Summary: Post-DH, Ginny Weasley helps her family heal. Rated T for drinking and language. Canon Pairings.

Bill Weasley was tired.

Not physically tired, although it had been a long day—and a long year, for that matter. The lack of sleep he had grown used to had very little to do with the level of exhaustion he felt at the present moment.

No, he did not need to rest. He needed to live.

Bill was hurting—they all were—but he could not see the benefit in the way his family members were managing their grief. They had sat stoically through the ceremony held in Fred's memory this morning as they laid his younger brother to rest. His father was unable to speak to the unexpectedly large crowd that had arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole, so Bill and Kingsley had agreed to say a few words. He had tried his best, and Fleur had assured him he had done a wonderful job… but nothing he had said had changed the expression on anyone's face. Bill had hoped that George would have volunteered to speak; George knew Fred better than the rest of them combined, and they all needed the kind of closure that only Fred's twin could offer.

George refused to speak this morning, and he hadn't said a word since. The Burrow was still full of friends who had graciously joined them to pay their respects, but Bill was the only one of his siblings sitting with the guests under the tent that had been erected in the Weasley's backyard. Bill knew some of his companions by name, but most he merely recognized from pictures his younger siblings had brought home during their Hogwarts years. He sat with his wife in the corner and watched the interactions between these strangers as he thought about his remaining siblings and their current whereabouts.

Charlie was upstairs with Percy, who was not doing well. Bill knew Percy blamed himself for Fred's death, but Bill could not understand why. Ron, Hermione, and Harry had been locked in Ron's bedroom for the better part of a week, only emerging when absolutely necessary. George was upstairs, in his old room, and Ginny had followed him to make sure he would be all right. Mum and Dad had gone out for a quiet meal, at Dad's insistence. Mum needed a break from company, he had told Bill, as he asked his oldest son to make sure everyone who had come by this morning felt welcome enough to stay as long as they liked.

Laughter had broken out among one of the groups under the tent in the Burrow's backyard. Bill hated to admit it, but he envied them. He knew they had all experienced loss—some just as much as his family had—but they were not boarded up in rooms in groups of two or three, trying to forget the past. Why couldn't his siblings see it? This is why they had fought, and why their brother had died: so that they could sit under a tent in the backyard and laugh without looking over their shoulders. Fleur must have felt a change in him, for she gripped the hand she was holding tighter, and whispered something in French that he only partially understood.

No, Bill thought again, he did not need to rest. He needed to live, and he was tired of feeling like he wasn't allowed to do so.

"All right, that's it!"

Bill turned his head to see the owner of the voice he had heard at the door to the Burrow's kitchen. He was so surprised by his sister's outburst that he nearly pulled his wand on her out of habit.

"Everyone in the kitchen," she ordered. "I have an idea, and I'm going to need your help."

Ginny Weasley was angry.

She was angry at George for shutting down when she was there to help. She was angry at Percy for blaming himself. She was angry at Charlie for letting Percy indulge in those stupid thoughts. She was angry at Ron, Harry, and Hermione for finally coming home yet refusing to spend time with everyone they had left behind all those months ago. She was angry at Bill for sitting downstairs with all the people who knew how to go on with their lives and leaving her upstairs with this lot.

And, above all, she was angry at Fred, who was probably sitting somewhere in the great beyond with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks having a grand ol' time and making fun of her for being the only person in this bleeding house with half a brain.

So she screamed out the back door at all of the people who had so graciously attended Fred's memorial service that morning, hoping that they wouldn't judge her for being so furious. As her oldest brother made his way into the ever-cramped kitchen, she grabbed his arm forcefully.

"I have a plan."

In a few short moments, she was able to relay her idea to Bill and Fleur. Fleur ran out for a few last minute supplies, while Bill and Ginny ran back up the Burrow's old stairs to retrieve their family members. Ginny let Bill handle Charlie, Percy, and George—she was far too angry to talk to them at the moment. Instead, she pounded both her small fists on the door of Ron's bedroom, demanding that he let her in. Hermione finally answered the door.

"Gin, is everything ok?" She ignored the question.

"You three. Kitchen. Now."

"I don't think we're quite up for company," Hermione sputtered, clearly disturbed by her friend's tone.

"Too bad. Let's go."

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and marched her down the stairs, knowing that the boys would not let her out of their sight. When they arrived in the kitchen, Fleur had returned with everything Ginny had asked for and Bill had managed to retrieve her other three brothers. Everyone was sitting around the Burrow's overlong kitchen table, looking at her expectantly.

She motioned for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to join the others at the table. They did so without arguing, probably still confused by her sudden outburst on the top floor. Ginny felt everyone's eyes on her, and took a moment to glance around the table herself.

She nodded at Bill, who sat directly across from her between his wife and George. Charlie and Percy sat on George's other side, and Dean, Luna, and Neville, and Seamus were perched on the counter behind him. Fred's Quidditch teammates—Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Oliver—sat with Lee Jordan to Ginny's far right next to a few girls from Harry's year, and a few friends of Charlie and Bill's whom Ginny didn't know were on her left. She took a big gulp of air and spoke, finally.

"I've had enough," she said quietly. "Enough of silence. Of ignoring everything. Of moping around this house. I…" she trailed off, her voice failing her as she grew hot under the gazes of all around her. "To those of you who came this morning, for my family, I want to thank you. But I need to ask you for one more favor. I… I need you to help my brothers remember what we fought for, and why we are still here."

She felt her blood boiling again as she thought about her brothers' recent behavior. With a simple flick of her wand, every one of their guests had a small tumbler in front of them. Another flick filled the glasses with the Firewhiskey that Fleur had run out to purchase for her.

"We are going to toast every single person who died in this war, and when we are all bloody drunk, we are going to have a good time."

"Ginny, I don't know if this is—" Hermione started, nervously looking around the cramped table.

"I'll start," Ginny interrupted, paying her friend no mind. She held her glass in the air and stated: "To Albus Dumbledore – for inspiring an army, even after his death."

She brought the glass up to her lips, and glared around the table until her friends and family did the same. She knew that she was acting crazy, but she hoped that madness is just what this family needed to get themselves back to normal.

"To Dumbledore," murmurs spread around the table as everyone took a sip.

Ginny took the empty seat to Harry's left and waited nervously, hoping someone would follow her lead. She tried not to let this apprehension show as she looked to Bill, her oldest brother and co-conspirator, across the table. He nodded in understanding. This had to work. It just had to. She could not stand the way things were anymore.

To Ginny's surprise, her sister-in-law was the first to raise her glass.

"To Cedric Diggory," Fleur said quietly, her delicate fingers wrapped around the clunky old tumbler she held in the air, "A champion."

"To Cedric," voices rang out, a little stronger than before. Ginny saw Harry nod at Fleur out of the corner of her eye. Bill put an arm around his wife, and Ginny was struck at how much the witch had changed since she had first met her as a Beauxbatons student.

"And Sirius Black," said Luna, "for his trip beyond the veil." Luna smiled at Harry encouragingly. She was sitting cross-legged next to the sink, but she looked like she had never been more calm and comfortable in her life. Ginny wished, not for the first time, that she could have just a sliver of Luna's tranquility.

"To Sirius," they all answered, and for the first time Ginny could clearly hear Ron and Harry speak from her right. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, relieved that this plan she had devised might actually work. She glanced over at George. He was still staring at a full glass of Firewhiskey. She caught Bill's eye and she knew he had noticed as well.

"To Dobby," Ron stated gruffly from his seat to Ginny's left. "Dobby," He stated again, "a free elf."

"To Dobby," they answered. Ginny watched as Hermione leaned into her youngest brother and placed her head on his shoulder. She couldn't quite tell, but she would have bet galleons that they were holding hands under the table.

The first four toasts had emptied most of their glasses, but a wave of Ginny's wand remedied that problem.

"Remus Lupin," Hermione stated next, "The best Defense teacher Hogwarts has ever seen." She raised her glass to the group, but didn't take her eyes of the boy sitting next to her.

"And Tonks," Charlie cut in, "Auror, wife, and mother."

"Remus and Tonks!" Ginny fought the tears that had welled up in her eyes, thinking about the young son Remus and Tonks left behind. The voices seemed louder now, and she wondered if she should attribute that to the group's growing comfort level or the Firewhiskey.

Chatter had broken out, as those around the table shared stories of the fallen that had already been mentioned. Luna and Dean were telling Neville about how Dobby had saved lives at Malfoy Manor, and Charlie was explaining to Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson how Remus Lupin and Tonks had met and fell in love.

"To Mad-Eye Moody" Bill said, suddenly, loudly enough to get the group's attention.

"To Constant Vigilance!" Seamus roared, in his best Mad-Eye impression. He had already finished two glasses of Firewhiskey, but Ginny saw no harm in refilling his glass again as the room erupted in laughter.

Bill looked better than she had seen him look all week, and Percy had even managed a smile. Charlie was introducing himself to the younger Gryffindors sitting behind him. Ron and Hermione were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, but Harry still sat stone-faced next to her. George stared at his still full-glass, and Ginny wished with everything she had that she would be able to reach him by the end of the night. It was his job to toast to his twin, and the whole room knew that. They would wait until he was ready.

Harry cleared his throat to speak, and the room fell silent. When he hesitated, Ginny placed a comforting hand on his knee under the table. He looked over at her and she nodded.

"To Severus Snape," Harry said, calmly and quietly. He glared around the table, as if daring his friends to challenge him.

Ron Weasley was overwhelmed.

He was not overwhelmed by grief, as he had been earlier this morning. He was also not overwhelmed by fear or guilt, as he had been for most of the past year. No, it was nothing like that at all. Right now, he was overwhelmingly grateful to his little sister for ordering him out of his room earlier tonight. He was overwhelmed with love for the girl sitting next to him with her head on his shoulder and her small hand grasped tightly between his larger one, even if he was not quite ready to tell her so. And most of all, he was overwhelmingly proud of his best friend for toasting to a man whom he knew was so much more than any of them had ever realized.

"To Severus Snape," Harry had said, bravely and defiantly. Ron willed the lump out of his throat as he and Hermione forcefully repeated Harry's words.

"To Snape," they both said. After Ron put his glass on the table, he used the hand not holding Hermione's to clap his best friend on the shoulder. He pretended not to notice where his little sister's hand had ended up.

"To Professor Snape," Ron heard the crowd leaning against the counter directly across from shout. Ron's head started to swim as he took in everyone around him. Dean and Seamus had obviously indulged a bit more than he had, but Ron could feel the effects of the Firewhiskey taking hold. Hermione had started tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb, and before he could stop himself he had turned his head and placed a kiss on her temple. She looked at him with wide eyes, not because he had never done that before but because he had never showed such affection for her in front of so many people.

Ron got lost in those eyes for only a moment before a voice he had barely heard in over a week stole his attention. He turned to look across the table and saw George with his glass raised for the first time.

"To Fred," George had said, his voice cracking as he spoke, "who is probably furious that you lot are all drinking without him." His eyes travelled around the crowded kitchen for the first time.

"He'd probably be more furious that we haven't had a drink in his honor till now," Percy said, breaking his silence as well.

"To Freddie," George revised his statement, "who better be taking care of my ear so I can have it back when my time comes."

George downed his entire glass in one gulp, as laughter and cheers erupted around him.

"To Fred!" Ron himself shouted, with his brothers, his sister, and his loved ones. Even Hermione downed her glass in celebration.

As soon as Ginny had filled their glasses, Lee Jordan raised his glass and shouted: "To George's ear, may it rest in peace!" and finished his glass yet again.

Ron laughed out loud for the first time in ages. He retrieved his wand from his pocket and spread the remaining Firewhiskey bottles onto the kitchen table, for he was sure Ginny was not going to be able to keep up refilling them herself.

As Neville stood to retrieve a bottle and fill the glasses of his counter-top companions, he spoke.

"How about to Harry? We can to toast to him for coming back from the dead, yeah?"

Ron felt Harry shift uncomfortably in his seat as George raised his glass high in the air

"To Harry Potter!" The rest of the table followed suit.

"To Neville Longbottom, Captain of Dumbledore's Army!" Harry answered.

"To Neville!" cried Seamus and Dean, pounding their classmate on the back so forcefully he nearly choked on his drink.

Toasts were being made quicker now, with no pause for response from the group.

"Bill and Fleur, for running a safe house."

"Percy, for coming home."

"Lee Jordan, for Potterwatch."

"To Oliver, for his pick-up Quidditch games."

"Parvati for glamour charms, to hide the scars."

"To Luna, for minding the Nargles!"

The announcements all ran together and were becoming quite ridiculous, until Hermione spoke up from beside him

"To Ron Weasley, for saving my life."

Her eyes shone with tears, and Ron's heart swelled so much he was sure the entire room could see it beating in his chest. Ron tried to ignore Seamus catcalling, his brothers rolling their eyes, and Ginny threatening to hex them all if they didn't leave him alone. Harry's boney elbow jabbed into his side.

"If you don't kiss her, mate, I'm pretty sure that drunken Irishman," He motioned toward Seamus, "is going to jump across the table and do it for you."

Emboldened by Harry's words (and three or four glasses of Firewhiskey), Ron dipped his head and placed a chaste but meaningful kiss on Hermione's lips. Ron distantly heard the crowd cheer around him, but he didn't dare stir until he felt Hermione smile. She was blushing and laughing as she buried her head in his shoulder. Ron himself laughed aloud, until he caught sight of Lavender Brown staring at them from the far corner of the room. He had forgotten she was there.

Damn, he thought to himself. How inconsiderate could he be, flaunting his new relationship in front of the girl he used last year to make Hermione jealous. He could feel his ears getting hot, and he stared down at the glass on the table in front of him. He thought he was going to retch when Lavender spoke next.

"To Hermione Granger," Lavender said, quietly, "for saving my life."

"Hermione!" The cries followed quickly, and Ron knew that somehow, everything was going to be ok.

The toasts gave way to stories as the group migrated to the Burrow's living room. Ron was now seated in his dad's chair by the fire, and Hermione perched less than gracefully on the chair's arm. Her legs were draped over his lap and he couldn't help but think that he must be the luckiest sod to ever walk the face of the Earth. The Firewhiskey continue to flow, and Ron worried if maybe they were all being a little too indulgent—until Hermione ran a hand through his hair and smiled at him. He pulled her into his lap, and as she giggled uncharacteristically, Ron just knew that Fred would approve.

Molly Weasley was full.

Physically, she was full from the first dinner date she and Arthur had managed in years. Between worries about the children, money, and the war, there had not been time for the two of them. She was also emotionally full of grief for the son that they had laid to rest that day. She was very grateful that Arthur had insisted on getting her out of the house. She was not sure she could have been strong for her children, and she didn't want them to have to take care of her anymore—especially her youngest and only girl, who had done so much for all of them in the past week.

When she and Arthur had left the house, Bill had been in the backyard overseeing the visitors who had stuck around, and the rest of her children were spread out in the upstairs bedrooms. She didn't quite know what to expect when she stepped out of the Burrow's fireplace, but it certainly wasn't the scene that played out in front of her.

The young witches and wizards who had been in the backyard were now scattered across her living room. The wireless was on, but the chatter from all corners of the room nearly overpowered it. Her children were in the room too. Fleur and Bill were swaying in time to the music, deep in conversation. Ginny was dancing quite enthusiastically with a couple of fellow Gryffindors. Ron was seated in her husband's chair near the fire, Hermione practically in his lap and Harry seated on the floor at his feet. Percy and Charlie were playing a game of Exploding Snap with some friends, and George was on the sofa with a few of his old Quidditch teammates. His eyes were red as if he had been crying, but he was smiling—and Molly's breath caught at just how beautiful that smile was.

It was then that Molly noticed the glasses and empty bottles strewn around the room. They had been drinking! A reprimand rose in her chest, but Arthur placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. At his movement, George seemed to finally notice Molly and Arthur's arrival. He stood to greet his parents, raising his glass in the air

"To Mum and Dad!" He nearly roared, and his companions echoed the toast enthusiastically.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!" voices rang out.

Her eyes scanned the room again, and he breath caught at all of the appreciative smiles and nods the young witches and wizards were sending her way. Harry stood from his seat on the floor, wrapped his arms around her, and whispered words of thanks that he did not owe her, despite his arguments to the contrary. Harry released her, and Charlie approached to offered her a glass of Firewhiskey. As she watched the young man who had become like a son to her embrace her husband, Molly accepted the glass. She could not find it in her very full heart to say no.

George Weasley was drunk.

No, more than drunk. Pissed. Sloshed, even. He was completely out of his mind, and from the looks of it, so was everyone else. He was used to seeing his friends in this state, but his family? Even Mum and Dad had glasses of Firewhiskey in their hands. Fleur was stumbling through a dance with Bill. Hermione had all but passed out in Ron's lap as he stared at her like the lovesick puppy they all always knew he'd one day become. Ginny was trying to teach Harry to dance, and George had teased him more than about keeping his hands off his little sister. Percy was attempting to persuade Charlie to help him degnome the garden, which he claimed would be "loads easier" in their current state.

Damn, Freddie, he thought as he rubbed his eyes, you are missing one hell of a party.

Just as he finished the thought, a pounding started near the hole in his head where his ear used to be. Of course, it could have been the Firewhiskey, but George couldn't help but think Fred was trying to answer him.

Georgie, you numpty, I'm here.