Bygones

It was a month after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Somehow, Ginny felt it was wrong to use magic so freely anymore. She couldn't explain why she felt that way.

So Ginny scrubbed at the pots and pans manually, while a thick broth simmered over the fire. She kept an eye on it as she dried a large ladle with a brightly coloured cloth. Behind her, the table was already set for two. Plates, forks and spoons were already laid out. A plate of sandwiches, a plate of pumpkin pasties, and a pie were laid carefully at the centre. Neither she nor George was very hungry these days. No flowers adorned the kitchen.

Mum had left home early to watch Teddy, so that Mrs. Tonks could go with Harry to receive Remus's Order of Merlin, First Class at the Ministry. Dad and Percy were at work, and Charlie had returned to Romania. Ron and Hermione were in Australia, searching for Hermione's parents. Only she, and George were at home. Since George spent much of his day locked up in his bedroom, brooding, Ginny found herself holding fort alone.

Being alone scared her. She longed for company. Anyone.

"Ginny?" asked a soft voice behind her. She turned. Fleur stood rather hesitantly by the table, a hand on one of the chairs. To her at most surprise, Ginny did not feel the rush of annoyance she usually felt when she saw Fleur. In fact, she was rather relieved to see her.

"I 'ave brought you some 'erbs" said Fleur, still hesitant. She held out a basket. Ginny wiped her hands on her apron and took them from her. "Thank you." she said, thickly, and turned back to the broth. After a minute she turned to Fleur again, who was now gazing at the floor.

"Fleur?" Fleur looked up inquiringly.

"Were you going?"

Fleur chuckled weakly. "I weel eef you want me to."

"Please stay." To her surprise, Ginny found that her voice cracked.

Fleur did not say a word. Instead she tied on another apron and started washing the remaining dishes. Ginny noticed gratefully that Fleur was not using magic. Perhaps she understood. Ginny pulled down another plate and a handful of cutlery from a shelf above and placed them on the table for Fleur. Then she began dispensing the food into equal portions on each plate. She looked up. Fleur had poured the broth into a huge tureen, and was placing it on the table.

"Where ees George?" she asked.

"Upstairs."

Fleur understood. "Shall I take 'is food to 'im?"

Ginny nodded gratefully. She was tired. And her heart bled afresh each time she saw George lying there lost and alone without Fred. Fleur piled George's plate and a bowl of broth on a tray and went slowly out of the room.

In a few minutes, Fleur was back, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her apron. This time, Ginny didn't say a word but simply sat at the table and Fleur sat opposite her. They ate silently until Ginny suddenly cleared her throat.

"Fleur?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"I'm sorry."

Fleur looked surprised, then her brow cleared. Then she smiled gently, tearily. Ginny felt grateful that Fleur did not ask why or ask her to explain.

Instead she simply said, "Eet's okay. I understand."