Stand Back Up

"It's only my ankle, I can do it myself!" Ginny said impatiently... (OotP, US796)

Paraphrase (OotP, US798):

A jet of red light flew from one of the Death Eaters wands and Ginny jerked her head roughly to the side, as if to dodge. But as Harry watched, the jet of red light brushed against the side of her face and she keeled over sideways and lay there unconscious.

Eyes closed, face still pressed to the floor, Ginny listened carefully as the footsteps faded away. Carefully, she counted – there went Harry and Neville, followed by each and every one of the Death Eaters –

She smiled, eyes still closed. Moving her arm slowly, she pointed her wand at her injured ankle. "Ferula," she whispered, and a bandages flew out of her wand. Wincing, Ginny waited silently for her head to stop swimming as she gritted her teeth against the pressure.

One, two, three, four, five...

She had waited as long as she dared.

Bracing her free hand against the floor, Ginny pushed up, opening her eyes as she moved. Shakily, she rose up on one arm and surveyed the destruction with angry eyes.

Right, then, she thought fiercely. Time to get up.

Raising her other arm, she pressed against the floor, pushing up until she was on her hands and knees. And then came the fun part –

With a deep breath, she swung around her right leg, pressing her foot into the ground and pushing up. Still kneeling on her left knee, she struggled to keep her balance –

"Come on, Ginevra!" she hissed angrily, and, swallowing,she lifted her left foot.

A wave of dizziness and nausea hit her in an instant and she gritted her teeth once more, Pressing her left hand down hard into the stone floor and pushing up yet again.

Thirty seconds later, she could not for the life of her figure out how she had made it to her feet.

Closing her eyes, she swayed slightly as the pain wracked her body and Ginny swore darkly through the fog in her mind.

Then Neville's screams began to echo through the Department of Mysteries, and the fog lifted.

She set the pain aside.

Spinning on her heel, Ginny turned and set off for the Veil Room, wand held firmly in hand.

She said, with an oddly twisted smile, "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?" (HBP, US646)

She watched him walk away, tears welling in her eyes as she stared at his retreating back. Why had she let it end like that? Why had she just let him go? There was so much more to say –

He wasn't out of reach yet.

Rising to her feet, she stood there for a moment and simply stared at him. The sun, despite the depressing day, was playing idly across his jet-black hair as he walked away toward the lake. What he had said – it had hurt. More than anything she'd ever experienced before, it had hurt.

She set the pain aside.

"Hey, Potter!" she called, ignoring the outraged gasps that sounded around her as the Minister glazed at her for interrupting people's grief. "Wait a moment!"

Harry froze where he stood, his back still to her, and Ginny smiled.

She still had it.

Skirting carefully around the crowd of onlookers, Ginny made her way across the grounds and stopped just behind him. "Just who do you think you are, Harry Potter?" she demanded, and he whipped around to stare at her, incredulous.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me!" she repeated, crossing her arms and tapping her foot as she glared at him. Absently, she reflected that she should probably lower her voice for the sake of security – Mad-Eye would be proud. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione raise her head from Ron's shoulders, a watery smile forming on her face, as Ron stared at Harry and Ginny, dumbstruck.

"Just who do you think you are, asking me to stay behind while you go off and fight?" Ginny asked in a heated whisper, and Harry swallowed nervously as Ginny drew her wand and idly twirled it in one hand. "Isn't it my brother who was just attacked by a feral werewolf? Isn't it my father that was nearly killed by Voldemort's pet snake? And wasn't it my uncles who died in the first war? Don't I have as much a reason to fight as you do, Harry Potter, or is this your war and yours alone?"

Harry opened his mouth and stared at her blankly as a true smile broke out on Hermione's face, and Ginny forced back her own triumphant smile.

"I suppose I'm to just wait for you, then?" she continued, this time allowing mild disgust to lace her voice. "Barefoot and in the kitchen, even?" she asked darkly, and Harry finally found his voice.

"What?" he gasped in outrage. "No? Ginny, I – How could you even think that?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, with you saying stupid things like that?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows, and Ron choked back a laugh as Hermione leaned her head against his chest, giggling softly into her fist.

"I – Ginny, I didn't mean–"

"If you think I'm going to sit at home and be your waiting princess, your pretty little damsel in distress while you go off and fight "the man's fight,"" Ginny continued, stepping forward to glare directly into Harry's beautiful green eyes, "then you'd better guess again."

Harry stared at her.

From beyond, a man chuckled happily, stroking his hands through his long, flowing beard. He'd seen the girl fall when she was eleven, and he'd been waiting ever since for her to stand back up.

"Well done, Ginevra," Dumbledore murmured as he gazed down through the clouds.

Rising to his feet, he disappeared.

You know the drill by now. Review if you have something to say.

Cheers,
LIZ