Enough Trouble

Chapter 1: George's Eulogy

Harry stared at the Chudley Cannon posters above him as he lay awake. Ron snored loudly in the bed beside him, and George was tossing and turning beside his brother. It was difficult for Harry to sleep lately, what with all of the haunting dreams he had. It had been a week since he had finally destroyed Voldemort once and for all, and yet, everything was not well. So far, he had attended the funeral for Colin Creevey, his 'biggest fan' who was only a year younger than him. He had died fighting the Dark Lord to buy Harry time to find, and destroy, the final Horcrux. The death was not in vain, as Tom Riddle now stood dead, without any chance of returning, but it still felt unnecessary… if he had given himself up at the beginning… if he had only found the Horcrux sooner…

George sobbed loudly in his sleep. Ron mumbled something and sat up, awake as Harry was, staring around. The red-haired, freckled teenager turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry pointed at George, who was gripping his sheets tightly and muttering, "Fred… Fred… Fred!" Nobody blamed him. Because of Harry, his twin brother had lost his life, and George himself had lost his left ear. Fred Weasley's funeral was the next day, and George had not become any less distraught over his death.

Death was a funny thing, lately. Within the past seven years, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had escaped death many times, had prevented a few of them, then watched as their closest friends died. Harry himself had even perished at the hands of his enemy for a short while. The fact that the three of them had persevered through this whole ordeal was incredible; they had outrun the corrupt Ministry of Magic, survived the Death Eaters and dementors, destroyed Voldemort's Horcruxes… and then Harry thought about his life before all of this. He thought about the Dursley's, and how they had discouraged anything out of the ordinary. How, if someone had mentioned that in eight years' time that Harry Potter would have destroyed the Dark Lord himself and save the Wizarding World, he would have laughed and told them not to say it to his uncle, Vernon.

Then Hogwarts had come along, on his eleventh birthday, and everything changed. He had friends, he wasn't constantly bullied, and better than anything else, he had a real home, where people loved and cared about him. Once there, Harry had done so many things… he had played so much Quidditch… he had started Dumbledore's Army, which had become an underground resistance force in his absence. Harry had also, with the help of Ron, Hermione, and many other people, stopped Voldemort from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone; opened the Chamber of Secrets and killed a basilisk, as well as a Horcrux, but he didn't know it then; he had repelled hundreds of dementors and gone back in time to save his godfather, Sirius Black; he had been mysteriously entered into the Triwizard Tournament by a Death Eater disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, who were both now dead, and had come out the victor, clutching Cedric Diggory's body after a narrow escape from the newly resurrected Voldemort; they had gone to the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry of Magic to stop Voldemort from getting the Prophecy and killing Sirius, which, as it turns out, only happened because they had interfered; he had gone to a foreign cave with Albus Dumbledore to retrieve a Horcrux that was no longer there, only to watch him murdered by Severus Snape upon their return; then, only last year, the Trio had run from Bill and Fleur's wedding and began to hunt the Horcruxes by themselves, culminating in the climactic battle that destroyed so many lives… Fred, Colin, Remus, Tonks…

"Harry," whispered Ron, who was now wide-awake. "Harry, come on. It's almost five in the morning."

"I can't sleep," he whispered back. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to be haunted by the nightmares that plagued his every thought.

"C'mon, then, let's go down and get something to eat," said Ron, standing up slowly and quietly, so as not to wake George. Harry smiled weakly and stood as well, putting an arm on his best friend's shoulder. Ron looked at him seriously.

"You know, Ron, I've never really thought about it this way before, but you've stuck with me through everything. You and Hermione, you've really been there, even when no one else was… you've had your bad moments, though," Harry added, remembering the time last year when Ron had abandoned he and Hermione in the middle of a forest, "but you usually redeem yourself… so… thanks…" Harry pulled Ron into a brotherly embrace, feeling a strong sense of unbreakable friendship between them.

"Yeah, mate, don't worry about it," said Ron, blushing slightly. "Now's not the time for this sentimental stuff. I mean, save it for…" His voice trailed off. Harry knew he was about to say 'for the funerals,' but didn't want to bring the subject up.

"Yeah, you're right… well, let's go then," Harry said, pulling the door open quietly.

They tiptoed downstairs silently, passing each door slowly so as to not wake their inhabitants. They were sure that Mrs. Weasley would not want to be deprived of her sleep. She had killed Bellatrix Lestrange during the final battle for nearly killing Ginny. Ginny… so much had gone on between Harry and Ron's little sister, and yet so little had actually happened. Harry paused as he reached Ginny's door, contemplating whether to wake her and Hermione to join them for an early breakfast. Ron turned around and watched Harry, obviously thinking the same thing. Finally, Harry turned the doorknob slowly, then let it go, shaking his head as he continued down the steps with Ron.

"What made you stop?" Ron asked quietly as they descended into the kitchen. It was cluttered with various cooking utensils and other magical objects. On top of a nearby counter sat Molly Weasley's magic clock that told not the time, but the state or location of each member of the family. The hand bearing the name 'Fred Weasley' had fallen off, but every other hand was pointing to 'Home,' even Percy's, who had recently deserted the family and ran back to them the week before, begging forgiveness. It had been he who had given Fred his last laugh, and who had felt the most pain at his death, besides George, of course.

Ron picked up a metal pot and bewitched it to float over to the stove, proceeding to enchant several other objects that began to clean themselves, heat themselves, or else chop something. Harry watched in astonishment; how come he could cook now, and yet while they were camping for Horcruxes, he criticized Hermione for her sub-standard mushrooms. Obviously Ron saw his face and guessed what he was thinking.

"I just know how to make carrot stew, and only if I have the right stuff. So don't look at me like that," said Ron, frowning as he fixed the enchantment on a knife that was trying to cut carrots with its handle. Harry gave a short chuckle and stood up to go out into the garden. Ron followed.

"Why are we having stew for breakfast?" Harry asked, breaking the slight tension.

"I told you, that's all I can cook," replied Ron, folding his arms. The two of them watched the stars begin to fade. The sun was beginning to rise, announced by a small patch of lighter blue in the distance. A chicken clucked somewhere in the yard and Ron shifted in the cold. "You know, I think I'm going to ask Hermione to marry me."

"What? Are you insane?" asked Harry. Ron looked at him, obviously appalled at this comment.

"Well, I don't mean now… later though, like after we've been dating for a while," said Ron, explaining himself to his friend. Harry emitted a small sound.

"I suppose that's all good then, Ron!" said Harry, patting him on the back. Ron smiled weakly.

"You know, I wondered something," Ron said, turning to face Harry. "D'you think we could go and do our seventh year at Hogwarts?"

"You actually want to?" asked Harry, bewildered. Ron was usually the one to suggest anything against school.

"Well, yeah, I do. I kind of feel… cheated," said Ron. "I mean, we didn't get to finish because of You… well, V-Voldemort."

"Ron, you said his name!" said Harry excitedly.

"He's dead, you know, and there's no reason to be afraid of it, right?" asked Ron. "But, do you want to go back to Hogwarts? Of all the people, I'd have thought you'd want to go. Besides, we'd be in the same year as Ginny…" said Ron, giving a suggestive grin.

"Are you actually giving me permission again?" asked Harry incredulously. The last time Harry had kissed Ginny, Ron had yelled at Harry and made him promise to stay away from her.

"Er… well, I mean… I dunno. There's really no point in you staying away from her now, is there? Oh, blimey!" he asked, turning to see that his stew was burning and rushing to put it out. Harry followed him in slowly, smiling with his hands in his pockets. Ron had just broken off the agreement. He could chase Ginny again. But this was hardly the time to think about that. They had a funeral to attend in only a few hours.

There were footsteps on the staircase and Mrs. Weasley came dashing down them, holding her wand lazily above her head. She waved it sleepily and a jet of water began to put out the now blazing pot of carrot stew. She waved it sharply and a broom began to whack her son over the head.

"Ronald Weasley!" came an angry shout, not from Mrs. Weasley, but from her daughter Ginny, who reminded Harry of her mother very vividly on some occasions. "What in the hell are you doing?"

"Get back to bed, the lot of you!" said Mrs. Weasley, beginning to cook something herself. She was very stony and difficult to approach since Fred's death, and Harry suspected that that was increased by the looming burial of her son.

"I couldn't sleep, Mrs. Weasley. I woke Ron and asked if he could make me anything. Sorry," said Harry, getting a surprised look from Ron in return. Ginny had just noticed that he was in the room and froze where she was. Mrs. Weasley just stopped what she was doing and sighed.

"I don't think any of us can sleep very well, Harry, dear… and don't take the blame. I think I know my own sons well enough to know when they're doing something stupid of their own accord. Trust me, I raised…" Mrs. Weasley couldn't continue her speech, bursting out in frantic sobs. Harry knew she had been about to say 'I raised Fred and George,' which was a frequent excuse used by the Weasleys, especially Ginny, who ran over to comfort her mother. They had become very close since Mrs. Weasley had saved her daughter from Bellatrix.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, realizing that he had caused this.

"No, no… it's not your…" she began, but paused before Harry could respond to this. Nobody wanted to let him think that it was his fault, no matter how much he knew it was. They said it was worth it, and that all of those people gave their lives to protect him and vanquish Voldemort, which had happened, and so they were not in vain.

"You know what, I think I'll go up to bed," said Harry quickly, and he set up the stairs before the situation could become any worse. He found George wide-awake and sitting up in his bed when the door opened. Harry walked over to him and patted him on the back.

"Hey… Harry…" said George, his voice cracked and silent. He had obviously just been crying when they were all downstairs. "He's… really… he's… we're burying him…"

"Yeah…" said Harry. "I'm really-"

"Save it," said George, faking a smile, "it's not your fault. We told you. Fr… Fr… He… He did everything he'd've wanted to do… he died laughing… he died to help you… he died to kill Voldemort. It's fine."

"George…" said Harry, watching him silently. George's lip trembled, but he stood up powerfully and grinned, filling Harry with a strong respect for the twinless man.

"Well, what kind of trouble is ickle Ronnykins getting himself into?" asked George, striding down the stairs without waiting for a response. Harry was left alone in the bedroom, which was becoming brighter every moment. He sat down on his bed, throwing himself down to try and fall asleep after a few seconds. He still couldn't drift off. He still didn't want to see those blank faces staring at him…

"Harry?" Ginny had stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Harry sat up to look at her. She was beautiful, even when she had just woken up, with her blazing red hair, her soft face… "How're you feeling?"

"What? Oh, I'm…" Harry wanted to say fine, but that would be a lie. He couldn't sleep, couldn't think of anything but the people who died for him, couldn't eat…

"Harry, don't lie to me," she said, walking over and sitting beside him. He took in a deep breath and tried to fight back tears. He didn't want her to see him cry. While he was still fighting Voldemort, he didn't have the time to feel so overwhelmed, but now that he was free to think, it had all hit him at once. Mad-Eye… Fred… Lupin… Tonks… they were gone, and they weren't coming back. No more Moody roaming the halls, shouting "Constant vigilance!" No more Fred and George making fun of Ron with Harry, no more Remus Lupin smiling at him and telling him about his father, and no more Nymphadora Tonks changing her face for their amusement at dinner… no more Severus Snape berating him for his potion consistency…

"I'm… fine…" Harry's voice cracked, his eyes swelled up, and his vision blurred. Ginny put her arms around him, but he pulled back, forcing everything back. He had to accept their deaths like he did his own.

"Harry, please. It's fine, really! I don't think you're any less of a man for crying or anything. Hell, as Dumbledore would say, that would make you even more of a man! Feeling remorse for death is a sign of strength… of love!" Ginny held up a fist, and Harry couldn't help but stare into her eyes. She returned the look and grinned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Harry. "But I don't really feel like it anymore."

"Alright," said Ginny. She looked at him, "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Go down and get some breakfast, I suppose," said Harry, smiling at her. He walked over to the door, and no sooner had he put his hand on the knob than it burst open, sending him back onto the ground, staring up at the culprit.

"Harry! Ginny! Come on! Quick!" said George, staring wild-eyed around the room.

"What is it?" Harry asked, dashing down the stairs behind George. He saw exactly what had startled George so much, and stared it right in the face. Draco Malfoy was in the kitchen, looking directly at Harry. Ron was seated at a table, glaring spitefully at the blonde, snobbish boy who stood in his home.

"Malfoy," Harry muttered, not taking his eyes off of the boy. Draco shifted around, obviously trying to find the words he wanted to say and choosing them carefully.

"Potter… I wanted to… you know, thank you… for saving me… twice." Draco scratched his head and turned to leave. "Thanks, then."

"You're welcome," Harry replied. He decided not to add "You traitorous little git," and shot Ron a look to warn him against finishing the phrase as well.

"There's something else," said Draco, pausing before Disapparating. "My father would like to invite you to tea at Malfoy Manor sometime…"

"I'd have to think about it," Harry said darkly. He didn't really want to go there. After all, the only time he had ever been there, he and Ron had been imprisoned with Ollivander and Luna, Hermione had been tortured, and Peter Pettigrew and Dobby the House Elf had been killed.

"Well… you can all come, I suppose… mother wouldn't be happy, what with Aunt Bellatrix dead… but I suppose she's glad I'm alive. Come 'round any time then, Potter," said Draco, and he was gone. The room was still and silent for a long time, then everyone remembered that they had a funeral to attend soon and preparation sped up.

By twelve noon, everyone had eaten, washed, and dressed, ready for the funeral of Fred Weasley. George was surprisingly calm and strong about all of it, which only made Harry's respect for him grow. Ginny had watched George put on his tie sadly, and he turned, grinned at her, and said, "Relax, Ginevra, or we'll be burying you next!" Harry saw her manage a smile, though this statement really disturbed her, and he went to comfort her after George had left the room. It wasn't a surprise to Harry that George could find humor in this somber time; he had, after all, made several jokes about his severed ear when that had happened.

Finally, as the sun was directly over their heads, they all set off to the funeral in a Ministry car. It had been bewitched to be much more spacious than any Muggle car could have been, and the entire Weasley family, Harry, and Hermione could fit within it comfortably. Harry was situated in the back seat between Percy and Ginny in the back seat, facing Ron and Hermione, who were in a backwards seat that reminded Harry of a limousine. Percy turned to him and smiled.

"Hey, Harry. Have I told you that I'm really sorry about everything?" he asked, looking at him hopefully. Harry chuckled and nodded.

"At least a hundred times, Percy," said Harry. Ginny and Ron laughed, and George piped up.

"A hundred and twelve!" he said, sticking his nose in the air in a good impression of the old Percy. They all laughed about this for a while, glad for a distraction from the depressing times around them.

The car had finally stopped in front of a large church in Ottery St. Catchpole village, beside which rested several brooms and other modes of transport. Harry saw Hagrid's giant motorbike parked beside what he believed to be a hippogriff. He smiled as he remembered Buckbeak and how much he had done to help Harry in his lifetime. In fact, the hippogriff was Buckbeak! Hagrid had probably brought him to pay respects to a boy he had never met. Buckbeak squawked as Harry got out of the car and he approached the bird, bowed, and went to pet the creature after it bowed back.

"Harry, come on," said Mr. Weasley after a few moments, and he waved goodbye to his old friend, walking over to the front of the church again. Inside it was filled with many people whom the Weasley twins had been friends with, such as Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell, and various other people who knew them. Lee Jordan stood up to comfort George, and Harry looked around the room. He recognized about half of the people there: he saw all of the people he had known from Gryffindor, such as Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom, and he saw Verity, the blonde witch who had assisted the twins at their joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which Harry wondered about. Would George continue to run it, or would he sell the business? Or would he just shut it down altogether?

He gazed around at all of the people he didn't know and guessed that they were frequent customers of W.W.W. They all sympathized with George, shaking hands firmly as he passed their row, and they gave their condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They reached the end of the row and sat down quietly. The old wizard that had presided over Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding stepped up to a podium and delivered a speech that Harry paid no attention to. Time seemed to be dragging on forever as the man spoke. Harry's eyelids were becoming heavy, and he felt himself fall lightly onto Ginny's shoulder once or twice.

"Pay attention!" she whispered sharply. Harry opened his eyes and looked at her. She looked angry at him for dozing off at such a time, and he blinked.

"He doesn't know Fred… he can't possibly say anything I want to hear. I'd be more interested in Lee Jordan doing this. He really knew Fred. He'd do great! 'Cept he'd make unnecessary comments, but I could live with that," said Harry, being entirely truthful. Ginny smiled, and he knew at once that he had said the right thing. She agreed with him and all through the old man's speech they wondered what Lee Jordan would say between the boring routine. George chimed in halfway through, cheering them up quite a bit. Once or twice, Harry turned around and saw that Lee Jordan was, indeed, making quiet commentary to Seamus Finnigan and everyone around him. It must have been funny, as they were all almost always shaking with silent laughter.

The old wizard finished and they all left the church to go to the graveyard. It was hot and uncomfortable to Harry, who strode through the black-clad crowd, and the silence was very eerie. A single, deep hole was dug in the ground beneath a large headstone that bore the legend 'Fred Weasley: Son, Brother, Twin.' His birth and death dates were etched under that. There was another podium out here, right in front of the coffin, and several chairs sat before it. Harry didn't want to sit, and neither did the other Weasleys. Ron stood to Harry's right this time, leaning on his shoulder, holding Hermione in a comforting manner, and Ginny was yet again on his left.

"We will ask Mr. George Weasley to deliver the eulogy," said the old wizard who had given the earlier speech, and George broke through the assembly of people to stand at the podium. He cleared his throat.

"Hello, everyone," said George, managing a weak smile before continuing on. "Well, as you know, my brother Freddy here bit the dust. He died doing what many would be glad to die doing, and he was! He died to buy Harry Potter time, and he did that very well, I think!" George paused, overcome with emotion. He took a deep breath and went on. "He died laughing, too, as my brother Percival informs me-" Percy shifted silently, "-and I'm glad that he did. That's what we both wanted: to die fighting or die laughing, and he did both that lucky son of a-" Mr. Weasley shot him a look, "-of Arthur Weasley, my father… our father. And I'm sure we've all had personal experiences with all of you. Lee, our best friend! You were there for us at every turn, and we thank you for that! It means so much to us that you're here, mate!"

"I wouldn't miss this if my Aunt's funeral was on the same day!" cried Lee. "Well, she's a real bad person, you see…" George wiped one of his eyes as he laughed.

"Oliver Wood," he said, turning to the first Quidditch Captain Harry had ever had, "y'know, if he were here, he'd've probably told you where you could stick your broom, but I'll be nicer than that. You came, and that's important to me." George raised a fist as Oliver raised his in salute to Fred. "Now that you're Puddlemere United royalty, you'd probably object to a good old game of Quidditch later, so I won't ask-"

"Of course! You tell me when and where and I'll be there!" said Wood defensively. George looked genuinely touched.

"My place, after the funeral!" said George, and Oliver wrote it down, watching George defiantly.

"Aright, now that that's settled, anyone else from the old team can join in as well. Now, without all of these distractions, I can continue my damned eulogy!" A few people laughed, including Harry. "Now, Fred and I did a lot together… nearly every waking moment since birth, we were side by side, probably doing something to get us kicked out of the house, or out of school, or out of any place we were, come to think of it… anywhere we went, people knew we had been there. Most of you know about our heroic escape from Hogwarts only a few years ago, and a lot more of you know about our business in Diagon Alley, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which I have yet to decide what to do with now. It won't be as much fun to do without him, y'know?" George's face looked really sad, as though he had just realized this moments ago. He paused for a moment, and Harry's eyes felt that familiar pang that meant they were about to flood. Beside him, Ron and Ginny were already crying, and Hermione was at the same point he was.

"Well, I don't know what else to say. He was my best friend, above everything else, and I couldn't have done everything I did without him. He is my other half, you know. Without Fred, there is no Fred and George. No Weasley twins. Now, it's just George Weasley, and I'm sure the entire world will feel that blow. So much we could have done, so much we wanted to do… now, it all just seems pointless. But cheer up! Fred would never want you to cry over him, though admittedly, I've failed him there too, but… But, there are no buts, I want you to laugh, and so does he! Out of respect for the dead, I'm not going to moon all of you like I had planned to, but I will give you all this!" And George drew, from his pocket, a small, triangular carton. He pointed his wand at it and, within seconds, it had exploded and sent a shower of living sparks into the air. They created an image of Fred, grinning and giving the entire crowd a large thumbs up, under which was spelled:

'IN LOVING MEMORY OF FRED WEASLEY, WITHOUT WHOM NOTHING WOULD BE POSSIBLE'

Harry could no longer contain his tears, and he saw that George, staring up at his work, could not either. Ginny had taken to sobbing uncontrollably into Harry chest, and Hermione was doing the same to Ron's. The funeral was over moments later, and everybody began to walk home in tears. Lee Jordan went over to embrace his best friend, sniffing and sobbing like everyone else. Ginny tugged at Harry's hand and looked up at him.

"I'm going to go find a bathroom," she said, and he nodded in response, unable to say anything.

Oliver Wood came up to Harry as soon as she'd left and embraced him sadly, feeling that this was not the time for handshakes. He was much more powerfully built, Harry noticed, than he had been since he left Hogwarts, and he was definitely one of the people who was more affected by all of this than most people.

"Six years on a Quidditch team, and never have I met two greater Beaters. They're much better people than most that I know now, as well. Such great, wonderful boys, those Weasleys," said Wood, tearing up a little as he spoke. "So, how are you doing now, Potter? What with vanquishing Voldemort and the like?"

"You were there, Wood," said Harry, finding it difficult to say a lot that was on his mind.

"Of course I was! There's no way Oliver Wood was going to miss out on a fight like that! It's good that Fred's avenged, then. It makes it seem a lot less terrible," Wood muttered, looking up at the fireworks. They hadn't yet faded, but it was difficult to tell whether Fred was giving thumbs up or another gesture that was not so encouraging. Perhaps George made it that way on purpose.

"I suppose not," said Harry, turning around. Ginny wasn't back yet, and he decided to go look for her. He waved to Oliver and set off into the church. A lot of people were gathered in there; the pews had been magically cleared out and tables had been set up for the reception, covered in punch, wine, and various different foods. Harry looked for a bathroom, and when he found one, Ginny wasn't in it. He searched the building and found her at last in a dark room that was as far from the chattering people as it could be.

"Oh, hi Harry," she croaked, jumping when he entered, "I was just…" Harry walked over to her and held her in his arms, deciding that it was better than saying anything. She began to talk about all the things she and Fred and George had done when they were children, and how much she looked up to them.

"Well, you still have George don't you? I'm sure he'd be pretty disappointed to hear that you think he's no fun by himself." Harry was sitting on the couch that Ginny had been sitting on when he arrived. She was on his lap, leaning against him and crying on his shoulder. She gave a weak laugh when he said this and Harry wiped her eyes.

"Yeah, he would. I guess it's a good thing I have so many brothers. I thought it was rough because I was the only girl, but really, all of my brothers are…" Ginny couldn't say what they were.

"Well, two are funny, one's sarcastic and jealous, one used to be uptight and snobby but is now relaxed and calm, one's the embodiment of cool, and one works with dragons. Enough said." Harry smiled at her, and she looked deep into his green eyes.

"Harry…" she said quietly.

"What?" he asked in return, watching as her eyes became red and teary. She leaned close to him and kissed him for several long minutes. When they stopped, Harry realized that he was lying on his back on the couch and Ginny was lying on top of him. Before he could correct the situation, the door flew open and George walked in.

"Oi! What are you doing to my sister?" he asked with a grin. Ron walked in with Hermione, his eyes wide. Hermione blushed.

"Have you found them, Geo-what are you doing to my daughter, Harry?" Mr. Weasley had walked in. Harry could tell he was joking, but he was still feeling very trapped.

"He was just about to make his parents proud, weren't you Harry?" said Ginny, grinning as she stood up. Harry stood up as well, blushing deep red and staring at the onlookers. Ginny wrapped her arms around one of his as though they were a couple.

"I… uh… I was…" he couldn't say that he was just trying to find her and comfort her about Fred, and he knew it wasn't smart to try and be funny and say, 'That was the general idea.' Best leave those things to George.

"Well, mate?" Ron asked, throwing him a questioning look. Harry felt that this was the deciding point between he and Ginny for now, and sighed, looking into Ginny's eyes. She returned the gaze and nodded. Harry cleared his throat, and said, "Ginny and I are going to the Burrow now."

"No you aren't," said Ron, looking horrified. "Not alone, you're not!"

"Ron, relax," said Ginny, releasing Harry's arm, "we're just joking.

"Joking? Do you see anybody laughing, Ginny?" asked Ron, releasing Hermione, who went over and pulled Harry aside to talk to him.

"What are you trying to pull? Isn't Ron angry over you and Ginny? This is hardly the time to be doing this type of thing!" Hermione said, glaring at Harry. He looked around the room as he tried to find an answer. Besides the couch, there were very few other things in the room. All Harry noticed were a few cupboards and a table.

"I'm not trying to pull anything. She disappeared, I went looking for her, I comforted her, and she kissed me! I'm such a terrible person, I know!" Harry whispered sharply. Hermione sighed contently and went back to try and calm Ron down. He just stormed out of the room angrily, followed by Mr. Weasley. Hermione shot him one last look before following her boyfriend out of the room.

"So, Harry, you didn't answer me," said George. "What the hell are you doing with my sister?"

"We were just snogging," said Ginny with a laugh. George grinned.

"Good, because I've got a niece or nephew born nine months to Freddy's funeral, there'll be hell to pay. Bye now," George said happily, leaving the room.

"So," said Ginny, turning to Harry, "is this it? Or was it just comfort snogging?"

"Well, I'd like to say that this is it…" said Harry. Ginny lit up, but he held up a hand. "But, I don't think we should until all the funerals are over. I mean, who wants to be together in this depressing era?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, Harry. Well, I'll see you!" Ginny said, kissing him on the cheek and running out of the room. Finally, for the first time in days, Harry was happy.