Saying Goodbye

She was in a large, metal bird. A large, heavy, metal bird that she was supposed to trust to take her safely across the Atlantic Ocean. Now, call her crazy, but huge contraptions such as this weren't supposed to be able to stay suspended in air without magic of some sort. However, Hermione had insisted that no magic was involved so, despite her good friend's assurances, she was certain she'd soon be crashing down into a huge, flaming catastrophe on the ground. Ginny only had one logical conclusion: Muggles were insane!

"I'd be safer staying here dealing with You-Know-Who rather than this!" she thought in desperation as her fingers clamped even tighter on the armrests.

"Is this your first time flying?"

The question came from a boy sitting by the tiny window next to her. He had an American accent, and if she had to guess his age, she'd put him at fourteen, maybe fifteen. Enough years younger than her twenty for her to find it aggravating that he could seem so calm while she was in such a state of distress. She wasn't such a ninny under normal circumstances. Godric, she'd kill for a Calming Draught right about now.

"Keep wishing, Ginny," she disdainfully told herself. "As soon as you're in America, it's life as a muggle for you." For the foreseeable future anyway.

Forcing the sarcasm from her voice, (she would be sitting by the kid for the next several hours, after all) Ginny replied, "What tipped you off?"

The boy popped the bubble he'd been blowing with his thumb and index finger and stuffed the gum back inside his mouth before pointing casually and saying, "Cuz you're holding on for dear life, and we haven't even left the ground yet."

Ginny glanced down to where he had gestured, just now noticing how tight her grip on the armrests was. She forced herself to let go, flexing her fingers so the blood flow could return to her white knuckles.

"It's not that bad, you know," the kid next to her began to explain. "I had my flying cherry popped back when I was like six or something. I was pretty freaked out, too, but once you're up in the air, it's smooth sailing. Unless you hit bad weather of course. It gets a little bumpy then, but still. Haven't been on a plane that's crashed yet," he grinned.

"Lovely," she grumbled in return. The plane at that moment happened to start moving, and she gripped the seat again in desperation.

"Don't worry. We're not taking off. We haven't even started heading for the runway yet." The kid was smirking now. Ginny wanted to hex him. She was still glaring at him when he murmured, "Hey, if it's your first time, you might want to listen."

She hadn't even realized that the woman in the uniformed, black and white pant suit had started speaking to the passengers, even with that funny, little, Muggle voice amplifier thing she was using.

Crap. "Get it together," she chastised herself. Harry would have her head if he could see how debilitating her nerves were to her attention right now. Sure it was just a Muggle woman giving instructions on what to expect for the flight, "but what if a Death Eater had somehow managed to follow you onto the plane?" She could practically hear Harry's worried and frustrated tone saying the words. She wouldn't have been the slightest bit aware. She could have easily been hexed in the past several minutes and never would have seen it coming.

Well, that wouldn't do at all, not when the whole blasted reason she was on this plane was to get her safely into hiding and out of You-Know-Who's clutches.

It had been a hell of a decision, if she'd stay or go. Her family needed her, and she'd fought vehemently against the idea of leaving them, of leaving Harry, but of course, the strain in her father's voice when he wearily asked for her consent had done well to knock a few bricks from the stubborn wall she'd built up on the issue. Her dad had never been the same after her mother's accident a few years ago. It was the same night they'd lost Fred, at the Battle of Hogwarts. Then Harry…one look into his mesmerizing green eyes, seeing the love and desperation for her safety in there…that had done her in.

Harry hadn't always been so overly protective of her. He knew she could well stand her own in a fight, but the thing was, You-Know-Who, if he wasn't doing so before, had decided to play dirty. Ever since he had discovered how very close Harry was growing to actually defeating him, she had become the sinister wizard's prime target, a distraction to draw his prophesized defeater out of hiding.

The thing was Harry wasn't in hiding. Well, he was, but not in a cowardly sort of way. He and Hermione (and Ron up until the point he'd been hurt a few months ago) were keeping low key and on the move, in search of the last Horcrux. Unfortunately, a misinterpreted clue let You-Know-Who onto their progress, and the final, separated piece of the so-called Dark Lord's soul they needed to destroy had been moved, no doubt with even more protection than before.

It was the new state of the situation that had everybody so concerned for her. Ginny would much rather stay and fight. She'd faced Death Eaters before, on more occasions than she could count. She'd taken on four at once that fateful night at Hogwarts…and she'd only been sixteen then.

Wow…it was hard to believe that in just a couple of weeks it will have been four years since Fred had passed and her mother's mind had been subjected to the Cruciatus so severely it would only be in right working order a few hours out of the day. The one good thing that had happened that night was that Percy had come back to the family. He'd lost three of the fingers on his wand hand since then, though, and what a baby he'd been while she'd been patching him up.

With her mother in the state she was most of the time, Ginny had felt it her place to step in as her family's caretaker. Fleur helped quite a bit as well. She and Bill had stayed with them all for a long while after the battle, while they had all depended on each other so for support, but they were married, and they deserved what normalcy they could salvage during this horrid war. So after some insistence from the family, they spent a good deal of time back at Shell Cottage now, though Ginny could always count on her sister-in-law for an ear, shoulder, or hand as needed.

She never thought she'd appreciate Fleur so much, but with Hermione gone most of the time and her mum basically… Well, there was no need for labels. After all, her mum could be much worse. Ginny was occasionally able to steal much sorely needed and missed mother-daughter time on Molly Weasley's most lucid days. Those, however, were much too rare, and as much as it tortured her, no one in the family was affected as much as Arthur Weasley.

That really was what had gotten her to agree to the plan that had wound her up on this plane. Ginny could see it in her father's eyes. He couldn't take it if something happened to another member of their family.

And that's why she had to be on alert now. The stewardess was still talking. Ginny had her ears wide open for that, but her eyes were now skimming cautiously through the rest of the passengers.

There was a Muggle business man across the aisle from her. She could tell by all of the gadgets he was turning off and stowing away via the stewardess' instructions for all electnic devices. A couple of elderly women were chatting innocently from behind her, and there were several families seated in the next rows in front of her. She wished she could see more of the people on board. She should have been paying more attention as everyone was getting on. Well, at least everyone close by seemed alright.

She watched as a man near the front stood to add something to the overhead luggage carriers. It was a long, black case with a handle. It looked like something she could easily store her wand in. Curious, she whispered to her companion, "Do you know what kind of case that is?"

He glanced in the direction she was still looking. "Looks like some sort of instrument case," he shrugged.

"Instrument case?"

"Yeah, you know, like for a flute or something. The band geeks carry around things like those at school."

Ginny decided it would be better to just nod as if she understood. She continued to watch as the man shut the overhead compartment, determined to remain vigilant, when her staring must have caught his eye. He paused, penetrating her with a scrutinizing dark gaze that caused her breath to hitch. She began easing her leg up, reaching for her wand she had so carefully tucked into her knee high boots, when his look changed. He shook his head as though confused and lowered himself into his seat.

Ginny immediately relaxed. She was becoming paranoid. "You probably freaked him out with your staring," she laughed to herself.

Confident that for now she could relax and worry about the impending takeoff, Ginny turned to her informative friend as the stewardess put the voice amplifier away. "You think we'll be taking off soon?" The plane eased into movement a second later, and she found herself clutching the armrests at her sides again.

The boy smirked. She was beginning to think he enjoyed watching her freak out. "Yeah," he replied, gentle laughter just audible in his words. "I'd say that's a possibility." She threw him another dirty look. "Here," he grinned wider as he pulled something from his pocket. "Take a piece. It'll help with the air pressure."

"What's going to happen with the air pressure?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"Makes your ears pop. Don't worry. It stops once we're at a steady altitude again." He shoved an open pack of gum in front of her. Ginny nodded and numbly took a piece.

"I'm Adam, by the way."

Ginny, she almost answered. "Brittney," she barely managed to remember. She was now Brittney Southerby, according to all of the documents Hermione had drawn up for her. Muggles really did have a lot of cards and paperwork to mess with. "You can call me Britt, though."

"Nice," Adam smiled.

Ginny just swallowed. The stewardess was giving out the last warnings now. Godric, this metal bird better do what Hermione promised it would.

"You can hold my hand if you want," Adam offered through his smirk. Ginny shook her head, performing a mental eye roll, but then the plane began moving forward, building in speed so that she was desperately chomping on her gum and praying she survived as she was pushed back into her seat by the force of their acceleration.

Ginny did not like it at all. Her ears were hurting, there was pressure in her head, her stomach was in knots, and she just knew she was going to die. It seemed like forever before the uncomfortable sensations eased and she dared to open her eyes again.

It should not have surprised her to find Adam smirking at her.

"What?" she barked.

"You've got a strong grip."

She looked down. She was indeed clutching tightly onto his wrist, two of her nails digging into the palm of his hand. She jerked her hand away, flushing in the process. "Sorry," she grumbled.

"S'okay," he shrugged. "Glad to be of service."

She gave him a funny look then. "You're a little odd. You know that, right?"

He shrugged, rewarding her by broadening his grin. Ginny rolled her eyes playfully this time and swept her eyes over the surrounding passengers again. Constant vigilance, as the late Mad-Eye would say. Assured once again that things around her were safe, for the moment at least, Ginny decided to make conversation with the boy that was steadily growing on her, even through her annoyance.

"So Adam, I can tell you're American; why were you in England?"

"Visiting my dad. He's military. He got stationed over there last fall."

"Don't you still have school, though?"

"Easter break. My parents alternate holidays. My dad typically gets me on the ones where there's a big enough break from school. I'm so ready to be eighteen. It's a pain in the ass going back and forth all the time."

Ginny was only half listening. She had completely forgotten about the Easter hols this year. No one else in her family seemed to notice either. It was moments like this when she was reminded of how draining the war had become.

"How old are you?" she heard herself asking. Well, at least some part of her consciousness was paying attention.

"Sixteen," Adam replied. "You?"

"Twenty."

He sized her up. "Huh…I'd pegged you for a little older."

She certainly felt it sometimes.

"So where are you going?" he asked when she didn't respond. She looked at him questioningly. "I mean, are you stopping in Georgia, or are you on the layover flight like me?"

"Oh," she quickly thought through the list of stops she'd be making: Georgia, New York, Denver, Dallas, Sacramento. "Er…I've got several layovers, actually." She didn't want to say where she was actually going. She still wasn't totally sure how secure this flight was.

"Bummer," Adam grimaced in sympathy. "Home's in Houston for me."

"You don't sound very southern."

Her comment earned her another smirk. "Not everyone in the south sounds like some cowboy, ma'am," he teased, lacing a thick Texas twang through his remark.

Ginny grinned and rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she was learning, it was that her flight with Adam probably wasn't going to be boring. He was more than willing to stay engaged in conversation, and throughout the next several hours, he kept her intriguingly entertained.

She was proud of herself, really. She'd been wise about her time with her new friend, him being a Muggle and her about to be impersonating one for who knows how long…

She asked about what kinds of things he liked to do, taking mental notes and asking questions about activities she wasn't familiar with. He showed her how to work his cell phone and his MP3 player, which played Muggle music through some things called ear buds. He taught her how to play a few Muggle games with a deck of cards he'd brought with him, and she had asked about differences in culture that he'd noticed during his visit. Apparently, she would not be old enough to consume alcohol in America until August. A slight disappointment, but she didn't drink that often.

The one biggie she was worried about…it sounded like she might need to learn how to drive a car. Apparently, at least according to Adam, it was practically a crime if you didn't get your license at sixteen. His mum had started teaching him when he was fourteen. She was so behind.

Close to the end of the flight, their talk had died out. Adam was now lightly snoring and drooling against the window. Ginny had yet to notice any other slightly suspicious behavior. The man up front had even passed her for the bathroom a couple of hours ago and didn't even pay her a passing glance. Perhaps she had made it out safely.

When it came time to land, she nudged her new friend awake. He'd warned her that the descent could be as bad as the takeoff for some people. He grumbled and fished in his pocket for some more gum for the two of them, and this time she gladly took his hand on the way down.

She was a little sad to have to leave Adam as she followed the other passengers off the plane. It would have been nice having someone to talk to until her next flight. But his ticket connected him directly to Houston. He had given her his cell phone number, though, and she tucked it carefully in her back pocket for later. It was likely she'd never see him again, but she didn't know anyone in this country. It felt better having a contact of sorts. You never knew, right?

The first place Ginny went after arriving at the airport in Georgia was the bathroom. She had refused to use the tiny cubicle she'd found on the plane, and her bladder was about ready to burst. She hung her bag on a hook on the stall door, and once her body was relieved and she could process a thought other than do not wet your pants, she pulled her wand from her boot and held it up to her throat.

"The last bit of my disguise," she thought as she considered what kind of accent to give herself. She mulled over the various American accents she'd overheard today. She recalled the business man's voice when he'd requested a drink. He had a brusque way of speaking, and he talked really fast. There were a couple of women in the middle of a conversation about lip gloss over at the sinks at the moment. One did something really odd with her r's, and the other had a deep southern twang similar to the one Adam had used mockingly. She rather enjoyed Adam's accent, actually. It had a pleasant sound, and once she'd learned he was from Texas, she'd been able to detect a slight southern drawl behind some of his words.

Concentrating as hard as she could, (she didn't want her old accent to bleed through when she wasn't paying attention) she focused on the way her new friend's words sounded as they rolled off his tongue and silently cast the charm Hermione had her practicing for the past week. The second she had performed it, she knew she had done it well because even her thoughts had begun processing in the new intonation. They'd barely done that when she'd practiced.

Ginny took a deep breath, tucking her wand away once again before grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder and across her body. She was keeping it as close to her as possible. Everything she owned, or at least all of the Muggle approved items she was able to bring, was in that bag, thanks to one of Hermione's incredible, Undetectable Extension Charms. She'd be lost without it.

Stepping out of the stall, Ginny went to wash her hands at the sinks and looked in the mirror. The nine hour flight had not done her any favors. She ran her fingers through her messy hair, pulling the brown strands back into a ponytail. A part of the Muggle glamour techniques she, Hermione, and Fleur had spent the later part of yesterday putting together. It looked nice, but she would miss her red. Her brown eyes were also gone, now replaced with a dark, grayish blue color, and thanks to Fleur's extensive knowledge with makeup and all things girly, even her own face was hardly recognizable. She sighed at the thought of messing with the stuff every day. She certainly couldn't rely on Polyjuice Potion to hold a new appearance for her, though, not with potions so hard to come by.

They'd spared as much of the Polyjuice Potion available as they dared for Hermione to Apparate her to the airport that morning. They'd come as twins in Ginny's new look and sported a deep, Scottish brogue with the help of the voice modifying charm. It had been a tearful hug goodbye as her "twin" left her at the baggage scanning area. Hermione had become a sister to her over the years, though, and it felt good to let a few tears fall. She hadn't been able to do that when she'd said goodbye to her brothers the night before. She'd kept as pleasant a face as possible around them, preferring to come across as confident and hopeful rather than scared and grumpy. The latter two she'd only shown to Hermione and Fleur.

"I hate it," Ginny grimaced at her reflection in her bedroom mirror back at the burrow.

Fleur came up, adjusting a lock of the dyed hair as she gave her sister-in-law's new look thoughtful consideration. "Well, I'll admit it eez not you, but you do look lovely." Her English pronunciation had improved greatly over the years, but her French influence did slip through at times.

"It needed to be a drastic change," Hermione added, giving her a sympathetic look over her shoulder.

"I know," Ginny sighed. "I suppose it will just take some getting used to."

"Zat's zee spirit," Fleur smiled encouragingly. She picked up a small brown pencil. "Now, are you going to remember how to do all zis, or should I explain it again?"

"I think I got it," Ginny replied, not really interested in sitting through another demonstration. She was going to miss her days of a simple coat of powder and mascara. Seeing her sister-in-law's doubtful expression, she added, "It'll have to be done again before I leave. I can watch you do Hermione's, and then I can do my own for practice."

Fleur nodded, appeased, and went to help Hermione with the last bit of packing, leaving Ginny to continue staring at the girl in the mirror she did not recognize. Her gaze shifted to the room reflected from behind her. Only half of her possessions still out, the room seemed barren and unfamiliar.

She watched Fleur folding one of the blouses she had sewn for her in the last several days. She'd have to have a different wardrobe to go with a different face, after all. Hermione was tucking the handmade quilt her mum had made for her the summer before she started Hogwarts into the bag on the bed. The two items contradicted so much, a part of different lives. One from a happy childhood, a time of innocence before anything dark had touched her. The other a part of a fabrication yet to be developed, one she'd have to live in, alone and not as herself. It was all a bit overwhelming in that moment.

Ginny bent her head, blinking back tears that were insistently trying to leak through.

"Ginny?" She heard Hermione whisper softly.

She looked up to meet the gazes of the two other women in the mirror. It was then that her frustration broke through. She stamped her foot. "I don't want to have to leave," she fumed as the stubborn tears began to wet her lashes. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't fair.

"Oh, but, Ginny, you must," Fleur immediately began to protest. "For everyone's peace of mind, for your brozers and your dad. We all need to know you'll be safe."

"Why am I not safe enough here?" she countered. "We've got the Fidelous, and everyone needs me here."

Hermione took a few tentative steps towards the explosive red head. "Everyone needs you safe more, Ginny, and you know why we can't fully trust the Fidelius anymore."

She sighed. She did know. Their Secret Keeper was missing. Her family had full faith in Lee, but with You-Know-Who being such a strong Legilimens…it just wasn't a sure thing any longer.

"Think of what it would do to Harry if something happened to you," her bushy haired friend added after the silent pause.

That was enough to send Ginny's anger crackling again. "Don't talk to me about Harry, not if you're still refusing to tell me where he is," she fumed. The blasted idiot hadn't even tried to see her since she'd agreed to go on this little 'trip'. Enthrall her with those breathtaking green eyes of his, make her leave her home and her family when she was perfectly capable of defending herself, and then not even bother to show himself for a proper goodbye?! The wizard had nerve.

"Ginny…" Hermione sighed, her tone half exasperated, half sympathetic.

"I'd like to see my boyfriend, the love of my life, one last time before I'm shipped away!" she exclaimed. Hermione was shaking her head, though, so she knew she wasn't going to get anything out of her. "Do you at least know if he's planning on showing himself within the next couple of hours?" she asked heatedly, her hands placed defiantly on her hips.

"It's Harry, Ginny. I'm sure he's still arguing with himself over whether or not he's willing to risk it." Ginny's eyes began to water, and she nodded. She was a risk then. Hermione gently added. "But knowing Harry, he'll figure out what's the better choice."

"Which is the one that doesn't involve the use of your infamous Bat Bogey Hex," a deep voice said from her bedroom doorway. Ginny turned to face her eldest brother. Bill was leaning casually against the doorframe, a teasing, yet understanding smile on his face. "He'll come, Gin."

Something about hearing her brother say those words was reassuring, and she quickly crossed the room to wrap him in a hug. "Thanks, Bill."

He kissed the top of her head. "Anytime, kiddo," and he laughed when she slapped his arm.

Ginny pulled herself from her memory there, realizing she couldn't waste all day staring at a foreign version of herself in a mirror.

After a few touch ups to her makeup, she located her next flight and spent a few minutes browsing a couple of gift shops. She didn't buy anything, but she did stop at a small kiosk for a pack of gum. She fumbled with the new currency some and blushed uncomfortably when she noticed a woman watching her. She'd been considering stopping at a restaurant, McDonalds the sign said, across the way where many Muggles were purchasing breakfast, but after that humiliating attempt, she chose to go find a seat in the waiting area instead. And wasn't it just her luck that the woman from the kiosk chose a seat a few rows away only minutes later? She smiled when she noticed Ginny glancing her way and then turned to talk to a man in a red cap next to her as though there had been nothing to take note of.

Ginny sighed. She really was full of herself to think a woman she didn't even know was going to give a Hipogriff's beak if she could count money or not.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nine AM here. It would be mid-afternoon back home. She thought about what her family was probably doing now. Were they okay without her? She worried about her dad the most. She'd seen how close to tears he'd been the night before.

After a few minutes of joking around with Bill and a heartfelt and easy hug goodnight (and goodbye), Ginny decided it would be easier to see everyone that night rather than grasping for hugs in the wee hours of the morning. Godric only knew if her emotions would hold in check then.

She found Percy polishing his shoes in his bedroom, where she then received a lecture on proper organization for her travel plans. Rolling her eyes, she told her brother that she'd miss him, too, and they parted with a strong embrace.

The next flight of stairs led her to the room George now shared with Charlie. It had been too much for him to stay in the room he'd shared with Fred. Her dad slept there most nights now. Her mum wasn't really in a state to share a bed anymore.

The mood was a bit lighter in George and Charlie's room. It would never be the same as if Fred had been there, but Charlie made for a good substitute to the twins' humor. She'd walked away with lungs squeezed of air, a smile on her face, and a scorch mark on her shoe Fleur was sure to huff and have kittens over if she saw it.

Ginny paused on the landing that held the door to her parents' bedroom. She wanted her last memory of her mum to be a good one, and a sweet mother-daughter moment the evening prior had awarded her with reassurances and promises for a better future. She didn't want to give that up. Thankfully, her father stepped from the room before she could debate it too long.

After a small double take, she was greeted with, "Blimey, that's different. Hi, sweetheart," Arthur Weasley's blue eyes smiled sadly at his daughter.

"Hi, Daddy. What do you think?" she asked, gesturing to her head.

"You look lovely, as always, Princess. I'll miss the red, though."

"Me, too."

"Your mum's asleep right now if you'd like to tell her goodbye."

"No," she shook her head. "I was coming to find you."

He smiled, and they went down to the sitting room. The eldest Weasley sat in his old recliner and patted his knee for her to come sit on his lap like she had when she was little. Ginny smiled and took her spot, settling in against her daddy's chest.

"It's going to be strange without you here," he said after several quiet minutes. "I'm going to miss you. You remind me so much of your mum, flitting about the house taking care of everyone, cleaning up after all of us and keeping food in our bellies."

"I could stay, you know…" she hedged carefully.

"No. You can't." Her father's response was firm but not hard.

Ginny sighed. "Promise me you'll be okay without me here."

"Princess…the only way I will be okay is if I know you're safe. Your brothers and I will be fine."

"What if this goodbye is forever?" she asked quietly, almost afraid to say the words. She immediately regretted the question. Her dark thoughts were meant for her to worry about.

Arthur Weasley pulled his grown baby girl into a hug and then eased back to meet her eyes. "It won't be. It's as simple as that."

Ginny could see the impending tears swimming in her father's gaze, and she flung her arms around his neck for another solid hug. He squeezed her back, holding tight as they blinked away tears.

"Have you finished saying goodbye to all of your brothers?" he asked before letting her go.

"I still need to see Ron."

"Go then," her father said, pushing her up. "Ginny," he called when she reached the door.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Daddy."

It had been talking to Ron that had kept her sane after that. He was the brother she'd always been closest to. She'd had the most time with him growing up, and once she and Harry had become an item, she'd come into his social group even more. It was only these last few years she hadn't really been able to see him too often. It pained her for why he was here now, but she was still glad for the time they'd had recently.

She knocked gently and eased the door open. "Hey," she greeted. "Thought you could use this." She held out a sandwich. Dinner had been nearly three hours ago so she was sure he was nearly wasting away. In his head, at least.

"Merlin," he gaped, arm only half outstretched for the plate. "Is that you, Ginny?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's the lead singer from the Weird Sisters. Of course it's me, you prat!"

Coming out of his shock, Ron took the plate and began eyeing the sandwich as if trying to decide what spot would be the most delicious place to start. "You don't have to be sarcastic," he said as he lifted the food to his mouth. "And I wouldn't joke like that. She's a Death Eater, you know."

"Who is?" she asked as she pulled a chair up next to his bed and took a seat. "The singer?" Ron nodded and began to answer with his mouth full. "Chew first," she requested.

"She was one of the ones that showed up when the Snatchers snagged me in January. Showed up with Dolohov and Malfoy," Ron answered once his mouth was clear of all food.

"She's the one who did this to you?" Ginny asked reproachfully, pointing at her brother's leg through the sheets. "How's it feeling tonight, by the way? Do I need to take a look at it?"

"Probably wouldn't hurt," he replied, pulling the sheet to the side so she could get to his bandage. "And no, she didn't do that. That was all Malfoy. She was the one that tossed that lovely Cutting Curse my way."

"You were so lucky Hermione had enough Dittany left to treat that. Your shoulder would've never been the same if that wound hadn't been sealed soon enough," Ginny said as she pulled the bandage back from his leg to reveal an open, oozing wound that stretched several inches down the side of his thigh. Hit with a deep Cutting Curse and followed up with a splash of poison that affected the muscle, the skin around the wound was raised and purple. It looked revolting.

Being as gentle as possible, Ginny inspected the affected area. "It seems to be oozing a little less than it was last week," she commented as she went to gather some herbs and bandages from a shelf a few feet away.

"Damn thing needs to heal already," Ron grumbled as she approached the bed again.

She smiled sympathetically. "You know that won't happen any time soon, not with all of the controls on potion making."

The wound could heal properly in next to no time with the right potion, but it was pretty much impossible for a blood traitor family to be approved for even the most basic potion making ingredients, much less the rarer items they'd need for this. As a result, they were left with soap, water, and what medicinal herbs Ginny could keep growing in the garden.

"Hold still, please," she instructed as she began tending the affected area.

Ron winced but did as she asked. "You'd be a good healer, you know," he said once she was done. "Have you thought about it, you know, for one day, in the future…when things aren't like this?"

"At this point, I take it day by day, Ron." Or the next time she got to see Harry, anyway.

"Yeah," her brother nodded thoughtfully. "You heard from Harry yet?"

She immediately frowned. "No."

Ron's expression turned to one similar to hers. "How long until you leave?"

"Why? You wondering if you've got enough time to fool around with Hermione first?"

He smirked. "Hey…if she's willing, and I'm able…"

"Ugh…" Ginny groaned. "I don't need that picture in my head!"

"So am I in the clear, Healer Weasley? I'll let her do most of the work." He waggled his eyebrows at her, extending her torture.

"Ron! Ugh! Yes, okay. It's fine. Ugh. New subject, please."

"Hey, you brought it up."

She shook her head, still trying to rid herself of a most unwanted vision. "There's about five hours until we leave, and after that most unpleasant bit of our conversation, I'm going to bed."

He chuckled and added before she left the room, "I'll miss you, Ginny."

She paused in the doorway to smile back at the brother she was going to miss the most. "I'll miss you, too, Ron."

"Send Hermione up."

"Ugh!" she cried, shutting the door loudly behind her.

Those five hours had passed much too quickly for her liking, and with the time difference, she was exhausted. There was a rustling next to her, and her head jerked up. She looked around hastily for the source of the noise. The woman from before smiled at her.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. You ticket slipped from your lap, and I was tucking it into the pocket of your bag for you."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Ginny replied stupidly as she rubbed at a kink in her neck where her head had lolled to the side. She scooted up straighter and pulled out a piece of gum for good measure. She hadn't even realized she'd been nodding off, even if it was only part way.

"You're supposed to be cautious," she chastised herself for the second time that day. "Wake up, Ginny. You didn't go through all those goodbyes and leave everyone important behind you for nothing!"