Chapter 2

Before she opened her eyes, she could already hear the people, smell the grass, feel the magic. Bitter. Sweet. Alive. Hogwarts.

Then she opened her eyes, and took in the sight. The castle, still standing proud and strong in the green Scottish hills, the Groundskeeper's Hut, the Forbidden Forest. In front of the castle, she saw a tent standing by the Black Lake.

Dumbledore's memorial was there, too (although she couldn't see it, she knew it was there). Emptiness burned in her heart, white and cold. All those people who should be there, she thought, and swallowed drily. Then she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She turned, her face white, and pointed her wand at the intruder.

"Hello, Ginny," said a smiling Harry Potter.

Ginny sighed. "Hello."

"Good to see you're back at home," he enthused. "Have you seen your parents yet? Although you do look thin..."

She turned around and ran: his voice was too much to bear. Ginny recalled being in love with him once. Once she'd admired him, adored him like there was no other. But today, no, it simply hurt too much to even look him in the eye (it felt unreal to know that she had kissed him, to know that she had lain in his arms and cried when he had broken up with her).

Ginny Weasley knew tears very well. And she'd thought she knew love when she had been with him. But the year in France had put things into perspective. She was a solitary person. Grief needed to be dealt with in some other way (she could never be Ron and Hermione, who had fallen into each other's embraces and beds right after the Battle of Hogwarts and never quite emerged).

Her steps slowed gradually, her breathing laboured. Despite being in good physical condition due to her work with Vianne's vines, she was out of breath. Surely, the lack of food and excess of wine were to blame, but Ginny couldn't bring herself to care. What did it matter, after all?

Shifting to a more leisurely stride, she walked over to the tent. Seating herself in the back, she decided to cast a Notice-Me-Not spell, just for good measure.

People were far too cheerful for her taste, and she didn't want to repeat encounters like the one with Harry. Everyone around her was dressed in their best robes (they looked amazing, she mused without envy, although it seemed out of place to flaunt one's assets on a day such as this). People were chatting happily, smiles on their faces, champagne in their hands and cake smears around their mouths.

Disgusting, Ginny thought as minute after minute ticked away. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Kingsley stepped up to the front and pointed a Sonorus at his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. A year has come to a close. One year since we defeated Voldemort and his Death Eaters, since the last of that scum was finally conquered. We in the Ministry have since worked to clear the English Wizarding world from this evil. We worked relentlessly, day and night, to ensure continued public safety from Voldemort's terrorists. I am proud to announce that we have succeeded. Mostly thanks to Honorary Head Auror Harry James Potter"

Thunderous applause started in the tent, growing louder and louder.

"Honorary Head Auror Harry James Potter, assisted by his loyal friends Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Weasley née Granger, we have succeeded so far..."

While the audience continued to clap and cheer, Ginny gathered her dress around her and silently left, her face an impenetrable white mask.

And what of the dead, what of the fallen? What of all those she was grieving for, all those who'd lost their lives? No, it was just sunshine and brightness and propaganda.

"Why did I even bother to come?" Ginny almost shouted but dropped her voice to a whisper when she realized that the festive people inside the tent would hear her cry of anguish.

"Yes, I wondered that too. You look like a Kneazle dragged you from your deathbed," someone drawled.