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Description
Half past five. On Monday, they're holding hands. I walk past and smile.
Half past five. On Tuesday, they're sharing an ice cream cone. Absolutely darling.
Half past five. On Wednesday, she's holding a boquet of roses.
And they’re smiling like there’s no tomorrow, or the day after that. But,
On Thursday, she's sitting alone: a newspaper in her trembling hands. "The War is Over!" the headlines scream.
And there are people, quietly whispering their sorrows and pities at her loss.

This photograph is actually an idea I got when I reread a fanfic I wrote a few years back. It's a Draco/Ginny fic, and basicallyy it's during the War, and yeap. Anywayy, screwed with the contrast a little. Taken in my backyard.

Description
Half past five. On Monday, they're holding hands. I walk past and smile.
Half past five. On Tuesday, they're sharing an ice cream cone. Absolutely darling.
Half past five. On Wednesday, she's holding a boquet of roses.
And they’re smiling like there’s no tomorrow, or the day after that. But,
On Thursday, she's sitting alone: a newspaper in her trembling hands. "The War is Over!" the headlines scream.
And there are people, quietly whispering their sorrows and pities at her loss.

This photograph is actually an idea I got when I reread a fanfic I wrote a few years back. It's a Draco/Ginny fic, and basicallyy it's during the War, and yeap. Anywayy, screwed with the contrast a little. Taken in my backyard.