Ron spat it out as though he'd rehearsed it, had perfected the ugliest way to say it. "You didn't even try to stop her, did you? What's one fewer Weasley when the Boy Who Lived could have a chance at defeating Voldemort all by himself?"
Harry shook his head. "I would have helped her if I could, if I'd known she'd be there. I told her to stay back."
"She wanted to help you. She would have done anything to help you."
"She couldn't have done anything," Harry said, exasperated. They'd had this fight a hundred times before her memorial service, could probably make each other's arguments. It just got worse, more divisive and more painful, with every repetition. "She would've been more help if she'd stayed back with the others. Dumbledore--the prophecy said that only I could--"
Ron laughed. His voice was tinged with disbelief. "We spent half our time at Hogwarts making up forecasts of doom for Trelawney, and you still believe in prophecies?"
"Dumbledore said--"
"Must've been the only time you ever listened to him."
"I thought it was all up to me," he said. He hadn't thought that anyone else could do it, had somehow believed all of the stories of his own power. "I didn't even see her coming."
"You never see anything but your own destiny." That was a new line, and not right at all. He hadn't seen Ginny because he hadn't been expecting her; he'd thought that he was alone with Voldemort, and hadn't wanted to divide his attention. He couldn't have afforded to divide his attention. He had gone after Voldemort alone because he'd thought he had to, not because he didn't want their help, not because he wanted to be a hero or wanted to get revenge. Did that mean that he couldn't see past his destiny?
Harry slumped down onto their sofa, put his head in his hands. Ron's mouth was set in a hard line. He glared at a point somewhere just above Harry's head. "You probably don't even see me; you just see some average wizard who follows you around. I was just in the way, too, wasn't I? I should've stayed back with the others."
"God, Ron." Harry looked back up at him. "No. You're--we wouldn't have been able to win without you. You're the one I've always been able to count on." I love you. Harry stood up. Ron stepped backwards almost imperceptibly. With a sigh, Harry sat back onto the couch. They stared at one another, waiting for someone to speak. The silence stretched.
Harry spoke first. "I--" He swallowed, then did stand up after all. He stepped towards Ron. "I do need you. I should have asked for your help. Should have asked for everyone's. I wouldn't have been able to find him without you." He circled Ron's waist, pulled him close. Ron stood tense, arms at his sides. "I'm sorry."
He pulled back, and Ron relaxed, just slightly.
"I thought," Ron started, hoarsely. He cleared his throat. "We thought that you were trying to--leave us. To take him with you. I didn't want to lose you. She just got there first."
It could have been you, Harry thought, and tried not to be glad that it was Ginny who was gone.
Harry shook his head. "I would have helped her if I could, if I'd known she'd be there. I told her to stay back."
"She wanted to help you. She would have done anything to help you."
"She couldn't have done anything," Harry said, exasperated. They'd had this fight a hundred times before her memorial service, could probably make each other's arguments. It just got worse, more divisive and more painful, with every repetition. "She would've been more help if she'd stayed back with the others. Dumbledore--the prophecy said that only I could--"
Ron laughed. His voice was tinged with disbelief. "We spent half our time at Hogwarts making up forecasts of doom for Trelawney, and you still believe in prophecies?"
"Dumbledore said--"
"Must've been the only time you ever listened to him."
"I thought it was all up to me," he said. He hadn't thought that anyone else could do it, had somehow believed all of the stories of his own power. "I didn't even see her coming."
"You never see anything but your own destiny." That was a new line, and not right at all. He hadn't seen Ginny because he hadn't been expecting her; he'd thought that he was alone with Voldemort, and hadn't wanted to divide his attention. He couldn't have afforded to divide his attention. He had gone after Voldemort alone because he'd thought he had to, not because he didn't want their help, not because he wanted to be a hero or wanted to get revenge. Did that mean that he couldn't see past his destiny?
Harry slumped down onto their sofa, put his head in his hands. Ron's mouth was set in a hard line. He glared at a point somewhere just above Harry's head. "You probably don't even see me; you just see some average wizard who follows you around. I was just in the way, too, wasn't I? I should've stayed back with the others."
"God, Ron." Harry looked back up at him. "No. You're--we wouldn't have been able to win without you. You're the one I've always been able to count on." I love you. Harry stood up. Ron stepped backwards almost imperceptibly. With a sigh, Harry sat back onto the couch. They stared at one another, waiting for someone to speak. The silence stretched.
Harry spoke first. "I--" He swallowed, then did stand up after all. He stepped towards Ron. "I do need you. I should have asked for your help. Should have asked for everyone's. I wouldn't have been able to find him without you." He circled Ron's waist, pulled him close. Ron stood tense, arms at his sides. "I'm sorry."
He pulled back, and Ron relaxed, just slightly.
"I thought," Ron started, hoarsely. He cleared his throat. "We thought that you were trying to--leave us. To take him with you. I didn't want to lose you. She just got there first."
It could have been you, Harry thought, and tried not to be glad that it was Ginny who was gone.