Never Be Scared To Hope

Never Be Scared To Hope

Ginny sighed and rolled over onto her side, clutching her soft pillow to her, knees up to her chest. It had happened. The Dark Lord had returned and she was in the middle of a war - a war that hadn't even begun yet. It was inevitable though.

Hot tears of fear and fury welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back angrily. So long as the others didn't cry, she wouldn't. It was Harry who had the most to face up to, he who had lost everyone who might be considered family. Harry had lost everything. Ginny could not bring herself to cry when he would not.

Her entire family though - her mother, her father, her brothers - all of them. All in The Order. And Ginny, try as she might, could not banish the thoughts of what had happened to the previous Order members. And her family were proud and strong, despite what others may say and think. They were brave. They would lay their very lives on the line for Dumbledore. They already had.

Until her father had been attacked, she hadn't realised how much was at stake. She had heard stories, read books... But nothing could have prepared her for that fear. That heart wrenching terror that had consumed her body like malicious flames devouring a lone twig. What if her father had died? What then? Who then? Her mother? Bill maybe? Or perhaps Charlie? And the war hadn't even begun.

Ginny felt a tear run down her cheek and she brushed it away with the back of her hand furiously. It wasn't right. How could just one wizard do this to her? To everyone?

She rolled over again, unable to settle. The light from the window was left behind her and she blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the dark. In the bed ahead of her was Hermione, lying awkwardly on her back. Ginny knew she was trying to avoid putting weight on her ribs. It was clear she was awake, her eyes glittered strangely in the dark, yet Ginny couldn't bring herself to speak to her. What was there to say?

Turning, Ginny looked to Ron's bed. He was fast asleep and snoring softly. Deep grooves twisted their way round his arms now. He wouldn't admit it, but it hurt him terribly. She had seen him inspecting the damage earlier, wincing as he pressed it gingerly. But Ron was proud. Whilst others were suffering, he wouldn't admit to his own pain. He would take it as best he could and sympathise with the others, speaking little of his hurt, making out as though it were a joke. Her vision suddenly became crystalline and blurred as a sob shook her throat. Her eyes burnt and hot tears ran down her pale cheeks.

Ginny bit her lip and thrust her face into her pillow, hiding the tears and stifling the sobs. Stop it. Just stop it she thought, and she fought against the tears, ashamed of them. She ought to be stronger than this. It wasn't right for her to cry when others were suffering so much more. Her ankle didn't even hurt anymore, so she couldn't even try to kid herself that it was from the pain. Madame Pomfrey had only wanted to keep her there overnight to check that there were no other problems. Ginny was grateful for it. She doubted there was anything else wrong with her - she fount that she didn't even care if there was. But she couldn't face the other girls in her dormitory. Not yet.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Her crying in corners while all her friends, her family fought and suffered around her? Unless she was killed. She giggled weakly at the thought and tried to imagine not thinking. Not having to feel. Unconscious bliss compared to the anguish she was suffering now.

But no. She would be strong. She would fight alongside them and if it came about, die alongside them. She wouldn't stand and watch, hiding away like a scared little child. Ginny was proud of what she had done that day, but regretted that she hadn't been of more use. Next time she would be ready though. She would hold just that little bit longer. Although... how was it possible to prepare yourself against evil in its' purest form? It couldn't be done. It was all improvising. Guesswork. Most of the time, luck. Just as Harry had said. She hadn't fully understood him at the time, but now she realised it was true, and her heart throbbed painfully at the knowledge.

Harry had had to suffer too much. He was too young to suffer like this, but there was nothing anyone could do. It had to be this way. But for how long? What would happen if they lost the war? Would anyone survive past that point, or would they be left to suffer and squirm beneath He Who Must Not Be Named? A Timeturner would be useful she thought shakily. Then she wouldn't have to think like this. She would know for sure, it wouldn't be a case of 'What if? What if'. It would be clear. Decisive. Then again, was that such a great thing? No she decided. It's better not to know, cos what if it's something bad? Would you seriously just be able to pretend you didn't know and go about your business carefree? Or would you wallow in the misery of it all? Would you want to shrivel up and die before it happens? Anything's better than seeing that come about after all. Would you not work to achieve anything because it's pointless? - It'll all be for nothing anyway, what's the point? It'll be destroyed... Just what's the point?

Ginny shivered to find herself thinking this. It wasn't the fact that she was thinking it that disturbed her, but the fact that the world had become such a terrible place that she found herself in the position to think it. How could people let this happen? As soon as she thought this, stubborn resolution settled upon her. She would not give up. No matter how hard times got, and how heartbroken and lost and alone she became, she would never give up hope. That would just satisfy Him. It would be what He wanted, and Ginny could not bring herself to give in to that.

At last, Ginny allowed her tears to flow freely, unable to understand why she no longer felt guilty about them. Perhaps it had something to do with her accepting how much Harry had to suffer, but understanding that she would suffer as well. They all would. Or maybe it was her realising that if it's something good, you can't keep it inside forever. But whatever it was, she felt the warm relief of tears on her hot cheeks as she thought. If she just held on to hope - no matter how hard it became - it would all be all right. It would stop Him from accomplishing complete devastation. So long as everyone just hoped, and believed in that hope, He could not take over. Not ever. And at that moment, Ginny Weasley refused to ever think with such helplessness again, and promised herself to be strong and brave when she fought. She would never be scarred to hope, and never give up believing. What she was doing was right, just like her tears were right, and she would never give in. The war had after all not even started - who knew what might happen?