Voices were clamoring, bodies shuffling about in a very cramped space not bigger than a closet. Moving might as well be impossible. It was pitch-black, not a thing comprehensible.
"Ginny? Are you here?"
"What happened?"
Stephen spun his head around. "I do not know!"
"Could you please tell me where my daughter is? She's not here!"
"I will get to that but—"
A fist struck him square in the jaw, dazing him for a good moment.
"My bad, mate."
Stephen rubbed his sore jaw. "Okay, everybody – calm down!"
As soon as he spoke those words, limbs stopped flailing along with the screams and yells.
"Good. Now—could whoever is closest to the door, open it?"
"Yeah, yeah I'll get right on that", that voice belonged to one of those variant Spider-Men.
Not a day passed without Stephen regretting ever bringing them along through the multiverse and the insanity that came with it.
The door was forced open and out they tumbled like a group of bowling-pins. As Stephen let his cape do the work for him, pulling him back up on his feet, he glanced over the miserable group he had ended up with; Molly Weasley, Peter Parker (well one of them at least, he could barely tell them apart), Clint Barton – Hawkeye, ludicrous name – and Fleur Delacour.
"Where the heck are we?" Parker frowned and started walking around.
Stephen recognized the place almost immediately.
"Knowhere."
Parker snorted, laughing uncontrollably. "Yeah no, I know! It's crazy right? I mean, where is nowhere? Is it just a plane that exists beyond our world or—"
Stephen shook his head. "No. Knowhere, it's the severed head of a celestial being… a safe haven for outlaws. You should find yourself right at home."
"Ha ha."
"What do we do?" asked Molly.
Every head turned her way.
"Yeah, good question", mumbled Barton, he seemed to be searching for something on his back only not to find it. "Damn it, my bow – I must've left it back there."
"Trust me, I do that all the time", said Parker, grinning weakly.
Barton raised a single eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, I left my webshooters in a bathroom stall once. That was so embarrassing."
Barton turned his head to Stephen. "Bathroom stall", he repeated blankly.
Stephen braced his forehead. "Okay, we're on Knowhere, that means everything should be fine. For as long as we have the Stones I can force reality together—"
Parker lit up.
"So it's fixed, reality is fixed?" he said, his voice so drowned in enthusiasm, it cracked mid-sentence.
Stephen glared at him, quickly growing impatient with him.
"No. It's not—imagine all matter is being held together by duct tape, and that duct tape can rupture at any moment", he said.
"Excuse me", piped Molly, looking very out-of-place but still with a stoic expression on her face. "I will not pretend I understand any of this, but I know we need to gather everyone. How do we do that?"
Stephen turned his head, looking curiously at her, admiring her plan to take action at once. "If we assume Earth is still where it should be, I can open a portal back to London."
"So everyone will be back together in no time?" questioned Parker.
Stephen rolled his eyes. "Yes. Except…"
Stephen felt a strange disturbance in the air, perhaps it was the coming future or something he didn't foresee. Something to do with Potter.
Perhaps the poor boy wouldn't get such an easy way out of this after all.
"Except for what?" Molly spluttered impatiently.
"Except for one little issue."
Parker crouched down on the ground in a resting pose, sighing, his mouth half-open.
"And that is, what?"
"I believe everything needs to take its natural course. Potter caused this, he's the one to clean this mess up, wherever he is", said Stephen. He felt his pocket to make sure the Stones were still there – they were. "It won't be easy. And in the end, someone has to make the right call. We'll do what we can, gather the others, the rest is up to him."
First her fingers moved, then her head and along with it her eyelids slid open.
She would've laughed if it weren't for the invisible blade drilling into her skull and that gut-wrenching feeling in her stomach.
A broad-shouldered man dressed in the dumbest costume imaginable smiled down at her, a silvery 'A' on his blue helmet also serving as a sort of mask, kept in place by a leathery chinstrap, and a big silver star on the blue torso, red and white stripes clashing underneath.
"At first I thought you weren't going to wake up", the man reached out a hand to her.
Ginny blinked.
She struggled at first to get what he was saying, the words sounded muddled but a few seconds later it hit her what he actually meant.
The ground around her was damp, almost entirely covered in brown needles. Rain poured from the sky, drops trickling down through the thick branches of a couple of firs above their heads, a couple hitting her exposed neck.
She took the man's hand and carefully stood up from the damp ground. Her head spun, she swayed to one side and was about to fall when the man caught her.
"Easy, ma'am. I'm not doctor, but perhaps you should sit down."
Ma'am?
Ginny threw a glance his way; he was acting so much like he was from a different decade.
"It's okay", she responded.
Ginny realized she still had her bridesmaids dress on – too bad it was all torn up and covered in splotches of red, not her own blood, she hoped.
"Ginny, you're well!" a head of blonde hair flew right in-front of her and blocked part of her vision as a pair of arms choked her.
She had no time to react or brace herself and almost got knocked back down into the ground, the lips that accidentally grazed past her mouth was the most unexpected part.
Luna wasn't trying to kiss her; she was confident it had been a crazy accident and it just happened.
Ginny had never thought of Luna in that way, but maybe in a dumb foolish way it made sense, instead she had been chasing boy after boy and when Harry started dating Hermione, she still held out hope, at least for a little while.
Their lips somehow met for a second, the touch felt dream-like but not in a good way… she felt weirded out, uncomfortable; at the same time, she wasn't against it. It was more of a peck than anything.
Luna smiled.
Ginny smiled back, and then turned her head to look around.
Aside from the star-spangled man, Luna and herself, a woman clad in all black rested casually against the trunk of a tree, her hair short and fiery red.
Her gaze was stuck looking off into the void somewhere, though it did look like she was intensely glaring at the tree trunk opposite of her and for some reason that thought made Ginny chuckle on the inside.
The man shook his head as if something had just distracted him. "Right, I don't believe we've been properly introduced; Steve Rogers."
"Ginny. This is Luna", Ginny peered at the woman dressed in black leather. For a split-second their eyes met, her eyes cold and intense, she was clearly in deep thought about something and from what Ginny could take away, none of it was nice.
"Nice to meet you Ginny, Luna", Rogers shook their hands with a smile. The glances Ginny were giving the woman had of course been picked up by him very quickly. "Oh don't worry, Natasha doesn't bite – much."
Ginny frowned and pondered what could make someone so emotionless and indifferent, but dared not to disturb the woman's thoughts.
"Anyway, I think we were separated from the others. If you're up for walking, we could try to find our way out of this forest", said Rogers.
It was brief but Ginny saw the concerned looks he exchanged with Natasha, who suddenly had pulled herself out of her void.
Thankfully Ginny despised heels and had opted not to wear any at the wedding, but the dress was a different story.
"Why not", said Natasha, pushing herself away from the tree. "Let's go."
Ginny tried to suppress a smile, feeling Luna's hand grasp onto hers as they started walking.
Basking in the sunrise, he sat on a wooden stump, watching Harry and Hermione and eating the sandwich Harry had forced into his hand. The two of them had been training, moving about outside for the past few days during this time at the day, whatever good that would do. Hermione threw a measly punch at Harry, missed and stumbled past him, almost right into the bushes.
But she was laughing. She was laughing with leaves stuck in her hair.
Ron shook his head.
He took a bite out of the sandwich although he didn't feel like eating anything. He still felt drained and tired, despite resting so bloody much. And all of the food and water shuffled onto him by Harry and Hermione… most of it he didn't touch since he knew it would be a horrible waste of the little rations they could gather, with Snatchers and all sneaking about.
"No, no you're doing it wrong. Hips square towards your opponent, feet planted in the ground."
"Like this?"
"Yeah!"
Ron didn't get the point of this, but his friends had fun doing complete tosh together, he supposed that was good, keeping their minds off other things.
He never joined them, and every time he declined, he felt like the walls between them became more obvious.
Staring off into the horizon, Ron wasn't paying much attention until he saw Hermione knock the daylights out of Harry, a stationary target, but… still – blimey.
Completely caught off guard, Harry fell to the ground.
"Ouch."
Roaring with laughter, Ron almost fell off his seat. Hermione seemed more concerned what she had done.
"You alright?" said Hermione, in an almost squeaking voice.
"Yeah. Yeah, no I'm fine", Harry said, pushing himself up from the ground.
"That looked nasty", Ron said with a grin.
Only answering with a somewhat annoyed groan, Harry attempted to get back up and slipped clumsily in the dew-kissed grass, Hermione joined in on the laughter, bending over double at the sight of him.
"Ha ha", Harry laughed sarcastically. "Come on, a few more times", he stood up, rubbing his jaw.
He raised his arms, clenched his fists, got into position and braced for another of Hermione's punches. He caught it seemingly with ease and pushed her back, maybe a bit too harshly. "A bit too predictable. Again, Hermione."
Hermione was losing patience.
"How is this fair?" Hermione, her voice rising a few octaves higher, gesturing frustratingly at him.
Harry was probably using his powers, Ron thought, to him Hermione must be so slow he could see it coming from the moment she moved a muscle.
"It's not. Try again. You did it one time, you can do it again."
"Okay."
Hermione planted her feet, steadied her arms and took a deep breath in. Ron expected another failed attempt, but when she swung, Harry was too focused on blocking the attack from above that he didn't see her leg shoot between his feet and twist around his ankle.
Harry lost his balance and fell with a softened thud into the grass, mercilessly Hermione casted herself at him, holding him down in the grass.
Hermione laughed triumphantly. "Do you yield, Spider-Man?" she said in a very over-the-top voice befitting a villain.
"Never!" Harry said jokingly and in that instant they rolled around, wrestling in the sparkly, golden grass, laughing uncontrollably. While they were tussling, the sun's golden rays occasionally hit them, the dew drenching their clothes.
A weak smile grew in the corner of Ron's mouth. He was happy for them, but at the same time he felt… not jealousy, but something reminding him of those feelings.
Eventually they had enough and approached Ron, Harry cheerfully hanging with one arm around Hermione's neck, who was still laughing quite a lot, both of them covered in wet splotches from rolling around in the grass.
They looked like a right pair, thought Ron. Absolutely mental, both of them.
"Ron, you coming? Thought we could go in and get breakfast", said Harry.
"Nah, I'm good", he waved with his half-eaten sandwich.
"You sure?"
"If the man doesn't want to, don't make him", said Hermione and kissed Harry on his temple.
A needle stung in Ron's heart watching them walk back into the house talking loudly with one other, wanting to give them space but at the same time – it was as if sometimes he didn't exist.
It confused him and he wondered if they were scared of him, of Snare. Or if he was just doing this to punish himself.
Even though he knew he ought not to, he watched them more than he would like to admit, telling himself he was doing it to keep an eye on them.
The following day he watched from the sidelines as Harry taught Hermione how to skip rocks across the rather large stream of water near the house, they seemed not to have noticed he was there as usual. During the evening he just about stopped himself to walk in on them cuddling in the couch – not that he meant to – and towards the following morning they were asleep in separate beds; Harry on a cot on the floor and Hermione on the one-man bed.
In the hazy grey light coming from outside, he briefly looked at them while his drowsy eyes adjusted to his surroundings.
Hermione lay burrowed under the covers, breathing silently, her hair a messy weave of brown threads spread over the pillow. Her arm hung limp over the edge of the bed, fingers just about touching Harry's hand. Every now and then her fingers twitched.
Ron knew how much Hermione worked herself up over any Death Eaters or Snatchers that could attack them in any moment, or even something worse, they had probably fallen asleep holding each other's hands.
Something welled up inside of him, a warm feeling which he couldn't put his finger on from where it came from. He liked this feeling, it was nice and cozy and for once something he could relate to.
Harry mumbled about something or other in his sleep. His hand clasped onto Hermione's.
Ron turned his head to look out the window. It was foggy today.
Grey and foggy, not exactly the most interesting weather but what did he really expect on a day in the middle of October?
He asked himself whether or not it was worth waking up at this hour, get some fresh air, stretch his legs for a bit, or maybe… too tired to think further about it, he cradled his pillow and drifted back off to sleep.
