I really have no idea how I came up with this. But, here it is anyway. This story contains the romance of Hinny, Romione, and Nuna, and also contains the characters Cho, Seamus, Lavender, Dean, and the Weasley Family. I enjoy feedback, but please no flames. If it sucks, or you absolutely hate it, tell it to me in a nice way, and what I can do to make it better. Also, remember that everything about this is fictional. It takes place in a fantasy world called Masoco. (It's kind of like Panem in The Hunger Games, only on top of Britain.) This war never ever happened, and I highly doubt that it will happen. Neither did the epidemic. (I don't think.) It's totally AU.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, would I really be writing FANfiction?
Darkness was normal in the Weasley household. Light was a luxury. Ginny didn't mind though. The darkness made her feel safe somehow. Protected. It was almost as if, in the dark, she could forget about the war that was raging on outside. And the fever that was sweeping through London, that had killed her brother Fred, didn't exist. In the dark, you couldn't see it, and that was almost enough to not believe it. But of course, seeing wasn't believing, but it was close for Ginny. Close.
The ground shook under Ginny's feet as she walked through the dreary house to her room. A bomb had just gone off somewhere, destroying another stretch of land. Ginny sat on her bed, and did what she did increasingly often. She thought about somewhere. The place that was supposed to exist, but was impossible to reach. It was the place "where the flowers bloom." It wasn't Masoco or Wittleworth. It was somewhere. She was told that story a million times when she was younger, because it gave the only comfort in a world where there was none. She remembered that she used to dream about it, every night. She lived there with her family, and they were happy. Oh, and of course Harry, the cute boy down the street was there. And the flowers did bloom. Yes, they did.
Ginny had never understood why they said the place "where the flowers bloom." Why did it matter so much that flowers could bloom there? Of course, there were no flowers here. The ground was to destroyed for there to be. It had been years since Ginny had seen one. But, why was that the title that so many people had given it?
Ginny could spend forever thinking about it, but she doubted she'd figure it out.
Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door.
"Who is it?" She asked.
"It's Ron," came a voice. "Dinner's ready."
Ginny sighed and stood. Potatoes, she supposed. Potatoes were basically the only food there was. Why that was, who knew. Potatoes were just adaptable. They could somehow even adapt to the soil that was…almost nonexistent. The potatoes were never top quality, but they were as good as they got.
Ginny reached they kitchen and noticed, not for the first time, how pathetic the table looked with only four people sitting in it. The table was bid enough to fit nine people, and when she was younger, it had. There was a time when her parents, her brothers, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and herself all sat at the table. But those days were over. Now, Bill and Charlie were in the war, fighting, having been drafted. Percy had volunteered to help with the war efforts of drafting and planning, because somewhere along the line, he had decided that the war was good. Fred was dead; he died of the fever epidemic that had almost killed Ginny herself. And finally, Ginny's father was working. He was always working, doing his best to get the war stopped, but it seemed the war would never end.
Ginny thought back to when the war started as she sat and the potatoes were past out. The war had started when she was three. Wittleworth had started the war in hopes to gain dominance over Masoco. And the fight had been going ever since.
The door opened then, knocking Ginny out of her thoughts. She turned to see her father in the threshold looking highly disgruntled.
"Molly," he said, "Look."
He handed Ginny's mother a piece of paper. Molly took one look and burst into tears, dropping the paper.
"No!" she cried. "They can't do this! Not again."
"What're they doing?" Ron asked, but neither parent answered. Ginny crouched down and grabbed the piece of paper.
"Oh my god," she said. "You've been drafted George."
By the look on his face, he already knew.
"Not again," Molly said. "We've already had two sons shipped off to war, and a third off helping the leaders. Not a fourth, not a fourth!"
"Molly, what can we do?" Ginny's father Arthur asked. "He'll get far worse if he doesn't show up. He has to go."
"No!" Molly cried again, and then sat down with a defeated look on her face.
"We have to," Arthur repeated, and then turned to George, who was staring at the ground. "You leave…tomorrow." George nodded.
"May I be excused then," he asked.
"Of course," Arthur answered, and George left. "Well, the rest of us better eat."