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My Old Friend by Roman
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My Old Friend

Roman

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Harry Potter books, nor do I own any songs, more specifically Tim McGraws 'My Old Friend.'

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My Old Friend

for Nick

My old friend, I recall

The times we had, hanging on my wall

I wouldn't trade them for gold

Cause they laugh and they cry me

Somehow sanctify me

Their woven in the stories I have told

And tell again

Harry Potter walked down the hallway of Grimmauld Place from the master bedroom towards the staircase, wearing his finest black robes. The house had been refurbished many years ago and where once was dark and scary, was now bright and homey. Painted with a thick coat of white, it was like a home and had served that exact purpose since the defeat of the Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, ten years ago.

The floors, halls, and room a family sworn to the darkness once inhabited was now home to a couple who had fought for the light most of their lives, where a demented house-elf once lurked, three small children ran and played.

Harry had very rarely been truly terrified of anything in his life, not even the Dark Lord himself really. But as he stood at the top of the stairs in his own home, he knees were literally shaking. He didn't want to walk down those steps. He wasn't afraid of any danger, the wards on Grimmauld Place were almost as good as Hogwarts, he was horrified of the memories he knew would flood him if he dared to look up.

The walls down the staircases were plastered with photographs. Some from a long time ago, before he was even born all the way up to just last week. The walls beside the steps were a time-line of Harry's life, of his wife's life, of his children's lives, pictures of friends and family whom the Potters cared for deeply. But what was the worst, was the sequence of events scattered about including him and his best mate, since the day they met.

He didn't want to see them, didn't want to remember their times together. He didn't want to laugh at the good memories, cry at the bad. He just wanted to forget it all, forget everything they'd been through, all that they'd done. He wished that he'd never met Ronald Weasley on the Hogwarts Express their first year, never befriended him.

Staring at his feet Harry walked down the stairs, almost knocking over one of the twins on his way, "Look out, James."

"Sorry, Daddy." The five year old replied in such a soft voice that Harry had to pat his head and smile. He then watch as the boy scurried off in the direction of wherever his siblings may be.

James ran towards the den, yanking the door open, scooting in and closing it in a flash. Unwillingly, as much as Harry tried to stop himself, his eyes drifted to the wall beside him. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing side-by-side dressed in their Gryffindor quidditch robes. Rons arm was wrapped around Harry's shoulder and both were smiling broadly.

The tears burned Harry's eyes before he could stop them. He blinked quickly a few times, looking down at his feet. His gaze turned up again, past the wall to the closed door of the den where his three children were playing, completely oblivious to their fathers pain, and their mothers too, not that she'd let it show. She was being the strong one again, as she'd always done.

Even when she was in labour she was the stronger one, telling Harry to calm down. They wanted their children to have names that had personal meaning, named after people who'd made a difference in their lives and they'd done just that.

He thought about his sons, the twins. Oldest by nine minutes, Sirius Neville Remus Potter. He'd look just like his father, except he had his mothers chocolate eyes. His first name for the man who was like a father, uncle and naughty older brother in one, then for a much younger man who'd made his grandmother a proud woman by giving his own life in the causes of light, and another whom, although alive and well, had lost so much to the war against evil and was now merely a shell of the man he once was, but was playing the part of Grandfather very well.

Then there was the boy who's hair he'd just scruffed, James Albus Ronald Potter, identical to his brother, all but his eyes which were a radiant green. Named after three of the greatest men Harry had ever known in one way or another. His own father who although Harry never really knew, so much lived on in him and his sons, the man who taught him everything he needed to know to be prepared for what was to come, and his best mate, his oldest friend, the man so loyal that anyone would be proud to call mate.

As the emotions started to bubble to the surface Harry quickly turned in the opposite direction to the den and almost ran to the door of his office, slamming it behind him. He placed his hands palm down on his desk, leaning heavily through his shoulders, head dropped, as tears slid silently down his face. An anguished cry ripped from his throat and in a moment of lost control he flung his arm across the desk, knocking everything away.


Papers and pieces of parchment flew upwards at the gust of wind his movement caused, pausing a moment in mid-air before slowly wavering to the floor. A bottle of ink spilled across the old wooden desk that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore, a gift from Hogwarts' current Headmistress Professor McGonagall. A few quills snapped under his force, the rest just falling to the ground.

With a flick of his hand Harry summoned a soft chair to him and dropped into it bonelessly. His self-control wasn't back in place, yet his emotions weren't raging. In the instant he'd fallen from his leaning position to his slumping one in the chair, he'd gone completely blank.

His emerald eyes stared through his glasses at the bookshelves that stood behind him when he was in his normal office chair. Though he wasn't reading the spines, wasn't thinking about the books at all. The tears still in his eyes, a few falling down his cheek every so often, made them shine. But there was a dullness in them, they looked out, unseeing, the only sight he saw was memories from when he was an eleven year old boy, through his Hogwarts years, the hunt for the horcruxes, later on in adult life.

My old friend, I apologize

For the years that have passed

Since the last time you and I

Dusted off those memories

But the running and the races

The people and the places

There's always somewhere else I had to be

Time gets thin, my old friend

During the year that Harry and his two best friends tracked, found and destroyed Voldemorts horcruxes, Harry had truly discovered what was really important to him. Ending the plague that was Tom Riddle may have been his destiny, but it was the friendships he had, the people he cared for, the young woman he was in love with that was The Power The Dark Lord Knew Not. Harry could and did love. That was what Voldemort lacked, he felt no love, he had no love and that would be what would win it for Harry at the end of the day.

After the effects from the love potion Ginny Weasley had been giving Harry towards the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts had worn off and it was completely out of his system, Harry had been able to see the truth now the haze was gone. He was in love with his best friend, Hermione Granger, he always had been.

She and Ron had tested the waters of a deeper relationship and found the temperature much too cold, both knew it would never work. And so after giving Ron some time for his bruised ego to heal, Harry had told his mate the truth.


Ron had grinned that boyish grin of his and said, "Bout bloody time you realized that, Harry. She figured it out ages ago."

And true love had blossomed, but never without the third leg of the tripod far from them. Ron had stood up next to Harry on the day they had taken their vows. When their eldest child, Lily Minerva, had been born, Ron had been as nervous as Harry yet was willing to take turns holding the hand of one suffering, angry, dangerous witch. The godfather of all their children.

Ron was Harry's oldest friend, his best mate. But although they'd always remained like brothers, they'd parted ways for too much time. After Voldemort was destroyed Ron had really put in the hard yards to make himself a decent keeper. And after dozens of try-outs, the Chudley Canons had picked him up as the replacement. A few years later, he was their star player.

Hermione had continued her education, receiving degrees in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions before taking a teaching position at Hogwarts, flooing home every night. And Harry had pursued the only career that really interested him, he became an Auror. Voldemort may have been gone, but his Death Eaters were still on the run and it was Harry's job to hunt them down and bring them in, dead or alive.

Rons job had kept him away a lot, traveling the world. And every time he had been able to pull by for a visit, either Harry or Hermione would be busy with something, so he'd only get the chance to see one of them at a time and not nearly enough as the years passed. They probably could of, should of, made the time, but Ron had always told them not to worry about it, he'd catch them next time.

Don't know why, don't know why

Don't know why, don't know why

It had been a next time when the Trio had all been together since Rons youngest was born. Ron was in town on a brief visit during the Summer holidays and Harry had a week off work. Harry booked them the best table at a muggle restaurant that he and Hermione enjoyed. The muggles didn't know who any of the three were so stares, points, whispers and autograph breaks weren't a problem.

The non-magic folk in the restaurant had no idea they were pretty much sharing a meal with a famous sports star, the Deputy Headmistress of the finest Witchcraft and Wizardy school in the world, and the man who had saved all their lives. Yet they were treated very well because those who ran the restaurant did now that Harry had more than enough money to go around.

Unfortunately, or maybe not, Luna, Rons wife, had been unable to join them as two of their five kids were down sick. They ate a delicious meal as they caught up. Ron told them of the Canons chances this year, they may just win it. Hermione told of happenings at Hogwarts, new professors and curriculum, students who reminded her of people in their own generation. She also filled Ron in on his god-children's status as he wouldn't have the chance to see them. Lily had already read all of Hermiones old Hogwarts books, memorized most of them, to which Ron and Harry simultaneously rolled their eyes. And as for James and Sirius, Hermione was certain that they'd be worse than their namesakes and Fred and George all in one.

And Harry filled them both in on what the Aurors had been up to at work. Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy had been found hiding out, they'd been on the run for years, from both the Ministry authorities and the Death Eaters. Peter Pettigrew had been killed while attempting to evade capture. Really the only big name DE's at large were Lucius Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle seniors and reports had them around the London area. An insider also informed Harry that the elder Malfoy was looking for his revenge, therefore the Potter family had been under the kind of guard that Harry was used to from his Hogwarts years.

They chatted and laughed about old times and caught up on the new throughout the meal. Then they finished talking over a bottle of wine. It was getting late and Hermione told Harry that they ought to be leaving as Molly had the kids.

The Gryffindor Trio stood and Harry went to pay the bill. Ron put a hand on his arm as he was withdrawing cash from his wallet.

"This ones on me, mate." The red head told him with a smile.

Harry shook his head, "This is an expensive restaurant, Ron, and I invited you here. I'm paying."

"Don't argue with me on this Harry. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a quidditch superstar. I've got the money. You payed for everything when we were at school, it's my turn."

Ron took muggle money out of the front pocket of his jeans and threw the bundle of notes on the table. Hermione saw that it was far too much, "Ron, you don't need to leave that much."

"I thought you always left a bit extra for the people who served you?"

"You do, but usually not that much." Harry grinned.

Ron shrugged, "Well it's our waiters lucky night."

He began to walk away and after sharing an amused glance, Harry and Hermione followed, Harry taking her hand. Outside in the cool London air they caught up with Ron. Harry was curious so asked, "Why were you carrying muggle money Ron?"

"I've taken to doing it all the time. Never know where you're going to end up and it comes in handy. I still can't count it though." He laughed. "So we're apparating out of here?"

"Yeah, we'll use the same alley we apparated into." Harry told him and they started walking towards it. "You going straight home?"

"Yeah. Spend some time with Luna while the kids are asleep. It's been a while since we've been able to just sit in front of the fire and talk. It'll be nice."

Entering the alley near the restaurant, they immediately knew something was wrong when they couldn't apparate out and drew their wands. "Anti-apparation ward." Harry muttered to them.

"That's right Potter. You don't think we'd allow you to simply run away." A cold, drawling voice came from behind them.

Whirling they were face to face with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, wands already pointed directly at the Trio. Without anymore bickering an Avada Kedavra shot from Malfoys wand and whizzed past about a foot from Harrys ear.

And with that he was in action. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione drop, roll, and stun Crabbe senior. Goyle fell a moment later as she shot sideways. All the while Harry and Malfoy dueled.

Harry dodged a cruciatus and retaliated with a reducto that Malfoy barely moved out of the way from. A few more unforgiveables Harrys way and Harry had him right where he wanted him, throwing a charm that Malfoy least expected.

"Diffindo!" And with a streak of coloured light, Malfoy no longer had a wand hand. He cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, holding the stump where his hand had been that was spurting out blood.

Harry quickly put binding charms around each of the former Death Eaters and only turned around when he heard Hermione call his name, her voice a strangled cry. He spun to her, horrified his wife had been injured in some way, but the sight that greeted him was far worse than her getting hurt.

Ron was on the ground, his eyes staring at the black sky, open and unseeing. Malfoys original killing curse had hit him when it flew past Harry. And a simple as that, Ronald Weasley was dead. The last casualty in a long finished war.

My old friend, this song's for you

Cause a few simple verses

Was the least that I could do

To tell the world that you were here

Hermione found Harry in his study, already dressed and sitting on the opposite side of his desk, staring at the bookshelves with blank eyes. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, her own pain so raw that she felt useless in helping her husband cope.

That night not so long ago that had brought everyone such heartache. Harry had contacted the Ministry in a numb shock and when his fellow Aurors had arrived he'd insisted on telling Luna himself, while Hermione went to the Burrow to tell Molly the horrible news and collect her children. As a mother she hadn't been able to comprehend the pain that Molly Weasley was in as much as she tried to imagine it.

Opening her eyes and snapping out of her own memories, Hermione slowly made her way to Harry. She knelt in front of him and reached up, touching his face softly. His eyes turned to her, so much pain inside of them. Tears slipped out of his emerald orbs as did her own. And she took him in her arms as they both wept for the best friend who would never laugh again.

Neither could tell how much time had passed when Harry pulled away from her and stood, moving around to the other side of his desk and straightening his robes. Hermione wiped her eyes and stood as well.

"We have to go, we'll be late." She commented.

His back was to her but still she knew what he was feeling. He nodded, cleared his eyes and walked back to her, taking her hand. Hermione rounded up the children, the boys too young to understand why Mum and Dad were so upset, too young to know that Uncle Ron would never drop by again and make them giggle. But Lily knew, she understood. And Harry felt momentarily better when she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him, tears in her little green eyes.

Harry sat in the living room while he waited for Hermione to return from her mothers, where she was dropping off the twins. Lily sat next to him, burying her face in his robes as he held a tight arm around her. At eight years old she was already as stubborn as her mother and had therefore refused to stay at Grandma and Grandpa Grangers. She wanted to say goodbye to the man who had always been able to make her smile and laugh, no matter how upset she may have been.

Hermione returned, somehow managing to look graceful as she tumbled from the fireplace. She gave them a sad smile as they stood and took one of Harrys hands and one of Lilys. They walked out of Grimmauld Place and Hermione did a side-along apparation with her daughter.

With a soft crack all three appeared in the back yard of the Burrow where alot of people were already assembled. Lily immediately ran off to sit with Kahli, Ron and Lunas daughter and Lilys best friend.

It wasn't surprising how many people were there at the funeral; all the Hogwarts professors whom were still alive and remembered Ron, the entire Chudley Canons team and staff along with a number of other quidditch players who knew him, had played with him and respected him. All the friends Ron and Luna had, the entire Weasley family made up the majority of people as it was a massive family.

Hermione went and talked to Luna softly while Harry walked up to the front of the group of people. He could remember tombs like this. The first he'd seen was at Dumbledores funeral. Neville had been put in one as had many others who were lost during the war.

Minerva McGonagall conducted the funeral. Many people stood to tell stories of Ron, most of them hilarious yet painful at the same time. It was when Fred and George stood and told tearfully of their brothers attempts to make mischief that Harry realized he shouldn't be afraid to remember his best friend. Everyone was laughing and crying at the same time.

And Harry knew that that was how it should be. Ronald Weasley was a loyal friend, a brave man, and a mate to all. He could make a group of people laugh even whilst they were attending his very funeral. And yet he would be missed by all. His humour, his courage, everything that was Ronald Weasley would be missed. The world was a lesser place because he was no longer here, but at the same time it was a better place because he had lived.

After everything was said and Ron was remembered, all the people in attendance moved to a different part of the large lawn for a feast prepared by the Hogwarts house elves. But Harry remained behind. He looked down at the stone that was now marking Rons life - Ronald Weasley. Son, brother, husband, father, friend to all.

He stood silent for a moment as once more his memories consumed him and a few more tears fell from his eyes. Then he started with a personal goodbye to his old friend.

"Well, mate, here we are. I always thought I'd kick the bucket before you." He smiled a sad smile, his voice was hoarse and emotional. "You remember what Dumbledore said, the ones that love us never really leave us ... you'll always be with me, Ron, right here." He said, pounding a fist against his heart. "You were my best friend, Ron, my mate, my comrade. You never hesitated when it came to standing by my side. But you were more than my old friend, mate, you were my brother. I'll never forget the good times we had. In fact, I'll try to remember them most of all. But I will miss you, Ron, more than I've ever missed anything. I'll miss laughing with you, fighting with you, everything."

He paused for a moment and then knelt down, "Oh and don't worry about Luna or the kids. I'll take care of them as best I can, Ron. I promise. And I'll make sure they know what kind of man their Dad was ... a good man, a great man."

Standing and wiping away his tears, Harry said, "Goodbye, brother. I'll see you in that next great adventure, have a butterbeer ready for me. I love you Ron, I always will."

Cause the love and the laughter

Will live long after

All of the sadness and the tears

We'll meet again, my old friend

Harry turned around and saw Hermione standing behind him, far enough away to give him some privacy with Ron. He walked to her, kissed her softly and took her hand, leading her towards the group of people assembled around the Burrow.

"You okay?" She asked quietly as they walked.

"No." He answered honestly. He'd given up even trying to lie to Hermione a long time ago, even when it was for her own good. "But I will be."

"He'll never really be gone, you know." She said as her eyes drifted to where Kahli and Lily were talking together, away from everyone else. Then she gazed over to the smallest of Rons heirs was sitting on his mothers lap. And then over to where the other three were in a group with their cousins.

Harry smiled softly, "No, he'll always be with us."

Goodbye, goodbye

Goodbye, goodbye

My old friend, my old friend

Goodbye, goodbye

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A/N: I've never written a songfic before, but this came to me a little while ago on the anniversary of my own best friends death. Leave a review, let me know what you thought. This isn't really a H/Hr fic, but they are a couple in it. It's more of a Ron and Harry friendship fic.