Perfectly in Pieces

Chapter 55: Ginny

And the day before that.

Because all they hold, all that they are filled with, are those few minutes with him.

Of brown curls.

Of green eyes.

Of holding his hand.

Of watching that bloody fucking half-smile appear.

Of wading in the water of that moment; becoming exhausted as the current tries to move her forward.

Trying to take her away.

It would drown her soon; staying there with him.

She knew it.

But she didn't care anymore.

What happened had taken up more than those moments. Some things that happen to a person have the power to do that. To take up days, weeks, months, whole lives.

They consume time, and make it stop. Never to start again.

She clasps her hands back into one another, and squeezes hard.

I'm never going to let go of you...
I don't think I am able to.

Ron elbows her in the side again, and she looks up to meet Aberforth's eyes looking frustratedly down at her. Waiting for a response. "I think he wouldn't give two shits about what was on his plaque."

The git's head shakes. Her mother's head shakes. Others try to pretend she hasn't said anything.

Oh, am I making you uncomfortable? This is what makes you uncomfortable as we sit around and talk about our dead loved ones?
Fuck all of you.

Aberforth picks up the pieces of parchment, and taps them against the top of the table to form a precise stack.

A stack of orders for plaques for the dead.

The stack is large, the names are familiar, and the ages are young.

The sound of the tap is heavy, making her flinch at the thick collection of forms being placed into a box to be owled to the supplier.

I wonder if Teddy used the same one?

"Well if you have nothing to add, then we shall move onto the last item of business before the ceremony." The older wizard ties a ribbon around the box, and whistles. A large barn owl comes swooping in and picks up the package, and flies out the open window. "The press will be allowed into St. Mungos today directly after the ceremony. And all of you are requested to make an appearance. They will be given access to only the second and fourth floors."

At this, her brother sits up straighter in his chair next to her. "The second... But the healers are only allowing immediate family to see her. They have closed off all access, how are they..."

"They will not be going to disturb Ms. Granger during her tumultuous healing Mr. Weasley. They will only be allowed to her door. The main focus will be on getting documentation of moving some of the fallen Order members from where they are being held on the fourth floor, to their respected burials."

The fourth floor...
His floor.

Ginny closes her eyes, and stops exerting her energy to keep her afloat.

Sinking deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

Everything that was her actual present begins to sound further and further away until it is nothing but muffled noises, hazy images, and figures that bob with the current.

Just a hand in hers. That is her anchor. That is what holds her steady in the water consuming her.

She needs to get her hand back in his.