Ginny groaned as she folded yet another cardboard box, the rough edges scratching harshly against her fingertips as she lost her grip on the edge of a flap. She could hear Ron trudge up the steps, bringing the new shipment of packing materials. She glanced around the room. Cardboard containers, waiting to be filled, littered the immaculate room. There were no posters hanging on the walls, no trinkets to litter the bureau tops. There wasn't really much to pack away- but she was sure that Neville would want his own stuff and not the second hand furniture and knick-knacks that had belonged to Percy.
It almost seemed wrong for her to be in here- no one but her mother came into this room. The air still lingered with Percy: crisp and somehow bursting with correctness. He was always right about the unimportant things.
Ron kicked the door opened and paused at the frame, only for a moment. He walked through and dropped the plastic crates on the ground with a heavy thud on the gray carpet. "Seems weird to be in here. I wonder if this is how George and Fred felt when they had to move Bill and Charlie's stuff out of their room." He bent down and finished off the last box for Ginny. "Somehow, I don't think so," she replied. Ron stood back up and ran a hand across the top of the tall bookcase. He turned back to Ginny, his finger pointed. "Not a bit of dust," he smirked and shook his head. He began pulling the books from the shelf- elderly schoolbooks tortured with spellotape and books on how to succeed. Ginny picked up a box and opened up the closet. With all of Percy's clothes gone, the bar was now taken over by baby clothing, toddler clothing, kid clothing. Little jumpers that they had all worn and outgrown, coveralls and robes that her mother couldn't bear to throw away, party dresses she had saved in the hopes that there would be another little girl somewhere in the future. All in the box. She pulled one out in particular, the red ribbons frayed and tangled on the dainty white lace. She had worn this dress at Percy's 10th birthday.
He had been so different from all the little kids. Quiet and reserved, almost embarrassed by the party around him. The cake arrived and a wide smile cracked on his face. It was a smile she had a hard time remembering- it had been a long time since that wide, infectious grin had been replaced with a snooty, condescending smirk.
"Oi, Ginny. Check this out." Ginny let the dress fall through her fingers and into the crate. She walked over to Ron. He was turning a thick leather book in his hands, inspecting it from every angles. He opened the cover and dust shot out, sprinkling the sunlight with particles. "Percy Ignatius Weasley, Year 18, Diary #2. Did you know Percy kept a diary, Gin?" he asked before flipping through the first couple of pages. Ginny shook her head and stretched up to peer into the journal. Drawings covered the pages- buildings and people, all shaded with an expert hands. Words decorated the margins, all in his super neat, textbook script. "I didn't know he could draw," Ginny said simply. Ron shrugged. "Me neither. Holy... he knew something was up. Look." Ron ran his finger under a line of text.
"Mr. Crouch has been acting strange and secluded as of late. Gareth agrees, but adds that he may be going through a mid-life crisis. Crisis my arse. He's assigned me the same project twice. I've seen stress, and that isn't it. Stress is giving me three extra projects when he knows I already have 3 in the works. I wonder if I should bring this to the Minister's attention. Is this worthy enough to be notified of?"
Ron stopped. "Well, not half as daft as we thought," Ron snapped before closing the book. He let it drop into the box and began to pull the covers off the bed. Ginny picked it back up and flipped through the pages. "Dear God... Ron," Ginny shoved the book back at him. Ron's eyes widened as he read through the last couple of pages. Violent images of kids strapped to beds, needles poking in them. Death eaters firing spells at children, their words in comic bubbles over their head. Cruciatus, Imperius, cutting curses, curses Ron couldn't recognize. And on one page, a single face, etched to almost lifelike quality. Ginny gasped and nearly fell back. Ron dropped the book and bent over her, but Ginny waved him off. "I'm okay, I'm fine," she heaved as she tried to get some breath back into her. Ron gave her a quizzical look. She shook her head and sat up. "How could he... shit, Ron, that was Tom... older, but... Merlin..." Ginny trailed off.
Ron picked up the book and examined the page. The face of the enemy. His eyes had been shaded as dark as the quill would allow, and they seemed to be glaring and smirking from the page. Looking as if he knew exactly how to rip out your soul. The eyes Harry looked into everyday.
Ron turned the page and the neat script became hurried, the drawings rougher. Pictures of the people in action, the same 4 people. A man sits in bed, his arms tied down. A woman in robes talking with friends. The same woman feeding a puppy. Another man reading a book on a lumpy couch. A different woman's face peeking from a sleek car, then from behind a window. Little symbols decorate the page instead of words. And then, pages completely blacked out with ink.
"I have no choice."
"The date he left," Ginny said. Ron turned around abruptly, almost losing his footing in surprise. He had forgotten she was here. "I knew it," he said quietly. His face flushed brilliant red. "I knew he wouldn't... he had a reason for leaving and it wasn't that he thought Dad was a nutter and that denial of You Know Who... I fucking knew it," he spit out. He stood up, fury decorated on his face. He turned back to Ginny suddenly. "There is something going on here, and I'm not staying in the dark about this. Have no choice what?" Ron walked across the carpet and threw open the door. "MUM!" he bellowed. She was already in the doorway, a forlorn look on her face.
"Audrey Longbottom passed away 20 minuted ago." Molly looked around the bedroom and at her furious son. "I need you two to finish up this room soon, Neville's going to be arriving tomorrow." All the passion dropped out of Ron's face. He swung his head towards Ginny, who gave him a pointed look. "Right, mum. 'Course," he replied, before turning to Ginny. She picked up the top most quilt and folded it.
The day was annoyingly sunny for such a morose occasion. The fog had parted over the cemetery, revealing a brilliant blue sky. Flowers decorated the entire area: graceful lilies, bushy hydrangeas and brilliant violets. Neville couldn't believe how many people had shown up. Great Uncle Algie and his numerous children stood at his side. Old co-workers, a great deal of ministry people he hardly recognized, gathered around the end of the coffin, standing stoic and uncomfortable in black clothes. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Ginny and Ron stood on the other side of the minister, along with Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas.
Neville wiggled a bit in her heavy robe. He wasn't paying much attention to the sermon he was given. He wasn't paying much attention to anything. His fingers twiddled around in his pocket, his hand clutching around a scrap of paper. A wrapper. He imagined his grandmother thought it would be a comfort with her edge of humor. It only served to reiterate the fact that he was alone in the world, with only a candy wrapper to show for it. She had given it to him and smiled. "You will be fine, my boy. I always thought... but I know you will be alright." She hadn't spoken in a month and she hadn't spoken since. A cousin of his nudged him from behind and jolted Neville from his reverie. He looked up at the expectant faces and felt all the color drain from his face. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.
"Thank you all for attending this morning. I know that she would have appreciated all of your sentiment, and would have haunted you for the rest of your days had you not attended." A quiet giggle went through the group and Neville gave a wry smile. "I just wanted to thank all of you for your support and concern the last couple of months." He ran out of words; he gave a small bow and looked back up to the priest, who concluded the funeral.
He shook hands with people he could hardly recollect. He gave a small grin when his classmates came up. "Sorry to hear about your gran, Nev," Seamus gave him a pat on the back. Neville shook his head and gave a small smile. "Thanks for coming, guys. I really appreciate it," he said softly. "Eh, what are friends for?" Dean replied, shaking his hand and thumping him gently on the shoulder. Ginny gave Dean a kiss on the cheek and went to hug Neville. She pulled him in tight and rubbed his back like her mom would do with them. Neville's eyes closed and he seemed to take the hug in and relax. "We got the room all ready for tonight- Dad went over earlier today to get your furniture," Ron said quietly, giving him a manly hug. "Your moving in with Ron?" Seamus asked. Neville nodded. "Dumbledore thinks it'll be safer," Neville replied. Nothing else needed to be explained- Dean and Seamus had heard bits and pieces of the sixth year incident from Ron, Neville and Ginny. "Eh, me and Dean went in on a bit of a present for you," Seamus reached into his robes and pulled out a smallish bottle of Ogden's Old. Neville's face broke into a smile and he patted Seamus on the back. "You're such a git. Thanks, guys." He took the bottle and ripped off the top. He took a slash and felt it burn down his throat. He handed the bottle back to Seamus and took in a breath. "Save it for the reception," Neville said gruffly before being swept away by a relative.
A few hours later had found Ron, Ginny and Neville in Neville's new bedroom. The bottle of Ogden's was gone, and Neville eye's were awfully unfocused. He was slumped against the wooden bedframe, his hand tracing circles on the carpet. Ron was leaning against the bookshelf, his ears matching Ginny's red nose. She was nearly passed out in the frayed armchair next to the closet. "Oh... mum's going to hex me tomorrow when we all walk down to breakfast completely hungover," Ron wailed, taking a glass of water from an empty shelf and downing it. "I don't care. I feel much...well, I'm not feeling much now below my neck... but my arm's moving... that's strange," Neville remarked, his head lolling about the overhanging comforter. A loud snort came from the armchair and Ginny fell out of it. She hit the ground with a thud and she clutched her head. "I think I'm going to hex you tomorrow. How could you let me drink all that?" Ginny complained, having a hard time trying to get up on her knees. "Do you think Seamus, Dean and Luna are gonna be okay?" Ron asked to no one in particular. Silence. "Yeah. Bugger 'em," he answered himself.
"Where's Harry and Hermione?" Neville asked, suddenly alert. "Oh... Hermione's somewhere... no'ne will tell us. Harry's being Mr. Depressed and isn't taking his letters," Ginny replied, having given up on standing and resolving herself to be kneeling with her head on the ground. Neville nodded. Tears started to go down his cheeks. "I miss my gran," he mumbled and tried to drink the empty bottle of Ogden's. Ron stumbled over and slid down with a grunt next to Neville. He looped an arm around his shoulders. "No worries... she's in a good place. With a vulture hat on," he remarked seriously. Ginny fell over and looked at Neville from the ground. "Yeah, Nev. It'll be okay. We'll take care of ya now," Ginny reached out and patted the only piece of Neville she could reach- his foot. Neville smiled and let his head smack back against the wood. "Alright, let's get you to bed, Nev." Ron pushed himself upright and gripped Neville around the arms, lugging him up and tossing him on the bed. He groaned as Ron pulled off his shoes and moved his legs onto the bed. "Night Ron, Night Gin," Nev mumbled from the pillow. Ron bent down and put his arms under Ginny's shoulders and knees. She snorted loudly and started snoring as Ron lifted her up and carried her out of the room.
Author's Note: The plot has thickened slightly, like jello after adding the cold water... mmmm, jello... review please! I wuv you!