AN: ok so this is just a story all of one shots centered around Ginny, it'll probably end up sort of like a story with all the pieces coming together randomly. It will be from all different point of views but every few chapters or so will be from Ginny's direct point of view. So here is the first chapter in Ginny's point of view. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Left At the Beginning

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It was all very clear to me suddenly; the reason that we all live and die and I knew that somehow I had a purpose standing there in the kitchen of my childhood home watching my mother douse her sorrows in tea laced with firewhiskey, a surefire cure. I suddenly knew the meaning of life and why we're constantly searching for all the things we ever wanted or needed but never got no matter how hard we tried. I knew why love was so important to some and money to others. I knew about sex and boys and sins and other deadly things that I dare not mention. Standing there in my kitchen I knew everything about the world, which knew nothing of me, but as soon as I moved it was all gone and I couldn't remember why I was living or if there was even a God. I had never been very religious, and I didn't know what to believe. I could only pray that there was one as my mum had always taught me and hope to the high heavens that he could somehow stop our mortal mischief or maybe change the flow of time, speed it up so things were over, or go back a bit to when this whole mess started.

Everything always starts somewhere. For me it started long before I was ever born, maybe even before my parents were born. For me everything started at the beginning of time because every event in the past is somehow connected to an event in the future and we're all just events causing chain reactions all over the place. Sometimes we're lucky and sometimes we aren't but we're all affected some way or another. Maybe more directly it starts with a boy named Tom Riddle who was very misguided his whole life and how exactly he came to be the person he is today if he really is human, no one can ever really know or correctly guess, but Tom Riddle is where it begins I think. Enough about Tom Riddle though because this isn't about him, this is about what happened to him, what happened to us all and where we all end up and how we got there, isn't that life? What is life? I think I knew the meaning once, maybe even a moment ago but it's a tricky thing that just slipped away. I was lucky once, blessed with my entire family, but Tom Riddle wasn't so lucky, he was lonely more than anything else. Some people think that nastiness is a terrible thing, but at least when someone is nasty to you, you feel it, and you know what they think and they acknowledge you. The worst thing in the world, the most dreadful disease of all, I'm afraid to say is neglect because with neglect sometimes people just fade away. With neglect you feel it hard and the worst part of it all is that it is unintentional and very hard to fix. And its ridiculous that all of these people around us need other people to make them happy, need to feel loved and need to have attention, but I guess that's life and we crave each other and there is no helping. Maybe it's some sick joke that God is just messing with out heads making us think that we need other people but then giving everyone there own secret agenda in life, a certain drive that leads them to neglect and ignore others the way we've all been ignored before, the way that we've all ignored before. If that is so, then I don't think I can believe in God, or at least the God that I was raised to believe in, the one with benevolence and not spite. And if we are all made in the image of God, then God must be entirely flawed because we're all flawed in some way or another. And why does the world seem to be crashing down and how did it get to be that way? I guess I'll never really know, I could never really find out, but it all began somewhere for me. I guess I still have to believe, because we all have to believe in something or else we wouldn't bother in getting up in the morning. Even my mother who has had so much taken from her still gets up, still inspires me. I have a lot of things to hope for I guess.

I've come to learn that sometimes the things that push us along are bigger than the things that hold us back. I have to hope that those things will just keep pushing me forward, past war, past death, past depression, back to happier times when we could have time to be a family and when I could worry about money or love or normal things and not have to worry about if my mother was eating or if I'd die the next day still a virgin. Time, for instance keeps pushing us along, and it was something I could never get a hold of no matter how hard I tried. It just never stopped and continually forced me to move forward even when other things held me back, death, possession, unrequited love, betrayal, murder. But life just kept going and I kept getting older. Maybe I wasn't so innocent anymore. I'm not now I think, or maybe I am compared to everyone else? More time brought more experiences, some good, some bad, but most of the time I wished for life to slow down, or even for time to stop. I wish now, that time would just go how I like it, just go nice and fast so I can breeze on by and before I even think about anything at all, all of this will be over. Nowadays I spend too much time thinking.

My childhood existence was sunshine and butterflies compared to everyone else in my family. I grew into peace and was therefore allowed to wreak my own form of havoc but for everyone else, it was war, for everyone else it was a little bit crazy. For Bill, so much older than me, it was the first war, the same with Charlie and Percy, they could still remember it because its how they grew and how they lived for a while. They grew in war and lived in peace, I grew in peace and lived in war. Fred and George can't really recollect the war from their early lives but they never really had anything. Dad was young and excited but his work was tainted by the war that wasn't coming to a close anytime soon and he had a hard time making ends meat. My mum would fret over the state of all of her children, they weren't allowed outside all that much towards the end, that's probably why Percy never played Quidditch like the rest of us. Even when the war was over we were dreadfully poor and money was being spent on baby diapers for me and sick bills for everyone else and dad was at work at all hours being paid so little to help clean everything up after the war. Ron too was born into the war but it was over a year later when I was born, a year later when the boy who lived, Harry Potter vanquished the darkest wizard of our time, vanquished that poor neglected boy, Tom Riddle. Ron suffered a different kind of struggle than the rest, he grew into peace too, but he was neglected. We loved him so much, but Bill and Charlie were off being Quidditch stars and Head Boys and Percy was getting along in his studies. Fred and George had each other and were brilliant in their own way, and I unintentionally hogged the attention of everyone, because I was the first girl in the Weasley family for seven generations, and I was incurably cute if I do say so myself.

They all left though, because war does that sometimes, it can't be helped. We're still a family, but I'm here at home while they are all out living their lives. I'm just stuck at war waiting for something to happen. Maybe I'm waiting for peace? I think I'm waiting for love but I don't really know. I never did know. What do we ever know our whole lives? One second I think I know everything but the next second what I thought I knew turns out to be nothing at all. I don't know if there's a god, or why we keep on living or why we need each other, but I guess we're all human. I'm just left at the beginning because everything has to start somewhere.