Summary: Um, okay. This is just your sort of typical "Ginny waiting for Harry" story. Just my take on it. I'm trying to make it much more centered on Ginny's relationships with her family and friends that Ginny pining about Harry. Basically, it probably won't turn into a story with a happy ending. Just, not in the way that these stories usually do. It starts off slow, and is probably going to be a fairly quiet fic, so yeah…No big explosions or anything. That's all. I hope you enjoy it! I also definitely appreciate any reviews and constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize

Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley was tired. Her days had been long and hard, like all her days, but it was beginning to wear on her in a way that was obvious to everyone. Before, even when she was dead tired inside, her eyes still sparkled and her laugh still rang out like bells. Now, the deadness inside of her had come into her eyes, making them flat and dull. She no longer sparkled, and her laughs sounded empty.

I need more sleep she thought to herself. But even sleep, she knew, wasn't really going to help. Nothing could really fill the emptiness that was eating her from the inside out. She felt like a church bell, with her heart, encased in a hard shell to protect it from further damage, clanging against her skeleton, sending vibrations of loneliness through her muscles that only she could feel.

Ginny's only comfort was the boy who was dropping peacefully into sleep against her chest. His weight on her breastbone was soothing, his quiet breaths ruffling her shirtsleeve and the long tendrils of hair that had wandered over her shoulder. Ginny slid her hand over his smooth, pale forehead, running her fingers through his tousled black hair. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled her collarbone.

"Come on," Ginny murmured, "Time for bed."

"Mmmmm…" Was all she got in reply.

Ginny gently placed her hands under his arms, and lifted her son until his head lolled against her shoulder. With one arm securely under him, she carried him out of her room, and across the hallway to the small room that used to belong to Percy. It was still a rather plain room, but now with a smaller bed, children's books in place of the heavy volumes Percy had favored, and a few toys littering the floor.

Ginny lowered Sirius onto his bed. He stirred slightly until she pulled the covers up over him. Then he settled happily into his pillow. Ginny kissed him softly on the forehead before quietly making her way to the door. She left it open a tiny bit, so she could hear him in case he woke up in the middle of the night.

Ginny turned away from the door and saw her mother on the stairs coming up from the kitchen, watching her.

"Sleeping?" Molly asked.

"Yes," Ginny replied quietly, "He's finally gone down."

"He's just excited about seeing his uncles again. Once they get here, he'll be off your hands for awhile."

"Yes," Ginny said. She thought it would be very un-motherly to say, "I can't wait," and the last thing she wanted to do was give her mum solid evidence that she was an unfit mother. Ginny wouldn't have been able to stand the look on Molly's face. And Ginny loved her son more than anything in the world, but he was a handful, and having her brothers around was always a relief.

"You look tired, dear," Molly observed, looking critically up at Ginny, "You should go to bed straight away."

Ginny, still resentful of her mother's pesky nurturing, looked longingly across the hall at her soft bed, and said, with just a hint of defiance in her voice, "I think I'll have a cup of tea before I go to bed. Do you want one?"

"No, I'm exhausted. I was just coming up to see how you were doing, but now I'm off to bed."

Ginny looked at her mother, and her mother looked at her, and they both felt the same thing. The distance between them physically was just a few steps, but emotionally it was as wide as a canyon, and each was standing on a steep precipice looking at the other across that insurmountable distance. Molly smiled, turned, and headed back down the stairs towards her and Arthur's bedroom. Ginny sighed quietly to herself and followed. Molly turned away at the base of the stairs and entered her dark room without looking back and Ginny, who continued on into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, Ginny sat at the table and stared at the sink. She didn't want tea, but she absent-mindedly picked up a ginger cookie from the plate in the center of the table and nibbled on it. The sugary crustiness dissolved pleasantly on her tongue.

Ginny enjoyed this time of night, despite her tiredness. It was so quiet, so still, as if the whole world had just gone to bed, and as everyone lingered in between wakefulness and sleep, time came to a standstill and she could linger in it. Ginny listened, but the only sound was the quiet crunching of the ginger cookie between her teeth. She wasn't sure why she stayed up when she knew that Sirius would be awake and ready for another day of playing at six o'clock, but the stillness of that time of night was the last shred of hope that she dared to hang on to.

She thought, maybe, in this stillness here, if she could keep it that way forever, time would stop. And nothing would happen. She would stop having to worry about the next day. Her parents would stop becoming so old so quickly. Sirius wouldn't grow another day and could stay almost a baby for awhile.

Until Harry came home. And then her parents would be so happy that they wouldn't seem so old, and if they did, it'd be in a wonderful grandparent-type way that she could accept. And Sirius could grow up with a father the rest of his life, instead of having to wake up one morning thinking that there was a man out there with his blood, who was either dead, or who just couldn't be bothered to find him. And maybe, maybe if she could stop time for just a moment…When Harry came home, she would still be young and beautiful.

Outside, an owl hooted softly, shaking Ginny from her fantasies. She looked at the half-eaten cookie in her hand, and then at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. Time had started again. The sink began to drip slowly, the trees outside rustled quietly, and Ginny sighed, almost inaudibly. With a wave of her hand, she silenced the faucet, and turned to walk back of the stairs, the half-eaten cookie still in her hand.