Title: Losing Faith

Summary: It's the summer after Ginny's sixth year, and Voldemort is dead. But still, things are not how they should be. How will everyone cope now that the worst threat is over? HG RHr

Genre: Romance/Drama

Rating: T

Disclaimer: It's all JK Rowling's. 'Nuff said.

A/N: Ooh, 4 reviews already! Definitely got to be a record for me – I'm a bit of junkie when it comes to reviews. Thank you Cappygal116, Amaherst, richgirlwealthy and Mei fa-chan for making my day – here's some more just for you. grin

V I V I V

TRYING

"It's a good job I made plenty." Molly said cheerfully as Ginny, Fred and George stumbled through the kitchen fireplace just after midday. Ron and Hermione were already sat at the table, serving themselves from the spread that Molly had obviously not made for just three people. The Weasley children exchanged amused glances as the trio sat down at the table, Fred and George lunging for the same dish as Ron – most likely, just to ire their younger brother.

"You knew we'd be coming, face it, Mum." Ginny said with a grin, realising that she was actually hungrier than she had been in a while, and subsequently helping herself to three turkey sandwiches and a handful of crisps.

"You said you didn't know." Molly said pointedly. "But you're working with the twins, so I made a wild guess that you would be." Her eyes twinkled as she looked over at Fred and George, their own eyes wide with delight at the size of the lunch. "How was your first day then, Ginny?" She asked as she started serving herself. "Enjoying it?"

"Of course she is, Mum, she's working with us." Fred piped up, subsiding at the glare that the redheaded woman shot him.

"I was asking Ginny."

"It's really interesting." Ginny said eagerly. "I mean, we've always seen the twins stuff as things they've just thought up to annoy the heck out of Percy." She ignored the horrified gasps that Fred and George had given, and the snigger that had escaped from Ron's mouth. "But you know, it's so easy to see now how they're doing so well."

Molly sniffed, looking slightly sceptical. "Well, they do have a flair for this sort of business…"

"No, I mean – kids love pranks. But it's so easy for the pranks to be discovered before they're pulled off – Gred and Forge have made it so that the most original pranks are put in the most normal objects so no one suspects. And kids love that."

"Why, Gred, I do believe that our sister has just given us a compliment." George said, feigning a swoon and falling off his chair. Fred paused for only a moment before leaping after his brother, letting out a yell.

"Dear Merlin, she must be ill! Come on, Forge – get up so we can get her to a hospital. Quickly!"

"Honestly." Hermione huffed. "The two of you have to take a completely civilised conversation and turn it into a mockery."

"Nice bit of alliteration there, Hermione." Fred said, standing up and dusting himself off as George stared at the brunette, wide-eyed.

"I think she's channelling Mum. Hide me!"

"That's enough, boys." Molly said sternly. "It really is too much to ask you two to be serious for once in a while, despite the fact you're fully grown business men at that. Now, sit down and finish your lunch."

"We're just letting a little laughter into our lives, Mum." Fred commented, stuffing a fistful of crisps into his mouth and chewing on them loudly, not noticing Ginny stiffen next to him. "You know that there's not been much to laugh about lately."

At her brother's words, Ginny felt a guilt nudge bitterly at her. Here she was, enjoying herself, when Harry was goodness knows where wallowing in his own misery and with no one to make him laugh. The realisation hit her hard – leaving him by himself was the worst possible thing that they could have done. Not that they had much of a choice, but if they left it off much longer, he would start deluding himself into thinking that they would be better and happier without him. The turkey felt like paper in her mouth as she set the sandwich down, pushing her chair back.

"I'm – I'm going to go and take that inventory now, okay, guys?" She muttered to the twins, turning on her heel and moving to the fireplace. "Thanks for the lunch, Mum."

"You've not been here more than ten minutes, and eaten hardly anything on your plate!" Molly protested shrilly. "Sit back down, surely you're allowed a longer lunch break than that?"

"Of course – an hour." George said, looking confused.

"No, it's okay, really." Ginny insisted. "I'm not hungry, and I've nothing better to do, so I'll get a head start on it. I'll see you later."

Before her mother could protest more, there was another green flare and she was gone. Furious, Molly rounded on Fred. "How could you say something like that? You know that she's very sensitive at the moment – she was actually going to eat a decent meal for once, and she was smiling!"

"Yes, because of us." Fred retorted heatedly. "I'm not going to watch what I say around her, Mum. She doesn't want us tiptoeing around her, and you know it."

"It's only been two months since the attack." George added. "And the first time back to the Burrow in ages. She's going to act like that, and there's not a thing we can do to stop it. You've just got to let it run its course."

Molly sat back down with a reluctant sigh. "At least think before you speak next time." She said in resigned tones. "I suppose you're right."

The mood was a lot more sombre at the table for the rest of the meal, each well aware of the empty place between Fred and Molly that should have had their hyperactive, giggly Ginny there.

A lot of things had changed during the war, and they would continue changing even after it was all over, no matter how much anyone kidded themselves that it wouldn't.

V I V I V

"Pigwidgeon!" Ginny let out an angry bellow as she tripped over several boxes coming out of the stock room because a small owl dive-bombed her. "What the heck are you doing here?" Her eyes widened as she noticed the letter slipping of the owl's clawed foot. "He didn't bloody send it back." She fumed, kicking several boxes out of the way and hoping that there was nothing breakable in there as she made after Ron's annoying little owl. "If he doesn't watch it he'll be getting a Howler soon." She continued, ranting quietly to herself as she managed to catch the owl between her hands and yank the letter out of its grasp. "Go back to the Burrow, you annoying little animal." She snapped at it, heaving a sigh of relief as for once he obeyed and flew out through the window above the door.

She unravelled the scroll, expecting to see her own handwriting, and her heart gave a jolt as she did indeed recognise it – but it certainly wasn't her own. Sinking down into one of the chairs, her eyes drank in the words over and over, her fingers tracing the letters.

Dear Ginny… I'm sorry if I ever made you believe that I didn't want to speak to you or see you. Believe me, it's killing me being separated from you, but… this is just something that I have to do. You don't need to understand, I just need you to accept it, please. I don't know when I'll be back but I promise, I will be. I wouldn't do that, not after everything that you and your family have done for me. Ginny… I don't expect you to wait for me. I'd understand if you didn't because, well, neither of us knows how long it'll be before I'm home.

Ginny felt her eyes fill with tears at the use of the word 'home'. For the past seven years, Harry's home had been at Hogwarts, and now that he no longer attended there, she had often wondered where his home was. It was quite obvious now, and she couldn't believe that she had missed it; his home was, of course, at the Burrow, with the rest of them.

I'm glad to hear you've got a job at the twins' store. There's nothing worse than a boring summer – it actually makes you want to go back to school! And Gin, please don't think that you can't have fun because I'm not. I want you to have a good summer. Voldemort is gone – you should be celebrating with your friends, not worrying about me. I'll be fine. Really. I'm not in any danger, and even if I was – hey, I took down as Gred and Forge call him, 'Voldy', I don't think a few Death Eaters will be too much to handle! I'm sorry I can't tell you where I am – but we both know exactly what you'll do, and I think that your mother may just throttle me for that. I'm so sorry for doing this to you. Be safe, be happy, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Tell your Mum not to worry, that I'm dealing, and tell Ron that if he hurts Hermione in any way I'll hex him into next millennium (yes, from where I am). I would tell him myself, but I'd rather not have owls from every member of the Weasley family telling me to get my ass back. Just you.


I love you, and I miss you. Harry.

Crumpling the letter in her hand, Ginny threw it at the wall with a yell of outrage. "Bloody stubborn git!" She shouted in frustration. He was right; she didn't understand. Why did he have to be apart from her to deal – surely it would be better if he had someone around to support him? Unless he was lying and actually preferred to be away from her. She dissolved into a fresh set of tears at the thought and slid off the chair to the floor with a thump, burying her head in her hands. Have a happy summer, indeed. Just because he told her that he was safe didn't mean that she could stop worrying, and she didn't doubt that her mother felt the same. They would only stop worrying once he was back with them.

"Need to stop this." Ginny murmured, taking her hands from her face and feeling the wetness of her tears between her fingers. With a final sniffle, she picked up the long list of stock and proceeded to do as the twins had asked her. Though it was a long, tedious job she found that she had to devote her entire concentration to it, which was definitely a good thing. It was a shock when she looked up what felt like ten minutes later to see that two hours had passed. Yawning, she stood up, groaning as her sore muscles screamed in protest, and made her way over to the window. Well past midday, the streets of Hogsmeade were now bustling with life. Children danced along hand in hand with their parents, teenagers strolled past chatting and laughing happily. None of them seemed to have a care in the world, and Ginny felt that familiar pang of jealousy roar up inside her. She berated herself silently; she knew plenty of people that were good at hiding their real feelings and pretending that they didn't, actually, have a care in the world. Including herself and Harry.

She let out a cry of anguish and kicked furiously at the sealed fireplace, shouting his name. Greeted with nothing but silence, she turned on her heel and fled to the front door, realising even as she did so that it was ridiculous. There was no way back to Hogsmeade. She was trapped. Screaming again, this time in anger, she threw herself backwards onto the sofa in the living room and glared furiously at the wall, seething. How dare he? How dare they? Leave her with no idea what was going on, so she could sit and worry for goodness knows how long?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Ginny suddenly had an overwhelming urge to simply bask in the new, cheerful Hogsmeade. Snatching up the set of keys that George had given her, she unlocked the door from the inside and stepped out into the street, pulling down the blinds and locking the shop after her. The summer sun beat down on her robed back as she moved slowly down the street, drinking in the sight of the new town. Three young children skipped around her, each licking an ice cream with the different flavours dripping down their faces, and looked up at her, laughing giddily. Ginny felt a smile crawl over her face.

"Ginny?" Ron was standing in the doorway, face whiter than usual, blood trickling down one cheek and dripping into a pool on the floor. She leapt to her feet, gasping. "What – oh God, Ginny, we looked everywhere for you, and when we couldn't find you – we thought… we thought…" He broke off, looking distraught. "How did you get here?"

"The same way as you." She retorted, her voice laced with concern. "Portkey, right?" At his nod, she moved closed to him, bringing her hand up to the cut on his head. "You're hurt."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Just a small cut – you know head wounds bleed more than any other wound, and make it look worse. I'm fine."

She tugged her wand out of her robes pocket and pointed it at his head, ignoring his flinch as she incanted one of the healing spells she had read up on. He gave her an embarrassed grin as the blood stopped flowing. "Thanks."

There was the familiar fountain still in place. It had barely been touched, only small pieces of brick that had broken off easily repaired. She moved up to it, realising that there was something different about it. A large, brand new plaque lay at the foot and she knelt before it, tracing her hands over the wording.

'In memory of those that died in Hogsmeade, 2nd May, 1998.'

There was a sad, almost fond look in Ginny's dark eyes as she ran her finger down the endless counts of names and dates. She recognised a few, and the tears sprang fresh to her eyes each time. Hannah Abbott. Dennis Creevey. Pauline Clearwater, Penelope's seven-year-old sister. Luna Lovegood. Her family had been extremely lucky that night – despite the fact that each member was out there, fighting for theirs and others lives, they had come away with a barely a scratch. Aside from Harry, of course.

"Did you see Harry?" Ginny asked frantically, pacing the floor. "We were brought back here together, but the great git got out of here using the floo. Then the fireplace sealed over so I couldn't follow." She gestured helplessly at the grate. "Have you seen him?"

Ron swallowed, avoiding looking his sister in the eye. Ginny felt her insides turn to ice.

"Have you seen him?" She repeated in a low, deadly voice.

"I saw him." Ron whispered, looking grieved. "He was – by the fountain." His mouth split into a wry, humourless smile. "Really letting the Death Eaters have it, he was. He was bloody brilliant."

Ginny froze. "What do you mean… was?"

Ron looked horrified. "Oh, bloody hell, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean – well, he took them all down, and last I saw of him, he was… just before I was given the Portkey, he was making for You-Know-Who."

At the fountain, Ginny recalled being told. Lord Voldemort had been brought down mere inches from where she was standing, from where the plaque had been made. Her eyes drifted to the spot and she let out a short bark of laughter as she realised that there was another plaque there, no doubt where You-Know-Who had died.

'Here lay Voldy – good riddance. A gift from Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.'

Ginny remembered the day that the twins had come home, proudly bearing the plaque, and informed everyone that they had paid no small amount of money to get it put by the fountain. They had, apparently, had to take a few more offensive words out as well. Her mother had thrown up a storm, but, as the twins had insisted, she could not do anything about it – they paid good money for it to go there.

"Shows we're not afraid anymore, not of Voldy, not of any Death Eater." Fred had remarked, and Molly had gone very red in the face and stormed out of the room, cursing her two sons under her breath.

Getting to her feet, Ginny brushed the dirt off her robes with a fond ghost of a smile at the memory, remembering how vividly it had been the first time she had laughed since it had happened. It always the twins that made her laugh, and always Harry that made her smile. And without Harry to make her smile… she wasn't sure she could laugh.

A summer breeze swept through the village, catching her flimsy robes and chilling her slightly, so she tugged them tighter around her and headed back towards the shop, satisfied that she could actually manage to walk through the town without drowning in the memories like she'd been afraid she would. Unlocking the door she stepped inside, closing it behind her and leaning against the glass for several moments. The crumpled up letter was near her feet and she bent down to pick it up, smoothing it out and reading through it a second time without that same anger. Her heart lurched painfully at some of the words Harry had written, so carefully worded yet still unable to hide his own pain. 'I'll be fine.' 'It's killing me being separated from you.' 'Tell your Mum I'm dealing.' 'It's something I have to do.' With a sad sigh she folded it up and stuck it into her robes pocket before kneeling down amongst the hoards of boxes to continue her work.

"Ginny!" A few hours later a familiar female voice was heard from the stock room and Hermione appeared in the doorway, her eyes glittering with excitement. The redheaded girl clambered to her feet, spreading her arms wide to display her new working environment.

"What do you think?"

"Wow." Hermione gasped, running her hand across the counter. "It's so weird to think that this is yours."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's not." She reminded her friend. "It's the twins'. I'm just the manageress."

"But you're the one that's going to be running the place." Hermione insisted, strolling across the room and peering at the blank walls as if there were something interesting there. "You heard the twins – they're not going to be around much. You get to give instructions and deal with customers and sort out finances." Her eyes were shining with delight at the mere thought and Ginny had to smother a giggle. The things that so obviously delighted Hermione sounded rather boring to Ginny.

"You can help out, you know." Ginny said nonchalantly, and Hermione tripped over a box as she spun around. Not bothering to hide her giggles that time, Ginny helped the ecstatic brunette to her feet.

"Oh, are you serious? Really, Ginny? Can I?"

"We'll have to speak to the twins, obviously." Ginny replied. "But it is an awful lot of work and I do have heaps of homework as well, so I'd be grateful for all the help. Plus the fact that I can't use magic, so I can always do with a helping hand there. And hey, by the time the shop's up and running you can help with customers." She gave a sly wink. "We know how much you like the thought of that."

Hermione looked on the verge of hyperventilating. "Thank you, thank you!" She squealed, throwing her arms around the younger girl. "Ron's not going to be very happy, though."

"I'll bet." Ginny said dryly. "I don't need to guess what he thought the two of you would be doing all summer."

Hermione looked blank. "Wh – oh, Ginny!" She was turning a rather fetching shade of red, most unlike her.

"The twins will turn up for dinner, of course." Ginny said, ignoring Hermione's splutters of embarrassment. "I'll ask them then, though I don't think they'll have a problem with it. Ron, on the other hand…"

"Ron will throw a fit." Hermione agreed, and looked almost cheerful. "He'll find that he'll want to start Auror training straight away with me and you at the shop all the time."

Ginny frowned, kneeling down to reseal up the last boxes and shove them in the pile in the corner. "I don't think so." She said slowly. "He wants to go into training with Harry. That's the main reason he wants to be an Auror, after all. There's no way he'd go into it without him."

"I suppose you're right." Hermione sighed, perching on the counter and eyeing the pile of precariously stacked boxes carefully. "But…" She trailed off, not wanting to say what was on her mind which would no doubt upset Ginny further. How long would Harry be gone, and could they all wait that long?

"Oh!" Ginny said suddenly, remembering. "I got a letter from Harry today!"

Hermione almost slipped off the counter. "What?" She shrieked, jumping down and staring at her friend in shock. "A proper one? Not just one that says 'Don't worry, I'm fine. Harry.'?"

"A proper one." Ginny confirmed. "He says he doesn't know when he'll be back, but that he's safe." She couldn't help the smirk that slid over her face. "He also said that it didn't matter if he wasn't because he took down Voldy and would be able to handle a couple of Death Eaters."

Hermione looked horrified. "He didn't!" She gasped. "Ginny, if that letter had been intercepted – that's just an invitation for him to get attacked!"

"Well, it wasn't, so it's fine. He didn't say where he was, anyway." Ginny shrugged. "He also said – he's dealing, he's sorry, oh, and that if Ron hurt you then he would hex him from all the way – well, wherever he is."

The dark-haired eighteen-year-old flushed, looking sad. "Oh." She said in a small voice, not sure what else to say. "How – are you okay?"

Ginny lifted her shoulders into another smaller shrug. "I've been better." She admitted. "But he said a lot of other stuff in the letter, and – well, he doesn't want me to be unhappy, so I'm – I'll try. It's not going to be easy, and the best way to do it would be to just put him out of my mind, which I don't particularly want to do, but – if it's what he wants." A flicker of pain showed in her brown eyes. "I'll try." She repeated softly, as Hermione drew her into a warm hug.

V I V I V

Hermione stared after her boyfriend's retreating back with a mouth wide open, unable to believe what had just happened. She and Ginny had returned from the shop just in time for dinner; the rest of the family were already seated and helping themselves to the curry that Molly had cooked. As dessert was being served, Ginny had turned to the twins and asked if they minded if Hermione helped out for the summer. Fred and George had heartily agreed, always thankful for the help, while Ron had stared at Hermione through large, wounded eyes.

"When were you planning on telling me this?" He had demanded, scraping his chair back and standing up with a glare at Hermione and Ginny. The rest of the Weasleys had looked elsewhere uncomfortably, able to predict what was about to happen. Sure enough, before Hermione could defend herself, he had yelled incoherently for several moments before turning on his heel and storming up to his bedroom.

There was an uncomfortable silence for several moments before Hermione quietly excused herself from the table, struggling to hide her fury. Taking the stairs two at a time, she pounded hard on Ron's bedroom door and pushed it open before waiting for an answer. He glared at her from where he stood at the bedroom window, folding his arms across his chest.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione asked in a low, dangerous voice. "Would you care to explain to me why you just acted like a five year old in front of your entire family?"

Ron drew himself up to his full height, eyes flashing. "Am I not good enough for you to spend the summer with, is that it?" He demanded, ignoring her own question. "You'd rather spend it with my sister than me?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Would you listen to yourself? It's not a matter of who I'd rather spend the summer with but who needs me more. And at the moment, I'm sorry, but I'd rather that you were alone than Ginny because, for crying out loud, it's killing her!"

Ron looked faintly sick. "What?"

"Look." Hermione said impatiently. "We've already decided that we're going to get a flat once I've found a job and you've started training. There's plenty of time for us to be together alone then. I'm sorry that your pride is wounded because you have to spend three weeks with no one but your mother, but Ginny needs me." She sank down onto his bed, running a weary hand through her tangled brown locks. "She was the one that asked me if I wanted to help her with the shop. I just couldn't say no. I can't leave her to spend the entire summer working alone. She misses Harry, and without anyone to distract her from her thoughts, she'll just end up…" Hermione paused, looking stricken. "I don't know. But it won't be good. We all need to do our best to take her mind off him. She said it herself; she's going to try and put him out of her mind as best as she can, but she can't do it alone."

Ron sat down next to her, all his anger ebbing out of him, and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Okay." He said softly. "I see – I'm sorry. I understand. I'll – if that's what's best for Ginny then… okay."

She smiled up at him tearfully. "Sorry for yelling." She said in sorrowed tones. "And not telling you before Ginny asked the twins, but there wasn't really time. Believe me, I'd love to spend the summer with just you, but… you know, just because the war's over doesn't mean everything's going to be fine straight away. Everyone needs to adjust."

Ron nodded, looking far older than his eighteen years. "You're right." He said. "We've got plenty of time. Three weeks is nothing. And we have the evenings, and Sundays."

"Exactly." Hermione said with a warm smile, as Ron bent his head to hers and drew her into a soft, apologetic kiss. Pulling away moments later, he rested his forehead against hers, noting her struggle to hold back her tears. He touched her cheek gently.

"What is it?"

"I just – it's frustrating, that's all." Hermione said with a sigh. "I want to throttle Harry for what he's doing to Ginny, but… we don't know how he's reacting to all of this, and it scares me a little."

"Me too." Ron said softly. "There's nothing we can do but wait for him though."

Hermione let out a bitter laugh. "How long?" She asked, almost to herself. "How long will we all have to wait?"

"I don't know." Ron replied honestly. "But I'm willing to wait as long as it takes, and I think Ginny and Mum are as well."

"And me." Hermione echoed, resting her head against his shoulder. "And me."