Prompt: Balloon
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For years Ginny had felt as if she had a heavy load weighing her down. She knew why, she could identify the reason for it down to a specific evening. She had been sitting on the porch swing back at the Burrow; she loved that swing, leisurely relaxing in the breeze. It was a regular spot for her to think, through good times and bad.
That particular day, she had sat on the swing alone sipping her morning tea, until her brother Charlie came out and joined her. Watching the sunrise together in silence, she had laid her head on his shoulder and felt the contentment of familial love.
Later that evening, after the chaos of the entire extended family together, she had sought out the solace of the swing again, watching as the sun sank below the horizon. Just as she had thoughts of rising, before the chill settled in, Harry joined her. Again in silence, they had fluttered in the breeze, her head resting on his shoulder. It was then she realized that her love for him was the same as her love for Charlie. And for Bill, and Percy, and George, and Ron. A familial love, not one of excitement or passion.
That was when the weight appeared. Clearly something was wrong with her. How could she not love the great Harry Potter? Witches around the world swooned over him. The weight of what should have been, a marriage, a brood of children, a life together, yoked around her shoulders. Her family accepted it, accepted him as another son regardless, but she knew that she had failed their expectations.
That morning, waking up again, warm hand clutched in warm hand, Ginny felt something different. The feelings that had begun as a crush on someone completely inappropriate had turned into a friendship. Studying him asleep in the chair, where he had watched over her in illness, disproving the rumors that he was an uncaring and heartless bastard, her heart grew light. Was this just friendship? When he stirred in his sleep he clutched her hand more tightly, briefly, before opening his eyes and offering her a faint smile. At that moment her heart might as well have been a child's balloon, the string escaping from a tightly held fist, and soaring to the skies, full of lightness and optimism. The weight was gone.
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A/N: 395 words
Sorry about last week, it was, problematic. Back on track now. I promise. :)
As always, your thoughts are greatly appreciated. (Especially the ones that came during a problematic week. Your patience, also greatly appreciated.)