A/N: Again I feel like I haven't posted anything in ages. So here it is. Another something for you all. This one's dedicated for those little things that makes you flip out more than you should.

Bitter and cold. That's what it felt like. You'd never really understand if you hadn't ever known the sort of fierce bitter cold that you feel once you find out. Our hope had gone.

The hope that kept me thinking, everything will be all right, because, in the end, he would save us all.

Sure, I worried for his life, and the life of my family. What he put them through. How he unintentionally hurt people, just by risking his life the way he did.

He never really understood that cold bitterness that can only be thawed by fire. Fire didn't seem to come for a while though. Not for any of us. He was our fire; in the same way he was our hope.

I had once believed that laughter was the cure for sadness. Heaven knows the twins told me so. But really, although laughter can cure sadness for the briefest amount of time, nothing can really cure the cold bitterness.

Ginny feels it. She often wanders in the bitter winter snow, as though physically freezing herself will thaw her, but it doesn't. I look at her now, through the frosted glass that my window has now become.

Her red hair is shining through the bleakness that reminds us all so painfully of the bitter cold. The cold that seems to never die.

But Ginny's alright now, and although it's hard to think that she healed herself without me, she did so. And although she does not think of herself as strong, she is. Anyone who can come out of this is.

But, I lied, there is one thing that can cure this bitter cold. To make it melt away to memories and thoughts. It is what Ginny has given to me now. A smile. Amazingly enough it cures the bitter cold. Because of two reasons.

One, because my daughter, the one that has pushed so hard through this, has come out wounded, but walking. And her being warm and almost thawed, gives us all hope.

The second is just that. The knowledge that knowing that not all hope is lost. Because maybe, he wasn't our hope. It was the idea of him saving us all that made him our hope. And it's only the dream that has been lost. Because really, it's all hope that the bitter cold will melt and warmth will seep through.

But there always has to be a patch of that fierce bitter cold, because then, we wouldn't remember the sadness it caused us, and the dream that died.