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large fortunes. I am not adding to said fortunes or taking away any of the
proceeds. I like to think that I add to the universe in some tiny way by
writing this tiny part of the fanficdom.
Author's Note: You are all great! Thanks for reading! I read the reviews everyday to keep me motivated. My favorite character is rapidly becoming Gran, whom I resented a little when I first started this story. So spunky! I hope to be as level-headed as she is when I am old! Thanks, SaraJo for being a great beta and keeping me on track. Couldn't do this without you.
Chapter 6
Hear the Words I Mean to Say
"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant. If we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." -Anne Bradstreet
Ginny tried to read Neville's face. He looked neither happy nor angry to see her on his property. "I shouldn't have come, Neville. I'm so sorry to have bothered you and, uh, your ancestors."
"Considering that you are the first person to make them shut their yapping mouths in months, I think I should thank you."
"You shouldn't let them talk back to you. Show some backbone, Longbottom." There was a strained silence before Neville hollowly replied, "I don't believe this is any of your concern. Kippie, bring her back into the salon."
There was no need for magic to be able to figure out that she had insulted him. She hadn't expected that Neville's cheeks would go pale instead the ruddy he went when angry or intensely irritated.
Kippie, the ever faithful servant, took Ginny's small hand and began tugging her back inside the French doors. She thought about making a mad dash for the overgrown yard but the strange rustling she heard made her rethink that plan of action. Maybe if she could just bide her time an opportunity would present itself. Going back to London still didn't sound appealing but she was running out of options.
Seating her in a comfortable chair near the cheerful fire he conjured, Kippie instructed her to stay in this room until called for. She listened with a sense of trepidation as he cast a spell to keep the doors from opening to her. What I wouldn't give for a wand right now, she thought furiously.
She jumped at the loud pop to the right of her chair but refused to look up from the fire. There was no one that she wanted to see right now as she tried to capture one of the ideas that was running through her head.
"It's been a long time, Ginny. I'm glad you finally decided to come home." This visitor was the last person she wanted to see right now.
"I have the distinct feeling that none of this was my decision. Even now, I've been locked in this room by that little house-elf with the strange ears."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Kippie may be an exceptional elf when it comes to keeping Neville fed but he's never been able to do much more magic than that. No, my dear, you've been able to leave this entire time."
"But he said -" her voice trailed off as she stared at her former headmaster. "I just want to go home."
"You were home and then you left. Forgive me but it seems foolish to want to back again so soon."
"I was at my parent's house. This is a realm I no longer belong in."
"Home is where the heart is."
"I haven't got a heart anymore." It was an immediate answer to his pat one- liner, one Ginny had been telling herself the entire time she was away. She knew her heart was once more in its place because it ached; squeezing out tears at very inopportune times - like now. "I didn't mean that but I don't think it matters much now. Things haven't gone well."
"And you were planning on growing up when?"
"Excuse me? Are you telling me that I haven't been a grownup for the last four years? And the two years before that when I helped fight a war? Where were you for that? We never saw you the last six months of the fighting. Not even a message that we were doing a good job. Harry dies and you show up to carry him off. How nice for you. You couldn't find the time for us then but now you're all over my family. Godfather to Ron and Hermione's son? Working with my dad? Even Neville has nothing but good things to say about you." Ginny slumped down in the chair, her bright hair streaming out of he clip and down the dark green upholstery.
"I'm sorry -"
"Don't bloody say you're sorry to me. Apologize to Harry. To Ron. To the people who you let down by never being there during the really important times." She was sobbing now, her arms wrapped around her middle as if her newly found heart was strangling all her other organs.
Dumbledore's eyes showed veiled emotions even as she began to wish he would do something. Laugh at her. Hug her. Scream that he wasn't the fraud she had been telling herself that he had been all along. With a wave of his wand, he produced a sterling silver tea service. "Would you like me to pour?"
"Please." The civilness of her reply was ruined by the horrible case of hiccups that always accompanied on of her crying jags. "Aren't you going to say something?"
"Would you like milk or honey?"
"That wasn't what I was thinking of. Were you always this annoying while I was in school?"
Once again, Dumbledore stopped and watched her. The silence stretched out until Ginny felt that she was going to scream. As a child growing up in the Weasley household, she was used to her anger being met by something of equal intensity. Silence reminded her too much of the truly depressing times she had spent all alone in her London apartment.
"This day is not going well!" Ginny wailed, accepting the cup of tea before she slumped back down in the chair. "I left my family without telling them where I was going which I'm sure must have made them, uh, concerned. Neville made the mistake of listening to me when I talked and I doubt I'll see him again for a while. With any kind of luck, he'll forgive me someday. And now I'm currently criticizing the most trusted and important wizard in Britain. Would you like to kick me now or should I drink my tea first?"
She looked up as rusty chuckle erupted from Dumbledore's thin lips. "You always were a bit melodramatic, even as a child. Glad to see you haven't been changed too much by the Muggles. Don't worry, Genevieve. Your parents were alerted to your departure as soon as you got on the bus."
"What? Have you planted a tracking device on me?"
"You forget that you are back in the realm of magic. We have many other ways of finding information than the Muggle world has. In this case, you failed to pay attention to the other passengers."
Ginny snarled, "Let me guess. A Ministry spy?"
"No, Merely your father's under-secretary on his way to Dover to visit his ailing mother. You forget how noticeable you are."
"Why haven't they converged on this house by now? How surprising!"
"Not really. You're an adult and can go where you want. All you had to do was tell them you wanted to leave."
"That's just it. I didn't. Not really. It was just too much for me to handle. I'm not used to being around that many people anymore. I felt strange. Not bad. Just strange. I just needed to get away."
"And why not back to London? You could have melted into the city once again and kept up the façade as a nameless, faceless Muggle."
"I don't want to be lost anymore." Ginny's mind was becoming focused once again. Like a butterfly emerging out of a chrysalis, her true self was emerging from the mind-numbing fog at long last.
"What do you want?" the aging wizard asked, sipping from his tea cup."
"First, some answers. Later, I'll figure out the rest."
"You want to know where I was during the war. Ahh-"
Ginny interrupted him. "No. I don't really care about that. It was the only excuse I had for being angry with you all these years. You were where you needed to be. We all were. I want to know how it is that my father and Neville have such high-ranking jobs at the Ministry of Magic and you're still headmaster at Hogwarts?"
"I make a horrid diplomat." He chuckled again. "Once, I wanted nothing else than to be the head of Britain's wizarding community. Now it is better left up to those who have the desire and ability to see things right again. There is still much for me to do at Hogwarts. That is where I belong."
"Why is Neville at the Ministry though? I always figured he would teach Herbology at Hogwarts or work somewhere that grew things."
"And he well might someday. I don't think his heart will be in his job much longer if you continue on the path you have charted."
A loud scuffling could be heard behind the door leading to the hallway. Ginny glanced over her shoulder with a grim look. "I wonder what that could be?"
"An ottoman, most likely. Lavender should know better than to try to reupholster furniture from the Grovesnor Era. Nasty bit of woodwork, that is. Hundreds of years old and still as cantankerous as the day it was created."
Ginny grinned at him. "So that was Lavender! I was wondering when I first saw her in the hallway. She's still quite beautiful." They could hear the portraits derisive laughter filter through the door.
"Yes, she is. Poor girl. She decided last year to go into interior design but I don't believe it will ever catch on. Why pay someone else to use a wand when everyone has one? Seamus is quite beside himself with trying to drum up business for her."
"This room is beautiful. She did a wonderful job with the colors." For the first time, Ginny actually studied the room. The light green wallpaper was complimented by real strands of ivy growing up the wall and over the ceiling. Enough tiny fairy boxes hung from the vines to provide the room with very good lighting. A small waterfall cascaded out from a group of rocks in the corner and spilled into a tiny stream that ran around the perimeter of the room, feeding the other plants that grew in abundance.
"I have a feeling that Lavender had nothing to do with this room," Dumbledore mused. She decided he was correct when she spotted a Mimbulus mimbletonia growing from a black and white planter box. The special, self- watering holder had been the present she and Harry had given Neville for his seventeenth birthday. Tears sprang to her eyes and she angrily swiped at them, wondering if she was crying because she had lost Harry or because she had seemed to have lost Neville all of a sudden. "I have never cried this much. What a sissy I've become." Dumbledore freshened his teacup and offered to do the same for her. Ginny shook her head and went back to staring into the fire.
"Have you figured out what you would like to do now?"
"I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I feel that if I continue to stay with my mother and father I will never become anything more than 'Poor Ginny', the littlest Weasley. I can't do that, not after taking care of myself for so long. My London apartment suits me but I don't want to be stuck in the Muggle world anymore. It's going to be awhile before I remember all the spells to get around. I just don't know."
"What about here?" Dumbledore indicated the room behind them and Ginny found herself following the arc of his hand. It really was a nice room.
"Neville wasn't very happy with me when we parted company last." Another loud burst of scuffling and shouting penetrated Ginny's misery. "Hmmm . . . another ottoman?"
A loud thump followed a roar that shook the walls. "I think that was Neville's backbone showing."
***
Hermione was pacing again.
"Please tell me you're having problems at work and this isn't about my sister." Ron stopped his wife as she came near him and drew her into his lap. They cuddled for a moment before she sat upright and shook her head.
"I can't help it, Ron. I know she's safe and Dumbledore talked to her about staying but I feel that something isn't right. Like we're going to lose her again if we aren't careful. I hate this tension between us."
He chuckled. "When we were in school, you and Harry always had to remind me that Ginny was a big girl and could take care of herself. Now I get to say the same thing to you. Let her be. She ran for a completely different reason this time and look where she went. Would she have gone to Neville's if she were thinking of hiding away again? The girl's in love if I don't mistake the signs."
"I wish I was as sure as you are."
"Yes, my fine wife. I have taught you much in our years together. Now, go fetch me my slippers."
"I should never have taken you to that Shakespeare festival last year!" she said as she punched him in the shoulder. "Who would have thought that Ronald Weasley would enjoy something as Muggle as a play!" Grinning at him as wickedly as she could, Hermione bent down to kiss the spot she had hit before trailing kisses up his collarbone to the pulse point of his throat. It beat wildly as she caressed it with her tongue before starting up his throat again. She had meant to finish the trail of kisses at his mouth but a loud wail stopped her.
"Maybe if we are very quiet," she whispered against his cheek, "he will give up and go back to sleep."
"Our son? No, he's liable to keep this up until he gets the attention he thinks he deserves."
"And who did he get that from I wonder?" With a parting kiss that made up in promise what it lacked in intensity, the woman left to get the crying baby from the nursery down the hall.
Ron tipped his chair back as he contemplated his sister. He hadn't wanted to admit to his wife that he was worried about Ginny because he had actually never stopped. Knowing that the other brothers would be clingy, he had decided to be the 'supportive' brother and give her a chance to show her hand before jumping all over her with the only options that were applicable.
During all the years she had been missing from their lives, he had never once given up hope that she would come back to stay. The fates would not be that cruel to him. They had taken away his best friend and his left but they had left him with a beautiful wife, two healthy children and a reason to get up each and every morning. Dawn always brought with it the promise that today might be the day that Ginny would come back and he could look her in the eyes and know that she didn't hate him. At that point, he would have peace.
Even Hermione, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, did not know that aching wound in his heart that had never healed. Ron had watched Harry die, had held the lifeless body close before Hermione had dragged him back to the hospital. Even now he fought back the panic as he remembered that night again. He had left everyone down but especially his beloved sister.
There was only one way to make this right now and he vowed to make sure that nothing stood in the way of Ginny's happiness this time around. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to live with himself after all.
Author's Note: You are all great! Thanks for reading! I read the reviews everyday to keep me motivated. My favorite character is rapidly becoming Gran, whom I resented a little when I first started this story. So spunky! I hope to be as level-headed as she is when I am old! Thanks, SaraJo for being a great beta and keeping me on track. Couldn't do this without you.
Chapter 6
Hear the Words I Mean to Say
"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant. If we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." -Anne Bradstreet
Ginny tried to read Neville's face. He looked neither happy nor angry to see her on his property. "I shouldn't have come, Neville. I'm so sorry to have bothered you and, uh, your ancestors."
"Considering that you are the first person to make them shut their yapping mouths in months, I think I should thank you."
"You shouldn't let them talk back to you. Show some backbone, Longbottom." There was a strained silence before Neville hollowly replied, "I don't believe this is any of your concern. Kippie, bring her back into the salon."
There was no need for magic to be able to figure out that she had insulted him. She hadn't expected that Neville's cheeks would go pale instead the ruddy he went when angry or intensely irritated.
Kippie, the ever faithful servant, took Ginny's small hand and began tugging her back inside the French doors. She thought about making a mad dash for the overgrown yard but the strange rustling she heard made her rethink that plan of action. Maybe if she could just bide her time an opportunity would present itself. Going back to London still didn't sound appealing but she was running out of options.
Seating her in a comfortable chair near the cheerful fire he conjured, Kippie instructed her to stay in this room until called for. She listened with a sense of trepidation as he cast a spell to keep the doors from opening to her. What I wouldn't give for a wand right now, she thought furiously.
She jumped at the loud pop to the right of her chair but refused to look up from the fire. There was no one that she wanted to see right now as she tried to capture one of the ideas that was running through her head.
"It's been a long time, Ginny. I'm glad you finally decided to come home." This visitor was the last person she wanted to see right now.
"I have the distinct feeling that none of this was my decision. Even now, I've been locked in this room by that little house-elf with the strange ears."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Kippie may be an exceptional elf when it comes to keeping Neville fed but he's never been able to do much more magic than that. No, my dear, you've been able to leave this entire time."
"But he said -" her voice trailed off as she stared at her former headmaster. "I just want to go home."
"You were home and then you left. Forgive me but it seems foolish to want to back again so soon."
"I was at my parent's house. This is a realm I no longer belong in."
"Home is where the heart is."
"I haven't got a heart anymore." It was an immediate answer to his pat one- liner, one Ginny had been telling herself the entire time she was away. She knew her heart was once more in its place because it ached; squeezing out tears at very inopportune times - like now. "I didn't mean that but I don't think it matters much now. Things haven't gone well."
"And you were planning on growing up when?"
"Excuse me? Are you telling me that I haven't been a grownup for the last four years? And the two years before that when I helped fight a war? Where were you for that? We never saw you the last six months of the fighting. Not even a message that we were doing a good job. Harry dies and you show up to carry him off. How nice for you. You couldn't find the time for us then but now you're all over my family. Godfather to Ron and Hermione's son? Working with my dad? Even Neville has nothing but good things to say about you." Ginny slumped down in the chair, her bright hair streaming out of he clip and down the dark green upholstery.
"I'm sorry -"
"Don't bloody say you're sorry to me. Apologize to Harry. To Ron. To the people who you let down by never being there during the really important times." She was sobbing now, her arms wrapped around her middle as if her newly found heart was strangling all her other organs.
Dumbledore's eyes showed veiled emotions even as she began to wish he would do something. Laugh at her. Hug her. Scream that he wasn't the fraud she had been telling herself that he had been all along. With a wave of his wand, he produced a sterling silver tea service. "Would you like me to pour?"
"Please." The civilness of her reply was ruined by the horrible case of hiccups that always accompanied on of her crying jags. "Aren't you going to say something?"
"Would you like milk or honey?"
"That wasn't what I was thinking of. Were you always this annoying while I was in school?"
Once again, Dumbledore stopped and watched her. The silence stretched out until Ginny felt that she was going to scream. As a child growing up in the Weasley household, she was used to her anger being met by something of equal intensity. Silence reminded her too much of the truly depressing times she had spent all alone in her London apartment.
"This day is not going well!" Ginny wailed, accepting the cup of tea before she slumped back down in the chair. "I left my family without telling them where I was going which I'm sure must have made them, uh, concerned. Neville made the mistake of listening to me when I talked and I doubt I'll see him again for a while. With any kind of luck, he'll forgive me someday. And now I'm currently criticizing the most trusted and important wizard in Britain. Would you like to kick me now or should I drink my tea first?"
She looked up as rusty chuckle erupted from Dumbledore's thin lips. "You always were a bit melodramatic, even as a child. Glad to see you haven't been changed too much by the Muggles. Don't worry, Genevieve. Your parents were alerted to your departure as soon as you got on the bus."
"What? Have you planted a tracking device on me?"
"You forget that you are back in the realm of magic. We have many other ways of finding information than the Muggle world has. In this case, you failed to pay attention to the other passengers."
Ginny snarled, "Let me guess. A Ministry spy?"
"No, Merely your father's under-secretary on his way to Dover to visit his ailing mother. You forget how noticeable you are."
"Why haven't they converged on this house by now? How surprising!"
"Not really. You're an adult and can go where you want. All you had to do was tell them you wanted to leave."
"That's just it. I didn't. Not really. It was just too much for me to handle. I'm not used to being around that many people anymore. I felt strange. Not bad. Just strange. I just needed to get away."
"And why not back to London? You could have melted into the city once again and kept up the façade as a nameless, faceless Muggle."
"I don't want to be lost anymore." Ginny's mind was becoming focused once again. Like a butterfly emerging out of a chrysalis, her true self was emerging from the mind-numbing fog at long last.
"What do you want?" the aging wizard asked, sipping from his tea cup."
"First, some answers. Later, I'll figure out the rest."
"You want to know where I was during the war. Ahh-"
Ginny interrupted him. "No. I don't really care about that. It was the only excuse I had for being angry with you all these years. You were where you needed to be. We all were. I want to know how it is that my father and Neville have such high-ranking jobs at the Ministry of Magic and you're still headmaster at Hogwarts?"
"I make a horrid diplomat." He chuckled again. "Once, I wanted nothing else than to be the head of Britain's wizarding community. Now it is better left up to those who have the desire and ability to see things right again. There is still much for me to do at Hogwarts. That is where I belong."
"Why is Neville at the Ministry though? I always figured he would teach Herbology at Hogwarts or work somewhere that grew things."
"And he well might someday. I don't think his heart will be in his job much longer if you continue on the path you have charted."
A loud scuffling could be heard behind the door leading to the hallway. Ginny glanced over her shoulder with a grim look. "I wonder what that could be?"
"An ottoman, most likely. Lavender should know better than to try to reupholster furniture from the Grovesnor Era. Nasty bit of woodwork, that is. Hundreds of years old and still as cantankerous as the day it was created."
Ginny grinned at him. "So that was Lavender! I was wondering when I first saw her in the hallway. She's still quite beautiful." They could hear the portraits derisive laughter filter through the door.
"Yes, she is. Poor girl. She decided last year to go into interior design but I don't believe it will ever catch on. Why pay someone else to use a wand when everyone has one? Seamus is quite beside himself with trying to drum up business for her."
"This room is beautiful. She did a wonderful job with the colors." For the first time, Ginny actually studied the room. The light green wallpaper was complimented by real strands of ivy growing up the wall and over the ceiling. Enough tiny fairy boxes hung from the vines to provide the room with very good lighting. A small waterfall cascaded out from a group of rocks in the corner and spilled into a tiny stream that ran around the perimeter of the room, feeding the other plants that grew in abundance.
"I have a feeling that Lavender had nothing to do with this room," Dumbledore mused. She decided he was correct when she spotted a Mimbulus mimbletonia growing from a black and white planter box. The special, self- watering holder had been the present she and Harry had given Neville for his seventeenth birthday. Tears sprang to her eyes and she angrily swiped at them, wondering if she was crying because she had lost Harry or because she had seemed to have lost Neville all of a sudden. "I have never cried this much. What a sissy I've become." Dumbledore freshened his teacup and offered to do the same for her. Ginny shook her head and went back to staring into the fire.
"Have you figured out what you would like to do now?"
"I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I feel that if I continue to stay with my mother and father I will never become anything more than 'Poor Ginny', the littlest Weasley. I can't do that, not after taking care of myself for so long. My London apartment suits me but I don't want to be stuck in the Muggle world anymore. It's going to be awhile before I remember all the spells to get around. I just don't know."
"What about here?" Dumbledore indicated the room behind them and Ginny found herself following the arc of his hand. It really was a nice room.
"Neville wasn't very happy with me when we parted company last." Another loud burst of scuffling and shouting penetrated Ginny's misery. "Hmmm . . . another ottoman?"
A loud thump followed a roar that shook the walls. "I think that was Neville's backbone showing."
***
Hermione was pacing again.
"Please tell me you're having problems at work and this isn't about my sister." Ron stopped his wife as she came near him and drew her into his lap. They cuddled for a moment before she sat upright and shook her head.
"I can't help it, Ron. I know she's safe and Dumbledore talked to her about staying but I feel that something isn't right. Like we're going to lose her again if we aren't careful. I hate this tension between us."
He chuckled. "When we were in school, you and Harry always had to remind me that Ginny was a big girl and could take care of herself. Now I get to say the same thing to you. Let her be. She ran for a completely different reason this time and look where she went. Would she have gone to Neville's if she were thinking of hiding away again? The girl's in love if I don't mistake the signs."
"I wish I was as sure as you are."
"Yes, my fine wife. I have taught you much in our years together. Now, go fetch me my slippers."
"I should never have taken you to that Shakespeare festival last year!" she said as she punched him in the shoulder. "Who would have thought that Ronald Weasley would enjoy something as Muggle as a play!" Grinning at him as wickedly as she could, Hermione bent down to kiss the spot she had hit before trailing kisses up his collarbone to the pulse point of his throat. It beat wildly as she caressed it with her tongue before starting up his throat again. She had meant to finish the trail of kisses at his mouth but a loud wail stopped her.
"Maybe if we are very quiet," she whispered against his cheek, "he will give up and go back to sleep."
"Our son? No, he's liable to keep this up until he gets the attention he thinks he deserves."
"And who did he get that from I wonder?" With a parting kiss that made up in promise what it lacked in intensity, the woman left to get the crying baby from the nursery down the hall.
Ron tipped his chair back as he contemplated his sister. He hadn't wanted to admit to his wife that he was worried about Ginny because he had actually never stopped. Knowing that the other brothers would be clingy, he had decided to be the 'supportive' brother and give her a chance to show her hand before jumping all over her with the only options that were applicable.
During all the years she had been missing from their lives, he had never once given up hope that she would come back to stay. The fates would not be that cruel to him. They had taken away his best friend and his left but they had left him with a beautiful wife, two healthy children and a reason to get up each and every morning. Dawn always brought with it the promise that today might be the day that Ginny would come back and he could look her in the eyes and know that she didn't hate him. At that point, he would have peace.
Even Hermione, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, did not know that aching wound in his heart that had never healed. Ron had watched Harry die, had held the lifeless body close before Hermione had dragged him back to the hospital. Even now he fought back the panic as he remembered that night again. He had left everyone down but especially his beloved sister.
There was only one way to make this right now and he vowed to make sure that nothing stood in the way of Ginny's happiness this time around. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to live with himself after all.