Harry Potter 1. Ms Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter

**Chapter 1**

**Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter**

**Ginny's Age: 10**

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By this point, the books on the floor outnumbered the books on the bookshelf, but Ginny Weasely was looking for something. The piles on the hardwood continued to multiply before Ginny let out a triumphant squeal.

She flung both the heavy book and herself onto her bed. _The Boy Who Lived: the Downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ had been collecting dust for some while—Ginny had already memorized anything she cared about—but she wanted to make certain her memory was correct. The eager red-headed girl flipped to Chapter One: Harry Potter's Birth. The passage she was looking for appeared right at the beginning.

_Harry Potter is the son of James Alexander Potter, of the pureblood Potter family, and Lillian (Lily) Maybelline Evans, a muggle-born witch. Both parents were prominent members of the resistance against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Lily gave birth to Harry James Potter on July 31, 1980 in Godric's Hollow, the historic home of Godric Gryffindor and the Potter family line. _

Ginny grinned in satisfaction at the verification of her musings. Harry Potter had turned eleven-years-old exactly one month ago. Unless his years in hiding had turned him into a squib, which was unlikely for the wizard who defeated You-Know-Who at such a young age, he would be on the Hogwart's Express tomorrow to begin his magical education. Ginny became indignant when she realized that he would be in the same year as Ron, the most boring of her brothers in her opinion.

The cloud on her mood passed over quickly, and the youngest Weasley raced to her twin brothers' room. Ginny had six brothers and no sisters, creating quite the feisty little girl. With Bill and Charlie gone, Percy being an insufferable prat, and Ron being insufferably dull, Ginny had taken to spending a lot of time with the twins, Fred and George.

George was shoving school robes into his trunk when Ginny walked in, and Fred was tossing firecrackers down from a closet shelf. They were packing for their third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"You'll be going to school with Harry Potter," their sister announced as the made herself comfortable on George's bed.

"Is that right?" Fred replied, suddenly rather interested.

"Wicked!" George exclaimed.

"Yup," Ginny agreed. Most definitely wicked. "I wonder where he is. Dumbledore hid him away somewhere right after, well, you know."

"And you would remember, of course," George said. "Since you had already reached the wise old age of—

"Three months, was it?" Fred finished.

"Oh, be quiet. I do read, you know," Ginny informed them.

"You read?" Fred gasped.

"By yourself?" George questioned.

"Yes, it's rather entertaining. You should try it sometime," Ginny snapped. Her thoughts soon drifted back to Harry Potter. "I wonder what house he'll be in."

"Ron?" George asked. "He'd better be in Gryffindor! We'll have to beat him with a Quidditch bat if he isn't."

"He'll probably be in Slytherin," Fred sniggered. The Weasley family had been in Gryffindor House for generations.

"My money's on Hufflepuff," Ginny chimed in. "But I was talking about Harry Potter."

"His parents were in Gryffindor, weren't they?" offered Fred.

"I think so," said George. "Wasn't his dad Quidditch captain? Hope he's good." Fred and George had become beaters on the house team last year.

The boys then began to discuss the prospect of Harry Potter and their "dear little Ronikins" both being sorted into Gryffindor. Ginny's face soured at the idea and she sniffed in dissatisfaction. Her brothers noticed, conferring on the subject silently for a moment before pursuing the bait.

"Just curious," Fred started.

"Why you are so interested in the young Mister Potter?" George continued.

They boys glared at her as she felt a blush that rivaled her hair color her cheeks. After a moment, the girl announced, "If you must know, I am planning on becoming Ms. Ginevra Weasley, wife if the renowned Harry Potter."

George choked back a laugh but Fred continued the grilling, "Wouldn't that make Ginny Potter?"

"I am an empowered woman!" Ginny huffed. "If he wants us to have the same last name, he can become Harry Weasley! I am going to keep my name just the way it is once we're married, thank you very much! Besides, Ginny Weasley sounds much better than Ginny Potter."

"Harry Weasely doesn't sound so good either," George said.

"Reminds one entirely too much of a rodent," Fred agreed.

"Lovely name for a ferret, though."

"Or a weasel."

"A hairy weasel."

"Indubitably."

"Who names their kid Harry, anyway?"

"Maybe Harry's hairy."

"That would be incredibly sensible."

"And incredibly unoriginal."

"What is the world coming too?"

"I just don't know anymore, George. I just don't know."

"Neither do I, Fred. Neither do I."

Ginny sighed in frustration at the senseless banter. She wanted to draw the conversation back to Harry Potter, but was finding that difficult to do. She leapt at the chance when Ron wandered into the room, holding his rat and looking very lost.

"Harry Potter is going to be in your year," Ginny nearly yelled.

"Awesome!" Ron exclaimed, but in the back of his head he cursed the world for sending another person to show him up in everything. Ron always fell into the shadows.

Ginny then launched into a lengthy explanation of how she discovered this interesting fact and the likelihood of his being sorted into Gryffindor and every other tidbit about his life she possibly knew. She then proceeded to have an out loud discussion with herself about why he hadn't grown up in a prominent place in the wizarding world and where he could possibly be and whether or not he liked it and how much he knew about who he was and she wondered where he was right now and whether or not he was thrilled about Hogwarts.

She broke of from her speech practically panting and began a silent discussion about whether he'd ever be interested in poor little Ginny Weasley. She refused to think about the prospect of not ever even meeting him.

"Gin," Ron said. "I think you're a bit obsessed."

"Ginny's in love," cooed the twins in chorus. Even Ron colored, who had no reason to be embarrassed, colored at the idea of Ginny fancying a boy. Scabbers, his rat, began to squirm in his hand and Ron struggled to keep hold.

"Pathetic little thing, isn't it," Fred noticed.

"Pathetic fat thing," George corrected.

Ron frowned miserably at the hand-me-down pet.

"I believe we've got something to make him a bit more interesting," Fred grinned.

"A spell," George said.

"It'll turn him yellow," Fred told him.

"Show me!" Ron begged.

"We can't show you," George said.

"We can't do magic at home. But you can, since you haven't started school yet," Fred explained.

"We can tell you the spell, and you can show the kids on the train tomorrow," George said. Ron nodded eagerly, showing his willingness to learn magic.

Fred made a motion like holding a wand and said, "Just point your wand and say: Sunshine, daisies."

"Butter mellow," George added. Ginny could see that they were making this up off the top of their head, but she made no motion to inform Ron, the enthralled thickhead he was.

"Turn this—

"Stupid—

"Fat—

"Rat—

"Yellow!" they shouted the last word together, obviously pleased with their prank. Ron was bound to make a fool of himself to whoever he tried to show magic to.

"Thanks!" Ron said.

"Well, what are brothers for?" Fred said.

"If they don't make you look good." George grinned. Ron left the room to find his wand in a much more pleasant humor than before, and Fred and George continued their packing of questionable items along with their school things.

Ginny pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, orange hair falling around her thin frame. She set her imagination free on Harry Potter. What did he look like? What was he like? Would she ever see his forehead with its lightening bolt scar?

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**Disclaimer: I completely respect JKR and her rights to HP. Therefore any copyright infringement is completely unintended.**


	2. Mummy, It's HIM!

**Chapter 2**

**Mummy, It's HIM!**

**Ginny's Age: 10**

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**Read A/N at bottom please!**

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Ginny had a routine for September 1st that had started when she was two years old. The day would begin with a lot of pouting. When that failed to get people to notice her, she would begin whining. Just for the attention and dramatic effect, she would throw in some screaming, crying, temper tantrums, and hissy fits. How _dare_ they all go off to Hogwarts and leave her _here_!

As the last to pile into her family's old magical car, Ginny slammed the door dramatically and huffed in anger as the crossed her arms. Percy sat to her left and looked down at his sister with disgust.

"Really, Ginny," he reprimanded. "This is entirely unacceptable for a girl of your age. These sorts of fits are hardly appropriate for a _four_-year-old, much less a _ten_-year-old."

Ginny glared at him with more hostility than an angry Redcap. Percy took no notice, instead using this opportunity to display his impressive "maturity."

"You'll never become a Hogwarts' prefect with childish displays like that. Responsibility, knowledge of rank, and respect for authority are the keys to success, my sister." Percy puffed out his chest slightly, just in case anyone hadn't already seen the prefect badge pinned there. He wore it even without his school robes.

"In other words, my dear sister," Fred proclaimed in a rather dignified tone.

"The key to success," George adjusted imaginary glasses on his nose, "is the ability to be obnoxious."

Fred continued, "It is also useful to be a fun-sucking, tattle-tailing toad."

"But arrogance and lack of humor assist you most in the long run," George finished.

Ginny couldn't help but smile; Fred and George always cheered her up. She loved her brothers, even Ron—just maybe not Percy. The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she began crying again. They were leaving her! All of them! No one spoke the entire way to King's Cross Station. Ginny's sobs filled the empty void of conversation.

When they reached the station, Ginny became very vocal as she clung to her mother's hand. "You're leaving me! I'm being abandoned! No one loves me anymore! I want to go to Hogwarts _too_! Oh, mom! Mummy, please can I go? Pretty please, mom? I don't want to stay home!"

"I promise to write, Ginny," Ron said. Comforting his little sister was the only thing that could keep him from breaking down in tears himself. He was scared.

"Every day?" Ginny sniffed.

Ron hesitated, "How 'bout every week?"

The small girl nodded slowly. "George? Fred? Will you write every week too?"

They hesitated as well, but didn't want to disappoint their biggest fan. "Every month," they said together.

"Oh, you're rotten brothers!" she shouted. Several passersby took notice, but hurried away quickly. Seeing an older child behave that way embarrassed them more than it embarrassed Mrs. Weasley.

But Mrs. Weasley _was_ rather _annoyed_, "Oh, hush Ginny. You're going to make your brothers late. I can't even see where I'm going in such a crowd. The station is always packed with Muggles, of course. Now, what's the platform number?"

"Nine and three-quarters," Ginny told her before resuming her begging. "Mom, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right Percy, you go first." Ginny seethed within herself as her Percy, Fred, and George ran through the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. She was tired of being the baby. She was tire of being too little! She was tired of being told to be quiet!

Ginny's attention was caught by a small and skinny black-haired boy. He was nervous and awkward, and politely asked her mother how to get onto the platform. Poor boy must be a Muggle-born. Ginny watched him closely as he disappeared into the wall.

"He was cute!" Ginny squealed as the tugged on Mrs. Weasley's arm.

"Thought you were waiting for Harry Potter?" Ron teased. Ginny stuck her tongue out him, and was promptly scolded.

"He's abandoning me!" Ginny justified herself. "He could at least be kind!" But Ginny was not upset at all. She had forgotten that she might see Harry Potter here, and the idea thrilled her.

Releasing Ginny's hand, Mrs. Weasley gave her youngest son a hug and told him to wait for his mother and sister on the other side of the barrier. Ginny suddenly got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach—she hated running through the barrier. It frightened her so, but she felt a strong desire to race after her brothers after Ron went through the barrier with his cart. Grabbing her mother's hand again, she squeezed hard, closed her eyes, and ran. She was hit with the sounds of children and parents saying their goodbyes, and friends reuniting after a long separation.

"Oh, Neville! If your head wasn't screwed on…"

"Come on, Lee, let us see it! —EW!"

"Yes, mum, I've got my wand."

"Now, you promise to look after your brother at school?"

"If you blow up one more cauldron in potions… so help me I will send you to Durmstrong!"

Ginny sighed in relief; these were the sounds she was familiar with. She was always antsy when surrounded by Muggles. They were just so different, and she had to be careful not to mention magic around them.

Mrs. Weasley rushed over to Ron and began wiping dirt from his nose, much to the boy's protest.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronikins got somefink on his nosie?" Fred cooed.

"Shut up," Ron snapped. Ron got babied almost as much as Ginny, but Ginny felt he deserved it—he acted like a bit of a baby.

"Where's Percy?" asked mother of the red heads.

"He's coming now."

"Can't stay long, mother," Percy announced as loudly as possible. _Everyone_ _obviously_ cared about Percy the Prefect. "I'm up front, the _prefects_ have got two compartments to themselves—

"Oh, are you a _prefect_, Percy?" asked George. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

Fred took up the bait, "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it. Once—

"Or twice—

"A minute—

"All summer—

"Oh, shut up," Percy scowled. It was true that Percy hadn't missed an opportunity to inform the world of his prefect status. Now, that, Ginny would not miss. As her family babbled on, Ginny stood on her tiptoes and looked around for Harry Potter. This was difficult because she did not know what sort of boy she was looking for. Was he tall? Short? Big? Skinny? Blonde? Dark? Pale? Tan?

Her attention was called to the conversation when one of her brothers said, "You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?" asked her mother.

"Harry Potter," they chorused. _HARRY POTTER!_ Ginny screamed silently.

"Oh, Mom," Ginny begged, "Can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please…"

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in the zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

Ginny searched the windows of the train frantically for the adorable boy with the messy black hair. Oh, goodness, she had just met Harry Potter! _**The**__ Harry Potter!_ And he'd been so cute! No such boy was in the window, and Ginny started crying as her brothers boarded the train.

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!" George yelled.

Ginny laughed, but at the same time cried harder as the train began rolling and steam billowed through the platform. Running after it and waving to her brothers, Ginny thought again of the lonely months ahead until the boys were back for winter holidays. Through her tears, she saw a nervous boy in the window with a lightening bolt scar. Halting to a standstill, Ginny smiled at Harry Potter. Skipping back to her mother, Ginny wondered if maybe he needed some letters too? Ginny would be just the girl to see to that!

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**Disclaimer: Yes, I am JKR and am writing on... a fanfiction site... What's wrong with this statement? The part where it says "am" if you were wondering. "Am not" is more appropriate. **

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed! It makes me giddy. This story is probably going to go all the way through Ginny and Harry getting together, though months will be skipped at a time. Only important things will be highlighted. **


	3. An Emerald Sweater

**Chapter 3**

**An Emerald Sweater**

**Ginny's Age: 10**

The November air was crisp and a thin layer of leaves covered Ginny's home, the Burrow. A fire crackled and glowed in the Weasley's kitchen, and a kind, soft women sat at the big table. Ginny danced around her mother impatiently. Mrs. Weasley laughed out from the center of her core. She sat with a pot of ink, several envelopes, and a stack of parchment.

"So," Ginny asked, "Who are you writing to now?"

"I'm finishing up my letter to Percy," Mrs. Weasley smiled.

"Oh," Ginny failed miserably at concealing her obvious disappointment. "Tell him I say 'hello.'"

"I will, sweetheart," said the mother with amusement. Her hand moved deliberately across the page, signing her love with a final flourish. Leisurely, she creased the letter and slipped it into an envelope. Closing the flap seemed to take a millennia, and she dripped the wax with such precision that Ginny nearly blew up as she peered over her mother's shoulder. The young girl bit her lip to keep herself from an outburst. Mrs. Weasley turned to look at her daughter with a smile on her face, thinking of the days when she had been young and anxious.

Ginny couldn't help herself as she cried out, "Mother, you're doing this on purpose!"

"What am I doing on purpose, sweetie?" the woman laughed. Ginny scowled and narrowed her eyes. As much as Molly Weasley was enjoying this, she knew it was torturing the young girl. "Would you like me to write to Ron now?" she questioned with patience and feigned innocence.

Ginny grinned and nonchalantly replied, "If you want." She began skipping around the table and whistling a cheery tune. Once again becoming impatient, Ginny peeked over her mom's shoulder and read the letter so far.

_Dear Ron,  
How has your third month of school been going thus far? Well, I hope. Now, unfortunately, we must talk about this troll incident. I am not even going to begin to attempt to understand your frame of mind when you decided to go troll hunting. Seeing as you've always been a somewhat reasonable boy, I am going to choose to believe you had a horrible one-time lapse of judgment, and you will never behave so stupidly again. If I am wrong, you may bid farewell to ever flying on a broomstick again. _

Ginny could see her mother was going to need some prodding to discuss the subject that was of particular interest to herself. "Maybe you should ask about Harry Potter? Didn't Ron say he helped take down the troll?" Ginny had had a rare moment of pride in her brother when she heard about the troll. She wished more than anything that she could have seen a real live troll.

"Ah, yes!" Mrs. Weasley proclaimed. "Thank you for reminding me, dear. You always do seem to remember Harry!" Her daughter blushed at the implications and noted to herself that her mother had the confidence to refer to Harry Potter by his first name. Ginny and her mum had always been very close, even more so now that she was the only one at home. Mrs. Weasley had been just like Ginny in her younger days, and understand more about her daughter than the girl understood about herself. She had often been infatuated with boys as Ginny was now, and loved to watch Ginny become awkward and excited at the mention of Harry Potter.

In her long script, Mrs. Weasley added:

_And how has Harry been? You seem to mention him often along with that girl, Hermione. Does Harry have a place to go home to for the holidays? I'd offer for him to stay here, but I'm afraid you'll be staying at school this year with your brothers. Your father and I are visiting Charlie in Romania._

"We're visiting Charlie in Romania?" Ginny asked.

"Sorry dear," Mrs. Weasley apologized. "You're not. You'll be staying with your Aunt Muriel." Ginny made a face of disgust, but kept her opinions to herself. Satisfied that Harry Potter had been inquired about in the letter, Ginny snatched her cloak and slipped out the door. Her feet brought forth crunches and snaps from the cold, dry ground as she made her way to the broom shed, hugging her cloak tight against the chill.

She did not like having to rely on Ron's letters to hear news of Harry Potter, but she was far too frightened of writing the famous boy herself. What would she say? Ginny spoke aloud as the contemplated what she would write in her imaginary letter.

"Hello, my name is Ginny Weasley. I believe you've become friends with my brother. I can't imagine why. What I really wanted to say is that I quite admire you, and I have the most pathetic schoolgirl crush on you. Yes, I know I've never even talked to you."

Ginny sighed. Everything about her situation was dreadfully hopeless, yet she still retained hope. Even she thought herself to be a crazy little girl. Reaching the broom shed, Ginny pulled out a hairpin. Fred and George had taught her a fascinating Muggle trick of using a hairpin to unlock locks. They didn't reckon she'd be breaking into their broom shed with that piece of advice.

Though she had always dreamed of playing Quidditch, her passion for flying had become even more fervent when she discovered that Harry Potter had made Seeker on the Gryffindor house team as a First Year. Ginny had always hoped to play Seeker; she was small and light, as most ten-year-old girls are. Ginny stuck the hairpin through her ponytail, grabbed the best Cleansweep that was left in the shed, and mounted it. Kicking her heels against the dirt and taking up into the clear air, she felt free. Her brothers teasing, her parents' babying, and her pitiful obsession with Harry Potter stayed neglected on the ground.

Dodging amidst trees and performing difficult stunts, Ginny dived and soared. She'd wait until the last possible second to avoid unthinkable danger and shattered bones. This was her practice for becoming a Seeker, since she was far too careful to release a snitch so close to a Muggle town. After executing a magnificent loop-di-loop, her cloak flew open and the biting wind hit her like a sharp slap across the face. Ginny stumbled to the ground, disappointed that the season for broom riding was coming to an end.

Grudgingly, the child with the flaming red hair locked the broom shed and ran back to her house with a clearer head after her ride. After hanging up her cloak, she found her mother knitting by the fireside.

"What are you making?" she inquired.

"Sweaters for the boys' Christmas presents," answered the kindly woman before resuming her gentle humming. Though she could easily construct the sweaters by magic, she preferred to make them by hand, with love.

Ginny debated whether to voice her thoughts, deciding she would. "Do you think Harry Potter would like a sweater?" she squeaked. Coloring at the bemused expression on Mrs. Weasley's face, she quickly added, "The Muggles he lives with may not send him anything. It's Christmas, though, and I think he should have something."

Ginny breathed an internal sigh of relief when her mother said, "So do I. I was already planning on making him one, though you're welcome to if you'd like. What color do you think he'd want?"

"Emerald!" she shouted. Ginny had put a lot of thought into this. It would match his green eyes and look just lovely with his raven hair.

"There's some green yarn and an extra set of needles in the basket," said Mrs. Weasley as she nodded toward a chair with a wicker basket on it.

Ginny snatched the yarn and needles, and began to cast on her stitches. Unlike Molly, Ginny could not make the sweater by magic, but she would not have anyway. She preferred to make the sweater for Harry Potter by hand, with love.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, universe, places, or even parts of the plot. In some chapters I even borrow dialogue. This is my homage to JKR. **

**A/N: You Harry/Ginny people are much more enthusiastic with the reviewing than Lily/James people. Thank you! If you like Lily/James, check out my finished story, Rejection. **


	4. The Philosopher's Stone

**Chapter 4**

**The Philosopher's Stone  
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**Ginny's Age: 10**

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An extremely large and extremely unpleasant looking man with a purple face stood beside a tall, sharp looking woman and a fat, petrified-looking, blonde boy. The man narrowed his eyes as he looked around the platforms nine and ten at King's Cross. Upon noticing the attire of company he was with, his frown became more pronounced, if that was physically possible. Ginny Weasley nudged closer to her mother—she didn't like that man very much. He muttered something unintelligible about, "_those_ people" with their "funny clothes and weird ways." Deciding not to dwell on the subject any longer, Ginny turned to her mom.

"Are they going to get here soon?" she whined.

"Soon enough, dearie," answered her mother.

"'Soon enough' is not good enough!" the girl grumbled. She had been marking down the days on her calendar for over a month. Today was the day that the Hogwarts Express arrived at Platform 9 ¾. Today was the day that her brothers came back from school. Presumably, a certain young boy with raven hair and startlingly green eyes would be coming off the platform as well.

"Mom," Ginny asked, "Do you think Harry Potter will be here?"

"Well, yes. I imagine he has to come home for the holidays, doesn't he?" was the reply.

The grumpy fat man snorted at the overheard discussion of Harry Potter. Ginny most definitely did not like this man.

"You know, Mum, next year I'll get to go to school."

"Yes, you will, Ginny. It will be dreadfully quiet at home, now won't it?"

"Oh, you'll survive without me," the young girl reassured. _And I'll be just fine at Hogwarts_, she thought. _Especially if Harry Potter becomes my friend._

Several boys and girls seemed to appear out of thin air near the crowd Ginny was in.

"Their back!" Ginny squealed. She gently bit her lower lip in concentration as she searched the area. Where was Harry Potter?  
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!" she shouted and pointed and bounced up and down. "Harry Potter! Look, Mom! I can see—

Mrs. Weasley cut her off. "Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Ginny put her hand down but continued to jump and squeal.

"Busy year?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Ginny stopped squealing to hear HIM speak.

"Very," said Harry Potter. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley." Ginny turned red with pride. She made that sweater! She watched in awe as her brother bid farewell to Harry Potter and a bushy brunette. Her eyes widened even more when Harry walked off with that grumpy man and what appeared to be the man's wife and son. The poor boy! Having to live with Muggles like that! As the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared into the crowd, Ginny began the interrogation.

"What's he like?" she turned to Ron.

"Who?"

"You know…… Harry Potter," she whispered his name.

"Oh, him. He's a good mate."

"Is it true about the Philosopher's Stone?" Ginny asked as the family made their way out of the station.

"Umm, yeah."

"Oh, tell me, please!" she squealed.

Ron didn't need to be told twice. He launched into the tale full force, taking particular care to play up his part in the giant chess game. Ginny did not really care about that as much as she cared about Harry Potter. She was in awe of everything she was told of him, and even more in awe of the casual way Ron, and Fred and George, and even Percy spoke of "my friend, Harry." She dreamed of being able to refer to Harry Potter as her friend, as oppose to the object of her obsession.

For the next solid month or so, Ginny begged to be told the story of the troll and the Philosopher's Stone and You-Know-Who and the one and only and wonderful Harry Potter

"He must be so brave!" she proclaimed with great longing. Ginny began to compare him to the princes in the Muggle fairy tales she loved. "Such a wonderful Quidditch player, too," she told anyone who would listen. "And a very powerful wizard. Always protecting his friends. And fighting You-Know-Who twice!"

"Believe it or not, Ginny" Fred told her one day.

"But we already know all this about young Harry," said George.

"Because we informers of you as to his many brilliant attributes in the first place," Fred said.

"I know," replied an indignant Ginny. "But he's just _so_ courageous! Oh, please, tell me about him again."

Harry Potter became nonstop discussion at the Burrow, courtesy of Ginny. When Ron suggested a game of Quidditch with Fred and George, Ginny piped up. "Can I play, too? Oh, please, can I play?"

"Not likely!" Ron scoffed.

"Why not?" demanded his little sister.

"Because you're ten, you're a girl, and you're a baby," Ron said.

"Besides," George added, "You don't even know how to ride a broom."

_That's what you think! _Ginny almost shouted before remembering to hold her tongue. Instead she snapped at him, "Harry Potter would let me!"

"Why would Harry want to play with a little nobody of a girl?" Ron retorted, but her words had hurt him deep. He knew that Harry would let her; he was a just nice guy like that. Once again, Ron was reminded that he was second best—even in the eyes of his sister. What he didn't know was how Ginny admired the ease in which he spoke of Harry Potter. They were actually _friends_.

"When I grow up, I'm not going to be a nobody," Ginny said, before stalking off to her room. Slamming the door with as much force as she could, she contented herself to brood in seclusion. Stupid brothers! She wasn't a baby! Ginny told herself that someday, everyone would know her name and no one would underestimate her. She would be a powerful witch, and her family would be terribly proud. Even Harry Potter would have to take notice.

Ginny heard voices through her open window and realized it was her brothers. Carefully, creeped to the windowsill and attempted to listen closer.

"You've got to give our poor little sister a break," Fred said.

"She's insufferable!" Ron defended himself.

"She's smitten with him," George agreed. "Poor Harry. Everyone fancies the great Harry Potter."

"Why doesn't anyone fancy us, George?" asked Fred.

"Indeed, we are underappreciated and overlooked!" George declared. "But we're such stupendous chaps! They should be flocking."

"Oh, stop it!" Fred said. "You're making me blush!"

"So are you saying we should have asked her to play with us?" Ron asked his brothers.

"Are you joking?" George laughed.

"She'd run smack into a tree!" said Fred. The boys chuckled at Ginny's expense, but in all fairness, they didn't know she heard them.

This didn't matter to Ginny; she hated their teasing. "I want a new family!" she grumbled. "I want to be a Potter!"

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**Disclaimer: I promise I'm not JK Rowling. And since she has, or so I've heard, given permission for Harry Potter fanfiction to be written, it should be obvious that I intend no infringement of any copyrights. (I love the word infringement. Don't you? Infringement. Even just fringe. Fringe. Taste the word.)**

**A/N: Sorry it's a kind of lousy chapter…. It'll get better soon, I promise. Oh and thanks to all whom have reviewed—particularly Blue-Eyed Chica who has faithfully reviewed every chapter of this story and my last one. **


	5. The Diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle

**Chapter 5**

**The Diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle**

**Ginny's Age: 11**

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**A/N: Read, review, and be happy.**

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Ginny was curled into a chair of the Gryffindor common room with her new diary. She had just been sorted into Gryffindor House earlier that day, but she was not as happy as she could be. Either Harry Potter and Ron had not been on the Hogwarts Express, or they had been hiding from her. She had sat in a compartment with a second year Gryffindor boy named Neville and a first year, like herself, named Luna. The boy had been rather shy, but nice nonetheless. Luna was more talkative—though she was more than slightly odd. Ginny was sure she had made a friend in Luna, even though she had seen her sorted into Ravenclaw.

The common room was abuzz with rumors about Ginny's brother and his friend. They said that Harry Potter and Ron had _flown_ a car to Hogwarts and crashed it into—not just any tree—but the Whomping Willow. Though most said the idea of a flying car was ridiculous and illegal, Hermione Granger and the Weasley children glanced knowingly if not nervously between each other. Ginny had soon decided that she liked Hermione; she was like a sister Ginny never had.

She wrote this in her diary, and unlike most diaries, her diary wrote back.

_**It's good to have someone to confide in. You know that you always have me to confide in , Ginny. **_

_Yes, I know, Tom, _she wrote_. You understand me so well. Especially about Harry. I think I can call him Harry now that I've talked to him. Everybody here seems to call him just Harry. I like the way it sounds. Harry. Oh, Tom, he's so wonderful._

_**He sounds rather incredible from your stories. Tell me, if he defeated the great Lord Voldemort when he was one year old, how many years has it been?**_

_Please don't say that name! And do not call You-Know-Who "great" because he's not great at all! He's terrible! But anyway, it's been eleven years, Tom. That makes him a second year and I'm just a first year! Will he ever be interested in pathetic little me? I acted like a klutzy chipmunk whenever he saw me! I dropped everything and ran into things, and he saw me in that horrible frilly nightdress! I could barely even talk at all! When I did talk to him, I actually defended him as if he needed to be stood up for. What a silly and stupid thing to do! _

_I had an entire month to get to know him and I spent it staring at him like a dumbstruck bunny and peaking through windows! Pathetic is the only word that can really describe me, Tom!_

_**I know it can be hard. Don't give up! Get to know him and tell me all about it. But make certain th—**_

Ginny did not see what more Tom had to say for right then, a great roar of applause filled the common room as a worn out looking Harry and Ron clambered through the portrait hole, followed by a rather peeved Hermione. Slamming the book, she leapt to her feet and inched toward the famous pair of friends. She wanted so badly to speak to them, but they didn't even look her way.

Ginny did not speak very directly to Harry the next day or the week after that… or the month after that. The extent of their contact was when he would say "hello" as they passed in the hall, her face would turn the color of her hair, and she would mumble a reply and scamper away to tell Tom about the encounter. Tom was always there to console her about the way her brothers ignored her at school, only speaking to her to tease her. He listened patiently as she wrote about her trouble making friends and the difficult assignments during potions class. Most of all, he was very sympathetic to her plight with Harry.

Ginny was thinking about this as she left to Halloween feast at eight o'clock on October 31st. She walked towards Gryffindor tower with a boy named Colin and headed straight to her dormitory to write in her diary some more.

_The Halloween feast was lovely, but Harry wasn't there. Neither were Ron and Hermione. I told Hermione about how I feel about Harry, and she told me she already knew. That made me feel simply awful because Harry probably knows as well, but Hermione told me that boys are stupid and Harry didn't know at all. But Harry couldn't possibly be stupid. _

Ginny's mind became fuzzy. Her own consciousness seemed to be pushed to the back of her brain as she rose from her four-poster bed and made her way out the portrait hole towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

It was two hours later when Ginny looked around the girl's dormitory. To her confusion, it was dark outside and there were three other girls in the room with her, but her diary still lay open on her lap. Though Alyson Montgomery was asleep, Annie and Molly looked at her curiously.

"Are you alright?" Annie asked nervously.

"What?" Ginny said. "Oh, yes. I'm alright. Must have dozed off."

Molly tilted her head in uncertainty. "You just came up the stairs. Seemed a little dazed. Sure you don't need to see Madame Pomfrey?"

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. I think I'll get some air." Ginny shut the book nervously and hurried out of Gryffindor tower.

Annie called after her, "It's 10:30! Watch for curfew in half of an hour!" Where had she been for so long? More pressing, why didn't she remember?

Heading toward the Great Hall, where some students still lingered from the Halloween feast, Ginny heard a commotion in the Entrance Hall.

"You'll be next mudbloods!" a boy sneered with disgusting pleasure. Yuck! That word sent shivers down her spine. Ginny gasped when she turned the corner—a crowd of students was huddled together near the wall. Headmaster Dumbledore was inspecting what appeared to be Filch's cat—and Filch's cat appeared to be dead.

"The poor kitty," she whispered, but she wondered more how that could happen. Who would want to kill Filch's cat?

Ginny gasped again and threw her hand to her mouth when she saw the wall. There was blood smeared across it, and it read:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN

OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

Ginny did not know exactly what the Chamber of Secrets was, but she knew it was bad. Tears burned her eyes for no reason at all until a pale whimsical girl appeared beside her.

"Hello, Luna," Ginny whispered, for she fear wouldn't allow her to talk any louder.

"Hello, Ginny," she replied. "Quite a shock, isn't it?" though she seemed extremely calm. "My father says there's a conspiracy that Hogwarts teachers have known exactly where the Chamber of Secrets is for generations. There's an underground Hippogriff racing league and the school has made quite a sum off of it."

Ginny nodded numbly, and Luna began to leave, but she stopped. "You've got paint on your robes. It looks nice."

The Ravenclaw girl skipped away merrily as Ginny stared at the red paint all down her front.

"How did that get there?" she whispered. She felt shaky and nervous—like she wasn't in proper control. The red headed little girl did not know that in weeks to come, she would grow even more skittish, confused, and frightened. She asked herself again and again, "What have I done?"

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**Disclaimer: I'm not JKR.**

**A/N: Thanks for those who read, reviewed, alerted, favorited, etc. Don't be afraid to completely bash my story. Trust me, my friends and I insult each other's work all the time. I can take it. Everybody has an opinion… so everybody should review… even just to say that it's pure mediocrity.**


	6. Possessed

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Chapter 6

**Possessed**

**Ginny's Age: 11**

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It had happened again—except this time it had been even less of her own free will. Ginny sat on her bed crying over the diary she didn't even remember opening. Another student had been attacked, Ginny knew she had done it, but she had had no control of the action and now held no memory of it. This time, it had been the girl Percy had been with, and it had also been Hermione. That wretched diary had caused her to petrify Hermione. She did not know how she'd done it, but Ginny knew she had.

Alone in the dormitory, Ginny sobbed out her frustrations. "I haven't even written in you since February! And before that it had been months! Why are you doing this to me?"

Ginny knew the exact date she had last written in Tom's diary, it was February 25th. After those two Gryffindor boys had been attacked, Ginny grew to fear the diary. She purposefully left it at school over the Christmas holidays, and tried to flush it down the toilet shortly after arriving back at school. For several weeks, she felt free. Her time was spent chatting with her dorm mates and going to the lake with Luna. She'd visited Hermione in the hospital wing, but stayed behind the curtain because Hermione didn't want to be seen in "such a horrid state."

On Valentine's Day, she carefully composed a song to have a dwarf anonymously sing to Harry. Tailing close behind, Ginny wanted to see how Harry would react. She couldn't suppress the fantasy that Harry would know she had sent it and admit he felt the same way and they would hold hands while skipping towards the lake. Ginny remembered the silly hope and cried harder, though she was all teared out and her sobs were dry. Harry had been embarrassed by her valentine, Malfoy had made fun of her and told Harry that she had sent the valentine, and Harry had had the book.

"Why can't you just go away!" she whimpered and buried the book at the bottom of her trunk. Ginny desperately wished that she had not written in it after stealing it from Harry, but she just _had_ to know what Tom had told Harry. Tom knew every secret about her. He knew what she thought about her family, her very few friends, her teachers, her dreams, and her fears… her feelings for Harry. Tom even knew her fear of the diary, her fear of him. And with the knowledge of that fear he knew the control he had over her.

No longer did Ginny have to write in the diary, she just had to fear it for him to be able to take control. She was weak.

Ginny was weak and she was scared, and that was why she wouldn't confide in anyone. The once fiery girl was nervous and jittery. As she lay in the Chamber of Secrets, saying goodbye to the school she loved, she hated herself for all she had done and all she had failed to do.

She desired to scream her anger out loud in the Chamber, but Tom was there and she refused to give him any more power. Instead, she silently cursed at him as she waited to die. _Because I couldn't stand up to my brothers and my parents, and because I was too afraid to be myself around Harry, I lost control. He could have spilled all my secrets for all I care! _She thought bitterly_. It would be better than this, dying alone. _

As cynical thoughts overcame her, and Tom's twisted glee became more vocal, she knew she was dying. As consciousness slipped away, her last thought was that her own fear should never stand in the way of she wanted, but it was too late for that now.

After what felt like a long sleep, Ginny felt heavy. Harry's face swam before her eyes. _Oh, crap_, she thought. _I really am dead._ Moving to sit up, her had felt light and her stomach twisted in agony. Everything was blurry and she felt like fainting. _If this is death, _she thought_, it's really rather awful. Even if Harry is here. But, where is here? Where am I?_

She looked around at the dead basalisk, the crusting blood on Harry's robes, and that horrible diary, now soaked in blood and venom. Ginny came to the sudden realization that she was not dead. She was very much alive, Harry had saved her, and by this time, probably knew what she had done. Everything she'd done. Like the part where she tried to send a deadly monster on one of his best friends, and gave his worst enemy a way back into power.

"Harry—oh, Harry—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy—it was me, Harry—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over—and—how did you kill that—that thing? W-here's Riddle? The last thing I remember is him coming out of the diary—

"It's all right," Harry said, and after that Ginny just gave up on thinking clearly. Looking back, she was pretty sure she babbled about Hogwarts, she had been thrilled to see Ron, and she flew out of the Chamber by holding Ron's hand and being carried by a bird. Professor Lockhart was there, and she had had to explain herself to Dumbledore, and her parents were furious, but they embraced her warmly. She was alive, Riddle was dead, and Harry Potter had saved her life. Now isn't that embarrassing?

It was because of this embarrassment that Ginny became even quieter around Harry. The progress she had made that year completely diminished after he saved her. But he saved her! He must still be so wonderful! As her third year ended, she decided that perhaps, Hermione was right. _(Isn't she always?)_ Maybe if she saw some other boys... Luckily she had her pick of starry eyed admirers. That Michael Corner was rather nice...

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**Disclaimer: Not only is the universe not from me but neither is some of the dialogue. **

**A/N: YUP! You guessed it, I'm about to skip two years. Ginny only makes like four appearances in those books and I think I just summed up what she does during that time. Her fourth year is fun. I mean, Michael Corner, the D.A., Cho Chang… things get interesting. Crtique is appreciated!**

**Love, Mebmarker24**


	7. Friends

**Chapter 7**

**Friends**

**Ginny's Age: 14**

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Ginny laid sideways across her bed in 12 Grimmauld Place, letting her head drop near the floor and reading a copy of Witch Weekly when an owl talon rapped against the window. Flipping to an upright position, she went to retrieve the brown owl and the message tied to it. The hand on the weather worn parchment was familiar, and brought a smile to her lips- Michael Corner.

_Hello Ginny,_

_I hope your having a nice holiday at the Burrow. It's hard to believe we'll be heading back to school so soon, but I can't complain very much—I miss you and can't wait to see you. Have you read the Daily Prophet recently? The stuff they're saying about Harry Potter and Dumbledore is mad! What Harry is saying is a bit nuts, but he always seemed like a good bloke—never mental. Well, Dumbledore seems a bit off his rocker, but he's a bloody amazing wizard. I don't even know what to believe. _

_Hey, would you like to meet up in Diagon Alley? Write soon, love._

_--Michael _

The letter made her sad; he thought she was at the Burrow. He didn't know whether to believe the Prophet or Harry and Dumbledore. He didn't know about the Order of the Phoenix, or that You-Know-Who really was back. And she couldn't tell him anything.

She couldn't tell him that Harry was in more danger than from the Prophet, he was in danger of expulsion. He was also due to arrive here any moment now. In fact, was he late? Right as this thought passed through her conscience, she heard angry shouts coming from across the hall. _Oh, he's here!_ She did not blame him at all for being angry; not only was he in incredible danger, but he didn't even realize that there was a secret order trying to protect him and trying to fight against You-Know-Who. Poor boy, he was more in the dark than that what Fred and George's powder they were developing could do.

She set aside her letter from Michael, delaying her response full of lies, and wandered over to Ron's bedroom. Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred, and George were all people who knew the secrets of her life that her friends at school couldn't know. Well, there were several secrets they didn't know. Aside from Hermione, they did not know about Michael, and they did not know that she still held feelings for Harry. Not even Hermione knew some things.

Only Ginny knew that many of her "friendships" were worthless. She was a popular girl, but only a small group of people understood the real Ginny. Luna, Hermione, even Neville, as well as Ron and Harry, and Fred and George, were her true friends. Yes, she had ventured to include Harry among that list. Ever since the Yule Ball, when she started to become closer to Michael, she had been able to speak to Harry. He was really a nice person to talk to.

Though she had dreamed he would ask her to the Yule Ball, she decided that, perhaps, they were destined to be friends. So she opened the door to Ron's room and greeted Harry as a friend.

"Oh, hello, Harry! I thought I heard your voice." _All of Britain heard your voice._

She then turned to Fred and George, explaining how Extendable Ears wouldn't be able to get passed the Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door. The conversations were fun and lighthearted, but there was a constant gloom amongst the teenagers—particularly Harry. She wanted nothing more than to give him a big hug and tell him it will all be alright, but she didn't believe that would be the wisest choice in the current setting of her brothers. Ginny also didn't know if everything would be alright. How could it be when You-Know-Who was on the rise and Percy had practically been disowned? How could anyone stop Harry's expulsion or help him keep his wand? It was a dismal situation, but the summer was rather fun for a dismal situation. Hermione was always there to talk to, her brothers had accepted that their sister could perform one hell of a Bat-Bogey Hex, and Harry, though often a bit depressing, was always with her.

They cleaned the house, made fun of Snape, got forced to test Skiving Snackboxes, and laughed together. It was wonderful, and Ginny lies to herself were so convincing, she almost forgot that she wanted Harry to be more than a friend.

_Michael is my boyfriend_, she told herself all summer. She was reminded of how much she really did like him as a boyfriend when he, quite literally, ran into him shortly after boarding the Hogwarts Express. Fred and George had already hurried off, and Ron was speaking with Harry and Hermione, so she entwined her hand in his and hugged him.

"I've promised to sit with some of the guys, Ginny," he said. "Do you think you can find a compartment?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I think I'll be able to battle the great big train all by my lonesome."

"There's a trouper," he chuckled and gave her a quick kiss on the check. Not quite satisfied with that, Ginny kissed him squarely on the mouth, but only for a moment. Ron and Hermione were parting with Harry, and this was not a display she wished for Ron _or_ Harry to see.

Instead, Ginny saw the look of abandonment on Harry's face, and lead him to a compartment. They met Neville along the way. She nearly smacked him at his obvious fear of sitting with Luna, but decided she'd rather they get to know each other than give Neville a bloody nose.

Ginny pushed them into the compartment. "Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats? Thanks." Awkward silence. "Had a good summer, Luna?" she would force conversation if she had too.

Luna, was staring at Harry, and responded without transfering her gaze. "Yes. Yes, it quite enjoyable, you know. _You're_ Harry Potter." Luna was not star struck, as Ginny had been up until several months ago. She merely felt the need to clarify these, or inform Harry, in case he was unaware of whom he was.

"I know I am," replied Harry. There was now a discussion, albeit a very humorous and oddly awkward discussion. Even more odd was the funny looking plant that Neville was holding. Ginny would have to say that the peak of oddness was the smell of liquid that spurted forth from the plant, and all over the occupants of the compartment.

She laughed as Harry spat some of the green stuff from his mouth. That was when Cho Chang appeared in the doorway.

"Oh… hello, Harry," she mumbled. "Um… bad time?" She was very pretty, and Ginny cringed when she saw the way Harry reacted.

"Oh… hi," Harry gaped at the gorgeous Asian girl.

"Um…" Cho said. "Well… just thought I'd say hello...'bye them." She scurried away down the passage. Harry stared at the space she has just been occupying, as if he hadn't comprehended her departure. He then looked around at Neville, Luna, and Ginny. Harry's feelings were obvious; he was embarrassed by his companions. _Stupid, boy. If you want a girlfriend, I'm right here. Or am I? I suppose even if he would like to date me, Michael is stopping him. Or more likely, his feelings for Cho are stopping him. He prefers the 6__th__ year with glossy black hair over the spunky redhead. Darn you, Harry Potter._

"Never mind," Ginny said, waving off the situation with a cool exterior. "Look, we can get rid of all this easily. Scourgify!"

_Harry and Cho!_ He was still drooling over her when Ron and Hermione came in. Ginny became sullen for a while, but being surrounded by her friends comforted her. Ginny remembered a day in the common room last year with Hermione.

"_Being a friend can be just as wonderful as being a girlfriend."_

_"How would you know?" Ginny spat back. It was when Harry was desperately looking for a date for the Yule Ball, and didn't even look her way. _

_Hermione sorrowfully turned toward Ron. "He hasn't got a date either. So I guess I'm going with Victor." Her weary smile was pathetic. _

_"And I'm going with Neville." Ginny smiled. "I reckon I got the shorter end of the stick against Mr. Hunkie-Quidditch-Story."_

_Hermione laughed. "He's a good friend, though. You'll have a good time."_

_"Yes, I know I will. He is a good friend. For now, they'll both be good friends." She thought of Neville as her friend, and Harry as well._

_"Yes, they all are good friends," Hermione glanced at Ron. _

_Ron called to her, "Hermione, can you help me with this Potion's essay?"_

_"Sure."_

_"I love you, Hermione! You're a great _friend_."_

_"Yes, well, what are friends for?"_

Friends.

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Any in this chapter anyway. Don't own any places either.**

**A/N: Sorry If you didn't like the skip, but I don't really want to write about Ginny's friends other than Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, etc. So I skipped to the year of the DA. Hope you don't mind.**


	8. Cho Chang! Hmph!

**Chapter 8**

**Cho Chang-- Hmph!**

**Ginny's Age: 14**

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"Oh, get off it, Michael! Just Stun me, will you?" Ginny shouted as he fell to the floor from her jinx. He'd been falling to the floor the whole D.A. meeting, and Ginny hadn't been hit once.

"I really am trying, Ginny! You're just more powerful than I am!" He struggled to his feet.

"I am not! And even if I were, you'd be able to get me just fine if I threw my wand aside. Here! Now I'm not even armed. Have at it." She opened her arms wide in complete defenselessness.

"Love, I'm not going to Stun you or hex you or jinx you or in any way hurt you."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded. "Because I'm a girl?"

He smiled and began walking towards her. "Because you're my girl."

Before he could wrap his arms around her waist, Ginny snatched her wand from the floor. "Levicorpus!"

"Aw, Ginny! Come on!"

"Michael Arthur Corner, you are not coming down until you swear on the ghosts of Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw that you will severely disable me with either a hex or a jinx. We'll work our way up to Stunning me. Everything clear?"

He struggled in the air, debating whether it would be fruitless to reason with his girlfriend, stubborn little thing that she was. "I already told you, Gin, I couldn't do that to you!"

With a flick of her wand, Ginny caused Michael to flip through the air several times before pausing him with his head below his heels. "Alright! I swear on the ghosts of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw! And Hufflepuff too while we're at it! Might as well throw in Slytherin too. Now put me down!"

He was gracefully lowered to the ground by the small redhead with a smug grin. She placed her wand in the pocket of her pleated skirt and waited for whatever he would do to her. "Rictusempra," he pointed his wand at her with little enthusiasm.

Ginny giggled for only several seconds before the spell wore off. "That was weak! I know you can do better; don't pretend. Now, watch this. Rictusempra!" She roared the spell and Michael fell to the floor in hysteric laughter.

"That was a good one, Ginny," Michael gasped after nearly three minutes.

"Yes, it was," came a voice from behind Ginny, causing her to jump.

"Oh! Hello, Harry. You scared me!"

"Sorry." He apologized. "But, Ginny, if that's the sort of Tickling Charm you can perform, you might want to work on something a bit harder."

"I know. Michael here was being a gentleman and refused to properly jinx me, let alone Stun me, so I thought I'd show him how a real Tickling Charm is done."

"And it was done very well," Harry agreed. "But, Michael, there are women Death Eaters. You're going to have to get over you're chivalry."

"Well, why don't you hex Ginny?" Michael shot back. He did not like being scolded by the Golden Boy.

"W-what?" Harry spluttered.

"Yeah, Harry," Ginny encouraged. "Go on. Hex me!"

"Oh, um. I guess, um… I—well, alright." Harry fidgeted and pulled his wand from his robes. "Um, impedimenta!" The curse hit Ginny square in the chest, but the close proximity of Harry to Ginny seemed to add a shock. She fell over, and he caught her.

"Oh, sorry Ginny," Harry mumbled as he laid her on the ground and muttered the counter curse.

Michael rushed to her side and cast a murderous glance at Harry. Ginny sat up promptly, brushing away Michael's assistance. She turned around to watch Harry carefully back away, then quickly walk over to Cho Chang, who had just mastered her Stunning Spell.

"Alright, Michael. Now you try that. You can catch me afterward if that helps you retain your Knight in Shining Armor façade." She grinned as she stood up, and the effect it had on him was obvious.

After several more minutes, Harry called attention to the group and announced that this would be their last meeting before winter holidays. Though many groaned, they slowly began to file out the door. Ginny chatted with Loony as she entered into the hall, but she soon remembered something.

"Oh, dear, I forgot my school bag. See you later, Luna."

"Alright, Ginny. You must go quick or the nargles will get it."

"Thanks for the advice," Ginny laughed and ran back into the Room of Requirement. All the students should have left, though it seemed that the room wasn't empty. One voice was familiar—Harry. And Cho.

Ginny ducked behind a stack of pillows used for Stunning practice and listened closely.

Cho was speaking, or crying. "…It just makes me…wonder whether… if _he'd_ known it all…he'd still be alive."

_Who are they talking about?_ Ginny wondered.

"He did know all this stuff," came Harry's slightly deeper voice. "He was really good at it, or he could never have got to the middle of the maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance."

_Ah, Cedric. No wonder Cho was crying. Poor girl. When wasn't she crying now a day?_

"You survived when you were just a baby."

"Yeah, well, I dunno why, nor does anyone else, so it's nothing to be proud of."

"Oh don't go!" Cho seemed to be crying more. "I'm really sorry to get all upset like this…I didn't mean to…"

It was Cho who spoke again. "I know it must be horrible for you. Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die… I suppose you just want to forget about it…" It was silent for a while longer, until Cho began talking again. Wasn't Harry going to say _anything_? "You're a r-really good teacher, you know. I've never been able to Stun anything before."

"Thanks," Harry said. _Thanks? Is that all you can say? She's flirting you idiot!_

"Mistletoe." _Mistletoe? Oh, no you don't, Chang!_

"Yeah, it's probably full of nargles, though." Ginny stifled her laugh by biting a pillow. It tasted fuzzy.

"What are nargles?" Cho asked.

"No idea. You'd have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean." His voice was getting breathier, as was hers. Stupid, stupid, mistletoe!

"I really like you, Harry." Ginny could guess what was happening now, but she looked anyway, hoping there was another reason for the silence. Nope, she was right. He was kissing her. Quietly, she picked up her schoolbag and slipped from the room unnoticed, seeing as how the other occupants were preoccupied.

Ginny felt like her heart and broken open, and she was bleeding all over her insides. She knew she shouldn't feel that way, but seeing Harry and… and Cho… it was too much. It was easier when he didn't seem interested in _any_ girl. Then she didn't feel that something was wrong with her. But Cho?

Upon entering the common room, Ginny plopped herself beside Hermione, who was writing a letter. Laying her head on Hermione's shoulder, Ginny spoke quietly so Ron wouldn't hear. "Is there something wrong me?"

"Of course, not. Why would you say that?" Hermione set down her quill.

"Cho Chang." Ginny grumbled.

"Ah…" Hermione sighed in understanding.

"Who you writing too?" Instead of saying the name aloud, Hermione showed Ginny the top of the letter: _Dear Viktor_. They both knew Ron would have a conniption fit if he knew that they still kept in touch. It was now quite obvious that Ron did return Hermione's feelings; he was just too much of a thickhead to do anything about it. _I guess secret love runs in the family,_ Ginny thought. _At least his isn't unrequited._

In just a few moments, Harry stumbled through the portrait hole, looking quite dazed, and Ginny mumbled a "goodnight" and scampered upstairs.

Her dreams were filled with nightmares of Cho walking down the aisle in a white gown and Harry in dress robes, standing under an arch of red roses. This nightmare was replaced by an even more nightmare-ish reality.

"Ginny!" Professor McGonagall hissed, shaking awake the sleeping girl. "Harry has seen your father, in a dream. Or perhaps, something more real than a dream. You're father is gravely injured, by a snake. Death Eaters or worse are to blame. You must come quickly, to the Headmaster's office. We must get your family safe. Hurry! No, don't bother getting dressed!"

In just a matter of a few seconds, Ginny's world had crashed. Harry and Cho together seemed like a blessing to the current situation.

_Dad, please be alright! Please!_

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**Disclaimer: One of these days, I'll walk on the wild side and not mention that I own no rights, characters, spells, places, some dialogue, etc. We'll just see if I actually am prosecuted, huh?**

**A/N: See how quick that was? I think I'll be quick for a while. I kind of want to finish up this story and move on to a Lily and James one. I'm really not that much of a Harry and Ginny fan... too angsty. But Lily and James... they're just so darned cute!**


	9. Just a Game

**Chapter 9**

**Just a Game**

**Ginny's Age: 14**

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"The thing about growing up with Fred and George is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve," Ginny whispered as she leaned close to Harry across the library table.

This idea appeared to intrigue Harry, and to Ginny's delight, amuse him. It was good to see him smile. He had been rather gloomy, grouchy, morose, unsociable, irritable, and a number of other unpleasant adjectives lately, and Ginny hated to see him so. It was due only to her extreme empathy that prompted her to talk to Harry. She'd gone so far as to suggest he attempt talking to Cho and working things out.

She had restrained a smile when he replied that he didn't wish to speak with Cho; it wasn't considered tactful to smile at another's breakup.

"Oh damn, I forgot," Ginny mumbled as Madame Pince enchanted Harry's school things to whack them over their heads and shoo them from the library. No chocolate in the library! Ginny collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles once they were in the corridors. To her surprise, Harry fell to the floor and laughed as well.

"Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve?" Harry said as they regained composure.

"Fred and George's motto—well, right after 'If it bugs Filch, it's a keeper,'" Ginny added.

"I can only imagine growing up with them," Harry laughed, but a twinge of sorrow pricked his face as a far away looked filled his eyes. Ginny regretted that she could never understand what his childhood had been like, while hers had been brimming with loving parents and crazy brothers.

In a desperate attempt to bring the smile back to his lips, Ginny reminisced. "Fred and George did some stupid stuff. When they first started making Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, explosions could be expected from their room several times an hour. Mum put a silencing charm on their room so people would stop jumping three feet in the air at explosions. Then once, they'd blocked off their door with some boxes, and blew up something big. We couldn't here them shout, so so much smoke filled their rooms that they had to jump out the window so they wouldn't asphyxiate."

"Really?" Harry laughed.

"Mmm hmm," she continued. "And once, before they had wands, they both focused so hard on turning Ron's hair purple that it did. Another time, they planted a dungbomb inside of Percy's birthday cake. Percy's used to be their favorite to torture before he, you know, moved out. But once he woke up on the roof and to this day we still can't imagine how Fred and George got him up there without magic. Now that they're of age, it's bloody awful. I pretty much gave up on keeping a diary; they've got no sense of respect for privacy."

Harry seemed almost cheery now, but Ginny suddenly became very quiet. The mention of a diary brought to mind all sorts of things she didn't care to think of. Not only did she wish to forget Tom Riddle's diary, what it could have told Harry, and how Harry had saved her, but she wished to forget all the times Fred and George had taken her other diaries and read aloud her entries—particularly the ones about Harry.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Michael rounding the corner.

"There you are, Ginny! Loony mentioned you had gone to the library. Oh, hello Harry."

"See you around, Harry," Ginny popped up from her seat on the floor. "I'll talk to my brothers and see what they can do." She hurried down the hall with Michael, towards a secluded area people rarely walked through. Since they were not in the same house, it was quite difficult to see each other outside of shared classes.

"Been practicing Quidditch, I see," Michael said.

"Yes, we're playing Ravenclaw next."

"Losing to Ravenclaw next, you mean."

This annoyed Ginny more than it should. "You seem rather intent on that. There's more to life than Quidditch, you know."

"I know," Michael picked up her hand and began rubbing circles in it. "But somebody ought to tell your brother that. Don't think he's quite cut out for the game." He chuckled to himself until Ginny pulled her hand away.

"He's my _brother_," she reminded him with pursed lips.

"And I don't know how you're related. You're a much better Quidditch player."

"There's more to life-- and family resemblance-- than Quidditch," Ginny was becoming more than a bit annoyed, but she couldn't help but miss the warm circles his thumb had traced on the back of her hand.

"I know," he took her hand in his again, and Ginny tried not to like it. "Don't get so worked up. You look like you're about to hex me! Most girls cry when they're angry, you know? But you don't cry do you?" He seemed almost _disappointed_ that she wasn't a weepy sort of girl.

"No, I don't really cry," she said, reluctantly pulling her hand away again. "And I'm not much like other girls, either. Actually, I'm a bit tired, see you tomorrow, Michael."

"Okay, see you. Hey, we're alright, aren't we?" He scrutinized her face.

"Yeah, we're alright," she sighed and kissed his cheek. "Just a long day. We'll talk tomorrow." With that, she knew they most definitely _weren't_ alright. It seemed almost natural at the end of the last Quidditch match when he was brooding and angry.

"How did you win?" He demanded. "How did your brother save those goals? Ho did you steal that snitch from under Cho's nose?"

"It's not a big deal! Just a game," she yelled.

"It's more than a game! Cho seems to take that seriously!" he yelled back and gestured toward the crying girl stomping around the Quidditch pitch.

"Then go talk to her," Ginny stated in a sudden calmness. "I think we're over."

This stunned him. "What?" he spluttered.

"I'm breaking up with you. We're still friends, okay?" she replied serenely and left the pitch, leaving the dumbstruck boy behind her. It didn't take him too long to get over Ginny, and move on to Cho. His arm draped around her should just an hour later. An hour later, Ginny as well had moved on. Dean Thomas was just so funny and sweet and cute back in the Gryffindor common room. She couldn't help but kiss him.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I dedicate this to everyone who actually read it. If you've read it, please tell me. If not many people do, I'll stop wasting my energy coming up with cute things to put here.**


	10. Life's Cruelest Ironies

**Chapter 10**

**Life's Cruelest Ironies**

**Ginny's Age: 15**

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The dungeons were even colder than normal with the fast approach of Christmas, but for some reason, Ginny Weasley had not thought much of Christmas, she realized as she started to leave Potions. Yes, she had ordered presents for her family and friends, and was looking forward to seeing her parents over the holidays, but other things seemed to fill Ginny's mind. Like Dean. And Quidditch. Like Fleur, and Percy, and the twins' shop. Like O.W.L.s and the Order of the Phoenix. And of course, as always on some degree, Harry Potter.

Just after exiting the classroom with her schoolbag slung across her shoulder, Ginny saw Dean running down the stairs with a huge grin across his face.

"Harry's put me on as a Chaser for the match!" he shouted. Grabbing Ginny around the waist and lifting her to her feet, Dean spun her round the dungeon corridor. Several Gryffindors sighed in approval or bravely hid their jealousy, while many Slytherins sniggered or did little to mask their expressions of disgust.

"Isn't. That. Lovely." Came a sharp voice from the Potions doorway. Snape. "Five points from Gryffindor for nauseating displays of affection," he called as he swooped down a hall, presumably towards his office.

"Just because no one's ever shown him affection," Ginny whispered.

"Another five points from Gryffidor for failing to hold your tongue, Ms. Weasley."

When he turned to leave again, Ginny made a great display of using her tongue-- to stick it out at him. "Come on, Ginny. We've lost enough points for Gryffindor today."

"We?" Ginny teased, but they ascended to the entrance hall, anyways.

"You're right, it was just you. All the more reason to preoccupy your tongue," he replied and leaned down to kiss her.

"I love it when you do that," Ginny told him as they wandered towards one of the school's lesser-known passageways.

"So I have good technique?" he asked.

"And I pride myself," Ginny laughed. "When I began dating you, you had the experience of a twelve-year-old."

"I bet I did. Had my first girlfriend when I was twelve—in first year."

"Really? Who?" Ginny was entirely curious, while a different sort of girl would have been at least slightly jealous.

"One of the Patil twins. I dated her for two hours one Valentine's Day."

"Two hours?" Ginny giggled. "Wait, one of the Patil twins? Which one?"

Dean laughed nervously, "I don't really know. I think I might have kissed both of them."

"So that's why it only lasted two hours?" Ginny concluded.

"Yep! I reckon that would do the trick, huh?"

"Probably!" Ginny and Dean had settled onto the ground and she leaned into him, laying her head on his chest. "Chaser, you say?"

"Yup, now I'll be around to protect you on the pitch," he joked.

"Oh, I need protecting now?"

"Mm, hm! You're a damsel in distress. Now we better go get dinner soon. Practice starts at seven."

"That was the worst practice ever!" Ginny shouted as she stormed into the castle at ten o'clock.

"It's alright, really! We'll do fine! I mean, Harry will catch the Snitch before Ron can let _too_ many goals in."

"He better! Ron's such an uncoordinated prat! He nearly broke Demelza's nose when he ran into her! And Harry's too busy being a good friend or the "Chosen One" or whatever the hell he is to just kick Ron off the team! Not that McLaggen the troll would be much better but at least he can fly!"

"Calm down, Ginny!" Dean screamed as they found themselves in the same deserted passageway behind the tapestry that they were in earlier. "You don't really think Harry's the Chosen One, do you? And he is our friend?"

Ginny sighed. Just like with Michael, there would always be things Dean couldn't know about the Order and such. And if by Chosen One, Dean was referring to the one who would have to kill You-Know-Who, then, "Yes" would be her honest answer. "No, not the Chosen One. Of course he's my friend, I'm just frustrated."

"I see that," he whispered and slid his arms around her. It was not long after that Ron and Harry found the couple locked in a heated embrace.

"Oi!" he had called. Oi! Indeed, Ronald! She nearly bit his head off, that stupid brother of hers. He was too much of a coward to ask out Hermione, and too much of a jealous warthog to stand anybody else snogging. Ginny was all fired up and ready to go at him after that awful practice. The fact that her head was topsy-turvy from her recent encounter with Dean certainly didn't help her mentality.

And yet, even while spitting insults at her brother, Ginny's eye was on something else.

"And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum," she'd shouted, knowing how that would get him. "It's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!" Didn't that sound familiar?

Yet through all this, Ginny watched Harry. She knew how it felt to watch Harry kiss someone, but wondered what his reaction would be. And his reaction astonished her. He, Harry Potter, the Chosen One, savior of the Wizarding World, her brother's best friend, her Quidditch captain, her pathetic schoolgirl crush, _the_ one and only Harry Potter-- was jealous. She practically cackled at the irony. Harry Potter was jealous of Dean! Because Dean had kissed her!

The red headed girl stormed out of the passage, but veered in a different direction than Gryffindor tower. She needed to cool her fire before speaking with her boyfriend. Ginny's head was spinning and she could not stop laughing maniacally. Positive that any passerby would dubb her completely insane and admit her to St. Mungo's on the spot, Ginny found the portrait of the small witch in violet robes. She swung it open and crawled into the hole. In such a small place, where she could here her evil cackles echo around her, she calmed down a bit, but she still panted and gasped for air as she stumbled towards the lake.

Harry Potter, on some level, found her attractive. The look in his eye made it obvious to Ginny that this was the first time he saw her as a woman, instead of his best mate's little sister. This was one of life's deliciously cruel joke in Ginny's opinion.

_Harry likes me, but I'm with Dean._ Ginny thought. _Should I break up with Dean?_ Should she? She didn't know, but came to a conclusion. _There was something else in Harry's eyes. Confliction. I'm Ron's little sister, and he considers me off limits. Or at least Ron would mark me off limits, but he marks me off limits for everyone. Or he tries anyway. _

It was dark at the lake. Completely alone aside from the night owls and crickets, Ginny began talking to herself. "This is really just my luck isn't it? I pine after a boy for fifteen years and when he finally notices me, I'm taken. Ugh! I hate men!" Ginny pulled out her wand and began drawing in the dirt.

Suddenly, a thought donned on Ginny, and she voiced it to the giant squid. "Do I want to go out with Harry? Yes, of course I do! I've wanted to for years. Yes, but I have Dean now. Do I care for Dean more than I do for Harry?"

Though Ginny was fairly certain she'd much rather be with Harry than Dean, she groaned aloud and fell backward, onto the grass. She awoke several hours later, only to remember that she'd probably want to get back to the castle. The idea of Hagrid or Filch finding her there at six in the morning was rather unappealing. It seemed to Ginny that all of her options were unappealing at the moment.

Resuming her lifelong practice of composing letters she'd never actually send to Harry, Ginny spoke to the dark and silent Hogwarts grounds.

"Dear Harry, You're an idiot! Love, Ginny"

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**Disclaimer: Apparently, only one person reads these disclaimers. But for you, I will continue. I do not own any of the characters, places, etc. Wouldn't it be nice if no one owned anything, and we could all just run free, hold hands, and skip in a field of daisies? I'd totally be Amish if they suddenly allowed electricity. **

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who reads my story. It's really very nice of you to put up with me and my stupid ideas. I'd never really thought of sticking the title in there like that, but it just came. I don't really like the title. It changed like six times before I just gave up.**


	11. Power

**Chapter 11**

**Power**

**Ginny's Age: 15**

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Ginny Weasley had newly discovered a power, and she loved it. Harry had discovered her in a whole new light, and Ginny reveled in the effect she had on him. One late March night in the Common Room, Ginny had been joking with Harry for several hours instead of studying for O.W.L.s. Dean had just walked through the portrait hole, appearing to be in quite a foul mood, and Ginny thought it would be best if she chose that moment to head up to the girls' dormitory.

"See you tomorrow, Harry," she said. Walking around the sofa, she took careful effort to brush past his knee, just to see his face. Inside, Ginny laughed. _So this is what I can do to Harry! After all these years, it's me with the power to set him drooling!_

Quite exhausted, she changed into her nightgown before someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," Ginny called and fell onto her bed.

Hermione stood in the doorway, scowling. "Ginny, what are you doing?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" The younger girl replied with as much innocence as she could muster.

Hermione answered with a sigh. "Don't play like that, Ginny. You're not being fair to Dean, you're not being fair to Harry, and you're not being fair to yourself."

"It's his fault," Ginny pouted.

"Very mature, Ginny." Hermione noted as she sat on the foot of Ginny's bed.

"He's not being mature either!" She replied obstinately.

Hermione knit her brow together is confusion. "Harry? Harry isn't being mature?"

"If he likes me, he should do something about it."

"Maybe you didn't notice this, Ginny, but you're going with Dean. There's not much he can do."

Ginny scowled at the truth. "And if I did break it off with Dean, what do you think Harry would do? Ask me out? Not likely."

"I'm not telling you to break up with Dean," Hermione sighed again.

"Really? Then what are you telling me to do?" Ginny raised her voice.

And so did Hermione.

"Figure out what you want, and do something about it! Stop playing with people's emotions! You have the power to crush both of them, and you're practically doing it!"

"Oh, so I'm playing with emotions now!" Ginny shouted.

Hermione jumped to her feet in anger, "Well, what would you call it? You flirt and joke with Harry even though Dean's you're boyfriend! Do you even like Dean?"

"Of course I do! Stop accusing me!"

"Do you like him more than Harry?" Hermione yelled.

Ginny didn't answer. She shut her mouth and sank onto the bed. "No," she finally said.

Hermione also softened and sat down next to Ginny. "You could try going with Harry."

"And you could try going with Ron. But you haven't. Ron's busy making a fool of himself with Lavender and you're penfriending with Krum," Ginny huffed.

"I never said I was an example," Hermione responded quietly. "It just isn't going to work out with Ron and I. And I do like Viktor in a friendly way."

"And I like Dean in a more than friendly way," Ginny mumbled as she stared across the room absently.

The two girls sat silently for several minutes, lost in their own troubles. Neither of them had fallen into unrequited love, they just had fallen for thickheads who couldn't see what was right in front of them.

Ginny, still in a daze of thought, began rambling. "How could it ever work out with Harry and I? He's always been too busy saving the Wizarding world and the Muggle world too. That's the only way he'll be happy. I don't know what he's doing, but I know he's having some sort of private lessons with Dumbledore. They call him the Chosen One. In some way or another, he must be. Whether by destiny or personality, he won't stop fighting until he's finished with—with—You-Know-Who. With V-voldemort. I don't fit into the picture of fighting evil. You do, Hermione. You and my brother will help him. I know you will.And me? I guess I'll go to school. Take my O.W.L.s and my N.E.W.T.s and get a job. And he'll be the hero. The Boy Who Lived."

Hermione stared at Ginny with sadness and pity. She hated to admit that Ginny might be right. Harry was being groomed to fight the darkest wizard there that had ever gained power.

Still, Hermione couldn't allow her friend to say things like that. "Don't speak that way."

Ginny offered a half-hearted smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. I've got a lot to think about."

Hermione nodded and walked towards the doorway. "See you tomorrow, Ginny. Sleep well."

Ginny did not sleep well that night. She didn't sleep well the next night either. Ginny didn't sleep well until one night at the end of April.

It had been an odd evening, and Ginny looked back on it with a foggy head. She had been out at the lake with Dean past curfew and they had hurried back to Gryffindor tower to avoid detention courtesy of Filch.

Dean had jostled her as they passed through the portrait hole, and she had blown up.

"Why do you always do that!" she had screamed. "I'm perfectly capable of making it through on my own!"

"Umm, sorry?" he had stammered, though slightly confused.

"You should be!" she had shouted back. "Dean, I think it's best if we see other people." She spoke firmly—as professor giving directions.

"What?" He was flabbergasted. "I won't do it again, Gin. I know you can get through on your own."

"Sorry, Dean. It was good, but it's time to move on," and with that she marched over to and armchair and sat down less than gracefully. What had she just done? Break up with Dean? Over a portrait hole?

"See other people?" Came a voice from behind her. "Have you got any ideas, Ginny?"

Ginny turned around to face Hermione. "Oh, I think I can come up with one."

Hermione laughed and came around to squeeze in with Ginny on the chair.

"What are you in such a good mood over?" Ginny asked.

"It's a nice day," Hermione giggled, but tilted her head toward the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Lavender was throwing a fit and Ron was her victim. He stood there awkwardly and shuffled his feet as she screeched about "that Granger girl! What are you always doing with her? Don't you care about _me_ more than _her_! We're _over_, Ronald! Over! Now you can go and be with that bushy little Know-It-All!"

Ginny giggled as well. "It is, indeed, a beautiful day!"

* * *

**Disclaimer: Just to clarify, I do like electricity. Sorry for any confusion. Also to clarify, I adore every last one of JKR's places and characters, even Voldy, but they're hers, not mine.**

**A/N: That was a pathetic chapter wasn't it? I'm sick, take pity on me and my bad writing skills. Now, should they get together next chapter… or should Ginny be tortured a bit longer? Mwahahahahahaha!**


	12. Finally

**Chapter 12**

**Finally**

**Ginny's Age: 15**

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The Gryffindor Quidditch team was angry, to say at the least. Without Harry around to lead them, the team felt that there was no hope of beating Ravenclaw. Dean, who was substituting for Ginny, was not as talented of a Chaser as she was, and Ginny, who was taking Harry's place as Seeker, couldn't even compare to Harry. Ron, though he had been improving as of his breakup with Lavender, was disheartened by the absence of Harry. At least Katie's time away didn't appear to have affected her game.

Ginny climbed onto a bench in the locker room several minutes before the match and called the team to attention.

She cleared her throat dramatically before starting a speech. "Alright everyone, Harry's not here. Yeah, I know you know. I also know we won't be as good without Harry."

Everyone seemed to shout at once, but Peake's voice could be heard loudest. "Couldn't Harry have waited until _after_ the match to kill Malfoy? I'd have helped him if we'd beat Ravenclaw _first_."

This angered Ginny, "Harry's not a murderer! He wasn't trying to kill Malfoy!"

Someone tugged at her robes, "Um, Ginny," Ron said. "This isn't a very good pregame pep talk."

She shot him a scathing look and called order again. "Just because we're not the best team we've ever been doesn't mean we're not better than Ravenclaw. At the risk of sounding stupid, I'm ordering everyone to be the best team we _can_ be, even without Harry. Now, let's do him proud, and win that cup!"

Half-hearted groans of encouragement erupted from the team. Ginny held her head high as she walked onto the pitch. If she was going to lose, she was going to lose with dignity. More importantly, Cho Chang would not be the one to catch the Snitch if Ginny had anything to say about it. She'd lost to Cho Chang on one account, and did not feel like losing again.

Luckily, she didn't have to. Katie took off the moment the whistle was blown, promptly scoring ten points for Gryffindor. A fire seemed to drive Dean and Demelza in a way they had never been driven before, and Peakes and Cootes seemed to be venting their frustration very well by bludgeoning the other team. Ron seemed to predict the Quaffle's direction, and the Snitch seemed to be magnetically drawn to Ginny's hand. Cho looked close to tears, and Ginny was unashamed of the pleasure that gave her.

"We won!" they screamed. "Take _that_ Ravenclaw! _That_ was from Harry!" Ginny was ecstatic. Her insides bubbled with a giddy fire. She felt like she could have flown if that was what she really wanted. Perhaps she did fly back to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps she was hovering on air at the party in the common room. It most certainly felt that way. With the knowledge she could do whatever she wanted tonight, Ginny decided exactly what she wanted.

She wanted Harry. She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him quite clearly. "This is your chance," she wanted to say. "I like you—a lot. What are you going to do about it?"

She twirled about the common room—laughing, dancing, floating on bubbles, when Harry came in. She stopped sharply, and the room seemed silent, though she still bubbled. Harry smiled as he realized Gryffindor must have won, and won big. His eyes sought out hers, and Ginny new it was _not_ now or never. It was now and only now. Flying towards him and throwing her arms about his neck, she did not even stop to consider that he didn't want this too. But his lips on hers were the perfect way for him to say yes, yes he did.

Harry wanted to be with Ginny, and they both told each other then and there, in front of the entirety of Gryffindor. In front of Ron and Hermione, and Neville, and Luna, and Dean. The oddity of Luna's presence hardly registered. The only thing that registered in Ginny's mind was Harry. Finally, Harry. And the way his hands felt on her waist, and his lips on hers. Ginny knew she had been held this way before, but couldn't imagine it feeling this right. Nothing had ever been _this_ right before. All was right in the world for that instant.

Until she looked behind her.

Ginny felt sorry for Dean, who stood with a broken glass in his hand. He shouldn't have had to see that so soon.

Ginny laughed at Hermione, who seemed to be smirking at Harry and congratulating Ginny all at once.

Ginny even felt thankful towards Ron. He seemed to accept this new development, as if his acceptance was needed. Stupid brothers.

She followed her new boyfriend out the portrait hole. Boyfriend. The word felt nice to Ginny, though slightly wrong. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? They were juvenile words. Ginny had felt no problem using those words with herself and Michael or herself and Dean, but Harry was different. With their history, he was something else entirely.

She didn't let these thoughts disturb her tonight. Instead she walked close to Harry as they slipped through the castle, towards the lake. Ginny's insides had stopped bubbling like carbonation, and she could take a moment to appreciate the silent grounds, the warm night air, Harry's arm around her, the smell of Harry's hair. For a fleeting second, Ginny became self conscience of her appearance—fresh off a broom stick in sweaty Quidditch robes. Harry didn't appear to notice, so Ginny relaxed into him.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"For?" Ginny frowned. Sorry? Did he regret what he had just done?

"For kissing you in front of the entire house."

Ginny giggled. "If you're going to be sorry, be sorry that it took you six years to do it!"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Harry laughed, kissing the top of her fiery red hair.

"That's alright. Makes the reward so much sweeter."

Harry smiled at her, and jokingly added. "And we've even got Ron's approval."

Ginny snorted, "If he'd just get together with Hermione, he'd have better things to occupy his time that torturing his baby sister."

"So you've seen it too?" Harry asked.

She laughed again. "Harry, a _hippogriff_ could see it! You boys are such thickheads!"

"We most certainly are," Harry agreed. "If I could have had you years ago, and it took me until last December to notice you…"

"December?" she asked quizzically. "When exactly in December?" She already knew, but wanted to hear him say it.

Harry seemed embarrassed, squirming and reddening a bit before replying. "When I saw you behind the tapestry with Dean."

"That's what I thought."

Harry gaped. "That's what you thought? And you let me stare like an idiot for five months?"

Ginny giggled. "You're very amusing when you're flustered."

"And you're twisted!" Harry seemed shocked.

"You already knew that! And you liked me anyway," she smiled.

"I am an idiot, aren't I?" he conceded.

"Yeah," Ginny whispered and stood on her toes to reach his lips. "And I still like you anyway."

"Aren't I lucky?"

"To be with a girl like me?" Ginny teased. "You most definitely are."

"Finally," Harry said.

"You have no idea."

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**Disclaimer: I do own Harry. I'm also a witch. Shh… don't tell anyone.**

**A/N: Thanks for all you're encouragement. I'm sorry this chapter took so long, that was mean of me. But unfortunately, with school starting soon, I'll probably just be slower. And no, this isn't the end. I'm going all the way through the series. **


	13. Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting

**

* * *

**

Chapter 13

**Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting**

**Ginny's Age: 16**

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Ginny stood stone straight in the Headmaster's office. Her gaze was directed out the window, but she did not notice the wind in the trees on that cold November night. All of her focus was directed at having no expression as she avoided the glare of the Headmaster. That's what he liked to be called: Headmaster. Ginny preferred to refer to Severus Snape as The Most Vile Murderer to Ever Walk the Halls of Hogwarts.

"More late night wanderings, Ms. Weasley." Ginny didn't turn toward the condescending voice, adamant in her resolve to show him as much disrespect as possible. "Sneaking in copies of banned reading materials, such as The Quibbler. Graffiti. Student organizations. Dumbledore's Army. Harry Potter. You've broken nearly every rule this school has. I'd dare to call it impressive if it wasn't so despicable."

Ginny's jaw was set. She would not betray herself. He wanted a reaction. He would not get it.

"Ms. Weasley, you are henceforth banned from all Hogsmeade visits," Snape proclaimed in his slow, oozing voice. Her head turned, her eyes met his. Ginny cursed herself for the involuntary movement.

"Upset are we? Regret, perhaps, for disobeying of school rules? Do you know why we have these rules?"

Ginny did not answer. She turned her head away, back towards the window, but not without a quick glance at Dumbledore's portrait. It was empty, as it nearly always was when Ginny was in this office. Dumbledore had scurried off the moment she had ascended the gargoyle steps. Dumbledore had abandoned them at Hogwarts. Ginny was ashamed to think of how she almost finished that thought. Just like Harry.

Snape spoke again, louder. "_Do you know why we have these rules?_ They are for the good of the students and the wizarding community! Do you not care about the wizarding community, girl? Look at me! I said, _look at me_! Would you rather I turn you over to the Carrow's?"

Reluctantly, Ginny faced the looming presence behind Dumbledore's desk.

A sickly malicious grin spread over Snape's face. "Yes, that's right. Another stunt, and the Carrow's will be given reign over your punishment. You shall spend all following Hogsmeade visits cleaning the trophy room by hand. You are excused. Head straight to your dorm; no detours."

Ginny spun on her toes to exit the room as quickly as possible. The trophy room had been emptied of all of Harry's awards, replaced with awards for Goyle on his Cruciatas Curse. As she left, she heard several portraits speak at once. Ginny smiled to hear Dumbledore reprimanding Snape for his harsh treatment of her. She almost stopped, but decided better of it, when she heard that relative of Sirius scream something about, "That ignorant Potter boy!"

Ginny knew for a fact that that former Headmaster had another portrait in 12 Grimmauld Place. Her heart leaped to think that Harry was there, safe with Hermione and Ron. Perhaps his mission was going well. Perhaps he would come to Hogwarts soon to rescue them all and bring down Snape. And perhaps, that was wishful thinking.

Ginny ran into someone as she hopped out of the gargoyle. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"You should be sorry, brat," the woman snapped.

"Oh, yes. I'm _very_ sorry," Ginny sneered at Alecto Carrow.

"I'm sorry, _Professor_. And don't you forget it," replied the stout woman.

"Yes, Professor Crackpot," she mumbled quickly.

"Pardon?" cried the woman. With a flick of her wand, Ginny flew up into the air, crashing into the wall, then the ceiling, then the other wall, before being slammed back onto the floor. "Back to your house, now."

Resisting the urge to smart back at her, Ginny scurried down the hall. When she was out of sight, she gingerly felt her jaw. It throbbed with pain, and her hand came away bloody. Cautiously, Ginny veered toward the hospital wing, deciding that Snape could not get too angry at her for a visit to Madame Pomfrey.

After staggering back toward Gryffindor Tower, with a freshly healed jaw and rib, Ginny collapsed into a chair by the fire.

"Blimey, Ginny!" cried Neville. "You smarted off again, didn't you?"

Guessing she must have been pretty bruised, she snapped back, "Of course I did! And you're a horrid example if you think I should have done otherwise!"

"Quite true," he agreed. Extracting a small bottle from his robes, he asked Ginny, "Need some firewhiskey?"

"No, thanks," she replied. "I hate that stuff."

Neville sighed, "Me too, but it takes the edge off the Cruciatas Curse."

Ginny giggled.

Students began trickling up the stairs to retire for the evening. Only after just a few students remained the commons did Ginny speak again. "You know Dumbledore's portrait? What do you think it, well, thinks? About… everything it has to see?"

Neville's eyes lit up, as if remembering something magnificently important. Looking around quickly, he spoke excitedly in hushed tones. "I heard something the other day. Dumbledore said something as I walked into the office. It was," he looked around again. "Harry. It was about Harry and the sword of Gryffindor!"

Ginny gasped. "I heard something last summer. I was eavesdropping on Harry and Ron and Hermione on Harry's birthday. Dumbledore left the sword to Harry in his will!"

Now, Neville gasped. "But it's on his wall! Snape's wall!"

"Precisely! Scrimgouer wouldn't give it to Harry!" It took great effort for Ginny to keep her voice down, and several second years were getting curious. "He said it wasn't Dumbledore's to give. Hermione was wondering why Dumbledore would leave Harry a sword, but decided it must be important on their mission."

"So they _are_ on a mission!" Neville near shouted. The second years seemed to be inching close, so Neville grabbed Ginny's hand and dragged her to his dorm. It was empty except for a sleeping Seamus, wince Harry, Ron, and Dean were gone.

Neville slammed the door shut and proclaimed, "We're going to steal it! We're going to steal the sword of Gryffindor from Snape!"

Ginny grinned. "Excellent."

Seamus was, in fact, not asleep. He pulled back his bed curtains, saying, "Alright, but this time I'm taking lookout and diversion. If I get busted one more time I'm going to suffer serious head trauma at the hands of those Slytherin goons."

"Whatever you say, Seamus," Ginny agreed, "As long as you're in. Luna can help Neville and I with the actual break in. Padma and Parvarti might help with lookout."

Neville chimed in with Terry Boot and Michael Corner.

Seamus grinned, "Wish Cho was still here. She'd could make quite a distraction when she wanted to."

Ginny rolled her eyes, and the boys laughed at her. Though, technically, Ginny was Harry's ex-girlfriend as well, she made no secret of her dislike for Cho.

Ginny quieted them down, and reminded them, "We're idiots you know. Breaking into Snape's office to steal a sword that we have no way of getting to Harry?"

Seamus nodded and Neville shrugged. "We're also masochistic."

Ginny giggled, "As long as we're clear on that!"

"Well, it's for the sake of muggle-borns everywhere!" Neville shouted.

"And blood-traitors and muggles and house-elves!" Seamus stood up on his bed.

"And Hermione, and Ron, and Harry!" Ginny yelled. "And Dumbledore's Army!"

"Dumbledore's Army!" the boys shouted, pumping their fists in the air.

Ginny stamped her foot in exclamation and announced, "Still recruiting!" At this, the three Gryffindors fell into themselves in laughter. Oh, how it felt good to laugh!

**

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of Harry Potter world, even though I am a member of Dumbledore's Army. I am, I tell you! I am!

**A/N: Many people are worried that I'm going to go to long after this. Don't worry. Only one or two more chapters. I really wanted to write this chapter though. **


	14. When Ginny Cried

**Chapter 14**

**When Ginny Cried**

**Ginny's Age: 16**

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Hogwarts was crying. The ceiling was crying, the teachers were crying, the students were crying. The Weasleys were crying. Except for Fred. Fred was dead. Fred had been killed by the Death Eaters. And the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters weren't crying.

And Ginny. Ginny wasn't crying. Ginny didn't cry. Not here. Not how. But there were times when Ginny had cried.

She'd cried when she thought that she was the Heir of Slytherin.

She'd cried when she was in the Chamber of Secrets.

She'd cried when Cedric Diggory died.

She'd cried when Percy left home.

She'd cried when Dumbledore's funeral was held.

She'd cried all during those past months at Aunt Muriel's. They'd told her that the family was in trouble. Ron had been spotted with Hermione and Harry. _They've been spotted!_ Ginny screamed. _Why'd they go and do that? Are they alright? Where are they!_

_They're at Shell Cottage,_ her father had whispered. Her mother didn't want to tell her. Thought she'd do something stupid, like hijack a car and attempt to drive there. She didn't even know where it was.

_Daddy, take me there!_ Ginny had cried. He wouldn't. He had never been able to take someone along while he apparated. Ginny understood that. But he had also told her it was too dangerous. Too dangerous? Had they seen what they'd done to her at Hogwarts? Had they seen how dangerous it was to keep her locked at Aunt Muriel's? To hell with being safe! She wanted to see the people she loved most! Her sister, her brother, her Harry.

Damn, you, Dumbledore! Why had you said they couldn't tell her! She wanted to take down Snape—she wanted to take down Voldemort!

And Voldemort was here. Right now. If not in the castle, then somewhere on the grounds. And he was waiting for Harry. But Harry wouldn't go to him. He wasn't that stupid. They'd said he'd headed toward Dumbledore's office.

As Ginny sat on a bench in the Great Hall, she pulled her knees to her chest, gently humming, rocking back and forth, avoiding the gaze of the dead bodies surrounding her.

She wanted Harry to come back from Dumbledore's office. She wanted to talk to Harry. She didn't know what she wanted to say.

Part of her wanted to run headlong towards him, she wanted to hit him again and again until he felt the pain that she felt. She wanted to scream, making it clear to him and everyone else around him that he can't just leave her for a year! You can't do that to the people you love! And you can't take my friends with you! You bastard!

Another part of her knew that this was irrational. He was doing what he had too. Why should he even have a second thought about leaving his ex-girlfriend?

And yet another part of her wanted to run headlong towards him, flinging her arms around his neck. _Ex-girlfriend? Bah!_ She would scoff. She wanted to kiss him and hold him, and be held by him. She wanted to make it clear to him and everyone around him that she loved Harry—in a way she had previously thought it impossible to love anyone. She wanted to be with him for now and for forever. And if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't dare to deny her that gift.

It was as she thought these thoughts that she felt her tears swell up from her throat. But what if? What if forever was a short time? What if there would never even be a now?

Then a soft voice came from behind her, "Umm, Ginny?' Hermione asked, gently resting a hand on her back. "Where's Harry?"

Ginny's head snapped up with wide eyes to see a scared Hermione and a fidgeting Ron. Her breath was heavy, she could feel it beating against her knees.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny repeated softly. "What do you mean?" The tears were coming now. Harry couldn't—he wouldn't. Would he? Oh no, he could never—

Ginny began to choke on her breath and the tears that threatened to fall.

Hermione and Ron dropped to there knees, scared. Hermione reached towards Ginny's hand, "You mean, he hasn't—he hasn't come to see you?"

"No," Ginny shook her head feebly. He, he—no.

Ron eyes grew wide, unseeing, fearing. "H-harry?" He stuttered.

"He wouldn't have— Hermione whispered. "He wouldn't have turned himself into Voldemort." She seemed to be convincing herself—poorly.

Ginny bit her lip, "When did you see him last?"

Ron answered, "He seemed to be heading towards Dumbledore's office." His eyes were still large, frozen in space on something no one else saw. Whatever Ron was looking at—it was terrible.

Hermione kept one hand over Ginny's as she slipped the other into Ron's. "He didn't come talk to you?"

"No!" Ginny snapped at her. "I haven't talked to him since the Burrow! I haven't touched him since the Burrow! I haven't—

Her voice broke, and Hermione nodded, as if to say that she didn't need to go on.

Still frozen, Ron whispered. "It's been over an hour. They should have attacked."

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth at the shock of the truth in those words. Her eyes watered, her jaw quivered.

She gasped again, painfully, at the scream of twisted agony from the Entrance Hall. Leaping from the bench, the three friends sprinted towards the door. Professor McGonagall stood on the stone floor, cowering into herself, pointing a hand towards Hagrid.

Hagrid stood in the center of the room, flanked by dozens of Death Eaters with malicious grins. There was a man in dark robes with pale skin and blood red eyes who almost appeared to be a snake. Ginny could only assume this creature was Lord Voldemort.

He looked around in sickening pleasure at the tortured cries and screams and tears of Hogwarts. Onlookers dropped to their knees in astonishment, in fear, in pain. Ginny was sure that her own cry was dreadful to be heard, that the sound of it would have physically hurt her, if she wasn't already in this state. Her world, her hope, her happiness, was ripped out from under her. Death would be preferable. Ginny was crying.

For laying in the arms of a sobbing Hagrid,

Was Harry Potter,

the Boy-Who-Lived-No-More.

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**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't have killed Remus and Tonks!**

**IMPORTANT A/N: I can't stop crying. Partly because I have a cold and partly because I can't even imagine Ginny's pain! Enough of that now. So I've noticed that my readers have dropped off now that Ginny and Harry got together. Which is disappointing to me. It means that so many people were only reading until Ginny got the guy. LIFE'S NOT ABOUT GETTING THE GUY! There's more to the story, honey. Now hold in there. Thanks, though for everyone who keeps reading. Love you all!**


	15. Let all be Well

**Chapter 15**

**Let all be Well**

**Ginny's Age: 16**

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There will be no more houses, he said. All Slytherin, all the time. I suppose that also meant no more muggle-borns. Muggles would become lower than house-elves. And blood-traitors? Ginny knew she was a goner. Why even try?

Ginny had spent months fighting the Carrow's. She risked death and faced injury. But what was it for? It seemed that they were merely holding down the fort until Harry came. Until Harry came to save Hogwarts. To save the wizarding world.

Harry couldn't do that any more? Harry was dead. There was no use trying. Ginny's knees hit the ground. She sat back on her heels, allowing her head to flop forward, her back hunched.

She couldn't live for Fred. She couldn't live for Harry. She couldn't live for the freedom of human kind. Why live?

Ginny's head snapped up from her abyss of hopelessness as Neville tripped past her. He shouted something about not surrendering. So did Ron. Stupid boys. Didn't they know it was over? Bow down to Voldemort or die. Those were their choices now. Peering up through a curtain of hair and blurred vision, Ginny watched as Neville's head burst into flame.

_Lucky_, she thought. _He'll die quickly. He won't have to watch his beloved world deteriorate._

There was commotion. Loud sounds. Footsteps. Battle cries. What was going on? They were fighting. Why? Didn't they see how it was?

_Give up! Go home! Flee to Siberia; it's your only hope!_

Neville stopped blazing. He pulled something shiny from a charred rag on the ground. The sword! So that was what Snape did with it! Ginny pulled herself into a crouch. Neville… he… he chopped off the snake's head? If he was going to put up a last hurrah, he was going to chop of snake's head? What the hell? Was he confunded? Crazy? Too many Cruciatus Curses?

Ginny heard people storming towards the castle.

"Why are they fighting?" she whispered.

Hermione gazed pathetically at Neville, who had begun shouting battle cries. "We're all just going to die," she whispered.

Ron pulled out his wand, smiling at his sister and friend, "Well," he stated, "I don't know about you, but if I'm going to die, I'm going to take out as many Death Eaters as I can on the way, hmm?"

"Why?" Ginny asked. "Why bother?"

Ron shrugged, "Harry would have."

Ginny's heart smacked against her rib cage. Who was she to let Harry down? Seizing her wand, she jumped to her feet. "For Harry!" Kreacher shouted the same thing as he stabbed a kitchen fork into a Death Eater's ankle.

The jets of light were indistinguishable from each other. Though she was vaguely aware of blasting Goyle through a window, she couldn't exactly tell what was happening. She remembered her attempt at fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, along with Hermione and Luna, but being pushed aside by her mother.

That moment revealed so much of her mother that Ginny so often overlooked. Her mother had gone through two wars, raised so many children, been a member of the order, taken in Harry as another son. She fought and killed and cried and lost. She did _a lot_ more than knit sweaters and cook dinner. She was a strong and empowered woman—a woman not to be messed with. Bellatrix Lestrange learned that lesson in the most difficult way imaginable. And though Ginny did not approve of killings, she has a hard time feeling sympathy for the witch.

"Go, Mum!" Ginny shouted. _I am my mother's daughter,_ she thought._ And bloody hell, that's a really great daughter to be._

Smiling, Ginny spun around. She cast several more curses, artfully dodging several others. A bit of black caught her eye.

Was that?

Oh, no, it couldn't!

Merlin!

Merlin, Dumbledore, Harry!

Harry Potter!

T'was around that time when Ginny passed out. Or, if she didn't pass out, something close, because Ginny was certainly not of the current mental capacity to comprehend Harry's discussions with Voldemort. After all, Harry was dead.

All that Ginny saw was Voldemort fall, and Harry stand tall.

There was a moment of silence. Of comprehension. And then a roar of utter jubilation.

Small and light on her feet, Ginny was the first person to reach Harry. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she clung for dear life. That's what Harry had given her, life.

Other crowded around Harry, grabbing and hugging, eager to celebrate with their savior. Because of this, Ginny was almost positive that Harry could not tell that she had been hugging him for nearly a half of an hour. He'd have said _something_ if he knew. After being pushed aside by an overly exuberant Hagrid, Ginny made the rounds of the Great Hall before settling onto a bench beside her mother.

"Mummy," she said.

"You've been very brave, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley replied.

"So have you Mummy," she whispered, nuzzling against he mother. "Thank you for saving me from Bellatrix. Thank you for… for raising me to be the way I am."

"Oh, honey," Molly stroked her daughter's hair. "I just helped, it's you who made you so wonderful."

Sitting quietly for several moments, Ginny spoke, "It won't be the same. Without Fred."

"No," Mrs. Weasley answered. "It will never be the same. But that doesn't mean it has to be bad. If we started crying, I can picture Fred up there, trying to hit us with Tickling Jinxes until we smiled."

Ginny giggled.

"Umm, Mummy?" she asked tentatively.

"Mmm hmm?"

"What do we do now?"

"Right now, you sleep. Would you like me to take you home, or would you like to head to Gryffindor Tower?"

"I think I'll sleep here tonight. I've missed it." Though the day was just beginning according to the sun, it felt like night-time to Ginny.

Kissing her mother, she wandered toward Gryffindor Tower. Instead of heading toward her own dormitory, Ginny veered the other way, toward the boys'.

Carefully pushing the door open, she stepped inside. Harry laid on the bed nearest the window. He'd even left his shoes on. Ron and Hermione took another two beds of the room. Their arms stretched across the gap, hands drifting apart as they fell into deeper sleep. Ginny smiled; at least Ron wasn't as stupid as he looked. He _did_ get the girl.

With the little strength she had left, Ginny dragged a rocking chair from the corner, over the Harry's bedside. Scrambling into it, she curled into a ball. Instinctively, her hand found Harry's.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny whispered. "You've done it again. I'm sorry it cost you so much."

The small girl settled into herself whilst attempting to free her mind. There was much to think about. Her family was falling apart, so many had died, Hogwarts was crumbling, there was a definite possibility of Ginny not having a seventh year, and Harry. There was a definite possibility Harry would never be the same.

At the very least, there would be months before he stopped blaming himself. Many more months would follow before he would figure out what to do with his life. He'd recently acquired an orphaned godson that he was ill equipped to care for. He had no place he could call his home without hesitation. And even after he had it all figured out, he might sink into guilt, depressions, and nightmares for the rest of his time on earth.

Ginny knew that they would not rush into each other's arms the next morning, declaring undying love. In fact, if she remained by his bed when he awoke, it would be a very awkward situation. It would be weeks at the very least before they began a relationship again. Perhaps, they never would. Yet Ginny chose not to care. The boy that Ginevra Weasley loved had left for a year, with no word of how his day was, if he was well, or if he was dead. Ginny felt that she was entitled to these few hours of carefree bliss.

If only for that day, let all we be well.

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**Disclaimer: Haven't you read today's headlines? I now own the rights to Harry Potter after having not owned it for the past decade or so of its existence.**

**A/N: THE END! That was fun! I'd always sort of wondered, not just what Ginny's view was, but what was she doing when he was fighting Voldemort or winning a tournament? Was she standing perfectly still, hanging on his every word? No! She was thinking and feeling and breathing and shifting her feet and whispering to the people next to her! That was very fun. Sorry to everyone who I was rude to for abandoning my story. I'm sorry; I wasn't really serious. I hardly ever am. Not true—I can be very serious when I need to. Remember, even when this story is five years old, still review! I'll check my e-mail forever, I promise! Stay tuned for whatever I'm up to next.**

**THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME!**

**Love, Mebmarker24**


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Harry Potter, Humor, Romance