Love Amongst Warfare

Almond-shaped brown eyes were covered by pale eyelids where blue veins were visible on them. Even while sleeping there were dark rings under long eyelashes touching a freckle-covered cheek. Pink lips were open, breath coming in and breathing out of them in a rhythm that was barely audible. Fiery curls framed this freckled face, long and startling against the contrast of the white pillow and pale skin. In an instant however, this peaceful scene was disrupted by the ringing on an alarm clock on the dresser next to this beautiful young woman. The clock read 6:05 AM.

"I hate my life."

She slowly got up, rubbing the back of her head, looking around the small room to see if there was anything to wear. Clothes were on the edge of the bed she was formerly in, and still wanted to be in. there was clothes on the floor, along with various assortments of shoes, papers, muggle money and a laptop. Clothes on the dresser along with makeup, books (actually, there were books everywhere too), more muggle money, some CD's, and a purse or two. In fact, looking in her closet, there was basically nothing but empty hangars and her old Hogwarts uniform that she had not worn in two years.

Finally, she decided on a peach long sleeved shirt, black dress pants, and boots. All found in various places in her tiny room. She grabbed her wand, the only thing that had a regular spot (top drawer in her nightstand) before going to the bathroom to tame her curls and brush her teeth. Ten minutes after this, she was locking her apartment and walking to where her second home was; work.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~

"Ginny, hey want to go to lunch with me? We're going down to this café that just opened up."

"Nah, I've got work to do, maybe tomorrow or something."

Ginny turned away from her friend, Trisha, back to the papers on her desk. She sighed, and did the exact opposite of working on these papers. She was thinking back as to why she'd decided to exile herself from the wizarding world, when she barely ever socialized with her muggle companions. Sure, she talked to Trisha and Michael when needed. Every once in a while she even went to get smashed with them after work. But too often she got caught up in memories, like she was doing now. Memories that broke her spirit over and over again, numbing her mind again, the mind that kept retreating further and further upon itself, trying to escape. The deaths that would never leave her, the blood that would never leave her hands, the memories that would always heavy her shoulders with their weight..

Ginny sighed, wishing it wasn't so easy to get distracted. Looking back down at the papers on her desk, she sighed once more, this time for a different reason. Since she was the newest of the workers, she had to do the most tedious jobs, which included going through lists. She worked at a publishing company, and her job was to sort the manuscripts coming in first from fiction and nonfiction, and then according to its genre. Then she had to alphabetize them, and then give them to Michael, who did whatever he did with them. She wasn't sure really, what anyone else did. She just had to keep up with the quota that she was expected to fulfill for the day, else her pay would be deducted. Or worse. So that's what she did, from eight in the morning, to five in the afternoon. It earned her decent pay, and she even had a couple perks. All in all she lived a good safe life, with a friend or two. That's all she really needed.

That's all she really had.

"Hey Miss Weasley, how are you?"

Ginny looked up, to see the UPS man (she always forgot his name) walking up towards her desk.

"it's not the usual set of manuscripts. You've got a letter."

Perplexed, Ginny signed for it and took it from his hands. She felt the heavy and familiar feeling of parchment in her hands, and gasped when she saw the wax seal that was on the front.

Hogwarts? But how?

Making sure no one was around to see this, she opened the letter with trembling hands.

Dear Miss Ginerva Weasley,

We regret to inform you that Miss Minerva McGonagall had fallen ill within these late months and has finally passed away. We are holding a funeral service at Hogwarts, and are inviting all Hogwarts students, past and present, to attend. It will be held on the 23^rd of October, Thursday, and there will be a lunch in the Great Hall afterwards.

We hope to see you there.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Flitwick.

Ginny's whole body was trembling, and her eyes were watering. She had finally escaped her past, the only thing haunting her was the memories, the only thing left from that world her wand and Hogwarts uniform, and here she was, holding a piece of parchment after so long, reading words she'd never thought she'd read again, shocked by the thought that had taken hold of her, seized her mind and shaken it, and now she was left with the aftermath.

She was going to this. She was going to abandon everything she had worked for. Totally ignoring the wizarding world, all her pain and everything, and do this. She wasn't going to think about it, wasn't going to put one thought behind it. Because if she did, she would back out of this. She would not go. She would avoid this. She would be rational. She had to go to this. It was freaking Professor McGonagall for Merlin's sake! She couldn't not go. So Ginny had decided. She was going to leave the muggle world behind for a while, as well as her common sense.

"Sounds like a good plan," she whispered to herself, still staring at the parchment in her hands.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~

Gingerly, she brought down a small pouch that was on top of her fireplace. Yes her apartment was tiny, but a perk was that it contained a fireplace. It was rather small, and the previous owner of this apartment was bewildered that she bought this because it had a fireplace. Just in case. Now she had sparkling green powder in her hands, and she was staring at the lit fire, unsure of what she was about to do. She looked like a fiery archangel, her red curls loose about her shoulders, her eyes wide, the fire light reflecting off her hair, off her skin. She was a human phoenix. Sighing, squaring her shoulders, she uncrossed her legs, put on hand on the ground, bent her head over the fire, and sprinkled the floo powder over her. "The Burrow!"

Her head was spinning, she felt like if she was in a tornado, while her hands and knees slowly grew numb. Ginny was wishing she had never had lunch when finally she stopped, and was staring at a living room that was so familiar, and brought back so many memories, her eyes started watering even before she called out the name that meant so much to her.

"Mum?"

Ginny heard a clatter in the kitchen, and a high-pitched voice call. "Oh Ginny is that really you?!" Then her vision was filled with red, as her mom was all she could see.

"Oh Gin, it really is you! Oh, Ginny oh it's so good to see you! We've missed you so much! Oh well, dear how are you? How have things been? Where have you been all this time!"

Ginny was bombarded by the questions, by her mother's excitement, by the tears running down Molly Weasley's reddened cheeks. She felt sticky and hot and cold and claustrophobic all at the same time. Part of her was wishing she was sitting down at their old dinner table having tea, and the other half of Ginny was wishing she had never done this in the first place. Had never breached the silence she had placed so long ago.

But that silence was breached by the letter already, wasn't it?

Ginny swallowed, before answering. "I've been okay, I guess..uhm. actually I came to talk to you about--"

"About McGonagall's death of course," Ginny's mother interrupted.

"How did--how did you know?"

"How did I know? How didn't I know! The whole wizarding world heard about it! McGonagall one of the most influential witches of her time, other than Dumbledore himself. Merlin knows her death would have gotten this sort of reaction. Oh, the poor woman," Mrs. Weasley tsked, before turning back to Ginny.

"Oh, but really dear, how have you been! The whole family really misses you so much! And so do Harry and Hermione. It doesn't feel the same without you," she said sadly.

"It's never going to be the same," Ginny said softly, but she knew her mother wouldn't hear it over the crackling of the flames.

"Uhm, Mum, can--can I ask you something?" Ginny was not someone to beat around the bush, although she had grown a bit more timid since leaving behind the wizarding world, that didn't change the fact that she hated small talk.

"Oh of course dear! Ask away, ask anything you want."

"Uhm. Well I'm going to come for McGonagall's funeral so, uhm. I was wondering if I could you know, meet up with you at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch tomorrow, since that's when I'm..coming back."

"oh, you could always stay here Ginny, we still have your room and--"

"No mum," Ginny said hurriedly, thinking of the sort of reaction she would get if she were staying in her room, the sort of memories that would be triggered. "I'll just rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron instead. It's so much easier and besides it's just..better that way."

Surprisingly, her mother caught something in the way Ginny said this because she did not argue. "Alright Ginny, I'll meet you there say..noon?"

"That's fine. And mum, please just..let's keep this only you and me for now."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, a smile lighting up her face. "Of course. Girls only."

There was a pause then, "I love you mum."

"I love you too, Ginny."

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~

Gathering her clothes from the floor, Ginny put all her clean clothes in a pile, then stared at it for a long moment. Sighing, she pulled out her wand. The long piece of wood that was like her soul in material form. That had not been used in over two years. She waved her wand hesitantly at the pile of clothes, and nothing happened. She sighed, getting her nerves together. This time, Ginny waved her wand with some more confidence, thinking of what she wanted the clothes to do. It took a couple tries, but finally, she managed to at least get the clothes inside her duffel bag.

"Finally."

Sitting down on her bed, she slowly started taking off her clothes, and then lied back on her bed to stare at her ceiling. Her hair was surrounding her again like a beautiful halo, her eyes open and blank. But behind these eyes was a traumatized mind about to walk back into the battlefield she had been trying so hard to avoid in her memories, in her dreams.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself. She didn't understand why she was doing this. But she reasoned that, she wasn't supposed to understand. That if she did, she wouldn't do this. So she wasn't going to think on her trip back to Hogwarts. To the origin of all her happiness, of all her tragedy and sorrow, of all her scars.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~

"No, I'm sorry we don't have any single rooms available. A lot of people are staying here due to the funeral. I suppose you are as well, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny gave Tom, the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron a look of surprise that he knew who she was, but then, she just shrugged it off. Everyone said they could tell a Weasley a mile away.

"Well, do you have anything available at all?"

"If you don't mind sharing a room with someone? There won't be a privacy issue at all, it'll be taken care of. Of course the room will be small since we're diving one."

"Oh, that's fine," Ginny said, sounding relieved. "That's perfect actually."

"Alright well, while I find a room, I'll take your bags, and you can have a drink here."

"That sounds just lovely Tom. Thanks."

As Ginny ordered and waited for her drink to come, she closed her eyes, thinking back to all the times she spent here, remembering the laughter and petty arguments as if they were occurring at that very moment.

"One butterbeer?"

Ginny looked up and nodded, signaling that it was hers, and took a sip. Ah, the memories! They were killing Ginny inside. Why am I doing this? I'm going to go completely mental before this is over. What the hell am I thinking?! Wrong. Why the hell am I not thinking! Sighing, she continued drinking, every taste of the familiar drink burning down her throat as if she had ordered an extra strong firewhiskey.

"Ms. Weasley, we have a room for you," came a voice from behind her. She turned around and saw Tom carrying her bag. He gestured for her to follow, so she did. He led her through the bar, up the stairs, and down all the rooms, to the very last one. Room 306. He opened the door and she saw that a dark blue curtain had been conjured to divide the room in half, so that it was as if Ginny had her own room.

"Oh, this is perfect," she said, taking her bag from Tom and setting it on top of her bed. Ginny wasn't really planning on unpacking; she doubted she was staying here after Thursday. She looked back at Tom, who was standing at the doorway staring at her.

"Uhm, if I may, who's my roommate?"

"Oh, well he's right here, why don't you get yourselves acquainted?"

Ginny stared for a moment at Tom, and then from the left of the open doorway, came silvery white blonde hair framing a perfectly pale face, and the coldest pair of gray eyes she'd ever seen.

"Fuck," she whispered. It was none other than Draco Malfoy glaring at her from the other end of the room.