Survivors - 9

"She was trying to save Draco, but Voldemort, of course, reneged on their deal. I don't know the whole story. There wasn't enough time for Harry to tell us," Ginny said.

"How did Harry get away?" her mother asked.

"It's a long story, and it doesn't really matter now. You said Mrs. Parkinson saved George?" Ginny asked, sagging back against the chair. She could feel her exhaustion catching up with her as she rested her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Anastasia ran outside with everyone else, determined to find Pansy. When she saw the Death Eater attacking the children, she turned her own wand on him – and she knew who he was, but she killed him, anyway. She said she wouldn't allow another mother to feel what she was feeling," her mother said with watery eyes. "Oh, she'll be devastated."

Ginny couldn't help the grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth as her mother referred to her of-age brothers as 'children'. Some things would never change, and she found she was glad for it.

"What about Iris? Is she okay?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know. She was told to stay inside, but she doesn't listen any better than my children do," her mother said, frowning.

Ginny snorted, unabashed.

"I can't believe it's finally over," her mum whispered.

"I know," Ginny replied. "I've been thinking the same thing all night."

"When it ended the last time – during the first war, I'd already lost my brothers by the end, and you kids were all babies. We celebrated when we heard the news like everyone else, but it wasn't quite the same sort of…anxious relief," her mother said, smiling wistfully. Her gaze roamed to Harry's heavily bruised face sleeping on the pillow next to their chair.

"Harry was just a larger-than-life storybook hero. After it was over, I never really considered the true implications for him. Now that I'm sitting here worrying about the rest of my family, I can see the other side of the story."

Ginny sniffled. "The other side?"

"That while we all celebrated and praised his victory over evil, he was a little boy who was left all alone. That's happening now. People are out cavorting in the streets, while there are many families just like ours holding their breath and waiting for news," her mother said softly, dabbing her eye with a handkerchief.

She and her mother sat together in that lumpy chair, their heads each resting on the other until they'd nearly drifted to sleep. When the door to Harry's room opened, they both turned with a start and were relieved to see her dad and Charlie stroll inside. Charlie was limping, and the clothes he wore were singed, while her dad had a bandage above his left eye and his arm was in a sling.

"Arthur!" her mother shouted, her voice cracking. She jumped from the chair and rushed into his arms.

He grabbed her and kissed her hard, causing both Ginny and Charlie to look away, grimacing. Charlie scooped up Ginny, nearly squeezing the life out of her.

"Are you all right?" she asked, noticing him wince as he put her down.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "I've just left one wound unhealed, and you managed to touch it."

"Why is it unhealed?" her mother asked, finally releasing their father and turning her owl-sharp gaze upon them.

"So he could keep the scar," her father said excitedly, pulling up his own sleeve. "Look!"

He showed them a long, thin, jagged scar running from his hand all the way up to his elbow.

"The Healers downstairs told us about Ron keeping his, and we couldn't let him nick all the glory," Charlie said, conjuring several more chairs. Ginny knew that had it been a normal situation, this many visitors would never have been allowed in the hospital room. Today was anything but normal, however.