Without Deja Vu

He knew he must do it, must do it now. If there were ever something that needed done immediately, it was this. He didn't know how much time either of them would have left. The war was waging, and with death a possibility every time a member of the Order left the house, he couldn't keep putting it off. His stomach twisted at the idea of offering this intimate confession, but his heart ached even more at the thought of losing her without her ever knowing.

He had no idea how to do it, how to begin, only that this sense of urgency was unbelievable. His hands shook and he felt slightly light-headed. I must do this, he told himself firmly. He hadn't told Ginny, or even Harry what he had planned. They stood apart, eyes averted as he moved toward her. She was outside, so it would be just a simple thing of plopping down beside her in the grass and explaining what was on his mind. Did she already know? How would she react? What if she didn't feel the same, what if she scoffed or laughed? Or was disgusted? That was the price he'd have to pay, he decided. This need to tell her was overwhelming.

He finally approached her little spot and crouched down, uncomfortable and very aware of his awkward limbs. She was always so perfect when she folded her legs under her or when she stretched out on the common room couch. He cleared his throat.

"Um, I...uh, are you having a good day? I sort of am, the sun is bright today. Really bright. Yeah. Days like today are a pain for me, being so pale and everything." Ugh, I shouldn't be rambling, let her talk...but no, I just need to let everything out, tell her how I feel, then she can say all she wants.

Giving her no chance to speak, he continued. "You and I know as good as anyone that our time here might be cut short, very short. Voldemort could take any of us and so I need to tell you something really, really...special." God that sounded dumb. But he continued. "You have to know something. I actually, um, kind of like you, Hermione. Not like, no. I actually think that I...um...I think that I love you." He hoped with all his heart that Ginny and Harry weren't listening. "You always make my life happy. Whenever I see you, everything just lights up like nothing I've ever known. Even when we fight, I know it's because you care. I never want you to leave, because I don't think I can live without you...you are, you are, Hermione...God, Hermione...why...." His words were lost in broken sobs.

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Harry and Ginny were both facing the road, their backs to Ron. Ginny was fighting back the inevitable tears and Harry was glaring hard into the distance.

"Every fucking year," he said through gritted teeth.

"And he never even gets any better, still bumbling, still unsure." Ginny gave a wry smile; she was trying to lighten the mood.

"If he didn't kill them, he fucked them up so badly they turn out like this!" He flung his arm toward Ron, who remained crouched over the headstone, crying into his arms. "Of course, if Ron had had any balls at all as a teenager, we wouldn't be going through this...we'd visit, yeah. But we'd still have Ron."

"Harry!" Ginny said severely. "You cannot blame this on Ron! It's not his fault. He was only a boy. You know how long it took you to tell me how you felt! It was Voldemort who took away both their lives and you know it." She finished quietly and Harry turned away.

"I hate seeing him like this," he whispered. "He's calm and friendly every other day. Not himself, but manageable. But when this time comes around..."

"How does he know?" Ginny asked. "How does he know when it happened? He's so traumatized by losing her that he can't make his own toast, yet he can mark the day in his mind perfectly."

*"Ginny! Ginny!" Ron was tugging at her sleeve.

"Yes?" She knew exactly what he wanted, she'd never forget. Even if he weren't the way he was, she would remember this day and its events always.

"I need to go somewhere."

"Where?"

"I need to see someone!" He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with urgency. Tears of anxiety were forming in his eyes. "I need to tell someone something very important!"

To keep him from completely losing himself to panic, she kept him talking as she found her keys and waited for Harry. "Who do you need to speak to?"

"I can't tell you Ginny, you'd laugh!" He looked positively fearful now.

"No I wouldn't honey, of course I wouldn't." She'd had much practice reassuring him, and now carefully rubbed his back.

"I just have to see her, NOW!" The tears were flowing freely by the time Harry hurried down the stairs.

"You ready Ron?" Harry asked as if nothing were wrong.

Ron nodded and whispered, "I hope she's there."

"I think I saw her sitting on the grass reading only a few minutes ago..." Harry said. Ron looked relieved. He would worry and be embarrassed until his arrival at the cemetery, when he would jump out of the car and finally say her name;

"I have to go and tell Hermione something! It's really important!" He sounded most normal then, like he did as a 17 year-old boy. *

"It's the wonder of the human mind Ginny," Harry said bitterly.

"Do you think he'll ever forgive himself?"

Harry was silent for a moment. "Only when he can tell her face-to-face."

Suddenly Ron came slouching up behind them.

"How'd it go?" asked Ginny gently, though she already knew the answer, it was the same every time.

Ron sighed heavily and wiped at his eyes. "She left. She's gone."

"I'm sure she was just so happy to know that you feel the same way she does that you made her cry. And you know that women hate to be seen crying. It messes up their makeup. So she probably ran to go get a tissue to clean up or something." Harry made up a different line every year, even though it didn't matter. He definitely liked this year's, number 10, the best.

"Yeah!" Ron said, looking elated. "You're right. She must be so happy. I'm so happy. We will be so happy." His features changed. "Wait, Hermione doesn't wear makeup."

"But her eyes will still get all red and puffy, and we can't have that," Ginny jumped in.

"Ah," Ron said knowingly. "Of course."

Harry slipped behind Ron and grabbed Ginny's hand. By the time he had ambled to the car, Ron would have forgotten about the whole experience for another year. He would have no idea why they were at the cemetery and would probably ask for ice cream on the way home.

No one had any idea that Ron would be affected by Hermione's death the way he had, nor had Harry and Ginny thought that this yearly task would fall to them, though they wouldn't have trusted anyone else.

Ron was waiting by the car door. They had to use muggle transportation because there was no way Ron could have any kind of magic performed on him in his state. His eyes were scanning the grounds.

"Are these little houses?" he asked Harry, motioning to the gravestones.

"Yup."

"Who lives there?"

"Loads of people."

"Anyone I know?"

"A couple."

"Why can't I visit them?"

"We'll bring you back later."

"Promise?"

"Yup." Harry's eyes met his best friend's open blue ones. How could Ron have become so lost? Harry's two best friends were gone...Ron's absence was much more painful to Harry than Hermione's. Not because he loved her less, but because her death was definite, concrete. Ron just hung on to a strand of life that was fit for no one, least of all Ron, who was courageous beyond anyone's expectations. Who had stuck by Harry for all those years. Whose only faults were being an enemy of Voldemort and harboring a stupid fear of rejection. Harry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his best friend. Ron squeezed tightly back.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Ron."

Ginny buried her face in her hands in the front seat.

Ron pulled away suddenly. "Hey, do you think we could get some ice cream?"

"Of course we can!" Ginny answered, as Harry moved around to the driver's seat, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.