Author: Sazmuffin
Disclaimer: I own nothinggg.
Title: With Deepest Sympathy
Rating: PG
Ship: slight Harry/Ginny
The wind teased the small, white snowflakes as they fell to the ground, throwing them off coarse. The sky was so grey that it didn't even look like the sky; it looked like one big, sad cloud. The lake was frozen over, covered in thin slices from ice skates. Soggy mittens and fleece jackets littered the Gryffindor common room, hordes of students crowding around the massive fireplace in the west corner of the room.
But not even a crackling fire could thaw out their hearts. Ginny considered herself a human well, only capable of producing tears. Ron seemed to want to transfigure himself into a cockroach, so he could scurry away and pretend it never happened. Harry hugged his emerald green jumper to his face, his tears soaking into the large, gold H in the center.
People told them to move on, that Molly would've wanted it that way, that she wouldn't want them to waste their time grieving over her. But they were met with a cold, hard stare and told to shove off, solely by Ron.
When Hermione ceased to awaken, their knees began to bruise from giving out and crashing to the floor, their throats began to bleed from every tortured shriek, every cry that seemed to echo on for miles.
There is only so much one person can take before they split at the seams. As Ginny's tears were transferred from her face to Harry's hands, they began to walk back to the common room. His arm was around her, gripping her waist as if she were dangling from a mountaintop. Her fingers linked together against his hipbone, her head resting against his shoulder. But when Hannah Abbot had enough nerve to tell her that Hermione had told them long before she died, not to grieve, she cracked.
The Hufflepuff opened her mouth to add to her statement, but the sound was stolen from her voice.
"It's only been one month since my mother - since my mother," she gulped and her tears started to fall, "Since my mother died, and not a week after that, Hermione dies too. What makes you think I should start moving on so soon?"
Hannah winced, shrugging.
"At her service, I listened to people talk about what an amazing person my mother was, when I already knew it. How she left seven beautiful children and a loving husband of over twenty years. But they neglected to speak of all the times she sat up with each of us when we were sick; holding our hands and bringing us soup and kissing our heads and treating us like we were infants again. Or how she was a grandmother, or how she made us new jumpers every year, or how she loved Harry as much as she loved all seven of us. They didn't bother to mention how much she loved my father or all her academic achievements."
Ginny's throat was burning and tears soaked her clothing. Hannah looked taken aback, her mouth agape with surprise. A small crowd had gathered and Harry looked around nervously.
"But the worst part? Three words, three simple words that have almost no meaning, no passion, no care at all were ringing in my ears like the bells of Notre Dame. With deepest sympathy. Oh, and don't let me forget Hermione's service. They told of a seventeen year old girl who was extremely talented at school. How she got amazing marks. They didn't speak of Harry, or Ron, or me, or any of us. They didn't say that she was responsible for almost every plan of attack during the battle, or that she was madly in love with my brother, but you know what they did mention? That she was a muggleborn, that her parents were dentists. They didn't regard her or my mother was war veterans, as they should've done." Ginny stared at Hannah defiantly and then added, "So, if you don't mind, please don't tell me what they would've wanted. Because I really don't care. I'm not ready to move on. I miss them and I'm not going to stop missing them just because countless people have told me to."
Ginny pulled Harry along with her, as they made their way out of the crowd. He stopped her as they rounded a corner, and engulfed her in a tight, bear hug. Her feet rose a few inches off the ground and she felt her shirt grow slightly wet. When Harry released her, he gave her a close-mouthed smile and nudged her cheek with his nose.
She took a deep, shaky breath and leaned against him. Her hands gripped his cloak and her forehead rested against his chest. Harry took her tiny body in his arms and kissed her head. With this, Ginny took the first steps toward moving on.