"Ginny come in."
Ginny opened the door with her stomach flipping in circles. Her gift had to be a broom. Her Mum's room was brightly lit with the brown curtains tied to the side. Her bed perfectly made with white pillows fluffed against the cherry wood headboard. A red and gold quilt lay perfectly folded at the foot of the bed. It was the one room in the house that didn't look like seven people constantly ran through.
"Come in sweetie. Here, sit down with me." Her Mum rocked in her favorite chair. It was a gift from her brothers when she was pregnant with Bill. Seven carved names glowed in the wood of the seven spindles behind Mum's back. As a girl, Ginny use to hide in this room tracing the names of her brothers when she missed them at Hogwarts. Ginny sat at her Mum's feet looking around for anything the size and shape of a broom.
"I know we underestimate you. And I know you want to be able to always keep up with your brothers."
"Yes."
"Well, sometimes it's not about keeping up but being true to yourself and your passions. And I know you are a very passionate Weasley." Her Mum chuckled and then sighed.
"And even though it may be hard and scary sometimes, I want you to push yourself even if you are afraid." She continued.
"Okay, Mum. I can promise to be brave."
"Bravery takes many forms. Sometimes it is about facing what we fear the most to do what we love." Her Mum sighed deeply before continuing. Her eyes blinked in rapid succession as her right hand fidgeted twirling her wedding ring. "Which is why I got you this."
Molly dug into a small red bag and pulled out a crimson wrapped box. Ginny's heart sank. It was too small to be a broom. She tried to force a smile as her Mum looked so happy and proud of her choice. Ginny unwrapped the box opening it. Inside was a small Gryffindor red leather bound book. Her name, Ginevra Molly Weasley, was embossed in calligraphed gold letter shimmering in the soft light. A golden lion moved, roaring on the cover before bearing its claws as it stood on two feet.
Ginny opened the book and flipped through the thick parchment pages. It was blank. Her heart pounded looking at the blank diary. She could feel the weight of the book and knew it must have been very expensive. It was embossed with her name, was this created today? When did her Mum arrange this? She looked up at her Mum unable to hide her disgust. She fought the urge to throw the book across the room. Her skin crawled when she touched the leather bound cover as bile rose in the back of her throat.
"Wh-what is this?"
"It's a new journal so you can collect your thoughts."
"A journal? Why?"
"For you to write in." Molly's nerves caught up with her. She wrung her hands harder as she spoke.
"No," Ginny whispered. A seething anger rose from her stomach and made her skin crawl. She wanted to yell, to scream, to throw something. How could she! Why is she forcing this with such vigor?
"What?"
"No," Ginny said more forcefully. Her patience couldn't contain her anger. Her face contorted with the rage pushing its way out of her body. She could feel the hatred radiating off of her skin.
"Why?"
Ginny threw the diary onto the floor and stalked out of the room. She didn't look back to see her Mum's reaction. She didn't look back to see if her Mum was crying or was angry at her lack of gratitude. She didn't care. All she wanted was to put as much distance between herself and the book as humanly possible.
Sprinting out of the room Ginny hooked left at the hall and darted into her room. She locked her door pacing the floor. Why? Why? Why?
Why would her Mum buy that bloody book? Why is she asking all these questions about her writing? What does she want from her? Why is she pushing her? Why can't she leave her alone?
Ginny flung herself dramatically on her bed. She laid her head on her pillow and stared at her ceiling. A crack journeyed from a wet spot in the corner to her closet. There was something soothing about following the line of the crack from its origin to where it ended. She closed one eye and lifted her hand tracing the crack with her forefinger.
Her heart returned to a normal rhythm. There was nothing she should be angry about. It didn't make sense how one small book could make her so livid. She sighed and rolled over facing her wall. Why was she like this all a sudden? Why was she so angry? She never used to be angry. She loved her Mum. She didn't like who she was when she gave into the anger and yelled. The anger made her feel dirty and sullied like Tom changed who she was as a person. Like he tainted her soul all the way down to the building blocks of her being.
Ginny stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, she heard her Mum calling the family for supper. Ginny stayed locked away ignoring the urge to eat. A soft knock rapped on her door.
"Go away!" The angry words left before she had a chance to soften them.
"Ginny, you need to come eat with the family." Her father's calm voice commanded. He twisted the locked door opening it with ease. He popped his face in wearing his typical smile but his eyes gave away his true feelings. Wrinkled between the brow wore a worried expression, he appeared ten years older. Ginny sensed the forced cheer he tried infusing into the room and as guilt over her behavior rose. She should join her family for dinner. Her Mum must be upset if she sent her Dad to retrieve her to eat.
"Please." It was less of a plea and more of a command. She was pushing her father too far. This was his way of giving her another chance to rectify the tension with her Mum. She had a choice. She could give into the anger and resentment and keep lying in her room. She could say something hurtful and wield the power of her words as weapons hitting her father.
Or she could swallow her pride. She could do something small to start moving past these feelings. She could be the bigger person and reach out to her family. Yes, she was frustrated. She was frustrated no one talked, that her Mum pushed, that she spent the summer suffocating.
She slowly rose and walked to the door. She could do this. She could be the good girl she knew she was deep down. She could make her Dad proud. She was at the door reaching out for the handle. She closed the door. Her father sighed behind the wooden door as footsteps echoed away through the hall.
It was too much. Seeing everyone. The expectations that everything goes back to normal because they want normalcy. It's not normal. It's not fair to ask her to be normal. To be the good girl she once was. She felt her innocence draining away. Tom stole so much from her. He stole her first year, education, belief in herself. She was a husk of her previous self. The urge to run came back. There was no way to sneak out of the house now.
Unless there was.
Could she? She walked over to her window and pulled the curtains back tying them to the hooks. Warm summer sun beams glimmered through the panes of glass beckoning her to come outside. She opened the window and looked down. She was on the second floor. But the roof for the doorway was right below her. If she climbed onto the rooftop she could shimmy down the banister and be outside. Her family, distracted with dinner, would never see her escape.
Opening the window a fresh breeze blew through her hair. The warm air smelling of honeysuckle and fresh grass caressed her face. Her heart pounded with anticipation. She could feel her freedom outside the window. The sun called her, begging her to come bask in the fading day. Her legs itched to run until they threatened to fall off.
Sitting on her window ledge she lowered her feet outside. She felt weightless with a gap between her feet and the roof. It would be so easy to give into the weightlessness. To fall down.
Closing her eyes she pushed herself off the ledge. Her back scraped against the window sill as she fell hard onto the roof below. The breeze threatened to push her off as she straddled the small pointed roof between her legs. She bent forward hugging the shingles to regain her balance. The hot tar smelled sour after spending the day baking in the sun.
She had to decide if she was doing this. How would her parents react if they came back to pull her down to dinner and she was gone?
It's too late now Ginny decided. Closing her eyes she swung her right side over to her left. She landed at a crooked angle feeling her weight pulling her down the roof. She rolled and her hands threatened to lose their grip. She grasped at the shingles. Her fingernails bend backward as she lost her grip. She was falling. Her body's momentum carried her over the edge. She grabbed for the gutter. She missed. She launched over the edge. She plunged towards the ground.
A scream rang out from the garden. Ginny's body weightlessly lifted and glided like a feather. Her Mum sprang beside her side and shook her shoulders.
"What in Merlin's name were you thinking? Magic can't fix a broken neck, you daft girl!" Her Mum's voiced reached howler level. Every word increased pitch and cadence until her face turned as bright red as her hair.
Her brothers and Dad sprinted out of the house. They saw Molly shaking an unresponsive Ginny. They saw Molly's face turning pumice red as they rushed over to separate the two. Tears sprang down Ginny's face as she grabbed for her Mum and buried herself deep into her soft chest.
Safe, warm, and loved, Ginny felt something inside her break. She stopped trying to be the good girl, stopped trying to hold it all in and pretend she was okay. She gasped and sobbed into her Mum's shoulder. She cried harder than she had since leaving the chamber. She sobbed for scaring her Mom. She sobbed for yelling at her parents. She sobbed for throwing the diary and not answering her questions about writing.
She sobbed for her lost year and lost innocence. She sobbed for having so much stolen from her and not being able to get back to who she knew she could be. Her body wracked and her eyes stung. Snot poured out of her nose unconstrained onto her Mum's shoulder. Her Mum's held her close and rocked her back and forth as if she were a small babe instead of her teenage daughter. She took her head in her hands and looked her in the eyes and smiled.
"Oh, Ginny. What will we do with you?" Her Mum chuckled. Soon she was laughing. Ginny looked confused at her Mum's previous enraged face now covered in tears and mirth. New tears from laughing sprung to her Mum's eyes as her body shook in elation. They rocked laughing and crying together as the men encircled. They were completely confused by what had transpired.
"So? Is Ginny okay?" Ron asked looking bewildered from brother to brother. Fred and George shrugged at him, Percy rolled his eyes and walked back inside. Her father smiled and sat in the grass next to his wife and daughter holding them both. He held them as if letting go meant they would fall into the earth. He bent over and kissed Molly's head as she relaxed back into his sturdy frame. Ginny stayed curled into her Mum's arms as the three of them sat in the grass. Her brothers went back inside but they stayed on the grass. Watching they sky as the sun faded into brilliant crimsons and coral colors. Their laughter faded into the dusk as day transitioned into the night.
"Well, tomorrow is a new day. We wanted to tell you at dinner, but we need you to pack your things tomorrow." Her father rose from her space on the grass and cracked his back. He extended his hand to her Mum who accepted it stumbling to her feet. Ginny allowed her body to fall to the ground spraying out onto the grass as fireflies danced around her head.
"Where are we going?"
"Egypt. We are going to Egypt to see your brother. So it's a good thing you didn't run away." Her father added in cheekily at the end winking at her.
Bill! She was going to be able to see Bill! Her heart lifted as she followed her parents into the house. Her stomach growled newly hungry as she sat down between her parents. Devouring the food her soul warmed with every bite. She was going to see her big brother. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home.
