Sunshine or Shadows

Chapter 9. Back to the Grind

Puffs of steam and a piercing whistle shot into the air from the steel pipes atop the Hogwarts Express, a familiar warning. It was time, Molly knew. Time to let their baby girl climb into the cabin one last time...and get on with her life.

"You sure you'll be all right?" Ginny asked. Glistening eyes darted back and forth between Molly and Arthur, and there was no small amount of doubt expressed in them.

"We'll be fine, sweetheart," Arthur said. "Don't you worry about us. Just take care of yourself and your studies."

They were standing at the front entrance to the train next to Ginny's large trunk and two cages which held Errol and Arnold the Pygmy Puff. Arthur lifted the trunk by its handle and Ginny took it from him, faltering slightly under its weight while she waited for her father to position the cages on top of it.

As the whistle beckoned them again, Molly stepped forward, placed a hand on her daughter's cheek and gave it a pat. "Be good, dear," she said. It was one of those automatic, mother phrases, she knew. They were down to seconds and the moment seemed ripe for something lasting and sentimental, but "Be good, dear," was all she could come up with.

Ginny pursed her lips and lifted the trunk higher. "Keep Dad from killing himself in the woodshed, okay?"

Molly chuckled. The kids had taken to calling the old storage shed out back "the woodshed" due to their father's ever-increasing infatuation with Muggle woodworking. Ron usually referred to it as "the bloody woodshed", although Molly was never quite sure if he was being literal or had just found a clever excuse to use a curse word. She opened her mouth to respond, but then realized that all she could see of her beautiful daughter now was the back of her brown cloak and a flash of red hair.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, Arthur, I wasn't ready yet."

Arthur leaned over and gave her shoulder a firm pat, plastering a smile on his face and waving bravely as the train issued a few chugs and lurched into motion. The desire to run after the cars was nearly choking Molly. She had used up all of her strength these past few weeks, trying to keep Ginny from seeing how utterly shattered she had been at the prospect of seeing her off for the last time; and to have Ron, Harry and Hermione move out the very same week was like pouring acid on the wounds.

"I wasn't ready," she repeated, dropping her voice as she said it until she was speaking entirely within her mind, feeling the sting of long-held tears as they spilled onto her cold cheeks. "I didn't ask her how she intended to handle Quidditch duties, or tell her not to let the extra burdens of last year's coursework overwhelm her. Did she have enough money in her sack to at least go to Hogsmeade a few times? Will she remember to have fun and enjoy her last year as best she can? " The questions circled around inside Molly's head, causing a little hiccup to form in her throat.

It was like a rip, the pain of losing a child. A deep, uneven and messy tear right through the chest. Molly didn't know whether she would feel this miserable today if she hadn't so recently lost her precious, spirited Fred, but she suspected that she might. Loving these children had been the easiest job in the world for so many years, providing her and Arthur with more than two decades worth of highs. Letting them go, though, whether to wives or to adulthood or to heaven itself, had to rival the best highs in intensity; at the moment, Molly felt quite overwhelmed with the pain of it.

The train whistled one last time and Molly blinked to clear her eyes of the fat teardrops. She wanted to watch it as it left. Arthur gave her shoulder another squeeze and Molly managed a weak wave and a whispered, "Goodbye". In her mind, she could see a tiny Ginny running alongside the train, crying for her brothers to take her with them to the mysterious and exalted Hogwarts. "I know just how you feel, dear," she thought as she gave in to a sob and a fresh cascade of tears.

Ginny made her way through the crowded, noisy corridor of the Hogwarts Express, smiling politely at all the familiar faces. Dean Thomas greeted her in front of a compartment full of boys, but she declined their offer to sit with them, instead seeking out the two people she most wanted to see. She had developed such a fondness for her two best friends during the last school year that it just wouldn't seem right to enter Hogsmeade Station without them.

She found Luna and Neville in a cabin filled to the brim with old school mates, and took a seat across from Luna's cousin, Natalie. They chatted away during a long but uneventful train ride and then sectioned themselves off from the crowd to pile into a carriage full of second-years for the final passage to Hogwarts. Natalie was met at the station by a booming Hagrid, and joined him and all of the other "first-years" for the traditional boat ride in.

Not surprisingly, almost every rider in Ginny's carriage remarked on the graceful but ethereal Thestrals as they climbed into their seats; Ginny found the whole experience to be a bit macabre. Her nose kept scrunching when someone mentioned the animals, and she caught herself staring enviously at the two second years up front who asked what everyone was going on about.

To ease her mind, Ginny entertained herself by sending tickle spells to the young kids and watching them squirm, trying not to laugh while they looked around for a culprit. She wanted to divert their attention. "Let them find out about Thestrals on their own, when they're much, much older," she mused. When the carriages pulled through the gates and slowed to a stop on Hogwarts grounds, the new Headmistress, Professor Tuttle, was there to meet them.

"Hello students," she said. The witch was barely visible against the early evening sky, clad from head to toe in iridescent dark blue. "I am your new Headmistress.'

"Pleased to meet you, Professor Tuttle," Ginny and the others said, stepping over each other's words. Luna bowed deeply, which caused Ginny to bite on her cheek to suppress a giggle.

"We will be heading into the castle by way of the graveyards tonight," Professor Tuttle continued once Luna had returned to upright. "The alumni association has erected a special monument earlier in the summer, during the restoration, and I thought the students would like to have the opportunity to pay tribute, if they desired."

Tired and a little bit disappointed that they weren't going straight to the feast in the Great Hall, Ginny gritted her teeth and slothed behind Neville and Luna. They followed their new Headmistress's directions and led the way for the small pack of twelve-year-olds toward the eerie graveyards that stretched out behind the castle.

They approached the white tomb where their old Headmaster was buried and followed Luna as she drifted over to a two-story pillar of gleaming white marble. It was lit from below by a collection of candles and had been engraved with a tribute of sorts. Ginny guessed that this must be the Battle of Hogwarts Memorial Tombstone that was talked about at each of the many funerals she had been to since she'd last been inside the gates of Hogwarts. She followed along as Luna read the encryption in that floaty, surreal voice that only Luna could get away with using.

Hey, young Gryffindor, have courage, I pray

There's fifty dead in old Scotland today,

Bow down fine Slytherins, for they laid all to chance

And died for the masses, one last wily dance

Hufflepuff lads and lasses take heed,

Stay steadfast and true, for we all are in need

Go bright minds of Ravenclaw, and banish the trends

That brought us to war; let this sad day portend

In Hogwarts, oh fifty, you're deeds are our mortar

Your strength is our keystone, your graves are our border

Brave and bright, sly and true, light a candle and pray

For fifty have died in old Scotland today.

Ginny dropped her gaze and stared at the hundred or so flickering candles that wrapped around the base of the monument. For some reason, they reminded her of glow worms that she and her brothers used to trap and play with in the stale evenings of the late summer.

"They're everburning," Luna whispered. "The candles. We have those at home. They'll burn for a thousand years if no wizard ever extinguishes them. Caused a bit of a problem for us when we forgot one and left on holiday one year." Ginny turned her head and smiled at Luna. That girl was always good for killing a somber mood.

"That was the first time we had the second floor rebuilt," Luna added, staring at the candles, transfixed.

"Would you like to light one?" Neville asked. "For Fred?" He pointed to a table that had a handful of colorful candles on it, over on the far side of the graveyard. "I'm sure they've left them here for us."

Ginny nodded.

She pulled her wand out of her cloak pocket and nibbled absently on the tip of it, reading the carved poem once again while Neville retrieved an everburning candle for her.

Neville knelt down to find a bare patch of grass to set the small glass holder on, and then looked up at Ginny. "Here?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's fine," she said.

While Neville stepped aside for Ginny to cast the Accendo charm, a tiny, wayward idea tickled her fancy. Smirking, she lowered her wand, pointed it at the votive holder and transfigured it into a glass ear. The candle had become warped in the process, extending from the center in a blob, but the wick had survived, and Ginny lit it with a swish.

"Earwax!" Luna beamed.

But when Ginny looked up at Neville, he was frowning. "I'm sorry, Neville," she said, guessing from his expression that he was a little offended by her odd prank. "I just always think of Fred as George's missing ear for some reason. It's so stupid, but I can't seem to shake the analogy. Do you think I should put it right?"

"Well," Neville said, "it looks normal from back here anyway. Most people won't even notice that you've desecrated their war memorial. I wouldn't worry."

"Good," Ginny said, "because I'm not very good at Untransfiguring...I'm not so sure I like the idea of a candle burning forever anyway." Ginny spoke wistfully as the three friends turned to walk back to the castle. "It feels like we should be more willing to let them go."

Neville turned his head, looking down at Ginny while they walked -- he was a full head taller than her, she noticed. "The candles are there to remind us of them...that we lost them...so that we'll think twice before allowing anyone like Voldemort to become such a powerful force ever again. People forget these things, Ginny, if you let them."

Ginny smiled. "Yes, Professor Longbottom," she teased.

"Actually," Luna said, "He's Apprentice Longbottom, not Professor Longbottom. Though, I think we should call him 'Sir', to be proper."

"You do that," Neville returned, "and I think that you might just find that your marks in Herbology will be dropping considerably."

Ginny laughed. "You'll be doing the grading, then?" she asked.

"Yep," Neville replied.

Facing the castle door, Ginny, Luna and Neville took one last opportunity to look back at the monument and its collection of little everburning tributes to the students, parents, citizens, Aurors and teachers who died on the grounds and inside that door months ago. She thought of the ear-shaped candle and wondered what students in a hundred years' time will think of it.

"Shall we?" Neville asked, placing his hands on the large door handles.

Luna nodded slowly.

"We shall," Ginny said. "Let's save spaces for Natalie, in case she gets into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and cross our fingers that she doesn't get sorted into the dark side." Ignoring another frown from Neville, Ginny straightened up and entered through the huge door to begin her last year of school.

The first week passed quickly, with special meetings called nearly every night to discus the complicated web of make-up courses and tutoring sessions that were being offered to students. Anyone who had missed all or part of the school year was being given all the help that the Hogwarts staff and parent volunteers had to offer in order to assure a solid chance at performing well -- especially for students working toward their O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s.

After surviving her first full week, Ginny sought out a bit of alone time, flying on borrowed brooms over the Quidditch Pitch and sorting through the good and bad ones so that she could match the particular quirks of each broom to the particular quirks of her new teammates. She had gotten quite used to the idea of captaining the team -- rather savoring the experience, in fact - and had posted a note on the common room's bulletin board that their first practice would begin in the morning at seven sharp.

She spent some time cleaning out the changing rooms - with spells she'd long ago learned from watching her mum - and lined eleven brooms up next to eleven lockers before Spellotaping eleven nameplates on top of each. The sun disappeared quickly in the autumn evening, and Ginny found it peaceful to be caught in the dark changing room, alone with her thoughts for the first time in a week. She sat on the floor, soaking in the feeling of calm that comes with sensory deprivation, and went through her mental checklist of accomplishments.

"Letter to Mum, check. Hogwarts team handpicked, check. Career decision, check."

She'd met with Professor McGonagall on her second day after dinner, and announced her intentions to become an Auror. The thought made her smile, even in the dark all these days later, and adrenaline buzzed within her at the thought of joining the troops who went out into the world and kicked Death Eater butt for a living.

They were still out there -- the Death Eaters. It was inevitable that some of them would come out of hiding and attempt to extort a Muggle or two, or dispose of their dangerous Dark wares in an innocent dumpster where somebody could get hurt. Even Harry's own obsession with gaining control of the apparently oversexed Dementor population held some appeal to Ginny, as she sat in the quiet changing room and pondered her future. She could see quite vividly a picture of herself, long red hair whipping around, as she cast an ominous rope out of her wand to tie up a huge, black Dementor just as he was about to woo his counterpart.

A yellow light flickered near the entrance to the changing rooms and Ginny peered up at it.

"Hello? Ginny?"

It was Natalie. Ginny smiled and pulled out her wand, lighting her face to show her newest friend and roommate that she'd been found. "Hi Natalie," she said.

"What are you doing?" Natalie asked. She raised her wand and pointed it around the room. "Is anyone else here?

"Yeah," Ginny answered, sardonically. "I'm here in the dark with the entire

Gryffindor Quidditch team. Don't tell Harry, okay?"

Natalie laughed. "As if," she said. She walked over to where Ginny was sitting, on the floor and leaning against the lockers, and crouched down beside her. "Can I join you? It took a long time for me to seek you out, I could use a rest."

"Sure," Ginny said. "I was just going over my list of things to do, trying to figure out if I've missed anything in my first week." She lowered her wand and set it on the floor so that the two friends weren't in total darkness. "I was enjoying a rather nice daydream about me becoming an Auror and stopping two Dementors from doing the nasty. It doesn't even make sense though, now that I think of it, because Harry told me Dementors are asexual..."

"You're dating Harry Potter and all you can think to daydream about are scabby, dirty, disgusting Dementors?" Natalie asked, her always playful, husky voice echoing somewhat in the empty room.

"Dating..." Ginny said. She put a hand over the center of the wand light, curling it into a fist, and looked up at the ceiling, squinting to focus more light into her eyes. She supposed they were dating, she and Harry. He had written her two letters so far, and she'd sent two back. "We're corresponding," she said and she wiggled two fingers over her fist.

"Are you mad at Harry?" Natalie asked.

"No," Ginny said. She wasn't. Threads of resentment had long ago been woven into her being due to countless instances where she'd been left feeling neglected, forgotten or just plain ignored - and those threads were hard to ignore sometimes. She'd carried on a bit, and regretted it now, but she wasn't mad at Harry. There wasn't anything to be mad about, in the end.

"It just hurts," she said, so quietly that the words were barely perceptible, swallowed by darkness.

Natalie tutted. "You're getting love letters and salivating over them, making all of your housemates sick with jealousy. Now quit pouting in the dark like a spoiled child," she said. "And what are you doing, anyway?"

Ginny studied the ceiling. "I'm making shadow bunnies."

Natalie laughed. "Oh," she chuckled. "Ginny, are you having a breakdown in here? Is that what I'm going to be doing with my first homework-free evening since I got here at boarding school -- talking you out of offing yourself because your gorgeous superhero boyfriend hasn't written often enough?"

"No," Ginny said. "I'm fine with me and Harry, I'm not pouting. It just doesn't really feel like we're dating, that's all. It's never felt like that, to be honest. We went on a date -- one date -- and we played wizard's chess and flew and basically acted like childhood friends for a couple of weeks, give or take a few mindblowing snog sessions..."

"Okay, that's enough," Natalie said. "When you find me a hunky Hogwarts boy of my own, you can go on all you want about your sad summer spent in the arms of every girl's dream. But," she said, standing up and brushing off the bottom of her cloak, "for now you're going to have to get up and come back with me to the common room." She handed Ginny her wand and chuckled again. "They're planning on pranking the first years and I don't want to miss it."

"Poor little things," Ginny said. "What have they got planned?"

"Nothing harsh or cruel," Natalie said. "They're just replacing the first-years' toothpaste with a concoction made with disappearing ink. It'll be interesting to see the results."

Ginny smiled. It seemed that Gryffindor had finally found a new rabble-rouser or two to take up where Fred and George had left off. She stood up and followed Natalie back into the castle, thinking that she just might write Harry another letter when she got there, now that Natalie had rekindled her remorse.