Hey all!
Sorry it's been a while - I had school, lots of family stuff and then writer's block :p. Thank you to Annegirl, guests, Menagrazie, jilly98, teresakenny, pppemberly, anzicmatjaz, LittleMissBookwormBraniac, miraelvira, ThePurpleWriter25, , Jackie77, fons19, Williukia, 75check57, orihime55, giotacookie, aye it's spoby, Schori123, Gingerheart5, dreamwriter32, JilySoulmate's, HannahStubbsF, , pottergreycastle4ever and anyone I've forgotten for reviewing and favouriting. Anyway, here's the new chapter, I hope you like it!
Chapter 3 – Those Guilty Moments
Going, coming,
Thought I heard a knock
"I'll get it," said Fred, grinning. He turned and ran after the makeshift quaffle, leaving Ginny alone in the hidden orchard where the Weasley's played Quidditch.
She span around in circles, her arms outstretched, happy that at least one of her brothers was playing Quidditch with her. When he didn't return, Ginny began to grow weary.
"Fred?" she called to the bushes. There was no reply. "Fred?"
There was only one thing left to do. She squared her shoulders and ran off after him. She pushed through the bushes, calling his name. He still didn't reply, and she fancied that he was hiding and going to prank her. She kept searching, the bushes never ending. She didn't remember them being as numerous.
She began to grow frantic and moved faster through the bushes. Branches snagged her arms and clothes, leaving behind no blemishes. Finally she came upon a clearing, and in the centre was a golden, twisting staircase. She followed the twists and turns and saw that it led to the sky, it's destination obscured by clouds.
She saw a vivid red head upon the staircase and fell to the floor in pain.
"Ginny," said a familiar voice. Someone was shaking her awake. She opened her eyes and found Hermione standing over her looking worried. For a second Ginny was confused, then she realised that her face was wet and her dream cascaded upon her like a bucket of ice. Before she could help it, her eyes blurred and she began to shake with sobs. Hermione sat down and pulled Ginny into her embrace. She held Ginny until the tears subsided, patting her back soothingly. When she returned to her bed, Ginny realised that her hair was wet.
It wasn't the first time she had shared tears over her lost loved ones – Harry had been the one to comfort her then, his tears joining hers. Until now, he had been the only person she'd cried in front of. She gave a small smile as she remembered last night, when they had prepared dinner together.
Her mother, caught up in grief, had forgotten all about dinner. Upon realising this, Ginny decided to take it into her own hands, and Harry had eagerly volunteered to help her.
"I didn't know you could cook," he told her as they chopped vegetables together.
"Seriously?" she'd replied. "I make the mince pies for Christmas every year."
"Really?"
"Yep. I didn't know you could cook either."
"I specialise in breakfast."
"Then you'll have to make breakfast for me sometime."
"All right."
"And you'll bring it to me in bed."
"Seeing as I'm making the meal, I will dictate where it is brought, your Highness," he retorted grinning. She rolled her eyes.
"And what gives you that right?"
"The fact that I saved your life."
"You also saved everyone else's life," she'd pointed out.
"Do you not live on this earth?"
"No, I live in space."
"If that were true," said Ron as he entered the kitchen with Hermione behind him, "then the world would be a whole lot quieter."
"I have no idea what you mean," she'd said, feigning offence as Harry and Hermione laughed.
"Are you two making dinner?" he'd asked, eyeing the chopped vegetables.
"Yeah," Ginny had replied, "why?"
"Great, we're all going to get food poisoning."
"Oh, shut up," she'd said, holding back a grin.
"Yeah," Harry had said. "It can't be worse than the food we've had over the past 9 months."
"Excuse me," Hermione had said, clearly offended. "I know it was horrible, but I did the best with what we had – oh, shut up," she finished, rolling her eyes, as Harry and Ron started laughing.
It had felt so normal that it was hard to believe that they had just been in a war and lost loved ones. Ginny hated those moments because after they wore off, you felt guilty for laughing and forgetting what you had lost.
She sighed and attempted to go back to sleep. She couldn't. She felt lonely and sad and tired, and as though she had aged 10 years. She sighed again. She pulled back the covers, got up and opened the door as quietly as possible. She tiptoed across the landing and up the staircase to the highest level.
She opened the door and made her way to the second bed. Harry looked so young and peaceful as he slept, his chest rising and falling slowly. She pulled back his covers and slipped in. He stirred as she cuddled up close to him.
"Ginny?" he whispered, making her jump.
"No, it's Ron," she replied.
"I knew it," he said as he turned around to face her. He was grinning as he wrapped his arm around her. "Is everything all right?"
"No," she said, her lip trembling. She breathed and willed it all to stop. "I had a…sad dream."
He nodded and pulled her closer, saying, "It's all right; it was just a dream. I'm here now."
She nodded and cuddled into his chest as though it would make the tears go away. With a little help from her self, they did.
GWHPGWHPGWHP
Breakfast the next morning was a quiet and painful affair. Like every other meal they had shared since the battle, it reminded them all of what they had lost. It was disturbed by a loud 'crack' and Kingsley Shacklebolt appearing at their door.
"Sorry to disturb you all at this hour," he said in his slow, deep voice, "but I am here to discuss F-Fred's f-funeral with you all."
Everyone at the table seemed to freeze simultaneously. The mention of Fred's funeral made his death feel more pronounced than before. Ginny willed herself not to hyperventilate and run outside at the thought. She made herself stand and join the rest of her family in the sitting room.
Ginny sat on the floor leaning against George's leg, and Harry sat next to her. George gave her a small smile and stroked her hair. He looked at Harry, who was watching the scene and smiling, and moved his hand as though to do the same. Instead, he flicked him, and then patted his head in apology. Harry and Ginny chuckled, while George gave a fleeting grin. Kingsley cleared his throat, and their smiles faded.
"Firstly, I would like to discuss F-Fred's tomb with you," he began in his deep, resonating voice. Mr and Mrs Weasley looked at George; his eyes were already glassy and full of pain.
"He will be buried with my brothers," said Mrs Weasley in a hoarse voice. "In a cemetery not far from the village."
Ginny remembered it vaguely as it had been a long time since they'd visited the graves of her uncles. She remembered that it was adjoined to a cathedral-looking church, and was surrounded by trees and rose bushes. She closed her eyes at the tightness in her chest.
Kingsley nodded and said, "The Ministry will be covering all costs and arrangements. No exceptions," he added firmly when Mr and Mrs Weasley opened their mouths. "There is a standard bouquet of flowers, unless there are any requests?"
"I don't know the names of flowers," said George, "but I want it to be bright. So bright it will remind you of fireworks." This was the first time that George had spoken since the battle. Ginny's chest contracted again.
"As you wish," said Kingsley. "There is also a standard style of tombstone, white marble with black writing." He took out a photograph and passed it around.
"It's beautiful," said Mrs Weasley and she wiped her eyes as she passed it on.
It was beautiful; at the top a cross was nestled between roses and their leaves. This design was separated from the writing by a ripple. It was so much to take in, and Ginny had to force herself not to crumble to pieces.
"The inscription will include the standard name and dates and of course your own message."
"Yes, his full name is F-Fred Gideon W-Weasley and he was born on the 1st of April, 1978," said Mrs Weasley, more tears spilling out of her eyes. Mr Weasley wrapped his arm around her as Kingsley took notes, looking pained. When she seemed incapable of contributing further, Mr Weasley took over.
"We would like it to say, 'Loving s-son and b-brother," he said in a wavering voice, and Mrs Weasley nodded.
"And 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'," said George quietly, looking up defiantly. "That has to be on there."
Kingsley nodded and wrote it down. Harry and Ginny looked at each other, and a mutual understanding passed between them.
"And what day would you like?" he asked quietly.
"Next Friday," said George, looking up. "You know, F for F-Fred…"
They all nodded, and Ginny felt a numbness spreading from her brain to the rest of her body. Once everything else was finalized, Kingsley bid them goodbye and left. They returned in silence to the table.
Once everyone had finished, they each drifted off silently to their rooms. Ginny walked ahead of Harry and sat on her windowsill. She looked out across the acres of the Burrow to the hidden orchard where they had all played Quidditch in the summers. It seemed like so long ago that it could have passed as another lifetime. A lot of the past year felt that way…
Harry joined her in silence, glanced out of the window, and then settled for watching her. There were lines of worry and sadness etched in her face that had not been there the last time he saw her. It pained him to see them. Not only did she act like an adult now, but she also looked like one. Her face had matured and her body, whilst thinner than usual, was curvier.
"It doesn't feel real," she said, speaking for the first time and still glancing out the window, "organising his funeral."
"I know," he agreed. It was as though she had read his mind.
"I never imagined that it would be now, you know? Always in some dark and distant future when we were older and prepared…"
He nodded and reached out to stroke her arm soothingly. She turned to face him and gave him a small, sad smile. She grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers. All of a sudden he yanked her forwards to him, making her laugh. She cuddled up to his chest.
"Next time be gentler," she told him, and he chuckled. They fell into silence and then the smile dropped from her face. God she hated those guilty moments.
I hope you enjoyed it! I don't know when the next one will be up, but prepare yourself for funerals…
