Breath-Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 65

"I don't really have a problem hearing anymore, just high pitches. The ringing comes back at night, sometimes, when it's really silent."

He nodded, and that awkward silence blanketed us again, which made it all the more difficult to do what I wanted to do with Ron. It took me more than a moment to continue the conversation.

"How's Wheezes?"

And when I asked that, it was clear that it struck a chord with Ron. After all, that was where he'd found George the first time he tried anything. He quit being an Auror to work for Wheezes and be with George, even if he still did work for the Aurors, promising himself, his wife, and his brother to stay with Wheezes full time once everything blew over.

Everything blew over, and with it, the Weasleys lost Fleur, Angelina, and, worst of all, in my opinion, Charlie. Everyone was devastated, but not the way George and his children were.

Wheezes hasn't reopened since before the fighting broke out.

Ron swallowed.

"I need to re-open it, but I just," he sighed, looking out in front of them. "Not yet. I can't... George left me the keys, you know. But I just... I haven't been able to."

I nodded in understanding, watching Ron's expression as it sat with grief. That silence that I was beginning to hate crept up on us again. With a sigh, I looked around for the nearest bench for us to sit on. I nudged Ron and pointed towards it.

"Let's sit."

We settled into our seats as soon as we got to them. Ron sat to my right. My lips formed a thin line as I took a deep breath in, calculating how to approach this. Slowly, I reached into my pocket, feeling around until my fingers brushed against a familiar cardstock parchment, and pulled it out.

"I want you to have this."

Ron leaned close to me, peering over to read the small card.

Kathrine Gilroy, Psy.D.

"Who's that?"

"She's helped me a lot, my, er, Muggle therapist. I want you to be able to have her available to you, too."

"Oh. She's... she's the one that's been helping you, yeah?"

I nodded, licking my lips and holding back the sudden urge to cry.

"Yeah. And I just- I want you to have that too. Death and grief, it's..." I had to stop, blinking rapidly and taking a deep breath, trying to get my lungs to expand.

"Mate, what's going on?"

I sniffled, looking straight at Ron and keeping myself composed.

"Nothing. Just, death and grief are part of life, you know. We've both had more than our fair share of it, and," I began speaking rather rapidly, my composure thinning. "I just don't think this is the last of it, so," I scrubbed a hand over my face, then clasped them together, huffing out deliberate breaths. "Just promise me that you won't let it consume you. Don't... I want you to keep pushing forward, to find the good, and to make sure you don't forget about the family you have here with you."

Ron's brows knit close together in a way that only made my heart pound and the weight on my chest increase. He watched me intently, trying to puzzle out what I was saying.

"Harry, of course, but, where is this coming from? Are you alright?"

"Mhm," I bit my lip, forcing another breath through flared nostrils. I swallowed my nerve. "I am. I promise, I am. I just need you to promise that no matter who else you lose, you'll still be alright.