the hallows - f. weasley

- c h a p t e r - e i g h t e e n -

a/n

tw: self-destructive/suicidal thoughts

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 She didn't remember passing out.

She didn't remember the brief moments of consciousness when Fleur was gently spoon-fed her something, Luna would be singing, Harry would be murmuring and asking her questions, or Hermione would be curled up next to her while Ron slept in a chair in the corner.

She didn't remember any of it.

But the first time she was fully conscious–she woke up having a panic attack, and Bill was there to save her from it.

"Hey, hey, hey," He murmured as she woke up screaming and blindly thrashing around. "You're okay...I got you..."

Her body still ached and cried at her as she struggled to reign in her emotions–Bill's arms wrapped around her as he walked her through it, but when she finally was calm, she started to cry again–more controlled but inconsolable.

But when her eyes closed to bring some sense of relief, she watched her mum die again and again and again–just an endless cycle of death.

Which made her cry even harder.

But Bill just sat with her–letting her cry as he murmured encouragements until a familiar head of frizzy blonde hair slipped in through the door.

"Littlest Wolf?" Luna's timid, airy voice called.

Gemma–whose eyes were wide open as she cried–turned and found Luna standing there.

She looked frail and exhausted–but her eyes seemed to glimmer with life. And in her hands was a plate of toasts and a little friend who leapt out of her hands and onto the bed, scurrying as quickly as possible to Gemma.

"Sc-Scotch!" Gemma hiccoughed as the Niffler crawled right into her arms and nestled his face into her neck, sniffling the whole time.

He buried himself in her matted hair, clinging to her like gold.

She kissed his little head over and over and over again as Bill kissed Gemma's head and let Luna take his spot. Luna immediately wrapped her arms around Gemma–laying her head on top of the redhead's as they just sat there, listening to Gemma sniffle and hiccough.

"It was my fault, right?" Gemma croaked out–her throat aching still, probably from the screaming. "You getting taken?"

Luna shook her head, "Not even a little bit."

"I don't really believe you..."

Luna leaned away from Gemma–her eyes serious and wide as she firmly replied, "If you ever never believe me about anything else, you better believe me about this."

"But how do you know—"

"Because it was my choice to continue to help writing about Harry and his fight–not yours. I convinced Daddy, too. So you better not blame yourself for any of it."

"I'll try not to."

"You promise?"

"...I promise."

Gemma leaned further into Luna's embrace as they lay there in silence.

Luna started pulling apart the knots in Gemma's hair–humming softly to fill the space.