Author's Note: I make no money from writing, and own no part of Harry Potter
"Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strength. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that it strength."
-Arnold Schwarzenegger
Ginny Weasley's eyes darted around the room, trying to memorize every aspect of the fifth-year dorm while she traced the movements of a spell chain with her wand; it had taken over two weeks to convince Bill to teach her, breaking the mirage of his baby sister after she told him about the misadventure at the end of the school year. Her dorm-mates were giggling around one of the four-posters, comparing make-up techniques and boys they preferred.
She watched Clarissa look up from one of the magazines strewn about and give the redhead an inscrutable look, before extricating herself from the gaggle and walking across the room. She plopped heavily onto the bed hoping to break Ginny's concentration, and blinked owlishly when she simply shifted her weight to stay upright.
"Hello, Clarissa."
"Ginny, how was your summer?"
"Oh, I'm pretty good. You?" Ginny said, the last movement of the stunning spell flowing into the first of the disarming.
"Good, good. Listen, we're going to make a kitchen run, try to swipe some elven wine. Care to join us?" The girl asked hopefully.
"No, thank you, I want to perfect this spell chain, and wine will probably make that more difficult than it needs to be." she replied with a small grin.
"Hey, what's gotten into you lately?" she asked seriously, "You've been different this past week; please don't take offense, but after first year, and the signs we ignored then..." Clarissa trailed of, wary of the Weasley Temper.
Ginny finally broke the chain, turning to give her concerned friend a warm smile. She was touched by the concern, unnecessary though it was; she had changed with the calendar year, along with anyone remotely close to Harry. She inspected the girl next to her and those she could see behind, the difference between them illuminating her mind in that moment.
They were still little girls who believed in things like 'Prince Charming' and 'Happily Ever After'; still concerned with the newest fashions and who didn't have them. Ginny was more surprised that she wasn't bitter about her transformation, than she was with the actual revelation. She felt pride swell under her breast, punctured by the cost of turning from girl to warrior.
First year, her ideas of authority and confidence had shattered when she was able to remain undetected and filled with darkness; when the person to save her was not a member of her own family, or the greatest wizard of the age, but a boy she couldn't even bear to look at. Her paradigm shifted as they sat in the headmaster's office, notions of who would save her when she was in trouble, and why, transforming as her mother smothered her ineffectually. She made it her goal to become the Morgana to Harry's Merlin, the woman to match him in every way.
She realized the Ginny Weasley that had just jumped from the back of an invisible horse believed this would turn out just like The Chamber of Secrets: they would be scared, dirty, but no worse for wear. Here was the chance to finally prove herself worthy to stand next to him. She jumped into that mire with both feet, following the lead of her Merlin; they would rescue the hostage and destroy the bad guys, then return triumphantly to Hogwarts to be lauded by the school. To think a plan seemed unnecessary, because the end result was never in question.
'How childish..."
The two words sprung from her mind unbidden, and she was shocked by the truth of them.
Instead of 'proving herself worthy', she had done nothing but get in the way, dividing the group and slowing them down with a broken ankle, the least debilitating injury in the history of ever. Her innocent world-view crumbling around her as she watched her friends struck down one by one. She spent the summer trying to reclaim her equilibrium through something called 'post-traumatic stress syndrome' Hermione had written her about.
The pieces of her broken paradigm solidified as she watched her hero bounce off the dinner table after crashing into the Great Hall. She made the decision sitting in front of the broken man, almost unrecognizable as he turned to the woman across from Ginny and made a joke before passing out, to put away childish things and dedicate herself to the stop anyone having to live the life Harry was forced to. To do that, she would have to be strong, smart, tough, and most importantly, prepared.
"Thank you, Clarissa, but I'm not being possessed," she grinned, "I've just realized a few things I probably should have a long time ago."
"Really? Like what?" she asked, closing the book and moving to the edge of the bed, preparing to hear some juicy gossip.
"I want to be just like my big brother." she stated simply.
"That's wonderful Ginny! Um...which one?" Clarissa asked, confused and giggling.
"Harry, of course." she replied as the door to the dorm swung open, the other girls squealing and scrambling to hide the magazines. Ginny shook her head minutely as Hermione and Luna poked a head in.
"Come on, Ginny, we're heading to The Room." she said excitedly.
"No bookshelves!?" Luna exclaimed, looking at the sixth-year horrified, and received a commiserating look in return. Ginny waved to the fifth-year girls, leaving them behind her to join her friends.