Ginny's anger will be explained... soon! And read this chapter closely, it is the beginning of a very long series of events (almost ten chapters actually-- maybe more. I'm not done yet :)). Have a good long weekend everybody!

Chapter 11

I spent a lot of my time in that library for the next few weeks. Survivors in the house were starting to come out from hiding, and although I considered them my friends, I didn't go out with them as much.

There was a slight age difference between me and the rest of them. Being the youngest person in the house, I was often looked upon, people checking in on me often. Their concern for my well being was understandable, but I was surprised at how alone they left Harry. I may have been severely hurt, both mentally and physically, but he had won the battle. He had actually lived through Hell.

Members of the house had come to know the Library as 'Beth's Room.' I had spent so much time in there that they were sure if they placed my bed in there, I would never leave. My memory was also starting to come back. Bits of my childhood and family members faces started to appear out of nowhere. Although my Father's name never came to me, I began to remember exactly what he looked like, and my nightmares got worse. I placed a silencing charm around my room at night, to hide the noise I was making.

The two months I spent there passed slowly, and as we entered July, the household became more active with outside activities. Hermione and Ginny went out a lot more, inviting me along, and although I almost never went, it didn't bother me. Remus had also become more active outside of the house. He assisted the ministry with cleaning up small wizarding communities that had been affected by the catastrophe. It was a grueling job, he said, but it made him happy to see these neighborhoods come back to life.

Ron went out with Hermione more often than before, and while Harry was invited to go out more and more, he, like me, said no. There were functions and awards nights, and different meetings that he was invited to. Everyday his owl—a gold barn owl named Junior—brought him piles of mail, and every day he threw it in the fire.

He became increasingly agitated and bitter, his attitude soaring to an all time low. It was when Arthur had brought home and envelope, he had been sent through the roof.

We had been sitting at dinner, all members of the house including Emmeline Vance, a nice older witch, Shacklebolt, Moody, and every Weasley except Charlie, and Percy (who I had come to know through Fred and George). I had been sitting beside Remus and across from Hermione. Harry was sitting at the opposite end of the table.

"Ah, just the man I was looking for," said Arthur as he walked in. He kissed Molly on the cheek and then put an envelope on the table in front of Harry. Molly placed the turkey in the middle of the table, and Arthur pulled out the chair for her before answering Harry's questioning look.

"It's an invitation. Open it up Harry." He gave him an encouraging smile before sitting down beside his wife.

I watched Harry as he tore at the envelope curiously, and pulled out a single piece of paper. Music started to play—trumpets of some sort. Harry read aloud.

"Mr. Potter, You are invited to the first ever annual Light Evening Banquet. In honor of the defeat of the Dark Lord you are requested to attend as our Guest of Honor. It will be a night of fun and dancing… formal dress… schedule to be sent after reply." Harry stopped reading and looked up. "What the Hell are they playing at?" he asked. The smiles that had made their way onto every one's face disappeared. "What the bloody Hell are they playing at?" he asked again.

"Now Harry, it's a great honor!" said Arthur. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I'm not supposed to be telling you this Harry, but there are certain honorable mentions to be had, a certain Order of Merlin?" He coughed and gave a little smile. Nobody said anything.

"I'm not going," said Harry flatly. "No effing way."

"But Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "Without you, there won't be a party…" Harry stood up from the table.

"Excuse me everyone." He turned and marched out of the room. I looked at Hermione who had her head in her hands, Ron rubbing small circles on her back.

"Well dig in everyone," said Molly awkwardly. Arthur stood up and carved the turkey, and the dishes began to be passed around. All that could be heard through supper was the clinking of dishes.

§

"GET OUT!" roared Harry.

"Hey mate, you don't have to go speaking to her like that," objected Ron meekly.

"I TOLD YOU I'M NOT GOING TO THE BLOODY PARTY! GET OUT!"

Someone slammed the door and there was silence. My door was open and I watched a crying Hermione and Ron pad across the landing. Neither of them looked at me.

So far four groups of people had been in and out of his room, and I'd watched all of them walk away, unsuccessful. Remus, Molly and Arthur, and Ginny had all left his room, Harry shouting all the while.

I got up and walked from my room to the library. I picked up my book off the side table, and opened it up to the marker. The picture of the fairy queen looked up at me, before flying off the page and then returning. I continued to read for a good half an hour before I heard footsteps.

Harry walked into the doorway and stopped. "What the eff are you doing here?"

I continued to look at my book, but didn't answer.

"I said, what the eff are you doing here?" he growled.

"It's a free world," I said turning the page. "If you have such a problem with being in the same room with another human being, then you can leave."

He stomped across the room and ripped a book off the shelf before sitting beside me on the couch.

"Don't get on to me about going to the effing party," he said, "because I'm not."

"I wasn't going to. If you don't want to go, that's fine. They're only celebrating your existence, but hey, the glory comes at a price I know. I mean to actually go out and buy a set of robes, show up and eat a free meal in your honor. The nerve of them." The walls absorbed my voice, although the sarcasm could be heard clearly. He had no right to yell at the others that way. He could yell at me, I'd had worse... at least I think I had. I gulped.

"You don't understand." His voice was deadly low, and it sounded more like a growl from some wild animal.

"No, not at all. Quite frankly, I don't see why you wouldn't go. It's the ministry's way of apologizing, they're just not quite sure how to go about it," I said. I closed my book and looked up at him. "They've always been a bunch of misunderstanding jerks if I understand it right, so why would you expect them to leave you alone now?"

He sighed. "I don't know! I just thought that maybe if I got everything over with that maybe they would just eff off." He punched the couch cushion angrily.

"Right, and then you'd go off and live happily ever after? Sweet dreams princess." I glared at him from my spot on the couch.

He stood up, aggravated. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO FACE HIM! YOU DIDN'T! YOU WEREN'T –" he cut himself off.

"You're absolutely right. I wasn't there. I mean, I was just found half dead in the field where it all happened, but I wasn't really there," I said. "I mean, I have this horribly disfigured face, I don't have my memories, and I'll probably never find my family, but you're right. I have nothing to be bitter about compared to you." I stood up. "It's over Harry. Tough luck. You really have to move on." I stood up and walked back to my room.

§

The next two days the house was filled with an eerie silence. It seemed when Harry was mad, the whole house was. Breakfast was also a silent affair. Harry had been taking food in his room, so when he came down the third day after his spat, the room went silent.

"What would you like for brunch, dear?" asked Molly. She smiled kindly.

"Just a glass of juice Mrs. Weasley," said Harry quietly. His voice was hoarse. Everyone looked at him expectantly. I glared.

"I'll go," he said finally. "But just as long as everyone here gets to."

Another stillness.

"Yes!" exclaimed Ron. Everybody looked to him as if he had sprouted tentacles. To my surprise Harry started to laugh. He laughed and laughed until everyone else was snorting into his or her juice. Ron grinned, shrugged his shoulders, and laughed as well.

Harry stood up and looked around the room and the laughing died down. "Anyone up for a quidditch match?"

Ron, Ginny and Bill stood up. "Anyone else?" he asked looking around the room expectantly.

"I'll go," said Hermione dully. "But I can't guarantee a miracle."

"I'll watch," I said. I'd never actually flown a broomstick (at least I thought), but I knew a little about the game from a few of the books I'd read.

"I used to play a little back in the day," said Remus. When Harry cocked an eyebrow he said, "Not any team of course. Your Dad and I used to play for fun Harry." He stood up and followed the group out the door.

§

The orchard behind the mansion was not quite in proportion. Its size was miniscule in comparison to the quadrupled floors of the manor. The trees however, matched the house in age. Tall pines and oak trees were so tall that they drooped at the top.

I sat on the grass, and watched as the six players pushed off the ground. Harry easily looked to be the best, his broom flowing smoothly overtop the air. Ginny also looked comfortable on her broom. Hermione and Remus awkwardly struggled for a few minutes before gaining control, and Ron and Bill were giving each other small glares from across the yard—sibling rivalry at its best.

They played only with the quaffle, and assigned a keeper to each side. Ron and Bill took the positions, and Harry played alongside Remus while Ginny and Hermione teamed up.

I sat in the sun, watching them contentedly. After about an hour I lay down and closed my eyes, the lazy sunlight felt good on my ribs.

I was in a dark room, pictures of me as a child pasted on the walls around me. My Father stood close by, lecturing me.

"I raised you," he was saying, "and this is the way you repay me?" He started to yell and I changed rooms, now in a cage. I tried to scream but nothing came out. The lock on the cage door was tripled bolted, and I couldn't escape. People were laughing at me, but I couldn't see them. I started to panic, the cage bars closed in on me, threatening to squish me, but they stopped inches short of my body. I was trapped so tight I couldn't move. Out of nowhere a mirror was in front of me. I was naked and disfigured. My body wasn't white, but red and bloody, and my face was ten times worse.

I pushed against the mirror, praying for it to break or disappear. I didn't look like that! Not me! I pushed and pushed until my fingers bled and throbbed. I closed my eyes, avoiding my repulsive reflection.

"Beth!" someone yelled.

"I can't see you!" I screamed. "Help me out! I can't see you!"

"Open you eyes," the voice said, an evil cackle to it. " Open them!"

"I can only see me!" I screeched! "I don't want to! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

I was suddenly seeing the clear sky. It was a dream. Just a dream. I sat up. No one had seen me fall asleep. They continued to play into the afternoon, and I watched, brooding over my dream. I didn't know what it meant, and I had a feeling I never would. It was just a dream.

When they touched down, everyone was glistening in sweat. Apparently Ginny's team had won. Hermione and Ginny walked up to me;

"Girl's rock!

Boys eat snot!"

I laughed. "How original," I said.

"It's the truth," said Ginny. "You can't beat the truth." She gave me a sweaty hand, and pulled me to my feet. I brushed the grass off my pants, and walked with them back into the house.