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A fire was roaring in a fireplace, heating the small room up around one in the morning. Ginny was sitting on her couch, holding a piece of parchment. A small sigh escaped her lips as she set the parchment down and walked to the kitchen to get herself a bottle of Firewhiskey. She put the tip of it to her lips and let the burning liquid slide down her throat. Letting out a satisfied sigh, she walked back to the couch and stared into the flames.
Memories started to come back to her as half the bottle of Firewhiskey was already gone. This was what her nights were deduced to, being a drunk and living in her past. She knew that she could change it, but she refused to. She just simply refused to forget Harry, and it was at these moments that she remembered him best.
The Firewhiskey gave her the escape she wanted from reality. From everything that the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly were saying, it was a nice escape. Ever since Harry died there had been witches and wizards coming towards her with quills, parchment, and cameras. That was the hardest time, especially at the funeral and such. Now though, it was her own fault. Of course she was known as “The-Chosen-One’s girlfriend,” then, but now since she played on a well-known Quidditch team, the reporters were bound to be on her tail. Her mother and father didn’t appreciate it much, always trying to get not only into Ginny’s business, but also theirs.
“Not this year though,” she whispered, taking a swig from the bottle, “this year I will be at Hogwarts, and things will settle down.”
Ginny started to laugh uncontrollably for an unknown reason. She stood up taking the last drops from the bottle and Apparated from her house to a small one with a white fence outlining it. Opening the small gateway, she let it slam as she made her way to the door. Without knocking she let herself in and started walking around bumping into things and creating loud noises. A couple of loud curses escaped her mouth. Then, without realizing, a small light by the stairs came on causing Ginny to place her foot in a bucket and falling over.
“Who’s there?” Questioned a voice as their wand was lit, looking for the perpetrator. A small squeak escaped Ginny and footsteps got closer to her, their wand light now shining on her face.
“Could y-you get that t-thing a-away from be – me?” she questioned with her hand over her eyes.
“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing here?” Ron questioned as he pulled on her arm helping her up.
“Came to talk to Herm-own…Hermy…Hermione,” she answered, shaking her foot to get out of the bucket.
Ron bent down and slipped the bucket off her foot, “Have you been drinking?”
“What teeped you off?”
Ron’s face became uncertain as he looked at Ginny. Never before had he seen her like this, it was quite scary especially when he believed that she was the strongest one in the family. Ginny turned away from him and started heading towards the stairs, straggling along the steps calling out Hermione’s name. Ron ran up behind her and grabbed her around the waist telling her to stop.
“Get off me!” Ginny screamed.
“Ginny it’s two in the bloody morning! You’re a wreck and Hermione’s sleeping. I’m not letting you see her, especially with how you are!”
“I don’t care, I want to talk to Harry!”
Ron stopped and looked at her incredulously. Knowing that she had brought up Harry’s name willingly and not having a fit, he knew that she wasn’t in her right mind.
“What are you talking about?” He asked softly.
“I want to talk to Harry! Are you deaf or umpthing?”
“Ginny, you need to lie down.”
“I don’t need to do nothing! I just need to talk to Harry!”
She started to head up the stairs again when Ron stepped in front of her and grabbed her arms. “Ginny, listen to me. Harry’s dead, he’s not coming back.”
Taking a step back from him, she looked at him with her usual bright brown eyes dulling. “W-w-what did you say?”
“Harry’s dead, he’s not here…,” Ron whispered, a lump catching in his throat as he told her, the memories of his best friend flashing in his mind.
“Y-you’re lying…. LIAR!” Ginny exclaimed as she tried to head back up the stairs. “You’re just mad! You don’t want to see me happy! You never did!”
Ron looked taken aback, “Ginny, stop it right now!”
“Stop lying to me Ron! Stop! Stop! STOP!” She screamed, pounding on Ron’s chest.
“What’s going on…?” Hermione asked when she spotted Ginny hitting Ron on the chest.
Ginny looked up rapidly at Hermione’s voice. Her fists stopped colliding with Ron’s chest and she started up the stairs as best she could. When she got to the top step, where Hermione was standing, Ginny looked at her. “Hermy-own-ninny…where’s Harry?”
Hermione looked down at Ron, her soft brown eyes filled with shock and worry. She looked away from Ron and to Ginny, “He died Ginny…It’s been four years….”
“Why are you guys lying to me?! Why are you two against me?!” Ginny screamed at them as she went down the stairs, misplacing her footing every now and then.
“Ginny, I wouldn’t lie to you!” Hermione exclaimed, her eyes starting to water.
Before Ron or Hermione could do anything Ginny Apparated. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, “Ron we have to go after her!”
“She could be anywhere Hermione,” Ron answered apprehensively.
“We both know where she probably is,” Hermione answered.
They both Apparated and ended up at the Burrow. The door was left ajar and they could hear rustling in the house. Hurrying forward, they found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley halfway down the stairs looking at Ginny.
“Ginny! What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Weasley questioned hurriedly.
“Where’s Harry? I would like a word with him; he’s keeping from me for too long!”
“Are you drunk?” Mr. Weasley questioned, straightening his horn rimmed glasses.
“Of course not! Now where’s Harry?”
“He’s gone Ginny…,” Mrs. Weasley said, her voice cracking.
“What do you mean gone? He wasn’t due for training for another two months. Mum, what’s going on?”
Mrs. Weasley walked down the rest of the stairs and pulled her daughter in for a hug, a tear rolling down her cheek, “I’m sorry, darling, but he’s gone. He’s dead, honey.”
Ginny didn’t move. It was as if she had to relive through it all over again. All of a sudden everything seemed to become heavy and blurry for Ginny. She passed out in her mothers’ arms, the darkness helping her escape the moment she was living.
Hours later the sun shone through the window, causing her to turn over with a grunt. She grabbed her covers and pulled them up to her chin, believing that she had beat the sudden brightness and would be able to go back to bed. Another grunt came from her when she heard the talking that was going on downstairs. Turning over in her bed she looked up at the ceiling as if it was the one that woke her up.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Ginny grabbed her head. The room was suddenly spinning and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she realized that she had a pounding headache. As she stood up, she cursed herself mentally for not having her potion on her. Walking to the door, she just realized that she was in her old room at the Burrow.
She opened the door and heard the talking downstairs. Before she took a step, she realized that there were more voices than just her mother’s and father’s. It sounded as if her whole family was there, and then she heard her name. Walking out of her room and down a staircase quietly, she started listening.
“I’m terribly worried,” Mrs. Weasley said.
“As we all are Mum. It was bad enough after he died with the Prophet, but now since she’s on the Holyhead Harpies that doesn’t help any.”
“With a year at Hogwarts, it should stop everything though.”
“Not necessarily,” Mr. Weasley responded.
“She’s just heading for the wrong road. Losing Harry crushed her.”
That terrible feeling in her chest and stomach came again at hearing Harry’s name. She sat down at the old, wooden step clenching her stomach, trying not to make a noise.
“I thought we would have to take her to St. Mungos. She just wasn’t in her right mind, living in another time almost,” Mrs. Weasley said.
“It couldn’t have been that bad Mum. Ginny’s not crazed,” Fred responded.
“You didn’t see her last night. She was a downright mess….”
“She shows in our house, knocking things over and all that. Calling, wanting to talk to Hermione first and then changed to wanting to talk to Harry. She went ballistic when I told her he was dead. Hermione even told her, and then she Apparated over here before either of us could blink.”
Ginny tried to remember what happened from what she was hearing, but nothing came to her. The pain in her chest and stomach were still there and a lump was caught in her throat, but she made her way slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. When she walked in, all eyed darted to her.
“Good morning to you too,” she said grumpily as she took a seat, running her hand through her hair. There was a mumble of good mornings and she closed her eyes. Feeling their stares still on her she said, “Well, if you all would stop staring, I would be rather fond of it, thanks.”
“What can I get you for breakfast, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked cheerfully.
“I can’t eat anything Mum,” she replied as she rubbed her eyes.
“Just a little breakfast?”
“No Mum, I’m fine,” Ginny answered irritably.
She placed her hands over her eyes creating the different colored circles to appear. Something was placed on the table before her and she groaned, “Mum, I just said I didn’t wa -,” she stopped midsentence. She saw a small vile in front of her, “What’s this?”
“It’s for your hangover,” Bill answered.
“I don’t have a hangover.”
“First signs of being a drunk: Denial,” Fred and George said.
“Fred! George!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.
Ginny’s features became set like stone. She looked very much like Fred and George, but her mouth was set like her mothers. “I’m not a drunk,” she whispered softly.
“You know, we’re your family. You can tell us anything,” Charlie said quietly.
“And I’m telling you, I’m not a drunk. So what if I like to enjoy a couple glasses of Firewhiskey every other day. I never knew that it was a crime!”
“Whole bottles in an hours’ time is a different story though,” Bill said.
“I don’t drink a whole bottle of Firewhiskey. I’m not insane!” She exclaimed.
“Ginny, don’t lie to us,” Hermione pleaded, her eyes watering again.
“I’m not lying to you!”
“Then why is your garbage just filled with these bottles?” Mr. Weasley asked as three bottles of Firewhiskey were put on top of the table.
She looked at them horrified. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. “You’re searching through my house now?! That’s my home, that’s my private stuff!”
She stood up from her seat and started heading towards the door. Fred blocked her from getting to the door. “Fred don’t be stupid, let me out.”
“Not until you stop being selfish,” he responded, the room going dead silent. “You’re drinking your life away of something that happened four years ago! Don’t you dare try to deny it. We know you have; we just didn’t know how serious it was until last night.
“You’re just being selfish. Drinking isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to stop the pain; it’s not going to bring Harry back. And for you to drink it makes me realize how much of a selfish brat you truly are!
“I never thought that I’d have to say that to you, of all people. Never in my dreams. We know you miss Harry, we all do. We miss him terribly, but you don’t see us drinking ourselves under a bridge!”
“Shut up Fred! It’s not the same!” Ginny exclaimed, close to tears as her chest and stomach clenched
“Of course it’s the same Ginny! He was our family just as much yours. You can’t honestly believe that we didn’t love him, that our thoughts haven’t drifted to him almost every day? Take a look around you Ginny! Look what he’s left behind. He’s left his two best friends in the whole world behind. He didn’t get to see them get married! He doesn’t get to see them happy. While he sacrificed EVERYTHING, you sit here and wallow! You sit here as if you’re the only one in pain!”
Everyone was quiet besides Hermione’s sobs. Ginny looked at Fred, tears silently starting to fall from her eyes.
“I have nothing to say to you…or any of you,” she responded as she turned around and looked at them lividly.
“We only want to help Ginny…,” Hermione responded, her voice cracking.
“There’s nothing to help with! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I’m not a child!”
Someone was about to respond but Ginny took the moment to Apparate to her house. She looked around the living room. There was parchment on the coffee table, coffee cups, and pictures all around. Before she could get lost at looking at the pictures and going back to those memories, she turned about putting Apparating charms around the house so no one could Apparate in.
She let out a sigh of relief and walked to her bedroom where a trunk was lying on the bed. Taking out her wand, she waved it around and had all her clothes pack themselves neatly into the case. She pointed her wand to the bathroom summoned her brush, toothbrush, and other personal items to lay flat in another bag.
An accomplished sigh left her lips and she laid down on the queen sized bed. After a minute of silence she jumped up, pulling out another bag. She waved her wand once more and summoned all the pictures to the room and had them lay on the bed.
Picking up one, a slight smile came onto her face. It was of her and Harry by the beech tree on the grounds of Hogwarts. Colin Creevy had taken it, for an odd reason.
Her eyes watered as put the picture into the bag. Without looking at any of the others she just placed them in her bag as someone started to pound at the front door. Sighing, she levitated her bags and trunk, and started heading towards the front door as the pounding got harder and louder.
“What the bloody hell are you trying to do breakdown my door?” She questioned as she set her things down.
“If you expect us to let you leave like you did, and not allow us in, yes.”
“Well I’m not going to let all of you attack me like you did,” she responded as her eyes rolled.
“If you talked to us we wouldn’t have to!” Fred exclaimed behind the door. “Will you let me in?”
“No, I will not. I’m already late as it is. I’ll see you and everyone else that I’ll see them next term. Let them know for me eh?” She questioned as she lifted the charm that she had earlier placed on her house.
The pounding noise left her as she felt like she was being squeezed through a small tube and ended up at Hogsmeade. As she caught her breath she could smell the warmness of the air and the fragrance that the flowers and different smells of chocolate and drinks coming from windows and opening doors.