Disclaimer: I do not own any original characters, etc.

Chapter 3

Like Dental Work

The trio was oblivious to Ginny's suffering, as usual at dinner. Her eyes whisked around the Hall for means of escape. Escaping what, she didn't really know herself. Resigning herself for Dumbledore's speech and the Sorting Hat Ceremony she looked blankly at her full plate not remembering putting anything there to start.

"You like sweet potatoes," Ron said and piled more onto her plate through his own overflowing mouth.

Her eyes couldn't help but sparkle. Dumbledore never failed to inspire, and Ron, though he could be a dunderhead at times obviously looked out for Ginny.

Draco, somewhat resentful with her for failing to start a fight looked curiously at her. Her eyes shone. Not like on the train. On the train they were dull and completely void. What was wrong with her? The war was hard on everybody. Especially on him. Did he look changed.

Well maybe he didn't look changed but he was. He wasn't a murderer. He wouldn't fight for either side but he secretly had sought refuge from Dumbledore in exchange for information and an oath that he didn't go back to his father and Lord Voldemort.

Looking around he realized, things have changed, sooner than they would have if they hadn't lived through the war. But the changes would have taken place anyway.

Some where more weary, somber, hurt, dignified, hardened. Some more livened, more accepting, more free having to work beside those who they never would have thought they would.

Goyle grunted on his left trying to grope for the pumpkin pie that was only in Draco's reach. Harrassed because he had been jolted out of his own ponderous thoughts he shoved the pie toward Crabbe having forgotten which thug wanted it in the beginning.

Ginny clapped loudly when Valentino, November was sorted into Gryffindor. Even though they had joined together in the war Hogwarts kept its old tradition.

November was small and delicate with pale skin and hawk like eyebrows. Her black swinging braid she swept over her shoulder and misty hazel eyes that were so dream like seemed to bore into Ginny's own melting brown ones.

Ginny was taken aback. Never had she seen such a fierce 11 year old. She strode to Ginny sat down beside her and said,

"I'm November and I'd be very much obliged if you would take me to my classes tomorrow, thanks."

Under normal circumstances, well maybe not normal, but her old self would have taken this twit rather badly. Instead she only turned her head and said, "if you want."

"I do," November said firmly.

November was a precocious child not only in intellect but she could tell that this girl before her was fading away and if she couldn't stop it she at least wanted to know why. And if she was boisterous and headstrong not unlike Ginny Weasley once was if only a little more unfeeling then… well maybe Ginny would pick herself back up after seeing a sort of her youthful self and then seeing what she has become.

Ginny was true to her word and showed November where to go the next day. Although they were only a few weeks into school things were routine as dental work.

She would listen idly to the trio in her spare time, go to classes. She stared vacantly and expressionlessly at her teachers who were somewhat unnerved by her and all of the other students. The other students. They got back into the swing of things. They didn't brood and repent.

November became a thorn in her side. Always there and pricking. She would not accept being ignored and Ginny was sometimes resigned to her but others she snapped back or laughed at something cynical she had said.

Draco alone in his dorm with none other than the elegant and supercilious Blaise Zambini and the even more supercilious Pansy Parkinson were just loitering. They were like him. They took more active roles in the war working aside Dumbledore than he had but they had had less to lose.

Draco interrupted Pansy who was in peals of laughter after Blaise recounted his most recent confrontation with Sir Cadogen.

"What do you think is the matter with Weaslette?"

Pansy looked at him curiously, " the same that is the matter with the rest of us. She's seen too much."

Indeed, after he thought about it she had. She worked as a Healer though underaged and untrained she was natural with people and healing. Of course she had seen the brunt of the war. The mangled bodies and messes. In the beginning he remembered, she'd roar like a lion and weep for the men and women that were in her care. Of course she lost some. Hers was a pressure he had never known.

And then and there he resolved that he would heal the Weaslette who was much more broken than anybody she had ever healed.

He told his two best friends afraid of their responses.

"We're all in, mate."