Sunshine or Shadows

Chapter 14. The Brighter Side of Winter

Ginny took a shortcut through an alley to enter Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes from the back entrance. She opened the door, using a special security spell that Ron had told her about in a letter, and used her wand to clean her jeans and jumper. The back of the shop, which was used as a stockroom, had changed considerably, she noticed. There were many more shelving units, for one thing. And, instead of holding the haphazard piles of smoking and sometimes sparking product rejects that she'd remembered, each shelf was now neatly packed with colorful boxes of the store's new merchandize, organized by "anticipated charm expiration date", and by product line.

"Things are looking up here," Ginny said, whistling in approval. The long walk in the frigid winter air had done wonders for her temper, and though her mind was still occupied with thoughts of Harry and his whereabouts, Ginny didn't have much difficulty plastering on a smile as she opened the stockroom door. Wherever he was, and whatever he was feeling, she had come to the conclusion that he was best served by being kept busy. The unthinkable had happened to one of Harry's coworkers, and Ginny decided that even though they would once again miss out on an opportunity for alone time, she was thankful that he was afforded the opportunity to involve himself with the cleanup. Harry needed to fix things - he needed it like other people needed to eat, sleep or spend time with their girlfriends.

"My boyfriend," she thought as she let her eyes adjust to the brightness of the shop area, "the wizarding world's most dedicated wrong-righter."

The store was packed with a dozen or so witches and wizards and an even buzz of excited conversation filled Ginny's ears the moment she stepped out of the stockroom. It took a few seconds before she recognized a tall wizard who was walking toward her as her brother, Charlie.

"It's Gin-Gin!" Charlie chirped, running up to Ginny and lifting her up as if she were still a tiny little girl.

Ginny felt the wind leave her lungs under Charlie's crush. The feeling evoked distant memories of backyard games, hard-fought wresting matches, and desperate goodbye hugs at Platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. "I thought I told you never to call me that," she said after he set her down, only half-annoyed.

"Oh, yes. I do recall a certain hex being used on me." Charlie quivered his shoulders at the memory. "Nasty little bogies, those were."

"Yes, well," Ginny replied, smiling. "Sorry about that." She stretched to give her brother the hug she'd been longing to give and looked up at his handsome, freckle-free face. Charlie was the lone Weasley sibling to have such flawless skin, now that Bill was scarred, and Ginny thought she'd forever be jealous of him for it. "How are you?" she asked.

"Fine. Things are slow, to be honest," he said. "Not much is happening at work. Mating season was last fall, so we've got a bunch of lazy, pregnant females now and a few lairs full of harmless, satisfied males. As long as we keep up with the girls' cravings, we get out right on time, every night."

Ginny laughed. "That's good to hear, Charlie. I'm glad."

Charlie grabbed her wrist and tugged on it. "Come," he said. "Have you seen what George and Ron have done with the place? It's nothing short of amazing, considering our expectations of the two. George was always a whiz with the business, we all knew that, but it's a huge load off that Ron is able to take up right where..." Charlie stopped mid-sentence and gave his sister an uneasy grimace.

"Fred left off," Ginny finished. "Yeah, they've done all right with the place, haven't they?"

As Charlie led her around the store, talking about this change or that improvement, a little bit of the worry that Ginny always carried around with her dissolved away. It was probably just that it was Christmas, or maybe the fact that she was still so hungry that her brain was half-starved along with the rest of her, but she felt a strong sense of fondness for Ron as the store's new features and efficiencies were revealed. He'd definitely taken up where Fred had left off and then some.

There were customers browsing every section of the store, and every section was gloriously mapped out for them by large floating banners. Red arrows would appear now and again, pointing toward another aisle with messages like, "Have you tried our new line of Tickling Toesocks? Aisle four, bottom shelf." Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was loads of fun in its infancy, Ginny mused, but it now had a quality about it that seemed so much more...professional.

"Ginny!" Hermione called out from the cashier's counter. She was handing a brown sack and a handful of coins to a smiling boy, looking flustered. "Have you come to save us?"

"Of course," Ginny said. "Where do you need me?"

"Here!" Hermione gave a look of exasperation and beckoned Ginny to take her spot behind the cash register. "I'm exhausted, and if you ring up the rest of these customers, I can help Ron in the back with closing up.

"Okay. Go on then," Ginny said. She hurried over to the counter and greeted the next person in line. For the next half-hour, she did her best to collect money, give change and pack up the goods as fast as she could so that they all could go home. When the last customer strode out, Ginny wiped her brow with her sweater sleeve and looked around for the rest of her clan.

Over in a corner, Charlie and a cute girl who Ginny had spied earlier but had assumed to be just another browsing customer, sat huddled together on the floor, fixing up the displays of fireworks.

"You must be Lucille?" Ginny yelled out.

"She must," Charlie replied. The two stood up from their crouching positions and made their way back over to Ginny, Charlie's arm wrapped around Lucille's tiny waist. "Lucille, this is my little sister, Gin-Gi--" Ginny shot a look of warning. "Ginny," he said. "And, Ginny, this is my girlfriend, Lucille."

"It's nice to finally meet you," the dark-haired girl said, cheerfully. Ginny noticed that Lucille had pretty blue eyes - the kind that stand out and beg attention. Her black hair and pale complexion reminded Ginny a little bit of Harry.

"And it's nice to finally meet you too," Ginny returned. She figured that she'd do Charlie a favor, just this once, and pretend that she'd actually heard of this girlfriend before. "So, you work with Charlie then?"

Lucille shook her head. "No. No, I work in a hospital nearby, in the burn unit." She aimed a smirk at Charlie. "You might say that your brother, here, is a frequent customer."

"Oh, I see," Ginny said, laughing. "We might want to keep that little tidbit of information safe from Mum's ears, though. How about we say that you work in the hospital, but that you and Charlie met at a quaint little sandwich shop that you both patronize at lunchtime."

Charlie reached up and gave Ginny's cheek a firm pinch. "See," he beamed. "Didn't I tell you she was the brightest of the lot?"

"Yes, you did, Charlie. And I can see that she's the best-looking as well," Lucille returned. "I guess you would have to be, wouldn't you...to catch the most eligible bachelor we've had since Gilderoy Lockhart left his brain behind at Hogwarts."

Ginny rubbed her cheek, a bit uncomfortable with the course of this conversation. "I'm not so sure Harry would want to be put in that camp," she said. She imagined Harry's face if he ever heard such a comparison: there would be the nose scrunch, followed by the neck scratch...and then an abrupt change of subject.

Giggling at the thought, Ginny cast around for a new subject of her own. She almost gulped when her eyes landed on a bizarre display that she'd managed to miss during her tour earlier. In the corner of the store, right next to a selection of Halloween pranks, was a table covered in deep violet cloth, which held an odd assortment of...mementos, it looked like.

"Holy dragon dung," she muttered.

"Oh," Charlie said, smiling. "I see you've spotted the Fred shrine."

Ginny walked slowly over to the table. She held her face steady while she looked around for George - not wanting to offend him by the look that was fighting its way onto her face. "It's er...hmm."

Now that she was standing over the table, she could see that the items on it were indeed set up to be some sort of a vigil. An everburning candle in the shape of an ear flickered in the center of the arrangement, flanked by a picture of Angelina Johnson after having "accidentally" taken a Big Head Bon Bon that Ginny remembered from her third year, a small rubber chicken, a burnt piece of wood Ginny recognized as a Gryffindor Tower bedpost, and Fred's Quidditch jersey, among other treasures. Above the table was a sign which read,

"O're yander lies my brother Fred,

He should be here, but as he's dead,

He'll take no more mickey,

Though if you're not picky,

I'll prank all the more in his stead.

George Weasley, the lesser half."

"What do you think?" Charlie asked. He and Lucille had moved right behind Ginny now, and she jumped when she heard his voice.

"I...um..." she sputtered. What did she think? "Well, it certainly is..."

"Strange," Lucille said.

Ginny smiled. "Yeah, strange is the word I'd use. I was thinking of "macabre", but "strange" is better, I think."

"It's George," Charlie said.

"Doesn't it creep out the customers a little?" Ginny asked, earnestly. "I mean...people come to this shop to have a good time. Wouldn't it be upsetting to come across a memorial like this when they're just out to have a laugh?"

"Ah," a voice rang from the back of the shop. "I see you've found Fred's table."

Ginny looked up at George. Unapologetic and straight: that was her brother. "Yes," she thought, "this is probably exactly what customers of Fred and George would expect." A quick, slap-in-the-face kind of reference to an insufferable loss would invite friends and strangers to remember Fred the way he would want to be remembered. She stepped forward and stood on her tiptoes to give George a kiss on his cheek.

"Yes," she said, "I've found Fred's table. I like the candle."

George winked. "I saw it at the Hogwarts Memorial, when I was there with Ron and Hermione for your last Quidditch game. I just had to nick it, I thought it was brilliant."

Ginny smiled and turned to the back room of the store. "Speaking of Ron and Hermione, have you seen them?" she asked, suddenly reminded of her mission. "I'm supposed to get you lot to the house in time for supper." She took two steps toward the stockroom before being stopped by a lasso-like force, pulling at her abdomen. "Hey," she said as she tugged against the pull.

"I wouldn't go in there," George said. He lowered his wand and Ginny stumbled forward. "I've just come from a rather unpleasant introduction to the finer points of kissing, courtesy of our two lovebirds in there and -"

"Ew," Ginny interrupted. "Don't say any more. I'll just wrap on the door and let them know that we'll be waiting for them."

After a few minutes, a somewhat ruffled Hermione finally appeared at the backroom door, clearing her throat several times and inquiring as to when they should leave for dinner. The group Apparated to the Burrow, leaving Ginny behind with Lucille and Charlie, who were setting the security spells on the shop's entrance. Swallowing her pride, Ginny admitted to her brother that she was "having trouble" with Apparating, and Lucille quickly insisted on a Side-along trip to the Burrow to avoid the long trek to the nearest Floo.

"Oh, good. There she is," Ginny's mum called out when she arrived in the Burrow's family room. "Ginny, dear, I believe we have something of yours in here."

"Something of mine?" Ginny wondered as she followed her mum's voice into the kitchen. "What is she on about?" Her face lit up when she saw a red-faced Harry Potter seated at the far end of the table, casting his eyes downward and looking to be plotting an escape.

"He's been here for a while now, wanting to go to that shop and see you, but I told him to stay put or you lot would never get back."

Ginny's face burned at this remark and she stood there for a second, staring at her mum with her jaw hanging open slightly. "Mum!" she said.

"Oh, pish posh," Mrs. Weasley said, waving her dish towel haphazardly toward Ginny and dismissing the girl's embarrassment. "I only meant that everyone would want to talk to Harry about the business with the Holding House and poor, poor Mr. O'Neil." She straightened up and set her hands on her hips, surveying the table Harry was seated at. A large, stuffed Christmas goose sat proudly in the center, piled high with roasted potatoes, onions and carrots. It smelled wonderful - of rosemary and sage - and Ginny took in a noseful while she waited for the color to leave her cheeks.

"Looks like we're ready. I just need to set the table and gather the troops," Mrs. Weasley declared.

Ginny took her wand out and removed her cloak, returning it to its hook in the hall cupboard. Charlie and Lucille had stayed in the family room with Bill and Fleur, and Ginny guessed that everyone else was scattered somewhere around the house. Percy had sent a note that he'd be by, which completed the reunion and made everything seem kind of normal again. On the counter by the sink, she noticed a glass half-full of eggnog and looked from it to her mum and then to Harry. He smirked back and nodded.

"Mum," Ginny said. "Why don't you go freshen up for dinner. Harry and I can take over from here."

Mrs. Weasley ran a hand through her tousled hair. "Oh, thank you. Yes. Lovely," she said. She turned to Harry and gave him a surreptitious grin before leaving the kitchen, saying, "You two behave now, I'll be back in two blinks."

A hearty chuckle caused Ginny to turn her head toward Harry. "How many cups of that spiked eggnog has she had?" she asked.

"Three since I've arrived," Harry said. "But I suspect she'd been hitting it all afternoon." He chuckled again and walked over to Ginny, giving her a hug. "Fleur was in the kitchen when I got here, making some recommendations about ingredients and so forth."

"Oh," Ginny said. She threw her arms around Harry's neck and smiled up at him. "So, you saved Mum from quality time with her daughter-in-law, did you?"

Harry dropped a kiss on Ginny's nose. "She's quite keen to have me here, you know."

"I'll bet she is." Ginny felt warm again, her face heating up from the chaste kiss. She was starving and the kitchen smelled wonderful, which made being in Harry's comfortable embrace feel all the more welcome.

"And not just because my arrival reminded Fleur that she hadn't yet changed out of her "cooking and cleaning clothes" either," Harry said. He squeezed Ginny gently - not the brutish bear hug that she'd received from her beloved Charlie earlier, but a soft, intimate, trying-to-press-every-body-part-together hug - and Ginny parted her lips in response. "She's been going on and on about how happy she is that we're together."

"Oh, no," Ginny muttered. Her mum could embarrass a rock if she was sufficiently motivated.

Harry dragged his cheek across Ginny's and placed a whispery kiss on her lips. "Oh, yes," he returned. "Seems we're to be married."

Ginny was just about to launch herself at Harry's insufferably close mouth when his words registered their impact. "What?" she gasped.

Laughing, Harry pulled Ginny in again for another squeeze. "It's okay," he said. "Your mum was just thinking out loud, I think. And I'm flattered to know that she thinks I'd be a suitable mate for her lovely and talented daughter." Ginny groaned into Harry's shoulder. "The good news is," he continued, his voice bright with amusement, "that your father would approve, she thinks."

"I want to die," Ginny said, stepping backward and removing herself from her boyfriend's grasp. She pointed her wand at the cupboards and began setting the table. "I simply want to die."

"Please don't," Harry quipped. "That would make me a widower, and I'd just as soon not have that title just yet."

They arranged the stoneware plates, glasses, utensils and cloth napkins, taking turns giggling at random at their own discomfort. "She's having a rough time of it," Harry said after they finished, "your mum."

Ginny looked at the glass of eggnog and closed her eyes. "Yeah," she said. "I know."

"Listen, I want to talk to you about what we've been doing. The Aurors." Harry sat down at the table and Ginny took a chair next to him.

"I heard what happened to one of the Aurors, Harry," she said, recalling the story Bill and Fleur had brought with them and feeling a sharp sting in her chest. "I'm so sorry. Did you know him well?"

Harry looked at Ginny for a moment and dropped his eyes. "He was a friend," he said. "His office is right next to mine...we used to catch a late dinner sometimes at the Ministry's cafeteria."

"Oh," Ginny breathed. She'd been hoping that Mr. O'Neil was unfamiliar to Harry, as he was to herself. Someone who'd suffered the worst of all fates, but who's story could be empathized from a third-party distance...seriously, reverently, but nonetheless impersonally.

"He..." Harry began. He brought his hands together and knocked them on the table a few times, looking like he was collecting his thoughts. "I don't know what to make of it."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

Harry knocked his hands again on the table and looked up at Ginny. "I mean...nobody wants to die, of course, and it's hard for those of us who are left behind to reconcile the loss, but..." He unwrapped his fingers and removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses on his tan-colored t-shirt, leaving the rest of his thoughts hanging in the air for Ginny to ponder.

"Harry?" Ginny goaded. She heard noises coming from the family room - laughter - and wished for once that the world would just give her and Harry the privacy they needed to have a complete conversation.

"I don't know what to make of a lost soul," Harry said.

His voice was quiet, but solid; he'd been thinking about this for a while, Ginny thought. She felt embarrassed that she hadn't given Mr. O'Neil's fate more than a moment's appreciation - her concerns had zoomed straight past the poor guy and his family as she'd fretted about a missed boyfriend.

"All right everyone, I think we're about ready" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang down from the stairs. "Someone go and fetch your father from the woodshed and let's all sit down to dinner."

Ginny reached over and grabbed Harry's arm, desperate to get in a consolatory word before the mealtime mayhem ensued. "I'm sorry," was all she could think to say.

Harry nodded and smiled. Chairs scooted in and out around the two and they were soon swallowed up in the spirited conversations that had been going on upstairs and in the family room. Somewhere between passing dishes and laughing at Fred's rundown of Ron's first attempt at holding a staff meeting, Harry managed to lean over and speak in Ginny's ear.

"We're going to double our efforts," he said. "And I want to take you to a Holding House tomorrow to show you some defensive techniques, just in case you ever need them. What happened to Red - his name was Rutherford, but we all called him Red - it won't happen again, Ginny. I promise."

Ginny swallowed her mouthful of potatoes and smiled back, meditatively. "Sure, Harry," she thought. "You just keep telling yourself that." Maybe he'd throw in a century or two of world peace while he was at it.