Chapter 52: Easter Surprises

The days dragged slowly for the rest of that term. Everyone seemed lethargic and cast down, and even though the weather was getting warmer it didn't bring with it that sense of new hope that I had anticipated. It was with relief that I packed my bags, ready to head home for the Easter holidays. Like Christmas, the holiday was only a week long, but the idea of being away from the castle, even for that small amount of time, was invigorating. I was fully packed and ready to go well before I attended my last class.

As the holidays finally approached, I noticed a new spring in the steps of most of the people around me. Talk turned more and more to Easter and the treats we were going to get. The warmth of the new season was finally beginning to have its effect on the mood of the students in the castle. Easter eggs started to appear at the morning owl-ins, and everyone else seemed pleased to receive them.

I, however, got a lump in my throat as for the first time in my school life, Mum didn't send in a huge box filled with eggs for everyone. Instead, she sent me one small egg which arrived on the last day of term. It was so light, that even our old and bedraggled owl, Errol, had no problem with the journey to get it to me. To be fair, it did come with a message letting me know that a bigger one was waiting for me at home, but I still felt very alone when I saw it. I pushed my sadness away as well as I could, focussed on the fact that I would be back with my family soon, and tried to savour the egg I had.

The Easter holiday began much as Christmas had. Mum fussed, Dad hugged, we all pretended like crazy that nothing was wrong at school; though none of us believed the others when we said we were fine. I was restless and worried. I was filled with an itchy feeling that something would happen; life at school had seemed too quiet for a long time, and even though that wasn't exactly a bad thing I felt like it had been too long. There were no new stories about the war in the Prophet, or any real campaigns by the Carrows since that first week back at school. It set my teeth on edge, and I often paced around the house, filled with a weird nervous energy.

Needless to say, I wasn't surprised when a panicked Bill arrived on our doorstep. What did surprise me, however, was what he was saying. It was too big a change for me to comprehend immediately. The Death Eaters knew about us? We had to go into hiding? I wasn't going back to school? I just couldn't take it all in.

The one thing I could focus on was the good news Bill brought. His tidings raced through my mind: Harry was safe at Shell Cottage; Hermione and Ron were with him, and Harry was safe. Harry was safe; Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, Dobby the house elf was dead, but Harry was safe. Luna, Dean, Mr Ollivander and others were at Shell Cottage too, and Harry was safe. Hermione had been through hell; they had all been mistreated at Malfoy Manor, Hermione more than the rest of them … but Harry was safe.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I hated myself for that ongoing refrain. I should have been more concerned by Hermione's plight, or the fact that Ron was safe too, but instead it was my idiot ex-boyfriend that I was focussed on. After months of fear, worry and distress, all it took was one tiny piece of information to almost break me in two. All it took was the knowledge that he was safe to make me realise how fragile my own sense of security really was.

Every time I thought Harry's safe, my heart would sing and I would break into a goofy grin. Mum, Dad, everyone around me, thought I was nuts; the news was so dire, we had to go into hiding for Merlin's sake, but I was so focussed on that one tiny nugget of news that all the rest of it seemed unimportant.

It wasn't until the overwhelming burden of fear for Harry's safety was lifted that I truly knew how worried I had been. It had been a constant ache in the pit of my belly, sometimes twisting into life when some small mention was made of him. But now it was gone and I felt free and happy for the first time since Bill's wedding.

I cursed myself over and over, of course. It was so bloody stupid for me to behave that way. I had no way to know if Harry still cared about me, and yet here I was, overwhelmed by the knowledge that he hadn't been killed. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be equally focussed on my best friend and my brother? Why was our own, immediate plight not important to me? Why did I have a ridiculous desire to sob from the sheer relief of knowing that Harry was finally out of danger?

Despite this strangely one-eyed focus of mine, I did mange to throw my stuff into a bag to take to Aunt Muriel's. Frankly, I would rather have gone anywhere else, but she did have the biggest house in the family, and at least Fred and George would be there too. They could always liven up a bad situation, and I cracked an evil grin as I recalled the last time they had been together with Muriel. Their pranks were legendary and I couldn't wait to see what they had in store for Muriel this time.

I had left most of my things at school, of course, and I thought, with a pang, of all the personal belongings I would now have to do without. The idea that the Death Eaters would paw through it all, looking for a clue that would show them where we might be, sickened me. It was a good thing that I didn't keep a diary anymore, (Riddle was good for one thing then, wow). They wouldn't discover any family tidbits from that particular source.

I had also remembered to bring my photo of Harry and me home with me this time. It was getting a little bent, worn and frayed around the edges, but it still showed that vibrantly happy scene. Gazing at it yet again, I felt a sudden desire to just ditch Mum and everyone and run off to Bill's. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that he might not welcome me, that the war was not yet over and that I would be endangering my family and Harry, as well as myself. I sighed, put the photo carefully away in my bag again, and went downstairs, ready to apparate sidealong with one of my family members.

It had only been about half an hour since Bill had arrived in such haste and left again almost as suddenly. Everyone was in the kitchen ready to go when I got downstairs. Dad took me firmly by the hand, the way he always used to when I was a little girl and needed reassuring. He turned on the spot and I felt a strange sense of compression, as if I couldn't breathe, then a thud as we arrived.

My new sense of joy and lightness dissipated quickly once we reached our destination. Muriel was in fine form. Oh yes, she opened her house to us, but it was from a sense of duty, not love, and she was critical of everything. I had found it amusing at Bill and Fleur's wedding; now I just found it insulting and annoying.

"Ginevra! What are you wearing? In my day young girls always wore robes and covered up. You look positively indecent! What were you thinking of Arthur, letting her go out looking like that?"

"It's just muggle clothes, Muriel. We all need to fit in, now that we're wanted criminals." The tone in his voice was positively gleeful, and I giggled as Muriel responded. Trust Dad to enjoy this enforced time disguised as muggles.

"Well, Arthur, it's no laughing matter. Ginevra is asking for trouble if she keeps wearing clothes like that. Those trousers look painted on."

I bristled at the implication that I was dressed like a tramp, and took my bag upstairs to get away from her insinuations. Thankfully, Fred and George were already there and had made themselves comfortable. There was a flesh-coloured string dangling from Fred's ear.

"Well, little sis, I gather you had a fun meeting with Muriel."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Fred. I can tell that this is going to be just as much fun as school."

From below, I could still hear the lecture Dad was getting. Thankfully, he was fairly oblivious to it; his replies to Muriel always played up his muggle obsession. I could never quite work out whether he genuinely didn't notice her barbs, or whether he merely wanted to fend them off with his muggle comments. Either way, the frustration levels in Muriel's voice were reaching breaking point, and I couldn't help but giggle at the twin looks of joy and mischief on Fred and George's faces. My own eyes lit up as I contemplated them.

"What have you two got planned? I can tell you're up to something. Now, spill!"

"Us, Ginny? You would suspect your two, most upright, and hardworking brothers -- successful businessmen brothers, I might add -- of being up to something?" The innocent looks they turned on me would have softened my mother's heart, but they never worked on me.

"As one prankster to two others, yes, I would. I know that look. Now, tell me, or I swear I will sic Aunty Muriel on you both for the whole time we're here."

"OK, OK, don't get your panties in a twist. We're going to keep running WWW. Wanna help?"

I gaped at them. I'd expected a prank on Muriel, possibly something that would make Mum fly off the handle as well, since both were so entertaining when they got riled up … especially if they got riled at each other. But instead I got this?

"You guys are insane! How the hell do you think you'll be able to stay in hiding, pretending to be local visiting muggles, if you have owl orders coming here left, right and centre?"

"Good point. Hadn't thought of that, had we, George?"

"No, never crossed our minds, Fred. We sure need the smarts of our little sister to show us the way."

"Couldn't possibly have thought of that one for ourselves; good thing Ginny's here to do our thinking for us."

I ground my teeth in irritation. First Muriel was insulting my clothing choice and now the twins were insulting my intelligence? I think George must have picked up on my mood because he quickly backed down.

"We really do have it worked out, Gin. Verity is still operating the shop and all orders will go there. We just need to do product testing and make sure daily balance sheets are tallied right. So, seriously, wanna help?"

I thought about it for about a second. With school not being an option, and very little chance to help out in the war effort, I needed to do something with my time. I couldn't even worry anymore, since Harry and the others were safe and well at Shell Cottage. I pushed away yet another pang of longing to see them all and turned to the boys in front of me.

"You know what? I think I will. But if you try to test anything completely weird on me, I will hex you into the next century, you get me?"

"Sure do, sis. You're standing right there looking fierce and grumpy – interesting combination by the way – so it's very hard not to get you."

"'Ears to you, Ginny."

I groaned and rolled my eyes at both of them. I love the big lumps, but being shut together with them both for so long was going to involve relearning many, many tricks of the trade – the most important being how to remain calm under their deliberate provocation. I sniggered to myself. Maybe this would be a useful thing to learn after my time at school. My patience was wearing thin again, and I knew I needed to reel myself back in to avoid blowing up at innocent bystanders once more. Fred and George would be just the tools I needed to help me along the way, and if they happened to wear some of my famous Weasley temper, then so be it.

From a large, somewhat fiery, family's point of view, the best thing about Muriel's house was that all the bedrooms were so far apart from each other. It was easy to stay out from under other people's feet, unlike back home at the Burrow. I was able to spend hours each day alone in my room each day, just reliving the moment when Bill told us that Harry and the others were safe. I think Mum may have known how conflicted I was feeling, having dragged that confession out of me all those months ago, so she left me alone. She was also keeping Muriel out of my hair, for which I was eternally grateful. One more crack about my appearance and I think I would have used her for jinxing practice.

Even though I felt cooped up, desperately wanting to be either at school or at Shell Cottage, the days took on a kind of pleasant routine. By the end of April, Muriel's garden was in full spring bloom, and the fresh air was so intoxicating that I spent a lot of time outdoors. Sometimes I wandered through the flowers, and other times I took to the air on an old broom Muriel had stashed in case of emergency. She did not approve of girls flying, ("This is not how we did things in my day, Ginevra"), so I would always sneak out when she wasn't looking. It added spice and adventure to those flights and I relished it.

Looking back now, that time was an oasis of peace and happiness in an otherwise dire year. The war raged around me, but I was safe and secure inside the confines of the fidelius charm. I had the happy knowledge that everyone I loved, except Percy the prat, was safe and well. It was a wonderful time, despite Muriel's best efforts to be unpleasant. And, we can't forget, I had the ever-sustaining, bone-deep joy that Harry was safe.