Nothing belongs to me.
XXXI: City
There were many reasons why she loved the city. It had been new and scary, but all the same exciting. Also, it was the last place anyone would think to find her. This way, no one would have to know what she'd done.
Living in Muggle London, however, was no easy feat. She struggled the first nine months, and despite having taken Muggle Studies in school, there were still loads to learn.
She had found humble work as a waitress. Her employer was a kind man, and her coworkers, the same. They could all tell that she wasn't from around there, but they took her under their wing nonetheless.
Ginny had long since quit the job, but she still visited the old diner occasionally.
She now worked as a secretary in a respectable office building, and for extra money, she walked dogs on weekends. She lived comfortably in a small flat, undisturbed by the Wizarding world.
It had been almost six years since she had touched her wand, yet she kept it, safe in a box hidden in her sock drawer. She hadn't forgotten a single thing either, sometimes whispering spell incantations in her sleep.
Ginny liked to think she lived a quite ordinary life.
But after today, she wouldn't be so sure.
The morning had been perfectly normal. She had woken up, walked the dogs, cooked breakfast, and was just cleaning up when there was a knock on the door. Ginny finished drying the last plate and walked past the children's program on the television. She opened the front door.
Standing before her were five of the very last people she had expected.
"Ginny."
"Bill? Charlie? Percy? George? Ron?"
She gazed at each one of her brothers, fear settling in her stomach with every passing second.
Behind her, a sixth voice rang out, but unlike the others, it belonged to a child.
"Mummy? Who are you talking to?"
A small boy shuffled into view, no older than five years old.
Her brothers looked shocked, staring in disbelief at her son who (they had been quick to notice) was the spitting image of one Draco Malfoy.