Welcome, readers, to another installment of my "No Angel" fic series. A reviewer brought up the fact that I haven't been mentioning my source in every fic. All the songs in this series come from British diva Dido, specifically her album "No Angel," hence the name of the series. Each fic bears the title of the song used in it, which also inspired the story. I don't own the songs, I don't own the characters, but I do own anything that you don't recognize. Enjoy these stories in the spirit in which they were intended.
Thank You: Sun
She hated that she couldn't take care of her "family" any more. Ginevra Molly Weasley had been married to Harry James Potter for almost eleven years now, and everyone that didn't know what had really happened during Harry's final fight with Voldemort thought that Thomas James Potter was Harry and Ginny's flesh-and-blood son.
Ginny knew the truth.
Harry would never touch her in a sexual manner. To him, she was much like a blending of little sister and best friend. He had only married her because… Well, it was rather complicated, in her mind, and it was also why, eleven years after being diagnosed by a Muggle doctor, she was bedridden. Still, she usually managed to sit in her favourite chair and watch her garden for a few hours each day.
My tea's gone cold, and I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all.
The morning rain clouds up my window,
And I can't see at all.
It was a rather bleak morning, with a steady, drizzling rain and heavy clouds, and it was a perfect match for both her mood and her physical condition. She was in quite a bit of pain today—something her medications no longer helped—and it made her poor company, too.
Dear little Tom, approaching eleven and his first year at Hogwarts, had sensed her mood and disappeared into his room once he'd delivered her breakfast. The eggs and bangers were rubbery now, though she'd managed to finish off the mash for a change. The large mug of tea was half-empty, cold, and long forgotten.
She glanced away from the window and its dreary view for a moment, then saw the picture Harry had hung right across from her squashy chair—their "gang" from school. Blaise, Theo, and Draco had been the only official Slytherins, but they had dubbed both Harry and Ginny honorary members of the oft-maligned House once they'd learned the true tales of Harry's first two years at the school. Also waving at her from the frame were Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Fred, and George.
And even if I could, it'd all be grey.
Put your picture on my wall.
It reminds me that it's not so bad,
It's not so bad…
Those ten… well, they'd become all the family she had after Death Eaters attacked the Burrow just before the start of her sixth year. Ron hadn't fared so well in the long run; he'd turned to alcohol instead of his friends shortly after his graduation, and Hermione had finally gotten out of their disastrous marriage just a few months ago.
Still, only Harry knew just how sick she was. Tom dealt, as it was something he'd grown up with, the way he'd always known Ginny.
Sweet little Tom, so unlike his real parents that no one would ever guess that they were related, she thought. She had gotten separated from the main battle group during the running fight through the halls of Voldemort's manor house, and somehow found herself in a room with a massively pregnant Bellatrix Lestrange. Just as Ginny had prepared to hex the woman who had taken her parents and oldest brothers from her, the distended stomach had rippled and torn a scream from Bellatrix.
Severus Snape had charged in then, drawn by the pained cry. After only a momentary freeze, the former professor had helped Ginny deliver the tiny, premature baby boy, then they both stunned the witch. She'd retreated to the Hogwarts infirmary with the child at just about the same time that Harry managed the fatal blow on Voldemort.
Two months, later, she learned what "cancer" meant.
I drank too much last night, got bills to pay,
My head just feels in pain.
I missed the bus, and there'll be hell today,
I'm late for work again.
And even if I'm there, they'll all imply
I might not last the day.
And then you call me, and it's not so bad,
It's not so bad…
She'd missed three days in a row at her relatively new job after her appointment with the Muggle doctor, drinking herself to sleep twice. Harry had appeared the third evening, and she'd broken down all over him. He was still the only person she'd ever told about the ovarian cancer. Not even the twins knew. Nor did Draco.
And I want to thank you
For giving me the best days of my life.
Oh, just to be with you
Is having the best day of my life.
Harry had given up so much for her. He'd given up Draco, for God's sake! And the blond Slytherin was the only person he'd ever had any interest in, beyond a crush. Ginny had watched her "hero" for years, and she probably knew him better than anyone else. She'd never foreseen him giving up the happiness he'd had with Draco to give her a stable home while she tried to fight the cancer.
Then, just weeks after marrying her—him, the man she privately called "Draco-sexual," thanks to his complete lack of romantic interest in anyone else—he had adopted the infant she had brought out of the Dark Manor, who was now healthy enough to survive without Madame Pomfrey's constant care. Both of them knew by then who his real parents were, but harry was determined to give Tom the best life possible.
The boy was quite the charmer, but he was also kind, honest, brave, loyal, intelligent… Ginny could go on for hours, if she had the energy. Tom was turning out quite well, and Harry was a magnificent father.
Push the door, I'm home at last,
And I'm soaking through and through.
Afternoon came, and she slowly, painfully made her way out into her flowers. It was still raining, harder than before, but she didn't care. Something was telling her that this was where she needed to be.
Then you handed me a towel,
And all I see is you.
Some time later, she felt hands help her to her feet and she heard a familiar voice, as though the speaker were far away. Ginny was led into warmth, then felt herself being briskly towelled down. Opening her eyes, her vision was filled with the concerned face of her personal angel.
"Stay with me, Gin. Come on, gel, you can pull through. I know it's been worse lately-" Only for the last FIVE MONTHS… she thought. "-but you've pushed it back before. You can do it again."
"Mum?" Tom's voice asked.
"It's time… for me… to go," she said, forcing the words out between racking coughs.
And even if my house falls down now,
I wouldn't have a clue,
Because you're near me…
"Harry… go back… to Draco. Tom… be good… for your Da…" The coughs got worse, as well as the pain in her gut. She weakly patted the hands supporting her. "Love… you… both…"
Then suddenly, the pain was gone, and she was filled with and surrounded by a warm, comforting light. She could hear Bill's warm, ready laugh, accompanied by Fleur's chuckles. She could smell her Mum's special bread pudding that she'd never learned how to make, and the singed odour that followed Charlie everywhere. She felt her father kiss her forehead.
"Welcome home, my girl. Welcome home," he said, and she knew that there would never again be pain or sorrow. There was only Home.
And I want to thank you
For giving me the best days of my life.
Oh, just to be with you
Is having the best day of my life.
OK, I'll admit that I cried when I wrote/typed the last part. Anyone's death is sad, and more so when that person is loved. I hope I captured that, as well as the relief that might be felt by a suffering person when they pass on. I believe that most people go to a better place when they leave our world, though foul beings like Voldemort and Bellatrix should and probably do go somewhere where they are punished for their deeds.
To those of you who've read my other fics in this series, yes, this is the other side of the story that was seen in "Don't Think of Me." NOW is anyone interested in seeing the ending I have for the situation?
Please do review, whether you liked my story, have a bone to pick with it, or just read my work in general. I thrive on feedback from readers, and it helps me to grow as a writer. Here's my alternative to "Be kind, Rewind!" … Be cool, Review!
Beth Weasley