Disclaimer: J. K. R. owns the characters and I wish I owned her. Preferably in my attic, so she would keep writing Harry Potter for me. =]

Where You Belong

You feel awkward.

You’ve come to visit, hoping things will be the same, but they’re not. They’re different, so very different. You wonder if you’ve ever been so nervous around him, or cared so much about what you looked like. You ask yourself a million times why things have changed so much, when it occurs to you that you should have realized they would change months ago. You have prepared yourself for so much this summer, but not for this.

You feel ashamed.

You have just had another outburst of emotion while you were talking about your parents, and can’t believe it. You’ll need to learn to control your emotions better before something else happens. It then occurs to you that Ron is wrapped around you. You register that he has been much more compassionate recently, and you momentarily think that it might be for you. This thought is swept away as quickly as it came, because it is completely unreasonable and impossible.

You feel surprised.

He’s just asked you to dance, and he didn’t get angry at Viktor. (Well, not that angry, anyway.) The feeling of hope that you get when you wonder if he’s possibly changing for you returns, and this time, you let it stay within you, filling you up as the two of you dance. You realize that a lot of people have knowing smiles on their faces as they glance at you, and tell him you’re tired, more out of the fact that you know your face must be as red as his hair than out of the fact that you are drained.

You feel terrified.

Chaos is everywhere, and you need to leave, but you can’t find him anywhere. You know, and for once, you don’t care, that you are openly expressing your emotions by sobbing when you’re looking for him. Why did you ask him for butterbeer? If you don’t find him, it will be entirely your fault, and you scream his name repeatedly, knowing that if you leave without him, you’ll never survive. Relief sweeps through your body as his hand finds yours, and your mind clears completely simply because you can feel his fingers on yours. You do what must be done.

You feel comforted.

He has been, if possible, even more sympathetic for you tonight. He’s put himself right near you, as if he knows that’s exactly where you need him to be right now. He has done everything he possibly can to make you more comfortable, other than hold you close to him until- he grabs your hand, and you smile. He’s now done everything he could to make you relax, and you momentarily wonder how he knew to do everything that he has so far. Your mind clears of the fright that had taken over earlier, and you fall asleep almost instantly.

You feel frightened.

The plan you’d come up with was ingenious, and foolproof, but now, he’s about to be taken away from you, and you feel lost again. You don’t know what to do, and you try to give him instructions, when all you can think about is how you can go about staying with him while staying on task with Harry at the same time. You can’t think of a way, and so you must let him go, and you see the fear in his eyes despite the fact that they aren’t really his, and you know that the fear must be mirrored in your own. You pray silently that he’ll be okay, when even deeper inside of yourself; you wonder how you will be.

You feel drained.

And yet, you need to act quickly, because you can’t lose him, you just can’t. If you do, you don’t know what will happen, and that, you realize, is what scares you the most: the fact that you don’t know what you’ll do if he’s gone. You try to close the wound in his arm despite your shaking hands, and when it heals, you feel more relieved than you’ve ever felt in your whole life.

You feel adoration.

You’re both safe now, hardly thanks to you, and yet he’s still concerned for others more than himself. He’s muttering about those Cattermoles, and you find yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, his concern for them has something to do with the fact that you are muggle-born as well. You’re about to let yourself believe that there’s a possibility that he likes you, when Harry’s voice breaks into your thoughts, and embarrassment takes over.

You feel alone.

You were all supposed to stay together. He can’t be gone, he just can’t. His voice keeps playing over and over through your head. “You choose him.” Oh, how you wish he had stayed for five more seconds, just so you could explain how very wrong that assumption was.

You feel embarrassed.

Harry’s caught on. He hears you crying at night, and he most likely knows exactly why. You can hardly look him in the eyes anymore without thinking of R- him. You can’t help but blame Harry, either, because he was the one who encouraged him to leave. You busy yourself with the horcruxes, but every few minutes you find yourself gazing at the tent flaps, hoping to see those blue eyes that you have lost yourself in so many times peering back at you. You need to focus, but now that he’s gone you’re just so hollow.

You feel empty.

You’re standing in the middle of the snow with Harry, and you can tell how emotional he’s getting because of his parents. For a few moments, thoughts of Ron leave your mind, and you find the ability to focus for the first time in days. You leave flowers and play the part of being Harry’s wife. You put your arms around each other, and as you begin to walk out of the graveyard, Ron leaps back into your brain, and you imagine it’s him holding you and you’re very glad Harry’s crying too, because if he weren’t distracted, you’d hate yourself for breaking down at such a trying time.

You feel ecstatic.

He’s back. He’s safe. He’s looking at you. Those deep blue eyes you’ve pictured so often for the last few weeks are full of hope, and you stare back at them. You wonder how you can greet him, how you can show him how much you missed him, when it hits you: How dare he make you miss him! How dare he expect you to hug him! Raising his arms like a weak little-

You feel furious.

He’s back. He’s safe. He’s looking at you. You suddenly remember all those things he did to you. He made you cry, he made you lose focus, and he made you feel afraid. You are angrier than you have ever been at anyone, even though deep down, you know that the only reason you’re mad is because he’s the only person in the world that has the ability to make you completely vulnerable, and that terrifies you.

You feel tough.

Ron’s been trying for ages to get back on your good side, and of course merely days after you’ve let him, the three of you have been captured. Harry had said You-Know-Who’s name, and all you worried about for a split second was Harry. You cast a stinging hex, turned around, and Ron grabbed your arm, causing you to feel safe for a moment. Then, they appeared, and they punched Ron, forcing you out of his grip. You defend him, he defends you, and then they call him your boyfriend, and when he doesn’t deny it, you feel as though you could take on the world.

You feel pain.

That feeling of immunity and strength didn’t last long, and you’ve been dragged upstairs by your hair. Bellatrix is hurting you, but you must lie about the sword, you must, and they have to believe you, because if they don’t, they’ll kill you and then they’ll kill Ron, and for once, you’re not afraid that you’ll die, but you’re scared he will. You can hear someone yelling for you, and the only way you are keeping your sanity is by hoping beyond hope that it’s Ron yelling for you with such concern.

You feel strong.

You wake up, and feel pain everywhere, but someone is carrying you, and just from the smell of him, you know exactly who it is. You look at his face, and you can’t remember him ever being so scared in his entire life. You want to tell him you’re fine, because you don’t want to frighten him like this again, but all you can do is moan. It has the desired effect, however, and he glances at you, with relief etched all over his face. He grins at you, tells you it’s okay because he’s got you, and you desperately want to tell him that you already knew, that you’re just glad you get to look at him again, but he shushes you, lays you on a couch, and Fleur and Bill start fussing over you with potions and spells. You would protest, but he’s standing there watching you, and for once, your content to let anyone do anything to you, just as long as you never have to pry your eyes away from his again.

You feel evil.

You’ve consented to turn into Bellatrix with much disgust. You hate the feel of it, and you comment that even her wand makes you feel immoral. You’re walking down the road, and people are looking at you with such hatred, and you despise it, even though you know that you’d have the same look upon your face if you saw who you were. Someone is walking up to you, and he looks ready to pounce when-

You feel reassured.

The man tried to hurt you, and you fought to suppress a grin at the look on Ron’s face when he realized it was he who had cursed him. You nodded your appreciation at Ron, and sadness flowed through you when he responded with a lot less enthusiasm in his eyes than usual. You know it’s not his fault, he can’t help it, and it’s just for the rest of this hour that he’ll hate your appearance. You detest this disguise.

You feel nervous.

Yet again, you fear for his life, and now, your own as well. Everything is happening so fast all of a sudden, and you’ve broken into Gringotts, stolen a cup, gotten badly burned, nearly died, been betrayed, ridden a dragon, and jumped into a lake, and it all seems as if it occurred in under twenty minutes, when in reality, it took nearly six hours. Now, when you’ve finally thought you could relax, Harry has that look again, and his urgent voice makes you wonder if you’re going to sleep at all in the future.

You feel rushed.

You all need to do so much, and it seems impossible. You still have to destroy the cup somehow, find another horcrux, and kill the snake because you’re pretty certain that tonight is the night Voldemort must be finished. Your mind is so jammed with thoughts, and it’s nearly impossible to think straight. Harry leaves, and luckily Ron can keep his head aligned, because he turns around and suggests that you two do something to help Harry instead of just waiting there.

You feel scared.

Ron came up with amazing ideas, and now you have one less thing to worry about. Suddenly, however, you hear sounds of a battle beginning, and the two of you can’t find Harry anywhere. For the first time in a while, you’re not worried about Ron, and you’re terrified for Harry. Ron keeps making suggestions as to where you should look next, when you run into him. He’s pleased when you tell him what you’ve done, and you can’t stop yourself from voicing your thoughts about Ron several times over. You turn slightly pink when you call him “amazing” for the second time, and Harry raises his eyebrows at you. But now, the three of you need to get back on track- it’s time to fight.

You feel confused.

Did Ron just express concern over something that he’s spent the last three years arguing with you about? You look at him in shock, and suddenly it hits you. The three of you are going into battle, and you may die. You feel a surge of emotion in your chest, and suddenly-

You feel bliss.

He’s kissing back. He’s kissing back. He’s kissing back. Who cares about anything else, because at this moment, it finally occurs to you that he did feel the same way all along, and he’s kissing back. You wonder what on earth Harry is yelling about, and you’re vaguely aware that Ron has stopped kissing you and that he is responding. You realize what just happened, and you remember what’s going on around you, and you feel your face turning red. Why can’t you control your emotions anymore?!

You feel shocked.

Voldemort’s just announced that Harry is dead, but it can’t be, it just can’t be, because then everything you’ve worked for is pointless, and… you need Ron. Where is Ron? Thankfully, as if summoned by your thoughts, he arrives at your side, his face white as a ghost, and looks at you with the same concern that you imagine your face is currently holding. He grabs your hand, and you grab Ginny, and the three of you walk towards the entrance. You need to see this for yourself.

You feel pointless.

You cry out when you see that he’s dead, and you hear Ron and Ginny do the same. At once, Ron grabs you and Ginny and hugs you both close to him, and the three of you begin to cry.

You feel numb.

The battle is raging again, even though it seems as if there is no reason to continue. At this point, all you care about is getting out. You don’t care if you have to die to do so, you just want out.

You feel anxious.

Harry’s alive, but the momentary happiness that this news brought is wiped away, because he’s facing Voldemort all by himself. Ron comes up next to you and grabs your hand, and the two of you watch with terror etched upon your faces. Harry is showing amazing skill and bravery, and then- it’s over. Voldemort is gone, and Harry is fine.

You feel overwhelmed.

All the deaths and injuries rush at you, and you feel a rush of emotions, but above everything, you feel whole. You glance down, and notice that through the cheering, the crying, and everything else, he’s still holding your hand, and he’s just looking at you. You look back, and smile, and more than anything in the world, you know that despite all the loss, despite the thousands of things you should be feeling right now, you only feel like you are finally where you belong. You are with him.

You feel complete.

A/N: Thanks a million to my beta: Taryn. I hope you enjoyed, and please review, I love reading them. =]