Just a Girl

Just a Girl

Its cold outside. The wind whips through my hair and stings my face. I pull the corners of my coat closer to me in a vain attempt to cut the chill. Even though it is cold I am rather content to walk home as opposed to taking the bus, which involves waiting. Waiting in the bitter cold. I glance at my watch as I wait for the streetlight to turn green. 7am exactly. My shift had gone well, and thank the gods it was over. I yawn, eight hours of watching a computer screen in the middle of the night was not my idea of fun, but someone has to do it. The war has been going on for almost ten years. We even had to tell the Muggles about He who must not be named. They help us fight now... not on the battle field but their technology is really something. We now have the capability to electronically watch every single piece of communication in Great Britain. Everything from owls, to Muggle telephones, to fireplaces is being closely monitored. That's what I do. I sit at a communications station and watch. The screen flashes if anything suspicious comes up. But nothing did, at least not last night. I come out of my reverie as I notice the traffic light change to green. I step carefully off the curb, narrowly avoiding a patch of ice than would have surely sent me flailing around on the ground.

I enjoy the walk for the most part. The problem with cold December mornings is that they are quiet, almost too quiet. All there is to do is walk and think. Thinking has become a dangerous pastime these days. Thinking meant remembering, remembering meant pain. Our family had survived the first war but I am starting to doubt we'll make it through this one. Bill died not a year after the Ministry admitted Dumbledore had been right. Charlie came home to take his place in the order. Percy died saving Harry in a last attempt to show everyone how sorry he was that he ever doubted us. The twins are still alive, joke shop flourishing. They survive because of the joke shop... who in their right minds would ever suspect Fred 'I can't take anything seriously' Weasley or his twin George 'I would rather be on Holiday'. But they aren't all fun and games. They do their share just like everyone else.

Per mum's request I fled to the United States with Hermione, she wanted Ron to come too but he wouldn't. 'Mione came here to do research at a Muggle University. She is working on something terribly complicated, some new venture combining Muggle Technology and Wizarding magic. I'll never understand it, but I don't have to.

As my mind drifts toward Hermione I remember how far we have come. We've been friends for fifteen years and lovers for the last two. I don't know what took us so long. I guess the war had something to do with it. We have been through mission after mission each one had its own risk... I think I've loved Hermione since I was eleven years old... but I never called it that. I figured I just respected her and looked up to her, like an older sister... Then I started noticing how cute she looked when she was thinking about something important, how she tilted her head just so, and nibbled on her lower lip. When I started wishing I could nibble on her lower lip was when I realized my fascination with her was a little more than simple respect.

I had been hesitant to tell her of my interest in her, I assumed she was in love with my brother, everyone did... After a few weeks of debate I decided she had to know, so I told her. She admitted that she was shocked but flattered and after much debate told me she had some bisexual leanings but would much rather stay just friends. I had expected as much so it didn't hurt... well maybe a little... A few years later I was on a reconnaissance mission and lost touch with The Order. I was only gone a few extra weeks but when I returned it was to a very weepy Hermione. She said she didn't realize how much I meant to her until she had thought I was dead. We chose to attempt a relationship. That was the best decision either of us ever made. Now we are the closest friends and lovers anyone could ever be and although we cannot get married in this country we have plans to marry as soon as we can return to England.

I shake myself out of my musings as I realize I'm at my front door. I wearily climb the stairs and unlock the door to our three-bedroom flat. I tiptoe quietly past all the bedrooms and into the kitchen. I need to warm up before trying to sleep. Sleep has become increasingly elusive over the past few months as letters from mum become more and more scarce... We understand she has things that need doing but it is still nice to know she is alive. I can hear light snoring coming from Tara's room as I settle onto the couch to drink the tea I had just made.

Tara is our Muggle roommate. She knows about our relationship and about our status as witches. Neither revelation startled her. She takes everything in stride... The only thing I envy about her is that her parents live in the United States; she doesn't have to worry that they will be killed. There may come a day when Voldemort's power reaches this far, but that day is not today.

I drain my cup and make my way to the bedroom I share with my wife. She is curled up under all of the blankets, her hair falls around her face in cute little ringlets. I just stand in the doorway for a moment to stare and realize, yet again, that I am the luckiest witch alive. I change my close quietly and slip into bed beside her. She sighs a little in her sleep, rolls over to wrap her arms around me and mumbles a sleep filled, "I love you."

I stroke her hair out of her face and plant a small kiss on her forehead. As I drift off to sleep all thoughts of the war, my parents, and Voldemort drift from my mind. All that matters right now is that I am just a girl in love.