Scattered

Ron watched from across the room as Ginny finally disengaged herself from her mother's arms. The two of them had been locked in an embrace from the moment Ginny had bounded up the stairs and into the common room. As the minutes ticked by, Ron had greeted the other arrivals -- Justin Finch-Fletchley, Colin Creevey and Professor McGonagall -- along with everyone else. No one wanted to disturb the reunion going on between Molly Weasley and her only daughter.

His dad had joined them for a moment, kissing Ginny on the head. He'd greeted Colin next, though, and taken him aside to sit in a corner of the room. Colin's back was to the others, but Ron could see his father's face set in gentle lines as he answered Colin's questions. Ron turned away, feeling as if he was intruding on something private.

Hermione was talking animatedly to Professor McGonagall, and Ron had to say that his old Transfiguration teacher looked almost happy. Her usually stern features were arranged in a way he'd thought she reserved only for Quidditch matches where Gryffindor won. She looked less forbidding overall and wore sensible, plain clothes but no wizarding robes. A bit like Great-Aunt Gracia, actually, friendly in that tough Highland sort of way.

Ron himself had just finished describing the island's Quidditch pitch to Justin. Ron didn't remember ever seeing the other boy play -- Justin was muggle-born, after all, and had never heard of the sport until he'd started Hogwarts -- but he'd been an enthusiastic audience nonetheless.

"Maybe we can play a bit later on today?" Justin said eagerly.

Ron started to nod, and then remembered. "Dad's organized a funeral later for Colin's brother," he said in a low voice, "and for Neville."

Justin's face fell and he looked briefly over at Colin. "I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. Neville... he was a good guy."

Ron glanced at Colin as well. "How's Creevey doing?"

"Bloody awful," Justin replied quietly. "Remember how he was always this, well, sort of annoying kid? Always taking pictures, popping up everywhere. You should know, he followed Harry everywhere."

"Yeah."

"Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I wish that annoying bloke was back. He's just wrecked. He was really close to his brother."

"I remember," Ron said.

Justin sighed. "I tried to talk to him, you know, lend an ear? But, hell, I'm no good with stuff like this. What do I know? That didn't stop your sister, though."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Ginny's really been there for him. They were friends before, you know? I guess he can talk to her easier to than anyone else. Anyhow, he told me she's helped him a lot. Good egg, Ginny is."

Ernie Macmillan came into the room at a run; in a moment, he and Justin were standing and thumping each other on the back, talking in great bursts about "Hufflepuffs together again", both unabashedly glad to see each other. Ron smiled and moved away to leave them to it; he'd always been surrounded by Gryffindors wherever he went, at home or at school, so he could only barely imagine what it felt like to not have any housemates around for all this time. Not that any of that matters anymore, though, I guess.

Ron wandered across the room just in time to see Ginny and Hermione slowly approach each other. Ginny was beaming, her arms outstretched. Hermione stepped forward and threw her arms around her friend, tears streaming down her face, and the two girls began talking at once, laughing, their words overlapping each other, both utterly relieved to be together again.

He watched Hermione's face shift and change, the tears still falling even as her eyes lit up in a way he hadn't seen in weeks. Her laughter drifted over to him as Ginny poked her teasingly on the arm; she scanned the room, then, and found Ron. She smiled and gestured to Ginny.

Ron caught Ginny just as she careened into him.

"Ooof," he said, stumbling a bit. "Heck, Gin, are you trying to knock me out?"

"That's it exactly, of course," she shot back, and Ron laughed, feeling just slightly more whole than he had in awhile. The world may have turned upside-down, but Ginny was still a smartass.

She was a little taller, though, he saw as she pulled back and grinned up at him. Taller than Hermione now, her arms and legs lankier. Her hair was shorter than it had been over the summer, just past her shoulders. She was pale, he thought; there were circles under her eyes.

"You look tired," he said.

Ginny laughed. "Still great with the compliments, huh?"

"I just meant--"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I am tired. Too tired to tease, even. Mum said you and Hermione could show me where my room is?"

Ron nodded, though he was surprised. "Mum's letting you out of her sight already?"

"She and Dad are going to be with Colin for a bit."

Hermione joined them then, bringing over Ginny's bags and handing them to Ron. "Let's go upstairs so you can get settled in," she said.

She led the way out of the common room and up to the third floor, or "Weasley Row", as Charlie had started calling it. Hermione had told Ron a bit about her explorations the day before and Ron now knew that the castle boasted six floors altogether, some of them empty right now. Mum had it all planned out, where each person would be staying, and according to Hermione the castle had quite a bit of room to spare. Ron had to confess that aside from their room, and the common area, he found the castle to be a bit dark and dreary.

"Well, that's because no one's been living here for so long," Hermione had replied reasonably. "That'll change."

They'd reached Ginny's room (Ron was glad Hermione remembered which one was his sister's, because he certainly didn't) and he followed them inside, tossing the bags on the floor next to the bed.

Ginny liked the room; she ran up to the windows and, kneeling on the cushioned bench there, peered out at the grounds. "This is a beautiful island," she said wistfully.

Hermione shot Ron an anxious look. He'd heard the sad tone in her voice as well.

"Have you heard from Harry?" Ginny asked bluntly, without turning around.

Ron couldn't seem to find the words to answer her.

"Once," Hermione said for them both. "He had Pigwidgeon with him, you see. Ron had just sent him a letter, so Harry was able to convince Moody to let him send Pig back with a note to Ron. He didn't know I'd be there as well, of course."

Ginny turned around and smiled understandingly. "It's okay, Hermione. I'm not mad. I just want to know what you've heard."

"It wasn't much," Ron finally replied. "He just said he was with Moody and Hagrid, and that they're looking for the horcruxes. Well, he didn't say that outright, of course, but he knew we'd know what he meant."

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I mean, he was when he wrote."

The silence stretched between them after that and Ron cursed himself for pointing out the obvious: that Harry was in danger, all the time, while they were all together and safe. Ginny turned around again and stared out the windows. He couldn't see her face but he knew his sister well enough to know that she was crying. She didn't want them to see, of course, and he felt like the most ineffectual buffoon in the world for not being able to do something for her, anything.

"And he was okay three weeks ago," Hermione added. "It turns out that Dobby is with him as well. He was here, in Liath Cuan, visiting Winky. Just Dobby. But he told her that Harry's okay."

Ron took a deep breath and squeezed Hermione's hand in sheer gratitude. He met her eyes, trying to convey how thankful he was that she was there, helping him through this. How glad he'd been all along, really, since this nightmare began.

Hermione smiled and leaned into his side, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder.

"Well," Ginny said brightly. "You too look awfully cozy."

Ron swung around abruptly and found Ginny grinning at them. He felt his face and ears flame red with embarrassment, and then, just as Hermione nudged his arm in a reassuring way, he noticed Ginny's red eyes, the tracks of tears on her face, and yet, the smile on her lips.

"I'm glad," Ginny said.

"That's what kind of brother I am, Gin. I'll do anything to cheer you up," he said, keeping the same light tone she'd used with him. Hermione snorted delicately.

"Including finally getting your head out of your ass?" his sister asked.

"Yep, even that," he agreed amicably, returning her grin.

"Well, for that you get to be my favorite brother... let's see... every second Monday of the month."

"I think I deserve Tuesday, as well."

"Hey, I've got a lot of brothers. Don't press your luck," Ginny told him, and then she came over and gave Hermione a fierce hug of congratulations. "I told you he'd come around."

Ron was flabbergasted. "You told her? You knew?!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're joking, right? Ron, the whole school knew."

Hermione laughed and perched on a corner of Ginny's bed. "Stop picking on him, Gin. I'll tell you all the details some other time when we're alone."

"Not all of them," Ron said apprehensively.

"But there is something we wanted to ask you to keep a secret for us," Hermione continued as if Ron hadn't spoken. "If that's okay."

Ron shook his head and slumped in a chair. If it was okay? Ginny couldn't resist secrets. Ever since they were little kids, he'd been able to bribe her into almost anything as long as he had a secret to tell her as payment. Of course, that had gotten a little more difficult the older they'd gotten. Five year-old Ginny might be content to trade ice cream cones for the knowledge that Mum and Dad had gotten her a new doll for her birthday, but by the time she was ten she'd upped her prices. Dirt on the twins, gossip about Bill or Charlie, eventually it had all gotten to be old hat. His first summer home from Hogwarts, though, he'd conned her into de-gnoming the garden with him in exchange for stories about the famous Harry Potter. That had been a good summer, he thought nostalgically.

"Of course it's okay," Ginny was saying, as he'd predicted. "What is it?"

"My room's right next door," Hermione told her. "And, well..."

Ron smiled. She looked a little flustered. It was funny how she could get prudish about talking about their sleeping situation (living situation, now, really) but not about actually doing it. "My room's down the hall," he continued, taking pity on her. "But I haven't been using it. Get it?"

He chuckled appreciatively as he saw Hermione's skin flush in the almost imperceptible way it did. For years he'd missed it, but after months of sleeping beside her, he'd learned to see the smaller things. The way she sometimes covered her mouth when she laughed, except when they were alone; the way she rubbed her feet together at night, when she was trying to fall asleep; and, the way she blushed when she was embarrassed, the flush of her skin so subtle that it was easy to miss entirely.

Ginny grinned at him. "Not being born yesterday, yes, I get it." She leaned over and took Hermione's hand in hers reassuringly. "I won't tell anyone. And I think it's wonderful," she said.

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad," she said. "Bill knows. So does Charlie. And Penny and Percy. Really, it's just your parents. I don't want them to think less of me."

"Not possible," Ginny said, "but Mum would probably throw Ron to the dragons, so it's best she doesn't know, regardless." She paused then, and turned to include Ron as well, saying, "Penny and Percy got married, huh? He seems less git-ish."

"Yeah, he does," Ron agreed. "Actually, it's kind of weird. He's a lot nicer than he ever was before. I think... I think in some ways he needed to go off on his own for awhile. I mean, he didn't need to be a prat about it, but still."

Ginny gave him an odd look.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing," she said. "You're probably right."

"Then what's with the funny look?"

His sister laughed. "Just that: you're probably right. Never thought I'd have to say that, you know?"

He threw a pillow at her. She ducked and threw it back. "There's something you don't know, though," he said, putting his feet up and arranging the pillow behind his head.

"About what?" she asked.

"As if I'd give up information that easily, and for nothing in return."

"Ron, if you don't tell me--"

"What, you'll throw another pillow at me? Nah, you'll just have to wait and find out later," he said smugly.

Ginny scowled at him at first, but then she smiled, slowly, like the cat that ate the canary. "That's fine, Ron." She turned to Hermione. "What's he on about?"

"Penny's having a baby," Hermione replied.

"Hermione!" Ron roared.

"She is?!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione nodded happily. Both girls ignored Ron's sputtering and laughed. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that it was the best news their family had had in a long time, and he couldn't help but smile along with them.

Ron had never spent much time around babies. There were a few cousins around and about, younger than he, and he could vaguely remember big family gatherings with everyone oohing and ahhing over the newest additions to the clan. Vaguely, though, because as a boy he'd thought it was an awful lot of fuss over something that cried all the time, had gross, disgusting nappies that needed changing, and didn't do much of anything to justify so much interest.

Even now, he didn't feel quite the same excited anticipation that Hermione and Ginny, and his Mum, of course, seemed to have about the baby's arrival. It wasn't the baby itself he felt happy about, it was the fact that something good was happening, something that they could all be happy about. Something that didn't put anyone in danger, or hurt anyone, or make anyone worry. Just a completely good thing. Finally.

They stayed in Ginny's room for some time. Mum and Dad came by after awhile and sat with them for a bit, making sure Ginny was settled in. As they were leaving, Ron saw his father pause and give Ginny a hug, whispering something in her ear that made her eyes shine. When their parents were gone, Ron couldn't help asking, nosily, what he'd said.

Ginny sighed and tucked her feet under her legs. "He said -- well, he said he was proud of me. For helping Colin get through the past couple of months."

"It must have been hard for him," Hermione said. "I'm sure you helped him a lot."

"I just tried to be there for him," Ginny said, shrugging. "You know, I know he always came off as a bit, well, enthusiastic, to put it mildly. That camera... and following Harry around... but he told me a lot about his family, while we were at the safehouse together. They were really close. His parents, him, Dennis -- they did everything together. Family trips, and games, and discussions every night at the supper table. Close," she repeated, trailing off.

"His parents weren't at all uncomfortable with having two wizards in the family?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head. "They thought it was fantastic." She paused and looked away. "When we came to get Colin that day, that was hard enough. He didn't want to leave his parents, and he certainly didn't want to leave his brother, but he didn't complain or argue. Neither did Dennis. They didn't like it, you could tell, but they accepted it. So they just hugged goodbye and laughed and said they'd see each other soon. And then we were gone, and a few days later, at the safehouse, we heard what had happened... and Colin just... he just can't handle the fact that he's never going to see his brother again."

Ron frowned. "What about their parents? No one ever said--"

"They're okay," Hermione interjected. "They were at work when it happened. I asked Bill."

They were all sprawled out on the bed together at this point, with Ginny leaning up against the headboard and Ron stretched out on his side at the foot of the bed, Hermione sitting up next to him in the crook of his body. He trailed his fingers up and down her arm and watched her face as she thought, he knew, of her own parents, and how much their safety meant to her.

"I can't believe that Neville's gone," Ginny said finally. "I know that sounds trite but -"

"No, I understand," Hermione told her in a quiet voice. "I was... I was there, and I still can't quite believe it either. Sometimes it just seems as if he could still come back, even though I know he can't."

"How did it happen?" Ginny asked hesitantly. "I don't want to... I mean, if it's hard to talk about, you don't have to tell me but..."

"It's okay," Hermione reassured her.

Ron listened silently while Hermione related the events of that fateful day, how she and Neville had come upon Malfoy and Nott by accident, about having their wands taken away from them and then, how Neville had protected her with his own life. He knew it was painful for Hermione to talk about, but he also knew that she wanted everyone to know how brave Neville had been, how selfless, and so she didn't care if it was hard for her. All that mattered was that Neville's actions should be known, and honored. Ron knew there was nothing he could ever do to express how grateful he felt to Neville, how much what he'd done meant to them all. And how much he was going to miss his friend.

Ginny was crying by the time Hermione finished, and Ron knew she understood. "You never knew how he felt?" she asked Hermione.

She shook her head. "I didn't. I feel... I hope I never hurt his feelings," she said in a worried voice.

"I don't think you did," Ginny answered.

Ron could almost swear he sensed something in his sister's tone, in the way she'd answered. "Did he say something to you?" he asked.

"A long time ago," Ginny admitted. "And we never talked about it again. But I knew, and I could tell he didn't feel slighted or anything, Hermione. I think he knew you'd never picked up on his feelings, and he was just glad to be your friend."

Hermione looked thoughtful and then nodded, accepting what Ginny had told her. "When did he tell you?"

Ginny smiled fondly. "I never told you that Neville gave me my first kiss," she said.

Ron couldn't help but be surprised. "What? When? But I thought--"

"He took me to the Yule Ball, remember?" Ginny said. "While he wasn't much of a dancer, we did have a very fun time. And at the end of the night, he kissed me."

Hermione looked less surprised than Ron felt, but just as confused. "That's sweet, Gin, but I don't understand."

"It was just a kiss goodnight," Ginny said with a small laugh. "Nothing serious. But it was my first kiss, and he did surprise me a little. It must have showed, because then he got all embarrassed, and apologized, thought he'd done something wrong, went on about how he just thought that was the 'proper way to end a lovely evening', which was undoubtedly exactly what his grandmother had told him. I reassured him that it was, but then we got to talking, and we ended up staying up for a few hours, just chatting, talking over the dance and so on. He talked about how beautiful you'd looked, and I asked him if he fancied you, and he said yes."

"I wish you'd told me," Hermione murmured, but then she sighed. "Though, maybe it's for the best I never knew. I might have hurt his feelings or... oh, I don't know."

Ginny reached over and squeezed her hand briefly. "Don't fret about it. He made me promise not to say anything about it to anyone. And he was so embarrassed about it, I didn't tease him and just changed the subject. He really was... a good person," she said.

Ron agreed. "The best."

"Ron?" Ginny asked then in a small voice. "I can't stop thinking about George. Do you think..."

"I don't know," he replied, knowing what her fears were because he shared them. "No one's said anything. I tried talking to Bill and Charlie about it, and Charlie says he can't go looking for George because he can't jeopardize the Order that way."

Ginny nodded, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. "But there has to be something..."

"Let's ask Dad," Ron suggested. "Even if there's nothing, well, I just think we should ask Dad."

Hermione nodded reassuringly. "You should. He'll tell you everything he can." She climbed off the bed and went over to Ginny, giving her a quick hug. "I have to go and get ready for the funeral," she said with a sad smile. "You should get unpacked and rest for a bit, maybe."

"I want to go and talk to Charlie and Bill for a bit, first, but I will," Ginny promised.

"Good."

Ron followed Hermione out into the hallway, turning at the door to give his little sister one last grin. "I'm glad you're here, Gin. I've been dying for a good game of chess."

She laughed. "I'll beat you yet," she vowed.

"Don't hold your breath," he told her. "But I will admit, you're the only one who gives me a run for my money."

They smiled at each other, and Ron knew that Ginny understood what he was trying to say: that he'd missed her like hell, and he was more relieved than he could ever admit that they were together again. They never said things like that to each other, but Ron knew, without words, that his sister felt just the same.

* * * * *

The sun was just beginning to set as the funeral began.

They were assembled in a clearing, rows of folding chairs arranged to face two wooden coffins, one slightly smaller than the other. His mum and dad stood at the back, greeting each person who arrived. The Diggorys, Ernie, Justin and everyone else from the castle, some of the McFustys they'd met the other day, and a few they hadn't yet, came as well.

Ron sat beside Hermione, in the front row. On her other side, Ginny sat with Colin. Ron snuck a sideways glance at his former schoolmate. Colin's face was pale, his cheeks sunken. He looked much thinner than Ron remembered him being at Hogwarts. Ginny had a friendly arm around his shoulders, but he was staring ahead at his brother's coffin, not seeming to sense anything else around him.

Once everyone was seated, his parents came up to the front. His mum sat down next to Ron, leaving an empty chair on her other side. His father stood between the two coffins and waited until all eyes were turned towards him.

"Thank you all for coming today," he said simply. "It's with a heavy heart that I asked you all to join me this evening to honor two young men who have left us too soon." Turning his kind face to the boy at Ginny's side, he said, "Colin Creevey would like to say a few words about his brother, Dennis."

Colin stood on shaky legs. Ron watched his father take him warmly by the hand and murmur words of encouragement, too low for them to hear. Colin nodded and took his place.

For a long moment Colin simply stood there, next to his brother's coffin, his eyes staring down at the ground. No one spoke, or moved, and finally the boy looked up. His eyes were red but his cheeks were dry.

"Professor McGonagall asked if my parents wanted Dennis to be buried in a family plot, or some such," he began abruptly. "But I knew they wouldn't. They wanted Dennis to be here, with us, because being a wizard made him so happy. It made all of us happy. My parents said they'd rather he was here, in our world... that they liked to... liked to think of it as him being off on a great adventure." Colin stopped, his face contorting, and when he began again his words were laced through with sobs. "And I know they're right. Except... he's... he's gone and... and now there... now there won't be... be any more adventures for us."

Ron felt Hermione's hand reach for his own, her small fingers gripping his tightly. He glanced at Ginny; there were tears running down her face as she watched her friend with compassion.

Colin looked at Ginny; she gave him an encouraging smile and he nodded and took a deep breath. "Thank you for coming here today," he said, his eyes sweeping over the seats and taking everyone in. "It would have meant so much to him. It means so much to me."

He said nothing more, just turned and trailed his hand along the small coffin, back and forth, once. Then he just stood there, his hand resting against the gleaming wood, his eyes closed. Ron saw his father stand and move to Colin's side; the younger boy opened his eyes and, with a sad smile, sat back down.

Hermione gave his hand a final squeeze and then she stood, taking his father's place as Colin had. She had a small piece of paper in her hand. The sun was lower now but the last rays of light were still catching her hair in hints of red and gold. She wore a dark black shawl over a simple floral print dress and it fluttered around her knees in the breeze.

"I tried to decide what I wanted to say about Neville today," she began. "What I wanted to tell you about him, especially those of you who may not have had the chance to know him very well. I tried to think how I could explain to you how wonderful he was, how considerate, caring, brave and loyal he was. What an amazing friend he was.

"Then I realized that I never really can explain how special he was. You had to know him to understand. And if you did know him... then you don't need me to tell you any of this."

She paused and unfolded the paper she'd been holding. "What I can tell you, though," she continued, "is how much I'm going to miss him. I'll always miss Neville, but I also feel as if a part of him will always be with us... with me. That's what he wanted, to be there for his friends, always, and to do... anything... for the people he cared about. And Colin," she said kindly, "I know your brother was just the same. And so I wanted to read this poem because I think it's what Neville, and Dennis, would want to say to us now.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die."