I wish I'd brought my Jacket

Disclaimer: Same as part 1.



A/N: I wasn’t intending of having Ron’s POV in here, but thanks to shadow_samurai she put the idea into my head and I couldn’t let it go. So this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta and friend, Sam. You make me smile, hun. Thank you. I have added a character death warning. It's for this chapter only, because Ron is dead. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review, and to Nicole, there's more to come hun, I promise.



Part 4: Right beside You, Ron’s POV



Alright, you may think this is kinda stupid because… well… I’m dead. Yeah, dead, as in caput, no longer here, joined the spiritual world, a ghost. Whatever you want to call it. But I am here, not in body, but in spirit. I spend all my time with my two best friends.



When I am with Harry, I tend to sit beside him sometimes when he’s reading, or studying. I’m not sure if he’s ever felt my presence, but he might have. I’ve caught him staring into space a few times and whispering my name before shaking his head and returning to his book.



I watch Hermione sleep, you know. And it’s not perverse, it’s just that I miss her and want to make sure she’s doing okay and is safe. Well, ‘safe’ is a relative term now, after what she’s done. I’m telling you, if I was alive, she'd be anything but safe.



I’m not sure what to think about what has happened. It’s frustrating, being dead ‘n’ all, because I just want to take hold of Hermione and yell at her for hurting Harry. I know I said I miss her, but what she’s done is unforgivable. Harry was my first and last best friend in the Wizarding World; Hermione, though I loved her, was just a pain in the arse most of the time. I didn’t really start to have feelings for her until fifth year, and I’m glad we got to spend that time together, but she’s changed; oh Merlin, how she’s changed. Not physically, she’s always had the perfect body, but psychologically. I think maybe the war affected her brain some. I mean, come on, sleeping with the ferret? I know why she did it, but I never, ever thought she would drug the furry bastard. Hermione is not the kinda girl I would want to be with if I were still alive. Okay, I sound like I’m contradicting myself, so I’ll try to explain. I loved Hermione, and right up until two weeks ago, I still cared about her lot. But she isn’t the same person I fell in love with - I don’t know this Hermione, and to be honest, I don’t even like her. This Hermione is a callous bitch who deserves whatever punishment she gets.



I died protecting my best friend, and I’ll continue to protect him and look over him even in death. It’s been so bleedin’ frustrating for me these past couple of weeks, being able to see what was going on and not being able to do a damn thing. I was even with Harry when he tried to kill himself. I saw that bloody huge monsoon of a wave swallow him whole and I closed my eyes, praying he would come up for air. He did, but he was in a panic. I wanted so much to reach out to him and hug him close to me. His arms were flailing around and he went under again. I heard him yelling, ‘Draco!’ before it all went quiet. At that moment, I hated myself, for dying, I mean. Harry needed me and I failed him.



I reached out to his mind and spoke to him silently. “Harry, fight, mate, come on. Draco is coming for you, Harry. Stay strong, please, for me. I miss you and I’m still with you every minute of every day. I’m right beside you now. Can you sense me, Harry? Can you feel my hand on your shoulder? Come on, let’s pretend we’re going on an adventure like we did back in school. You and me, fighting to stay alive. You can do it, I know you can. I… I love you, mate.”



As he lay there shivering on the sand, I sat down beside him. I wanted to keep him safe until Malfoy came. I knew he was coming. I was with Hermione when it all kicked off. I may not like Malfoy, but he is Harry’s lover and if he makes my friend happy, then so be it. At least waiting for him to arrive gave me time to think. Seems that’s all I’ve been doing these last few weeks.



You see, some of you may think Malfoy is to blame in all of this, some may think it’s Hermione’s fault. But ultimately, I’m the one to blame. It was me who made Hermione promise to try and get Harry and Ginny together. I thought Ginny would be Harry’s key to happiness. I didn’t know how wrong I was. Looking back on it now, I realize Harry is part of my family. Mum and Dad treat him like a son, and he sees Ginny as a little sister. I used to hate the idea of Harry fancying Gin, but I always thought they’d be good for each other.



Sometimes, back when we were in school, I would often sit and ponder over Harry’s preferences. I mean, girls were literally throwing themselves at him and he never batted an eyelid. When I asked him about it he said, ‘They only want to get close to me because of who I am. I would prefer to be with someone who wants the real me, Harry James Potter, not The Fuckin’ Boy Who Lived To Be Drooled Over.’ He’d made his point, I s’pose. But I still wondered if he swung the other way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no homophobe, but his choice of partner, in the end, was a bit of a surprise.



But it looks as though I was wrong about that, too. After spending so much time watching them together - and I don’t mean when they’re shagging, that’s just ewww! No, that’s private. But watching them curled up on the sofa, or studying, or cooking together, I can’t help but smile. Mal… sorry, old habits die hard, I mean, Draco, loves Harry. He loves him with a passion and there’s no mistaking that. You can tell that they are meant for each other, and now I regret ever saying anything to Hermione.



I never thought she’d go through with a plot like that. And let me get this clear right now, okay? I never asked her to drug, manipulate or sleep with Draco at all. I only asked her to make sure Harry and Ginny were together, so she turned dark on her own. I had nothing to do with it.



I don’t know what will happen when they return home. On the one hand, I hope she‘s safe, but at the same time, I want her to be punished for her stupidity. I guess I should be really furious right now. I can feel a slight anger inside me, but do dead people actually have any real emotions? I’m not sure; I know I can feel things, not solid things, but thoughts and sometimes the feelings of others. Is that normal I wonder? Strange, I’m asking you, and yet you won’t have any idea what I’m prattling on about. Never mind. I could feel Harry’s pain, though. Oh my God, I never, ever want to feel that again. The anguish and hurt was so overwhelming. I want nothing more than to be alive- just for a few minutes, you understand- to tell him I’m sorry.



Sorry for putting a stupid idea into ‘Mione’s head in the first place. Sorry for leaving him and letting him face all this pain on his own. Oh fuck. I can feel.



I feel like I want to cry and never stop. I’m looking at him, lying lifeless on the sand as silent tears fall down my face. They disappear, though, instead of landing on Harry. I wish Draco would hurry up. Maybe I should go and see where he is. That’s the good thing about being dead; I can float around on air, spying on people. Ha! Fred and George had better look out. I could cause mayhem in their shop without them knowing, if I really wanted to.



You know, it’s just occurred to me that Harry has no jacket on. He’s wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a thin T-shirt with a Muggle band’s name splayed across the front, and it’s the middle of winter! He may be alive just now, but he’s going to get hypothermia soon if Draco doesn’t hurry up. In the meantime, I just sit by my friend and hope he can feel my presence.



It feels like hours and Harry has been motionless for that time. His breathing is laboured and I’m sure he’s going to join me soon. I’m about to whisper to him when I see Draco running across the sand. I smile; Harry is safe now. My job here is done. But I won’t leave right away, I’ll observe silently for a bit, just to make sure everything‘s okay.



My next stop, though, will be wherever Hermione’s hiding. And instead of watching her sleep, I think I’ll haunt her dreams. It’s the least I can do. She hurt Harry, slept with Mal… aaargh, Draco, drugged the bugger, and then took off without so much as a sorry. A bit of scrap paper doesn’t justify what she did, does it? I hope Draco gets hold of her to give a taste of her own medicine, literally.



Everything that happens to her in the future will be all that she deserves. And I will just disappear, shake my head and smile. I never thought I’d say this, but I hate her now. I wish I’d never met the evil bitch. And the reason I’m saying this? Harry is in Draco’s arms, sobbing and clinging to him like a child clings to a teddy bear. It reminds me of Harry’s childhood, how lost and alone he must have felt.



I follow them back to the car and decide to settle on the roof, just to be close, you understand. I stay for a bit, and then the panting and groaning starts, so I know it’s time to leave. I turn away, going back to my special place, and I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, ‘How can he feel a weight on his shoulders when he’s dead?’ It’s a figure of speech. I always was an airhead, now I have a permanent one.



Bloody hell, ignore me, I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess it’s been a trying two weeks and I’m tired. We do sleep, you know. I used to wonder about that when I was at Hogwarts. The portraits always intrigued me. During the day, the people in the frames disappeared, where to was anyone’s guess, and then come back smiling. Bet the dead wizards were off visiting their dead lovers and… eww, stop now, Ron, that’s just sick. Anyway, you get my meaning. I’m off to sleep. I’ll check on Harry and Draco again later, but for now I’ll let them continue to find each other and seal their love for a second time. Hopefully, this time it’s forever.



Hermione Jane Granger? You can’t hide from me, you bitch. Ronald is watching.



TBC



Next part, Draco and Harry arrive home.