So this is the first in my series of drabbles. It's from the perspective of the girl Ginny is comforting in the Battle of Hogwarts. Enjoy and please review.

You wave your parents goodbye from the window of the train, insisting everything is fine.

Your head of house marshals you from your dormitory, you know something is wrong.

You and your friends find an empty compartment and sit down. They look at you tentatively, asking if everything is all right. You reassure them that it is.

You're in the Great Hall, everyone looks frightened. The Dark Lord is on his way, they say, and Hogwarts is preparing to fight. A boy is shouting that he wants to stay and you applaud in agreement.

You stare out of the window at the countryside flashing by. It all seems a blur.

You are standing, uniting against the Slytherin girl. Uniting against evil; it all seems so clear.

You don't really want to go back there, to the place where it all happened. You think to your ankle; it still twinges, even now.

You are being ushered towards the Entrance Hall, part of the group that is to man the grounds against the oncoming Death Eaters.

The harsh rattle of the train against the tracks shakes your mind, clattering in your ears. You do not listen to your friends chatter. You can't.

You stand watching, waiting, listening to the sounds of the intruders trying to force their way in. Suddenly, there is an almighty crash and a crumble of rocks as the wall is breached. It is time.

Your friends give up trying to engage you in conversation. They don't understand.

You duck and dodge jets of red and green light, firing your own curses at the masked figures. One of them falls and you feel a triumphant sense of pride. You move onto another.

You want to explain to them, to tell them how you feel, but you know it is impossible. You are separate beings now.

You are fighting, battling as hard as you can. Somebody points a wand at you, and you collapse in pain.

The country is wilder now, and you know that you are drawing closer. Closer to the alien castle that was once so familiar.

You writhe and gasp, your bones are on fire as the Cruciatus Curse courses through you. Vaguely you feel something snap, but you pay no attention. Then, the pain stops, but you just lie there.

You feel sick as every heartbeat takes you closer.

A girl is crouching over you, all the noise of battle is gone.

You finger the red and gold ribbons on your trunk, the colours of the brave and noble.

You whimper over your broken ankle, and cry for home. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to run away; all your courage and valour is gone.

You tug at the ribbons, and they come off. You open the window slightly and hold them out, watching them flap desperately in the wind. You open your fingers and they are gone, cut to shreds beneath the wheels of the train. You do not belong in Gryffindor anymore.

Up next: Draco and Pansy