I'd like to make an important announcement, I realize that this story was meant to be told by individuals to the rest of the audience, but I found that that just did not work with the scene I was imagining, so…the beginning of the chapter should clarify that. Sorry if this confuses you, but it needed to be done. THEY JUST DESCRIBED THE BATTLE SCENE AND THAT'S IT…as I say, the next few chapters should clear that up for you. If it doesn't, don't spew nasty comments at me…I'm doing my best here.

Also, I do know that I said that this chapter would focus on Ron and Hermione, well, I lied. It WILL, but I really need to wrap up Harry and Ginny's part first. It shouldn't take too long. Sorry! There will be Harry/Ginny moments, but that's it. This chapter will begin back at present time, remember that… And to close this off, the beginning of the flashback in this chapter will begin right after the end of chapter 5.

Disclaimer: Running out of sarcastic things to say here…

"…and, well, that's all…I don't think you want a play-by-play of everything…" Harry finished.

The crowd made several distinct noises: sighs at a happy ending, gasps of surprise at the story. Dumbledore approached Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry. All were standing on the podium (which had widened to make room for all of them).

"Wonderful story," Dumbledore said happily. "I think we have all enjoyed hearing it, however, I will not delay any of you any longer in socializing opportunities…"

As the four mingled back into the crowd, their minds wandered back to those days of fear and fighting, of mystery and mistakes, when they knew nothing about the future…

Flashback

The next morning Harry awoke with a jolt in Ron's familiar room, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. His eyes were wide with fear. He breathed deeply, telling himself that it had only been a dream.

Ron mumbled something incomprehensive, rolled over and opened one bleary eye to look across the room at his best friend.

"Whassat?" he asked sleepily. Harry slumped back onto his pillows and did not respond at first.

"Whassamatta?" Ron retained the same half-awake tone as he said this.

"Nothing…just a dream…" Harry bent his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"About what?" Ron seemed more awake now, and genuinely concerned. "I know you're…kinda used to nightmares, but…"

Harry finally decided to make eye contact. "It was about…Ginny," he said heavily.

Ron raised one eyebrow. "What about her?"

"I dreamt that she…I had to watch Voldemort torturing her…" Harry dropped his head into his hands.

Ron was silent. "Gee, mate…I wish I could say something…"

"Do you know how hard it is?" Harry posed this question abruptly. "Do you know what it's like to watch the only girl you've ever loved being hurt? Tortured?"

"Yes," Ron responded quietly, looking frightened that Harry would have one of his well-known anger fits again.

Harry froze. Of course. Hermione. How could he have been so stupid?

"I know what it's like," Ron continued shakily. "Only a few nights ago…Malfoy came to her house…busted the gate…even though it was just a dream…" Ron trailed off and shook his head, turning away.

"I'm sorry, mate…" Harry felt horrible. "I know how much Hermione means to you…"

Under normal circumstances, Ron would probably have denied that it was Hermione hastily, whilst sporting the trademark Weasley blush. But this time, he knew it was true, and merely nodded.

After a huge breakfast, Harry and Ginny snuck off together. Ron watched them go with a resentful eye. He knew he should be happy for them, but it was difficult. Nobody else had noticed them go, as far as he knew.

Ron wandered the house aimlessly. The party preparations were not underway yet. Ron had planned to start over with Hermione this summer; give himself a clean slate. Now he wasn't so sure how easily this goal could be achieved.

After twenty minutes of climbing the stairs, pausing at the top, and coming down again, of picking up the iron rod to poke the fire only to find no fire in the fireplace grate, Ron decided to get a breath of fresh air, and headed for the shed.

He rummaged amongst the old brooms in the lopsided little shed until he came across the broom that had, obviously, been placed there by his mother, and that had served him two years of Keeper duty. He strode determinedly up towards the empty field that served as a Quidditch pitch for the seven Weasley children. He mounted and kicked off. He could never be anywhere as good a flyer as Harry, but two years of playing for Gryffindor had given him some amount of skills.

He soared in circles and loop-de-loops, enjoying the cool wind that played with his hair and stung his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them halfway shut. He opened his mouth and took a gulp of cold air.

Unfortunately, something else happened…

All of a sudden, the wind gave a spurt of energy and blew several leaves in Ron's direction. They hit him squarely in the face, and one flew directly into his open mouth. He coughed and spluttered, taking his hands from the broom. It went wild, flying in all directions. By the time Ron had regurgitated the leaf and placed both hands securely back on the broom handle, he was speeding for the ground, straight at…

Unbeknownst to Ron, Hermione had also seen Harry and Ginny sneaking away together, and though she had not heard anything from Ginny, she put the pieces together. She wasn't called the smartest witch of her age for nothing. She was happy for them, but somehow felt a twinge of jealousy…in her mind's eye was an image of her and Ron, smiling and laughing, holding hands…

She lay down on the tattered couch in the living room. However, her hopes of pleasant, Ron-free sleep were for naught; the minute her eyes fluttered closed she found her mind whirling with thoughts. The harder she tried to push them away, the more they filled her ears and mind, spiraling out of control…

Hermione gasped and sat up. Her head was swirling; she felt a pounding sensation in her brain. She touched the sides of her head lightly with her fingertips. This was way too much. All the built-up pressure that had constantly bothered her was crashing down. I need some air, she told herself. She launched herself off the couch, made for the door and walked out into the light, breezy June air.

She collected herself and was about to find a nice, quiet, shady patch of grass on which she could rest, when she spotted a small black thing, flying around in the air, over near the field that the Weasleys used as a Quidditch pitch. She smiled, and decided to go and watch whoever it was. She had a certain redhead in mind, however…

When she reached the field's edge, she stood and squinted into the sun, eyes following the flyer. She smiled; she would recognize Ron anywhere.

Suddenly, several small things seemed to come rushing at him. He tried to bat them away and his broom went haywire. Hermione gasped as he was tossed this way and that, and then his broom went into a dive. Her eyes widened in horror as he hurtled down, straight towards her.

She screamed and tried to move, but her feet seemed to be glued to the ground. She could only watch, helplessly, as he flew nearer and nearer. She could just see him trying desperately to pull out of the dive, before she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable blow…to hear the crunch as he crashed into her, to see stars flashing before she blacked out, to feel the incredible pain, and wonder how badly Ron was hurt…

None of these came. What she did hear was a terrible thud. What she did feel was an awful sensation in her gut. What she did see when she opened her eyes was Ron, some six feet away, crumpled on the ground. Hermione guessed that he had thrown himself off of his broom to avoid hitting her. He couldn't have fallen more than a few feet, but still…

Hermione instantly ran to him and knelt next to his unmoving body. She rolled him onto his back and grabbed his wrist, feeling anxiously for a pulse. She found one, faintly, much to her relief. She finally let out the air she'd been holding in since she'd opened her eyes.

Thinking quickly, Hermione leapt to her feet, aimed her wand in the air, and said, "Expecto Patronum!" The familiar silver otter shot out of the end of her wand, and turned to her for instruction.

"Go to Mrs. Weasley, and tell her that Ron fell off of his broom, and he's hurt." Hermione said this all in one breath. The otter made a happy, obliging noise and sped away towards the house. Hermione then turned back to Ron's crumpled form, pointed her wand at him, and wordlessly performed a spell. Ron floated into the air. Hermione levitated him carefully back down the slope, and was met by an anxious-looking Molly Weasley as she approached the back door.

"Here, dear, bring him in…thank heaven you were there for him…"

Hermione only half-smiled, not caring to mention that she was partially the cause of his injury.

Once Ron had been laid on the couch in the living room (the same couch, Hermione could not help but notice, that she herself had laid down on only ten minutes before), Mrs. Weasley bustled about looking for her household healing book, and Hermione sat by Ron, examining his injuries. He had suffered a bruise on his elbow, a large bump on his head and his ankle was twisted rather badly. Hermione knew that he could have been injured much more severely, had he fallen from a greater height.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley returned, carrying a thick book that was labeled Household Healing Spells for Stay-at-home Mums. She thumbed through it, found the appropriate spells, and performed them. Ron's injuries faded and he remained lying there, unconscious.

"Best to leave him there a while," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "Thank you, dear," she added to Hermione.

Hermione smiled. "I'll stay here with him," she replied.

Mrs. Weasley returned her smile warmly, then departed. Hermione turned back to face Ron, and took in his pale features with sadness. She did not know quite how long she had been sitting there before the rhythmic crackling and warmth of the lazy fire lulled her slowly into a dreamless sleep, haunted by dark, indistinct figures and Dark Marks floating in a stormy sky...

"Hermione?"

Somebody's warm hand was tentatively resting on her knee, shaking it gently. She opened her eyes reluctantly to find Ron propped up by pillows, very much awake. He removed his hand quickly from her knee when her eyes fluttered open as she sat up and cursed herself for falling asleep. What if he had needed her?

"Hermione?" Ron repeated, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

She smiled at his concern. "I'm fine. I should be asking you that question."

Ron shook his head lightly. "I think I'm okay…what happened?"

Hermione started; she had completely forgotten about the reason they were there in the first place.

"Er…you-you fell off your broom," she said hastily. His eyes widened.

"I remember…I jumped off…broom was out of control…"

"You did it to avoid hitting me," Hermione said quietly.

Ron flushed. "Um…well, I couldn't just crash into you, right?" he stuttered.

Hermione nodded slowly, then, feeling the thick silence descending upon them, quickly got up and walked over to the window. It was, to her surprise, rain-washed, and she could make out a gray, stormy sky. How long had she been asleep?

"Erm…thanks," Ron said awkwardly, obviously unsure whether this was the right thing to say, or the right time to say it. Hermione turned to him; he was sitting up now.

"No," she replied, walking back towards him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"Umm…you're welcome," he said shortly, and then, without making eye contact, stood and made for the stairs, blushing furiously. Hermione stared after him for some time before she heard a reluctant giggle. She straightened furiously and whipped her head around, scanning the room for the culprit. Finally, she noticed a shoe standing on its own near the base of the staircase. Though this may be considered normal, Hermione knew better.

She assumed the worst, and strode over to where the shoe (which, upon closer examination, was connected to a sock-clad ankle) still sat. She felt into thin air for a while before her hand connected with something hard, just a little higher than the top of her head. She heard an indignant "Ow!" and, smirking, reached to the left. She gathered the invisible, silky cloth in her hand and pulled hard.

There she stood, Invisibility Cloak in hand, looking at a red-faced Ginny Weasley, doubled up with laughter, and Harry Potter, who yanked off his glasses and rubbed a spot just above his eye. Hermione assumed that she'd shoved his glasses into his face.

Hermione looked upon the scene with a mixture of anger and reluctant amusement. Ginny finally managed to control herself, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, did you have to do that?" Harry grumbled, putting his glasses back on and glaring moodily at her.

"You were spying on me and Ron, you know," Hermione pointed out, becoming just as irritable as she recalled what the offending pair had been doing.

"It's Ron and I," Ginny put in, grinning. Hermione threw her the nastiest look she could muster.

Harry seemed to remember what they had obviously witnessed, and beamed, forgetting Hermione's terrible crime in the process.

"That was priceless," he said happily. The look Hermione gave him could have rendered the sun a ball of ice.

"Whoa, if looks could kill…" Ginny whispered. Hermione did, indeed, look as if she could kill.

"What do you think you were doing?" she exclaimed.

"Well, we just happened to overhear Ron attempting to wake you up, and we just decided to…look in on you," Ginny said simply. Hermione was seriously beginning to worry about the amount of influence Fred and George had on their sister.

"Fat chance." Hermione scowled; she didn't need to hear their mockery any more. She turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs, leaving Harry and Ginny to exchange knowing smirks.

Ron flung himself onto his violently orange bedspread, cheeks burning and head whirling. What was wrong with him, anyway? It wasn't like there was anything going on between him and Hermione—no matter how much I wished there was, he thought—so why did he have to go and make a fool of himself whenever she was nearby?

His thoughts were torn from his head as the door banged open and Harry entered, looking frightened. When their eyes met, however, Ron could see the merriment in his friend's eyes. That merriment faded quickly as Harry took in Ron's sober expression, and he collapsed on his cot.

"What happened?" Ron asked quietly. Harry turned to him and was unable to keep from laughing.

"Ginny and I were—" He stopped abruptly; Ron would not take well to the truth. "We were, um…"

"They were spying on us!" Hermione's angry voice floated through the open door and Harry flinched. She appeared in the doorframe, looking very much as she sounded.

"Spying?" Ron repeated. "On us? When?"

Hermione sighed; Ron was obviously being a bit thick. "Just a few minutes ago! When you were—trying to wake me up!"

Ron's face dawned with realization, and he turned to Harry, who looked very small. Harry chuckled weakly.

"Mate—" Ron began. He never finished his sentence; Hermione lunged, and Harry leapt off the cot with amazing agility, turned on the spot and vanished.

"Damn him and his Apparating!" Hermione spat viciously. Ron turned to her with surprised eyes.

"Hermione…you swore…"

"Of course I did!" she cried. Ron backed off, frightened for her sanity and for his safety.

"Look…Hermione…it's not such a big deal…" he said quickly, and cringed, waiting for the blow…

Hermione sighed helplessly and sank onto the cot. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just…it's been so hard lately…"

Ron nodded. "I know."

Hermione heaved another heavy sigh. She didn't seem to be able to bring herself to look at him. The two of them seemed to reach a wordless connection, and that was all that Ron needed to understand.

Outside, the rain was pouring down in sheets. Ginny Weasley sat in the rocking chair on their porch, shielded from the rain by the atrocious pinstriped awning. She'd managed to duck away from Hermione's wrath and escape outside. Rain had always soothed her.

Suddenly, the air seemed to rip open with a CRACK, and Harry appeared in the garden. He yelled as the rain drenched him, turned and made for the porch. Ginny held open the screen door for him and he rushed in gratefully.

"What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Forgot it was raining" was Harry's simple answer. Ginny pulled up a chair next to hers for Harry to sit in. He did so, after siphoning as much of the rainwater as he could off of his clothing with his wand.

"So I take it you escaped from the wrath of Hermione?" Ginny joked. Harry chuckled and nodded, then fell silent. The grin slid from his face and he looked at her suddenly, eyes full of remorse.

"Ginny…" he began, then broke off. "Never mind. It's not important." He got up abruptly, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and made to walk towards the back door. Ginny, however, flew to him, and whipped him to face her, hands on his shoulders.

"Please don't do this," she said quietly, eyes pleading with him. "Don't keep it all inside. I don't have much time left with you. I want to make the most of it, and that means—that means that we have to be honest with each other. I won't let you leave me here with so many unanswered questions."

Harry couldn't bear to see her so sad. He gathered her tightly in his arms and held her. She buried her head into his shoulder as he stroked her hair and rocked her gently back and forth.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. "I can't stand seeing you like this."

"Please promise you'll come back," she said, taking her head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes. There was a hitch in her voice as she spoke. "Please don't leave me."

Harry nodded, biting his lip to keep the tears down. He leaned his head in to share a sweet, sad kiss with her that he wished could last forever. They were drawn apart suddenly, however, by a little cough that sounded frighteningly close to Umbridge's hem hem's. Mrs. Weasley stood there, looking shocked—she had obviously only been there a few seconds.

Harry quickly stepped back from Ginny as if he had committed a serious offence. He swallowed uncomfortably, straining to say something. "Uh…we…"

"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley said. To Harry's horror tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. "Oh my goodness."

"Mrs. Weasley…" Harry began again.

"Mum…" Ginny said, almost at the same time.

Mrs. Weasley looked between them with a mixed expression. "You two…are…"

"Mum, I'm sorry…" Ginny cut her off. "We should have told you, but…we didn't want you to…"

"Are you two…together?" Mrs. Weasley asked, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"No!" Harry said, a little too quickly. "Um…I mean…" He trailed off, his shoulders sagged, and he nodded.

"Oh, Ginny! My Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley suddenly exclaimed. She rushed forward, eyes glistening, and gathered them both into a bear hug. Harry and Ginny snatched a glimpse at each other over her shoulder. Their expressions read, "The-world-has-definitely-gone-mad".

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Ginny…Harry…" Suddenly she seemed to remember something, and her face darkened as if a shadow had passed over it.

"We've got to prepare for the…the party," she said finally. She seemed very tired, but straightened up and pretended to act normal. Harry and Ginny, however, could see through this.

"We're going to have to have the party inside, for obvious reasons," Mrs. Weasley said mildly, scanning the gray skies with distaste. "I'd like you two to help me get ready." With that, she turned and disappeared back through the door. Harry looked at Ginny questioningly.

"Mum doesn't want you to go either," Ginny said shortly. Harry snorted despite the circumstances.

"It's not funny," she said seriously. "I know Mum thinks of you as an eighth child…I don't want to sound harsh, but Mum has no idea how much you mean to me. No idea at all."

Harry couldn't listen anymore. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and they walked inside together, hand in hand.

Ron's hopes for starting over were, in his mind, now almost ruined. He only had one last chance: the party. Still, he couldn't help but think to himself: So much for a clean slate…

I did say that this chapter would have Harry/Ginny in it, too! I hope it wasn't too cheesy. I personally like writing darker stuff, so this chapter had a little bit of angst in it, and a whole lot of drama!

Troubled Tazzy-Yes, I am changing Voldemort's death, obviously. Good for you for noticing!

Kamiangel-Thanks! And especially thanks for saying it's classic, I do try to keep them in character and it's good to know that my work has paid off. So thanks once again!

Featherfinger-I hope this chapter helped you understand it better! Thanks for your awesome reviews!