Who: Ginny Weasley and Open What: Trying to find the room of requirement. Where: 7th level corridors When: Late in the night.
Ginny was desperate, exasperated, frustrated, confused, sad, nostalgic, a nice bulk of every blue emotion she knew. Right now what she wanted was to be back at home, but not the home she'd left, a home with all her brothers, with Harry and with Hermoine and without war, perhaps with an alive Sirius walking around, and Lupin, and Molly's delicious meals. Maybe Ginny wasn't so eager to go back as everyone else, because she wanted to go way back. Perhaps she could? Perhaps she could go back to her time, but only a couple of years earlier to warn Harry not to go into the Ministry of Magic, or to warn Dumbledore that the horcrux was fake? Could she? By this point she knew everything told from Harry's mouth or from living it, but she could do nothing at all, to change fix or arrange anything.
Ginny walked hurriedly trying to be as silent as possible, she needed to find it. The room of requirement, the answer to everything could be lingering there, she'd walk in to find a room filled with diverse time turners and books about it, and she'd know what to do then, she'd have an answer. Right? She wasn't aware if the school rules still applied to her, after all she wasn't exactly a student right now, hadn't been for about a year. Could she be punished for wandering around? She even giggled at the thought of detention, being at Hogwarts served for her, she'd missed it horribly, the sensation of security even in the worst of the times, the feeling of belonging, the houses, how she missed it, she was no longer a kid, no longer could she escape into her own little world and the nostalgia filled her.
The huge dark corridors only added to her emotions dwelling up, she could feel her eyes glassy, and a very personal feeling of exploding. Ginny wasn’t one to show her bad side to others, she tended to keep it to herself, she hated to cry in public or to show her nerves, she gulped it down, but now she was alone and it was coming out of her. In the end she wasn’t such an optimist was she? The moving stairs finally put her on the 7th floor, and she tiptoed fearing to be found, she carved for solitude, but her luck as about to run dry.
Ginny heard steps behind her and turned around to meet a figure in the dark.