Things you love but did not get.
And all the times you've been upset by,
unfulfilled dreams and visions,
and the guilt for your wrong decisions.

August 26th 1AM Friday

I was six years old and staring out the window of my bedroom. I couldn't help but stare in curiosity as the small, brown haired boy next door played happily in his backyard. He would swing for awhile and then play in his sandbox. He always played alone, just like me. Maybe that's what drew me to the window everyday, the idea that there was another child who was just like me.

The family had moved into the house next door two weeks ago and Daddy had been on edge ever since then. Of course he tried to act as if nothing bothered him but I noticed how nervous he became as he watched the family move about their yard during the day. He seemed to be trying to avoid them as much as possible, while I, on the other hand, did my best to try and meet them ever since I saw the little boy playing in the backyard for the first time.

A smile lit up my face as he laughed to himself. He was building a sandcastle in the little wooden sandbox. How I wished I could help him build that sandcastle. Suddenly a plan formed in my mind and I left the window in search of my father. I found him downstairs in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches for us as it was nearly time for lunch.

"What's wrong hun?" he asked with concern as I schooled my expression into one of sadness, a small pout playing on my lips.

"Daddy," I replied hesitantly, "do you think…I was wondering…"

"Just ask baby," he said as he finished the sandwiches.

"I want to play with the little boy next door," I blurted out, "Can I please?" Daddy's hands stopped in mid movement as he was placing the sandwiches on the two plates sitting in front of him. He stared at me for a moment and I made sure to look as miserable as possible.

"Jen hun," he answered softly, "I don't know if that's a good idea. We don't even know them."

"But Daddy," I whined pitifully, "I don't want to play by myself anymore. Please…" Daddy sighed in resignation and carried the two plates over to the kitchen table.

"Sit and eat lunch," he said firmly, "and then we'll go next door and see if you can't play there for a little while."

"Thank you Daddy!" I exclaimed happily as I ran over and gave him a hug.

"Yes, yes," he said with a half smile, "I have some…things to do this afternoon anyway so perhaps it will work out for the best."

I couldn't help but bounce in my chair excitedly as I quickly ate my ham sandwich. Finally I was going to be able to play with someone other than Daddy. At last I'd be able to play with someone my own age.

After we finished our lunch Daddy sent me off to the bathroom to wash up while he changed his clothes. He had been painting and the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing were covered in stains. Once we were both ready we left the house and walked next door. Daddy rang the doorbell and we both stood there waiting. I was rocking back and forth with eagerness while Daddy stood tall and still like a stone statue.

"May I help you?" a woman's voice called out as the door opened. The woman looked at as both with a somewhat wary, but overall friendly smile. She had short brown hair and kind brown eyes.

"Hello," Daddy replied hesitantly, "My name is James Riddle and I live next door." The woman's eyes lit up slightly and she offered a hand to my father. He shook it slowly as she introduced herself.

"Debra Bones," she said kindly, "My husband and I just moved here from Canada. It's so nice to finally meet someone in the neighborhood. We lived in such a small town before and this place seems so big. Darn it, I'm rambling," she said with a blush, "Would you like to come in?" Daddy seemed surprised for a moment.

"Thank you Mrs. Bones, but…"

"Please call me Debbie," she interrupted.

"Thank you Debbie," Daddy said nervously, "but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush. This is going to sound horrible seeing as we just met but I noticed you have a young son and I was wondering if you could possibly watch my daughter Jenny while I run some errands. I should only be gone for a few hours."

"No problem," Debbie answered with a chuckle, "Lucas would love to have someone to play with and Jenny doesn't look as if she'd give anyone much trouble." I did my best to look as innocent and sweet as possible as Debbie looked down at me. "Why don't you come with me and I'll introduce you to Lucas?" she said as she held out her hand. I took her hand and glanced back at my father.

"Be good Jenny," he said, "and thank you so much Debbie for doing this. It's very kind of you." Debbie just waved a hand at him.

"Don't worry about a thing," she said as she began to close the door. I gave Daddy a quick wave before Debbie pulled me through the house to the backyard.

"Lucas," she called out and the little boy playing in the sand looked over at us, "I have someone for you to meet." Lucas eyed me suspiciously before standing up and brushing off his pants. "Jenny, this is my son Lucas. Lucas, this is Jenny, she lives next door." Lucas' hand shot out in front of him and I tentatively reached out to grasp it with my own. He gave it a firm shake but didn't let go. Instead he pulled me towards the sandbox as Debbie turned and went back into the house.

"Come on," he said with a smile, "you can help me with my sandcastles."

My head was swimming as I woke with a start. Tears sprang up in my eyes without any warning and I covered my face with my hands as I sobbed quietly to myself. Finally the tears subsided and I wiped away the last remnants of my breakdown on one arm of my pajamas.

"Lucas," I whispered into the darkness of the bedroom. What had brought on the dream? It had been years since I had even thought about the boy and my stomach clenched at the bittersweet memories that flooded my mind.

I laid there staring at the ceiling for quite some time before I decided that it would be impossible to get back to sleep. Insomnia had always been my father's problem but now it seems as if I was falling into the same trap of sleeplessness. Suddenly I heard faint sounds coming from downstairs and I was slightly comforted by the fact that someone else was having the same problem I was.

The noise became louder as I headed downstairs toward the kitchen. I could hear cups rattling against one another and there was a faint smell of mint in the air. A groan escaped me as I realized what the smell was.

"What is it with you people and tea?" I asked softly as I pushed open the kitchen door. Ginny was startled for a moment before she turned around and gave me a quick smile. She continued to busy herself in the kitchen while I plopped down onto a chair.

"I don't know," she said as she sat down across from me, "What is it with Americans and hamburgers?"

"We don't all like hamburgers," I growled. Ginny chuckled softly and poured a cup of tea for each of us. I took the cup she offered me with little protest. After taking a sip I realized that it did have a calming effect, not that I would admit that to anyone anytime soon. "So, what are you doing up?" I asked.

"Nightmares," she answered blandly, "Same for you?"

"Not quite," I replied with a frown, "Bittersweet dreams." A look of understanding crossed her features.

"I know all about those," she said.

"I suppose you do," I replied. We sat in silence for a long time. There was water dripping in the kitchen sink. An owl was hooting somewhere in the distance. The clock chimed three times.

"Tell me something about yourself," I said as I poured myself another cup of tea. It was no longer hot or even warm but neither of us mentioned it.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"Anything," I replied, "I'm sick of talking about myself or my father. I want to get lost in someone else's life for awhile."

"That's understandable," she said with a nod. "There's not much to tell," she began, "I graduated from Hogwarts with average marks. I began helping my brothers at their shop after graduation which my mum wasn't too happy about."

"I can imagine," I interrupted with a laugh.

"Yes, well, I didn't have a real interest in anything else," she continued, "I got married four years out of school and was divorced two years after that."

"I'm sorry," I said sadly.

"No reason to be," she replied with a tight smile, "I was young and stupid back then. I suppose that doesn't excuse me from my two other failed marriages but I'm sure I can think of something." I didn't know what to say to that. I was shocked to hear that she had even been married once, but three times?

"May I ask what happened?" I questioned, and then added quickly, "If you're comfortable with talking about it that is."

"Well," she began, "the first time was immaturity. The second time was loneliness and the third time was obligation."

"Obligation?"

"Yes," she replied, "We had a child together, a little girl actually. I became pregnant before we were married and when he found out that I was pregnant he proposed immediately. He thought it was his duty since I was having his child. I could've cared less about it. I wasn't afraid of raising the child by myself. I knew I had family to fall back on if I needed them." I nodded my head in understanding and urged her to continue.

"I gave birth to my little Deidre six months into our marriage. She wasn't born healthy though, there was something wrong with her heart. We took her to St. Mungo's and the healers told us there was nothing that could be done. We didn't believe them though and we took her to every hospital we could think of, muggle or magical, but they all said the same thing. She died just after her first birthday. After she was gone there was nothing to keep us together anymore."

"I'm so sorry," I said as I reached across the table to hold Ginny's hands in my own.

"I got over it," she replied, "Deidre's death was the hardest to get past, the marriages meant nothing to begin with so don't be sorry about those because I'm sure not."

"But if they meant nothing…"

"Then why did I marry them in the first place?" she asked and I nodded my head slightly. "I was looking for someone to fill an empty place in my heart," she said with a sigh, "it just took me a long time to figure out that there was only one person that could fill that hole." She took out her wand and waved it lazily at the teapot. Almost instantly steam began to rise from the spout and she poured the reheated tea into each of our cups without looking up at me once.

"It always comes back to him doesn't it," I said as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"What do you expect?" Ginny said quizzically, "He saved the world; it would only make sense that everything would begin and end with him."

"I suppose it would," I replied softly. Ginny and I sat there at the table and sipped our tea in silence once again. The kitchen faucet was still dripping rhythmically. An owl was still hooting somewhere off in the distance although it sounded as if another one had joined it. The Weasleys' clock chimed four times.

"He had a hand on the clock once," Ginny's voice broke the silence, "Did you know?"

"No," I replied, "What happened to it?"

"Dad took it off during my sixth year," she said sadly, "Mum had a fit each time it said he was dead or dying. After the tenth time Dad finally got fed up and removed it."

I eyed the clock and thought about what Ginny had said. The clock seemed to be quite accurate at giving a general overview of a person's situation. If the Weasleys had created a hand for Harry Potter then that would mean…

"O my God!" I exclaimed as I jumped up from my chair. Ginny jumped away from me in response and she appeared to be afraid as I ran around the table towards her. I grabbed her shoulders roughly. "Ginny, do you know where that hand is?!"