Harry Potter 1. Prologue

Prologue

Sometimes you can just tell when a moment is going to change the rest of your life.

Despite his young age, Harry Potter had already had many of these moments…A Halloween night some 22 years ago. Meeting an eleven year-old Ron Weasley on the Hogwarts Express. The death of his godfather, Sirius Black, in his fifth year of school. A long-foretold prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. Kissing Ginny Weasley, the only woman that there would ever be for him, in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. The death of Albus Dumbledore.

These had been the moments that had really mattered, more so than any failed exam or quidditch win. These were the moments that he would carry with him all the days of his life, however much longer that it would last.

As he walked through the familiar, overgrown fields of his youth with the sun radiating down upon him, however, it became apparent to him that the following moments would be the most important of his life. All thoughts of Voldemort and prophecies went out the window as he realized that he had been placed on the earth not to be the savior of the wizarding world, but to be walking in this field towards his destiny, whatever it would be.

In the distance, a flash of red caught his eye and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Without thinking, he felt his pace quicken in the direction of the whirling ball of energy in the distance. As he neared, he watched the small figure stop and watch his approach. Despite the fact that he was a stranger, the child seemed to view him with unabashed curiosity and absolutely no fear.

As Harry stopped in front of her, he gazed upon the small girl who was looking defiantly up at him, wearing dirty, slightly too big jeans, a fading Chudley Cannons t-shirt, and a look that said "Approach at your own risk!" His heart clenched at the sight of the smattering of freckles on her face, the same freckles that he'd spent many hours in bed memorizing, as well as at the bright red hair that seemed to want to be anywhere but in the messy ponytail on top of her head. He smiled faintly, thinking of all the times he wished he could become lost in it, in her. Although the girl in front of him was not that same girl, he knew without a doubt that this small girl would one day become her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a warning sounded, yelling at him to turn around and run as fast as he could away from this girl in front of him, the girl who would be his future. If he ran now he could still save her.

Save her from loving him.

He thought briefly of said woman, who was probably waiting at home for him at this very moment, unsure of when or even if he would return. Knowing that she would wait forever for him as she told him every time he was whisked away from her against his will caused him to feel both great love and pain. If she even knew that he was considering sparing her the pain of always losing him and of loving him, she would probably shake her head and walk away, muttering something about his ever-present hero complex, because they both knew how silly it was.

"_How could I even think of living a life separate from you, Harry?" she had asked him once. "Life without you isn't life. I've loved you for so long that I don't know—don't want to know—who I am without you. Your love is what keeps me here in this world just as my love for you keeps you coming home to it."_

"Hello. My name is Ginny Weasley," the child spoke, startling him out of his thoughts. "If you're here to see my daddy, he's at work right now. He works at the Migistry of Majet." He almost laughed at her mistake, but stopped before he did. He didn't want to insult his future wife the first time that they met.

Instead, he kneeled down on one knee to look her in the eye. "I'm actually not here to see your father. I'm here to meet you." He held out his hand for her smaller one to shake.

"My name is Harry Potter."

-------

If you would ask anyone, they would say that Ginny Weasley fell in love with Harry Potter the moment she saw him on Platform 9 and 3/4 when dropping her brother Ron off to begin his first year at Hogwarts. Only Ginny knew that it had happened long before then, on a warm summer day when she was playing alone in the fields surrounding the Burrow and she noticed a tall, dark-haired figure walking towards her. At that same moment in a cupboard under the stairs elsewhere in England, a young Harry Potter was sitting silently, longingly listening to the happy sounds of the family he was excluded from eating supper, completely unaware of how his life was changing at that moment without him.

Even at the age of six, Ginny knew that the man walking towards her would be important. Although he was not coming to save her from the cruelties of her older brothers as she imagined he was doing, he was there to change her life. As she looked into the green eyes of the stranger, she knew with absolute certainty that the arrival of this man was not an accident.

Although almost 15 years later Ginny knew that this was not the moment she had first truly fallen in love with Harry Potter, she did know that that was the moment when she began to have eyes for no one but him…that there could never be anyone but him.

Sometimes when she was sitting alone in the small one-bedroom apartment that she shared with Harry, waiting for him like she had been her entire life and like she would be for the rest of it, she would think about this moment and how it had changed her life in the past, waiting for when it would affect her life in the present. So as she sat at the kitchen table staring at the clock on the wall, she waited for Harry's hand to move from 'traveling', where it seemed to stay most of the time, back to 'home', back to her, who always seemed to be waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 1: The Work of Children

Chapter 1- The Work of Children

(Ginny is 16. Harry is 17 and 21)

"Ginny, I've already told you. You're not coming!" Harry yelled in frustration and desperation, whirling around to face an equally frustrated yet determined Ginny.

"Honestly Harry, you need me! I can fight. You know I can! What good am I to anyone cooped up here?" Ginny replied heatedly. "You know better than anyone that there are worse things than dying. Being alive without actually _living!_ I've seen you live that way for so long and I wouldn't wish that on anyone." She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what else to say. "Isn't that worth dying for? What we have… well, that's absolutely worth dying for."

She walked up to him and slid her arms around his waist and said quietly, "Let me be there for you. Let me help you." She slowly tilted her head up and kissed him softly, in what she admitted was a low blow on her part.

Harry's response was almost immediate. Before she realized it, his hands were clutching her face and he was kissing her back almost desperately. Despite his restraint, she could feel his hands shaking as he held her firmly in place. In the back of her mind, she was faintly aware that there was something off about this kiss, but as Harry pushed her back roughly against the wooden closet door of her childhood bedroom she lost sight of everything else. All she knew was the feel of him pressing into her, the smell of him flooding her brain. Merlin, the things this man did to her.

In an effort to calm himself, he placed his hands on either side of her head, bracing himself for what was to come next. He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers, willing her to see inside his mind and understand why he needed her to stay put. Trying to the check the emotion that was threatening to spill forth from him, he managed to grind out through clenched teeth, "I don't know how to make you understand. I _can't_ lose you! I just… I COULDN'T take it if… I.."

Ginny looked up into his face as he trailed off and was struck by his brilliant green eyes, which were making a silent plea with her. "Oh Harry," she whispered. "What do you think would happen if I lost you and I couldn't do anything to help you? Do you see what you're asking me to do?" She reached up and stroked the side of his face softly, watching as his eyes clouded a bit as they often did if he was considering something.

Then suddenly his mouth was on hers again, but only briefly before he said, "I will always come back for you, Ginny. Just…just please wait for me." And with a pop, he was gone.

It was a good minute before Ginny's brain processed what had just happened. The following second was all it took before all the blood rushed to her face and she began screaming every expletive that she'd ever heard and had the grace to blush at. When she saw Harry Potter next he'd wish he'd never asked her to wait because she'd definitely be waiting… waiting to KILL him!! She picked up the glass snitch figurine that he'd given her for her birthday, seeing red as she glared at the object.

"You shouldn't do that. You're going to really regret breaking it in a couple of years," warned a familiar voice from the doorway. Her grip tightened on the snitch as she grew angrier.

"When are you from now? Cause you'd think by then you would finally recognize that I STILL don't need you to protect me!" She turned around and threw the tiny snitch at that all too-familiar face, which, unfortunately, managed to duck it just in time. If it was possible, this made her angrier and she began yelling at him every dirty word she knew.

----------

Harry winced at the onslaught of insults being thrown at him. It wasn't exactly fair, was it? This wasn't exactly where he wanted to be at this moment. He'd been enjoying his Sunday lie-in with his wife, one of his favorite, simple pastimes. It had been a few hours since he'd woken up but he'd lain in bed unmoving, simply content to watch her sleep wildly beside him. Even in sleep, she was a mess and he loved her for it. Then, all of a sudden, he'd been whisked here and immediately attacked.

As he saw her eyes light upon another fragile object that she was probably imagining flying in the air towards his head, he decided to try to stop her before things got out of hand. "Whoa, calm down now. You know the poor prat can't help it." He chanced a step towards her.

"What? And that's just supposed to make it better?" She turned her eyes to him and, in a flash, he could see the anger disappear and be replaced by hurt. "Just because you're a prat means that I should be happy with the fact that you always leave me behind? _Always!"_

Harry felt his heart clench in his chest as tears began to form in her eyes. He quietly closed the door behind him and walked towards her, her body shaking in an attempt to hold back her sobs. When he wrapped his arms around her, however, the dam seemed to break and she gave way to her grief. He led her to the bed and sat her down on the edge of it, still holding her. He ran his hand up and down her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there holding her, but eventually her tears began to let up. He pulled away from her slightly and surveyed her face. While it was a sight, red and splotchy from crying, he couldn't help but think her beautiful. Taking a risk, he moved so that he was reclining against the mass of pink pillows piled at the head of her bed, feeling decidedly unmasculine, and patted the space next to him.

Reluctantly, Ginny lay next to him, allowing her head to rest on his chest, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapping around her. They just lay there for a long time in silence, comfortable in knowing that neither of them had to talk. After a while, he heard her soft voice ask him, "Why did you do it?"

He was silent for a moment, trying to recall that moment. That was the night where he'd gone off to face Voldemort. He'd been a wreck after leaving her. Instead of apparating to meet Hermione and Ron, he'd gone to the Weasley's backyard and hid behind the shed, trying to calm down and convince himself that he'd done the right thing. It took everything in him to not go back to her. Instead, he pictured every reason that he was doing this.

"You're all I have. I think on some level I felt that…it wouldn't matter as much if I died." He felt her shift to look up at him, half sympathetic and half annoyed. He continued on quickly before she could say anything.

"The Dursleys… they were never my family. I was never really loved until I met Ron and Hermione and we became friends. It's hard to undo 11 years of thinking no one cared you. I know that's no excuse but that's just the way it is. But with you, it was completely different. When we first kissed, I first began to love you and it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I began to love you with my whole heart, and, for the first time, I thought that you might feel the same. It was one of the most amazing things that I'd ever felt. I didn't want to be anywhere, but around you, touching you in some way, just being close to you. But at the same time, it was terrifying. When I first figured out how much I loved you, I went into hero mode." He paused when she let out a decidedly unladylike snort and continued.

"In my mind, the further away you were, the safer you were. And that became the most important thing to me. So I tried breaking it off with you, but, of course, you would have none of that. And when it came to tonight, I was in a panic. I knew I had to face Voldemort and I knew you'd want to come with me, but I couldn't let you. I was never any good saying no to you in the first place so when you asked to come I didn't know what to do. I thought if I died, you'd be able to get over it. You'd have your whole family to help you through it and, most importantly, you'd be safe. If you'd died, there'd be no coming back for me. Ever." He scrubbed his free hand over his face, tiredly. He definitely hadn't counted on having this conversation today. He briefly wondered if he'd be back in time to make the Cannons game with Ron later.

"So, I know it was probably one of the most pigheaded, insensitive, inconsiderate, hurtful—your words, not mine—things that I could have done…" He trailed off and looked into her eyes. "But, just know this, I would do it again in a heartbeat. If it ever comes down to me having to keep you safe over me, I will _always_ choose you." And, because he could never resist her, he leaned in and kissed her softly.

----------

Ginny was somewhat overwhelmed by his confession. The Harry of her time would rather learn to waltz with Snape dressed as Neville's grandmother than to tell anyone how he was actually feeling. She smirked inwardly, thinking that her future self must have done quite a number on him to inspire such a turn around. As she listened to him speak, she began to find herself ensnared in "Harry logic" and, despite the ridiculousness of it all, realized just how damaged the boy really was.

The part of her mind that was slowly becoming her mother wanted to wrap him up in her arms and hug the self-depreciation out of him for as long as it took. But the other part of her mind was just angry. How dare he say that she would be able to get over his death better than he would? How could he say that his own pain would be worse than hers? These questions rang in her ears, distracting her as Harry leaned forward and covered her mouth with his.

The feel of his lips against hers, so different from the pair that had just kissed her not thirty minutes earlier, startled her out of her inward rants. She didn't want to be angry or scared out of her mind anymore. She just wanted to forget that somewhere her family, her best friend and the love of her life were saving the world and risking their lives. When he rolled her on her back and continued to snog her, his hands caressing her face gently, she allowed herself to forget what was happening far away without her and the growing sense of uneasiness that was forming in her stomach.

Harry pulled away abruptly and stared at her face for a while, a strange look coming into his eyes. Growing uncomfortable under his gaze, she asked, "What? What's the matter? Do I have something on my face?" She reached up to try to brush whatever it was, and was surprised when his hand grabbed hers.

"It's nothing. I just love you…always have."

She laughed softly, "Oh right, whatever. I love you, it's nothing. I'd hate to see what 'something' is for you." Her eyes danced as she teased him.

He grinned as he leaned in to kiss her again. Their lips were just about to meet when a hysterical screech could be heard from downstairs.

"They did WHAT?!" came the high-pitched voice of Ginny's mother from the kitchen of the Burrow.

Ginny's eyes met Harry's and they both winced as they realized that her mother had probably found the goodbye note from Ron. The thudding that could be heard from the stairs could only mean that she was on her way to confront her daughter about her part in this.

"Bugger!" Harry murmured, as he and Ginny sat up.

"I know! We need to get you hidden," she exclaimed, jumping off the bed and running towards to closet.

"No, it's not that."

Ginny stopped and turned to look at him in confusion, finally realizing what he was talking about. His skin seemed to almost glow. Every part of him looked somewhat hazy as if every particle of his body were vibrating in an attempt to escape.

His body appeared to flicker in and out a few times before he was able to mouth a quick goodbye and disappear.

----------

(Harry is 21. Ginny is 20.)

Harry landed none too gracefully on the hard, wooden floor beside his bed, his head making a loud 'thud' as it hit the ground.

"Bloody hell, that hurt!" He all but screamed as he clutched his head in agony. As he silently cursed Ginny's decision to get a house with wood floors rather than that lovely carpeted one, he was startled by a familiar laugh from the doorway.

Glancing upward, he finally noticed his wife leaning against the doorframe, casually drinking from a coffee mug and shaking in silent laughter.

"All right there, love? You seem to have fallen on the floor," Ginny asked in mock concern.

He only glared at her, earning him another laugh.

"Well, I'm glad my pain amuses you, my dearest beloved wife?" Harry grumbled sourly as he pulled himself into a sitting position against the bed, mentally taking stock of the rest of his body and finding it to be unbroken.

He watched as she walked towards him and plopped beside him on the floor. "You'll have to forgive me. It's not every day that you see the savior of the wizarding world humbled by the floor." She winked saucily and leaned in to give him a lingering, 'good morning' kiss that made him forget his throbbing head. Placing her coffee mug on the ground, she snuggled into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. She sighed softly and said quietly, "Did you just come from—"

"Yes."

He felt her nod before she replied, "Okay." She was silent a few more moments before he heard, "I'm glad you're home."

He smiled and tightened his arms around her, kissing the top of her head and murmuring into her hair, "Me too." He closed his eyes and memories from the time he'd just left filled his thoughts, causing his smile to fade. Squeezing Ginny tighter, he allowed himself to take comfort in his wife.

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(Ginny is 16.)

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS SECOND AND YOU TELL ME WHERE THEY WENT!!"

Ginny visibly winced, glancing to the spot where Harry had just disappeared from and wishing that he had taken her with him. She quickly calculated her chances of escaping through the window but realized her mother would be dragging her by the ear back inside before she could even reach the garden. Resigning herself to her fate, she walked slowly towards the door.

Despite the fact that she had not left with the trio herself, she was sure to get the lion's share of the blame. As she took a deep breath and cursed her Gryffindor courage, she opened the door and was almost knocked over as the imposing form of Molly Weasley barreled into the room.

"Ginevra Weasley, you will tell me where your brother went and you will tell me RIGHT NOW. If they think that I will just step aside and let them chase after You-Know-Who…"

"Voldemort," Ginny wearily corrected.

"…then they are sorely mistaken. You all are still children, for Merlin's sake!"

Ginny spun around to look at her mother, hardly believing her ears. Maybe it was just her, but children didn't go risking their lives for the greater good.

"We are not children, mum," she replied quietly.

Mrs. Weasley froze mid rant, hands waving wildly in the air and mouth wide open. At any other time, the humor of the pose would not have been lost on Ginny. As her mother's angry gaze focused in on her youngest daughter, however, things didn't seem quite so funny.

Her mother's plump hands fisted themselves and deposited themselves upon her plump hips as her body went into its patented 'scold' stance. "Pardon me, Ginevra, but if you are trying to say that running away in the middle of the night and leaving a note…" She paused and waved said note for dramatic effect. "…is what 'adults' would do, then—"

"What I am trying to say, " Ginny cut in loudly, "is that this is our war, too. Mum, you keep trying to protect us and refuse to see that maybe it's our job to protect you. Harry has been fighting Voldemort since he was one year old. He's willing to give his life so that others don't have to suffer like he did and he's only seventeen years old."

She was silent for a moment as the reality of what was happening at that moment hit her, and she felt tears forming in her eyes.

"We haven't been children for years now."

She was distracted from her thoughts by a loud sob and the creak of her bed as her mother sank heavily into it. Guilt flooded Ginny and she rushed to her mother's side. She had never meant to make her cry. She sat on the bed and placed an arm around her mother who was currently sobbing into her apron.

"All I've ever wanted was for you children to be safe and not have to worry for your lives like we did when we had all of you. The greatest gift we were ever given was our lives with you. All your father and I want is for you all to get married and have families and just live. We'd do anything to protect that future for you." She broke off to dissolve into another round of sobbing.

Ginny watched as her mother cried for a few moments before laying her head on her shoulder and allowing her own tears to fall.

"I know, mum. I know."

----------

The next day was spent watching the clock in the kitchen as the three hands for Ron, Hermione and Harry sat parked at 'Mortal Peril'. Her mother went about her day either crying at the kitchen table or preparing meals for any of her brothers or father or any other Order member that would come through the Weasley household.

Ginny tried to help when she could but her mind kept wandering to the three hands on the clock.

The following day brought no sign of anyone. With the exception of Ginny, her mother, and Fleur, who had chosen to finish out the rest of her pregnancy with them in the Burrow, all of the hands on the clock now pointed to 'Mortal Peril'. With no one to cook for, Molly spent all of her time now crying in her room. As Fleur was on bed rest, Ginny now had two women to take care of.

Despite being pregnant and being Fleur, her sister-in-law provided relatively no trouble to her. She seemed to be more anxious for her husband's wellbeing than for her own and Ginny could obviously sympathize with that.

Her mother, on the other hand, was another matter. Ginny felt as if she were helpless to do anything for her. She wouldn't take a kip or eat. Ever since she had removed herself to upstairs, Molly had spent all of her time looking through old scrapbooks and picture albums as well as reading school essays and admiring childhood artwork.

It was late when Ginny retired to her room for the night. She didn't even bother turning on the light as she took a seat beside her window and watched the garden and fields outside.

She kept thinking about future Harry's visit from two days before and his face before he left, trying to analyze his silence before he left. He'd looked so sad for a moment as if recalling something, but, of course, revealed nothing about it. For as long as she could remember, Harry had always been careful about revealing too much to her about the future.

Basically, all she knew was that something would happen to him that would cause him to time travel spontaneously and that one day she and Harry would be married, but she'd known that since she was five, so that hardly counted as something she'd learned from him.

She just knew there was something more to that look than what he let on. Sighing, she stood up to go to bed. Just as she was turning to go lay down, movement in the garden caught her eye. Her hand gripped her wand tightly as she inched slowly back to the window. Looking out the window, what she saw caused her to run from her room and seek her mother.

Bursting into her mother's room, she immediately ran to the figure on the bed. "Mum, wake up!" she whispered loudly and shaking her awake.

Sitting up groggily, Molly slowly focused on her daughter's face. "Ginny? What is it? Are they home?!" She gently pushed Ginny aside as she quickly stood up.

"No mum. There are two Death Eaters outside. I think they're trying to figure out how to break the wards down. It won't take that long before they get inside."

Molly's face filled with fear and then determination. "I'm going to get the emergency portkey from the den. Go gather Fleur and then wait for me on the landing. Hurry up now and don't be afraid!" Hugging her daughter quickly, she made her way out of the room and towards the stairs.

Following her mother's instructions, Ginny ran to Bill's old room and quickly roused Fleur from her bed. When they made it to the landing, Ginny was surprised that her mother wasn't there yet. Listening intently, she could hear rustling down in the den.

"I don't think she can find it," Ginny whispered to Fleur quietly. "I'm going to go help her." She made it a step before Fleur grabbed her.

"Ginny, you mustn't!" Fleur lilted quietly in her French accent. "Your muzzer said we must wait!"

Pulling her arm away none too gently, she hissed back, "Well I can't just leave her alone down there. We all need to get out of here before they get in." And without waiting for a response, she ran down the stairs towards the den.

Crouching as she passed the door so that the Death Eaters wouldn't see her, Ginny made it to the entry of the den, only to find her mother not there. Before she could turn around to go back to the landing, a loud boom crashed behind her and she realized with a panic that the Death Eaters had made it past the wards.

"Well, well.. If it isn't the youngest Weasley," came a familiar, creepy and aristocratic voice from behind her that caused her hair to stand on end.

Lucius Malfoy.

Turning around slowly, she gripped her wand and was prepared to hurl a hex at him until she heard the Death Eater beside him yell, "Expelliarmus!" She watched helplessly as the wand in her hand was pulled away from her and fly to the waiting hand of the second Death Eater.

She watched as Lucius pulled off his mask and dropped it to the ground. Smiling, he began to walk slowly around the room, picking up items and inspecting them with distaste before dropping them to the floor for effect. "Now, Ginevra, is it? I do believe we have some unfinished business about five years in the making. This time, however, your precious Potter is not here to save you. Even as we speak, my colleagues are seeing to it that he is taken care of and—"

"Colleagues?" Ginny cut in, confused. "Why are your colleagues taking care of Harry? I thought it was Voldemort that would—" She broke off as she read between the lines of what Lucius was saying. "Unless Voldemort is dead." Even as she spoke the words she watched as anger—and was it fear?—grew in Lucius' eyes. "Is that it Lucius? Has Harry defeated your Dark Lord?"

"Shut up!"

"It couldn't be that a seventeen year old wizard has defeated the most powerful wizard of all time!"

"Silence!" Malfoy shouted almost desperately, eyes blazing in fury.

She didn't know why but the news caused such happiness to well up inside her that before she knew it she was laughing. She was laughing so hard that she was crying.

"Stop it!" he yelled again but this seemed to make her laugh even more. Of course, all this did was incense him greatly and before she'd realized it he'd pulled out his wand, pointing it at her and yelling, "Crucio!"

The world went dark as white-hot pain coursed through her and she was vaguely aware of falling to her knees. It felt like forever until he lifted the curse.

Having regained the upper hand, Malfoy circled her on the floor as she gasped for breath and wiped at the trail of blood from where she'd bit her lip.

"Now, as I was saying. We have unfinished business." He walked back over to where the other Death Eater was standing. "I gave you that diary five years ago in hopes that it would aid my plans for your death. As my plans were obviously thwarted, I am now forced to make good on those plans myself."

Raising his wand, he pointed it at her steadily. "Do you have any last words or perhaps you'd like to beg me for your pathetic life?" He leered at her suggestively in a way that made her want to throw up. "Perhaps we could come up with some sort of arrangement."

"Go to hell!" Ginny spat. Despite the growing dread in her stomach, she knew that she wasn't about to die. She was destined to marry Harry and that obviously couldn't happen if she were dead.

Lucius laughed and slowly spoke the words, "Avada Kedavra."

Ginny closed her eyes as she saw the bright green light emanate from his wand, no longer being so sure that she would survive this encounter.

Ginny wasn't too sure what happened in the next few seconds that passed. All she heard was the sound of feet moving and then Lucius screaming followed by the sound of thuds as multiple things hit the floor.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were the bodies of Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eater lying still on the floor. Surprised and confused, she tried to make her way over to where they lay on the floor but stopped as her foot hit something in front of her on the ground.

As she looked down to see what it was, her heart stopped as she looked into the still face of her mother.

Falling to her knees, she began to shake her mother, refusing to believe that she was dead. "Mum! Mum wake up! Please mum wake up!" She barely felt the tears rolling down her face. She didn't hear Fleur coming into the room where she fell beside her and cried.

"Oh god."

The only thing she could think of was earlier that morning when she'd brought her mother breakfast in her room. She'd curled up beside her like she'd done so many times as a child. Molly simply gathered her child into her arms and told Ginny that she'd loved her and was proud of her.

Ginny began to sob openly and violently then, clinging to her mother's hand and pressing it to her face as she had done that morning.

The sound of the front door opening could be heard as well as many pairs of feet running in. She slowly looked up into the face of her father gazing at her mother, grief stricken and broken. From behind him, all of her brothers began to crowd into the room, each stopping when they noticed their mother, all looking a combination of distraught and angry.

The last people that came into the room were Ron, Hermione and Harry. Hermione immediately turned and embraced Ron, crying quietly into his chest. Ron looked lost, reminding her of when he was a little boy. Harry looked like he'd been momentarily petrified, his face becoming ashen.

His eyes flickered up to her face and she almost sobbed at the pain that looked back at her.

"Harry," she mouthed, and, within moments, he was holding her and she was crying into his chest.

As he held her, he whispered over and over again, "I'm so sorry."

She felt hollow inside and the only thing that she could think was, "Why didn't Harry tell me?"


	3. Chapter 2: Interlude: Harry 1

Chapter 2 –Interlude: Harry #1

"I live in that solitude which is painful in youth,

but delicious in the years of maturity."

-Albert Einstein

(Harry is 22 and 9.)

What was it like to travel?

If you could combine what it felt like when you apparated, flooed, and portkeyed, then maybe you could experience an eighth of what time traveling felt like. It was if every molecule in your body disappeared one by one until there was nothing left of you but at the same time you were still completely conscious of yourself.

The process in and of itself wasn't particularly uncomfortable. Yet it was still the most physically and spiritually violent experiences he'd ever had. It wasn't like it hurt. What struck him the most was the feeling of nothingness, like he barely belonged to himself, much less to any specific time or space. It felt so devastatingly lonely.

The length of the episodes varied greatly, lasting from only a few minutes to whole days at a time. And what's more, he had no control over when or where he ended up. Luckily, he hadn't landed himself in any serious trouble yet. His most embarrassing incident so far was ending up in a woman's changing room in some muggle department store in Scotland in 1963. Someone, apparently, was on his side and he ended up going back to his right time before he was booked by the local police for being a pervert.

While time traveling was strange enough as it was, one thing he had yet to figure out was why when he traveled he was unable to use magic. Unfortunately, he had realized this too late to escape his arse being thoroughly kicked by a gang of men in an alleyway in London. Hermione reckoned that it had something to do with the instability of Harry's magical identity in space. All Harry knew was that it would have been handy to realize that he couldn't apparate before the first punch to the face.

Despite all of Hermione's theories, she had yet to come up with an explanation for why Harry seemed to find Ginny so many times when he traveled. She had done the arithmantical calculations at least a dozen times and every time she still had no idea why it was happening.

One night after one of these failed attempts to figure out what was happening to Harry, he and Ginny had been lying in bed together silently. Harry remembered holding her so tightly, somewhere in his mind hoping that if he were to travel in that moment that he could take her with him. He remembered closing his eyes and nuzzling into her hair, recalling perfectly in his mind the way that the moon reflected off of her red tresses. He was about to fall asleep when he heard Ginny's voice softly breaking through the silence.

"_I know why it is that you come to me so often when you travel." Startled, Harry opened his eyes._

"_Why is it?" She turned around in his arms and looked into his eyes earnestly._

"_In ancient mythology they used to say that when people were first created that two people were created together as two halves of a whole. One day the gods split them all apart and they were destined to spend the rest of their lives trying to find the other part of their soul. They were soulmates. They couldn't help it. I think somehow, no matter when we are, our souls are always trying to find each other and always will."_

That's why he loved that woman. She could say something that was so simple yet somehow make it seem so devastatingly important.

Harry knew, without a doubt, that somehow that it was true. That thought, knowing that his heart was always trying to bring him to her, made it just a bit easier to accept what was happening to him.

However, things didn't always follow this idea and, more often than he cared for, he found himself thrust into a foreign world, foreign all because Ginny wasn't there.

Such was the case today, apparently.

As he looked around uncertainly taking in his surroundings, Harry realized with a pang of disappointment that, instead of the rolling fields of the Burrow, he was standing in a parking lot of the major shopping district in Little Whinging. A survey of the cars in the neighborhood dated his arrival to sometime in the late 80s or early 90s. He had never been one for details before, but with traveling he had found that every little thing was important to keeping him as in conspicuous as possible. Never being one for attention, he had always known that sometimes being noticed could be dangerous.

Despite the letdown of not being able to see Ginny, he was cheered at the prospect of catching a glimpse of his younger self.

A quick tour through the shopping center was able to provide Harry with some necessary items. He picked up a long coat and bowler from a man at a restaurant who'd made the mistake of leaving his things at the table while he went to the WC. While he was aware of the very big fashion faux pas that he was committing, he was certain that he'd probably get stranger looks from the muggles for the long-sleeved Falmouth Falcons (his secret favorite team) shirt that he was wearing.

Deciding that he was presentable enough, he left the shopping center, opting to take the scenic route to his childhood home.

----------

He wasn't sure why he was so surprised at the way everything looked the same but he was.

He passed the alleyway where Dudley and his gang would drag him into to beat him up after school. He walked through the park and sat on the swings, reminiscing on all the times he had ran through it to escape yet another beating from Dudley.

He certainly didn't miss that place at all.

Before he knew it, he was passing Mrs. Figg's house and he could see his old childhood home in the distance.

Once, he'd brought Ginny here after he'd moved into his first apartment. He had been so nervous to see how she would react, finally seeing the horrible place where he'd spent his youth. Despite her initial shock at seeing just how small that cupboard was among other things, she'd been relatively quiet. When they'd gone up to Dudley's second room to clear out, she turned to him and wrapped her arms around him, vowing to never let him come back her again.

She was sure to be VERY happy when she found out that he had gone _willingly_ here.

Harry stopped walking when he was in front of the house and simply stared at it for a while. There were so many details that he'd forgotten. He remembered, not too fondly, the geraniums that he'd planted in the front and the grass he frequently mowed. Luckily, he didn't see his uncle's old Ford that he'd washed and waxed every single week.

As he watched the house, he felt a strange sense of closure pass over him. He'd lived in that house and he'd survived it. He didn't live there anymore.

Content, Harry began to wonder what he would do until he returned back to the future. He had just begun to consider walking around and seeing if he could find Dudley terrorizing the neighborhood when he was distracted by the door of his childhood home being ripped open. A small, thin boy with unruly black hair and too-big clothes streaking out of the house, across the lawn, and continuing down the street quickly accompanied the shrill screams coming from inside the home of his Aunt Petunia.

Harry looked away from his younger self running down the street to watch the door being slammed, leaving him trying to figure out what had just happened. He wracked his mind trying to pull out the memory, but it wasn't as if getting yelled at by his Aunt was a rare occurrence.

Although he knew that he shouldn't risk being seen by his younger self, he felt his curiosity getting the better of him. Before he knew it, he was taking off in pursuit of his younger self.

----------

The sound of a creaking swing alerted Harry to the presence of his younger self. Looking at the boy, he was startled by how thin and sad looking he'd been as a child. It wasn't something that he really focused on. After all, he did spend most of his time trying to ignore the early part of his life.

Watching the boy, however, it became apparent that he was barely hanging on. His skinny frame was shaking with repressed sobs and he seemed more than willing to be swallowed up in his too large clothes.

Harry wasn't sure how long he just stood there, just waiting on some indication that the boy was all right. It seemed like forever until the shaking stopped.

He began thinking about moving away when all of a sudden the boys bright green eyes snapped up and met his own. Realizing how foolish he'd been to get caught, he muttered "Bollocks!" to himself before he could stop.

He started backing away when a quiet, shaky voice cut through the silence. "Wait! Who are you? Do I know you?"

The child was regarding him with a wary expression, obviously taking in his odd appearance. Harry didn't see a spark of recognition in the boy's eyes but it was obvious that something in Harry's face was familiar to the boy. He was suddenly grateful that the bowler he had stolen was sitting low on his forehead, covering his very conspicuous scar.

"No! It's just.. Erm.. well… I… um.. I just saw you sitting there and wanted to make sure you were all right. If you don't mind my asking, is everything okay?"

The boy was silent for a moment before sniffling loudly and sullenly kicking a rock on the ground. "No one ever asks how I'm doing. No one even cares. They only want me around to clean or help cook or to be punching bag." He punctuated his statement by kicking another rock, which had the misfortune of hitting Harry in the leg. He winced and jumped slightly. The younger boy didn't seem to notice, however, and continued with his morose observations.

"My family hates me. I don't have any friends. Even Dudley has friends and he's fat and stupid and smells like old socks." Harry tried not to laugh at this. "I wish I were anywhere else in the world but here. I hate it here. I hate my life." His voice trembled on this last declaration.

Realizing the vulnerable state of the boy, Harry didn't feel right just leaving him. He, obviously, knew how he felt. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, "I know how you feel. Growing up, my family was exactly like yours." The boy raised his eyes to his face at this, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You just have to realize that no matter what you do you can't change them and you'll never be able to. After that, you just have to realize that that's okay. Accepting that will make you a better person in the end and others will see that in you."

The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Yeah right. What do you know?"

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but things aren't always going to be this way. Good things are going to happen to you. Good people are going to happen to you. Things aren't always going to be easy, but you just always have to choose to fight for the good."

He fixed the boy with a stare and said clearly, "It is our choices that show what we truly are."

The words of Dumbledore caused a wave of sadness to swell inside of him and he had trouble blinking back tears. He began to feel that he was losing himself again.

Young Harry looked down, considering both his shoes and the man's words. He wanted the man to be right. This couldn't be what his life would be. Sometimes he just felt _inside_ that he was meant to be much more. He just KNEW it.

When he looked up, the man had disappeared. He stood up and looked around but was still unable to locate him.

Shaking his head, he looked towards the sky and realized that it was starting to get dark. Glancing at the spot the man had once occupied, he began to walk home, thinking to himself how like magic it had all seemed.

Yet, there was something very familiar about that man...


	4. Chapter 3: Submergence

Chapter 3 – Submergence

When along the pavement,  
Palpitating flames of life,  
People flicker round me,  
I forget my bereavement,  
The gap in the great constellation,  
The place where a star used to be.

- D.H. Lawrence, "Submergence"

_(Flashback: Ginny is 9. Harry is 20.)_

"_Harry?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_What happens to people when they die?" Even though Ginny's eyes were closed, she could sense Harry turning to look at her. _

_It was currently the middle of the night, and Harry and she had been lying on their backs in the fields behind the Burrow, staring up at the stars for about an hour ever since she'd been woken up by the sound of pebbles being thrown at her window. At first, they'd halfheartedly attempted to have a conversation, but she'd been unusually quiet that night. She knew he could tell that something was up._

_His initial silence was to be expected. If anything, he always tried to be honest with her. Well… _somewhat_ honest. He would tell her as much of the truth as he could as long as it didn't involve revealing anything about her future. She could feel irritation at his concealment ever niggling at the back of her brain. _

_Being the baby and only girl of the Weasley family had not taught her to be patient. _

_Tonight was different, however. For once, she appreciated that he was trying to find the right words to say to comfort her. _

"_Well, I've always believed that after people die they all go to a place where everything is happy all the time, back to that time in their life when everything was perfect. Time doesn't really pass. People there don't hate each other and there's not war. Only love. They get to be with their loved ones forever and they can watch over those that they left behind." He was silent for a moment before speaking again with, what Ginny suspected to be, a slight quiver in his voice. "I think about my parents and that's how I see them. Happy and together, watching over me until we can be together again."_

_The sadness in his voice set something off within Ginny, and, without realizing it, she was crying softly._

_Ginny heard Harry sit up abruptly, obviously startled by her tears. "Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked gently, placing a hand on her arm. _

_She tried to put her hands over her eyes, as if covering them meant that Harry would forget that she was embarrassing herself by crying in front of him. _

"_Today, I was supposed to go swimming with Madelyn Gilly. We'd been planning on it for a week. But…but then, Fred and George wanted me to help with pulling a prank on Percy. They never ask me. They always ask Ron because he's a _boy_ so I said yes. When Madelyn came over and I told her, she got really mad at me and we had an awful row. Then she ran away."_

_She broke off abruptly, feeling her throat close up as she remembered it all—Madelyn's mother frantically banging on the door during dinner looking for her daughter, telling everyone about their meeting earlier, her parents grabbing their wands and rushing out to join in the search efforts, the hour she spent sobbing in her room from the guilt, her parents coming with looks filled with sorrow._

"_She tried to go swimming alone. She drowned and it's all…all my fault! She's dead and it's because of me!" She finally gave into the sobs that she'd been fighting since her parents told her._

_Ginny took her hands away from her face and opened her eyes, seeking Harry's, hoping that when he looked at her he wouldn't blame her…like she blamed herself. Looking into his eyes, she saw pity, concern, and understanding. For some reason, it just made her cry even harder._

_She felt herself being pulled into an awkward hug and realized offhandedly that she was caught up in Harry's arms. Then she felt ashamed that she was thinking about her hopeless, stupid love for Harry when her best friend had just died._

_She wasn't sure how long she sat there crying with Harry's arm around her, but eventually her tears began to subside. Her mind reflected on his earlier words and she felt her eyes water again._

"_Do… do you think that Madelyn is happy where she is?"_

_Harry nodded and murmured softly, "I do."_

"_Do you think that I'll get to see her again?"_

"_I do," he replied again, in a voice not his own. Confused, Ginny looked up into his face and found herself staring into the round, ruddy face of Madelyn Gilly._

"_I died. I died and it's all your fault," Madelyn accused._

"_No!" Ginny said, closing her eyes and trying to move away from her dead friend. When she opened her eyes again she was met with an entirely different face._

_Her mother's._

"_I died because of you. My death is on your hands," said her mother in a voice that was both angry and sad._

"_NO!" Ginny gasped, covering her face with her hands and crying. "I'm so sorry… so, so sorry…"_

"…so sorry…" she murmured over and over again.

"Ginny!"

"…so sorry…"

"Ginny, wake up!"

Ginny sat up with a gasp, images from her dream from the past still flashing through her mind. Her eyes slowly focused on Hermione who was sitting on the edge of her bed watching her with concern. She seemed unsure of how to comfort her friend. She settled for placing a hand on her leg and squeezing it softly.

"Gin, what's wrong?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Ginny's heart was racing. Every time she blinked she saw her mother's face—in the dream or on the floor in the Burrow—and it made her heart ache. She'd been walking around numb for the past week; the dull ache that the loss caused was almost welcome.

"Gin?"

She couldn't lie and say she was fine. But she also couldn't tell Hermione how she was really feeling—that the pain was so bad that she couldn't breathe.

She just settled on, "Sorry. I had a bad dream, I guess." She tried to smile but doubted Hermione would buy it.

Hermione frowned, obviously not believing Ginny's half-hearted attempt at putting on a brave face.

"Well…" Hermione began. Ginny could tell that she was fighting the urge to give advice. "I just wanted to tell you that I've made breakfast. If you're at all hungry, you should try to get down there before Ron wakes up." A small smile accompanied her wry attempt at humor.

"Thanks Hermione. I'll be down in a few minutes." Hermione nodded, standing up and leaving the room to most likely continue making "breakfast" or whatever it was that she tried to pass off as food.

As soon as she heard Hermione's steps descending the stairs, she lay back down and tried to rub the dream from her eyes. She'd been having the same dream since her mother's death, but it didn't make waking up any easier.

After a few minutes, she began to hear rustling downstairs and she finally made the effort to rouse herself from bed. She quickly put on the dressing gown that was sitting at the foot of her bed and slipped her feet into an old pair of hand-me-down slippers that had once belonged to her mother. Running her hands through her hair a few times, she made an attempt at looking presentable as she walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

----------

It was a sunny enough day outside yet the kitchen didn't seem quite as bright without Molly Weasley's motherly presence. Hermione was trying her best to play mother hen to all the Weasleys and to Harry. Her efforts, despite her good intentions, paled in comparison and served only as a reminder to what had been lost.

Not to mention, Hermione had the cooking skills of a garden gnome. What were supposed to be fluffy eggs would almost always come out stiff and, if left for longer than a minute, stuck to the plate. It was enough to make even Ron eat without his usual gusto.

Of course, bless her heart, she prepared every meal for them. Lunch was pleasant enough (how hard was it really to prepare a sandwich?), but dinner… she felt green just thinking about the meat pie Hermione had tried to make the previous night. It had provided no small amount of amusement to her brothers, who managed to hide their smiles (and food) behind their napkins in an effort not to offend Hermione.

It wasn't as if the rest of them were awful cooks (well, her father was); the fact of the matter was that, in the absence of their mother, no one really cared about taking care of themselves. There was a big, Molly Weasley-sized void in their hearts and in their home that could never hope to be filled.

When she walked into the kitchen, most of the family was already down there. Bill was nagging Fleur to try to eat more, despite the quality of the food. Ron had already shoveled through most of a plate of food and seemed to be eyeing the platters on the table for more. The twins were poking at their food at one end of the table, whispering between themselves and to Charlie, who seemed to be paying distracted attention to the conversation. Her father and Percy were unsurprisingly absent from the table. Percy was probably already at work, and her father had barely left his room. She made a mental note to take a tray of food to him later.

She walked around the table, responding in turn to the chorus of 'Morning Gin', and took an open seat next to Fleur. She sat silently, nibbling a piece of toast, and listened to all the conversations around her. One voice was conspicuously absent. The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle and she looked up to notice a pair of emerald green eyes watching her closely.

Ignoring the shiver down her back that his gaze always caused, Ginny gave Harry an icy glare and returned her full attention to the slightly burned piece of toast in her hands.

Ever since her mother had died, Harry had been avoiding her like the plague. He said it was because he wanted to give her space, but Ginny knew him better than he knew himself. What Harry was doing was being classic Harry. True to form, he'd blamed the death of her mother on himself and was beating himself up accordingly. Hermione had been bugging Ginny these past few days to try and talk some sense into him.

"_After all" she'd said, "it's not any more his fault than it is mine or Ron's or Mr. Weasley's."_ It didn't escape Ginny's notice that her own name was not on the list.

For once, however, Harry's peace of mind was not on the top of her list of priorities. Harry could take care of himself. He'd made that perfectly clear when he'd broken up with her after Dumbledore's funeral, when he'd left her alone to go fight against Voldemort, and when he'd made the decision to steer clear of her for the two weeks that she needed him most. So, if Hermione thought she was going to start worrying about _Harry_ right now, she would be sorely mistaken.

Feeling the anger beginning to rise in her, Ginny stood abruptly from the table and excused herself before anyone could ask where she was going.

----------

Harry watched moodily as Ginny left the table. The look she'd given him before leaving had been so full of contempt, hurt, and anger that he couldn't help but feel ashamed for having avoided her for the past few weeks.

'You were just giving her space to deal with her grief,' he told himself. Every time he repeated that excuse it sounded even more stupid. He knew that he was really avoiding Ginny for one reason that he couldn't bring himself to admit. He knew that the most important thing to do right now is to be there for Ginny. He KNEW all of this but there was always that voice in the back of his mind that held him back… the voice that said, not only did he know that this was all his fault, but also Ginny knew that her mother died because of him.

So he avoided her so he didn't have to look into her eyes and see the blame. He avoided her so he didn't have to see the hurt that he'd caused. He avoided her so he didn't have to come to terms with his own grief in losing the closest thing he'd ever had to a real mother.

His resolution, however, didn't make it any easier to see Ginny's face everyday. It was obvious that she was just going through the motions. She got up, she ate her meals with her family, she looked after her father, and she went to bed at night so she could wake up and do it all over again. He could tell that she wasn't sleeping well. She was liable to snap at anyone at any moment (though, it did make him feel slightly better that her anger wasn't focused solely on him). It tore him up inside that she was in so much pain but he had no idea how to be there for her in the way she needed without causing her more pain.

It didn't help that Hermione, of course, knew exactly what he should do. She was sympathetic to his reasons to a point and was willing to listen to his logic. Thinking back over their last encounter, though, he wasn't sure how much longer he would have her to listen to him. They had been talking in his room for some time, mostly her talking to him and him avoiding the issue. He only knew things were going bad when she stopped talking and sat in silence for a few minutes. When she finally did speak, her words left him feeling that maybe he was just as screwed up emotionally as he'd thought.

"_You know, Harry, I hope you realize soon that your excuses and your self-sacrifices don't amount to shite."_

She had ignored his shocked expression at her use of language that she usually scolded Ron for saying and had stood up and left his bedroom, leaving him alone to stew in his own misery.

The back door slamming caused all of the Weasley brothers to turn around and look at him, each with an angry expression. Hermione just tutted to herself at the kitchen sink. Harry felt about five inches tall. Voldemort he could handle. Five Weasley brothers had him cowering in one of Weasley's mismatched kitchen chairs.

Harry looked at Hermione, hoping for some advice to help him in his present situation. She gave him a look that plainly said 'Get-your-head-out-of-your-arse-and-go-talk-to-her'.

Steeling himself for the worst, Harry pushed away from the table and started to walk towards the door. He was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned back to see Ron holding him back.

"Let me talk to her," Ron stated, looking past Harry toward the door. When Harry started to protest, Ron cut him off quickly and said, "I think you've done enough for right now." With that, he shouldered past Harry and made his way outside.

Feeling the glares of everyone in the kitchen, Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and left the kitchen, retreating to the safe and solitary confines of the room he shared with Ron.

----------

There was no question as to where Ginny had gone. Ever since they were kids she would go off alone out in the fields behind their house. There was a tree that she would always go play under and use to store her various toys that she didn't want the boys to mess with. When she got older, she just went and sat there to read or think.

Stepping out the door, he looked around until he could barely make out the top of the tree and began to make his way towards its. It wasn't look until he could make out her form in the distance.

Clearing his throat, Ron spoke loudly, "Don't know what you see in that prat." He heard Ginny sniff and raise a hand to her face, causing him to realize that she had been crying and to almost stop in his path. She never cried. He knew she was a girl and girls usually tended to cry but this was Ginny. Hermione was a veritable waterworks but Ginny had always been the only girl in a family of six brothers. She made people cry but she did not cry. She'd never been one to play the victim and she'd always made that perfectly clear, much to the terror, amazement, and admiration of her older brothers.

Acknowledging his comment, she laughed and turned her head to watch his approach. "You do know that's your best mate that you're talking about?"

He sat on the ground beside her, so close that their shoulders were touching. "That's exactly how I know how much of a prat he really is."

"Well, you know I just figured that it takes a prat to know a prat'." He looked over at her to see that she was grinning. He elbowed her softly in the ribs, causing Ginny to laugh softly.

Here they lapsed into silence. Ron had never been really good with these kinds of talks. Sure, dating Hermione he'd been forced (emphasis on _forced_) into participating in more than a few discussions about feelings and the like, but those were usually easier because Hermione would prompt him on what he _should_ be feeling and saying.

On the whole, though, he tried to keep away from talking about his emotions. Looking over at Ginny, he could see that maybe it was a family trait. He could also see that her mood wasn't just about Harry. He began to feel the guilt seeping into him for having left her alone for a year to search for the Horcruxes and then again for those days they left to fight Voldemort. It had always been in his head that he would be leaving things behind but it had never really occurred to him that things would go on without him.

It wasn't as if he was daft or self-centered enough to think that life would stop after he'd left. It was just things like seeing that Percy had become reconciled with the family again or that Fleur so big with child or that his father had managed to lose even more hair on his head. The most astounding thing to see was how much Ginny had grown up in the past year. He knew he wasn't the only one who'd noticed it (Hermione had to restrain him from pounding Harry's eyes back into their sockets to keep him from noticing how much she'd grown). He remembered back to when they were kids and had both been so small and scrawny, all freckles and bright red hair. They had been quite the pair, almost inseparable. He couldn't remember when it was that they had grown apart—probably sometime right before he had left for Hogwarts. He was ashamed that she was pretty much absent from his memories at that time. For him, life became about Quidditch and Hogwarts and trying to get the twins to include him on pranks. All he knew was that she'd become fascinated by the life of Harry Potter, but he didn't even know when that had begun.

He remembered the summer before her first year at Hogwarts. She had been so excited to be going to school with Ron and had asked him so many questions about everything. He remembered ignoring her for the most part, too excited by what a friendship with Harry Potter meant and what a crazy witch Hermione Granger was. That ended up being how their relationship at Hogwarts had been like. It still haunted him that one of the only memories of Ginny that he had from that year was finding out from someone else that she was missing; he hadn't even noticed himself. How could he notice her missing if he never saw her in the first place? Guilt was what took him into the Chamber of Secrets that night and what had kept him by her side during her recovery all summer.

However, this newfound loyalty had barely lasted into the next school year. Luckily for her, she'd learned that she couldn't trust him to keep her at the front of his thoughts and had made her own friends. Even now, this was true. The whole year he'd been gone was about helping Harry and keeping Hermione safe and somehow getting them home safely. He hadn't given one thought to how Ginny was coping with being left by her boyfriend, her brother, and her best friend.

But the worst part was that he'd yet to talk to her about how she was dealing with their Mum's death. He was pretty sure that she hadn't talked to anyone about it. He'd only thought as far as how her death was affecting him and how the family would change in her absence. He had no idea how she was coping with her death. For Merlin's sake, she'd been there when it happened! Hermione would call him insensitive for not even considering his younger sister but she was too busy trying to be helpful to try to start anything. He was supposed to protect Ginny… what a good job he'd done so far.

After sitting in silence for a few more moments, Ron decided to try talking again. "So what's up with you and Harry anyway? It seems to always be something." He cringed after the words were out of his mouth, realizing he'd been less than tactful.

Ginny either didn't notice or was just too used to him to let it bother her for she gave no indication that his words had bothered her. She let out an aggravated sigh and began pulling grass out of the ground and letting it fall from her fingers. "You're right. It is always something with us, but I couldn't even begin to tell you what it is. Sometimes he just makes being together so hard!" Ron was silent for a few moments, not really sure how to answer this. So, of course, he said the wrong thing.

"If it's so hard, then why do you put up with it?

She was silent for a while before answering. "Because I'm in love with the man who he'll become in the future. Because we have history that he won't understand for years. Because I know that we will be together and I'm afraid of what would happen to our future and our past if I left him now. Sometimes being in love with someone can be the most difficult thing a person can do."

Ron tried not to look at her as if she were barmy, but was having trouble. He genuinely had no idea how to answer that. She sounded a bit like Firenze when he would start talking in Divination about their pasts and futures. Honestly, it gave him a headache and it made no sense. Looking at her, though, she looked peaceful and unperturbed, as if she'd simply told him that it was sunny and warm outside. She seemed so… mature. He stared at her for a few moments, trying to see a hint of the seventeen year old that she really was. It was if there was something that only she knew but wasn't keen to tell anyone else.

He shook his head and cracked a grin. "You remind me of mum right now." Ginny started at this declaration, almost as if she'd been pinched.

"What do you mean?" she asked warily, the tremor in her voice not going unnoticed by him.

"Mum had this way of knowing things about our lives that even we didn't know. She always knew when Fred and George were going to be up to no good. She could always tell that Charlie was going to run off and do something crazy like working with dragons. She was even the one that told me that I was in love with Hermione."

Ginny smiled at this, as if she were starting to remember these things too. "She always called you her special boy. She knew that one day you were going to make your mark on the world, and she was right. You saved the world, Ronnie." His ears began to turn red at the pride in her voice. He pulled up a handful of grass, embarrassed by her words.

"_Harry_ saved the world," he corrected her, but she shook her head.

"You all did. He could never have done it without you. Before she—well, _before_ she would talk everyday about how proud she was of you and how brave you were. That didn't stop her from being scared out of her wits, mind you. But, oh Ron… she was SO proud." Ginny's eyes were beginning to water up and so were Ron's.

He didn't think he'd ever get used to talking about his Mum in the past tense.

He could feel Ginny starting to shake next to him. When he hesitantly reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, she started to sob and bury her face into her hands.

"Oh god, Ginny," he spoke softly before taking her into his arms and holding her tightly against him. He tried to forget that he couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged her. Ron just sat there holding her and rocking her back and forth for what felt like forever. He didn't think about the cramp in his back that he was getting from holding her at such a strange angle. He didn't think about the fact that the body heat from holding her was making the heat ridiculous. All he thought about was holding onto her as tightly as he could and never letting go. He had failed her so much already, but not this time.

So even as the sun made its way higher into the sky, Ron held his baby sister because she needed him and it was the least he could do.

"Ron, it's all my fault!" he faintly heard her sob. He tried to look at her face but she refused to look up. He was confused.

"Ginny, what are you talking about? What's all your fault?" When she didn't answer, he grabbed her shoulders and held her an arms distance away. Her face looked tortured and he wondered how he'd never seen it before.

"Look at me," he commanded her. He shook her slightly to get her to look up at him. "You have to know this. Her death wasn't your fault!"

Ginny shook her head and try to free herself from Ron's grasp. "If I'd just stayed put like she told me, she wouldn't have died!" Ron shook his head.

"How do you know that? They're Death Eaters, Gin. They would have killed everyone!" He let her cry silently for a moment before speaking again. "She died protecting her children and grandchildren. That's all she ever wanted. She wanted us to be okay and we are… because of her. So please stop blaming yourself. No one else does. She never would have blamed you."

Ron hugged her again, whispering things that he hoped were comforting into her ear. He didn't stop until she quieted and pulled away. Wiping at her face, she resumed her position sitting next to Ron and staring off into the distance.

"Thanks Ron… for everything. I guess Harry's starting to rub off on me," Ginny said quietly, giving him a wry smile.

"That better be the only way that Harry is rubbing off on you," he responded, giving her a light shove. When she was conspicuously silent, he looked over at her sharply, the idea of Harry doing anything to his baby sister causing his face to turn red in anger. "That IS the only way he's rubbing off, isn't it?"

Before he could ask again, Ginny had grabbed two handfuls of grass and stuffed them down his shirt. She took off towards the house before he'd realized what happened. Hearing her laughter, he got up and took off after her, shaking the grass out of his clothes as he ran.

He was going to kill her, but it was nice to hear her laugh again.


End file.
