A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. I cannot thank you enough actually! It's what inspired me to write this chapter, and though a filler more than anything, it'll get me writing the next one as I want to keep going now. I may give you a preview of the next chapter at the end of this though :D
Enjoy, and reviews love, love, loved!
Chapter Three: I Could Use a Dream or a Genie or a Wish.
January 2nd 2008
Hermione strokes her friends hair silently, providing a comfort that Ginny is thankful for. Their eyes glued to the television, breathing calm and minds occupied, Ginny welcomes the minute relief she's getting. It seems she's able to breathe for a little while, sitting in the company of her best friend.
Lately, her family has been taking shifts in staying with her. Ron had left a few hours ago, and Ginny had been thankful for his leave. Not the most tactful or emotionally in tuned person, he had just ranted on for twenty minutes about incessant things, and had mentioned her husband and asked about how she was several times before stumbling over himself and changing the subject. It had been entertaining at parts, but for most of the time, she just felt sad. Her brother couldn't even talk to her now.
Due to the position of her head in Hermione's lap, Ginny's shook from her thoughts when Hermione laughs at the programme on television. Although she wants to laugh at the characters complete absurdness, Ginny feels like she shouldn't. Like it's not right.
He can't laugh, he'll never laugh again. And this makes her guilty for even smiling sometimes.
'Friends' continues to play as Ginny drifts off into her thoughts again. She spent most of her time in her thoughts now days, keeping her words to a minimum. She's aware that her mother is extremely worried with her lack of communication, but Ginny just needs to grieve. She needs to take time away from her family, from smiling, laughing, joking, entertaining and gossiping.. And Hermione seems to be the only person she could just be with.
Sighing softly, Ginny wishes she could turn back time, not for the first time in the last two weeks. Every second ticked by painfully, every minute cutting her in half. The hours seemed to rip her to shreds until she became numb to the days passing.
She wants everything to stop. For time to pause and acknowledge her grief, perhaps allow her to catch up with it. To make peace with it.
Ginny wants the world to stop and look, to realise there's a very important person missing from the world and that he'll never be back again. She wants the shops to close, the people to mourn, the birds to stop singing, the sun to stop rising, the stars to stop shining..
She wants life to stop. But, to her utter dismay, no one listens or realises this aching pain she feels. Ginny can barely stand to look outside and see the happy, smiling faces of her neighbours. She wants to scream when she see's anyone in her family joking and laughing, and this in turn makes her feel guilty. Because she shouldn't begrudge them their happiness.
Guilt.
It consumes her at every turn, eating her and rotting away at her heart. Everything Ginny does seems to make her feel guilty in some way, and so sometimes, she just bears with the heavy and uneasy feeling in her chest and stomach, and does what she wants. Granted, it's rare these days that Ginny even knows what she wants, but there are occurrences.
"Ginny?" Hermione whispers softly, shaking her friend out of her light slumber. "Ginny, come on to bed."
Ginny whimpers, "He--he wasn't supposed to go, Hermione. He wasn't supposed to."
Hermione sighs mournfully, then shifts position so that she can wrap her arms around Ginny. "I know. But sometimes, life deals us an unfair hand, and you have to just try and make do with it. Try and cope."
"But--but its so hard," Her voice breaks, and Hermione thinks her heart nearly breaks along with it.
She stands then, pulling Ginny up with her and supporting her as they walk to Ginny's room. Well, it's the guest room as she can barely look at her and Dean's old room, let alone sleep in it. Hermione pushes Ginny gently down onto the bed, then takes the younger girls hands. "You will make it through, Gin. I promise. I won't let you wilt away, okay?"
"I'm not afraid of that." Ginny insists, shaking her head. The drowsiness seeps into her voice, and Hermione just smiles sadly in response.
"Well c'mon then, into bed." She tucks Ginny in as if she were a little girl, and Hermione supposes that, in some ways, Ginny is. She's as vulnerable as a child, as easily shaken and needs someone to look out for her. Hermione resolves to look out for her at all costs; she won't let her best friend down.
Hermione kisses her softly on the cheek before walking downstairs, feeling the strain of the day finally getting to her.
She'd go home now, and someone else would be there for Ginny in the morning when she woke up. Hermione supposes that they should allow Ginny some time alone, some independence. But they all feel she's too vulnerable, and although she does spend time on her own in the house, someone is always in the vicinity.
Ginny refuses to leave the house, too, so it makes it a lot easier. Though not less stressful, and a lot more worrying. It's not good to be locked up in a house all day, but all the prodding in the world can't to budge Ginny, who definitely has the Weasley stubborn nature.
Hermione doesn't know how she's going to manage for work in the morning, especially with the troubled clients she has lined up tomorrow. After the war, Hermione had gone to college and achieved her degree in psychology, and became a qualified councillor. Then being offered a position in the Department of Law in the Ministry, Hermione almost jumped at the opportunity. She would be able to impact the Wizarding world in a big world, and changes would be made much more easily if she were in the integral part of the Ministry.
However, after witnessing and hearing about one too many breakdowns, Hermione realised that there was a severe lack of mental help for witches and wizards. Psychology was not as practiced in the wizarding world as it was in the muggle world, though there were a few doctors that helped patients and offered counselling, there were no practices and nothing like what should have been there. And so, her counselling practice was born.
It had taken years for it to really get off the ground, but Hermione managed it, and now there is queues to get an appointment with her. She's run off her feet with the amount of patients, but Hermione wouldn't trade it for anything.
As she floo's home, Hermione dreams of a warm bath and her cosy bed. But, Hermione thinks, a bath is a lot of effort that she doesn't have right now. Perhaps bed is the way to go.
Her living room is empty when she gets home, though the lamp is on. She frowns; usually Harry is waiting for her when she gets home. Walking into the kitchen, Hermione continues to search for her husband. "Harry?"
She hears footsteps coming form upstairs then, and feels stupid for not checking upstairs. Although, he never left the lights on… It was probably out of courtesy that he did.
"You're home," He announces, smiling at her. She instantly walks up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his chest. She inhales deeply, relishing the comfort of Harry's familiar smell. Hermione doesn't know what she would do if Harry were to pass away - she can't even bear to say the 'd' word - and automatically clutches him tighter.
Harry frowns, "Are you okay?"
Hermione nods into his chest, "Yes. Just tired. Emotionally exhausted, too."
He pulls back, searching her eyes for a moment, as if not believing what she said was true. Hermione laughs softly, "I'm serious. I'm just tired!"
He smiles, but then it's gone just as quickly. "How's Ginny?"
Hermione's upbeat expression also fades, to be replaced with a worn and sad one. "The same. She talks a little more, but not very much. I'll go to see her tomorrow again. Hopefully, I can get her to talk more and more… Until I can get a real conversation with her,"
"Well, until then, I've got a warm bath prepared for you.. With all that lavender stuff, the way you like it." He scrunches his nose a little at the 'lavender stuff' but still smiles.
"Oh, Harry." Hermione beams, and feels a burst of love for her husband.
How did she ever get so lucky?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Four Preview:
"So, where do you want to start today?"
He quirks an eyebrow, "Isn't that your job to decide? Is that not what I'm paying for?"
"I thought we could shake things up a little today," She smiles, looking expectantly at him. "I always start, now it's your turn."
"This is ridiculous," He sighs, rolling his eyes. He picks at some imaginary dust on his black slacks.
"Now it's your turn." She repeats, and with another overdone and dramatic sigh, he gives in.
"I suppose I'll start with yesterday, then…"
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So there we go, a little preview until next time ;) Again, reviews loved. Oh and the chapter title is from the song "Airplanes" by B.o.B feat. Haley Williams. Great song, but I don't own it or Harry Potter.
Thanks for reading!
xCNx