The Four of Us

I remember the Daily Prophet reporting that, that summer was the hottest England had seen since 1843. Not that we needed the paper to tell us that, we had realized it on our own after Fred burnt the bottom of his feet walking across asphalt. It was so hot Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had resorted to putting cooling charms on the house. Mr. Weasley suggested that they install an air conditioner but Mrs. Weasley didn't like that idea at all.

Harry, Ron, and I had just finished our last year of Hogwarts. It was kind of sad really; knowing that I might never go there again; realizing that Hogwarts was no longer a part of our lives. I cried when we boarded the train home, Ron laughed at me but deep down I knew he realized the same thing I had. We spent the summer swimming in the Weasleys' lake; we slept out in the yard because . . .you know, I really don't know why we did it. But it was one the best experiences of my life.

Lying out on the grass, talking out everything until two or three a.m.; I remember praying that the summer wouldn't ever end. I remember wishing I could freeze time, and stay like that forever. Ginny curled up in Harry's arms, Ron watching them cautiously making sure Harry's hands didn't wander; me, telling him to calm down.

Crashed on the floor when I moved in
Stay up too late, and I'm too thin

Making pacts and promises for the future, promising each other we'd always be friends. Playing weird games Harry and Ron had invented, all of which included about three pages of rules and guidelines. That summer I went crazy, well, crazy for me anyway. Fred and George brought down four or five cases of fire whiskey the second weekend after school ended, I wasn't going to drink at first but Ron and Harry kept teasing me until I caved.

We promise each other it's til the end
Now we're spinning empty bottles, just the four of us
With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day

I ended up drinking just a little too much, and went skinny-dipping in the lake. God, they never let me live that down. You know, looking back on it I wouldn't want to forget that night; or anything about that summer for that matter.

No, I can't resist the day

I remember one night sometime during July---Harry's birthday I think it was---we were just finishing up the last of the fire whiskey when they announced on the Wizarding Wireless that Wormtail had been captured and was awaiting trial. We threw the biggest bash ever. Ginny seemed to be happier than anyone (save Harry) for some reason; she danced and danced until finally sometime around midnight when the whiskey kicked in and she fell asleep on the cool grass.

Ginny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes

Ron was our "entertainer" that summer. He had us laughing constantly, telling jokes about any and everything. When Ron started telling a story everyone went quite, waiting for the guaranteed laugh; it always came, always. I fell in love with him that summer.

Beer through the nose on an inside joke
I'm so excited, I haven't spoke

It scared me at first. He was my best friend, friends don't like each other like that; but I could help it. I just couldn't stifle the longing. To me, everything about him was beautiful. The way he smiled, the way his hair fell in his eyes, his loyalty, the way he was so protective of Ginny . . .the way he looked at me. One time, a few days into August, we were playing in the water, joking around and the like. I don't know how it came about but for some reason, he called me "babe". And instead of being my usual self and scold him, I just blushed. I knew I loved him, then.

Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I came undone at the things he said

Ron had this Chudley Cannons' shirt that he wore nearly every day. It was extremely faded and had so many holes I questioned, more than once, why he kept it. I think I still have it somewhere . . .

And he was so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt

I remember when Mr. Weasley brought back that turquoise Ford Angela, it was about a week after Ginny's birthday. He set the task upon Ron and Harry to repair it. When Harry would sneak off with Ginny I'd go sit with Ron while he worked on that old beat-up car. Ron and I would crawl into the backseat and talk whenever he would take a break. Don't ask me why we did it. The leather was hot and it stung the backs of my legs and the car smelled of gasoline and oil from all Ron's "repairing".

I snuck into his car's cracked leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat

My first time happened that summer also; ironically, in the back of the old Ford Angela. It hurt, but if was worth it. It's amazing how the love for one person, a love so simple, can overwhelm you to the point that you feel if you don't express it you will burst.

My first time, hard to explain
Rush of blood, oh, and a little bit of pain
On a cloudy day, it's more common than you think

I knew it couldn't last forever, I knew that at some point it would have to end, but I didn't want it to. I wasn't ready for it to end. I needed to be able to stay like that forever. I wanted to stay there, at the Burrow, with everyone I loved, where no one could harm us. Not the Minister of Magic. Not Voldemort. Not even God could take what we had. But somehow, as the summer ended it all evaporated.

These wounds will never mend

Everything is so different now. They're gone, all of them are gone. Harry, Ginny . . .Ron. I thought we were invincible, I was wrong. For the first time ever I was wrong, It seems like so long ago that we sat under that tree, drinking whiskey and talking about what we wanted from life.
I haven't been to the Burrow since Ron's funeral. I crawled into the backseat of that old Ford Angela and sobbed. I cried until my chest ached. Like I said, I haven't been to the Burrow since Ron's funeral; it's been six years. But I can't go back. Ever.

I feel so far from where I've been
So I go, and I will not be back here again

I try to remember the good times. Harry, Ron, and I walking down to visit Hagrid, Ginny and I chatting about school while we painted our toenails, or any happy memory whatsoever; but it's hard.

I lie, wrote my injuries all in the dust

And when I need the pain to go away for awhile I just think back to that summer; and even though it's only for a moment . . .the pain stops. You know, some memories aren't that important. You forget them, or they just slip away; some memories you want to leave. You push them away, lock them out, and any other thing possible to make them disappear. But some memories stick. You can't make them go away and you don't want to . . .I suppose what I'm trying to say is that . . . no matter how long I live, no matter what happens to me that summer will stay in my memory forever.

In my heart is the four of us