A/N: Written for the QLFC, Tutshill Tornados Beater 2. Write about growing old on a winter day(s) OR youthfulness on a spring night(s).
Prompts:
(word) asleep
(sound) sobbing
(emotion) melancholy
The old woman glanced at the clock. It was four in the morning. Why was it always four A.M. that she needed to use the toilet? She was sound asleep and her bladder had awoken her. She missed the nights when she could have a cuppa before bed and not need to get up until morning, a reasonable hour of the morning. She was warm in her Doona and could see through the gap in the window that it had begun to rain. She lingered in the warmth until she could wait no longer.
The woman began her stiff limb shuffle to the toilet, guided by the moonlight.
Washing her hands, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was illuminated by a convenient street light that shone in from a neighbouring street. She didn't have a need to blind herself by turning a light on. In her reflection all she could see was the many lines that crossed her face, but if she used a bit of her imagination, she could still see that strong woman with red hair. The long waited for daughter of the Weasley family. Now she was the Matriarch of the Potter family and like all good matriarchs, you didn't cross her.
Or at least, for most of her life you didn't.
Ginny perched on the edge of the tub. She sighed, these days you were lucky if you could get a hex out of her. The years had worn her down and taken her youth and her lovely red hair, but in return they had given her the most precious things anyone could want. She had many wonderful years with Harry, having officially brought him into the family. Them getting to watch their children grow and have children of their own, was a blessing.
There were many times during their time at school she didn't think they were going to make it. He hadn't noticed her until she was fifteen, because she was just Ron's little sister with a stupid crush that couldn't even get a syllable out. When he finally did notice her he had to leave her to go on his search for the Horcruxes. Not to mention the fact that he was risking his bloody neck every year until he left. Only during the battle of Hogwarts, she did think her chances were well and truly finished. She felt wet drops on her night gown which broke her from her reverie.
Ginny couldn't do anything but sit there sobbing for a few moments, thinking about that painful night. She lost so many she loved and cared about, and then to find out she had lost another person most important to her, almost broke her. It hurt her even now to see that frame of his in Hagrid's arms, dangling lifeless as Lord Voldemort declared him to be dead. It reminded her of the day she did finally lose Harry. It was only last winter. She had always hoped that like the first time he had died, he would get up again. Her sobs became louder, only to stop suddenly as she felt a sharp pain through her chest. Death finally got Harry and left her alone to wait for him. She was fed up with waiting for him. Why couldn't Death have taken her too?
Ginny stood slowly, her aches and pains acting up because of the cold weather. Getting old was no fun. Stretching out, she tried to leave her old age melancholy in the bathroom. She wanted a good rest as she was going to be minding Lily's children in the morning and they were always full of beans.
This last year her children had been pests but with good intentions. They didn't like leaving her alone here, so they regularly dropped in and had organised weekly dinners so she wasn't alone.
Ginny began the shuffle back to her room. The thing was, she could never explain to her children that even though they were there, she was still alone. He was always missing. Harry needed to be there to make the loneliness go away.
Slowly lowering herself into the bed she once shared with Harry, Ginny looked around the room. It was filled with memories. There was the wardrobe that Harry had. She hadn't removed any of his clothes, she felt like if she did that, he would truly be gone.
She remembered the Christmas after James was born. He thought he should help her with the Christmas shopping because she was exhausted, he had bought her a dress that he thought she would like. It was really horrible. It was a shade of yellow that reminded her of the poop that James was producing. Harry was so proud of it, she couldn't bear to tell him the truth.
She wore that dress to death around the house so that at least Harry could see her in it. Slowly she began to love it because of the way Harry would light up when he saw her in it. Also it did hide the baby poop when the others came along and she had many nappies to change.
She longed to see Harry again. Ginny knew that when she did, his face would light up as though she was wearing that dress. When she finally got settled in bed, she rolled over to face Harry's side of the bed. She missed reaching out and feeling him there.
"Mum!" Lily called out, unlocking the front door, "Did you forget that you were minding the kids?" She paused waiting for an answer.
"Where are you?" She called out when she didn't get one.
Lily looked up the stairs and then down the passage towards the kitchen, listening and watching intently for a sign of her mother. Something wasn't right. She climbed the stairs apprehensively, one at a time. Barking something like "wait down there" to the footsteps on the stairs behind her, she quickened her pace. She opened her parent's room door to find her mother lying in bed. Lily quickly crossed the room to her and felt her mother was cold. Lily collapsed in a heap and began to hyperventilate. Her mum was gone.
