CHAPTER SEVEN

Ginny woke with a start, though she wasn't sure why. The Burrow was perfectly peaceful, and if it weren't for the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen she would've guessed that she was home completely alone. There was obviously no one in the house but her mother and herself, and she was pretty sure that the others weren't out picnicking.

The other occupants of the house were no doubt out on some mission, as it usually was when things were this quiet. People in association with the Order rarely did anything else, or had anything better to do these days.

Ginny snuggled back up to her blankets, not quite ready to get up. She could still feel Harry in her bed, smell him on her sheets, and – if she closed her eyes tightly enough – could still see him playing absentmindedly with the stray threads hanging off of her quilt. She, of course, had washed the bedding since then, but the memories were good enough for her.

After about ten minutes of reminiscence, she decided that she might as well get up. She did, after all, have a big day of cleaning and reading ahead of her. That was what just about every day had consisted of since September.

Her mother was in the kitchen, scrubbing the sink. Ginny never quite understood what the point of it was, but the notion only confirmed her suspicions. Molly did this every time Harry, Ron, Hermione, or anyone from the Order went out on a mission. Ginny never even had to ask.

"Everything alright, Mum?" asked Ginny, knowing quite well that everything was not.

"Fine, dear." Her mother replied, scrubbing the sink more vigorously. She never got to go on the missions either. The Order believed that someone should stay back with Ginny, just to be safe. Safe from what, Ginny wasn't sure, but she had given up on asking questions months ago.

"They'll be alright, Mum. No one's gotten hurt too badly on a mission so far."

"Yes, yes, I know."

"And I'm sure that Harry wouldn't ask Ron and Hermione to come and help him if he thought they'd be seriously injured."

"I know, dear." Said her mother, panting slightly and taking a break from her scrubbing. "I just get worried when it's only the three of them like this – no Order members there to help them or anything. You understand…" she said, with a feeble smile at her daughter. Ginny smiled back, quite sure that her mother wasn't supposed to divulge this particular bit of information. She let out a sigh.

"So," she said, wanting desperately to change the subject. "What are my chores for the day?" With this, she pulled her hair up into a pony-tail. Her mother smiled at her, placing a gentle and slightly sudsy hand on her cheek.

"I really appreciate what you're doing here, Ginny."

"It's no problem, Mum. There's nothing else to do around here anyway."

"No, I don't mean the chores, although it has been quite helpful to have you around for that." Ginny looked slightly confused. "I haven't told you yet how proud I am of you for dealing with your situation in such a mature fashion. I appreciate it more than I've let on lately." Ginny looked at her mother for a second, as if wondering whether or not this conversation was headed in a pleasant direction. Deciding that she couldn't dodge every iffy topic, she plopped into one of the kitchen chairs and buried her face in her hands.

"You have no idea." Her mother smiled at her and placed a loving hand on her shoulder.

"I don't tell you often enough how proud I am of you. Seeing as we're in the middle of a war…I should probably start." Ginny felt tears threatening her eyes, but she wasn't in the mood to have a sobbing spell today. She got up sharply and wiped away the single tear that had slipped out, not wanting her mother to know how upset she really was.

"Um…well, chores…you know." She said weakly, turning on the spot and leaving the room to clean whatever needed it.