Loss

Searcy

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 06/06/2009
Last Updated: 06/06/2009
Status: completed

Ginny relives her greatest loss. Companion piece to "Moments" and "Choices".

Chapters

1. Loss

1. Loss

Loss

If you love something, set it free, if it returns to you it’s yours forever, if it doesn’t, then it was never yours. Whoever came up with that little gem of wisdom should have added in a bit about yours being a relative term as well as the fact that there are no time limits or guarantees on forever. I learned that particular truth the hard way, through personal experience, on the night of my brother Ron’s rehearsal dinner five years ago when his then fiancée announced to the room at large that she was in love with his best friend, my boyfriend, Harry Potter.

It had been a year since You-Know-Who had been defeated and everyone in he wizarding world was slowly but surely letting go of the past and rebuilding their lives. My family was no exception to that; though we had lost Fred and a great many dear friends we too were moving on with our lives. Percy had come back to us and we were all ecstatic over the birth of little Victoire. And now Ron and Hermione were getting married. It had come as a bit of a shock when Ron had popped the question, it had taken him the better part of three years to get around to properly expressing his feelings for Hermione so once they’d actually started dating we’d been expecting a long hard slog before it reached the point of matrimony. But if there was one thing that the war had taught us it was that life is too short to put off sharing with people how much they mean to you. And so my brother, the eternal late bloomer, had asked the girl he’d loved since fourth year to marry him and though she had been more than a little shocked by the spontaneity of the proposal she’d accepted all the same.

The whole family was thrilled with the news. We’d always thought of Hermione and Harry as Weasleys, just without the red hair and with no hand on Mum’s clock. Hermione marrying Ron was the perfect solution to officially adding that hand to the clock, literally and figuratively; once Fleur and Bill had gotten married a hand for her had been magically added to the clock. Everyone also reckoned that it was just a matter of time before Harry got his own hand on that clock. It was the general assumption of the family and all our close friends that once I completed Hogwarts a ring and a proposal would be forthcoming from Harry. I must admit that I too felt certain that sooner rather than later I’d be Ginerva Potter, but for the moment I was more than happy to wait my turn and let Ron and Hermione have the spotlight.

It was a lovely evening, the entire family had just come from the wedding rehearsal and everyone was in the mood to celebrate. We’d all gone over to the hall where the wedding reception would be held next day for the customary rehearsal dinner. All the members of the wedding party had been seated at a long table across the front of the hall facing the twenty or thirty smaller tables filling out the room. Naturally, Harry and I were seated at the head table, I was the maid of honor and Harry was the best man. Hermione was only having the one bridesmaid seeing as she didn’t have any sisters and I was the closest female friend she had. Still my role was mostly superficial, to keep the balance, as Mum put it. You see Harry was actually serving as the “Best Mate” on account of his being both Ron and Hermione’s best friend he was standing up for the both of them, Ron’s ring in his left pocket and Hermione’s in his right. Most people thought it a bit odd but it was what made Ron and Hermione happy so who were we to complain.

When the meal was done the dancing and the socializing began. Though Harry was never much for dancing he was coerced onto the floor four times, once with Mum, twice with me and once with the bride-to-be. After that he retreated from the dance floor and decided to mingle. I watched as he made his way around the room stopping here and there chatting with our old school mates Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood and several Ministry of Magic members who were no doubt asking how his auror’s training was progressing. I smiled and drifted back into the conversation I had been having with several of my female cousins who were badgering me for particulars about Harry. Like Harry I made my way around the room stopping here and there to chat with family and friends. I even managed to get in a few more circuits around the dance floor with my dad and my brothers. I was having the grandest time, and so was the groom.

Ron was having the time of his life. He and Hermione danced and made their way around the room mingling with their guests, thanking them for coming and accepting their many congratulations. As the evening wore on Ron was looking as if he could carry on all night though Hermione seemed a bit out of sorts. I imagined she was just worn out what with all the running around she’d been doing the past few months. Ron must have seen how tired she was because not long after they retired to the head table where I saw Ron settle into a conversation with Hermione’s father Edward in which I distinctly heard the words hoops, broomsticks and Chudley Canons. I turned back to my present conversation with Fleur and Percy’s new girlfriend Audrey Galland. We’d been talking for about ten minutes when I heard a sound that I hadn’t heard for nearly a year, a sound that quite literally brought tears to my eyes; it was the sound of George, laughing and joking.

Looking over across the room I saw George standing in the center of the room holding court much like he and Fred used to do. He was surrounded by about ten people including his mate from Hogwarts Lee Jordan, his girlfriend Angelina and Harry. Excusing myself from Fleur and Audrey I drifted over to where George and the others were standing. I walked over to Harry and leaned against his side, he instantly wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me closer, and I rested my open palms on his chest. I couldn’t help smiling at how good it felt being so close to him. Looking up at him I saw his face break into that gorgeous lopsided grin that I so loved to see grace his handsome face and had to fight back the desire to kiss him full on the mouth.

As Harry laughed at George’s increasingly ridiculous toast ideas for tomorrow’s reception I was plotting out ways to get Harry alone for a snog when I was pulled from my machinations by Hermione calling Ron’s name rather hysterically. She called his name three times each one louder and more urgent than the last; Ron… Ron… Ron! At the sound of Hermione’s panic-stricken voice everyone in the room ceased their conversations and turned towards the head table. Hearing the alarm in her voice Harry made a step towards the head table, towards Hermione. I pressed my already splayed palms deeper into his chest and looking up I opened my mouth to tell him to let Ron tend to Hermione. I saw that his eyes were focused intently on the front of the room, what he and everyone else was seeing I didn’t know, as I was about to turn around and look for myself to see what was wrong Hermione’s voice rang out again: I’m so sorry Ron, but I can’t marry you, I’m in love with Harry.

A gasp sounded throughout the hushed hall, my fingers curled of their own volition, gripping Harry’s shirt tightly in my hands. His gaze remained fixed on the head table, my gaze remained fixed on him watching his reaction to Hermione having just shouted to the world that she was in love with him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking; his facial expression gave nothing away. He’d learned long ago the merits of keeping his face expressionless. But as I was standing there with my hands on his chest I could feel his heart thundering madly beneath my fingertips and I see and feel the rapid increase in the rising and falling of his chest as his breathing accelerated. For the third time Hermione’s voice settled over my ears, this time it was no more than a whisper but somehow it seemed to echo more loudly than ever as she apologized, the next thing I heard was the brisk clicking and tapping of her high heels as she dashed out the door.

It was as if someone had removed a silencing charm from the room, suddenly everyone was speaking all at once. I could hear my Aunt Muriel’s voice in the distance roundly abusing Hermione, saying she’d always been leery of her motives, others in the room were dredging up the old speculations from our days at Hogwarts when Rita Skeeter had everyone believing Harry and Hermione were a couple and then there were the voices of Mum, Dad, Percy and Bill, they were calling Ron’s name attempting to comfort him. But I didn’t give a damn what anyone else was saying or doing in that moment my sole concern was Harry. He was still rooted to the same spot, staring resolutely at the place where Hermione had stood moments before declaring her love for him.

And then suddenly I felt his hands locking about my wrists pulling them from his chest, pushing me away from him as he strode quickly towards the door. I stood there for several seconds watching him walk away from me before I processed what was happening and called out to him. Like Hermione I had to call out to him three times each time louder than the time before; Harry… Harry… Harry! He turned around and I asked him Harry what are you doing, where are you going? He didn’t hesitate in his reply: Hermione needs me. With that said he turned back around and walked out of the door of the rehearsal hall and out of my life.

Staring at the mantel in the living room I see the latest addition to the family picture collection. There on the mantel is a portrait of Harry and Hermione their two year old son James, who looks exactly as I imagine Harry did as a child save for his scar-less forehead and the deep brown eyes he inherited from his mother, is sitting between them and held lovingly in her father’s arms is a beautiful little girl with dark reddish brown curls swathing her head. Though she generally has the facial features of her mother, the slightly crooked smile and the almond shaped green eyes with the high arcing brows she inherited from her father.

“Ginny dear?”

At the sound of my mother’s voice I take a second to compose a carefree expression on my face and to make sure my voice sounds as light as my expression implies. I turn to my mother and holding the picture where she can see it I say.

“So this is little Lily, is it?”

Mum smiles at my expression and crossing the room takes the picture from my hand.

“Yes, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”

I nod as Mum glances in my direction but answer just the same.

“Yes Mum she’s very pretty.”

Mum smiles and puts the picture back on the mantel. She pats my cheek and tells me she needs a hand in the kitchen. In the same falsely cheery voice I’ve been using since she walked in I tell her I’ll be there in just a minute. She ambles off humming one of her favorite Celestina Warbeck tunes.

I turn to stare back at the photograph of Harry and his family smiling and waving happily out of the frame and I am struck by the thought; five years ago the man I had loved enough to let go, the man I’d waited for faithfully, the man who came back to me, the man who I thought would love me forever, the man I thought was mine left me for his best friend the night before she was to marry another man. And if the picture on my mother’s mantle is to be believed he’s happier than I would have thought possible.

Yes, they say if you love something, set it free, if it returns to you it’s yours forever, if it doesn’t, then it was never yours, but what they don’t tell you is that yours is a relative term and there are no time limits or guarantees on forever.

A/N: I am in desperate need of feedback on his one as I am not at all sure about it, so please, please review.