Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, all characters and such belong to J.K. Rowlings brilliant mind.
Chapter One
I lifted my head off mums shoulder, looking down at my hands I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks. My mind was blank, all I felt was numb. Relief, I willed it to come, but I couldn't feel anything, just emptiness. I closed my eyes, letting it fill me up.
Although I thought I had just briefly closed my eyes when I looked around the severely damaged Great Hall, a large portion of families had disappeared and the sun had now risen and began to fall again. I turned my head curious to see who was still there, Neville was sitting at the far end of the table with his Grandmother admiring Godric Gryffindor's sword. Professor McGonagall was standing at the doors talking to an elderly man, the Hogs Head bar man, McGonagall looked as old as ever, her eyes were red and her cheeks were tear stained, her usual knot was now loose and her clothes were distinctly disheveled. My eyes roamed over more familiar faces, but not the one I was searching for, the one I hungered to see. Mum was leaning on dad holding him as his arms were wrapped around her, her whole frame was shaking, I could hear faint whimpers, Dad was looking straight ahead, his eyes red and puffy. Bill was sitting with his hands in front of him on the table, tracing something etched on the table absentmindedly. I was almost scared to look at George, I didn't want to think, and I was sure he would trigger everything to come flooding back. Eventually I couldn't help myself, I looked up at George's face, he was staring out one of the shattered windows, his eyes were blank, and his face showed no emotion. And yet he looked broken, diminished almost, the way he just stared, it was almost worse than seeing him cry.
"George..." I was shocked that I had even been able to utter a word, I instantly wished I could have taken it back. He tore his eyes away from the window and looked down at me, the moment our eyes met my entire body went cold, my lips trembled as my eyes began to prickle, tears began spilling out hard and fast. I wanted to say something to him, anything, I wanted to comfort him in anyway I could. But how are you supposed to comfort someone, when all you want is to curl up and let others console you, when all you want is to just let go. I was sick of being brave, sick of being strong, it was too hard. And even though I didn't say a thing it was as if he knew what I was trying to do, he gave me a weak smile that didn't reach his frozen eyes, and turned to look out the window again. My head became heavy, my vision now completely obstructed by tears I closed my eyes and rested my head on George's shoulder, I felt his arm wrap around my small frame and pull me closer. Grey clouds churned and swam behind my eyelids, and I heard myself let an almost inaudible Why? out. I felt George's eyes look back down at me, and felt his whole frame begin to shake, as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
When I opened my eyes again, I looked up to see dad directly above me, this was extremely confusing until I realized he was carrying me. "Dad? You can put me down." He looked down at me almost surprised, smiled and set me down on my feet. I looked around, we were standing in the Entrance Hall, the marble staircase had been blown apart and the ceiling was only partly there. Cold spring air was blowing through the open doors, I closed my eyes and let the simple freshness wash over me.
"Come on Ginny" Bill had his hand on my arm and was gently pulling me forward, we walked through the doors and down onto the grounds, then I saw them. Three figures standing by the lake, my pace quickened, my heart fluttered as I grew nearer, I looked down and realized I was running. I stopped abruptly ten feet behind them. I guess the rest of them had been running too, because mum raced by me her voice ringing out. "Ron! Oh Ron!" Ron turned around just in time, as mum threw her arms around him crying into his chest. "Don't you... How could you... Why on earth!" Was all you could hear as she continued to sob. Ron looked alarmed but also extremely relieved. The sight would have been amusing at any other point but in this case it was extremely understandable, none of us had seen Ron, Hermione or Harry in nearly a year. Harry. I snapped my head away from Ron and Mum. He was looking directly at me, his emerald eyes instantly filling my body with what I craved most; relief. I didn't know if he was moving towards me or if I was moving towards him, but all of a sudden I was in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent, my cheek pressed against his shoulder. And in that moment it was if he had taken the burden of everything off my shoulders, the pain, the fear, the emptiness, now lifted off me, leaving nothing but warmth.
Everything went black, I was being pressed very hard from all directions; I couldn't breathe, there were iron bands tightening around my chest; my eyes felt as if they were being forced back into my head; my eardrums were being pushed deeper into my skull, and just when I thought I must suffocate, the iron bands released and I gulped in great lungfuls of air. I let go of dads arm, and took a step back, I staggered and almost slipped but caught myself in time. "Never again." I said to no one in particular, rubbing my eyes. I heard the faint pops as the rest of my family apperated next to me. I looked up to see Auntie Murial's house, standing just as it had before the battle. It was slightly larger than any of the other houses on the street, not that there were many. The paint was peeling and turning a dull gray colour, the curtains were all drawn shut, the house would not have looked more welcoming if you tried. The rickety old fence creaked in the wind and the over grown grass swayed as if reaching for the sky. A great sigh escaped my lips. I had wanted to go straight home, I hadn't been to the Burrow in ages, I just wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep. Another pop, I turned to see Harry clutching onto Hermione's arm, and Ron holding Hermione's hand. Harry dropped her arm and turned to look at the house, Ron however continued to hold her hand as he whispered something in her ear. I smirked to myself, finally, was all I could think. I strode over to Harry's side and slipped my hand into his, he smiled as he looked down at me. "So this is Auntie Murial's house?" His voice was quite and just audible for me to hear it, "Mhm, I wish we could have gone home though, I miss it so much."
"You'll be able to get your stuff, and besides you're going home tomorrow." Typical Harry I thought, when will he learn? "We're going home tomorrow." I corrected him. His eyes shone for a moment, he squeezed my hand as the front door of Auntie Murials' flew open. "I've been hearing things all day! Is it over? Is it really over? Is he dead? Is You Know Who really gone?" Auntie Murial was teetering down the path towards us, her voice was raspy as she demanded to know the details. "Yeah." Harry's voice was bold and prompt. "ARGH! Harry Potter? Arthur is that Harry Potter?" Auntie Murial clutched her chest, now drawing in wheezy breaths, she didn't wait for Dad to respond as she lurched over to where Harry had stiffened next to me. She drew up next to him, barely coming up to his chin. She looked at his face almost hungrily then roughly brought her hand up and held back a clump of Harry's hair as she examined his scar. "Harry Potter." she whispered. "Yes, you will be the one to tell me all about it boy, yes now all of you follow me, your making a great bloody scene." Her voice had become harsher as she addressed the rest of us, you'd think we were the ones shouting about Harry.