September 4th, 1977

12:15 am

I woke up screaming. The feeling of the whip on my back still stinging even though it struck months ago – or was it years in the future? I hadn't decided yet. Madame Pomfrey was there to calm me, a worried look in her eye as she smoothed the hair, slick with sweat, off of my forehead. I went back to sleep.

2:47 am

I woke up crying. The heat of my mother's embrace was fading – letting me grow cold. I didn't want to be cold. I wanted to home – wanted to be anywhere but here. But I was here. I had made my choice - a stupid choice -but mine all the same. I closed my eyes and saw her face dancing on my eyelids. The red hair, the bright eyes, the warm smile, I fell back to sleep dreaming of my mum.

5:08 am

I was bleeding. Sometime in my nightmares, in the thrashing about as I slept, I'd sliced open my arm. It wasn't very deep, and it wasn't even all that painful. Or maybe I'd just gotten used to the throb of pain throughout my body and didn't notice it. Pain or not, there was a good amount of blood staining the white sheet.

I should call Madam Pomfrey.

The sun was peeking in through the window and the warmth of light was welcome. I'd spent so many weeks hiding from the light. Hiding from the enemy. It felt good to feel it on my face and my body. My body was covered by the bloody sheet. The bleeding was getting worse.

I should call Madam Pomfrey.

I liked how it trailed down my arm, and pooled in the sheet. It was so bright against my pale skin – dripping down my elbow. It was almost beautiful watching the sheet turn red. Gods my head hurts.

I should call Madam Pomfrey.

The sun continued to rise.

I continued to bleed.

I didn't call her.

8:25 am

I was floating. It was a feeling of weightlessness that overcame me as I floated in the air. For the first time in months, I was warm. The chill that seemed to live in my bones had gone, and in its place was a welcome warmth that lulled me to sleep. But I was already sleeping, wasn't I? No, I wasn't sleeping – I was heavy. I couldn't move my arms or legs. It was like they had filled with lead while I was sleeping. It felt so nice. This weightless, warm, sleepy, heavy place was so nice. I wanted to stay forever. It beckoned me to follow it. The nice place. Where are we going? I thought. Far away. It answered. I followed slowly with my lead-filled limbs, to the far away.

"Madam Pomfrey!" The shout tore me from the dream. The bright white and warm dream. "Madam Pomfrey!" I groaned as I turned, trying to drown out the noise, but found that my body was heavy. It wasn't a dream. I opened my eyes to see Sirius Black standing over me. He had a hold of my arm. Why was he squeezing my arm like that? His long blue shirt sleeves were stained red. Why were they red?

"Mr. Black what the-"

"She's bleeding!" He shouted again. I groaned. Shut up. There was another body over me now. I felt the cool hands of the matron as she lifted my head.

"Open your mouth for me, Ginny." I kept my lips clamped shut. I didn't want to take it. I didn't want it to go away. I was warm, I was heavy, I was sleepy, I was so close to being far away. "Open your mouth."

"Come on, Red," Sirius pleaded. I turned my head to face him. He was so handsome now. His blue-grey eyes churned like the sky before a storm as he encouraged me. If he knew what he was asking me to leave behind, he wouldn't beg me to do this. But how could he know? Sirius didn't know me yet. And yet, he was here. He was holding me, he was helping me – at least he thought he was. "Open your mouth, Ginny." I liked it when he called me that. When he called me by my name. His grip tightened on my arm and my lips parted in a gasp.

"Good girl," Madam Pomfrey said as the cool thick liquid poured down my throat. It tasted like cherries and feet. If I'd had more strength I would have gagged. She placed her hand over my mouth, forcing the potion down. I instantly felt the lead receding. Her hand was gone from my lips in a second and had moved to my arm where I felt the white-hot heat of magic stitching the wound back together.

"Mmmm," I groaned as the heat intensified. It was burning my arm, scalding the skin, and setting a fire in my limb. Madam Pomfrey's muttering was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to my arm, but no longer did I feel it coming out. Whatever spell she'd used was working, the wound was closed, but the pain of healing was unbearable. I thrashed, but she kept hold of my arm. I yelled, but I couldn't hear my shouts. And then it was black.

11:48 am

The sun was shining through the windows, beating down on my face as I lay nestled in the scratchy sheets. I wasn't so warm anymore, and the heaviness had left my limbs. I moved my fingers, testing them to see if they were still there. As I twitched I found that everything was in working order. Ten fingers, then ten toes. I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the world around me. It was late, maybe noon? The sun was bright, and inviting over the grounds. The rustling of someone shifting nearby drew my attention away from the window.

He was still here. Sirius. A curtain of curly dark hair hid his face from my view as he read a book. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Funny, Sirius had never struck me as the studious type. I liked how his fingers tapped on the spine as he read like he was mulling over the words in deep thought. Or maybe it was to a tune only he could hear. His feet were up on the edge of the bed as he leaned back. If the sun hit him just right I could see the many shades of black that hid in his hair. I shifted my weight to get a better look and was rewarded with the curtain of hair being flicked to the side and his blue eyes met with my brown. He smiled.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

I smiled weakly. "What happened?"

"Not really sure, I came in to have breakfast with you and you were bleeding and muttering to yourself. If I hadn't come in you might've bled out."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'll be whatever I want to be. You ruined my favorite shirt." He held up his arms to reveal the dark red stained sleeves. My eyes widened in surprise. "How are you feeling?"

I took inventory before answering. My head was hurting again, my arm was throbbing, I had a ringing in my ear, and for some reason, my tooth ached. "Not so bad."

"Don't lie." It wasn't a request, it was a warning like he could see right through me. My face fell and I looked back through the window again before answering.

"I feel like shit."

"Want me to get Pomfrey?"

"No," I replied. I looked back over to him and saw him studying me. "Why do you care? We don't know each other."

"Yes, we do. You're Ginny Cole, I'm Sirius Black. We met last night…oh gods, you don't have amnesia do you?" a sly grin broke out over his face as his joke landed. I couldn't help it. I laughed. It was like a victory to him, my laughter. He leaned back in the chair, and stowed the book away, giving me his full attention. "I thought you might want some company."

"Thank you…for the company…and for finding me."

"I do have to get Pomfrey. She made me swear."

"Two more minutes and then you can get her."

"Deal," He winked. Who was this boy? I thought to myself, he was nothing like the man that I remembered – or would know. This boy was full of life, full of joy, full of…was it hope? There was a world of possibility for this boy. It pained me to think about what was going to happen to him, to think about how the future would hurt him…kill him. "Sickle for your thoughts?" his words pulled me back to the present. Sirius couldn't afford my thoughts….I couldn't share them with him or anyone else.

"They'll cost you a galleon."

"I'm good for it," He smiled as he leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees. He waited patiently for me to speak, giving me more attention than I cared to be shown. I squirmed under his gaze.

"It's nothing," I shrugged.

"Don't lie." There it was again, the playful warning that held a promise. A promise to listen, not to judge. It was oddly comforting.

"You remind me of someone."

"A boyfriend?"

"No." I snorted at the thought.

"No boyfriend then," He asked with raised eyebrows. I felt a blush start to warm my cheeks.

"Not really," I rolled my eyes. Harry wasn't my boyfriend, he hadn't been for nearly a year. I guess he never would be now. "You remind me of an old friend."

"Was he handsome? This friend?" Sirius leaned back a little to pose, to show off his perfectly sharp jawline and chiseled physique. I laughed at his preening.

"He was twice my age!"

"Oh so you like older men," Sirius leaned back feigning astonishment. He squinted his eyes as he studied me. "You're seventeen?"

I thought about it. If it was September now, then I'd missed my seventeenth birthday, did it still count? "Yes."

"When's your birthday?" He sized me up in that mocking way again.

"August 11th," I smiled.

"I'm eighteen on November 3rd so that makes me the older man," He leaned forward onto his knees again and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Which makes me your type."

"Is that so?"

"But you can't go out with me," He shrugged. "I can't take a woman on a date unless she's in fighting shape."

"Who said I would go out with you?" I laughed even louder.

"Well generally speaking, when someone saves your life – ruining their favorite shirt to do it – you owe them a favor of gratitude."

"So I owe you a date?" I asked with a laugh. Sirius's face broke out into a bright grin that nearly split his face in two.

"What a brilliant idea, a date!" He feigned shock. It made me laugh. "Once you're well, of course."

"Wait a minute!" I chuckled. "That's not-"

"No take-backs," He shrugged and stood up from his char. "That's your two minutes." He turned toward the back of the hospital wing and shouted "Madam Pomfrey! She's awake."

September 6th, 1977

I was empty, weak, numb. It had set in around 3 am, and I found myself unable to tear my gaze from the window, but the view was blurry. Around me, students came in and out with various maladies, and I heard them come in but I couldn't distinguish the sounds. I was miles away. I was floating. I was numb. They were all gone. Everyone I knew, was gone. Even if they weren't gone for real they were gone to me. I was alone in this world – in this time. Even the people that were here, and that I would know, weren't the same. And my family were so close, a letter away, but if they received word from me now they'd think I was a raving lunatic. I didn't even exist yet.

My bandaged arm itched but I couldn't bring myself to scratch it. My neck was aching from the lack of movement but I didn't turn. I didn't shift. I didn't blink. It was a miracle that I found the strength to breathe. Why the hell was I so stupid? So impulsive? I never should have said yes. I never should have listened to what Dumbledore and Snape had to say. I should have said no to the mission and met my fate on the battlefield alongside my friends, my family, and the boy I loved. But instead, I was here. Where I was plagued by the ghosts of the past. The ghosts who I couldn't warn about their fate. The ghosts who wouldn't leave me the hell alone. The ghosts whose kindness offered me solace in the darkness. The ghosts who were just that: ghosts. Maybe not yet, but soon…too soon.

What have I done? The words echoed through my head, drowning out the bustling hospital wing. What have I done? I'm alone here. What have I done? The only company I'd been offered was the company of phantoms. What have I done? The phantoms who didn't know what I'd seen. What have I done? Phantoms who were so light, so different, so blissfully ignorant of the world they were about to enter. What have I done? Phantoms who pulled me back from the edge and wouldn't let me just. fucking. die. What have I done?

"You'll never get better if you don't eat," The stern voice of Madam Pomfrey broke me out of my stupor. When had she arrived? When had she brought me food? What time was it? I looked at her in confusion.

"I'm not hungry," I murmured. The food would have excited me yesterday, a week ago I would have dug in without a second thought – today I couldn't bear the thought of it. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips in disappointment.

"You're very thin," she replied in a quieter tone. "When was the last time you had a good meal?"

"Yesterday," I shrugged.

"Before you came here?" I thought about it, the last good meal I'd eaten – it must have been months ago. Was it Easter? No, it couldn't have been. We were with Muriel then, 6 of us hiding together with barely enough food to go around. Maybe Christmas? But it wasn't then, because we couldn't leave the Burrow to shop for the meal and we'd had soup made with vegetables from the garden instead. And even when I was still at Hogwarts I hadn't been able to eat much, the pain from the whippings and talk of torture never gave me much of an appetite. I shrugged, I didn't know when the last time I'd had a really good meal was. "I thought so. You're underweight, maybe 100 pounds if I'm generous."

"Captivity does that to you," I retorted numbly. She took a long pause, mulling over my confession. Maybe I should have lied, but it was too late. She knew.

"Well you're safe now," She said gently, patting my hand as she stood up from the chair. She looked up toward the next bed over and gave a solemn nod. "You'll make sure she eats it all?"

"Yes ma'am," came the quiet replies of Remus and Sirius. When had they come in? They studied me with quiet concern from their spot a few feet away. Maybe if I'd felt better, stronger, I would have been ashamed. But I wasn't. I was empty, weak, numb.

September 8th, 1977

I couldn't get comfortable. The sheets were scratchy, the bed was too hard, and I was unbearably hot. The sheet was slick with the sweat from my back and even uncovered, I was boiling. I heaved a great sigh as I sat up, sleep was not coming to me any time soon.

The room was utterly silent. Everyone had been released, it was just me. I hadn't been alone in a year. The last time – well I couldn't remember the last time I was alone. It wasn't safe to be on your own anymore. Even before the war, there was always some noise from my brothers, from my roommates, from…everywhere. Not tonight. The silence cloaked me, stifled me, caused me to overheat. It pooled on my skin alongside the sweat.

"Ginny," a whisper called from the door. I jumped nearly a foot in the air. I turned quickly toward the sound, grabbing my wand from the bedside table and pointing it toward the door. James appeared, hands up in surrender, Sirius trailed behind him laughing silently. "We come in peace." James laughed.

"Do you two have a death wish?" I asked, stowing the wand away and leaning back against the pillows to catch my breath and stop my head from spinning.

"We wanted to see you," Sirius laughed as he sat himself down in his usual chair by the bed. The chair he'd been occupying at 6:00 this evening.

"We just had dinner together."

"Well you won't be in the great hall tomorrow, so we had to tell you about our prank." Sirius winked.

"It's bloody brilliant too," James cackled maniacally. I sat up on my pillows a bit to listen.

"Let's hear it then."

"Howlers." Both boys burst into fits of silent laughter that I didn't quite follow.

"Howlers?"

"To all of Slytherin house. It was Peter's idea. Bloody brilliant!" Sirius added.

"Right as they all sit down for lunch a series of howlers will be delivered to them all-" James began

"They've been timed to go off one right after the other." Sirius finished.

"And the worst of them all is first." They both shared a wicked look.

"Snivellus." They said in sync.

"Who's Snivellus?" I asked.

"Oh you'll meet him, he's the worst." James leaned back in his chair in triumph.

"How long did it take you to charm- how many howlers?"

"Only 107," Sirius replied coolly. "Took us – what would you say Prongs? 14 hours?"

"Fourteen hours?!" I gasped. "You're mad!"

"We had some free time," James shrugged.

"We have to start this year off with a bang-" Sirius added.

"A shout is more like it." They both giggled again and I couldn't help but smile along with them. I felt like it was two years ago, and I was talking to Fred and George again. Fred and George, my heart ached at the thought.

"Oh come on, Ginny, it's funny! Don't be mad!" Sirius begged me. I shrugged the feeling off, pushing it to the back of my head.

"I'm not," I sighed. "So tell me more, what do the howlers say?"

They launched into the greater details of their prank, distracting me from my pain – my grief. I laughed at the right parts, asked questions when appropriate, and even threw in a witty comment here and there. I played the part nicely. Or so I thought. Sirius watched me closely like he could see through my poorly constructed mask, as James took the lead. He knew. He could see me. He'd always been able to see me.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" The deep voice broke me out of my head and brought me back to reality as I turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway. He was wearing a burgundy smoking jacket, the crown from his Christmas cracker still on his head.

"They'll cost you a galleon," I replied and turned back to the window where I could watch the snow falling outside. Around me the sounds of a Weasley Christmas could be heard, George and Fred were belting out a not-so-family-friendly Christmas Carol as my mum loudly shouted for them to quiet down and Hermione and Ron could be heard bickering about god knows what. It all felt so overwhelming, so stifling, so…fucking loud. I wanted to be left alone, to sulk in my anger at the world. I wanted to go home.

"I'm good for it," he offered. I turned back to look at him leaning against the doorway and patiently waiting for an invitation into my head. Sirius never wanted to talk to me. We hadn't spoken since that night in the kitchen, that weird drunken night that I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around. He never looked me in the eyes. He never wanted to hear about what was going on in my head.

"Why do you care?"

"You looked like you needed someone to talk to," He shrugged. A part of me wanted to tell him to piss off, but another part of me knew he was right.

"Fine, but close the bloody door." He grinned in that mischievous way he only did when Harry or Professor Lupin was around. It made me feel like I was a part of the mischief too. He shut the door softly behind him and made his way over to the window seat with me. It was huge, and we sat comfortably facing each other. He stared out the window while I studied him closely. "You look better." My words surprised him and he turned to look at me with wide eyes. "Not so skinny, and tired I mean."

"Thank you." He smiled – grimaced is more like it – and looked back out the window again.

"Why do you always avoid me?" My question surprised him and he let out a nervous laugh to cover it.

"I came in here to listen to your problems, not tell you about mine."

"Maybe that's my problem."

"Me avoiding you?"

"Sure," I shrugged. It wasn't really the problem at hand it was at the bottom of the list and couldn't be called a problem if I was honest. It was a mild curiosity at best. Okay, it was more than mild, anytime he was brought up I was transported back to that night in the kitchen when he almost kissed me. When he made me promise.

"I have been avoiding you," He said. "I didn't know what to say…about your dad."

"Say anything else," I sighed as I leaned my head back against the cold wood along the wall. It was a welcome hardness that met the back of my head.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Because you haven't said much of anything about it since you got here," He pointed out. "Everyone's talking about it, except you."

"Why do we have to talk about it? It doesn't change anything."

"It might help with anger if you do."

"It won't. The only thing that will help with the anger is if someone would just bloody KILL. FUCKING. VOLDEMORT." I shouted at him. The rage was burning a fire through me now. Heating me from my core to my toes and bringing white-hot tears down my cheeks. Sirius was unmoved by my outburst.

"There it is," He smiled wearily.

"I just want to be alone. It's so bloody LOUD everywhere." I raged. "If it isn't my brothers, it's this house, or it's Hermione, or it's Harry, or it's my mum. It's like a physical weight on my chest. I can't bloody breathe it's so fucking LOUD!" I was sobbing now, raving about noise even though that wasn't the real villain. The villain was – well I wasn't sure exactly who to blame. It was Voldemort, it was The Order, it was my family, it was the healers at St. Mungo's telling us they weren't sure how to heal my dad's wounds, it was everything. The sobs racked my body and I felt Sirius move from his spot on the window seat to kneel on the floor next to me. He pulled me to his chest in a tight hug as I cried.

How long did we sit like that? Me crying, him holding me, rocking us both back and forth. He never flinched at my tears, nor my sobs. They were the loud kind that shook your whole body and left your throat dry and sore, but he never batted an eye. Never made a noise. He just held me, and let me fall apart in his arms. At some point, our positions changed, and we were both on the floor. He with his back against the wall, and me with my legs stretched out next to his, and my body curled up against his chest. As my sobs quieted to silent tears, and not so silent hiccups, I could hear his heart beating in his chest. It was loud and fast. It drummed under my ear, bringing me back to reality. It was the only noise I could hear for the first time in ages. It was nice.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"What for, love?"

"Shouting at you." He let out a sharp breath through his nose in silent laughter.

"I forgive you." He replied. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"Making you shout." His chin rested on the top of my head and I felt so small at that moment, so safe and warm. All wrapped up in his embrace, I wondered what was going to happen to me. To all of us really. If my father could be attacked inside the ministry, one of the safest places imaginable, then what did that mean for the rest of us? I closed my eyes slowly, letting the drum of Sirius' heartbeat lull me to sleep. He never made a move to wake me, just rested his chin on my head, letting me relax into his embrace. As the exhaustion moved to overtake me, and the heaviness of my eyelids became too much to bear, his head shifted and I felt his lips pressing against the top of my head. "It'll be okay, Red, I promise." I fell asleep to his promises, in the safety of his arms.