Ginny
The phases of my childhood are marked by the departure of my brothers.
When I was one year old Bill went to Hogwarts. I don't remember much about it, just that that year got a lot more chaotic, Bill was mum's main help looking after the rest of us. I remember missing him tucking me in at night, and the authoritative way he would take control when we got out of hand. He was the brother I idolised.
When I was three Charlie got his letter. I remember crying so hard as he waved goodbye from the red carriage. He was the brother who loved me best, and always included me and took me out with him when he was going exploring. He taught me how to ride a broom when I was old enough, and I was constantly seeking his approval, and trying to make him laugh.
I can remember Percy trying to take charge of Fred and George that year, as Bill had said he was the one that was supposed to help mum keep order. That didn't work very well. The years that followed all blur into one, the only clear memory is of Percy running down the stairs sobbing in terror as Fred and George put a pillowcase over mum's magic mop and told him it was a ghost.
After three years of attempting to be Bill's replacement during term time, Percy finally managed to escape the twin's taunts and followed in the footsteps of his heroes to Hogwarts. I didn't want to look like a sissy, running after the train, because Fred and George were pretending not to care that Percy was leaving, so I pretended not to either. I know that hurt him a lot more than he let on. Yet watching him leave, I longed to shout out, and beg him not to. Percy always protected me from the brunt of Fred and Georges jokes, when I was young and naïve enough to trust them. He was the one I went to when I was scared, because I knew he would protect me from anything. He was the one who took the time to teach me to read.
With Percy gone, I grew more independent, more daring. Fred and George had lost their main source of entertainment so my sixth and seventh years were consequently ones of following Fred and George in one crazy scheme after another, I loved those years, Fred and George made everything fun, and if Ron and I were sometimes on the retrieving end of their crueller pranks, it was all made up for by hours of struggling to breathe from laughing so much after watching the twins pelting any muggles who happened to wander near the house with an assortment of mum's soft fruit.
I hated my eighth birthday. That was when Fred and George got their Hogwarts Letters. And as I ran after the train, tears blurring my eyes, I mourned the loss of the long days of our foursome, the Weasley quartet, youngest of the seven, united in laughter. The ones that would go out of their way to make me smile, and always managed to succeed had gone.
I expected the term times to be dreary and filled with boredom, but to my pleasant surprise they weren't. True the days were less eventful, and there was less chaos and fewer adrenaline filled afternoons of daring and misbehaviour, but it was a year of friendship and imagination. Ron and I would play for hours on end, inventing incredible stories and worlds, never tiring of each other's company. We would spend whole days in the orchard playing on our brooms and at night we would sneak into each others rooms to whisper secrets and giggle quietly way past our bedtimes. And we'd beg mum to read us the letters Hogwarts sent about Fred and George, they were always hilarious. Missing them brought us closer together.
That summer everyone was home. Bill was back from Egypt on his two month leave, Charlie had just finished Hogwarts and was at home for a few months until he could start his new job in Romania, and Percy, Fred and George were all back for the holiday, Percy having got the highest marks in his year in the end of year exams, and Fred and George having been the youngest beaters on any of the house quidditch teams. I didn't think that summer would end, it was almost magical, Fred and George were even getting on with Percy. The letters came. Percy got prefect, and Ron got his place. Still there was loads of summer left, and it was golden, and hot, and I had a wonderful birthday with everyone there, laughing and joking. Bill left for Egypt the following day, and a few days later Charlie left for Romania. To my ten year old self it felt like he was abandoning me for dragons. I didn't forgive him for about six months.
Then it was September the first, we went to platform 9 and ¾. Ron didn't take any notice of me, he was too excited about leaving. Fred and George didn't either, they were blathering about seeing Harry Potter. I asked mum if I could go on the train to see him, but I was really planning on hiding and stowing away to Hogwarts with Ron. She wouldn't let me though. And as the train started to pull out of the station I ran after it, watching my brothers faces get further away, and indistinct through my tears and it felt like my heart was breaking, as for the seventh time I watched one of the people I loved the most leave. But this time it wasn't the same, this time I didn't have Ron to comfort me. The brother I trusted most had gone. I've never felt so lonely as when I stood at the very end of that platform watching my best friend and the brother I trusted the most be borne out of sight.
Last year was dull, dreary, lonely and sad. Mum tried to cheer me up and we spent lots of time together, but it wasn't the same. I routinely broke into the broomshed and flew as far from the house as I dared, scaring mum half to death. I lived for the holidays, and spent all my time practising tricks to show to the twins, exploring to find things to show to Ron. And finally, finally the summer came, and with it, the return of my brothers. But I'm not Ron's best friend any longer, Harry Potter is, and I have spent this summer listening with amazement to his stories of Hogwarts and Harry, but without the tinge of resentment that usually accompanies tales of school, because I know I'll soon be a part of them.
Today has been the best of my life. Harry Potter was there at breakfast. Ron, Fred and George flew dad's car to get him last night. They didn't ask me to come, even though I was the one who told them about it, but that's ok, I don't need to follow them anymore, this year has taught me to lead myself. I'm my own best friend now. Except for some reason, seeing Harry, the only place I lead myself was my room. I haven't quite worked out why yet. Dad brought my letter up too. I didn't know what it would mean to me, but after reading it, and savouring every word, I've realised. It stands for freedom, for opportunity but mostly for companionship.
After a decade of waiting, and watching, I will never again wave goodbye to a train, wishing I were on it. Now I will be on that train, and my life's passage will be marked by my terms, on my triumphs. I will be there, following Bill and Percy, with Ron, Fred, George, Percy and Harry. My life will finally have begun.
A/N: Well that's a lot longer than I thought it would be!I can't believe I did it all in one afternoon, that's probably why it's a little rambling. Let me know what you think and sorry for the wait. I'm revising for my A-levels at the mo, so it'll probably be another month or so before a new chapter appears.