Bearings
Disclaimer/Author's notes: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. And here is the first of many forays into other characters' lives.
Permanence unfolding in the absolute.
Forgiveness is
The ultimate sacrifice.
Eloquence belongs,
To the conqueror.
The pictures of time and space are rearranged,
In this little piece of typical tragedy.
System of a Down
Sad Statue
Interlude: And So It Goes
May 3rd, 2002
Ginny Weasley-soon-to-be Longbottom-rubbed her face wearily as she went over the last of the day's charts. St. Mungo's had been fairly quiet all day, and the only sound reaching the nurse's station was the squeaking of the wheels on a cart. She looked up from the files spread out in front of her, rolled her neck, and glanced at the clock. It read 6:15 pm. She groaned a bit; she had to be at the Burrow for dinner in forty-five minutes. She heaved a sigh, knowing that she wouldn't be able to complete these today, and flicked her wand. The files ordered and collected themselves into a nearby folder.
She shrugged out of her white Healer's scrubs, placed them a hook, and strode out from behind the desk. She looked down the hall, making sure everything was in order, and then headed toward the front of the hospital. As she was passing into the lobby, she reached up and tied her hair in to a loose ponytail, sweeping the red strands away from her pale, freckled face.
"Goin' home, Ginny?" the receptionist asked, as she passed. Ginny nodded and smiled at her, but kept on walking.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she called back, and passed out of the front doors into Diagon Alley.
As she descended the steps to the cobbled street, her senses gradually became aware of the activity going on around her. Laughter reached her ears, several small children running by captured her eyes, and the smell of Fortescue's rich chocolate ice cream stole her nose. She stopped as she stepped off the last step, and looked around. The sun was just passing below the roofs to the west, casting long shadows over the Alley.
All around her were the signs of contentment, of a happy life. She listened and watched as people went about their business, whether it was shopping, or dining out, or simply strolling along the street. Every day she came out of St. Mungo's she did the same thing, unable to get over how different it was compared to several years before, during Voldemort's time.
There had been so much fear, so much uncertainty. People were afraid of their own shadows, and they certainly wouldn't be caught out in the open, especially in a highly visible place like Diagon. Most of the shops had been forced to close up, at least temporarily. Many of the wizards and witches that she now saw populating the magical alley weren't even able to say the bad wizard's name; probably not even to this day. And yet…here they all were, going about their lives as if nothing had changed.
She supposed that she was a touch bitter, and more than a little bit cynical, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had seen how easily people were able to forget and move on and…repress those bad memories. It could easily happen again, something or someone like Voldemort, and she knew it. Harry had ended all of it, but it hadn't been truly stopped.
Thoughts of Harry brought a frown to her face. She didn't think many of these witches and wizards knew just how much they owed to the then teenager, and many of them probably didn't care to. It would make them feel guilty, and guilt was one thing that no one wanted to live with. It had been effortless at the time to just call Harry the Chosen One and place the weight of the world on his shoulders, without a second thought of what that was doing to him.
No one, she included, knew what it was really doing to him, until it was all over. Until he had left. Until he had stopped coming home… Then again, there was the bloody statue of him in the Ministry, and she supposed that was reminder enough for the Wizarding world as a whole. It wasn't enough for her though; she missed Harry. He had been a true friend to her, even if their relationship had been quite disastrous.
Unlike Hermione did, and Ginny knew that, she did not blame Harry for leaving or for losing ties with her and the others. She could only guess at what Harry had felt after he defeated Voldemort, and none of those feelings were positive.
Her feet started to carry her down the Alley toward her brothers' shop, and she continued to watch the people around her. She just wanted Harry back. Ever since he had left, their circle of friends had slowly been falling apart. The six of them had been inseparable from the time Dumbledore had been killed until Voldemort's downfall, but now Ginny rarely saw any of them except Neville.
Hermione was caught up in her work, Ron in his Quidditch, and Luna in Ron. She was extremely happy that Neville had proposed to her, but it seemed bittersweet because the connection she had to her closest friends was slowly being eroded away. She was 21, a grown woman; she had a steady job and a loving fiancé; she knew she had all of those things but the unhappiness was still there.
Ginny heaved another deep sigh as she came to the door to WWW, and put on a happier face. She had her health and her family, too; she wouldn't let herself get too down about things. She pressed her hand against the door and pushed, and was immediately assaulted by the noises of the various gadgets in the shop. There were quite a few shoppers, even at this late hour, and she had to thread her way through them to reach the counter. Fred was standing there, tending to customers. He spotted her, and grinned.
"Gin!" he said. He then glanced at the clock. "Just gettin' off work?"
"Yeah," she nodded. George came out of the back room just then, looking behind him.
"Fred, do we have any more of the Exploding-" he started, but cut himself off when he saw Ginny.
"Hello, sister of mine," he said. "What brings you to our humble business?" He grinned at her, just as Fred had done. She didn't respond for moment, thinking it was impossible to get her twin brothers down. They were perpetually happy blokes.
"Just wanted to make sure tonight is still on?"
Fred nodded. "It is. Dinner's around seven. You game?"
"Sure," Ginny replied, already cheered by Fred and George's presence. "You both are coming, right?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," George responded, rather dryly.
"Yes you would," replied Fred.
"On the contrary, Mr. Weasley, I wouldn't miss our dear mother's cooking for anything."
"But-"
"Boys!" Ginny intervened. She laughed at the brief look on their faces; she could sound remarkably like her mother when she wanted to.
"Oi, sorry Gin, forgot you were there for a moment," Fred said.
"How wonderful," Ginny said, laughing. "Alright, I'll see you two in a little while."
"See you soon, Gin," George called as Ginny exited the shop into the Alley. She looked around again, taking one last glimpse at the happy existence happening all around her, and then Disapparated to her home on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The newly installed wards, which she had forgotten about, deposited her on her bum at the end of the drive. She stood, rubbing her bottom for a moment, and then shook her head. She hadn't disagreed that wards were necessary, but she didn't think they'd needed to be so large. She approached her modest home, a small two-story structure built in the current Wizarding style, noticing several lights on. That meant Neville was already home.
She pushed open the door and crossed the threshold, calling out, "Neville?"
"Yeah, Gin?" came the reply, from the direction of the kitchen.
"Don't forget about dinner at the Burrow," she said, entering the kitchen. Her fiancé sat at the table, leaning over some Herbology books. It looked like he was creating lesson plans.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, though he was obviously preoccupied. Ginny took a moment to observe him; he had grown and filled out a bit during the past few years. He now measured in at about 6'1", 190 pounds; he had that same dark brown hair, but it was much shorter than it used to be. He was still in his Hogwarts robes.
Ginny moved to stand behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She was rather short, so she could rest her chin on the top of her head by bending only slightly. She began to knead the knots she could feel under her hands.
"Anything interesting?" she asked.
"Lesson plans for the last few weeks," he replied, relaxing into her ministrations slightly. "McGonagall's been somewhat of a bother about them lately," he continued. "Not sure why."
Ginny kissed the top of his head. An earthy scent spread through her nostrils. Neville turned slightly in his chair, looking up at her.
"How was your day?" he asked, standing up and embracing her. Her arms went around his back, and she rested her head below his; his chin now rested on her crown.
"Busy," she intoned, reveling in the feel of his body. She was so glad he had asked her to marry him…
"That bad, huh?" he asked.
She chuckled lightly. "No, not really. There weren't too many crises. Paperwork is rubbish, though." He nodded against the top of her head.
"It sure is." They were both silent for a few moments, holding each other. Ginny tightened her hold on Neville briefly.
"What is it?" he asked, clearly sensing something was off with her. She sighed, and backed out of his embrace. He leaned against the edge of the table, watching her as she leaned against the wall.
"I dunno…I was just thinking about things earlier."
"What things?" he asked.
"Voldemort…the six of us…Harry," she replied.
"What about them?" He crossed his arms over chest.
"How different do you think things would be if Harry was still here?" she asked, deciding to be blunt. "I mean, with the six of us, with my family, anyone we knew, really." Neville was silent for a moment, and she met his eyes.
"What brought this on?" he eventually replied.
"People. Life. Existence without Voldemort."
"I see…well, I don't really know Gin. We all loved-love-Harry, but it was his choice to leave."
"Yeah, I know, but I didn't really mean that. I meant if he had chosen to stay."
"Probably not much different, if you really want to know," he said, and sat down at the table again. She moved to it and sat across from him.
"We're all adults now, babe," he continued. "I think you're unspoken question is would the six of still be as close as we were?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's what I was asking."
"We would both be just as busy. So would Ron and Luna. And Hermione…" he trailed off. His face took on a contemplative look. "I'm sure she would be, too. And Harry, who knows what he would be doing…or what he's doing, really. When was the last time either of us spoke to him?"
"Last Christmas? Err…the one before, I mean," she replied.
Neville inclined his head. "Exactly. So I don't really think too much. Maybe…actually, I dunno. Where is this getting us, though? He's gone," he finished.
Ginny gave him a look. "Gone?"
"You know what I mean," he shrugged.
She sighed again. "Yeah, I guess."
"I need a shower before we kip on over to the Burrow," Neville said, after a moment. He stood up. She raised her eyes from the table, meeting his, a mischievous spark lighting her face. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I know that look, Miss Weasley."
"I need a shower too, Mr. Longbottom," she said, standing as well.
He held out his hand, smirking at her. "Shall we?" She took his hand, nodding at him.
"We shall," she answered, and let him lead her toward the loo, shedding clothes along the way.
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The Burrow was filled with commotion as the hour of dinner approached. People started arriving around 6:45, and Molly was busy in the kitchen, ensuring there was enough of her delicious food for everyone that was bound to show up. Dinners at the Burrow had become a sort of weekly tradition, with an open invitation to anyone in their large circle of family and friends. Attendance fluctuated quite a bit; sometimes there would only be ten and other times there would be near thirty. This week was shaping up to be one of the larger affairs.
Fred and George had already arrived, and were sitting in the living room, conversing with Remus, who had just arrived with Tonks and their son, William. Bill and Fleur had been there since much earlier in the day, as they were visiting from Paris. Molly was just putting the finishing touches on a dish as her husband and a familiar, though long absent, face came in through the back door.
"Charlie!" she exclaimed, rushing over to hug him. She embraced him as she did everyone-very tightly-and stepped back. He was chuckling lightly.
"Hey mum," he said, eyes twinkling. "How's everyone been?"
"Great! I didn't know you were coming home," she half-scolded, poking him in the chest. She glared at Arthur for a second, who pretended to look at something on the wall.
"Yeah well, dad and I wanted it to be a surprise. Haven't seen my family in awhile, so I thought it would be nice to come home," he responded.
"Well," Molly said, smiling, "let me have a look at you." She stepped back, sizing him up. He looked a little older, perhaps a little more careworn, but other than that, there really weren't any remarkable changes in him. Except, she noticed, with his hair.
"Better be careful, Charlie. You're going to end up as bald as your father!"
"Hey!" Arthur exclaimed, and then grinned. He leaned in and pecked her on the lips.
"Ugh!" Charlie intoned. Arthur turned to him, shaking his head.
"I think the rest of the gang, or at least those that are here so far, are in the living room. Why don't you go say hello them?" Arthur said. Charlie nodded, smiled at him and Molly, and turned to the living room. Molly smiled at the excited noises that reached her ears after Charlie had passed out of the room.
"How did he get home?" Molly asked, turning back to the food. Arthur walked over and started helping her, following her wordless directions.
"I set up an international portkey for him," he answered.
"Well, that was a nice surprise," she said, leaning into him.
"Yeah, I was sure it would be." They continued to prepare the food in silence for a few moments. Molly was almost afraid to ask the next question.
"And…Percy?" she finally just asked.
Arthur sighed. "Molly…"
"What? Don't I have a right to know about my son?"
She saw Arthur's jaw clench out of the corner her eyes. "Yes. You do. I have nothing more to say about him. He continues to refuse to come home."
Molly sighed, echoing her husband. She was beyond tears or anger over her third child. At this point, she was just resigned. There had been so much conflict between them and Percy over the years that it had ceased to upset her. She didn't know why he was being so obstinate, though. He had been removed from the Ministry long ago, yet he still refused to have anything to do with his family.
"I wonder if he'll ever-"
"Can we not talk about this tonight? It's supposed to be a happy night," Arthur interrupted her. Any other time she would have gotten annoyed at him, but she could not do so over Percy.
"Yeah. Ok," she said. A look to the clock told her that it was seven. "Where are the rest of them?" she wondered out loud.
"I'm sure they'll all be here soon enough," Arthur replied.
"Mostly," Molly replied. She was, of course, thinking about Harry. She had never told anyone but Arthur, but she missed him as one of her own sons.
"Hmm?"
"Oh, nothing," she said.
"Harry?" Arthur asked. She silently nodded. "Wishing he was here?"
"Of course," she said.
"I do, too," he responded. She shrugged, more to herself than anything. Harry had always been so kind and so polite. He was a genuinely nice person, and she knew that he had made her children better because of that. Ginny was a much warmer person, Ron was much less rebellious, and the twins had actually turned into respectable businessmen.
He was doing his own thing now, probably having a wonderful time, and she wouldn't take that away from anyone. Sometimes she wished he were still around, though, because life just seemed a little more complete with him in it. She knew that Arthur and most of the rest of her family felt the same way.
Her musings were interrupted by some loud noises from outside. She and Arthur looked at each other, smiling.
"That must be Ron," he said.
"I'm sure," Molly replied.
The kitchen door banged in and tall, lanky, red-haired Ronald Weasley strode into the room. Luna trailed behind him, a smile on her face.
"Mum! Dad! How are you?" he grinned. He put an arm over Luna's shoulder when she came up next to him.
Arthur nodded at them and Molly moved to embrace both. After doing so, she stepped back and said, "Fine, Ron. It wasn't too difficult to get time off this week?"
Ron waved her off. "Honestly mum, it was only that one time. I don't even need to ask for time off from practice anymore."
The smirk on Luna's face told Molly a different story, however. She suspected what his real difficulty had been in getting to the Burrow on time had been, but she did not say anything. She learned long ago to avoid that subject altogether with Ron.
"Well, alright. Everyone else is in the living room. Why don't you two go say hello?" Ron nodded, squeezed Luna's shoulder, and turned away.
"Thank you for having me, Molly," Luna said, and turned as well. Molly smiled at her back, and watched the two leave the room. She then turned back to the food preparation; she stopped after a moment when she noticed Arthur looking at her.
"What is it?"
"She is so polite," he said, laughing slightly.
"She is," Molly agreed. She had always loved that about Luna, even though Luna's more risqué tendencies had always puzzled her. To hear some of the other things that came out of that girl's mouth…well, she never expected it.
In her and Arthur's silence, she could hear the noise of a happy reunion coming from the next room, and she smiled.
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