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 She was sitting in a room. An empty room that smelt of the dozens of people who'd lived there for months on end.

It was very quiet in there, very lonely.

She didn't like not knowing what was going on. She didn't like being kept in the dark. She didn't like the thought of her family, her friends, everyone fighting while she sat in the room, on a chair, staring at the door for some sign of someone –anyone who'd tell her what was going on –like a princess.

She wanted to fight too. She wanted to help. She wanted to be a part of this battle.

She was tired of people telling her that she was too young. That it was too dangerous. That she could get hurt.

She could get hurt doing anything, if she tried hard enough –life wasn't about living in efforts to stay unhurt, it was about learning to heal after every wound you received, physical or otherwise. Life was about taking risks; making the jump, even if there was chance you would fall.

But she wouldn't dare defy her father. She wouldn't be able to bear it if her father…died in this battle, and the last thing she'd done for him was not listening to him the rare time he was ever serious with her.

There was a very faint explosion, and the room shuddered, some of the clumsily tacked-on house banners falling to the ground.

I need to know what's going on, she thought desperately, hoping the room would be able to grant her that wish.

Nothing happened.

Ginny Weasley sighed dramatically and shifted her weight on the uncomfortable chair, wishing she'd at least slumped down dejectedly in a more comfortable seat.

She thought about Luna, George, Fred, Bill, Percy, Ron, Hermione, Neville, her father, her mother, Dean, Seamus, Padma, Parvati, Cormac, Ernie…Harry. Any of them could be laying somewhere in the castle, hurt.

Or dead.

Ginny blinked back the tears that'd suddenly sprung to her eyes at the thought of any single one of them laying dead on the hard marble ground, bleeding profusely, or covered up by rubble, being trampled by a giant or being stepped on by an uncaring Death Eater.

The castle shook again, but Ginny'd grown used to the rumbling that had been happening since the battle started. The last of the people coming through Aberforth's passage way had long since left.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist, wishing that the battery hadn't died two years ago. Wishing that she had gotten a new watch.

Ginny wondered what time it was. How long the war had been going on without her. How many people had died.

She wondered if someone'd already won, and everyone had just forgotten that she was in this room, stranded. A prisoner.

She shook herself. The only ones winning this war would be the light side.

But what if…

The only people who would win this war would be the light side, she thought firmly, sliding her eyes around the room.

She swiveled around at the sound of the portrait of Arianna opening, and Tonks and Neville's grandmother clambered through, not breaking pace.

Three seconds later, Harry had thrown open the door that lead to Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione behind him, carrying what looked vaguely like basilisk fangs.

She studied his face while he had a rushed conversation with the two woman who'd just arrived, pleased that there were very few cuts marring it –he hadn't gotten hurt yet.

"Ginny," said Harry, "I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in."*

She couldn't help the delighted look that crossed her face –now she had a valid reason as to why she was fighting. There would be no defying her father after all.

She darted up the stairs in the direction Tonks had gone, Harry's voice ringing after her.

"And then you can come back in!" He shouted, "You've got to come back in!"*

She smiled to herself as she left the room.

Ginny was no longer a prisoner in that dreaded room.



*Taken directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, U.S. Hardback Edition, pages 624 and 625.

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