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: Apologies for the delay – I do hope to update this frequently, this was a one off, I hope. My internet connection was cut off for a while which was very frustrating but at least Word was still working so I could carry on with the fan fiction, even if I couldn't post it! Thank you all for the reviews – and Jubexchix, I've planned this to be about thirteen chapters long give or take a few, and I'm also hoping to do a prologue/sequel/epilogue or something to that effect. grin This is definitely the longest chapter yet – and they'll probably get longer!

V I V I V

ADJUSTING

Ginny was awoken rather rudely early the next morning by a weight pressing down on her legs, disappearing for several seconds and then appearing again, as if someone were bouncing on her. Peering through half-closed lids, she only briefly caught a glimpse of Hermione looking both excited and frustrated at Ginny's lack of movement before pulling her covers over her face in desperation.

"Come on, up, up you get!" Hermione trilled cheerfully, yanking the duvet back down and beaming. Groaning, Ginny tried to reach once again for her blanket, but Hermione was not to back down, and had leapt off the bed, taking the bedcovers with her. "Nope – it's time for us to get to work, Ginny, you have to get up or you'll be late!"

"You are entirely too happy for so early." Ginny grumbled in response, flopping over onto her stomach and burying her head under her pillow in a vain attempt to get her temporary roommate to leave her alone. Peace was not to be had, however, for the pillow was the next thing to be taken from Ginny's haven. Suspecting that if she didn't move, Hermione would grab her by the ankles and drag her out kicking and screaming, Ginny sat up, sending her most vicious glare at the excited eighteen-year-old. "All right, I'm up." She mumbled, sliding off the bed reluctantly. "I'll get you back for this, Hermione Granger, I swear."

"You don't want to be late for your first day." Hermione replied, either not noticing or ignoring the strange look she was receiving from the younger girl.

"Actually, it's not my first day. It's your first day."

"Tuh. Well, you shouldn't be late, full stop. It's not professional." Hermione amended, smoothing the duvet back over Ginny's bed as the latter headed for the bathroom with slow, dragging steps. She had made her friend's bed and managed to tidy up the bedroom, which had clothes and all sorts of odds and ends strewn across it even after only two days of having returned home, before Ginny emerged, clad in the hated robes and struggling to plait her long hair neatly.

"Good, you're ready." Hermione knelt down next to her trunk, throwing the lid open and rifling through piles of parchment for a few moments. "We can go over my schedule during breakfast – I'd rather not waste any time, we want to get the shop open as soon as possible to gain maximum profit. It's unfortunate that the twins decided to start the shop now, right in the middle of peak season – if they had decided on a month earlier, that would have been timed just perfectly."

The pair descended the winding, rickety staircase, Ginny staring at Hermione's back blankly. "What did you just say?" She asked in confusion. "I only heard breakfast."

"Honestly!" Hermione sniffed. "You're as bad as your brother. I said that, while we're having breakfast, I'd like us to go over my schedule."

"Nope." Ginny refused steadfastly, shaking her head. "Breakfast is for eating, relaxing, me time. Not work, or schedule-type things. Sorry, but we leave the work at the store. Feel free to go over your schedule by yourself, though." She added in a hopeful attempt to get Hermione to let her to eat her breakfast in peace. Her mother, who was already setting plates of toast and scrambled eggs on the table, struggled to hide her amusement at the two girls. They were so utterly different, yet always managed to get on so well.

"Well, I know the schedule off by heart, so there's very little point in me going over it again." Hermione insisted, thanking Molly as she sat herself down in front of a generous helping of toast and egg. "I'd really rather get started straight away…"

"Work is meant for the office, not the home." Ginny intoned seriously. "Later, Hermione." Noticing that her friend was not about to give up quite so easily, she reached across the table, snatched up a piece of toast and stuffed it into Hermione's mouth, just opened to give a retort.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Molly scolded, brandishing her wand threateningly. "That is not a fine way to treat our guests!"

"Oh, Mum." Ginny looked as if she were on the verge of pouting. "Hermione's not a guest. We're supposed to be nice to guests, and offer them towels and tea. Oh, and show baby photographs. None of that has happened yet – although showing Hermione baby photos of Ron is not a bad idea." Her eyes twinkled wickedly.

"That's enough." Molly continued sternly as she poured out mugs of coffee for the three of them. "Hermione is a guest and you will treat her as such – and do we shove food into our guests mouths when they are about to speak?"

"No, Mum." Ginny replied obediently, lowering her head and smirking into her breakfast. "My sincerest apologies are given to you, Miss Granger, for any misconduct that I might have shown. I do hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me and will wish to return to the Burrow at some point despite my rudeness."

There was a long silence as her words sank in; Molly looked thunderstruck, Hermione torn between being gob smacked and highly amused. "Um – oh, that's all right, Ginevra." She said after a pause, returning the smirk at the dull flush that spread across Ginny's face.

"Ginny…" Molly started warningly, and hastily, the redhead leapt to her feet, almost toppling her chair.

"Would you look at that – I'm not hungry anymore. Come on, Hermione, time for work – no need to dawdle, hurry now!" Before Molly could scold any further, the floo powder had hurriedly been thrown into the fireplace and Ginny was gone from sight, her voice having only just faded away.

"I am sorry, dear." Molly said apologetically, as Hermione clambered up, holding her precious schedule to her chest. "There's no telling what she's going to up and say recently."

"It's fine; I know she was only teasing." Hermione replied, stepping towards the fireplace. "Thank you for the breakfast, Mrs Weasley."

"About that…" Molly said quickly before Hermione could throw the pinch of powder into the grate. "Dear, you and Harry are adults now and you've both known our family for years – isn't it about time that you started calling Arthur and I by our actual names?"

It was Hermione's turn to flush, and she looked unsure for several moments before a grateful smile spread over her face. "I'd like that – thank you, Mrs – I mean, Molly." The name twisted strangely on her lips and she gave a rather un-Hermione-like giggle. "I think it may take a little getting used to though."

"Fair enough." Molly beamed, delighted at how her son's girlfriend took her suggestion. "Now go, and have a good day."

Hermione arrived at the Hogsmeade store to see, with horror, that boxes were strewn in every available piece of floor space, many torn open with their contents spilling out. "What happened?" She gasped, appearing in the doorway to the main shop to see Ginny perched on the counter, swinging her legs as she waited impatiently for Hermione. Her face creased into a frown at the older girl's question.

"What happened with what?"

"This!" Hermione waved an arm around her frantically. Ginny continued to look bemused. "Oh, for heaven's sakes – there's no orderly system to it all – everything's everywhere. What have you been doing?"

"We were testing products." Ginny replied with a shrug. "And then I took inventory. I had to open the boxes."

"And just put them back in any old order, so there's no way of knowing if you've done that box or not?" Hermione demanded, looking on the verge of hyperventilating. "This is not in my schedule, Ginny – we're going to get so far behind!"

"Would you stop with the bloody schedule?" Ginny demanded, sounding uncannily like Ron. "We don't need a schedule."

"It's a good thing to be well organised, you know." Hermione retorted with a sniff, placing the large piece of parchment down on the counter and, tugging a quill out from her bag, making hasty alterations to it. "There; we'll only be behind by about a day, maybe even less if we stay late and…"

"No, no." Ginny interrupted, shaking her head fervently. "Look, Hermione, I know that you're looking forward to working here, and I know that you're taking it seriously – and that I should too – well, I am, but I'm not going to become a workaholic like Percy. I'm finishing at five o'clock every afternoon and that's final. This is my summer holidays, whether I've agreed to work through it or not."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, I suppose you're right – but please, can we get started now?"

"Sure." Ginny replied, cheerful again as she hopped down from the counter and peered over her friend's shoulder at the schedule. "What are we doing today, then?"

"Well, I've taken into consideration our weaknesses and our qualities." Hermione said, pointing to the multicoloured blocks scattered across the page that, to Ginny, simply seemed like a nice pattern. "You, obviously, cannot use magic for another fortnight, so I've tried to assign you all the more practical jobs that don't need magic to be done."

"Like what?" Ginny asked curiously, backing away as Hermione waved an impatient hand in the vague direction of her.

"Not now. I know that you're not too keen on math, and I know a few handy spells to help me with the finance, so that is what I'll be doing. Now, I got this off the twins." She held up a strange contraption. "It's a Muggle pricing machine – they use it for all their products, simply because it's easier."

"What does it do?" Ginny asked in fascination, taking the machine out of Hermione's grasp and rolling it over her hands.

"Basically, it spits out a special marker type thing for each individual product – they're stuck onto the product and when you wave your wand over it, the price and product will appear on the till. It's been a bit modified by wizards to suit us better, but for once they actually thought that a Muggle contraption was a good idea, so they advanced it."

To demonstrate, Hermione picked up a box of modified Chocolate Frogs – ones that didn't stop jumping until they got all the way down to the stomach – tapped the product number into the keypad on the machine and watched with satisfaction as a bar code was spat out onto the box.

"Cool." Ginny stated, snatching it away again. "Let me try."

"It's not a toy." Hermione said, to no effect; Ginny had a range of products in her arms and was happily tapping in the numbers as fast as she could. "Okay. Well, I put you down for that job anyway, so that's all right. But – Ginny, listen – don't just go doing any random item and then shove it back, because you'll forget which ones you've priced. Do one type of product at a time, and when you've done it, put them all in empty boxes and label them."

"Fine, fine." Ginny said, setting the machine down on the counter reluctantly and tipping the products back into the box. "What else needs to be done?"

"I thought that you would like to be doing the presentational side of things." Hermione replied. "Once the shelves are set up, you can arrange them how you see fit, and put the newest range of products on a stand in the window. Obviously that won't be done until we've priced everything up and so forth."

"What are you going to be doing?" Ginny queried suddenly, walking back to take another look at the beloved schedule. "Finances, what else?"

"I'll be sorting out the stock room." Hermione said. "Keeping back a certain amount of products and putting them on the shelves in there – and keeping count of what have been taken out and what is left – it's all organisation."

"Yes, I gathered that." Ginny retorted dryly. "Can we start now?"

Hermione sighed. "So impatient." She murmured, though her face held a soft smile. "All right – yes, I think that's all for now."

Ginny let out a low whoop and made towards the boxes before stopping and staring in dismay. "But – look at it all. How am I supposed to know what's in which box? Everything's everywhere!"

Hermione resisted the urge to say 'I told you so', though she couldn't help the amused snigger that escaped her mouth at how much Ginny sounded as she had done when she had first arrived. "You'll find a way." She said finally, ignoring the horrified look the redhead was giving her, and turned to look at the pile of papers that Fred and George had left behind the day before.

V I V I V

"Will you stand still? You're making me dizzy." Ron complained as Ginny paced up and down the hall, struggling to hold back the tears. "Ginny, there's nothing we can do but wait – you need to calm down."

"I'm calm." Ginny replied in a strangled voice that sounded most unlike her own. "I just – wanted some exercise. So I'm pacing. It's a good stress reliever too; you should try it some time." She realised vaguely that she was babbling and probably making no sense, but couldn't bring herself to care.

"I get it." Ron said lowly. "I know you're worried. I am too. But – this isn't helping. You're just going to get yourself even more worked up." He paused. "We can help. We can get first aid stuff for any of the Order members that are injured and brought back here, and make tea. Or something. Just – anything."

"Okay. Right. Yes, I can do that." Ginny murmured, following her brother into the kitchen and standing helplessly as he motioned his wand towards the kettle, filling it with water and hovering it above the fire. "I just – I want it to be over, Ron."

He paused, turning to glance at her. "We all do." He said finally, softly.

"No, but – it's just not fair. How many more times can he face You-Know-Who, before… before something really awful happens? He's been really lucky so far, Ron."

"Lucky?" Ron repeated incredulously. "Lucky in that his parents were murdered and he was sent to the most unloving bloody Muggles ever? Or that his godfather was killed because of a trap that Harry fell into? Or what about Cedric Diggory – do you not remember how torn up Harry was over Cedric's death? And the prophecy, and…"

"I get that." Ginny returned furiously, interrupting before Ron could really go off on a rampage. "I meant that he's lucky because he's alive. I know how awful it is that all these things have happened to him, but – he's survived it. He can survive that. But eventually, You-Know-Who is going to get sick and tired of always chasing after him and he's going to manage to finish it for good." She paused, swallowing thickly. "What if that's today?"

"And it could be." Ron said slowly, ignoring the strangled cry from his sister. "But you know as well as I that Harry is equally sick and tired of being chased, and he's going to want to finish it as well." He paused meaningfully. "And that could be today."

Ginny pressed a hand to her mouth, her heart thumping hard, feeling as if she were going to be sick. Before she could say another word, there was the sound of the fireplace unsealing itself and the 'whooshing' sound of someone stumbling through the fireplace. Then there was a grunt as the person hit the floor, and several curse words in a voice that could only have belonged to one person.

"Ginny!"

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Ginny looked up from where she was sat, cross-legged, in front of her third box, machine in hand, and saw Hermione bent over her, a concerned look on her face.

"Sorry, Hermione – daydreaming, I think." Ginny flushed, waiting for the berating that never came. To her surprise, Hermione was shaking her head, her brow creased into a frown. "What?"

"You weren't daydreaming." Hermione said slowly, sitting down opposite and resting her back against the wall. "I mean, I thought you were at first – you were just staring into space and not doing anything – but then – I tried to get your attention for ages, Ginny, you just didn't hear me. It must have been about five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Ginny repeated incredulously. "No – really?"

Hermione nodded anxiously, looking as if she wanted to say more; Ginny returned the frown, recognising the look.

"What aren't you saying?"

"Well – you – you were sort of – muttering stuff." Hermione said slowly. "I couldn't make some of it out. But I think you said something like 'I'm calm' and then you were talking about things not being fair, and you wanting it to be over…" She hesitated at the shocked look she was receiving. "What – what happened?"

For a moment, Ginny seriously contemplated telling Hermione the truth, then realised that all she would receive was a look of pity and concern and probably a long, tiring discussion about the events that she really did not want to have. So she lifted her shoulders into a slight shrug, doing her best to look confused.

"I don't remember."

Hermione didn't look convinced. "Ginny – this isn't normal."

"Why, thank you." Ginny retorted sarcastically, her bad temper from waking up at that ungodly hour returning in full swing.

"No, I mean – you completely blanked, and for that long – and were saying that stuff – maybe you should see a Healer."

"I am fine." Ginny said heatedly, folding her arms and avoiding Hermione's piercing gaze. "Probably not enough sleep or something. Nothing to worry about."

"But it is – you really scared me." Hermione insisted. "I didn't know what to do."

"Well, that has to be a first." Ginny returned bitingly before she could stop herself. Hermione drew back, letting out a hiss of breath between her teeth, looking hurt. Sighing, Ginny forced herself to meet brown eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, but please stop pestering."

"I'm just concerned, that's all."

"Well, you have no need to be. I'm fine. See." She spread her arms wide. "All here, sane and completely healthy. So can we get back to work, please?"

Once again Hermione looked as if she didn't want to give up the discussion; the glare Ginny was giving her made her falter and, with a roll of her eyes, she clambered to her feet. "Fine." She returned hotly. "Excuse me for being concerned about a friend."

Ginny rolled her own eyes in response and turned back to the machine, tracing a finger over the product number on the box and tapping it carefully into the keypad. A less comfortable silence descended, Hermione still smarting from Ginny's snide comment and Ginny irritated by Hermione's interference, fleetingly wondering why exactly she had asked the brunette to help out with the store.

The conscience inside her head told her that Hermione was simply concerned and wanting to help, but Ginny had just about had enough of people tiptoeing around her and jumping to her rescue if she so much as tripped, as if she were going to break if a feather fell on her. Suddenly cross all over again, Ginny jumped to her feet, the thick air stifling her. "I'm going for a walk." She said abruptly. "Do you want anything from anywhere?"

"I'll have a butterbeer, if that's all right." Hermione returned distractedly, fishing in her robes pocket for some money and handing it over. "Thanks. Don't be too long, we still have to stick to the schedule."

Ginny only just managed to bite back another retort as she left the shop, closing the door firmly behind her and struggling to control herself. What was the matter with her? She thought back at the morning; Hermione's waking her up had annoyed her, but it was a tired grumpiness, which soon passed once she had a mug of coffee in front of her. She decided, smirking, that it had probably been the coffee that had suddenly sent her bouncing off the ceiling and baiting her mother to no end. And now here she was, snapping Hermione's head off and feeling as if she wanted to hit someone very hard. Taking in a deep breath, she shoved her hands into her robes pockets and striding, head down, along the main street.

"Ginny?"

Startled, Ginny turned to see herself looking straight into the face of her old friend and her brother's ex-dorm mate Neville Longbottom, grinning widely.

"Neville!" She let out a girlish squeal and hugged him around the neck, ignoring the embarrassed flush that had immediately spread across his face. "How are you? What have you been up to? Having a good summer?"

They both laughed at her stream of questions, Ginny realising idly that she no longer felt like hitting her head – or someone else's – against a hard brick wall. "In answer to those, good, not much and yes." Neville returned, falling into step beside her. "What about you?"

"The twins have bought a place in Hogsmeade for a second Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes; Hermione and I have been appointed to prepare it for opening, so we're working there this summer." Ginny plucked at her magenta robes, pulling a face. "Which explains these – I don't wear them for fun, you know!" She motioned to the Three Broomsticks. "Hermione wanted a butterbeer – have you somewhere to go or can you stay for a drink?"

"I can stay – I was just – well." Neville stammered as they stepped into the dimly lit pub. "I mean, I'm not here for any particular reason – just… taking a look around."

"Is it the first time you've been back since it happened?" Ginny asked carefully, not needing to explain what it was. Neville nodded, slipping onto a stool at the bar counter and ordering three butterbeers, twisting his hands together nervously as he tried to think of something to say.

"I didn't particularly want to come back and find that it was all still in ruins, you know? That – I don't think I could have handled that."

"I know. I only saw it for the first time since it happened yesterday – it was sort of a relief to see everything all restored, but I don't like how unfamiliar it looks. All the new buildings."

She took a swig of her butterbeer and stared over Neville's shoulder out the window at the bustling street. "It will take some getting used to." She said finally, not liking the silence. Neville nodded again in agreement, turning his bottle around distractedly.

"How is everyone?"

"Everyone? Well, I can't speak for the entire wizarding world," Ginny joked, patting his arm to let him know she was kidding. "But my family are all good, as is Hermione. They're all I've seen so far this holiday. Have you seen anyone?"

"No." Neville shrugged. "I've had some letters from Dean and Seamus – they're both fine – I think they're getting a flat together." Ginny felt a pang of sorrow as she recognised the loneliness in her friend's eyes. He, like her, had always been one of the few in Hogwarts that had not had any close friends, simply mingled with whomever, and then she had found Harry and he had found Luna.

The only difference was that though Harry was gone, it was not for good, but Luna would never be coming back to quench Neville's loneliness. Swallowing the last of her butterbeer and snatching up Hermione's, Ginny grabbed Neville's hand.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

Since it was his first time in Hogsmeade since the attack, she didn't think that he would have seen the memorial before; sure enough, as they stepped up to the fountain, his face registered confusion.

"What are we doing here, Ginny?"

"Look." Ginny said simply, pointing at the massive silver-plated plaque at their feet. There were so many names, but Luna's sprung out instantly to both of them.

Kneeling down, Neville drank in the words, trembling. "Oh." He said finally, softly, and looked up at her, a genuine smile on his face. "I think that she would have liked that."

Ginny nodded, resting her hand on his shoulder as they stared down at the names for a few more moments. "She won't be forgotten." She said finally, sadly, as she remembered the day they had been told of Luna's death. They had returned to Hogwarts the morning after the attack, where the mood was dark and sombre and filled with sorrow. She, Ron and Hermione had huddled in the Gryffindor common room, consciously aware of the many absences when Professor McGonagall had; her face grim and eyes filled with sadness.

"Miss Weasley, Mr Weasley… Miss Granger." Their Head of House looked around the common room, practically empty save for two third years sat at one of the study tables, deep in their own depressing thoughts. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Ginny's first thoughts were that Harry hadn't survived, despite the fact that she had just seen him the day before, and she pressed her hands to her mouth, the tears already forming behind her lids. Her brother and his girlfriend said nothing, simply waited with their breath held.

Professor McGonagall seemed lost for words as she pressed the tips of her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Miss Lovegood…" She said finally, her grey eyes flickering from one face to another. "I'm sorry to say that she was killed in the attack last night."

And there was that numbness that Ginny was just trying to get used to. Luna. After the adventures in Ginny's fourth year, Luna had undoubtedly become one of them, as had Neville. Everything seemed so much lonely with only three there instead of the six that should have been.

The six that would never be again.

Feeling the tears springing to her eyes, Ginny swiped them away hastily before Neville could notice them, and squeezed his shoulder gently. He got to his feet carefully, with that aching slowness that had not faded since the attack that had changed all their lives, and turned to give her a grateful smile. Then he asked the dreaded question.

"Have you heard from Harry?"

"Yes." Ginny said quickly, surprised at her own shortness, though Neville's expression did not change. "He's not sure when he'll be back. But – well, we're giving him the time and space." She turned and started walking back towards the Hogsmeade store, Neville falling into step beside her. "I think he'll be okay."

Neville nodded firmly. "He will." He agreed. "Eventually." There was that wisdom again, the same look she had seen in Ron's eyes, and Hermione's, and especially in Harry's – all older before their time, because of one greedy man. She wondered briefly if she had the same look, then decided with a wry smile that she couldn't be that wise, and dismissed it without a second thought.

"I'd better get back – Hermione will be having kittens if I don't stick to her precise schedule."

Neville laughed his short, quiet chuckle that had always made her smile, because she rarely heard it. "That sounds like Hermione." He agreed. "Do you think she'll mind if I stop in and say hello?"

"'Course not!" Ginny returned delightedly. "She'd love it – though I'd watch out, she might try and rope you into helping me." They were nearing the shop by this time, as she giggled and Neville broke into a fresh set of chuckles.

Yes. She suddenly thought, remembering Neville's words. We'll all be okay, eventually.