Only Half-Weasley
Chapter 11
A/N- I'm on a roll! I just want to let you all know that I am hoping to update this story more quickly, but at the expense of "Life in the Green Eyes of a Crazy Potter" which I won't be able to continue until this summer when I have more time. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
"We're going to see my mother today, aren't we, Professor?" Holly asked Professor Potter when he entered the Hospital Wing Tuesday morning. Professor McGonagall had come in the night before to inform Holly that her mother was improving wonderfully and was expected to wake up the next day.
When Professor Potter walked to the Hospital Wing on Tuesday morning, he was surprised to find Holly dressed and ready to go on the edge of her bed. "Yes, we are," he answered her question. "Are you feeling up to it?"
Holly jumped up and grabbed her cloak. "Quite," she stated. "I've been waiting to leave this place since I got here."
"Hold on, Miller," Professor Potter stopped her. "Let me talk to Madam Hertz first."
Holly's face fell at the thought. "Do you have to?" she whined pathetically. "She's going to come out and check my temperature and everything—I want to see my mum before midnight!"
Professor Potter chuckled, but ignored his student's pleading. Madam Hertz was summoned and just as Holly predicted it took another hour before the school nurse concluded that the red-head was capable of exiting the school without dying.
"That was completely unnecessary," Holly declared irritably after the door to the hospital wing closed behind them.
"That was completely necessary," Professor Potter retorted with a hint of amusement. "I will not be cited by the Ministry simply because a student doesn't want to get checked out of the Hospital Wing."
"I got checked out?" Holly exclaimed excitedly. "You mean I don't have to go back?"
Professor Potter nodded and turned down another corridor causing Holly to run to keep up with him. The pair stopped in front of the professor's office and the teacher turned to look at Holly. "We're going by floo," he said. "Have you ever used the floo network?"
Holly shook her head, looking curiously at the door as if it was about to come to life. Professor Potter tapped on the door and a loud 'click' told the two that the office had unlocked. The teacher opened the door and made room for Holly to enter. Inside, the office looked very much like it always did and somehow, this disappointed Holly.
"Where's the floo network?" Holly asked, looking around the desk and the chairs.
"Do know what the floo network is?" Professor Potter questioned, pulling out a bag from his desk. Again Holly shook her head, but now her eyes locked onto the bag in her teacher's hand. "The floo network is a network between fireplaces. We use connections between fireplaces as a means of communication and transportation."
The clueless look on his student's face told Professor Potter that his explanation was not sufficient enough for her to grasp. Instead of trying to explain further, he opened the bag and handed Holly a small handful of floo powder. "Take my hand," the teacher ordered, holding out his hand. Holly obeyed without question and waited patiently for the next step. "St. Mungo's!" Professor Potter called, and gripped Holly's hand tighter as she gasped in surprise at the glowing green flames. "Jump!"
Professor Potter nearly pulled Holly into the fireplace, but once both of them had made it in safely, the tumbling process through the network began. Fireplaces flew by with flashes of light and Holly even saw other people fly past them going in every direction. The experience fascinated the girl so much, it took her several minutes to realize that their adventure was over and she was standing in the reception area of the hospital.
"Come on, Miller, we need to get out of the way before someone else collides with us," Professor Potter urged her, tugging on her arm.
"Where are we?" Holly asked in a daze.
"The hospital—Holly, we're here to see your mum, remember?"
"Oh yeah," the girl responded, suddenly remembering their mission.
"Harry," the receptionist recognized. "Bringing in another student?"
"Katie, this is Holly Miller," Professor Potter introduced his student. "She's here to see her mother, Jenny Miller."
Katie smiled and pulled out two yellow slips of paper. "McGonagall said that you would be coming," the receptionist commented. "Here are your passes. Mrs. Miller is on the fourth floor, Ward #50."
"Has she woken up yet?" Holly questioned eagerly.
"I don't believe so," Katie answered and laughed as Holly squealed. "Bye, Harry!"
"Oh, I get to be there when she wakes up!" Holly said enthusiastically, practically skipping down the hallway. Up three floors and down two corridors, the red-headed girl finally reached Ward #50. Stepping inside the dark room, she noticed several beds divided by blue curtains. "Which one is Jenny Miller?" Holly whispered to a nurse standing guard.
The nurse pointed to the curtain on the far right and Holly moved toward the curtain. However, half way there, she paused and looked back at the door to realize that Professor Potter was no longer there. Holly walked backed to the door and peeked outside. Her teacher had sat himself on a bench in the hallway outside and was now attempting to take a nap while staring at the ceiling. "Professor?"
Professor Potter jumped at the sound and looked at Holly. "What are you doing, Miller? Don't you want to be with your mother?" he asked her.
"Aren't you coming in with me?" Holly asked nervously.
The teacher chuckled. "I'd hardly think your mother wants to see your school professor when she wakes up," he commented. "I think it's better if you go in alone."
"Please, Professor, I'm nervous," Holly begged. "I don't like hospitals."
"And you want to be a doctor, Miller?" he asked, raising himself from the chair.
"Yes, but I want to open my own practice like my father," the girl explained. "Hospitals give me the creeps."
"You seem fine to me," the professor stated, following Holly into the room.
"That's what you think now!" Holly whispered as she reached her mother's bed. She peeked cautiously behind the curtain and saw her mother's body lying on the bed motionless. Her mother's blonde hair was strewn around her head and her face was pale in the dim lighting. In fact, her mother looked like she was dead and this image of her mother scared her out of her skin. Spinning around in panic, Holly ran into her professor as she tried to rush from the room.
"Holly, are you ok?" Professor Potter asked her urgently, seeing the terrified look on her face.
"I need to go; I need to get out of here," Holly said, fighting her teacher's grip on her arm.
"What's wrong?"
"She's dead, I know she is," Holly began to sob. "She's dead like my father and she's not coming back and I'm alone and—"
"What's going on?" the nurse of the ward questioned angrily. "Child, you are going to wake up all of the patients."
"My mother—she's dead!" Holly exclaimed, pulling herself out of her teacher's grip. She darted out of the room before the teacher could catch her again and he heard her footsteps clamouring down the hall.
The nurse turned to Professor Potter with the same questioning look. "She thinks her mother is dead, but I'm sure she was just frightened," he explained.
Peeking around the curtain, the nurse and Professor Potter looked at the woman lying on the bed. The nurse walked over to her and checked her pulse and breathing. "She's quite alive," the nurse assured him. "I don't know what came over her."
"Neither do I," the teacher answered.
A soft stir in the bed and a murmur from behind the curtain caught both individual's attention and they both looked behind the curtain. With a small flutter, Ginny's eyes brushed open, taking in her surroundings. Her looked at the ceiling, then at the curtains, at the nurse, and then turned to Professor Potter—"HOLY MERLIN!" the woman shrieked. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
"Mrs. Miller! You need to calm down!" the nurse cried, pulling the curtain to hide Professor Potter form the patient's view. The woman still continued to shout in panic, but after several moments, the nurse was able to get her to settle down back in her bed.
"You're going to be ok, Mrs. Miller. I am just going to go get your daughter," the nurse told her, coming from behind the curtains. "Like daughter, like mother," the nurse muttered. "You had better go get the daughter or this woman is going to go to have another panic attack."
The teacher hurried from the room in search for the younger Miller. He checked the reception area, the first three floors and then the fifth floor where the tearoom and hospital shop were located. Behind a pile of shirts blasting the words, "Out of my mind--Back in five minutes," on them, Harry spotted Holly curled up in the corner of the hospital shop.
"Hey, don't you want to come out and see your mum?" Professor Potter asked gently.
Holly's eyes grew wide in trepidation. "No, you can't take me to the orphans' home," she cried in panic. "I won't go. You can't make me."
Professor Potter kneeled down in front of the girl. "Your mum is fine," he said gently. "Don't you want to come and see her?"
"I saw her! She wasn't fine!" Holly protested.
"I promise she is," the teacher refuted. "Would I lie to you?"
Holly was silent for a moment staring at her feet before nodding. "You lied to me about the broom. You said it was safe and I still got hurt," she muttered with eyes still focused on the ground.
Professor Potter put a hand on the girl's shoulder and patted her shoulder. "Holly, you just have to trust me."
She lifted her brown eyes to look at the teacher. "Okay," she murmured. Professor Potter held out his hand and pulled Holly out of her hiding spot. The redhead dusted herself off and followed her teacher silently out of the shop. Neither muttered a word until they reached Ward #50 where a surprise was waiting for both of them.
Coming out of her dark stupor, it took a moment before Ginny realized that people were mumbling around her. Her ears picked up the sounds and distinguished the voices gradually while her eyes lagged behind and continued to sleep lazily. The voices were worrisome and in the background, she could hear footsteps pattering on the ground. Ouch! Loud sounds weren't good for her head.
The mumbling continued and Ginny's mind became curious to know who was talking around her. With a little effort, her eyes fluttered for a moment until they finally opened wide. She looked around the room, first to the left and then gradually to the right. The blurry blobs of matter made a lovely image of black and white until her eyes focused in on what she was seeing. A nurse was standing a few feet from the bed, looking anxiously at her while a second person who looked oddly familiar stood next to her. Why did he look so familiar? Wait! She knew that face. It was---
—"HOLY MERLIN!" the woman shrieked, sitting up in and grabbing her sheets for support. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
The nurse was at her side instantly, trying to calm her down. "Mrs. Miller! You need to calm down!" The curtains were pulled and Harry's face disappeared behind it.
Ginny's heart raced. "What am I doing here?" she continued to shout. "Where am I? What happened? What is he doing here?"
"You're going to be ok, Mrs. Miller. I am just going to go get your daughter," the nurse asserted.
"My daughter? Where is my daughter? Is Holly here? Is she ok?" Ginny went on. The nurse disappeared behind the curtain and that annoying mumbling began again, but the sound seemed to calm Ginny down. Her head ached horribly and her mind was a disorganized jigsaw puzzle whose pieces would not match up at all. In fact, she didn't even know why she had been yelling a second ago. Oh, this was horrible!
"The professor is going to bring your daughter, Mrs. Miller," the nurse assured her. "You need to lie back down and not move your head so much."
Ginny followed the nurse's instructions and fell back into her pillows. Her energy was now drained from her and going back to sleep seemed very welcoming. Before she could allow her eyes to close and her brain to fall into a deep slumber, her daughter was at her side, poking her shoulder.
"Mum?" Holly said hesitantly.
The words created a new sense of awareness and the mother turned her head to look at her daughter. "Holly," she smiled, but the smile turned into shock. "Your hair!"
"Oh, this?" she said, indicating her long locks of red hair. "Well, you always wanted a red-headed daughter, didn't you?"
Ginny tried to laugh, but her chest ached and only managed to chuckle softly. "It looks…nice. I'm so…glad to see you…" The words came out of her mouth slowly as it was now hard to speak without her head hurting. This would be something she needed to keep in mind—not to scream after any head trauma.
"Professor Potter brought me here, Mum," Holly declared more confidently. "And when you go home, I get to go with you!"
"That's…good," Ginny murmured.
Holly looked at her mum with wide-eyes. She looked at the bruises on her head and arms, the worn look on her face, and the confusion in her eyes. "Are you ok?" she asked.
"I don't…know."
"You look awful," Holly continued. "Does your head hurt?"
Ginny nodded and closed her eyes.
"If you want to sleep, you can sleep. I'll just sit right here until you wake up again," Holly decided.
"No…keep talking," Ginny said. "Tell me…how you…like school."
The eleven-year-old chattered for a good hour until she realized that her mother had indeed fallen asleep and was no longer listening to her. When this happened, Professor Potter came around the curtain and motioned for Holly and come outside.
"You need lunch," Professor Potter declared once they were outside of the ward. "It's nearly two and you never ate breakfast."
Holly shrugged her shoulders as she followed her teacher through the hospital. "I guess I haven't been very hungry," she confessed. "She looks awful."
"She will get better," he predicted. "They all do. You'll see when you come back on Friday."
The girl nodded, her heart clinging onto any hint of hope in the words that her teacher spoke. All of the misery she had felt previously for her mother evaporate when she had seen how weak and broken her mother really was. It was enough to make her cry a thousand tears. Ginny Miller had always been strong, but Holly was beginning to realize that strength has a limit and her mother was reaching the end.
Back down the stairs, Professor Potter and Holly took the floo back to Hogwarts where she was allowed to eat with her friends once again. That gloomy morning was forgotten as she sat in the common room and nibbled on some bread and cheese, laughing at the twins' horrible impressions of Professor Laumie. There really was hope. There always is.
"Mother, are you ready to go?" Holly inquired as she looked around the ward. It was Friday, the day her mother was finally allowed to leave her bedpans and curtains and return to her refuge. Ginny Miller was sitting on her bed dressed in dark blue robes and smiled as her daughter entered the room. "Professor Potter is here to take us home."
"Professor Potter?" Ginny repeated.
"The Deputy Headmaster," Holly said as Harry entered the room. "He's my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I thought you knew him."
"Oh, I do," Ginny confirmed, sending Harry a hesitant smile. "Who doesn't?"
"Are you ready, Mrs. Miller?" Harry asked.
Ginny looked around the room, trying to appear as if she was making a last check of all her belongings, but really trying to avoid looking at him. "Yes, I think so," she answered at last. "Are we apparating?"
"Taking the floo," the teacher corrected, reading the odd expression on Ginny's face. "I just need to make sure that both of you make it home just fine."
"Right," she said, sliding off of the bed. "Let's go then."
Holly walked next to her mother, holding her mother's arm while Harry took the lead in front and carried Ginny's belongings in her bag. Ginny had been checked out earlier that morning and was only waiting for daughter before she took the trip home. Now she was taking her daughter's teacher and her ex-boyfriend with her! Oh, this was going to be a disaster. She knew the apartment was still in disarray from before she left for Diagon Alley and the thousands of pictures of a red-headed Ginny and a blonde-haired Holly would surely give her identity away. No, she wasn't ready for that. Not today. Not like this.
"Could I go through first?" Ginny requested when the three were ready to take the floo. "I know the apartment is a mess and I would like to clean up a little before you enter."
"Of course," Harry answered good-naturedly, throwing the powder into the fireplace.
Ginny said the address and limped into the fireplace. She twirled, tumbled, and spun around until she finally fell into her living room. However, didn't waste a moment in trying to fix things. Spells flew at every picture frame, turning every red-headed Ginny into a blonde woman looking very identical to her daughter. Zap! Zap! Zap!
"Mum, what are you- oh wow," said Holly in surprise. She took one of the picture frames off of the desk and studied it. "You're changing them?"
"Don't ask questions! Just help!"
"I don't know how-"
"Hello?" Harry called out from the fireplace. Ginny and Holly froze, watching Harry pick himself up and dust off his robes. "Er…this is a nice place."
"Thanks," Ginny said, charming the last picture as Harry looked away. "Oh, you can just set those bags in the kitchen. I will take care of it later," she instructed him. "Would you like some tea?"
"Please," Harry answered, setting the bags down on the floor. "It is alright if I used the loo?"
"Yes, it's the door at the very end of the hall," Ginny answered, walking to the kitchen and filling a pot with water from the spout. She let out a deep breath as she set the pot on the stove, relieved from her narrow escape. She wished more urgently than ever that Harry would leave, but she knew that she could not be obvious about it. A pot of tea would be an excellent excuse for Harry to leave as tea made her drowsy and Harry could not deny her sleep.
Waiting for the pot to boil, she took a seat at the table and allowed her head rest in her arms. Harry Potter in her apartment! This was not a part of her plan. In fact, Harry was not a part of any of her plans. This was not supposed to happen! Distant memories welled up in Ginny's mind, memories that she wanted to forget a long time ago. They were memories of her young adulthood that were marked by the pain and misery this man had caused. Each memory was flooded with tears, embarrassment, hurt feelings, and the hopelessness that characterized each day until she met Alex. Holly's father had been the hope and light of her life; everything that Harry failed to be. Why did Harry need to hurt her so?
"Can you tell me where you got this?" Harry questioned interrupting Ginny's thoughts. Ginny glanced at the object in his hand and nearly gasped. In his hand was a picture of a red-headed Ginny smiling brightly at the camera while a dark-haired man was holding waste in a loving manner. The small picture was from her honeymoon that she kept on the hallway table and looked at quite often.
She struggled to keep her alarm unnoticeable, but Harry's expression showed that he sensed her discomfort. "They were my friends," Ginny answered quietly. "They…er…died twelve years ago in a car crash."
The words struck Harry like a pile of bricks falling out of the sky. "Died?" he repeated incredulously.
Ginny nodded. "I knew Ginny Weasley very well," she explained half-truthfully. "We were good friends in our sixth and seventh years and I was there for her when her brother left to fight Voldemort with you and Hermione. Ginny and I kept in touch after school and I attended her wedding. They died the Christmas after they were married."
"What happened?" Harry asked, turning back to the picture and examining it closely.
"Drunk driver," she said hesitantly. "Ginny was in labour and they were on their way to the hospital. The other car was speeding down a side street and failed to stop at the light. They were taken to the hospital, but both Alex and Ginny died that night." Ginny looked up at Harry who was still staring at the picture. His eyes seemed lost in another time and place.
"Can I borrow this?" Harry asked abruptly. "I want to show her family. No one knew that she died."
Ginny tried to muster up the most surprised expression she could. "They didn't know?" she questioned.
"No," he answered bitterly. "We have always wondered what happened to her. It's about time they knew."
Ginny nodded in agreement. "Then take it," she said sympathetically, "and please send my condolences to her family."
"I will," Harry responded. He straightened up his robes and tucked the picture into his pocket. "I will be here on Sunday at eleven to take Holly back to Hogwarts. I will be sure to return your picture before she leaves. Thank you, Mrs. Miller." Harry nodded his head at Ginny and disapparated. Standing up from the table, the hot water whistled behind her. She turned off the water and plopped down on the couch next to Holly, somewhat amused that Harry did not stay for tea.
"So, Mum," Holly spoke up curiously, "I didn't know you died in a car accident. I must be dead, too, huh?"
Ginny sat down across from Holly and looked at her gravely. "When your father died that night, the Ginny everyone once knew died with him. I wasn't entirely lying, Holly."
Holly raised an eyebrow. "She died? Or did you just bury her like you bury everything else so that you can replace it with a bunch of lies just to make you feel better?" With that, Holly walked to her room and slammed the door shut, leaving Ginny to ponder the truth in her daughter's words.
Hermione Weasley sat on the floor with what looked like a sponge and a bottle of Mr. Mikey's Magical Cleaning Solution in her hands. She had been cleaning for several hours and the stench that developed last weekend was still lingering. As she was about to pour more solution on her sponge, a sharp knock on the door caught her attention. "Ronald, get the door!" she yelled from her place on the floor.
Inside his study, Ron groaned as he spilled ink on an important document. "I'm busy right now, Hun," Ron called back, trying desperate to wipe of the ink with his sleeve.
"I don't care, get the door! I'm busy cleaning your moldy food out of the fridge!" she hollered, setting down the solution bottle too aggressively on the floor and splattering the liquid all over the fridge, the floor, and her robes.
Again, the door knocked and Ron gave a tired groan and made sure it was loud enough that his wife could hear it from the kitchen. As much as he hated pointless and boring paperwork, his wife didn't need to know that. He got up for the chair and moved to the door, pausing briefly to sneak a peak at Hermione cleaning in the kitchen. "Looks like I got the better end of the deal," he thought to himself as he left the kitchen. Opening the front door, he raised an eyebrow at who was standing there.
"Hey, mate," Harry Potter said grimly. "Could I come in?"
The familiar voice carried into the kitchen and Hermione looked towards the door. "Harry, is that you? What are you doing here?" she yelled, a little bit hoarse from all of the yelling she was doing. Ron stepped back to allow Harry entrance and followed his friend into the kitchen where his wife was still settled in the middle of the floor.
"Oh, you know, quit my job," said Harry sarcastically. "What are you doing in here, Hermione?"
"Cleaning Ron's mess," she answered, giving her husband a dark look. "There is a horrible smell in the refrigerator and I am trying to get rid of it."
Ron, not paying attention to Hermione, stopped next to Harry. "You q-quit?" he asked unbelievably.
"I was joking, Ron," Harry explained, waving a hand at him to forget about it.
Ron let out a heavy breath. "Don't do that!"
"Sorry, mate," Harry apologized and quickly changed the subject. "Look, I'm not here on business, but I have something important that I need to tell you two about."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry curiously before she turned back to the refrigerator and began cleaning again. "You'll want to sit down, Hermione," Harry told her and nodded at Ron to do the same.
"Mr. Weasley?" a voice called from the living room.
Ron's face paled as he looked into the next room. "Hold on, Harry, I need to take care of something," Ron said before rushing out of the room.
Hermione glared as she watched her husband leave the room. "What could be so important? Never mind. Do you want tea, Harry?" she asked, picking up a kettle with her left hand. Harry nodded and sat down on one of the bar stools behind the counter. Hermione worked silently until she heard a bang from the next room. "Not again," she muttered. "Harry, can you take over while I find out what Ron is doing."
"Sure," Harry said and picked up the kettle, nearly burning his hand in the process. "Ouch! Why don't you two have an electric kettle?"
"Get over it, Harry!" Hermione called from the living room. "Ronald!" her voice quieted and Harry had to strain his ears to hear her talking to her husband. "You're best mate is in the kitchen and you're in here playing games? That's extremely rude!"
"Hermione," Ron whined faintly. "I'm not playing games. This is important!"
"You have five minutes before I come back in here and hex you!" Hermione threatened and appeared back into the kitchen, looking a bit irritated. She sat down on the bar stool that Harry had been vacating and stared at the opposite wall.
Harry glanced at Hermione for a second and promptly turned back to the kettle, unsure of what to say. When it began to whistle, he pulled it off of the stove and turned off the head. "Where are the tea bags?" he inquired.
"Cabinet to the right of the sink," she replied absentmindedly.
Harry picked out three tea bags and three cups out of the cabinet. "I will be in London for the weekend," he told her, pouring the boiling water into each of the cups.
"Wonderful," Hermione answered impatiently. "You didn't have to ask me to sit down to tell me that. You could have told me that while I was sitting on the floor."
"That's not all I wanted to tell you," Harry answered, handing her a cup of tea and taking a sip out of another one. "I'm waiting for Ronald to finish with his business call. Even stolen cauldron sales take less time."
Ron walked in covered from head to toe in soot, still furious with his wife. "I am not horribly rude!" he argued.
Despite her annoyance, Hermione laughed at her husband's appearance. "Yes, you are. Now sit down. Harry wants to tell us something."
"Harry knows I'm not rude, don't you Harry?" Ron asked hopefully.
"Tea, Ron?" Harry offered.
Hermione laughed again, earning an angry look from Ron. "Harry! I'm about to get back down on that floor and clean out that dirty fridge if you don't tell me what is going on right this instant!"
"Fine, fine," Harry answered, his expression becoming unusually solemn. As Ron began to mutter angrily under his breath, Harry dug into the pockets of his robes and pulled out the picture decorated with a silver frame.
"Ronald! Stop that mumbling!" Hermione told him as she took the frame from Harry. Her eyes grew big as she recognized the person in the picture. Her voice trembled as she turned back to Harry, "Where did you get this?"
Ron ceased his mumbling and looked over his wife's shoulder. His expression hardened when he, too, saw the couple in the picture, "Who is that? And why does he have his arm around her like that?"
"That, apparently, was Ginny's husband…Alan? I don't remember his name. This picture was taken 12 years ago before she died," said Harry quietly, fixing his eyes on a spot on the counter.
Hermione looked at Harry incredulously. "Died?" she repeated.
Ron, who had been momentarily paralyzed when Harry was explaining the man in the picture, woke up at the sound of his wife's distressed voice. "She died?" he echoed.
"Twelve years ago," Harry reiterated. "I got this picture from one of her friends. Did you ever hear of a 'Jenny Miller' at Hogwarts?"
"Is that the person you got this picture from?" Hermione inquired, remembering the patient at St. Mungo's. "I think 'Miller' is her husband's name—not hers. But I do recall a Jennifer a year below us. I think she was in Hufflepuff."
Ron shrugged, looking quite confused. "No clue."
"You would know better than me, Hermione," Harry told her.
"Say that again," Ron commented.
"You don't remember her, Ronald? She used to sit with that group of Hufflepuffs by the lake. We would talk to them sometimes," Hermione said thoughtfully.
Harry tore his eyes away from the counter to give his friend an odd look. "You think he remembers that far back? He can't even remember what he ate last Monday for dinner."
Ron frowned and gave his friend a good jab in the side. "Oy! I can, too! It was…something…Hermione, what did we have last week?"
Hermione stifled a laugh while Harry snorted into his cup of tea. "We had steak," she informed him.
Ron gave Harry another jab in the side that caused the latter to spray tea all over the counter. "Hey!"
"Oh, sorry, Harry," Ron said sarcastically. "'Must have slipped my mind to stop my elbow."
Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, sending a jab Ron's way. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes at the two. "Do you think we should tell your mum, Ron?" Harry asked in a graver tone.
"Of course, you should tell Molly! It's her daughter! She has the right to know what happened to her!" Hermione argued.
Ron shook his head in response. "It's my sister, Hermione, and I prefer her lost in comparison to dead. How do you think Mum will take this? I am not sure she can deal with it. Ginny was her only daughter…"
"She still deserves to know!" Hermione disagreed. "Yes, Molly will be devastated, but would you rather think your daughter has been mad at you for years or finally know what happened to Ginny?"
"She already thinks Ginny is dead, Hermione," Harry reminded her. "I've got to pick up Holly on Sunday and take her back to Hogwarts. Should I just casually ask some questions?"
"Of course you should. I want to know every detail!" Hermione said eagerly.
Ron rolled his eyes mockingly. "But of course, Hermione."
"Then why don't you go with me?" Harry offered, ignoring Ron's comments.
"Well," she said hesitantly. "I really do need to finish cleaning the fridge and this could take a while." She looked at the fridge, then at Harry, back at the fridge, then again to Harry, and finally sighed. "I guess I could go. But I want to get this fridge cleaned out as much as possible first."
Harry grinned at her as she kneeled down in front of the refrigerator and resumed her scrubbing. "Hermione, you're wonderful."
"Oh what, so she's wonderful now? What about me, huh?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose at the returning smell from the fridge and inching away from it.
"You're still my best mate," Harry said, patting Ron on the back.
"Do you want to stay for dinner, Harry?" Hermione asked, pausing from her duties.
Harry gave her a disgusted look. "Don't tell me you are planning to eat the food that makes that smell."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The food is already cooking in the oven, I'll have you know," she returned.
"Well, in that case, I guess I could stay for a while," Harry gave in with a smile.
The three continued to chat until dinner was over and hours after the last fork was put down. Yet, the topic of Ginny was mostly forgotten and only existed in a hidden place in the back of their minds. The picture frame rested face down on the counter where no one dared to glance at it or touch it until Harry put it away in his pocket again.
When Harry finally returned home, he collapsed on his bed, the bottled up emotions from that day finally surfacing. He pulled out the picture from his pocket and studied it again this time there was watching him intently. He was quite alone in his apartment, alone with the memory of someone he had loved dearly. At first the picture angered him, bringing back memories of that night that he stormed out of her apartment and out of her life. But then, slowly, the anger turned to sadness and a single tear dropped from his eyes. He was now angry with himself; angry that things between them had turned out so horrible, that he had left her so quickly after he returned home from the war, and that he never got to say he was sorry or even say good-bye.
The tear dried quickly and the picture was tucked away again. By dawn, Harry's real emotions were masked behind an image of a teacher, though there was little for Harry to hide behind. After learning of Ginny's death, a part of Harry seemed to die as well.
Thank you MiKaYGiRl, Danielle, eaglesnest, Amarthiel, smidget, piratesswriter, tlfsjs, dauby, sidlovesnancy1979, and spyhorse for reviewing chapter 13! I really appricate the support!