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Part IX
The majority of the guests had left and only a close-knit group was left in the family room following Fred's wake. Everyone was sprawled around the room. Harry was lying back against the fully occupied couch. Ginny was reclined against him between his legs. His fingers running through her hair in repetitive soothing motions, occasionally his fingers would flick over her cheek to catch fallen tears. He had let her out of his arms only when she was headed directly to the arms of her family, determined to help her through this. But right now she was making his whole body shake with the waves of her laughter.
"And so I asked Fred," Charlie continued laughing, "'Did you make Mum's Witch Weekly disappear?' And he looked up at me with those fake innocent eyes, he must have been like six or seven, and said 'no, I didn't make them disappear.' 'Fred what did you do?' I asked, and he giggled at me and pointed to the rug in the corner. I walked over there and sure enough the magazines were all lying there with rug-camouflaging covers. I asked him why he hid Mum's magazines and he opened up the magazines to a picture of Gwenog Jones modeling the newest swimwear and began," Charlie was laughing so hard now he took a deep breath and continued, "petting the scantily clad witch and said, 'because she's so pretty.' I took the magazine from him and flipped to a picture of her in her full Quidditch gear and said 'You think she's pretty?' I mean, come on, he was so young. 'Yes,' he said, and he flipped back to the page of her modeling swimwear, 'but she's prettier here'."
"He wouldn't be the last Weasley to disguise contraband, but he was certainly the youngest," murmured Bill and another roar of laughter ensued.
George stood up so suddenly that he caused the chair he was sitting in to knock over.
"It's not fair!" he yelled as tears formed in his eyes. "I don't understand why this happened. He and I were never supposed to leave each other. That was the deal. And I know, I know, this is what he'd want. He'd want us to tell all of his funniest stories and laugh through our tears and then be happy. I know that's what he'd want, because that's what I would want. But damn it, why couldn't have it been me? Why did he have to die?!"
George's outburst abruptly killed the laughter and the silence left in the room was suffocating. George continued to pace. "How are we supposed to do this? How are we supposed to move and be happy about the war being over? How are we supposed to go back to normal? Do you know that today marks the longest period of time I've ever gone without him. Two days! That's the longest I've ever gone without talking to him. I'm not prepared for this. I don't know how to handle this."
Mrs. Weasley made to move to him, but he pulled back abruptly avoiding her touch.
"We were supposed to be the ones to help everyone through their grief. We had already started making pacts about how to help people go past all they lost. We made this big formal pact on how we were going to make sure we helped Ginny if . . .if. . ."
"If it were me?" Harry asked quietly.
"Well yes, it did seem likely, didn't it?!" George threw out haphazardly. "Not him, no . . . We were supposed to help people be happy again. It was the whole point of a joke shop. I wasn't supposed to be the one grieving, not like this. I was going to help people, not be the weak one who would yell at his family."
Ginny got up and walked to George. When he didn't back away, she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "It'll be alright, big brother. I miss him too."
George turned his tear stained face to her, the one sibling, besides Fr--, that he would always listen to. "Really? How can it possibly ever be alright?"
"George, the ones who love us never really leave us." She repeated what Harry had said to her, sending him a quick, small, smile over George's shoulder. George finally just succumbed to his grief and held her tight. Bill got up and clapped a hand on George's shoulder. "I think we should all get some sleep," he said leading George out of the room.
Ginny's remaining brothers soon engulfed her. In one silent moment, they all collectively agreed to take on the task of helping George through this.
"Yes. Off to bed all of you," Mrs. Weasley said through her tears.
"You heard your mum, get going," Mr. Weasley said wrapping his arms around his wife.
Ginny looked to Harry and they both hesitated. Maybe if they just waited until everyone left, they could . . .
"Ginevra Weasley. Off to bed, your own bed. When was the last time you slept there?" Mrs. Weasley asked rhetorically hoping sleeping in her own bed might bring Ginny a sense of comfort.
They all had the good sense to quickly follow Mrs. Weasley's order and meandered up to bed for some much need rest.
*****
Harry tossed and turned fruitlessly trying to get more comfortable. He thought he was fine, that he was dealing with everything . . . but every time his eyes closed, one horrible image after another filled his memory. He felt weak. He pulled the sheet tighter to him, as if that could protect him. If only all those stupid Ministry workers and reporters could see him now, maybe then they'd stop treating him like some awe-inspiring hero to worship and see him for what he really was, a scared and sad barely of age wizard. What was worse was that now he could vividly imagine what Death Eaters would do if they ever got their hands on Ginny. He'd even had a random nightmare about her being tortured and taunted while shackled in a dungeon for detention. It had felt as real as the rest of his memories.
Everything in him screamed to go find Ginny. But no, he couldn't, he should be able to spend one lousy night on his own. He shouldn't bring her down with him. She didn't need to share his pain. She was probably peacefully sleeping in her own bed. Harry sighed turning his head to stare out the window; he felt a strange tingling under his skin and a growing urge to rush over to Ginny's room, but he resisted. He would not give into his own weakness.
With the first glimpse of the sun, he was out of bed. He thought he might as well make breakfast again. Anything to avoid the quiet empty space that let his thoughts and memories roam free.
Busying himself with the task of cooking for the whole clan gave Harry's restless mind a tiny reprieve. He focused on the tasks before him enjoying the smell as his stomach growled appreciatively. With a tired sigh, he leaned against the counter and then felt something poking him in his back pocket. He reached in and found a folded piece of paper that Kingsley had given him.
"A list," Kingsley had said after the meeting, "Of funerals that you were requested to attend. I'm not saying you should go to them all . . . It just didn't seem right to not pass on the requests."
Luckily only Fred's was yesterday, but following that, there were more than three a day. Some names he knew all too well, others he had never met. There was something about seeing a black and white list before him that made the pain in his chest intensify. It seemed so cold, so matter-of-fact. He didn't even notice that he was shaking until the list fluttered to the floor. He tried to take deep breaths, but the enormity of what had happened kept hitting him, like the persistent bite of winter wind. He could hear his breathing become strained, but he couldn't get control of it.
Hermione pushed her way into the kitchen. "Harry!" she exclaimed, worry and panic permeating through the still quiet house. Ginny came running before Hermione was even over her shock. She reached Harry and framed his face in her hands.
"Deep breath," she said looking straight into his panicking eyes. A shuddered gasp for air was the only response. "Slow breath in," she said again more earnestly, drawing in a slow breath herself. He matched her breathing and gradually began to feel normal again. Ginny let her forehead fall to his, one hand fell to his heart.
"I'm sorry," he croaked.
"Shhhh. Don't apologize." They both were frozen there, just listening to the sound of their slow synchronized breathing.
"Harry, you don't have to do this," she said as she bent to the ground and picked up that godforsaken list.
"Yes," he replied, gently removing the list from her hands, "I do. If these people can get some sort of closure by me being there and talking to them, who am I to deny them that?" he asked softly.
"It's not up to you to save everyone."
"I know," he said letting his exasperation out with a sigh, "I just . . . I have to do this. I can be strong for them."
"Okay, I'll come with you then," Ginny replied simply.
"No, Gin, I don't want to drag you there because you're worried about me. I'm fine, really. I can handle this."
"Handle this!? Harry, you were just hyperventilating. You are going to need more than a week to move past all the grievances of the last few years. Besides, you don't have to handle this anymore, not alone." Her earnest face caught him off guard and he almost gave in.
"Ginny . . . I just need to do this on my own. I'll be back by dinner okay? You stay with your family."
Ginny wanted to argue, but she knew he had his back against the wall. She idealistically wanted him to come to her when he needed help, not constantly force her help down his throat.
"Okay," she finally replied. He leaned down and gave her a swift kiss and then walked upstairs to get ready. Completely forgetting the breakfast he had just prepared, as well as,his growling stomach, he Apparated away from the Burrow without another word to anybody.
**** *
"He's trying to protect me!" Ginny said, but her tone indicated only her anger at this fact as she flopped haphazardly onto her bed. "I thought I had set him straight . . . That we had reached an understanding . . . It's been days, he's not sleeping, he's not eating well. All he's been doing is attending those funerals, saying what's expected and taking in their pain like it's his own personal purgatory. I don't know what to do," she continued, anger instantly abating to sadness. She looked at Hermione, "you know as well as I do how stubborn he can be. I just . . . I want to make him better, happier. He deserves that."
"He really does," Hermione replied. "But he's not going to get over trying to protect you; you're going to have to live with that."
"No," corrected Ginny. "I'm going to have to work with that."
Hermione chuckled. "Well at least he found his match," she mumbled. "How are you doing with everything? You two have gotten so close so fast and now this strange connection thing . . ."
"Actually, in all the stuff that's happened in the last few months he and I are what makes the most sense."
"I know what you mean." A devious smile spread across Ginny's face.
"So, dish. How are things?"
Hermione turned red faced and looked to the ground. "You're his sister," she attempted to object.
"I'm your friend," Ginny countered. "Who else are going to share with . . . Harry? Oh that'd be a trip."
Hermione sighed, and rolled her eyes, "Everything is going well. I mean, I hope eventually we can have a semblance of a normal relationship, you know, like actually go on a date. But for now, having someone who is there for you so completely, certainly makes this easier. Besides, Ron is pretty good, surprisingly good, at the other stuff."
"Like comforting stuff? Really?"
"Well yes, he does always know what to say to me. But that's not what I meant . . ." Hermione let the sentence hanging adopting Ginny's previous devious smile.
"Oi! Remember that sister thing." They were laughing as Ron knocked on their room's door.
"What are we talking about?" he asked as he sprawled across the floor.
"You," Ginny replied. Ron, looking scandalized, turned to Hermione accusingly. She just shrugged. Ron growled deeply and pounced on Hermione's bed tickling her mercilessly.
Ginny shook her head in amusement. It seemed her dear old brother didn't have to search for Hermione's most tickly spots. Finally Hermione fought back in the only way she knew. She wrapped her body around his firmly and kissed him with abandon. The tickling stopped immediately. Ginny laughed aloud. Ron slid his lips away from Hermione's reluctantly.
"Why don't you go find Harry," he said pulling himself and Hermione back into a sitting position.
"I think I might," Ginny said with a weary sigh. "He's going to Colin Creevey's funeral, thankfully the last of them all, today, maybe I'll join him. Then I'm not going to 'help' him. I'm going to be at a friend's funeral."
"He's at another funeral?" Ron asked sobering up. "We've got to do something about this."
"Believe me, I know," Ginny mumbled. "Let's go." Determination filled her eyes and the tone of her voice. There would be no argument.
*****
The three Apparated to the Creevey doorstep, Ginny, side-along with Hermione. They were immediately ushered in by Collin's mother. She smiled at them through red-rimmed eyes.
"Oh good. More of Collin's school-friends, come in, come in." The room was filled with scattered groups of people. The walls were adorned with colorful displays of photographs. Many heads turned as they entered, and the quiet room grew quieter. Dennis ambled up to them and Ginny turned to embrace him.
"I'm glad you are here. Collin would want you to be here. I just want to make sure that everything today goes like he would want it." His voice trailed as if he was growing weary from all the fake optimism streaming out of his mouth.
Ginny tilted her head to catch his eyes, "Dennis. . . How are i you /i doing?"
He gave her a shaky smile, opened his mouth and then the fake smile slipped. Under Ginny's concerned gaze he reluctantly admitted the truth. "Not so good. He was my best friend. My big brother. But he died doing what was right, fighting for what he cared about. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. Is Harry coming? I really hope he does. It would have meant so much to Collin. Plus, with him here, it's easier to remember that some things are worth fighting for, you know?" The three looked surreptitiously at each other starting to grasp why Harry was putting himself through this everyday.
"Come look at the walls, I put up a bunch of Collin's pictures." The three followed Dennis to a wall of pictures that featured mostly photos of DA members. Ginny's hand went automatically to the photos in front of her. It was a small display of pictures of her and Harry. There was a photo of them in the common room, their first kiss, and another of the two of them on the grounds leaning against their favorite tree. Ginny was snuggled closely between Harry's legs. Their heads were tilted just enough for them to look into each other's eyes. Ginny sighed, he had been so distant these last few days. She missed him.
"The service will be out back in the garden if you want to go find a seat," Dennis said wearily.
As they entered the garden, they found themselves surrounded by DA members. They all seemed to naturally aggregate together and the three of them were greeted with enthusiasm.
"Where's Harry?" someone asked after a while. Just then, from the far end of the garden came the distinctive, 'pop' of Apparition and Harry appeared. He staggered noticeably as he dizzyingly tried to focus his suddenly blurry vision.
Ginny rushed over to him and offered him a steadying hand. "Ginny," he said in an exhaled breath, a weary smile briefly graced his features. As he wrapped her in his arms
"Harry? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he responded quietly, withdrawing not just physically but emotionally as well.
"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.
"Umm. . ."
"Harry! You came!" exclaimed Dennis and everyone immediately turned to stare at him. Ginny watched as Harry immediately pulled himself taller and tried to shake the weariness off his face. Mr. and Mrs. Creevey approached him first.
"Oh, Harry, it's so nice to finally meet you," Mrs. Creevey said.
"With all the stories and pictures from the boys, we've heard so much about you. I'm so glad you came. It would mean so much to us and to Collin if you would say something during the service."
"Of course," Harry replied, and perhaps only Ginny could hear the exhaustion there. He gratefully took her hand as she led him to a seat. The spark that came from their clasped hands went unnoticed by both of them.
*****
Harry stood in front of them all, giving his umpteenth eulogy. But from the words flowing out of his mouth no one would have known it. His speech did not have a tired repetitive feel at all, but, he spoke kindly about Collin's life and sacrifice. Nearing the end he said, "I always admired Dennis and Collin, two brothers who were so close, not affected by the gap in their ages. They always . . ." Under the setting sun Harry staggered, and clenched the podium in front of him turning his knuckles white. His faced paled. Hermione gripped Ginny's arm tightly to keep her in her chair. They exchanged a pained expression. Harry took a deep breath, "They always brought such life and energy to the DA. Collin, we will miss you." Harry walked slowly and deliberately back to his seat.
*****
"Where'd Harry go now?" Hermione asked Ginny. Ginny just nodded her head to where Harry was still fielding crowds of people wanting to thank him, talk to him, and gleam comfort from his presence.
"He's going to make himself sick," Hermione complained.
"He already has," Ginny said quietly as she watched Harry excuse himself and head into the house.
Harry carefully extricated himself from the crowd. His head was pounding, his vision blurred, eager to avoid the crowd, he stumbled into one of the bedrooms in the house, feeling weaker and weaker. As soon as he was alone, he succumbed to his weakness, leaning forward onto his knees with both hands he breathed slowly trying to get over his dizziness. He loosened his tie and stumbled over to the bed.
"Damnit!" He cursed as he stumbled into the bedside table. Too weak to fight the momentum, he fell to the floor and dropped his head to his hands, as he crumpled to his knees. He was so angry with himself for this weakness. He realized not too long ago that he wasn't taking care of himself, but now he couldn't even stay on his feet.
"Oh, Harry," Ginny said softly rushing over to him. The one person in the whole world that he wanted right then, the only one whom he would let see him like this, in his most vulnerable of moments, came to him and he was grateful. He rose up on his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach. She immediately leaned over him to thread her fingers into his hair.
"Harry, it's alright." He started to shake and drew in a shaky breath. "I just wish you'd let me help you."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said his voice muffled by the fabric of her black dress.
She dropped to her knees in front of him, bringing their faces level. "I know. But you have to take care of yourself," her voice screamed her sincerity as she held his face in both her hands, "you have to let me in. I just want you to be happy and healthy."
He smiled tiredly. "I just . . .I don't want to bring you down with me. I don't want to weigh you down with my baggage," he whispered.
Ginny face clenched with concern. "How you are feeling and admitting you need help to get through something is not baggage," Ginny stressed, "I love you, Harry. We are together in this, in everything. I am NOT your fair weather friend."
He didn't know how to respond, so he just kissed her tenderly. The sweet kiss was prolonged to make up for the lost time of the last few days. "I love you too."
"I understand why you've been going to these things. I get it, I do. But Harry, of course, it's going to take an emotional toll on you. It's hard to realize exactly how many families have been affected." Harry nodded.
"It's not just that, I just . . ." he trailed off and looked away.
'"Tell me," she said softly.
"It's going to make you angry . . ." The look in her eyes evoked his response despite his reluctance. "I want to do what I can, and if attending these funerals makes this easier for anyone, it's worth it. But it's just so hard. . .They all want to thank me and praise me, but all I want to do is beg their forgiveness for not acting sooner or faster. How can you not hate me?" He demanded suddenly. "Had I been more clever, Fred wouldn't . . ."
"Oh, Harry. You cannot do this. No one person can take on this burden. You have to let this misplaced guilt go or it will consume you. You ARE NOT responsible for everyone's death. It all falls on Riddle's shoulders. You are the one who made it all stop. You did the impossible. You saved us all. You can't blame yourself for not saving us faster. Harry, that would be impossible."
Harry took in her words as the healing balm they were, desperately clinging to their truth. He could feel himself begin to recover, but he was of no illusion that this would be a fast process. His hand went to her hair running his fingers through it. "I've missed you. I haven't been sleeping well without you in my arms."
"Well we'll have to see what we can do about that. But my arms are ready and willing right now. Why don't you sleep some now, you look like you really need it."
He chuckled. "Maybe we should just go home."
"After that dizzying Apparition I don't think so. At least some food; there's plenty to eat out there." Harry's gaze followed her nod to the door.
"No," he said in a whisper as he got shakily to his feet holding Ginny's hand in his own.
"What?" Ginny asked.
"Who," Harry responded gruffly as Rita Skeeter sauntered into the bedroom.
"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, her lioness streak flashed warningly.
"You would make a dreadful reporter I'm afraid, your question lacks any specificity. You'll never get the goods that way . . ." Rita admonished. "If you mean here in this room, well then the answer, silly girl, is obvious, I just received a whole new chapter for my new book and several juicy pictures to match."
"New book?' Harry asked wearily.
"Why yes, I'm writing your biography," She said with a smile. Harry groaned.
"Which brings me to other part of why I'm here. I'm hoping to procure some photos of you from the Creeveys."
"No, you will leave this family alone." Rita's look screamed her unspoken, 'yeah right'. "Please, just not today, leave them alone today."
"Time is money, Mr. Potter." Harry just shook his head. "How about an interview?"
"No."
"No," Both Harry and Ginny responded without a breath of hesitation. "We were just leaving," Ginny said in her best fake sweet voice.
Ginny managed to snag Hermione and Ron and ask them to Apparate both her and Harry back.
"Ginny, seriously I can Apparate home."
"No," she responded resolutely and then she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, placing both hands just above his waistband, "Splinching is too much of a risk in your state. There is not a single part of your body that I am willing to do without." The seductive tone of her voice squelched any other latent complaints.
"Back to the Burrow, home."
