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SIYE Time:23:43 on 13th August 2022


Say Farewell
By harrystwin1

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 2
Summary: A week has passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. It's time for the Wizarding World to mourn the fallen, but Ginny isn't ready to say goodbye.
Hitcount: Story Total: 704
Awards: View Trophy Room


Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights ? J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
One-shot set after the Battle of Hogwarts. This story was originally published on FanFiction.Net under my MabelReid pen name.




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It was a golden morning. The rays of the rising sun slowly penetrated the trees surrounding the Burrow. The air, crisp and clean, wafted in through the open window opposite a narrow bed. A young woman with long, fiery red hair shifted, stretched, and sat up to greet the day. Her cinnamon-tinted eyes blinked against the bright light as she blew out a huge breath.

Ginny Weasley surveyed her bedroom and swung around to sit on the edge of her bed. She straightened the nightdress she wore and shivered as the smile leftover from her pleasant dream faded.

Fred.

Ginny put her hands to her face and cried until her chest ached. Yes, Voldemort was dead, but oh the price they’d paid. Fred, Tonks and Lupin, Lavender Brown, and so many others, she couldn’t remember their names.

With another heavy sigh, Ginny pulled her legs up to her chest and lay her head on her knees as she thought about the last time she’d seen Fred, dead on the stone floor of Hogwarts, his eyes staring up at something she’d couldn’t see. Tears dripped from her eyes and scalded her cheeks. She’d cried so much in the last week that her eyes remained perpetually red and swollen.

It was only in her dreams that Ginny could let go of her grief. She dreamed that Fred was alive and playing some practical joke on her with George. Many thoughts were of the simple things like when her brothers were home for family feasts and celebrations, or quiet time, which didn’t usually happen in the Burrow.

Ginny yanked her attention from dreams and memories. It was time to rise and go down to the kitchen. She’d help her mother get breakfast for the family, and then “ she shook her head and decided not to think about what the day would bring to the family. She dressed in the muggle clothing she preferred when not at school and pulled on her shoes. She pocketed her wand, hurriedly brushed out her hair, and pulled it back into a ponytail. She studied her appearance and sighed. Hermione had taught her a charm to conceal her red eyes and cheeks, but she decided to leave it. Everyone in the family looked the same, so hiding was irrational.

Ginny pulled her door shut as quietly as she could and began to tiptoe past Bill’s old bedroom, but it was as though he knew she was awake because the door opened, and Harry stepped out into the hallway. He put his finger to his lips and inclined his head. They hurried down the stairs as quietly as they could and into the living room. There he said. “Ginny,” and opened his arms. She leaped into them and put her head on his shoulder.

Harry held her so tight, she found it hard to breathe, but for the first time since waking, she didn’t want to cry. Instead, she simply stood pressed against Harry as he stroked her hair and her back with hands that always surprised her with their gentleness. Ginny felt his breath on her neck and then felt his body tremble. She pulled back and saw that tears had welled up in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this today,” he whispered.

“I know,” she whispered back.

“I love you,” he said and kissed her softly. “I am so glad I didn’t lose you, too. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t live.”

“Oh, Harry,” she pulled him back into her arms. “W-when I thought you were d-dead!”

“Shh,” Harry soothed. “I’m here, and I plan on staying around.”

Ginny pulled back again and kissed him until an annoyed voice said. “Can’t I go anywhere in this house without running into you two, snogging?”

They yanked apart to see Ron in his pajamas with his hair standing out in disordered clumps. He was yawning and glaring at them, then he strode to them and hugged them.

“Don’t listen to me,” he said in a strained voice. “I’m glad we’re all alive.”

“Ron’s right,” said Molly, who walked into the room as though every step meant unendurable pain. “Come on,” she ushered them to the kitchen. “Let’s have something to eat and then “ well, we’ll worry about that later,” she said as she wiped away a tear.

“Can I help you, Mum,” Ginny asked quietly.

“I’d like that, dear.”

Soon, the kitchen was full of the delicious smell of sausages sizzling in the frying pan, of eggs frying in butter, and toast toasting. Molly made coffee and hot chocolate and set out the orange juice.

“Have you heard from Hermione,” Molly asked Ron?

“Yes,” Ron said. She wanted me to give everyone her love.

“That’s very kind,” Molly said as she began to portion out breakfast.

“She’s going to meet us,” Ron said. “I told her she’s welcome for breakfast, but she said this is family time.

“She is family,” Ginny protested.

“I told her so, but she insisted that we have the morning together.”

“Well,” Molly said, as George, Percy, and Arthur entered the kitchen together. “That is considerate, but I’ll talk to her later.”

George sat between Harry and his father. His expression bore the weight of the last week he’d spent without his twin. He kept looking around as if he expected Fred to walk in at any moment; then, he’d sigh, wipe away a tear and focus on his plate.

Harry caught Ginny’s eyes, and she tried to smile, but it was too painful. Mealtimes at the Burrow were somber affairs, and Harry wondered if they’d ever go back to the cheerful gatherings, they’d once been in years past. No, nothing would ever be the same again, and he’d have to get used to the changes in all of their lives.

After their quiet meal, and after Molly set the kitchen to clean itself, they separated to dress. Ginny climbed the stairs slowly. If she took her time, then maybe, just maybe she’d wake and find it all a terrible nightmare. However, when she reached her bedroom door and went inside, the realization that she wasn’t dreaming hit like a blow to the gut. Instead of crying, rage burned in her chest. Why didn’t Harry finish Voldemort before Fred’s death? Why hadn’t someone done something about Voldemort years ago before he could hurt anyone? Why didn’t Dumbledore realize what Tom Riddle would become? Dumbledore was supposed to be a magical genius.

Ginny collapsed on her bed and cried until she finally sat up and told herself sternly to pull it together, get dressed, and face what awaited her. She stood, crossed to her wardrobe, and pulled out the black robes she had to wear.

Harry was waiting for her when she descended the stairs. He watched her with the beautiful green eyes she loved. His expression tightened, and he held out his hand. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, but I wish ““

“I know,” Harry said quietly. “We’ll get through this together.”

“What happens afterward, Harry? How do we say goodbye and then “ go on?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I’m going to miss everyone we lost, but I think we have to go on because Fred would tell us off if we all gave up.”

“Yeah, I can hear him telling us all to stop moping about and enjoy life,” Ginny said as a tear slowly tracked down her cheek.

Harry nodded his head and tugged her gently forward. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Ginny swallowed hard and straightened to her full height. Her parents, her brothers, and Harry needed her. She would be there for them. She would say farewell, and then she would take life one moment at a time and live it to honor the ones that fell in defense of goodness and light.



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