Many thanks to the lovely Anna, who betaed for me in the small hours of the morning!

And thank you to everybody kind enough to review the last chapter! I did try to reply to everybody, but apologise for those I neglected. Title was formerly 'King's Cross', but since the station only features in the first chapter, I thought it better to change it.

Enjoy!

Funerals.

The thought had been consuming Ginny's mind, and her dreams (when she managed to sleep long enough to dream) were full of phoenix song and earth and flowers. She almost cried out on waking, but stifled it, remembering herself in time to avoid disturbing her room-mate.

Fleur was already awake, however. She had neatly folded away all the sheets and blankets that she had been using, and her bed was nowhere to be seen. Clothes were busy finding their place in her large trunk, and she was brushing her long hair.

She must have seen that Ginny was awake through the mirror; she set her brush down with a solemn look and turned around.

"You and 'Arry, you are off tomorrow, oui?"

Ginny shook her head. "Day after tomorrow," she corrected, aware that something seemed to have happened to her voice. It appeared to have shrunk in the night, unaware that its owner was almost seventeen, not seven.

"Bill and I shall be 'ere to say goodbye," Fleur announced, placing her brush in a silver box. "We will Apparate in, and zere will not be too many people in ze morning." She waved her wand, and the ornate box also settled itself into her trunk. "And you will find it easier to get ready, wiz your room all to yourself."

Well. That was certainly true. Ginny picked up Bill's old stuffed bear and hugged it tightly. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted her room all to herself, but she wouldn't say it. Let Fleur think she'd helped for once. She probably just wanted to get out of this house, and Ginny couldn't really blame her, two days shy of doing the same.

"Where are you going first?"

"Not sure," Ginny answered, sitting up in bed. "We haven't really talked about it too much, we've been-" She broke off there, but Fleur knew what she meant. To avoid meeting her sister-in-law's eyes, Ginny got up and began retrieving the things she'd need for the day. "I feel guilty," she said finally, needing to say it to somebody. "He's paying for so much, and I want to pay for some of it, but, well, I can't."

Fleur patted Ginny's shoulder reassuringly. "'Arry understands zis," she said confidently. "'E wants you wiz 'im. You did not invite yourself."

Ginny nodded uncomfortably. She knew Fleur was trying to extend the hand of friendship, but she couldn't bring herself to play along, not when they would be burying her brother in a few short hours. "Thanks, Fleur," she murmured, finding herself swept into a hug.

"I will see if zere ees anytheeng I can do to 'elp with your 'oliday," Fleur said thoughtfully, releasing Ginny.

Ginny was too weary to protest that they didn't need Fleur's help, but felt a dim sense of fore-boding. She hoped Fleur's idea of help didn't mean accompanying them.

Ginny tried not to dwell on the funerals. They buried Fred, Remus, and Tonks side-by-side, despite some protestations from Tonks's mother. It seemed fitting, to Ginny at least. They had fought together, sworn allegiance to the Order, laughed together.

Died together.

She felt a queer sort of pain in her chest, and was glad that she would not have to face three separate ceremonies. She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, feeling Molly Weasley tremble against her.

George had set off a barrage of fireworks, and insisted some sort of banshee music accompany the whole ceremony. Ginny thought she heard Fleur refer to Celestina Warbeck, but let the snide comment pass for once. Celestina did have banshee accompaniment, after all.

Phoenix shapes twisted and turned, burning against the cool summer night's sky. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, but the colours were imprinted on the inside of her eyelids. A set of cheers encouraged her to reopen her eyes, and she saw a fiery green snake weaving its way through thin air.

There was a blast, and the snake erupted into pieces, which flew together again, reforming as a sword.

She gave a half-hearted smile at the thought of Neville. It was nicer by far to think of the future that lay ahead now, ready for anybody to grasp, than of what would never – could never – happen now. Better to count blessings than losses.

She crept away from the white faces and thin lips once they returned to the Burrow, secreting herself round the side of the house.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, other arm wrapped around her knees, and leaned her head back against the outside wall. The quiet filled her, calming her. She found she didn't need to cry, and was relieved in a way. The fireworks were a fitting tribute for her lively brother, and there was no place for tears.

"Hiding?"

She tried to stand upright, and ended up banging her head against a forgotten window ledge. Her eyes were watering now, but out of physical pain. Rubbing her head, she slowly got to her feet to find Harry chuckling at her.

"It's not funny."

"Not in the least," he answered. "We don't find it funny, do we, Ted?"

The boy in Harry's arms gurgled happily at Ginny.

"See? Teddy doesn't find it funny either."

Teddy Lupin. She had never actually had the opportunity to see him up close. Holding her breath – though she didn't quite know why – she moved forward, noticing that the child's hair was beginning to change to a Weasley red as hers came into his line of sight. "That's a good colour," she informed him firmly. "You'll never want to change your hair colour again now."

Just as the words left her mouth, Teddy's hair became jet-black – Harry black. Harry sniggered, and told Teddy what a good boy he was and how proud his godfather was of him.

Ginny swallowed hard, wondering what Harry had looked like as a baby. He'd have been a bit older when Lily and James had died, she thought. They'd have seen him like this, all eager eyes and wandering fingers.

Had he attended their funeral? Had anybody tried to explain what was happening to him? Probably not.

She let out a sigh, and Harry's expression changed at once. "How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.

"I'm okay," she answered honestly, reaching to tickle one of Teddy's feet. "He's adorable."

"Delighted to have your approval," a new voice said, in a clipped tone. Ginny withdrew her hand at once, looking around to see Andromeda Tonks.

"Sorry, Andromeda," Harry apologised, handing his godson over. "I just took him to find Ginny, thought it'd be a good idea getting him out of the way of all the noises."

Andromeda nodded stiffly. Ginny was at once struck by her resemblance to her two sisters – she was somewhere in between, looks wise – until her eyes met Ginny's. Ginny felt her stomach lurch at the sadness in those eyes, and remembered that this woman had lost her husband too, in the past year. And her sister, but she bet Andromeda wasn't too bothered about that part. Bellatrix Lestrange didn't deserve to be missed.

"Are you going to the trial?"

Harry's question startled the brunette. She gave a harsh-sounding laugh. "No. The verdict does not matter to us." She fussed with Teddy's clothing, fixing his hat. "I am surprised that you are choosing to help him."

Harry shrugged. "He wasn't a part of things. They – regret it now, I think. And she saved my life."

Andromeda snorted. "She saved her own life."

Ginny frowned, unable to follow the conversation. Harry was shaking his head determinedly. "She'd have been killed if he'd found out what she did."

The older woman cleared her throat, her expression still showing her doubt. "Well. Even so; the verdict does not matter to us. I think we should be going now, it's time Teddy was fed." She gave the pair of them a scrutinising look, and then she smiled. It looked awkward, as though she was not accustomed to smiling, but it smoothed some of the sorrow from her features. "I hope you enjoy your travels. Be sure to visit Greece. Ted took me there on our honeymoon."

"We will," Harry replied. "Bye, Teddy-bear. I'll come and see you as soon as I'm back."

Harry was late.

They needed to get a hand for him for the Weasley clock, Ginny decided, as she paced back and forth by the fireplace. Then she at least would know if he were in mortal danger or not.

Kingsley laughed. "Patience, my dear," he instructed. "It's a virtue you might want to cultivate."

Ginny's lips tightened and she refrained from comment. It wouldn't do to insult the Minister, especially not when her boyfriend was going to be working for the Ministry.

Just then, Harry entered the door of the Burrow.

"I'm back," he announced unnecessarily, entering the kitchen. "Oh, hi, Kingsley."

"Good afternoon, Harry," Kingsley said pleasantly. "How did the trial go?"

"Malfoy was discharged," Harry replied, shooting Ginny an uneasy look. She froze as if on cue, narrowing her eyes at him, waiting to hear which Malfoy, and waiting to hear why. She was left unsatisfied, though, as he averted his eyes and changed the subject. "I guess you're not here to say goodbye?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Not exactly. The Muggle Prime Minister has expressed a desire to meet you – you're welcome to refuse, of course, but I thought I'd give you the option. And your relatives are due to be moved out of hiding today."

Ginny saw Harry's hands knotting into fists behind his back. "Okay."

"I understand if you don't want to meet with them," Kingsley said, getting to his feet. "I thought you might appreciate the chance to reassure them that everything's back to normal."

A choked sort of laugh emerged from Harry's throat. "Normal. Sure. Er, thanks, Kingsley. I guess I'll come with you, then."

Ginny started. Harry at Malfoy's trial, meeting Muggle Prime Ministers, agreeing to see the Dursleys. And she would be left here, waiting. Again.

Her edginess had evidently shown in her face, because Harry asked if she'd like to come along.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Kingsley laughed and agreed that she could cultivate patience another time.

Kingsley brought them to a small, sparse office in the middle of London. Ginny looked around, searching for signs of anything typically Muggle to interest her father.

Harry was in the middle of explaining the box-like contraption on the desk when Kingsley glanced at his watch and told them he would return in a moment.

Seizing the opportunity whilst she could, she put a finger to Harry's lips, halting him in his description of the board of keys. "Why were you at Malfoy's trial today?"

He sighed, breaking eye-contact with her. "I was giving evidence. For him."

"He was housing Death Eaters! How do you get past that? Besides everything else, oh, I don't know – like trying to kill us in the Department of Mysteries!"

Harry's jaw clenched, and his voice was very strained when he spoke. "Voldemort didn't always need an Imperius Curse to control somebody, Ginny. He wasn't acting of his own free will, not towards the end, anyway. They regret getting involved with him."

Something clicked in Ginny's brain, and she remembered that Harry had told Andromeda the same thing the day before. That would mean Narcissa Malfoy was the one who had saved Harry's life.

"They have suffered enough," Harry continued quietly, evidently thinking he hadn't convinced her. "We all have."

"Then why didn't you tell me you were going?" she replied, equally soft.

He did not provide an answer for this, pretending to be turning his attention to Kingsley, who was re-entering with Harry's family.

Ginny had been secretly delighted at this chance to see the Dursleys at close quarters. She was glad she hadn't shared this with Harry, from the way his shoulders tensed as they came into the room.

She reviewed the opinion entirely at the scream Mrs Dursley let out. She wasn't entirely sure what had caused the woman's upset, until she realised that Harry's aunt's eyes were fixed upon her.

Mrs Dursley was frantically patting the area over where her heart should have been (Ginny didn't really believe that anybody with a heart could have treated Harry so appallingly) and fanning her face with the other hand.

"What is it, Petunia?" Mr Dursley growled, narrowing his eyes at Ginny. "Did she do something to you, Pet? Some of that funny business, eh?"

Petunia collected herself long enough to murmur, "Lily," dramatically.

A cold feeling stirred itself in Ginny's stomach. She knotted her fingers together tightly, the flesh turning white. "I – I'll wait outside," she muttered, shrugging Harry's hand off as he reached out for her.

Once outside, Ginny found herself in a corridor, with only one other occupant – a man, sitting a little further along. He looked up as the door clicked shut but, seeing only Ginny, returned to his newspaper.

She sat down on a cushioned seat right outside the office she had just escaped, tapping her foot, tersely waiting for the door to open again.

When it did, she started to her feet, but sank back down as the bulky form of Dudley Dursley emerged.

"Are you Harry's girlfriend then?"

Ginny folded her arms over her chest, taking in Harry's cousin. There was no discernable resemblance; both boys seemed to take mostly after their fathers. Dudley seemed to shrink under her gaze, which amused her, until she remembered that most of his wizard encounters had not turned out well. "Yeah," she said quietly.

"You don't look like her, you know. Harry's mum," Dudley said, evidently thinking this was the source of her disquiet. "I think it was just the red hair. Do most wizards have red hair?"

Ginny snorted. "No, you've just come across a lot of members of my family," she replied truthfully, kicking at the ground with her heel. "How'd you know what Harry's mum looked like?"

"Mum has a photo of her." Dudley shrugged. "She took it when we went into hiding, and I found it when I went through her stuff. It moves." He paused, shuddering slightly. "So, that man who came to the house, the one who destroyed the living room…"

"Dad," Ginny supplied with a smile.

"And the three boys who came through the wall with him?"

Ginny's smile faded almost instantly. "My brothers," she said softly. Figuring that she should try to keep up the conversation, she added, "One of them didn't make it."

"I'm sorry," Dudley said. He sounded honest. "Did that guy, the one with the long beard, did he make it?"

Dumbledore. She wondered when Dudley had come across him. "No."

"What about the weird one, the one with the funny eye?"

"No."

Dudley ran his hand through his gelled hair, looking awkward. "I'm sorry," he repeated, evidently not wanting to continue the list of the dead. "Good job it's over, then?"

"Yeah. Good job."

A door shut with a loud bang; Ginny looked up, startled, to see Harry standing there.

"Dudley," he said, sounding strained. "Nice to see you. Think your parents are just about to leave."

Dudley nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, thanks."

Harry held his own hands out to Ginny, and she got to her feet, slipping an arm around his waist. Much as she wanted to continue the Malfoy discussion, now wasn't the time, and she had a feeling she would have to let it go completely. An awkward silence fell, in which the forgotten man in the corridor had walked the entire length of it, and was now standing next to them.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" he asked Dudley eagerly.

"Err," Dudley managed, frowning at the man. "Hey, aren't you-"

"Delighted to make your acquaintance!" the man said, shaking Dudley's hand enthusiastically. "I can't tell you how thrilled I was when Mister Shacklebolt said that you wanted to meet with me. I suppose these are your friends?"

Harry sniggered into Ginny's ear, and she gave him a gentle push. "I'm Harry Potter," he informed the Muggle Prime Minister. "That's my cousin, Dudley Dursley."

The Prime Minister's beam didn't falter – he dropped Dudley's hand instantly, and seized Harry's. "Yes, of course you are," he agreed. "Wonderful to meet you, Mister Potter. Fantastic, what you've done. You've got the kind of spirit that makes England what it is today!"

"Er," Harry said. "Thanks."

"Very brave, yes, very brave indeed. I take it this is – a friend of yours?" the Prime Minister asked, gesturing at Ginny and looking disappointed at the lack of response from Harry.

"Yeah," Harry replied, not looking inclined to introduce Ginny. He rubbed his forehead, obviously trying to think of something else to say. "You look different on the telly," he offered finally, and Ginny groaned inwardly. "Sort of – older, I guess."

The Prime Minister frowned at him. "There was an election last year," he said, frustration evident on his face before he managed to cover it with a wide smile. "Perhaps you're thinking of the last leader?"

"Probably."

"Well," the man began, fixing Harry with an intense look. "Hopefully we'll be able to establish a close working relationship between our two governments, so we can do as much as possible to prevent this sort of thing happening again."

"I think that's really something for the Ministry of Magic to decide," Ginny cut in coolly, seeing Harry was going to offer another single word response. She knew he had developed a distrust of politicians and really, after meeting this one, she couldn't blame him. There was something instantly off-putting about him, for all his smiles.

"Quite, quite."

"Dudley's interested in politics, aren't you, Dudley?" Harry put in suddenly. "Muggle politics, too."

From the scowl Dudley sent Harry, Ginny deduced this wasn't entirely true. "Yeah. We vote Conservative, though. I mean, I didn't vote," he said hastily. "Too young. But Dad said he'd disown me if I ever voted Labour."

The Prime Minister's smile was entirely artificial by this point, and it was probably unfortunate for Dudley that his parents had just emerged.

"Oh, I was joking, Dudley!" Vernon boomed, looking anxious. "We're red at heart, couldn't stop playing Things Can Only Get Better. Yes, we voted for – for that chap, didn't we, Pet? Shame he didn't get in, but we'll be ready. Just waiting for a by-election, we are!"

"This way, Mister Dursley," Kingsley said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

The Dursleys followed Kingsley's directions obediently, but Mr Dursley continued to shout supporting things over his shoulder, reassuring him that the Dursleys much preferred him to that chap who wasn't even fit to conduct buses.

She wasn't quite sure what conducting buses had to do with politics, or why it should be relevant that he had had a disgraceful cabinet, but her father had taught her that Muggles were just a bit odd.

"Well, well, quite a – fascinating man," the Prime Minister said weakly.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, that sounds about right. We – ah-" He glanced down at Ginny, apparently stuck for an excuse.

"We should be going," Ginny put in helpfully. "Mum's going spare because I'm not around for my coming-of-age. She wants to spend as much time with me as possible."

Harry pulled up his sleeve to check his watch. "Well, seeing as we only have a few hours to spare, we should probably let her do that. Mister Shacklebolt should be back in a moment to take care of you," he added, addressing the Prime Minister.

Ginny decided that, one day, she would make sure Hermione got the appreciation she deserved. The older girl had spelled one of Ginny's bags so they were able to transport their belongings around with ease, including Bill's tent.

This gratitude did not, of course, extend to cover Hermione's boyfriend. Ron had flat-out refused to look after Arnold whilst Ginny was gone, and had pulled Harry aside twice to warn him about hurting Ginny. It was a fairly stupid move in a house where eavesdropping had been made excessively easy. He had then interrupted a stolen minute between Ginny and Harry by proclaiming that Pig's cage needed cleaning. Grinning, he had told Ginny that she would be best doing it without magic whilst Ron distracted Crookshanks in order to keep Pig safe. Harry had slipped away with a grin, saying it wasn't up to him to come between siblings, leaving Ginny in a foul mood.

She stomped back up to her room afterwards and threw open the door, finding Ron distracting Crookshanks's owner instead. On Ginny's bed.

"Oh, er, Ginny, I'm sorry. We were looking for Crookshanks, weren't we, Hermione?"

Ginny blocked the doorway entirely, fixing her face with the smile she had learnt off the Muggle Prime Minister. "That's okay, Ron," she said brightly. "It's so nice to see you two together!"

Ron looked wary. "Um, thanks, Ginny."

"What was the final push? I don't think you ever told me! Was it Ron's sudden love of literature?"

"Wha-"

"Well, it probably wasn't that, was it, Ron? After all, you only really like one book, don't you? It's that book about charms, isn't it? Was it your charming abilities, then?"

Ron's face was slowly turning red, and he made a lunge for Ginny. Well-practised at running away from irate brothers, she skipped down the stairs and right into an awkward-looking conversation between Harry and her mother.

"No, really, Mrs Weasley, I can't accept it," Harry was insisting, placing a bag of coins on the countertop with a side-look at Ginny.

"Harry, you git," Ron exploded, storming into the kitchen.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley scolded, but it was a half-hearted effort. She still looked uncomfortable as she picked the bag up, turning back to tend to the dinner.

"Sorry, Mum. Harry, you're a complete prat, didn't you read it properly? You're not supposed to show it to them!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ginny, and she shrugged back at him, looking as innocent as she possibly could. "Yeah, sorry, Ron. I must have – uh, must have missed that part."

Please take the time to review. Let me know where you'd like Ginny and Harry to travel to! (though it would have to be within Europe)