She tossed and turned in her bed, groans of discomfort rising from her throat. Her sheets lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed, pushed off her body by rapidly churning feet. Strands of dark red hair were splayed across the pillow from where she had whipped her head back and forth. Finally, she admitted defeat and sat up in her bed. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, she tried to calm her racing heart.
A single shaft of moonlight shone through the window across the room, illuminating her with her knees drawn tight against her chest. A sigh rushed past her lips as she glanced out the window to the darkness beyond.
Ginny licked her dry lips and tried to shake off the sluggishness from the sleepless night. Once again, dreams had plagued her all night—dreams about the battle. She kept seeing her friends and classmates being flung against the walls by rampaging trolls or dropping lifelessly to the floor after a flash of green light. How many had died that night? She did not even know anymore; too many, for sure.
The sound of her door easing open smashed through her wall of memories and brought her back to the present. "Who's there?" she called out sharply, her hand reaching for her wand on the nightstand next to her bed. After the War, she had become paranoid about being attacked again and as a result, she always kept her wand close by her side. Even though Voldemort was dead, many of his followers remained at large.
"It's just me," Hermione's soft voice answered. Ginny smiled in the darkness and jumped up out of bed to let her in. The other girl was the sister Ginny never had, and she always knew just what to say to lighten Ginny's spirits. Right now, the young woman definitely needed Hermione's comforting words.
Hermione took one look at Ginny's face and knew another nightmare had disrupted her sleep. She walked over to the younger girl and wrapped her arms around her. Hermione smoothed Ginny's hair down with her hand, the way Molly always would.
"It's alright now. It's over. They can't hurt anyone else," she whispered into Ginny's ear comfortingly. Ginny finally released all her pent-up emotions and cried on Hermione's shoulder, sobs racking her body as she wept for all she had lost.
"I miss him so much, though. I want my brother back!"
"I know. I know," Hermione murmured soothingly, rubbing small circles on Ginny's back. "Come on. Let's get you some warm milk to drink. That'll make you feel better." Ginny nodded and hastily wiped away her tears.
Weasleys don't cry, she reminded herself. Weasleys are strong, no matter what. Slowly but surely, her shoulders lifted and her eyes gazed at her surroundings more alertly. Hermione gave her an approving nod before opening the door and motioning for Ginny to go first.
The two teenagers slowly shuffled down the hall to the kitchen. Turning the light on, Hermione guided Ginny to a chair and started bustling around the room in search of a clean cup.
Molly Weasley had taken to a crazed cleaning frenzy after her son's death, and the house now gleamed brighter than ever before. However, even her furious cleaning could not keep up with the onslaught of visitors that came by to offer their condolences and discuss some new measures that could be taken to improve the newly reformed Ministry of Magic.
Kingesly Shacklebolt had been elected the new Minister just three weeks ago and had a grand plan in mind that would completely change the way the Ministry worked. Every now and then, he would visit the Burrow and talk with Arthur late into the night, huddled up in the study with one or two trusted colleagues.
"Here we go. Nothing helps late night insomnia better than a glass of hot milk," Hermione said with a sympathetic smile as she set the cup in front of Ginny. Sending her a grateful look, the younger girl wrapped her hands around it and took a tentative sip. Get yourself together, she commanded herself. Spine straightening, she licked her lips and took another drink.
With a sigh, Hermione slumped down in the other chair, her own mug of milk in her hands. Together, they drank their milk in silence.
A few seconds later, Ron stumbled into the kitchen, his blue eyes bloodshot and bleary. The tips of his red hair stuck out everywhere, testifying to his own restless night. Without saying a word, he got a glass out and filled it with some of the leftover milk before sitting down beside the two girls.
"So, what're you two going to do?" he asked abruptly. Hermione glanced at Ginny hesitantly, biting her bottom lip in apprehension.
Three days ago, letters had come by owl from Hogwarts, inviting Ron, Ginny, and Hermione back to school to repeat the previous year. McGonagall had nominated Ron for Perfect status again, while Hermione received the Head Girl badge.
Of course, the news had not gone over well with everyone. Ginny had immediately slammed the letter down on the table and stalked out of the room with a hard look on her face. Hermione later saw her racing around the backyard on one of her brothers' old brooms, practicing some daring Quidditch maneuvers. It was as if she thought that if she only flew fast enough and hard enough, that all her troubles would be left behind in a cloud of dust.
"Well, I think that I'd like to learn how to become an Animagus," Hermione answered with a weak smile. Transforming oneself was only taught to seventh year students in Advanced Transfiguration. It was her way of gently saying that she wanted to return to Hogwarts.
She did not mention that she also wanted to know how it felt to be the Head Girl of Gryffindor. Under the circumstances, she felt it would not be very discreet of her to let them think she just wanted to go back to school so she could be in charge. A few years ago, that might have been true, but after experiencing all that she had at the side of Harry and Ron, she knew that her friends mattered more. However, her innate love for learning could not be curbed even by the horror of the War.
Ron snorted into his cup with a scowl. "I'm not going back," he stated flatly, his expression hard as he stared down at the table. It did not matter to him that he had received a Perfect's badge. He refused to go back to the place where he had watched his brother and so many others died.
Ginny stared off into the distance, her brown eyes focusing on something the others could not see.
After the War ended, her brothers had tried to rally with her, but sometimes she seemed to go back in time, her thoughts not with them. Her parents were the most concerned for their daughter, but they could do nothing to help her. This was something she would have to work through on her own. It nearly crushed Molly and Arthur to see Ginny so quiet and withdrawn, but they knew that she would pull through it on her own time. She was strong; she would make it, in time.
With a sigh, Hermione stood up and dumped her empty mug in the sink. "Goodnight Ginny, Ron," she whispered before padding back to her room. Ron watched her leave, a crease marring his forehead. "I love her you know," he commented thoughtfully, almost to himself.
Ginny's eyes flew to her brother in shock. "What?"
"I love her," he repeated matter-of-factly. "I think I always have; I just never knew it back then. It's funny, you know? I go from thinking she's a bossy, know-it-all nightmare to seeing her as the center of the world. Every time she walks in the room, my eyes are drawn to her. I think about her all the time, even when I don't want to. Someday I'm going to gather my courage and ask her to marry me."
Ginny stared at him with wide eyes. She had just lost one brother, and now she was facing the very real possibility of loosing another. Nevertheless, she could not force him to stay with her. He had his own life to live, and she had hers. It would not be fair for her to hold him back from the one person who made him happy.
Besides, he was better off with Hermione. They completed each other, brought balance to the other's life; it was as if they were truly made for each other; soul mates, they were. It was a beautiful thing to see, but also a very painful one. Not everyone had the fortune to experience such love and dedication from another person. Therefore, it was with a bittersweet sigh that the next words sprang forth from her mouth.
"She loves you too. She told me years ago," Ginny admitted softly, forcing a smile on her face. Ron chuckled, his hands tightening around his cup. "Yeah. I'm always the last the find things out, I guess."
Any thoughts or suggestions for improvement are most welcome! Thanks for reading ;)