The night Ginny fled the Burrow, her mum was sobbing at the kitchen table. She'd paused at the door, looking in, but something in her kept her from going in there, from comforting the woman who birthed her and six boys, one of which had gone into the ground that morning. The thought of Fred sent a shiver down her spine, and she nearly froze on the spot, wondering if her brother was somehow watching her, somehow knew she was about to break their family even further. But a cough sounded from the landing, and she heard footsteps on the stairs, and so adjusting the bag she'd stolen from Hermione - the little beaded bag that now held all of her belongings - she slipped out the front door and to the apparation point, and soon she was gone.

FIVE YEARS LATER

Ginny Weasley was exhausted by the time she arrived in the hospital lobby, drenched from the downpour happening outside, drained from the long journey back to England, and thoroughly dreading the meeting to come. Her condition earned her a nasty look from the woman behind the information desk, and she hastily charmed herself dry before walking up to the woman. "I'm here to see Arthur Weasley?"

Even her voice was raspy; she'd barely used it in the last week since she'd received the owl from George, telling her their father was ill. You'd better hurry home, he'd written, and she'd immediately started making plans. But travel from the United States back to England was a hassle, even with magic, and it had taken her this long to be cleared.

She impatiently tapped her nails on the desk as the woman flipped through a book on her desk for a long minute, before finally looking up and directing Ginny to the right floor and ward. She hurried away, not even bothering to thank her, waiting until she was in the lift before sagging against the wall.

She'd barely relaxed when the lift stopped and someone got on, and she'd had to take a double look at the man standing in front of her. But apparently Draco Malfoy, in his healer's uniform, didn't recognize her, with her dark hair, and she wasn't about to say anything as the lift moved slowly to her floor. She nodded to Malfoy as she got off, but he followed, right up to the room her father was in.

"Can I help you?" he said finally, getting in front of the door before Ginny could open it. "This room is family only, Miss..?"

"Weasley," Ginny said tightly, and Malfoy's mouth actually dropped open as he looked her over carefully. "Can you please let me pass now that you've had your look?" Her voice was cold, and she prided herself on keeping it steady. The last time she'd seen Malfoy he'd been rescuing her, but she wouldn't think of that now. Couldn't think of that now, as Malfoy moved aside and she got a glimpse of her mother, sitting beside the hospital bed.

"They'll want to see you," Malfoy murmured, as she hesitated, and she looked back at him, startled to see sympathy and - was that kindness? - in his eyes. They kept their eyes locked for a moment, as Ginny's mind went back to that last day she'd seen those grey eyes, the day that she'd promised herself she'd forget. Malfoy was the first to look away, gesturing to the door. "Go in." Then he turned on his heel and left. Ginny hesitated again, but reminded herself that this was what she'd come home for. She'd been a Gryffindor, damn it. Surely the war hadn't taken all of her bravery? Before she could freeze again, she knocked on the door, waiting for her mum's voice to bid her to enter.

When she did, three of her brothers, who had been talking over by the window, immediately went silent, taking in the sight of her. "You actually came," George said finally, breaking the silence. "I -"

"You didn't think I would?" The look on his face told her the answer, and she tore her eyes from his face, knowing that she couldn't even blame him.

"Ginny?" Her mother's voice was choked, and even as Ginny turned to face her, she'd ended up in her mother's arms. Five years of not being touched caused her to stiffen, but Molly didn't notice, her joy in having her daughter back overrode any reservations she might have had.

"Hi mum," Ginny said finally, pulling away before the tight feeling in her chest could overwhelm her. Tears welled up in the older woman's eyes, and Ginny herself had to refrain from crying as she slowly turned to the bed. The man lying there was not the man he'd been when she'd left. His red hair was now completely white, and he looked as if Ginny could pick him up and carry him. "Hi dad."

"Ginny." His voice came out in a wheeze, and ended in a coughing fit. Without flinching, her mum was back by his side, offering him a glass of water. A glance at her brothers told Ginny this was a common occurrence, and she resisted the urge to flee, to get away from something that was hard to deal with, as she'd done for years.

"Boys, why don't you go with your sister down to the food hall?" Molly said after a moment, turning in their direction. George immediately nodded and was out the door, but Ron hesitated, shooting his sister a glare, before following George. Percy was the last out the door, just behind Ginny herself.

They made it to the food hall before anyone spoke, and, surprisingly, it was Ron who had the first words. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there," Ginny said simply, sliding into a chair across from them. She brushed her hair back, pulling it into a ponytail with the tie on her wrist. Percy followed her movements, scowling at her darkened hair. "I dyed it a few years ago," she explained, responding to the unasked question.

"Why'd you do it?" George asked her, his voice softer then Ron's had been.

"Dye my hair?" She caught George's eye. "Or leave?" George shook his head slightly, clearly frustrated. Ginny looked down at the table, picking at the edge of the cloth. "I had my reasons," she said at last, earning yet another scowl, from Ron this time. "The war-"

"Affected us all," Ron interrupted. "We all lost Fred, and you were the only one that left. Nobody's heard from you in five years, so why now?"

"George sent me an owl," Ginny said, swallowing, her throat dry. Her brain was telling her to flee, to get away from the fight that was clearly coming. Her hands were clasped together under the table so hard they'd started to hurt, but she didn't show any of this on her face. Couldn't, because that was a weakness they'd use against her. "He told me about dad, and-"

"Oh, so now you care." Percy's voice was harsh, and she had to fight herself to keep from reminding him he'd left once, too, and the family had welcomed him back. He'd been gone when their father had been attacked - and he hadn't returned to make sure he was okay.

She said none of this, focusing her eyes on the table, away from the hatred on their faces. "I've always cared," she murmured at last, still looking at the table.

"Really?" George's voice sounded just as harsh, and she finally looked up at her favorite brother. "Mum owled you constantly when dad first got sick, and you never responded to any of those."

"I-" Ginny froze. What owls? "I never got them," she said, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around her midsection, resisting that urge telling her to flee that was growing stronger with every word that passed between the four youngest Weasleys.

Ron snorted. "Yeah right," he snapped at her. "We all sent you owls after you left. You devastated our family, do you know that? Mum cried for months! Dad hardly left his shed-"

"You can't blame all that on her," George interrupted Ron, nudging his arm. "Part of that was - from Fred."

"Yeah, well, she didn't help!" Ron exploded, standing up from his seat, the chair falling back onto the ground. Ginny flinched back as he stomped past her, leaving the food hall completely.

While George and Percy followed Ron out the door, Ginny continued to sit in the chair, staring unblinkingly at the door. Her breath felt caught in her chest, and without looking around, she knew she'd caught the eye of several people that had been eating.

When Neville Longbottom walked over and sat across from her, in the seat Ron had vacated, all she could do was look up at him. "Hey Gin," he said softly, reaching across the table and touching her hand gently. She yanked it back, tears welling up in her eyes. "Do you want to go somewhere quiet?" She nodded quickly, and followed Neville out.

They ended up in a small room on the first floor, a room meant for families. Ginny sat huddled on one of the couches, rocking back and forth as tears silently fell from her eyes.

The night she'd left, she knew if she ever came back a scene like this would happen, but there had been a small part of her that hoped her family would understand. It was too hard for her to be back in the world she grew up in, with people who'd always expected her to act in a way she couldn't bring herself to. Her mum expected her baby girl, her brothers - she didn't know what they expected, but it definitely wasn't the girl who'd come back.

Neville, thankfully, kept silent. He, of all people, understood what Hogwarts had been like that year, what she had been like and the things she'd gone through with the Carrows, things she'd never said aloud but were in her head all the time. When the tears had finally stopped falling, he handed her a tissue.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, looking up at him and trying to force a smile. "I - it's been a long week."

"I heard about your dad," Neville said, in explanation. "Although to be honest, I didn't expect to see you. Ron was saying the other day-" he stopped.

"Ron was saying what?"

Neville grimaced. "He was saying that he wouldn't even expect to see you at the funeral."

A small sigh escaped Ginny's lips. "I can't blame him," she said softly. "It's been awhile since I've - I've been back home, so-" She stopped, letting out another small sigh. "I guess part of me didn't want to come back anyway."

"Everyone has missed you," Neville told her calmly. "If you don't mind me saying so - Ron especially. He hasn't been the same since you disappeared."

"Disappeared, huh?" Ginny scoffed, leaning her head back and resting it against the wall. She closed her eyes for a minute, shaking her head. "The Carrows-"

"Are dead."

Ginny's eyes shot open and she stared at him. "What?" she whispered. "When did that happen?"

"About - oh, I think six months after the war ended," Neville explained. "Kingsley Shacklebolt was part of the team that took them down. They went to Azkaban and died after getting the dementor's kiss."

"What did they confess?"

Neville leaned forward, looking her right in the eye. "Everything. Not all of it is public knowledge, but most of what they did at Hogwarts is. The torture, the murder-"

"The rape."

The new voice caused both ex-Gryffindors to look toward the door, where Malfoy stood in his healer's uniform, arms crossed over his chest. "I was in the courtroom waiting my own trial at the time. They didn't name any names, but they confessed to the torture and rape of eight female underage students."

A chill shot through Ginny at Malfoy's words, and she felt again like she couldn't quite breathe. A potion vial was forced into her hands as her vision started going black, and she forced the foul tasting liquid down her throat.

"Ginny?" Neville's concerned voice broke through the ringing in her ears, and she finally was able to look up at the two men standing in front of her. They both looked worried, and somehow, she forced herself to take several deep breaths as the dizziness faded.

"I'm fine," she managed, after several long minutes that felt like an hour. "It was just - it was a shock."

"I understand," Malfoy said, sitting in one of the chairs. There was a pause. "In a few months we're hiring a new group of mind healers, who have specialized in something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Granger was actually the head in getting it recognized in the wizarding world over the last year. They're here to help the people who underwent horrible things during the wars. There's an early sign up list, but I think I can get you on if that's what you want."

"I'm not sure if I'll still be here," Ginny said, quickly standing up. "I have to get back to my dad. Thank you both." And she took off, taking the stairs rather than the lift. She made it back to her dad's room in record time, and was just about to go in when Ron came out.

"I think you should just go," he said bluntly, narrowing his eyes at her. "Dad doesn't need your stress and drama."

"Excuse me?" Ginny whispered, staring incredulously at her brother, the one who'd once known her better than anyone. "You can't just make me leave."

"You're right, I can't." Ron shook his head. "But it would be better if you did. Actually, it would have been better if you'd not come home at all. We'd all moved on without you, you know."

"Ronald!" Hermione Granger had come around the corner, and she'd heard him. Ron paled, and, for the first time, Ginny noted the silver wedding band on his finger. So they'd gotten married. "Your sister is here to see your dad, you can't just run her off! How could you?" Ron spluttered, but was speechless as Hermione turned back to Ginny and smiled at her warmly. "It's good to see you."

"Thanks," Ginny said quietly, as Hermione looped her arm through Ron's.

"We're going to go and get dinner. Let your mum know?" Ginny nodded mutely as Hermione led a still sputtering Ron away, and Ginny turned back to the door, inhaling quickly before opening it.

The remainder of the evening was calm, as Ginny sat and listened to her family talk, occasionally responding when something was shot her way, but for the most part, she was silent. She kept her focus on her dad, who really didn't look the same. She was just debating going back to the Leaky Cauldron and getting a room there when she noticed her brothers and mum biding her dad goodbye.

They all left the room, leaving her alone with her dad for the first time. She went over to the bed and took the seat her mum had been sitting in all day, and took his hand in hers. "I'm going to stay for you," she whispered to him, earning a weak smile.

"Help your mum," he murmured to her. "She's going to need you." Ginny quickly agreed, and he smiled at her again. "I always wanted you," he said, and Ginny looked at him curiously. "A daughter. The boys were amazing, but your mum and I - we always wanted a little girl. You were our miracle. I love you."

"I love you too." She squeezed his hand. "I should get going too," she said, sighing. "I'm sure visiting hours are over."

"They are," her dad confirmed, and she released his hand. "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

"Of course," Ginny said, through the lump in her throat. "Bright and early." They said goodnight, and she slipped out the door.

She had hoped the others would have left, and indeed the boys and Hermione had, but her mum stood waiting outside the door. "Where are you staying?" she questioned her daughter.

"I was going to see if the Leaky Cauldron had a spare room," Ginny said, chewing on her bottom lip. "I - I don't have much. I left everything in my apartment besides some clothes and my money."

"You aren't going to waste any of your money staying at the Leaky," Molly stated. "Your room at home is just as you left it. You can stay there, obviously."

"Thanks mum."

"And," Molly said in a firm voice. "We can discuss everything during breakfast." Ginny nodded as she followed her mother to the lift.

It was strange, being back at the Burrow. Not much had changed, except that the home was quieter, with all the Weasley boys moved out. It was just Ginny and Molly that night, and as Ginny lay awake in her bed as the clock struck three, she realized she'd missed it.

There was a comfort in being home, in being around things that were familiar to her. Her apartment had been bare, with only the things she absolutely needed, and she had no pictures around of her friends and family, as she had lived in a muggle neighborhood and the only pictures she had, courtesy of Colin Creevey, were the moving kind. Not that it would have mattered much; the only people who'd stepped foot in the apartment in the two years she'd lived there had been a maintenance man, and he hadn't even gone past the kitchen.

Ginny heaved a sigh, turning over again. She hoped tomorrow would be better. She wasn't used to explaining herself anymore to people who actually cared about the answers, and that made being home hard.

Tomorrow just had to be better. She had already promised she'd stay, and she had to keep that promise.

No matter what.