Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related names and places are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thank you all again so much. This, quite thankfully, is the final chapter. I hope you have enjoyed it. It is a rather sad, depressing tale, I know. I did take into consideration all of your pleading for a happy ending, but I couldn't just let the fluff overtake me. I think my original statement about "no happy endings" may have been a bit misleading. I didn't necessarily mean no happy ending whatsoever, but it isn't all fluff and marshmallows.

Ginny yawned widely, but continued to wipe down the table. She wanted desperately to go home and crawl into her bed. Looking at the clock, she groaned. There were still two more hours on this shift. Her feet were aching, she was sure that her spine was permanently curved from standing over the tables, and her head was pounding.

"Miss? Miss!"

She looked over to the old witch seated in the corner. "Yes, can I help you?" It wasn't easy to be polite at ten o'clock in the evening, but Ginny was trying desperately.

"I'm still waiting for that order. You promised it to me half an hour ago!"

"Damn," Ginny whispered under her breath. "I'm so sorry. I'll go and get it now." She pushed her way through the crowd and back to the kitchen. "Tom, I need that takeout order for table seventeen."

"What order?"

"The one I gave you…" She stopped as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper. On it was written the woman's order; she had taken it nearly forty-five minutes earlier, but never turned it in. "The one I never gave you, apparently." Handing the paper to the older man, she tried not to meet his eyes.

"Ginny, this is the fifth time tonight. Are you sure that you are all right working two shifts? You've been slipping ever since I let you take both of them on."

Taking a deep breath, she spoke through gritted teeth. "I've told you, I'm fine. Now, I need this as soon as you can get it." Ginny turned on her heel and began to clear another table.

Ever since the day she found out about her father, Ginny's life had been worse than she'd ever thought possible. That afternoon, she had begged and pleaded with Tom to allow her to work from open to close. She'd sworn him to secrecy about the reason.

The fight with her father that evening had been horrible. Never once in her life did she remember raising her voice to him, and he had never raised his to her before. The shouting, however, had been enough to wake the dead.

"That might not have been such a bad thing, though. Maybe Mum could have straightened things out."

Arthur had told her, very eloquently, to mind her own damned business. He was an adult and would do what he pleased, thank you very much. As far as his job was concerned, he'd always hated working for the Ministry anyway. He could find something much better to do with his time.

All the while, Ginny was trying not to be sick from the pungent odor of alcohol that surrounded him. She'd shouted until her throat was raw. How could he have done this? Did he not care that they were in debt so severely that the house could be sold from under them? Did he not care that he was forcing his seventeen-year-old daughter to work two jobs just to keep the finances together? Did he not care that he was humiliating their family every night that he went out?

It had been that remark that had triggered something in Arthur. He had turned cold eyes on his daughter and said the most horrible thing Ginny could have imagined.

"And I suppose you running around; acting like the Heir of Slytherin, trying to kill people is something to be proud of?"

Ginny had stood, tears blinding her, not able to reply. She looked at him, suddenly not recognizing the man in front of her. Her father; her loving, devoted, sweet father could never have said anything as hurtful as that. They both stood in silence for a long while. At last, Arthur turned on his heel and left the house. Ginny climbed into bed, truly not caring for the first time, whether he ever came home again. Come home he did though, banging against the furniture in the dark and swearing at the top of his lungs.

They hadn't spoken to each other since that day. Ginny left for work long before Arthur ever thought of waking up, and was home long after he had left with his drinking mate for the evening. Rumor of his behavior was beginning to spread. Ginny often swore people were giving her, what were supposed to be, carefully concealed looks of pity. She's learned to act as thought her life were perfectly normal and that she was simply working like mad to ready herself for life after Hogwarts. That excuse seemed to appease everyone but Harry.

Harry, of course, knew something more was going on. He questioned her incessantly, never believing her feeble excuse of wanting to live on her own. She'd nearly broken down several times and told him the truth, but she knew she couldn't bear to see the pitying looks he would give her. Moreover, telling Harry meant telling her brothers and that wasn't an option. So, things had become distant between them. Several nights a week, he would brave the staring, whispering patrons of the Leaky Cauldron and come to see her. Ginny found she didn't mind this so much; she was generally so busy that they rarely had time to speak. She carefully declined any offers for dinner, stating that Tom simply couldn't spare her before closing. Harry had even told her that she was welcome to stay at his flat if she became too tired to apparate home, but Ginny had reluctantly said no. She wanted desperately to sleep in his embrace again, but there would be too many awkward questions she couldn't answer. In the end, she found it best to simply push him as far out of her life as she could. In a sense, she began to understand why Harry had always tried to distance himself from the people that cared for him.

Ginny handed the woman the bag of food, apologizing repeatedly for the delay. She was grateful that Christmas was only a week away; people seemed to be much more forgiving this time of year. Just as that thought came to her, she realized what Christmas would mean. Her family would be returning home, and she was at a loss of how to contain the horrible situation she was in. Surely, the boys would wonder where their father was disappearing to every night. Maybe she could play dumb; pretend that she'd never known he was going out at night…

"Hey there, anybody home?"

Ginny blinked and stepped back. Harry was waving a hand in front of her face, with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, sorry, I was a million miles away." Damn! It was Friday night, and she'd forgotten that he was stopping by.

"That's nothing new," Ginny heard Harry say, under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny didn't miss the brief look of regret that passed over his face. "Well, I just mean that you're always in this little world of yours. It's like no one else exists half the time."

Pulling her wand from her pocket, she pointed it at a stack of plates on a far table. Her anger was rising and caused the spell to have a bit more zeal than she'd planned. The dishes crashed to the floor. "Bloody hell and damnation!"

"Ginny, what on earth?" Tom had come running from the back room at the sound. He looked down on the pile of broken china and back up at Ginny.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I just got a bit carried away. I'll have it cleaned up in no time."

The old man shook his head and pushed her wand down. "Never mind this; I'll take care of it. You've had an owl in the back." He lifted his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look. "It seemed important; so I suggest you go and open it now."

Ginny sighed; she knew what it was already. Without a glance at Harry, she stormed back into the employee's room. A smoking red envelope was lying on the small table. Casting a quick silencing charm, she braced herself and broke the seal. A woman's voice filled the room.

"MISS GINEVRA WEASLEY! IT SEEMS THAT YOU HAVE IGNORED ALL OUR OTHER ATTEMPTS TO CONTACT YOU! IT APPEARS ALSO THAT YOU ARE NOT A WOMAN WHO KEEPS HER WORD! IF YOU WILL REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT FROM NOVEMBER, MONEY IS TO BE TAKEN OUT OF YOUR FAMILY'S ACCOUNT EACH WEEK TO PAY THE AMOUNT YOUR FAMILY OWES US. HOWEVER, IT SEEMS THAT THE ACCOUNT HAS BEEN CLOSED. WE HAVE RECEIVED NO EXPLANATION FOR THIS, NOR ANY FORM OF PAYMENT. IF WE DO NOT HEAR FROM YOU BY THE END OF DECEMBER, WE WILL BE FORCED TO TAKE DRASTIC MEASURES." The woman's voice dropped to a pleasant tone. "Good day to you and have a Happy Christmas."

The envelope burst into flames, and Ginny's tears mixed with the ashes on the floor. Things were really spiraling out of control now. This was the third howler she'd received in a week. Swiping furiously at her tears, she pulled her wand and sent the ashes to the trash bin. Everything inside of her wanted to simply collapse to the floor, collapse and cry until someone came and found her. They would hold her tightly as she told them what was troubling her. Then they would smooth back her hair and kiss her forehead; telling her that everything would be fine and she needn't worry herself about it anymore.

However, that wasn't going to happen. The only people to have ever done that were her parents, but now her mother was gone and her father couldn't even handle his troubles. No, she was all alone now. She would hold her head up and walk from this room, never showing that she was falling apart on the inside. Ginny smoothed her clothes and took several deep breaths. Pulling open the door and stepping out, she collided with someone.

"Damn!" She clapped a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid my brothers have had a bad effect on…" Stopping short when she saw her victim, Ginny frowned. "Eavesdropping is a new low for you, isn't it Harry?" Ginny pulled her hair back and twisted it up as she marched off down the hall.

"I wasn't eavesdropping! I came to see if you were all right. Sorry for actually caring about you!"

The redhead whipped around and eyed Harry. "No one asked you to. I'm perfectly fine and I certainly wouldn't need help from you if something was wrong." With narrowed eyes, she walked up to Harry. Ginny continued talking, but her voice was dangerously low. "Since you apparently haven't realized it, let me point something out to you. You keep coming here, even after I've told you not to bother. You keep trying to talk to me when I've expressly told you that I don't want to talk. You keep asking me out no matter how many times I turn your offers down. So let me say this, and listen very carefully because I'm only going to say it once. Whatever you thought there was between us; forget about it. It was fun, but now it's over." She stared him down, waiting for any comment.

Harry said nothing for a moment; only staring at her with a look that Ginny couldn't decipher. When he spoke, his voice was calm. "Well, if that's how you feel, I suppose there isn't anything I can do about it. Let me say this though; no matter how much you try to convince yourself and everyone around you, something is wrong. I just wish you would admit it, and let the people who care about you help."

Ginny stood, tight lipped, and then spoke. "I don't need your help, or anyone else's." She marched off and never saw Harry bend to pick up a piece of parchment and then Apparate away.

The next hour and a half passed by quickly, mainly because Ginny was in a towering temper and didn't watch the clock. She tossed her apron onto the chair in the backroom and snatched up her bag. She was going home and crawling into bed and pretending she was someone else, if only for a few hours.

"Good night, Ginny. Do get some sleep, child. You look like death warmed over."

She knew Tom meant well, but his constant fussing over her had nearly driven Ginny mad. She waved a hand at him, and Apparated with a loud crack.

Ending up a few feet from her usual Apparition spot didn't surprise her. With a head full of worry and guilt, it was pure luck that she hadn't been splinched. Ginny pulled out her wand, preparing to unlock the door, when Harry's voice called out to her.

Spinning around on him, the now fully irritated redhead pointed her wand directly at his face. "You just don't get it, do you? I said to go away and leave me alone. That generally means longer than two hours! Now, go and let me sleep."

Instead of the hurt look Ginny had expected, Harry seemed livid. His breath was quick and uneven, and his eyes blazed. Shoving a piece of parchment in her face, he nearly shouted. "Not until you've explained this!"

She took the paper from him, and instantly realized what it was. "I…I don't have anything to explain to you! You're not my father!"

"Quitting school! What are you thinking? Does your father even know about this?"

"I told you that it was none of your business! Besides, I remember you considering leaving school not so long ago!"

"The circumstances are a bit different, Ginny! What could be so wrong that you couldn't go back to school?" Harry's face was growing redder as he shouted at her.

Ginny opened her mouth, but realized she should calm down or the whole, horrible truth would spill out. "I just don't see the point. I have a good job; I can support myself. George is doing just fine and he didn't finish school, either!" Trying to sound indifferent, she drew herself up as if to dare him to argue further.

Just as Harry was about to counter her point, a raucous singing filled the air.

Dread shot through Ginny. "No, please, not now! Not with him here!" She panicked and began to push Harry. "You have to leave, now. I want you to go…"

Harry resisted her and spun in all directions, looking for the source of the terrible music. "Who is that?"

A chorus of "Hoggy Warty Hogwarts" filled the air. The singers were getting closer, and Ginny knew that any moment Harry would figure it all out. She thought about grabbing his wrist and trying to Apparate in tandem. They would more than likely be splinched, but at least it would avoid the situation that was about to happen.

"Is that your dad…with…?" Harry squinted his eyes to get a better look, but Ginny pulled him around so he couldn't see. "Ginny, stop! Who's that he's with?" He shook her off easily, and walked in the direction of the two staggering men. Ginny raced after him, pleading with him. She begged him to go home and she would explain everything the next day.

"Mr. Weasley? Mundungus?" Harry frowned at them, and then coughed as the smell of alcohol hit him. "Merlin's sake! How much have you had tonight?"

Ginny was going to wretch. She felt the bile rising up as she watched her father try to throw his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Hrrymby! Whtwondrsurpsir!" Arthur's words came out so slurred that Ginny hadn't even known what he'd said.

"Mr.Weasley, you're completely smashed! Look at the both of you! How did you get back here?"

Mundungus walked up and pulled Arthur off Harry. He didn't seem to be quite as bad; his speech was somewhat coherent. "Knight Bus at first. They got mad when we got loud, so they kicked us off. Walked most…" That was all that came out before he gave a heave and wretched everywhere.

Harry tried to jump out of the way, while pulling Arthur with him. Ginny closed her eyes, and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. She wished to die at that very moment. There was no backing out of the truth now. It was staring Harry in the face, and some of it even landed on his shoe. Ginny opened her eyes and watched her father take a great drink from a bottle of amber liquid.

Mundungus made a grab for it, but Harry pushed him away. "I think you've had enough. Go home and sleep it off, Dung."

As Harry pushed Mundungus away, Ginny watched her father fumble with the bottle again. Rushing forward, she was determined to stop him. She made a grab for it, but he pulled away. Continuing to fight her father for possession, Ginny started to shout.

"No, dad! Stop this! Give it to me!" They pushed and shoved each other, Ginny's yelling growing louder. Just as she attempted to get control again, Arthur swung the bottle around.

Crack!

Ginny stumbled and fell to the ground. Her hands immediately went to her cheek. She could feel the warm blood seeping through her fingers. The bottle had made sharp contact with her left cheekbone.

"Ginny!" Harry's voice rang through the night, and a second later, he was by her side. "Shit! Here, let me see!"

Harry tried to pry her hands from her face, but Ginny held them steadfast. Her eyes were trained on her father.

Arthur stood, looking down at his daughter. His face bore no expression; he just stood silent and still. Finally, he let the bottle fall to the ground and began walking towards the house.

"Shit, Ginny, this looks bad."

Ginny jerked back to reality, as Harry touched her cheek. She recoiled in pain and looked up at him. His face was pale, and he looked panicked.

"You need to get to the hospital. Come on, I'll take you." He took her arm and hauled her to her feet.

"No, there is plenty of medical stuff in the house. I can fix it up in a few minutes. Could you look in on Dad for me, though?"

Harry looked at her wildly. "Ginny you're bleeding horribly. This could be serious!"

"I know, but just let me take care of it for now. If it doesn't stop soon, I swear I'll go with you." She looked back at him with eyes full of tears. "Please, Harry, just go and make sure he's alright."

Harry nodded, still looking at her oddly. After helping her into the house and sitting her down in the bathroom, Harry began to search the house.

Ginny looked at herself in the mirror. The left side of her face was caked with blood. Her hands were stained, and more continued to pour out. The whole thing was starting to swell, and a sickly purple color was coming up around her eye. She wet a cloth and pressed it to her face, only to scream in pain. Harry hurtled into the bathroom.

"I'm okay, Harry. Did you find Dad?" Talking was difficult, but she tried not to yell again.

"Yes, he's upstairs already passed out in bed. Here let me do it." Harry took the cloth and gently touched her face, trying to wipe away the blood. Jerking back at his touch, Ginny tried not to cry. "Alright let me see; it doesn't look as bad as I thought. I still think you need a healer to look at it."

"No, really. We have a pretty well stocked medical bag. Mum always had to patch the boys and me up. Look up there, top shelf. It's a big box." She pointed to a closet door, just outside the bathroom. Harry came back second later, holding the box.

Ginny pulled out several bottles and a roll of bandages. "I just need to clean it out and then I can heal it." When Harry gave her another strange look, she tried not to smile. "Mum made sure we knew some simple healing charms."

"Here, let me do it. I know a few myself."

Ginny sat back and let Harry cleanse her wound. Using his wand, he sealed up the gash. "Well, it's not perfect, and it'll probably scar. You really should let a trained Healer do it."

"It will be fine." Ginny stood and looked in the mirror again. A long, angry red line ran the length or her cheekbone. She felt as if she were standing outside her own body, watching the scene unfold. Shaking her head lightly, she came around and realized what had just happened. Clutching her cheek, she began to sob uncontrollably.

Harry stood and gathered her in his arms. Ginny sobbed into his shoulder, ignoring the pain in her face. All the tears that she'd kept inside for so long came pouring out. She didn't realize that Harry had led her out of the bathroom and sat her on the sofa, until a fire blazed to life in the fireplace. Harry still held fast to her, allowing her to soak his shirt with her tears.

Pulling away from her, he smoothed her hair and looked into her eyes. "Now, are you going to explain all of this to me?"

Ginny nodded mutely, and tried to pull herself together. She found that once she started, the story became easier to tell. By the time she'd finished, her tears had started again, but she felt better.

"I swear, Harry, I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn't want everyone thinking I was that poor, helpless little girl again!"

"Ginny, I seriously doubt that anyone has thought of you as a helpless little girl for a long time. You should have trusted someone, Ginny. You should have trusted your brothers; they are just as involved in this as you are. They may not be here, but you are all still family. Families are always there for one another." He gave her nose a tweak, knowing she hated that, and smiled at her. "They're even there for the strays they take in over the years."

She really tried hard not to smile, but when she did, she winced in pain. "How am I going to tell them?"

"We'll figure it out together. You're not alone in this anymore."

It's been six years since that night. The memory of it still stands out vividly in my mind. Harry was right; I wasn't alone anymore. Together, we sent urgent owls to my brothers asking them to come home immediately. The following morning, I confronted my father. It was worse than I imagined it to be. We both cried and yelled a lot. In the end, my father came to realize what he was putting not only me through, but also himself.

The boys were home that afternoon and we sat down and discussed everything. To my surprise, they did not scold me or chastise me for being so stubborn. Instead, they apologized for leaving me to handle things that weren't really my responsibility.

On January 3, Harry and my brothers saw me off to Hogwarts. Dad had voluntarily checked himself into St. Mungo's for treatment. He said that hitting me was his lowest point, and he swore to me he would get better.

Now, I sit here at the seashore watching my daughter playing in the sand. Her father crouches next to her, trying to make a sandcastle. Their laughter reminds me of a scene from when I was younger, and my father and I used to play like that. As I watch Harmony and Harry, my heart hurts a little. Not from what I've lost, but what I fear for them. I pray that Harmony never has to see her father the way I saw mine. I adored him, placed him on the highest pedestal, only to see him fall and smash his life to bits.

I rarely see my father now. Once, I thought that we could go back to the way we were before. Now, I know that it is impossible. I watched my father become a horrible man, who lived only for the drink and gave no thought to the ones he hurt. I don't think I can ever get past that image now. He's married again, to a woman I hardly now. She is slight and quiet, much the opposite of my mother. She likes to say that it was she who "pulled Arthur from the pit of despair". Jeanne never mentions us in her stories. Dad seems to prefer things this way, though. Perhaps it's his way of getting on with life.

Sometimes, I wish I could forget it all. Every time I try, though, I see that long silver scar on my cheek. It serves as my reminder, my lesson. There will come a time when Harmony asks me about it, I know. Then I will simply tell her the story of how a little girl loved her father so much that she forgot to love herself.

A/N: Oh dear, I feel like I have a load off my chest just for finishing it. When you read this, remember it did come from my own experiences, so most of what you read happened to me. Except the whole magic thing, though. My aunt was my "Harry" though, so there was no big romance…dang! I don't have a child, either, but I know one day I will and I'll have to explain all of this to them. I hope that someone came out of this with a moral, because that is why I wrote it.

A few thanks to give out: To "Mom", thanks for being there and helping me realize I couldn't be SuperGirl no matter how hard I tried. You're my hero and I love ya!! To Scott and Kiki, thanks for being my siblings when I need some. To Chris, for being the best husband a girl could ask for. To Dad, I know this will never meet your eyes, but thanks to you for teaching me the greatest lesson of all…

Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Mitzi! You're so great; thanks for the helpful British grammar tips! Oh and those commas…grrr…!