Author's Note: In honor of the new movie, I decided to break out the ol' shuffle and flew my angstin' muscles. It's based off a mime that's floating around on DeviantArt. Take five songs, and write five drabbles based on them in the time it takes for the song to finish. I'm proud to say I didn't cheat, and I have no life. Feel free to play, folks. It's free.

Keep in mind that I haven't read the books since the last one came out, so excuse the lack of details or name-naming or accuricy in general.

--playlist--

Teenage Wasteland-The Who

"Ginny," Mr. Weasly. "Boys, don't you have homework to be doing?"

The four Weasly children did not respond, chewing at their breakfast and flipping through old magazines.

Mr. Weasly glanced up from his copy of The Daily Prophet, dropping his mug of butterbeer onto the table top. "Ron? Fred? Ginny?"

Ginny slammed her magazine impatiently in front of her. "I'll do it, alright?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at his youngest child. "Don't you talk to me like that, young lady."

Scowling, Ginny raised herself from the table and stomped towards the stairs. "I have a letter to write."

As the door slammed up the stairs, Arthur Weasly gaped at his three boys. "What in the name of Merlin is wrong with her?"

Fred and Goerge, fingering a small twitching device beside their plates, smirked identically. Fred snorted umspympathathetically at his father. "Looks like our little Ginny is growing up, eh, Goerge?"

Arthur warily straightened his paper and sighed. "Teenagers."

Kangaroo Cry-Blue October (this ones corny XD)

"Don't go."

It was a whisper, barely audible as Ron started off towards the dust filled air, wand in hand and brilliant red hair matted with grime and sweat. Harry had already run several feet ahead.

Ron squinted at Hermione helplessly, bouncing on his heels as more explosions reverberated through the air. "Hermione..."

Tears glistened on her cheek, and her hands were pressed tightly against her mouth as the sudden, panic filled sobs caught in her throat. Suddenly, the thought that he won't come back, God he won't come back filled up all empty space in her mind until it was all she could hear, see, feel. She couldn't let him go, she wouldn't. She wouldn't be left alone. Not again.

And Ron could feel it slipping as well, his small strands of sanity left after days and months and years of constant fear and chaos and loss snapping like a rubber band stretched to far and too tight. She stood there, alone, a solitary figure left in only panic and death and war, and seemed to be the only beautiful thing worth looking for.

And he had to leave her.

Her voice was a whisper, and Ron barely heard it. "You'll come back. Promise you'll come back."

Another pillar fell at the mercy of green sparks, tumbling down in a cloud of smoke.

He didn't know if she heard him when he said it. "I promise."

Because he didn't know if he could make that promise as he followed after his best friend, leaving the broken eyes behind him.

Heartless-Kanye West

"I mean, we could have had it, if only--"

"Oh, Michael, will you drop it."

Michael Corner stopped mid-sentence and looked at Ginny. "What?"

Ginny's cheeks were red with frustration. "It's all I've been hearing from you, for two bloody weeks."

As she stomped off, Michael tugged at his Ravenclaw robe.

Well, he thought. Let's see if she ever meets anyone better then me.

Still. Heartless, Gryffindor bitch.

Road to Paradise-TAT

"Why is this so hard?"

Harry looked up from The Daily Prophet. Hermione sat beside him, staring at a page in her textbook with blank eyes.

"Well," he said quietly. "We're not going back next year, so I don't really think it's something to worry about--"

"No," she hissed, slamming the book shut and dropping it on the floor beside her. "That's not what I mean, Harry."

He knew what she meant. He said nothing.

"I mean, we're fighting so hard. For people we don't even know." She looked up at him, combing a shaking hand through a lock of her hair. "Is it even worth it, Harry?"

Harry leaned back against the bed as the moon hung in the black sky outside the Weasly's top floor window. "It's not supposed to be easy," he whispered. "I think it's worth it, though. But it's not supposed to be easy."

The Guns of Brixton-The Clash

Mrs. Weasly leaned into Mr. Weasly. "What's going to happen, Arthur?"

Arthur couldn't say anything, because there was nothing to say.

He knew what he should say, that they would all be fine. We'll win, Molly. We'll all make it out alright, and we'll be fine.

But that would have been lying.

Oh, it would have been horribly lying.

So, he said this:

"We'll fight, Molly. That's what we'll do. We won't let them get us without a fight."