Chapter 1 : Everything Has Changed
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 12|
Background: Font color:
Disclaimer: HP belongs to the brilliant J.K.Rowling of course.
A/N: As of Jan. 08 I am editing this story and changing a few things…so I apologize if this story is in your favorites and it pops up to the top of your list a few times in the process. To anyone who might just be beginning this story- it’s AU as I wrote it about a year before DH came out, but still enjoyable so I hope you still read it :)
No one knows, not even me, exactly why we had stopped talking, stopped seeing each other. Some said it was because there was too much tension after Harry's death, yes that dark haired boy had died- but what you think happened I am quite sure didn’t. Just like the mystery of Ron and I no longer talking, Harry's death was never completely determined. He had in fact successfully killed the dark lord leaving the wizarding world in unreserved happiness, and leaving him to be one of the loneliest people in the world.
In the long war of our 7th year and the year following our graduation from Hogwarts; Ginny Weasley, the petite strong girl that she was, was tortured to death. She was used as bait to lure Harry to fight Lord Voldemort in the final battle. Voldemort said he would let her go if Harry came and fought him, but when was that brutal wizard ever true to his word? When Harry came to fight him, Ginny was already dead. It was said that the image Harry was greeted with was the frail red headed Ginny laying on the floor with her hair tangled around her arms, motionless. Voldemort had tortured her to death, never wanting to let the chance to kill someone get away from him. I don’t know how everyone knew the story because Harry had not even told Ron or I after the battle. I suppose you could say one reason why Harry struck Voldemort down that day, at the young age of 18, was because of his anger toward the dark wizard...he had loved Ginny so much and had never had the chance to really tell her.
The Weasleys, Harry, and I were struck with grief beyond repair. It was crazy that such a fierce person like Ginny could have died at the young age of 17; she would have lived such a fulfilling life had she survived. The light in Harry’s eyes no longer shown, he was gone from the moment he saw the lifeless Ginny, the person he thought he’d grow old with. It was almost as if a dementor had sucked his soul out devoid of any of our knowledge. And when he died a year later, probably of grief, it really was the last straw, especially for Ron. It was said that Ron went a bit mad, not completely though. Crazy enough to haunt himself, but not crazy enough to warrant himself a bed in St. Mungo’s.
I remember him telling me, his hair all mused up from not showering for days, that he wished he had gone all the way crazy. That it would have been better than being stuck in between sane and crazy, that he wished he could be dead just like his sister and best friend. Oh I loved that boy so...and he knew it. I knew he loved me too, but who could show their feelings in such dismal times? No one I would expect...especially not us.
That had been the last time I spoke to him. He left the next day, he said something about needing to get away and didn’t even attend Harry's funeral. Well his need to get away has kept him for nearly 5 years. Just last year I found out that he lived in an upstairs apartment in London about ten miles from where I live, and had been living there since he had left his home at the Burrow. I guess when Ginny and Harry died; he forgot that he still had me.
I've spent many years just wondering what I had done to cause him to lose faith in me, to leave with out even so much as a good-bye. He just seemed to disregard our 9 years of friendship. I don’t think he really cared about how I felt, about how I had nearly drowned in my sorrows of my lost friends also. I saw my red headed friend, the only person I had ever truly loved, a few times around town...once in Gringotts, but all I ever received was a nervous smile. Maybe he didn’t remember me? But how could he not...I still had my bushy hair of course.
To my surprise and utter most embarrassment I still feel a flutter in my stomach every time I see him. For Merlin's sake I feel a flutter every time I see a flash of red, thinking it must be my Ron coming back to me. He had found himself, and he’s coming back to me after all. But I’m still waiting for that boy, maybe he knows I am.
A/N: All the other chapters will be at least twice as long, but this needed to be by itself to give the overall picture of things.
Other Similar Stories
by Bluebell ...
Fred or George?
by missing f...
The Silent D...