Taken For Granted

Ginny unlocked her door and slumped against the wall. Tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes. She slammed the door in rage. Leaning back on the wall, she slide down onto the floor and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Why?" Ginny yelled to no one. "Why him? He did nothing! NOTHING!"

Ginny threw her keys. They hit her favorite lamp, knocking it onto the dark wood floor. It shattered into a million pieces.

"Like my heart has," Ginny whispered. "He is gone. Forever." Her face and neck were soaked from her waterfall of tears. No more babying. No more counciling her life and telling her how to properly live.

"Why? Why did I take it for granted?" she asked herself.

She tried to stand. She had to stand. She had to tell Hermione, who didn't know.

"Oh shit," Ginny said. Hermione expected him to come home, kiss her and their two boys hello, and complain of work that day.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't repeat the words her boss had just told her. It had been a normal day in the Department of the Control of Magical Creatures. Ginny had been filing paperwork on a rabid hippogriff when her boss walked in. He had looked very serious about something. He sat Ginny down and told her that someone from the Ministry, the Department of foreign Wizard Affairs to be exact, had gone to another part of England to resolve an issue between two ministers from England and France. He told her that during the meeting a group of activists, who was very anti-Britain, stormed the building in which the meeting was being held. That person from the ministry had fallen in an attempt to stop the revolt.

Ginny sat num. Her boss didn't even need to tell her the name. She knew exactly who worked in that department. Ginny stared at the logo on her boss's shirt for some time. She couldn't force it down. Her boss said he was sorry for her loss and left. That's when the reality had set in. Alone in her small office, the pain hit full throttle. So much pain that devoured her and tore her and her world to pieces. She couldn't comprehend. She had to get out of that room before she drowned in herself. How could this have happened?

She didn't cry until she was in her car and halfway home. Until then she drove, unaware of anything. How she managed to actually stay on the small road, she didn't know. By the time she pulled into her tiny driveway, her eyes and face were red from crying.

And that led Ginny to where she was currently, bawling in her cramped entrance hall. It had all happened in a matter of minutes. She had to call Hermione. She had to tell her the today her husband wouldn't be coming home. She had to tell Hermione so Hermione could tell her two-year olds, Peter and Alexander, and her unborn child that their father was gone. She had to tell the Boy-Who-Lived that he was now to be called the Boy-Who-Lost-His-Best-Friend. Ronald Weasley was dead.