The air outside was warm. Spring was coming, and Ginny had still heard nothing of Harry's whereabouts. Not that she had expected to but...that didn't mean she didn't miss him. He could be anywhere, doing anything at the moment. She imagined him, Ron and Hermione running around, fighting Death Eaters, running across the country, battling unknown things...
They were doing that at the same time Ginny was staying home, doing chores with her mother, watching her father come home from work every day, stressed and exhausted, and waiting. Waiting restlessly for something to happen, because she knew something would, waiting for someone she loved to die, waiting for a large battle, waiting for Harry to return...
That's it. She thought. I'm tired of being the damzel in distress, waiting for him to come back. I'm tired of everyone underestimating me, thinking that I'm too young to fight, I'm tired of just waiting around! DOSEN'T ANYONE UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH RIGHT NOW?
She sighed, emotions whirling around inside her. She was done. Done with this war, ready for it all to end.Out on the porch of the Burrow, everything was peaceful. The sun was going down behind the hills in rosy shades of orange, pink, and gold. Birds twittered in the canopy of trees. Bright flowers grew in the emerald green grass. Things were so calm and pretty, so unlike life at the moment. She figured she needed something to calm herself down. She stood up and walked inside. The kitchen was quiet, her father at work and her mother upstairs, listening to the radio, waiting for news just like she was. That same old clock was still on the wall, the one with the hands that had their names engraved on it. At the moment, they were all pointing at the symbol at the top, the one that said "mortal peril". They were all in mortal peril. Everyone in this world was at some level of danger, all because of one person. One, twisted, evil, demented person, who killed for sport and worked from the shadows.
Ginny opened the refrigerator and got the carton of milk and the chocolate syrup out and poured it all in a cup, stirring it together with a small silver spoon. When she was little and felt sad about all of those unimportant things, chocolate milk had worked better than a potion to cheer her up. Maybe it would now.
It did. She took a sip and immediately felt better. After draining the rest of the cup, she walked upstairs and plopped down onto her bed. Pigwidgeon started hooting and jumping up and down excitedly. She opened his cage and held him in her hands. The little fluffball had gotten a lot bigger than when Ron first got him.
Ron. Ginny never thought she would ever say this, but she actually missed him. He had always been another annoying older brother, but he had looked out for her. Now he was off with her boyfriend and friend, possibly dead or injured and probably not even giving her a thought. That was it. She couldn't stay here.
She walked down the stairs and out the back door to the shed, where Ron kept his broom, which she was going to use. After shoving her wand into her pocket, she grasped the handle. She was going to do it. She was going to run away. "Ginny! Come help with dinner." Crap. "Coming Mum!" She had been so close. So close to leaving. Now it was setting the table that was holding her back from freedom. After dinner. She thought. When no ones looking. She walked inside, temporarily defeated, but none the less excited.