A/N: This one is dedicated to Seren, who always gives the best challenges. Dangit, girl! Gimme a break! :)
A mother has many proud moments.
Her child's first words.
Her child's first steps.
Her child's first day of school.
The list goes on and on.
But a mother is never more proud than when her child fulfills her every expectation.
I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. After having six children, I had learned to read the signs, so to be completely honest, I wasn't very surprised. What did surprise me, however, was the fact that this child would be a girl.
A girl. Finally.
After six boys, I had given up hope of ever having a little girl to dress up, a little girl to play dolls with, a little girl who would want to do the things I wanted to do. Finally I would have a child who wouldn't just want to play in the dirt and make a mess and destroy the house at every turn.
The day she was born was the happiest day of my life. I love my boys, but this tiny, amazingly perfect little girl stole a special piece my heart from the very moment she looked into my eyes. I knew I would love her until the day I died.
I wanted to give her a strong name, a name that would tell the world what she could do. So I named her Ginevra, a form of Guinevere, the warrior queen. I knew my daughter would do great things – I could feel it in my bones.
From the very beginning, my daughter, my darling Ginny, was as strong as her namesake. Growing up with six brothers will do that to a girl. She wasn't exactly what I had expected – she didn't like to play with dolls, she didn't want to dress up in my high heels and makeup. She wanted to play Quidditch and make mudpies and climb trees and wrestle with her brothers. She was headstrong, determined. She knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. I was so proud of her.
The year that Ron went off to school was the hardest for Ginny. All of her brothers – her heroes – were gone, and she was left behind. I, on the other hand, was extremely happy. Finally I would have a chance to really get to know my daughter. She was at that stage in a young girl's life where it is alright to be friends with your mother. I savored every moment I spent with her.
When her day came, my heart broke. My baby was leaving me in pursuit of her education, her identity. No more afternoon teatimes in the tree house. No more spur-of-the-moment shopping trips to Diagon Alley. No more mother-daughter chats in the middle of the night over a bowl of ice cream.
But I knew that this was the beginning of her life – the birth of a warrior queen.
She got off to a rocky start in her path to greatness. Her child's heart led her astray. When I heard that she had been taken into the Chamber, I thought that she was gone forever. It was a horrible, all-consuming fear that haunted my every waking moment... until I was able to hold her in my arms again and pretend like she was still my baby girl.
But she wasn't a baby anymore. That year had been the end of innocence for Ginny. She wasn't as trusting as she had been. She became more reserved, nervous... maybe even a bit fearful. I didn't want that for her. Not for my little warrior.
But sometimes we learn from our mistakes.
It took her a few years to get back on her feet. By her fourth year, the warrior had returned. It was as though a light had been turned on inside of her. The spunky, tree-climbing girl had come back, coupled with a newfound maturity. She was once again ready to face whatever life would throw at her.
Sometimes life throws hard and fast, but this time – this time – she was ready.
I was so scared when Albus told me that she and Ron had gone to the Department of Mysteries. It was that extreme terror that I had only experienced once before, and I wasn't sure I was prepared to face it again.
They came back to me – alive – but I was still worried by what I saw.
I knew that Ronald would be alright. He was always so resilient – he could bounce back from anything. But Ginny had that look in her eyes again. The same look she had worn when Harry had pulled her from the Chamber. A look of anger, confusion, fear, and sorrow... only this time, she was trying valiantly to cover it up with a laugh and a smile.
She was trying to be strong for her fellow warriors.
I recognized it immediately. During the years after Tom Riddle, she became an expert at putting on a strong face, covering up her true feelings. She had learned how not to show her vulnerability – to anyone.
I knew she was hurting inside – hurting for her friends, hurting for herself. She would let herself break down later, when she was alone. Until then, she would be strong. She would be their rock. She would be their warrior queen, even if they didn't recognize it.
A mother is never more proud than when her child fulfills her every expectation.
FIN
A/N: I can just see people freaking out about the line, "Ginevra, a form of Guinevere". Here's my reasoning. In Spanish, Guinevere's name is Ginebra. Ginebra/Ginevra. Coincidence? I don't think so. If you have a better form of reasoning, I'd be glad to hear it and then ignore it. ;) But while you're at it, might as well leave a pretty little review! :)