Snip. Snip. Snip.
Another article for the scrapbook. Of all the horrible things My Lord has done.
"Oh why can't they have a decent picture for once?" She muttered under her breath.
"What was that?" her husband asked as he strolled into the kitchen. He was late. And his toast was cold.
Not her problem.
"Nothing, nothing Harry dear." She cooed. Handsome Harry smiled at the pet name her doting mother gave him. Long dead though. Like most of the Weasleys. "Would you like some orange juice?"
"I'll get it myself thanks."
She turned her back on him and looked over the article she held in her slender fingers.
If only there was a picture. Please God, let her see his face one more time.
Did he have that same high cheekbone?
Those alluring eyes?
She wasn't sure.
She was in love with the boy she wrote to many, many years ago. But now, this man, this murderer, this her husband's greatest enemy, was her last link. The last way she could reach him.
Him.
Tom.
Tom, the boy she loved. The boy she never stopped loving.
"I'm off sweetheart." Harry said, as she drifted back to reality.
It does not do, to dwell on dreams, and forget to live.
Harry pulled her into a great bear hug. Her article was crushed in the embrace, and she resented Harry because of it.
"Are you coming into the Ministry Offices today?" he asked as he fastened his cloak to shield him from the rain, and tucked his wand safely away.
She smiled serenely at him.
"I might."
He walked out the door. She stood staring at it.
She could run. Run to Voldemort. She could find a way to contact him.
Couldn't she?
Oh stop Ginny! You're thinking like a mad woman!
But she couldn't think any more. All she could do was feel.
She could feel a lump in her throat. Swallowing it quickly, she grabbed her cloak and her little wand.
She began walking away. She walked away from the life she knew. And the people she loved, and all the lives (including her loving parents) that had been sacrificed to keep Peace, Order, and Good Government.
And she ran to him. Ready and willing to spill the Order's secrets if he asked her. Ready to turn a blind eye on innocent lives. Simply because he would ask. Because she loved him.
And none of it mattered anymore.
For if one moment, she could be in his arms, and he would tell her that he loved her, the same as he loved her when she was a tender little girl. She would do anything for him.
For old times' sake.
Fin