Ginny was heading into the school, her black cloak seeming to repell the rain and hail. She held the hand of a small boy, her son (though no one could tell by looking), and was speaking to him. Despite the noise from the small hair, he nodded as they walked. Ginny glanced at Ally, but it was her four year old who stopped to look.
"Why are you outside?" The child asked, tilting his head to the side intently. He starred openly and Ginny gently squeezed his hand.