I stared in the mirror in my bedroom, wondering why on Earth I'd let my mother and Professor Snape talk me into this.
It was November. And Harry was marrying Hermione today.
I hadn't visited my family since my arrival at Hogwarts, with needing to catch up on brewing. But, with our weekly Floo calls and the almost daily owls from my mother, my father, and at least one of my brothers, it felt as though I was not too far away from home. Even Fleur wrote to me regularly. I had suspected at first it was merely a way to improve her written English skills, but over time and a dozen or so letters, she and I finally seemed to develop a friendship, though I doubted we would ever be very close. She and I were so different in so many things in life, even before my accident.
In the last few weeks, however, I'd received no less than eight owls daily from my family requesting that I attend the ceremony. "Closure" is what my mother called it. "A family event" is what Ron called the affair, Merlin love his daft brain. Bill's eloquent notes said it would be "a needed and welcome end to a sad chapter of my life."
But it was Professor Snape's insistence, along with my mother's now daily Floo calls, that caused me to finally give in. He all but marched into my office two weeks ago with his invitation, already marked with a "plus one" designation, and said, "If I have to go through with this slow form of torture, then I will require your presence with me." With that, he stormed out, leaving me sputtering with unsaid words. That, and my mother's boundless persistence, finally made me accept the inevitable.
Professor Snape had sent me to Madam Malkin's the previous weekend to find new dress robes when he realized my only set was second hand and was last worn at my graduation from Hogwarts. With Madam Malkin's keen eye, I found a set of silk, mint green robes that made me feel very grown up. I knew I needed that reinforcement for the dreaded day, and apparently Professor Snape had sensed that as well. Not for the first time, I was thankful for the luxuries he had decided to afford me.
In the mirror before me, thirty minutes before we were due to arrive at Grimmauld Place for the small ceremony, I looked at the young woman staring back at me in the mirror. I'd applied make-up, something I rarely did but felt like I needed today. My hair was gathered low on my neck in a series of interwoven braids. My dress, delivered at the last minute this morning by five rather put out looking barn owls, made me feel like I could take on the day, as long as I had Professor Snape standing with me.
We'd become closer in the last month, since the day I forgave him and told him I'd let go of my anger towards him. I felt I could speak my mind to him, and often I did. I never knew how he would take my words. I'd always had this mind set of him as a severe man devoid of a real personality. Little by little, he let me in to see the person he was underneath. He was right when he described himself during my interview. He was not the easiest person to converse with, until you figured out how to converse with him. Then, you could see glimmers of potential underneath it all, a shy laugh and smile he'd give when I said something out of turn, a kind soft word when something set off one of my buttons and he sensed I was struggling with needing to escape to my room and my Little Bag.
I heard a distant knock along with the slight trilling of my wards.
It was time to go, whether I was ready or not.
I opened the door and saw Professor Snape dressed in his own dark dress robes. They strongly resembled his teaching robes down to the severity of the cut and the length of the sleeves, but the wool was richer and heavier.
I smiled up at him, trying very hard not to be ill with the thought of where we were going.
"Are you ready?" he asked, brushing some invisible lint off of his travelling cloak as he scanned my appearance.
"Almost," I said. "I actually need your help with something, sir."
"And what would that be?"
I sighed and blushed despite myself. "I need you to cast a Concealment Charm on my shoulder. There's a group scars there that the dress doesn't cover."
He looked at me with a little irritation. "Didn't Professor Flitwick teach you those your third year?" he asked with mild contempt.
"Yes, sir, he did. However, my wand will no longer cast them for obvious reasons," I said, a little exasperated.
"Of course, Miss Weasley. I wasn't thinking," he said. He laid his cloak across my desk and pulled his wand from his sleeve. "Where are these scars?"
"The left side of my back, midway between my neck and the tip of my shoulder. You'll see them," I said, tensing a little. His sharp intake of breath when he did broke through the silence of the room.
"Who did this to you?" he hissed. I could feel the heat of his hand over my skin, though he was very careful not to touch me.
"Alecto Carrow," I said, closing my eyes against the memories.
"How many times did she use the Cruciatus curse on you, Miss Weasley?" he asked softly.
I bit my lip and stifled the cry that threatened to leave my lips when the memory of that night came back to me full force. "Ten. It was the night you found out that I had recalled Dumbledore's Army and that we were meeting again in the Room of Requirement."
He placed his hands on my shoulders. The comforting warmth contrasted sharply with the coolness of the room, making me tremble.
"Azkaban was too good for her and her brother, Miss Weasley. I'm very sorry," he said, his voice almost inaudible.
"I know, sir," I said. "That's why you are already forgiven. As are they," I added.
His hands squeezed my shoulders tightly when I spoke those last words, making me wish I could see his face. "Why them?" he asked harshly.
"Because it's no use to be angry with the dead, for one," I said. "It's time to let go of my anger, so why not forgive? Isn't that the reason I'm going to the wedding, after all? To let go and move on?"
He sniffed and enigmatically as ever simply said, "Perhaps."
My skin tingled as he cast the charm. It spread over the small starburst scars that made my shoulder look almost pockmarked in the light. When I turned back around, his back was to me as he gathered his cloak and replaced his wand in his sleeve.
"Are you ready now that I've attended to your feminine wiles?" he asked before he turned back around to face me.
"Yes, I am," I said, retrieving my cloak from the hanger behind my desk. I saw a picture of Fred waving to me, and impulsively I waved back to him.
"Ginny?" Professor Snape asked. I was startled by him using my given name, something he had never done in my entire life.
"Sir?" I answered as I turned, peering at his face, which was as blank and bleak as ever.
"If I asked you to do something, would you do it?" His eyes lost their dull sheen momentarily as he looked down at me, a brief fire flashing. But then he blinked, and his eyes were dull, black pools once more.
"I would try," I said, as honestly as I could.
"Will you stop using the contents of the bag in your room on yourself?"
I drew in a deep breath through my nose. "What if I can't?" I asked. It was hard for me to imagine ever not doing it, it had become part of my life for so long.
"Will you let me help you if you can't?" he said.
I looked at the fire in the hearth while my mind raced with thoughts. My family had always danced around the subject of my "little problem", except for George of course, but that was done in a mocking jest. Even at St. Mungo's, the Healers had talked around the problem and taken for granted that it would stop, since I wasn't doing it there. I didn't have the tools to stop – I only had the tools to continue, stowed away in my bag in my room.
"But, what if-"
"You can, Miss Weasley," he said, speaking in that soft and gentle voice that made my stomach flip and my heart ache. "You are stronger than you have ever realized. More than anyone has ever realized."
I sighed, trying very hard not to cry. "I'll try," I said. "That's all I can promise."
"Then that's enough," he said. He led me back to his office, where the Floo had been connected to the one in Grimmauld Place. "Are you ready?" he asked.
"No," I admitted. "But let's go anyway."
He smirked and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire. "Ladies first," he said with mock solemnity.
I gathered my skirts and stepped in. "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," I said, and myself spin like a top until my feet touched the ground as I was launched out of the fireplace and into the kitchen at Harry's home.
"Ginny!" my mother's voice called out to me from the far side of the kitchen.
I looked around and couldn't help but smile.
Molly Weasley was completely in her element. There was food literally on every surface that could hold it. I hadn't realized Harry had asked her to cook for the event, though she'd so enjoyed preparing for Bill and Fleur's wedding that in hindsight it shouldn't have surprised me.
Mum took off her lacy white apron, revealing that she had dressed in her best bright magenta dress robes. She looked like she should have been the parent of the bride or groom, though she was, really, for both Harry and Hermione. Hermione had not yet been able to locate her parents after the war – the Confundus had misfired at some point and the last time I'd spoken with her civilly, she thought they could be in Austria instead of Australia, but could not trace them under the alias she'd given them. They were both orphans now, of sorts, adopted into our family.
Family indeed. They would be my family now, whether I was ready for it or not. My father would be giving Hermione away, and Ron would be Harry's best man.
Mum squeezed me in a tight, smothering embrace just as I heard the whirling sound of Professor Snape Flooing in behind me.
"Severus!" she said, calling out to him from over my shoulder. Mum let me go and walked over to give him a hug as well. He looked impossibly uncomfortable when she finally released him, though he gave her his customary gracious bow.
My parents were, and would always be, the kind of people who always wanted to see and believe the good in others. They were one of the first to welcome him back after Harry divulged the contents of the memories Professor Snape gave to him. The memories from the Pensieve, as well as specific letters sent to key Ministry Officials, including my father, from Professor Dumbledore with instructions to open them only after the end of the war were key in his exoneration and eventual celebration as a hero. My father was the first one to bring forth his letter and testify while Professor Snape was recovering at St. Mungo's.
"Oh, Severus, thank you for convincing Ginny to come," mother said, wiping her eyes a little before she turned to look at me again. "I know how hard it is for you dear, but you needed to be here."
I nodded, until I saw Professor Snape frown at me out of the corner of my eye. I spoke up. "I know, Mum. I think I understand why, now. I didn't before."
"Ginny!" I heard my father's happy voice behind me, and I turned around for a hug. "Good for you," he whispered in my ear before he let me go to shake Professor Snape's hand.
"Arthur," the Professor said.
"Thank you, Severus," my dad said. Professor Snape just nodded slightly and returned his eyes to me.
"Why don't you take a place out by the stairs? It should start soon. They're going to have the ceremony on the first floor landing, while we watch below," Mum said while casting Stasis Charms on the food.
"What about her Highness," I said, thinking of the portrait of Mrs. Black that was stuck there with a Permanent Sticking Charm.
My father grinned. "Hermione found a Muggle alternative to the Charm."
"What's that?" Professor Snape asked curiously.
"Muggle machinery called a 'chainsaw'. She simply removed the wall and built a new one. And she gave me the chainsaw to keep. Marvelous contraption, even though it doesn't have a plug," Dad said proudly.
That made the Professor laugh out loud. I found out what a chainsaw was, later, and laughed myself when he told me what she must have done.
The three of us walked out to the entrance hall. It was to be a small ceremony, mostly friends of school as well as some friends of theirs from their perspective offices at the Ministry. I smiled and waved at Neville, Luna, and Lee who had already taken spots closer to the foot of the stairs. Professor Snape steered me to the back and away from most of the crowd, for which I was grateful. Before we could get there I felt a hand on my elbow. Looking up, I met a pair of bottle green eyes that were once as familiar to me as my own.
"Ginny, can I speak with you alone for a moment?" Harry asked.
I looked back to Professor Snape, who frowned but nodded.
Harry led me to the sitting room that still held the Black Family Tree. Hermione was there, waiting for us. She looked as beautiful as she did the night of the Yule Ball in her ivory, velvet robes. I stiffened until I felt a dark presence behind me, and I knew Professor Snape had followed us and was standing with me.
Harry looked up at him. "We wanted to speak to Ginny alone, Mr. Snape," he said.
"Two against one is hardly a fair equation, Mr. Potter, even if it is your wedding day," the Professor said dryly.
Harry nodded. "I guess you're right."
"What do you want, Harry?" I asked, finding my voice.
"We wanted –" Harry looked back to Hermione, who stood forward and took his hand.
"We wanted to make sure you were okay, Ginny," Hermione said, ever assertive in her tone. "And I wanted to make sure that you didn't hate us." She looked at Harry, and when she looked back at me she had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry that you've been so hurt. I know things will never be as it was between us, and that we may never get to be friends again like we were. I'm not sorry that I fell in love with Harry and him with me," she said, looking back at Harry and smiling, "But I deeply regret what happened to you afterwards. I think we could have done a better job of taking care of you and making sure you were okay. I'm sorry for that, Ginny."
"As am I," said Harry, grabbing my hand with his free one.
I knew I had a choice to make. I could either back into my shell, as I wanted to, or I could choose to be my parent's daughter and love.
I leaned back slightly, just enough to feel the Professor's warmth. "I forgive you," I said.
Hermione took my other hand in her own and smiled as she squeezed it.
She had been right, of course. It never would be the same between us, as it had been when Harry was mine and we were all best friends in school. But, at least for now, the past was behind us.
"If you aren't all done with this idiotically touching scene, I believe you may make yourself late to your own wedding," Professor Snape said. I couldn't see him roll his eyes and sneer, but I knew it was exactly what he was doing as he watched us.
Harry frowned at him as he let go of my hand. "Thanks, sir, as always." He looked at Hermione. "Ready?"
"Yes," she said, grinning as she Apparated out of the room.
"Your mother would slap both of us if she knew we'd seen each other before we hand fasted," Harry explained.
"That she would," I said. Professor Snape led me out of the room, to the back of the small crowd where we were going to stand before. I felt his hand sit lightly on my waist as music began to fill the entryway.
"Bravo," he whispered into my ear.
I nodded, as there really was nothing more to say.
I took a deep breath and a leap of faith that night when I got back to my room at Hogwarts, and Vanished my Little Bag.
And though I continue to struggle with the need to do so, I have never made another one.