Private message to Ginny

[alt_charlie]

Oh, balls. Ginny-bean, it's not that I forgot today was your birthday, it's that I didn't realise today was today -- I'm all turned 'round again. Night shifts do a number on your sense of time! I've nicked my mate Emmett's owl to deliver your present, since I won't be at supper today.

How are you doing? I feel like we haven't got to spend time together in a dog's own age.

Comments

[alt_ginny]

Oh, Charlie. Honestly, this summer has been mostly awful. It's the first really long holiday since Dad died, and I think about it every day and I can tell Mum's thinking about it too, only none of the boys want to talk about it and I don't want to upset Mum.

I used to love having a summer birthday because it meant I was at home and got to have it with my whole family and this year I wish I'd been born any other time of year because at school it wouldn't matter so much.

Also I've barely seen Ron or the Twins or Bill this summer. The Twins have been off doing some internship or apprenticeship or something absurdly respectable (really, how daft does someone need to be to want Fred and George as apprentices?!) and Ron's been off flying with his girlfriend practically every day and Bill lives at the office more than the Burrow.

It's like home isn't home anymore. Everyone's changed but me.

[alt_charlie]

Well, I promise not to patronise you and tell you I know exactly what you're going through, because I don't -- when I was your age, I was dealing with much different things -- but I do know what you mean about feeling like you're alone in the middle of everybody.

It was so hard when I first came up here to the reserve -- do you remember, when I was low man on the roster, and I couldn't go anywhere except for one day a month and that was only if nothing went arse over teakettle and they needed me? And I tried so hard to be adult and grownup and professional, and it was nice at first to be out on my own and taking care of myself and not having to explain to Mum why I was half an hour late coming home or where I'd gone after breakfast, but after a bit of being unhappy and not quite knowing why, I realised I didn't quite know how to be me if I wasn't in a pack of Weasleys. Sleeping in the barracks wasn't like sharing a room with Bill, you know? But I can imagine it's harder when you're not the one who went anywhere, it's everyone around you who did.

And it's so hard, missing Dad. Sometimes I'll go whole days without remembering, and then I catch myself thinking, "I have to tell this to Dad," and then it all hits me again all over. A friend here told me that it takes about a year before it starts to stop hurting so much -- her mum died when she was still in school, and her da died about fifteen years ago, so she's been through this herself. I'm holding on to the idea that it does get better.

I don't mind listening, if you want to talk. About anything, not just about Dad. You can always write me, or even come up for a visit, before you go back to school. I like to think I'm a pretty good listener (you can ask Bill, if you want a second opinion there) and I never tell tales.

[alt_ginny]

Could I come for a visit? The Twins have been up, it seems like loads of times, but you've never I haven't had a chance and I'd love to. See the dragons, and meet your friends and all the rest of it.

Supper tonight was dreadful. Everyone tried, and I tried, and we all carried on and pretended nothing was wrong, which made it even worse.

[alt_charlie]

Yes, of course! I didn't know that you'd be interested in coming to visit, or I would have asked you earlier. You can come whenever you'd like, just give me a day or two of notice so I can make sure it's all right. I think the visitor cabin is free this weekend, if you want to Floo up on Friday -- that way you won't have to put up with the barracks smelling like old socks and grumpy dragon. (Although the girls' barracks smell much nicer than the boys'. Don't tell Mum, she'll be on me for forgetting half the housekeeping charms she ever taught me.)

Bring your broom, I'll take you out to the caves -- I'm on perimeter search this month.