A/N: Repost, because I'm a nitwit and forgot to put a disclaimer on it. sigh

Disclaimer: All character within are property of JK Rowling and by extension of movie rights, Warner Brothers. I own nothing.

Puddle Jumping

"Zis is 'orrible!" Fleur caterwauled for the thousandth time, pacing around the Burrow's kitchen in her slip and every so often surveying the pouring rain outside. "Eet was supposed to be perfect weazzer. and now zis!"

"Don't fret, love, it's just a little rain," Bill said soothingly, catching her by the waist as she passed and pulling her into his lap. "We still have practically all day to have the wedding, just be patient."

Fleur's rage almost instantly ebbed as she smiled flirtatiously and cooed, "Oh, Bill..." before leaning down and kissing him.

Ginny, who was nearby shelling peas, rolled her eyes and pulled a face at them. Ever since Bill had been released from Madame Pomfrey's care and then re-released by St. Mungo's healers as well enough to return home Fleur had barely left his side once and the two of their lovey-dovey cooing and endless pet names and snogging was at best stomach-turning.

"Ginerva Weasley, put your tongue back in your mouth, I taught you better than that," Her mother Molly said, sweeping to the kitchen and reclaiming the bowl of peas from Ginny's long-legged lap. "Go get the others, lunch is nearly ready."

Ginny sighed and got up, heading to the long staircase. She took a deep breath and was about to bellow up the stairs that lunch was ready when Molly called from the kitchen, "And don't just shout, Ginny, go up and get them." Ginny sighed again, the wind sufficiently taken out of her sails, and started up the stairs.

Her first stop was the second floor, where her second-eldest brother Charley was buried neck-deep in research reports and assorted dragon-related samples; he smiled and ruffled her hair on his way down to the dining room. Then it was on to the third floor to her own room where Fleur's little sister Gabrielle was staying with Ginny. Gabrielle was much more amiable to Ginny than Fleur was and if their combined low body count was any sort of indicator, they would be fast friends for life. Gabrielle trailed past Ginny with a flighty sort of smile that reminded Ginny strongly of her friend Luna Lovegood as Ginny headed up another floor to her brother Percy's room. She wasn't particularly enthusiastic about having Percy home; he hadn't been very loyal to his family at all the past two years and even now was shut up in his room for about twenty-three hours of the day sending messages to the Ministry and avoiding them as much as possible. She kicked his door and barked "lunch!" at him when his annoyed face poked between the door and frame and then jogged up the stairs to the fifth floor where her brother Ron was along with Harry and Hermione.

The room was eerily silent when Ginny approached it; the opposite of how it had been the summers preceeding the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It felt strange to be able to make such a short time ago seem like ages past in one's head, but truth be told it was an era of tenuous peace now long gone. Ginny steadied herself and gently knocked on the door and took a step or two into the room.

Harry was sitting on the bed, turning the gold locket over and over in his hands. He'd done alomst nothing else all summer; the locket was smudged and almost erroded in places from the long hours he spent staring at it, turning it over in his hands, opening and shutting it. Ron sprawled on the floor by Harry's feet with a book on the Chudley Cannons open in his lap, but every so often he'd steal a glance up at Harry or over at Hermione, who was sitting in the chair to Ron's desk. Her hands were tightly clasped in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles, and her eyes staring toawrds the wall somewhere over Harry's head, almost as if she were bracing herself for some sort of cataclysm. All three looked up as Ginny entered and she gave a halfhearted smile.

"Mum's got lunch ready if you're hungry," she said, gesturing towards the door.

"Thanks, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling but not seeming to really feel it. The three of them trooped out the door, Ginny bringing up the rear behind Harry.

She'd tried all summer to talk to him, hoping that somehow she could put their recent brief relationship and quick breakup behind her and just go back to being one of his friends; this had proved more difficult than she had imagined, however, as every time she tried to start a conversation with him the defiant bracing strength behind his eyes took her back and made her think of how golden their short love affair had been and before she could finish more than a few sentences the air became regretful and awkward that she had to leave the room and go talk to someone else.

Lunch was its usual tense affair, punctuated by occasional weather-related outbursts from Fleur and resulting reassurances from Bill. Ginny finished her meal quickly and was excused from the table to go up to her room. She trudged upstairs and sighed as she flopped onto her bed, burying her face in the matress and feeling rather like she just wanted to go to sleep and forget the real world for a while. But like Bill said, the rain would proabaly soon let up and then she'd have to be cinched into the corset-like bodice of her bridesmaid dress and make sure she managed to keep herself awake throughout the long ceremony. It wasn't a prospect that was especially conforting, but it was enough to make sure Ginny didn't drift off and incur Fleur's wrath.

Ginny pulled herself up into a sitting position and sat on the edge of her bed near her window and leaned her chin on her hands on the window sill, staring down into the mudpuddles in the worn dirt drive between the house, field, and broom shed. It looked surprisingly inviting; she hadn't gone puddle jumping since she had been about nine years old, but with this much rain it would actually be fun to tromp through the mud and get completely filthy as a passtime. She stood up and went to her chest of drawers, digging through the bottom drawer until she found one of Bill's old pairs of sleep shorts (which had a large golden snitch across the backside) and a long-sleeved grey teeshirt that had once been her father's and changed into them so that her mother wouldn't lecture her about getting good clothes dirty. After making sure her mother was well-occupied with the dishes and attempting to keep Fleur under control while she continued to rail about the rain, Ginny grabbed an umbrella and sneaked out the front door and out to the drive.

The rain was still coming at a good clip as Ginny ambled up and down the path, sinking up to her ankles in dark, thick mud. She pulled her feet up with a murky "schluck" noise and took a running two-footed leap into the nearest puddle, spashing thinner mud up to her thighs and nearly falling down onto the soggy ground. It was almost calming, to simply run, jump, land and then get back up and do it again. It gave her something to think about other than having to deal with Fleur as a sister-in-law or Harry breaking up with her because he had to be so selflessly noble about her or the mission to who-knows-where she had overheard Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking about one night. All she had to focus on right now was how large of a splash she could make and then one-upping herself on the next puddle as she became steadily more soaked and dirty. Soon, however, the novelty wore off and she found herself taking little ballet leaps from puddle to puddle then sinking in and standing in the mud, which had creapt halfway up her calves, and staring off at the horizon. Somewhere out there the most evil, vile monstrosity ever to call itself human was lying in wait, hoping to kill off the man she was in love with. And because of that, she couldn't even help said object of her affection; Harry had made it abundantly clear that this was not something he wanted her wrapped up in and though Ginny wanted desperately to go along with him and her brother and Hermione, she knew she couldn't. If she went along with them Harry would be too busy worrying about her safety on top of Ron's, Hermione's and his own to be able to carry out his plans properly; any way she looked at it, that spelled potential danger for Harry and the last thing she would ever do in life would be to willingly put Harry in danger. So yet again she would be left behind to fight on the sidelines while worry gnawed at her stomach.

The sound of a splash behind her made Ginny whip around, wand pointed at the source. She quickly flushed and lowered it as she saw it was Harry standing in a puddle a few feet behind her, barefoot with his jeans rolled up to his knees as to not drag them in the mud. There was a tense moment of silence between them, then Ginny looked away from Harry and back at the ground, mumbling, "Hiya, Harry."

"Hey," Harry replied. "I saw you out here and wondered what you were doing."

"Nothing," Ginny said. "I just had to get away from Phlegm before I turned her wedding day into her funeral."

Harry gave a wan smile. "She is going a little overboard about this," he agreed.

"It's just a little rain," Ginny said, a sudden true fury welling up in her. "I mean, she's got Bill wrapped around her little finger and he's not going anywhere. Her wedding can happen whenever she damn well pleases without her having to worry about whether Bill's going to be gone before it can happen or if the world's going to implode before she gets to walk down the stupid aisle in her stupid frilly dress. All she has to do is be patient and wait for the stupid rain to stop, it's not like she doesn't know if he's going to come home after the next time he walks out the door!" She puctuated this exclamation by kicking filthy water out in front of her as hard as she could, splashing more onto herself more than anything else. She sighed angrily and looked back around at Harry, who was watching her with a docile, sympathetic look on his face.

"I'm worried too, Ginny," he said softly, hitting the nail on the head. "I know it should've ended better with us, but..."

"But it didn't," Ginny finished for him, nodding. "We both have regrets about it, but that doesn't change anything, and we both know it. It would just help if it was a little easier to cope with knowing it."

Harry nodded silently, rain dotting his glasses and plastering his hair to his forehead. It was odd to see him like this, surprisingly vulnerable in his soaked clothing and looking such a wreck and yet feeling the determined power and fierce commitment rolling off of his skinny-but-sturdy frame. It reminded Ginny yet again why she had liked him--really liked him, not just been a giddy fangirl of her older brother's best friend--in the first place; through everything that fell down around him, Harry was a constant one could really count on to be there.

"I should get back inside," Harry muttered, turning to go. Ginny hestitated for a moment, watching him starting back off towards the house, then took off after him, throwing her arms around his waist from behind and burying her face in his shoulder. Harry stopped, one his hands resting on both of hers.

"Just...just promise me on thing, okay?" Ginny said, her voice wavering with held-in tears. "Promise you'll come home safe, all right? Come back with your shield, not on it."

Harry's hand squeezed her and Ginny felt him nod. "I promise." It was a promise both of them knew was almost certainly unkeepable, but somehow it made Ginny feel hopeful.

The rain soon stopped and Bill and Fleur were married more or less right on schedule, with many smiles from the bride and groom and many tears from Molly and Arthur. Ginny somehow managed to keep a smile on her face throughout, imagining her own wedding; something like this, a small wedding at home surrounded by friends and family, with Harry on her arm, pledging to be there forever after that moment.

After the celebrations had ceased, well into the wee hours of the morning Ginny sat up in the kitchen with a cup of tea, unable to sleep for thoughts of what would now happen. No word had been given yet on the status of the fight to keep Hogwarts open for another year; more and more people were turning up missing or dead, including several current and former Order members; Lupin had once agin gone underground to the werewolves, causing Tonks to once again come around the Burrow on a weekly basis with her hair a mottled brownish-pink and growing dark circles beneath her eyes. The world was slowly crumbling around them all and now Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be trooping off to their possible doom. Hope still remained, but it was often crushed into a corner underneath all the heavy facts.

"Ow! Ron, that was my foot!"

"Hermione, would you be quiet? Mum might catch us!"

"Watch where you're going then!"

Ginny raised her head from staring into her milky cooling tea at the sound of Hermione and Ron's hissed bickering coming from the hall from the stairwell to the kitchen. They, along with Harry, walked into the kitchen and began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for canned food to pack into an empty rucksack Ron set onto a counter. Ginny watched them silently, wondering if they had even realized she was there.

"Do you think we'll need these?" Ron asked Hermione, holding up a couple of Muggle canteens that Arthur had sent away from behind Molly's back.

"You should take them anyway," Ginny said as she took a sip of tea, making the three of them jump.

"Oh, Ginny, hi," Hermione said brightly, trying to step in from of the rucksack of food. "We were just...um..."

"Seirously, you should take those," Ginny said, pointing to the canteens. "They hold more water than they look like they would."

"Oh," Hermione said, seeming a little disarmed at Ginny's calm tone.

Ginny forced a smile and shurgged. "Who am I to stand in the way of a mission to save the known world?" she asked rhetorically. "Just come home safe."

The other three looked at one another, collectively shrugged, and finished packing supplies before bidding Ginny a quiet goodbye and sneaking out the kitchen door. Ginny stood up as they left and drew the curtain back from the kitchen window, watching them go.

"See you when you get back," she whispered as she blinked back tears. She poured the rest of her tea down the sink, rinsed out her cup, and went upstairs to bed. All anyone could do now was hope, pray, and wait for them to get home.