A young woman sat in her closet, sneezing from the dust. There were
papers spread across the floor, and she had just uncovered a heavy box from
within the depths of the closet when huge balls of dust escaped into the
air around her nose. She could see the lot of it; sunlight poured in
through the window next to her and the tiny particles were visible through
the rays. Her nose had turned red and puffy from sneezing and blowing it
into a tissue, and when slightly recovered, she returned to her process of
sorting through the papers galore.
To her right sat the box. She was nervous to open it, for fear of what lay inside. So far, she had found pictures of her family and old pieces of parchment from school. But she hadn't found any pictures, or letters from. him. Finding the strength she needed, Ginny opened the box.
On top lay a single piece of blank parchment. A sigh of relief escaped her before realization told her there was sure to be much more to the box. She lifted the parchment, and she gasped.
Beneath it laid a picture of the last day of her brother's seventh year. Standing waving at her were Ron and Hermione, arms wrapped around each other, and Harry, who was standing off to the side. He was making disgusted faces at the two, but then held a hand to the side of his face to hide his mouth from them. He blew a kiss.
She couldn't bear it. She slammed the lid on the box, the spare parchment forgotten, and shoved it back into the closet. Her anger let loose for several more seconds before the tears came. Trying to hide them wouldn't make them go away, she thought. But she wasn't ready. Wiping her face, she stood up and walked out of the room. Then she heard squealing coming from outside, and she ran down the rest of the stairs. "Ivy? Are you all right?" The squealing continued. Ginny ran out of the house and across a field of wild flowers to where the squeals were coming from. The small girl was sitting under a giant tree, playing with a doll and laughing hysterically. "Ivy! What on earth are you doing out here?"
The girl looked up at her mother. "Mummy! James just told a very funny joke!"
"James?" Ginny asked nervously, "Who is James, dear?" The girl shook her head in disappointment. "Mummy, James is my best friend! He's right here! He's really funny, and he plays jokes all the time. He is so funny!" Ginny smiled weakly. "Well, why don't you and James come inside for some lemonade, mm?" Ivy nodded eagerly, "Oh yes, lemonade is James' favorite."
Ginny thought about her daughter's imaginary friend as she led her back towards the house. How could she know? She had never told her about her grandfather, and she had certainly never met him. But the way she had talked about him... It seemed as though her daughter was making friends with a ghost... but there was no James Potter ghost! Suddenly realizing they were at the door as Ivy tugged on her mother's shirt, Ginny opened the door and walked with her into the kitchen.
After pouring two glasses of lemonade, she set them on the table for Ivy and James and sat down next to her daughter. Then the girl shrieked with horror. "Mummy! You're sitting on James!" Ginny leapt up with surprise and sighed, "Oh Ivy, er... sorry James," she stammered awkwardly. She then took a new seat across from her daughter and the imaginary person. Ivy sipped her lemonade and stared at her mother thoughtfully and knowingly. "Mummy, have you been crying again?" Ginny looked at her with disbelief; her own daughter was questioning her competence to deal with things only adults could possibly deal with. "No, dear, there was just a bit of dust in the closet Mummy was cleaning out." Not taking this in, Ivy replied, "It's OK to cry, Mummy. That's what you tell me when I'm sad." When Ginny didn't say anything, she continued, "Did you find another picture of Daddy?"
Ginny looked into her daughter's eyes, and knew she wasn't going to win this one, so she sighed. "Yes dear, I did." To her surprise, Ivy laughed. "James says people dwell on things too much. They need to have fun while they can." Ginny thought she would scream. How could she know?! "Well, I will say James is right, Ive, but sometimes its very hard for grown-ups to forget the people they loved... like Daddy." Though she fought hard to blink it back, a tear escaped her eye once more. Ivy was still smiling. "Mummy, I think you need some lemonade too." The small girl slid off her seat, wiped her flaming red hair (that was so identical to her mother's) out of her face and she opened the refrigerator. She lifted the pitcher with difficulty off its shelf and placed it on the table. Then she ran to the cupboard and grasped for the nearest cup. Again she ran, bringing the cup to the table, then struggled to pour the liquid while spilling some on the table. She pushed it over to her mother, and slightly out of breath she said, "Now drink up and you'll feel much better." Ginny smiled at her daughter's remarkable independence, then laughed at the girl's imitation of her grandmother. "All right, sweets," Ginny said, and with small drops of water streaming down her face, she sipped the glass. "Mm, thank you. I feel a lot better."
Not convinced, the girl said, "Mummy? I think you should know something." Ginny started. "Know what?"
"Well... you should know that Daddy still loves you even though he's not here." Ivy bit her lip, not unlike the way her mother did sometimes. Larger tears streamed down Ginny's face. "Oh, sweetheart, I -" But Ivy wasn't finished. "I'm not lying, Mummy. I know he does. James told me that when people go away, they still love the people they left behind." This time Ginny did scream. "How do you know about James?" she demanded of the child. Ivy shrugged, "Well one day, I was walking by the Old Lot, and he said 'Hello' and he introduced himself nice and proper so I thought even though he was a stranger I could still - "
"The Old Lot?" Ginny interrupted. "You met him - by the Old Lot?"
"Yes Mummy, that's what I said. Anyway..."
But Ginny didn't listen to the rest of her daughter's story. The Old Lot. This whole James thing was getting to scare her.
The Old Lot had been empty in Godric's Hollow since the night the Dark Lord had blown the house that once stood there to smithereens. After the Ministry had cleaned it up, not many people went to visit it because of the sadness the air held around the Lot. Though, after their marriage, the Potters decided to move into the area upon Harry's insistence.
"Mummy, have you been listening at all?" Ginny returned to reality and made to apologize, but the girl didn't give her chance. "Mummy, I think we need to visit the Burrow so you can talk to Grammy Weasley and cry a lot and a lot and we all will feel better." Ginny sighed while wiping her face with her sleeve. "Yes, I suppose that could be arranged. But, mind you, you might get bored at the Burrow. There's not much to do there." Ivy shook her wild hair and giggled, "Mummy, not if James can come!"
*
Ginny turned the keys in the ignition and the car came to life. Ivy was behind her, singing an unknown song and kicking the backs of her legs against the seat. Ginny looked at her through the rear-view mirror, and smiled as she backed out of the driveway. So much her daughter reminded her of him, with her brilliant green eyes and the knowledge that shone through them. It was like looking at old photos of her mother-in-law that she had never met.
After about an hour the car was driving up to the old Burrow. Ivy, noticing this, squealed with delight. "Oh, Mummy, hurry up! I can't wait to see Papa Weasley!" Ginny looked up at the house, and, involuntarily, reminiscences came swarming back to her. Her summers as a child, running wild and free through the wildflowers and climbing trees with her older brothers, playing Quidditch with them when she was old enough. Another tear escaped her eye.
That was the thing about being a woman. They always had to be so emotional when walking down memory lane.
Some memories were good ones, and she appreciated remembering the times her twin brother's had bewitched Percy's badge to say 'Pinhead' instead of 'Prefect'. These memories that made her laugh were a lot welcomer than those that made her cry. A particular one of the latter fought into her mind.
They were playing Quidditch one summer; it was her, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, Bill, Charlie... and Harry. Charlie had brought along a set of Quidditch balls, and hadn't told Mum about it, knowing she wouldn't approve. So they played a pretty normal game of Quidditch, excepting the fact that both teams were three players short of a full lineup. Everything was going good, and no one was hurt. But then she didn't see the Bludger coming. It had knocked the wind out of her, and also off her broom. As she fell, she heard screams and strangled yells of horror. Then there was a swooshing noise telling her someone was pulling a huge dive to try and catch her. Ten feet from the ground, she fell into the arms of her rescuer. Nearly unconscious, she looked up wearily, saw the brilliant eyes, smiled, kissed him in her delirium, and fainted.
Recalling the time when she had awoken, she cringed as she pulled the parking brake. She had been so embarrassed when her brothers had informed, or rather taunted her, about the kiss. Harry had seemed mortified, but whenever he caught her eye, he would smile...
No. She can't think about him. She had a small child in the car. She got out of her seat and pulled open the door behind her. Ivy practically jumped out of the car seat. When she was free of her mother's grasp, she ran up to the house and went inside. Surprised yells told her that Mum was right inside the kitchen. Sighing, Ginny trudged up to the house, wondering what her mother would think of the unexpected, mid afternoon visit.
As she walked into the kitchen, she smelled the smell of the Burrow. So welcoming it was... how she loved the smell of fresh baked cookies... then pleasant memories of nine at the table..... This, she thought, was home. Even without all of the children running around. Then her mother's voice distracted her. "Ginny, dear? Are you feeling all right?" Ginny shook herself out of memory lane, and shook her head. "No, mum, just thought we'd visit. Ive, why don't you go find Papa Weasley, he should be...?"
"Out in the shed," Mrs. Weasley finished. "Still as fascinated with Muggles as ever," she sighed, though she looked proud. "Go on dear, the back door's open." She patted the little girl's back as she ran past them, and turned back to Ginny. "Are... are you sure everything's all right?" Ginny sighed as she sat down, her mother doing the same. "Well, I was cleaning out the closet this morning and..." She broke down. "Oh Mum, I found another picture!" She leaned over and hid her face in her hands. Mum scooted her chair closer and patted her daughter's back. "Oh Ginny, you need to accept it by now. You have Ivy to worry about now, you can't be dwelling -" "On the past, " she finished, "I know. That's what James said." Mum gasped. "James? James who?" Ginny realized what had come tumbling out of her mouth, and she laughed uneasily. "Oh, er, Ivy's imaginary friend. I just met him this afternoon."
"You met him?" Mum whispered. "Ginny, surely you don't believe...?"
"I do, Mum. The way she describes him, he sounds just like..." She hesitated. "Like... Harry's father." Mum clutched her chest with her right hand and ran the fingers of her left through her graying red hair. "Oh!" Mum exclaimed. "But... but could you see him?"
"No, he's imaginary. But I swear, Mum, he's just like James Potter." Mum bit her lip the Weasley Woman Way, and concentrated hard for several moments. Then she started slowly, "Maybe it's a memory." Ginny's face expressed confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Mum paused. "I'm not sure if I'm guessing correctly, but I would say a memory escaped from someone else, and found it's way into Ivy's memories." Ginny now looked horrified. She hadn't exactly had luck with memories in the past, her own or those of others. "Someone... else's... memory?"
"I don't know how it could happen, but it seems quite possible. I never studied much in that area, of Memories, but they seem quite mysterious to me. Of our early childhood, we don't remember much. But what happens to them? Do they just leave your memory, or do they linger back in a corner of your mind, waiting for you to call on them? That's my only guess as to how she would remember James, even though he's been dead for 20 years." Mum's expression became grave. "Is all this what you came to talk about?"
Ginny shrugged. "Well, I started crying even more when Ivy asked if I had been crying earlier. It sort of gets to you when your own children recognize when you're feeling something you don't want them to notice." Ginny smiled uneasily again. "But she said we should come here and, 'make it all better'" She laughed, and then frowned. "I have been missing him a lot lately."
"Oh, dear, you can't blame yourself, it's really - Wait a second, what am I doing? I should make some tea!" Mum leapt up off her seat and hurriedly busied herself with boiling the water. Thankfully, this gave Ginny time to think. She hadn't really thought it was her fault, she just thought she could have prevented what happened...
*
"Harry, you just have to let it go."
"No, I won't!"
"I can't believe you are taking something like this so seriously... You killed his father, Harry! And his father was a Death Eater!"
"I know, I know. But Malfoy threatened my family, and he's not going to get away with anything anymore. After Lupin..." Harry's face paled at the thought of the old professor. Instead, he looked at the walls around him. "We'll have to put protection charms on the house." He began to examine the walls, in thought of how to go about doing the charm. Ginny sighed. "Really, Harry, you shouldn't take him seriously. He's only trying to scare you and get you to do something rash!"
"And I'm not doing either, now am I?"
"Oh Harry, I know you will! You don't take these sorts of things lightly! You really shouldn't have chosen my brother as your friend, he's a really bad influence with the violent measures he takes."
"If I were never friends with Ron, " Harry said quietly, "Then I wouldn't have met you." Ginny blushed. "Of course you would have, I'm sure-" He silenced her, with his lips. Then he backed away again, looked at her confused face, and said, "Not like that."
*
Ginny let even larger tears roll down her very rosy cheeks. He was never a romantic, but certainly a good kisser...
"There you are, a nice, warm cup will make everything all better." Ginny smiled, remembering Ivy's impression earlier that day, and took a sip of the scalding hot tea. It certainly made her feel warm down her throat, but not in what her heart felt.
*
She was sitting at the kitchen table, and heard a loud crack. When she looked up and saw her father, she got worried. "What are you doing home early, Dad?" Arthur frowned, and his eyes were filled with sorrow. "Go fetch your brothers."
When she returned with Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Ron (all of whom were visiting from their homes), Ginny sat down next to her father. "What is it, Dad?"
"Yeah, Dad, you're scaring us." Ginny turned to see which twin had said it, and it was Fred. It had sounded nothing like the humorous brother she had grown to look up to, but more like a serious, nervous sounding man.
Dad sighed as a tear rolled down his cheek; Ginny had never seen her father cry. She knew everyone must cry at some point of they're adult lives, but she had never witnessed him at it.
"It's Harry." When he didn't continue, Ron shouted, "What about him? Well?!" Dad shook his head. "He's been... he's gone missing...Malfoy-." He stuttered and let out a small, barely noticeable sob, then held his face in his hand.
Everyone in the room was silent. It was surreal. All of time had stopped in Ginny's world; guilt swarmed at her like thousands of bees being aroused out of their hive. He had been telling the truth, and she had left him. She just left him. He was acting crazy, and it frightened her, and she left. It had been a stupid argument, and she could barely remember what about. And it didn't even matter. There was no need to go over in her mind of what she would say when he came begging for her to come back, for she would never have the chance to see him again. Ever. He was gone, she knew it; after all he had given to the world. Joy. Happiness. Relief. A hero.
*
"Ginny, you're really out of it today. Have you heard a thing I've been saying?"
She awoke from her daze and found herself drenched in tears. Mum sighed and patted her on the back. "There, there, better out than keeping it held in."
"Sorry, Mum. I was just thinking."
"About what, dear?"
"Things." Mum smiled weakly. "That's always a good sign." She looked at the Weasley clock. "Ivy will be coming up the lawn. She'll probably want something to drink." She stood and busied herself once again with fixing drinks.
Sure enough, in a minute's time, Ivy came hurling into the house and into her mother's lap. "Are you feeling better, Mummy?" Ginny laughed. "Yes, dear." Ivy giggled, "Good, because James said when we get home he wants to speak with you." Ginny glanced to her right to see Mum looking nervously at the child. Then Dad came in the back door. By the looks of it, he had been running up with the small girl, but had become winded half way up. "That girl's got a lot of energy, Gin" he laughed, "Must get it from you. You were always the one to be running about." Ginny smiled, "Well, her father was quite the ball of energy when it came to Quidditch, don't you remember?" Her lip trembled as she said this, but she was determined not to cry in front of Ivy. Dad sighed, "Yes, that he was, that he was..." He faded off, then looked round at Mum. "That lemonade looks good, Molly!"
When the runners had been refreshed, Ivy bid her grandparents goodbye, and ran out to the car. Ginny raced a bit of the way, but lagged behind to talk to Mum. "Er, thanks Mum, for... talking with me." She smiled awkwardly as she said this, as they had barely talked but shared tears. Mum smiled nonetheless. "Anything, dear. If you ever need to talk, Dad's got a fellytone-"
"Telephone, Mum." Ginny shook her head. "Honestly, Hermione would correct Ron every time, and here you are making the same mistake." Mum shook her head as though it made no difference as to what the Muggle object was called. "Well, at any rate, he's got one and would probably be overjoyed if you called him on it. Though I still prefer the owl way..." They hugged and parted with a wave of hands, and then Ginny walked to the car.
"What took you, Mummy?"
"Just saying goodbye to Grammy, dear."
"Oh 'cos James says he really, really wants to talk to you." Ginny laughed nervously, "Alright dear, alright"
The car ride was fairly quiet; Ivy had fallen asleep nearly ten minutes into it. When they pulled into their driveway, she parked the car, and climbed out to wake Ivy. The girl's doll had fallen out as she opened the door, so she picked it up and put it safely back into the girl's arms. Then Ginny felt a presence of some sort. It was quite odd, and she was beginning to feel very crazy. Harry, she thought. That's what it feels like. She laughed at herself. Of course it wasn't Harry. No one had seen him for six years, after all. But it was as though he was there, and she couldn't help thinking that he was.
"C'mon, sweetheart, we're home."
"WHERE'S MY DOLL?!" Ivy screeched as she awoke. Relief crossed her rosy cheeks as she noticed the doll in her arms. "Oh, right here." Ginny still looked highly frightened. "Why did you scream like that, Ivy?"
"Well, when I thought I was not holding it anymore, I got scared and thought I had lost it." Ginny thought about the doll and examined it. "Ive, where did you get that doll?" The doll looked quite dirty, and patches of hair were missing. The age of the doll she could only guess was very old. "I already told you, Mummy, at the Old Lot!"
**TBC**
To her right sat the box. She was nervous to open it, for fear of what lay inside. So far, she had found pictures of her family and old pieces of parchment from school. But she hadn't found any pictures, or letters from. him. Finding the strength she needed, Ginny opened the box.
On top lay a single piece of blank parchment. A sigh of relief escaped her before realization told her there was sure to be much more to the box. She lifted the parchment, and she gasped.
Beneath it laid a picture of the last day of her brother's seventh year. Standing waving at her were Ron and Hermione, arms wrapped around each other, and Harry, who was standing off to the side. He was making disgusted faces at the two, but then held a hand to the side of his face to hide his mouth from them. He blew a kiss.
She couldn't bear it. She slammed the lid on the box, the spare parchment forgotten, and shoved it back into the closet. Her anger let loose for several more seconds before the tears came. Trying to hide them wouldn't make them go away, she thought. But she wasn't ready. Wiping her face, she stood up and walked out of the room. Then she heard squealing coming from outside, and she ran down the rest of the stairs. "Ivy? Are you all right?" The squealing continued. Ginny ran out of the house and across a field of wild flowers to where the squeals were coming from. The small girl was sitting under a giant tree, playing with a doll and laughing hysterically. "Ivy! What on earth are you doing out here?"
The girl looked up at her mother. "Mummy! James just told a very funny joke!"
"James?" Ginny asked nervously, "Who is James, dear?" The girl shook her head in disappointment. "Mummy, James is my best friend! He's right here! He's really funny, and he plays jokes all the time. He is so funny!" Ginny smiled weakly. "Well, why don't you and James come inside for some lemonade, mm?" Ivy nodded eagerly, "Oh yes, lemonade is James' favorite."
Ginny thought about her daughter's imaginary friend as she led her back towards the house. How could she know? She had never told her about her grandfather, and she had certainly never met him. But the way she had talked about him... It seemed as though her daughter was making friends with a ghost... but there was no James Potter ghost! Suddenly realizing they were at the door as Ivy tugged on her mother's shirt, Ginny opened the door and walked with her into the kitchen.
After pouring two glasses of lemonade, she set them on the table for Ivy and James and sat down next to her daughter. Then the girl shrieked with horror. "Mummy! You're sitting on James!" Ginny leapt up with surprise and sighed, "Oh Ivy, er... sorry James," she stammered awkwardly. She then took a new seat across from her daughter and the imaginary person. Ivy sipped her lemonade and stared at her mother thoughtfully and knowingly. "Mummy, have you been crying again?" Ginny looked at her with disbelief; her own daughter was questioning her competence to deal with things only adults could possibly deal with. "No, dear, there was just a bit of dust in the closet Mummy was cleaning out." Not taking this in, Ivy replied, "It's OK to cry, Mummy. That's what you tell me when I'm sad." When Ginny didn't say anything, she continued, "Did you find another picture of Daddy?"
Ginny looked into her daughter's eyes, and knew she wasn't going to win this one, so she sighed. "Yes dear, I did." To her surprise, Ivy laughed. "James says people dwell on things too much. They need to have fun while they can." Ginny thought she would scream. How could she know?! "Well, I will say James is right, Ive, but sometimes its very hard for grown-ups to forget the people they loved... like Daddy." Though she fought hard to blink it back, a tear escaped her eye once more. Ivy was still smiling. "Mummy, I think you need some lemonade too." The small girl slid off her seat, wiped her flaming red hair (that was so identical to her mother's) out of her face and she opened the refrigerator. She lifted the pitcher with difficulty off its shelf and placed it on the table. Then she ran to the cupboard and grasped for the nearest cup. Again she ran, bringing the cup to the table, then struggled to pour the liquid while spilling some on the table. She pushed it over to her mother, and slightly out of breath she said, "Now drink up and you'll feel much better." Ginny smiled at her daughter's remarkable independence, then laughed at the girl's imitation of her grandmother. "All right, sweets," Ginny said, and with small drops of water streaming down her face, she sipped the glass. "Mm, thank you. I feel a lot better."
Not convinced, the girl said, "Mummy? I think you should know something." Ginny started. "Know what?"
"Well... you should know that Daddy still loves you even though he's not here." Ivy bit her lip, not unlike the way her mother did sometimes. Larger tears streamed down Ginny's face. "Oh, sweetheart, I -" But Ivy wasn't finished. "I'm not lying, Mummy. I know he does. James told me that when people go away, they still love the people they left behind." This time Ginny did scream. "How do you know about James?" she demanded of the child. Ivy shrugged, "Well one day, I was walking by the Old Lot, and he said 'Hello' and he introduced himself nice and proper so I thought even though he was a stranger I could still - "
"The Old Lot?" Ginny interrupted. "You met him - by the Old Lot?"
"Yes Mummy, that's what I said. Anyway..."
But Ginny didn't listen to the rest of her daughter's story. The Old Lot. This whole James thing was getting to scare her.
The Old Lot had been empty in Godric's Hollow since the night the Dark Lord had blown the house that once stood there to smithereens. After the Ministry had cleaned it up, not many people went to visit it because of the sadness the air held around the Lot. Though, after their marriage, the Potters decided to move into the area upon Harry's insistence.
"Mummy, have you been listening at all?" Ginny returned to reality and made to apologize, but the girl didn't give her chance. "Mummy, I think we need to visit the Burrow so you can talk to Grammy Weasley and cry a lot and a lot and we all will feel better." Ginny sighed while wiping her face with her sleeve. "Yes, I suppose that could be arranged. But, mind you, you might get bored at the Burrow. There's not much to do there." Ivy shook her wild hair and giggled, "Mummy, not if James can come!"
*
Ginny turned the keys in the ignition and the car came to life. Ivy was behind her, singing an unknown song and kicking the backs of her legs against the seat. Ginny looked at her through the rear-view mirror, and smiled as she backed out of the driveway. So much her daughter reminded her of him, with her brilliant green eyes and the knowledge that shone through them. It was like looking at old photos of her mother-in-law that she had never met.
After about an hour the car was driving up to the old Burrow. Ivy, noticing this, squealed with delight. "Oh, Mummy, hurry up! I can't wait to see Papa Weasley!" Ginny looked up at the house, and, involuntarily, reminiscences came swarming back to her. Her summers as a child, running wild and free through the wildflowers and climbing trees with her older brothers, playing Quidditch with them when she was old enough. Another tear escaped her eye.
That was the thing about being a woman. They always had to be so emotional when walking down memory lane.
Some memories were good ones, and she appreciated remembering the times her twin brother's had bewitched Percy's badge to say 'Pinhead' instead of 'Prefect'. These memories that made her laugh were a lot welcomer than those that made her cry. A particular one of the latter fought into her mind.
They were playing Quidditch one summer; it was her, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, Bill, Charlie... and Harry. Charlie had brought along a set of Quidditch balls, and hadn't told Mum about it, knowing she wouldn't approve. So they played a pretty normal game of Quidditch, excepting the fact that both teams were three players short of a full lineup. Everything was going good, and no one was hurt. But then she didn't see the Bludger coming. It had knocked the wind out of her, and also off her broom. As she fell, she heard screams and strangled yells of horror. Then there was a swooshing noise telling her someone was pulling a huge dive to try and catch her. Ten feet from the ground, she fell into the arms of her rescuer. Nearly unconscious, she looked up wearily, saw the brilliant eyes, smiled, kissed him in her delirium, and fainted.
Recalling the time when she had awoken, she cringed as she pulled the parking brake. She had been so embarrassed when her brothers had informed, or rather taunted her, about the kiss. Harry had seemed mortified, but whenever he caught her eye, he would smile...
No. She can't think about him. She had a small child in the car. She got out of her seat and pulled open the door behind her. Ivy practically jumped out of the car seat. When she was free of her mother's grasp, she ran up to the house and went inside. Surprised yells told her that Mum was right inside the kitchen. Sighing, Ginny trudged up to the house, wondering what her mother would think of the unexpected, mid afternoon visit.
As she walked into the kitchen, she smelled the smell of the Burrow. So welcoming it was... how she loved the smell of fresh baked cookies... then pleasant memories of nine at the table..... This, she thought, was home. Even without all of the children running around. Then her mother's voice distracted her. "Ginny, dear? Are you feeling all right?" Ginny shook herself out of memory lane, and shook her head. "No, mum, just thought we'd visit. Ive, why don't you go find Papa Weasley, he should be...?"
"Out in the shed," Mrs. Weasley finished. "Still as fascinated with Muggles as ever," she sighed, though she looked proud. "Go on dear, the back door's open." She patted the little girl's back as she ran past them, and turned back to Ginny. "Are... are you sure everything's all right?" Ginny sighed as she sat down, her mother doing the same. "Well, I was cleaning out the closet this morning and..." She broke down. "Oh Mum, I found another picture!" She leaned over and hid her face in her hands. Mum scooted her chair closer and patted her daughter's back. "Oh Ginny, you need to accept it by now. You have Ivy to worry about now, you can't be dwelling -" "On the past, " she finished, "I know. That's what James said." Mum gasped. "James? James who?" Ginny realized what had come tumbling out of her mouth, and she laughed uneasily. "Oh, er, Ivy's imaginary friend. I just met him this afternoon."
"You met him?" Mum whispered. "Ginny, surely you don't believe...?"
"I do, Mum. The way she describes him, he sounds just like..." She hesitated. "Like... Harry's father." Mum clutched her chest with her right hand and ran the fingers of her left through her graying red hair. "Oh!" Mum exclaimed. "But... but could you see him?"
"No, he's imaginary. But I swear, Mum, he's just like James Potter." Mum bit her lip the Weasley Woman Way, and concentrated hard for several moments. Then she started slowly, "Maybe it's a memory." Ginny's face expressed confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Mum paused. "I'm not sure if I'm guessing correctly, but I would say a memory escaped from someone else, and found it's way into Ivy's memories." Ginny now looked horrified. She hadn't exactly had luck with memories in the past, her own or those of others. "Someone... else's... memory?"
"I don't know how it could happen, but it seems quite possible. I never studied much in that area, of Memories, but they seem quite mysterious to me. Of our early childhood, we don't remember much. But what happens to them? Do they just leave your memory, or do they linger back in a corner of your mind, waiting for you to call on them? That's my only guess as to how she would remember James, even though he's been dead for 20 years." Mum's expression became grave. "Is all this what you came to talk about?"
Ginny shrugged. "Well, I started crying even more when Ivy asked if I had been crying earlier. It sort of gets to you when your own children recognize when you're feeling something you don't want them to notice." Ginny smiled uneasily again. "But she said we should come here and, 'make it all better'" She laughed, and then frowned. "I have been missing him a lot lately."
"Oh, dear, you can't blame yourself, it's really - Wait a second, what am I doing? I should make some tea!" Mum leapt up off her seat and hurriedly busied herself with boiling the water. Thankfully, this gave Ginny time to think. She hadn't really thought it was her fault, she just thought she could have prevented what happened...
*
"Harry, you just have to let it go."
"No, I won't!"
"I can't believe you are taking something like this so seriously... You killed his father, Harry! And his father was a Death Eater!"
"I know, I know. But Malfoy threatened my family, and he's not going to get away with anything anymore. After Lupin..." Harry's face paled at the thought of the old professor. Instead, he looked at the walls around him. "We'll have to put protection charms on the house." He began to examine the walls, in thought of how to go about doing the charm. Ginny sighed. "Really, Harry, you shouldn't take him seriously. He's only trying to scare you and get you to do something rash!"
"And I'm not doing either, now am I?"
"Oh Harry, I know you will! You don't take these sorts of things lightly! You really shouldn't have chosen my brother as your friend, he's a really bad influence with the violent measures he takes."
"If I were never friends with Ron, " Harry said quietly, "Then I wouldn't have met you." Ginny blushed. "Of course you would have, I'm sure-" He silenced her, with his lips. Then he backed away again, looked at her confused face, and said, "Not like that."
*
Ginny let even larger tears roll down her very rosy cheeks. He was never a romantic, but certainly a good kisser...
"There you are, a nice, warm cup will make everything all better." Ginny smiled, remembering Ivy's impression earlier that day, and took a sip of the scalding hot tea. It certainly made her feel warm down her throat, but not in what her heart felt.
*
She was sitting at the kitchen table, and heard a loud crack. When she looked up and saw her father, she got worried. "What are you doing home early, Dad?" Arthur frowned, and his eyes were filled with sorrow. "Go fetch your brothers."
When she returned with Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Ron (all of whom were visiting from their homes), Ginny sat down next to her father. "What is it, Dad?"
"Yeah, Dad, you're scaring us." Ginny turned to see which twin had said it, and it was Fred. It had sounded nothing like the humorous brother she had grown to look up to, but more like a serious, nervous sounding man.
Dad sighed as a tear rolled down his cheek; Ginny had never seen her father cry. She knew everyone must cry at some point of they're adult lives, but she had never witnessed him at it.
"It's Harry." When he didn't continue, Ron shouted, "What about him? Well?!" Dad shook his head. "He's been... he's gone missing...Malfoy-." He stuttered and let out a small, barely noticeable sob, then held his face in his hand.
Everyone in the room was silent. It was surreal. All of time had stopped in Ginny's world; guilt swarmed at her like thousands of bees being aroused out of their hive. He had been telling the truth, and she had left him. She just left him. He was acting crazy, and it frightened her, and she left. It had been a stupid argument, and she could barely remember what about. And it didn't even matter. There was no need to go over in her mind of what she would say when he came begging for her to come back, for she would never have the chance to see him again. Ever. He was gone, she knew it; after all he had given to the world. Joy. Happiness. Relief. A hero.
*
"Ginny, you're really out of it today. Have you heard a thing I've been saying?"
She awoke from her daze and found herself drenched in tears. Mum sighed and patted her on the back. "There, there, better out than keeping it held in."
"Sorry, Mum. I was just thinking."
"About what, dear?"
"Things." Mum smiled weakly. "That's always a good sign." She looked at the Weasley clock. "Ivy will be coming up the lawn. She'll probably want something to drink." She stood and busied herself once again with fixing drinks.
Sure enough, in a minute's time, Ivy came hurling into the house and into her mother's lap. "Are you feeling better, Mummy?" Ginny laughed. "Yes, dear." Ivy giggled, "Good, because James said when we get home he wants to speak with you." Ginny glanced to her right to see Mum looking nervously at the child. Then Dad came in the back door. By the looks of it, he had been running up with the small girl, but had become winded half way up. "That girl's got a lot of energy, Gin" he laughed, "Must get it from you. You were always the one to be running about." Ginny smiled, "Well, her father was quite the ball of energy when it came to Quidditch, don't you remember?" Her lip trembled as she said this, but she was determined not to cry in front of Ivy. Dad sighed, "Yes, that he was, that he was..." He faded off, then looked round at Mum. "That lemonade looks good, Molly!"
When the runners had been refreshed, Ivy bid her grandparents goodbye, and ran out to the car. Ginny raced a bit of the way, but lagged behind to talk to Mum. "Er, thanks Mum, for... talking with me." She smiled awkwardly as she said this, as they had barely talked but shared tears. Mum smiled nonetheless. "Anything, dear. If you ever need to talk, Dad's got a fellytone-"
"Telephone, Mum." Ginny shook her head. "Honestly, Hermione would correct Ron every time, and here you are making the same mistake." Mum shook her head as though it made no difference as to what the Muggle object was called. "Well, at any rate, he's got one and would probably be overjoyed if you called him on it. Though I still prefer the owl way..." They hugged and parted with a wave of hands, and then Ginny walked to the car.
"What took you, Mummy?"
"Just saying goodbye to Grammy, dear."
"Oh 'cos James says he really, really wants to talk to you." Ginny laughed nervously, "Alright dear, alright"
The car ride was fairly quiet; Ivy had fallen asleep nearly ten minutes into it. When they pulled into their driveway, she parked the car, and climbed out to wake Ivy. The girl's doll had fallen out as she opened the door, so she picked it up and put it safely back into the girl's arms. Then Ginny felt a presence of some sort. It was quite odd, and she was beginning to feel very crazy. Harry, she thought. That's what it feels like. She laughed at herself. Of course it wasn't Harry. No one had seen him for six years, after all. But it was as though he was there, and she couldn't help thinking that he was.
"C'mon, sweetheart, we're home."
"WHERE'S MY DOLL?!" Ivy screeched as she awoke. Relief crossed her rosy cheeks as she noticed the doll in her arms. "Oh, right here." Ginny still looked highly frightened. "Why did you scream like that, Ivy?"
"Well, when I thought I was not holding it anymore, I got scared and thought I had lost it." Ginny thought about the doll and examined it. "Ive, where did you get that doll?" The doll looked quite dirty, and patches of hair were missing. The age of the doll she could only guess was very old. "I already told you, Mummy, at the Old Lot!"
**TBC**