Title: Harvesters

Author: Emmylou

Summary: Grief is a selfish emotion, and when Harry and Ron become desperate for the things that meant so much to Hermione, will these things give them comfort or rip them further apart?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, the characters, creations, and settings are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and other associated trademarks. This is a fictional piece created solely in respect of the original work with no infringement intended, nor any profit being made.

Harry went to sleep that night after perusing through the photographs once more and running his hands over the cardigan. It smelt of Ginny, but it was Hermione's…it had been hers.

The doorbell rang early in the morning and he opened it, blinking in the light and quite shocked to see that the slush from yesterday had melted totally and had made the ground muddy and wet.

"Awful isn't it?" said Ginny "Christmas over and no snow left."

"Hi Ginny," said Harry, wrapping his dressing gown tightly around himself in the cold.

"Sorry to drop by so early," she said, "it's just I've been meaning to drop by- I think I left my cardigan here on Christmas Eve. Have you seen it?"

"Er," said Harry. "I've not been in much…I'll have a look though-"

"Well I'm here now," said Ginny cheerfully. "Ill just nip in and check if you don't mind."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say, but moved aside to let her in.

"I'm sure it was on the couch," said Ginny. "I'll bet it's fallen behind some cushions or something."

She began rooting around, pulling two Galleons, a melted Chocolate Frog, and other bits from behind cushions as she did so.

"Doesn't look like it's here," she said with disappointment.

"Sorry," said Harry. How would it look if he explained it was in the bedroom? No, he would just give it to her with the box and explain that he found them both-

"Oh and I had good news for you as well," said Ginny. She clapped her hand to her head as if stunned she had forgotten. "I nipped into work today, you know, to check everything's ticking okay, and I spoke with my boss and he said that as Madam Grissel left to go live with her sister in Australia, he'd be glad to take you on at three-thousand eight-hundred Galleons a year with a possible rise after two years."

"What, without an interview?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," she said. "Well…you're famous Harry Potter aren't you. You hardly need an interview to prove you can hex criminals."

Harry made them another cup of tea and they talked for a while, he nearly forgot that he was still in his pyjamas.

"How's Ron?" asked Harry.

"He's still upset about loosing the house…I hope he's not done anything stupid at work."

"He's probably off on a date," said Harry bitterly.

"You heard about this Janie girl too?" she said. "She's been after Ron for ages. I think Hermione's death has just confused him…he feels miserable and there's a pretty girl who wants to go out with him."

"She isn't that pretty," said Harry. "And he's just trying to replace her. He can't have the pictures and so he's going for the first thing that reminds him of Hermione!"

"I think it's like love," said Ginny thoughtfully.

"It's not love!" blustered Harry.

"With this Janie girl? No. But what Ron's going through is like love." She sat up straighter, clearly trying to decide how to phrase her point. "Look…that first summer after you came to stay with us…you'd been writing book plates for your books in the living room and when you got up you left one behind. I found it and Merlin if I didn't keep hold of it for months…I must have looked at it ten times a day. 'This book belongs to Harry Potter'. I knew you'd never go out with me then…but having that little part of you made it bearable. I think being able to look at those pictures, being able to have a little bit of Hermione, made it bearable for Ron."

She shrugged as if to say 'just an idea'.

Harry was still too angry at Ron. So what if he'd borrowed those pictures or lied about them or hidden the cardigan? He'd never try and replace Hermione with some annoying bank teller!

"I'm confused and upset too," he ranted. "And I'm not leaping on the first girl who reminds me of Hermione!"

"Your relationship with Hermione was different," said Ginny gently. "She was a close friend…but Ron…well we all knew he fancied her and she kind of liked him and they'll never be able to resolve that now. You want a friend back, you want to know things about her you never asked. Ron needs someone who fills a different role, that's all."

"So!" snapped Harry. "If you went out and were hit by the Knight Bus I wouldn't go and snog Susan Bones because she's got red hair and a sense of humour!"

"I-" Ginny seemed at a loss for how continue. "Look, this isn't the time. Everything's up in the air now and I'm just going to go…can I use your bathroom first?"

"Through the bedroom," Harry muttered.

Ginny nodded in thanks and walked that way, still looking extremely shocked.

Harry stood still, head bowed, one hand on his neck in frustration with himself. Why had he said that? And what had Ginny done to deserve it?

There was a gentle thud from the bedroom, Harry stiffened and walked through to investigate.

"Ginny?"

He found her kneeling on the floor, rooting through a washing basket she had lifted down from the dresser.

"I saw this," she explained. "I thought you might have dumped the cardigan in here by accident…it's worth a look right?"

"I didn't," said Harry firmly.

"No…it doesn't look like it," said Ginny, poking through the basket. "Where do young men store washed clothes…hmm…" she peered around and spotted the unmade bed. "Well…if you're anything like Ron you'll have kicked most of it under the bed."

She crawled towards the bed and peered underneath.

"Hang on!" said Harry, realising that he had stashed both the box of pictures and the cardigan on the other side.

"Wait, I think I see it!" said Ginny. She stretched and triumphantly pulled the cardigan towards her. Unfortunately it dragged the box of pictures along with it and within seconds she had it in her hands.

"Harry? What's this?"

She didn't need to ask of course, the box had Hermione's neat label in plain sight. As if desperate to prove her suspicions wrong, she lifted the lid and sagged upon seeing it full. She lifted a bundle of photographs out, flipping through them with a set face.

"You didn't just find these did you?" she said softly.

Harry felt sick. "No," he said.

"I can't believe this," she said, still quietly and with great sadness. "You wouldn't…would you? The pictures…the cardigan…you knew where they were the whole time."

"I was going to give them back," said Harry quickly. "I just needed-"

"Hedwig didn't loose them, did she?"

"No."

Ginny pulled herself to her feet, still clutching the pictures and the cardigan and walked into the living room, not even looking at him as she passed.

"Ginny, let me explain," he begged, dashing leaping into action suddenly as though frightened she might try to dissaparate there and then.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't need…"

"You do…I have to- I want to explain."

"You lied, Harry," she said. "My whole life I thought- I knew- you were honourable and that you always did the right thing no matter what it cost you. But stealing the last pictures we'd ever get of Hermione? Hiding her clothes away? What else have you taken of hers and hidden away? What else have you been lying about!"

Harry stared at the floor.

"Tell me!"

Harry opened his mouth, unable to look at her. "Janie-"

"Janie?" echoed Ginny. "What about her…? You barely know her."

Harry stared miserably at the floor. "The- the house."

Ginny frowned in confusion. Then…"You!" she breathed. Her face became stormy. "You…you, you bought the house? You bought it to keep, you lied to Ron, and me, and everyone."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, his voice breaking in desperation.

"No you're not! You're sorry you were found out!"

"I was going to tell you," he said again. "I was…I just needed time."

Ginny couldn't keep her temper any longer. "No you weren't! You were going to tell us more lies. 'Oh look…I found your cardigan, oh look…I found the pictures.' What next? 'Oh look I found the deeds to Hermione's house!"'

"It wasn't going to be like that…I had reasons."

"Selfish ones!"

"Maybe they were," yelled Harry. "But she was my friend and maybe…just maybe…I wasn't thinking straight! So what if I didn't do the right thing! I can't be honourable and perfect all of the time! I'm not…no one is. So maybe I just messed up okay!"

"You didn't just mess up," shouted Ginny. "You lied and lied until you were found out. You lied to me, and Ron, probably even to yourself."

"I'm sorry!"

"Drop dead," snapped Ginny. "Now I'm taking these to the people who deserve to have them – Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

"What about poor, deluded Ron?" said Harry icily.

"You're as bad as each other!" she shouted. "You're acting as though having her pictures or clothes or her house will make her come back. You just want to keep everything of hers that you can instead of just remembering her as a person. Historians remember people through their things. You're lucky- you have memories- hundreds and hundreds of them. You know what made Hermione who she was, you saw it every day. Be grateful for them and GROW UP!"

She yanked her coat back on, bundled her finds up in her arms and marched out into the mud.

"Ginny, listen to me!" yelled Harry after her. He was still in his pyjamas but he didn't care as he raced after her in the mud. She didn't even slow in her determined strides. He had no idea what to say, to make it all better.

"Go back inside Harry," she said.

"No!"

"Yes!"

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her round. She clutched tightly to the items in her arms in reflex.

"Tell me what to do to make it all up to you. Please Ginny, tell me."

"You can't do anything. I can't see how I could forgive you for this," she cried.

It was cold and wet and Harry felt utterly lost and alone. "Please Ginny," he said, clutching her tightly.

"Get off me," she said.

"Ginny…I can't! You said that I have memories, well I do…but right now I want Hermione back more than anyone. I want to talk to her and for her to call me and idiot and tell me what to do to make it all better. But she's not here and I don't have a friend like her anymore…I never will have a friend like her again. How do I make it better?"

"You don't" she said coldly.

She shook his hand away from her and marched away. Harry stayed still until he heard her dissaparate.

Thanks for reading! I'd love a review.