A/N: I have to give Laura Whitcomb, the author of A Certain Slant of Light credit for coining the term "The Light". The Light are ghosts which are essentially stuck in the real world, trying to survive by attaching themselves to a "Host" and essentially living with that person. They aren't visible to the living and only their strong emotions can be seen, This is how I hope to portray Ron and Ginny, with my own ghostie twist and thoughts.
Thanks to my very first Beta "Forever Optimistic"!
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The Darkness
The only sound penetrating the cool silence of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was the diligent scratching of a quill and the occasional sound of a sheet of parchment being flipped over, revealing a new unblemished side.
The sun splashed a soft yellow haze over the floor in front of Harry Potter's desk and a very lazy Crookshanks made the patch of sunlight his own, nearly stretching the length of it, oblivious to the sound of the quill. His purr echoed loudly off the stone walls of the classroom, but his mood was strikingly different than Harry's own at the moment.
It was the one year anniversary of the last uprising of a group of rogue Death Eaters; the group that had killed Ginny and Ron Weasley, Zacharias Smith and an elderly wizard who just couldn't move out of the way fast enough.
Harry hoped the writing of the following week's lesson would keep his mind occupied to help him forget the curious and uncomfortable looks of his students. He tried to ignore it, act like June 9th was any other day of the year, but everyone knew that one year ago today his best friend and girlfriend had been killed. The students and a few of the professors simply didn't know how to approach him. He made a comment to his first DADA class of the day, a group of sixth years, about the Death Eaters and the spells they used in their attempt to kill most of the witches and wizards in Hogsmeade. Harry actually heard someone gasp as if they couldn't BELIEVE Harry would say those words on today of all days.
Crookshanks' incessant purring ceased, jarring Harry from the jumble of words on his parchment and for a moment, he stared at the last sentence he had written. Even HE couldn't read his handwriting. Dropping the quill and flexing his fingers, he realized he had a death grip on that quill and the ink had soaked through to the next piece of parchment. All the stress, anger and sadness he held inside flowed out from his hands onto this one piece of paper.
"Bloody hell," he mumbled to himself casting a cleaning spell, wiping away the words that adorned his latest lesson plan. Pocketing his wand, he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling as if searching for something. Lacing his hands behind his head, he stretched his torso then relaxed somewhat, trying to summon up the energy to stand up to grab his bag and floo back to Grimmauld Place.
"Harry."
Harry's eyes shifted to the doorway but his posture remained unchanged as he tried to appear relaxed and unconcerned.
But this was Hermione; she'd know exactly what he was thinking and that he was faking this nonchalant posture. Sighing quietly, he pushed himself to his feet, causing Crookshanks to open a lazy eye at him and yawn widely.
"How were your classes today? Stressful and uncomfortable like mine?" Hermione walked slowly into his classroom, shutting the door behind her. Everything she needed answered was in the quick glance he gave her and the set of his mouth. He busied himself with collecting the parchment for his lesson plans and shoved them into a well worn bag that sat on the corner of his desk. For a moment he rested a hand on the soft brown leather bag. It held tough through two years of teaching and he thought it reflected his feelings at the moment: it had seen better days.
"Hullo, Hermione." Harry avoided answering the question since he knew they both had the same group of students and the atmosphere was the same in both classes. He knew each student was thinking, depending on whether they were in Transfiguration or DADA, `Harry lost his girlfriend Ginny Weasley a year ago,' or `Hermione lost her boyfriend Ron Weasley this time last year.'
Harry couldn't blame everyone for feeling a bit uncomfortable around them. After all, he wasn't sure if they wanted to hear him say aloud that he knew what June 9th meant or just ignore the fact that it was indeed June 9th.
"Harry? Are you okay?" Hermione's voice took on a more concerned note and her brown eyes ran over his tired form. She was now standing right in front of him, separated only by his desk.
"Sorry…I'm a bit distracted. How're you doing?" Harry made it a point to stop fiddling with his bag and looked at her, knowing she wasn't having an easy time either.
Hermione leaned over and placed her hand on top of which was now still on his bag. She conveyed her concern in that single touch and he appreciated that she was there; and that he wasn't alone.
"I'm hanging in there. Are you going to make it through the rest of the day? It's been a long one, believe me, I know how hard this is for you."
"Thanks, Hermione…and yes, I'll make it." He smiled for her benefit and patted her hand, giving it a brief squeeze before he slipped it away and grabbed his bag. Hiking it up on his shoulder, he looked over at Hermione, noticing the circles under her eyes. He knew she didn't sleep well last night either. While he laid in bed staring at the ceiling and thought he'd get up early and floo to Hogwarts, Hermione had still beaten him to school.
"Do you want to order takeout and hang out, or would you rather be alone tonight?" Hermione asked, carefully watching him bend down to scratch Crookshanks who began purring and kneading the stone floor.
"I don't think I want to be alone tonight, but there are a few things I need to do before dinner," Harry answered, giving the cat one last good scratch before standing up straight. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he met Hermione's eyes again and saw that she was handling this anniversary much better than he was.
"Why don't you come over around seven or so? I can get Thai and bring it back," Harry offered, taking a few steps towards her and in one swift move she leaned in and hugged him. Wordlessly, he rubbed her back as she kept a viselike grip around his waist.
"Okay, sounds good." He could feel her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're going to her grave, aren't you?" she asked, her voice muffled against his robes.
"Yeah, I couldn't get away at lunch to do it. You okay?" Harry asked, taking her arms and moving her back so he could see her face. It was clear of any tears but her eyes looked so much older. They had both lived through more than twenty year olds should have; Harry defeating Voldemort with the help of his two friends many times over before finally eliminating him from the magic world. Only to have their best friends and significant others killed roughly two years later.
Hermione gave him a shaky smile, patted his chest and took a step back.
"I'm fine." She took a deep breath and let it out. "You go visit, I actually got there around lunch time. I'll meet you at Grimmauld around seven then?"
"Sounds good," Harry agreed placing a quick kiss on her cheek. Squeezing his arm, she returned the gesture then retrieved a sleepy, warm Crookshanks and headed back to her classroom to finish up her plans for the following week.
After another quick glance around his room, he flooed to Grimmauld, intent on changing into non-teaching clothes and heading to Ottery St. Catchpole to visit Ginny and Ron's grave. He would later pay a quick visit to Molly and Arthur. He really wasn't in the mood to be around a large group of people. He dealt with three classes with over twenty students today and was looking forward to sitting with Hermione. He didn't have to hide his true feelings from her. After all, she was going through this right along with him.
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She had the perfect perspective of watching Harry. His face was turned toward Hermione as they ate Thai food, interspersed with conversation or stories about their seventh year or their first year out of school.
"It's been a year and you think he would've moved on a bit more than he has," Ron said lounging in mid air next to Ginny, watching Hermione twirl a noodle around her fork and pop it into her mouth.
"It's Harry. He lost everything he loved, including me. It's going to take some hard work on everyone's part, including his to get him past our deaths," Ginny said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I know. Hermione seems to be doing a bit better than him though," Ron observed now watching her place her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh with a mouth full of food. He wished he was paying attention to what made her laugh. He noticed she had been doing a bit more of it the past few weeks.
"She laughs a bit more than he does," Ron said aloud, leaning back against the wall a few inches under his sister.
"Well, Nick did say that everyone takes their own path to healing. He said his friends were almost back to their normal selves in six months." Ginny floated to the other side of the living room, not disturbing any physical items in her path. Even Crookshanks seemed oblivious to her movements.
"I bet Nick had strange friends," Ron muttered to himself. Sighing, he shook his head and followed his sister around the perimeter of the room.
"We need to let Harry know it's okay to move on and not hold onto us so tight." She trailed her fingers along the wall, over the rough brick of the fireplace where she paused. "He needs to know that we are with him, not matter what; in his heart he needs to know that," Ginny mused aloud, more to herself than to her brother.
"I know that Ginny; that's what we are here for…we could've just gone to the next world but no, you had to get all noble and stay here in this…middle ground…to help them."
Ginny cut him a look and Ron held up a hand. "Not that I'm complaining. I DO want to see my best mate and Hermione happy. I'm still not quite sure how we can help them achieve that though."
"Just stick with me. I know what we'll need to do when the time comes." Ginny was very vague and Ron sighed, after a year still trying to get used to the unemotional sister; and his unemotional self. It was so much harder being human. Here, you just dealt with things and moved on. Very rarely did an emotion come through the Light that would have an affect on the livings physical world. But when it did, it was never more than a slight breeze or a shifting shadow that was there one minute, and not the next.
"You know, Gin, we could try what we did at mum and dad's. That seemed to work." Ron's eyes followed the empty food containers as Harry magicially disposed of them.
Neither one had appetites, but Ron still remembered how food tasted and he remembered how much he enjoyed that part of his human existence.
"Somehow I don't think making one of the garden gnomes go flying while working in the garden will work on Harry. Mum always said you were the best garden de-gnomer and you managed to prove her point this morning," Ginny said evenly, watching Harry take off his glasses and rub his eyes. She had tuned out Harry and Hermione's conversation in order to communicate with her brother but at this moment, she wanted to hear what they were saying.
"…it was just hard, Hermione. I think because they were so young and stood by my side so much, and now they're gone," Harry said quietly setting his glasses down on the sofa next to him. Hermione pulled herself up off the floor and sat next to him, taking his hand.
"Harry, they, we, made the choice to stand by you. That's what friends do. We were so lucky to have known them, to have felt their unconditional love for us. Who else would've done that? Not Seamus, not Lavender…maybe Neville, but definitely anyone with the last name Weasley. It's not your fault Harry. We thought those Death Eaters were safely inside Azkaban…but they're gone now. ALL OF THEM; and we have the Weasleys, Zacharias-," Hermione said intensely, squeezing his hand trying to get him to believe that the deaths of their friends was not something he needed to carry around.
"You too, Hermione," Harry interrupted lacing his fingers through hers, but keeping his eyes downcast, taking in the blurry patterns of the carpet.
"Yes, Harry. We all did our part to kill those Death Eaters. I know you feel cheated and that everything you've ever loved has been taken from you. I can totally understand that, but Ginny and Ron went into that battle willingly. They weren't taken by surprise or forced to fight back to defend themselves like your parents. It took me a long time to accept that, about Ron and Ginny. But Harry," Hermione gripped his hand harder, getting his attention. "I'm still here. I'm not leaving."
"Thanks Hermione. I know all this." Harry stared at their intertwined hands in his lap. Reaching behind him, he grabbed his glasses and placed them back on his face so he could see her more clearly.
"Did Katie come try to cheer you up? I must've received three Owls from her today," Harry said, gently letting go of Hermione's hand so he could stretch behind him and reach for the bag of movies she had set there.
"She did stop by, asking how we both were. She also wanted us to come with her and Fred to the Burrow, but I begged off." Hermione sensed the subject closing and resigned herself to trying to enjoy the movie. She curled her feet under her, watching Harry go through the motions of starting the comedy she had hurriedly picked out from the video store.
"I sent her an owl back saying essentially the same thing. I feel guilty for not being with everyone, but after talking with McGonagall about it this morning and visiting Molly and Arthur this afternoon…I was all talked out." Harry flopped back on to his couch; arm stretched along the back of the sofa, and propped up his feet.
"I understand," Hermione sympathized. "I just wish sometimes…that I had just five extra minutes with Ron so that I could've said goodbye." Hermione's fingers played with the fringe on the pillow she had in her lap, one that Ginny had picked out and Harry used regularly whenever he fell asleep on the sofa.
"Exactly. But, unfortunately Avada Kedavra doesn't give us five extra seconds." Harry's gaze rested above the TV. Something in the corner had caught his eye. He wasn't sure if it was a movement, a shadow or just a fly buzzing around but as quick as it appeared, it was gone.
"No," Hermione resigned sighing heavily, leaning back against the sofa, feeling Harry's hand touch her shoulder. "No, it doesn't."
Not acknowledging what he saw aloud, he fixed his attention to the movie, shifting his position so Hermione could lean up against him. For the first time that day, Harry felt himself relaxing, distracted by one of the few Muggle objects in the room, his TV, and what was now his best friend, Hermione.
An hour into the movie with a blanket settled around their legs, they were both asleep, helping June 9th pass by a bit more quickly.
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"Do you think he saw you?" Ron asked as he followed Ginny down the hallway and through the wall to the street outside.
"No idea. He seemed to look right at me though. We've been following them around for a year, and this is the first time he even glanced in my direction."
"That's a start. I just wish we could do something more." Ron paused at the edge of a group of trees, shoved his hands into his pockets and stared up at the stars.
"Part of the rules Ron…we can't do much at all. Once they accept our deaths, Harry especially, they need to move forward, and then we can too."
"I know…I wish they'd just get on with it. They deserve to be happy…and I can't wait to see what lies beyond this middle ground we're stuck in."
"We'll get there Ron, don't worry. We just need to help them see the light at the end of this dark tunnel they're in." Ginny tucked her arm through Ron's as they entered the forest. "And once they see that, then we're free to seek what we want."
"I know. I remember everything Nearly Headless Nick told us…just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't remember anything, Ginny." Ron said. "I remember more than I did when I was alive…the strangest thing though, is not being able to feel much emotion. I look at Hermione and know I miss her, I can say it but I certainly don't feel it as strong as she feels it about me."
"I know…it helps us to remain focused though. To see what we can do to help them move on. We'll get there Ron. They've had the required year to mourn, think, get angry…all those emotions. Now, it's time to move on."
Ginny stopped and turned Ron towards her, wishing she could feel the solidness of his arms. Still, she grabbed him above the elbow and stared up into his pale blue eyes. The one thing she missed was the ability to feel what she COULD touch, which wasn't much, but she could still see him and a few of the other Light that moved around. But right now, they were in this alone.
"We'll do this. We'll help them be happy again."
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