p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Ginny didn't sleep that night. There were too many thoughts spinning around her head to succumb to sleep, even without the nightmares that had plagued her dreams for years now. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The final battle had been gruesome and gory. Lavender Brown's body had been mutilated by Greyback in front of her very eyes, and Ron's ex-girlfriend was one of many. After Voldemort's summoning of Harry into the Forest, she had run outside, hoping to find him and stop him, but the dying people, too far gone to hold on to hope, had stopped her. For what had felt like eons, she had tried to comfort and sooth the dying, and then she and others had unceremoniously tried to carry the corpses into the Great Hall. There were so many bodies; mutilated and torn apart by spells and actions alike, both before and after their former owners had meet their painful ends. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She still remembered the noises of the castle…the screams of pain, of anger…people screaming out spells, or warnings, or shouting the names of the people they loved in anguish...and the smells; the stenches of blood and death had filled the castles, seeming to hang in the air like smoke. Then of course the burning rubber smell of the fires, and the dusty broken stone and rubble, and the surreal smell of the grass from the lawn as people trekked in and out./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw death. She wondered vaguely if Harry ever felt this way. For months after he had rescued her from the Chamber back in her first year, she hadn't been able to sleep without her dreamless sleep potion. She had avoided her family, too, out of guilt and embarrassment. She pondered about why she didn't seclude herself now…she supposed because this was too raw. Being possessed, even by someone as vile as You-Know-Who himself, seemed like nothing compared to the last year, even though it was more personal, and more violating. She mulled it over, and realized it was because it had happened to her. It was easy to accept her first year rather than everything Harry had gone through over his lifetime; she understood it, and it happened to her. She was far more comfortable dealing with it personally rather than try to figure out how to act normally around people that were going through tough times but also be sensitive. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" But, as selfish as it made her feel, it wasn't the Battle she was thinking about. It was her family. Her mother's death, yes, but she was consciously trying not to think about Mum. It was just…too painful. She wanted to face her Mum's death when she was ready to devote herself fully, both mentally and emotionally – Mum deserved that. So, she swallowed her guilt, and pushed it aside./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Her immediate concern was Dad. She couldn't imagine Dad without Mum; it just didn't make sense. Dad and Mum, Mum and Dad…they were a team. One didn't happen without the other. They just…didn't. As she lay in bed, she realized that Dad's life had just been turned completely upside down, even more so than her own. For the first time ever, he'd be living alone. Not immediately, of course; she'd be here, and even if Hogwarts reopened, and then if she decided to go back, she seriously doubted Ron would go back, and she was sure she wasn't the only one of her siblings who would be making Dad their priority. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She didn't like thinking about Percy's situation, how horrible he must be feeling. She was afraid of being empathetic – it was just…icky. She felt sick, imagining walking out on her family, being such an ass for almost three years, and then barely reuniting with your family only for your mother to be murdered in cold blood in front of your very eyes. She decided to try to figure out a way to help Percy…but she couldn't think of anything. So, for now, she put that out of her mind, too. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She wondered if she'd ever find out what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been up to over the last year. She wondered if it even mattered. They had left…but with good reason…but they could have taken her with them!...at least she had been able to help at Hogwarts…and at least she had spent the time she had with Mum. She'd always cherish that…But she deserved to go with them! She had done just as much in the last few years as Ron had! She was just as good at dueling! She groaned; it was too confusing. She had so many conflicting emotions, and she was too exhausted to work through it all. Physically, mentally…it had been a long three years./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Gin – Ginny! Come on, it's time to wake up," Charlie was saying, and Ginny shot upright, grabbing her wand from the bedside table, breathing heavily. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. She nodded to Charlie, who smiled sympathetically at her and then walked out of her room. She fell back in the bed, trying to slow her breathing. She stared around the room, now bathed in sunlight, despite the thin pink curtains. It seemed so innocent, so naive; the pale pink walls, the posters of Gwenog Jones and the rest of the Holyhead Harpies. It seemed stupid, how defensive she had gotten when she had defended the all-girls team to her brothers. It had seemed so important, proving girls were just as good as boys. What did it matter now?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Her bedding and her pillows were pink, too, with little pale purple and yellow flowers. Her parents had always been so excited to finally buy girl things; they must have been disappointed when she would come in just as muddy and dirty as the boys. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The room was small, though that didn't really bother Ginny anymore. Her bed was pushed against the wall farthest from the door, and a wardrobe against the adjoining on, across from the window. She had a desk in front of the window, overflowing with various pieces of parchment, broken quills, and old textbooks. She forced herself out of bed, ignoring the familiar ache that came with little sleep and not eating well, and flung open the crooked doors of the wardrobe. She leafed through the various shirts, shorts, and dresses, sighing angrily. None of these clothes would fit anymore, and second-hand clothes like hers didn't hold up well under tailoring charms. Giving up, she grabbed an old dress, deciding in was in good enough shape. She slung it over her arm, grabbing some underwear too, and went crossed the hall to the bathroom, which was thankfully empty. She locked the door (a lesson learnt long, long ago) and striped off her clothes from yesterday, stepping into the shower. Since she was the last on up, there was – of course – no hot water left. Trying to ignore the freezing cold, she cleaned herself up as quickly as possible (shaving for the first time in weeks, after deciding she needed a new beginning), and jumped out. She cast a quick warming charm on her towel, wrapping it around her gratefully. She noticed she had managed to knick her legs several times, and swore quietly. Healing herself, she toweled off and pulled on her clothes. She brushed her teeth, half-heartedly ran a brush through her long hair. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Throwing her dirty clothes in her room, not really caring where they ended up, she went back downstairs. Everyone else – even Dad, though he didn't seem very present mentally – was seated around the kitchen table, talking quietly. When she sat down in the middle of the twins, Bill nodded to her and stood up to speak. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We need a plan," He said, and everyone quieted to listen to him./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Yes," came Dad's hoarse voice. Everyone turned to stare at him in surprise. "We do." Dad cleared his throat. "Mum and I talked about what would happen if…if what happened happened," He said. Ginny was glad he was speaking, but she almost wanted him to stop – his voice seemed cold, dead. He seemed to want to say more, but nonetheless fell silent. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We need to plan Mum's funeral," Bill said, and the pain in his eyes and voice was obvious. Fleur reached out and held his hand, and Ginny saw him squeeze it gratefully. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "It should be here," Ginny said. She had been thinking about it, and it just didn't feel right for Mum to be buried in the Ottery St. Catchpole cemetery. They barely ever went into the town. Mum was the Burrow, and the Burrow was Mum; it was only right. "It's not…it should be here." She turned red as she noticed everyone staring at her. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Gin's right," Fred said, and Ginny sent him a grateful glance as he put an arm around her. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Yeah, Mum should be buried here," George agreed. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "It's what she'd want," Fred pointed out. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "She was always happiest here," Charlie murmured in a low voice. "Around her family." Dad nodded once, though Ginny saw his eyes were full of tears. Percy and Ron nodded their agreement too, and Hermione and Harry looked comfortable, and Fleur was smiling softly. Bill nodded./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "When?" He said, and everyone was silent. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Thursday is the seventh," Ron put in out of nowhere. With everyone else, Ginny turned to stare at him, and Ron turned red. "And there's seven of us…" Ron muttered, and Bill cleared his throat. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Sure," He said quietly. "The seventh sounds…that works." There was silence in the kitchen as everyone tried to come to grips with the fact that this was real; they were burying Molly Weasley. She was gone. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We'll bury her in the flower garden," Dad spoke up, his voice still heavy with his loss. "In the morning."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Andromeda told me that Remus and Tonks were going to be buried in the muggle cemetery where she lives. It's were Ted is, and since the wizarding world never really welcomed Remus anyway…" Harry trailed off, turning pink as everyone turned to look at him. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Did she say when?" Charlie asked. "I'd like to be there." Ginny remembered suddenly that Tonks had been Charlie's friend back when he was at Hogwarts. They'd hadn't been close like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but more like her and Colin… Colin, who was dead too. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. How many people had died through the war? Tonks was like her sister…hopefully, she hadn't seen Remus die. That would have broken her heart. But maybe she had; maybe poor Teddy's parents had seen each other die and known their son would be left an orphan. It must have been terrifying for them; the ultimate torture. Ginny swore to herself that Teddy would grow up loved. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Saturday, I think," Harry said. "I'm going too."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Me too," Ginny said immediately. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We'll all go," Dad said, cutting off everyone else's agreements. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Lavender Brown's funeral is on Sunday," Hermione said quietly. "Her parents told me before we left. I think we should go, Ron."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Why?" Harry said in confusion. "They broke up ages ago. Doesn't she, like, hate him?" Hermione thumbed him on the back of the head, and Ginny smiled despite herself. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Because it'd be nice for him to go pay his respects, even if they did break up," Hermione scolded her friend. "And even though we were never close, we did live together for six years."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I think you should go," Ginny said, nodding her head. Hermione smiled at her support, and nodded. Ron shrugged. "Colin's funeral is that day too."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Creevey?" Harry said, sitting up straight. She nodded, and Harry paled. The next half hour consisted of the rather morbid conversations of whose funeral was when, until eventually they all fled the grief and disappeared to various parts of the house. Harry had gone out for a walk, and with Hermione's encouragement Ron followed him./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I think I should go to muggle London," Hermione said as both girls sat down on Ginny's bed. Ginny waved her wand, and a camp bed appeared in its' usual place. Hermione had always slept in her room, and the girls had become close friends over the years. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Why?" Ginny said, surprised. Hermione shrugged. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I need to buy some clothes. At the very least, something black. I don't really have anything appropriate for…" Ginny nodded in understanding, staring at her closet of too-small clothes. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Me neither," she muttered. She glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost noon. "We should go make lunch," She said, though she didn't feel very hungry. "None of my brothers know how to cook." Hermione laughed, but it sounded empty, strained. As they walked downstairs, Ginny wondered if they'd ever recover from the war. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The vegetables Ron and the twins had scavenged from the garden the day before needed to be washed and cleaned, but without going to the shops yet there was not meat in the house. Ginny bit her lip, trying to decide what to make that would satisfy the hunger of eleven grown witches and wizards, when a sudden crack made her jump. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Kreacher!" Breathed Hermione in relief, and Ginny groaned. Why was she so jumpy today? She was home, You-Know-Who was dead - wasn't she supposed to be able to relax now?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Kreachers brings food for misses," the old house elf croaked. Ginny stared at him for a second - how had he known they needed food? But then she smiled. This was the first thing all day that had gone well. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Thanks, Kreacher," she said warmly, taking in the baskets that he had magicked onto the kitchen table. "That's wonderful. Really, thank you." Kreacher looked at her hestitantly, but then nodded and disappeared. Ginny went over to the table and looked in the baskets. There was bread, cheese, fruit, eggs, milk, ham, chicken, even potions ingrediants - more than she had dared to hope for. She beamed at Hermione - maybe the end of the war wouldn't be a life of misery and guilt after all. Maybe the world could still grow, planting the seeds of prosperity in the lieu of sacrifice. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; min-height: 13px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; min-height: 13px;"_/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Harry sat with his back against a tree overlooking the creek at the end of the Weasley's property. Ron sat a few meters away, looking uncomfortable as he turned his wand over in his fingers, occasionally casting a spell on the grass. Harry's thought's were a jumbled mess; he was too mentally exhausted to even begin to understand them. He was tired, and he still didn't really believe that the war was over. How many more death eaters were out there? What if they targeted the Weasleys or someone else in retaliation of his defeat over Tom? /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" And in the back of his mind, buried under his fears for the future and his regrets from the past, Harry missed his parents and Sirius and now Remus more than ever. He had seen them, had been almost able to touch them - for a second, he thought he would be able to join them. He was glad, of course, to be alive...be a tiny part of him was sad about it. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" As he looked over the fish and the insects playing in the creek, his thoughts turned to a fiery red haired which, and he smirked slightly. It didn't surprise him one bit that she had taken control, bossing around her big brothers. Ginny was the type of girl that saw a problem and fixed it, never mind waiting for someone else to take charge. He had missed her the past year; not a day had gone by that he hadn't wished he was back at Hogwarts, sneaking out of the common room for some snogging. He wondered what she'd be doing now - what any of them would do now. How could they move on? He'd been so focused on winning the war, he'd never really considered what would happen if it actually happened. What did he want to do? Go back to Hogwarts? Could he really do that after all the memories of the war?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" He didn't know the answers. He didn't know how to put his life back together - he wasn't even sure there was a life to put back. His whole life had been about defeating Voldemort; it had been the only reason he was alive since he was a baby. What was it Snape had said? "A pig raised for slaughter"...what did he do now? Was it possible for someone like him, a marked man, to go back and have a real life? Was he capable of love, of having normal relationships, after all he'd been through, or had he served his purpose, left now to fade into the background? /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" So Harry just sat silently in the shade of the tree, watching the sun dance on the water below. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The final battle had been gruesome and gory. Lavender Brown's body had been mutilated by Greyback in front of her very eyes, and Ron's ex-girlfriend was one of many. After Voldemort's summoning of Harry into the Forest, she had run outside, hoping to find him and stop him, but the dying people, too far gone to hold on to hope, had stopped her. For what had felt like eons, she had tried to comfort and sooth the dying, and then she and others had unceremoniously tried to carry the corpses into the Great Hall. There were so many bodies; mutilated and torn apart by spells and actions alike, both before and after their former owners had meet their painful ends. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She still remembered the noises of the castle…the screams of pain, of anger…people screaming out spells, or warnings, or shouting the names of the people they loved in anguish...and the smells; the stenches of blood and death had filled the castles, seeming to hang in the air like smoke. Then of course the burning rubber smell of the fires, and the dusty broken stone and rubble, and the surreal smell of the grass from the lawn as people trekked in and out./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw death. She wondered vaguely if Harry ever felt this way. For months after he had rescued her from the Chamber back in her first year, she hadn't been able to sleep without her dreamless sleep potion. She had avoided her family, too, out of guilt and embarrassment. She pondered about why she didn't seclude herself now…she supposed because this was too raw. Being possessed, even by someone as vile as You-Know-Who himself, seemed like nothing compared to the last year, even though it was more personal, and more violating. She mulled it over, and realized it was because it had happened to her. It was easy to accept her first year rather than everything Harry had gone through over his lifetime; she understood it, and it happened to her. She was far more comfortable dealing with it personally rather than try to figure out how to act normally around people that were going through tough times but also be sensitive. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" But, as selfish as it made her feel, it wasn't the Battle she was thinking about. It was her family. Her mother's death, yes, but she was consciously trying not to think about Mum. It was just…too painful. She wanted to face her Mum's death when she was ready to devote herself fully, both mentally and emotionally – Mum deserved that. So, she swallowed her guilt, and pushed it aside./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Her immediate concern was Dad. She couldn't imagine Dad without Mum; it just didn't make sense. Dad and Mum, Mum and Dad…they were a team. One didn't happen without the other. They just…didn't. As she lay in bed, she realized that Dad's life had just been turned completely upside down, even more so than her own. For the first time ever, he'd be living alone. Not immediately, of course; she'd be here, and even if Hogwarts reopened, and then if she decided to go back, she seriously doubted Ron would go back, and she was sure she wasn't the only one of her siblings who would be making Dad their priority. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She didn't like thinking about Percy's situation, how horrible he must be feeling. She was afraid of being empathetic – it was just…icky. She felt sick, imagining walking out on her family, being such an ass for almost three years, and then barely reuniting with your family only for your mother to be murdered in cold blood in front of your very eyes. She decided to try to figure out a way to help Percy…but she couldn't think of anything. So, for now, she put that out of her mind, too. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" She wondered if she'd ever find out what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been up to over the last year. She wondered if it even mattered. They had left…but with good reason…but they could have taken her with them!...at least she had been able to help at Hogwarts…and at least she had spent the time she had with Mum. She'd always cherish that…But she deserved to go with them! She had done just as much in the last few years as Ron had! She was just as good at dueling! She groaned; it was too confusing. She had so many conflicting emotions, and she was too exhausted to work through it all. Physically, mentally…it had been a long three years./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Gin – Ginny! Come on, it's time to wake up," Charlie was saying, and Ginny shot upright, grabbing her wand from the bedside table, breathing heavily. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. She nodded to Charlie, who smiled sympathetically at her and then walked out of her room. She fell back in the bed, trying to slow her breathing. She stared around the room, now bathed in sunlight, despite the thin pink curtains. It seemed so innocent, so naive; the pale pink walls, the posters of Gwenog Jones and the rest of the Holyhead Harpies. It seemed stupid, how defensive she had gotten when she had defended the all-girls team to her brothers. It had seemed so important, proving girls were just as good as boys. What did it matter now?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Her bedding and her pillows were pink, too, with little pale purple and yellow flowers. Her parents had always been so excited to finally buy girl things; they must have been disappointed when she would come in just as muddy and dirty as the boys. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The room was small, though that didn't really bother Ginny anymore. Her bed was pushed against the wall farthest from the door, and a wardrobe against the adjoining on, across from the window. She had a desk in front of the window, overflowing with various pieces of parchment, broken quills, and old textbooks. She forced herself out of bed, ignoring the familiar ache that came with little sleep and not eating well, and flung open the crooked doors of the wardrobe. She leafed through the various shirts, shorts, and dresses, sighing angrily. None of these clothes would fit anymore, and second-hand clothes like hers didn't hold up well under tailoring charms. Giving up, she grabbed an old dress, deciding in was in good enough shape. She slung it over her arm, grabbing some underwear too, and went crossed the hall to the bathroom, which was thankfully empty. She locked the door (a lesson learnt long, long ago) and striped off her clothes from yesterday, stepping into the shower. Since she was the last on up, there was – of course – no hot water left. Trying to ignore the freezing cold, she cleaned herself up as quickly as possible (shaving for the first time in weeks, after deciding she needed a new beginning), and jumped out. She cast a quick warming charm on her towel, wrapping it around her gratefully. She noticed she had managed to knick her legs several times, and swore quietly. Healing herself, she toweled off and pulled on her clothes. She brushed her teeth, half-heartedly ran a brush through her long hair. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Throwing her dirty clothes in her room, not really caring where they ended up, she went back downstairs. Everyone else – even Dad, though he didn't seem very present mentally – was seated around the kitchen table, talking quietly. When she sat down in the middle of the twins, Bill nodded to her and stood up to speak. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We need a plan," He said, and everyone quieted to listen to him./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Yes," came Dad's hoarse voice. Everyone turned to stare at him in surprise. "We do." Dad cleared his throat. "Mum and I talked about what would happen if…if what happened happened," He said. Ginny was glad he was speaking, but she almost wanted him to stop – his voice seemed cold, dead. He seemed to want to say more, but nonetheless fell silent. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We need to plan Mum's funeral," Bill said, and the pain in his eyes and voice was obvious. Fleur reached out and held his hand, and Ginny saw him squeeze it gratefully. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "It should be here," Ginny said. She had been thinking about it, and it just didn't feel right for Mum to be buried in the Ottery St. Catchpole cemetery. They barely ever went into the town. Mum was the Burrow, and the Burrow was Mum; it was only right. "It's not…it should be here." She turned red as she noticed everyone staring at her. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Gin's right," Fred said, and Ginny sent him a grateful glance as he put an arm around her. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Yeah, Mum should be buried here," George agreed. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "It's what she'd want," Fred pointed out. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "She was always happiest here," Charlie murmured in a low voice. "Around her family." Dad nodded once, though Ginny saw his eyes were full of tears. Percy and Ron nodded their agreement too, and Hermione and Harry looked comfortable, and Fleur was smiling softly. Bill nodded./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "When?" He said, and everyone was silent. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Thursday is the seventh," Ron put in out of nowhere. With everyone else, Ginny turned to stare at him, and Ron turned red. "And there's seven of us…" Ron muttered, and Bill cleared his throat. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Sure," He said quietly. "The seventh sounds…that works." There was silence in the kitchen as everyone tried to come to grips with the fact that this was real; they were burying Molly Weasley. She was gone. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We'll bury her in the flower garden," Dad spoke up, his voice still heavy with his loss. "In the morning."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Andromeda told me that Remus and Tonks were going to be buried in the muggle cemetery where she lives. It's were Ted is, and since the wizarding world never really welcomed Remus anyway…" Harry trailed off, turning pink as everyone turned to look at him. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Did she say when?" Charlie asked. "I'd like to be there." Ginny remembered suddenly that Tonks had been Charlie's friend back when he was at Hogwarts. They'd hadn't been close like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but more like her and Colin… Colin, who was dead too. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. How many people had died through the war? Tonks was like her sister…hopefully, she hadn't seen Remus die. That would have broken her heart. But maybe she had; maybe poor Teddy's parents had seen each other die and known their son would be left an orphan. It must have been terrifying for them; the ultimate torture. Ginny swore to herself that Teddy would grow up loved. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Saturday, I think," Harry said. "I'm going too."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Me too," Ginny said immediately. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "We'll all go," Dad said, cutting off everyone else's agreements. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Lavender Brown's funeral is on Sunday," Hermione said quietly. "Her parents told me before we left. I think we should go, Ron."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Why?" Harry said in confusion. "They broke up ages ago. Doesn't she, like, hate him?" Hermione thumbed him on the back of the head, and Ginny smiled despite herself. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Because it'd be nice for him to go pay his respects, even if they did break up," Hermione scolded her friend. "And even though we were never close, we did live together for six years."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I think you should go," Ginny said, nodding her head. Hermione smiled at her support, and nodded. Ron shrugged. "Colin's funeral is that day too."/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Creevey?" Harry said, sitting up straight. She nodded, and Harry paled. The next half hour consisted of the rather morbid conversations of whose funeral was when, until eventually they all fled the grief and disappeared to various parts of the house. Harry had gone out for a walk, and with Hermione's encouragement Ron followed him./span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I think I should go to muggle London," Hermione said as both girls sat down on Ginny's bed. Ginny waved her wand, and a camp bed appeared in its' usual place. Hermione had always slept in her room, and the girls had become close friends over the years. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Why?" Ginny said, surprised. Hermione shrugged. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "I need to buy some clothes. At the very least, something black. I don't really have anything appropriate for…" Ginny nodded in understanding, staring at her closet of too-small clothes. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Me neither," she muttered. She glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost noon. "We should go make lunch," She said, though she didn't feel very hungry. "None of my brothers know how to cook." Hermione laughed, but it sounded empty, strained. As they walked downstairs, Ginny wondered if they'd ever recover from the war. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" The vegetables Ron and the twins had scavenged from the garden the day before needed to be washed and cleaned, but without going to the shops yet there was not meat in the house. Ginny bit her lip, trying to decide what to make that would satisfy the hunger of eleven grown witches and wizards, when a sudden crack made her jump. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Kreacher!" Breathed Hermione in relief, and Ginny groaned. Why was she so jumpy today? She was home, You-Know-Who was dead - wasn't she supposed to be able to relax now?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Kreachers brings food for misses," the old house elf croaked. Ginny stared at him for a second - how had he known they needed food? But then she smiled. This was the first thing all day that had gone well. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" "Thanks, Kreacher," she said warmly, taking in the baskets that he had magicked onto the kitchen table. "That's wonderful. Really, thank you." Kreacher looked at her hestitantly, but then nodded and disappeared. Ginny went over to the table and looked in the baskets. There was bread, cheese, fruit, eggs, milk, ham, chicken, even potions ingrediants - more than she had dared to hope for. She beamed at Hermione - maybe the end of the war wouldn't be a life of misery and guilt after all. Maybe the world could still grow, planting the seeds of prosperity in the lieu of sacrifice. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; min-height: 13px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; min-height: 13px;"_/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" Harry sat with his back against a tree overlooking the creek at the end of the Weasley's property. Ron sat a few meters away, looking uncomfortable as he turned his wand over in his fingers, occasionally casting a spell on the grass. Harry's thought's were a jumbled mess; he was too mentally exhausted to even begin to understand them. He was tired, and he still didn't really believe that the war was over. How many more death eaters were out there? What if they targeted the Weasleys or someone else in retaliation of his defeat over Tom? /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" And in the back of his mind, buried under his fears for the future and his regrets from the past, Harry missed his parents and Sirius and now Remus more than ever. He had seen them, had been almost able to touch them - for a second, he thought he would be able to join them. He was glad, of course, to be alive...be a tiny part of him was sad about it. /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" As he looked over the fish and the insects playing in the creek, his thoughts turned to a fiery red haired which, and he smirked slightly. It didn't surprise him one bit that she had taken control, bossing around her big brothers. Ginny was the type of girl that saw a problem and fixed it, never mind waiting for someone else to take charge. He had missed her the past year; not a day had gone by that he hadn't wished he was back at Hogwarts, sneaking out of the common room for some snogging. He wondered what she'd be doing now - what any of them would do now. How could they move on? He'd been so focused on winning the war, he'd never really considered what would happen if it actually happened. What did he want to do? Go back to Hogwarts? Could he really do that after all the memories of the war?/span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" He didn't know the answers. He didn't know how to put his life back together - he wasn't even sure there was a life to put back. His whole life had been about defeating Voldemort; it had been the only reason he was alive since he was a baby. What was it Snape had said? "A pig raised for slaughter"...what did he do now? Was it possible for someone like him, a marked man, to go back and have a real life? Was he capable of love, of having normal relationships, after all he'd been through, or had he served his purpose, left now to fade into the background? /span/p
p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" So Harry just sat silently in the shade of the tree, watching the sun dance on the water below. /span/p