Gryffindor Family

The Hogwarts grounds were quiet that afternoon, the chilly autumn wind rustling the colorful leaves scattered across the path. Students were scattered in groups around the courtyard, some chatting and laughing, while others sought the solitude of the benches or the trees. It was the kind of day that felt calm, almost serene, until it wasn’t.

Ginny had just finished a round of Quidditch practice, her cheeks flushed from the exertion and the cold air. She was walking with Hermione and Harry, discussing the upcoming match against Slytherin, when a group of older students—fourth years, she thought—walked by. Ginny was already on edge, her protective instincts always heightened when it came to her family. She had learned the hard way that there were people who would take advantage of the Weasley name, of the fact that they were a large family, close-knit and not always rich in gold, but rich in loyalty and love.

As they walked past, one of the boys, whose name Ginny didn’t know and didn’t care to, glanced at Harry. He smirked, his tone dripping with contempt.

“Bet you’re all so proud of your little hero, Weasley,” he sneered. “The Boy Who Lived. Always getting attention for something that’s not even his fault. It’s not like he had anything to do with it. He’s just... lucky. Must be nice to be famous for something you didn’t even do, huh?”

The words hit like a slap. Ginny’s immediate reaction was a flash of red-hot anger, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward, her voice rising with each word.

“Don’t talk about my brother like that,” Ginny snapped, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

The boy sneered, his friends laughing behind him. “Oh, here comes the little sister, ready to defend her big brother,” he mocked. “Must be nice to have the whole family backing you up... while the rest of us are stuck in the shadows.”

Ginny’s fists clenched at her sides. The urge to lash out was overwhelming. It wasn’t just about Harry anymore. It was about the constant jabs, the way people thought they could treat her family like they were beneath them. They weren’t some charity case. They weren’t weak. They were a family, and she would fight to the end for them. But this... this felt different. The weight of it all, the years of insults, the feeling of never being seen for who they were, not just the name or the expectations, it finally broke through.

“Don’t,” Hermione’s voice was steady, calm, but firm as she stepped in front of Ginny. She had her hands on Ginny’s arms, holding her back just enough to stop her from charging at the boy. Ginny could feel Hermione’s calmness, the way it steadied her, and for a moment, she almost wanted to fight against it. She was furious. She wanted to scream, to yell, to make this boy regret ever saying a word about her family. But Hermione’s presence reminded her that she didn’t need to stoop to their level.

“Ginny, don’t,” Hermione said softly, her voice laced with authority. “Let him say what he wants. He’s just trying to provoke you.”

Ginny’s breath came in sharp bursts, her chest tight with suppressed rage. She wasn’t sure if she could hold it in, if she could just let this pass. But Hermione’s hands on her arms were like an anchor, pulling her back from the edge of losing control.

Harry, standing a little behind them, was unusually quiet. He hadn’t spoken up, hadn’t said anything, and Ginny felt a pang of worry. He wasn’t one to usually back down from confrontation, but she could see the way his shoulders were slumped, his eyes distant, his lips pressed into a thin line. It hurt her to see him like this, to see him so weighed down by the cruelty of people who didn’t understand him, who never would.

“He doesn’t get to talk about you like that,” Ginny muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The fight hadn’t left her, but there was a new pain in her words, a frustration with the world around her. “He doesn’t get to treat you like that.”

Hermione gave her a sympathetic look, her hands gently brushing Ginny’s arms, grounding her. “I know,” Hermione said softly. “But he’s not worth it. You’re better than him, Ginny. We all are. Don’t let him pull you down to his level.”

Ginny bit her lip, feeling the weight of her anger still pressing down on her chest. “I just... I just want people to stop treating us like we’re different. Like we’re less than.”

Harry finally spoke, his voice quiet but raw. “We can’t change what other people think,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “We can’t control them. But we can control how we let them affect us.”

His words were simple, but they cut through the tension like a knife. Ginny looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of all the things he had been through, things that none of them fully understood. He was used to being the target. He was used to people like that boy talking about him, belittling him, making him feel like nothing more than a symbol. A trophy.

And yet, here he was, trying to comfort her. Trying to remind her that they had each other. That family, real family, didn’t crumble when people tried to tear them down. Harry had been through so much, more than any of them, and still, he was the one who held them all together.

Ginny’s fists unclenched. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to push away the anger that still simmered inside her.

“Maybe you’re right,” Ginny said, her voice calmer now, but still tinged with the remnants of her frustration. “Maybe he’s not worth it. But I can’t just sit back when people talk about you like that. Not about you, Harry.”

Harry smiled weakly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know, Gin. I know. And I’m glad you’re always here for me. But you don’t have to protect me all the time. You’ve got your own battles.”

Ginny shook her head, her determination not fading. “You’re family, Harry. And family doesn’t let each other face things alone.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, her gaze soft but firm. “Exactly. And you don’t have to fight every battle by yourself. We’re all here for you, all of us.”

The words hung in the air between them, a quiet reminder that they weren’t just friends. They were something more. They were a family, imperfect and struggling, but always standing together.

As the boy and his friends walked away, their laughter echoing in the distance, Ginny turned to her friends—her family. For a moment, the anger subsided, replaced by a sense of peace. She realized, with a clarity she hadn’t quite grasped before, that it wasn’t just about protecting her family. It was about letting her family protect her, too.

"Thanks," Ginny said quietly, meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry gave her a faint smile. “You don’t have to thank me, Gin. We’ve got each other. That’s what matters.”

Hermione’s smile was gentle as she nodded. “Exactly. We’re in this together. Always.”

Ginny felt a warmth spread through her chest at the words. Maybe they weren’t as invincible as they sometimes wanted to believe, but as long as they had each other, they could face anything. No one could take that away from them.

And that, Ginny thought, was enough.