A/N – Ah! The amount of scary threats is starting to alarm me… Happy ending – I promise! But anyway, main thing: an apology. Sorry about not updating in gazillions of years (Emma, one of my beta's was sending emails saying she was going to call long distance for police because I had disappeared) but I was away on holidays, but and awful thing happened. I went away with my friend and she had an accident when a wave crashed her into some huge sharp rocks and she was hospitalised and seriously hurt; her family drove up as soon as mine contacted them. She's doing better now but she can't go to school yet and is still in hospital. So that's where I've been, staying with her. Forgive me and enjoy!

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Ch 25 – Even Angels Fall

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Last chapter:

The Healer gasped and gripped the doorknob, knees going weak as she stared at the bright and smiling woman in front of her, sitting up on the bed and looking at her expectantly.

It was a miracle.

- - - - - - - -

You will fly and you will fall

God knows

Even angels fall

Even angels fall

Jessica Riddle – Even Angels Fall

- - - - - -

Mr Weasley awoke slowly and sat up. Sunlight peeped through the partly open curtains. Without warning, a tear dropped down his face. His wife was gone; she was dead and he had nothing left. His other half was gone, along with his reason to live.

A general stirring could be heard and before long everyone was awake. No one said anything and the mood was sober. They all knew their mother (and wife) was dead. It was hard to speak.

Footsteps could suddenly be heard clambering down the corridor, someone was yelling or shouting something. Mr Weasley frowned. The footsteps were coming this way. The door burst open and a Healer rushed in, robes caught up in her hand and her hair undone. She was breathing heavily and there was a huge smile on her face.

"It's a miracle!" she exclaimed. "Oh Merlin, it's a miracle!"

Mr Weasley's breath caught in his throat. Had Ginny woken from her coma already? It was too good to be true!

"What?" asked George, looking curious.

"Your mother! She's – she's perfect! She's alive and she's up and she's asking…." The Healer laughed pure joy on her face. "She asking for a 'spot of tea'!"

Arthur Weasley had never gone up a flight of stairs so quickly in his life. Time zoomed by him as he ran down the corridor, his children following close at his heels. But not as fast as him. Never as fast as him.

And he ran in the door and there she was. Sitting up and smiling and reading the Daily Prophet as she sipped her cup of tea – as requested.

"Oh Molly!" exclaimed Arthur as he ran to his wife. She looked up when she heard his voice and smiled bemusedly as he kissed her cheek, almost in tears. There was a reason to live, and it was right there in front of him.

"Oh, goodness, hello Arthur dear." Mrs Weasley put down the paper and looked even more surprised as each one of her children ran in the doorway and stopped in shock, huge grins of relief and joy on their faces.

Many different cries of 'Mum!' were heard. By the time Mrs Weasley had been hugged and kissed over twenty times her smile was beginning to fade.

"What's all this? You act like I've been raised from the dead!" She patted Bill's head. "And could one of you please tell me why I am in St Mungo's?"

They explained everything in fewer than five minutes; how the Gringotts gas had caused this and how she should be dead right now, how she was a miracle, how she had been in a coma for days. Mrs Weasley was shocked, the smile totally wiped away now. She couldn't believe it.

"Where's Ginny then?"

And then the mood became sober again.

It was explained to Mrs Weasley in as little words as possible, as calmly as possible. It had little effect though; she was out of bed as soon as she heard the word 'coma'.

"Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

"Molly, calm down," Arthur soothed his wife, trying to lead her back into the bed.

"My daughter is dying, don't tell me to be calm!" It was amazing how an older woman in a demure, baggy white nightgown could look so dangerous.

"And so were you, until this morning, so you had better stay in bed – just in case," retorted Charlie.

"I'm fine! It's not me you should be worried about, it's your sister!" Mrs Weasley faced her husband. "Your daughter."

"Molly…" Arthur's voice was pained and tired. But he couldn't be upset, his wife was alive and well. It showed; all of them had traces of grins on their lips or brighter eyes.

"Arthur, I want to see my daughter."

And, it seemed, her word was final.

- - - -

Harry peered in the open door and was relieved to see no one in the room. Mrs Weasley must have left a few minutes ago, she had spent the better part of three hours in there by herself. He stepped in and left the door open a crack before making his way over to Ginny's bed. The room was sunny and bright, plain but nice.

Harry sat down on the chair beside the bed, looking at Ginny's pale, lifeless form. Her normally creamy skin was pallid and dry, her breathing laboured and not very often. Her hair was the only thing that remained the same, crowned about her head and fanning out over the pillow. He reached out and took one of her hands in his, it was so cold he almost let go.

No! Harry screamed silently. You can't leave me! I love you. I've saved you twice and I wish to Merlin I could do it this third time.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he whipped his head around to see Jason Banton standing in the doorway, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Hi," said Jason shortly. He stepped further into the room, obviously feeling awkward. Harry coughed, not sure if he should leave or not.

"Is she…?" Jason trailed off and looked pointedly at Ginny.

"She's in a coma," replied Harry. He held Ginny's hand tighter and looked at Jason honestly. "Last night she crawled all the way to her mother's room. It used up all her strength and now…" He waved his free hand at Ginny's still form.

Jason looked poleaxed. "Why?"

"Because her mother was dying."

"Merlin. Is Molly… okay?" Jason looked even more stunned.

"She was dying, supposed to die last night. The Healers suspect that's why Ginny tried to get to her. But this morning…" Harry shrugged, "… she just got better. She's as good as new."

"I don't believe it." Jason looked shocked. Harry nodded, choosing not to answer.

A heavy silence followed and Jason took a seat by the window, choosing to stare determinedly out it. Harry had his back to him, but he was nevertheless acutely aware of the other man's presence. That didn't stop him sitting there, holding Ginny's hand and willing her to wake up.

Jason watched the two of them from the window, wishing he was the one next to Ginny, holding her hand. He still loved her more than anything; he always would. Maybe things would have been different if he had believed Ginny from the beginning about all the articles Bree had written and the business with Tommy Peterson and Enfantes. Would Harry always love her though? The lady's man? Famous Quidditch player?

"Can you love her like I do?" asked Jason, suddenly breaking the silence.

Harry didn't answer straight away but when he did, it came right from the heart. "I'm going to try. Even – even after she's gone." Jason relaxed in his chair. Harry had silently acknowledged he knew he wasn't the only one who loved Ginny.

"How can you love her in Romania?" Jason didn't ask him to be spiteful, just genuinely curious.

"I've been accepted into Auror training," replied Harry, facing him now. "Here in England."

Jason was surprised into momentary silence. He hadn't been expecting that. "Even though she won't be here?"

"I'm doing it for her."

Jason nodded, approving. "You'll be good at it. You always were, I suppose."

The ghost of a smile appeared Harry's face. "I never had a choice, really." He straightened. "I'll leave you with Gin alone, talk to her. I think she hears us, but she just can't answer."

"I will." They shook hands, forming a sort of acknowledgement. And Harry walked out of the room, a weight off his shoulders.

- - - - -

"Good news, Dad?" asked Charlie as Mr Weasley strode into the room, beaming.

"My inquiry has been has been cancelled and deleted off my record. I just spoke with Mundungus, my boy." Mr Weasley looked ecstatic. His glasses were slipping down on his nose and his reddish grey hair was slightly ruffled but he paid no attention.

Mundungus Fletcher had been made Minister for Magic a few years back, while still part of the Order of the Phoenix. He had played a vital part in the final defeat of Voldemort and many people had found out and he became widely respected. That respect had helped Mundungus to turn away from being a crook and work for the Ministry in affairs like smuggling magical goods etc. He still wanted people to think he was crooked and shrewd but even a blind man could see he was a good person. When Mundungus finally ran for Minister the vote was unanimous, even the crooks wanted him despite his new leaf. (Or perhaps they thought he would be slightly easier on them – they were wrong of course). Still today, Mundungus was just as popular. Plus, to top it off, he made a good Minister for Magic. The Wizarding world was thriving, their population growing.

"Always knew ole Dung would help in the end," commented George, grinning.

"George! Don't call the Minister for Magic Dung!" Mrs Weasley said, appalled.

"You didn't complain when we called him Dung back when we were in the Order," George argued back, looking triumphant.

"Yes – well – " Mrs Weasley looked at a loss for words, remembering very well how vocal she was of her disapproval of 'Dung'. "He wasn't the Minister then!"

George opened his mouth to tell her that Mundungus had, in fact, told him to call him Dung to 'remind him of his days as a professional smuggler' but Mr Weasley spoke first.

"Well, Mundungus told me he knew nothing of the inquiry. He thinks they kept it from him because it's a well known fact we're friends."

"Well, I'm glad that's settled then, dear," said Mrs Weasley, kissing her husband on the cheek.

A knock at the door interrupted them and they all turned as Colin walked somewhat timidly into the room. Cath followed at his heels and she smiled nervously at them all as she stepped around him.

"Hello, Colin, good news?" Mr Weasley said, going over to shake his hand enthusiastically. He still hadn't forgotten how Colin had taken the picture that had saved them.

"Um," Colin looked uncomfortable. "Well, in a way. Kind of more… coming clean."

More than a few eyebrows rose at this, the silence became still. "Coming clean of what?" asked Bill, sounding rather daunting.

Colin cast an alarmed look at Bill and then visibly straightened. "Do – do you remember all those pictures of Ginny in the papers?"

"Yeess," said Mr Weasley slowly. Harry stiffened, many of those pictures had included him.

"And – the scoops Bree Warren somehow got hold of? And no one knew how?"

Harry was standing now. "You took those pictures? You were the person spying on Ginny – and me?"

Colin nodded, looking a lot braver than he felt. "Y-yes that was me, and I wanted to come tell you because I'm… really sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Harry was sputtering. Fred looked rather murderous, Colin noticed with a trace of anxiousness.

"Shh. Go on son," Mr Weasley said, silencing his son with a look.

Colin nodded. "I am sorry. I – at the time I was in love with someone-"

"Who?" asked Charlie.

"Sorry – oh… Bree. Bree Warren." Now Colin looked ashamed. He had known this was going to be difficult, but the Weasley's deserved the truth and an apology, too. He owed that much to Ginny, and if he couldn't tell her then he would tell her family. Plus, Cath had hinted at telling them and that sealed it. The admiration in her eyes now would perhaps make this worth it.

"In love? With her?" George looked revolted. "Why?"

"I've had a crush on her since Hogwarts and – when she found out, and realised I was a photographer for the Prophet, she used all her wit and charm to make me fall for her."

"That woman is a viper!" exclaimed Hermione, outraged. "How could you fall for her when you knew that she was just using you?"

Colin shrugged and glanced quickly at Cath. "Love makes you do strange things." There was a short silence. Nobody could deny that statement. They had seen the truth of it before they're own eyes.

"Well, how come you aren't taking photos for Bree anymore?" asked George, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Or are you?"

"I'm not. Haven't for a while now; she's very angry about it."

"So then why aren't you?" asked Harry, curious now.

"Because someone else came into my life," answered Colin. Nobody asked who; there was proof enough who it was.

Mr Weasley was smiling. "Thanks for telling us, Colin. But you don't need to worry, we've already forgiven you."

"What? We have?" Fred looked indignant.

"Of course. Because of the photo of the Petersons he took that let us keep the Burrow."

"That's right," said Mrs Weasley, speaking for the first time. "We owe Colin a lot." She looked at Colin directly. "Thank you, dear, and thank you for telling us."

Colin nodded and then hesitated for a second. "There's something else I want to tell you. I've been offered a job as a reporter at the Daily Prophet and – and I'm going to try and redo all that damage I did. You won't read anything but the truth from now on. My first article, actually, is going to be on Ginny."

"Are you serious?" Percy looked shocked.

"But you like photographing, not writing," said Ron, flabbergasted.

"I'm going to do both." There was a hint of pride in Colin's voice. "The only reporter who takes his own photos for his articles."

A Healer appeared in the doorway. "Mr Weasley? Your daughter hasn't woken, but you're allowed to visit her now, they've finished checking up on her for any changes."

"Thankyou," said Mr Weasley, smiling weakly. "Molly?" He held out his arm to his wife and she took it gladly, wanting to see her daughter.

"We'll be back soon," he said to the room. "Oh, and Colin?"

"Thankyou."

Colin nodded, a faint tinge appearing on his face. "It's OK."

Mr and Mrs Weasley left the room and Colin felt a bit nervous again; he had never trusted the twins since Hogwarts.

"Hey, no hard feelings, mate," Fred said, however, coming over to clap him on the back. George walked over and patted Colin's other shoulder.

"Yeah, we owe you one, buddy. There's only the tiny problem that we have sworn to uphold our sister, which means we'll have to..." George looked at his twin quizzically, stroking his chin. "We still believe in corporeal torture, don't we Fred?"

Colin gulped and paled visibly.

"I'm positive we do, old chum," answered Fred.

"Fred, George," snapped Angelina from the couch. "You'll do no such thing." Still a bit pale from her ordeal, Angelina was nevertheless a commanding figure.

"Aw, we were just kidding Angie," said Fred, chuckling as he patted Colin's back.

"Yeah," agreed George. "We're only going to… torment and persecute you."

"That's the same thing!"

Harry laughed along with everyone else; glad the twins were recovering their humour again. People needed Fred and George to make them laugh, to lighten the mood. It had been too long since Fred had told a joke that brought the house down, too long since George had made them laugh with his ridiculous grin and teasing.

Cath, laughing too, tugged on Colin's elbow and he turned to look at her. "Let's go for a walk," she said.

They waved goodbye and left the waiting room, choosing to walk down the halls and into the gallery of famous Healers. It was a huge room, circular in shape and the ceiling looked oddly endless. The walls were lined with pictures of Healers from all different times. There was one dressed in Greek clothing, one in a medieval cloak and even one who had a slightly mad scientist look about him. They were all speaking, to each other and nobody in particular, occasionally yelling out remedies for various maladies.

Colin received a shock when one very scary looking Healer witch yelled out that eating a sheep's eye covered in dragon's blood after standing in a gold cauldron would cure his eyesight.

"I prefer glasses," Colin replied to the indignant witch. "And besides, I can't afford a gold cauldron." Cath laughed as the witch muttered darkly under her breath.

They observed the paintings in silence for a while, both silently thinking. Occasionally their eyes would meet and one or both of them would blush and look away quickly. Colin's heart was beating rapidly, here was his chance to tell Cath that he loved her and he was too nervous to utter anything but a squeak. Besides, what was she going to do after he told her? Leap into his arms and declare she felt the same way? Colin didn't think so; Cath hadn't shown any signs of wanting to be more than friends – apart from that kiss when he showed her the photo. But that had only been because she was so happy, and it had only lasted two seconds anyway.

Stop being so bloody nervous, just say you love her! Colin looked around desperately, as if the paintings would tell him what to say. Of course, they didn't. He opened his mouth when Cath began speaking before him.

"I think it was really brave what you did in there."

Colin blinked and stopped walking. "You did? Wait, what was brave?"

Cath smiled and stopped walking too. "The way you went in there and told all of the Weasley's what you had done."

Colin felt himself swell with pride. "You thought that was brave?"

"Yes."

Colin felt a grin spread across his face, he wanted to do a lap around the room – or rather the hall – and whoop for joy. Cath thought he was brave. "Well, they deserved to know," he said.

"Yes, but you didn't have to," insisted Cath. "They would have been none the wiser if you hadn't told them. I don't know if I could have done it, just stand there and confess something like that to the entire family. Their family is huge, and kind of intimidating, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I have," said Colin, thinking of Fred and George.

"Well, there you go. And that article you're writing about Ginny is going to be beautiful, I know it."

"It sucks that she will never be able to read it, to see her name cleared and everything," said Colin sadly.

"Yeah," Cath agreed, face growing sober. "I wish she didn't have to die, I've only known her a while and she's not even getting married to Jason anymore but I still feel like we are kinda – kind of like sisters."

"I'm sure she would have felt the same – I'm sure she does." Colin patted her shoulder awkwardly, wishing he could work up the courage to hug her. Then he hit himself mentally, here he wanted to hug a girl when someone he cared about was dying. How selfish was he?

"You know that girl – woman – Bree?" Cath asked suddenly.

Colin furrowed his brow, wondering where that had come from. "Yeah…" he replied uncertainly.

"Is she – is she loaded?"

"What do you mean loaded?" Colin was staring at her curiously now, forgetting all about wanting to hug her.

Cath looked hesitant. "Like – rich? Really wealthy and stuff."

"Noo." Colin was shaking his head. "For all her airs she's still only a gossip columnist. She doesn't make that much money."

"Hmmm," was all Cath said.

"Why do you ask?" prodded Colin.

"Just something I saw the other day made me wonder…" Cath said vaguely, her face confused.

"What did you see then?" Colin asked, still as curious as ever.

"Well, I was in a fancy dress shop in Diagon Alley a couple of days ago, getting a new set of dress robes when I saw Bree walk in. I tell you, I know my materials and she ordered the most expensive types there are and then the most intricate designs. It went well over a thousand Galleons. And I thought, Merlin, where did she get all of that money?"

"Maybe a relative died and left her some," suggested Colin.

"I don't think so. When people inherit money they don't just go spend it on expensive things straight away. Besides, by then I was curious so I discreetly followed her out of the shop and then she walked into a jewellery store." Cath paused, looking very excited at this idea of a scandal or a secret. "And then, guess what she did?"

"What?" asked Colin, ever the avid listener.

"She went and bought possibly the most expensive jewellery I had ever seen. Lot's of it. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, brooches; you name it she bought it. By now I was puzzled, not just amused or curious, because, like you, I assumed she didn't exactly get a huge pay from her job. And all that jewellery cost more than double the robes she had just bought, maybe even triple. So where in Merlin's name did she get it all?"

Colin released a huge, gush of air from his mouth. He had no idea where Bree had gotten all that money from. He knew, from knowing her so well, that there was no way she could afford all of that. She simply didn't make enough.

"I don't know," he said slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he racked his brain.

"I thought I would tell you because well – you… you would know."

"Why would I know so well?" asked Colin, offended.

"Well because you two… were… I don't know – more than friends!" answered Cath. She felt strange when she said this, an odd feeling rose up in her stomach and made her distressed. It was like she was… no. No, not of… not of – not because of that!

"Not anymore, I hope I never see her again," Colin paused. "Well, maybe only to figure out how she got money for all of that."

Relief fell back down into Cath's stomach and she sighed comfortably. Phew, if Colin still liked Bree she would…

And then it hit her. She had fallen in love with Colin.

He saw her expression change. "What's wrong?" he asked, worried.

"Nothing, nothing," she waved her hand dismissively. He didn't catch the slight catch in her voice, or the increasing of her breathing. Now she didn't know how to act around him, what to say. She had no way of knowing if he felt the same way. He probably didn't.

"So are you going to – go home soon? You know, since Gin and your brother aren't getting married."

"Yes." Disappointment spread across Colin's face and Cath grew warm at the slight chance it was because of her answer.

"But I might decide to stay longer," she added hurriedly, smiling nervously. He grinned back.

"Good, I'll want you around while I check out this thing with Bree."

Cath's face lit up. "You mean, kind of like our own private investigation?"

Colin thought for a minute. "Yeah," he replied grinning. "Kind of like that." Why not? I'm a reporter now, that's my job. Who says you can't have a bit of help from the sidelines, too?

"Let's get to it."

- - - - - -

Mrs Weasley stared at her daughter's pale form, her breathing so shallow it was like she wasn't breathing at all.

"It's hard to believe I was exactly like this last night," she whispered to her husband, who was sitting next to her. Even thought she spoke quietly to Mr Weasley, everyone in the room heard and nodded. The whole clan was in Ginny's room, saying their last goodbyes. The Healers predicted she would pass away sometime during the night.

"Yes, you were exactly like that, dear," answered Mr Weasley as he patted her plump hand. He thanked whoever it was out there who had saved his wife, it was a blessing he didn't deserve. He had no idea it was the young woman lying on the bed unconscious in front of him – and an angel feather.

Then Mr Weasley paused, his heart began beating so fast he felt the whole room could hear it. Exactly like that. Exactly. Like. That.

"Molly!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Mrs Weasley started nervously at his unexpected movement.

"Shh, Arthur," she shushed, pointing to their daughter.

"She was exactly like you, Molly! Exactly the same disease and same conditions!"

"Calm down Arthur, I know."

"What's your point Dad," asked Bill, but at his thoughtful expression it seemed like he already knew Mr Weasley's point.

"And the Healers even predicted you'd die during the night! It's exactly the same!"

"But I didn't die during the night," said Mrs Weasley, brows raised.

"Exactly."

It took a few seconds for this to penetrate Mrs Weasley's mind, but once it did, her whole face lit up. "Oh Arthur, do you really think so?"

"What, Mother?" asked Percy. "Think what?"

Bill spoke first. "Both Mum and Gin got sick because of the same disease. They both developed the same conditions and went – and in Ginny's case, is in – the same coma. For both the Healers said they would die during the night and-"

"Mum didn't…" interjected Ron, looking ridiculously happy.

"Which means Ginny won't!" exclaimed Charlie.

Harry stiffened; something wasn't right about that theory. Just how something wasn't right about how Ginny had dragged herself to her mother's room and had gone into a coma, while Mrs Weasley woke up perfectly fine. "Just because that happened to Mrs Weasley, doesn't necessarily mean it will happen to Ginny."

"Sure it does," objected Fred.

Harry shook his head. "Doesn't it seem strange to you all that Ginny dragged herself to her mother's room and then she got better while Ginny just got worse?"

"Yes," said Hermione suddenly. She met Harry's eye and they both nodded in unison.

"Don't be silly, Hermione, a disease doesn't have two different endings," said Ron.

A Healer came to the door, beckoning them all out for night-time.

Hermione turned to the bed slowly. "We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

- - - - - - -

Darkness.

Cold, empty, endless blackness.

She was dreaming, Ginny knew that much. There was no way she was awake. But people didn't have dreams that were so… real? No, not real, but… different. Different from a normal dream. It seemed like she was floating, floating on a bed of invisible blackness.

Try as she might to wake up, to leave the blackness, she couldn't. She couldn't move her body. Hold on, where was her body? It was there but… somehow not there. She could sense it but couldn't move or feel it.

She started to drift away again, sailing away from feeling, from awareness. Sailing towards the even darker, the end. Her end.

But wait, someone was calling her name. She strained to hear it but it stopped, Ginny had only been imagining it. But no, there it was again, calling her name. It got louder and louder until the voice seemed to come from right next to her. And now there was a light, a golden unearthly light. A light where there had been no light before. Ginny clung to it, basking in its warmth.

Ginny…

Ginny strained her eyes but all she could see was the golden light getting bigger and larger, the blackness was being swallowed up by it. There was no one.

Ginny…

The voice was calling. It was a beautiful sound, airy and musical and bright. And it was so close.

Ginny blinked. Was it…? Louise… her mind called out.

And then, there she was, as clear as day. She seemed more than eighty feet tall in this world of dark turned light, yet she stood in front of Ginny like any other person.

Hello Ginny.

How are you here? Where am I?

Louise smiled to herself. You always were curious.

Ginny looked at her, trying to take in every detail but couldn't. It was like if she looked out of the corner of her eye she could see all of Louise but if she looked straight at her she was blurry. She looked more like a human shaped ray of light, with wings.

Where am I?

You're floating between the land of the living and the land of the dead.

Wha-how? Am I still alive?

Barely.

What's going to happen to me?

This. Louise seemed to glide closer to her, wings gracefully flapping as she descended.

Dear child, your choice was perhaps not the best, but it was, however, selfless. A guardian angel whose protected one is selfless must be selfless herself.

What do you mean?

I mean for every sacrifice you make, I must make one, too. I am connected to you.

When did I sacrifice?

Yourself. So you see, you were selfless and you sacrificed. Now, I must do the same.

But how do you… No! You can't do that! Who will save you?

You have already saved me, my child. You must remember that even angels fall.

And she felt a feather light touch on her forehead and Ginny felt the light plunge into her soul.

Then she felt no more.

You'll have to forgive me (again, sorry!) because for the first time – I think – in this whole fic I'm not doing review replies. I'm so so so sorry but I just got back from the hospital then (see A/N) and I'm completely exhausted from that and first day back and copious amounts of homework yet to be started. Please still review and I'm so sorry! Love Sede