He sits down beside her and places a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't turn to greet him but then he doesn't expect her to, not tonight, and anyway he's not sure he could talk if he tried. They're in the back garden at the Burrow, sitting on the wall which looks like it's about to tumble down- he doesn't dare shift his weight to test this.
There's a silent communion of souls. His and hers- he can tell she is grateful for the chance to mourn without anyone else talking about "how brave he was", a chance to be herself with her lost brother- but also theirs and Fred's/ it's been two years but his presence is stronger than ever round his grave where they're sitting. There's a memorial at Hogwarts, of course, but somehow it would have felt wrong not to bring him home. George would never have let them leave his twin anyway, Ginny is sure of that. And she likes that she can come here and be quiet, be alone- even with Harry here, because nowhere is more like being alone than with him, he understands her so perfectly now.
She's come here today, not just to remember Fred, although he's obviously in her mind on this anniversary of his death, but to talk to him. It might sound weird to an outsider, but she's certain that Fred Weasley lives on somewhere.
What do I do? she thinks desperately. Today has been bittersweet. Harry, her Harry, had finally defeated Voldemort; the wizarding world's hope had been fulfilled- but so many deaths. There's a party of sorts going on inside the house but it was subdued- her Mum and Dad particularly had heartbreak etched into their faces. It was easier this year than last, although it would never be easy, when George had still been blaming himself for his twin's death, drinking himself into oblivion just to forget for one single minute...
How do you forget someone who was practically yourself?
But anyway, that wasn't what she had wanted to talk to Fred about, although she did thank him quickly, for sending George back to them, and giving him Alicia...
And sending her Harry, sitting here beside her with his hand on her shoulder, gazing off into the stars with his own thoughts. She loved how he'd allowed her to be alone with Fred for a while before joining them- of course she did, she loved everything about him, she thought, smiling ruefully and taking hold of the hand on her shoulder. He came back out of his reverie and smiled at her, meeting her eyes with his own. He gazed at her as she did at him, steady in this moment, but she could see the passion and the laughter buried in there and thanked Fred once again for bringing those back to him and bringing him to her...
He'd vanished after the battle, and spent a year away, travelling the world, he thought as she thought it, somehow both knowing they were remembering the same thing. New places, new people, trying to forget the hurt and the pain and the horror, trying not to blame himself for all those deaths.And all the time, remembering his friends, and wondering how he could have done this to them. And first and foremost in his mind, a fiery-headed passionate girl who had patiently waited for him all those years, and the blazing look in her eyes which had claimed him as he finally kissed her for the first time...
And the way he'd looked at her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, and kissed her, and kissing him back. And later his stuttering out "I love you", because even thought he fought Voldemort on a regular basis she terrified him. And replying "I love you too, I always have", and seeing how he looked at her, not like she was a goddess because she wasn't, but like she was Ginny and that was all he wanted.
He had come back a year ago today, to the first anniversary at the Burrow, subdued, George scarred, her own heart cut open and angry because although she understood why he'd gone, he had to go away, he didn't take her and he never once wrote. Alicia was there with George, that was where it had happened...
And suddenly she'd known Harry was here, lightning on her skin like she always felt around him. She looked out in the garden, and there he was standing in the pouring rain looking lost and gaunt and in need of succour. Well he wasn't going to get it from Ron and Hermione, they were lost in each other, and he certainly wasn't going to get it from her. She'd rallied up all her anger from the past year, and marched out into the garden, temper blazing. He'd noticed her at last and pushed the wet hair out of his face, and said "Hello, Ginny" and she'd felt her heart break again. The things that shatter when you think there's nothing left.
"I hate you, Harry Potter!" she'd shouted, and noted that the other Weasleys had had enough sense to leave well enough alone and had stayed inside. "A year, a whole year, and I don't get one lousy letter, not even a Christmas card!"
She didn't ask him why he'd gone away, he'd noted, but then she and George were the only ones he thought could understand. Not even Ron and Hermione... they still had each other. She'd run at him, hit him, and he'd let her because in that year he'd learnt a lot, and he'd finally realised that Ginny needed him, and gone away. And finally she'd stopped and burst into stormy tears, mingling with the rain on her face...
And as she cried, she forgave him for everything, even though he was a complete idiot. The rain cleansed her somehow, and it was her core which was all that was left as he'd taken her in his arms and let her cry.
She'd looked at him, and it was the blazing look again, didn't she know he couldn't resist that, and he couldn't drag her down with him, but she looked so perfect with the rain dripping off the end of her nose and her soul showing in her eyes that he'd had to kiss her, one hand in her soaking wet copper-coloured hair.
"Forgive me?" he'd said eventually, when they'd both got their breath again, and she'd looked up into his eyes and smiled.
"I don't hate you," she'd told him later after he'd greeted everyone else and they'd had hot showers and were sitting in clean dry clothes on her bed. His clothes were looser on him than they had been before.
"I meant to come back and talk afterwards, I did, but I couldn't. It was my fault, Ginny. I killed those people. I killed Fred," he'd said, head in his hands.
She didn't say "Nonsense" like Hermione, just shook her head and kissed him, and then they'd fallen back onto her bed somehow and sought comfort in each other until he smiled and she felt raw. Finally their happy ending, although they'd never wanted it at the cost.
Harry had told her about the muggle God, but why did she need it when she had Fred's spirit looking out for her?
They look at each other, knowing they have been sharing the same memory. They have another year's worth of shared memories after that, as she finished Hogwarts and did some training, and he... well he learnt to live again, and got a job in the Ministry, and found excuses to visit her whenever possible as their relationship healed and grew stronger.
What do I do? she thinks again. Tonight is calm and warm, not like the storm last year, but Ginny is terrified. She's left Hogwarts and spent a year doing nothing because she has no idea what to do with her life. Harry knows this which is why he left her alone quite so long with Fred tonight, although having spent a year apart he treasures her all the more and has almost a physical need for her to be by his side.
She can hear Fred laughing inside her head, at the thought that his superior little sister is so scared of the future. It's not funny! I need you, Fred, she thinks impulsively, a tear sliding down her cheek, catching the moonlight. Harry can feel this even though she sees he's lost in the stars again, and he puts his arm around her, resting her head on his shoulder. He's not lost in the stars, he's lost in her, as her shoulders shudder with the effort of not crying, not again, not tonight. Especially not in front of Fred.
She needs him, and she can never have him again, because he's gone and she's thinking at a cold patch of ground with a simple headstone surrounded by wildflowers and Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes prototypes: and yet his spirit surrounds her.
Fred replies in a way, by a cool breeze that makes Ginny shiver, so that Harry's arm tightens around her, and he takes her hand, chafing it to give some warmth. Bloody hell, Ginny, Harry's here, what more do you want? The moon on a stick?He's laughing again, she can tell.
Ginny smiles, realising she doesn't have to decided today, and she doesn't have to let her future scare her because one part of that has been settled ever since she first laid eyes on Harry Potter when she was ten years old.
At last. Now go, and ask him if he doesn't ask you. Ginny blushes, because even if the voice is only in her head she can tell what he means, and that scares her least of all. She stands up, pulling Harry with her, suddenly much happier. They don't have to say anything because they already know it's this night, and right now.
Fred feels quite proud of the pair of them, so mature and grown-up, and now engaged in a way, although neither of them has said a word.
Ginny never knew that she could feel so alone and yet it could be the best feeling in the world, because it's the missing half of her that she's alone with.
Harry never knew that silence could say so much.
A/N: this is my first ever fanfic, so please let me know what you think!