Ginny sat with her back to the window, the heat of the rising sun slowly making its way up her bare arms as she wrapped them around herself. Once again she had been barely able to sleep. As always she had started the night off fairly well, but soon enough the all too familiar nightmares had begun to plague her again. She woke up some time after midnight and once again had found it impossible to slip back into peaceful slumber. After a few hours of trying only to find fitful sleep and dark images waiting for her she had given up all together, which seemed to have become her nightly routine.
She sighed deeply to herself as she rose to her feet and decided to begin her morning routine now. Grabbing her wash bag and the clean cloths she had placed at the end of the bed the night before she headed to the bathroom. At least at this ungodly hour she wasn't likely to be disturbed. The last thing she needed right now was one of her brothers to walk in on her.
But then again as she reached the bathroom she realised that was going to become less and less likely soon. Fred and George had been spending more and more time in the flat over their shop, only really coming home because their mother still insisted on feeding them up. It was inevitable that they would move out there, even if it was taking them one piece of clothing at a time to do it. Above all of it though she knew their reluctance wasn't at leaving the Burrow, but at leaving her. Most of the family didn't want to let her out of their sight for very long, and she could understand that even if she hated being watched constantly.
As she closed the door, making sure to lock in securely behind her, she began to think over the past few years. Things really hadn't turned out the way she had hoped. She had always known that Harry and her were meant to be, something inside her had always held on to the idea, even if she had tried to deny it. But that had become even more apparent in the last few days of the war.
Ginny shuck her head suddenly trying her hardest to stop the memories that were beginning to flood in on her. If she let them take control again she would be sucked back into the bleak existence that she hadn't long clawed her way out of.
She knew the gapping whole in her chest where her heart had been would always be there, but she also knew that no matter what she had to go, that Harry would have wanted her to.
"Harry," she sighed as she lent her head against the cool bathroom mirror.
So instead of thinking of the darker moments she tried to pull up happier memories. How he smelt the first time he had wrapped her up in his arms, how he had made her heart skip with just a smile. The way he would always bite his lower lip when he was deep in thought and of course how his lips felt as they pressed against hers. If she thought hard enough about that she could almost feel her own lips tingling as if he had just pulled away from her.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself she opened her eyes again and stared at her own reflection. More and more she wasn't recognising the person that stared back at her every morning. She had long ago lost the baby fat that had given her slightly rounded checks, but now they seemed to become more and more angular everytime she caught her reflection. Her once shinning brown eyes were now sunken into the sockets giving her a slightly haunted look. Worse of all though was her once flaming red hair that Harry had loved so dearly, was now limp and lifeless, falling in untamed waves down her back.
She wished above all else that if she couldn't have Harry back then she could at least have the girl that he loved back, but she knew that was a long process that she was just at the beginning of.
Once again shaking her head she began running the water into the basin, happily watching as her reflection was reduced to nothing but a flesh toned blob as the mirror steamed up. She plunged her hands into the searing water marvelling in the fact that she could feel anything at all, even if that feeling was pain.
But soon enough her blissful oneness was shattered with a knock at the door.
"Ginny are you going to be long I've got to get to work early this morning I have a tonne of paper work to get through."
Ron, the one brother who just didn't seem to get the hint and move out. He'd been out of school now for nearly four years but he still insisted on living at home, even though Ginny knew it grated Hermione like nothing else could.
"Leave me alone Ron I got here first, I'll be done when I'm done," she barked at the closed door picturing the sour look on her older brothers face.
"Other people live here to," he snipped back as she stormed away.
She couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that. He chose to live here, she didn't. After Harry had died things had been so bleak for her that her life had completely fallen apart. She had stopped eating and drinking, really not doing much of anything, and for a while it got so bad that her mother had had her committed for her own welfare they were so worried that she would die from the grief.
But as always they had pulled her kicking and screaming back into the real world, and part of the conditions of her release from hospital was that she had to stay with her family so they could make sure she was taking care of herself.
She hated being babied, she was far from a child now. She had learned that you needed to grow up fast to survive, and sometimes that didn't even help.
"No, I won't slip again. I will not think of that," she told herself sternly as she went about getting ready for the day.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom Ron was stood leaning against his door his arms crossed impatiently and a thoroughly sour look etched across his face.
"You'd think growing up with us would have taught you to share," he snapped as she passed him.
"Don't like it, move out, I know it would make everyone a lot happier," she threw over her shoulder as she headed back to her room.
She slammed the door on any response he could come up with and slumped down on the bed. Picking at a loose thread in her jeans she began to plan out her chores for the day. This was part of her routine now, a way to cope with every day life. She threw herself into anything she could get her hands on that allowed her not to think and didn't look back. She wouldn't be able to cope otherwise.
She settled on doing the washing first, she knew it was one of the jobs her mother hated to do the most since the twins still dropped off their washing once a week. So grabbing the washing basket from besides her door she headed back towards Ron's room.
"Any washing," she called through the door as she tapped lightly.
Hermione soon appeared looking a little worse for wear as she did each morning, with a basket of clothes ready for Ginny to take. Unfortunately Hermione never had mastered controlling her hair completely and now it stuck up in all directions well and truly tussled from sleep.
"I think there's more somewhere but you know how Ron likes to hide his washing. I'll bring it down when I find it."
She closed the door abruptly before Ginny could reply, not from rudeness but from sleepiness. Ginny knew that Hermione still hadn't gotten used to Ron's very loud snoring and the creaks and moans of the house. Plus the occasional screams coming from Ginny's room never helped.
Balancing the two heavy basket she made her way downstairs, almost falling twice, and dumped the washing heavily onto the floor in the kitchen. Her mother was already hard at work cooking food for the family and as always Ginny wondered how her mother always seemed to be so together in the mornings.
"I've got bacon keeping warm in the oven so if you want some grab it now, Fred and George are feeling lazy today so they'll be here for breakfast soon."
Ginny crossed the kitchen counting the plates set out at the table as she went. The places were set for seven so that could only mean that her father was eating with them today. Part of her was happy to see her father since it was so rare lately, but another part was very apprehensive.
In the beginning after Harry's death her father had had really no idea how to handle a daughter that was grieving so deeply for the loss of her love. He had fumbled over what to do around her and things really hadn't changed much. He bounced from treating her like a little girl, to not even making eye contact, and as strange as it seemed she preferred the no eye contact. She'd rather have the no eye contact then be treated like a child again.
As she settled into her seat with a nice pile of steaming bacon Fred and George burst through the door in all their noisy glory. From what she could pick out they were arguing about some new product that they were testing out in their store. They didn't even pause in their argument as they crossed the kitchen and kissed their mother on the cheek before seating themselves expectantly at the table.
Ginny ignored her boisterous brothers and began eating her breakfast, just as Ron emerged still looking disgruntled.
"I don't have time for breakfast now," he sniped shooting a dirty look in Ginny's direction, "but I would love a sandwich for on the go."
Their mother was already holding out at pre-wrapped bacon and lettuce sandwich before he had even asked.
She always seemed to know what was needed before it was even needed. Ginny loved that about her mother, she was in her element with her children around, and all she needed now was plenty of grandchildren. Which she hinted at constantly to any of the boys that would listen.
Soon enough breakfast was in full swing, and over the clatter of plates and cutlery normal conversations could be heard. Even her father seemed to be in a good mood when he finally joined them. Ginny even threw in a few words every now and then whenever she could think of something to add, but soon enough being around so many people began to tire her out. She didn't have the head for crowded rooms anymore and she soon excused herself.
With a quick kiss on her mothers cheek and a promise she would be back soon to do the washing, which Fred and George were delighted about, she made her escape up the stairs into quieter territory. Soon enough the noise from downstairs turned into nothing more than background noise and Ginny could hear herself think again.
She decided to do some work in her room until everyone cleared out later after breakfast and then she would carry on with her chores. But as she pushed the door open to her room everything was washed from her mind but the sight that she was greeted with.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, as if he had always belonged there and had never left, was Harry.