Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am just a very depressed writer of fanfiction.
The aftermath was horrible. So many lives lost. So many tears shed.
There's Always Tomorrow
Chapter 1 – the aftermath
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok
But that's not what gets me
For me, life has ended. The loss of my brother is like the loss of my soul. There is a hole in my heart, a hole that will never be filled.
I had seen Percy chase Augustus Rookwood down the long, ancient corridor of Hogwarts, tears sparkling on my brother's cheeks, and I knew there was something wrong.
Percy never cried. He rarely cried as an infant, instead he would lie in his crib until mum checked on him. Percy didn't cry when he hurt himself, he would simply pick himself up again and continue whatever he was doing. The only time I had ever seen Percy cry was when Ginny lay in the Chamber of Secrets, close to death. We had all cried then.
That was how I knew something was wrong.
I ran and ran. I ran in the opposite direction from Percy, stopping only when I came to a pair of legs.
"No," I had gasped. My fear had been confirmed. There, sitting in a gap in the wall, eyes glazed over, face stark white, was Fred.
I can't remember the rest of that evening clearly. I know that I had absentmindedly carried my ice cold twin to the Great Hall, tears streaming silently down my identical cheeks. I remember that once I had reached the magnificent room Ginny had rushed over to me and burst into tears at the sight of her older brother. I'm pretty sure that I had spent hours sitting and stroking Fred's pumpkin coloured hair, while mum rested on his still chest and Ginny sobbed quietly. And then mum and Ginny, and Dad and Percy and Charlie and Bill and Ron and every other person who had watched me sob at my brother's lifeless body left, but I stayed, I didn't leave Fred. I can remember someone – it might have been Percy, or it might have been Bill – picked me up and carried me away while I screamed my brother, my best friend's name over and over again.
I couldn't sleep that night. I spent the time wrapped in Fred's sheets, on Fred's bed, in Fred's room. I flipped through photo album upon photo album, tears staining the pictures. And then, when I had gone through every possible album, I cried. I lay on Fred's empty bed and sobbed and cried. I called out my brother's name again and again, but there was no reply. I refused to believe that Fred was gone.
The next days didn't improve. I moved back into the Burrow, I couldn't stand to be in my apartment, Fred's apartment. I lashed out. Mum and Dad constantly asked if I needed anything and my frustration built up and up. Three days after Fred's death my frustration was so high that I snapped, I shouted at mum when she had asked me what I wanted for lunch – I hadn't eaten since that infamous night.
"Don't take it personally," I had heard Bill tell mum. After I shouted at mum I ran out of the room and waited at the door, I heard her sobbing. "Don't take it personally, mum," Bill repeated. "George is going through a hard time at the moment. Fred was more then just a brother to George; they were best friends, soul mates. George just lost his identical twin. Just give him some time." And I thanked Bill for that.
No one understood me. I spent my days cooped up in my cramped room, sitting on my bed and leaning against the wall, staring at Fred's bed and reminiscing. Reminiscing about the jokes we pulled on people and the good times we had shared for the twenty years he lived. Twenty years.
Harry helped. He came around to the Burrow two days after the Battle of Hogwarts. He sat on my bed and apologised as if he blamed himself for my twin's death.
"It wasn't your fault," I assured him, teary eyed. "You didn't do anything."
"I was there, though," Harry had admitted. "I was with Percy and him, I could have saved him, if I had of looked. But Fred was laughing, laughing at something Percy had said," Harry's voice broke and I choked back tears. "And then, the next thing I knew he was gone." But Harry knew how I felt; he had lost so many people, and I told him this.
"I can empathize with you," Harry nodded, and he wiped a stray tear off his cheek. "But never, never have I lost someone that meant as much to me as Fred meant to you." And then he got up and left my room.
Harry came back every other day though. He came to comfort Ginny. I had gone to see Ginny one evening after Harry had left. She was a mess. Tear stains decorated her beautiful face, her hair was unclean and dull and the usual sparkle that occupied her brilliant brown eyes was missing. She was distraught, obviously. Fred and I had always been close to her, comforting her when she needed it. And when Ginny finally noticed me she sat up and I moved next to her and we clung to each other, crying until there were no tears left to cry.
Hermione lived in Ron's room. However, mum didn't mind, Ron needed Hermione as much as I needed Fred. And I had heard Ron in the room above me, sobbing loudly into his pillow. I cried too. I cried to myself every night until I choked, and coughed and wheezed and then dad would open the door of my room to check on me, I would pretend to be asleep.
Everything reminds me of Fred. Every tiny thing. I look in the mirror and there he is, there's Fred – minus one ear – staring back at me. I try and avoid him but I can't. I live in his room, his room that is overflowing with my memories of him. And I refuse to give up on him. I refuse to believe he is gone. Because Fred was my everything, and you don't know what you've g until it's gone.
So here I stand, in the orchard behind our house, the orchard that Fred and I, along with Bill, Charlie, Ron and sometimes Harry would play quidditch games in. I had offered the orchard to be made into a cemetery, a cemetery where the people who were lost in the battle would lie as a last resting place. Fred would have approved, and my brothers agreed.
Hundreds of people stand in the orchard today. There was only one funeral for the sixty or so people that had been lost. The funeral was long and as much as it pains me to say this and as disrespectful as it sounds, I have to admit it was tedious. In turn people would talk about who they had lost, it might have been a parent or a child, brother or a sister, or just a friend, sometimes one person would talk about more than one loss, and then it was my turn to talk.
"Fred," I started, my voice magnified so it spread through the whole orchard. "Fred was my twin, my identical twin, and we had a bond that you couldn't even imagine," no one spoke as I did, it was a sign of respect and I was grateful. "I'm not going to drag on about all the things Fred did, because those memories are too painful for me to recall. Fred was a friend above anything else. Whether you were his sister or one of his brothers –" at this I paused and looked down at my family who all had there heads bowed. My eyes lingered for a short time over Ginny who had her hand in Harry's, fingers laced together. "– or whether you had only known Fred for a few hours or a few minutes, he was always there for you." I continued. "Fred was there for me until the very end. I just want to tell you all that if you have anyone, anyone that you care about beyond everyone and everything else, don't take advantage of the time you spend with them, treasure every moment, because one moment might just be your last."
I stumbled down from the stand passing the next person, who was going to talk, but I stopped abruptly and spun around, I felt the eyes weighing down on me but I didn't care. I raised my wand in the air, called out as loud as I could "For Fred" and let fireworks explode from my wand tip.
So the truth is, while I was listening to people drone on about there loved ones I had a type of epiphany. Fred wouldn't have wanted me to grieve, he wouldn't have wanted me to lock myself in our room and sob into my pillow. He always wanted me to be happy.
"Don't dwell on the past," Fred had told me, soon after Sirius had died. We were sitting in our brand new apartment when dad's head had appeared in our fireplace. Dad had told us that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, along with two other friends, had flown to the Ministry and fought a bunch of Death Eaters, Ron and Ginny had been hospitalised but they were alright. And then dad told us about Sirius. "Don't dwell on the past, Georgie," Fred said, wrapping a comforting arm around me. "Don't dwell on the past, when the future is now and the present was just a moment ago." Fred had always been stronger than me, I was weakened at the news of Sirius, where as Fred looked on the bright side. "Well at least now he's with James again," Fred smiled. And he was right.
At the time I didn't understand Fred's words, how could you move on after such a loss? But Fred wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life away as I mourned for him. "Don't dwell on the past," I told myself, and I smiled. I looked to my right and grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her away from Harry and then I looked to the left and took Ron's. I stood up, pushing my way through the people, dragging Ginny and Ron behind me, and as I moved along the row of chairs, Bill stood up, followed by Percy and then Charlie, just like I had hoped. They followed me until I stopped. I stopped at a gravestone, Fred's gravestone. In front of the now-blank gravestone was a large trench-like hole, the exact size of the glossy coffin that lay to the right of it. Coffin, I hate that word so much.
I stood in front of the gravestone just silent, for a moment, and then I pulled Ron and Ginny to my side and wrapped my arms over their shoulders, they did the same. Bill, Charlie and Percy came closer and joined our little Weasley line, and then I spoke.
"Weasley are strong," I called out loudly, the tear tracks on my cheeks shining in the sun. "We aren't going to mope; we're going to be proud and happy. That's what Fred would have wanted."
"Weasleys are strong," Ginny agreed, looking up at me, radiance shining in her brilliant brown eyes, as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
"We aren't going to wake up every morning and cry at the photo of Fred on our beside tables," Ron seemed to read my mind.
"We are going to be proud," Percy spoke. "Proud of what Fred has done."
"That's what Fred would have wanted."
"And we will come here once a year," Bill decided.
"And we will cry."
"We will remember Fred and how we lost him too soon."
"But then we will go home, home to our families, and live our lives as normal," I continued, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. "That's what Fred would have wanted."
I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
Knock, Knock.
"Ginny?"
"Come in," the red-head mumbled, hastily stuffing a tear-stained photo album back under her pillow and pulling her messy hair into a loose bun.
"Hey," Harry said, moving inside Ginny's tiny room and sitting himself next to her on the bed.
"You came," Ginny smiled.
"Of course I did. I promised I would." He wrapped his arm around her; Ginny rested her head on Harry's chest. "I went and spoke to George the other day."
"You did?" Ginny said, sitting upright.
"Yeah."
"Did you speak to him?"
"Yes," Harry said slowly, he was extremely confused. Why was Ginny so interested in the fact he had spoken to her brother? "Why?"
"George doesn't speak to many people anymore." Ginny jumped of the bed, tears sparkling in her hazel eyes. "He came to my room the other night, but we didn't talk."
Ginny had been extremely distressed since Fred's death.
"I don't have a favourite brother," Ginny had tearfully assured Harry the previous day. "But the twins were always there for me, and now Fred –" Ginny didn't continue, she merely sobbed into Harry's comforting arms.
Harry got up off the bed and moved over to Ginny, wrapping his arms around her. "Have you spoken to anyone else?"
"Mum and Dad only," Ginny admitted. "Ron's stayed upstairs with Hermione, he hasn't come out, but I've seen her. I haven't spoken to her, though. Bill thinks it is best if he leaves us to cope with it in our own way. Percy has come in here, but we didn't talk." The Weasleys had all been avoiding each other, in a way. They each stayed secured in their rooms, on their own or with one friend.
"You know what," Harry said, looking down at Ginny and wiping a stray tear off her cheek with his thumb.
"What?"
"Let's go," Harry suggested.
"But the funeral's tomorrow."
"Only for one night." Harry smiled. "Come on." He gripped her hand and pulled her out of the room. Harry led her downstairs and out the back door. Ginny smiled at the feel of a fresh breeze whipping on her bare legs.
"Where are we going? Dad's shed?" Ginny snorted as Harry led her into the rusty shed. The shed was filled with bits of old muggle items. Mostly useless, but Arthur Weasley had always loved his junk.
Harry led Ginny to the corner of the room, where a monstrous motorbike stood in the shadows.
"Isn't that Hagrid's?" Ginny gasped, running her fingers over the muggle device.
"It was Sirius'. It's mine."
"Wow," Ginny smiled, still examining the machine. "Can we go on it?"
"That's the point," Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. "Locomoter bike." The bike rose a few inches of the ground and hovered. Harry led it out of the shed, Ginny following eagerly.
"Do you think Dad will mind that we are taking it?" Ginny asked as they came to a halt just outside the hut-like building.
"I came around the other day and found your dad working on it," Harry said, helping Ginny onto the back of the bike and then, himself, hopping on. "He told me he had finished with it and I could have it if I want. Hagrid has no use for it anymore." He handed Ginny one of the shiny black helmets that hung on the handlebars, and then took one for his own head.
Revving the engine, Harry was just about to start the motor-bike when Ginny asked, "Do you know how to ride this thing?"
"No," Harry laughed. "That's the fun."
"Hermione would have hated that," Ginny giggled as she hopped off the giant motorcycle. After a full hour of flight Harry had landed in a deserted park, about an hour's drive from London. Ginny lay down in the grass, resting her head on her arms. Harry, silently, lay down next to the red-head, wrapping his arms around her bare shoulders. He was cold, but she didn't even shiver.
Ginny rolled into Harry's chest and circled her fingers around it. For a moment the young couple lay there, in silence, but the silence was broken when Ginny spoke.
"Do you think he's up there? Fred?" She said, rolling off Harry's chest and gazing up into the stars.
"I dunno," Harry admitted. "I think he might be watching us, looking down on us. Laughing and joking with Remus and Tonks, and Sirius and my mother and father."
"You've lost so much," Ginny said in barely a whisper.
"Luna once told me that the people we love never really leave us, we'll see them again someday," Harry told her, shifting on to his side, head propped up on his hand, and watching Ginny. "Besides, I've gained so much as well."
Ginny moved back onto Harry's chest and Harry wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," Ginny whispered.
"I love you."
"Gin, wake up. Ginny?" Harry whispered in the sleeping red-head's ear the next morning.
Ginny rolled over, squinting her eyes open, and pushed her messy hair out of her face. She glanced around the room; the walls were an off-white colour, except for one feature wall which was painted a navy shade of blue. The room was rather large; a wardrobe was built into the wall opposite the large queen-sized bed that Ginny lay on. Perpendicular to the wardrobe was a sliding door, covered by two pale blue curtains, which opened onto a small balcony. Next to the door, fastened on the wall was a plain full length mirror. The room was decorated simply; a pale blue rug lay in the centre of the cream coloured carpet. A few pictures lay in frames, decorating the room and on Harry's bedside table was a photo of James and Lily, who was holding a tiny raven-haired baby.
"Where are we?" Ginny asked quietly, sitting up and hugging her knees into her chest.
"My apartment," Harry answered simply. "I bought it a couple of day ago, moved in the other day."
"Wow."
"It's not much," Harry assured, pulling on a pair of black dress pants. "It's only got a couple of rooms: one bedroom, one bathroom, one study, one kitchen dining room lounge room thing. But I figured it was better than the Dursleys'."
"Wow," Ginny repeated.
Harry smiled nervously. "You better get ready, the funerals in at eleven. I brought your dress over." Harry pointed to a pile of black clothes that were folded neatly at the end of the bed.
Ginny headed for the shower. As the hot water rushed down her naked body all of the sad thoughts and feelings from the past week seemed to wash away. All she thought about was Harry, and how much she needed him and how lucky she was to have him. The temperature of the water felt good on Ginny's unclean skin. It felt so good.
"Ron," Harry called to the red-head who was standing by a tree in the orchard. "How are you?" Harry asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Ron was facing the hedge that surrounded the grassy area, one hand above his head latched onto a branch, the other hand clutching a broomstick. Ron glared into the hedge, as if he hadn't heard Harry, then he suddenly turned around and acknowledged that Harry was there.
"Hey Harry, long time no see," He gave Harry a small forced smile and clutched the broom tighter.
"How are you?" Harry repeated, surveying his friend, eyes full of concern.
"I'm fine," Ron lied, showing Harry another one of his prized fake smiles. Harry raised his eyebrows, obviously unconvinced; his eyes lingered over the old broomstick in Ron's hand. "It's Fred's," said Ron who had noticed Harry's interest in the object. "George thought that we should bury him with it." Ron turned back to the hedge, teary eyed. He shrugged and wiped his sore eyes. "At least he's home now."
After three hours of listening to people talk about their loved ones' achievements the crowd of witches and wizards rose, the chairs vanished and the people proceeded to move towards the graves. Harry stood to the side of the mourners, leaning against a tree and painfully watching the people move in a march-like manner, many people were crying, others were just staring into the blank space in front of them, it was an upsetting site.
"How's Ginny?" Hermione, who had been watching Harry, slipped her hand in his and asked about her friend, her voice quivering with worry.
"Haven't you seen her?" Harry asked quietly, turning to the brunette and nervously running his fingers through his hair.
"I went passed her room a couple of times, I hesitated but I didn't go in."
"How come?"
"I don't know how she was dealing with everything," Hermione said, brushing her overlong fringe out of her eyes. "Girls usually take deaths harder than guys and Ron was a mess. Have you seen him?"
"Just before," Harry nodded, wrapping his robes tighter around his body as a large gust of wind swept over the orchard.
"Where have you been staying?" Hermione asked in an attempt to change the subject to a more cheerful topic.
"I bought an apartment in London. I figured I needed my own house."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with anger and excitement.
"I didn't think it was that important seeing the state of things." Hermione sunk to the ground, leaning against a tree, and buried her face in her hands. Harry moved next to her, hugging his knees into his chest.
"I've been comforting Ron all week I never realised that maybe I need comforting too," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "All of these memories of Fred have been running through my head, the moment I met the twins, when they followed us around in second year boasting that you were the Heir of Slytherin, when they grew identical beards during the Triwizard Tournament." Harry smiled slightly. "It was always "the Twins", now it's just George." Hermione wiped a tear off her cheek. "I guess I assumed that Ron needed me more than I needed him." Harry wrapped his arm around her but stayed silent. "Sometimes I think that we failed our task. I mean, so many people died. We didn't want that. But Harry, I'm not used to loss, I don't know how to cope with it." Hermione glanced out into the distance where hundreds of people stood, levitating coffins into trenches and then filling in the holes.
"I still can't cope with loss."
"Hello," the young red-head said as she approached Andromeda Tonks. Ginny had never met Andromeda; however the woman looked amazingly like the infamous Bellatrix; she was also standing at Tonks' grave. Ginny had spent the whole week grieving for Fred she hadn't even thought about her friend Tonks, the closest thing she had ever had to a sister. "I'm so sorry…" Ginny's voice faded off and Andromeda turned around to face the girl. Ginny's eyes flickered to a small bundle in Andromeda's arms. A large gust of wind swept over the orchard and the bundle squirmed. Two tiny arms stretched out of the sheets revealing a tiny baby with a tuft of emerald green hair.
Andromeda glanced down at Teddy and gave the baby a small smile. "I just wish Dora had of been able to see her baby grow up." Andromeda took a deep breath, still watching the child she continued. "When Nymphadora came and told Ted and I that she wanted to be an Auror I tried to advise her against it. I didn't want to lose my only daughter. And then, the other night she told me she wanted to go after Remus, I told her not to leave but she never listened to me." Andromeda ran a slender finger down Teddy's tiny cheek. She kneeled down in front of Tonks' coffin, but her eyes didn't move from the baby's face.
"If there is anything I can do to help," Ginny kneeled next to the older woman. "Harry is Teddy's godfather so if there is anyway we can help–"
"Don't take him away from me," Andromeda interrupted, clutching the infant to her chest and finally looking up. "He's all I have now."
"Of course we won't take him from you, but if you ever need anyone to take him to the Hogwarts Express or to a Quidditch game, we'll be here." Ginny stood and turned around to head back to where Fred's grave was situated, but she stopped when a voice from behind her uttered a sentence.
"I'm sorry about your brother," Andromeda said in a quiet voice.
"Don't be," Ginny told the woman. "Fred wouldn't want anyone to be sorry."
Luna Lovegood was standing at the orchard, staring up into the sky as rain poured from the sky like the tears on Ginny's cheeks. Luna's leaf-green dress was drenched in the fresh water and her long, cold hair seemed to stick to every inch of her body, the slight curve of her hips, her bare arms and the swell of her breasts. Luna was cold, but she didn't show it, she simply stared into the clouds, smiling.
"Luna? What are you doing out here?" Luna turned to see Neville approaching her. Neville was wearing a thick hooded trench coat over his dress robes. As he moved close to Luna she noticed that a large cut on his right cheek had been stitched up, the bruises from the past year at Hogwarts still shone proudly on his face. Neville had changed greatly over the past year, Luna noticed, he was no longer the chubby, easily scared child he had been when he had started the wizard school. Neville had shown leadership skills, he had proved that he was a Gryffindor, through and through. "Are you okay?" Neville asked again.
"Yes," Luna replied dreamily, she turned away from Neville and glanced into the sky once again.
"You should come inside," said Neville. "You could get sick."
"Do you think the clouds are more than just drops of rain that haven't fallen?" Luna asked, ignoring Neville. The boy shrugged. "I think that clouds are beautiful. People always think that when we die we will go to heaven and live on a fluffy cloud. Maybe the clouds are the dead people, looking down on us. Maybe that's why there are so many today."
Neville moved next to Luna and glanced up into the clouds with her for a moment. "We should be inside," Neville decided. "Mrs Weasley says you're more than welcome to go back the Burrow."
"No, I think I'll walk home. It's just past the river over there," Luna said pointing to a thin stream of water in the distance. "Besides, Daddy will be wondering where I am."
"Can I walk you home?" Neville asked politely.
"Oh no, that's okay."
"Then take this," Neville pulled his trench coat off and draped it over Luna's shoulders.
"Thankyou Neville, for everything this year." Luna smiled at Neville and turned around, leaving the boy glancing into the distance, watching as Luna faded into the mist.
And I know you're shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we've lost along the way
And I know eventually we'll be together (Together)
One sweet day (And all that I know is I'll wait patiently to see you in Heaven)
Okay… So after ages I managed to get something uploaded… true I decided to dump my other story after reading Deathly Hallows because everything was just plain… wrong! And even though I dumped that story you can't keep me away from fanfic (even though Zoe is probably going to kill me), and so here is my new story complete with Deathly Hallows spoilers…
The songs were What Hurts the Most by Rascal FlatsI Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aero Smith and One Sweet Day by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men
If you read this chapter, please review, because this chapter I am actually happy with. I will update sometime soon… hopefully, however, I am drowning in homework, well not really, I just suffer from immense writers block at times :)
Anyway, happy reading,
BellaDevil