To everyone that has waited for the next segment, I hope that the wait
hasn't been long and that this will tide you over until the next one is
done. I lost my muse for a short time but found it again is after a
serious of a lot of ficlets.........thanks so much to Holly and Kaz and JenMo and
SaraJo. You all make me a better writer.
Chapter 9: Today Will Be Different
Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops...at all. –Emily Dickinson
"You never call. You never write. You never come up to this part of the building. I've been hanging on this wall for three years now. I thought you'd at least visit."
Neville tried to remember to breath as he looked at his old friend. The cheeky grin was there as were the green eyes glittering with laughter behind the glasses and the stark scar. It was like the hero had never left, only stepped into his Quidditch robes for a moment of rest in the middle of a pitch.
"I didn't mean to kiss her, Harry." His face grew red as he realized what he had just said.
"Sure you did. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you kissed her. She needs to move on." Harry, resplendent in his crimson uniform threw a calm bludger up and down with ease. "Why are you still here, Neville? Why aren't you at your house, planning a summer wedding?"
"I was thinking fall." This was lunacy. He was talking to a portrait about a girl they both loved. "The leaves of the oaks would match her hair."
"There you go. Already a step in the right direction."
"This is insane. Aren't you angry that I love your girl?"
"My girl? Not anymore, mate. Not anymore. She's yours. That is, if you want her. You're going to have to work on her, I think. She's a feisty one. I think you should skip your meeting and go back to your office. Plan on taking a long lunch."
"But I have this meeting..."
Harry laughed and shrugged. "Leave the papers there. They'll get them eventually. Just do me a favor, mate. Come by and visit sometime. It gets lonely in this area of the ministry."
"Why don't you, you know, move around in the other portraits?"
The deep chuckle bounced around the empty hallway. "Don't worry. I get around. It's just better if I stay in the background. It keeps from having too many unwanted visitors. It's just nice to have visitors here in my little hallway."
"Wonder if the guys who work up here would like that you call this your little hallway."
"You forget something, Neville. I'm Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The blokes who work here love that I call it my hallway." The cocky grin was firmly back in place but his eyes were sad. "I've got a hallway. You've got a long life with a beautiful girl. Go, Neville, before I start to rethink this idea."
"Miss Weasley, you're going to have to sign in before I can let you go through this door."
"But, you don't understand. I need-"
The guard stood in the middle of the doorway, refusing to let either Ginny or Ron by. They had tried arguing, cajoling and whining. Ron was now digging in his pockets to try bribing.
"You've seen my credentials. Why can't that be good enough? We won't be here long. The Minister of Muggle Relations is waiting to see us."
"Sign in and I'll be more than happy to let you escort Miss Weasley to the appropriate office."
"I'm not a threat to the peace of the wizarding community. Why won't you let me by?"
"Sign in-"
"You keep saying that!" Her face was red now and the urge to grab her brother's wand was high. "Do you like your job?"
It was useless for her to threaten this man, but she felt that she was getting nowhere. She would have signed in when she first came in but she and Ron had discussed it and the fact that she had been away for so long, the time it would take to get the appropriate badge would be better served just trying to get by the guard. Now she wasn't so sure.
"I do like my job. That doesn't mean you can't sign in."
Ron tried to calm her down but she pushed away his hands. "No, I don't think you understand. I need to-"
"Is there a problem here?"
Ginny heard her brother's sharp intake of breath at the new arrival but she was watching the guard to pay much attention. He had gone white and his posture tightened.
"No, sir. No problem."
"There is a problem here and..." her voice drifted as she looked up - and up. The tall, black man towered over them all, even Ron. "Kingsley?"
"If it isn't little Ginny Weasley. What're you doing here? Come to visit your father?"
"No, I'm trying to get through to see Neville but I seem to have run into a bit of a snag."
"I've got this, Craig. Let her through."
"But, sir-"
The fierce eyes and lowered brow backed the guard against the wall, opening up a pathway for the siblings. A pair of goblins edged past them, grumbling about youngsters and rude manners. Ginny found she was unsure of her next step now that they had crossed the biggest barrier. She was in but where did that leave her? With little hesitation, she fell into step beside the large man. Once, she had known him as a fellow fighter of justice. It wasn't a deep friendship, but enough of one that she felt compelled to know how he had been since she had seen him last.
"How've you been, Kingsley?"
"Good." He looked at her without turning his head. "I'd show you pictures but we're almost there."
"Pictures? I want to see pictures. Can I assume that you and Tonks...." She lifted her eyebrow and smiled up at him.
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he pulled out his wallet and began pulling out pictures of his pink-haired wife and children.
"We just had our third last month. The twins will be three in August." The little group waved at them from a group of trees, the two little boys changing the location of their ears. "As you can see, they take after their mother a little more than we would like."
"The baby is precious. Be sure to give Tonks my love."
"I will. Stay safe, Ginny."
The door to Neville's department loomed in front of her as she handed the photos back and returned the sentiment. This is what she wanted to do. Why was she feeling so ill?
Ron, who had followed after them, stepped to the door, blocking it with his body.
"Move, Ron. Now you're in my way."
"I just want to make sure this is what you want." His eyes were fierce as he gazed at his little sister. He knew this was what she needed to do but he couldn't bear to have her heart hurt once again. "If you aren't ready for this, I can take you back to, uh, well, wherever you wanted to go."
"And where will that be, Ron? I can't go back to his house and live in his library for the rest of my life and I don't want to go to my flat."
"You have options, hon. Lots and lots of options. Mum and Dad would love to have you back with them and Hermione and I would take you in a heart beat."
"That's not the kind of life I want. Going back home to be cosseted like the fragile little daughter is not what I've spent the last twenty-three years preparing for. And if I stay with you two, I'll have to spend time with each one of the others. Can you see it? I'll never have a home of my own if you all have your way."
Her light eyes snapping, she tried to contain the bitterness at the thought of being passed around like a child's toy. Leave it to her family to try to keep her ten and innocent. What she really wanted was through those doors. It was settled.
"Move. I'm not going back with you so you can quit looking at me like that. I'll let you take care of me some other time."
His hand caressed her cheek. "I don't think I'll ever get to take care of you. You do too good a job at it."
With a quick kiss on the cheek, she pushed him out of the way and ran to the first person she could see.
"Excuse me, is this Neville Longbottom's office?"
The mousy woman lifted her head and stared at the flame-haired girl for a second before dropping her eyes back to her desk. "Yes, but-"
"Thank you," she said over her shoulder as she walked into the inner office. The room felt strangely empty, void of all character of its usual occupant. A large desk dominated the room, piled high with papers and folders while the two chairs normally reserved for guests were holding a variety of stacked picture frames that should have normally graced the overwhelmed piece of furniture.
She picked up the first one and smiled at the same picture of the rag-tag group of fighters that she had first seen in the book. Flipping through the next few, she saw his wan mother propped up on a bed with a younger Neville beside her, a rather nice shot of his grandmother at a garden party with a group of equally old and wrinkled society witches, and a picture of the Weasley family including Neville.
Holding the picture up, she smiled at the inclusion of this man who obviously already fit so well into her family. It was obvious that the children loved him, considering that they were all fighting to stand beside him.
After the final child was sorted out and the fun began again, she sat the picture down to see the last one. It took her breath away. Twilight was just starting to fall and a girl thoughtfully watched the change from a small window. She wiped at a tear and put her head on her arms.
"I take it he's not in here." Ron had let her have a few minutes to herself but now came into the room and took a look around for himself.
She sat the other frames down on the chair and turned around. "No. He's not. I feel very sorry for him looking at this place."
"Yes. He's never really liked this job." They looked around the room, both contemplating the man they knew, each in such a different way. "There are a few indications around here of the man he really is, though. That plant over there by the window, for example. It's probably the best kept plant you'll ever find in an office building."
The green leaves of the flourishing plant shone in the sunlight streaming through the glass. It was fake light, of course, being that this level was underground, but it looked real enough. The view of green, lush lawn completed the peaceful seating area.
"Why is he here?"
"I would think that would be obvious. It kept him close to you. Until recently, it was a job that was purely about making sure we found you and you were safe."
She couldn't keep back the sarcastic little laugh. "I don't believe you. I mean I understand that you were all worried about me but I can't believe that the Ministry cared enough that they paid someone a salary for four years to look for me."
"Believe it, Gin. Actually, it helped other people in the process."
"By giving them a job that allowed them to wander the streets of London to get their exercise?"
"Funny. It gave people a reason to go on when everything still seemed bleak. Sure, we were sad but there was a reason we got up each day and kept going. Life went on. It took something like this to remind us of that.'
She shook her head and sat in the chair behind the desk, the only empty chair in the room. "I'm tired of being this great redeemer, Ron. It's getting old. I'm just a girl who's having trouble figuring out what her next move is. Is it enough that I ask for one second to think my options through?"
"You had four years. Isn't that enough time?"
"No." With her head bent forward, she looked at the picture still in her grip. The girl continued to wipe her tears and sigh at the moon. This girl was afraid to look toward the future. "I didn't have four years. The rest of you had something to look forward to doing each day. You had each other to lean on and depend on to help you through the hard times. I didn't have that. When you moved forward, I stayed in the same place."
"You're right. I'm sorry."
"Now leave me alone."
"No."
"Ron, I have to figure out my next step."
The man cleared one of the chairs with a swift motion and sat down. "We'll figure this out together. Like you said, you didn't have anyone to help you move forward. Now you do."
For a heart-stopping moment, Ginny thought she was going to start weeping. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry today. "Thank you. It's nice to know that I'm going to move forward. I'm tired of standing still."
Chapter 9: Today Will Be Different
Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops...at all. –Emily Dickinson
"You never call. You never write. You never come up to this part of the building. I've been hanging on this wall for three years now. I thought you'd at least visit."
Neville tried to remember to breath as he looked at his old friend. The cheeky grin was there as were the green eyes glittering with laughter behind the glasses and the stark scar. It was like the hero had never left, only stepped into his Quidditch robes for a moment of rest in the middle of a pitch.
"I didn't mean to kiss her, Harry." His face grew red as he realized what he had just said.
"Sure you did. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you kissed her. She needs to move on." Harry, resplendent in his crimson uniform threw a calm bludger up and down with ease. "Why are you still here, Neville? Why aren't you at your house, planning a summer wedding?"
"I was thinking fall." This was lunacy. He was talking to a portrait about a girl they both loved. "The leaves of the oaks would match her hair."
"There you go. Already a step in the right direction."
"This is insane. Aren't you angry that I love your girl?"
"My girl? Not anymore, mate. Not anymore. She's yours. That is, if you want her. You're going to have to work on her, I think. She's a feisty one. I think you should skip your meeting and go back to your office. Plan on taking a long lunch."
"But I have this meeting..."
Harry laughed and shrugged. "Leave the papers there. They'll get them eventually. Just do me a favor, mate. Come by and visit sometime. It gets lonely in this area of the ministry."
"Why don't you, you know, move around in the other portraits?"
The deep chuckle bounced around the empty hallway. "Don't worry. I get around. It's just better if I stay in the background. It keeps from having too many unwanted visitors. It's just nice to have visitors here in my little hallway."
"Wonder if the guys who work up here would like that you call this your little hallway."
"You forget something, Neville. I'm Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The blokes who work here love that I call it my hallway." The cocky grin was firmly back in place but his eyes were sad. "I've got a hallway. You've got a long life with a beautiful girl. Go, Neville, before I start to rethink this idea."
"Miss Weasley, you're going to have to sign in before I can let you go through this door."
"But, you don't understand. I need-"
The guard stood in the middle of the doorway, refusing to let either Ginny or Ron by. They had tried arguing, cajoling and whining. Ron was now digging in his pockets to try bribing.
"You've seen my credentials. Why can't that be good enough? We won't be here long. The Minister of Muggle Relations is waiting to see us."
"Sign in and I'll be more than happy to let you escort Miss Weasley to the appropriate office."
"I'm not a threat to the peace of the wizarding community. Why won't you let me by?"
"Sign in-"
"You keep saying that!" Her face was red now and the urge to grab her brother's wand was high. "Do you like your job?"
It was useless for her to threaten this man, but she felt that she was getting nowhere. She would have signed in when she first came in but she and Ron had discussed it and the fact that she had been away for so long, the time it would take to get the appropriate badge would be better served just trying to get by the guard. Now she wasn't so sure.
"I do like my job. That doesn't mean you can't sign in."
Ron tried to calm her down but she pushed away his hands. "No, I don't think you understand. I need to-"
"Is there a problem here?"
Ginny heard her brother's sharp intake of breath at the new arrival but she was watching the guard to pay much attention. He had gone white and his posture tightened.
"No, sir. No problem."
"There is a problem here and..." her voice drifted as she looked up - and up. The tall, black man towered over them all, even Ron. "Kingsley?"
"If it isn't little Ginny Weasley. What're you doing here? Come to visit your father?"
"No, I'm trying to get through to see Neville but I seem to have run into a bit of a snag."
"I've got this, Craig. Let her through."
"But, sir-"
The fierce eyes and lowered brow backed the guard against the wall, opening up a pathway for the siblings. A pair of goblins edged past them, grumbling about youngsters and rude manners. Ginny found she was unsure of her next step now that they had crossed the biggest barrier. She was in but where did that leave her? With little hesitation, she fell into step beside the large man. Once, she had known him as a fellow fighter of justice. It wasn't a deep friendship, but enough of one that she felt compelled to know how he had been since she had seen him last.
"How've you been, Kingsley?"
"Good." He looked at her without turning his head. "I'd show you pictures but we're almost there."
"Pictures? I want to see pictures. Can I assume that you and Tonks...." She lifted her eyebrow and smiled up at him.
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he pulled out his wallet and began pulling out pictures of his pink-haired wife and children.
"We just had our third last month. The twins will be three in August." The little group waved at them from a group of trees, the two little boys changing the location of their ears. "As you can see, they take after their mother a little more than we would like."
"The baby is precious. Be sure to give Tonks my love."
"I will. Stay safe, Ginny."
The door to Neville's department loomed in front of her as she handed the photos back and returned the sentiment. This is what she wanted to do. Why was she feeling so ill?
Ron, who had followed after them, stepped to the door, blocking it with his body.
"Move, Ron. Now you're in my way."
"I just want to make sure this is what you want." His eyes were fierce as he gazed at his little sister. He knew this was what she needed to do but he couldn't bear to have her heart hurt once again. "If you aren't ready for this, I can take you back to, uh, well, wherever you wanted to go."
"And where will that be, Ron? I can't go back to his house and live in his library for the rest of my life and I don't want to go to my flat."
"You have options, hon. Lots and lots of options. Mum and Dad would love to have you back with them and Hermione and I would take you in a heart beat."
"That's not the kind of life I want. Going back home to be cosseted like the fragile little daughter is not what I've spent the last twenty-three years preparing for. And if I stay with you two, I'll have to spend time with each one of the others. Can you see it? I'll never have a home of my own if you all have your way."
Her light eyes snapping, she tried to contain the bitterness at the thought of being passed around like a child's toy. Leave it to her family to try to keep her ten and innocent. What she really wanted was through those doors. It was settled.
"Move. I'm not going back with you so you can quit looking at me like that. I'll let you take care of me some other time."
His hand caressed her cheek. "I don't think I'll ever get to take care of you. You do too good a job at it."
With a quick kiss on the cheek, she pushed him out of the way and ran to the first person she could see.
"Excuse me, is this Neville Longbottom's office?"
The mousy woman lifted her head and stared at the flame-haired girl for a second before dropping her eyes back to her desk. "Yes, but-"
"Thank you," she said over her shoulder as she walked into the inner office. The room felt strangely empty, void of all character of its usual occupant. A large desk dominated the room, piled high with papers and folders while the two chairs normally reserved for guests were holding a variety of stacked picture frames that should have normally graced the overwhelmed piece of furniture.
She picked up the first one and smiled at the same picture of the rag-tag group of fighters that she had first seen in the book. Flipping through the next few, she saw his wan mother propped up on a bed with a younger Neville beside her, a rather nice shot of his grandmother at a garden party with a group of equally old and wrinkled society witches, and a picture of the Weasley family including Neville.
Holding the picture up, she smiled at the inclusion of this man who obviously already fit so well into her family. It was obvious that the children loved him, considering that they were all fighting to stand beside him.
After the final child was sorted out and the fun began again, she sat the picture down to see the last one. It took her breath away. Twilight was just starting to fall and a girl thoughtfully watched the change from a small window. She wiped at a tear and put her head on her arms.
"I take it he's not in here." Ron had let her have a few minutes to herself but now came into the room and took a look around for himself.
She sat the other frames down on the chair and turned around. "No. He's not. I feel very sorry for him looking at this place."
"Yes. He's never really liked this job." They looked around the room, both contemplating the man they knew, each in such a different way. "There are a few indications around here of the man he really is, though. That plant over there by the window, for example. It's probably the best kept plant you'll ever find in an office building."
The green leaves of the flourishing plant shone in the sunlight streaming through the glass. It was fake light, of course, being that this level was underground, but it looked real enough. The view of green, lush lawn completed the peaceful seating area.
"Why is he here?"
"I would think that would be obvious. It kept him close to you. Until recently, it was a job that was purely about making sure we found you and you were safe."
She couldn't keep back the sarcastic little laugh. "I don't believe you. I mean I understand that you were all worried about me but I can't believe that the Ministry cared enough that they paid someone a salary for four years to look for me."
"Believe it, Gin. Actually, it helped other people in the process."
"By giving them a job that allowed them to wander the streets of London to get their exercise?"
"Funny. It gave people a reason to go on when everything still seemed bleak. Sure, we were sad but there was a reason we got up each day and kept going. Life went on. It took something like this to remind us of that.'
She shook her head and sat in the chair behind the desk, the only empty chair in the room. "I'm tired of being this great redeemer, Ron. It's getting old. I'm just a girl who's having trouble figuring out what her next move is. Is it enough that I ask for one second to think my options through?"
"You had four years. Isn't that enough time?"
"No." With her head bent forward, she looked at the picture still in her grip. The girl continued to wipe her tears and sigh at the moon. This girl was afraid to look toward the future. "I didn't have four years. The rest of you had something to look forward to doing each day. You had each other to lean on and depend on to help you through the hard times. I didn't have that. When you moved forward, I stayed in the same place."
"You're right. I'm sorry."
"Now leave me alone."
"No."
"Ron, I have to figure out my next step."
The man cleared one of the chairs with a swift motion and sat down. "We'll figure this out together. Like you said, you didn't have anyone to help you move forward. Now you do."
For a heart-stopping moment, Ginny thought she was going to start weeping. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry today. "Thank you. It's nice to know that I'm going to move forward. I'm tired of standing still."