Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
AN: This is a basic heads up to get some things straight. Book seven is disregarded, as are some other things. Ginny left after her fifth year and the war has been going on since.
Ginny twirled her martini glass, letting some of the clear liquid spill over. She fished the olive from the bottom of the glass and popped it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she started nibbling at the tough green skin.
God she was tired. The slight rest she gave her eyes did little to relieve her. She hadn't slept a full night since her fifth year, five years ago. Her eyes took on a constant state of being dry and sore.
The martini was a bad idea. Her headache grew to be a pounding migraine and the alcohol made her even more thirsty. The ache in her jaws from chewing a mere olive served as a reminder of what happened twenty minutes ago.
As a liaison between the magical and muggle worlds, she traveled more than any of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Her meeting with the ever-so-stubborn Prime Minister of England went just as they always did: horribly. She desperately tried to convince the muggle leader to take more precautions and explain the ever-changing war situation, but the only thing she got in return was a hoarse throat.
The once fiery Ginny was losing it. She was all over the place: fighting battles, surviving ambushes, aiding the muggles (in over 27 countries, mind you), and being Harry's biggest form of support. Knowing she should be on her guard, she still slumped into her chair, rested her head and thought of finally being home in Harry's arms.
Ginny didn't, however, notice a rather dashing blond man silently come over, order her another martini and slip her wand from the pocket of her robe.
AN: I know this is a bit of a slow start and it's incredibly short; it won't be that long a story, anyway. Review please!
