[There's a sound, something not so tightly controlled and sharp and irritated all at once. Ginny doesn't realise it's come from her own throat until she feels how the device is digging into the palm of her hand, she's squeezing it too hard, and she sets it down on her desk and stands and walks away from it for a few seconds. Ahead. Always ahead. All of them. And she'll be left behind again and again; she knew Percy must be from after, he's talking to her like she's forgiven him, he's talking to her, but the confirmation sits bitter on her tongue like it always does.
Why won't the deities let her go home and live this future? Why make it so unfair and force her to deal with the fallout when she doesn't have the memories?
Ginny throws her wand down on her bed, the sparks from the tip scorching the fabric, and she strides back to the device and sets her hands down on either side of it, head dropped to speak to her brother. Despite the tumult of emotions in her chest, she cannot be cross with him now, not when the loss of their brother is so fresh. May 7. She knows the battle was on the 2nd. This isn't fair.
Why did she reply to his entry first? Why didn't she hang back and let the others take this? Merlin damn it all.]
I told you: the City mucks around with time. Not everyone... not all of us come from the seventh of May. It's December here, if you couldn't tell. Of 2011.
voice ][
Why won't the deities let her go home and live this future? Why make it so unfair and force her to deal with the fallout when she doesn't have the memories?
Ginny throws her wand down on her bed, the sparks from the tip scorching the fabric, and she strides back to the device and sets her hands down on either side of it, head dropped to speak to her brother. Despite the tumult of emotions in her chest, she cannot be cross with him now, not when the loss of their brother is so fresh. May 7. She knows the battle was on the 2nd. This isn't fair.
Why did she reply to his entry first? Why didn't she hang back and let the others take this? Merlin damn it all.]
I told you: the City mucks around with time. Not everyone... not all of us come from the seventh of May. It's December here, if you couldn't tell. Of 2011.