Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Meant to put this up just after Christmas, but life sometimes gets in the way of one's hobbies. First part has Ron and Ginny meet up late on Christmas Eve night while following Harry and Hermione to the Potters' gravesite, while Ron confesses to leaving Harry and Hermione, and the two siblings bond over their shared exeriences with Horcruxes. The second part involves Ron spilling the beans to Ginny on proposing to Hermione.
PS: I do not own these characters, or for that matter a song by Paul McCartney that briefly makes an appearance.
Chapter 5:
New Beginnings
9:
The eerie silence of the falling snow muffled the sound.
With a quiet whoomph, Ron's feet struck the powdery layer in the middle of the main street of Godric's Hollow. He nodded in satisfaction as he saw two familiar forms a couple of hundred metres ahead of him pass through the kissing gate that lead to the graveyard. That was good, there was just one more to join them….
Sure enough, a sound similar to a small firecracker suddenly erupted from behind his back, telling him that Ginny had arrived as well. He turned as she brushed some snow off her gloves, shivering. "Bloody cold," she muttered. "They're already here?" Ron nodded and gestured his way along towards the cemetery where Hermione had told him to rendezvous by midnight. He looked at his watch. Thirty minutes to midnight – and to Christmas.
The end of an utterly exhausting year was nigh.
Ginny let out a sudden exclamation and Ron whirled round, launching his hand into his jacket pocket where his wand was stored as he turned to face his challenger.
A dilapidated, two-storey house, with almost the entire façade of the upper floor blown away, along with the rafters.
"Ginny! Look," he whispered, pointing to the graffitied sign that had formed in front of them. Covered in luminescent graffiti, some of it from since the defeat of Voldemort, some of it from before then. He smiled as he remembered how touched Harry had been by the supportive messages scrawled there, and also snorted to himself as he recalled Hermione's appalled face as she told him that Harry hadn't realised Godric's Hollow was Godric Gryfifndor's birthplace.
On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,
Lily and James Potter lost their lives.
Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever
to have survived the Killing Curse.
This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left
in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters
And as a reminder of the violence
that tore apart their family.
Of course, Harry had now survived the Killing Curse twice, and he'd well and truly gained a family, but it was still sobering thinking about the what-ifs.
What if Lily and James had brought their young son over to the Burrow? Might he and Ron have become the closest friends anyone could ask for? Would there have been birthday parties to go to, with no need to break Harry out from Privet Drive? Would Harry have had brothers and sisters, some of them with vivid red hair? Would Harry have still gotten together with Ginny? How would his personality have been different without the physical and mental scars of this tragedy?
It hurt the head just thinking about it. But Ron's mind was still in overdrive.
Harry had mentioned visiting Godric's Hollow at the time of Dumbledore's funeral, and had finally done so the previous Christmas. How terribly had he been faring the evening he'd come across the place where his parents had been murdered – where it had all for better or worse had begun - with no-one but a demoralised and heartbroken Hermione to keep him company?
He glanced to his left and saw that Ginny's eyes had narrowed as she surveyed the upper floor of the Potter's house, then at the sign.
"To think that I used to just stare at his scar," she whispered – sounding near tears. "You and I know what it cost him, but…seeing it in person….."
"I know," Ron sighed. He was having a hard time getting out of his head the vivid memory of his bellowing at Harry the night he'd left them.
"It's all right for you two, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way-"
"My parents are DEAD!"
Words born out of terror, fatigue, jealousy and frustration, but propelled by a casual cruelty that was so foreign to him, yet so familiar also….
"It was just him and Hermione, wasn't it?" Ginny whispered. "Harry and Hermione both said something about you being sick, splinched and unable to travel…."
Ron's heart skipped a beat as he turned to stare at her guiltily. He'd never broached the subject of what the Locket had done to him except for with Harry, Hermione, and of course, Bill and Fleur. He felt a surge of gratitude for his girlfriend and for his best mate, but he didn't deserve their protection. He was the only one to leave the group.
"Well, I was, in a manner of speaking," he stammered. Ginny's face contracted into a scowl. "What's that supposed to mean?" she queried, suspicion lacing every syllable.
Suspicion and terror.
"I broke my promise to you," he muttered to the ground, kicking up snow with a furious abandon.
"What happened to you?"
He froze in shock as sheer, blinding relief swept through him. Of course Ginny would understand. Her tone, contrary to his fears, wasn't accusatory.
"I had a row. With Harry. And, I guess Hermione too. I….I stormed out on them." The burning sensation at the back of his throat, kept at bay since the day of Fred's funeral, was returning with a vengeance. He shivered and turned away, closing his eyes. He did not want to see Ginny's reaction.
"Look at me." Her voice was surprisingly small and mild.
He did not move.
"Look at me, Ron."
Reluctantly, Ron turned back to face her, surreptitiously wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
Her face was ashen, but also lined and determined.
"Please tell me that there was more to this than just coldness and exasperation."
"How do you mean?"
"Oh, you know, aside from a splinching injury, fatigue, fear, misplaced jealousy, lack of sleep, sexual frustration…."
"Hold it right there," Ron interrupted, his ears beginning to burn despite the serious situation and the cold.
"I mean Voldemort, for pity's sake," Ginny shot back, stamping her foot exasperatedly. "What did he do?"
In the end, it was just easier to tell her all about it. How it had amplified every negative trait, memory or fear that was already in his head. The jealousy about being the 'least-loved' sibling. How Ginny had gotten her dinner first when they were little, and how he wasn't nearly as talented and popular as the Twins. Or as cool as Bill. How Hermione had, he'd feared, been preferring time with Harry instead of him. And naturally, fear for his entire family's safety, including of course Ginny. How, in the days before he'd left, an ominous voice had begun interrupting his dreams. Murmurings of how Harry and Hermione were hooking up as he slept. How unloved and alone he was. How the only thing that mattered was power. Most ominously, the voice inside him that was ringing in his ears, encouraging him to teach Harry a lesson once and for all as both he and Harry had whirled their wands on each other in the heat of the moment.
…..
"So you mean to say," Ginny interrupted some time later, "you ran into a Dark object, a portion of his soul, and just carried it round on your person? Haven't you learned anything?"
"Do you mean-" Ron began.
"From me!" Ginny exclaimed, grabbing a handful of snow, and with furious precision hitting Ron full in the face. "I could have warned you!"
"But it got to me first. I nearly cursed Harry…."
"Because it fed on all your insecurities, Ron. You thought that they were shutting you out, but maybe you were steadily removing yourself from their midst without realizing it because of the Locket. That was what the Diary did to me. Make no mistake, Hermione tells me that she even began to pack one night she was on watch before she took the damn thing off in time."
"But that was after I'd hurt them by leaving!"
"No. Beforehand."
Ron whistled as Ginny slid her hand out to enclose his. As one, they stared at the ruined house, Ron musing to himself at his and Harry's potential fates if Hermione had left them in the lurch.
"You've been beating yourself up over what you did for a whole year, Ron," she said softly. "Hermione's forgiven you, and funnily enough, Harry's still grateful for you pulling him out of that frozen pond. They never would have lied for you to me about it if they hadn't exonerated you. Let it go."
They smiled at each other, then Ginny cleared her throat while letting go of Ron's hand.
"You need to talk to Percy about this," she added. "You saw how he was last week back at the Burrow. Every morning, he wakes up and blames himself for Fred's death."
"But…that's ridiculous!" Ron spluttered. "He wasn't responsible for…."
"But he did leave us in the lurch during a war," Ginny pointed out. "He's still struggling with his guilt over that, too. Just like you."
He shivered as he looked down the street towards the graveyard and war memorial.
"Why didn't Hermione tell me?"
"She thought you'd be ashamed of her."
"Why?" Ron shot back. "I was the only one who actually followed through on those impulses." Ginny gave him a pitying glance.
"Please tell me that one day you two are actually going to act like a couple and actually communicate properly on these matters. You two both deserve each other – you're too stubborn for your own bloody good."
Ron laughed as he wiped his face free of snowflakes as they approached the war memorial. He swallowed as he passed the dilapidated, half-wrecked house that had once belonged to Bathilda Bagshot; the damage put there by Hermione's blasting curse. Even though Bathilda's remains had been long since removed, it was sickening to realise what events had occurred in that house.
"So you returned," Ginny whispered beside him. "That's what matters."
Ron smiled to himself and continued on, the memory of his use of the Deluminator warming his insides.
"Returned to them with a bit of help from Dumbledore," he added, raising the miniscule object he'd been carrying for the whole of the day. It somehow felt appropriate, almost exactly a year on…
"Did he gift that to you?" Ginny queried, eyeing the object with fascination. "How did it guide you to them?"
Ron smirked as he turned to face her. "That, sis, is a fascinating story…..for another time."
She scowled at him but declined to press him further.
"I know it's about Hermione. Not sure I want to press for details, actually. At least it's better than Harry and Hermione. Seriously, Ron, did you see how hopeless Harry was during our last few practices in Sixth Year? He's as subtle as Grawp if he's interested in someone."
"Well, no," Ron admitted. "My mind was…..elsewhere at the time."
"Fair enough," grinned Ginny, turning her eyes to the memorial. Her grin faded as it began to morph from a granite obelisk into three human-like forms. For the first time, Ron saw Harry's face carved into stone; this had to be James Potter. Beside him was Lily, kind-faced and beautiful even in statue form. In her arms lay the infant Harry, with no scar yet engraved on his forehead. So much joy and innocence…..the sort that Harry until very recently had never known.
"How old were they?" Ginny whispered. "Early twenties, weren't they?"
"Twenty-one," Ron breathed. "They were so young, fighting in the Order…."
"Like we were any different," replied Ginny. "We've fought a lifetime of battles and we're not even twenty."
After a few minutes of silent reflection, Ginny tugged on Ron's arm and they made their way towards the kissing gate entrance.
The lights in the nearby church were still on; and Ron heard snatches of the bars of Angels We Have Heard On High. How must have Harry and Hermione felt on this spot a year ago, hearing the sounds of celebrating new life and new hope for the first time in months, when doom and gloom was surrounding them?
Tiptoeing past some of the graves (Ron briefly paused when he saw a familiar surname such as 'Abbott,' 'Peverell' and 'Dumbledore,') he came to the spot where Harry and Hermione were. Harry was crouching in front of the grave while Hermione held back slightly.
"It's funny," Ginny remarked in the quietest whisper from behind him. "All those years ago, I absolutely knew I was alone, during my time with the Diary."
"You never were," he replied. "We didn't know it at the time, but we never were."
"Exactly," smiled Ginny, squeezing his arm.
At the sound of the muffled conversation, Harry sniffed slightly, wiped his nose, and got to his feet, his face breaking into a wide smile.
"Welcome to where I was born," he whispered.
"What, in the middle of a church graveyard on Christmas Eve?" Ginny shot back. "Skip the theatrics, Potter." Ron, Hermione and Harry let out a snort, all of them sobering as Hermione leaned forwards and with a gentle, elegant wave, a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed out of mid-air.
"Here's to tradition," Harry whispered as he caught them and gently arranged them on his parents' gravesite. He once more got to his feet and hugged Ron firmly; Ron suddenly felt his eyes water, and he knew that from the lingering contact, Harry felt that gravity of this Christmas Eve every bit as much as he did. Harry then turned to Ginny as Ron greeted his girlfriend (even thinking of that phrase still made his heart skip a beat) with a quick peck on the cheek.
"I'm glad I returned as myself this time," Harry said quietly, scanning the graveyard. "It just didn't feel right the other time, did it, Hermione?"
Hermione let out a soft chuckle. "No offence Harry, but I didn't exactly fancy being your wife for the evening." At that, Ginny dug her elbow into Ron's stomach and wriggled her eyebrows triumphantly in an I-told-you-so manner. "Shut it," he mouthed at her, but she now only had eyes for Harry, who had turned to face her.
"Fair point," Harry added. "I wasn't exactly handsome that evening."
"No doubt about it," teased Ginny. "I'm sure you looked suitably hideous for the occasion."
Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and went forward for a kiss.
"Do I have to see this?" Ron complained, jumping as he was hit with a snowball by Hermione.
"Children, children," Ginny admonished, breaking away from Harry's embrace. "Not here. Anyone fancy eggnog at the Burrow?" she added, as her stomach let out a loud rumble resembling that of Ron's.
"Sounds good," beamed Hermione, linking her arms with Harry and Ron, Ginny joining in on Harry's end. As one, they made their way towards the cemetery entrance as a clock began to chime midnight.
"I'm sorry I wasn't with you two," whispered Ron. "I know I've said it before, but…"
"I'm not," Harry shot back. "Hermione had such difficulty rescuing me, I think maybe saving two people was beyond even her. Am I right, Hermione?"
"Probably," admitted Hermione to the night. "You didn't miss out on much, Ron, rest assured."
They entered onto the main street. As the looked up and down it, a burst of noise emanated from the pub as several stragglers emerged, singing their own discordant carols. Ron could make out some of the lyrics of the carol the pub was playing.
The mood is right
The spirit's up
We're here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime.
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime.
"Amen to that," nodded Ginny in satisfaction. "Where do we want to go?"
"Just behind this tree should be enough," whispered Hermione, darting behind it with the other three. Making sure that no doors or windows on the main street remained open, they once more linked arms.
With a muffled whump, the four vanished.
10:
Ginny had just started to busy herself for bed, pouring out a final cup of steaming tea, grimacing slightly at a brief sharp pain in her stomach, when vivid green flames erupted in the fireplace.
"Ron?" she queried as her ashen-faced brother wiped his sooty hands on his robes. He looked quite animated by something, but he was clearly having trouble processing the words for them.
Deciding the best course of action was to steer him to the sofa, she leaned forward.
"So what happened?" she asked, her curiosity heightened b his bizarre behaviour. "Something involving Hermione?"
Ron nodded as Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"What exactly did Hermione do to you the other night?" she added, amusement softly entering her voice.
Ron swallowed then finally found his words.
"IjustproposedtoHermioneontopofStoatshedHill, andshesaidyes."
"Slowly, Ronald, slowly," Ginny chided gently. "Last night you….oh!"
Ron let out a sigh, seemingly calming down. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, it's official."
Ginny let out a squeak that was most unlike her and effectively tackled Ron.
"Geroffme!" he protested, and Ginny did so, vainly attempting to contain her enthusiasm.
"Ron….that's wonderful," she finally managed, gasping again as another wave of pain radiated from her stomach.
"Ginny…" Ron had noticed. "What happened? Are you, you know…."
"No, we're not expecting, yet," Ginny laughed. "Just a Bludger injury. And speaking for expecting….Merlin knows how I'll cope should you have kids. Bickering like mad, smart as their mother, and with an endless supply of swearwords."
"That's what Harry said already," Ron sighed. "Not that you're one to talk, Gin."
"Forget it. When's Hermione coming over?"
"She needed to be in bed early for a Wizengamot case tomorrow morning on the territory rights of the Hogwarts Centaurs," Ron yawned.
"So how did you propose?" Ginny asked.
"With a fake Galleon," Ron replied, his pride in pulling it off blindingly obvious. "George's idea. With his help, it transforms into a ring the moment the girl you're proposing to touches it. Cool no?"
"Excellent idea, Ron," she grinned. "Make sure you slip one into Harry's pocket someday. It'll be amusing to see him have to suddenly propose again on the spot if I 'inadvertently' touch it."
Ron chuckled as she continued.
"So, I know that proposals often revolve around the time you first met or fell in love. Did you invite Krum along?"
"Shut it," Ron growled, his ears burning incandescent.
"Or did you just…I dunno, rub dirt on your nose or something?"
"What….how do you know…"
"Hermione told me that was her first proper memory of you. An obnoxious little git, stuffing sweets into his mouth, and with dirt on your nose. Just there," she mimicked.
"Bugger off," Ron muttered, his entire face now burning. "I didn't do that, for the record. I'll remember to ensure she doesn't hang out with you as much. Sisters corrupting girlfriends and all that."
"Oh no," Ginny remarked. "Sisters corrupting fiancées. Get it right, ickle Ronniekins."
"So when's Harry getting back?" interrupted Ron. Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "He's usually a late worker. How about a toast or six in the meantime?" she suggested, whirling her wand and Summoning two glasses of Ogden's Firewhisky.
"Excellent idea."
"Just remember," she chuckled, "I'm going soft on you. Compared to tonight and at Harry's and my engagement, you're going to have the mother of all hangovers at the end of your engagement party."
"Are you ever going to change?" Ron complained, downing his first sip. Ginny mock-considered him for a moment.
"Let me see….no. You won't either, so we're even."
"Fair enough," chuckled Ron, holding his glass aloft. "To us."
"I'll drink to that."
Such was the Weasley way.