Ginny half-sat half-laid on the couch that was pushed to the wall of her small living area. Her arm rested on the arm of the sofa, which had an indent in that very spot where somebody before her had rested many years before her. Ginny had found the sofa at the estate sale of a woman now long deceased. The fabric was plain, pale blue, and worn, but it was well loved and kept up. The whole couch felt like home, and reminded her of where she grew up as a child. Now she lived far away from the Burrow of her childhood and family, but sitting in her couch always made Ginny nostalgic for her past home, and the cozy light of her old living room. Beside her was her favorite woolen blanket she had thrown off of her moments before, when she got too hot. She was flipping through an old book, worn around the edges with a thick leather cover. As she flipped a page, she stopped to smell the aroma of the old volume. It was smells like that smell that made her miss her days of schooling. Her old school had many books in it, especially old books like the one she was holding. In fact, the book she was holding was one that she had kept from her school days.
It was a Defense Against The Dark Arts book, and very old by the look of it. She had gotten that book at a second-hand bookstore long ago, and it had somehow lasted with her until now. She turned another page, and a piece of parchment slipped out of the pages and settled onto the ground, barely visible under the sofa. Ginny reached out to pick it up. She unfolded it gently as to not disturb any writing that might be on the page. It had been at least four years since she had opened this particular book, and could not imagine what the paper could possibly say. She opened it, and saw that it was mostly notes that she had taken in her Defense Against The Dark Arts class her last year in school. The page contained her handwritten notes about a spell that she had had particular trouble learning. As she skimmed over the notes she saw a small doodle at the bottom of the page. It was a heart, intricately drawn, with small swirls and sweeping curls around it. Inside the heart she had written her initials, and those of a school-mate's.
Her corners of her mouth turned upwards as she studied the doodle in the corner of her page. The thought of her school-days romance brought back a flurry of emotions, both heartbreaking and lovely. The other initials in the heart belonged to a boy, now she supposed he was a man, named Harry Potter. Ginny had known Harry for much of her life, and they had always been close friends. Years ago, they had dated, and fallen in love. Ginny folded the paper back up and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. Ginny had always loved denim. Something about the way they felt against her leg, not too soft, yet not too rough either, always attracted Ginny to them. She helped herself off of the couch with her arms and then stretched her back, letting her legs acclimate to moving again. Ginny then expertly maneuvered herself through the jam-packed closet she called her living room. On the floor was a large trunk, belonging to her husband, which she had tried to disguise with a glass flower vase and various shades of roses and daisies spilling out. There were stacks of books, much like the one Ginny was looking through, piled somewhat neatly on the floor. The walls, painted a very faint yellow, were covered in photos of Ginny and her husband's past. They moved, waved, and smiled at her as she passed them.
As she made her way out of the living area, she entered a small hallway and took the doorway to her left, where her bedroom was. She set her book down on small wooden nightstand and turned on the small lamp sitting on her nightstand also. She did so with a small tap from her wand, that she received from her other jeans pocket. Ginny was a witch, and her husband and her family were all witches and wizards. In fact, she had been a witch for her entire life. She had gone to an academy when she was young to study magic, just like almost all witches and wizards do. Ginny had gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with her five brothers, and most of her good friends.
Ginny made her way back through the hallway and entered the living room once more, where she sat back down on the couch. She thought about watching the television, but nothing sounded good to watch. Instead, she looked out of a small window opposite to her that looked out on the city of London. Her small abode was an apartment right in the middle of London. Although it was small and cramped, it was close to the city, which was where Ginny enjoyed being. She gazed out the window and looked for familiar faces walking below the building. It was dark, about eight o'clock, and she couldn't make out any pedestrian's face. Even with the street lamps and the faint glow of the moon, the street below her was dark and obscured. It was mid-winter, and although it was only the middle of the evening, the moon was already risen and had taken its place in the sky. The lights on various buildings gave a glow to the street and sidewalks, on which many people and cars hurried past.
At last, she heard a key in the lock of her apartment door and quickly got up from the sofa. A man entered the room. He was medium height and thin, but not too thin. He had green eyes that shone even though the apartment was dimly lit. Ginny's legs moved quickly, and her face had a joyous smile on it. She took the man into her arms, tenderly, but with certain urgency as well. "Harry" she breathed deeply "you're back".