It took her ages to get the damn cat in the car. Every time she picked Jem up and put him in the backseat, he mewled loudly and jumped out. Ginny was too frightened of accidentally slamming the door on him to try and close the car door quickly.
"Alright, you brought this upon yourself," Ginny said sternly and with a brief Petrificus Totalus, Jem was stiff as a board and easily placed into the car.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said regretfully, "but I really don't have the time."
He glared at her.
She drove over to Hermione, Ron and Harry's. Harry and Ron were nowhere in sight, but Hermione was lazing in the back garden, hiding amongst the hydrangeas and reading a book.
"Oh, hullo, Ginny, I – oh!" Hermione leapt up, her book falling away. "What happened to your poor cat!"
"What? Oh." Ginny started laughing and explained as she carried the motionless cat inside. Hermione laughed and removed the spell, the two cat-lovers watching as he sniffed and wandered his way around the kitchen.
"He's a friendly little fellow," Ginny said companionably. "He'll be alright here."
"Of course. Are you sure you don't want to keep him at your apartment?"
Ginny smiled softly, sadly. "He's better off here."
"Well, he'll always be your cat, you know. He's just moved house, that's all."
"Of course." Ginny looked back at the pile of belongings Hermione had cleaned out and packed into a cardboard box. "What's that?"
"Oh, that's all the things people left behind here last summer. I'm just cleaning it out. They always said they'd come back next time to pick them up, but you know," Hermione shrugged. Yes, thought Ginny. Everyone just gradually stopped visiting.
"What happened?" she said aloud. "Everybody was forever in and out..."
"Oh, yes, but we're all busy now, trying to climb up the career ladder," Hermione shrugged. "But we still see everyone at quiz nights."
"I suppose," Ginny murmured. "Where're the boys?"
"Oh, they went off to a Quidditch match," Hermione said. "They'll probably go to the pub afterwards, I won't see them til nine o'clock tonight." She checked her watch. "Anyway, I've got to rush off, I'm afraid. Promised my parents I'd drop in at three, to help clean out the attic and have a cup of tea."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have owled ahead," Ginny said. "I didn't mean to hold you up."
"Oh, no, that's alright. I've really got to run – you're alright to show yourself out," Hermione said, grabbing her purse; she threw a handful of powder in the fire – it flared up green – she jumped in and gave a brief wave before disappearing from sight.
Ginny stood alone in the kitchen. The fire had gone out – Hermione had charmed it so as soon as all of the household members were absent, it automatically doused itself.
Ginny looked around for a moment, taking in the messy kitchen – the fridge with humorous magnets, the cup-rings covering the island counter, the spilt cereal by the stovetop.
"Well," Ginny said. "I suppose this is goodbye, Jem."
She bent low and patted him softly, enjoying the feel of his round, warm little head fitting against her palm; then she quietly went out the back door, clicking it shut gently behind her.
She sighed. She had the urge to run again – only this time not to run away, but to run to catch up. Sometimes it felt like her friends were always just around the corner.
Blaise told them he was having a birthday bash, and they were all invited.
"Maybe," Harry said cautiously; Draco was discreetly pulling no-no-no faces at him.
"I'd love to come," Pansy said brightly. If there was a party, Pansy would be there. She was amazing, a non-stop party girl. Sometimes they needed to keep an eye on her though, make sure she didn't Do Anything Stupid, which she tended to do a lot. Hermione politely inquired about gifts. "Just bring me a bottle of good white rum," Blaise said.
"There's no such thing as good white rum," Ron retorted, and a fight quickly ensued, ending with Blaise punching Ron.
"Blaise!"
"It was a girly punch anyway," Ron sneered, rolling up his sleeves.
"Fucking bring it!" Blaise roared. Draco began to get extremely edgy. After the Battle, he seemed particularly eager to avoid violence, to the point of not even reading books with mentions of violence in them. Lavender, too, seemed anxious. Harry glanced around casually, looked quickly at Blaise – and the next moment, Blaise was lolling, apparently unconscious, in his chair.
"What happened!" Hermione jumped away from him as though he was contagious. However, after a moment, she looked suspiciously at Harry.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Harry said. "It was only a little Stunning spell. He shouldn't try to pick fights with Ron anyway."
"An under-the-table Stunning spell. Very moral of you, Harry," Hermione said dryly, but didn't seem to particularly mind.
"I could've taken him on," snapped Ron. "And won."
"Don't be so sure," Pansy advised. "He's starting to get muscles, with all his lifesaver practice."
"I have faith in you, Ron," Harry said loyally. Ron grinned and went off to shout him a drink.
"Numbers are down tonight," Hermione remarked. "Only seven. Seamus did say he was coming, but I suppose he got caught up in something last-minute."
Ginny was certain that before long there would be six, and then five, and then quiz nights would drift away and become part of their past, something to reminisce about.
"Are you alright, Ginny?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I was wondering if I could come round this weekend, do some scrapbooking..."
"If you'd like," Ron said ambivalently. "Harry's going off to see a Quidditch match –"
"And I suppose you're going along?" Hermione asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"He's meeting Draco there, and I don't want to end up in a threesome –"
"Ron!"
Harry looked as though he was going to vomit into his glass. Draco looked as though if the Grim Reaper appeared right then and there, he'd dive at him screaming 'Kill me now, for the love of Merlin!'
True to Ginny's thoughts, Draco stumbled away.
"I'm going to go find a hole to die in."
"Right behind you," Harry said, looking green as he followed Draco into the cloakroom: two distant pops marked their departure.
"Good one, Ron," snapped Pansy.
"What?"
"You're completely disgusting," Hermione said. "And now we can't do round three, our numbers are too low. We've only got four people now."
"Five, counting Blaise."
"He's unconscious, and he can stay that way. I'm going home." Hermione snatched up her purse and stormed towards the cloakroom. Pansy yawned.
"No point staying here, then. I'm off to a party in Bristol. Want to come?"
"No, thanks," Ron said dryly. They both departed, Ron to the fireplace to floo, and Pansy out onto the street.
Ginny sighed, sitting at the table by herself, surrounded by empty glasses and empty seats.
It was three weeks later when it happened.
Ginny was out in the back rooms, gently sanding a beautiful chestnut wand. There was an old and dusty wireless radio by the small window. The sunlight streamed through its panes as crackly music played.
"You're my cheering charm, you're my love potion..." Ginny paused in her work to roll up her robe sleeves and turn the little latch on the window, slowly and creakily pulling it open to let in a spring breeze. It picked up the wood shavings, dancing in the stream of sun, over her head and around the room, filling her world with the beautiful smell of sawdust and wood polish. She smiled for a moment, watching the golden curls of wood playing around her, and looked down at the wand, perfect in its finished beauty. She picked it up gently, giving it a soft wave, and green leaves spilled from it, joining the sawdust, weaving around her. She almost laughed, strangely, inexplicably happy, turning and walking into the main shop.
"Mr Ollivander, I think summer's finally here," she said quietly. There was silence.
"Mr Ollivander?"
"What are you going to do?" Hermione whispered, holding a cup of tea closely. Ginny had just arrived back from Mr Ollivander's cremation by Shell Cottage. Late spring rain had softened the ground and Ginny had mud and clay halfway up her formal robes.
"I don't know."
They sat there, not speaking for a moment, steaming cups of tea before them.
"It must have been awful," Hermione said. "You're taking it really well, though."
Ginny looked up at her, a smile chasing across her lips. She had not cried at all. Not yet.
"I'm happy."
"Happy?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Yes. I like to think that he's gone on to an eternal summer," Ginny said dreamily. "That's what I'd like. An eternal summer, to warm my bones forever."
Hermione lay her head on her arm and began to cry softly. Ginny put her arm around her.
"Don't cry, Hermione, he's happy," she said, but Hermione either could not or would not hear her.
Things fall apart.
A basic fact of life. People, lives, hearts. Ginny knew this. The Battle had taught it to her. The Battle had taught her many things. When she's running, never look back. If she sees a nearby flash of light, drop to the ground. Doesn't matter where it's aimed or who it is aimed at. Just hit the ground.
It taught her that she'd always have strength, too. When she's lying there with a Crucio spell on her and she's ready to curl up and die, and a Death-Eater raises their wand to finish her off, she suddenly finds that she's not quite ready to die after all, and somehow she manages to actually jump up and start duelling. There's no time for cowardice in war, no time for thinking, no time for decisions. And most of all, people never die when they want to. Somebody else decides when you die, and where.
But the war also taught Ginny that things fall apart, and it's no use trying to hold onto them. When someone's fighting side by side with somebody and they die, step over their dead body and keep duelling, either to death or freedom. People can't stop and try to put everything back together. Things fall apart, and all they can do is watch.
That's what gave Ginny the calmness, the softness, when she found Ollivander, dying on the shop floor. If he was going to die then he would die, and that was it. He willingly fell apart, dissolved back into the sky, faded into summer, and she simply watched, and that was alright.
He left her the shop and everything in it, and he also left her his meager savings. Ginny advertised for a wandmaker: Must be willing to teach first-year apprentice.
"Good luck with that, wandmakers are far and few between," Ron said.
"Ron! Don't be so negative," Hermione scolded him.
"It's alright, I know they're hard to find," Ginny said. "But I'll still try."
"Ginny, I just thought I'd Apparate here to remind you that there's no more quiz nights."
"Oh," Ginny said. She wrapped her robes around herself. She was standing just outside her apartment door. Hermione and Harry had declined to enter, saying they were dashing off somewhere.
"Numbers are just dropping, you know how it is. Ron has the attention span of a gnat," Hermione went on. "But feel free to visit us any time. See you later."
"See you later," Ginny repeated softly, and a moment later they were gone.
She sighed and went back inside.
"Well, Jem, we're on our own," she said. Then she remembered she had given him away. He was Hermione's now.
Things fall apart.