Learning to be 'Normal'
Chapter Two
By Jess
~*~
It was half past six when I walked into the flat I shared with my best mate, Ron Weasley. I threw my cloak onto the chair next to the door and loosened my tie. It was the third Friday of April and I was in no mood for the usual 'meal from a can' dinner Ron and I had been eating since what seemed like forever.
In the living room Ron's tall frame was spread across the sofa and the wireless was tuned to the Quidditch match between the Cannons and the Bats. As usual, the Cannons were being pummeled and Ron was simply devastated. I never understood why it hurt him so much every time they lost. It was a good thing it didn't cause him anymore agony than it already did or he'd have been dead long ago.
I dropped my tie in his face and he threw it back at me.
"Hey Harry. How was work?"
I sighed in exasperation. Even after the fall of Voldemort two years ago, there were still people that tried to follow his image blindly. Death Eater fractions were getting easier to catch, but no less deadly. "It was.interesting. How 'bout you?"
Ron worked for the Ministry, the Department for Magical Games and Sports. He jumped up and went into another one of his endless monologues about how the weight of Bludgers was being debated. Sometimes I see a little of Percy in him. I listened out of one ear, noting only what could serve me a purpose later.
The doorbell rang and Ron stopped in mid-sentence and made a mad dash for the door. A moment later he reappeared with my good friend and his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Hermione was dressed up rather nicely, her hair tame for once.
Ron was the slow one, still is sometimes. I realize I was a bit blind in not noticing Ginny before I did in my fifth year, something I regret even to this day. But Ron didn't discern his feelings for Hermione until the middle of our sixth year. When he finally came around, they had a love like no other, but the time between was agony to anyone that got caught anywhere near one of their rows.
Ron winked at me and whispered as he reached for my discarded tie, "I might see you later tonight."
I raised an eyebrow at my friend. "Might?"
He grinned cheekily and made a show of escorting Hermione out of the door. She gave a small wave in my direction before giving into Ron. I, on the other hand, was left with the Quidditch game and my thoughts. My mind drifted back to just about two years ago, the fall of Voldemort.
~*~ At about eleven o'clock the night before I knew Voldemort was going to storm the school, I couldn't sleep. I'd tried; I closed my eyes, I counted sheep, I drank warm milk, I'd even paced. But my mind was restless; I dressed in a pair of Dudley's old, faded trousers and a jumper and went down to the common room.
Intending to visit Dobby in the kitchens, I was distracted when a streak of gold near the Common Room fireplace caught my eye. I found my girlfriend of a little over a year watch watching the fire as it slowly burned out. She turned to me and my step faltered. I loved those huge, chocolate eyes, especially when she turned them towards me in a way that I felt I could see straight down into her soul.
I sat down beside her and pulled her close, I stroked her hair and murmured quiet, love things that I no longer remember. My hand wavered in her hair; what would it be like if I lost her tomorrow? Would I be able to go on?
I wanted to tell her everything so badly right then, to tell her how much I knew and how she could protect herself incase the wrong side prevailed. But I couldn't. No one outside of the Order could have preemptive information. So instead, I held her until her breathing evened out and her muscles relaxed.
Just before dawn broke, I left the safety of the circle of her arms to meet with Dumbledore and his legion of teachers, craftsmen, merchants, and homemakers. The plan was being set and the pawns were being placed. I paused then, and stared at this strange group of people that otherwise would have never been all in the same room at the same time and I wondered how many of them would lose their lives that day.
We met Voldemort and his group of Death Eaters, Dementors, and other wild beasts on the front lawn. Our wands were drawn, our potions were made, and our mediwitches were on hand. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity but what couldn't have been more than thirty seconds. But when the still silence broke, it was hell on earth. Everything remained at a dull roar until one of the Death Eaters' misfired curse missiles struck the Astronomy Tower and sent rubble and debris crashing to the ground.
In a moment of calm, an eye in the storm I could see students with their faces pressed to the glass and others running out of the front doors. But then, for the first time that morning, Voldemort spoke. He sent a slew of Avada Kedavra curses into the group of Weasleys. Arthur, Molly, Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, and George; all of them were gone in a matter of seconds. My mouth dropped open as I saw the only family I'd ever known fall into a pile of quickly cooling bodies.
I hadn't been sure up until that point if the spell that Hermione had once translated for me out of an Ancient Runes book would ever work. I wasn't even sure if I remembered it properly. Now, I think of the times when in crises normal people can lift cars and such, and I think that's what had to have happened. I couldn't tell you the name of the spell I'd used, I was too busy with the desired result. I became vaguely aware that as my curse was sent his way, a sharp green light blinded my vision and then everything was black.
Waking up in the hospital wing two days later, I was greeted with the image of Dumbledore and the Weasleys clustered around my bed. Madame Pomfrey was shooing the group of familiar redheads out of the room. The kind older man smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. "How do you feel, Harry?"
I groped for the ability to speak in the train wreck that was my mind. "Fine, I think. Can you tell me what's going on?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly and sat on the end of my bed and placed a Locking Charm on the door. "As you were hit by Voldemort's Avada Kedavra curse, Voldemort was sucked into his own wand. His wand was destroyed, but your body and many of the other dead on the field disappeared. And one by one, in reverse order of when they were hit with the Killing Curse, they reappeared on to the lawn. You collapsed right away, but some were coherent enough to tell us what they'd seen. But it was Bertha Jorkins that clued us in on what exactly happened."
I sputtered in recognition. "Bertha Jorkins? Wasn't she the witch that was kidnapped and killed by Voldemort in my fourth year?"
Dumbledore nodded again but put his hand out to calm me. "Please, Harry. You must let me finish. Yes, Bertha Jorkins was Voldemort's victim in the summer before your fourth year. But she apparated right into Hogsmeade and came running up to the school not moments after the lot of you reappeared. She told Professor McGonagall and I everything, but the part that got to us was how she re-materialized into the exact spot she last remembered being. And that's when I went into Hogsmeade with Minerva and we apparated to the field the Port Key took you during the Tri- Wizarding Tournament. Sure enough, Cedric Diggory lay spread-eagle out in the grass, much like I suppose he looked like when he died, but now very much alive."
I'd figured out where he was taking all of this long before he got there. "What about Godric's Hollow? Did anyone go there?"
It was then that the ever-present sparkle in the old headmaster's eye died. "Yes, after returning Cedric to the school, Minerva and I went to Godric's Hollow. Your parents weren't there."
I felt as if I'd lost my parents all over again. At just the slight glimmer of hope that I'd finally have my family, something inside had swelled, only to be crushed moments later. I turned my attention and thoughts to other things. "How many did we lose in the end?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily, as if each death weighed him down a little bit more. "We lost twenty-one students: two Slytherins; a third year and a seventh year, six Hufflepuffs; two second years, a sixth year, and a fifth year, four Ravenclaw; three fourth years and a first year, and eight Gryffindors; two first years, a second year, two fourth years, and three seventh years. And only one teacher was lost; Professor Trewlany."
Doing a bit of mental math, I turned a confused face towards the headmaster. "But, sir, that's only twenty students."
He nodded slowly and stood from the edge of my bed. My heart began to palpate. Could it have been Ron? Or was it Hermione? Or worse yet, Ginny, could she have been a casualty? "Sir?"
Dumbledore turned back to me with a grim smile. "Harry, we found the bodies of everyone else on the grounds. But we have one missing. There's no body, no witnesses, no nothing. We've put tracers on her magical signature, but nothing has turned up."
My head was swimming and my hands were shaking. "Sir, who was it?"
"Ginny Weasley."
Instantaneously it felt as if my heart was being turned inside out and someone had blocked my air passages. Finally a strangled sob escaped my throat and released the dam of tears and pain. I'm not sure who let them in, I assume it was Dumbledore, but soon eight redheads and one bushy haired brunette had crowded my bed and enveloping me in tears, hugs, and words of comfort.
~*~
Two years the Order has been searching for the rest of the Death Eaters, establishing a new governmental structure, and cataloging the identity of every witch and wizard's magical signature. The search for Ginny and my parents was placed on the Order's backburner after months of no success.
For a long time it was mind consuming. I slept, ate, and breathed search tactics. I was a machine whose sole purpose was finding ways to locate these people I held dear to me. Eventually, with a lot of cajoling and a soul-bearing from my two best friends, Hermione and the Weasleys pulled me from the funk I'd settled myself into.
Sometimes I wondered what Ginny would have looked like now, I wondered that if she and I would be living together instead of Ron and I. I did this frequently; I'd usually be in bed, but I'd lie for hours with an alternate reality coursing through my head. Ones where Ginny and I were married and were living in a quiet home in the country. There were others in which Ginny and I were simply dating or engaged and both worked and lived in Diagon Alley.
Every daydream was my escape and it caused me as much pain as pleasure. Sometimes Ron or somebody or something would rouse me from my thoughts and I'd be placed rather rudely back into the reality that I exist in and I wouldn't have a chance to say my goodbye.
It was my biggest regret. If I had the power enough I'd go back to that day and I'd at least have woken Ginny and told her that I loved her. Even if I couldn't save her life, I'd go back and let her know how much I cared so that I could rest, knowing that she knew. I know that she knew how deep my feelings for her ran, but sometimes I wonder if I knew before she'd died.
The clock in the hall struck ten and I realized that I'd spent over three hours lost in the past, and that Ron was going to be staying at Hermione's tonight. I stood, stretching as I went, and trudged down the narrow hallway to the last door on the left. I opened the door and flopped down on my bed. With a slight wave of my wand the flat became still and dark.
~*~
Author's Notes: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be a) very rich, b) very happy, and c) JK Rowling. Only one out of three doesn't cut it. I think everyone has begun to catch on to who is who, but wait! It'll get better.
~*~
It was half past six when I walked into the flat I shared with my best mate, Ron Weasley. I threw my cloak onto the chair next to the door and loosened my tie. It was the third Friday of April and I was in no mood for the usual 'meal from a can' dinner Ron and I had been eating since what seemed like forever.
In the living room Ron's tall frame was spread across the sofa and the wireless was tuned to the Quidditch match between the Cannons and the Bats. As usual, the Cannons were being pummeled and Ron was simply devastated. I never understood why it hurt him so much every time they lost. It was a good thing it didn't cause him anymore agony than it already did or he'd have been dead long ago.
I dropped my tie in his face and he threw it back at me.
"Hey Harry. How was work?"
I sighed in exasperation. Even after the fall of Voldemort two years ago, there were still people that tried to follow his image blindly. Death Eater fractions were getting easier to catch, but no less deadly. "It was.interesting. How 'bout you?"
Ron worked for the Ministry, the Department for Magical Games and Sports. He jumped up and went into another one of his endless monologues about how the weight of Bludgers was being debated. Sometimes I see a little of Percy in him. I listened out of one ear, noting only what could serve me a purpose later.
The doorbell rang and Ron stopped in mid-sentence and made a mad dash for the door. A moment later he reappeared with my good friend and his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Hermione was dressed up rather nicely, her hair tame for once.
Ron was the slow one, still is sometimes. I realize I was a bit blind in not noticing Ginny before I did in my fifth year, something I regret even to this day. But Ron didn't discern his feelings for Hermione until the middle of our sixth year. When he finally came around, they had a love like no other, but the time between was agony to anyone that got caught anywhere near one of their rows.
Ron winked at me and whispered as he reached for my discarded tie, "I might see you later tonight."
I raised an eyebrow at my friend. "Might?"
He grinned cheekily and made a show of escorting Hermione out of the door. She gave a small wave in my direction before giving into Ron. I, on the other hand, was left with the Quidditch game and my thoughts. My mind drifted back to just about two years ago, the fall of Voldemort.
~*~ At about eleven o'clock the night before I knew Voldemort was going to storm the school, I couldn't sleep. I'd tried; I closed my eyes, I counted sheep, I drank warm milk, I'd even paced. But my mind was restless; I dressed in a pair of Dudley's old, faded trousers and a jumper and went down to the common room.
Intending to visit Dobby in the kitchens, I was distracted when a streak of gold near the Common Room fireplace caught my eye. I found my girlfriend of a little over a year watch watching the fire as it slowly burned out. She turned to me and my step faltered. I loved those huge, chocolate eyes, especially when she turned them towards me in a way that I felt I could see straight down into her soul.
I sat down beside her and pulled her close, I stroked her hair and murmured quiet, love things that I no longer remember. My hand wavered in her hair; what would it be like if I lost her tomorrow? Would I be able to go on?
I wanted to tell her everything so badly right then, to tell her how much I knew and how she could protect herself incase the wrong side prevailed. But I couldn't. No one outside of the Order could have preemptive information. So instead, I held her until her breathing evened out and her muscles relaxed.
Just before dawn broke, I left the safety of the circle of her arms to meet with Dumbledore and his legion of teachers, craftsmen, merchants, and homemakers. The plan was being set and the pawns were being placed. I paused then, and stared at this strange group of people that otherwise would have never been all in the same room at the same time and I wondered how many of them would lose their lives that day.
We met Voldemort and his group of Death Eaters, Dementors, and other wild beasts on the front lawn. Our wands were drawn, our potions were made, and our mediwitches were on hand. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity but what couldn't have been more than thirty seconds. But when the still silence broke, it was hell on earth. Everything remained at a dull roar until one of the Death Eaters' misfired curse missiles struck the Astronomy Tower and sent rubble and debris crashing to the ground.
In a moment of calm, an eye in the storm I could see students with their faces pressed to the glass and others running out of the front doors. But then, for the first time that morning, Voldemort spoke. He sent a slew of Avada Kedavra curses into the group of Weasleys. Arthur, Molly, Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, and George; all of them were gone in a matter of seconds. My mouth dropped open as I saw the only family I'd ever known fall into a pile of quickly cooling bodies.
I hadn't been sure up until that point if the spell that Hermione had once translated for me out of an Ancient Runes book would ever work. I wasn't even sure if I remembered it properly. Now, I think of the times when in crises normal people can lift cars and such, and I think that's what had to have happened. I couldn't tell you the name of the spell I'd used, I was too busy with the desired result. I became vaguely aware that as my curse was sent his way, a sharp green light blinded my vision and then everything was black.
Waking up in the hospital wing two days later, I was greeted with the image of Dumbledore and the Weasleys clustered around my bed. Madame Pomfrey was shooing the group of familiar redheads out of the room. The kind older man smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. "How do you feel, Harry?"
I groped for the ability to speak in the train wreck that was my mind. "Fine, I think. Can you tell me what's going on?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly and sat on the end of my bed and placed a Locking Charm on the door. "As you were hit by Voldemort's Avada Kedavra curse, Voldemort was sucked into his own wand. His wand was destroyed, but your body and many of the other dead on the field disappeared. And one by one, in reverse order of when they were hit with the Killing Curse, they reappeared on to the lawn. You collapsed right away, but some were coherent enough to tell us what they'd seen. But it was Bertha Jorkins that clued us in on what exactly happened."
I sputtered in recognition. "Bertha Jorkins? Wasn't she the witch that was kidnapped and killed by Voldemort in my fourth year?"
Dumbledore nodded again but put his hand out to calm me. "Please, Harry. You must let me finish. Yes, Bertha Jorkins was Voldemort's victim in the summer before your fourth year. But she apparated right into Hogsmeade and came running up to the school not moments after the lot of you reappeared. She told Professor McGonagall and I everything, but the part that got to us was how she re-materialized into the exact spot she last remembered being. And that's when I went into Hogsmeade with Minerva and we apparated to the field the Port Key took you during the Tri- Wizarding Tournament. Sure enough, Cedric Diggory lay spread-eagle out in the grass, much like I suppose he looked like when he died, but now very much alive."
I'd figured out where he was taking all of this long before he got there. "What about Godric's Hollow? Did anyone go there?"
It was then that the ever-present sparkle in the old headmaster's eye died. "Yes, after returning Cedric to the school, Minerva and I went to Godric's Hollow. Your parents weren't there."
I felt as if I'd lost my parents all over again. At just the slight glimmer of hope that I'd finally have my family, something inside had swelled, only to be crushed moments later. I turned my attention and thoughts to other things. "How many did we lose in the end?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily, as if each death weighed him down a little bit more. "We lost twenty-one students: two Slytherins; a third year and a seventh year, six Hufflepuffs; two second years, a sixth year, and a fifth year, four Ravenclaw; three fourth years and a first year, and eight Gryffindors; two first years, a second year, two fourth years, and three seventh years. And only one teacher was lost; Professor Trewlany."
Doing a bit of mental math, I turned a confused face towards the headmaster. "But, sir, that's only twenty students."
He nodded slowly and stood from the edge of my bed. My heart began to palpate. Could it have been Ron? Or was it Hermione? Or worse yet, Ginny, could she have been a casualty? "Sir?"
Dumbledore turned back to me with a grim smile. "Harry, we found the bodies of everyone else on the grounds. But we have one missing. There's no body, no witnesses, no nothing. We've put tracers on her magical signature, but nothing has turned up."
My head was swimming and my hands were shaking. "Sir, who was it?"
"Ginny Weasley."
Instantaneously it felt as if my heart was being turned inside out and someone had blocked my air passages. Finally a strangled sob escaped my throat and released the dam of tears and pain. I'm not sure who let them in, I assume it was Dumbledore, but soon eight redheads and one bushy haired brunette had crowded my bed and enveloping me in tears, hugs, and words of comfort.
~*~
Two years the Order has been searching for the rest of the Death Eaters, establishing a new governmental structure, and cataloging the identity of every witch and wizard's magical signature. The search for Ginny and my parents was placed on the Order's backburner after months of no success.
For a long time it was mind consuming. I slept, ate, and breathed search tactics. I was a machine whose sole purpose was finding ways to locate these people I held dear to me. Eventually, with a lot of cajoling and a soul-bearing from my two best friends, Hermione and the Weasleys pulled me from the funk I'd settled myself into.
Sometimes I wondered what Ginny would have looked like now, I wondered that if she and I would be living together instead of Ron and I. I did this frequently; I'd usually be in bed, but I'd lie for hours with an alternate reality coursing through my head. Ones where Ginny and I were married and were living in a quiet home in the country. There were others in which Ginny and I were simply dating or engaged and both worked and lived in Diagon Alley.
Every daydream was my escape and it caused me as much pain as pleasure. Sometimes Ron or somebody or something would rouse me from my thoughts and I'd be placed rather rudely back into the reality that I exist in and I wouldn't have a chance to say my goodbye.
It was my biggest regret. If I had the power enough I'd go back to that day and I'd at least have woken Ginny and told her that I loved her. Even if I couldn't save her life, I'd go back and let her know how much I cared so that I could rest, knowing that she knew. I know that she knew how deep my feelings for her ran, but sometimes I wonder if I knew before she'd died.
The clock in the hall struck ten and I realized that I'd spent over three hours lost in the past, and that Ron was going to be staying at Hermione's tonight. I stood, stretching as I went, and trudged down the narrow hallway to the last door on the left. I opened the door and flopped down on my bed. With a slight wave of my wand the flat became still and dark.
~*~
Author's Notes: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be a) very rich, b) very happy, and c) JK Rowling. Only one out of three doesn't cut it. I think everyone has begun to catch on to who is who, but wait! It'll get better.
