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SIYE Time:2:23 on 20th April 2024
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Losing Each Other
By MyGinevra

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Category: Post-HBP, Buried Gems
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 169
Summary: This story follows Harry and Ginny from their parting after Dumbledore's funeral. Much of it is told from Ginny's POV. The first chapter, "Ginny's Mermaid," was originally posted as a one-shot. I have revised it slightly as part of this longer story, but it is essentially the same as it was when I first posted it.
Hitcount: Story Total: 106082; Chapter Total: 7077







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The next morning Ginny awoke and saw that yesterday’s sunny day would not be repeated. It was completely overcast, and when she got out of bed and went to the window she saw that the dementors mist had returned. The gray world outside looked dismal and foreboding. When she turned from the window there was not even the hint of her shadow on the wall.

She heard voices downstairs and her heart jumped. One of them sounded like Harry’s. She sat back down on the bed for a moment, trying to calm herself. She took a few deep breaths, then started dressing. She put on one of her better pairs of jeans and the only blouse she had that was not patched, and she combed her hair a few more times than usual. When she opened the door she heard Ron; he was talking loudly, almost angrily. The response came from Harry. Ginny thought he sounded dispirited. She made as much noise as possible coming down the stairs, and when she appeared in the kitchen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked up at her.

Ron and Hermione were facing Ginny. Harry was sitting across from them, and as Ginny came into the room Harry turned back to the table, but in the brief moment that he looked at her, Ginny received a shock. His face was haggard, and he had almost a frightened expression. She stared at the back of his head, biting her lip, then sat down next to him without looking at him.

Ron had been slumped in his chair, but he straightened up. “Hey, Ginny,” he said brightly, “how are things? I heard you got some new boots yester– Ow!“

There was an unmistakable sound of a shin being kicked by a foot. Hermione glared at Ron. “What he means is that we all need to get to Diagon Alley soon for our school supplies.”

Harry abruptly stood up. “I need some sleep,” he muttered, and before anyone could speak he turned and was on his way up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, leaving the others staring up after him.

“What’s going on,” Ginny said anxiously. “Is he okay?”

Ron rubbed his shin and glanced at Hermione, who looked very tired.“We’ve been up two nights in a row,” he said. “Things haven’t been going well. Harry’s having trouble doing stuff.”

“What do you mean, stuff?” Ginny did not like the sound of that.

Ron glanced at Hermione again. “His spells don’t work all the time. The simple ones do, but if he tries something like a hex from that book of Snape’s he found last year, he’s lucky if it just doesn’t do anything.” He shook his head. Ginny stared in disbelief.

“He’s been hurt by his own magic,” Hermione said into the silence. “He says he’s just tired, but something else is happening.” She turned to Ron. “Why won’t you admit it?” she demanded. “It’s exactly what Dumbledore talked about, and you know it.”

“But he is tired,” Ron insisted. “I know I am. Look,” he said getting up, “maybe you’re right, but if we push him he’s liable to do something really stupid. I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe you two can think of something.” He paused at the foot of the stairs and turned to Ginny. “Sis, I’ve never said anything like this to you before, but he’s my best mate and he needs you. We all need you, but we don’t know how to make it happen.” He ignored Ginny’s astonishment. “You two talk, I’m going to bed.”

“Well?” Hermione gave a tired smile at the bemused expression on Ginny’s face.

“I’m speechless,” Ginny marveled. “Ron’s been such a prat for so long. What’s gotten into him?” She gave Hermione an appraising look. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re domesticating him.”

Hermione sat back and laughed. “Oh, Ginny,” she said when she stopped, “thank you for that. I haven’t laughed in weeks.” She turned sober suddenly and stood up. “Upstairs?”

Ginny led the way into her room, Hermione lugging her backpack which she tossed into a corner. The two of them sat cross-legged on the bed facing each other, and Ginny handed one of her new boots to Hermione. “These are beautiful!” Hermione exclaimed. “They must have cost a fortune.”

“Well, there was a very short moment when I thought it was too much.” They both laughed. “Fred said I shouldn’t worry about it. Actually, he said it was none of my business.”

Hermione examined the boot, turning it over, smelling and caressing the soft dragon—hide. “You deserve it,” she said. She handed it back and sighed. “I didn’t show him your owl. He wanted to know what it said, of course. I told him it was a message for me, but that everything was fine at the Burrow.” She passed her hand over her eyes. “I know he avoided you earlier this summer, but Ginny, he’s always asking indirect questions or making indirect comments about you.”

“Like what?”

Hermione waved her had vaguely. “Oh, like, ‘It’s my last year playing Quidditch, so thank goodness we have the best Chaser in the school.’ Or, ‘What will the Weasley’s do when their kids are all out of school?’”

“Oh,” Ginny said quietly. Feelings came up that she did not want to count on, so she put them into the back of her mind and made her thoughts go in a different direction. “What’s happening with his magic?” she asked.

Hermione frowned. “It’s like Ron said. If he tries a difficult spell it just doesn’t work. Nothing happens.” She hesitated. “We – we were looking for something,” she said, lowering her voice. “I can’t tell you what. Harry made us promise not to tell anyone.”

Ginny scowled and Hermione took her hand. “I know it’s not right,” she said, “but Professor Dumbledore made him promise to tell only me and Ron. I can’t tell anyone unless Harry says it’s okay.”

Ginny shrugged. “He never told me a lot of things last year, but everything else was great between us, so I didn’t want to push him. But I did feel left out.”

She leaned back against the headboard and looked at the window and the misty, overcast sky. “So what happened when you were looking for this ... whatever?”

“One day we were talking about the thing we were looking for,” Hermione went on, “and someone was nearby, someone Harry had a bad feeling about. So he tried the Muffliato jinx, but it didn’t work.” She grimaced. “Harry was right about his bad feeling though. Ron had to Stupefy the bloke so we could get away. But we don’t know what he overheard.”

Ginny had a sickening feeling. “That can’t be.” She shook her head. “Why is it happening?”

Hermione leaned forward. “Do you remember what happened to Tonks last year? She was losing her patronus and was having problems with her metamorphagus powers. She was depressed about Remus. He didn’t want her to love him. And there’s more. Harry told us something that Dumbledore told him about Voldemort.”

“If that’s a secret, too, then why are you telling me?” Ginny felt a little petulant.

“I think it’s okay because it doesn’t concern what we’re looking for. Besides, it also relates to Harry’s problem and you,” she added with a little smile. “If my theory is correct.”

“And your theory is...? Ginny prompted.

“Let me tell you about Voldemort first. What Dumbledore told Harry is that Voldemort’s mother –“

“He had a mum?” exclaimed Ginny, and laughed. “Of course he must have, but it’s impossible to imagine.”

“I agree with that,” Hermione said, “but I wonder if she was any better than he is. She used a love potion to seduce his father, and when she stopped giving it to him he left her. She was pregnant and became totally depressed, and she couldn’t do any magic.”

“She couldn’t do any magic,” Ginny repeated, and was silent for a moment. Then she nodded. “And that’s why Harry can’t.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, “that’s my theory. It seems that if a wizard or a witch has a big problem with someone they love, then it affects their magic.”

Ginny got off the bed and walked to the window. “But Harry’s problem isn’t that I don’t love him,” she said in a puzzled voice with her back to Hermione, “it’s that he won’t let me love him.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Hermione. “He thinks he’s sacrificing his feelings to protect you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop the feelings. So he’s actually the one who’s causing his own problem, not someone else. That makes it a little different from Tonks or Voldemort’s mother. But it also makes it easier to fix. He doesn’t have to get someone to love him who doesn’t want to.”

Ginny faced Hermione; there were tears in her eyes. “So the owl I sent yesterday was the worst thing I could possibly do,” she said in a quavering voice.

“But he didn’t see it! I did show it to Ron, which maybe was a mistake,” she admitted. “I had to kick him under the table to shut him up.”

Ginny grinned and sat back down on the bed. “And what about you and Ron?” she said coyly. “His behavior is very un—Ron—like. How did you turn him into a human being?”

“It wasn’t so hard,” Hermione laughed. “If I ignore him for five minutes he thinks he’s done something wrong, which usually he has.” They laughed.

After a moment Hermione continued more seriously. “But he is a rock for Harry. He’s really worried about him, Ginny, and so am I.”

They were silent, each thinking her own thoughts. Finally, Ginny got up. “I’m starving,” she said. “I haven’t had breakfast. I was thinking,” she added, “maybe we could play some Quidditch later, like we did last summer. He loves it so much, maybe it would cheer him up.”

“That’s a good idea!” Hermione said enthusiastically. “But I think tomorrow would be better. We’re all exhausted.”

Ginny brightened. “Good,” she said, “at least you’ll be around for another day. It’s been way too quiet here, at least for me.”

She left Hermione, who wanted to sleep, and went downstairs where her mother was busy with breakfast. Ginny ate, then spent the rest of the day by herself. Hermione, Ron, and Harry slept until late afternoon, when Mrs. Weasley insisted that they all have dinner together.

Harry seemed to be in a better mood during the meal, and he also looked much less haggard. When Ginny suggested a game of two—man Quidditch in the morning, he showed some interest for the first time since the trio’s return. Later in the evening he joined the conversation about Gryffindor’s team for the upcoming year, and what the competition would be like, especially if some key players for other Houses did not return to school.

“We know Malfoy won’t be back,” said Ron, “so we can count out Slytherin.”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry, “but I never lost to them in six years, anyway. Who do you think the new Ravenclaw seeker will be? Cho’s gone.” Ginny glanced at Harry as he spoke Cho Chang’s name, but there was obviously nothing there except his weighing the impact of Cho’s absence on her old Quidditch team.

“Dunno,” answered Ron, pondering the question. “Maybe that fourth—year who played Chaser against us. He had some kind of French—sounding name, what was it?”

The conversation continued for another half hour. Ginny finally lost track of it in her drowsiness, and announced that she was going to bed. “You’ll sleep in my room, won’t you?” she asked Hermione.

“Of course. I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Good night, Ginny,” Harry said.

“Oh, good night, Harry.” Ginny was a startled. She smiled at him and he gave a small wave and a quick smile back.

When Ginny got to her room her heart was beating a little faster than it usually did after she had climbed the narrow flight of stairs. She went to bed and quickly fell asleep, feeling better than she had all summer.

The next morning, although the day promised to be another gray one, Ginny bounced out of bed, dressed, and hurried downstairs. She was the last one to the breakfast table. Her father had not left for the Ministry yet, and he was speaking with Harry in a low voice when Ginny sat down. They stopped talking and both looked at her. Harry gave her another quick smile and a nod, and then started in on the pile of sausages in front of him. Hermione and Ron were also busy eating. Soon Mr. Weasley got up.

“Time to be off,” he said, kissing Molly on the cheek. “Have a good game, everyone, and be careful.” He waved goodbye and stepped outside. In a moment he Disapparated and was gone.

Harry was still in a good mood, although he did not talk to Ginny. He had brought his Firebolt downstairs, and immediately after breakfast the others got their brooms from the old broom shed and they were all off to the clearing down the lane where the Weasleys had always played Quidditch. As they walked through the mist, Hermione took Ron’s arm and moved ahead of Ginny and Harry. Ginny slowed her pace slightly, and soon she and Harry were several yards behind and out of earshot.

“So,” she said as casually as she could, “how are things?”

“Pretty good,” said Harry, “except for the weather. I can’t stand this damp stuff.”

“No, it’s not very pleasant.”

“It’s been like this all year.” Harry glanced at the sky. “I guess it’ll be pretty cold again this winter.”

“At least I won’t have any problem keeping my feet warm now.” Ginny took the opportunity to change the topic from the weather.

“Yeah!” Harry said over—enthusiastically. “I heard about your new boots. That was really nice, Fred and George buying them for you. I’d like to see them.”

“Oh, sure,” Ginny said. “I’ll show them to you when we get back. I got them at Twilfit’s. How do you like my hair clip?” She decided to see what might happen if she pushed the conversation a little. “It’s a lion, and I got it from a street vendor.”

“It looks good,” Harry said as she turned her head. “Maybe it’ll reflect the sun like the Snitch and confuse the opposition.” He laughed.

“I also got two more Pygmy Puffs at the Wheezes,” Ginny said, encouraged by his reaction.

Harry laughed again. “You always liked those things, didn’t you? They’re kind of cute.”

They walked on. Ginny’s mind was in a turmoil. Did that remark mean anything? Was it just small talk, or did he blurt it out without thinking? Did it convey anything at all about his feelings? Then Harry spoke again.

“So you were in Diagon Alley. Did you go anywhere else?”

“No,” Ginny answered distractedly, still pondering the implications of “cute.” “We just sat around talking for a while.” She flushed, and snapped her mouth shut, wishing she could have those words back.

“Oh, you mean with Fred and George?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“No, I met Dean there.” Ginny again tried to sound casual, but she was even less sure this time that she had pulled it off. “We just talked for a while, then he went home.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and started to walk faster. Ginny caught up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He did not stop or turn to look at her. “Harry,” she said to his back as they entered the clearing, where Ron and Hermione were already in the air. “He’s just a friend, a – a teammate.”

Harry stopped and faced her. “Sure, I know,” he said, but there was a hurt in his eyes that Ginny had never seen before. “It’s okay, Ginny, it really is. We’re not going together anymore. You can do whatever you want.” He mounted his broom, and still looking at her he kicked off hard and soared into the air.

Ginny stood there, feeling a combination of dismay and anger. “What’s wrong with you?” she thought, watching Harry streak above the treetops, and then she shouted, “Why are boys so stupid!”

Hermione landed next to her. “What happened?” She looked up at Harry who was now flying erratically around the clearing, narrowly missing branches and ignoring Ron’s calls. “What is he trying to do, kill himself?” she exclaimed.

Ginny was also watching Harry, and she swore through gritted teeth. “I said something stupid. I mentioned Dean. Harry basically told me to get lost, and then he took off.” She indicated the gray sky with a nod.

Suddenly she cried out, “Oh, God, what’s wrong? Harry! Look out!”

Hermione followed her gaze, and gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Harry was careening from side to side and up and down; he seemed to have no control of his Firebolt. Ron was near him, trying to stay out of his way and slow him down at the same time. Harry went into a steep dive, and the girls could see his face clearly. It was frozen in terror, even as he tried to get control of his broomstick. Ron streaked after him, shouting, “Pull up! Pull up!”

Ginny and Hermione reacted at the same time. They pulled their wands out, but by then Harry was only a few yards from the ground. At the last instant he lifted the front of his broomstick, but he hit the ground hard and went face—first into the grass. They rushed over as Ron landed next to him.

Harry got to his hands and knees. His face was scratched and his glasses were smashed; his jeans were ripped at both knees, which were oozing blood, as were his elbows. His breath had been knocked out, and he was gasping and heaving. Ron put his arm around him. “Harry, are you okay?” he asked fearfully.

Harry coughed, spat out a tooth, and nodded. “I — I think,” he coughed again. “Just – breath knocked out.” Hermione lifted his glasses off and touched them with her wand, silently repairing them. Harry started to stand, and Ron helped him steady himself. Harry looked around, dazed. “What happened?” he said. “Where’s my broom?”

Ginny had picked up the Firebolt. She handed it to him apprehensively. “Is it okay?” he asked. He put his glasses on and looked at it. “Sirius gave it to me,” he mumbled. He swayed and Ron grabbed his arm.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Ginny answered. She was having trouble keeping her voice steady; she had never heard Harry talk like this. “Maybe the handle’s a little scratched, but...” She looked at Ron and Hermione, and they all felt the question hanging in the air.

“It’s fine,” Harry said angrily. “It’s not the broom. I – I don’t know what it was, but it’s not the broom!”

In the silence that surrounded them, Ron put his arm around Harry’s waist. “Come on, mate,” he said, “let’s go back and let my Mum take a look at you. She’ll be able to fix you up.” He glanced at Ginny and Hermione; he looked almost as terrified as Harry had.

Hermione started to follow, but Ginny caught her elbow and held her back until Ron and Harry had gone ahead. “Is that what I think it was?” she asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded glumly. “It looks like it. He couldn’t make his broomstick do what he wanted, just like he can’t make his spells do what he wants.”

Ginny bowed her head for a moment, then looked up and laughed mirthlessly. “It’s stupid, but the only thing I can think of right now is how is he going to play Quidditch?”

Hermione looked at her helplessly. She took Ginny’s arm, and they followed Ron and Harry back to the Burrow.
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