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Chapter 15

"I can't believe that brother of mine sometimes." Ginny was lying on her bed, legs raised and feet propped against the headboard. She was throwing a miniature stuffed quaffle into the air and catching it, the movement almost hypnotic in its rhythm.

"Ronald has a propensity toward rudeness." said Luna in her straightforward lilting tone. She was sitting on the empty bed that had belonged to Lavender, across from Hermione in the room shared by the seventh year Gryffindor girls and Hermione. "He tends to allow his emotions to take the reins before —."

"He realizes he's cocked it all up." Ginny interjected, nodding, "and attempts to make amends."

"His heart is in the right place, but his tongue can leave much to be desired at times." Agreed Hermione, having been on the lancing end of his tongue many times. She was perched atop her bedspread, Harry's letter smoothed out in front of her, beside a fresh piece of parchment that contained the beginning of her reply. "Though it seems this time, it appears he didn't mean to send a howler."

Ginny snorted. "More like he regretted sending it right after and tried to think of a way around your wand."

"Why'd Ron accidentally send you a howler?" Padma asked. Luna had been somewhat filled in by Ginny during their classes, but Padma was completely in the dark.

"I'd assume it's because Seamus made good on his promise."

Padma's face remained blank.

"He ran telling tales to Harry and Ron about her 'consorting with the enemy' apparently, or so Dean said when he came over at lunch apologizing for Seamus's meddling." Said Ginny.

"Seamus apparently felt the need relay the news of my befriending a Slytherin to those he felt would 'get my head on straight' — his words. And, not just any Slytherin, but one whose father was an esteemed Death Eater who physically made attempts on our lives."

Silence blanketed the room momentarily, as everyone withdrew to thoughts of their own war time experiences, near misses and violent encounters.

"Malfoy's dad wasn't a nice man; I overheard more than I wished to while captive. But Draco…" Luna began but broke off, peering out the window, her perpetually impenetrable demeanor shifting to one, Hermione thought, radiated raw melancholia. "Draco has kindness in him — I've first hand knowledge of that — tempered by the shackles of his upbringing. There's hope that son will be different than father, if he can continue to prune back that which entraps him, poisons him."

Luna looked around her then, and Hermione saw grief and hope warring across her face. It was such an unusual expression upon Luna's face that she felt unsettled — since they hadn't been talking about Draco — and Luna never referenced her time spent in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor.

"Theodore Nott is nothing like his father." Luna stated, her eyes staring directly into Hermione's. "Always trust your instincts Hermione, they've served you well; also trust the negliwrasps."

"Negli-what?" Asked Hermione, knowing before Luna answered that whatever they were was utter nonsense… not that she'd admit that out loud. She'd learned the value of biting her tongue in this respect.

"Negliwrasps. They are drawn to and hover around those with unscrupulous intentions, and splintered souls. The Death Eaters were all surrounded by clouds of them, Draco's had one or two following him, though at a distance since fifth year, and Theodore, well, he's had none, the entire time he's been at school."

"None?" Breathed Hermione, knowing she'd probably have had at least one hovering around her during fifth year when she'd willingly cursed the DA parchment, and thus, Marietta. The permanence of the curse could be validly considered unscrupulous in nature.

That is, if Luna was to be believed and negliwrasps were, in fact, real.

"How did you see them Luna?" Asked Ginny as Luna shook her head in confirmation at Hermione. "I've never seen anything around or following Malfoy, and Merlin knows Harry pointed him out enough that my attention would have seen something at some point."

"Oh they're very subtle, you must know what to look for before they'll manifest. It's one of those 'you wonder how you missed it' sort of creature, like a bowtruckle."

"But Luna, there have been legitimate, documented sightings of Bowtruckles…" began Hermione, but broke off from a look from Ginny.

"So what did Harry's letter contain, Hermione, other than letting you know to expect a howler from Ron?" Asked Ginny, turning her head to survey her friend. "You didn't really mention earlier."

Hermione could hear the feigned nonchalance behind the question, and wondered again at how her two friends had left their relationship, be it friendship or carrying on from before Harry's year on the run. Hermione had never gotten a bead on their dynamic once the war was over, she'd had other priorities to sort and muddle through, and hadn't bothered herself overmuch about it at the time.

"Have a look." Hermione said, rolling it up again and tossing it toward the other bed. Ginny scooped up the scroll, unrolled it and began to read silently. Having already read it over, Hermione knew the words that Ginny's eyes were taking in, and felt a stone settle in her stomach as she realized how Ginny might feel by the end. To her knowledge, Harry had yet to write Ginny since term started.

'Dear Hermione,

It feels a bit off, writing you at Hogwarts instead of talking to you in person. I reckon it's a bit of a breather to not have us constantly needling you for homework help, though also rather dull I'd assume.

Seamus owled Ron and I about you 'consorting with the enemy', or rather, Theodore Nott. Can't say I know much about the bloke, other than his father was a Death Eater, but I asked Kingsley at work about him after Seamus's note as he dealt with the Death Eater's families during the trials, and he says that Theodore seems a right sort. No hesitation, didn't even bat an eye despite associations.

I know you're waiting for me to warn you off befriending Slytherins, and if it was before the war, I definitely would have.

I meant what I said, though, that day at the Ministry, Hermione. I'm determined to keep an open mind and to see beyond the house and family name. I want to put this bloody war behind us.

That said, how are the Slytherins holding up? Who returned? Did Malfoy? I wonder if he's different now, with Lucius incarcerated and losing… well, after everything… or is he still a poncy git?

I'm glad to hear you're making new friends… I was a bit worried that without Ron and I there — yes, I know Ginny and Luna are there with you too! — that you'd spend all your time in the library.

(Don't roll your eyes Hermione, it's a fair concern!)

Hopefully this new friendship won't lead to another seven years of near-death experiences for you. Har har.

Best,

Harry

PS: Auror training is bloody brutal! I'm right knackered, but it's too brilliant to winge about over much. We even get to duel next week! I'll tell you more when I see you, which will be in two days time. We got permission to come up for weekend. Say hello to Ginny for me, I'm looking forward to seeing her.

There was a splotch of ink, and then in a different hand, written at the bottom:

PPS: Bloody Hell! 'Lo Hermione. Ron here, the letter I just wrote you — that my ruddy owl's already flown off with — honest, I didn't mean to send you a howler! Though I'm not exactly chuffed you've begun consorting with snakes, Harry can vouch that I wrote you a decent note on anormal looking parchment I'd found in the sideboard. Then it started smoking and turned red in front of our eyes and attached itself to my ruddy owl's foot. Hopefully you get this —Harry's — letter first…so you know I'm not proper mad or anything. If not, then… we'll, I'll see you and Ginny soon as Harry said, please don't sic your birds on me…'

Ginny raised her head.

"Well, that was…" she broke off and rolled onto her back once again. The sound of the quaffle being tossed and caught began again, this time with a bit more force behind the throws.

"Gin?" Said Hermione.

"I'm fine," Ginny said. "Fine. I knew it was going to be different, but…"

"Fancy a walk?" Asked Hermione, exchanging a glance with Luna. Ginny sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

"No, I'm too restless to walk. I need… I need to fly!" She hopped from the bed and threw on her quidditch robes, picking up her broom after tying her hair back with a leather tie.

"Enjoy your flight, Ginny. I'm going to head back to mine, want to start on the Herbology assignment due Friday." Said Padma, rising from where she sat. Luna also rose.

"I'll walk with you," she said, gathering her satchel and nodding toward Padma.

"I know you aren't one for flying, Hermione, but fancy walking with me to the pitch?" Asked Ginny, her eyes bright and fierce.

"Hang on a moment," said Hermione, reaching for the woolen jumper from fifth year and sliding it over her head, a sigh escaping as she realized the snug fit she'd enjoyed at the end of sixth year had disappeared. Instead, the jumper hung almost loose around her, highlighting the lack of calories the previous year on the run had afforded her. "Right, let's head down. I'll watch from the stands."

"Luna, I'll come see you when I'm back ok, and we'll work on our transfiguration homework together?"

Luna smiled and gave Ginny an understanding smile at her suggestion.

"Have a good flight Ginny." Said Luna serenely, and her and Padma followed Ginny and Hermione down the dormitory stairs and out of the common room.

oOo-xXx-oOo

"So… Ginny." Hermione began, searching for the right words as they made their way down the main staircase toward the entrance doors. "What's going on with you and Harry?"

Ginny laughed mirthlessly. "Honestly, Hermione, I don't bloody know anymore. I thought, after the war, he'd be ready for some normalcy, for… me. But then so many died, so many we loved died, my family is splintered and Teddy's an orphan. I know Harry feels guilty about all of it, and I don't want to push him but for Merlin's Effin' sake, I'm right here and I'm grieving too and he's…"

Ginny finally took a breath, her words tapering off from lack of oxygen. In a quieter tone she said, "he's not… I mean, he's focused and fixated on justice, righting wrongs, and we had exactly a week, one bloody week, where it was just us and we were healing together. He wasn't the 'Boy-who-Lived-Again' or 'The Chosen One', he was just Harry. My Harry. And then, the trials began, and all he could talk about was ensuring no miscarriages of justice occurred, and Draco sodding Malfoy, about making sure he spoke up for both him and his mum and suddenly he wasn't my Harry anymore. He was… he was 'The Chosen One' again. But, different, this time around."

Hermione stayed silent, knowing Ginny needed to vent, needed a safe place for her words and emotions to fall, be heard, be acknowledged.

"I'm tired of competing, Hermione. Competing with the ghosts of loved ones passed, competing with his sense of duty, competing with Malfoy. It always seems to revolve back to him for some reason, has for years I think."

She looked away for a moment then back toward Hermione. "I have my own grief to wade through, my own self to rebuild... last year was... it was an absolute bloody nightmare here Hermione... and the dead... I adored Sirius and Tonks, I respected Professor Lupin and ache for little Teddy and Andromeda, and Fred… oh Merlin, Freddy…" Ginny's voice hitched, her lip quivered, and the granite that made up her bones and the resilience in her veins crumbled. Hermione's heart throbbed in sorrow as she watched Ginny brake down, pulling the other witch into her arms and letting her cry.

Behind the mask. Hermione knew Ginny was as shattered and disheartened as them all, though she'd learned early on to shore it all up and lock it away tight; that adults didn't concern themselves with the trivialities of the younger generation's traumas and stressors; their emotional reactions were uncomfortable to bear, and unseemly at most. Best to sweep everything under the rug with a pat on the head, a warm bowl of soup and a list of chores to stave off idle hands and thoughts.

Hermione thought the whole attempt and mindset was utter rubbish, and had an immense respect for Ginny's internal fortitude.

She'd been through more than most could imagine, Ginny had, having fought off Tom Riddle's possession as a first year, and Hermione knew none of what she'd gone through that year had ever been properly addressed.

Not by an adult, at least; not by someone who could actually do something for the traumatized eleven year old too afraid to sleep without an illuminated bluebell jar beside her bed for years after and who never wrote in a notebook ever again.

Hermione and Ginny spent many summer nights chatting about that year over the many that followed, when Ginny felt brave enough to open up about it. In the dead of night, surrounded by dim shadows and the sounds of nocturnal insects and the steady babbling of the distant brook, Ginny had opened up about what having Tom Riddle possessing you felt like… she purged her sorrows into the bedroom's stillness — her anger, her fears, her embarrassments, and her regrets — and Hermione had steadfastly listened and absorbed it all, murmuring comfort when appropriate but typically just being there as support for her friend who'd endured so much so young.

She'd never blamed Ginny for being the catalyst of her paralysis that year, and Hermione felt, if anything, that it offered a balm of sorts to Ginny having one of the basilisk's victims absolve her of the burden of accountability. Merlin knew that Dumbledore had merely patted her on the back and sent her away with a lemon drop and a request to not discuss the matter to anyone. No offers of assistance, no discussion as to her mental state and adjusting post possession.

To her knowledge, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had taken their lead from Dumbledore, and hadn't broached the subject with their daughter.

Hermione found the whole matter appalling — how the adult wizards and witches in charge had reacted and swept everything under the carpet — even years later. Maybe this would be a topic that could be breached with Theo during their 'Wizarding Customs' discussion.

Hermione wondered, not for the first time, why the Wizarding world had no mental health healers, or even discussions surrounding that particular branch of medical focus. It was as if the turning of a blind eye upon events and circumstances that negatively impacted mental health was embraced culturally, to their detriment.

Following war, the immense healing that the Wizarding community would need — both physically and mentally — was beyond current measure and resources, and the lack of foresight and even acknowledgment that this would be an area of necessity and benefit was baffling to her.

'My muggle is showing,' she thought, rubbing her hand up and down Ginny's back as the sobs lessened. With a surreptitious wipe to her own eyes, Hermione waited until Ginny pulled back slightly before bracing her hands on her friend's shoulders.

"Still up for a fly?"

"Absolutely!" Ginny stated, and with a swish of her wand, the only evidence of her breakdown were overly bright eyes.

Hermione contemplated how to say what she felt needed to be said.

As they began walking she said, "Ginny, neither of you should fall into something just because it used to fit. You are both different than who you were over a year ago. It'd be disrespectful to not acknowledge those changes, as you do yourselves a disservice by glossing over your new and missing parts. You'll either grow together as a couple, or regrow separately as friends. But you both need to step back and take stock I think."

She chewed her lower lip, waiting for Ginny's response. As Ginny opened her mouth to speak, an adenoidal voice interrupted them.

"Well, well well… If it isn't Granger and Weasley, out for an evening stroll."

oOo-xXx-oOo

A/N: Thank you to all who've reviewed and commented! You brighten my days with your theories and interest and kind words!