Ginny Weasley sat on the front porch. Her knees were tucked against her chest and her arms hugged them tightly. Her beautiful eyes were marred by the glassy likeness of tears. She stared at the waning moon, its soft glow lighting the small area which she occupied.
Ginny rocked slowly back and forth, her thoughts centered on one thing – no, one person: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He had broken up with her after Professor Dumbledore’s funeral.
Harry’s reason had been… totally lame and really stupid. At least, Ginny thought so.
Ginny knew that when most boys broke up with girls, it was for another girl, because she wasn’t pretty enough for him, or because he just didn’t want a girlfriend at the time. Not Harry James Potter, though; oh no! The Chosen One couldn’t be with Ginny because it was the only way to keep her safe.
Ginny snorted. Even when she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew Harry had been right. She was a target for the Death Eaters, and her red hair didn’t exactly help things, either. It didn’t matter, though; she’d be a target anyways. The Weasley family was entirely to close to the Boy Who Lived, and, therefore, say quite high on the list.
Ginny wished she could make Harry understand this. She’d have to shoulder Atlas’ heavy burden before that happened; or, maybe she would be content to admire the Boy Who Lived from afar. After all, that’s what she’d been doing for most of the time. She would be there waiting for him when he returned, arms wide open and a smile on her face.
No; she could never do that. Ginevra Weasley was not one to sit around while everyone else was occupied. No matter what happened, she would follow Harry Potter to the ends of the universe.
She did not care what anyone would say. She was her own person. Harry would kill Voldemort, and Ginny would protect his back. She would not allow him to be harmed.
“I love you, Harry Potter,” she whispered quietly.
The characters and setting of this story are the creative property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.