So here is just the first of my little short story. I just couldn't stop thinking back on The Dark Lords' Pawn and being all like, 'How would Tom/Ginny react to this?', so I settled on six brief looks at their growing relationship. If you haven't read TDLP, you should, because if you haven't, this chapter will make very little sense.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think! I'll post the second part tomorrow!
-Jenn
1. May 1998
"When the rain
Is blowing in your face,
And the whole world
Is on your case,
I could offer you
A warm embrace
To make you feel my love."
Tom stood nervously at the tent flaps, "Just go, Tom." Miranda snapped at him.
"Randa, most of the people out there hate me. I'm responsible for those deaths." He told his twin. He'd spent the last few minutes trying to decide if he should leave his tent.
She wasn't having any of his excuses though, mostly because of the sour mood she was in. He didn't blame her, they were about to attend a mass funeral after all. "Tom, I won't stand one minute more of your horse dung. If you don't go out there now, you're making it seem like you're not grateful that you aren't sitting in a cell in Azkaban for the rest of your life."
He groaned, "I am grateful, Randa, I just..."
Miranda hissed a curse at him in parseltongue, "Suck it up, Tom!" She yelled after, instantly covering her mouth with her hand, "Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. I'm just hormonal."
"It's alright, I deserved that." He said, giving her a hug, "And you have every right to be hormonal. You've got my niece or nephew already testing your tempers. I'm sorry."
She shook her head, adjusting her dress again, "I've got to go get Harry."
Tom nodded, watching his sister leave, drawing her coat tightly around her. "Be careful."
She paused, flashing a weary smile to him, "Same to you, brother, same to you."
He waited a few minutes before he approached the fabric doors again. The weather seemed to reflect the general atmosphere of the gathered crowed, dark and stormy.
"Come on, Ginevra, why so glum?" He tried to joke. She didn't respond, staring vacantly at her brother Percy's coffin. "Can I at least get a little smile? Just a small one, just enough to brighten this day." She didn't respond, and Tom did the only thing he could think to do, putting an arm around her shoulders. She turned slightly into him when it began raining. "There, there, love. I'll keep you safe." He whispered to her, unsure if she could even hear him.
Her brothers kept glaring at him, but when the Weasley's coffin was lowered into the ground and Ginny started sobbing, he was glad he'd stayed by her. She clung to him and he stroked her hair while they walked towards the castle. No one bothered them, and he'd almost murmured her into a calm state when the screams started. The men ran into the forest and Tom jerked Ginny onto his shoulder, locating his sister in short fashion and dragging her into the safety of the tent village. He'd taken the two women to Miranda and Harry's tent.
"Ginny!" A frantic female voice called from outside. "Ginny!"
Tom ducked outside, "Mrs. Weasley!" The woman looked towards him, her whole body shaking, "I've got her. She's right here."
She followed him, "Ginny!" She cried, falling on her daughter. Molly looked up at Tom, a small, grateful smile on her face, "Thank you."
Tom nodded, taking hold of his sister's hand, "You alright?"
Miranda shifted, "Yeah, did you see where Harry went?"
"He went into the forest with the others." He said, sitting next to her. "They'll be fine."
"Of course they will." Molly said, rubbing Ginny's shoulders.
Ginny looked up, staring directly at Tom, "Thank you, for being there earlier. I was a mess."
"It's not a problem, Ginevra. You looked like you needed someone." He said, trying to downplay how wonderful it had felt to be there to comfort her. There was bustle outside and the four rejoined the weary crowd, Miranda rushing Harry as he and the other non-Aurors returned. Tom shadowed them both, hardly listening to the constant chatter. He could tell Miranda wasn't either, she was too quiet, and he knew without seeing her when she went back into her tent. It took her only a few minutes to pack a bag and convince her husband to go after Fenrir Greyback.
"Why would she do that? Why would she tell him to leave?" Ginny asked him, aghast.
Tom shrugged, "Because she knows how it feels to live your life with regret. He'll be back. Don't worry about your laddy-love."
"He's married to your sister. Besides, I usually like my blokes a bit taller." She looked up at him, "Are we friends now? I mean, you held me while I went nutters at a funeral."
He was her friend, and that was already far more than he'd ever dreamed could happen in reality. He'd take it. Even if he wanted more, there was nothing like the feel of her silky red hair between his fingers. Tom grinned, "Yes, Ginevra, I think we're friends." He didn't point out that he was a head taller than Harry, but he sorely wanted to.