007.
Broken
She didn't deny the inevitable - reality would always win out over delusion so she never bothered with pretending (it would only make the hurt worse in the end). The truth was that they couldn't stop others from becoming involved in this of their own choice. She hated that he blamed himself constantly; he needed to learn that people's own choices were not his responsibility. All the years she had known him he took the blame for things he couldn't stop from happening, things he had no control over, and sometimes it made her so angry; she just wanted him to realize he didn't have to carry the faults of the world on his shoulders. Not everything was his burden. She watched Ron getting a butter beer from the refrigerator, open the bottle, and watched as he swallowed a mouthful. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and strode towards them. She looked down at the map in front of her, pretending it was where her attention had been all the time.
"They'll be here soon," he said to the both of them. Harry looked up at him.
"It's not right," he said, shaking his head slightly. "They shouldn't come here. This isn't their battle."
"It's everyone's battle," Hermione argued. "You just seem to bear the brunt of it."
"You know you can't go it alone, mate," Ron said quietly. "They're your friends, too; they'd never let you do it alone, and neither would we."
"They shouldn't come," he said again. He looked back down at his book; it was hard to look Ron in the eyes lately.
"They'll be here soon," Ron repeated and left the kitchen.
It was late evening when they arrived. Harry and Hermione could hear their voices floating in from the other room. Neville's voice had gotten deeper over the years but still very recognizable, and Luna's voice was still melodic and slightly sing-songed at times. They could easily hear Ron's distinctive voice as he was talking to them. Harry and Hermione closed the books they were reading, researching ways to keep him alive (because she refused to accept he wouldn't live through this, not after all they had been through, and what he still had to go through). She ran her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes.
"You're exhausted, Harry," she said softly. "Maybe we should save the proper greetings for breakfast."
"I don't want to be rude," he replied as he opened his eyes and she took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.
"I think they'll understand, Harry," she replied. "Besides, I think Ron has it under control." He nodded and kept hold of her hand as they stood to leave the table.
The sitting room was warm from the crackling fire and Ron, Luna, and Neville were standing in a half-circle by the sofa. Harry noted that Remus and Tonks weren't present, meaning they had gone to patrol the area, making sure any dark forces stayed away.
"Hello, Harry," Luna said softly. Somehow, her eyes looked different than he remembered. Ron and Neville followed her gaze. It still felt slightly awkward around Ron. He hadn't lost his temper like they expected him to when they told him they were together, but things had been tense. He fancied Hermione then and the way he averted his eyes told them he fancied her still. He didn't make a fuss, at least not to Hermione's knowledge. He and Harry had had words and it ended there, and neither of them felt Hermione need know about it.
"Why her, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, his face pained with no anger present. "You could any bloody girl you want. Why Hermione? Why did you have to pick the one girl I could see myself with?"
"Because I love her," Harry replied softly. "I love her so much, Ron. I need her." Ron looked away and Harry hated that it had to be this way. It wasn't fair, and he wished it were different; he would do anything for Ron, he would die for him, but he couldn't give her up.
"So do I," he whispered, looking out the frosted window. Harry didn't ask which part of his statement that pertained to - he was sure he knew.
"We hate to seem rude," Hermione said, bringing him back to the present. "It's just been a really long day and we're exhausted."
"It's alright," Ron said.
"We understand," Neville added.
"Ron, would you mind showing them their rooms?" she asked. He shook his head and she and Harry both thanked him, and he watched the two of them went up the stairs.
"Love can be a painful thing when it involves loss," Luna said softly.
"Yeah," Ron replied in much the same softness, and without really thinking.
"Before we turn in," Neville said, "maybe there are some things we should talk about?"
"The kitchen has pretty much become the meeting room," Ron replied, motioning for them to follow.
Neville listened intently as Ron explained the rules to him. They were to go nowhere alone, and should have an Order member with them for safety; if the need to go out arose, they were to disguise themselves as much as possible, speak to no one, and a member of the Order must be present. He explained some tactics they had been practicing and studying, safe places to go if by some chance they were found out and attacked.
"At least we know Harry has a fighting chance," Neville said.
"We're not going to let him die," Ron said. "He should be able to really live; he deserves that much. I'd rather die than…" he swallowed harshly.
"You're a fierce friend, Ronald," Luna said, reaching a hand across the table to cover his. For a moment her hand on his took him by surprise, unsure of how to react to her gesture. He just looked at her hand over his.
"Harry is my best friend," he replied, and realized he was thankful for her warm touch. "Nothing in the world could ever change that." We've always been there for each other; he's never let me down. I won't ever stop being his best friend - even if we're both in love with Hermione. I just want things to be ok.
"I just want one promise," Neville said, interrupting Ron's thoughts; his warm eyes were suddenly painfully serious.
"What is it?"
"I want to fight, Ron. I don't want to be a back up or sit on the sidelines; I want to fight," he said solemnly, and then his voice softened. "I deserve that…for my Mum a-and my Dad." Tears shone in Luna's eyes and Ron swallowed hard against the knot in his throat.
"We would never take that right from you, Neville," he said seriously. Neville nodded a wordless thanks, blinking back tears, and excused himself to bed.
"Ronald," Luna said, "would you like to get some fresh air with me?"
"Sure," he replied, figuring Lupin and Tonks weren't far. He knew they never left the property, and Moody and Shacklebolt were somewhere close by as well.
The nights were getting cooler as the last days of late summer drew to an end. They looked up at an inky, starless sky; it reminded them both of velvet. Ron leaned up against the garden wall and Luna sat down in the grass beside him.
"It must hurt," she said, "seeing them together." He didn't look at her, but she watched him swallow.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied quietly.
"Harry and Hermione."
"That's rubbish, Luna. I'm happy for them. We've all been through enough hell; if they've found a little bit of happiness then I'm happy for them." He looked at her briefly and then back out at the darkness.
"You're an awful liar, Ronald. I can see the hurt in your eyes," she said softly. She watched him swallow harshly again, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You're dead wrong," he snapped. "They are my best friends, Luna. I'm happy for them."
"But it hurts."
"So what if it does?" He looked at her again, his eyes a mixture of hurt and anger, possibly annoyance. He didn't like that she knew his private thoughts; even he didn't like to acknowledge them. "I can't change anything. I wouldn't change anything," he said. "I just… They really love each other. That's all that matters."
"But you still love her," she said softly. He closed his eyes for a moment. He'd always thought Luna was a bit mental, but after the Department of Mysteries he had realized no matter how quirky she could be, she was devastatingly loyal and she was true in her intentions as their friend. He breathed out slowly.
"Yeah," he whispered. He slowly slid down the wall to sit beside her. "But what difference does it make? I mean, she's my best friend, too, and we're too… different. It never would have worked, Luna." He didn't look at her as he spoke, looking down at the grass instead. He never was good at talking about this sort of thing.
"But it still hurts," she said softly. He looked over at her and nodded. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed for a moment, before dropping it back down to the grass.
"I suppose I'll learn to love her like I love Ginny," he said and looked at her. For the first time all night a soft smile touched her lips.
"Perhaps," she replied mystically. She looked at him and he smiled a little, too. "You're doing a really good thing, Ronald. It's a very selfless thing, putting their feelings before your own. War isn't the only thing that takes courage." He felt sort of a sense of pride; it felt good knowing that someone else admired him for this, and that he really was doing the right thing but letting this go, letting things take their course.
"Thanks, Luna," he said genuinely. She smiled and nodded, but he could see tears in her eyes. "What is it?"
"I miss Daddy," she whispered.
He wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well, I suppose we could have a member of the Order escort you home; you don't have to do this, Luna."
"Do you know why I'm here?" she asked softly, looking at him. He never realized how much he hated to see anyone cry, especially people he cared about.
"Well, I expect to help us fight," he replied. He didn't hide his concern for her - her happy face was rarely ever shattered by tears.
"That's part of it," she replied. "The other part is for protection."
"What about your dad? He should be protected, too." He watched as tears rolled down her cheeks, unsure of what he should do, or what was wrong.
"They killed Daddy, Ronald," she said softly. "It happened earlier this evening; you don't know because the Ministry wanted to keep it quiet. They didn't want any undue attention, didn't want to stir things up. They're so afraid he might see it and…" she shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Luna…" he was at a loss for words. He tried to think of how she felt, how it would feel if they killed his father, and it hurt too much to even think it. He found it hard to speak around the knot in his throat. "I…I'm sorry."
"Me too," she whispered. She wiped a few tears, quickly replaced by new ones. She looked at him. "I miss him so much…" her voice was barely above a whisper, and the hurt on her face made his stomach churn, and produced a dull ache in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but found no words would come out. He hadn't expected her to turn into him, to wrap her arms around him. With her head rested on his chest, her tears dripping onto the front of his jumper, he sat still for a few moments, unsure of what he should do. He'd held Hermione at Dumbledore's funeral, and found that this was much the same circumstance. She was his friend. She lost her father; she would comfort him if he lost his. His arms slowly came to rest around her, unsurely settling across her back.
"We'll get them," he said, his throat uncomfortably tight. He rubbed her back a little bit awkwardly. He wasn't used to being a comfort to anyone, but she had told him, not the other people there with them; for some reason she had confided in him. The ache in his chest sharpened a little. "I promise Luna, we'll get them for everyone they've ever hurt, and for your dad."
"I don't want revenge. I want Daddy back," she cried softly. He felt helpless. The tears burned his eyes and he fought them back. Not now. She needs someone right now. It was hard to see her so broken and in so much pain; he relaxed as he held her, the awkwardness disappearing. They couldn't bring her father back, no matter how much he wished he could in that moment; revenge was the best they could offer,
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