Begin Again

Aftermath

Today is Fred's funeral.

The wizarding world has been free of Voldemort for four days and we are all mourning the ones we've lost.

I wake early and slip into a plain, knee-length black dress and a pair of tights. I pull my hair back into a low bun. I stand in front of the mirror for a few moments, dazed. I haven't known what to feel these past few days. Voldemort is gone. Everyone is celebrating, but there is still a gloom cast over us; a dark cloud that I feel myself consumed by.

I open my bedroom door and tiptoe down the hallway to Ron's room, knocking softly on the door. Harry opens it. He's dressed already and wide awake.

"Ron's still asleep," he whispers. "Do you want to step outside?"

I nod. Outside, we breathe in the early morning air, sitting in silence on the dewy grass. Harry grabs my hand and I lean my head on his shoulder. We watch the sun rise in the pink sky.

"It's strange," he says, "I don't feel anything."

"Me neither." I tell him, and we lock eyes. "I... Can't."

"We should be overjoyed, right?" he asks. "Ecstatic. Voldemort is gone. Forever. But there's just this sinking feeling..."

"Because everyone's gone," I say, choking on a sob. Fat tears spill down my cheeks and my body heaves. Harry reacts instantly, pulling me into a protective embrace.

"Not everyone," he whispers in my ear. "Not on my watch. You're still here. I'm still here. And you have a family who loves you. And I love you." He kisses my neck and wipes my tears.

"I love you too," I tell him.

"Come on," he says, helping me up. "Let's go inside and have a cup of tea. Everyone else will be up soon."

I follow him inside. Though it's no secret the others have been awake for hours. No one has been able to sleep.

*******

The funeral takes place just over the hill from us.

Everyone attends the funeral. Everyone who ever knew Fred, even from a distance. Relatives, teachers, classmates, friends. We sprinkle his grave with white rose petals.

Everyone has something to say about Fred. We tell stories, share memories. Even George speaks. Which he hasn't done much of for the past few days.

"He was my partner in crime," says George. His voice sounds strong, determined, but I can feel the grief masked beneath it. "We were in sync. He knew me like no one else could."

Back at the Burrow, we serve food for everyone. We've set up tables in the yard. For a while I mingle in the crowd, trying to socialize with relatives, but after a while I'm beyond overwhelmed. I'm lost in a sea of faces. I excuse myself and escape to my bedroom. As soon as I shut the door, I start to cry.

After a minute or two, someone knocks. "Ginny?" the ask. It's Hermione. I grab a tissue and dab my eyes before letting her in.

"I saw you leave. Are you okay?" she asks, looking concerned.

"I just..." I start. But I have nothing to say.

"Oh, Ginny," says Hermione, pulling me into a hug.

The door creaks open behind us and I look over Hermione's shoulder to see Harry peeking in.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey."

Hermione politely excuses herself, making her way back down to the backyard.

Harry studies me deeply.

"What can I do?" he asks.

"Take me away from here," I plead. In this moment I realize that's all I want.