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The World Turned Right Side Up | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, General, Romance, Tragedy Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 259 Summary: With Voldemort gone and a world no longer in fear Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione begin to move on with their lives, only to find that happily ever after is just beyond the horizon. Hitcount: Story Total: 165524; Chapter Total: 4948 Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in updating. Real life happened, and found me without internet for the better part of a week as I was out of town. That being said, I owe a world of gratitude to my wonderful Beta Ginny Guerra and all of her hard work. Also, for every person that leaves a review or comment, I just want to say thank you again. They are a great motivation to keep writing. Without further delay, here is the latest chapter, I hope you enjoy it. As always, please leave your reviews and comments. |
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Ginny closed her eyes for a moment while she let the air sweep through her hair as she flew in a straight line. It felt good to be on a broom and flying once again. It seemed as though it had been forever since she last got the chance to do it. As relaxing as flying was, though, Ginny couldn’t help but feel something was missing. Truthfully, something was missing — Harry. Even though he had said he needed to take a walk and clear his mind, Ginny couldn’t help but be concerned for him. The hurt and uncertainty she had seen in his eyes had been weighing heavily on her in the few hours since he had set out. Upon telling Hermione and Ron that Harry was not going to join them flying, and that he was going to take a walk, Ginny had been forced to be rather blunt when they began to voice their desires to go see about their friend. “We need to make sure he’s ok,” Hermione blurted out as though Ginny was a child and couldn’t understand the concept. “I bloody well know that, Hermione,” came her response quite tersely and with enough venom that the bushy haired woman before her knew she had stomped her way onto thin ice. “He’s not bloody ok, but he’s not going to do anything ruddy stupid. He wanted to be alone and think. I trust him, and know he’ll be back.” When she had spoken those words, though, Ginny thought Harry’s walk might last an hour or so. It had now been almost three and he was still gone. While she knew that Harry would keep his word and be back, she began to worry, if only to herself, that perhaps he was a little worse off than she had initially assumed. Opening her eyes, she once more took control of the broom and turned it back around, aiming it towards where she saw Ron circling in the distance. As she approached, it was obvious that Ron was worried himself. Drawing nearer, she watched her brother stop and simply hover in the air on his broom, absent mindedly tossing a Quaffle up into the air, only to catch it and repeat the process. Upon pulling to a halt alongside Ron, Ginny nudged him gently, shaking him out of his introspection. Snapping his head to the side to see who had interrupted him caused Ron to miss the Quaffle as it passed beside his hand. Chancing a look down, Ron did not bother to try to chase after it and instead let it fall to the ground. With a soft thud, the Quaffle smacked into the ground and remained there. “Hey!” Hermione shouted up at the pair, “Watch it with that thing. You nearly hit me!” Ron again glanced down to note that, in fact, the Quaffle had landed rather close to Hermione, assuming one considered three feet to be close. Nonetheless, she had been more occupied reading a book and was not paying attention to what was going on around her, so it was reasonable that she might be surprised or alarmed by something hitting the ground so near her. “Sorry,” Ron called out half heartedly, which only earned him a glare in response. Shaking his head, he looked back up to Ginny and noticed her to also be lost in her own mind. Reaching a tentative hand out, Ron touched his sister’s forearm and saw her eyes quickly fix on him. “He’ll be alright,” Ron offered softly. Ginny sighed before responding, “I know… it’s… he’s been gone for a while now. I thought he’d be back after he let off a bit of steam… You know?” Ron smiled softly back at his sister. He knew she was worried more about what Harry was thinking than what Harry could be doing. Harry, after all, could easily take care of himself, and wouldn’t do anything too stupid. As he considered what to say next, Ron couldn’t help but smirk to himself. Very rare were the situations where he was the once being called upon to give words of insight or wisdom, but looking at his sister, this was exactly one of those occasions. “I know,” he said softly as he squeezed her arm gently, “But sometimes we just have more steam to blow off than others.” He said nothing else but let his words sink in. A few moments later, Ginny nodded to herself in agreement, before glancing up and directly into Ron’s eyes. “Yeah, you’re right…” she trailed off softly. Knowing that there was nothing else to say, Ron realized just how little fun he was having on the broom. A quick look at Ginny confirmed she was having even less. “Hey,” he interjected, “How’s ‘bout we get off these brooms and get something to drink. Maybe go have a seat with Hermione and then, if Harry isn’t back in an hour or so, we’ll all go find him?” Ginny seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment, before smiling softly and breaking away from him and guiding her broom to the ground beside Hermione. Seeing that she had taken him up on his suggestion, Ron quickly followed suit and a moment later was standing on the ground beside his sister. He held out his hand, and took her broom from her. Silently he began to walk over to the broom shed to stow the brooms as Hermione closed her book and began to stand. Just as Ron reached the broom shed and opened the door, he heard a loud “Boom!” and felt the ground shake under his feet. Turning to look at Ginny and Hermione, he could tell they had heard and felt the same things too. Confused looks filled all of their faces as Molly and Arthur both soon appeared out of the Burrow as well. Walking quickly towards Ginny, Hermione and his parents, Ron saw black billowing smoke rising in the distance. A sudden feeling of foreboding overcame him as he saw Hermione turn to look at where his eyes were focused. As he finally reached the group, everyone was looking at the ominous smoke, when suddenly Ginny cried out, “HARRY!” The next few moments turned into a blur, as Ginny quickly became a hysterical blur of red as she tried to make a frantic rush to run towards the smoke. Through sobs, shouts and quite a few elbows, Ron and Arthur were finally able to wrestle Ginny to the ground. Having no better idea how to calm Ginny and figure out what was going on, Hermione stepped forward. “I’m so sorry, Gin,” she whispered to the still struggling and sobbing redhead. Raising her wand, Hermione quickly recited the incantation and cast a calming charm over Ginny. For a moment, it did not appear to work, but slowly Ginny began to calm. Her struggling subsided and soon she was sobbing softly. Feeling it finally safe to relax their holds, Ron and Arthur slowly backed off. Ginny, no longer in total hysterics, remained on the ground for a moment before Arthur carefully reached down and took hold of her. Lifting his daughter slowly and cautiously to her feet, then pulling her into a tight hug, Arthur held her for a moment before trying to make some sense of her outburst. Finally feeling a bit of the tension ease from her body, Arthur slowly put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Ginny,” he spoke softly and with all the concern a father has for a distressed daughter, “What’s wrong? Do you know what’s happened?” Taking a moment for a deep breath, Ginny let out one last ragged sob before shaking her head, “No… b-b-b-but, H-H-H-Harry…he… he was walking towards the village.” A collective gasp rang out as all eyes once more focused on the huge cloud of smoke that was slowly trailing away from the village. “Everyone inside, now!” Arthur ordered as he began to lead Ginny towards the house. Any opposition that might have been voiced had been immediately suppressed by the forceful tone of his voice. Immediately, everyone followed Arthur into the house as he sat Ginny down in a chair in the living room. Looking to Molly, he inclined his head towards Ginny. Nodding her understanding, she went over to her daughter and began to talk quietly with her. Ron and Hermione stood momentarily stunned by what had transpired. As Arthur strode purposefully away from Ginny and Molly, Hermione began to speak, “We need…” but was cut off by Arthur raising his hand. The look on his face was obvious. He did not want or need anyone trying to tell him what to do. Arthur all too well understood what had most likely happened, and while his current actions and exterior might not have showed it, he was terrified. The past few months at the Ministry had taught him all too well the destructive capacity of the evil they were facing, and it also left him with little hope of being able to survive were that evil to come towards the Burrow. Arthur felt his stomach tighten as he thought briefly about Harry. The young man was as good as his own son, and if there was anyone capable of surviving, it would be Harry. That being said, however, Arthur also had his wife, son, daughter and Hermione to worry about right now and couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. Harry, whether alive or dead, needed help, but it was something that they just couldn’t do without more support. Having made his mind up about what needed to be done before even getting back inside the Burrow, Arthur came to a stop just in front of the Floo. Grabbing a handful of powder and tossing it into the fireplace, Arthur shouted, “Minister of Magic’s Office!” His head disappeared into the flames for a few brief moments, before he re-emerged and quickly stepped back. For Ron and Hermione, it was obvious he was anticipating someone coming through the Floo, but the wait seemed to take an eternity. What in reality was only a few seconds, finally passed as the fireplace roared to life with a burst of green flames and an instant later Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing before them. Taking no time to offer greetings, Shacklebolt addressed Arthur, “Every Auror we can spare, and most that we can’t, will be arriving shortly. Healers are also being summoned from St. Mungo’s and the hospital is now on full alert expecting the worst.” Arthur nodded his understanding. So many times within the past few months, he had found Shacklebolt and himself being summoned to the site of an attack, but it was never with the urgency or the dire repercussions that this moment presented. Were Arthur to allow himself to think, he would have admitted himself wanting nothing more than to run straight to the village once he had notified Kingsley. Tense moments passed as everyone waited for the Aurors and other reinforcements to arrive. Numerous times Shacklebolt began to address Arthur, only to snap his mouth shut and begin pacing. For Ron and Hermione, the entire scene was almost surreal. As more and more time passed, Ron knew that something was seriously wrong. At the first sign of trouble, Harry would have returned if he could. Now it had been nearly twenty minutes since they had heard the massive explosion and seen the smoke, and Harry had not returned. While he had initially assumed that Harry was in some way involved with the explosion, Ron had not let the full gravity of the situation settle upon him. As more time passed, though, Ron quickly began to contemplate just exactly what all the current evidence indicated. Exchanging a troubled glance with Hermione, Ron finally let himself admit the all too real possibility that Harry might be in a lot more trouble than even he could handle. Yet even more time passed as Ginny began to shift impatiently in the chair. Amazingly, she had remained quiet since her initial outburst, but the progression of time brought with it more concern for her. Molly continued talking softly to Ginny, offering her hope and comfort as even the matron of the Weasley family began to allow herself to consider the possibility of Harry not returning. Molly knew the love and concern Harry had for his friends. If he wasn’t directly involved with whatever happened in the village, Molly knew he would have first off Apparated as close to the Burrow as possible and then ran the remainder in order to check that they were safe. His continued absence told her that, at the least, he was hurt or unconscious and at the absolute worst — well, she wouldn’t allow her mind to go there again. She had already lost one son, and she’d be damned if she lost another. Steeling her jaw, Molly rose and turned her attention away from Ginny for a moment and peered at Arthur and Kingsley. Both men wore heavily troubled expressions, but Molly’s concern was that of a mother for a son, and she was tired of waiting. It had been nearly half an hour now since the sound that had launched this whole horrible nightmare and she refused to wait any longer. Opening her mouth to speak, Molly was interrupted before she could utter a word as the fireplace one more erupted with green flames. The head of Minerva McGonagall sat looking from the fire into the room. “Ginny,” the headmistresses voiced called out, “Ginny, Harry’s here at Hogwarts.” A blur of red hair was all that could be seen as Ginny seemingly flung herself from the chair over to the fireplace. “Is… is he…” Ginny began but could not finish. McGonagall, realizing the desperation in Ginny’s voice minced no words, “Ginny, he’s alive, but it’s not good. Poppy is doing her best, and she says she thinks he’ll pull through, but he’s been through a lot.” Ginny nodded her understanding, but everyone in the room could see her body relax with relief. Turning back to her family and then looking directly to Ron and Hermione she spoke softly, “At least he’s alive.” As the concept gradually sank in to everyone else in the room, the tension level substantially decreased. Everyone shared relieved glances. Suddenly the sounds of people Apparating just outside the house filled the room, and Shacklebolt walked over to the window. “About bloody time,” he spoke to no one in particular as he opened the door and made his way outside. Arthur, turning to his family began to speak, “Alright, now that help is here, we can actually consider going to the village.” He looked directly at Ron and Hermione first, and then over to Ginny and Molly. “I don’t expect there will be much to find, but you are welcome to come if you want.” Without hesitation, Ginny answered, “I’m going to Hogwarts.” Shaking their heads in agreement, Ron and Hermione also indicated their intentions to go and be with Harry. As Arthur turned to look at Molly, he saw her once more embracing their daughter. The look in her eyes said that she would go with their children. Pursing his lips and gathering his resolve, Arthur spoke softly, “I’ve got to go to the village. We’ll help those we can, but I imagine there’s not much we can do. I’ll be along to Hogwarts as soon as I can.” With that, he walked over, hugged Molly and Ginny and then nodded to Ron and Hermione, before making his way out the same door Shacklebolt had left hanging open. As Arthur disappeared through the door, Ginny turned her attention back to the headmistress, whose head was still peering out of the fireplace. “We’re coming over,” she stated more than asked, as McGonagall nodded in response and her face disappeared from the flames. *** Save for the echoes of her shoes against the stone floor of the castle, silence reigned throughout the hospital ward as Madam Pomfrey quietly approached the bed where Harry lay. To say that she had been surprised when Fawkes and Harry arrived in a burst of flames would be an understatement. As she began to round once more on the young man for his foolish actions, though, she was cut short as she watched the phoenix gently grasp Harry in its talons and carefully lower his limp body to the ground. Instantly recognizing that something was very wrong, Madam Pomfrey began to do what she could for him. In the moments immediately after Harry and Fawkes’s arrival, that meant removing Harry’s clothes and standing aside so that the phoenix could use its tears to heal as much damage as quickly as possible. Watching Fawkes work, she could only be amazed at how rapid and effective the tears were. Being a healer, she of course knew about the power of phoenix tears, but with them being such rare magical creatures, it was not a common place thing for someone to see a phoenix in person, let alone the actual first hand healing power of the tears. Where there had once been a massive penetrating wound in Harry’s leg, she now only saw a reddened irritation. It was the wound on Harry’s chest, though, what Madam Pomfrey found to be most concerning. Fawkes had used tears on that wound for many minutes before it finally flew aside to let her take a look. Even with all the help, the young man’s chest was still very raw and irritated. A simple diagnostic charm told her that his lungs and diaphragm did not look much better either. His breaths were shallow and sometimes he would pause a little longer than she though acceptable before the next breath. Having no clue as to what spell he had been hit with, she was afraid of trying any specific treatments and instead was relying on more general means of treatment. Applying her years of experience and intuition, Madam Pomfrey felt Harry’s lungs themselves were most likely irritated and inflamed. Although Fawkes’s tears had been a tremendous help, and had most likely fixed the greatest extent of the damage, the fact remained that the delicate tissue of Harry’s lungs would have to heal on its own. Doing her best to aid the process, she finally decided to set up a small bubbling cauldron beside Harry’s bed. From the cauldron, a mild minty aroma filled the room, along with an obvious heaviness in the air. The intent was for the potion to be breathed into Harry’s lungs and help alleviate the inflammation. After the potion was in place for a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey noticed an obvious improvement in Harry. He was still unconscious, but his breathing was regular and he now seemed more to be sleeping. Letting out a soft sigh, she began to make her way back towards her office to rest for a moment. She would need to check on Harry again in a few minutes, but the amount of stress caring for him in such an acute state meant she needed to rest when she could. Looking up to Fawkes, who had perched at the head of Harry’s bed, Madam Pomfrey spoke, “I’m going to step into my office for a moment.” She watched the phoenix carefully for a moment before a shrill of sorrow filled the room. Madam Pomfrey soon found herself at the edge of tears before the song gradually began to transition and she found herself feeling uplifted and hopeful. Smiling in gratitude to Fawkes, she turned and began to walk toward her office. Whatever respite Madam Pomfrey may have found in her office, remained a mystery however, because just as she reached her door, the door to the hospital ward swung loudly open and a blur of red came rushing into the room. Even though she was only half the distance to Harry’s bed as compared to the entrance to the ward, Madam Pomfrey found herself being the last to reach the bed by far. Paying little attention to anything around her, Ginny quickly sat of the side of the bed, taking Harry’s hand in her own and began to absent mindedly brush her fingers through his hair. Turning to look at Madam Pomfrey, the haunted look of her eyes caused the aged mediwitch to pause. “How is he?” Ginny softly asked as she turned her attention once more to Harry. Madam Pomfrey paused for a moment, beyond Ginny’s, every other set of eyes in the room were focused solely upon her. She felt the intensity of the gazes, and were she not used to the raw emotion that was often associated with seeing a loved one so grievously injured, she would have quickly withered and ran away from the stares. “He’s going to make it…” she began softly, “…but he was hurt very badly. His lungs were hurt from some type of spell he took to his chest. Actually his whole chest was hurt, but now it’s just his lungs. He needs time to heal. He needs time to rest.” “But how?” Hermione questioned. “If the spell hit him in the chest, and was so severe, how is it that his chest looks completely fine?” she continued as she moved up the other side of the bed and then cautiously moved back the bed sheets so as display Harry’s bare, unmarred chest. “Phoenix tears,” Madam Pomfrey answered. “But where did you get phoenix tears?” Molly asked. As Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to respond, the phoenix that had been waiting quietly at the head of the bed finally shrilled a song of relief causing everyone to turn startled towards the source of the song. “Fawkes?” Hermione questioned. “Blimey!” Ron added. Again the phoenix shrilled a response and continued as the song morphed into one of compassion and support. Ginny’s eyes locked onto the phoenix’s. Without her saying a word, Fawkes seemed to understand her gratitude as yet another song rang out, filling Ginny with hope. Suddenly feeling much better than she had in the past little while, Ginny let the faintest sign of a smile break out across her lips. Taking a small breath and holding it to firmly set her composure, Ginny turned once more and addressed Madam Pomfrey by asking, “So what is it that can be done?” Moving around the bed, Madam Pomfrey stood before the bubbling cauldron. “As for physical injuries, there are none left for me to treat,” she began compassionately, “Fawkes’s tears healed all the outward wounds on his chest and a puncture to his leg. What is left, though, are some very irritated lungs.” Pausing for a moment to point towards the bubbling cauldron, she continued her explanation, “I am boiling this potion so that it begins to disperse in the air. Harry should breath in the vapor of the potion and it should help his lungs heal and calm down.” Ginny sat blankly for a moment, looking at Harry. No one in the room spoke as she turned over in her mind all the events that lay before her. Finally releasing a sigh, she spoke, “So it’s just a matter of waiting for him to wake up.” Her eyes never left Harry, nor did she seem expect a response from anyone. “Yes,” Madam Pomfrey spoke softly. “It won’t hurt him if I lay with him, then,” Ginny stated, her eyes finally looking up, glancing quickly to her mum first and then to Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey’s breath caught with a slight gasp at the first recognition of Ginny’s request. Students sitting with their friends or significant others was one thing, but what Ginny was blatantly stating just didn’t seem appropriate. Madam Pomfrey’s answer did not come right away, though, because she continued to look at Harry and Ginny both. Casting a cautious glance over to Molly, Madam Pomfrey was amazed to see the Weasley matriarch sitting calmly. Understanding the reason for the healer’s glance, Molly smiled softly and slightly inclined her head indicating that she understood Ginny’s not so subtle request and did not disapprove. Turning her attention once more back to Ginny, Madam Pomfrey continued to weigh the request in her mind. Yes, they may still be young, but Ginny’s eyes showed an age and maturity far beyond the young woman’s natural years. Understanding that the couple that was before her could not be treated like a normal couple their age, she smiled softly, “He’ll be fine.” With that said, she turned to look at Molly once more. “I’m going to be in my office if any of you need me. I’ll come check in a little later,” she finished as she turned left the group there to watch over Harry. *** What had began for Arthur Weasley as a day to see his family and escape for just a brief moment the terror that had seized hold of both wizarding and Muggle Britain, had in fact become the exact opposite. The last attack had not only hit too close to home, it had in fact been literally just outside his door. Add to it the fact that those he loved and cared for were now directly involved, and there was little that could be said or done to alleviate his fear and anxiety. What had happened to Ottery St. Catchpole was beyond comprehension. Where a once vibrant, yet small village had stood was now piles of rubble. Not one building in the main square of the town had been left standing. Luckily, as Arthur, Shacklebolt and the Aurors had sorted through the rubble, they found that, unlike so many times in the past, whoever had done this was too focused on something else. Unlike all of the other previous attacks, this time the man’s focus seemed to be targeted towards one lone individual and most of the bystanders had been able to escape with their lives. After careful interrogation of numerous eye witnesses, Arthur and Shacklebolt had been able to determine that the man had in fact apparently appeared and targeted Harry directly. From piecing together numerous accounts, Arthur was horrified, yet impressed that Harry had been able to survive. The fact that almost no one could report seeing Harry do anything even remotely magical until the very end of the fight, told Arthur just how sudden and how powerful Harry’s attacker was - though he didn’t need the confirmation, he had seen the man’s prior handiwork. It made Arthur’s stomach drop to realize that Harry, a young man who had spent his entire life battling dark wizards and had been in training for the past few months to battle this wizard in particular, would seemingly fare so poorly. Then again, Harry had done something that Arthur knew of no other person that had directly confronted this man — he survived. It was with that thought echoing in his mind that Arthur now made his way towards the hospital ward at Hogwarts. He had heard nothing about Harry since McGonagall’s head had appeared in his fireplace earlier in the day, but now that his work was complete, it was time to be with his family. Hastening his pace, in part to keep utter exhaustion from claiming him, Arthur came to the doors leading to the ward. Realizing the late hour, Arthur quietly and deliberately opened the door. His eyes quickly scanning the dark room, he saw a mass of people on the far end of the ward. As he approached them, Arthur appreciated that everyone was asleep, having claimed an empty bed for themselves — everyone except for Ginny. As he stood before Harry’s bed, Arthur looked at his daughter, to see the exhaustion in her eyes. She wearily returned his gaze for a moment before going back to looking over Harry. Arthur watched as she lay in the bed beside Harry, her head propped on one arm while softly caressing his hand in hers. She said nothing or made no other movements, but Arthur could tell every ounce of strength she had, she was willing to Harry, wanting him to wake up, praying for him to get better. Hmmm. Why isn’t she lying in bed with him? “How is he?” Arthur’s voice was so soft that not even Molly in the bed beside Harry could have heard it. Ginny let out an exhausted breath before looking to her dad. “He’s alive…” she spoke, her voice just as soft as his. “Madam Pomfrey says he’ll make it, just that his lungs are a bit inflamed and it’s going to take some time for him to wake up.” “How did he…” Arthur let his voice trail off without finishing the question. That had in fact been the million galleon question for Arthur, Shacklebolt and the Aurors, as no one in the village had seen how Harry escaped. Some reported seeing him one instant and the next instant there being only a ball of flames, but coming from the mouths of Muggles, many conclusions could not be drawn. “Fawkes,” Ginny responded plainly. “Fawkes was there and flamed Harry away before that bastard could kill him.” All the bitterness and anger within Ginny found its way into her words as she literally spat them out. “Fawkes’s tears helped heal the worst of Harry’s wounds. We just have to wait for him to wake up. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t know exactly what spells he was hit with, so she doesn’t want to try anything that could have adverse effects against him, so we’re having to rely a lot on Harry’s own magic to help him heal.” A long silence fell over Arthur and Ginny as he watched her with Harry. With all he had seen that day, he felt compelled to let Ginny know how much he cared for Harry and her, as well as how scared he was for what was to come, but the words would not come. Looking at his daughter, a lump caught in his throat and he found himself unable to speak. The woman before him was a far cry from the little girl that once came running to him seeking comfort and shelter from the pranks and annoyances of her older brothers. Seeing her now, he saw strength in her that only a few could dream of. Knowing the way she looked at Harry though, he knew the source of her strength — love. Approaching her, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Almost immediately he was struck with how tense she was. Rubbing her back for a moment, he could sense a question hanging in the air. Something unspoken that she was contemplating whether she should ask or not. Finally, having made her decision, he heard her voice no more than a whisper, “W-W-W-What about the village?” Arthur lowered his head, remembering the sights and sounds. “Gone,” he replied with one word. He heard a gasp come from Ginny as she turned to look at him. Her eyes were wide with surprise and shock. “Gone?” she asked. “The explosion we heard, it must have been what happened after Harry escaped,” Arthur began to explain. “From those that survived, it seems that whoever did this was targeting Harry from the get go. It was only after Harry escaped that he evidently destroyed the town out of rage.” Ginny just lowered her head. For a long moment, she didn’t move or say anything, and then Arthur felt her body shudder. Soon he heard the muffled sound of sobs coming from his daughter. Reaching down and pulling her up into his arms, he held her for a moment. Arthur himself couldn’t help crying either. Crying for the pain, hurt and fear he knew she must feel. Crying for the young man that lay in the bed, having been so lucky to have survived what transpired earlier. For a long time, he held Ginny, both crying quietly. It had been a long time since Arthur had seen his daughter cry, excluding Fred’s funeral. As he began to dry his tears, he thought back about his little girl. In reality, only a very few people had ever been witness to her tears. Growing up in a house full of boys meant that tears were not frequently seen from Ginny. Granted, she knew when and how to use her tears to bend her brothers to her will, but beyond that, Ginny was a very strong willed woman. When she cried, if she cried, she made it a point not to do it in front of a lot of people. Arthur knew Molly and he were the only people she really ever let see her cry for real. Even the way she was with Harry, he wasn’t certain if she was to the point she would let him see her that vulnerable just yet, but then again, with all that they were facing, he knew she probably wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of being able to cry for fear of what it might do to Harry. Holding his daughter now, comforting her, Arthur realized it was probably the first time she had let herself be vulnerable with him since right after the Chamber of Secrets. Pushing aside all of those horrid memories, he held her close to him. How long she cried, he couldn’t say, but eventually, her sobs became less, and finally disappeared. It was another long moment before she raised her head and looked at him. With a subdued smile she spoke softly, “Thank you, Daddy.” From behind her bloodshot and swollen eyes, he could tell she meant it as well. “Feel better?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Yes...” she answered first, then furrowing her brow “No…” and finally summated with, “Maybe…” Arthur could only smile knowingly at her. Truth to be told, he knew that the answer was all three. Finally putting his years of life and experience to use, he took her hand and helped her understand, “You’re right in one,” he began as he chuckled at her confused expression, “or rather, you’re right in all three answers. You feel better because you know Harry will be alright, but you’re not really better because part of you knows this was just the beginning. There’s still another part of you, though, the part that gives you your strength and makes you who you are that knows Harry’s done this before, and you, Ron and Hermione won’t quit on him.” Ginny looked at her father thoughtfully for a moment. She gave him a hint of a smile before once more laying down and turning her attention back to Harry. Touching her shoulder once more, Arthur stepped away over towards the bed that held his wife. After a quick, “Goodnight,” he anticipated collapsing into one of the empty beds himself. As bad as today had been, he could only expect tomorrow and the foreseeable future to be much worse. |
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