THAT SUMMER, Chapter 9
By Reija Linn
Harry
I was happy beyond all end when Bill and I made up again after almost two weeks of ignorance between us, and it was then I realized how much he had come to mean to me - I didn't realize everything I know now, that was a long way off, still, but I knew then for sure that I couldn't imagine being without his comforting presence, and his warmth any longer. We had come to be so much to each other, more than friends, more than brothers even, in such a short time, that it was kind of frightening, in a way. We would never have found this closeness under other circumstances, I knew that, but in the end, isn't circumstance the trigger for many friendships, and more?
Hermione, for example. We probably wouldn't have become friends as we had, had there not been the incident with the troll during our first year.
Or Ron, even. Sure, I believe we would have become friends, and perhaps even lovers, eventually, but it was by pure chance that he was the first one for me to meet on the Hogwart's Express, it could have just as well been Seamus Finnigan, who later became a dear friend of mine, or Dean Thomas, who was Muggle-born, and would have understood about my fears on that first trip to school.
Or Draco Malfoy, even, had events been a little different. I even found myself wondering about him. He had offered me friendship, once, right in the beginning, a fact I had forgotten over the years, and only remembered during that summer. Okay, it had been in an awkward way, sneering at Ron, my new-found friend, but had it perhaps been honest, anyway? And wasn't it but circumstance that drove us to hate each other so vehemently? The circumstances in the train, the circumstances of his upbringing, for which he could not really be held responsible? Would I have, perhaps, turned out just like that, if I had had Lucius Malfoy for a father?
My own upbringing hadn't been the best, sure, but at least Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, though cruel in aspects like my sleeping place in the cupboard, had not bothered very much in teaching me anything, while I imagined the older Malfoy had always worked towards bringing his son to the Dark Side. My last year in school, shared with the remaining Slytherins in class, had taught me that parents made a great impact on things like this. No one, I guessed, was born cruel, except for people like Voldemort, perhaps, but trained that way.
And wasn't my whole being a wizard a circumstance? My mother had been Muggle-born, so what where the odds of her being a witch, of being admitted to Hogwarts, and meeting my Dad?
Was not everything in life circumstance? And if this was so, why should it make any difference where and how and in what time you grew close to someone; so close even, that you could not imagine being without that person's presence in your life?
Forgiveness had been easy that day - I had wanted to for the past two weeks, but the words never passed my lips. But seeing the odds Bill had went to, just to make me feel cared for on my birthday, and this incredibly thoughtful gift... it was enough for me to finally realize he had not wanted to hurt me that night, but that he had probably been just as confused and shocked as I.
Azhame was very pleased that I finally put some energy into my lessons again, and showed it by mumbling a vast quantity of pejorative Arabic words every evening. Though he was almost frantic when I showed him my birthday present from Bill, as he asked me in an awed voice where I had got it. He even forgot to sneer that I was unworthy of such an artifact, so taken aback he was.
In that week, I was taught the three unforgivable curses, which was very hard on me. Sure, I had no great liking for beetles and such, but to cause such pain and cruelty on any being, almost broke my heart. And to use the very curse that had killed so many people dear to me, on a living creature... But Azhame insisted the only way to fight the Dark was to know it, in every aspect, and to know oneself - and there was no better opportunity to test your soul than to have control over another, even if it was only a beetle, and an ugly one at that.
I never enjoyed these lessons, but some dark part of me I had never realized existed could understand how it using the Imperius curse could thrill someone, to have this control over another being, total control...
After the evening I had used the Avada Kedavra curse successfully for the first time, I crawled into Bill's bed wordlessly (we had up to then still been using different bunks, none of us had been brave enough to do the first step to sharing a bed again), and wept for what must have been an hour, not able to explain, but feeling extremely comforted by Bill's silent support, who did not urge me to speak, but simply held me to his bare chest, stroking my back and just being *there* until I could blissfully go to sleep. When I told him about the lessons the next day, he nodded his understanding, though he agreed with Azhame that learning these curses was the only way to becoming a worthy opponent to the Dark.
My lessons grew more trying with every day that passed - time was running out, and I was still far from reaching the goal my ambitious teacher had set for me, though I took my lessons with him for hours each evening, and spent the day going through the writings of Akasha while Bill was at work.
In the week following my birthday, Bill received another letter from Charlie, asking us to visit him the next weekend. I had learned to Apparate from Azhame, and my teacher had signed my license himself - as one of the Pharaoh's own men, he was authorised to do this. The distance to Rumania was, of course, too large to Apparate in one go, and Apparition across borders was illegal throughout the wizarding world (which exception from Britain-Ireland, for some reason), and Apparition was straining especially for someone not trained much in it, as I was, so we still had to calculate several hours for the travel.
This being so, I had to ask for leave from Azhame, which he grudgingly granted, though not without rebuffing me about how important my lessons were, and how far behind schedule I still was - I'd learned to love this crankiness by then, though, after two weeks of resigned silence from my teacher.
Bill and I were both looking forward to seeing the others again - even Percy would attend, though traveling in and out of Britain was extremely difficult, these days, and he had only brought this through with his connections at the ministry. Still, we were both nervous, also, about this meeting. Ginny would be there, and she was in a worse shape than ever since her brother and father had died. Also, we both knew we would feel the absence of Mrs. Weasley very strongly - Percy had tried to bring her along, so that she might remain in custody of Charlie instead of at the hospital, but the doctor's had agreed upon the fact that such a journey would probably cause too much strain on her, especially since she was in no condition to Apparate or fly, even, and they would have to travel by ordinary means for all of the journey.
So, when the Friday morning came, and we were both ready and packed, we started the first Apparition with mixed feelings.Through Egypt and over towards Israel, across the Lebanon and Syria, and in two steps through Turkey, where we took a night's rests in Ankara, we passed on to Bulgaria, and finally Rumania, with many breaks in between - luckily, Bill had traveled that distance many times, by broomstick and by Apparition, and new many wizard places along the way where we could pause. Still, the strain was hard on me, and when we finally arrived at Charlie's place Saturday afternoon, I could hardly do more than nod at Charlie and Percy and let myself be passed around by the twins - who obviously held the opinion that the best way to treat travel tiredness was to hug the air out of someone.
I couldn't spot Ginny anywhere, but Charlie led us into the dining room - which was wonderfully furnished, despite the restricted means he and his friends had, and contained a set table, which was very much appreciated by all of us, though at first I was so stomach-sick I could only nibble at the meal (which was real great; it surprised me to hear the twins had prepared it - but then, they had seemed to have learned a great deal during their stay with Charlie and his friends).
The atmosphere was a little strained at first - nobody really knew what to say, it was the first time to be sitting all together like this, but gradually, the silence subsided, as Percy reported about the going-ons in England.
It seemed that Voldemort had assembled even more people than we had initially thought, which explained Dumbledore's urgency in his last letter, and that many people had already fled Britain and had asked for asylum in countries like the United States, Australia or the mainland Europe, thus hoping to escape Voldemort's reach.
Wizard places all throughout the country had been shut down, though Hogwart's was still running with the scarce number of pupils that remained despite the situation. Many official events, as well as Quidditch games, had been completely taken off schedule, and tattoos were raised all over Britain and Ireland.
Of course, there was some good new, too. The German Chancellor, as well as the French President, had sworn an alliance with the Ministry of Magic in fighting the dark, and took on many Hogwarts students as far as their numbers allowed. Even Durmstrang took on a few, though they refused everyone who was below exceedingly talented.
Also, a resistance group under the leadership of Dumbledore had formed, a plan he had informed me of beforehand, but which he had not been able to confirm in his letters, since the risk of them falling into the wrong hands was too great, so I was relieved to hear the plan had worked out. My godfather Sirius, as well as Hermione and Remus Lupin belonged to this group, as did (this time the real) Mad-Eye Moody, and Hogwart's teaching staff, including Severus Snape, and Poppy Pomfrey, who had taken on the hard duty of playing spies to Voldemort.
Many had died already, though fortunately no more of their friends and family, though Percy told me that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia as well as Dudley had fallen ill to the plague that had been spread by Voldemort amongst Muggles, and had died thereof. They had never been kind to me, or even civil, so I couldn't find it in my heart to mourn for them - but I did know how to forgive, and knew that if there was such a thing as an afterlife - which I desperately wanted to believe - I would hold no grudge against them.
So far the official situation. Personal matters were so much harder to bear. It seemed Mrs. Weasley was still raving about her husband and youngest son still being alive. I was positive that their spirits had visited her, as Ron had come to bid farewell to me, but as well as they had probably meant this, it had destructed more than it had gained, obviously - of course, I could understand that it was so very tempting to believe they weren't dead, especially if you could see them in your dreams. I could only hope that with time, Mrs. Weasley, whom I had come to love as a mother and who had always been so kind towards me, would improve again, and not end like Neville's parents, patients to St. Mungos for the rest of their lives, probably.
This message was hard on all of us, the other's obviously, since she was their mother, but me also, after all, except for Sirius, she and Mr. Weasley had been the only thing close to family I'd ever had, though I'd never even called them by their first names. There was a lot of grief in that room that afternoon, and I was endlessly glad for Bill's presence at my side.
Later that day, though we were all tired and strung-out, we sat together in the living room, drinking spiced wine and trying to keep our minds off things as far as was possible.
That was when I saw Ginny again for the first time.
It was... a shock, to say the least. She had thinned very much, though she had never been overweight, she had developed a womanly rounded body by the time she turned sixteen - that day, she seemed little more than skin and bones, as she entered the living room, almost staggering.
She did not join us at the table, she just stood there, in the doorway, eyes unblinking, arms wrapped around her emaciated body, regarding us with unbelief and - loathing?, not even acknowledging the twins, who went to her side immediately, or hearing the shocked gasps of Bill, Percy and myself.
"How can you be sitting here like this," she whispered hoarsely, struggling away from George's arm that was trying to comfort her. "How can you sit here like this, as if NOTHING HAD HAPPENED!!!" She screamed these last words, as Fred and George lead her to the sofa, quite against her will, and tried to soothe her with words.
"I hate you, I hate you, I hate all of you!" she shouted, finally struggling free and running out of the room.
Unbearable silence spread at this.
Charlie, who had stood up from his seat, sank back down with a sigh, holding a trembling hand to his temple. "It's been like this since she came here. I tried to talk to her... we all have... even got a psychologist from town... but she won't listen, or let us comfort her. All she wants is for us to leave her alone, and send her back to France, but... I don't think that would bring anything about, otherwise I wouldn't hesitate... especially since she separated from Pierre on the cause that he wouldn't understand a thing, because he had appealed to her to eat something..."
I could feel Bill tense at my side on the narrow sofa. "Perhaps I should..."
Charlie just shook his head. "Don't think you could do anymore than I did. She's locked herself in her room all the time she's been here... refusing food... refusing to even talk to me, or George, or Fred for that matter... guess that if she doesn't come out of there within the next two or three days, we'll have to bring her to a hospital, but... I don't know, I was hoping we could *do* something..." he broke off, hands still shaking, obviously at a loss at what to do.
"It's all so fucking... so bloody fucking hopeless!" Fred cried out at this, while George held him close. I've never seen any of the twins in such a state, but then, I'd never seen them after such events before. And I wasn't feeling much different myself - Ginny had, after the initiate time of being a tag-along to Ron, Hermione and I, become a friend to me, and I hated seeing her in such a state.
"I'll go talk to her," I offered, standing up. Charlie started to protest, but George cut him off.
"Let him... we've all tried, and none of us seems to get through to her... perhaps Harry can, it's worth a try."
So Charlie led me up to Ginny's room, where he left me without a word, but with an encouraging pressure on my shoulder.
Knowing I had to try to do something, but at a total loss about what, I knocked on the door, once, twice, a third time, until finally I heard Ginny's high-pitched voice from the other side.
"Go away, leave me alone, fuck *off*, Charlie."
"Not Charlie, Ginny. I'm Harry. I... please let me in?"
"No! You're not better than the others. You fucking pretend you're sorry about it all, and then you sit there and go on with your life, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been your best friend, and your lover - yeah, I know about that, surprise, surprise. Nice lover you are, at that. They would both still be alive if if weren't for you! If Ron had just stayed at home with Mum, and if Dad had fucking minded his own business, they'd be alive now!"
Guilt struck me at this. Even after all the weeks with Bill telling me I wasn't to blame, Ginny had struck my weak point with these words. If it hadn't been for me, Ron and Mr. Weasley *would* be alive and well.
"I know, Ginny. I'd be dead, and your brother and father would be alive, and if I could swap, I'd do so in a second - but I can't, none of us can. If I took my life, if you starve yourself to death, if we all commit suicide or live our lives as if we were already dead, it won't change a thing. And they wouldn't want us to do that, and you know this as well as I do." I wasn't coming through to her, but I was going to be damned if I didn't at least try.
"What the bloody *fuck* do *you* know about what Ron would have wanted?! It was never about what Ron wanted, was it? You wanted to go to Egypt - so both of you had to go. *You* wanted to fight You-Know-Who, but that was never Ron's destiny, but *you* couldn't bloody go alone, you had to take him along with you, and when *you* were attacked, Dad and Ron *protected* you, you fucking son of a bitch! And now, you act as if it's nothing to do with you, they all act as if it's nothing to do with them, they all talk about going on with their lives, and I fucking well can't, and don't want to, and..."
I heard her break off into sobs behind the locked door, and felt more helpless than I ever had in my life. Was there nothing I could do, nothing I could say to come through to her? But then, why should I succeed where Charlie and the twins, her own brothers, had failed? Except...
"I saw him too, Ginny. I dreamt, and..."
"You fucking liar, don't tell me this, you're lying, you're fucking lying, it was only a dream..."
"... and he told me to get on with my life, and to get over the guilt, and..." I continued despite her panicked screams at the other side of the door. "... and he told me he had gone to see you, too, but that you wouldn't believe it was him you were seeing. Ginny, I had the same dream, and I *saw* him, and even though you won't admit it, you know I'm saying the truth."
Her protests faded and were again replaced by sobs on the other side of the door. I waited, silently, for what seemed like an eternity, until finally, I could hear a key turning in the lock. I waited another minute or two, but she didn't come out, so I slowly pressed down the handle to find the door unlocked.
Ginny stood right before me as I entered the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. She wasn't crying, though her eyes were badly swollen, as she looked at me in amazement? unbelief?
"Do..." her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat clumsily. "Do you... really... believe... that was... Ron?"
I nodded.
"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, rushing into my arms, tears now rolling down her red cheeks again. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean what I said. I was just too... I know you really loved him, and he really loved you, and... I just feel like my whole fucking life has been shattered to pieces..."
She sobbed into my shoulder as I tried to comfort her, not entirely sure of how to do this, but knowing I couldn't turn away from the duty now. I lead her to the bed, slowly, where we sat down together, as Ginny poured out her heart to me. I knew of no response to what she was telling me, I guess that's the worst about such situations, really, you never know what to say, what there is to say, but in the end, I suppose holding someone and listening is sometimes better than all the words in the world, a least that was what I had experienced with Bill, and then with Ginny.
After much persuasion, she agreed to come back downstairs with me, where the first thing she did was embrace all of her brothers and drowning them all in apologies.
She even agreed to eat some cream soup which Fred prepared, and though she choked on the first couple of spoonfuls, she soon bolted down four bowls hungrily.
I myself returned to my place next to Bill, who whispered a hoarse 'thank you' into my ear, while giving me a short, but firm hug.
By Reija Linn
Harry
I was happy beyond all end when Bill and I made up again after almost two weeks of ignorance between us, and it was then I realized how much he had come to mean to me - I didn't realize everything I know now, that was a long way off, still, but I knew then for sure that I couldn't imagine being without his comforting presence, and his warmth any longer. We had come to be so much to each other, more than friends, more than brothers even, in such a short time, that it was kind of frightening, in a way. We would never have found this closeness under other circumstances, I knew that, but in the end, isn't circumstance the trigger for many friendships, and more?
Hermione, for example. We probably wouldn't have become friends as we had, had there not been the incident with the troll during our first year.
Or Ron, even. Sure, I believe we would have become friends, and perhaps even lovers, eventually, but it was by pure chance that he was the first one for me to meet on the Hogwart's Express, it could have just as well been Seamus Finnigan, who later became a dear friend of mine, or Dean Thomas, who was Muggle-born, and would have understood about my fears on that first trip to school.
Or Draco Malfoy, even, had events been a little different. I even found myself wondering about him. He had offered me friendship, once, right in the beginning, a fact I had forgotten over the years, and only remembered during that summer. Okay, it had been in an awkward way, sneering at Ron, my new-found friend, but had it perhaps been honest, anyway? And wasn't it but circumstance that drove us to hate each other so vehemently? The circumstances in the train, the circumstances of his upbringing, for which he could not really be held responsible? Would I have, perhaps, turned out just like that, if I had had Lucius Malfoy for a father?
My own upbringing hadn't been the best, sure, but at least Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, though cruel in aspects like my sleeping place in the cupboard, had not bothered very much in teaching me anything, while I imagined the older Malfoy had always worked towards bringing his son to the Dark Side. My last year in school, shared with the remaining Slytherins in class, had taught me that parents made a great impact on things like this. No one, I guessed, was born cruel, except for people like Voldemort, perhaps, but trained that way.
And wasn't my whole being a wizard a circumstance? My mother had been Muggle-born, so what where the odds of her being a witch, of being admitted to Hogwarts, and meeting my Dad?
Was not everything in life circumstance? And if this was so, why should it make any difference where and how and in what time you grew close to someone; so close even, that you could not imagine being without that person's presence in your life?
Forgiveness had been easy that day - I had wanted to for the past two weeks, but the words never passed my lips. But seeing the odds Bill had went to, just to make me feel cared for on my birthday, and this incredibly thoughtful gift... it was enough for me to finally realize he had not wanted to hurt me that night, but that he had probably been just as confused and shocked as I.
Azhame was very pleased that I finally put some energy into my lessons again, and showed it by mumbling a vast quantity of pejorative Arabic words every evening. Though he was almost frantic when I showed him my birthday present from Bill, as he asked me in an awed voice where I had got it. He even forgot to sneer that I was unworthy of such an artifact, so taken aback he was.
In that week, I was taught the three unforgivable curses, which was very hard on me. Sure, I had no great liking for beetles and such, but to cause such pain and cruelty on any being, almost broke my heart. And to use the very curse that had killed so many people dear to me, on a living creature... But Azhame insisted the only way to fight the Dark was to know it, in every aspect, and to know oneself - and there was no better opportunity to test your soul than to have control over another, even if it was only a beetle, and an ugly one at that.
I never enjoyed these lessons, but some dark part of me I had never realized existed could understand how it using the Imperius curse could thrill someone, to have this control over another being, total control...
After the evening I had used the Avada Kedavra curse successfully for the first time, I crawled into Bill's bed wordlessly (we had up to then still been using different bunks, none of us had been brave enough to do the first step to sharing a bed again), and wept for what must have been an hour, not able to explain, but feeling extremely comforted by Bill's silent support, who did not urge me to speak, but simply held me to his bare chest, stroking my back and just being *there* until I could blissfully go to sleep. When I told him about the lessons the next day, he nodded his understanding, though he agreed with Azhame that learning these curses was the only way to becoming a worthy opponent to the Dark.
My lessons grew more trying with every day that passed - time was running out, and I was still far from reaching the goal my ambitious teacher had set for me, though I took my lessons with him for hours each evening, and spent the day going through the writings of Akasha while Bill was at work.
In the week following my birthday, Bill received another letter from Charlie, asking us to visit him the next weekend. I had learned to Apparate from Azhame, and my teacher had signed my license himself - as one of the Pharaoh's own men, he was authorised to do this. The distance to Rumania was, of course, too large to Apparate in one go, and Apparition across borders was illegal throughout the wizarding world (which exception from Britain-Ireland, for some reason), and Apparition was straining especially for someone not trained much in it, as I was, so we still had to calculate several hours for the travel.
This being so, I had to ask for leave from Azhame, which he grudgingly granted, though not without rebuffing me about how important my lessons were, and how far behind schedule I still was - I'd learned to love this crankiness by then, though, after two weeks of resigned silence from my teacher.
Bill and I were both looking forward to seeing the others again - even Percy would attend, though traveling in and out of Britain was extremely difficult, these days, and he had only brought this through with his connections at the ministry. Still, we were both nervous, also, about this meeting. Ginny would be there, and she was in a worse shape than ever since her brother and father had died. Also, we both knew we would feel the absence of Mrs. Weasley very strongly - Percy had tried to bring her along, so that she might remain in custody of Charlie instead of at the hospital, but the doctor's had agreed upon the fact that such a journey would probably cause too much strain on her, especially since she was in no condition to Apparate or fly, even, and they would have to travel by ordinary means for all of the journey.
So, when the Friday morning came, and we were both ready and packed, we started the first Apparition with mixed feelings.Through Egypt and over towards Israel, across the Lebanon and Syria, and in two steps through Turkey, where we took a night's rests in Ankara, we passed on to Bulgaria, and finally Rumania, with many breaks in between - luckily, Bill had traveled that distance many times, by broomstick and by Apparition, and new many wizard places along the way where we could pause. Still, the strain was hard on me, and when we finally arrived at Charlie's place Saturday afternoon, I could hardly do more than nod at Charlie and Percy and let myself be passed around by the twins - who obviously held the opinion that the best way to treat travel tiredness was to hug the air out of someone.
I couldn't spot Ginny anywhere, but Charlie led us into the dining room - which was wonderfully furnished, despite the restricted means he and his friends had, and contained a set table, which was very much appreciated by all of us, though at first I was so stomach-sick I could only nibble at the meal (which was real great; it surprised me to hear the twins had prepared it - but then, they had seemed to have learned a great deal during their stay with Charlie and his friends).
The atmosphere was a little strained at first - nobody really knew what to say, it was the first time to be sitting all together like this, but gradually, the silence subsided, as Percy reported about the going-ons in England.
It seemed that Voldemort had assembled even more people than we had initially thought, which explained Dumbledore's urgency in his last letter, and that many people had already fled Britain and had asked for asylum in countries like the United States, Australia or the mainland Europe, thus hoping to escape Voldemort's reach.
Wizard places all throughout the country had been shut down, though Hogwart's was still running with the scarce number of pupils that remained despite the situation. Many official events, as well as Quidditch games, had been completely taken off schedule, and tattoos were raised all over Britain and Ireland.
Of course, there was some good new, too. The German Chancellor, as well as the French President, had sworn an alliance with the Ministry of Magic in fighting the dark, and took on many Hogwarts students as far as their numbers allowed. Even Durmstrang took on a few, though they refused everyone who was below exceedingly talented.
Also, a resistance group under the leadership of Dumbledore had formed, a plan he had informed me of beforehand, but which he had not been able to confirm in his letters, since the risk of them falling into the wrong hands was too great, so I was relieved to hear the plan had worked out. My godfather Sirius, as well as Hermione and Remus Lupin belonged to this group, as did (this time the real) Mad-Eye Moody, and Hogwart's teaching staff, including Severus Snape, and Poppy Pomfrey, who had taken on the hard duty of playing spies to Voldemort.
Many had died already, though fortunately no more of their friends and family, though Percy told me that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia as well as Dudley had fallen ill to the plague that had been spread by Voldemort amongst Muggles, and had died thereof. They had never been kind to me, or even civil, so I couldn't find it in my heart to mourn for them - but I did know how to forgive, and knew that if there was such a thing as an afterlife - which I desperately wanted to believe - I would hold no grudge against them.
So far the official situation. Personal matters were so much harder to bear. It seemed Mrs. Weasley was still raving about her husband and youngest son still being alive. I was positive that their spirits had visited her, as Ron had come to bid farewell to me, but as well as they had probably meant this, it had destructed more than it had gained, obviously - of course, I could understand that it was so very tempting to believe they weren't dead, especially if you could see them in your dreams. I could only hope that with time, Mrs. Weasley, whom I had come to love as a mother and who had always been so kind towards me, would improve again, and not end like Neville's parents, patients to St. Mungos for the rest of their lives, probably.
This message was hard on all of us, the other's obviously, since she was their mother, but me also, after all, except for Sirius, she and Mr. Weasley had been the only thing close to family I'd ever had, though I'd never even called them by their first names. There was a lot of grief in that room that afternoon, and I was endlessly glad for Bill's presence at my side.
Later that day, though we were all tired and strung-out, we sat together in the living room, drinking spiced wine and trying to keep our minds off things as far as was possible.
That was when I saw Ginny again for the first time.
It was... a shock, to say the least. She had thinned very much, though she had never been overweight, she had developed a womanly rounded body by the time she turned sixteen - that day, she seemed little more than skin and bones, as she entered the living room, almost staggering.
She did not join us at the table, she just stood there, in the doorway, eyes unblinking, arms wrapped around her emaciated body, regarding us with unbelief and - loathing?, not even acknowledging the twins, who went to her side immediately, or hearing the shocked gasps of Bill, Percy and myself.
"How can you be sitting here like this," she whispered hoarsely, struggling away from George's arm that was trying to comfort her. "How can you sit here like this, as if NOTHING HAD HAPPENED!!!" She screamed these last words, as Fred and George lead her to the sofa, quite against her will, and tried to soothe her with words.
"I hate you, I hate you, I hate all of you!" she shouted, finally struggling free and running out of the room.
Unbearable silence spread at this.
Charlie, who had stood up from his seat, sank back down with a sigh, holding a trembling hand to his temple. "It's been like this since she came here. I tried to talk to her... we all have... even got a psychologist from town... but she won't listen, or let us comfort her. All she wants is for us to leave her alone, and send her back to France, but... I don't think that would bring anything about, otherwise I wouldn't hesitate... especially since she separated from Pierre on the cause that he wouldn't understand a thing, because he had appealed to her to eat something..."
I could feel Bill tense at my side on the narrow sofa. "Perhaps I should..."
Charlie just shook his head. "Don't think you could do anymore than I did. She's locked herself in her room all the time she's been here... refusing food... refusing to even talk to me, or George, or Fred for that matter... guess that if she doesn't come out of there within the next two or three days, we'll have to bring her to a hospital, but... I don't know, I was hoping we could *do* something..." he broke off, hands still shaking, obviously at a loss at what to do.
"It's all so fucking... so bloody fucking hopeless!" Fred cried out at this, while George held him close. I've never seen any of the twins in such a state, but then, I'd never seen them after such events before. And I wasn't feeling much different myself - Ginny had, after the initiate time of being a tag-along to Ron, Hermione and I, become a friend to me, and I hated seeing her in such a state.
"I'll go talk to her," I offered, standing up. Charlie started to protest, but George cut him off.
"Let him... we've all tried, and none of us seems to get through to her... perhaps Harry can, it's worth a try."
So Charlie led me up to Ginny's room, where he left me without a word, but with an encouraging pressure on my shoulder.
Knowing I had to try to do something, but at a total loss about what, I knocked on the door, once, twice, a third time, until finally I heard Ginny's high-pitched voice from the other side.
"Go away, leave me alone, fuck *off*, Charlie."
"Not Charlie, Ginny. I'm Harry. I... please let me in?"
"No! You're not better than the others. You fucking pretend you're sorry about it all, and then you sit there and go on with your life, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been your best friend, and your lover - yeah, I know about that, surprise, surprise. Nice lover you are, at that. They would both still be alive if if weren't for you! If Ron had just stayed at home with Mum, and if Dad had fucking minded his own business, they'd be alive now!"
Guilt struck me at this. Even after all the weeks with Bill telling me I wasn't to blame, Ginny had struck my weak point with these words. If it hadn't been for me, Ron and Mr. Weasley *would* be alive and well.
"I know, Ginny. I'd be dead, and your brother and father would be alive, and if I could swap, I'd do so in a second - but I can't, none of us can. If I took my life, if you starve yourself to death, if we all commit suicide or live our lives as if we were already dead, it won't change a thing. And they wouldn't want us to do that, and you know this as well as I do." I wasn't coming through to her, but I was going to be damned if I didn't at least try.
"What the bloody *fuck* do *you* know about what Ron would have wanted?! It was never about what Ron wanted, was it? You wanted to go to Egypt - so both of you had to go. *You* wanted to fight You-Know-Who, but that was never Ron's destiny, but *you* couldn't bloody go alone, you had to take him along with you, and when *you* were attacked, Dad and Ron *protected* you, you fucking son of a bitch! And now, you act as if it's nothing to do with you, they all act as if it's nothing to do with them, they all talk about going on with their lives, and I fucking well can't, and don't want to, and..."
I heard her break off into sobs behind the locked door, and felt more helpless than I ever had in my life. Was there nothing I could do, nothing I could say to come through to her? But then, why should I succeed where Charlie and the twins, her own brothers, had failed? Except...
"I saw him too, Ginny. I dreamt, and..."
"You fucking liar, don't tell me this, you're lying, you're fucking lying, it was only a dream..."
"... and he told me to get on with my life, and to get over the guilt, and..." I continued despite her panicked screams at the other side of the door. "... and he told me he had gone to see you, too, but that you wouldn't believe it was him you were seeing. Ginny, I had the same dream, and I *saw* him, and even though you won't admit it, you know I'm saying the truth."
Her protests faded and were again replaced by sobs on the other side of the door. I waited, silently, for what seemed like an eternity, until finally, I could hear a key turning in the lock. I waited another minute or two, but she didn't come out, so I slowly pressed down the handle to find the door unlocked.
Ginny stood right before me as I entered the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. She wasn't crying, though her eyes were badly swollen, as she looked at me in amazement? unbelief?
"Do..." her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat clumsily. "Do you... really... believe... that was... Ron?"
I nodded.
"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, rushing into my arms, tears now rolling down her red cheeks again. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean what I said. I was just too... I know you really loved him, and he really loved you, and... I just feel like my whole fucking life has been shattered to pieces..."
She sobbed into my shoulder as I tried to comfort her, not entirely sure of how to do this, but knowing I couldn't turn away from the duty now. I lead her to the bed, slowly, where we sat down together, as Ginny poured out her heart to me. I knew of no response to what she was telling me, I guess that's the worst about such situations, really, you never know what to say, what there is to say, but in the end, I suppose holding someone and listening is sometimes better than all the words in the world, a least that was what I had experienced with Bill, and then with Ginny.
After much persuasion, she agreed to come back downstairs with me, where the first thing she did was embrace all of her brothers and drowning them all in apologies.
She even agreed to eat some cream soup which Fred prepared, and though she choked on the first couple of spoonfuls, she soon bolted down four bowls hungrily.
I myself returned to my place next to Bill, who whispered a hoarse 'thank you' into my ear, while giving me a short, but firm hug.