Disclaimer: I own the cabbage rolls and Harry's special little nickname. Rowling, was nice enough to lend me her characters so I could make fun of them and give them back.
Here I am in my bedroom at the end of my fourth year, just thinking. That's kind of unusual for me; people don't just say "Ginny Weasley" and automatically think "innovative thinker." I'm just too hyper. But after all, I'm no Ravenclaw, so there's my excuse.

But a person's got to think sometimes. I mean, I was there; I saw it happen. I saw Sirius... I can't say it. I can't think it. Isn't it funny? You spend a whole summer with someone (meanwhile developing a tiny crush on him--but I'll never tell), and just when you get to know and love him, well, suddenly you're not allowed to see him anymore.

I guess it isn't funny. No, but when you live with Fred and George, things you can't explain are simply humorous in some sick, twisted way. Like how everyone seems to forget that I'm grieving, too. I know, it's not all about me, but seriously, out of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, I'm the one that spent the most time with Sirius. I got to know him better. And did Ron and Hermione have to see him...

I still can't think about it. I remember waking up in the Hospital Wing three weeks ago.

"Mum, where is everyone?" I asked, sitting up under the blankets. Mum was sitting between Ron and I, and she scooted closer to my bed.

"Well, dear, Ron and Hermione are here in Hospital. Tonks is in St. Mungos, and Harry, Neville, and Luna are back in school." I could see she was avoiding my eyes, and my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

"But Mum," I squeaked, "you guys got Sirius out, right? Is he at headquarters? He's not sick or anything?"

Mom didn't look at me directly. She seemed extremely uncomfortable, and I stopped breathing for the most dreadful minute of my life.

"No, sweetheart, Sirius isn't sick," she responded, taking my hands. "He has passed away."

So, there it was. You know, just a month ago I was stupid enough to think the whole Chamber of Secrets thing would be the low point in my life. Funny how things change, eh? Screamingly hilarious.

That's not what I was thinking about originally, of course. At times like this thoughts tend to turn towards the greater misery--at least mine do, albeit unwillingly. It's kind of strange, really. Maybe it's Fred and George's influence, but when I'm around other people I tend to put on a "mask" of being a headstrong, optimistic individual with a great sense of humour. I actually tend to be more cynical in my thoughts (though I do keep the headstrong--I get that from Mum). I guess I'm a bit afraid of rejection--if people don't like my mask, it's okay, cause that isn't really me, anyway.

I was originally thinking about Harry. No, I'm over him. I was just wondering why he's acting so strangely. Ron and Hermione are convinced that he knows something about the prophesy--the way he keeps changing the subject or leaving the room when it's mentioned. Well, it's got to be something dreadful for that kind of reaction.

Actually, I lied a little bit. I'm not quite over Harry. I've gotten rid of the damned blushing thing, though, so that's good. Around Easter last year in the library when I gave him his Easter egg and he said he wanted to talk to Sirius, he gave me the cutest little puppy-eyed look, and my knees grew weak. I ate a bit of his chocolate to give myself time to recover. I hadn't realized that would still happen around him! So, yes, I guess I do still have a teensy crush on him, but it's not because he's the Boy-Who-Lived anymore.

Actually, there's quite a funny story there. One time at the Burrow we had been eating cabbage rolls, and I guess it didn't quite agree with him. Well, his eyes grew wide and he threw himself up the stairs, trying, I assume, to get to the bathroom, and the whole family heard this huge blaaat echoing from the staircase. His new nickname for the next year was the Boy-Who-Farted.

I know, I'm a girl so I shouldn't think farting is funny. Well, guess what? I have six older brothers. I had to develop toilet humour or spend the rest of my life like Percy, sniffing in disapproval all the time.

Sirius used to tell me funny jokes when I was feeling down. I used to go feed Buckbeak with him and listen to his troll jokes. Yes, they were a bit crude, but I appreciated them anyway. That, with his good looks is what gave me that crush on him. But it's no use now. He'll never again take me aside when I'm thinking about something dreadful and tell me jokes until I crack a smile. He's gone. He's... he's dead. There, I've said it.

Sirius is dead.


A/N: One-shot, btw. So, what did you think? Did you like it, hate it, want to throw it across the room and set it on fire?

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