Redemption

1

I honestly thought that I would be able to call July 19th, 2000, the day I married one of my best friends.

I thought that we'd get married, buy a house, have a few kids and grow old together.

The Weasley's had been planning this thing for months. It'd been more than a year since Ron proposed. Evidently, I said yes. I loved Ron, I still do. However, what happened between us that day was less than ideal.

Harry and Ginny had recovered quickly from the war, compared to some of us...

They had each other to lean on and they weren't afraid to discuss what happened, the horrors they'd witnessed.

Every single time I mentioned it to Ron, he'd turn all gloomy, tell me to never speak of the war again, mutter something about his brother's death and ignore me for several hours. After, he'd climb into bed with me, apologise for his behaviour and stay with me the night.

To be honest, it wasn't what I wanted.

It was always the same thing. I wanted adventure, to go back to Hogwarts and the good old days of rule-breaking and sneaking around with the boys.

We didn't have much of that these days.

I wanted life as it was before the Battle of Hogwarts.

I missed it.

I also missed the people that were in it before the Second Wizarding War unjustly claimed their lives.

I ached for the intelligent conversations I once had with Remus and the smiles I'd see on everyone's faces at Christmas. Watching Tonks make Ginny laugh and the Twins pulling practical jokes on everyone with their newest merchandise.

Those were the days.

Unfortunately, it would never be like that again.

We would never again have the innocence that was taken from us when we got involved in the war. Never again would we attend Hogwarts and escape the outside world. We were adults now.

Harry often reminded me of that. He'd been training to become an Auror with Ron. I was proud of them.

I hadn't done anything, yet.

I wanted to return to Hogwarts and maybe one day become a professor under McGonagall's guidance, but no one would allow me. They said I wasn't ready, and perhaps they were right.

I still had terrible, terrible nightmares of what happened that dreadful May 2nd.

The Weasley's used to run into my room to check on me when they were especially awful and I would wake the household with my loud sobs and heart-breaking cries. Or so they said.

Nowadays, Ron would wrap his arms around me and press my head to his chest. I would fall asleep again to the lull of his steady heartbeat.

Perhaps that was the reason I decided to marry him.

He obviously loved me.

I often sat by the window sill wrapped in a blanket, watching the days go by. Mrs Weasley feared I was depressed. I heard her whisper to her husband and daughter about the way I walked around, seeming lifeless. Of how little I ate. The way I screamed when the nightmares would wake me. OF how I sat around all day doing nothing.

I appreciated her concern, but most days, I wanted to be on my own and sort through my thoughts.

There was only one person I could think of who's company I'd actually enjoy, despite the animosity, there had been between us. He would have understood. I craved his presence with a passion. But, like so many of the others, he had been killed in the war. I watched him die in Harry's arms.