Shadows

Chapter 1: Ron - Scars

Three months later

Slowly, he traced the letters of the name on the gravestone.

Ginevra Molly Weasley

Ginny. Tears slowly streamed down his face. This could not be real. It was just a dream. A really bad dream, just like the ones he had been having a lot lately. She was not supposed to be dead. Innocent and young people like Ginny did not die. But she did, a little nagging voice in the back of his head kept saying to him. She was dead, gone forever, banished from life for eternity, freed from this hell to join the other angels beyond the veil. She was in a safe world now: one without pain.

Three months. That was how long she had been dead, three miserable months to the day. And that fateful day he would never forget... He only needed to look into the mirror to see it.

*~*

It was a beautiful day in the fall. The sun shone weakly, while the wind played with the already fallen leaves from the red trees. The smell of rain filled the air. The trio, Ginny and Neville were walking through Hogsmeade, Ron and Hermione bickering all the way about anything and nothing at the same time. There was no warning, no sign of what was to come. Just peace.

"But Hermione, there's no reason to start studying already!" Ron was looking exasperated.

"Honestly, Ron! They are our N.E.W.T.S! The most important exams we will ever take! We should not be wasting our time on these little trips. We should be studying!"

Ron was grinning madly. He lived to get a rise out of Hermione these days. It was simply too easy. "Then why did you come?"

Hermione turned red and shot Ron an angry glare.

Ginny laughed. "I hate to interrupt your lover's quarrel, but I need to check out this shop. I'll meet you guys at The Three Broomsticks in half an hour." Grinning, she took off swiftly.

"Lover's quarrel!" Ron grumbled with a significantly red face. "It's Hermione!"

This only seemed to upset Hermione more. She was now positively fuming with anger.

"So, I would be such a horrible girlfriend?"

Ron stared at her with an open mouth. She was absolutely beautiful when she was angry. Her eyes narrowed and darkened. Her bushy curls seemed even wilder than usual. Gorgeous. Hermione huffed, mumbled 'boys' under her breath and turned around, walking hastily towards The Three Broomsticks.

Ron watched her go, until the reality of what just happened sank in.

"I'm such an idiot!" he proclaimed to a very amused looking Harry and Neville.

"Your words, not mine," Harry laughed.

"Hermione! Wait! I did not mean it like that!" Bellowing, Ron took off after her, leaving Harry and Neville to follow, sniggering behind.

It was just an ordinary day. A day like any other. Everything seemed perfectly fine. The fights, the insults, the laughter. Then, horribly, they appeared out of nowhere. Black cloaks. Hundreds of them. They came from thin air, bringing fear with them. The comfort was gone; the safety vanished. Curses and spells flew across the sky. Incantations wove a web through the village. Screams, turmoil, anger, and pain.

Ron turned around immediately when he heard shouts of fear and started firing spells at any black cloak in his range. Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Any spell that came into his head. Frantically he scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of his friends.

"Hermione!" he yelled. "Harry! Neville!"

"I'm here," a soft voice said to the right of him.

Relief coursed through Ron's body. Hermione was safe and with him. Things would be all right now. If only they could find Harry. Then, someone popped into his head: Ginny! The image of his sister suddenly flashed before his eyes. She was in a shop when the Death Eaters attacked. She was not safe, not close to any of them. Not close to him, nor to Harry or Neville. Frantically, Ron threw spells left and right, ducking the ones that were meant for him. He had to find Harry and Neville, and then they could find Ginny. As determined as he was, he did not even feel the effects of the curses that hit him, slashed him, and wounded him until no amount of healing could cure it. Hermione followed behind him. Ron made sure she was close and shielded. She was also firing spells at each black cloak and mask within her sight. It was crazy. They were everywhere. Too many. They had to get out. That was the only way they might be able to survive.

As if their silent cry was heard, help suddenly arrived. Aurors and members of the Order were Apparating into the village everywhere. Many familiar faces were among them. Tonks. Moody. Kingsley. Arthur.

"Dad!" Ron screamed.

A shocked-looking Arthur made his way to his son and Hermione.

"Ron, what happened to you?" Arthur looked at Ron with a horrified look on his face.

"What do you mean, what happened to me? I'm fine!" His dad looked like he was going to protest, but Ron interrupted him. "Dad, it's Ginny!"

Immediately, Ron had Arthur's full attention. "What about her? Where is she?"

How could he explain this to his dad? Where would he start?

Suddenly, the fighting stopped. As sudden as the black cloaks had arrived, they disappeared again. An eerie silence kept the village in its hold. Silence created a world of shadows. Bodies were lying scattered across the whole town, some of them wearing white masks and black cloaks. The wounded were moaning or softly pleading for help. Ron took off swiftly towards the shop where Ginny had been heading to earlier. Hermione was close behind him. He needed to find Ginny. He needed to know if she was all right. He needed to have her in his safekeeping. Running, he dodged the crying, the wounded, and the dead, until he stopped abruptly in his tracks. No! His insides were screaming at the scene before him. No. Not real. Not happening. Just a dream. No.

He felt a small hand taking his and finally came out of his trance. Hermione stood beside him with her eyes filled with tears. Time slowed down, it even seemed to stop. Any minute now he would wake up and Harry would tell him that they were late for breakfast again. Any minute now. He closed his eyes, only to open them once more to drink in the scene before him.

Harry looked dishevelled and was covered in cuts, kneeling beside a puddle of blood, desperately clenching a piece of wood in his hands. Neville was just staring at Harry with a far look on his face, as if he was looking into eternity. Harry turned to look at them.

"Ron..." Harry's voice broke; his face had a haunted expression.

"No," Ron said. "No."

It was a weak, pointless denial.

"I tried to reach her... They performed a spell... So much blood... Limp body... They took her..."

A tear crossed Harry's pained face as he clutched the piece of wood in his hand harder and harder, until blood ran across his hand.

"No," Ron said in a soft voice. "No."

Denial, plain denial followed by so much pain. Never-ending, eternal pain.

*~*

It had been three months since Ginny was proclaimed dead. The Weasleys nor the Aurors had ever found her body. Only her broken wand and a massive amount of her blood. The Ministry suspected that the Death Eaters had taken her body as some sort of price. Rubbish. It was bloody rubbish. The Death Eaters had destroyed his little sister completely. Destroyed her essence, her purity, her energy. And they had let her body vanish so her family could not bury her where she belonged. At their family cemetery, resting peacefully in a serene garden. Instead they buried an empty coffin with just some pieces of her wand. No last look at her fine features, her stubborn red hair, her mischievous freckles. No last goodbye, no last words. The Death Eaters had taken that when they took her body.

"I miss you. I miss you so much."

Futile words, useless, unable to fill up the emptiness inside his heart, unable to express all the emotions coursing through his veins. Words were never his thing, but he wished now more than ever that he had the ability to put his feelings into words, like Hermione did. But that would still not be enough. Words would eventually still fall short. His fingers traced the letters of her name for one last time, desperately trying to feel her, to reach out and grasp her essence.

"See you soon."

Really soon. With those words, he got up and slowly walked back to the house.

Entering the kitchen, he came face to face with his mum. The broken shell of his mum: greyish hair, tired eyes, and slumped body. She had turned old in three months. Her worst fear had come true: she had lost one of her children to Voldemort, a mere child, her youngest and only girl. The girl that had resembled her in so many ways. It hurt Ron to see her like this.

"Ron."

Her voice was weak, deprived of the strength and power it used to possess. His name, a small word, a broken word that passed her lips softly. He knew what she meant instantly, and nodded, giving her a wan smile. Tears filled her eyes and she turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her cry. But he had seen do that so much in the past weeks. Christmas, it had gotten a different meaning. It was no longer a time of joy, happiness and all-round chaos when their family would meet, with his mother being the source and centre of it. The source had dried up, had nothing left to give. Everything had withered, dried up and turned dark. Christmas had changed into a time of sadness, sorrow and eerie silence.

"Wash your hands and face before dinner, dear."

Softly she spoke the words, very gently, almost as if she would break right that instant if she said anything too loud. Ron headed towards the stairs, slowly. Slow motion...everything seemed to go in slow motion. That was the way he felt time pass. It crept by very slowly, toying with him, teasing him along the way. He passed Hermione and Harry. His friend wore the same grave expression he had worn for several months now. Frozen in time. Hermione gave him a small smile and he drew comfort out of her soft big brown eyes. Her presence was soothing and reassuring. With all the strength left in him at the moment Ron managed to offer her one of his rare smiles.

At the top of the stairs he stopped and looked at the door leading to Ginny's old room. Something drew him to the door and before he knew it he had opened it. Looking inside, her smell filled every fibre of his body, taking him over. Memories flooded him. Ginny smiling. Ginny angry at him because he refused to let her fly with him; Ginny running after him to retain her teddy bear; Ginny giving him a secret smile when she covered for him to their mother; Ginny laughing madly if Fred or George had gotten him again with one of their jokes; Ginny conspiring with the twins in a corner; Ginny waving at him when he left in the Hogwarts' Express for the first time; Ginny crying when their cat died... Ginny.

Tears were rolling once again across his cheeks. The room was unchanged. Her presence so prominent, like she never left; there to remind him, to reassure him, to tell him she was still there, still caring and looking after him. Still there, like there was no hole in the house. No hole in their family. No hole in his heart.

His hands shook. The pain of her loss was becoming unbearable. It was an ache in his heart that would never die, that would always be there. Shaking, he closed the door and made his way to the bathroom where he stood motionless before the mirror. Unrecognisable. His face was unrecognisable. Marked for all time. A reminder of Ginny and of that fateful day forever.

Slowly, he brought his fingers towards his face and traced the ugly scar that graced his face, a scar from the right end of his right eyebrow to his left ear. Disfigured, ugly and scarred, his sentence for life, his punishment for not being able to save Ginny. For not being there when she needed him the most. Scarred for eternity. There had been times when he had envied Harry for his scar, wanting one of his own. Desperately wanting to be recognised, to be popular. That had changed. A scar was a menace, a pain that would never leave, that would forever remind him of the pains that only life could bring. Forever a reflection of the torments inside his soul.

"Ron! Hurry up! Dinner's ready!" Fred yelled upstairs, bringing him back to reality.

Quickly he washed his face and hands, avoiding looking at his image in the mirror. His heart ached with pain, sorrow, and fear for what was to come. Reluctantly he walked downstairs to join his family for their Christmas dinner. For all he knew it could be his last one. Maybe soon he would be able to join Ginny. Maybe soon he would be freed from his personal hell. With a grim smile he took his place at the family table.

A table with one achingly empty chair.