Summery: "The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It's really hard to believe, isn't it?" It's the final part to My "Choose Her" universe. Ron's POV. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the associated characters. We all know the drill. Rating: PG Ships: Implied RW/HG and implied RW/HP Warnings: Implied slash. Nothing major. Author Note: Thank you to all the people who have read and reviewed the preceding fics to this: "Choose Her" and "Why Him?" Your all listed after the fic. Also I am going to include a sneak preview of another fic I'm working on. If you haven't read those, please read them now or this won't make sense. Love to you all. R&R Indigo Ink.
The crates fill up the seemingly cleared out half of the flat. I always thought you were supposed to have more space when you moved things out, not less. But we always had to be the exception to the rule. We managed to escape the clutches of expulsion and death time and time again.
I guess we won't be doing that anymore.
I thought we'd be together through the Grown-up years then well into old- people-dom. I wish you were here just now, helping me or even just sitting and talking to me. But you can't be here.
I shake myself slightly. This needs to be done. Hermione said she'd be round to help later. I wish I could have some tea but only you can make it how I like it.
"Ron," I look around to see my little sister struggling with a particularly heavy box, "Little help here please."
"Sorry, Gin." I lift it from her arms place it on the top of another. It really is heavy, just like my heart. You could always cheer me up, with a cup of tea, a cheery smile or a comforting hug. I guess none of that will happen anymore. I won't see you anymore to have any of these things.
Ginny's looking at me in a funny way; sort of half worry, half confusion.
"I'm fine Ginny."
"No Ron," She looks at me with her big chocolate brown eyes, so different from my own blue, then wraps her small arms around my broad shoulders as best she can. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to tell me things, you know. Worries, funny stories, anything."
I can't tell her though. She doesn't know just how strongly I feel for you. She never will and you won't either. "I know Gin-Gin. I know."
She steps back and smiles slightly. "I know there's still more to pack, but Neville's waiting for me and-"
"No problem," She's giving me that look, the puppy-dog one that I can't resist no matter what. You know the one, she' used it on you too so don't pretend you don't.
She nod, then, after a moments hesitation, she leans up and kisses me on the cheek, "You made the right decision Ron. It may not seem like it now, but you did."
I can't even nod so I just look at the ground. It was so hard to decide at first but I guess you and Hermione really made the decision for me.
"I need to keep packing. The movers are coming to put some stuff into storage for me soon."
"Little to the right Ron. No, more. Little more, more, litt- STOP!"
"Harry, just take the bloody picture!" "Okay, okay! Sheesh, hold your horses."
"Sorry. It's ju-" CLICK!
"HARRY!"
Your laughter rang through the air. You hadn't laughed in such a long time, not since before Hermione and I started going out. You still look bad from the Flying Incident but at least we managed to patch things up. It's really hard to stay mad at you when you laugh like that.
Your eyes sparkled with mirth and your messy black hair was blowing everywhere in the breeze.
"Sorry Ron. I'll try again. It's just the new 'Polaroid' effect that's getting me." I had, and still have, no clue as to what a 'Polaroid' is, so I just shook my head and smiled.
"I have a better idea Harry."
You raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It's really hard to believe, isn't it? Our arms are around the other's shoulders and we're both flashing our cheesy grins to the camera. Occasionally, you'll stick your tongue out at me as I look at us. But when other people come and look, you tend to shy away and my photo-self has to drag you back in, not always successfully.
You never liked attention, even less after you go knocked from your broom. Malfoy just wouldn't leave you alone, the git, even though you caught the Snitch while he was still busy trying to get back on his own broom. I wish I'd paid a bit more attention back then, maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had to make the choice. I wouldn't be the Breaker of Hearts and I certainly wouldn't be packing this stuff away now.
Our photo-selves are sticking their tongues out and crossing their eyes. Were we ever that bad? I know photos are supposed to capture people's personalities but we were never THAT bad. Please tell me we weren't that bad!
A timid knock alerts me to Hermione's presence but I don't look up from our photo.
"Hey Ron," She sounds worried and sympathetic. She knows this is hard for me and she's letting me take my time with packing. "You need any help?"
I look into her eyes and I know she just wants something to keep me, and her I suppose, busy. It's hard for her too. She doesn't like seeing me hurt or in pain. She doesn't like seeing you hurt either. Even if it didn't seem like it at first.
I nod and she starts to lift some of the lighter boxes to see if anything else can go in them. I don't let go of the photograph.
I pick up the latest addition to your collection of scripts and flick through the pages. Your talent for writing never ceases to amaze me. You can capture emotions in carefully chosen words and phrases and I think that's because you write what you feel. Lately, your work has been full of sorrow and pain but with an underlying love that shines through in the characters' dialogue and movements.
The punching and kicking didn't stop. You just kept getting weaker and your stupid stubbornness didn't allow you to turn to the police or the University Dean. That's what caused the pain in your writing.
A gentle hand on my shoulder makes me jump.
"The movers are here Ron."
"Okay."
I put the script down into the box in front of me and then tape the lid shut. I look at the picture again and our teensleves are just smiling at each other now. I put the picture back on the coffee table. I can always see it when I come back.
My family has the worst sense of timing in the world. Myself included, but not when it comes to you. Three months ago, when I announced to my family and friends that I wanted to be with you, I did it just in time. It didn't save you but you'll always be here, because I love you.
I love you. You loved me. And the world knew it. Even though you're gone, I'll always, for all eternity and forever, love you.
My name is Ron Weasley, and I have to say: I was loved.
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READS AND REVIEWS THIS CHAPTER.
And a big thanks to Cass of the Netherworlds, whose review inspired me to
fix the chapter.
The crates fill up the seemingly cleared out half of the flat. I always thought you were supposed to have more space when you moved things out, not less. But we always had to be the exception to the rule. We managed to escape the clutches of expulsion and death time and time again.
I guess we won't be doing that anymore.
I thought we'd be together through the Grown-up years then well into old- people-dom. I wish you were here just now, helping me or even just sitting and talking to me. But you can't be here.
I shake myself slightly. This needs to be done. Hermione said she'd be round to help later. I wish I could have some tea but only you can make it how I like it.
"Ron," I look around to see my little sister struggling with a particularly heavy box, "Little help here please."
"Sorry, Gin." I lift it from her arms place it on the top of another. It really is heavy, just like my heart. You could always cheer me up, with a cup of tea, a cheery smile or a comforting hug. I guess none of that will happen anymore. I won't see you anymore to have any of these things.
Ginny's looking at me in a funny way; sort of half worry, half confusion.
"I'm fine Ginny."
"No Ron," She looks at me with her big chocolate brown eyes, so different from my own blue, then wraps her small arms around my broad shoulders as best she can. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to tell me things, you know. Worries, funny stories, anything."
I can't tell her though. She doesn't know just how strongly I feel for you. She never will and you won't either. "I know Gin-Gin. I know."
She steps back and smiles slightly. "I know there's still more to pack, but Neville's waiting for me and-"
"No problem," She's giving me that look, the puppy-dog one that I can't resist no matter what. You know the one, she' used it on you too so don't pretend you don't.
She nod, then, after a moments hesitation, she leans up and kisses me on the cheek, "You made the right decision Ron. It may not seem like it now, but you did."
I can't even nod so I just look at the ground. It was so hard to decide at first but I guess you and Hermione really made the decision for me.
"I need to keep packing. The movers are coming to put some stuff into storage for me soon."
"Little to the right Ron. No, more. Little more, more, litt- STOP!"
"Harry, just take the bloody picture!" "Okay, okay! Sheesh, hold your horses."
"Sorry. It's ju-" CLICK!
"HARRY!"
Your laughter rang through the air. You hadn't laughed in such a long time, not since before Hermione and I started going out. You still look bad from the Flying Incident but at least we managed to patch things up. It's really hard to stay mad at you when you laugh like that.
Your eyes sparkled with mirth and your messy black hair was blowing everywhere in the breeze.
"Sorry Ron. I'll try again. It's just the new 'Polaroid' effect that's getting me." I had, and still have, no clue as to what a 'Polaroid' is, so I just shook my head and smiled.
"I have a better idea Harry."
You raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It's really hard to believe, isn't it? Our arms are around the other's shoulders and we're both flashing our cheesy grins to the camera. Occasionally, you'll stick your tongue out at me as I look at us. But when other people come and look, you tend to shy away and my photo-self has to drag you back in, not always successfully.
You never liked attention, even less after you go knocked from your broom. Malfoy just wouldn't leave you alone, the git, even though you caught the Snitch while he was still busy trying to get back on his own broom. I wish I'd paid a bit more attention back then, maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had to make the choice. I wouldn't be the Breaker of Hearts and I certainly wouldn't be packing this stuff away now.
Our photo-selves are sticking their tongues out and crossing their eyes. Were we ever that bad? I know photos are supposed to capture people's personalities but we were never THAT bad. Please tell me we weren't that bad!
A timid knock alerts me to Hermione's presence but I don't look up from our photo.
"Hey Ron," She sounds worried and sympathetic. She knows this is hard for me and she's letting me take my time with packing. "You need any help?"
I look into her eyes and I know she just wants something to keep me, and her I suppose, busy. It's hard for her too. She doesn't like seeing me hurt or in pain. She doesn't like seeing you hurt either. Even if it didn't seem like it at first.
I nod and she starts to lift some of the lighter boxes to see if anything else can go in them. I don't let go of the photograph.
I pick up the latest addition to your collection of scripts and flick through the pages. Your talent for writing never ceases to amaze me. You can capture emotions in carefully chosen words and phrases and I think that's because you write what you feel. Lately, your work has been full of sorrow and pain but with an underlying love that shines through in the characters' dialogue and movements.
The punching and kicking didn't stop. You just kept getting weaker and your stupid stubbornness didn't allow you to turn to the police or the University Dean. That's what caused the pain in your writing.
A gentle hand on my shoulder makes me jump.
"The movers are here Ron."
"Okay."
I put the script down into the box in front of me and then tape the lid shut. I look at the picture again and our teensleves are just smiling at each other now. I put the picture back on the coffee table. I can always see it when I come back.
My family has the worst sense of timing in the world. Myself included, but not when it comes to you. Three months ago, when I announced to my family and friends that I wanted to be with you, I did it just in time. It didn't save you but you'll always be here, because I love you.
I love you. You loved me. And the world knew it. Even though you're gone, I'll always, for all eternity and forever, love you.
My name is Ron Weasley, and I have to say: I was loved.
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READS AND REVIEWS THIS CHAPTER.
And a big thanks to Cass of the Netherworlds, whose review inspired me to
fix the chapter.