Unaffected

Ginny had finally finished with all of her patients and began pulling pins out of her hair. She removed her cap and sat it neatly on the corner of her desk, then pulled the remaining pins out of her hair, letting the copper waves fall around her shoulders. She combed her fingers through her tresses quickly, trying to maintain some semblance of order, then tucked her cap into her top desk drawer. Living near Hermione for so long at Hogwarts had rubbed off on her. Then again, living with Harry afterwards had gone against everything Hermione had ever shown her about cleanliness. She smiled to herself as she moved out of her office and turned to lock the door behind her. When she turned around, she found herself looking into a pair of silvery eyes framed by white-blonde hair.

"Weasley!" he hissed. She smoothed out the front of her uniform and met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Actually, it's Potter now," she informed him, attempting to move past him. "And my shift just ended, so if you'll excuse me." He stepped in front of her, and she forced herself to take a calming breath without letting him see her do it.

"Potter, is it?" he smirked. "Well, Potter, I need to talk to you." Ginny stopped and nodded.

"Alright. Stop on the way out and make an appointment with my secretary." She sidestepped him and began walking down the hallway, her long legs moving quickly. She hadn't seen Lily all day, and was anxious to get back to her. Draco stared after her in surprise, then sprinted to catch up to her.

"Did you just tell me to make an appointment?" he asked, not bothering to mask his surprise. She nodded hastily and smiled at her secretary, Violet.

"Mr. Malfoy would like to make an appointment to speak to me."

"Counseling?" Malfoy's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"Absolutely not!" he protested, arching an eyebrow. He turned back to Ginny, who was already halfway down the hallway, and turned to catch up with her. "I'm going to speak to you right now!" She turned and gave him a cool stare.

"I know this concept is foreign to you, Mr. Malfoy, but I have a daughter to get home to. My shift is over for today."

"You're not afraid of me, are you?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"And what cause would I have to be afraid of you?" her voice remained steady.

"Most people are, you know."

"Well, I'm not." She turned and began walking towards the front doors, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She spun around and yanked her arm away from him.

"I need to talk to you about my mother."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I do not discuss my patients with anyone." He frowned and his eyes turned icy.

"I am paying for this bloody therapy, so you will discuss her with me."

"I don't care who is paying for her therapy, I don't discuss my patients with anyone." She turned and walked out the door, leaving him staring after her.

**

"Hello poppet!" Ginny cooed, scooping Lily into her arms. The three year-old squirmed and made a face, and Ginny laughed. She put her daughter down and watched as she went back to her dolls.

"Ginny, is that you, dear?" her mother's voice called from the kitchen. She dropped her purse on the table in the foyer and followed the direction of the voice. Her mother was cooking- again -and her face was pink from exertion. Ginny dropped down into one of the chairs at the table and rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, it's just me."

"How was work?"

"Same as always," she said, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell that filled the air. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Her mother had done nothing since the war except experiment with her cooking. Ginny supposed that it was one of the few things that helped keep Molly sane, after the death of her husband. She stood and peered over her mother's shoulder. "What in the world are you cooking, Mum?"

"It's a new recipe I got out of Witch Weekly," she said absentmindedly. "How is Lily? Did you check on her?"

"Of course I did. She's fine - playing with the new dolls that Fred sent her last week." Molly's hand paused above the pot she was stirring, and then went on again as though nothing had happened. Ginny had seen the movement though. "Mum, I've been meaning to ask you something. How about we have a nice little family dinner, and I'll invite Fred and Ron?"

"That would be lovely," Molly said, flashing her a rare genuine smile. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and pushed her hair away from her face. "Where is Ron this week, anyway? He never writes to me anymore."

"He never writes to anyone, Mum, you know that," Ginny scolded her gently. She stood and retrieved a butterbeer from the refrigerator, then sat back down. "I think he was in Egypt the last time I heard from him, but that's been weeks." She shrugged and took a long drink.

"Did he mention any girlfriends or anything?" Molly asked hopefully. Ginny sniggered and stood.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mum. Even if Ron had a girlfriend, you know he wouldn't tell me about it. He says I analyze things too much." She smiled and stretched, then turned to leave. "I'll send Hedwig out to him in a bit, but I'm going to go and shower now." She paused with her hand above the doorknob, and then thought better of it. She turned and planted a kiss on her mother's cheek, then went upstairs to the bathroom.

She turned on the taps and let the glorious steam fog up the mirror before stepping beneath the hot spray. She closed her eyes and let the water wash over her for a few minutes. She reached for the shampoo bottle, but her hand froze just in front of it. She sighed and dropped her hand, and felt the tears welling up. The shower was the one place she ever allowed herself to show her sadness.

The hot tears rolled down her cheek, mingling with the droplets of water. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, letting them fall. No one in the shower to see or pass judgement on me. I'm all alone. The last thought resonated in her head, and she bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out. Yes, she was alone - in the truest sense of the word. The love of her life - her soul mate - was gone. Dead. Killed. A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.

He'd warned her before they'd even started dating, so it was her own fault. She hadn't cared - she wanted to be with Harry, and no one else. She'd never been happier in her entire life than the night he proposed to her five years ago. She was nineteen and had just finished her Mediwitch training, and he was one of the Ministry's most respected Aurors. She'd jumped on him and nearly smothered him when she'd told him yes. Pain stabbed her heart repeatedly as she remembered his eyes, bright and shining, on their wedding day.

And then when she'd told him about the baby. Oh, she'd never seen him happier, ever. He was finally getting the family he'd always longed for; finally, happiness had embraced him fully. The day their daughter was born, she could have sworn he'd died and gone to heaven. The moment her startling green eyes met her father's, he was hooked. He doted on her as though she were a Princess, because in his eyes, truly she was. She had Ginny's red hair and Harry's green eyes, and she'd reminded him of his Mum, so they'd named her Lily.

Her mouth twisted in a pained smile when she realized he'd gotten to spend about as much time with Lily as the original Lily had gotten to spend with him. A week after her first birthday, he was called to the Ministry on business - that business being, of course, the final battle with Voldemort. Harry had defeated him easily enough, only to turn around and be Avada Kedavra'd by none other than Lucius Malfoy himself. Ginny knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help but feel somewhat vindicated that her brother, Ron, had killed the bastard.

And poor Harry. God. Is there a God? I'm not so sure anymore. She reached for the shampoo bottle with steadier hands and squeezed a small amount into her palm, then worked it through her hair, trying to let the scent of Chamomile calm her. It had been Harry's favorite scent, and she knew she would never use anything else, as long as she'd lived. She closed her eyes and saw him standing beside Lily, singing to her in her crib. She'd laughed and made fun of him, but he'd poked his tongue out at her and continued singing.

Thank goodness that Harry had picked something up from Colin Creevey and become a picture fanatic - he snapped two or three new ones every day. While Ginny had thought at the time that he had gone round the twist, now she could fully appreciate his efforts. At least she had something to show Lily, and something for herself to remind her of the best four years of her life. As long as she drew breath, she would ensure that no one would forget her darling Harry, ever.

She rinsed her hair and sighed. She had to calm down before she left the bathroom, or she'd be the recipient of one of her mother's famous "move on" speeches. Her mother had soundly berated her. "You spend all day at work telling other people to move on and helping them do it, and yet you remain stuck in the same place. How is that healthy, Ginny? Life keeps moving. You need to move with it."

She turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower, into the steam of the bathroom. She reached for a towel and buried her face in it, taking deep, calming breaths. Her heart was beating abnormally fast. She kicked herself mentally. How was it that she could even face the wife of the man who'd killed her husband without blinking, but recalling the happier moments in her life made her ache as though she'd just been told the news of his death again? She felt herself trembling and pulled her clothes on shakily, then sat down heavily on the floor.

Lily deserved more than this. She deserved more than a father who'd been wrongfully taken away from her, and a workaholic mother who drowned herself in her work and was mired in denial. She pulled a brush through her hair and winced as it encountered several tangles. When she had worked them all out, she took a deep breath and stood up, not daring to glance in the mirror. She knew better than that. If she looked in the mirror, she would see the reason Harry had been killed.

She draped the damp towel across the side of the bathtub, and then went downstairs to join her mother and daughter in the sitting room. Since moving into Number 12 Grimmauld Place with Harry, she'd become comfortable with the Muggle additions to the house. He'd installed a television, a stereo, a DVD player, and several hundred DVD's and CD's. Lily thoroughly enjoyed the television, if nothing else - Harry, ever the doting father, had proceeded to purchase her every cartoon ever made - or so Ginny had liked to tease him. Lily and Molly were both sitting on the couch, watching Alice in Wonderland.

"Do you think anyone realized that Lewis Carroll was a wizard?" her mother asked thoughtfully. Ginny smiled and sat down next to Lily, smoothing her wild copper hair away from her forehead.

"I asked Harry that myself."

"What did he say?"

"He said absolutely not. He didn't even think about it until after he'd been at Hogwarts for a few years - when he was in one of Hagrid's classes, and came across an animal that reminded him of a Bandersnatch in the story." Molly chuckled.

"I'll bet he was surprised that you even knew the story, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," she admitted, wrapping a protective arm around Lily. "But not after I explained that the author was a Wizard. Then everything seemed to fall into place, and he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. I asked him why the chess pieces coming to life and speaking hadn't given him a clue, since he was such an avid fan of Wizard's chess."

"I wish I had been there for that conversation," Molly laughed. Ginny smiled wistfully. I wish I could go back and have it all over again.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm starved!" she exclaimed, picking Lily up. Lily giggled as Ginny perched her on her shoulders, then carried her into the kitchen. She sat her down and fixed her a plate, then got herself something to eat. She glanced around the table at her mother and her daughter, and smiled. Yes, sometimes life could be good, even in the midst of pain.