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Enough by Strawberry Shortcake
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Enough

Strawberry Shortcake

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot and characters not in JKR's books.

Where does one story end and another begin? Is it somewhere lost in the folds of time that one story gets connected to another? This story is an odd one with no actual beginning or end, it just happened. It's about the difference between love and lust, the line between death and life, the crossing of two worlds.

I don't believe in fairytales, nor do I think everything should have a happy ending. Life is a series of actions and reactions. You get what you deserve, no more no less.

However, love is the wild card in the game. It makes a villain a superhero, even if it's just in one persons eyes. It makes people crazy, and they do things they never thought they would.

Yet, it is one of those things that we can never understand.

I don't know how it all started. If I were required to say a certain time, I would guess the start of my fifth year. That was the end of the beginning for all of us. It's when we were forced out of childhood by the war to end all wars. It's when Harry stopped smiling and Ron put aside his chess set for battle plans. Hermione left that year, Dumbledore sent her to study in Japan. Said that their techniques would be necessary to win the war, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was a hot day in July when death eaters attacked the burrow. July 17 to be exact, it's one of those things you never forget. Ron and I were pushed out the door along with the twins while my parents fought to their death. They twins still haven't gotten over it. You would think that taking our parents would be enough, but no, they took Bill, Charlie, and Percy too.

I still remember George crying for the first time when he saw the bodies.

We were sent back to Hogwarts as part of the orphan acts, a series of bills passed through the ministry of magic stating orphaned children under the legal age could not live with out a guardian. We were one of the first cases under its jurisdiction; there have been so many more since.

Every night before we went to sleep Ron and I would talk to some on the other orphans. We would exchange stories of our parents and share a picture here and there. All the orphans stayed in the same tower, kids as young as 2 and as old as 17 all lived in harmony. Race, heritage, age, blood, and house didn't matter. We were the casualties of war that would never be acknowledged.

The twins never took part in our nighttime rituals. They didn't find any comfort from hearing about other peoples parents. To them it was a cruel cycle of reliving parts of the past.

I didn't think so. Pictures can fade, but memories will last forever.

July passed particularly slow, each moment drawn out reminders of the war. In August, Dumbledore planned a special trip for the orphans to Diagon Alley to get school supplies, and an ice cream cone on him. Needless to say we were ecstatic.

The night before the trip, he came. I still remember exactly how it happened.

I sat next to Hannah Abbot as she showed me a beautiful picture of her family last summer at their estate.

"Sara keeps asking me when Mommy is going to come back. I have no clue what to tell her. Do I tell her the truth? Do I tell a white lie?" Hannah's younger sister, Sara, was 3 years old. Old enough to remember her parents, young enough to not understand.

"I have no clue Hannah," I avoided eye contact. It seemed wrong that even after losing her parents she had to worry about things as large as this.

"Why did they have to go Ginny?" Hannah sobbed, " Why?" She was one of our newer arrivals. They get over the tears soon.

"I don't know why. But Sara still needs you. You need to look after her. Would your parents want you mourning them, or looking after Sara?" In order to get kids to stop crying, it was always best measure to ask them what their parents would want. We needed to stay strong, if one of us fell, we would all fall.

"I just miss them," She said batting away her tears.

"I know," Came my immediate reply as I placed an am around her shoulder. The truth was, I didn't know. Everyone had a different twist added to their hardships. Hannah's was her sisters, where Terry Boot's was he saw the whole process.

Ron took that exact moment to burst into the common room bearing news from a ghost.

"A newbie is coming," He gasped out his chest heaving, as he stood doubled over.

"Who is it?" Marietta Edgecombe asked looking up from an out dated copy of Witch Weekly. The war had caused to printing of superfluous magazines to come to a halt.

"I dunno, all that the Grey Lady would tell me is that it is a guy," Ron said walking over to one of the many desks. He pulled out a sheet of parchment that he stared at everyday, but never wrote anything.

"Are you almost done with that Marietta?" I asked the Ravenclaw. I could feel Hannah's even breathing as her head rested on my shoulder. At least she could still fall asleep.

Marietta passed me the magazine that had been cycling around since the beginning of July. The cover was slightly ripped, some pages were dog-eared, while others were drawn on, but it was one of the few reminders of what life was like.

"The article on hair charms is really interesting," Marietta called from the staircase she was ascending. Apparently, she didn't care about the newbie.

Newbies were one of the best parts of out boring lives. They always brought new stories and it was a chance to hear old ones we might have forgotten. They also came with more stuff. We shared everything that didn't have sentimental value. A photo album maybe off limits, but a new red tube top was up for grabs.

Hannah began to whimper and my hand shot up to stroke her silky blonde hair. Newbies usually came with nightmares too.

Slowly the door creaked open and I drew in an unusual gasp as I saw him. Growing up with 6 brothers, not much fazed me. This did.

He stood alone in our common room, his shoulders sagging and his hair lying limply in front of his eyes. He looked like a lost puppy that had been kicked one too many times. One arm was bound to his body in a sling while the other pulled along a large trunk, his face was pretty badly bruised and an obvious black eye was forming.

In the midst of the war, Madam Pomfrey had turned the hospital wing into a clinic for those on the Hogsmead front. She still cared about the orphans, but such minimal injuries like his did not earn a night stay.

"Let me help you with that," Ron said walking forward and taking the large trunk. When we had first come, Ron found it his duty to welcome each new arrival. Obviously, he was no different.

"You can share my room, we are out of singles and I have a dorm room. It's first up the stairs," Ron balanced the trunk on his leg and gestured with his hand. "Sit here and Ginny will explain to you about the rules, but don't wake Hannah. She has enough going on." With that said Ron journeyed up the stairs to the dorm room he shared with the twins, Terry, and now him.

He sat down with a remote elegance I hadn't seen in a while. My mother had that kind of air about her. He stayed silent, but turned his lowered head to face me.

"There is no name calling, no rejection, no prejudice," I started. Did we honestly think he would follow these rules? He lived on those things.

"Breakfast is buffet style in here, they serve troops in the Great Hall. Lunch in the kitchen, as is dinner, again with the troops. Memory time is after dinner; you do not have to participate. We share memories we have." I said. Did we want to hear his memories? What if they were terrible thing, like abusing house elves?

"It is common to share all you have that doesn't carry too much sentimental value. We're all pretty much equal here. Any questions?" As I finished I looked up to meet a pair of muddy gray eyes.

"No, none," He whispered standing up and smoothing his robe. Slowly he turned and ascended the stairs, I watched him disappear into the room Ron had shown him.

I had decided that first night he was in shock. He hadn't said a single word against me or Ron. What was the world coming to?

I thought Ron had taken his duty too seriously, but what I hadn't realized, was that I was discriminating against him. I was waiting for him to slip up, but we all slip up sometime or another. If we didn't we wouldn't be human.

My name is Ginerva Anne Weasley, and this is my account.