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.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Well. I set out to write a Gen fic...but it surprised me by turning into a H/G fic…and I dislike H/G but I really enjoyed writing the ship in this. There are some R/Hr hints (I'm a R/Hr shipper, don't worry)

Author's Notes: This piece marks the end of nearly nine months of writer's block. Inspiration came while I was in the shower and for the first time in a long time I put fear aside and actually tried to write. No- I do not normally think about Harry Potter in the shower. I wrote this listening to Bing Crosby's 'Have Yourself a Merry little Christmas', I really recommend listening to it as you read.

Ginny waved her wand and the claxon sound disappeared, leaving a ringing silence mingled occasionally with pattering footsteps of wizards running around outside.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled, her voice still impossibly loud.

"Ginny, not is not the time to explain," snapped Ron. "We have to look at this carving."

Harry, however, had not moved since he had realised it was Ginny. He swallowed and stood up very slowly.

"Ginny," he said in quiet greeting.

"Harry," she said coldly. "Ron, stop that."

"Listen," snapped Ron. "You can arrest us later…but this is important."

"Oh I don't need to arrest you," said Ginny with a glare at Harry.

"I was going to tell him," said Harry defensively. "But then we remembered-"

"I don't care! Ron step away from the table!" Ginny waved her wand and the sound of running footsteps disappeared. "It's a scare tactic," she explained. "Makes thieves think they're surrounded."

Ron did as he was told, glaring at his sister. "You aren't really going to arrest us?" he said suddenly.

Ginny shook her head, her whole body shaking with anger. "Tell him!" she shouted at Harry. "Go on!"

"Uh," said Harry.

"Never mind," snapped Ginny. "I'll do it if that's the way you want it. Ron…those pictures…Harry didn't loose them and-"

"I'll tell him!" said Harry quickly, he had to say this himself.

"I-I'm sorry Ron. I-I needed more time. I lied, I didn't send those pictures off to you…I had them the whole time." He swallowed. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Ginny clearly made a silencing motion.

"Go on," she said.

"And…when you saw me talking to Janie…and when she was bidding for this house…she was bidding on my behalf."

Harry lowered his head. Everyone in the kitchen remained silent. Ron seemed to be building up to something…he was going to hex him or hit him…

"I don't believe this," said Ron quietly, in much the same way his sister had when she had first found out. "You…"

"-Lied, yeah I know," snapped Harry.

"I don't believe this…" echoed Ron. "I can't believe I was nervous about telling you I proposed to Janie! When you've been doing this all this time!"

"What?" demanded Harry and Ginny in unison.

"I'm going to marry her," said Ron defiantly. "I asked and she said yes. I was scared that you'd be angry at me…but all this time you've been lying and telling me that it was all 'Hedwig's fault' and that you don't know who bought the house! Were you planning it? Right from the beginning?"

"I wasn't planning it!" shouted Harry. "Why will no one understand? It just happened, I was upset and confused and everyone seemed to be dealing with it except me!"

"Dealing with it?" bellowed Ron. "All I think about night and day is 'Did she love me?' because I don't know. And I don't know what will be worse- finding out she did or finding out she didn't. Because if she did…if I have to accept that I had all that time with her that I didn't use it's going to kill me. But I need to know…I have to. You've taken everything else. Images of her- her home- everything. But I won't let you steal her last words from me!"

He kicked the table ferociously, knocking it so that its legs were facing upwards, and there, on the underside, was a rough carving. He knelt down to peer at closely.

"I know where it is!" he shouted triumphantly. "Don't' you dare follow me Harry- I won't let you take this from me- I won't!"

"What gives you the right to see it first?" shouted Harry. "She was my friend too!"

"And she'd be ashamed of it if she could see you now," yelled Ron.

Harry reeled back, as if physically hit. "Like she'd be happy with you refusing to let me see her last words!" he snapped back.

"YOU DID IT FIRST!"

"Well go on then!" yelled Harry, his voice sore with shouting. "GO ON! I hope it makes you happy…but I'm not letting you get it without a fight."

"STOP IT!" screamed Ginny. "You're both being-"

But Ron had, with a final glare at Harry, pushed open the kitchen door and run into the dusk.

Harry dropped to his knees, tracing the map to a point with a big oak tree.

"I know where it is," he said aloud triumphantly and like Ron dashed towards the kitchen door.

But Ginny leapt forward, seizing his arm.

"No! Harry…you'll destroy your friendship with Ron if you go!"

"It's already ruined!"

"Don't go…I'll never forgive you if you go. Hermione wouldn't have wanted-"

Harry was painfully aware that with every second Ginny was stalling him, Ron was racing towards the oak tree.

"You don't know what Hermione would have wanted," he shouted. "Why destroy the last chance we'll ever have of finding out?"

"No!" repeated Ginny, clinging to him and holding him back.

"Don't make me hex you Ginny," snarled Harry.

"She loved Ron," said Ginny suddenly. "I know she did, but he doesn't. You know she was your friend. You have nothing to gain. But I love you, and I you stay here you'll gain more than you would by needlessly fighting Ron."

She was crying. A very strong part of Harry told him to sag into her arms and forget about the letter. They could talk…Ron could come back and they could talk.

"Stay," she wheedled softly "Let Ron win this one. Let him know for sure."

"But what about Janie?" demanded Harry, the anger flooding back to him as quickly as it had ebbed. He had no idea why he was acting this way, but for all the futility and pain it was causing, no part of him was able to, nor really wanted it to stop. "What about her? If Ron's so in love with her why does he need Hermione's memory?"

"Because he's confused!" cried Ginny. "None of us understands what happened or how to make it go away…this thing with Janie is just a stupid attempt- listen to me!"

He had tugged his arm free of her grasp.

"I can't Ginny," said Harry in the most level voice he could muster.

"Would Hermione-"

"I DON'T KNOW!" he bellowed suddenly. "I don't know what Hermione would or wouldn't do…or what she'd say or what she wouldn't! So STOP ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW!"

He wanted to break something, but all there was were Hermione's furniture. He turned and marched to the door.

"I won't forgive you for this!" yelled Ginny as he opened the door and started through it. "If you go I'll never ever forgive you!"

Harry turned and gave a desperate shrug before starting a mad dash outside and into the wet ground.

So may parts of him were telling him different things that all he could do was listen to the loudest, the one pumping through his body, which was get to Ron.

He raced blindly ahead of him. Ron had a head start, but he, Harry, could use his wand to light his path without the risk of being followed. And, of course, he was a faster runner. If he sprinted he might just…

"You'll regret this Harry!" shouted Ginny, running into the mud after him. She stumbled across the wet ground, not seeming to care that mud was splashing up her official looking robes, or that it was raining and cold. "I won't let you do this!"

Harry tried to block her out and concentrated on every step that bought him close to the oak tree. Her slipped as slid his way across the ground, so intent on staying upright that he barely concentrated on where he was stepping, just made sure he went as quickly as possible before gravity caught up. Ginny was in pursuit, he chest heaving with the run and the cold.

After a minute her gasps for air faded as he sprinted ahead, the thumps of her shoes died and Harry lifted is wand high above his head to see better.

There in the distance was Ron. He was crawling on his hands and knees, scrabbling in the mud.

Harry raced forward and began doing the same, pulling as much of the ground up as he could.

"Get away from me," snarled Ron.

"You've got Janie!" taunted Harry. "What do you need Hermione for?"

In the brief moments after he said this, Harry had never seen Ron look so angry. His face twisted almost comically and his cheeks burned beneath the mud streaked across them.

"I said keep AWAY!" he yelled. There on his hands and knees he shoved Harry so that he fell backwards into the ground. Harry fought himself upwards onto his elbows, feeling the pain from Ron's shove, before pushing himself forward at Ron and knocking him flying too.

The fight that followed was not brave or dramatic, but short and nasty. They rolled around in the dirt, scratching, kicking, pushing and dragging any part of each other they could reach. They were yelling so loudly neither of them could hear their own words and by the time Ginny scrambled towards them they were both sore and tired and yet still utterly furious.

She was shrieking and yelling and they were shouting themselves hoarse, still hurting any part of each other they could reach.

"If you want the letter so damn much then FINE!" shrieked Ginny, loudly enough to drown out the wave of noise from the boys. "Fine! HAVE IT!"

She jabbed her wand at the ground beneath them. The parts of it under Harry began to tremble and…he and Ron were thrown into the air way a mound up mud pushing it's way up from underneath them. The rolled down the newly formed hill, being bashed and hit by rocks and twigs that had been brought up as well.

"There!" shouted Ginny triumphantly. "I'll find it for you…I'll search the mud until I find it and then you can fight each other for it! That's what you want!"

In seeming hysteria she dropped to her knees and began to scramble through the mud. Ron tried to pull her away, but he lashed out at him and then resumed clawing and scrabbling.

Harry and Ron, both still on their knees, remained still. Neither of them spoke. They just watched Ginny's desperate motions.

"Gi-Ginny," choked Ron, but she did not reply.

Harry sunk into a sitting position, using his arms to remain upright.

"Ginny?" he tried. All the energy seemed to have left him. All the anger was gone as well. Now everyone he loved hated him, he'd hit his only remaining friend, and the girl he was pretty sure he fancied was crawling through mud, tears falling down her face so hard that she could only breathe in big gulps of air.

The adrenalin would seep from her too soon enough and then what would happen? How long would the three of them sit in the mud in silence? Getting up and going home…well it seemed a ridiculous notion.

They did sit like that for a long time, Ginny kept going with her laborious task, but it seemed more from not knowing what else to do that any real determination anymore. They just say in the dark and listened to the dull clumps of earth and Ginny worked.

Several times Harry opened his mouth to say something and the shut it again. They-he had done enough damage enough that it seemed impossible that anything he could say could bridge the gaps between them.

"I-I-" said Ginny hoarsely. "I think I've found it."

She was sitting at the base of the tree, covered in dirt. Harry and Ron crawled forward weakly, although both seemed tensed – as though ready to act should either try to snatch the box.

"How do we get it out?" asked Ron. He ran his hands through the hair plastered to his head and tapped at the tin with his wand, scraping the dirt away.

Harry had to wonder at the same thing – the box seemed to be embedded in the roots of the tree.

"You can't," said Ginny. She peered up at the tree thoughtfully, her face wet and shiny. "Not without knocking down the tree."

"I say we all accio it," said Ron. He looked to Harry.

None of them seemed to be addressing the fact that they were muddy and wet, their voices sore from shouting, and their robes and friendship in tatters. Harry just wanted to get the tin and leave…he'd deal with everything else afterwards.

"On three," he said. "One – two – three – ACCIO TIN!"

They all tried the spell…the tin trembled with the force but seemed stuck fast.

"ACCIO!" they tried again. "ACCIO!"

There was a groan of metal; surely the tree hadn't stuck wrapped that tightly around it?

"ACCIO TIN!"

"ACCIO!"

With a scrape of metal the tin shook harder than before and started inching towards them, struggling against the roots. Ginny reached and tugged at it, grunting with the strain.

"ACCIO!" bellowed Harry again.

There was a cracking noise…Ginny fell backwards with the force and the box shot free and bounced across the heaps of mud. This time the groan seemed to come from the very tree itself.

The ground beneath them trembled again, as though something beneath them was pushing upwards. Ron was the first to see what was happening.

"It's falling over!" he shouted. As one they began crawling away from the tree, wet, tired, and desperate.

The process was slow but with such a feeling of finality that even if Harry had been standing up he would have been unnerved by the collapse of the tree. The roots pushed upwards through the soil and the tree tilted slowly and heavily backwards before tilting far enough to fall heavily to he ground in a great crackling of branches.

It was all over. They had the letter and Ginny as crying silently. She leaned and picked it up, tossing it to the dirt in front of Harry and Ron.

"There you go," she said dully, staggering to her feet. "And much happiness may it bring you both."

And, with a heavy tread, her shoulders thrown back, she walked away from them in disgust.