Ginny's Sixth Year

Chapter 33

Bill's cottage was beautiful, but I didn't have time to take it all in. Apperating had been hard on my many broken bones, and I crumpled to the ground when I felt my ribs and foot rebreaking. 

"Ginny! Are you alright?" Charlie asked, clearly surprised.

I moaned, but I nodded. Fred lifted me up, careful not to touch my ribcage. 

Charlie ran up to the house and banged on the door. When Bill didn't come, he shouted for him. "Bill! It's Charlie! It's an emergency!"

Bill flung open the door and drew his wand at Charlie. "What was my nickname for you when you were about ten?"

"Charred Weasel. And you thought it was so amusing, too. Now, will you let us in?"

Bill was clearly exhausted and hadn't slept in days. His long hair hadn't been brushed and he was wearing a too-big  Weasley jumper inside-out. He had huge dark circles under his eyes and did not look very happy with us for interrupting his supper. His eyes drifted from Charlie to Fred, George, and I, and he quickly ran towards us. He took me out of Fred's arms and sprinted inside the house. 

Fleur came rushing towards the couch where Bill had set me down. "Episkey," she said. My jaw went hot and then cold. "'Zat should fix 'zat."

"Thanks," I said stiffly.

"Who's there?" came a groggy voice from upstairs. Someone bounded down the stairs then gasped. A flash of red and Ron Weasley had flung himself at Charlie. "Happy Christmas!" He then moved to Fred and George, who made fun of his now long hair and how he was acting like a five-year-old. But all three of them were grinning ear-to-ear.

I hate it when people you know well see you when you look unhealthy. They think they're being so subtle. He looked at me lying on the couch, Fleur hovering over me, and his infectious grin faded. And then he looked down. Why do they always look down?

"Hey, Ginny!" Ron said after a moment.

"Hi! Happy Christmas! Where...where..." Fleur pressed down on one of the wounds on my arm and my sentence was cut short by a gasp of pain.

"Honestly, it's kind of a blur. I wish I could tell you everything, but then the Death Eaters could use you to get information. I came back because I was worried about you. And by the looks of it, I'd say that I was right."

"Yeah, Ginny. You never did tell us what happened!" Fred (very helpfully and overly cheerfully) chimed in.

"I couldn't talk, idiot."

Bill finished conversing with Charlie, who had pulled him in the kitchen so we wouldn't hear. "Anyone fancy a cup of tea?" he offered. It was cold and rainy outside. "We've got peppermint, English breakfast, and this weird strawberry stuff that we got as a wedding gift. I can also make coffee if you fancy that."

"I'm alright, thank you," Fleur said in her thick French accent.

"I could use the caffeine," George, who was also exhausted, said. "Whatever's easiest is great."

"Me, too," Fred, Ron, and Charlie said simultaneously.

"I don't mean to be too much trouble, but could I have peppermint tea, please?" I asked.

"Of course, Ginny. I was actually going to make some for myself, since I've got a cold and all. So that's two peppermints, four anything with caffeine, and nothing for Fleur. Got it," and with that, Bill disappeared into the kitchen.

He reappeared about a minute later with six steaming mugs of tea. "Enjoy!"

Fleur helped me sit up. Choking once a day was enough.

"So, what's been going on with you lot?" Ron asked.

I exchanged glances with the twins. I could see Bill and Charlie doing the same thing. "You missed a lot," Fred said finally.

"Well, you don't have to be a genius to tell that!" Ron exclaimed angrily.

"You four look cold," Fleur interjected. Charlie, he twins, and I were all extremely underdressed. We hadn't expected to come to the coast. "I'm going to get you sweaters." She went upstairs and all of us went quiet. The only sounds were the rain falling outside and the occasional slurping sound. 

I still hadn't had any of my tea, and I was beginning to wonder if I should. Would I get sick or would it help my burning throat and churning stomach? Would it worsen or soothe my pain? 

Fred must have sensed something wrong because he sat down next to me and started rubbing my shoulder. Unfortunately, I had a rather deep gash that I had received in detention yesterday on that shoulder. I winced and hit his hand away. Fred looked at me a moment then grabbed my other shoulder and pulled me close to him so my ear was right over his mouth. "It's okay," he whispered. "Nothing can hurt you now. Bill's probably thought of every protection charm in the world to protect Ron. He's very overprotective of his little siblings that way." I smiled. Fred really could make anyone laugh. "Are you going to drink that?" 

I nodded and sat up. I took a sip of the still steaming tea. I relaxed a little bit as George came and sat down on the other side of me. 

Fleur came downstairs with four of Bill's old sweaters. She ripped the threadbare jumper off me, and I was really cold then. Of all days to wear a short sleeve shirt. I noticed a small, new bloodstain on my shoulder. So did Fred, and he turned a bright red. Fleur pulled the smallest sweater from the pile and put in on me. I resisted the urge to tell her that I was sixteen years old and could dress myself. 

When we all finished off our mugs of tea, Charlie pointed out that Mum was probably hysterical and we should probably go. We said our goodbyes to Bill, Fleur, and Ron. I grabbed Fred's arm, and we Apperated home.