Author's Note: Please reread this chapter! My original author's note was not posted for some reason. It said something along the lines of how I had stayed up til 1 AM finishing this chapter, and I just had to post it, or I wouldn't. I knew it would be riddled with errors, and I had plans to go back and correct them.
I have fleshed out a few key parts. Take a look.
...
She hasn't come back to your bed since that night. Since the night you took something from her that you weren't quite sure she was ready to give. The dark circles beneath her eyes return.
So you sit there at the kitchen table as Mrs. Weasley bustles about trying to fix everyone's favorite breakfast; trying to distract herself from the fact that she no longer has to make eggs and soldiers. You push the porridge around with your spoon, cradling your exhausted head in your free hand. You haven't slept through the night since she was last there, and you can't figure out how to rinse away her blood from your sheets.
Or the dead's blood from your hands.
The porridge tastes like ash in your mouth.
"Post's come," you hear Ron say, as you stare down into your bowl. Your best mate slaps a few errant letters in front of you, and you sort through them quietly. Another inquiry for an interview from The Prophet and a letter from Neville among the stack.
After setting the letter from the Daily Prophet on fire (which earns you a rare smile from Mrs. Weasley), you decide you'll get around to reading Neville's letter some other time. Besides, your eyes are too heavy to read it now. But those eyes can still chance a quick glance over to Ginny, who's reading a letter of her own. A letter covered in distinctly male handwriting. And you notice she's actually got a sizable stack of post sitting in front of her. Letters. Personal letters.
There's a smile at the corner of her lips as her eyes skim down the blasted piece of parchment. Jealousy rises within you, and it clenches your fists and tightens your jaw. Who was making her smile? You haven't seen a trace of a grin on her tragically beautiful face since before the battle.
Who didn't know that Ginny Weasley was yours?
Just because you'd broken up with her didn't mean you didn't care about her; dream about her; love her.
There it was again. That word. That word just kept popping into your mind. Kept coming to the tip of your tongue before you swallowed it back down, burning down your throat. But, now it seems like you've come to a tipping point, because you're standing up, ready to snatch away the letter that was pulling Ginny farther from you, and demand she tell you something.
Tell you how she really feels. Godric, did she regret what you shared? Was there really nothing left of her broken heart for you?
"What do you say Harry?" comes Ron's voice to your right. And suddenly you realize that you are indeed standing and actually turned toward the redheaded girl at the table. Your eyes find hers, and Ginny is sending you a warning look. In your own tired frustration, you send her one right back.
With a sigh you turn towards Ron, "Sorry?" you ask letting it lie. You sit back down, but not before reaching for the butter hoping to cover your odd behavior.
Ron shoots you a curious look but thankfully moves on, "The Leaky Cauldron? Do you want to go?" Now you're really confused.
"Now?" you mumble, picking up your spoon and going back to pushing around your breakfast.
Ron just shakes his head, a patient look on his face. You hate it when he looks at you like that. "Didn't you read your letter from Neville?" Your friend asks you as he digs through your stack of envelopes and plucks out the familiar handwriting.
You take it and open it.
"Looks like we all got one," Ron adds with a mouth full of food, gesturing with a biscuit down the table to Ginny. Who was still transfixed in her letter. Without looking away from the paper, Ginny picks up her matching envelope, waving it for you to see unenthusiastically.
"He's invited all of us Hogwarts students for drinks at the The Leaky Cauldron this coming Friday. Said something about it being good for us all to get together before the summer ends and we all go our separate ways. Might not hurt?" Ron offers, a concerned look in his eyes.
You sigh, considering the idea. But you're not sure how many more worried eyes on you, you can stand. Ron and Hermione are great. Incredible actually. They are really the only one's who could truly understand what you'd been through this past year. But now they had each other, and their own wounds to heal. And if Hermione offered to help you unpack your belongings into No. 12 Grimmauld Place one more time you might scream.
"I'll go," comes a musical voice from down the table, and you and Ron turn to the surprising sound of Ginny actually talking. She doesn't look at you, only at her brother.
"Really?" Ron asks her surprised. A look of relief on his face. It was a family affair, worrying about Ginny. Unfortunately you don't share his excitement. He hasn't been watching her like you have. He doesn't know that this change came after a particular letter.
"Sure, I could use a change of scenery," Ginny answers, her gaze catching yours for a moment, and you can't keep the tension from your face. What was she trying to do to you?
"Well it's settled then," Ron says contentedly, tucking into his cereal. But nothing feels settled to you.
You look over at Ginny one last time, and she looks back at you. One of her red eyebrows arched in challenge. Your gaze flicks down to the letter in her hands, an obvious question. Her only answer is a prim look on her face accompanying a small shrug of her shoulders. She gets up from the table with a quick, "I'm finished," gathering her mail and heading up the stairs. Her food lay on her plate, uneaten.
...
So Friday evening finally finds you, Hermione, Ron and Ginny all doing a solemn march down Diagon Alley towards the familiar Leaky Cauldron. It was an odd feeling. This should be a happy affair, but none of you have been able to muster a smile since the four of you met up at the Burrow to apparate outside Diagon Alley. An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air.
You all grow particularly tense as you walk past the closed Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. And you can't help but notice Ginny's gaze lingering on the solitary lit window above the shop, where George was living. He'd been keeping to himself these days. Not coming to the Burrow for meals. Avoiding the world. Mrs. Weasley had gone over there bringing George some food from time to time, but she often came back with watery eyes. Retreating to her bedroom for a long while.
Going tonight had been a terrible idea.
You've all stopped walking without realizing it. Eyes looking up at the once vibrant shop, which held an eerie chill without its lights coloring the street, transfixed with sorrow. You think you might be sick. These places that used to bring you such joy, such comfort, now only serving as ghostly reminders.
"Come on guys," Ron says, his voice holding more courage than you've ever heard. And he wraps a secure arm around his younger sister who's holding Hermione's hand, and places a steadying hand on your shoulder. Pushing you forward. Saving your skin. And in that moment you are struck with the strength he is showing, knowing that he is bearing you all on his back.
You give Ron a nod that you hope relates everything you mean it to. With a sad smile from his freckled face, he guides you all forward, and to the door of The Leaky Cauldron.
...
You're surprised by how at ease you feel with these people. These students, who fought by your side. You've shaken hands and embraced, and smiled with the lot of them. You were all bonded in a way that was impossible to explain.
Neville greets you all immediately. He is, "Just so glad you all made it. I just thought we earned a drink, you know?" he smiles. Standing taller than he ever did in your years at Hogwarts.
You talked about the war, sure. But for some reason it wasn't so hard when a classmate just chuckled, and swapped you war story for theirs. Toasts were toasted, glasses were clinked, and those lost were remembered. And you thought you might actually be healing some how. Neville stuck close to your side most the night, and you were thankful for it.
But Ginny did not. That was the one thing needling you. She'd worn a dress tonight. She looked like a summer's day. She looked alive. And she spent all her time just beyond your reach. You watched her all night from the corner of your eye. Cursing the boys that were making her smile. Why wouldn't she let you do that for her?
After you and Neville settled in a booth, Ron and Hermione come and find you.
"We're going to go see George," Ron tells you, his arm around a smiling Hermione. You make plans to meet up back here so you can all head back to the Burrow together, and they wave off. You'll let Ginny know, you promise. She's still talking to Dean and Seamus by the bar. You shake your head and toss back the rest of your firewhiskey.
Neville does his part to distract you. You talk about what your lives will look like come autumn. You and Ron in Auror training, Neville starting a herbology research internship in Portugal. You find yourself content as the happy chatter of friends fills The Leaky Cauldron.
"Harry?" comes the voice that calls to you in your dreams. Neville stops mid-sentence as you both turn to see Ginny Weasley standing at your booth. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her long red hair draped over her shoulder.
"Yeah," you answer, as she captivates your full attention.
"Where's Ron?" Ginny asks, and you can't help but notice that she's swaying ever so slightly. Neville shoots you a concerned look.
"He and Hermione went to visit George," you answer, eyeing her keenly.
"Oh, hmm," Ginny answers looking curiously at the drink in her hand. "Can I sit with you, Harry?" she asks and you swear you hear the hidden nervous edge in her tone. "I'm just feeling funny and I..." she trails off, and she's really starting to sway.
"Ginny, how many drinks have you had tonight?" you ask her cautiously, rising from your seat to steady her.
With your hands on her shoulders, she looks up at you. "This is my only one," she tells you earnestly, handing you her mug of butterbeer. You take the glass, and swirl the orange tinted liquid. Half a butterbeer shouldn't be having this kind of effect on her.
Neville's standing now, taking the butterbeer from your hand and sniffing it. "This is spiked with something," he tells you, and you see red. Your wand is in your hand, and you don't remember reaching for it.
"Harry," Ginny tells you bracing herself with hands on your chest, needing the support to stay still. "I feel so strange. I don't quite feel in control of myself," she tells you and her worry is evident now. Yes, Ginny was definitely under the influence of something.
"Take her," you order Neville, handing over the swaying girl, and taking the tainted mug in your hand. You were going to find the bastard who dared to try and take advantage of Ginny Weasley.
"Harry wait," comes Ginny's voice from behind you, and her small hand is closed around your arm. Turning back to her coming more naturally to your body than breathing. Her light brown eyes nervous and unsure as she looks up at you. "Please don't leave, Harry. I don't want to be away from you," she confesses shakily, and Merlin, you've been dying to hear those words for months now. Her hands are running up your chest, and gripping your shirt. She's holding herself so close to you that your mind can't help but to fly back to memories of the last time she was in your arms.
You take a breath to steady yourself. With a soothing nod, you step away from her. "Stay with Neville," you tell her, forcing gentility into your tone so the request wouldn't come across as the order that it was. "I'll be right back," you promise, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear and you leave while you still have the will.
With determination you head straight for the last people you saw her with.
"What is this?" you demand, shoving the half empty mug of butterbeer in front of Dean and Seamus. They look at you like you're crazy, and your blood boils hotter. "What did you put in Ginny's drink? She's acting like she's knackered, but she swears this is her only drink. I know it's spiked. What is it?" you demand. Your fist white knuckled around your wand.
The pair exchange a look before Dean answers, "Harry, we would never do that kind of thing to anyone. I hope you know that." And you do. You lived with these boys for six years. You may not have always agreed with them, but you knew their character. The testosterone humming through your body starts to slow. You nod, lowering your wand.
"I wondered if something dodgy had happened," Seamus tells you cryptically. You give him a questioning look and he continues, "We'd noticed these two slimy looking wizards kind of corner Ginny after she came out of the loo. They weren't exactly doing anything wrong, but we just had a bad feeling about them. So we, uh, extracted her from the situation. They must have slipped something into her glass." The matching livid expressions adorning the boys faces was all the proof you needed to know that Dean and Seamus were telling the truth.
"Are they still here?" you ask quickly. Your eyes sweeping the pub for anyone you didn't recognize.
"No, they left a few minutes after we pulled Ginny away from them," Dean explains gesturing to the front door, and you take off at a run. Maybe the gits were lingering around outside. You push out of the pub, your eyes scanning the empty street. A second later Dean and Seamus are beside you. Wands ready.
"They're long gone," you tell them flatly. Which is a shame, because you were really in the mood to hex someone.
The door to the Leaky Cauldron opens and shuts again, and the three of you turn back to see Neville practically carrying a very inebriated Ginny Weasley. "She's getting worse," he tells you, an overwhelmed look on his face.
"Hi boys," she purrs, giving you all a seductive smirk.
You turn an incredulous eye on Neville, who just shrugs helplessly. "She's becoming a lot more...amorous," Neville tells you, and you know he's choosing his words carefully.
Something needs to be done. "Alright," you start, letting a plan formulate in your head. "Okay, let's get her to George's. Ron and Hermione are there, and then we can take her to St. Mungo's." Neville nods in agreement. "Dean, you and Seamus ask around the pub to see if anyone recognized those wizards, or if they noticed where they went," you tell them, and they head back in.
"Come here," you tell the redheaded girl, who had been snuggling herself against Neville's rigid shoulder, and pull her to you. Handing Neville the offensive mug, you ask him to transfigure it into a vial.
"I've missed you Harry," Ginny whispers in your ear, kissing your neck before you can stop her. She was going to kill you in the morning.
"Sure," you dismiss the affectionate gesture.
"No, I mean it," she defends, stroking your cheek. You grab her hand stopping her from doing something she'd later regret. But instead of halting her, you've effectively pulled her even closer to you. The look she's giving you renders you defenseless. "Harry, I thought about you every day while you were gone," she tells you, her breath against your lips. You shut your eyes against her admission, because your heart is breaking and bursting at the same time, as Ginny tells you all the things you've been dying to hear. And you can't believe any of it.
Now, this was the worst kind of torture you've ever experienced.
"Come on, Ginny," Neville cuts through, pulling her arm around his neck, and freeing you from your own personal hell. "Let's go visit your family," he tells her, and she follows him without protest.
So you and Neville make your way down Diagon Alley, passing Ginny off between the two of you as she stumbles along, punch drunk. You're really worried now, and if it was just you and Ginny, she would be over your shoulder, and you would be sprinting the rest of the way towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"Oh, Neville!" She slurs as she hangs around your friend's neck. And even though it's only Neville, you don't like it one bit. Neville smiles down nervously at the inebriated girl, before shooting a look at you. His eyebrows raised in concern. You pick up the pace.
"Come on, Ginny. We're almost there," Neville urges her forward gently.
Ginny just giggles, "You're such a sweet boy Neville. You're going to make some woman really happy some day..."
"Thanks Ginny," Neville appeases, half carrying her slight form.
"Come on you two," you surl at them. You just can't catch a break. You're going to break your neck trying to protect Ginny Weasley, and damn it, she doesn't even care.
"Oh Harry, you're always so serious now," Ginny tells you, with a stabbing roll of her amber eyes. "Remember when you used to be funny? You used to make me laugh all the time." And now you roll your eyes. "Do you think any of us will ever laugh again?" she asks somberly, and this causes the three of you to stiffen. When was the last time you laughed? Not just to appease a concerned eye. Genuinely laughed. Ages, it felt like. You run a hard hand through your already tousled hair. And you wonder if life would ever be normal again.
"I have a strong urge to kiss someone right now...I can't stop this..." you hear Ginny say suddenly, and she is starting to sound scared. That's enough, you think, and grab her away from a very overwhelmed Neville. As you pull her towards you her lips come to yours, and she's kissing you. You kiss her right back. If Ginny Weasley was going to drunkenly kiss anyone tonight, Merlin, it was going to be you.
You break apart, and her breathing is labored. You might have been trying to prove a point...
"Got that out of your system then?" You ask her more sharply than you should, your voice lower than usual. Ginny nods her head, as she focuses on catching her breath. Neville is watching you two, surprised at the intimacy you seem to naturally share.
Ginny seems to come back to herself for a moment and answers, "Yes...I think I have. That was a little frightening. I was going to kiss someone, no matter who it was. It felt like I had no choice. Harry..." And she looks up at you terrified. The small moment of clarity seeming to be sobering her quickly. This potion was becoming more and more sinister the longer it stayed in her system. You pull her against your chest and hold her to you. She's shaking. You suddenly find the idea of killing someone a lot less repulsive than you did just months ago.
She clings to you, her small hands begging you to protect her. "It's okay. I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise," you whisper thickly into her red hair.
You finally make it to the door of the apartment above Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and you are now carrying Ginny completely in your arms. You're steeling yourself against the kisses she's been placing on your neck. Neville knocks quickly, and the door is pulled open by Ron.
"Hey guys. What's wrong with Ginny?" Ron asks, immediately noticing Ginny's odd behavior and the concerned looks on your faces.
"Ron!" Ginny exclaims, suddenly noticing her brother. She lets go of you and reaches for a very startled Ron. You take a step back, keeping Ron out of Ginny's reach.
"Her drink was spiked," you explain to your bewildered friend. Neville, thankfully, picks up telling the story, as you try and keep Ginny frk kissing her brother.
"Come on, let's get her upstairs." Ron tells you, as you struggle with Ginny who is working the top button of your shirt open. In your exasperation, you stoop down and throw her over your shoulder.
You enter the living room to see Hermione sitting with George in the livingroom. It strikes you that you haven't seen George since Fred's funeral. His eyes are tired and seem almost hollow. He reminds you of Ginny.
"Hi George," you greet him with an awkward wave.
"George?!" Ginny exclaims excitedly, starting to struggle out of your arms.
"What's happened to Ginny?" he's asking you standing from his chair. He looks thinner. You try to answer but, you have to focus on keeping Ginny from leaping onto her other brother. Ron instead explains the situation, as you pin Ginny's arms and hold her still against your chest.
This causes Ginny to change her tactics and she starts swaying her hips against yours. You can't catch a break.
"There's got to be some sort of love potion in this," you hear George say. You watch him examine the flask.
"She needs to go to St. Mungo's to get an antidote." Hermione adds, as she takes the vial from George, sniffing it. You have to tighten your grip on Ginny's arms. She is surprisingly strong for being so small.
"That'll take too long. I can make the antidote down in the workshop," George offers, and you're not the only one who is surprised. "I know I can do it. I just haven't been down there since..."
Ron and Hermione exchange glances. "I can help you," Hermione offers eagerly.
"Yeah, whatever you need me to do," Ron adds.
A new energy seems to come to George. "Alright, I'll need about twenty minutes to brew. You were smart in keeping the drink. I can extract the potion and use it to make the antidote. Neville, you're the herbology nut, any chance you can get me some dittany extract? That's the only ingredient I don't have," George asks, the light slowly returning to his eyes.
"I've actually got some growing in my Gran's garden. I can be back in ten minutes with it," Neville offers.
"Perfect," George agrees, and Neville heads out. "Okay, Hermione I'll need you to do the slicing and grinding, and Ron, just do whatever I tell you to," George finishes, turning with Hermione and Ron to head down to the workshop in the back of the store.
"Wait!" You call after them. Had they forgotten that they were leaving you alone with their...altered baby sister. They turn back and watch you as you struggle to keep Ginny still. "Shouldn't someone else stay with her?"
"Harry, you're the only person here she's not going to regret kissing in the morning," George tells you earnestly.
"I wouldn't be so sure," you mutter under your breath.
"We trust you," Ron tells you, and you think they really shouldn't. You've been wrecking this girl since the moment you left to find Voldemort. But you can't tell them that. You watch as their backs disappear down the stairs that lead to the shop, leaving you alone with Ginny.
"Ginny?" you ask her cautiously. She'd been rather tame for the last few minutes.
"Hmm?" she answers sleepily.
"I'm going to let you go now," you tell her, loosening your grip on her arms.
"Okay," she tells you, turning and resting her head on your shoulder. "I'm so tired..." she yawns, and you feel her body start to go limp. You immediately scoop her back up into your arms. This was not good.
"Uh, George!" you call down the stairs, "She's getting really drowsy."
"Don't let her fall asleep!" He yells back. "We're brewing as quickly as we can." You can hear the sound of a bubbling cauldron, and the murmur of Hermione and Ron's voices.
Excellent, you look down at the girl in your arms, who is cuddling herself against you.
"Ginny wake up," you plead shaking her. But she doesn't open her eyes. "Come on, Gin," you shake her again desperately as her head starts to loll back. Your eyes look around the apartment for an idea. Then it strikes you, and you take off toward the bathroom. Flipping on the cold water of the shower you deposit Ginny in the tub, letting the icy liquid do it's job.
"Ah! Harry!" Ginny cries, jerking awake in surprise. You feel a woosh of air leave your lungs. You'd been holding your breath.
"Harry stop the water. I want to sleep," Ginny whines groggily, trying to turn away from the stream.
"No, no, no!" You argue, as she rests her head on the ledge of the tub, her eyes closing once more. "Wake up, Ginny," you demand, climbing into the tub with her. Shaking her awake again.
"Why?" she argues, trying to push your hands away.
"Ginny, I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me? Please?" you beg, as you try and sit her up. Your grip slipping on her narrow shoulders as the cold water pelts you. You're now both thoroughly soaked, your clothes clinging to your bodies.
A small gasp escapes her lips, and your breathing is labored as you find yourself staring at the curve of her neck. Water trailing down the long column, leading to her now exposed shoulder as the strap of her dress tangles in your fingers. Her hooded eyes are fixed on yours, as you try and release your captive fingers.
Once free you brace yourself on the edge of the tub, on either side of Ginny's head. Needing put her at arms length. But, who were you kidding, because once you feel her small hands pull you down to her by the collar of your shirt, your elbows immediately give. She kisses you hard and thorough. Merlin, you shouldn't have let that happen. You have to rip your mouth away from hers, your body screaming its protestation.
"I'll do anything for you," she purrs against your mouth. And your breath is coming out shaky and stunted. Closing your eyes, you make yourself back away from the only girl you want to be close to. It takes every once of will you have to sit yourself down in the tub opposite Ginny. Your head in your hands as you try and reclaim your self control. Doing your utmost to put as much space between you and your biggest temptation as you could, while still being close to wake her if needed.
"You're killing me, Ginny," you tell her as you sweep your soaked hair off your forehead. Grabbing your wand you cast a water repellant charm on your glasses. The two of you sit there in the bottom of the tub watching each other, as the cold water rains down on you. Her red hair is dark and it's sticking to her skin. Her peach dress is clinging to her legs. Her skin some how paler under the cold spray, and you don't know if you've ever seen her look so beautiful.
This was not how you imagined your first shower with Ginny to go...or this night for that matter.
"Harry, did you miss me when you were gone?" Ginny asks you abruptly. She's eyeing you curiously.
You can feel the icy water trailing down your spine. Scrubbing a hand over your mouth you reply, "We shouldn't be talking about this now."
"Why not?" she asks, settling back more comfortably against her side of the tub.
You feel like laughing. How many times had you wanted to discuss this? But she had been adamantly ignoring you for months. "Because there's a strong chance you won't remember any of this tomorrow," you tell her matter-of-factly, sending her a challenging look.
"What if I do?' she returns, challenging you right back.
"You won't."
"Do you love me, Harry?"
You nearly choke on your own saliva. What was this devil potion? "Ginny, this conversation is over," you order, removing your glasses and pinching the bridge of your nose. You could already feel your hangover headache, and you hadn't even gotten to sleep yet.
But Ginny was never one to take orders. "I think you do. Why won't you tell me?" she asks you, sounding genuinely interested.
Replacing your glasses, you fight every temptation to ask a few burning questions that you have for her. She was in such a chatty mood. But you set yourself. You will not take advantage of her. "Ginny, let's talk about something else," you suggest, checking your watch. How much longer were they going to be with that blasted antidote?
"Would it help if I told you that I loved you?" Ginny asks you, and you're frozen to the spot. Your gaze locks with hers as the meaning of what she just said hits your bones like firewhiskey.
Your hand reaches for her when a triumphant, "We've got it!" rings through the apartment.
The trance you've been held in broken, you shake your head and reply, "We're in the loo!" You stand, and greet George, Ron, and Hermoine awkwardly as they squeeze into the little room.
"She wouldn't wake up," you explain sheepishly grabbing a towel and drying off your hair. "The cold water kept her awake."
"Quick thinking!" George commends, handing his sister a glass of purple sludge, "Drink up Sis, one of us needs to be normal again." George tells her, and Ginny thankfully takes the glass and drinks it.
A collective sigh of relief sounds through the tiny room. You shut off the water, and look to Ginny, who is now asleep.
"We added a small amount of sleeping draught to it, so she could rest," Hermione explains, eyeing you keenly. It makes you wonder if she can read your mind.
"Let's get her dried off," George suggests, and you all pull out your wands employing your best drying spells. "She can sleep here. Mum will never let her out of the house again if she finds out about this. She can stay in my room, and I'll crash in Fred's bed."
"Are you sure?" Ron asks warily. No one had gone into Fred's room since he'd passed.
"Yeah. Fred would have hexed me if I didn't look out for Ginny," George answers back, his voice thick with tears. You watch as Ron pulls George into a hug.
"He would want you to be happy," Ron whispers to his brother, and you find yourself blinking back your own tears.
"Alright, enough of that," George jokes, biffing his younger brother on the head. And you feel yourself laughing. Truly laughing.
"Mind if I stay too?" you ask as your chuckles subsided. "I just want to make sure she's alright," you explain, suddenly feeling like you might have crossed some line.
But George just smiles, "Of course. That would be helpful."
"Yeah, we'll stay too," Ron adds, and George's smile grows.
As Ron takes a now dry and sleeping Ginny to George's room, the rest of you pile out in the living room. Where Neville greets you, having stuck around. You say hello and find yourself shaking your head incredulously at the odd turn of events.
When Ron returns, you all settle down. George kicked back in his easy chair, Ron and Hermione on the couch, Neville sitting by the hearth of the fire, and you nestled back into the second sofa.
You find yourselves talking about the events of the night. Everyone adding their own point of view. The topic turns to Hogwarts, and then the war, and then to those lost. Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, the others and even Fred for a while. And you talk about those left, survivors. How life will be different. You all talk until the fire burns down to only smoldering embers, before Hermione drops off to sleep. Then Neville drifts off, having charmed the pillow he'd been leaning on to four times the size. Til it's just you Ron and George. Talking about everything. Talking about nothing. Then Ron is snoring quietly, holding Hermione close to his heart.
And it's just you and George. You talk about the day the Weasley twins first gave you the Marauder's Map, and you tell him all about Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. After a while the sound of quiet foot steps joins the quiet pops of the scarcely crackling fire. You turn your tired head to see a sleepy Ginny Weasley, wrapped in a blanket, standing in the hallway entrance.
"Hi," she says quietly, looking around the room at her dozing friends.
"Hey, Ginny," George greets her sleepily.
"I think I owe you both a huge thank you," Ginny admits, and even in the low light you can see the blush on her cheeks.
"Hey, what are big brothers for?" George tells her sweetly, and you are so thankful that you sat in Ron's train compartment your first year. Ginny pads across the room to her brother, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead.
"I've missed your smile," she tells her older brother, and you can see on George's face how much those words mean to him. You find yourself quickly looking at the fire, wanting to give them a private moment.
But then you feel the sofa dip next to you, and your gaze is pulled back to Ginny, who has sat down beside you. Her bare legs curled up on the sofa. You want to ask her what she remembers; if she's livid with you for having kissed her. And you know you probably should do a million other things, but you can't bring your body to do anything but drape your arm around her shoulders, and pull her against your chest, and she comes to you without protest, expecting your response. You look to George, who is watching the two of you. Hoping that what you're doing is okay. He just gives you a somber nod.
"So, what were you boys talking about?" Ginny asks dreamily, her eyes closed, unaware of your interaction with George. Your body is humming in satisfaction as she nuzzles her head against your chest. You take a long deep breath, savoring this fleeting moment.
"I think we were on the subject of Ron's original dress robes," George murmurs, and you all chuckle at the memory. Your body feels at ease for the first time in a long while, as Ginny's hand rests over your heart. You three keep up for only a matter of minutes before George finally surrenders himself to peaceful sleep. As the last embers of the fire slowly fade away you pull your own legs up onto the sofa and Ginny instinctively wraps herself around you.
"Ginny?" you whisper against her hair, and she answers you with a sleepy, "hmm?"
"I thought about you every day I was gone," you tell her. You need her to know that.
She is quiet for a long while, and you begin to wonder if she heard you. "The letter was from Charlie," she murmurs back, nuzzling herself closer to you. And you can't help but chuckle at your own petty jealousy, as you wrap her tighter in your arms.
"Do you think we'll ever be okay?" you ask her as the tug of sleep begins to overtake you.
"I think we all will," was the last thing you heard before final drift pulled you in.
...
That night was the turning point. The first step in find your way back to yourselves. All of you. The pulling together to help someone in need. To see who you turned to when trouble arose. What lengths you would go to for those you cared about. To see that you could still be whole when you are half; you could still hold other's up when you are drowning.
Stepping out of yourself to see the world.
To see that life moves forward.
...
Author's Note: I would love to hear your thoughts. Please take a moment to review.