She was awoken early by a sharp noise - an alert that she was needed - just like how she had been woken the night before, and the night before that, and the night before...

Like a machine she simply rose from her warm and snug bed ignoring the insistent grab for her arm – she didn't like leaving his side either but she had no choice when work called - dressed in a warm robe as even their bedroom was slightly chilly (she didn't even want to wonder what the temperature must be outside then), and then grabbed her bag and headed off in the brisk night air to do her duty before there was another death on her conscience.

There was no one out on the streets or in the safety passageways. It was a Grade Yellow night, meaning that only those on important professional duty - such as herself, the kind that simply couldn't wait, answering the call of her job - were allowed out in the open. Everyone else were advised (basically ordered) to remain at home and even she could only travel by the light of her wand and luck by her side. It was dangerous and had been this way for years now, even before she had the chance to finish school really and now at the age of 22 she was wondering when it would ever end. Voldemort was long gone, but then so was Harry and others had risen to take Voldemort's place - so the War carried on. She shuddered. It wasn't possible to be worse than the Dark Lord, but the enemy had proven they could strike just as bad in different ways.

The war had spilled over into the Muggle's world, and although they thought it was simply between America and some distant country they really had no idea that had been really caused by little ol' them. Whenever she caught sight of some piece of Muggle tabloid, a piece on the Muggle TV or newspaper she felt such guilt that it had been their fault - those of wizardry - and knew in her heart that this was why their worlds could never mix. In a way, she knew that her husband was right, even if she disagreed with him vocally. They were just different from them, and although she didn't agree with his hard-set ways that they were better than them, (how could they be when they were bringing death to their doors when it should have nothing to do with them?) she could finally see reason for why they should never mix. Look at everything they would blame them for. She sighed. Her family - especially her father - god rest his soul - would be so happy if one day Muggles and wizards could live and mix together...

No, it wouldn't do to think of such things. She had to keep her mind on the job and her thoughts open. It was dangerous out on the streets and her husband would likely bite her head off if he witnessed the lack of attention she was showing for her own safety…

She sighed. He was a job in himself, probably because he didn't have a job. He was too wounded for one - the kind of wound which had stripped most of his life from him and had been given to him at the age of 17, nearly 18 just before Voldemort had been finally rid from this world. It had always been a well known danger, being on one side of the War and then switching – the fact that he had survived at all was a miracle in itself, a miracle performed by none other than Harry himself, Hermione, Ron, herself, and a few others.

Another reason was he was simply too hated and not trusted at all – few would ever welcome him back while the War was still current - he was only accepted by a few and that was luck he even had them. She smiled to herself as she checked around a corner, trying to stay focused distantly. Her special guy, all hers for the taking really. She could completely understand everyone's lack of trust for him of course, but also knew it was their loss they hadn't welcomed him back. They were missing out on a great guy – a changed man. She liked looking after him really, that's what had brought them together after all. He was on the brink of death and it had been her, and only her, who had managed to save his life, and then nurse him back to so-so health for months. He had whinged a lot, he was a Malfoy so what else could you expect? She knew how to deal with him though, fire always melted ice after all, and she was the fieriest in their small group. Something he loved about her, late at night…

She pulled back sharply as danger travelled past – she had almost been caught in the middle of it thanks to her thoughts, and doubled the charms around herself with halted breath, she didn't have time to deal with any trouble that night, not when she, as a Healer was needed urgently. She was almost there as well, she would probably already been there if her thoughts hadn't consumed her so much. It was just…well, him. It was hard to describe how one could actually fall in almost love…well, they were married, so she guessed it was okay to admit it now…that she loved him…but…it was just so hard to explain. She always thought of him while on a job though, because it had been him who had given her the chance and the opportunity to become such a Healer. She was thankful she wasn't with Hermione in some other country, fighting for her own life and others at all hours of the day and night, or living the life of any other number of students who were in jobs such as clearing away dead bodies or even working in Mungo's. That's where Ginny had been heading, what with her Healing training. Thanks to Draco though, she had become the apprentice of a high ranking private Healer and now only did house calls, which was how she liked it. Mungo's was way too depressing to work at and here she worked with her skill and gut instinct without any interference and so far no one had died while at her hands, the only ones who had were those she hadn't been able to reach in time…and she wouldn't let this one become another on that list. She pressed on, tightening her cloak around her. It was cold – surely that would take another life as they carelessly battled on in a fight – too pent up on fear to remember to refresh a heating charm around them to save them from the cold. That's what had taken Colin from this world after all…

She tightened her emotions and her fist around the close of her bag, where it always rested – ready to pull anything from it in the slightest instant. She hated what this world had become. She remembered when she had been nothing but a kid, flirting and mucking around in school so much. If she had only realised it would become this bad…

She closed her eyes as she rested for a moment beside a Ward, waiting for it to clear – showing that it was once safe again to pass through it to the next zone. As Draco said, she couldn't let this get her down. She was the strong one for so many…they all relied on her spunk and strength to keep on a brave face and fight this war out until the end. She couldn't give up. And she was right. So many depended on her…like this dying child was right then and there. She hurried on, and soon she was there finally, finally. She kissed the charm around her throat, still warm from Draco's words, and pressed into the darkness which surrounded the house, keeping it away from harms way of the war zone.

She raised her arm and knocked softly at the door, which opened immediately with the much scraping of locks and charms.

"Ginny, thank god you've come."

This was written for a challenge on the site FictionNET. You can find a link if you're interested in my profile, sign up and tell them Keladryie sent you.

The challenge this is for is: HP Challenge 14: Workaholic.

Under these circumstances:

Now, we all know that there are a wide range of jobs in the HP-verse. We've even seen some of the adult characters in action at their workplace – all of the Hogwarts Professors, Aurors and Ministry workers.

For this challenge, take one of the child characters of HP – by 'child' we mean either one of the students - and write about them when they're older and holding down their own job.

N.B: characters not allowed for this challenge include the twins, Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley etc, since they have left Hogwarts and have been seen in a place of work.

All entries must be a minimum of 1000 words.