The Ticking Life
Chapter — 1
Reunion
A silent wind blew around, leaking around from the many cracks and holes in the wall of the Great Hall. The sun was shining brightly, like it too was rejoicing the day's event, bathing the Great Hall with magnificent shades of red, orange and yellow. Everything seemed to be dead quiet, as everyone tried to digest what had just happened. They had finally, finally managed to get rid off Voldemort, or a boy had finally managed to did that for them.
But the boy in question was nowhere to be seen, nor were his two best friends. Every pair of eyes was either fixed on a distant point unseen to other or were searching around, trying to find the boy to share their happiness with him.
On the far end of Gryffindor table sat a group of red heads, their heads huddled together. They seemed oblivious to all the silent commotion around them. On the table, lay a body of a redhead, a smile etched on his pale and unmoving face. Silent tears were leaking from all of their eyes, shining like small pearls in the bright sunlight.
+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+
This couldn't be happening. Now the war was over and Ginny could feel its effect on the world around her. Everywhere, in every corner and niche was a dead body, each of it depicting its own tale of heroism. She could see wet eyes in every corner and the grief around her was so palpable that now grief was pumping in her heart, not blood. She just couldn't take it anymore.
What was the use?
Every sight of the dead, every glance at them was depicting, shouting to her that the world had changed. Now there is no evil, but for what cost. Hundreds of life. Was it worth it? If you ask her; no, it wasn't.
The sight of the dead was so painful for her heart that she hadn't looked at Fred's body. What was the use? Every time she looked at some dead body, the sight of the night horror would come rushing to her. And she couldn't even dare to imagine what effect seeing Fred body would have on her.
So, she just cried, cried on her mother's shoulder. In her Mum embrace, she felt a feeling of warmth and feeling of being protected. Her body felt weak, weak beyond imagination.
A howling wind blew around her and a sequence of noise played in the back of her mind. It took much time for the noise to sink in her mind, but when it did, her body stiffened in response.
BANG, CRASH, SLAM, THUD, AND THUMP.
It sounded as someone was falling from stairs and very painfully. But she didn't have the courage, the guts to turn around and look. She had seen enough violence to last a lifetime and her mind wasn't prepared for seeing more blood, hearing more cries of pain and above all living with that image.
"HARRY!"
Ginny eyes instantly flew open, rubbing harshly against the fabric of her Mum's dress. But she didn't care. That word was all she needed to pump the adrenaline in her blood. And what was more depressing and disheartening was the fact that the crier sounded scared. The time difference between the noises and the crying of Harry's name was less than a second. Did it mean…
She didn't complete the thought; instead she jumped to her feet and turned around. Her feet swayed and her knees buckled. She didn't care. The images from last night came rushing to her, the limp body of Harry, the victorious laugh of Voldemort, the pain…
And she saw for herself. Harry's head banging on the lower step, spraying blood all around him, drenching his clothes and the steps of the stairs. Suddenly there was a collective incantation of "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Harry body zoomed up, narrowly missing the wall. His blood swayed in the air like some sort of elegant red line, twirling and twisting in midair before drenching everyone in it.
"ARE YOU MAD?" Hermione cried, the tears in her eyes sparkling her cheeks. She gently levitated Harry down, as Ron pushed everyone aside.
Ginny on the other hand was too stunned to speak; her body felt like it was made of hardwood.
This can't be happening, this can't be happening…
All around her people were in chaos, the world for them seemed to run at lightning fast speed. But for her, time was rewinding, retracing its path. She soon found herself in Hogwarts ground, looking at the limp body of Harry cradled lovingly in Hagrid arms. The pale face, the unmoving hands, the peaceful yet pained expression…
"HARRY!"
She cried, pulling herself out of the past. Tears started to run down her cheek, as her eyes looked madly around trying to figure out where Harry was. Most of the Great Hall was nearly empty except some staggers, who were looking at something on the steps.
Ginny too, glanced at the particular direction and her body froze with a lurch. The stairs were sprinkled with blood; the red liquid was simmering magnificiently in the bright sunlight. The pollen grains and dust in the air that were now captured in the blood was swirling and twirling lazily in it, looking like they were doing some kind of victory dance.
"No," Ginny said, whipping out her wand. Even the thought of seeing Harry blood was so painful to her, and seeing it and in so much quantity, she couldn't even start to fathom the pain it brought. Her breath was hitching and her throat was strained, so strained that breathing was turning out to be a very hard task.
"Scourgify!" she cried and cried and cried and cried again and again… She swished and flicked her wand continuously siphoning every bit of blood from the stair. She wanted to remove every bit of evidence that even remotely suggested that something to Harry had happened here. Her knees buckled and swayed, but she continued even after the stairs were cleaned. Because every time she saw the stairs, every time she looked at the walls, she felt the stream of blood drenching her.
Suddenly, a pair of hands held her from behind, stopping her frantic moments. Ginny turned around hastily and in one swift moment, pressed her wand tip to the throat of the man. Her red tresses fell all over her face, obscuring her vision. Her eyes were burning with fury, fury of so much power that it could've made anyone cower like a terrified cat. She was breathing in hard, ragged gasps, and her body was quivering. It was not because of the rage, it was because of the pain.
All she had been doing was to provide her mind a distraction, a very much needed distraction to overcome the pain. But now held between a pair of strong hands, she just couldn't do anything except crying. Her throat was still strained, clenched so tightly that only source of oxygen for her was her mouth. The building sobs inside her finding no way out, started shaking her body. With every passing sob, her body shook from head to toe as her vision blurred from her tears and the flashes from yesterday night.
She slowly lowered her wand and gave into the strong hands of the man. She felt drained; she had no energy left in her. Only thing which was keeping her upright, on her feet was the support of the man.
Time continued to trickle away, and everything continued to follow its course. But Ginny stood there, feeling empty. She wanted to go and see Harry, but at the same time, she was scared, scared because she believed that she couldn't be able to see Harry that broken-up again.
But she needed to see him, needed to make sure that he was okay, needed to know that he won't leave her again.
She pulled her head away from the man's chest and looked up in his eyes. Bill stood there, his eyes and cheeks glistening with tears. Some scratch and burn marks embossed his face and hands, but he didn't seem to care. His red hair was signed at various points and some of them were completely burnt.
"Ginny…" he started looking uncertain, "Are you all right?"
Before she had the time to answer, a man Ginny didn't recognise came running to them, as they were the only person in the Great Hall now and panted out, looking at Ginny "Where can I found some Blood-Replenishing Potion?"
Ginny's heart almost stopped beating as she asked the man, "Who needs the potion?" She finished in a whisper, dreading the answer which was about to come.
"Are you mad?" he snarled and turned to Bill. But before turning away completely, he said, "Harry Potter."
The words were like a trigger to her. She pushed the man aside and ran up the stairs, as tears leaked from her eyes. The way to the hospital wing was unusually long and hurdled. People seemed to block her way, looking like they were preventing her from reaching Harry, her Harry.
Finally she reached the doors to the hospital wing. She crashed open the door, her eyes sweeping around the room, trying to find the huddle of red hairs. There was none. The hospital wing was surely filled with people, but there was no trace of Weasley's in the wing. And if they were not here, it clearly implied that Harry wasn't here too.
She turned, grabbed the cuff of the first person her hands sought and asked, her voice shaky because of the panic she was feeling, "Where's Harry?"
The man sneered, making Ginny's inside boil. She was literally a second away from cursing the hell out of him, when he answered, "Don't we all wonder that? He's not here that's for sure."
The matter-of-factly tone he had used, left Ginny burning in anger. But she knew she didn't have much time. She needed to find Harry, to make sure he was all right. She couldn't lose Harry, not after when she had just lost Fred.
So, she turned again and asked other people. Some were sympathise, some just ignored her but none of them gave her the answer. They all said they didn't know and for once she felt completely hopeless.
She slumped to her knees as her body shook with the amount of sobs. She got a feeling that she was going to lose him, again. Her world started to spin as her vision was blocked by small black circles. It was as if the world was confirming her that what she thought was right, that she would lose Harry. So she tried to fight the darkness, but being that exhausted and having no strong motive at all, pushed her to the loosing side.
She felt something warm draping around her shoulder. Her vision cleared a little, but soon to be spun again. She drew in a noisy breath and her body shuddered. She felt helpless, no not helpless; she felt beyond helpless. There was no feeling in her heart, it felt almost dead.
"Ginny…"
The voice was familiar to her. But she couldn't put a finger on the name of the owner of the voice. When she opened her lips to reply, to ask who the person was, only this came out,
"Where's Harry?"
She hadn't excepted a answer; all her hopes were crushed in a fine powder by all the ignorance and the negative answers. And she was pretty much taken aback when the person answered her query.
"He is in Gryffindor Common Room, in my old dorm," the person replied and Ginny's heart stopped for a fraction of second as the information imprinted in her head. And as soon as her mind grasped the fact completely, her heart started beating erratically.
"You are not kidding, are you?" she asked as she turned around, facing the owner of the voice. Neville stood there, looking weary and battle worn. The look of deep seriousness of his face made it quite clear that he wasn't joking.
So without thinking twice, she pushed him aside as every feeling returned to her heart. Her heart felt lively, full of life as she stormed out of the hospital wing and up the stairs. She didn't care how many people she bumped in the way or how many things she broke because she was heading towards a goal and it would take the combine power of hell and heaven to stop her.
Soon, she was running to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Some people were walking around the portrait, looking like they were guarding it.
But Ginny couldn't care less. She trudged to the portrait and demanded, "Open up."
The four persons who were walking around the portrait stopped and looked at her. Ginny glanced at them for a fleeting second and recognised them as D.A. members. They didn't raise any objection as they continued their patrolling.
Ginny was growing impatient; Fat Lady was behaving as she didn't even exist.
"Let me in," Ginny ordered, stamping her foot.
"No, I won't," Fat Lady replied flatly, and started ignoring her again.
Ginny turned to the D.A. members and ordered, "Let me in."
"Humour me," one of them said. Ginny looked at the owner of the voice and saw Seamus.
"What do you mean by 'humour me'?" Ginny asked as she leaned against the wall.
"What do you think we are doing here?" Seamus asked, as he sat on the floor, his back pressed on the cold wall.
"Guarding…" Ginny supplied, not sure of herself.
"Guarding?" Seamus asked, disbelief etched all over his face, "Honestly. Don't you think we all have some other important things to do? I just came here to have a bit of sleep, when this" — he pointed at the Fat Lady portrait, (who cried, "Now I'm this.") — "refused point blankly. I have been trying to cajole my way inside, but it has been in no way successful. So I'm waiting for someone who will let me enter. When you came, I thought, finally. But no you don't know the bloody password yourself." He finished in an accusing tone.
"How am I supposed to know?" Ginny demanded, feeling a little indignant, "I'm as clueless as you. But there's a single difference; I have raked whole of Hogwarts but most of them are not even aware of what had happened to Harry."
"No use crying over spilled beans," Ernie replied who was lurking in a corner, glancing frequently at the stairs and Fat Lady portrait, "we just have to wait and watch. No one has come out from there after that man."
"Which man?" Ginny asked, as her mind started to recall everything that had happened in the past hours.
"The man who was going on around, asking about Blood-Replenishing Potion," Seamus replied, "I wonder who he was."
"Must be one of the Order members," Ernie replied, tapping his foot on the floor.
"I never saw him," Ginny mused and then realisation dawned on her, "WHY DID HE NEEDED BLOOD-REPLNISHINH POTION?" — her voice cracked — "Is h — he all right?" The past hours came rushing in her memories,. Filling her mind with all the horrid details, she had tried to forget.
"Don't know," Seamus replied, though his voice carried a concern tone, "But he was going on around saying that Harry needs Blood-Replenishing Potion. But it doesn't mean that Harry needs it." He added as Ginny started sobbing again.
Ginny turned to the Fat Lady and screeched, "Open the bloody way."
Fat Lady ignored her, behaving as everything was fine, even when others had clamped their hands on their ears, probably in an attempt to block out the noise. Suddenly, the portrait flew open. Ginny jumped with excitement, anticipation, fear and a little happiness, as she trekked towards the portrait hole. But when she saw her Mum standing there, looking angry, she stopped.
"What's with all the commotion?" her Mum demanded, giving a glare which could have easily frozen blood.
"I want to see Harry," Ginny demanded and before her Mum had a chance to reply, she pushed her sideways, nearly pushing her face first on the floor and stormed off inside.
As soon as she walked in the common room, she froze in her tracks. She didn't know what she had excepted, but it wasn't anything like this. Most of the common room wall was blown off and there were several craters of varying sizes on the still standing walls. People were standing around the blown walls, probably guarding the common room from intrusion.
And what disturbed Ginny the most was the injured people. Hospital wings was full up to its capacity but the people resting there weren't very gravely injured. But here the scene was different.
Every corner was filled with injured people, wrapped in bandages and resting on magical stretchers. Some of the Order members were guarding the stairways, blocking anyone from entering the stairways. Many un-graduated and graduated Hogwarts students were tending the injured, while the older members of the community guided them, occasionally tending to the gravely injured. Empty potion flasks and phials were strewn around.
People were groaning and moaning in pain. Blood was splashed everywhere, from the walls to the floor and on the robes of the helpers. Some corners were huddled with crying people, most probably crying over a dead.
So this was why the hospital wings were just accommodating people who were not very gravely injured. Because they were being recommended here for private healing.
So this was the aftereffect of the war. Her parents had said that the aftereffects of the war were very grave, but at that time she hadn't understood. For her if the war was over, everything was all right.
But now standing here in between blood, destruction, broken families she knew what her parents had meant. In one way, it was bad, worse than the period of war. The only thing that was giving her some hope, some energy was the fact that this would not be happening again, ever.
Lost in her thoughts, Ginny forgot about everything. She had thought that she had seen enough blood and pain to last her whole life, but now she knew how wrong she was. It was just, just… horrible…
A warm hand squeezed Ginny shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts. Ginny spun around and saw Luna standing there, looking concerned, weary and yet at the same time attentive.
"Luna," Ginny said, as she came out of her surprise. She hugged her friend and added, "What are you doing here?"
"Helping," Luna answered. A man groaned and Luna turned her head in the direction, from where the noise came. She looked ready to march off, but Ginny caught her by wrist and asked, "Where's Harry? Is he fine?"
Luna stopped, turned around and gave her a quick look.
"He's in one of the boy's dorm."
Saying that Luna hurried off to the man, looking alert. Ginny sighed and turned her head to look at the stairways leading to the boy's dorm. On the entrance stood Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle, their arms crossed over their chest and a weird expression on their face.
Ginny took a step forward, but had to stop because her arm was taken in a vice grip by someone. Ginny spun around, as anger flared in her chest, which was being fueled by her impatience. She had already been unaware about Harry condition for hour or was it hours and she would not let it continue, not if she could start.
But as soon as she faced the person, she blanched for a second. Her resolution crumbled a little, as her Mum face came into her view. She looked angry, no not angry, sad. There was such a weird expression on her face; it was hard to tell what she was feeling. But Ginny had a shrewd idea. Because she had been feeling that kind of jumbled emotions too. But she just couldn't understand why her Mum was feeling this angry.
"Leave my hand, Mum," said Ginny, as she tried to wrench her hand away from her Mum's grasp. It was futile; her Mum's hold was very strong and to top it off, she was feeling exhausted. She had only been running around because of her resolution to see Harry, otherwise she would have been dropped dead on her feet by now.
"Is this the way to talk to your Mum?" her Mum demanded as her gripped tightened on her hand. What was the matter with her Mum? She was behaving unusually angry.
"Okay," Ginny said, "Mum, please leave my hand." She had never in reality said something like that, and neither her Mum had asked her to behave so disturbingly polite.
Her Mum glared at her, her hold on her hand still not loosening. Ginny's patience was dancing at the line of angry outburst.
Time continued to trickle away, whirling in nothingness. And Ginny's patience continued to drain away, making the anger bubble with more ferocity.
"I SAID LEAVE MY HAND, MUM," Ginny shouted and pulled her hand away, nearly pushing her Mum on the floor. Her body was now shaking with anger.
After a brief moment of surprise, her Mum started crying. She had never seen her Mum cry. Maybe four or five times, not counting this year, but it was never like this. Her whole body was shaking with sobs and her breath was hitching. She looked so weak, fragile and unsecured; no one could have said that she was the same woman who killed Bellatrix, You-Know-Who's best lieutenant. Her feet swayed and her knees crashed on the floor with a thump.
Ginny rushed to her Mum and took a fleeting glance around her. No one seemed to care about her Mum's reaction. Maybe it was because every single soul present inside was either injured or healing the injured or guarding something. And they must have seen many reactions like this today, so they didn't bother.
But Ginny had seen this type of reaction from the first time and it was more disturbing because the reaction came from her own Mum. Her Mum had always been composed, though a bit short tempered. But she had never been this weak or either she had never shown that side of her.
"Mum," Ginny said, as she wrapped her arms around her Mum's shoulder, "are you all right?"
Her Mum didn't answer; she didn't even give a sign that acknowledged the fact that she knew about her presence. She just continued to look forward, her eyes staring blankly at some point unknown to everybody as tears rolled out of her eyes.
And then suddenly, she said, without turning her face "You will leave me… just — just like F—Fred. You will leave me too, just like F—Fred, I know. Everybody is leaving me, everybody is leaving me all alone here."
"Mum," Ginny said, as tears bubbled out of her eyes, "No one is going to leave you. We all will be by your side. Always."
"You are lying," her Mum replied, and for the first time looked at Ginny. Her hair was a jumbled mess, her cheeks were stained with tears and her eyes were blood shot red. They seemed to be brimming in the sunlight and it was because of the constant flow of the tears.
"Mum, I'm not lying," said Ginny, as she rubbed her Mum's shoulder.
"You are not," said her Mum. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and a small smile stretched on her face.
"So, where's Fred?" she asked Ginny, as her eyes looked around, looking as she was hoping that he would jump out from a corner.
Ginny didn't reply; she had no reply. Words betrayed her. The innocence of her Mum's words left her dumb. She was in such a shock that she even believed someone, someone who had no control over anything.
"Where's Fred?" her Mum demanded again, more forcefully than before. Ginny still kept quiet, she still had no answer. Fred was all around them, just he wasn't with them; he just didn't have a form. He was inside their heart, trying to cheer them up.
But when Ginny opened her mouth to say these words to her Mum, the words escaped her. Because somewhere in her mind, she was keeping the same hope as of her Mum, that Fred would come. Because all of this living in heart talk was bullshit, absolutely bullshit. And she knew it. It was just to console, not for believing. If dead people were always with us, then why the mourning? Because people too knew, one who dies leaves the world for good. They won't come back, not in their usual form anyway.
So she just kept quiet, letting the tears fall from her eyes.
"Where's Fred?" her Mum demanded again, and now her smile was vanishing. Her voice cracked as she said, "You said to me that you lot won't leave me, then where is Fred, my Fred?"
Her Mum started shaking her, looking quite deranged. Ginny gulped and said, "Because Mum he has already left us."
"No," her Mum barked, looking at her like she was some kind of lunatic.
A girl rushed to their side and produced a small phial from under her robes. She forcefully downed the contents of the phial down her Mum's throat and sighed in relief. Her Mum's expression instantly softened and her breathing which was extremely ragged before, became normal.
"What did you give to my Mum?" asked Ginny, as she saw here Mum's panicked expressions turn to the sad one's.
"Calming Draught," the girl replied, "it's her fourth dose."
Ginny turned to look at the girl, disbelief etched all over her face.
"Fourth Dose?' Ginny asked, "Isn't one dose supposed to work for four to five hours."
"Yes they are supposed to," the girl replied, "but we are running short on every supply. So, from every potion flask, we are pouring out ten to twelve phials. Many people need Calming Draught and St. Mungos hasn't replied to our queries yet. I don't know what they are thinking. We had already lost two people because of the shortage of potion."
"And who are you?" asked Ginny. She was amazed hearing the casualness of her voice when she talked about all of that.
"I am taking it as you are asking me who am I to pass on such judgment," she said and Ginny nodded.
"I was a apprentice at St. Mungos for quite a few weeks before I have to hide," she replied, "I'm a Muggle-born and you know it was a crime in the old regime to be a Muggle-born."
Ginny nodded as her expressions softened a little. The girl looked around eighteen and there was an air around her which told Ginny that the girl knew about what she was doing.
"Now would you move aside?" she asked her, "I have some other patients to take care of."
Ginny nodded and moved aside. The girl had barely taken a step, when a question snaked its way in her mind.
"Where's Harry?" she asked the girl. She stopped, turned around and said, in an amused tone,
"And why should I tell you?"
"I know Harry," replied Ginny hotly, feeling a little prideful of the fact.
"Don't we all?" she replied smugly as she brushed a tress of her black hair away from her face.
"I mean, he knows me too," Ginny said forcefully.
"Likely story," the girl replied, her eyes holding a victorious glint.
"Do you know who am I?" demanded Ginny, her blood boiling.
"Not Merlin, I suppose" the girl said, "Am I right?" She finished with a small laugh, which made Ginny blood burn in anger. The girl was getting over her head and Ginny didn't like the fact, at all.
"Oh no, I'm not Merlin, you see," Ginny said, going tit for tat, "I don't want to fake myself like some people in front of me are obviously doing with fake styles." — the girl expression hardened — "I'm Ginny Weasley. Weasley. Got your brain under your skull now or is it still gone for grazing grass."
"So, what if you are?" she snarled, "Being a Weasley didn't change much?"
"Oh it does actually," Ginny replied, knowing the fact that she was winding the girl, big time, "You know many people only hope to see Harry," — a alarm went off in her head, as she remembered about Harry — "whereas Harry lives with us every summer. He is practically a family member." Ginny didn't even feel a bit guilty dragging Harry's name in the conversation. It just felt right.
The girl huffed and stormed off. The conversation was futile but Ginny felt an odd feeling of cheerfulness, seeing the girl's disgruntled expressions. She was feeling kind of satisfied, very satisfied.
But as soon as she remembered about Harry, she turned around. Her Mum seemed to be doing fine, although she looked extremely sad. It couldn't be helped; the pain was just too much to be suppressed by Calming Draughts.
She hurried off to the stairs, literally slamming into Hestia.
"Easy there," said Hestia, holding Ginny at arm length.
"Ginny," Hestia looked positively surprised, "what are you doing here?"
"Why?" asked Ginny, trying to wriggle out of her hold, "Was I supposed to be somewhere else?"
"No, no," Hestia replied, "it's just that all your family came here with Harry, only you and Bill were the two persons missing. We just thought that you were helping the others in the hospital wing. Neville and some others went there to assist you and Bill. But it looks as you weren't in the hospital wing."
"I was," Ginny replied, "I was looking for Harry. Then Neville came and told me that Harry was in the Gryffindor boy dorm room. So, I came here as soon as I could."
"Harry Potter is up in the dorms," Dedalus said, "Pomfrey is tending him. Lost quite some blood, but he is fine."
Ginny sighed in relief and tried to push Hestia away. Hestia resisted; Ginny snarled.
"Let me go to Harry. I want to make sure myself that he is all right."
Hestia gave her a suspicious look. Ginny glared at her.
"Fine. He is in the seventh year boy's dorm. Don't enter any other dorm; they are accommodating other seriously injured people. Okay?"
"Okay," Ginny replied as she trudged up the stairs, not even looking at the other rooms.
She was soon standing in front of the seventh year dorm rooms. They all looked the same to her and Hestia hadn't told her which of the room was in which Harry was being treated.
Ginny took a step forward, tentatively, her hands shaking with anticipation of what she was going to find. She slowly pushed the first door, opening it just a crack. She glanced inside, hoping to see the familiar mane of red hairs.
But she was met with a scene, she honestly and sincerely hope to forget. On the bed lay a man, his limbs twisted in unusual angles. His whole body was wrapped in bandages, which were stained red. Flasks of blood red potion lined the table and a woman was pouring the content down in the man mouth. Ginny, even when her mind was screaming to turn around, looked at the man with more concentration. The man appeared unconscious and pale, very pale. The potion flasks looked like they were soon depleting, only a couple of them were left and a couple of dozens were empty. No one except the two was in the room.
Suddenly the woman face turned to the door, and she positively beamed, as she saw Ginny. She jumped off from her chair and hurried to the door.
"Have you brought more Blood-Replenishing Potions?" she asked, continuously glancing back at the man. There was no improvement in her condition, none that Ginny could tell anyway.
"No,' Ginny answered warily, "I was looking for my — err… friend."
"Oh," the woman face fell, "Is he all right?"
"What?" Ginny asked, not catching the question. But as the words sunk in her brain, she said, "Yes. He is no immediate danger." Ginny hoped so, she dearly hoped so.
"Good," the woman said, "I hope I could say that for my husband too. He needs immediate hospitalisation, but St. Mungos hasn't replied yet. They are not even sending potions, and his condition is getting worse by the passing second."
"I will see what I can do," Ginny assured the woman.
"Do you know someone who can help me?" the woman asked, suddenly looking hopeful again.
"No," Ginny said, and the woman face fell.
"But I know someone who has that much power to tell people to help you immediately," said Ginny.
"It's not that they are not helping," the woman said, "But the number of injured peoples are sixty to seventy times more than the people who are helping. But they still check on him every fifteen or twenty minutes. That's all I can ask from them. It's all fault of St Mungos."
The woman glanced at her watch and said, "I have to give him Blood-Replenishing Potion."
"Didn't you give him that just five minutes ago?" asked Ginny.
"He is bleeding like hell," the woman replied, "Healers have charmed the bandages to clean themselves until they found the antidote or some kind of counter curse to stop the bleeding."
Hearing this, Ginny was reminded of her Fourth year Christmas. How could she forget it! Her Dad had nearly died and his problem was something like this. But she didn't want to give the woman false hope; what if St Mungos didn't reply at all.
"I hope he gets fine soon," Ginny said and the woman smiled. She hurried off to her husband side.
Ginny closed the door again, giving the couple their privacy. The world had suddenly turned disturbingly calm. It felt like every living being had left earth. The horrors of the war were following her like they were her very own shadows. Every turn she took only shoved her in the way of more disturbing images, more victims of torture. Every time she thought she had seen the extreme, she would find herself face to face with more gruesome sceneries.
Ginny had enough; her mind was scarred enough but the urge to see Harry, confirm from her very own eyes that he was all right was just overwhelming. For him, she would go through all of it.
So she walked toward the second room and pushed it open. Her face was stoic, but her eyes, they were a pool of jumbling emotions. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a blur of red, heading into the room which was situated at the far corner.
As soon as Ginny saw this, she rushed to the door, not caring how much noise she was creating on the way. Finally what felt like running for hours, she stood in front of the door which led to the room where most probably Harry was being tended. Somehow now her body felt like it was leaded. Her hand refused to move and her throat point blankly refused to make any sound. Her eyes were fixed on the door as her mind anticipated what she would come in front of when she would open the door. She just couldn't set a point, because she was sure if she would, it would surely be broken.
But she just couldn't help but wonder, how was Harry? She thought the question again and again, but tried to refrain herself from thinking the answer.
Time continued to trickle away as she stood there, completely still. She just couldn't muster the energy to take a step forward and push the door open. Because the easy task suddenly to her, felt very difficult.
And then the door suddenly opened. Ginny heart missed a beat and her breath hitched, making her choke on her breath.
After the initial surprise, she looked at the person who was standing at the door. The person was Ron. He was looking worse, worst than he had ever looked. Her exposed skin was filled with small scratches, cuts and burns. His eyes were blood shot and puffy and his hairs were signed at various places. His arms seemed to be dangling from his shoulders and his shoulders, they were slumped down. He looked defeated, resigned like he had lost every hope in world…
Ginny stopped her thinking. It was walking on dangerous field but the effect had taken place. Her mind was instantly filled with worries and concern. Ron still looked unresponsive; not even acknowledging her presence.
"Ron," said Ginny, taking the initiative, "Where's Harry?" — the question came out automatically, Ron didn't seem to care — "I mean how is Harry? Is he fine?"
But Ron still didn't answer. He was lost in his own world. Ginny growing impatient, started shaking Ron, vigorously. He didn't seem to care. And suddenly a tear escaped his eye, trailing down his face, slowly.
Ginny heart stopped for a second, only to start beating hastily again. Ginny pushed Ron sideways and entered the room. It was mostly empty. Two beds were occupied; one was by Harry and second was by George. Hermione was sitting beside Harry, stroking his hair. Charlie and Percy sat beside George, who looked unconscious.
Ginny hurried off to George. Even though she had come to see Harry, she just couldn't ignore George. She had lost one of the twin and even thinking of losing the other one, gripped her heart in a vice grip. So she ignored Harry for the time being and sat beside George. Now from such close proximity, he appeared asleep. His face expression was serene, like he didn't give a damn about what had happened. And after losing Fred, she hadn't even thought in her wildest imagination that George would look this peaceful.
"We have given him Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep Potion," answered Charlie, sounding as he knew what was going through Ginny's mind.
"He seems to take it real hard," added Percy. Ginny anger flared a little on hearing Percy voice. She hadn't forgave Percy, not completely anyway. She hadn't forgotten the moment, when Percy absence had made her Mum cry; she hadn't forgotten the harsh words he had said to her Dad.
"Don't we all?" asked Ginny, harshly, "And Fred was his twin, almost like a second soul to him. So he is taking it seriously."
Percy face fell and he started staring at the bed sheet. An odd emotion bubbled in her chest for a second; it surprisingly felt like smugness.
"When will he awake?" Ginny asked Charlie.
"Don't know," he said, "Maybe after three or four hours. It took one and half flagon of Dreamless Potion to get him to sleep."
Silencing surrounded them; silence thick as ice.
Suddenly Charlie said, "How are you taking it?"
Ginny knew what he meant, but she didn't want to answer. Because she didn't herself knew how she was taking it. Fred death had left a mark in her heart, which would never heal, and she was feeling extremely sad and like happiness would never come in her life, in the world. But how she was taking it, she couldn't say for sure.
So, she chose to kept quiet, downing herself in her misery. Time continued to trickle away, but nothing of significant happened. George still looked peacefully asleep, when in reality he would've been broken to his last bone.
A groan came from Ginny's behind. Ginny spun around as she heard Hermione saying, "Harry."
She had completely forgotten about Harry, but now as she looked at his sleeping form, she remembered everything. Why she had roamed every corner of the castle, why she had came to the boy dorms and why she was feeling so worried.
She silently stood up from the bed and walked towards Harry bed. As soon as she came within arm reach of Harry, she stopped. An odd feeling crossed her heart as she saw Harry's head in Hermione's lap. She was stroking his hair and he appeared asleep. The side of his head and his hands were bandaged. Maybe his legs were bandaged too. She had no way of knowing because his legs were hidden under the blanket. She could easily pull off the cover and look for herself, but she just couldn't muster that kind of energy to pull the sheets off. In reality she was scared, scared of what she would find.
So she just stood there, letting the time to trickle away. She just wanted to rush to his side and to hold him tight, never to release him again. But something was stopping her. It could very well be jealousy or it could just be the fear of loosing him. So she just stood there. Some part of her hope that Hermione would see her and would beckon her to take her position. But Hermione seemed to concentrate on the task at hand which according to Ginny was her.
But she still couldn't let herself to go and pull Hermione away. Because Hermione looked genuinely concern over Harry and secondly who was she of Harry? Except the sister of his best mate and ex-girlfriend she was no one to him. She didn't have any right on him, whereas Hermione had every right on him. She was like a sister to him and a very caring sister at that.
The phrase ex-girlfriend was like a thorn in her side, but Ginny couldn't do anything about it. What if Harry had already moved on, found himself a better partner? As much as the thought pained her, it was most probably possible, and Ginny knew and hated the fact. She couldn't even confirm the fact with Hermione. Because she knew if she even dared to bring the subject up now or anytime soon, she won't know what hit her. And in all honesty, Ginny didn't want to ask that question in the first place. She had many things on her mind and mostly all of them were graver than being Harry's girlfriend or not. But still the curiosity wouldn't leave her.
And then suddenly Hermione's head shot up. Ginny at this point realised that she was staring at Hermione with such intensity that it must had made the hairs on her back of the neck stand. She looked at Ginny warily for a few seconds, after which she offered her a sad smile. Ginny returned her smile and took some tentative step towards Harry. She didn't know why she was doing so, but she still did it. For her it was asking for Hermione's permission to be near Harry because in this room only she was the one who had every right on Harry. Other than Hermione, every one of them had lesser right on Harry than her.
So when Hermione didn't show any sign of protest when she came near Harry, Ginny started walking casually toward Harry's bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hands on his legs. As she pressed her hand a little, she could feel the scratchy surface of the bandages scraping her hand from under the blanket.
She glanced up at his face. There were several small marks on his face but mostly it was unscathed. Maybe Madam Pomfrey had tended to the other cuts and spell burns. But the thing that taunted her most was the fact that Harry's head was still in Hermione laps. She knew Hermione was the last person she should be worried who would try to steal Harry from her. But she couldn't help but think that and the fact that Harry wasn't her anymore fuelled the fact.
But she didn't have any choice or say in this matter. Because if she had, she would be in the position where Hermione was now. So she just silently, glancing warily at Harry's head from time to time, inwardly hoping that he would get up and pull his head away from her laps. But it didn't happen. He just lay there, complete still, except the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
Time continued to trickle away but there was no change in the scenario. The scene before Ginny's eyes was the same as it was when she had entered. Harry's head was in Hermione's laps and she was stroking his hair, looking at him with big sad eyes. The scene was nostalgic; the care and concern Hermione was emanating for Harry, was so palpable that they both could've been easily tagged as soul mates.
And as much as Ginny liked the brother-sister relationship between Harry and Hermione, she just couldn't help but to be jealous. Because after Harry and she had started going out, she had thought that she would be the one to console Harry, to take care of Harry in need. But during their short relationship, Harry was always happy. Now looking now at those events, Ginny couldn't help but wonder if the happiness was because of her. But she had no chance of knowing.
More time passed, and as much as Ginny tried to tell herself that it's just a brother-sister relationship, she just couldn't. Because to be honest Ginny had always saw her as competition from the moment she had known Hermione. Given she was her best friend, who understood her, but it didn't reduce the fact that she was jealous of her. The amount of time she spent with Harry, the meals they shared, the jokes they cracked at each other etc, all of this sometime made her cry in the start. And oh… her third year. It was plain torture for her to be near Hermione after those articles were published in the Witch Weekly. How much she had loathed Hermione during those weeks. Finally maybe Hermione had suspected it because she had explained everything to her. She hadn't completely believed her, but she trusted Hermione enough even then to take her words for it.
And now the feeling she had so profusely felt during her third year was back, worse than before if possible. The room seemed to be pressing around her, making her uncomfortable in the present company. Now she wanted nothing better than to go away from here for some time, just to cool her head. But the thought of leaving Harry and Hermione alone, didn't suited her. She knew that there was nothing between them, yet the sense of competition didn't leave her. Ginny glanced around her and sighed in relief when she saw Charlie and Percy. An odd sense of relief washed her over when she knew that she wasn't going to leave Harry and Hermione alone. It was odd, but satisfying and reassuring.
So, she stood up and flashed a sad smile to Charlie. He smiled sadly and turned back to face George. Hermione didn't even look once.
Ginny quietly walked out of the dorm room and from the corner of her eyes, she saw Ron lying on a four-poster. She didn't remember seeing him coming inside. Maybe she was just too busy with other works.
Ginny silently walked down the stairs but suddenly she stopped. The man, who was going on around asking people for Blood-Replenishing Potion saying that he needed them for Harry was walking to a room, three potion flasks cradled in his hands. He looked oddly satisfied and it fuelled Ginny's anger.
"How dare that man use Harry name for nicking potions?" Ginny murmured angrily to herself and strode towards the man. He was about to enter the room, when Ginny clamped her hands on his shoulder and pulled him aside. The man turned around and said impatiently,
"What do you want?"
Ginny's hand twitched, after noticing the harshness in his voice. He was going to pay, big time.
"I remember that," Ginny began smoothly, "you needed those potions for Harry, Harry Potter. And his room is two stairways up. So, what are you doing here?" She added sharply, glaring at the man.
The man visibly shuddered, as his eyes started to sweep around the room, most probably looking for an escape. But Ginny would be damned if he let him get past her.
"Answer me," Ginny demanded, flashing the tip of her wand.
"You want to know," the man spat, "I needed Blood-Replenishing Potion for my son. He is just fifteen but he wanted to fight, fight for him. And now he is gravely injured, and had lost quite some blood. He is in desperate need of blood, but here they seemed to be next than none. If you ask someone, saying that you need it for your son, no one gives a damn about it. Say that you need for Harry Potter some would believe you and share their stock. That's how I got these three flasks and I will be damned if you managed to take them away from me."
"I'm not going to," Ginny snarled, "But do you know how much it pained some people. Be grateful about the fact that you haven't met Ron, otherwise you would have been in a greater need of Blood-Replenishing Potion than your son."
"Its bloody hypocrisy," the man snarled back at her, "First you fight for him and then you get threatened by his friends."
"You bloody fought for yourself," Ginny shouted at the man, "your son fought for a safe future and Harry fought for saving other's bloody arse. He in no way was the reason of the fight, but he was the one who ended it."
"If he had just given himself…"
The man never completed his sentence. Even before Ginny could've pulled her wand out, the man was thrown backwards in the air, his back smashing against the wall with a loud thump.
Ginny looked at the new arrival and saw Ron standing there, red with fury. He was looking quite intimidating and scary. He gathered the potion flask in his hand, gave them to her and said, "Go and give them to the boy." His voice was commanding and it made Ginny follow his order without second guessing.
She quickly strode toward the door, opened it and gave the potion flask to one of the two women sitting inside. She quickly came outside and closed the door behind her.
"WHO THE HELL YOU SUPPOSE YOU ARE?" the man voice came. He sounded resolute, but Ginny could detect the trace of fear in his voice.
Ron didn't answer, but soon a thud followed. It sounded suspiciously like someone had been shoved in the wall and painfully. Realisation dawned on her and Ginny ran to the corner, from where the voice came. Ron stood there looming over the man, who was bleeding from various cuts all around his body.
"RON!" yelled Ginny, when Ron was about to plant one more punch on the man's head, "STOP RIGHT THERE."
Ron turned around looking startled. His eyes met with Ginny eyes for a brief second and he yelled back, "I told you to go away."
"No you didn't," Ginny said, as she pulled her wand out, "Now leave him."
"Do you remember what he said about Harry?" demanded Ron.
"I have ears too Ron," said Ginny, as she tried to wrench him away from the man, "but I have brain too. Do you know how Harry will take it, if you turn this man into a walking dead."
"I — I don't care about what he thinks," said Ron, though the shaking of his voice hinted the opposite, "He doesn't get a say in it. And people like him are better dead."
"No Ron," said Ginny, as she tried with her full might to pull him away from the man, but Ron was just too powerful for her. So, Ginny pulled her wand out, pointed it at him and threatened, "Move away or I will have to stun you."
"Will you…"
"Yes I will," interjected Ginny, "because we have enough people to treat and cure and enough trouble to last a life. I personally didn't fancy increasing the already long list."
Ron grunted, but nevertheless left. Ginny shot the man a dirty look, siphoned some of the blood away and mended some of the cuts and left but not before shooting the man a dirty look.