the firecracker.

GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY 16. gryffindor. DA member. ‘You’re too –’ Harry began, but Ginny said fiercely, ‘I’m three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher’s Stone, and it’s because of me that Malfoy’s stuck back in Umbridge’s office with giant flying bogies attacking him –’

[gingevra-blog]

Witching Hour ;; Harry & Ginny                 [June 18th, 1998]

[fromthecupboard-blog]

It was like something inside her snapped and Harry could see it clearly. Ginny’s gaze was defiant and hardened – it reminded him of when he refused to tell the others she should stay for the battle back in the Room of Requirement. She’d looked at him then the way she was looking at him now. Clenching his jaw tightly, he told himself that her words wouldn’t affect him – but nothing could have prepared himself for what she said.

That wasn’t fair. Harry didn’t even remembering dying. Their life might have consisted of going back in time to save him, but Harry’s reality was only getting taken away from the battle. Being forced to leave all those people he cared about there to die for him. It wasn’t until she spoke the words aloud that he realized how utterly angry he was by it. He didn’t get a say in his own life – again! The prophecy, Voldemort, being chosen for this task, and now his own death.

“You don’t get to say that, Ginny!” he said, the dam breaking and his voice finally raising to a shout. It wasn’t as loud as it could have been and he wasn’t about to start flipping tables, but Harry’s heart was racing and his neck was tense and all he wanted to do was prove her wrong. “No one asked me if this was what I wanted! I’m doing everything I can to get us somewhere – but I was never left with a plan! Figure it out, Harry! What do we do next, Harry?”

He sat on the edge of the seat now, glaring at her, no longer caring if anyone else heard what he said. “Well, you know what? I was never told what needed to be done. We have to kill the snake and we have no idea where it is! Don’t you dare tell me I’m acting like a child when all I’ve ever done was try to find a way to kill him!”

How could she call him a child? Harry had never gotten to be a child. He thought of the cupboard under the stairs and finally lowered his voice, a dangerous sort of purr that reminded him sickly of Voldemort. “Don’t talk about things you obviously don’t understand.”

[gingevra-blog]

She regretted her words the moment they fell from her lips but made no attempt to retract her accusations. Ginny had never been big on admitting her failures. So rather than interrupted him, apologising or doing anything even remotely proactive, Ginny just sat there and let him shout at her. Maybe his anger could be her punishment, Ginny thought about how appropriate that was as the increase in volume of his voice caused a familiar itch of irritation grow in her mind. She did not speak, and instead soaked up his anger; the slowly reddening shade of his face, the venom in his voice and the way his eyes looked to have turned black (although the more logical part of Ginny’s mind told her that was most likely down to poor lighting than anything else). She deserved it. And when he was done Ginny simply shifted in the seat, turning her attention away from him and back to the window she’d been so fixated on when Harry first entered the room. She did, at the very least, manage to roll her eyes at him before turning away. Not even Merlin himself could stop her doing that.

If she were being honest with herself, having Harry shout at her hurt more than she thought it would. Ginny was the type of person who cared little for the opinions of others, so had never really listened when they voiced them in a less than courteous way, if it’d been anyone else who’d shouted at her in that manner she’d likely throw a curse or two before stomping off but this was Harry. Harry who she loved. Harry who she’d literally defied the laws of time to save … Harry who was looking at her now like she was something to be reviled. Ginny had taken one glance at the reflection he cast in the window before the pain of seeing his anger stabbed at her heart and she was forced to go back to looking at the distant landscape of the farm. The longer she sat in silence the harder she struggled against the desire to scream at him and Ginny kept having to remind herself that just a few seconds before she’d decided his anger was to be her punishment for being so horrible. The problem was, Ginny was too hot-headed, too impulsive, and she quickly realised that the battle to keep silent was lost the moment she started thinking of witty retorts to throw at him.

“I’ll say what I damn well please, Harry. And don’t think—” She fell silent. Whatever Ginny was about to say forgotten in a second, along with the anger that gnawed at her inside. It’d been replaced with … what? Shock? Fear? Confusion? She wasn’t sure, all she could really be sure of was that she’d seen something moving near the woods outside the window. Ginny stood up from the sofa and moved across the room until she was so close to the window that she could feel the cold of the glass against the skin on her forehead. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered outside. It was pointless though, whatever she’d seen was gone. She turned to Harry, panic written all over her face.

              “Something is out there.” She told him, so afraid she                didn’t even care about the     shakiness of her voice.

[polisytics-deactivated20180202]

Muggleborns. She assumed that she’d have to get used to the word – not the slur, though she had never seen why it was considered as such, and didn’t quite care to – eventually. She can’t quite help the roll of her eyes that seems so much a reflex, or the breath that escapes her lungs in the slightest scoff. All these Gryffindors are far too noble. 

               "How should I know who you associated with?”

It wasn’t as if Pansy bothered to cast a second glance at the Gryffindors who’d hung around those she’d actually taken notice of in school. There were some who’d become temporary residents of the farmhouse that, quite frankly, she’s certain she never would have, if something as monumental as Rita Skeeter writing about them had never occurred. And of course she’s thinking about Hermione in particular. 

               “Most likely, though. Death Eaters have the run of Azkaban, it only makes sense that they’d use it to control the number of – muggleborns. They had an entire list of them, after all.”

[gingevra-blog]

She did not reply at first and filled the silence by playing with the various office supplies that littered the large desk in the corner of the study-turned-bedroom. Ginny didn’t know how to have a normal conversation with Pansy, they’d shared a room for several weeks now and only bothered to communicate when they were insulting each other --Ginny wouldn’t have bothered at all had she not been asked to keep an eye on the Slytherin girl--, so for the two to be sitting together, discussing the details of an Azkaban breakout, felt entirely foreign to the Weasley girl. Ginny disliked the idea of Pansy seeing her discomfort though, so put a lot of effort into the pretense of sorting the various desk items until the quills and inkwells looks vaguely neat. Only when the silence felt awkward and out of place did Ginny turn to interact with her room mate.

“Control the numbers? Like they’re animals and not human beings. It makes me sick to think about them living in those awful conditions. Even the criminals who were kept there before the war deserved better.” She said, concern lacing her tone. Ginny thought of Sirius, whose every action was motivated by the memory of his time in Azkaban. Then of the dementors that plagued her second year at Hogwarts, their presence alone was enough to rip every happy thought from Ginny’s memory and replace it with pain and sadness. Azkaban simply wasn’t fit for housing humans.

[weasleyways-blog]

✖ | Requested by Ginny (@gingevra)

If your heart wears thin, I will hold you up And I will hide you when it gets too much. I’ll be right beside you, Nobody will break you.

– Beside You, Marianas Trench

He doesn’t always show it, but Ron is highly overprotective of his sister. Of course, it’s mostly been forced upon him by his mother ever since they were young, Molly Weasley would personally murder her sons if they let anything happen to her only daughter. But ever since the incident with Tom Riddle’s diary, it has only become clearer to Ron how much he cares about Ginny and would do anything to keep her safe. He knows she doesn’t want to hear it, so he never really tells her, but he would die for her.

When Harry and Ginny started dating, things were complicated at first – having to prioritize his sister over his best friend isn’t a situation he wants to find himself in ever again, but no matter what the trio has gone through, his family will come first. So, yes, if Harry ever were to break Ginny’s heart or put her in any danger, he would not let him live it down. And the same goes for anyone who dares to touch his sister.

[gingevra-blog]

☾  SLEEP HEADCANON (requested by @dadraco)

Ginny's not had a decent night sleep since she was eleven years old. As a child --when the memory of Tom Riddle, the Chamber and her own manipulation were still fresh in her memories--, she would wake up from a nightmare on an almost-nightly basis. Her screams were not conducive to a happy household and, more importantly, the constant disruption of sleep had an adverse affect on Ginny's well-being. When Ginny returned to Hogwarts for her second year, the nightmares stopped almost instantly. It took a few weeks, but eventually she figured out that working hard in class had exhausted her to the point that by the time she went to bed she was too tired to dream. This was the beginning of a terrible habit that would last a lifetime. To stave off the nightmares, Ginny will fill her day with as many activities as possible, the more physically exerting the better, and finally go to bed when she's so tired she can barely keep her eyes open. It works, but it means she’s almost always fighting against the weariness that occurs when a person lives on roughly five hours sleep a night.

[weasleyways-blog]

Ron preferred to pretend that Azkaban didn’t exist. He didn’t want to think about all those people, good people, who had to be in a place created for only the nastiest criminals in the world. That place had to be hell, to anyone, really. Being stuck in a farmhouse with a bunch of Slytherins up his ass was bad enough. Personally, he had mostly been relieved to hear his brother’s voice on the radio, knowing he was alive and well. The part about the muggleborns made his blood boil, but at least they got out, so he could care less about how or why they had ended up in there. He was focused on the good news, something his sister should be doing as well.

“It doesn’t matter, Gin. They got out.” He sighed. “There are bound to be people we know, even if it’s just their faces. During all our years at Hogwarts, who knows how many muggleborns we have encountered. But there’s someone helping them, they’re going to be fine.”

[gingevra-blog]

Who knows how many muggleborns we encountered? She didn’t want to think about the numbers, just hearing him pose the question made that sickening feeling rise in her throat. Ginny tried her damnedest not to show just how uncomfortable the entire situation made her and, for some bizarre reason she could not fathom, this effort to hide any negative emotions resulted in her making snarky comments that had no real place in a serious conversation.

                           “Are you trying to be tactful? It doesn’t suit you.”

Ginny forced her eyes shut and turned away from her brother to silently scowled her own lack of tact. After a ten second long silence, she spoke again. “The thing is, I’m not so sure being out here is that much better than being in there --I mean, it’s obviously better but not by much. You heard what George said, it isn’t safe for them to return home, and the country is such a shit hole right now that I’m worried they’ve escaped one hell and ran straight into another.”

[gingevra-blog]

♒  COOKING/FOOD HEADCANON (requested by @dadraco)

She's a grazer, the type of person who will never finish a meal in one sitting but pick and pick as the day progresses. As the daughter of Molly Weasley, Ginny has never had to worry about food. There was always something on the table at The Burrow, regardless of how much money was in Mr and Mrs Weasley's pockets, and so Ginny never had to know the pain of going without. At least not until the Battle, after they escaped Hogwarts the survivors were low on food and this had a real impact on Ginny. She's slowly starting to adjust to the shortage of food and is thankful that, at least while at the farmhouse, things aren't too dire.

[gingevra-blog]

The Hardest Word ;; Hannah &           Ginny [ 12th June, 1998 ]

[detectivecrawley-blog]

The small room had never been a very comfortable place, but now, with Ginny’s scrutinzing stare focused intently on Hannah, the blonde never hated it so much. It felt very…full, although it was nearly bare. Full of what? Tension, pressure, anxiety – all the emotions Hannah was poorly equipped to handle. Her hands hesistently came up to fuss with her hair; at first, she only twisted at the ends, but then she busied herself with tying it up into a bun. The first wasn’t good enough, neither was the second, nor the third. This was such a common habit of Hannah’s, that the elastic was nearly worn to its core.

“You weren’t being that,” she spat out, probably too quickly. “I mean…You were just…You were upset. I shouldn’t have pried and – ” Hannah cut herself off as she realized that she was, again, trying to take the blame for a situation that held no one at fault. She took the pause to attempt another bun, but it was much too loose. She gave up and left the elastic around her wrist. “Being mad about things like that is a waste of energy,” she finally added, and said nothing more on that.

This house was full of several strong personalities. From Ginny to Hermione to even Draco, almost everyone here had their own opinion to share and grudges to hold. Hannah was wary that over time, this would cause problems. Disagreements could turn into battles just with the wrong words from the wrong peson. Holding a small snap over the rehead wouldn’t be a good idea, not if her suspicions ever came true. That’s why she accepted the apology – that’s what she thought, anyway. Another part of her believed it was simply in her Hufflepuff nature and in an attempt to be nothing like her father.

[gingevra-blog]

Ginny made her way around the room before coming to a stop in front of one of the counters, she twisted around and awkwardly pulling herself atop the stone worktop before crossing her legs and turning her attention back to Hannah. It wasn’t just that she was sick of standing, in truth Ginny needed to busy herself with a task so as to not roll her eyes at Hannah’s response –of course, the older girl had instantly blamed herself, which was exactly what Ginny had told Hannah not to do. It wasn’t that Ginny had no respect for Hannah’s ideals, in fact she believed it was very noble to run around believing that anger was pointless, it just wasn’t realistic. With pressure mounting, Ginny thoroughly believed the day was coming when Hannah would explode from the stress of it all. Which was such a stark contrast from Ginny, who had been angry for weeks. Any emotion, be it sadness or confusion or sheer stress went through some bizarre filtering process and by the time she was ready to speak about her problems, all Ginny could do was shout.

Thankfully, that anger had dissipated somewhat in the last week or so, which was likely the reason Ginny was able to respond to Hannah without adding a horribly sarcastic comment. “You’re a mystery. If it were the other way around, and you’d shouted at me for no real reason, I would have ignored you for about a month. How can you be so cool about it?” And then, for no reason she could make sense of, Ginny added. “How can you be so cool about all of this? We’re in hell right now and I’ve yet to see you show the slightest of negative emotions.”

It was odd, normally in situations like these Ginny would have shouted at Hannah or maybe thrown a couple of insults before laughing and leaving the room but the Hufflepuff girl had a strangely calming energy which Ginny happily gave herself into. A small voice in her head commented sarcastically on this energy, stating that she probably wouldn’t feel so comfortable around Hannah had Hannah been the type of person to get pissy over the little things, but Ginny ignored the voice and kept her attention fixed on the conversation.

[gingevra-blog]

       “ I didn't realise they were holding muggleborns at Azkaban          You don't think anyone we know was there,           do you?”

How had she not figured it out earlier? Of course they were housing their prisoners of war in a place worse than hell. She felt foolish for not realising the truth earlier. Even more than that, she felt sick at the thought of all those innocent people rotting inside the cells of Azkaban prison.

[gingevra-blog]

Witching Hour ;; Harry & Ginny                 [June 18th, 1998]

[fromthecupboard-blog]

Ginny had always been good at pushing back against him. Not in the way Hermione did – all shrill self-righetous words and blanent you-know-better-than-this looks – but like a solid force that knew exactly what to do to have Harry drop an issue. She’d done it when he thought he’d been posessed and again with his potions book, as well as countless other times during the time they dated. Harry didn’t bring up Luna or Pansy again. Ginny was right, after all – Luna had never really care about what people thought of her or even if they teased her – but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes and shifting on the chair so he was pointedly looking away from her.

They stayed in silence for several minutes. Harry fought the urge to glance over at her many times, though his instinct was to watch her and soak everything in. When they were dating, Harry had trouble taking his eyes off her – always in surprise that he’d landed a girl like her. He’d been convinced she would get taken from him somehow (probably to find someone better) and he’d been adament about remembering every single moment with her before that happened. In the end, she was taken from him. Harry had pushed her away – forced what he knew would most likely happen before it could get any worse. Ginny could get hurt or even killed because of him and he wasn’t about to have her on his list of nightmares.

He thought that maybe they could last the next few hours of this watch in silence and then he’d be free from her just as Ginny spoke. Her voice was bitter, harsh, and Harry closed his eyes briefly before her words even hit him. Because when Ginny spoke like that, it was never something Harry wanted to hear. He opened them and finally looked at her, anger boiling inside him with every word. It may have not been exactly what he wanted, but it was something that had to be done. If Harry hadn’t pushed Ginny away, she would’ve been taken from him anyway. Why didn’t she understand that?

“The thing is,” he began, unable to keep the anger out of his voice as it shook slightly, threatening to raise. “You don’t tip-toe around me. Every where I turn, it’s like you’re right there. I meant what I said before Ginny. You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to come with. No one was! It was supposed to be me, Ron, and Hermione. That’s all. That’s who Dumbledore left me with.”

[gingevra-blog]

He was wrong. She’d spent the last month avoiding him, not because she didn’t want to be around him rather because she knew he needed his space, so for him to accuse her of being ‘everywhere he turned’ was downright ridiculous. She would have laughed if she weren’t so pissed at him. Ginny had been peeved before, she’d been exasperated but not angry. Now, she was angry, the emotion overwhelmed her body and suddenly he transformed into this self-pitying idiot who needed a serious reality check. It had taken him less than a sentence to change the atmosphere between them from awkward to aggressive and if he thought for one moment that she was going to let him beat her down then he was sorely mistaken. 

Ginny let out an exasperated breath, she couldn’t believe what he was saying. How dare he act like this was all her fault! It wasn’t her fault that half of Dumbledore’s Army had been dragged along when they escaped Hogwarts and it certainly wasn’t her fault they’d ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere with no real hope of contributing anything of worth to the rebellion. As far as Ginny could tell, her brain fuzzy with anger, the only person in this entire house who was at fault was Harry. Not Harry-Harry, the one that sat with her in the darkened sitting room of a centuries old farmhouse, but the Harry who’d gone and got himself killed back at the Battle. If that Harry hadn’t walked into the forest, none of this would have happened. She didn’t blame him though and she certainly wasn’t upset at him for starting the chain reaction that would end with her sitting in a shabby old sofa in the Abbott family’s farmhouse. Ginny would do anything to keep Harry safe and did not regret her decision to go back in time. He was alive and deep down --very, very deep down-- Ginny knew that was all that mattered.

Still, she would not let him put the blame on her. The anger bubbled inside her, clouding her judgement and instantly erasing any desire for him she’d previously held onto. The only desire she had now was to put him in his place and maybe that was why she said it, not to hurt him (she’d never intentionally hurt him) but because she had seen red and it no longer mattered how much she loved him or how much her words might hurt, nothing would get in the way of her getting her point across. “Yes well, you weren’t supposed to die but you did!” said Ginny, angrily. “Life has a funny way of screwing us over and instead of facing up to your problems you’v’e chosen to mope about like a child.”

[gingevra-blog]

Witching Hour ;; Harry & Ginny                 [June 18th, 1998]

[fromthecupboard-blog]

Harry woke up to his pillow violently shaking and he rolled over and groaned quietly, unsure of whether Dean or Draco were in the room. He’d actually fallen asleep a bit earlier – something he tried to do intentionally, knowing he had the midnight watch. His pillow had been charmed to vibrant him awake so he wouldn’t wake the others, though they were likely not in their beds anyway. It was still early enough for the members of Dumbledore’s Army, who had trouble sleeping most nights. Harry usually had trouble with this himself, but he’d been so exhausted lately that he wasn’t surprised to find that he had fallen asleep tonight. Though it had only been about two hours, which was usually long enough for the nightmares to really take over.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Harry sleepily pushed his glasses onto his face and looked around. It was dark in the room – the night was rainy and cloudy and the moon wasn’t shining through the window – but it didn’t look like either of his roommates were in bed. Sharing a room with Malfoy, someone he’d always rivalled against, and Dean, one of Ginny’s other ex-boiyfriends, made it one of the most awkward rooms in the Farmhouse. He bearily made his way downstairs, thinking that maybe he’d make some coffee to get some more energy, when he saw her sitting where Luna should be and he was instantly awake.

She had more affect than any sort of caffeine could. Before he could open his mouth to ask why it was her on watch with him when it should have been Luna, Ginny spoke. Harry raised his eyebrows slightly in disbelief. While her story could have been true, there was little that could have made Luna abandon her post. She would’ve had to be very sick and Harry hadn’t heard anything. She had seemed find earlier. “I guess it’s alright,” he said shortly, sitting down next to Ginny. He chose the armchair further away from her, rather than the couch she was sitting on.

As his eyes scanned the dark grounds of the farm, Harry said, “You left her up there with Pansy, then.” It wasn’t really an accusation – it wasn’t Ginny’s fault that Pansy Parkinson picked on Luna – but Harry was annoyed with Ginny for being part of this watch. He’d been so careful to avoid her and this was two times within a week he’d have to be alone with her.

[gingevra-blog]

She’d hoped to see a glimmer of relief on his face, like coming downstairs and finding her in place of Luna might actually make him happy. Of course, he’d pretend to be annoyed, he’d act like he didn’t want her around but deep down a part of him would be doing back flips at the thought of spending an entire night in her company and it would show on his face. Well, if any piece of him was jumping around was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. He looked more shocked than anything else to see her and Ginny could not help being disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm. She tried to keep her disappointment hidden more out of embarrassment than anything else and watched him take a seat on the arm chair furthest from where she sat with a placid expression upon her freckled face. Why did he have to be so damned difficult?

“Oh please.” She scoffed. Pansy Parkinson was pretty damn low on Ginny’s list of concerns at that moment in time. “Pansy’s all bark and no bite, she’s not stupid enough to do something that’d piss me off. Besides, Luna’s not so easy to upset as people think.”

It was true. In all the years Ginny had known Luna there were only a handful of occasions when she’d had shown signs of sadness, none of those occasions featured a bullying, pug-faced Slytherin girl. Lying to Harry made her feel uncomfortable, Ginny hoped to skate passed the whole Luna-isn’t-feeling-well excuse and move straight onto more important issues. Like why he was so insistent on staying away from her. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him that though, in fact she couldn’t think of what to say at all. They’d been separated for such a long time that it was as if she’d forgotten how to act around him, which felt about as abnormal as forgetting how to ride a broomstick. After coming up blank when trying to find the words, Ginny ended up not speaking at all and turned back to watching the woods outside the Farmhouse. Staring into the darkness was a pretty poor distraction, she was so attuned to Harry that every sound he made –every breath, every cough, every time he shifted in the seat—set her on edge until eventually she could take the atmosphere no longer and spoke up against it.

“Are you planning to avoid me for the rest of your life or just until I get mad enough to hex you? Is this really how it’s going to be between us now?” Eventually, she turned from the window to look him in the eye. “I’m tired of tip-toeing around you.”

[grangerswot]

Lack of Libraries | June 11, 1998

[grangerswot]

Hermione frowned, ever the stickler for details and accuracy. “But I did drop-out,” she insisted. “I’m not saying it wasn’t for a good reason, and I’m not saying I wouldn’t do it again, because of course I would. But regardless of my motivation, the fact remains that I chose to leave school rather than completing my final year. It’s quite possible that–” Stop stopped as her brain processed the rest of Ginny’s words. “Well, all right, I expect there will be quite a bit of…of re-organizing when Hogwarts opens again.” If it opens again, she didn’t say. If it opens again without Voldemort in charge of it. “But I was thinking about the…the hypotheticals.”

She looked down and said in a smaller voice, “I know it’s silly, but sometimes when I get stuck going in circles on a problem that I can’t solve, I try and think about ‘normal’ life instead. About how I would solve those problems. As a sort of…distraction. A brain-refresher, if you will.” She swallowed, uncomfortable, but at least it was Ginny she was talking to; she never would have been able to be so willingly vulnerable in front of anyone else, but while there weren’t a lot of things she and Ginny really had in common they knew each other’s wishes and weaknesses very well.

[gingevra-blog]

It had been a long time since anything was what the girls would consider normal and to hear Hermione point that fact out filled Ginny with a strange sadness. She was homesick, she realised a moment later when the memory of the Gryffindor Common Room at dusk filled her head. The Weasley girl tried not to let this realization show and instead concentrated very hard on what Hermione was saying, at least if she was thinking about other people’s problems then she didn’t have to worry about her own. “I get that.” Ginny said. And she did, it was true that many of the things that left Hermione’s mouth left her feeling both stupid and bewildered but Ginny certainly understood the idea of a ‘brain-refresher’, she just wished there was more she could do to help Hermione out. “Well.” she said thoughtfully. “How would you solve that problem?”

Suddenly spurred on by her own question, Ginny sat up on the bed. “Seriously, say you do go back to finish your seventh year but McGonagall tells you ‘no’, how are you going to convince her she’d be an idiot not to take you back?” It was a silly question, Ginny wasn’t sure she cared about Hermione’s answer, but it was a nice distraction from the more serious problems they faced.

[dadraco-deactivated20170722]

Sleeping Sickness | June 14

[dadraco-deactivated20170722]

Draco stilled when a voice came from the kitchen. He didn’t jump up out of shock, to his credit, though he dearly felt like doing so. He put the mistake of assuming no one was around down to being groggy from sleep and not that he simply hadn’t checked carefully enough. Even if he hadn’t recognised the voice of the youngest Weasley brat, he would have identified her by the words that had come out of her mouth anyway. It was almost impressive that she had managed to insult not only himself but Pansy as well in the same breath, and he would have been more moved if he wasn’t so busy being sleepily irritated. “Of course it’s you, Weasley,” Draco mumbled as he rubbed at his face again. At least he was mostly vertical now, sitting up properly at the table in order to face further embarrassment (as if it could get any worse than this – how long had she been walking around while he was out?). “Your shrill wailing is exactly what I wanted to wake up to.”

He pulled at a peice of paper that had stuck to his shirt, placing it back on the table without much mind as to where it actually belonged. Draco’s heart wasn’t entirely committed to making Ginny’s life hell this morning, due to the fact that hunger was quickly instituting itself as his top priority and he could smell something being made in the kitchen. None of the food that they (supposedly) cooked and ate here even vaguely resembled the food he was used to at home but he had been forced to lower his standards in the name of not starving. “Is that slop you’re making edible?” He asked her, mind consumed with thoughts of breakfast (or perhaps lunch, given the time?) and something to drink. He even got himself up from the table and walked to the edge of the kitchen, knowingly and willingly entering a room that contained a Weasley. His face fell at the sight of the food she was making. “Tell me that’s not that awful muggle powder stuff.”

[gingevra-blog]

Ginny knew she ought not to judge her meal. After all, she'd spent years watching with great fascination as her mother took the cheapest cuts of meat and most deformed bits of veg and turned them into the tastiest of dishes. In the right hands, powdered eggs might be the prime ingredient in a fabulous dish. It was such a shame that Ginny's hands were not the right hands. She could just about manage beating the formula to a pulp and cooking it over a hob until the glop turned to lumps that vaguely resembled scrambled eggs. It tasted horrible but if she lathered it in enough sauce then it was just about edible. Disgusting, but edible. Currently, there were a total of two things she and Draco Malfoy agreed upon--one: Traveling through time to save Harry’s life had been worth the risk, two: powdered eggs were disgusting. Their similarities ended there. While Ginny was content to eat the eggs despite their taste, Draco had grown up in a house where he was almost surely waited on hand and foot. He’d probably never had to eat something he didn’t like.

“Why? Do you want some?” She asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice. He had not even attempted to hide his disgust, Ginny knew exactly what he thought of her food. Besides, she had absolutely no intention of making him lunch. Just the thought of dancing around the kitchen in an effort to whip up something for Draco Malfoy to eat left a bad taste in Ginny’s mouth. She wasn’t his House Elf. She swirled the contents of the jug around, decided she was satisfied with its consistency and dumped the lot into the pan. “Why were you asleep in the dining room anyway? Dean and Harry pissing you off that much?” One day she will master the art of speaking to Draco without sounding like she’s constantly poking fun, today was not that day however.

[gingevra-blog]

Witching Hour ;; Harry & Ginny                 [June 18th, 1998]

Things were … not good but better. A little better. Everything had been so messy for so long and finally having a conversation with Harry that didn’t end with tears filled Ginny with an undeniable hope for the future. Like maybe things between them weren’t as irreparable as she’d first believed. Ginny was convinced that if she somehow managed to push Harry in the right direction, reminding him what was at stake, then there might just be a chance for the two of them. And, as far as she could see, the best way to push him in the right direction was to create situation in which they were forced together. This was much easier said than done, however. For weeks, he’d done everything in his power to avoid her, to the point that their conversation a few days ago was the first one they’d shared since she traveled back in time, and she had a feeling that he’d be trying even harder to avoid her after accidentally breaking whatever ridiculous rules he’d previously followed.

It was for this reason that Ginny turned to Luna for help. While the Gryffindor witch had barely spoken with Harry, her best friend regularly spent entire nights in his company while on watch for the D.A. Convincing Luna to swap shifts was easy enough, Luna was always happy to help and accepted the swap as soon as Ginny explained why she wanted it. By midnight, Ginny was perched at the sitting room window, watching the darkness outside and waiting expectantly for Harry to make an appearance. She knew how annoyed he’d be when he discovered this night would be spent in her company and not Luna’s but she didn’t care, primarily because Ginny firmly believed his reason for breaking up with her in the first place was no longer relevant and if she could just spend a few hours with him then maybe she’d be able to convince him how ridiculous his logic was. It would be a difficult task –trying to convince him to give things another go without pushing him away completely—but Ginny was nothing if not determined.

She’d been sitting in the exact spot for the past fifteen minutes, checking the door periodically in fear that Harry might see the back of her head and leave before she noticed, when the sound of footsteps alerted her to his presence (Was it odd that she recognized the sound of his footsteps?). Ginny twisted around to look at him; it was stupid how much the sight of him affected her and that familiar suffocation sensation left her wordless. She smiled despite herself.

                “Luna’s not feeling well.” She lied. “She asked                 me to cover her shift.                   Is that alright?” 

[gingevra-blog]

                                         Some women are lost in the fire.                                                          ——— Some are built from it.

[gingevra-blog]

She wasn’t supposed to venture off alone --apparently a million and one charms still weren’t enough to keep her brother and Harry’s minds at rest when it came to keeping her safe--, but Ginny had never been big on following rules and saw no real harm in venturing away from the house for a couple of hours. She reckoned some time alone might do her good. Except Ginny had never been one for quiet contemplation, and just five minute after perching on a wooden fence at the other (or as other as the wards would let her go) side of the farm from the house she was reminded of this fact. Boredom settled in quickly, she was ready to brand the idea ridiculous and hop down from the fence to return to the house when the sound of footsteps approaching from behind reached her ears. Ginny snapped her head around, expecting some kind of reprisal for daring to step out of the house and caught sight of,not Ron but Luna. She couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over her body ... still, she couldn’t help but be hesitant.

                            “Ron didn’t send you, did he?” She queried

[gingevra-blog]

The Hardest Word ;; Hannah &           Ginny [ 12th June, 1998 ]

[detectivecrawley-blog]

They were running low on, well, everything. The no-magic rule was necessary, but it caused some problems when it came to supplies. Their bandages had been reduced to scraps of torn up rags, and they only had enough ingredients for one very small batch of Pepperup Potion. Hannah sighed as she took note of this on a torn piece of notebook paper. Their food supplies was a bit lower than she’d like, as well; she and Dean only had potatoes and some other mismatched vegetables to work with. Yes, the farmhouse was safe and about as comfortable as this ragtag bunch of renegades could hope for, but they’d need to go out and gather some things eventually.

In order to cheer herself up, Hannah began humming a song by Celestina Warbeck. Ernie always teased her for liking such “horrid music”, and the thought made her smile. “You stole my cauldron; my favourite black hat; purloined my owl; then flew off like a vampire bat,” she sang quietly, as she continued to take stock of whatever was left. Four vials of Calming Draught, three of Blood-Replenishing Potion, one pot of Polyjuice Potion being made by Hermione for a plan Hannah knew nothing about. She scribbled this down on the paper. A voice behind her caused her to jump, and the old glitter-gel pen clattered to the floor. “Ginny! You scared me!” Hannah threw a hand over her mouth, and let out a relieved laugh. Any sudden noises could be an enemy, but Ginny was no threat.

“You didn’t shout at me,” Hannah assured the girl with a quick shake of her head. “I probably should have given you space, anyway. You were…Well, it was a shock. But thank you.”

[gingevra-blog]

It was silly that a part of Ginny hoped the Hufflepuff girl would refuse her apology, thereby confirming that nagging suspicion that Hannah was nowhere near as good as everyone made her out to be. Ginny was sorely mistaken. Of course, Hannah had accepted her apology without hesitation and, by studying the girl’s face, Ginny could tell there wasn’t a hint of vehemence behind Hannah’s words. It angered Ginny to see Hannah’s serenity. Why did she always have to be so bloody nice? Ginny had waited a month for the moment in which Hannah would throw a fit, refuse to contribute anymore and storm off the way any normal person would do when put under the kind of pressure she was under, but it had never happened. Hannah took everything in her stride. Even being in the same house her mother had died within did nothing to change Hannah’s outlook on life. Maybe it was stress or grief or sheer lack of sleep but Ginny found herself hit with a sudden and strong desire to chip away at that happy façade and make Hannah realise that things were not okay.

Ginny stood at the door, arms crossed and with an expression of mild annoyance on her face, for several painfully silent seconds before finally finding the right words to speak. “That’s it? You’re not even mad at me? I was a bitch and you’re actually trying to take the blame for it. Unbelievable.”

She knew her disappointed had everything to do with the way she’d grown up, Ginny just could not understand how Hannah was able forgive so easily. Back home, trying to get one of her brothers to accept an apology was like trying to play Quidditch while blindfolded so to have Hannah act as if she was not even bothered by the ordeal was somewhat disheartening to Ginny. The redheaded girl hoped that maybe, just maybe, getting Hannah to admit to being even a little annoyed might be some kind of gateway to getting Hannah to admit that their situation was far shittier than she was making it out to be.

[gingevra-blog]

✿ SEX HEADCANON (requested by @stalwartdean)

Michael Corner ;; He wants it. She doesn’t. She’s fourteen and can’t bear to spend a moment alone with him. Every time they take five minutes for themselves he does his very best to shove a hand up her robes, pushing her past a point with which she’s comfortable. She’s too young, she’s not ready, and the pressure he puts on her is enough to make her scream with anger. She doesn’t scream, instead she breaks up with him. She’s spent enough time doing unsavory things for the pleasure of others and made a promise long ago to never do it again.

Dean Thomas ;; She wants it. He doesn’t. She’s fifteen and she’s ready. She doesn’t love him but she trusts him and if she can’t have who she truly wants then he’s a pretty great substitute. He’s kind and gentle, he never pressures her and when the time comes it is his patience that spurs her on. Things never really go the way she wants. They try, removing each other’s clothes and awkwardly fumbling around until nothing happens and they lose interest, then they try again and again but it’s never right and in the end she contemplates if he actually wants her or if he’s simply going along with the ride because he feels obligated. She doesn’t want to pressure him so she stops trying and the matter is never brought up again. Less than a month later they’ve broken up.

Harry Potter ;; He wants it. She wants it. She’s fifteen and for the first time in her life she’s confident with her emotions; she loves him, she loves him, she loves him. Every time he touches her, whether it’s a slight graze of his finger tips or a set of lips sucking on the skin at the nape of her neck, her entire body burns with an unquenchable fire. It is this undeniable desire for more that convinces her that she’s ready to take the next step. She knows he feels the same, even if he refuses to admit anything, she can feel the way his body reacts to her own. There is a hunger there that shocked her the first time they went beyond your typical snogging session. He’s too noble though, too worried that he might something wrong, and whenever she thinks this time might finally be the time he pulls away like he’s concerned he might break her or something. He’s afraid, which is okay, she’s happy to wait however long he needs to pluck up the courage to just go for it.