A/N: So, this was written during a bout of writer's block. It's not my best work, by far, but I did enjoy writing it. I'd been hoping to do something like this for quite some time, but I couldn't think of the right way to do it. I think Ginny might be a bit OOC, but grief does change people so maybe not.
This story was written for prompt # 339, "a time to grieve", which I mistakingly quoted as "a time for grief". Either way, the result is the same.
Disclaimer: I own practically nothing, and certainly not the rights to Harry Potter or its characters.
There was a time for everything, of course. A time to fight, to die, and a time after, to mourn those who had done just that. Died. And it hurt most when it was someone you never thought you'd lose. Someone you never should have lost.
She'd heard once that a parent should never have to bury their child. If it was up to her, a sister wouldn't ever have to bury her brother, a girl wouldn't have to bury a friend. If it were up to her, no one would die, and especially not like this.
She dashed from the Great Hall-if it could still be called that now, with its falling walls, and its cracked ceiling-as soon as she thought she could get away without being missed. Her mother had fallen asleep next to Fred's body, and her father looked lost in thought, sadness in his eyes she'd never seen before. It scared her.
The first thing she wanted to do was run to the Gryffindor common room, hoping Harry would be there. She restrained herself. He was probably just as sad as she was, and as much as she needed to see him, she couldn't let their reunion be tainted by that.
So, she wandered the corridors, deaf to other people's sobs, not sure where they were coming from anyway. She walked until she was sure her feet could carry her no longer, and then she collapsed, not knowing where she was or how long she would be sitting there. It didn't matter. She couldn't move now, not for a long time, lost in her grief.
Sitting on the ground was numbing and almost painful, but she didn't know where to go. And at least here, all alone in the middle of a corridor, she could cry without worrying about anyone else. She didn't have to make people think she was strong.
She didn't know how long she sat there, maybe hours. Eventually, she started to feel tired, but the tears didn't stop coming. And then, someone's arms were around her. She couldn't tell who, young or old, male or female. She just knew it was a comforting presence, and that whoever was holding her let her cry without saying a word.
She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but she must have, because she woke up in her bed in Gryffindor tower early the next morning. She stood up, feeling refreshed, although still sad, but that was to be expected. She slowly walked down the stairs and into the common room, expecting to see lots of people. She was surprised and relieved to find that there were only three. Her brother and Hermione seemed to have curled up next to the fire the night before, and were now holding each other tightly in their sleep. Harry, on the other hand, was just sitting in an armchair, staring into space.
He looked up as she approached him, and gave her a small smile. She tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come out. That was okay, though. Now wasn't a time for words. It was a time for grief. But as she kissed him for the first time in almost a year, she realized that it was also the time for joy.
A/N: I think the last line might be a bit iffy, but I feel that expanding upon it would ruin the effect of the story. Maybe you get it, maybe you don't. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it, and even if you didn't, please review. Thanks!
~Moony