much easier to talk about my feelings with Bill, and listen to his in return, after the first step had been made. And slowly, to the outward world, our lives went back to normal. At least we had regular meals and every-day stuff like that.
I also started my training with the pharaoh's subordinate, a cranky old wizard by the name of Azhame. He was moody, and always unsatisfied with my progress, rubbing it under my nose that he'd taught six-year-olds with more talent than me, but after an initiate time of feeling irritated about this, I guessed correctly that it was just his way of spurring me on. And he knew a lot about the Dark Arts, and fighting against them, guess he had to as the pharaoh's most trusted man.
And I had to admit, in comparison to what I was learning from him, even the Advanced DADA classes I'd attended in Hogwarts were but child-play. I even got to fight a live mummy, not to mention learning to ward off some of the fiercest curses as well of our times as of the Ancient Egyptian period.
So although my pain had not lessened at Ron's death, and Mr. Weasley's of course, my days were far too occupied to ponder on it too much. Guess you could call it a kind of repression, if you wanted to, but at least I had something to do.
The nights were a totally different matter altogether. Again and again I replayed the scene in my mind, each night after finally falling asleep. Ron and I, clinging closely to each other, each trying to protect the other, both of us unable to *do* anything, to act, even with seven years of Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Mr. Weasley, throwing himself before us, catching the curse that was meant for me... Bill, shouting in terror while throwing a curse of his own at the Death Eaters... Ron, slipping out of my grasp, running to where his father had fallen... jumping between me and the Death Eater's at the last second, not even noticing the blinding light around him until it was too late... the shocked disbelief on his open-mouthed face, as the green light of the Avada Kedavra curse engulfed him... three last words silently spoken, before he collapsed... the green light that was encircling me, too, and for some reason, once again in my life, took no effect... another one who had given his life for me out of pure love...
Most of the time I managed to wake myself before coming to that point.
But one night I woke up screaming at this replayed memory I hadn't even fully remembered before. And then, sitting upright in bed, I cried like a small child at the injustice of it all. That curse, both of them, had been meant for *me*, and such wonderful people as Ron and Mr. Weasley hadn't deserved to die just for *my* sake.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, warm even through the thin cloth of my t-shirt, trying to get me out of my state, but I was far too lost in the memory to even acknowledge it's presence, until I felt a pair of strong arms encircling me, pulling me to a shacking bare chest. I then realized that Bill, who was holding me, who was attempting to comfort me, was crying also.
I don't know how long we sat there, trying to comfort each other, slightly rocking in our embrace, before we both fell asleep on my bed, still holding to each other as if to dear life. I don't know which of us fell asleep first, but I know that the rest of the night thankfully passed dreamlessly.
When I woke the next morning, I felt slightly ashamed for waking Bill in the middle of the night with my nightmares. But then, I guessed since he had been crying, too, he'd either been awake at the time, or having a nightmare of his own.
Bill had already gotten up, I could hear the sounds of dishes in the kitchen, and was that a frying pan? Despite the terror of the previous night, I suddenly felt hungry, and after quickly getting fully dressed, I entered the small kitchen.
'Morning, sleepy-head,' Bill acknowledged my presence without turning, as if the previous night hadn't happened at all. For which I was grateful. We didn't speak again until he set two plates loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon and toast down on the table and placed himself opposite me. And though the dark shadows under his eyes reminded me of the previous night, I couldn't but respond to his smile with one of my own. It wasn't totally happy - but then, neither was his.
"I'm going back to work, tomorrow," he announced over breakfast. "Will you..."
"Yeah, I'll be alright." Azhame's lessons started at early evening, and I'd have to spend all day alone in the flat - I wasn't feeling up to leaving it and take a look at the town yet - but it would be alright. I'd still have Hedwig for company - she had been vastly neglected during the past two weeks. And although it was hard to accept, we *did* have to get on with our lives. Plus, I reckoned work would take Bill's mind off everything at least for a little while, as my lessons did for me.
"I got an owl from Percy this morning," he added, looking at me with hazel eyes. "He says he's doing okay, considering."
I nodded, not knowing what to reply to this.
"The doctor's have finally allowed him to visit my Mum. They say she's improving, though she still hasn't spoken a word, since... well."
Bill, as I, was still unable to say it. But I understood.
"Charlie offered him to stay in Rumania with him, but Percy thinks it's his duty to stay with Mum, and do whatever he can at the ministry. At least he has a post now in which he can achieve at least a little."
I nodded into my eggs, amazed at my own inability to phrase any coherent sentence.
"Harry..." I looked up, startled at the softness his voice had taken on, suddenly, after the monotonous tone he had used before. "It's alright, you know. I feel like that, too. I have nightmares, and I cry myself into sleep, and I wonder if life can ever go back to normal. And I just want to find something I can bloody *do* about everything. But it seems were damned to idleness right now, though your lessons with Azhame are a good starting point. But we should never be ashamed for feeling, you know."
And I knew then I was not alone with this grief. I'd known before, intellectually, but I'd been used to everyone depending on *me* being strong all my life, I don't think I ever learned to lean on someone else. Even with Ron and I, it was always the other way round...
"Thanks, Bill."
We spent the day practicing some of the counter-curses Azhame had taught me, and I found Bill knew a great deal about Defense Against the Dark Arts - of course, he was curse-breaker for Gringotts, and they only employed highly-specialized people, as far as I knew. We decided to learn together, in mute agreement that when the day arrived when we could return to England, we would fight together, as much for justice as to avenge the people we'd lost.
That day was the first time in two weeks I felt I belonged somewhere, if only for the time being, and the first time I had something to live for, if it was only the thoughts of vengeance at the time.
When we took a late supper after I'd returned from my lessons for the day - Azhame was a strict teacher, and did not allow even for a single day off, not even on a Sunday - I told Bill something I had never told anyone before.
"Ron..." I faltered at the name, I hadn't spoken it since... "Your brother and I were lovers, you know. We didn't tell anyone, I'm not sure why, I guess we were both afraid people would react badly..."
In Bill's eyes, I saw no revulsion, only pain and sympathy, so I continued. "We only got together last summer, when I was staying at the Burrow... we didn't even tell Hermione, and when we were finally ready to, there were too many other things on everyone's mind, our own ones included. That's the reason he wanted to join me here so desperately. It was his own choice, I actually tried to persuade him otherwise, but he was so persistent... and in a way, I was selfish, I didn't want to face everything alone, and I didn't want to be parted from him for so long."
Bill's eyes lit with understanding, and compassion. Silently, he moved behind, only slightly touching my shoulder, but it was an assuring touch. "And now you feel guilty, right?"
I desperately tried to blink back the upwelling tears that threatened to break loose any moment. "Yes," I whispered, almost inaudibly, but I guess Bill understood anyway, since the pressure on my shoulder grew slightly firmer, and he finally said, almost as silently as I myself had spoken,
"We all do, Harry. Even though none of us is to blame, we all do."
We went to bed then, and it was for pure comfort and need of warmth, at least back then, that we no longer slept in our separate beds, but shared Bill's narrow bunk together.