Hmm...my first story in a long while.

Also…this may be slightly overly-dramatic. If so, I don't apologize. Sorry. That's just how I write from other character's viewpoints. I've tried the detached approach, but it just doesn't work for me, so…yeah. Anyway…on with it, then.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It has been only six months, but to me, it feels like a lifetime.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left almost right after Bill's wedding to search for the horcruxes. I only know this because I was able to get Hermione to spill the beans about where they were going. It may have helped that I had walked in on her packing, and that I had threatened to tell my mum where they were going, but anyway…she did eventually tell me.

I couldn't believe this; they were leaving; this was supposed to have been their seventh year, their last year. They are supposed to be worrying about N.E.W.T. exams, and how they're supposed to finish that 3-foot essay for Potions, and how vicious Hagrid's magical creatures are. They shouldn't be off doing this.

Maybe I'm spiteful because they didn't let me go. Ron told me I was too young, of course; Hermione said I didn't know enough yet, and that I wasn't strong enough to do this with them.

Harry told me I would be a distraction…and that it would be terribly dangerous for me to go; it would be putting me in the line of fire, he said, and I already had a huge target on my back for being a Weasley. We didn't need to add to the problem by hinting that he and I were once involved.

Once.

That hurt. I knew we were broken up, but hearing him say that just made it…final, somehow. I should have long ago accepted it; I should have known he was too bloody noble for his, and apparently, my, own good. But, I suppose that's one of the reasons I…yeah.

I won't say it; I'll start bawling again if I do. I really haven't cried since the day after they left. I had been ignoring their absence. That is, until mum suddenly burst into hysterical sobs in the kitchen, talking about how she may never see her baby boy again, and all that.

I completely lost it.

I ran up to my room, locked the door, and threw myself on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest and just…cried. I cried for them, I cried for my family, I cried for all the other families that Voldemort and his stupid Death Eaters and this stupid war have destroyed, and…I cried for Harry. For all that we could have had…all that we could have been.

I still remember what I told Ron the day they left…

We were all saying goodbye to them. Harry and Ron had told us where they were going that morning. Hermione had stayed pretty silent throughout the whole thing. I think she felt guilty about telling me earlier.

As I was hugging Ron goodbye, I told him to promise me something.

"Sure, Gin…anything," he had said. He obviously had no idea what I was going to ask of him, because he wouldn't have been so sure he could keep the promise if he had.

"I want you to bring him back," I said in a choked whisper; I may not have cried, but I sure as hell felt like it. "Bring him back to me in one piece. Please."

Ron didn't look as shocked as I had thought he would. Instead, he had a rather sympathetic look on his face, and I knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

"Ginny…you know I can't-"

"NO. No Ron…don't say you can't do it. I need you to do this for me; please." I just wanted him to say he could keep the promise; I need him to say it.

He looked uncomfortable for a second, then hugged me again and said quietly, "Sure, Ginny-bean. Whatever you want."

Normally, I would cringe at the childish nickname, but at that moment, it somehow seemed very appropriate. I crushed him tighter into an embrace entirely too much like my mother's, told him thank-you, and felt him kiss the top of my head, just like he did when we were younger and I was upset about something.

I had already said my goodbye to Harry, but I looked at him again, only to find that he was staring at me. He had a somewhat pained look on his face, but there was also something in his eyes; it seemed like he was trying to burn me into his memory.

I was doing the same, afraid, for a minute, that I would never see him again. I had never told him I loved him; he had never said it, either.

But then, we never did have much of a need for words.

I hadn't even realized I was crying until I felt my face and realized it was wet. I hastily wiped the tears off my cheeks, and headed downstairs to help mum with dinner.

I know Ron will do his best to keep his promise. He's never broken one before, and I doubt that he'll start now.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hmm…I borrowed Ginny's nickname from the author of "War and Passion" over at Checkmated. Not a very good ending…but it's the best I could do. Hope you all had fun!