Author's Note: I haven't quite decided whether or not to call this a one-shot or to keep going. If I keep going, I need to sit down and actually think about a plot. XD. But I really like the premise, so chances are that'll happen.
Also, obviously, none of this belongs to me. It's J.K. Rowling's, yadda yadda, you know the deal. Enjoy.
Oh, one more thing. George referring to Fred as his "soulmate" does not mean they're in love. I know that's the normal usage of that term, but I really like the way it sounds where it is and I don't want to have to change it. They were very close brothers, that's all.
The sky was grey and overcast, reflecting the mood of the Weasley family as they prepared to bury their son and brother. The Burrow was getting a thorough cleaning for the second time in a year and for a very different, very opposite reason.
Fred wouldn't've wanted it this way, Harry couldn't help thinking as he shuffled around the Burrow. Fred would have wanted us to be happy now that Voldemort has been defeated. And Tonks and Lupin – they would have wanted us to celebrate too. Instead, we're all stuck here, stricken with grief. The only comfort is the fact that we only lost a few.
Harry's insides churned unhappily whenever he thought about that final battle only two days previous. After Voldemort's downfall, the students were sent home in a sort of bittersweet daze. All of their fears, finally vanquished – and fifty of their friends, suddenly gone. Harry, of course, returned to the Burrow, and so had Hermione, as she had not yet reversed the Memory Charm she herself placed on her parents. Fred's body was sent home with them, but Tonks's and Lupin's were given to Andromeda Tonks for burial. Harry and the others planned on attending their funeral, of course. Little Teddy Lupin had also been placed in Andromeda's care, Andromeda being Teddy's grandmother and last surviving family member.
Harry shook himself out of his reverie and concentrated on the task at hand: de-gnoming the garden for the umpteenth time. It wasn't unpleasant work, and it helped to take his mind off of things. At least when he was busy, he didn't have to dwell on the sorrow. It was when there was nothing to be done that the grief threatened to overwhelm him.
Footsteps interrupted Harry in the midst of swinging a gnome over his head. Harry looked up. "Hullo, Ron," he said with a half-grin at the sight of his best friend.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said, stooping to pick up a gnome. "Thought I'd help."
"You don't have to-" Harry broke off at the sudden sensation of gnome-teeth on his finger. Scowling, he gave the gnome an extra-hard flick and watched it soar out of sight.
Ron chuckled, his eyes following its flight path. "I wanted to help," he told Harry, returning his gaze to him. "I didn't feel like staying inside alone."
"Well, the help is always appreciated," Harry said with a smile, leaning over to aid Ron in his assault on a gnome hole.
"It's weird," Ron said after a few minutes.
"What is?" Harry asked, still concentrating on the latest gnome attack.
"Everything being over," Ron replied. "I mean, I figured I'd be happy after You-Know-Who was dead and all…I thought I'd be happy at not having to hunt down any more stupid Horcruxes – and I am happy, of course, but …it almost seems like an insult to him to feel anything at all except grief."
"Ron, Fred would have wanted us all to be happy," Harry said, placing a hand on his best mate's shoulder. "He died battling evil and making a joke – what more could he have wanted?"
Ron shrugged off Harry's hand. "I know, I know – it's just – I don't care how he died. He did, alright? That's what matters." His voice broke and he turned, walking back into the house rather quicker than usual.
Harry stared after him. These tragedies were affecting all of them. He could only hope that things would be back to normal eventually.
With this thought, Harry let his attentions turn back to the gnome attempting to climb up his pants.
Later that afternoon, Harry returned to the kitchen to find Percy, Charlie, Hermione, and Ron sitting around the table looking grim. Ron's arm was around Hermione's shoulder and no one was talking. All four looked up at Harry's arrival.
"How'd the de-gnoming go?" Hermione asked, attempting normal conversation.
"Fine," Harry replied briskly. "Where's everyone else?"
"Dad's in the living room with Mum, planning for the – for the funeral," Percy said, "Bill's gone back to Shell Cottage for a bit, and Ginny and George are both in their rooms."
"He's taking it the worst, you know, George," Charlie added. "He hasn't talked since we got home."
"Yeah, I noticed," Harry said, moving to the stairs. Even at mealtimes, George poked at his food in unusual silence, not saying much, nor eating much, either.
"Where're you off to?" Ron asked swiftly.
"I'm going to go talk to Ginny," he replied.
"Oh. Alright," Ron said. "I just …wouldn't attempt talking to George."
"Well, why not?" Harry demanded.
"Last time one of us tried going in there, we got the door slammed in our face," Charlie put in.
Harry was rather taken aback at this un-Georgeish behavior, but realized sadly that he, Harry, wouldn't act much differently if he had lost someone so close to him. Fred's death affected Harry greatly and the Weasley family even more; he supposed George was the one closest to Fred, so this behavior was only natural. "Well, I need to go talk to Ginny," Harry stated, and started up the stairs.
Coming to a door plastered with Quidditch signs and Weird Sisters posters, Harry hesitated, listening. No sound was coming from inside the room. Softly, he knocked twice and pushed the door open.
What welcomed him was an unhappy sight: Ginny's normally well-combed red hair was unkempt and frizzy, and her eyes were nearly a shade to match. She was sprawled on one of the beds, gazing at the ceiling. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off, making her room quite dark. She raised her head to see who had disturbed her silence.
"Oh, it's you," Ginny grunted, and lay her head back down on the pillow.
"Hey," Harry said delicately. He moved to sit on the bed upon which Ginny was spread out. She moved her legs aside but said nothing.
"I just wanted to talk to you," Harry said to Ginny in the same soft tone.
"Nice of you," Ginny muttered.
There was a long silence. "I …how are you feeling?
"Fine," Ginny said rather coldly, turning away from him.
Harry was rather startled at her iciness. "I, er-" he continued lamely, and then stopped himself. Sighing, he slid off of the bed and knelt on the floor. "I know these are tough times for all of us," he said, "and I wanted to let you know that I'll be here for you if you need me."
Silence still from Ginny's end, though she shifted slightly.
"Ginny, if you don't want to talk, I can understand," Harry said softly. "But I will be waiting if you feel like discussing anything."
Finally, Ginny rolled over to face Harry. Her eyes were still puffy and red, though dry. Harry smiled at her, but before he could say anything she had taken his head in her hands and kissed him on the lips.
The door creaked open. Harry pulled away from Ginny to see her gazing up at someone; turning, he realized George Weasley was glaring at him from the doorway, looking not-at-all Georgelike with red eyes and a frown on his face.
George, saying nothing (the Weasleys were a fan of silence at this point), walked across the room and sank into a chair. There was a tense silence.
"Erm…George…I know you must be feeling - er - awful," Harry attempted, but soon gave up and consented to sit awkwardly on the floor at the head of Ginny's bed, not really knowing what to do. If possible, he'd've liked to stay here with Ginny – but George seemed to be staying where he was.
Another long, awkward silence. Then -
"Nobody knew him like I knew him!" George burst, leaping up from his chair. "He wasn't just a brother to me – he was my twin! He was my best friend!" He strode over to Harry, who stood up at once. "He was my soulmate," George said in Harry's face, softer this time. "My soulmate!" he yelled, turning from Harry and kicking a chair. "And now he's gone! D'you think I want to hear that 'you know how we feel?' Nobody can know how I feel! I feel – I feel like -" He crumpled into the chair once again. "I feel like crap," he finished in a small voice.
Ginny sat up. During George's rant she had lain quietly and wide-eyed, but now she swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over to her brother, laying a hand on his shoulder but saying nothing. She looked up at Harry apologetically.
"I – I'll just go, then," Harry mumbled, hurrying out the door and back down into the kitchen.
When he entered the kitchen once more, only Hermione was left sitting at the table. "Where'd the others go?" Harry asked as he pulled out a chair and plopped down in it heavily.
"They went out in the yard;" she said, gesturing toward the door, "playing Quidditch. It was Charlie's idea," she added, as if this cleared something up.
"Ah." Harry pushed his chair back from the table and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Hermione demanded.
Harry looked innocent. "To play Quidditch," he answered, flummoxed.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Well, alright then. I can't play, of course. I'm terrified of flying. But would that stop them? Of course not." She sat there looking huffy until Harry finally said, "Well – you could come watch."
Hermione sighed. "No, I think I'll go talk to Ginny," she said, standing up as well.
"Oh, er, George is in her room now-"
"Oh, so that's why you came down so quickly?" She had a knowing look in her eye. "Well, Harry James, not everyone is as insensitive as you," and with that she was up the stairs.
"I will honestly never, ever understand women," Harry muttered, and pushed the door open.
Outside, the clouds still shadowed the sky, but the sun was starting to peek through near the horizon, casting an orange glow on everything. Harry joined Charlie, Ron, and Percy (who was dreadful) in their Quidditch game, then retired with them to the shade of a tree.
The four discussed the game for a while, mostly making fun of Percy's flying skills. It was nice, Harry thought, to have something to talk about apart from what had happened. Eventually Charlie and Percy got up to go inside. The sun was left to set on Harry and Ron sprawled out on the grass, discussing the teams likely to be in the Quidditch World Cup.
"It's really odd, you know," Harry said after they had decided on Bulgaria and France.
"What is?" Ron asked, idly playing with a leaf on the grass.
"That the world kept going."
Ron sat up and looked at his best mate. "What do you mean?"
"Things are going on. Everyone's living their lives. I mean, after Voldemort's death – Ron, he's dead! You don't have to keep flinching!"
Ron looked ashamed. "You're right. It's just habit, I guess."
Harry sighed. "Anyway…it just seems odd that life keeps going. Maybe it's different for me, since I was …so involved in the whole thing."
"No, I understand what you mean," Ron said. "Nothing will ever be the same around here…but there are people going back to normal lives. It's…just weird."
"Yeah."
The two sat in the peace of evening for some time, in that comfortable silence that only best friends can share. Soon, the door of the Burrow opened and two girls walked over to them.
Hermione and Ginny sat down on the grass, Hermione on Ron's side, Ginny by Harry. "I decided to come out of my room," Ginny stated.
"I noticed," Harry said, shooting an appreciative smile at Hermione.
"Hermione convinced me that it was better to be with people in times like this," Ginny continued, "especially you three."
Harry put an arm across her shoulders. "I would have been dead long ago if I hadn't had all of you behind me."
"Alright, enough sappy stuff," Ron said quickly. Hermione hit him on the shoulder.
"Ron!" she scolded. "Can't you see he's appreciating us? Do you have to act like a total prat?"
"It's fine, Hermione," Harry said, chuckling a bit. "Ron being normal is exactly what I need."
This earned Harry a glare from Ron and a laugh from everyone else.
"Look, Harry," Ginny started once the laughter had died down. "I'm sorry for this afternoon. I've not been acting myself lately, and neither has George-"
"That's for sure," interrupted Ron.
"-so outbursts like that are going to happen," Ginny finished.
"Wait, what happened?" Ron asked, looking curious.
Ginny sighed and Harry said, "George got a little heated at me earlier," not feeling like fully explaining.
"He did?" Ron looked incredulous. "The only person I've ever seen George seriously ticked at was Malfoy. What did you do?"
"George walked in on Harry and me-"
"-talking," Harry finished swiftly.
Ginny gave him a look, but went on. "I guess things have just gotten to him."
"Who haven't things gotten to?" Ron retorted, then took to gazing blankly at the sunset.
Harry silently agreed. He had expressed this sentiment quite often in his own mind. What had happened to the Weasley family he knew? Never when he had been here had the mood been so morose, not even during the height of Voldemort's reign of terror.
Eventually Hermione stood up, dragging Ron to his feet as well. "We should probably go inside," she said softly, as though not only everyone present but the air itself threatened to burst into tears.
"Yeah. Yeah, we should," Ron said, still blank.
"We'll be inside in a minute," Ginny said, grabbing Harry's arm gently as she made to get up. Ron and Hermione walked into the house as Harry sat back down on the grass, looking confused.
"I wanted to give you the chance to talk to me one-on-one under less dramatic circumstances," she explained when the other two were safely in the door.
Harry nodded his thanks.
"Was there anything else you wanted to say to me earlier?" Ginny asked, tucking her hair behind her ear innocently.
Harry ignored Ginny's question and instead asked her one. "Why did you kiss me this afternoon?"
"Because I had hoped it would make me feel better, forgetting everything else and getting lost in you," she replied unashamedly. "You've always had that effect on me before."
"And did it work?" Harry asked, feeling a blush rising in his cheek.
"Better than not kissing you at all."
Harry sat awkwardly for a few moments, amazed at how rapidly and still eloquently Ginny could come up with answers. This, he realized, was one of the many reasons he loved her.
"What I had somewhat intended to say," Harry started, looking into Ginny's brown eyes, "was a question. I mean, I meant to ask you one. I mean-" Harry broke off as Ginny interrupted him.
"You've never had a brilliant way with words, Harry, you know that, right?" She laughed pleasantly.
Harry grinned at this and found the words to go on. "Ginny – now that everything's over – do you still want to be with me, after all this?"
Ginny cocked an eyebrow. "Is that it?" Harry looked scared. She laughed. "You dolt – of course I do! Did you think I would forget about you?"
"I was afraid you'd find someone else," Harry said softly.
Ginny leaned on his shoulder. "I never would," she replied. "You know that." And at that she placed a kiss on his cheek.
Harry, feeling like one thing about the Weasley family was back to normal, put an arm around her and watched the night come alive.