A light flurry of snowflakes drifted across Ginny’s field of vision. Aimless, and apparently unaffected by gravity, they tossed, rising and falling with the wind until coming to rest on one of the barren branches in the garden. Occasionally one would land on the mullion in front of her nose. Sticking to its edge and adding to the collection,
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Stream of consciousness, done well, is very rare - I wouldn't worry about 'grammar' in the slightest - this was like listening to Ginny's thoughts. I thought you captured the passage of time and her weary impatience wonderfully in such a short piece, with the references back to Hogwarts and the interludes when she is thinking about what is going on downstairs interspersed with the close-ups of her at her post.
The Ron / Hermione snapshot - lovely. And this line was my favourite: "Winter snow and brisk pine, cold wool and melting ice crystals, all mixed up together,"
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The fact that you were caught up by the small details and setting means so much. I was afraid that it might be a bit too--oh, I don't know--slow, introspective, solitary--to be a good piece of fluff. But so many glowing reviews are proving me otherwise! I'm so pleased that you liked it. Thank you, thank you, thank you! :-)
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