Chapter 38 – I'm glad you enter my feelings

Harry and Ron were sat at the opposite side of the kitchen table. From the window Albus, who had remerged from his hiding place, and Rose, were talking under the cherry tree with grave faces, glancing nervously at the two of them now and then. James had joined them at first, but Harry had reminded him about being grounded and scowling he was back in his room where the next second loud deafening music erupted from it. Harry decided to overlook it in the wish of not to be overheard in his conversation with Ron. A conversation he didn't want to have but couldn't refuse; Ron had almost begged him.
Although, now that he had accepted to hear him out, Ron was silent. And probably for the best. In Harry's point of view there was absolutely nothing he could say or do to change the situation they were in.
The clock was ticketing enlightening even more the silence surrounding them. Harry was almost about to broke it with a nasty remark when Ron spoke first 'Harry, I thought very often about what to tell you in case I would endeavour you to hear me out, but now all I wanted to say seems so weak' he paused not meeting his eyes. True to be told Harry didn't have an expression that invited friendliness, more a forbidding one to discourage any possible hope of a reconciliation.
'Probably I just want to appease my conscience…'
'Probably' Harry snapped interrupting him.
'…but I promise you there is not a day in which I don't think about it…'
'You are lucky, because for me, there is not even a minute' he interjected irritation swelling.
'…I don't know how to apologise enough. I didn't mean to; it was an accident...'
'Can I remind you that was an accident due to your wish to torture me or perhaps even to kill me?'
'…and now I've got this guilt devouring me…'
'Poor Ron! Must be dreadful' he mocked him nastily, patience running out.
'I'm sorry Harry! I'm truly sorry! What can I do to make you forgive me?' he burst out forgetting his rehearsed speech under Harry's bitter remarks. He took his head in his hands, crumpling on himself, losing the composure he was trying to maintain. His dejection had only the power of enraging Harry. It was as though, in everybody's eyes, Ron was the victim and he the torturer while it was exactly the other way around. Why only because he didn't show his grief openly as Ron did, everybody thought that he was the one to protect and to fuss over?
Harry crossed his arms on his chest forbiddingly and stared at his ex-best mate; a part of him beseeched to grasp this chance to make up and get him back but it was an impotent part. The other, had Lily written on it that couldn't be cancelled. This was the part that was dominating right now.
'Ron, I want to help you to understand' he said conciliatory.
Ron halted and looked at him, his change of tone giving him a false hope.
'Let me see, how I can explain it to you…' he said in deep reflection and then smirked 'Gotcha' and looking fixedly at him without dropping his smirk 'Let's say that today, when I saw you and I was so enraged, instead of charging you, I would have taken out my wand to curse you, and just suppose that Rose, your precious daughter that you love with all yourself, decided she wanted to protect you'
He paused as Ron was staring at him with round eyes knowing already where he wanted to get.
'and just suppose that by mistake, totally accidentally of course, I would have killed her, in front of you' Ron's eyes teared up immediately under Harry's expression that had lost his smirk in favour of a profound malevolence.
'and you would know that you will never hear her voice or see her again, and we are speaking about your Rose, that you are so proud of, that you would die for and that make you feel as though your life had been worth despite everything you suffered in your past, all the struggles and afflictions, everything had been worth not because you defeated a dark wizard but because you have been able to create something so amazing as her'
As he was speaking his voice had started to rise unwarily, he had stood up, throning on Ron who was still crumpled on his chair, distraught. He halted sensing this, realising that he was somehow losing control revealing more of his feelings that he wanted to share with him or anybody else. He, then, sat down again, taking a deep breath to cool down. Ron was aghast, his watery gaze fixed on him. Harry continued with a smile 'Let's just suppose, for the sake of a chat, that she is dead by my hand. How would you feel?'
Ron gaped at him blinking fast to drive away his tears. He let his head drop defeated 'I'd want to kill you' he admitted under his voice.
Harry nodded 'I'm glad you enter my feelings'

And he was again with his back in front of the closed door.
'Ginny, come on'
She was still in there; Ron's words hadn't sorted any effect.
He was gone, and this time Harry hoped forever. He made his point and Ron had finally understood there was nothing he could try to be forgiven. Ron had been wrong in looking for an exchange with him. It was too soon. Lily's birthday was too near. Seven months were too short a time to expect him to be over it. What has been reported in the interview had given him hope, a hope that Harry has soon swept away explaining the reason why he had reported what he did and had also threatened him sternly not to try something so egoistic as to do himself in again. And if he did, he promised, he would have gone to look for him in hell to kick his arse.
And those were his parting words; they were gone soon after. Harry observed them from the window, Ron keeping Rose hand in his own, and he resented him that possibility, but at the same time he was sorry for his inability of forgiving him. He knew he would probably have felt better in doing so but it was impossible. Would it change in future? Difficult to say but right then he needed somebody to hate. A person that embodied all it was wrong, all the faults. A scapegoat. Like Ron had hated him for no real reason before Christmas just to vent out his frustration, now in a way, Harry was doing the same. He was aware of it, but it didn't change much. The rancour was too great, the sorrow too strong, it helped him to have somebody to throw the fault on not to throw it on himself.
Therefore, he watched him disapparate, feeling relieved in having him out of his sight, feeling bitter in his resentment but the lingering feeling, in the end, was dejection.
'Ginny, you'll have to come out sooner or later' he said banging at the door.
And it was probably going to be sooner.
That room, unlike the one in London, hadn't any en-suite and with the pregnancy she was going to the toilet approximately every thirty second. It was a wonder she had lasted that long already; she was bound to emerge very soon.
While he was planning to get in from the window, the door opened suddenly. Only his ready reflex prevented him from smashing his head on the tiled floor.
Ginny stepped over him without a word going straight for the bathroom.
'You'll find it locked. I've got the key. You'll have to speak to me if you want to get inside' he bellowed after her.
No answer came back and after a few seconds he heard the entrance door bang. He hurried there and from the window saw Ginny walking briskly toward the wilderness.
He smiled.
I could have chosen a tame wife. An accommodating submissive woman that would have worshipped me as embodiment of perfection, instead I chose a headstrong, stubborn one… Too bad.
As he caught up with her, she was crouching on the ground ready to relieve herself.
'Ginny, talk to me' he entreated her 'I explained you how it is. Ron did it too. You can ask Ted; he'll tell you the same. You can ask even James for heaven's sake! It was beyond my control'
She didn't answer, staring grumpily at the ground. Harry looked at her who didn't show any reaction to his words whatsoever, silent and immobile but, at the same time, she wasn't even doing what she was there for.
'Well? Didn't you have to wee?' he asked.
'I cannot if you stare at me' she muttered grudgingly.
Harry smirked and crouched in front of her.
'I'll go away if you tell me that you know I'm not to blame'
Pause. Reflection. 'I know you are not to blame'. The necessity to wee was impellent apparently.
'Good. And now that you love me'
Pause. Reflection. 'I love you' she grunted grumpily. Very impellent.
'And now I want a kiss'
Pause. Reflection. Reflection again. A quick peck followed, as she returned to stare the ground. Near explosion basically.
'Very nice. And now I want you to tell me that I'm the handsomest, as well as, the best husband in the whole wide world'
She pushed him impatient 'Harry, go away!' she ordered.
Harry laughed 'Ok I'm going. I'll prepare some dinner. You can come and use the toilet inside if you want'
'No, I'll do it here' she answered stubbornly.
'As you wish' he said conciliatory walking back to the house.
He found himself lost in a kitchen where he didn't know where anything was. He had to use 'Accio' to find everything he needed to prepare some dinner.
They consumed it under the porch. And Ginny, after some steady attention and tenderness from his part, dropped her frown and regained her smile. James, however, was still in a grump of his own, and Albus seemed, judging by his appetite and unstoppable chat, the only one not having a worry in the world if not approaching puberty.

I'm in a dark room. I've got a rope in my hands. Ron is in front of me, standing on a stool. He is speaking to me while I'm braiding a slipknot.
'You stole my family' he says while I approach him.
'You stole my sister' he states while I slid the nose around his neck.
'You stole my house' while I tight the cord over a rafter and I fasten it.
'You stole my wife' while I look at him in the eyes and I tighten the knot.
'You stole my life' while I kick the stool from under his feet.