Ginny Weasley (defiantlioness) wrote in ageofdarkness, @ 2015-05-28 20:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | ginny weasley, neville longbottom |
Saturdays were Ginny's days. The Burrow was quiet (well, ish. Considering that even though they'd had to rebuild it, it was still the Burrow and you never who was going to pop by) and she didn't have any hours scheduled at the hospital. Adjusting to having 'free time' was something that, perhaps, shouldn't have been a learning experience for a typical young woman. Though, typical wouldn't be the word choice the redhead would use to describe her life.
Now, however, there was a rhythm to her days. Even the ones that were less responsibility heavy held a certain routine to them. Her healer had encouraged as much and while at first she'd resisted, she'd found that even the basic sense of structure and order helped her maintain her calm and kept her better focused on the present instead of drifting into the unpleasant past.
She was up early, ate a quiet breakfast with her mum and dad and whichever brothers happened to be lingering around and then helped to clean up. By mid-morning, everyone else had run off either to work or on errands, leaving the youngest Weasley behind. That in itself was a sign of rebuilding and strengthening considering how closely she'd been watched in the first year following the destruction of the Academy and her subsequent rescue.
The first order of business, once the house was hers was to turn on the wireless. The quietness of the Burrow kept her on edge and every noise startled her. At least with the music on, she could let her guard down a bit. She had slowly been growing her musical tastes over the last two years. Re-familiarizing herself with what it was like to get to enjoy something as simple as listening to a band you liked.
She was humming along as she cleaned up the place a bit. Ginny found an odd comfort in cleaning. For one, it was one of the few things she was good at. Her healer thought it was about the control and perhaps she was right, but Ginny wondered if it was only because of habit. She'd spent a long time in the Marvolo School and the Academy during her formative years. Something had to have rubbed off on her. In either case, Ginny found a sense of satisfaction in keeping the house tidy.
Once she was done with the chores, she would sit down and write a letter to Neville. Another part of her Saturday routine. He was off traveling with his parents and saving the world and she was here and while the distance wasn't exactly ideal, they'd agreed that spending time with family for now was what they both needed. He came back to visit when he could and they kept in touch with letters. It wasn't perfect, but she'd take this over the two of them risking their lives back at the Academy any day of week.
She was in the middle of the dishes, elbow deep in suds, when she thought she heard a knock at the door. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and wrinkled her nose. Hardly anyone ever knocked at the Burrow. It was definitely more of a 'walk right in you're probably welcome no matter what' kind of house; especially with the wards the way they were. And the music was up so she couldn't have been sure. It shouldn't have sparked a shot of anxiety running through her, but it did. Leaving the dishes where they were she went over the wireless and turned it down, listening to see if it had just been in her head. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder.
Hands still full of soap and an anxious bubble still building in her stomach she slowly made her way to the door.
"Wh-Who is it?" She asked, forcing her voice to sound more sure than she felt.