Separately Together Again

It was getting windier as the day progressed, and the sky was dark with the threat of rain.  Ron, however, didn't mind; he thought the weather suited his mood perfectly.

Scowling, he started up a grassy hill on the borders of the village of Hogsmeade.  All he could think about was the ring on Hermione's finger.  It was big, something he'd never have been able to afford.  His stomach clenched at the thought -- Hermione must've married Krum for his money.

But wait, what had Harry said?  She made more than Harry and himself combined, and yet she lived in a small, one-bedroom house, so no, she couldn't be marrying him for money. And why had he thought that anyway?  Hermione, superficial?  Why on earth would he think she--

Because she doesn't love you, a voice in the back of his head said, and though he'd never admit it, it was true.  She would never have married the boy he'd been, let alone the man he is now.  And Krum -- Krum was an international Quidditch star, rich, famous, handsome, everything a girl -- (he kicked a boulder angrily and almost cried out in pain) -- could ever dream for.  He stared at a patch of grass, remembering a time long ago.

****Flashback****

Ron sat on the train, not believing this was happening.  Would this really be the last time he rode the Hogwarts Express?  The last time he played Exploding Snap with Harry and Hermione?  He looked out the window, a sinking feeling in his stomach as the train slowed down; they were nearing King's Cross Station and he hadn't even said his good-byes.

"We're here," Harry said, a slight smile tugging his lips.  "We're ... we're at King's Cross."

Hermione smiled a little, then, without warning, pulled Ginny into a hug.  Ginny hugged her back just as forcefully.

"Promise you'll come visit," Ginny whispered into Hermione's neck.  "Promise."

"Of course," Hermione said, her voice breaking.

Ron felt Harry move beside him, and he pulled him into a one-armed hug.

"Best seven years of my life, mate," Ron said, his voice not his own.  Harry smiled, taking off his glasses, then shook his head.

"He's still out there, though," Harry frowned, and Ron knew he spoke of Voldemort.

"We'll get him next time."

Harry laughed, and Hermione hugged him as they heard the people in the other compartments leaving.  Gathering his things, Ron felt an odd sense in his stomach -- this was the last day of Hogwarts, and life couldn't possibly exist outside of school.

Pulling his carriage along behind him, watching as people hugged each other, hearing the sounds of the last day for the last time, he stepped off the train and into the brilliant sunlight.

"You'll come over during the summer, of course?" Ron asked Harry, as Ginny ran towards them, grinning.  Harry grinned.

"Of course," Harry laughed, hugging Ron again, then hugging Ginny.  Ron didn't say anything, but hid a knowing smile behind his hand when the hug lasted a split second longer than needed.  Naturally, they both pulled apart, blushing, and turned away from each other, Harry's eyes darting anywhere but Ron.

Ginny looked at Harry and muttered something; to this day, Ron still does not know what was said, and Harry stared at her for a moment before announcing, "Ginny and I have to talk, we'll ... be right back," and led Ginny twenty feet away, leaving Ron and Hermione alone.  His stomach suddenly lead, he turned to her to find her expression grave.

"Ron," she said, her voice oddly thick, and her eyes welled with tears.  "I'm ... I'm going to m-miss you so damn much."  Her voice broke on 'miss' and tears were now streaming down her cheeks freely.  Ron found he could say nothing, could do nothing but stare at her and admire her loveliness.

"Please," she said, then lowered her voice, "please tell me that these seven years have meant something to you."

But something had taken over Ron and he could not stop himself.

"They have, Hermione, of course they have," he said, and she suddenly threw herself at him, her lips inches from his and her arms around his neck.  He stared at her, his mind buzzing with thoughts and emotions, and she leaned in toward him.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice quiet as a whisper, but he remained still.

"I'll ... I'll always be your friend," he said, and she froze, her eyes searching his.  "And you and Harry will always be my best mates.  I'll ... I'll never forget."

He pulled away from her, his eyes wet with tears that wouldn't fall until much later that afternoon, and she stared at him with trembling hands.

And then she nodded, slowly and solemnly.

"Promise me," Ron started, before swallowing, "promise me you'll always remember."

But Hermione just stared at him, before shaking her head and whispering, "I can't."  And then she'd turned away, leaving him standing alone at the train station, his heart beating faster than it ever had.

Later that night, Ron would lie in bed, wondering if she would keep that promise.

Years later, they would both prove to keep their respective promises -- Hermione would move on, and Ron would never forget.

Harry stared at Ginny from across the table.  There had been four minutes of complete silence between them, and it was really getting awkward.  Really.

"The tuna casserole?" asked Madame Rosmerta, bringing over their meals.  Harry smiled, relieved to have the food as an excuse for not talking.

"That's mine," he said, taking the plate from her eagerly.  He started to pull out the peas (why they ever put peas in the stuff in the first place was beyond him), one by one, as Ginny took her ravioli parmesan.  She began to take a bite, then set down her fork.  Harry looked up to find her glaring at him.

"What?" he asked, his mouth full of noodle.  The corners of her mouth twitched, but her icy stare remained the same.

"You know what," she said impatiently, and folded her hands in her lap.

"I do?" Harry asked, swallowing his food and setting his fork down also.

"This, Harry, is the worst dinner I've ever had," she snapped.

"Well, I'll tell Rosmerta, she'll talk to the cooks -- "

"Oh, don't play dumb with me.  Why won't you just…Harry, there's something…there with us, tell me you notice it."

Harry stared at her, his mind blank.  So she wasn't clueless, and neither was he.

"Yeah, I know," he said, keeping her gaze, and she visibly seemed to untense.

"Thank God," she said, and she leaned forward.  "All right, so you aren't as oblivious as I'd thought."

Harry put a pea onto his spoon and flicked it at her.  It bounced off her forehead and landed directly into her ravioli.  She didn't even flinch.

"Harry, I think some people who think they know you need a reality check," she snarled, her voice dripping with anger.  She put her head in her hands and muttered something.  Harry leaned closer to her.

"What did you say?"

She continued to stare at her hands, but her voice was thick with emotion as she repeated quietly, "My love for you is a sign from the heavens, --

****Flashback****

" -- it's clear that I'm here for a reason, and that reason is to be by your side," the sixteen-year-old Weasley said to him, as her dark brown eyes sought his from underneath her curtain of bright red hair.  The impact of their shared look was enough to knock the wind from his very lungs.

"Ginny and I have to talk, we'll ... be right back," Harry managed, and he reached out and grabbed her arm, leading her away from Ron and Hermione and the other students milling around King's Cross.  He stopped and turned to stare at her.  Her face and ears were brilliantly red.

"Ginny," Harry said, and she looked up at him.

"I'm s-sorry," she cried, her eyes overflowing with tears.  "I l-lied to you, I kn-know.  But I thought that if y-you k-knew that I liked you then you'd get a-angry and you wouldn't w-want to talk to m-me ever ag-gain!"

Her voice had speeded up during the sentence, and Harry's brain was still processing her words.  "You ... you like me?"

"I love you, Harry," she sobbed and then turned away, wiping her eyes madly.

"Why didn't you -- "

"Merlin," she said, her voice still wavering but determinedly unfragile.  She turned to him again, and his feet felt glued to the floor.

"I -- I didn't know, Ginny," Harry said, still slightly confused.  "I think -- You can stop crying, now."

She laughed a little, wiping her face again.  "I know that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, and suddenly she started crying again.

"I thought that if you knew -- " at this she stomped her foot, " -- if you knew that I loved you, you wouldn't want to study with me anymore, or be my friend because you'd think -- I don't know what you'd think."  She seemed impatient to get out her thoughts.  Harry could sympathize.

"So, now what?" Harry asked, stepping towards her.

"I don't know," she said again.  "I don't know anything anymore, except that we're supposed to be together, I can feel it, Harry -- you've got to believe me."

Harry knew what she meant; long had Harry thought the same thing.  But he feared for her safety.  Voldemort had too many spies.  He would know about Ginny if something ever happened, and Ginny could get killed.

"Ginny, I can't," he said, and she simply stared at him.  "I love you, more than you know, ... but if your life is the cost of us being together, then I'm afraid I can't do this."

She nodded slowly, as if understanding, and to Harry's surprise, she didn't look angry. She laughed.

"The ever-brave Harry Potter, so noble that he denies love in order to spare his woman's life," she chuckled, and Harry suddenly felt nervous at the hollow tone of her voice.  "Fitting, isn't it?  But Cho by your side is fine and dandy, no?"

"That was different, Ginny," Harry said, his heart sinking; he'd thought she would understand ....

"Different my ass, Harry!" Ginny cried, her voice cracking, and she took a deep breath, shaking her head.  Then she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Ginny," Harry pleaded, hating how his voice sounded weak.  "Please, please - "

"No," she said flatly, and then, looking him directly in the eye, shook her head.  "It doesn't matter, anyways."

"Yes, it does - "

"I have to go," she said, and she adjusted her shirt a little.  "I hope to see you over the summer.  Good day."

As she walked past him, he touched her shoulder briefly with an outstretched hand. She shrugged him off, leaving him alone and confused in the middle of the train station.