Two Photographs

Part II- Ron


All six of the horcruxes were gone, destroyed by the three of us over the course of the year. From August 'til June, living in the shadows and having no contact with the world... just with one another, and now it was almost over, just one target left in Voldemort himself...

"So when do we do it?" I asked softly, taking a bite from my biscuit. The firelight illuminated my hand, lined with scars and wrinkles from countless death scares.

Harry shook his head, hidden beneath a long hood. He had done many things in the last year; many things that would have sentenced him to Azkaban had it been anything but wartime—only now would the Ministry talk of giving him awards for acts that we all called heinous and terrible under our breaths as we completed them. He couldn't bear to have people look upon him and see these things and think great of him, so he hid from the world.

"Two days. That's when Snape said Voldemort was going to be launching his attack on Hogwarts; we can't risk anything before that, he's going to have thousands of Death Eaters gathering around him to prepare."

"So we have two days to prepare?" Hermione stood up and took our bottle of water. "What do we need to do? Plan our attack, or maybe work some more on battle tactics..."

Harry shook his head slightly. "We're not going to get any better in two days. What the two of you need is to think of what you're fighting for—to remember and reflect, and prepare mentally."

I stared at Harry with my mouth open. Hermione shot me a 'shut-your-mouth-now' look and poured a glass of water. "So we're going to stay here and share memories?"

He shook his head again. "I want you to go home tomorrow morning and spend a day with your families."

My mouth dropped. We hadn't seen our families since July, and every time one of us would bring them up, Harry would lecture us on how dangerous it would be for us to go back.

As though he read my mind, Harry continued on. "Voldemort isn't going to care with the attack against Hogwarts only a day away; he can't risk alerting the Order by going to your homes and placing an attack there. Besides, I doubt he'll take notice with the plans that he's going over. It's perfectly safe."

"Where are you gonna go?" I stood up and moved next to Hermione, taking the cup from her hands. "You wanna come with me to the Burrow?"

He shook his head again. "I can't risk it. Besides... I want to go back to the graveyard and to Godric's Hollow. Maybe some of my old luck with come back."

"You sure?" Hermione muttered.

"Yeah. The thing is..." he stopped for a moment, staring deep into the fire. "If you go home and realize that there is something else out there worth not dying for, I want you to stay and not have to leave me directly. If you find something at home that makes life worth it, then stay. I'll understand; I'd do the same if I had a family to live for."


Mum had screamed at me when I'd first appeared in the doorway. Swore at me and hit me before falling onto me, latching on and swearing she'd never let me go.

Had it been even a year ago, I'd have rolled my eyes and said I didn't understand women. Been awkward and all that. But now... when she hugged me, all I could see was that paper we found in a gutter. The one with a tiny picture of Ginny in the corner, telling us she had died over a month before. Nothing more. She'd been forgotten.

Then Mum told me that Charlie, Percy and George were dead as well.

I couldn't do anything but just stand there. What else was I supposed to do? Cry? I couldn't. I'm the joker, the kid who never gets anything right and makes every situation better.

"Any more food, dear?"

I looked up and mum and nodded. We hadn't had a real meal in so long that I didn't feel bad about eating four helpings. Besides, mum loved to cook.

Dad smiled blandly over the table before turning back to Bill, speaking in hushed tones. At his side Fleur was trying to put the small baby to sleep. Fred watched her silently.

"Here," Mum muttered, scooping more food onto my plate. She put it down and smiled at me. "So how long are you here for?"

Dad and Bill's conversation stopped instantly. Even Fleur stopped rocking the now-sleeping baby and watched him intensely. I felt my face grow red. "Tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?" Mum cried out, almost dropping the pot of food. "You've only come back for a night?"

She looked ready to burst into tears. I bit my lip and stood up. "Sorry, Mum. Harry wants us ready tomorrow. Hopefully this will all be over soon and then we can all come back here again..."

"You're not going to beat them," she interrupted shortly. Dad looked ready to protest, but Mum raised her hand and waved him off. "You're going to die out there, you know that? All three of you are going to be killed alone and cold out there, just like your brothers and sister. You're not going to make a difference."

The image of Ginny's picture in the old newspaper shot to the top of my mind. She was already forgotten by the world, wasn't she? Maybe in years, if by some miracle we won, she would be remembered by one or two people as Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend. She would fade with those that had a faint memory and would become a name on a wall with thousands and thousands and thousands of others.

If we lost, we would all be forgotten. Ashes in a world ruled by You-Know-Who. All of us, regardless of what we tried to do.

"If he wins, then it won't matter if we go or not. At least if we go then we'll have a chance at going back to normal."

"Normal?" The pot the food was in fell and shattered as she threw her arms out and grabbed my shoulders. "How is everything going to go back to normal? Four of my children are dead. Things will never go back to normal."

Sometime during all that, Dad had stood up. He pried Mum off me and held her close to him as she sobbed.

It's funny how, sometimes, you can handle death and suffering and pain without being torn; but seeing emotion from someone you love is the worst.

It was Fred who took my arm and let me out of the room, telling Bill quietly on the way out that we were going upstairs.

We didn't talk much at first. I just sat on my old bed and stared at nothing. Everything was exactly as I'd left it, down to the robe that I had left strewn on the floor the day we left.

Fred's eyes were glazed over; he reminded me of Harry. Neither of them had many traces of humanity left.

"Why do people have hope?" he asked quietly. His gaze hadn't moved from the window. "Do people actually believe that we can win this?"

I remembered back to the campfire. Harry had seemed so adamant on us finding our own reasons to fight by coming home... all this made me want to do was stay here as not to kill my Mum. I swore at him silently. "I don't think that anyone believes we can win, no. But we have to try."

Fred nodded. "We tried two months ago. The Order, I mean. Didn't get past the first set of guards. They brought those of us that were alive inside and toyed with us. Tortured us. After they'd had their fun they took those that had begged for death and made us watch as they killed those that had been defiant. Laughed at us and let us go." He paused and looked at me. It was funny how I found relief in the fact that there were tears in his eyes; Harry wouldn't have cried. None of us would anymore. That made us different from this world, setting the difference that I could lean on when things became too heavy. "They put me under the imperious. I killed George."

I wasn't surprised about how little emotion I felt. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know. I know. I've been told that and I know it. It's more than that. It's the image that keeps coming back; when the curse lifted and I looked down to see a bloody knife in my hand and my twin dead in front of me. That's what I will always remember, not the blame and where it lays."

There was nothing to say. I walked over to my desk and opened the drawers, pulling out old notebooks and texts. "It seems like we wasted a lot of time, doesn't it," I asked Fred, who watched me with tears running down his face. "We spent so many years studying useless things. If I could go back, I'd have learned the things that would help us survive, and not how to turn a match into a needle."

Fred smiled through his tears. "If I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing. Maybe I'd have changed the ending, but I never would give up what I had for those years. Never."

"You wouldn't stop yourself from being caught?" I asked, trying not to laugh. "You wouldn't have pulled one more prank or gotten out of detention?"

"No. I'd do it all again exactly the way I did. We had it all."

We had it all. I couldn't help but laugh out loud this time, remembering all the good times we had had at Hogwarts.

Fred stood up and walked over, going through the old books with me. "Merlin, they taught us useless drabble. 'Chapter Seventeen- Shining Charms'. Wonderful, you can make Lucius Malfoy's hair look even more wonderful as he tries to kill you."

The baby started to scream downstairs. Fred shrugged. "You'd think for something so small, it would be a bit quieter. Merlin knows how Mum handled all of us at the same time."

I looked to the corner. The small clock that some Uncle or Aunt had given me one Christmas read eleven. Five hours until we had to meet back with Harry.

"You're going to go, right?" Fred asked, still looking through the charms book. "You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you don't."

"Yeah." I looked at a Cannons poster, probably too intently for Fred to buy it, but he didn't say anything. "Not like it will make any difference, but I'll go."

He walked to the door, but hesitated before leaving. "It may not make a difference in the scheme of things, no. But it makes a world of difference to something much smaller and much more important."

Fred left the room, leaving me alone and staring at the poster. How was it that I'd been completely obsessed with a team that lost like the Cannons? Why couldn't I have picked a winning team and been able to celebrate in the end, instead of just left waiting and praying for something that wouldn't come?

I swore and ripped the poster down on an impulse. There was no more quidditch anymore, anyhow. The league had disbanded four months ago, and it was unlikely that Voldemort would open it back up when he controlled the world.

It was all the same in the room. Things that had no importance anymore... mostly Cannons memorabilia and school things. Gryffindor colors. Not that bravery was held in the high regard it once was. All it did was get you killed faster.

There was nothing left in the room. It was easy to leave behind.

Mum was cleaning the dishes silently, tears running down her face while Bill and Fleur sat next to one another holding the baby and speaking gently to one another. Dad and Fred were nowhere to be seen.

"So what's the bugger's name?" I asked gently, sitting down across from my brother and sister-in-law. Fleur looked up at me and smiled.

"Ginevra Gabrielle. We named 'er after the two women who meant ze most to us."

I felt stupid looking at the baby. Last time I'd seen either of the parents was at the wedding—the day we'd left, which was ten months prior. Until Fleur had come downstairs a few hours back I had no idea I'd even had a niece.

"Er... hello, Ginny," I said, feeling stupid. Apparently the baby thought so too, because she looked at me all funny. I really wasn't sure how to deal with children. "How are you?"

Fleur laughed and pulled the baby back to her. "'old out your arms, like zes."

I mimicked her, and she put Ginny into my arms. "What if she doesn't like me?"

"She won't unless you loosen up a bit," Bill said from behind me. "Relax. She wants to be comfortable."

I remember Seamus talking about his nephew's birth, and how he said your world changed when you held the baby the first time. I didn't feel anything but awkward. Apparently the baby agreed, because she began to squirm and look pleadingly at her mother.

Fleur seemed to understand. "Ere. She is probably 'ungry anyhow."

The three of them faded back into their own little world.

"Don't worry, she didn't like any of us the first time either." Dad announced from the doorway. He and Fred walked in and sat down across from me. "It takes a while, but she gets used to you. She learns to trust you. After time, she'd trust you with her life."

"Except we don't have time." I muttered. Dad looked a bit lost while Fred shook his head.

"We do. We have this time right now, don't we?" Fred asked. "I know it sucks that life has come at us so soon, but we don't have a choice. Better to meet it then to run from it and die in some cold room, completely alone."

I nodded, not really listening. Outside the window, I could see countless stars shimmering in a moonless sky.

"Have you found it yet?"

I looked back at my brother. "Found what?"

He sighed, but I could tell it wasn't out of exasperation; rather out of a fatigue of life. "Your reason for going tomorrow, like Harry asked."

"I'm going because I don't have a choice!" I yelled, feeling trapped. "What am I supposed to do, sit here and wait for Voldemort to come to our front door and kill me? I may as well go tomorrow and die, that way at least I can prove to myself that I'm brave, even though even that doesn't mean anything anymore!"

Fred stared at me looking completely disappointed. "You've already lost. You may as well go tomorrow, you're as good as dead."

"Stop!" Dad yelled, looking back at Mum.

The funny thing was that Mum didn't look stricken anymore. She looked almost determined. Walking towards us, she stopped to take out a small photo album and opened it on the table in front of me. "Do you know who these people are?" she asked, her voice even for the way that her hand shook. Dad had gone white.

I looked down. They were two boys, twins, who were laughing at something. "No."

"Those are my brothers." She said simply. I stared at her; she had never mentioned that we had any uncles.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett. They were three years older than me, members of the Order of the Phoenix." She paused. "Like your brothers, they loved pranks and jokes—real and true people. Brave like no one else I could imagine, the true epitome of Gryffindor. That was the problem. Dumbledore asked them to go on a mission a few years before you were born, Ron. They did, and the Dark Lord found out about it. They were..." she stopped, catching her breath. "To this day, their murders are two of the most publicized and gruesome."

"How is this supposed to help me?" I asked, feeling like I should be feeling a lot more. Mum looked directly at me.

"They both were tortured and left to die. By the time Dumbledore got there, Gideon was dead, but Fabian was still alive. Able to tell him one last thing with his dying breath—'I'd do it again'. Through all the pain and all the emotional hell he had been through, he said he would do it again; serve the Order again. That's why I was always hesitant about letting the lot of you join and serve. I didn't want to go through it again. I wasn't Gryffindor enough."

I looked back down to the two laughing men. They acted like nothing was wrong, like life was perfect—and for them, trapped in that moment, it was.

That moment could have been the best of their lives. What if it was? They had died for times like these; times that made life seem perfect.

I flipped to the last page in the book and had to laugh at the final photograph.

It was from the wedding, ten months before.

It was everyone. My family and the Order and Ministry members and Hermione and Harry...

That had been the best day of my life. No one had stopped laughing the entire time, stopped joking, stopped talking...

It was the last picture that would ever be taken of my sister. Or my three brothers. Or the majority of the Order. Or Harry smiling.

Most likely, the last intentional photograph of the three of us.

If I could go back to one day in my life, that would be it.

Slowly, I took the cover off and picked the photo up. Everyone was smiling, remembering the perfect day. I held it tight in my hand.

It all rested on tomorrow. Everything rested on tomorrow. Either way this photograph could never be replicated, but if there was any chance that the rest of us ever could take another, smiling just like that...

Life wasn't about the Cannons winning or schoolwork getting done. It wasn't about the things being said or done, or what state the world was in.

It was about the one or two days you'd never forget in your lifetime.

If there was even a chance that we could have them again...

I stood up, looking to my family. Fred smiled blankly. "You found it, I guess."

"Yeah."

Mum nodded slowly, standing up and holding me tight. "I love you."

Dad smiled a moment before breaking and joining in on the hug.

As they pulled away, I turned to the new family. "You guys be good, okay? Don't teach that one any bad habits."

They both nodded. Fleur tightened Ginny to her chest.

I faced Fred. "Take care of everyone."

He put a hand on my shoulder, tightening it just enough so that I could feel that he was right there.

"Give them hell for us."

With the memory of Fred's proudest moment flying through my head, I nodded back and walked to the fireplace. Taking the last of the powder, I called out the place I knew Harry would be and held my hand out.

I let the photograph fall to the floor as I was swept away. All the while I was remembering the three of us only ten months prior, sitting at the edge of a table, laughing at something that with time had become nothing.

The best moment of my life.


End Part 2/4

Notes: I know I said this would be a one-shot, but due to the demand and the intrest I took in this story on my hiatus from Parallel Dreams, I've decided to extend it to each of the trio and then the final battle scene.