To say Ginny wasn’t okay with this idea would have been the biggest understatement of the century. She was so far removed from okay that she felt like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. This somehow signaled to both Draco and Padma that their plan was a brilliant one.
Obviously Ginny disagreed.
It had been Draco’s idea that they have a funeral for the unborn baby boy she had lost. It was an idea that scared Ginny. She’d never even gotten to name the child. Harry had fought her all the way as far as the names went. She also wasn’t sure she deserved the closure they were saying this would give her. She was the reason her child was gone. Her carelessness. Couldn’t they see that?
These two buffoons must be blind, Ginny thought, anger tinging the sentiment.
They were at the Burrow, far enough away that her parents need not know she was there. It was right by the stream that cut through the property’s edge, so it was incredibly peaceful, even with the rain that was starting to come down in a light mist.
“What’s even better,” Padma said when pitching the idea, “is that when you want to visit the grave, you can do it discreetly. Without worrying about Harry or those bloody reporters. This is your own private grave that no one, not even your parents, needs to know about.”
Sure, that sounded great in theory, but hearing the word grave thrown around so casually in reference to the child she’d carried for six months was a bit harsh. She kept having to remind herself that Padma was her best friend, and the woman should be lucky for that. If this had been anyone else, Ginny knew she would have hexed them into Oblivion and back.
And really, no one could have said that was wrong.
So here she was, out in the bloody rain with her two closest friends from Hogwarts- or period, really- trying to get some closure.
Which she really didn’t need, thank you very much.
“Hey,” Padma’s voice cut through her thoughts, “Gin, it’s going to be okay.”
Padma looked utterly wrecked. Ginny had never thought about what her best friend had gone through when Ginny lost the baby. One moment the two of them were celebrating, shopping together, both of them using the phrase ‘Auntie Paddy!’ then suddenly… nothing. The child Padma had been excited to meet was gone, her best friend broken, and the man who knocked her up not even man enough to try and hold Ginny through the nights.
Sometimes Ginny forgot that it had been Padma who’d held her every night when she woke up screaming. Padma was the one who opened her house to Ginny, always smiling and trying to stay sunny. It was Padma that had been the one who ran their business when Ginny couldn’t even get out of bed for the first month. Padma had done everything that Harry was supposed to have done. She’d stayed when everyone else couldn’t understand, and she’d yet to kick Ginny out of her house.
Actually, Padma was pretty adamant that Ginny stay.
Actually, Padma was fifty shades of amazing.
But not today. Today Padma was just as wrecked as Ginny, and this caused Ginny’s anger to hesitate long enough for her to have one single, selfless thought. Even if this wouldn’t bring Ginny closure, it could be all of the things Padma had mentioned… for Padma. Maybe Padma really needed to be able to grieve alone, without being crowded over.
Padma had lost her nephew, after all.
So Ginny forced a weak smile and gave the closest thing to a nod that she could manage, which was a jerk of the head. But this seemed to be enough for Padma. Thank Goddess.
Draco himself couldn’t even manage a smirk. His presence was a huge comfort to Ginny, and over the past two weeks she’d grown accustomed to seeing him at least once a day. Draco walked, for once not sauntered, over to Ginny, reaching easily for her hand and guiding her slowly to the spot they’d picked out. Padma walked alongside Ginny as well, one arm around Ginny’s shoulders.
When they passed through a small growth of bushes to come to the beautiful plaque nailed to the tree, a picture of Gaia pregnant with the Earth on it, Ginny felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to claw her heart out of her chest and fling it to the ground. Let the gods take it. Ginny didn’t want it anymore. She didn’t need it. It was as dead as her baby.
She read the plaque. Aiden Frederick Weasley. Aiden. The name she’d wanted to use. The name Harry had been so against. She’d told Padma one night that if it was all up to her, her son would be named Aiden Frederick Weasley. After Draco and Fred.
“Why after Draco?” Padma had quipped, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Well, because. He was the boy faced with all these choices, but in the end he chose family. Maybe it was screwed up, but he was a child of privilege, and he still chose family. Besides, I guess he saved me in a way after the war,” Ginny had said with a shrug.
“To family,” Padma had said, raising her apple cider.
“To family!” Ginny had echoed with a smile.
Ginny had always thought it cliche when she read that someone heard a crying or a screaming, and then they’d realize it was themselves.
But that’s exactly what was happening. It all sounded distant at first. Then she knew it was herself screaming like that, her anger and rage being literally ripped away by the gods and thrown out into the open. It had to be. She certainly wasn’t making these noises of her own free will.
She was barely aware of Draco supporting her weight, his arms wrapped around her as he guided her down to the ground, and still Ginny’s eyes remained fixed on the plaque in front of her.
She remembered lunch with her family as she’d told them all she was expecting. There’d been so much happiness in the room she’d almost managed to overlook the fact that Harry was absent.
Then she remembered shopping for clothes with Padma. The exciting new maternity wear had her reeling as they giggled about everything. There had been such a surplus of happiness.
Then when Harry proposed at their favorite restaurant. It had been easy to pass off the deep set furrows for anxiety that she might say no. It was also easy to pass off the jitters as she said yes to the fact that this was a huge deal and she was excited.
She remembered the first noticeable belly bump. She’d spent hours staring in the mirror, caressing her stomach, a small smile on her face. She’d spent even more time talking to her baby, crooning softly. Sometimes reading aloud, other times singing. She just wanted to know that when her child was born, he or she would know Ginny’s voice.
She remembered belly dancing becoming awkward. She couldn’t move her stomach easily. But she was in such high demand. A pregnant woman doing the dance for fertility with fire? And she was so happy, giving thanks with her body this way. Her baby hadn’t been expected, but he was wanted. And a boy. She just knew it, even if the healers wanted to wait before determining.
She remembered all the happiness, stretching out before her, Harry barely there. She remembered it all so vividly, her child had been such a huge part of her life from day one.
And then gone. The fire and the pain and then nothing. When she woke up, they had told her she was okay. She’d smiled, reached down to rub her belly, and it was flatter. Too flat. And then she’d screamed. They had to stun her, as Ginny had gone wild on them.
And again Harry had been absent. It was a miracle he was even there for the process of making the baby.
“I-” Ginny tried to choke out, “I want my son back.”
“Oh, Ginevra,” Draco whispered softly, his hand in her hair, cradling her against his chest.
“Why did they have to take him away? They took everything. I thought I might get this one thing! Harry… Harry was gone long before then. But there was my son, and he was going to be amazing. He was going to be beautiful. And gods, I was so stupid to think fire dancing was smart. But I was so healthy, and so was Aiden! I, I, I didn’t,” Ginny cried, unable to go on.
“It’s no one’s fault, Ginny,” Padma said in a wavering voice. “It-it happened. And I froze, I couldn’t even react at first. And then… I did. And the healers were there almost right away. But I blamed myself. If I’d been faster. I should have. I should have reacted right away. Not been frozen in place.”
And Padma was crying with Ginny, as much guilt in her voice as Ginny felt.
“I don’t blame you, Padma. Gods, how could I? It wasn’t your fault!”
“Just as it wasn’t yours,” Draco said softly.
Ginny didn’t want to feel anymore. Her chest felt like it was being crushed. She couldn’t breathe and there was so much pain, but it wasn’t even physical. How was she supposed to deal with a pain she couldn’t see? It wasn’t like a cramp. This was so deep inside her that it reverberated through every bone in her body, through every organ and muscle. There didn’t exist a part of her that the pain didn’t also exist. Deeper even than the pain was the sadness that laced it. The utter loss of something that she’d never have again.
“I’d rather be dead and have him here,” Ginny bit out through the tears.
“I know, Gin, I know. But we can’t make that happen. I wish I could. I’d trade spots for him. For you,” Padma cried.
“His own father wouldn’t even do that,” Ginny found herself saying.
“Well, we would,” Draco whispered simply.
And with that it was quiet besides the sound of two women sobbing. Had Ginny not turned her head, she wouldn’t have even known that Draco Malfoy was also crying.
The sky was dark and the rain had already drenched them by the time Ginny was done letting it all out. She felt empty now. She no longer felt numb like before. She felt the sadness, but the anger wasn’t there anymore. She felt different.
And Ginny wasn’t sure what different meant anymore.
Obviously Ginny disagreed.
It had been Draco’s idea that they have a funeral for the unborn baby boy she had lost. It was an idea that scared Ginny. She’d never even gotten to name the child. Harry had fought her all the way as far as the names went. She also wasn’t sure she deserved the closure they were saying this would give her. She was the reason her child was gone. Her carelessness. Couldn’t they see that?
These two buffoons must be blind, Ginny thought, anger tinging the sentiment.
They were at the Burrow, far enough away that her parents need not know she was there. It was right by the stream that cut through the property’s edge, so it was incredibly peaceful, even with the rain that was starting to come down in a light mist.
“What’s even better,” Padma said when pitching the idea, “is that when you want to visit the grave, you can do it discreetly. Without worrying about Harry or those bloody reporters. This is your own private grave that no one, not even your parents, needs to know about.”
Sure, that sounded great in theory, but hearing the word grave thrown around so casually in reference to the child she’d carried for six months was a bit harsh. She kept having to remind herself that Padma was her best friend, and the woman should be lucky for that. If this had been anyone else, Ginny knew she would have hexed them into Oblivion and back.
And really, no one could have said that was wrong.
So here she was, out in the bloody rain with her two closest friends from Hogwarts- or period, really- trying to get some closure.
Which she really didn’t need, thank you very much.
“Hey,” Padma’s voice cut through her thoughts, “Gin, it’s going to be okay.”
Padma looked utterly wrecked. Ginny had never thought about what her best friend had gone through when Ginny lost the baby. One moment the two of them were celebrating, shopping together, both of them using the phrase ‘Auntie Paddy!’ then suddenly… nothing. The child Padma had been excited to meet was gone, her best friend broken, and the man who knocked her up not even man enough to try and hold Ginny through the nights.
Sometimes Ginny forgot that it had been Padma who’d held her every night when she woke up screaming. Padma was the one who opened her house to Ginny, always smiling and trying to stay sunny. It was Padma that had been the one who ran their business when Ginny couldn’t even get out of bed for the first month. Padma had done everything that Harry was supposed to have done. She’d stayed when everyone else couldn’t understand, and she’d yet to kick Ginny out of her house.
Actually, Padma was pretty adamant that Ginny stay.
Actually, Padma was fifty shades of amazing.
But not today. Today Padma was just as wrecked as Ginny, and this caused Ginny’s anger to hesitate long enough for her to have one single, selfless thought. Even if this wouldn’t bring Ginny closure, it could be all of the things Padma had mentioned… for Padma. Maybe Padma really needed to be able to grieve alone, without being crowded over.
Padma had lost her nephew, after all.
So Ginny forced a weak smile and gave the closest thing to a nod that she could manage, which was a jerk of the head. But this seemed to be enough for Padma. Thank Goddess.
Draco himself couldn’t even manage a smirk. His presence was a huge comfort to Ginny, and over the past two weeks she’d grown accustomed to seeing him at least once a day. Draco walked, for once not sauntered, over to Ginny, reaching easily for her hand and guiding her slowly to the spot they’d picked out. Padma walked alongside Ginny as well, one arm around Ginny’s shoulders.
When they passed through a small growth of bushes to come to the beautiful plaque nailed to the tree, a picture of Gaia pregnant with the Earth on it, Ginny felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to claw her heart out of her chest and fling it to the ground. Let the gods take it. Ginny didn’t want it anymore. She didn’t need it. It was as dead as her baby.
She read the plaque. Aiden Frederick Weasley. Aiden. The name she’d wanted to use. The name Harry had been so against. She’d told Padma one night that if it was all up to her, her son would be named Aiden Frederick Weasley. After Draco and Fred.
“Why after Draco?” Padma had quipped, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Well, because. He was the boy faced with all these choices, but in the end he chose family. Maybe it was screwed up, but he was a child of privilege, and he still chose family. Besides, I guess he saved me in a way after the war,” Ginny had said with a shrug.
“To family,” Padma had said, raising her apple cider.
“To family!” Ginny had echoed with a smile.
Ginny had always thought it cliche when she read that someone heard a crying or a screaming, and then they’d realize it was themselves.
But that’s exactly what was happening. It all sounded distant at first. Then she knew it was herself screaming like that, her anger and rage being literally ripped away by the gods and thrown out into the open. It had to be. She certainly wasn’t making these noises of her own free will.
She was barely aware of Draco supporting her weight, his arms wrapped around her as he guided her down to the ground, and still Ginny’s eyes remained fixed on the plaque in front of her.
She remembered lunch with her family as she’d told them all she was expecting. There’d been so much happiness in the room she’d almost managed to overlook the fact that Harry was absent.
Then she remembered shopping for clothes with Padma. The exciting new maternity wear had her reeling as they giggled about everything. There had been such a surplus of happiness.
Then when Harry proposed at their favorite restaurant. It had been easy to pass off the deep set furrows for anxiety that she might say no. It was also easy to pass off the jitters as she said yes to the fact that this was a huge deal and she was excited.
She remembered the first noticeable belly bump. She’d spent hours staring in the mirror, caressing her stomach, a small smile on her face. She’d spent even more time talking to her baby, crooning softly. Sometimes reading aloud, other times singing. She just wanted to know that when her child was born, he or she would know Ginny’s voice.
She remembered belly dancing becoming awkward. She couldn’t move her stomach easily. But she was in such high demand. A pregnant woman doing the dance for fertility with fire? And she was so happy, giving thanks with her body this way. Her baby hadn’t been expected, but he was wanted. And a boy. She just knew it, even if the healers wanted to wait before determining.
She remembered all the happiness, stretching out before her, Harry barely there. She remembered it all so vividly, her child had been such a huge part of her life from day one.
And then gone. The fire and the pain and then nothing. When she woke up, they had told her she was okay. She’d smiled, reached down to rub her belly, and it was flatter. Too flat. And then she’d screamed. They had to stun her, as Ginny had gone wild on them.
And again Harry had been absent. It was a miracle he was even there for the process of making the baby.
“I-” Ginny tried to choke out, “I want my son back.”
“Oh, Ginevra,” Draco whispered softly, his hand in her hair, cradling her against his chest.
“Why did they have to take him away? They took everything. I thought I might get this one thing! Harry… Harry was gone long before then. But there was my son, and he was going to be amazing. He was going to be beautiful. And gods, I was so stupid to think fire dancing was smart. But I was so healthy, and so was Aiden! I, I, I didn’t,” Ginny cried, unable to go on.
“It’s no one’s fault, Ginny,” Padma said in a wavering voice. “It-it happened. And I froze, I couldn’t even react at first. And then… I did. And the healers were there almost right away. But I blamed myself. If I’d been faster. I should have. I should have reacted right away. Not been frozen in place.”
And Padma was crying with Ginny, as much guilt in her voice as Ginny felt.
“I don’t blame you, Padma. Gods, how could I? It wasn’t your fault!”
“Just as it wasn’t yours,” Draco said softly.
Ginny didn’t want to feel anymore. Her chest felt like it was being crushed. She couldn’t breathe and there was so much pain, but it wasn’t even physical. How was she supposed to deal with a pain she couldn’t see? It wasn’t like a cramp. This was so deep inside her that it reverberated through every bone in her body, through every organ and muscle. There didn’t exist a part of her that the pain didn’t also exist. Deeper even than the pain was the sadness that laced it. The utter loss of something that she’d never have again.
“I’d rather be dead and have him here,” Ginny bit out through the tears.
“I know, Gin, I know. But we can’t make that happen. I wish I could. I’d trade spots for him. For you,” Padma cried.
“His own father wouldn’t even do that,” Ginny found herself saying.
“Well, we would,” Draco whispered simply.
And with that it was quiet besides the sound of two women sobbing. Had Ginny not turned her head, she wouldn’t have even known that Draco Malfoy was also crying.
The sky was dark and the rain had already drenched them by the time Ginny was done letting it all out. She felt empty now. She no longer felt numb like before. She felt the sadness, but the anger wasn’t there anymore. She felt different.
And Ginny wasn’t sure what different meant anymore.
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