She was sitting on her bed, her journal in front of her, quill poised over the parchment. They had disappeared two weeks ago. She was due to go back to school in a week.
She missed them a lot. It was more than a 'school holidays' type of miss. It was a 'I may never see them again' type of miss. She missed them desperately. She wished that when she went down to the sitting room, she would see them huddled in a corner, throwing glances over their shoulders to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. She wished she could go into the kitchen for breakfast and see them enjoying their toast together.
She missed her 'sister'. She was the only one she had to talk about girl stuff with. She wouldn't laugh over her feelings about him nor would she make some absurd comment or tell her to move on. She would support her. She missed how they could laugh over the stupidest things and then sober quickly when her mother approached. She loved her. She missed her.
I miss you Hermione Granger she wrote in her journal.
She missed her brother. Sure he could be the world's biggest prat, but he could also be great company. Sure he was very protective and could be a great hypocrite about her relationships, but she still loved him. They were family. They were allowed to hate one another at times; it didn't mean they didn't love each other because she did love him. She missed him.
I miss you Ron Weasley she wrote in her journal.
She missed him. Merlin, she missed him so much. It felt like her heart was about to break in two. She knew it would hurt when he left, she just didn't think it would hurt this much. Sometimes she felt like running away from home to try and find them but knew it was pointless. No one knew where they were.
She was scared. Scared that he would die and leave her alone. She was scared, even though he had said there was no chance, that he would find someone else. She was scared he would forget about her. It hurt so much she wanted to scream.
But she couldn't. She wouldn't. She had to be strong. For the both of them. She felt like crying. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Was that a bad thing? She wished she knew what it meant. She had shed a few tears, but if any of her family saw her crying, they would definitely get suspicious. She didn't need them in her private life right now.
Her mum had asked her to fetch any dirty clothes in her brother's room the day before. She had had to sprint in and out so she wouldn't break down then and there. The room was still a mess, like usual. His stuff was still thrown about the room. There was a shirt on his bed, a book on the floor. Grabbing his shirt and her brother's few clothes left behind, she sprinted to her room. Stuffing the shirt under her bed she composed herself before descending the rest of the stairs.
Reaching under her bed, she lifted a loose floor board and pulled out a box. She didn't know that he had a hiding spot like that at his relative's.
The box was full of stuff from their time together. Or anything that reminded her of him. She had put his shirt which he had used for pyjamas in the box. It still smelled of him.
There was grass which he had thrown at her one day by the lake. She had found it in her hair later that day.
There was a piece of parchment with his stick men scribbles on it. She had laughed for ages it felt when he had given it to her; a big grin on his face.
There was another piece of parchment. This one contained both of their handwriting. After being scolded by their friend for talking while she was trying to study, he had taken the parchment and continued their conversation on it. They had continued like that for an hour.
There was his quill which he had leant her when hers had broken. The broken quill had caused her to say a few choice words which had amused him greatly.
There was a chocolate frog card he had given her. It was of Dumbledore.
Tears finally made their way down her face with the last item. It was a photo. A simple photo. She had found it one her pillow one day at school. It showed her and him sitting against a tree in the courtyard. Neither of them had noticed the person who had taken the photo. To this day, she still had no idea who had taken it. In the photo, he would nudge her shoulder with his and say something causing her to laugh. She would then punch his arm playfully making him pretend to wince in pain. He would then lean over and give her a quick kiss on the lips, pulling back to take her hand.
She knew that if anyone entered her room at the moment they would think her insane, seeing her crying quietly over a small box, a photo in her hands.
At that moment, she didn't care anymore. She didn't care if anyone found her crying. She didn't care if anyone found out they had been dating. She didn't give a damn about life any more. She had never felt this horrible, first year included. She felt like giving up.
Slowly and methodically she began to carefully replace each item into the box. Not bothering to wipe her eyes, she gave each item a kiss before it was set gently into its home. The box would always be the home of those items. No one would ever see them; no one would ever know the story, the secrets or inside jokes behind each item. No, it would just be the two of them who knew.
It was their secret to share with one another.
Placing the lid back onto the box, she got down onto the floor and lifted the loose floor board once again. Box safely hidden, she leaned against her bed side table, still on the floor and reached for her journal and quill on her bed.
I miss you Harry Potter was written in her neatest penmanship.
'Be safe Harry,' Ginny whispered to herself placing the journal on top of the box. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she made her way down the stairs to help her mum with dinner.
Authors Note - I wrote this when I was feeling particularly depressed. I was surprised at how fast I managed to write it and how easily the words and emotions poured onto the screen. The feelings and emotions are based on how I was feeling at the time. Im actually very pleased with the results. Its my first one shot as well. I hope everyone enjoys this change of writing.
-PadfootProngs7