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.

Harry remembered his next actions very vividly for a long time. He picked the tin from the floor and held it out to Ron. Ron pushed it back to him as though it were simply repulsive. After much head shaking and 'You take it!' looks Ron took it with fingers shaking from both nerves and cold and tucked it away beneath his robes.

They trudged back down the Apparition point and left.

The next few days passed slowly and with deliberate quietness. Harry made mugs of tea and shaved and tackled his pile of washing. He felt comforted by such normality.

He made no move to contact people, but Mrs. Weasley dropped by on the third day with a box of pasties and a flask of homemade hot chocolate. She spent some time nattering about the weather and fretting over the state of Harry's socks. In way of news though, she was quiet.

"Ron and Ginny…they're well…it's just a delicate time for everyone right now," she said kindly. "Hermione was a lovely girl," she said suddenly. "She was a good friend to Ron and Ginny, and to you."

Harry nodded, thinking of the tin filled with Hermione's last words.

"I was planning to drop around and see Helen and David later…Helen's still inconsolable and David…he won't even see his patients."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, "can you do me a favour? Hang on…"

He got up and darted to his bedroom where the box was still strewn. He snatched them and rushed back to Mrs. Weasley.

"Will you give them to Mr and Mrs. Granger?" he begged

Mrs. Weasley lifted the lid and peered inside reverently. She sniffled and nodded.

"Thanks," breathed Harry. Never had he been so pleased that he didn't want them anymore.

After Mrs. Weasley left, Ginny was the next visitor in the following days. She appeared at the door once more, but this time with an expression of deep annoyance.

"I'm not here to talk," she said stiffly. "I'm here to tell you that you're to begin working on the second of January-"

"Come in," begged Harry.

She gave him a look as though she deeply regretted it, but she held her head high and brushed past him.

"Well?" she snapped. "Who won? Who's read Hermione's last magic words?"

Harry shrugged. "I gave it to Ron."

She frowned, but said sorrowfully. "I'd like to believe that Harry, but I don't think I know you anymore."

"Ask Ron," he replied desperately. "I did."

"That doesn't make it all better," she said. Ginny pulled her coat around herself tighter and stared at the floor. "You lied and you damaged your friendship with Ron."

"And I ruined what I had with you?"

She looked up at him honestly. "I look at you and I don't see Harry Potter anymore. Not the one I knew anyway."

They were silent for a long time. Harry stated ashamedly at the floor. Ginny watched the Christmas tree.

"It's nearly new year," she said abruptly. "Why are the decorations still up?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno."

The side of her mouth moved, just fractionally, into a sharp smile before falling back into her set expression. "Well, I'd better be going."

There was another knock at the door, this time a loud banging. Harry walked quickly to get it and found Ron standing breathlessly at the step.

"I told you I don't want it!" he said without explanation and pushed the tin, still covered in dried mud, into Harry's hands.

"C'min," muttered Harry.

Ron hesitated uncertainly, but followed Harry into the sitting room.

"Mum told me you were here," he said grumpily to Ginny. "I'm glad you two've worked everything out at least. Never mind me."

"If you must know I came to pass on a message to Harry," said Ginny coldly. "I haven't forgiven either of you!" She spotted the box in Harry's hands. "You could at least tell me what it said," she said. "I would've liked to know, even if I didn't people fighting in the mud over it."

Ron shrugged. "I couldn't- I didn't want to…what if it said-"

"Is that all you care about? What she said about you?" demanded Ginny. "I know Hermione loved me, and she loved Harry, and she loved you! All I'm interested in is saying goodbye and remembering her in my own way."

"Here then," snapped Ron. He snatched the box from Harry hands and pushed it towards Ginny. "Go on!"

Ginny looked highly uncomfortable to be in such a position. She sunk onto Harry's couch and looked at the tin for a moment. "I-"

Harry and Ron remained standing, highly alert. "Go on Ginny," said Harry gruffly. "You deserve it."

Ginny ran one hand through her newly short hair and, with great care, reached for the lid. It seemed to take and absolute age for her to lift the lid away and peer in. Then, just as slowly as before she reached in and pulled out one battered, slightly damp piece of folded parchment. She opened it and, with a deep breath, read aloud.

"To everyone, I destroyed all the diaries that I kept during the war, including the one that detailed how very much I cared for you all. It was very muddy and not very legible. If you cared enough to come and find this tin then I'm sure nothing I could've written would change how you feel about me, and I'm sure that you know how I feel about you too- Love Hermione."

Harry felt all the weight drift away, he sank onto the couch next to Ginny, followed shortly by Ron.

They sat in silence for a minute before Ginny giggled. "That was SO Hermione." He giggles turned into a kind of desperate laughter.

Harry felt both shocked and guilty, but Ginny's laughter was so very infectious and he was at such an unsure point that he started laughing too, right along with Ron.

They laughed until they were sick with it and they slumped back breathlessly. "Trust Hermione," gasped Harry.

"There's never going to be another one like her, that's for sure," wheezed Ron.

"If I had a glass I'd make a toast…to Hermione!" said Ginny.

"To Hermione!" chorused the boys.

They lapsed into absolute silence, suddenly nothing felt very funny at all. Hermione really was gone- would she ever make them laugh like that again?

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "Really…I gave to photos back to the Grangers…I need you both more than I need Hermione stuff. I love her and I love you…I can do both."

"What about the house?" demanded Ginny.

Harry thought. "Would Bill and Fleur want it?"

"Fleur will probably kiss you again," said Ron.

"Fleur'll probably give you Gabrielle as a thank you gift," giggled Ginny. "At least until she realises how muddy it gets up there." This sent her into another peal of laughter.

It seemed to be a moment for this sort of thing because Ron confessed too. "I broke it off with Janie, I explained that I'd been grieving and everything."

Ginny reached and patted Ron's knee.

"Have you forgiven us?" asked Harry.

"I'm not as mad as I was, but you'll both need to earn the respect you nearly ruined again," she looked pointedly at them both.

"Well miss you Hermione," sighed Ron, looking sadly at the box.

""Yeah," said Harry and Ginny.

"C'mon," sighed Ginny. "Let's get rid of these decorations…oh Harry…look at that tree…the charm is falling apart! One more day and all of your decorations would've been on the floor"

"Don't be stupid Ginny," said Ron. "One more day and it would've been chasing him around the house…they do that when you don't take them down before New Year. Remember that time when mum got sick and Dad forgot?"

They started bundling up holly and tinsel. Harry proudly displayed his new and fail proof method of keeping fairy-lights un-knotted over the year. Just as he had dumped it back into a box there were sounds of a scuffle and Ginny gleefully tugged and intensely knotted string back out, giggling manically.

That night they stayed late, eating, talking, and playing with an ancient set of Gobstones.

"To Hermione," they chorused, clinking their glasses. "May she live on in us all."

Fin.