The Bare Bones of the Matter

A/N: CT was written before DH came out. In this installment, Amelia Bones didn't die. Please remember, as you read this, that sometimes endings have to happen before beginnings. And, as usual, I don’t own this. Thanks to Slytherinlaurel for making my stories so much better.

It seemed to Ron Weasley that everyone was going a bit mad. Harry was snogging the lights out of Malfoy; even if Ron had realized what was going on quite a while ago and come to terms with the fact, that didn’t mean he understood his best friend lusting over the White Ferret. Hermione was sitting at the far end of the terminal without a book in her hand. That in itself was something stranger than he wanted to imagine. And he was wondering what he should tell Susan.

Everyone about him was making plans to keep in touch, to not forget that they had become friends. But he and Susan didn’t seem to be in any rush for that kind of declaration. There she was, as pretty as she had ever been to him, but he just wasn’t stirred.

And to make matters worse, she looked like she was walking towards him.

“Hello, Ron…” Her voice was soft, quiet, and somewhat hesitant. Her eyes were not quite looking into his, and her smile didn’t quite reach her cheeks. “I saw your family arrive. I’m glad…” She didn’t seem to want to go any further.

He knew what she was going to say. She was glad that they were able to come. He was, too, and wished he could say the same to her. But he wouldn’t, and she knew it.

“Where are you going? Did anyone come for you?” He hadn’t seen any of her family and was a little glad he hadn’t.

“Aunt Amelia is going to send a car. She just can’t get away from the office right now.” Susan looked around to all the families that were celebrating around her. It didn’t seem right that she should have none of what was being so freely given and received by others in her class. Her family hadn’t been decimated by the war; no one had died. But they were mostly dead to her nonetheless.

He knew what was going on in Susan’s head. He had seen it often enough after she had decided to stay at Hogwarts last term. So many students had received the same letter. Some had acquiesced. Most had not. Susan had been one that had stayed at Hogwarts. She knew, because of her relationship with Ron, what was going to happen. She also knew that the end would come much sooner than any of them would want. And being the Hufflepuff she was, she stayed where her loyalty and diligence was needed. She kept the backstage area always ready. Somehow she managed to keep abreast of Madam Pomfrey, the house-elves, and those preparing for war.

But he also knew that she kept so busy because it was easier than remembering the letter that her parents had sent her, and the hurt it had caused.

She had slowly pulled away from everyone during those last few months until even he didn’t know her anymore. It was something that he didn’t like to acknowledge, but it was true. The girl looking carefully at some spot on his shoulder wasn’t his Susan anymore. He shifted on his feet, not really knowing what to say to her. Somehow the carefully practiced words now either sounded wrong or terribly unfair. Over the Quidditch level voices, Ron could just hear Hermione’s voice in his head. Oh, Ronald!

Despite the crowds, he was surprised to suddenly feel the elbow in his back. He stumbled forward, and Susan caught his shoulder to prevent his falling. He straightened up quickly. Her hands fell to her sides just as quickly as she let him go.

“I suppose you’ll be working at the Ministry with your aunt, then?” He tried to sound cheerful, hoping he did.

She seemed inclined to play this game, if he was. “That's the idea. I don’t know what I’ll do, really--but she always has room for an extra set of hands. There is so much work, just now, you know.” Everyone did. Those left to the task of putting together a functioning Ministry from the rubble rarely left the building or their work; there were parents meeting the Hogwarts train who hadn’t seen real sun for weeks, Ron’s dad among them. St. Mungo’s assigned Mediwizards and witches to watch over the staff there so no one worked themselves to wretchedness.

“Charlie is trying to get Mum to let me go to Romania with him for awhile. I don’t know if I will or not, even if she says yes.” He looked back over at Harry who was still hanging on to the White Ferret for all that he was worth. His friend wanted him to go, had insisted in fact. “But something tells me that I’ll be needed here again soon, so I thought I would stay for a while. I might see if Bill can get me a job at Gringotts.” Somehow he thought his mum would have a harder time accepting him working with his long-haired brother than his dragon-keeper brother.

Susan tried to smile, but once again, it didn’t quite work. “I’m sure you’ll decide on something. And I’m sure you’re right. You probably will be needed back here before long.” She was looking over his shoulder again. He turned to see what had caught her eye. It was just Hermione and her parents. There was nothing strange about that.

But as he watched, he noticed the shadow over her shoulder, saw their Potions Master materialize from that shadow and shake Hermione’s Muggle parents’ hands. His breath caught in his throat. The look that passed between his friend and their ex-teacher was nothing short of electrifying. That, more than Harry declaring to the whole Wizarding world that he was decidedly in love with the Malfoy turncoat, was terrifying to Ron. But Hermione was a big girl who, he and most of her friends thought, had been in love with Severus Snape a lot longer than even she knew--if indeed she did now.

“Ron…” Susan looked up at him for the first time that day.

He turned back to her, aware that there was none of that fire between the two of them. It was with some regret that he raised his hand and slowly ran his finger down her cheek. “It’s okay, Bones.” He tweaked a lock of her hair and, just before he walked away from her, said, “Take care of yourself.”

It was simple, he thought, as he approached his own parents. He wanted what they had, and he missed the girl Susan used to be enough to want it for her as well--whenever that girl came back, and with whomever she wanted. That was, if she ever came back.