Grief never ends, but it does change. It's a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love-Author Unknown
He could vaguely hear voices, the slight scuffle of feet or the occasional cough, but couldn't muster up the strength to open his eyes. He knew his head hurt, but it was more of a dull ache than a sharp pain so, therefore, tried to ignore it. He tried to remember what had happened or even where he was but his mind didn't want to work properly. His limbs felt like lead. He tried to move them but didn't succeed.
"I think he's trying to wake up," he heard a voice say.
Harry sensed movement off to his left and then someone grab his hand. "Can you hear me, mate?"
Harry tried to say something but still couldn't make any of his muscles work.
He was still trying to say something, anything, when he faded back into the comfortable darkness.
Harry Apparated to the gate leading to his and Ginny's brand-new home. It was a modern two-story home he had bought for them three weeks ago. After the news of Ginny's pregnancy and the twins' inevitable arrival, it had taken him no time at all to find a house to accommodate their growing family. Of course, Ginny had been nothing short of picky about the house, but they had eventually settled on this one. As soon as she had saw it, she had stated, "This is the one."
He opened the gate, closing it quickly before hurrying up the steps to the front door. He could do with a nice hot shower.
After entering his home, he made his way into the hallway, shrugging off his coat before ascending the steps and making his way to the nursery. Ginny had said she would be in there most of the day decorating and getting everything ready for the twins.
"Ginny, dear," he called as he opened the door, "I'm home."
She sat on her knees, red hair tucked behind her ear with a look of concentration on her face, as she hand-painted Snitches and broomsticks on the wall. She turned to him with a smile.
"How was work?" she asked as she got to her feet slowly, dropping the paintbrush by the can, and making her way over to him.
He met her halfway and pulled her into a hug before replying, "It was tiring. Robards had us raid Malfoy Manor. He wanted us to wait until Draco and Narcissa had been sentenced before we attempted it so there wouldn't be any interference. I just need to take a shower."
"Well, I'm almost done here," she said kissing his lips lightly before pulling away, "Why don't you go shower, and I'll finish up here and start dinner."
"Okay," he said giving her one last quick kiss before moving out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.
Minutes later he was standing underneath the hot shower stream, letting the day's sweat and grime roll off his skin and into the tub below.
How had he gotten so lucky, he wondered to himself. Here he was married to the woman of his dreams, with a gorgeous home and babies on the way. Ginny was only five months along, but he already loved his unborn children like he had known them forever. Voldemort seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had just been a little over a year and a half since his downfall. The future he was now living in was one that he had always dreamed about but could never envision with Voldemort lurking around every corner and in every nightmare. He never thought there was going to be a life after Voldemort, and yet here he was, happier than he could ever have imagined.
He turned the tap off and stepped out of the tub before drying himself off and slipping on the clothes he had gathered earlier.
As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing he noticed was the uncomfortable silence that seemed to permeate through the house. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his breathing as he made his way down the hall. He looked towards the nursery and saw the door shut with no light coming from underneath the door so made his way down the stairs. Ginny had probably finished and was in the kitchen starting dinner.
He entered the kitchen and stopped, frowning. She wasn't in here either. He felt a chill and his gaze fell upon the open window over the sink that overlooked their garden. The cold January air blew through softly. He walked over to shut the window and noticed that there were no traces of animal life to be heard outside.
"That's odd," he thought as he made his way back up the steps and to the nursery. He opened the door and turned on the light.
"Ginny," he said, "Are you playing some kind of pr..." The rest of his sentence died on his lips.
Ginny lay on the floor, eyes open and body unmoving.
Harry awoke with a start, breathing erratically, and tried to sit up, but his body still wouldn't cooperate with him. All he managed to do was curl inward into himself. He had not had the dream of that night in two months. After that night, Ginny's death played on repeat not only in his nightmares but every waking hour as well. He had started taking the Dreamless Sleep Potion, forgetting the side effects until it was too late. He had been desperate, willing to do anything to keep from remembering Ginny like that every single night and day.
"Ginny," he thought, and without warning, he started sobbing.
Ginny was gone. She was never coming back. Their children went with her. What did he have left? How was he even supposed to move on from that? Every hope and dream that he had been afraid to think of before Voldemort, that had finally come true, had been ripped away from him in an instant.
He vaguely noticed a hand on his back, rubbing it in a comforting manner but he didn't care. Comfort was lost to him now. How was he ever supposed to feel okay again? She was only eighteen. Way too young to be taken like that.
Just before he succumbed to that darkness again, he heard a consoling voice, "Everything will be okay, Harry."
"Do you want anything from the tea room, love?" Ron asked as he stood up. "I'm pretty famished."
Hermione looked at her husband with tired eyes, "Just a tea, if you will, thank you."
He kissed her on the cheek before exiting the room quietly.
Hermione turned back to her best friend of nine years.
He had been through so much, she thought, more than anyone else his age and more than most people well older than him. His life had been one big hardship after another. If anyone deserved to have everything they wanted, it was Harry. He had done so much for them and only gotten pain in return. After Voldemort, it was like a veil of darkness had been lifted. The horrors of war and the scars it had left on her friend were healing and even the world seemed to shine with the kind of brightness that darkness just couldn't reach.
Harry and Ginny had gotten married in June shortly after Ginny had graduated Hogwarts and they had found out she was pregnant two months after that. Everyone was ready to move forward, but none so more than Harry.
Hermione could still remember the wedding, how happy Harry had been, and how she had never seen him smile bigger than when he laid eyes on Ginny as she walked down the aisle to him. Her best friend was finally happy. He was getting everything that he deserved and that's all she had ever wanted for him.
Over the past few months, she had found herself asking, "Why?" Why did this have to happen to him? Did he not deserve to be happy? After everything that he had done for them? After every bad thing that had been thrown at him, did he not deserve happiness like the rest of them?
She was shaken from her thoughts by movement from the bed and looked up to see Harry had rolled over and curled himself into the fetal position away from her.
She stood up and walked over to his bed, reaching halfway before the room was filled with the sound of gut-wrenching sobs. They were desperate and helpless and came from somewhere deep inside. The sound was so agonizing that it made her own tears come forth, threatening to spill over onto her pink jumper below.
She placed her hand on his back and started rubbing in circles, trying to calm him down. Harry had shown no indication that he knew she was there. He just continued to cry like no one else was there.
After a while, his sobs quieted to small whimpers. Ron had come back, but Hermione hadn't even noticed, so focused was she on her best friend.
She could sense Harry falling asleep again. "Everything will be okay Harry," she said as she stood up and turned to Ron.
They both sat back down in the chairs and he handed her a tea.
"So, what happened?" he asked as he took a sip of his tea, "I left and he was dead asleep."
"I think he had a nightmare," she said rubbing her eyes and trying to remove the tears from them, "He rolled over and just started sobbing. It was so horrible. I didn't really know what to do."
"You did all you could," he said taking her into his arms and hugging her fiercely, "You were there for him. Even if he didn't acknowledge you, I know he appreciated it."
"I hope you're right," she said as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
He awoke again sometime later and found, to his delight, that he could actually move his very sore body. He extended his arms and moved his legs to make sure and then looked around at his surroundings. He was in a plain white room on some type of bed with uncomfortable sheets. There was a window that let in rays of moonlight to his right. He reached to the small stand by his bed for his glasses before putting them on.
He looked over in the corner by the door and saw Mrs. Weasley humming to herself and knitting something.
As if sensing his gaze, she looked up and her eyes locked onto his before her face split into a kind smile.
"I was wondering if I was going to get to see those beautiful eyes of yours today," she said, "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"
"I'm okay," he croaked. "Maybe some water."
She got up and handed him some water that he drank gratefully. He hadn't eaten or drank anything in what felt like forever.
"Have you been here this whole time?" he asked.
"Oh, no, dear. I only got here a couple of hours ago," she said with a small laugh, "I had to force Ron and Hermione to go home and get some rest. They are quite stubborn when it comes to you, particularly Ron, let me tell you. They haven't left since they brought you in three days ago."
"I didn't mean to cause any trouble," Harry said as he lowered his head in shame.
"Oh, nonsense, Harry," Molly replied, "We're just happy you're okay. You are okay, aren't you?"
Harry was about to reply but then stopped himself. Was he okay? Would he ever be okay again? He hardly doubted it. It was hard to look on the bright side of anything anymore when all he saw was darkness.
"I guess," he said finally.
"No one is going to make you talk about it, you know," she said as if sensing his fears, "We all understand. Everyone knows you well enough by now to know that you'll talk to us when you're ready. No one is going to bother you for details or questions."
"Thank you," he replied gratefully.
"I know things are going to be hard for a while, but you have people that love you," she said. "I hope you always remember that."
Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say.
They fell into a comfortable silence. While Mrs. Weasley continued knitting, Harry's thoughts drifted off to his two best friends. He felt grateful that they had stayed by his side, even if he had been asleep at the time. The thought was slightly endearing if not comforting.
"What's that you're making, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.
"Oh, this?" she asked as she looked up at him, "Just a blanket for a new family member."
"What? Someone is having a baby?" he asked, "Who is it?"
"I can't say quite yet," she said, "I'm sure they'd like to tell everyone themselves."
"Oh, okay," he replied slowly, "I think I'll go back to sleep now. I'm still kind of tired."
"Okay, Harry, dear," Molly replied. "Just let me know if you need anything."
He nodded and then rolled back over. He fell back asleep almost instantly.
Harry awoke sometime later to sunlight streaming through the window and two voices talking in whispers.
He looked over to see Ron and Hermione in the corner where Mrs. Weasley had been previously, heads together, having a quiet conversation. He watched as Ron placed a hand on Hermione's stomach and gave her a quick kiss.
"Just a blanket for a new family member," Mrs. Weasley's words echoed from earlier.
"It's you!" Harry exclaimed a little more loudly than he had intended.
They both jumped and looked up.
"Oh, goodness, Harry, you're awake," Hermione said with a start. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Harry said not to be deterred. "You didn't answer my question, though."
"What's her?" Ron asked, "Mate, you're not making sense."
"I woke up when your mum was here," he replied, "She was knitting something. Said it was a blanket for a new family member."
They both looked apprehensive as he continued, "It's you, isn't it, Hermione? You're pregnant?"
"Well, I supposed I am," she said with a blush as Ron snorted, "Oh, do be quiet, Ronald."
"How far along are you?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Oh, well, I'm only eleven weeks," Hermione replied. "We found out earlier this month."
"And you didn't tell me?" Harry asked
"We wanted to, mate," Ron said, "But you know, you were being kind of distant and we didn't want to feel like we were rubbing it in after everything that happened."
Ron had a point. He hadn't even visited them since Ginny died. He had completely ignored his friends, instead throwing himself headfirst into his work.
Hermione, already sensing his train of thought, spoke up, "Don't blame yourself, Harry. You were dealing with things of your own. We knew you would come to us when you were ready."
"Still," he replied, "I was so distraught over Ginny that I ignored my two best friends. I ignored my family."
Hermione stood up and walked over to him where she preceded to hug him. "I miss her, too, you know, we all do. It hasn't been easy."
"I know," Harry replied, fighting back tears, "But I've been so selfish thinking I'm the only one who deserves to feel as bad as I do about her death when all of you lost her, too."
"Yeah, we all miss Ginny," Ron said getting up to move beside Hermione, "But we understand the hurt we feel is different from the hurt you feel. She was your wife. The mother of your unborn kids. She was the love of your life, your whole future. We don't blame you for being selfish with her. I don't know what I would do if I lost Hermione."
Harry wiped his eyes as Hermione pulled back, also with tears in her eyes. "We're always here for you."
"No matter what," Ron said.
Harry stared at his friends before replying, "I'm so glad I met you guys first year. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Well, you'd probably be dead by now," Ron snickered. "We both would be without Hermione to steer us straight."
"You're probably right," he replied echoing Ron's laugh with a hollow one of his own. "I'm an adult now and still have no idea what I'm doing."
The door opened and a healer bustled in before closing the door.
"Oh, good your awake, Mr. Potter," she said, "I just need to check you out and look you over and then we can get some food into you, how does that sound?"
Harry's stomach growled uncomfortably, and the witch chuckled, "I see you agree with me. If you could just sit back in the corner," she said motioning to Ron and Hermione, "it shouldn't take too long."
They moved back into the corner and the witch pulled out her wand and started waving it over his body. After a few moments, she pocketed her wand.
"All the Dreamless Sleep Potion is out of your system now," the healer said, "You'll still feel some fatigue for a few more days but shouldn't be anything too major. I'll go get your food now."
"Excuse me," Harry said, "What is your name?"
"Oh, you can call me Healer Smith."
"Thank you, Healer Smith," Harry replied.
"You're very welcome, Mr. Potter," she replied with a smile before exiting the room.
Minutes later, Healer Smith was back with a roast potato stew and a slice of treacle tart. She placed it on the hospital tray next to his bed before leaving again.
Harry picked up the spoon and gently scooped up some stew before putting it in his mouth and swallowing.
"How is it?" Ron asked.
"Well, it's edible," Harry replied with a grimace. "Barely."
Ron laughed, "After the Department of Mysteries fiasco and I was in here for a few days, all they gave me was broth. It was horrid."
"Don't let him lie to you, Harry," Hermione said, "He loved it. He was just mad they wouldn't give him more. You know how much he eats."
"That I do," Harry said.
"Hey!" Ron said in an affronted tone, "I'm a growing boy."
They all laughed. It took more effort out of him to laugh than he ever thought possible.
"So, when you leave, where would you like to go?" Hermione asked.
"What do you mean?" Harry replied.
"Well, you could go straight back to your house, or if you don't want to be alone you could go back to the Burrow. Or we have a spare room, you know, just for a few days."
"I think," Harry started, "I think I'd like to spend a few days at the Burrow. I haven't talked to anyone in months. I feel kind of bad about it."
"I'm sure Mum will be thrilled," Ron said. "She's missed you."
"I know," Harry said quietly.
"Well, I'm gonna go ask Healer Smith when we can take you home, then," Ron said opening the door, "I'll be right back."
"So how is work?" he asked Hermione once Ron had left.
"Work is going well," Hermione said, "Moving up is slow-going, but I didn't expect to be in a leadership position so soon out of Hogwarts."
"I forgot to ask about the case Ron and I had been working on," Harry stated.
"Ron said that you have a week off after you get out of here," Hermione told him. "During that time, Robards and another Auror I don't know are supposed to stake out that Death Eater hideout or something."
"A week off?!" Harry exclaimed. "What am I supposed to do for a whole week?"
"Rest," Hermione said with a laugh, "take it easy for a while."
Ron came back in just as he was about to retort that he didn't need to rest, that he needed to keep his mind busy.
"Good news," Ron grinned, "the healer said as soon as you are up and can walk you can leave."
"Excellent," Harry said, "Get me some clothes, I can leave now."
"Slow down, mate," Ron laughed, "You haven't left your bed since you got here."
Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed before standing up shakily. It didn't hurt but his muscles were sore. "See I'm good. Now I need clothes. I need out of here."
"The clothes you came in with are sitting on the bathroom counter," Ron said, "You can take a shower while I tell Mum to come up here."
"Sounds good," he replied.
A short shower and a change of clothes later and Harry walked back into his room actually feeling refreshed.
"Alright, Harry, dear, are you ready?" Mrs. Weasley said, "Ron and Hermione left already to set Ron's old room up for you for a couple of days."
"More than ready," he replied, "I hate being cooped up."
"Alright, let's go, then," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.
Here is chapter 2 for everyone's viewing pleasure. I'll keep a steady update rate of every Friday in the morning (central time) so you'll know when to check back. Enjoy =)