Hunters of Artemis (short stories)

Virginia: Hunter of Artemis

Virginia: Hunter of Artemis

Ginny Weasley woke early on a cool winter day, determined to have some time to herself before the day's classes would start. And, as everyone should have known by now, no one got in the way of what Ginny Weasley wanted. Not her family, or her friends.

Ginny made haste to dress in her school robes and grab her school bag from under her bed before creeping quietly out of her dorm room, lest she wake up someone. She carefully made her way down the stone steps and entered the Griffindore Common Room. The young witch's eyes darted quickly around the room, searching for anyone who may be lying in wait for her. Luck seemed to be on the fourteen-year-old girl's side, for the room turned out to be devoid of any human life--apart from herself, that is.

With care, the young red haired Weasley bent down to put on her shoes, then stood up and continued on to the portrait that would take her out of her common room. Once outside the safety of her home-away-from-home, Ginny had to be careful not to be spotted by any of Hogwarts' ghosts, and the few patrolling professors. Luckily, Ginny had been doing this sneaking about for a while now, so she didn't meet many obstacles.

When the young witch finally exited the castle, she couldn't help but give a sigh of relief. When she was outside, with no other human being in sight, she felt so...free. Out here there was no chatter, no stomping of the students' feet, but best of all, there was no nagging from her teachers or brothers.

The snow crunched underfoot as the youngest Weasley trekked her way to her favorite tree by the now-frozen lake. Once there, Ginny sat down with her legs crossed, cast a heat charm on her clothes to keep her warm, and pulled a book out from her bag, lit her wand and proceeded to study for an upcoming test.

After some time, Ginny put her book back in her bag, checked the on her watch--6:31, she still had a while before she would have to head inside--and simply watched the rising sun. It was this time of day, when she was alone, with only the sounds of nature to disturb her at times, that Ginny did her best thinking. Some time ago--she wasn't sure of the specific days, weeks, or months--Ginny had been doing this exact thing, watching the sun--though this was before winter had arrived--when she had come to a realization: It was pointless to keep waiting for Harry to notice her. If he was going to notice her as something other than his best friend's little sister, then he'd decide that when and if he was ready--and fawning over wasn't going to help Ginny's situation.

And so, that's how Ginny found herself attempting to act normal around Harry. It worked, too, it worked to the point that Ginny was able to talk to him without blushing--she even thought she might have finally gotten over her crush on the famous Harry Potter. Which was also probably why Ginny there was something between the boy-who-lived and Hermione Granger* that she would've refused to see in her blind hero worship for the raven-haired boy. Oddly enough, this deduction hadn't bothered her as much as it should have; yet another sign that she was over her crush.

It was outdoors, all alone, that young Ginny could do her own thinking without being influenced by her, honestly, overprotective brothers. Don't get her wrong, she loved her brothers, but she did need time away from their company sometimes. Ginny felt rather stifled if she didn't get some time with only her thoughts to accompany her. Really, it hadn't been until she'd started attending Hogwarts that Ginny realized just how overcrowded her life could feel when she was around her brothers every second of every day. And that's why she'd started to sneak out in the mornings, and occasionally at night, when all--or most--of the students were sleeping, if she ever felt the need. Ginny had begun her ritual sometime in her first year; she couldn't pinpoint exactly when. Though, admittedly, it hadn't been as relaxing when she'd been plagued by Tom Riddle in her first year.