Post by Fiona on Apr 1, 2008 19:41:17 GMT -5
Name: Fiona
Character: Virginia MacMillan
Parents: Ernie and Pansy [Parkinson] MacMillan
Position: Youngest
PB: Looking
Age: Sixteen
House: Gryffindor
Happily: Single
Sample: Hermione was vaguely aware of Ron sitting down on the arm of the chair she occupied and of his arm wrapping around her. Her attention was on Mrs. Weasley, who looked as if she were ready to pass out right then and there. She wouldn’t blame her if she had, as she couldn’t imagine how horrible she felt right then. Just thinking of how hard it would be to lose a son made her feel worse and start to tear up again. She only noticed her the red headed boy was next to her when his arm tightened around her. It seemed to be in an attempt to comfort her, but could have easily been mistaken as an attempt to comfort himself. She supposed a lot of people were holding their loved ones close after the battle just so they’d believe that they were still one of the living and not a hallucination. A smile of the slightest nature tugged at her lips as she looked up at Ron to let him know she was alright. Well, as much as she could be at the moment.
Then Mr. Weasley walked back in the room, a frying pan in hand, asking if anyone was hungry. She could tell Ron was quite upset with it and made it clearly obvious when he stood up and walked out of the living room. She couldn’t blame either of them, actually. Mr. Weasley only wanted things to get back to normal and Ron was upset he was trying to rush it. She would have loved for things to have gone back to normal, for things to be the same again, but it wasn’t without hearing mysterious pops and booms from the twins’ room. Not without Fred and George confusing their mother, not without them cracking jokes at what seemed the most inappropriate times just to lift the mood. Nothing was going to be the same without Fred there as George seemed to be nothing but a lifeless shell now.
With a weak smile in the older man’s direction, Hermione stood and gave him the briefest of hugs before dashing up the stairs just in time to see Ron reaching for the twins’ door. Her breath caught, knowing what would happen if he did open it and wishing he did so the twins would yell something about privacy and then try to talk him into trying out a new invention of theirs. Her mind was, for once, extremely conflicted between wishes and reality. On one hand, Fred was dead. On the other, he couldn’t be dead and leave everyone behind like this, he wasn’t like that. He could be horrible and has severe temper problems, but he’d never do this to his loved ones, could he?
She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as Ron turned and climbed the rest of the stairs to his room. She slowly followed, trying to not glance at the room he had just debated entering. She kept her eyes fixed ahead of her, ignoring the want to looks sideways at the door as she passed, expecting to hear an explosion and Mrs. Weasley yelling, then Ginny’s giggles as the twins smirked and played innocent to frustrate their mother. It was what happened usually and it was odd that they kept themselves so eerily quiet at the moment…Oh, yeah. It wasn’t they anymore, it was George. She doubted she’d ever get used to it. They had been brothers of sorts to her and now she was one short. She doubted she could even consider Percy to be like a brother figure, more of a pain in the neck at most. Not that she blamed him for Fred’s death, just…He had to show up at the most inconvenient time. It wasn’t his fault, but it felt like it right then.
Opening Ron’s door quietly, she walked in and closed it behind her. She made her way over to his bed and sat down next to him, looking out the window also. What could she say? “I’m glad you got back a brother, but it kinda sucks you lost one,” seemed incredibly rude and unsympathetic. It lacked tact and sincerity and she thought she’d kill herself before she said some nearly as offensive as that sounded in her head. She clasped her hands together in her lap and watched some birds fly by the window. It wasn’t right, she thought, for the birds to chirp merrily just outside the house when everyone was mourning and obviously hurt terribly bad. It was almost as if someone was rubbing in their face that nothing was wrong with them. Like the Malfoys. Hadn’t they done more than their fair share of evil? Shouldn’t they be the ones suffering rather than a family who did nothing but help?
Tears stung her eyes as she thought, but she wouldn’t allow herself to cry in front of Ron. Fred had been his real brother, had been there for him his whole life, he should be the one who had the right to cry. She had only been a friend and unofficial family. It would have been wrong for her to feel like she had lost a brother also and cry, very wrong. She hadn’t seen Ron this angry or upset ever. True, it didn’t seem to be outright anger, but it was lurking beneath the surface, she could tell, boiling. She didn’t want him to see her tear up and burst on her, because then she surely would cry and feel worse. He and Harry had been her best friends for seven years, she wouldn’t be able to handle one of them turning her back on her at the moment. She had cried for nearly two weeks when he had walked out on her and Harry in the forest, how much would she cry if he walked out on them forever? And after the kiss, she wasn’t sure how she could cope with it. She was already confused enough, him leaving would just make it worse.
“What are you thinking, Ron?” she asked softly, placing her head on his shoulder gently, trying to not get too comfortable in case he did explode on her and sent her out of the room. And, sadly, after all that had happened, having Ron hate her was the worst thing she could ever imagine happening right then.
Character: Virginia MacMillan
Parents: Ernie and Pansy [Parkinson] MacMillan
Position: Youngest
PB: Looking
Age: Sixteen
House: Gryffindor
Happily: Single
Sample: Hermione was vaguely aware of Ron sitting down on the arm of the chair she occupied and of his arm wrapping around her. Her attention was on Mrs. Weasley, who looked as if she were ready to pass out right then and there. She wouldn’t blame her if she had, as she couldn’t imagine how horrible she felt right then. Just thinking of how hard it would be to lose a son made her feel worse and start to tear up again. She only noticed her the red headed boy was next to her when his arm tightened around her. It seemed to be in an attempt to comfort her, but could have easily been mistaken as an attempt to comfort himself. She supposed a lot of people were holding their loved ones close after the battle just so they’d believe that they were still one of the living and not a hallucination. A smile of the slightest nature tugged at her lips as she looked up at Ron to let him know she was alright. Well, as much as she could be at the moment.
Then Mr. Weasley walked back in the room, a frying pan in hand, asking if anyone was hungry. She could tell Ron was quite upset with it and made it clearly obvious when he stood up and walked out of the living room. She couldn’t blame either of them, actually. Mr. Weasley only wanted things to get back to normal and Ron was upset he was trying to rush it. She would have loved for things to have gone back to normal, for things to be the same again, but it wasn’t without hearing mysterious pops and booms from the twins’ room. Not without Fred and George confusing their mother, not without them cracking jokes at what seemed the most inappropriate times just to lift the mood. Nothing was going to be the same without Fred there as George seemed to be nothing but a lifeless shell now.
With a weak smile in the older man’s direction, Hermione stood and gave him the briefest of hugs before dashing up the stairs just in time to see Ron reaching for the twins’ door. Her breath caught, knowing what would happen if he did open it and wishing he did so the twins would yell something about privacy and then try to talk him into trying out a new invention of theirs. Her mind was, for once, extremely conflicted between wishes and reality. On one hand, Fred was dead. On the other, he couldn’t be dead and leave everyone behind like this, he wasn’t like that. He could be horrible and has severe temper problems, but he’d never do this to his loved ones, could he?
She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as Ron turned and climbed the rest of the stairs to his room. She slowly followed, trying to not glance at the room he had just debated entering. She kept her eyes fixed ahead of her, ignoring the want to looks sideways at the door as she passed, expecting to hear an explosion and Mrs. Weasley yelling, then Ginny’s giggles as the twins smirked and played innocent to frustrate their mother. It was what happened usually and it was odd that they kept themselves so eerily quiet at the moment…Oh, yeah. It wasn’t they anymore, it was George. She doubted she’d ever get used to it. They had been brothers of sorts to her and now she was one short. She doubted she could even consider Percy to be like a brother figure, more of a pain in the neck at most. Not that she blamed him for Fred’s death, just…He had to show up at the most inconvenient time. It wasn’t his fault, but it felt like it right then.
Opening Ron’s door quietly, she walked in and closed it behind her. She made her way over to his bed and sat down next to him, looking out the window also. What could she say? “I’m glad you got back a brother, but it kinda sucks you lost one,” seemed incredibly rude and unsympathetic. It lacked tact and sincerity and she thought she’d kill herself before she said some nearly as offensive as that sounded in her head. She clasped her hands together in her lap and watched some birds fly by the window. It wasn’t right, she thought, for the birds to chirp merrily just outside the house when everyone was mourning and obviously hurt terribly bad. It was almost as if someone was rubbing in their face that nothing was wrong with them. Like the Malfoys. Hadn’t they done more than their fair share of evil? Shouldn’t they be the ones suffering rather than a family who did nothing but help?
Tears stung her eyes as she thought, but she wouldn’t allow herself to cry in front of Ron. Fred had been his real brother, had been there for him his whole life, he should be the one who had the right to cry. She had only been a friend and unofficial family. It would have been wrong for her to feel like she had lost a brother also and cry, very wrong. She hadn’t seen Ron this angry or upset ever. True, it didn’t seem to be outright anger, but it was lurking beneath the surface, she could tell, boiling. She didn’t want him to see her tear up and burst on her, because then she surely would cry and feel worse. He and Harry had been her best friends for seven years, she wouldn’t be able to handle one of them turning her back on her at the moment. She had cried for nearly two weeks when he had walked out on her and Harry in the forest, how much would she cry if he walked out on them forever? And after the kiss, she wasn’t sure how she could cope with it. She was already confused enough, him leaving would just make it worse.
“What are you thinking, Ron?” she asked softly, placing her head on his shoulder gently, trying to not get too comfortable in case he did explode on her and sent her out of the room. And, sadly, after all that had happened, having Ron hate her was the worst thing she could ever imagine happening right then.
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