Sunshine or Shadows

Chapter 13. Endeavoring to Reappear

After Andromeda and Teddy packed their gear into their rickety station wagon and puttered down the drive toward their London flat, Molly and Arthur sat together, dumbstruck and beaten on their family room sofa, and stared into the fire. The kids had already gone home to their own flats and Ginny - poor thing - lay stretched out on the floor by the fireplace, bundled tightly in her bedroom quilt and fast asleep.

"We've strengthened the wards," Arthur said. "I don't think we'll see any more trouble this evening."

Molly lifted her tired eyelids and mustered a small smile. "Well, then," she replied, "we'd better be off to bed." Neither moved. Molly knew that her words were hollow: she wouldn't sleep this evening after everything that had happened and after all that had been done.

A deep sense of shame was tugging at her insides and she had been struggling against it ever since she came to on the hearth rug. After the ruckus quieted and the events of the evening were revealed to her, earlier in the kitchen, she had done her best to tuck her growing feelings of having disgraced the family neatly away, trying not to give in to the temptation to give voice to her despondency. Arthur had enough to worry about with the breach of the wards: having to erect a new back door and dealing with the Ministry reports. He certainly didn't need to concern himself with people's insecurities and shortcomings.

"I think I'll just stay up a bit," Arthur mumbled through a yawn. "I don't feel right about leaving Ginny here anyway. Why don't you go on up, dear?"

Placing a hand on her husband's knee, Molly sighed. "You won't be sleeping then, I take it?"

"Not a wink."

"Nor I, dear," Molly relented. She gave Arthur a squeeze and heaved her exhausted body up off of the sofa, heading for the kitchen again. "I'll just make us some more tea, yeah?"

"That'd be lovely," Arthur said. Molly turned to acknowledge her husband and followed his gaze to their sleeping daughter. Ginny's face was hidden in a fold of her pink, purple and yellow quilt, and her hair was spread out all over the floor, affecting an impressive display of oranges and golds in the firelit room.

"She's a fighter, that one." Arthur lifted his head to catch Molly's eye as he spoke and winked. "Takes after her mum, she does."

A hiccup choked in Molly's throat as she fought back a hot wave of embarrassment. She knew what had gone on in their home: Ron and Hermione had filled her in, speaking in turn and slowly piecing together vague details of the night's fight. Harry, Ron and Ginny took on what turned out to be twenty-two Dementors, holding them in some sort of pen made out of Patronuses while Hermione kept herself, Andromeda and poor little Teddy safe inside of the house. Arthur put up screens and fought off Dementors around the Burrow's property before coming to Hermione's aid, they had said.

What they must have looked like - she and her dear friend - sprawled on the floor just as Ginny was now while the rest of the family waged a brave defense against their attackers. And to think that there had been a baby in the house. Teardrops welled up in Molly's eyes as she thought about the boy, and she hastened to turn her head before Arthur noticed.

It was too late. Within seconds, she found herself wrapped up in her husband's sturdy arms, sobbing into his wooly jumper.

"Molly," Arthur whispered, "there's not a soul on Earth who would think ill of you for what happened here. Do you hear me?" Molly nodded feebly and swallowed another surge of emotion. "Not a soul. What we've been through...what Andromeda has been through...it's what the Dementors feed off of. They broke free of their holding house when Andromeda passed, earlier in the evening. Did you know that?"

The fire crackled and Ginny stirred while Molly choked out a "no". She hadn't even asked where the Dementors had come from...she'd just assumed they were a family or clan of some type, traveling together through Ottery St. Catchpole and happening upon the Burrow.

"The Aurors were notified of the breakout, but lost the trail," Arthur continued. "It wasn't until Harry sent notice that he'd captured them that the unit even realized they were anywhere near us."

"Oh," Molly said. They followed poor Andromeda as she drove from the city, probably having a good cry in the privacy of her station wagon over the dreary prospect of spending the upcoming holidays without her husband and daughter. "Oh, poor Andromeda."

"Come, love," Arthur pressed. "Let's get you into the kitchen and I'll make us some Irish breakfast tea. That's your favorite, yeah?"

"Yes," Molly said. She found her way to a chair and dropped into it, a little shocked in the wake of her breakdown and at the discovery of how they had come to be attacked. "That is my favorite, dear."

When the sun poked in through the window on the back door, Ginny finally relented to admitting that she was awake and pulled the quilt off of her face, blinking in the bright ray. Her back ached from sleeping on the hardwood floor and she felt painful waves of sharp tingles running up and down her right arm. "Why didn't anyone wake me?" she thought. She rubbed her elbow in an attempt to get blood to return to the numb limb, which caused her face to wince, involuntarily. The rubbing was only making her arm hurt more, she decided, and she gave it up with a groan, frowning and rubbing her eyes as she sat up.

"Who's up?" she asked. She'd been listening to clinking and whispering sounds in the kitchen since she'd awoken and rather hoped that Harry had come back to the Burrow after delivering his catch - having decided to spend the night. She had stayed up as long as she could, warming up by the fire while the others talked in the kitchen over chocolates and hot milk. But, the aftereffects of having to conjure two Patronuses at once while suffering the overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety that came along with being so close to a group of Dementors had left her exhausted, and she'd drifted off to sleep within an hour of the Aurors' departure.

"It's just us, dear," Ginny's mum called out. "Your father will be leaving for the office shortly, but I've called off my visit to St. Gertrude's. So, we'll have the day all to ourselves."

"Harry never came back?" Ginny asked. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Ron doesn't live here anymore, dear, and Hermione has her own place too, remember?" Mrs. Weasley said. Her voice had that school teacher quality about it today, Ginny thought. That automatic, information-doling, brimming with patience voice she'd always used when home-schooling.

Giggling at the fact that her mum felt the need to be so careful around her, Ginny pushed herself up off of the hard floor and lumbered toward the stairs. "Oh yes," she said. "I forgot for a minute there."

As she locked herself in the Burrow's lone bathroom to freshen up, Ginny allowed her thoughts to ramble, wondering whether the previous plans to spend the day shopping for Christmas dinner would be scrapped, given the "excitement" of last night's little intrusion. She'd been looking forward to seeing her brothers - especially Bill and Charlie: it had been August since she'd seen or heard from either of them. Fleur would be there as well, she thought, and her mum had mentioned something about a "friend" Charlie was bringing along, so it wasn't likely that they would really get the chance to spend much time together, but it would just be so nice to hear her oldest brothers' voices again.

Ginny took her time in the shower, relishing the privacy that it offered as compared to the shared facilities in Gryffindor tower, and then dusted on a healthy portion of her mum's lilac powder and brushed a handful of leave-in conditioner into her hair to make it shine. When she at last came back downstairs into the kitchen, she found that her father had already left for the Ministry, and her mum was putting the last of the morning's dishes away.

"I guess I missed breakfast," she thought. No bacon, no sausages, not even a drop of coffee or tea was left out for her, as she'd grown to expect, in the center of the old dining table.

"Ginny, there are some pastries in the scullery. If you would grab one of those, we can get on our way," Mrs. Weasley crooned. "We've loads to do today to get ready for Christmas dinner." Ginny smiled. So everything hadn't changed after all. There would still be a Christmas dinner.

"Yes, Mum," she said and she drew out her wand to summon a basket that had a loaf of bread in it as well as a few items from a nearby bakery. She selected a raspberry danish and held it between her teeth while she levitated the basket back into place and summoned her coat, gloves and hat.

"Bundle up good," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'd like to shop in downtown Ottery St. Catchpole, so we'll have to walk most of the way, I'm afraid.

The two witches spent the day picking up bits and pieces of what promised to be a grand Christmas feast. The last stop made was to a wine cellar beneath a small grocery store, where they selected four bottles of wine and a pint of dark rum - "to flavor the eggnog," Mrs. Weasley had said.

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Ginny said once they'd finally returned to the Burrow.

It was a relief, she realized after she had said it, to find that she was still excited about the holiday: still happily looking forward to a boisterous dinner followed by eggnog and pudding by the fire in the family room - though it may be without a tree this year - and maybe a little quiet time with her much-missed Harry. The loss of her brother hadn't completely poisoned her spirit as she'd thought it would, though it did still make everything feel a bit tender still - like a sizeable bruise that only hurts when it's pushed on. If anything, Ginny mused, last night's attack showed just how fragile a good mood can be in the months following a heartache such as theirs. Vowing internally not to take one for granted ever again, she winked at her mum and set about cutting up stale bread for the stuffing.

"When will we eat?" she asked. "I'm starved, that little bit of pastry didn't hold me over very well. I'm about ready to dive into one of our sacks and eat my way through it."

"We'll eat when the goose is done," Mrs. Weasley said. "Maybe you should get a snack, dear. I can't have you eating up all the spoils of our shopping excursion." With a smile, Ginny's mum disappeared into the scullery and emerged with the family's great, black roasting pan floating dutifully in front of her. "We'll get that bird stuffed and cooked within a few hours," she said. "I'm afraid I can't do any better than that."

"Okay, Mum," Ginny returned. She fished around in the icebox and found enough ingredients for a large salad, which she ate at the table - picking at it while she chatted with her mum about her various aunts and uncles and their whereabouts.

A sudden chorus of coughing and sneezing sounds emanated from the family room, interrupting their conversation abruptly and bringing an end to Ginny's snacking before it had made much of a dent in her hunger.

"Hello," Bill sang out. "Just you two here?"

Ginny stood to greet her brother and his wife, who was in the throws of a rather spectacular coughing fit. "And who exactly were you expecting?" she asked. "Father Christmas, himself?"

"No, no," Bill said. "I told him to stay clear of us this year. Fleur would give him a deathly cold and then what will all the kiddies do?"

"It eez not contagious anymore, I don't theenk," Fleur squeeked, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief and blowing her noise softly into it. "It eez ze Dementors, zay make me ill."

"I know love," Bill cooed. "There won't be any more Dementors for you this year, I promise you that."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked. "Were you attacked too?"

Fleur pushed her nose up slightly. "Do you not know?" she asked.

"Fleur's been doing guard duty," Mrs. Weasley said, "at one of the holding houses." She held a wool blanket out for Fleur to wrap up in and led the witch into the kitchen, floating a tea kettle into the sink, filling it with water. "The Ministry has figured out that Dementors are affected by Veelas. They become lethargic, almost motionless if they are around a Veela for an appreciable amount of time."

"We take turns keeping watch," Fleur said. She gave a proud nod toward Bill and lifted her wand out from under the blanket to help Mrs. Weasley finish with the tea preparations. "Bill and I 'ave Friday nights."

"Not any more, we don't," Bill said. He was still speaking from the family room as he organized a pile of wrapped presents that he'd brought along into a neat stack in the space where a tree usually stood. "I'm not letting Fleur go again - at least not until she gets healthy. She seems to be affected by the Dementors as well."

"The cold?" Ginny asked. "Dementors can give you a cold?"

"I think that being near those things," Molly said, her voice tender with empathy, "eats away at our resistance."

"Funny," Ginny muttered. "Harry never mentioned Veelas being part of his little Dementor guard crew." She grabbed one of the teacups that Fleur had selected from the highest shelves in the skullery, gazing at it for a moment before filling it with tea. "Are these ours?" she asked.

The delicate white cups were decorated lavishly with yellow and purple roses, green vines, and had gold-embossed fleur-de-lis imprints, displayed prominently on the front. They certainly weren't the kind of thing that normally found its way into the Burrow's cupboard, she thought. This was a place for stained and chipped porcelain cups... or stoneware: sturdy things for sturdy people.

"Er...yes, dear. Don't you remember? We've had this set out many times over the summer. Surely you recognize them." Ginny thought she detected a note of discomfort in her mum's voice, and she shot a look over to Bill before arguing back.

"Zese," Fleur said, her voice nasally with her head cold, "were our geeft to your muzzer for last Christmas."

Ginny widened her eyes and hastened a sip to keep from smiling. She swallowed the hot tea and choked out, "Oh, yes. Right. Guess the Dementors have an affect on me as well. I can't seem to remember things." She couldn't resist giving her mum one last, knowing look before setting her fancy teacup back down on the bleached and battered oak table and pushing her chair back. "Anyone else arriving now as well?" she asked.

Bill gave Ginny a wink. "They're all at the store," he said. "Ron, Hermione, George, Charlie and some witch named Lucille. They wanted to close early to get here sooner, but the place is still mobbed with customers."

"And...Harry?" A little jolt of electricity shot through Ginny as she realized that no one had yet told her that Harry had in fact made it back safely from his little side trip with the Aurors. All day, she had spent her time chatting aimlessly with her mother - all the while assuming that someone would have said something to her if Harry wasn't back at his flat the whole time, wiling away the hours miserably while waiting to see her.

Fleur sneezed again and sniffed delicately. Turning her head toward the sound, and thinking about how truly pointless it was to try so hard to be elegant while ridding oneself of mucus, it suddenly occurred to Ginny that Bill and Fleur, if they were really spending their Fridays Dementor-sitting at the haunted houses, must work with the same group that Harry did. She turned to face Bill and pinned him with her eyes.

"Where's Harry?" she asked. All traces of humor vaporized within her as she watched her brother's eyes for signs of trepidation or concern.

"'E's fine," Fleur wheezed. "We were at ze ministry when 'Arry came in with ze lead Auror last night."

"He's fine," Bill repeated. "Ginny, we didn't get a chance to speak with him, but I talked to Deirdry Dullus, the head of the Dementor Search and Capture squadron. They had a bad night. All of the Aurors worked all night to comb the countryside for missing Dementors. There were thirty at the house before the breakout, and only twenty-two were found here at the Burrow."

"Thirty," Mrs. Weasley muttered.

"And Harry?" Ginny asked again. "Where is Harry?"

"I expect he went with them," Bill replied, nonchalantly. "He's more or less a part of that squad, and with the loss of O'Neil..."

"What happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table, setting a dishcloth down as she stared up at her son. "I think I know an O'Neil who works as an Auror. His wife is a Doctor at St. Gertrude's."

"He was on guard at the house when the Dementors escaped," Bill said.

"He received ze kiss," Fleur added.

Ginny thought that a silencing charm might have been put on the whole house; it had fallen so quiet. She felt her heart thumping away inside of her chest and allowed a cool wave of numbness to work its way up her body until it reached her brain. "Oh," she thought. "Oh, how awful."

Bill broke the spell of silence by striding over to the table and placing a kiss on top of his wife's silky head. "They won't allow it to happen again," he said. "The first thing Ms. Dullus did when she got to the Ministry last night was to send out memos to each and every Auror and Ministry department. There are to be no less than three watchmen at a time now, and they will be requiring a Veela to be present at each holding house - 'round the clock."

"But, look at Fleur," Mrs. Weasley said. "It's quite obvious that this can't be a long-term solution?"

"A pure Veela eez able to keep zem in a depressed state, and I 'ave more zan enough Veela blood in me to help with ze cause," Fleur said. She was speaking defiantly now, despite her sickly appearance. "I don't know why, but eet seems to work. Zere will be no kisses when a Veela eez around."

Ginny flicked her eyes toward the fireplace. She sighed, thinking that if Harry was still off hunting down Dementors then she couldn't just wait here at the Burrow with Bill and Fleur. Even though she was under the weather, and despite the fact that she's clearly been working hard for the same cause that Ginny's beloved Harry seemed to be so obsessed with, the witch still rubbed Ginny like splinters on a riding broom.

"I think I'll go help them with the store," she said. "Are you all right now with dinner?" Her mum didn't look pleased, but Ginny figured that this had less to do with needing her help and more to do with not wanting Fleur's.

"Go on, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she hustled out of her chair and snatched up the dishtowel that she'd set down earlier. "We'll be fine here, you go see if you can help close that store so we don't have to serve a cold goose for Christmas dinner."

Ginny smiled and brushed herself off, pulling out her wand before heading into the family room. She cast an eye toward the kitchen to be sure that no one was watching her, and she pointed the wand at her chest, twisting quickly and trying with all of her powers to concentrate on a spot in the back of the twins' shop. When not a molecule on her body offered so much as a jiggle, she let out a curse and closed her eyes again.

"Come on!" she entreated. "Just this once, I don't want to take the Floo."

She took a deep breath and surveyed the spot she desired again in her mind. "A dusty floor, a tall shelf full of ingredients, a space between boxes - preferably unoccupied," she thought. "Please." With another twist, Ginny poked her chest with her own wand and waited for some sense that magic was being performed. She felt warm - that was new. Warm...and a bit dizzy.

"Ginny!"

With a thud, Ginny felt her body hit the floor. A thunderous pounding of feet vibrated the floorboards and reverberated painfully in her eardrum.

"Ginny," her mum repeated. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Er..."

"Did she splinch herself?" Bill asked.

Ginny wondered the same thing while forced herself up to a sitting position and she patted her body. "Limbs are all there," she thought, "and I don't feel any pain..."

"Of course not," Mrs. Weasley said, in an almost scolding fashion. "Of course not, she just lost her balance a bit."

"Did I disappear?" Ginny asked.

"We don't know, dear," her mum said. "We heard a thump and then saw you here on the floor."

"I was trying to Apparate," Ginny grumbled.

"Clearly," Bill replied. He was laughing now, and Ginny didn't appreciate the sentiment.

Marching over to the fireplace and grabbing a handful of dirty Floo powder, she tossed it at the flames and shouted, "Diagon Alley," before any more fuss could be made of her failed attempt at Apparition.