Before the story begins, I want to say that this story will have depression in it which I have tried to write as accurately as possible. Although it may not match your experiences or what you may have witnessed, I have used inspiration from my grandfather (RIP) who had severe depression.
"That Ginny Weasley has such potential," Madam Hooch once said to Professor McGonagall after a particularly successful flying lesson. The head of Gryffindor had come to watch the lesson one November morning, which Ginny was delighted about. She'd wanted to impress the strict witch ever since she'd started, and there was no chance of that in Transfiguration. It was easily the hardest subject she was taking, even harder than slaving away over a cauldron in Potions. But now Ginny was in a lesson where she really excelled.
"I agree," McGonagall had replied. "She's a hard worker in all my lessons – I expect great things from her." So she wasn't that bad a student after all! Ginny had swelled with pride; she wasn't sure if she was meant to have heard it, but now she had, she resolved to work even harder. Maybe she could be like her older brothers if she did – that would make her parents proud.
Throughout her years at Hogwarts, many teachers commented on her various skills in lessons. She wasn't exactly top in all lessons, but most of her teachers said the same thing:-"Ginny has many great options once she's left school."
These happy memories of her school days were what travelled through her mind each day of Ginny's tedious new life. It was a year after the Second Wizarding War had ended, a year since everyone's lives had changed for the better and sometimes the worse too.
Life without Fred wasn't the same at all. It was almost like George was gone too, because ever since the dreadful day of Fred's death, he had sunk into a deep depression. Ginny would never have thought that George would ever be a shadow of his former self, no matter what happened to him, but tragically this was what they now had to live with. She was the one who had to stay at home and look after him, because no-one else could. Although she felt selfish, Ginny wished that she could swap lives with almost anyone else, so she could live a little and achieve the great things she always wanted to do.
~~~(O.O)~~~
It was a beautiful sunny day in late May. Ginny was baking in the kitchen; she had grown rather a fondness for making bread and biscuits the Muggle way, even if it was time-consuming. Besides, it filled out the long and monotonous days.
Behind her, George sat quietly on the sofa, staring into space. Long gone were the days where he would be running outside to bask in the sun, zooming round and round the garden on his broomstick.
"Don't you want to go outside and enjoy the fresh air, George?" Ginny called to him, though she knew it would be useless. "It'll do you good."
George smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm happy here, Gin."
"Sure? We could go and eat outside once I've finished here – the bread's nearly done and I bought fresh bacon earlier." Bacon sandwiches were George's favourite food. She tried to make them often, even though he barely touched them and she wasn't a huge fan of the flavour.
George didn't answer. Ginny sighed softly and checked the oven.
A few minutes later, Ginny noticed an owl soaring towards the house outside. It was an unusual bird, not a type she saw often. She opened the window and let it in, where it stood on the kitchen worktop that she had just cleaned.
Ginny took the letter from the owl and reached underneath the counter for some owl treats that she kept in handy. Feeding the owl, she slowly opened the letter and looked to the bottom to see who it was from. It was from Bill, who had returned to Egypt with Fleur.
"Feel free to make yourself at home," she told the owl, stroking it carefully. The Pharaoh-eagle owl nibbled her finger affectionately and swooped off to the rafters of the living room. Ginny checked to see how long the bread would be, then went to sit on the chair adjacent to the sofa. She put her feet up (one of the rare times she felt able to do this) and read.
In his letter he spoke of the wonderful time in Egypt that he and Fleur were having. Bill spoke of his successful job and the debate on whether or not to have children yet. At the end of the letter, he asked that he and Fleur stay at the Burrow for a while in early June 'to get away from Egypt for a while.'
"Bill and Fleur are coming to stay next week George, isn't that nice?" Ginny said, folding the letter and placing it on the coffee table. She grabbed some parchment and a quill to hurriedly write back.
"Yeah, very nice," George said absentmindedly, leaning back and staring at the floor.
If Ginny was being completely honest with herself, she resented Bill and Fleur. After the War, and Fred's funeral, they had rushed back to Egypt to begin their new fairytale life without a backwards glance. It was alright for them. Bill had used the excuse of his job to avoid staying in the empty place that was their family home. In a way, she understood how he felt. If she were in his position, she too would probably scarper rather than mope about in the Burrow. The strongest feelings that Ginny was feeling were resentment and envy.
After she had sent the owl off with a short reply, she took the bread out of the oven, prepared the bacon and made the two of them bacon sandwiches. Putting them onto Molly's favourite floral plates, she took them outside and set them on the table, then went back inside.
"Come on George, it's a nice day. We're going to eat outside."
George didn't try to argue with her, instead allowing himself to be led into the garden to the table and chairs.
As much as Ginny loved George, he wasn't overly good company these days. They sat in silence, both slowly munching their sandwiches. Well, Ginny was.
"George, you need to eat. Please. Fred wouldn't want you to be like this."
George flinched at the name of his twin. "I just don't get it, Gin," he said slowly. "Why did it have to be Fred? Why not me, or at least both of us?"
It wasn't often that he ever opened up to her anymore. She had no idea what to say to this, knowing that he blamed himself for his twin's death.
"It doesn't feel right. I shouldn't have survived it. I should have been right there with Freddie-"
"George," Ginny said gently. "Please listen to me. It is not your fault that he died. All of us feel some guilt about surviving when so many others didn't, but you really shouldn't be beating yourself up about it all the time. Fred wouldn't want this."
"I know," George said quietly. He looked so lost that Ginny wanted to cry. Instead she reached across the table and took her older brother's hand. He didn't pull away; on the contrary she felt him grip her hand back. They stayed like that for a long time out in the garden.
~~~(O.O)~~~
Ginny and George had only been back inside for ten minutes when there was a faint pop behind her. She turned to see who it was; it was Harry.
She forced a smile. "Hi Harry."
He came up, kissing her on the lips gently and holding her in his arms for a second.
"You okay Gin? Where's George?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, and George is just in the living room." She put the plates in the washing up bowl and cast a non-verbal spell as Harry strolled over to George and crouched beside his chair.
"How are you feeling today George?"
Harry was just being nice, but Ginny just wanted to scream, 'He's depressed! He's ill and you know he's not getting better!" He didn't just understand George, not when his life was just getting started.
"Yeah, I'm fine Harry," George said dully. He bit the skin next to his fingernails and stared out of the window.
Harry looked up towards Ginny, but she carefully avoided his gaze. She'd explained a dozen times about her brother, but it never seemed to really register with anyone.
"What did you do today?" Ginny asked him, putting on the kettle. "Do you want some tea?"
"Yeah please. I went up to Hogwarts again today, to give the Second Years a talk." He grinned reminiscently, pushing his glasses up his nose. "D'you remember mine and Ron's grand entrance in your Dad's car?"
Ginny smiled. "I do."
"I'm also discussing with McGonagall about having Snape's portrait put up in the Headmaster's Office. It's the least he deserved, I mean he helped save the Wizarding World."
Ginny turned away, and rolled her eyes. She didn't understand Harry's sudden hero-worship of their old teacher. Sure, he wasn't the cowardly scum everyone thought he was, but he was a bully. And Harry was forgetting that.
"I wonder how Neville feels about that," she said aloud.
"Did you say something Gin?" Harry called. He'd been too busy wittering on to even hear her.
"Nope," Ginny said with a sigh.
Not for the first time, Ginny found herself willing Harry to leave.
Ron's POV
Night had fallen before Ron returned to the house. He threw off his travelling cloak, grinning, as he entered the kitchen.
"George has gone to bed," Ginny informed him quietly from the living room. She was holding a mug of warm tea, which she now set on the table. Harry had left minutes earlier, and she found she wasn't sorry about this.
"Oh. Okay." Ron came in, hanging up the clock, and sat down across from her. "It's been a busy day. I popped in to see Mum for a few hours after work."
"How is she?" Ginny asked immediately. Molly Weasley had barely survived the Wizarding War, and her mental health had taken a turn for the worst too. Her immune system was also greatly weakened; she was currently recovering from Dragon Pox which really she was too young to get. It tended to be an older witch or wizard's disease.
"She's recovering quite well; I suppose she's still quite young though, isn't she? Mum's ever so confused though these days. Kept thinking I was Fred and all..."
Ginny bent her head, trying to hide the tears that had sprung into her eyes. Ron stopped talking, and awkwardly got up to pat her on the back.
"Aw, I'm sorry Gin... Why don't you go up to bed?" Ron said kindly. "Look, I was thinking that if I took a few hours off tomorrow, you could go and see Mum? It's not good for you to be cooped up in the house all day, and she mentioned you today. It'll be good for both of you."
Wiping her eyes, Ginny nodded. She looked up, and there was a look of understanding between the two siblings.
"I'll wash up-"Ron began, but Ginny was already taking care of it on her way to the stairs, she had gotten that good with the absence of their mother. She paused a few steps up.
"Goodnight Ron."
"Goodnight Ginny."
Ron's POV
Ron paced the living room. Despite Hermione's jab in their fifth year about his lack of emotion, he knew that Ginny wasn't just crying because of their dead sibling. He recognised when someone was overworked and tired.
Ever since the end of the war, he had worried quite a bit about his sister. At Hogwarts, Ginny was popular, bubbly and bright. She always had friends surrounding her, always had a witty comeback to anything and always had ambitions and dreams of a bright future. Now though? She barely left the house, and never saw anyone except for her family and Harry.
At the thought of his best friend, came a twinge of annoyance. Harry was definitely different these days, no doubt about it. In fact it was hard to tell who was busier these days; Hermione or Harry. But being busy hadn't stopped him in the past; it was him who was forced to enter the Triwizard Tournament, it was him who had to do all those torturous detentions with Umbridge. He'd always still had time for his friends though. But now it seemed he didn't have time for the old group, for Hermione, or him, or even Ginny. Ginny was his girlfriend, for crying out loud!
Pulling his Deluminator out of his pocket, he dimmed all the lights, then retreated upstairs. His bed, warm, cosy and inviting, was waiting for him.
