DAY SIX
Ginny kicked off her shoes and socks on the steep, rocky bank and let her toes squelch in the mud. It had been Ron's idea to come down to the river — had they ever taken Harry and Hermione to this particular spot? Probably not. It was not the best for wading or picnicking. The current was strong and swift and white rapids tumbled over boulders in the middle. It was wild here. Even the wind was in on it, tugging tendrils of hair out of her tie, and whipping them around her face.
George had not come out of his room since the funeral. She'd knocked on his door this morning, thinking to ask him if he wanted to come with them, but her only reply was an oppressive silence.
A touch at her back startled her. There was Harry, unsmiling but kind, looking down at her.
"You got ahead of us," he said.
"Yeah, I..." But her chest hurt and the rest of the words wouldn't come. She flipped her hand and gestures toward the wild river. Obedient, he followed where she wanted him to look. Here it is. The wildest part of Otter River we can get to on foot. Beautiful, isn't it? But it hurt enough now that even breathing was difficult.
"Ginny?" Harry was alarmed now.
Ginny hunched over, hands on her thighs, forcing breaths in and out of her mouth. "It's — fine—" she wheezed.
"It happens sometimes," said Ron, from somewhere behind her, "ever since, you know, the diary."
"I didn't know!" said Harry. His hand was on her back, fingers drumming against her spine. "Can I help?"
Ginny bunched her muscles and leapt forward, nearly blind now. She plunged into the frigid water, nearly up to her knees. Her calves seized up with the cold and at that same moment, she let out a scream. The wind snatched it away from her, but it was a loud burst in her own ears for one ear drum shattering second. The cold of the river reminded her of that entire year of frozen moments. The attack at the wedding, the miasma of terror settled over King's Cross like the Dementors that patrolled the platforms had sucked all their souls, the Carrows and their petty cruelties that escalated to true ones, Luna's absence... Fred's body, lying in state... Harry, carried out of the forest in Hagrid's arms; and even just yesterday, with Teddy Lupin looking around for his mum and dad. All of that hurtled out of her.
"Merlin, Ginny, I don't think they heard you in London," said Ron.
Tears were stinging her eyes, whether from the cold wind or her thoughts, but her chest had loosened.
Splashes next to her. Harry was at her side, standing in the same frigid water, and now wrapping his arm around her waist. "Does it help?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said. "I already feel better."
To her great surprise, Harry looked out over the river, and let out a short, sharp yell of his own. The heel of her foot slipped backward, and icy water splashed up her calf and to the back of her knee.
"That was weak," said Ron. Then he and Hermione were standing there, as close to one another as she and Harry were. Then, tipping his head back, her brother led out a blood-curling war cry. When he was done, he turned to Ginny with a smirk. "There," he said, "they heard me in London."
"I think I can do better than my first one," said Harry. "I don't think I've screamed like that since... I don't think I ever have."
"Sometimes," said Ginny, squeezing his arm, "it's all you can do."
His green eyes bore into hers. "Teach me?" he asked.
"Of course."