Ginny Weasley and the Year of Healing

Chapter one: Vaugely Summer

Ginny was tired. A bone deep weariness had set up inside of her. She was tired of her overbearing family, tired of the well wishers. She was sick of her own face reflected back at her. The war had stretched on, impossibly long. After enduring a year of hell at school, the battle at hogwarts had pushed the death eaters back from the campus. But they were not defeated. The second Harry has revealed himself alive, Voldemort vanished. The Order spent another six months looking for him. It was imperative they not allow him to create any more horcrux. Of course Ginny hadn't known that at the time. She hadn't known anything she thought bitterly. It had taken them another four months to figure out a plan of attack and a month later, in April Voldemort had been defeated.

Ginny shivered, despite the warm sunshine flittering across her skin. It would be august soon but to Ginny it felt like nothing. The scar on her face pulsed, still angry and irritated. Soon she'd have to return to school, to the dull mundanity she had wished for. Only now as she sat outside under a large oak tree trying to enjoy the summer breeze, normal seemed unattainable. A childish fancy, one that never really existed at all.

A shadow fell over Ginny but she didn't bother to look up. Only one other person wanted solitude like her. The rest of them took comfort in being together. George sat solemnly beside her, staring out at the windswept grass. They found each other often now that the war had ended. Now that there was too much time to think and agonize over the aftermath. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been glued together at the hip, not that she blamed them. If anything she was jealous of them. Someone to lean on, someone who had experienced the exact same horrors. Yeah Ginny was envious. Sure she had Neville and Luna. But they had their own problems, issues that had nothing to do with her.
For the first time Ginny felt truly alone and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. Truthfully she didn't know if she even wanted to deal with it. All of the anger and spite that drove her before was just gone. Now her bones were hollow and she was one bad breeze away from floating off. She sighed and leaned her head against George's shoulder. They sat there together silently until the sun had set and Ginny knew their mother would be after them.

She offered her hand to George, pulling him up and walking hand in hand back towards the burrow. The burrow was different, its newer additions too bright for the run down exterior. The closer she got, the more claustrophobic Ginny felt. The house was always full now, bustling in the post war haze. Members of the Ministry floated in and out, updating them on any latest news or rebuilding efforts. To Ginny it felt stifling, like she was walking on eggshells. There were no opportunities for her to just be. And she desperately wanted to just exist, to find the time to sort out the mess her head had become.

"Ginny? Where've you been? Mums been going mental looking for you."

"Oi! Ginny!"

Ginny ignored Ron and continued into the house. Someone was always looking for her now. Afraid she was going to go off the deep end she supposed.

"Hi mum."

Her voice sounded ragged even to her own ears. But Molly paid that no mind, glancing up from the cookbook page she'd been reading her face softened. It made Ginny feel sick, like her mother could see straight into her soul. Like Molly could see how broken and purposeless she was. She turned her head, having already tuned out whatever her mother was saying. Ginny meandered her way through the house not stopping until she opened a window and climbed out onto the roof. Then she could take a full breath again.

The stars were twinkling so brightly but Ginny was focused on not gripping her legs so tightly they bled. Her mother would give her as much space as she could, as long as she held it together. That included finishing school, which she had agreed to no objections. School wasn't the problem, she was. Violent memories swirled around Ginny's mind, it felt hard to discern what was happening now and what was simply a memory. Which was why she preferred to be alone, that way no one could see how badly she was losing her mind.

That made Ginny feel guilty as well. Harry had died, who was she to feel insane? The same toxic hurtful thoughts kept bouncing around her mind, she felt like screaming. She might have if she thought it would help. Instead it would just bring more problems, cause more concern. Everyone already thought she was going to shatter if they looked at her too long. And maybe they were right. Maybe during class one day she'll just snap and they'll cart her off to St. Mungo's for the rest of her days.

The sound of the window sliding open pulled Ginny out of her thoughts. She chanced a look back and saw it was Harry this time. Her heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. She could still picture him dead, unmoving in Hagrids arms. The echoes of her scream reverberated inside of her head. She shook her head to clear the image away.

"Thought I would come out and warn you. Molly will be livid if you don't come down for dinner."

Ginny nodded appreciatively. And in the same dead voice she'd used to greet her mother, said "Thanks Harry."

Ginny was glad when he didn't leave. If anyone had an inkling as to what she felt, Harry did. He never pushed her or became curious over her time at Hogwarts. He simply endured, silent beside her lost in his own thoughts. They sat comfortably for a while until a knock on the window glass startled Harry so badly he nearly fell off the roof. She had almost cracked a smile at that.

Dinner for Ginny was always a rushed mess she couldn't remember. She felt far away from the moment, cocooned deep inside her own head. Like her head was underwater, everything was muffled. The noise rose and muddled together, a cacophony of nothingness. It wasn't until Hermione pinched her side that she even realized her mother was talking to her.

"Sorry mum I didn't catch that."

The look of pity her mother gave her seemed permanently etched on her face.

"I was just asking Hermione if you two would like to join me for some shopping later. Nothing school related we've still plenty of time to gather that. But just to get out of the house..."
Molly trailed off and Ginny saved her poor mother the trouble of continuing.

"Yeah mum that sounds great."

Ginny didn't remember the rest of dinner or even how she had gotten back up on the roof. Nor did she know how long she had been outside. But she could feel the wind whipping her hair around. It was longer than it had ever been. It nearly reached down to her knees. Usually someone braided it for her, otherwise she'd let it knot up. The war had been over for almost three months. Her father had already returned to work and the majority of major reconstruction had begun. But it would be years before they saw everything fixed and the scars would always remain.
Ginny tried her best to not think of the war, any of it. In fact she made it her personal mission to block every memory pertaining to it that she could.

In the immediate aftermath of Voldemort's death, Ginny had gone missing. She could vaguely recall running through a forest of trees but most of that week was missing from her mind. And that didn't bother her one bit. They'd classified it as a mental break at St. Mungo's. There was no evidence of physical harm and Ginny had shown up to the burrow of her own accord a week after she went missing.
That was the reason everyone treated her like glass, they were afraid she would run off again.

Ginny woke up in her own bed unsure as to how she got there. But in the end it was inconsequential. She had made it to bed and that was all that mattered. Hermione was already awake, staring listlessly at the ceiling. It almost shocked Ginny to see her there. Usually Hermione would sneak out in the night to go sleep in Ron's room. Then she remembered they had agreed to go out with her mother, so Hermione had probably opted to not get caught. Though Ginny had a sneaking suspicion her mother already knew and simply turned a blind eye. She groaned internally, buying clothes wasn't going to suddenly make her feel like a person. But she knew this was more for her mum than for her so she busied herself with getting ready.

Hermione eventually got up as well, saying nothing to Ginny. Neither of them ever seemed up for talking these days, but Hermione silently braided Ginny's hair anyway. Something Ginny was endlessly thankful for even if she didn't say it. Together they descended the uneven stairs down to the front room. Molly was waiting with breakfast ready and the three of them ate in comfortable silence. George even came down and joined them. These days George was often missing from meals, Ginny would steal him a plate after everyone left if she were in her right mind
.
"Alright let's step to it! I'm sure it's going to be bustling already. We've got three weeks until..."
Ginny bristled under her mother's words but the steadying hand George laid on her shoulder calmed her. I fought in a bloody war, I can brave a few shops. She thought irritated. She squeezed George's hand on her shoulder then stood to join her mother and Hermione.