Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise and all that stuff.

Word Count without A/n - 1279

Written for the Book Thief Challenge - Quote 19

Written for the Hogwarts Grounds Challenge - Quidditch Pitch

Written for the Page 394 Challenge - #17

Written for the Disney Character Competition - Mulan

Written for the Before I fall Challenge - Quote 1

Written for the That's You Competition - Tia

Grieving and Healing

Ginny walked softly through the winding corridors of St Mungo's, looking for the maternity wing. She had avoided it for as long as she could, and while she knew it wasn't right to not want to lay eyes on her newest nephew, she couldn't help but dread the visit. Harry had already been, had been before most of the family in fact, because he was to be named the babies godfather, but Ginny had made excuse after excuse to save herself the pain of coming here.

He was now four days old. The only reason they were still in the hospital at all was because poor Angelina had suffered during the labor. The starkness of the hospital made Ginny feel uneasy as she wavered outside the private room currently homing Angelina, George and the new baby. She couldn't think his name. She just... It was the new baby. If she thought of him like that, she might just get through the visit.

She knocked quietly before opening the door and slipping into the room. Angelina was sat up, reading through the many cards and letters sent by family and friends, congratulating them on the birth of their first son. George was stood over a small cot, a look of pure love on his face as he gazed down at baby... the new baby.

"Hey," Ginny said quietly as she closed the door behind her.

"Gin!" George exclaimed with a grin, bounding over to pull his little sister into a bone crushing hug. "I'm so glad you made it."

When he released her, she moved over to softly hug Angelina.

"How are you?" she asked, sitting on the bed.

"I'm getting better. The healers have said I should be allowed home in another few days," Angie replied with a small smile. She was looking at Ginny with far too much understanding and it was making the red head uncomfortable.

George had picked the little bundle of pale blue blankets from the crib and was fetching him over for her to hold. Ginny held out her arms, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she thought it might draw blood.

"Meet little Fred," George said, placing the little boy into Ginny's arms. She looked down at him and gasped. A thatch of red hair sat on his head, slightly darker than her own or her brothers, but still red. It was his eyes that drew her in, the same wide chocolate brown eyes of her dead brother, staring at her from the face of this tiny little baby.

She handed him back to George quickly, standing up as she did.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she muttered as she fled the room, and run down the corridor. Tears streamed down her face as she run as fast as she could, dodging between other patients, staff and visitors, only thinking about escaping the hospital, getting as far away as she could, before the wave of grief moving through her crashed her to the floor.

xxxx

She apparated without having a true destination in mind, and later, she would be surprised she didn't splinch herself. She sank into the snow, not even looking around to see where she was, dropping her head into her arms as she cried.

It was the first time she had allowed herself to cry tears for her brother. Even at his funeral, when others, not even family, had cried and cried, she had sat staring straight ahead, not a tear to be seen. She had to be strong, she told herself. George needed her. Her mother needed her. Harry needed her.

Memories flooded her, the first time Fred showed her how to break into the broom shed, the first time he had her help him with a prank. The last time she saw him. She didn't even get to tell him she loved him, and anyway, he lied to her.

"When this is all over, Gin, me and George, we'll take you out and get absolutely hammered, alright?"

Those were the last words he spoke to her before they arrived at the castle. Before they arrived at the battle. Before he died. Thinking of that moment made a new rush of anger and frustration swell up inside her, drying her tears up.

She looked up, finally noticing where she was. Snow covered the ground around her, and she realised she was wet from where she had sunk when she landed. Fred's grave stone sat in front of her, fresh flowers around it, even as snowflakes fell freshly over them.

"Why? Why did you die!? How could you leave me?" She raged at the stone. "How could you? You left me! You left George! You broke mum's heart!" Snow flew as her magic flexed out around her, reacting to the anger she was feeling. Her fair flew around her head as she screamed at the slab of concrete.

"You left me, you left me, you left me," she sobbed and her anger dissipated as quickly as it had arrived as she stared at where her brother lay in the ground. Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces, irreparable. She wondered if she would ever feel whole again, or if this feeling of having something missing would be inside her for the rest of her life.

"Please come back," she whispered, touching the stone, but of course, he couldn't. He was far passed where he could even hear her plea, never mind answer it.

Sitting on the bench in front of his gravestone, she wiped the tears away, irritated with herself for showing such weakness, even though it was only to herself. She knew she had to get passed this. She couldn't avoid the new Fred forever. A crack indicated the arrival of Harry. She recognised his magic immediately, he had flared it purposefully so she knew who it was.

He sat beside her on the bench, holding out an arm. She leant into him gratefully, glad for his presence.

"George told me what happened."

She nodded, not trusting herself to be able to speak.

"You should have told someone how you were feeling about F - the baby. You know, this is normal Gin. The guilt, the grief you're feeling right now, it's normal. You're allowed to miss your brother."

"It's... I feel weak."

"Grief isn't a weakness. Never think that, because it's not true. If grief was a weakness, every human being on the planet would be guilty of being terminally weak. Showing that you miss Fred, that you love him, it's a strength, Gin. But just think about this. Do you think Fred would want you to avoid Baby Fred? Or do you think he would want you to show him all the tricks he taught you? Fred loved you, Ginny, and you loved him. It's natural that you miss him, but don't avoid life because of it. Live for him, the way he would want you to."

Ginny contemplated Harry's words as they sat in front of the gravestone, and she realised he was right. Sitting up, she smiled a watery smile at Harry.

"Will you come to the hospital with me? I owe my brother and my nephew an apology."

"I'll come with you, but you don't owe anyone an apology. You might owe your nephew a cuddle though."

She chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her, taking her back to the hospital. Maybe now, she could start healing.