Disclaimer- not mine. Don't sue. Characters and all things familiar regarding HP belong to JK Rowling. Song lyrics belong to Mary Chapin Carpenter.

A/N- after a hiatus due to the horrific event that was my only and potentially last attempt at a real story I am back with a new one shot. This one is not a romance- a new thing for me. But I like it, even though it is really, really sad. And I hope you do too. Despite the sorrow, there's a real story of love and loss... Review please. PLEASE!

Only a Dream by onesouljoy18

I can recall the sound of the wind
As it blew through the trees and the trees would bend
I can recall the smell of the rain
On the hot summer night blowing through the screen

May- 1999

Ginny sat up from her desk in her den, the sound of the thunder taking her attention away from her present task. Like she so often found herself doing she looked back on her life and sighed. It was all there was that was left to do. She'd cried all her tears, and she was afraid she'd laughed her last laugh. Smiles were few and far between these days, and pain was too real to be dealt with. So these days she survived. It was the most she could do with the shattered pieces of her current situation. Well, their current situation, she supposed. The War wasn't just on her shoulders, although Merlin knew she felt like it was sometimes. Even if Voldemort was dead, there was still so much to do, and the fray of the War still weighed heavily on all of them. More often than not she found herself in Grimmauld Place writing out minutes for meetings of the Order, and just wishing things were back to the simplicity of youth.

Youth. What a funny thing it was, she found herself thinking, not for the first time since the War had really broken out. When you are young you can't wait to be a grown up, and once you finally are grown you spend your whole life wishing you were young again. The innocence and simplicity of life that comes with being six years old was something that Ginny always envied in all of her nieces and nephews. Bill and Fleur's kids especially. Four was a good age to be, Ginny decided. Giselle, the youngest of Bill and Fleur's brood and McCail, the youngest boy, reminded Ginny of herself and Ron growing up.

Ginny sighed again. Ron. There was a subject that just about broke her heart every time she thought about him. Ever the hero in his own way, but that wasn't how he'd seen it. He'd almost regarded his relationship with Harry in the way some girls regard their relationships with close friends: "Always the bridesmaid never the bride," except for Ron it was "Always the best friend, never the Hero." What he never realized was that to her he was so much more than Harry could ever be. He was her Brother. That automatically made him a Hero in her eyes. It always had.

I'd crawl into bed when the lightning flashed
And I'd still be there when the storm had passed
Dead to the world till the morning cast
Its light all around your room

Summer- 1986

Ginny ran up the stairs of their two story house. It was a little cramped- alright extremely packed- but it was home. And right now she knew exactly where she needed to be: Third door on the left, past the bathroom and her bedroom. CRACK the thunder rang out through the mostly empty house. The emptiness was a rare occasion considering how many siblings the five year old girl had. But they were all out shopping, and the storm had delayed their return. It didn't help her already frightened state of frenzy. Storms always had scared her and she never knew why. But she knew, like he always did, Ron would help her.

"ROOOOOONNNN!!!!" she cried at the top of her lungs, and she lunged herself through the door of his room. "Help! Please!" She had barely gotten the plea out before lightning lit up the dark room and she could see him sprawled out on his bed, the top bunk of the set of bunk beds on the left side of the room, peaceably sleeping through the storm.

He rolled over, looked at her, rolled his eyes, and grabbed her arms to pull her up into his bed. She got under the covers just in time to cover her head before the next time the thunder cried out to the lightning across the sky. When she awoke the next morning she was alone in the bed, but that was okay. She knew Ron had stayed with her till the storm had ended, and then had gone over to her bed, so that he could get a decent night's sleep away from her kicking.

The sun was shining out, and as she trekked over to her room it also was empty, but her bed unmade. She made her way downstairs and Ron was there, at the kitchen table, with her favorite muffins waiting for her for breakfast- cranberry orange. She grinned her thanks across the table at him, and he just smiled back, full of understanding, and went back upstairs to go back to sleep. As he passed her he tousled her hair, and said to her, "I'm here, for storms and bad dreams."

We lived on the street where the tall elm shade
Was as green as the grass and as cool as the blade
That you held in your teeth as we lay on our backs
Staring up at the blue with the blue staring back.
I used to believe we were just like those trees
We'd grow just as tall and as proud as we pleased
With our feet on the ground and our arms in the breeze
Under a sheltering sky.

September – 1989

"When can I go to Hogwarts? I wanna GO!" a very red faced, red haired, unhappy Ron cried to his mother. Actually screamed at her was a far more accurate description of the situation. His mother's own red hair was frizzy and her clothes tattered, her disposition slowly going from patient to frustrated and a bit angry.

"Ronald. If I have told you once I have told you a million times. In two years, you may go to Hogwarts. But if you don't stop this misbehaving I'll owl Dumbledore himself and tell him NOT to send you a letter. Do you hear me?!" she snapped at her son. As if it wasn't hard enough watching the Twins go to school. She knew they were destined for trouble; they could barely be kept in line at home. Away from her strong hand they were undoubtedly going to cause quite a raucous. She was brought back to peace, however, when her youngest child and only daughter tugged on Ron's jumper and said quietly, "Ron, don't you want to stay with me?"

Even a jealous Ron in a temper could not deny those big green eyes staring up at him. Her eyes said everything that he needed to know- that he was wanted, and important. Even if it was just to his sister, his existence was worthwhile. He didn't need to be a great wizard at Hogwarts to be important to her. He was important just because he was spending time with her. In that small moment things were brought back to normal, and Ginny was beaming while Ron tried to make her laugh by tickling her.

He could do no wrong in her eyes. They fought- oh did they fight. And she won most of the time, quite fair and square thank you very much. She could argue her way into or out of anything she wanted to. But when they were getting along they were the best of friends. They'd play outside and he'd take her hands and they'd spin in a circle until she was up in the air, her body parallel to the ground below. She'd always been small for her age, he always tall for his, so it was no feat of strength to pull her up and around like that. And oh how she'd laugh, and it would just about fill his world. Then they'd collapse on the ground and try to catch their breath as they lay staring up at the sky and deciding what the clouds looked like.

Then she'd look at him and say,

"You're the best Brother ever, Ron. I like you the best."

And he'd grin and give the mandatory reply of,

"And you're the best sister I have. I like you best, too Gin-bug."

To which, of course, she would giggle hysterically and say, "Ron! You silly! I'm you're ONLY sister!"

"That makes you the best one there is then, doesn't it?"

And there was no arguing with that kind of logic.

Twirl me about and twirl me around
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground
And when I look up at you looking down,
You'd say "it was only a dream"

June- 1997

A big truck was parked in the drive one day
They wrapped us in paper and moved us away
Your room was no longer next door to mine
And this kid sister thing was old by that time
And oh how our dreams went bump in the night
And the voices downstairs getting into a fight
And the next day a silence you could cut with a knife
And feel like a blade at your throat.

The War had come. Finally. They had all been expecting it. Ginny so young, just 16, her brother Ron and his friends Hermione and Harry just 17. Harry. That poor kid, she thought. His destiny never gave him a chance to be anything but a full grown adult from the time he was born into the world. They'd moved out of the Burrow by that time, all into Grimmauld Place. It was tight, but no tighter than their old house in Surrey had been when she was young. Two stories for nine people. Four bedrooms, her parents having their own and she having her own. Two rooms for six boys. Ridiculous. But it had been good. Of course now that they were all living in Grimmauld Place it was impossible to get away from the sounds of the Order. When someone came in wounded everyone in the house knew it. Snape came in wounded more often than not, and ironically it had always been Hermione who had cared for him here. Ginny was willing to bet that Snape and Hermione were an item behind everyone else's back. Or at least they had unmentionable feelings about each other.

But that was the only shred of a joyful thought that there happened to be in this house. More often than not it was arguing and high tension. People unable to contain their fear, so they screamed at each other. For poor Harry it was an almost unbearable reminder of everything he'd lost, from his parents to his Godfather, to his childhood. Every time he was the one who exploded there was a deadly silence, and then Ron would take him outside and they'd go practice for the upcoming Quidditch season. It was the expected course of action to be taken, since none of them really knew quite what to do with Harry. There was no way to help him through his grief, for no one really understood it. It was a wound that ran deeper than he ever showed anyone except for Ron.

Nowadays, though, there was no Quidditch season to look forward to. Only the War and another day's planning of strategy and battle plans that would only last through the first stand. And Ron would follow Harry to the grave if he had to, and if it meant he would get a shred of attention. For all that those two were best friends, Ginny had known Ron longer, and she knew her brother was jealous of all of the attention Harry got. She knew that he'd thought that Hogwarts would be his big break, that people would notice him and think of him not as a Weasley, but as Ron. And now they didn't think of him as a Weasley, but he wasn't Ron, either. He was "Ron, Harry's friend" or sometimes just "Potter's best friend." Ginny could see the slow tearing that this was making at his heart. She just hoped it wouldn't cause him to do anything rash. He was still her Hero and best friend, even if she wasn't his, and even if He couldn't see her adoration of him in her eyes anymore- it was still there, he'd just become blind. Or distracted. She didn't know anymore. All she knew was that she missed her Brother. And this was just one more thing that she found herself wishing was only a dream...

Return to May – 1999

The day you left home you got an early start
I watched the car back out in the dark
I opened the door to your room down the hall
I turned on the light and all that I saw
Was a bed and desk and a couple of tacks.
No sign of someone who expects to be back.
That must have been one hell of a suitcase you packed.

Ginny didn't realize she'd been crying. She'd thought all of her tears had been shed. Her black dress was slowly streaking with tears that flowed from her face, despite her attempt to maintain composure. She was not the only one in pain, who was she to cry anymore? She heard the door open and chose to actively ignore whoever it was that had decided to invade on her privacy. This was her suite of rooms now, and everyone knew it, even Hermione who "shared" them with her. Ha. That was a joke. Now that she and Snape were engaged (the thought still made her squirm sometimes, but overall they were perfect for each other) Hermione spent most of her time in his rooms. Ginny tended to spend most of her time alone. In these rooms which had been so empty this last month. She'd renovated and remodeled, and filled them with things that were hers, but it still would never be the same. It hadn't been since the car had pulled out of the driveway two weeks ago. It was unnerving for most of the people residing in Grimmauld Place to see the girl they had known to be so cheerful and uplifting to become such a sad, heartbroken, shattered bit of a woman. And she was every inch of a woman now, even at barely 18 years old.

"Ginny," a deep voice whispered from behind her, and she jumped, even though she had just hear him enter the room. "I am so sorry. I miss him, too."

She turned then, and looked up at the green eyes that were as haunted as hers were. He sat down on the floor next to her, and opened his arms to her. She leaned into his embrace and finally let all her tears go. She knew that he felt her pain, and knew the loss that she held inside of herself, down to her soul. Harry, of all people, understood loss. The loss of family. The loss of friends. But most of all he understood the loss of Ron. They clung to each other as if for dear life, because they were two without anyone else to support them, unless they chose to support each other. After what seemed like hours, but was really only maybe five minutes of crying she looked up into his eyes. They seemed slightly less haunted. She hoped hers did too.

"It's time," he whispered. She nodded. "Will you be okay to do this?"

"I don't know. But I have to," was her response, choked with tears and emotion.

They arrived at the burial site five minutes before the actual funeral. When it was her time she stepped up to the coffin, laid her rose on it and said these words:

"Ron Weasley was my Brother. But he was so much more than that. He was my best friend, he was my confidante." She had to stop to take a deep breath. "He was always in the background but that made him no less important to me than someone like Harry ever was. In some ways it made him more important to me. Ron was never the most noticeable person, but he was always the most reliable. His temper often got a strong hold on him, but it was just because he wanted what was best for those he loved. And Merlin, did he love us. Enough to die for us. Enough to lose his own life to save Harry's, and in turn save all of ours.

"That's why we're here. Not just to weep for the loss of a sibling, or a friend. But to remember a life that could not be duplicated, and never will be replaced. To remember the life of someone who was just as selfless the day he died as he was all through his life. He was my Brother, but he was my Hero, too. He always had been, and even now I wish I had told him. He always was my Hero. And he always will be."

The silence could be cut with a knife as Ginny stepped down, and then the pallbearers each tossed some dirt onto the lowered coffin, to signify the true end of a wonderful man's life. Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she cried some more. For her youth, for her life, but mostly for her Brother, knowing that she'd always remember the times they'd had together, and that he'd be with her always. Her Hero.

Twirl me about and twirl me around
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground
And when I look up at you looking down,
You'd say "It was only a dream"