The First Day

George stood by the kitchen door and took a deep breath. Meals were still the worst time of the day. Even more than falling asleep, and waking up, which when George allowed himself to think about it, struck him as highly ironic, since they had slept in the same room since birth. Molly had even told them they had to sleep in the same cot, because they cried when separated. He pushed the door open, and slid into a chair, across from Harry. George gazed at him curiously. Harry usually joined the family a few times a week for meals. Most of the time it was just dinner. And Harry stayed long enough to be polite, ate a few bites of whatever it was that Molly put on his plate, then with a near-inaudible whisper, excused himself. George knew he had to be eating something when everyone else was asleep. But whatever it was he ate, it wasn't enough. He's always been a scrawny git, but this is getting out of hand...

Ron clattered into the kitchen. He had come inside and run upstairs, looking like he had wrestled a troll, five minutes earlier. Hermione had followed him, looking rather disheveled herself. Ron dropped into a chair, running a hand through his damp hair. George squinted at him. A small purple mark graced Ron's collarbone, partially hidden by the collar of his shirt. George raised an eyebrow at Ron's attire. Ron normally only wore button-down shirts when he had to, and he was voluntarily wearing one now. George reached over and hooked a finger into the collar of Ron's shirt. 'What's that mark on you?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Ron muttered, jerking the shirt from George's grasp. Hermione sat next to Ron, her hair tamed into a plait, wearing a clean shirt. They carefully avoided looking at each other, but Ron leaned over and whispered something to her. Hermione peered at the skin under the shirt collar.

'I'll fix it after dinner,' she promised in a low voice. Ron looked relieved, and shot George a look.

'Fix what?' Molly asked, trying to look at Ron's collarbone.

'Nothing, Mum,' Ron said irritably, trying to avoid the inevitable barrage of questions from his mother.

'Ron ripped his shirt earlier,' Hermione lied smoothly, her cheeks turning pink. 'It was my fault. I tripped.'

Ginny, who had just taken a swallow of pumpkin juice, began to cough. She gave her friend a look. 'And your mouth landed on his neck?' she muttered. Ron and Hermione both gave her wide-eyed looks. But Molly hadn't heard the comment. Ron had left the top two buttons undone in a concession to the heat but did up one more. He gave Ginny a rude hand gesture he masked, by running his hand through his hair. Ginny just rolled her eyes.

It was a relief for Ron when they were able to escape to the front garden after dinner. Hermione touched his skin with the tip of her wand and whispered, 'Episkey.' The mark faded in a few seconds. 'Sorry about that,' she murmured shyly. 'Guess I got carried away.' She lowered herself to the bench next to Ron, wincing slightly.

'Did I hurt you?' he asked anxiously.

'Not really. I mean I sort of expected it to...'

'Sorry...' Ron laced his hands together and tucked them between his knees. 'I didn't mean to. You probably think I'm a pig going after you like that.'

Hermione shoved his shoulder. 'There were two of us involved, you know.'

'I suppose...'

'If I didn't want to...' Hermione blushed and made a vague gesture. 'You know...' She coughed. 'I wouldn't have.'

'Right...' Ron flushed so brightly, Hermione fancied she could feel the heat radiating from Ron's skin. 'You don't regret it, do you?' he asked apprehensively.

'No.'

Ron released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 'You really never kissed Krum?'

'I thought we settled that...' Hermione nudged him.

'Well, everyone thought you had.'

'Everyone ought to mind their own business.' Hermione settled against Ron's side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 'Not that we didn't try,' she added. 'Every time we tried, I started giggling uncontrollably.' She reached out a hand toward the Flutterby bush next to the bench. 'Never got past the chaste peck.'

Ron stiffened. 'I thought you said you didn't -' He was cut off by Hermione's mouth landing on his.

'Never got to that,' she told him primly.

'Oh. Well, then...' Ron grinned and pulled Hermione into his lap. 'What time are you leaving tomorrow?'

'Late. Ten tomorrow night, I think. I'm going to meet Kingsley at the Ministry, for the first Portkey.'

'Can I come with you?'

Hermione hesitated. She stroked the hair that fell into Ron's face away from his eyes. 'No...' she breathed. 'It's not that I don't want you to come with me, it'll just be easier to leave.'

'Fine...' Ron heaved a disappointed sigh.

'Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it.'

*****

Ron dove into the river with Ginny. Hermione had been gone a few days, and Ron missed her terribly. Even more than the weeks he had hidden at Bill's last year. 'What are you going to do?' Ginny asked when he came up for air.'

Spewing out a mouthful of water, Ron shrugged. 'I'm not sure. It's a nice offer and all... But I'm not sure I want to take it.'

'Why not?' Ginny lazily swam a few strokes past him. 'You wouldn't have to go back to school or anything.'

Ron put his feet on the river's bottom, wiggling his toes as minnows came to investigate the intrusion. 'I think I might want a break after the last year.' He let out a bark of ironic laughter. 'The last seven, if you really want to get technical.'

'You could always go in later,' suggested Ginny.

Ron shrugged again. 'I don't know.' Owls had come that morning for him and Harry. Letters from the Minister offering them both positions as full Aurors, without N.E.W.T.s no less. 'I don't really know what I want to do.'

Ginny didn't say anything, but she, too, didn't have a clue what she wanted to do when she finished school. She envied George and Fred the shop, Charlie and his dragons, and Bill's work as a Charm breaker, which he often assured her sounded sexier than it really was. Percy had always wanted to work for the Ministry. And here were the youngest two Weasleys - adrift in more ways than one. 'Gwenog Jones was here last month,' she said idly. 'Said I should look into playing professionally...' She looked at Ron. 'Would it bother you?'

'If you played?' Ginny nodded in reply. Ron considered his baby sister. He liked playing at school, but even he had to admit the pressure got to him and couldn't imagine doing it every day. But Ginny had seemed to thrive on the challenge, especially in her fifth year when Harry had all those Saturday detentions, and she smoothly made the shift from Chaser to Seeker. He figured she would probably play a hell of a Keeper, as well. 'Nope. Not at all. Just as long as I can come see you play whenever I want.'

'Git.' Ginny splashed water at him. 'Like I could keep you away.' She floated in the water, gazing at the cloud formations above them. 'I miss Fred,' she said abruptly, her chin trembling.

Ron paddled to her, and grabbed her hand. 'I do, too.'

To Ginny's horror, she sniffled and tears mixed with river water ran down her face. 'It's not the same,' she choked. 'George doesn't laugh anymore. No pranks to plan...'

Ron said nothing. He had learned with Ginny when they were small to stay quiet and let her have it out. He pulled her out of the water, leading her to the old blanket spread across the river bank, and wrapped his arms around her. Ginny wept against his shoulder, breaking into noisy wails that threatened pull Ron under, too. He stroked her wet hair, and held her until her cries subsided.

*****

Molly tapped her wand against the teakettle, and poured the boiling water over the tea leaves in the pot. Arthur set the tin of ginger biscuits on the table and opened it. Molly Summoned two cups to the table and filled them with tea, adding milk to Arthur's and sugar to her own. She pushed Arthur's cup across the table to him, and accepted the handful of biscuits he offered with the ease of long familiarity. It was part of their routine. No matter how dark things got, they stole a few moments each night that belonged to just them, a practice begun when Percy was born. 'George looks better,' commented Arthur.

'Still doesn't eat much,' Molly countered.

'Neither do you,' Arthur pointed out.

'And you don't sleep.'

Arthur shrugged. 'I know.'

They both looked up at the ceiling as the sounds of screaming drifted from the floor above, despite the Silencing charms they knew Harry put on the room. Harry didn't always wake from his nightmares and more than once, he'd woken them all in the early hours of the morning as he wrestled his own private demons. He would never say what they were about. Arthur vaulted out of his chair and dashed upstairs. Harry was thrashing wildly in the bed and rolled out of it just as Arthur shouldered Ginny aside and murmured a hasty Aguamenti. The shock of the cold water seemed to be the only thing that would rouse him when he was this deep into a nightmare. Ron appeared silently next to Arthur and waited for his father to perform a Drying charm on his friend, while Molly set the bed to rights. Harry never actually regained consciousness during this time, but he seemed to settle into something more restful. Every time Ron helped Arthur put Harry back into the bed, he feared for Harry a little bit more. Harry was getting thinner and thinner as the weeks passed by. When Ron slid his arms under Harry to lift his torso off the floor, he could feel each rib under his fingers. Molly tucked the bedding around Harry, and tenderly smoothed the hair from his face. Ginny saw Molly bite her lip in distress at how much he had deteriorated. Ron left and went back upstairs to his room. Ginny stood on the landing, waiting until her parents disappeared back into the kitchen, before darting into her room and unearthing an Extendable Ear. She carefully played out the string to the gap under the kitchen door, and put the other end in her ear.

'I don't know what to do, Arthur,' Molly sniffed. 'I'm starting to think St. Mungo's might be our only option soon.'

'You don't think he's had some sort of spell damage, do you? From that Killing curse in the Forest?' Arthur asked uneasily.

'I don't know.' Ginny heard Molly take a sip of tea and set the cup down on the table. 'I'm afraid if we don't do something soon, we're going to lose him, too.' Her voice cracked. 'I can't lose another child,' she said in a strangled voice.

Ginny quickly yanked the Extendable Ear back up the stairs, and rolled it up. 'Right,' she murmured. 'Enough is enough.'

*****

Ginny began to stalk Harry. For two days, Harry tried to ignore the silent girl that followed him nearly everywhere. At least she hasn't followed me into the loo yet, but I wouldn't put it past her... he thought. She never said anything to him, just pinned him with at that look of hers. The one that said, 'I can wait for you to crack.' She never actually intruded into his personal space, but she hovered on the edge of his awareness. He knew she was there, sitting on the stairs, outside the bedroom, strolling nonchalantly behind him as he walked the length of the paddock. And just when he thought she was starting to come closer, she was gone. It unnerved Harry to no end.

By the third afternoon, Harry was worn out from trying to block her out. His mental defenses were eroded to nothing, else he would have lasted longer. He came to a stop in the back garden, and said in a low, rusty voice. 'What?'

Ginny said nothing.

'Damn it, Ginny! What?' Harry ground out whirling around to face her. She was two steps behind him.

'You're hurting Mum,' she said quietly.

Harry had the decency to look ashamed. 'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, then turned around, heading for the end of the paddock once more.

Ginny doggedly followed him. 'You're hurting the rest of us!' She saw his shoulders stiffen, but kept going. 'Who do you think wakes you from the nightmares? Who do you think puts you back to bed? You think it's magic? Sorry, chum, it's all of us! Damn it, Harry, we effing care about you!'

Harry kept walking, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, eyes on the ground in front of him.

Ginny jogged to catch up to him, and began walking next to him. 'They stay up nights, talking about you,' she spat. 'Mum and Dad.'

Harry came to a dead stop, a few yards away from a stand of oak trees. 'What do you want from me, Ginny?' he asked.

'I want you to stop beating yourself up.'

Harry jerked angrily and took a few steps closer to the oak trees. 'You want things to go back they way they were before the war,' he ground out between clenched teeth.

Ginny reared back. 'How can they?' she countered softly. 'When they can't?'

Harry couldn't stand it any more. 'What do you want, Ginny?' he yelled.

In that instant, something crystallized for Ginny. She wanted an apology for all the worry he had put her through, for all the sleepless nights, for the anguish she'd felt when she saw Hagrid carry him from the Forest, seemingly dead. Because in that moment, all her hopes and dreams had died with him. 'You left me. For nearly a year, with nothing.'

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Even Ginny should have been able to realize the seriousness of the situation when he'd disappeared. 'For God's sake, Ginny, it wouldn't have been safe for you,' he entreated. When her mutinous expression didn't change, Harry tried logic. 'You were underage. And even if you had been able to come with us, you still had the Trace on you.'

Ginny gasped softly. 'So I was nothing more than a liability for you?'

Harry watched her eyes shutter. 'No! Of course not! But if anything had happened to you, I would have died...' He found himself standing inches away from her.

'That's just lovely,' Ginny commented sarcastically. 'That really helps after all those nights lying awake, wondering if you had died, trying to find a Potterwatch broadcast on the wireless. All those times the Carrows let the Slytherins practice the Cruciatus on us for detentions.' Ginny felt the simmering anger and resentment well up, and her hand flew through the air and landed with a loud crack on Harry's face. 'That's for leaving me last summer!'

Harry felt his face erupt in flames. He kept his hands in his pockets. Before he could say anything else, Ginny's other hand sailed through his peripheral vision, and his head rocked to the side with the force of the blow. 'That's for not standing up for me in the Room of Requirement!' Faster than the second one had come, the third slap snapped through the still, hot afternoon. 'That's for making me think you were dead!' she shrieked. And just as quickly, a fourth.

Harry stood silently with his head bowed.

Ginny was panting, now that the rage had spent itself. She started shaking, as she realized she had left a collection of bright red handprints on Harry's wasted face. Oh, God, what did I do...?

When Ginny didn't say anything, Harry raised his head to meet her dismayed eyes. 'What was the last one for?' he asked hoarsely, distressed at the expression of dread on her face.

Ginny shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She turned around and ran for the river. Harry started to take a step after her, but spun around and stumbled to the tumbledown stone wall that marked the southern boundary of the paddock. Once there, Harry collapsed to the ground, facedown in the grass. Groaning, he turned on his back, his hands pressed to his face. His cheeks felt like they had been burned. He pulled his wand from his pocket, and shakily used a Severing charm to slice off part of the end of his shirt. He pointed the wand at the cloth, and without saying anything, doused it in cold water. Harry pressed the cold compress to his face, realizing with a slight shock, he had performed non-verbal magic. He let out a bitter laugh. Snape was right, you really do have to mean it... He stayed in the paddock, huddled against the wall; until he was certain Molly had begun to serve dinner. Harry painfully pushed himself to his feet and went back to the house, going around to the front door, and slipping inside and up to Bill's bedroom before anyone could exhort him to join them at the table.

*****

Ginny tripped and tumbled to the ground. She had never slapped someone like that before, least of all someone she loved. She couldn't stop the wrenching sobs that surged from the core of her being. The entire year at school, she had only cried once. And that was the first time the Carrows let Crabbe practice the Cruciatus. She refused to cry, because if she cried, it made her feel weak. And she couldn't let anyone see the fear she carried with her. Ginny hadn't meant to slap him like that, but she really didn't realize she'd slapped him until sound of the last one forced its way past the roaring of her ears. 'Oh, dear God...' she gasped. Her hands stung from the force of the blows. Ginny curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. She reluctantly returned to the house, more than half-afraid to see Harry. When she trudged into the kitchen, Molly looked at her intently, but mercifully said nothing. Ginny dropped into her chair at the table, and spent twenty minutes picking at her dinner, before asking if she could be excused. When she left the table, she fled to her room, and climbed into bed, pulling the bedding over her head.

*****

Harry threw the blankets off and padded downstairs to the kitchen. His face still throbbed from earlier that afternoon. It was the first thing he had really felt, other than guilt, in weeks. He stretched his cheeks in a wide grimace. 'Ow.' He had examined his face in the bathroom earlier. Light bruises swept up his jutting cheekbones. Harry's hand tightened on the handle of his wand, ready to perform a quick Healing charm, but instead of pointing it at himself, he let the wand slide back into the pocket of his pajama bottoms.

Once in the kitchen, Harry stood in the middle of the room, unsure of why he was there. His stomach gurgled and Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, thinking he was going to throw up. The gurgling grew more insistent and he realized belatedly, that he was hungry. He drifted to a cupboard, and began to assemble a sandwich that he wolfed down in five bites. A jug of milk sat on the counter, under a Cooling charm, and Harry reached for a glass and filled it with milk. Slow down; you're going to make yourself sick... He forced himself to sip the milk, and not gulp it down. Setting the glass down on the counter, he made himself another sandwich, and ate it slowly; mindful of the fact he hadn't eaten since... When was the last time I ate a meal? He had been sneaking down to the kitchen at night after every one had gone to bed, and had forced himself to eat something that he could keep down, which inevitably ended up being yogurt or pudding. Fortunately, neither required much effort on his part to consume.

Harry cleaned up the mess he'd made and began the trek to the bathroom to brush his teeth again. After he rinsed his toothbrush, he heard someone thrashing around. It was coming from Ron's room. He stood indecisively on the landing, before Ginny's words pierced his brain. Who do you think wakes you from the nightmares? He swiftly climbed the next two flights of stairs, and began to shake Ron awake.