MetaFic

Ginny hurried through the school hallways, late to breakfast that Sunday morning. She had stayed up later than she had planned working on Harry’s card. All in all she was very pleased; the poem was not too fan-girl but not too impersonal, either. She hoped, being homemade, it would stand out from the usual mass of cards his well-wishers sent.

She adopted a more belligerent expression as she approached the Great Hall, and she stormed through the doors stomping her feet lightly. She paused to blink, rub her eyes and blink again. The Hall looked like a Twins prank gone bad. Lurid pink flowers and obnoxiously red hearts were everywhere, and misshapen cherubs lurched about firing golden darts of some sort. Many of the boys in the Hall appeared to have no appetite, and the groups of post owls at each table were larger than normal. Ginny noticed an envelope near the Twins with her name in Daddy’s writing on the outside.

“What did you do?” she harshly whispered to her older brothers. “This is over the top even for you two. Mum’s next Howler might not be for me, after all!”

“Next Howler?” Fred asked sharply.

George looked at her closely. “What do you know that we don’t, oh precious-”

“Don’t you mean vicious?”

“-Oh vicious sister dearest?”

Ginny gave a mild snort. “Like I’d tell the Twit Twins anything important.”

“Perhaps,” Fred muttered, “we are best off staying in the dark.”

“It seems, since our sister dearest has blossomed into the Gryffindor Hellion, we Twit Twins have been cast out of the limelight,” George continued.

“And to tell the truth, sometimes it’s fun to watch from the sidelines,” Fred finished.

Ginny glared at her brothers, but she sat next to them and began scooping bangers, eggs and toast onto a plate.

“Ginevra, your tardiness to breakfast is not appreciated,” a voice chided from down the table.

“Shut up,” Ginny snapped in response.

“That is no way to speak to a prefect,” Percy huffed.

“Oh, really? Perhaps you’re right. I can see why you’re considered the smartest. After Bill, of course,” Ginny drawled. “Still, I think it’s a perfectly acceptable way to talk to a nosy pig.”

“I beg your pardon!” Percy sputtered. “A what?”

“Percy IG-natius, P-I-G. Why don’t you take your overly-large nose and go root about in the robes of some Ravenclaw prefect. I hear you’ve found some success there.”

Fred and George looked at each other, and then at Percy, with an unholy glee. Every Gryffindor within earshot of Ginny turned and stared at the still-sputtering prefect, and his face turned a mottled Weasley red. Grinning slightly, Ginny returned to her breakfast in relative peace. She was contemplating a second helping of eggs when the Headmaster stood and spread his arms wide. The sounds of talking students and clanking utensils quickly ceased as everyone looked to the staff table. Since Halloween, few of the Headmaster’s announcements had been innocent or casual.

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly as the students’ attention turned towards him. “I do hope you took the time to notice the unique decorations about the Hall this morning. Professor Lockhart has graciously planned a riotous holiday diversion for us all today.” Lockhart stood, his patented smile sweeping the Hall as a smattering of girls clapped and simpered at him. Dumbledore curtly motioned for him to sit back down.

Oh, bugger, Ginny thought in panic. I could have sworn he said the prank was set for lunch. I don’t have my card with me!

“Yes, yes, thank you, Professor. From nine until eleven this morning, each house’s common room entrance will remain open, though they will be guarded by the appropriate Head of House for your safety. During that time, the Cupids Professor Lockhart has so generously provided will deliver messages of heartfelt devotion to whomever you think deserves them.” The four Heads of House cast a look at Lockhart that would have frozen an erumpent in mid-charge. “The Cupids will be available until dinner tonight to deliver messages to any students in the corridors, grounds, or in the library. But you only have this narrow window of opportunity to reach your paramours while in their common rooms. Enjoy your day!” As the Headmaster sat and immediately began what appeared to be a somewhat heated conversation with his Heads of House, the noise level in the Hall swelled, punctuated by all manner of giggling from many of the girls. Ginny merely sighed with relief; she would have the card with her at the right time after all.

Lockhart stood again, his patented smile glaring in the morning sun, and also addressed the students. Dumbledore and McGonagall looked up from their conversation and frowned, but they did not interfere. “Students! Can everyone hear me? Good, good. Before we begin this day’s festivities, I just want to say thank you for the fifty-one cards I have received, so far, from you students. Believe me when I tell you I personally cherish each and every one of them!” Ginny wondered how he was able to say that without his smile changing one bit.

Fred handed her the envelope with her name on it. “Here, Ginny, this came for you with the packet of notes from Mum and Dad. So, are you one of his fifty-one devoted fans?”

Ginny glared at her brothers and rolled her eyes. They obviously had not overheard the frantic, whispered discussion between Mum and Dad about how to afford five sets of seven books. Ginny had not heard all of their conversation, but each child had books so her parents had found a way. It galled her to know that whatever her parent’s sacrifice for those books had been, it was in vain. Professor Lockhart barely referred to any of the magic described in his books, and he definitely did not teach any of it. And Mum still idolized the man!

Tom had cottoned on to Professor Lockhart by the end of the second week of classes. For Ginny, that had been the first concrete example of Tom’s wisdom. She had begun writing more and more to Tom, pouring her heart into the diary entries. She told him her deepest secrets and fears and many other things beyond her frustrations with Professor Lockhart and how every girl in the school fawned over him.

Ginny’s musings were interrupted by Fred’s insistent question. “Well? Are you?” he asked, grinning.

Ginny let out a brief, annoyed growl. “Oh, I’ll give him a card,” she groused. “Can you get me a Quick-Quotes Quill and a Fwooper before the sun sets?”

The Twins looked at her, their faces slack with shock. “Perhaps,” Fred said after a pregnant pause, “vicious is understating it a bit.”

“Yeah, I think you’re on to something, Fred,” replied George, not taking his eyes off of Ginny. “But… do you think that would work? How could we find out without being driven insane?”

“I doubt anyone would notice a difference,” Ginny replied acerbically. “Why don’t you ask Hermione if she sent a card to that ponce? A Knut says she did,” Ginny added.

George regarded her the way one would watch a dangerous creature. After a moment, however, he chuckled. “Not going to take that bet. She spent a lot of her study time last night muttering about the lack of school owls.”

“Watch this,” Ginny whispered. “All right there, Hermione?” she called in a loud voice. The bushy-haired girl looked at her with a puzzled frown. Ginny nodded her head towards the staff table, where Lockhart was holding court before a crowd of adoring girls. She gave an exaggerated wink and began to laugh. As Hermione turned beet red, the Twins and Neville began to laugh, too.

“You know, you can be an awful person sometimes,” Hermione huffed.

Her reaction caused Ginny to stop laughing and look down at the table in shame. Hermione was one of the few girls in Gryffindor who still talked to her, and she did not deserve to be embarrassed like that. “Sorry,” Ginny replied meekly. “I got carried away and didn’t think.”

“Apology accepted,” Hermione replied a bit stiffly.

Ginny gave her a weak smile and rose from the table. “I have some reading to do. I’ll see you later?” The Twins nodded, turned away, and began discussing how to get a Quick-Quotes Quill to record a non-human sound.

She trudged back to the Gryffindor dormitories, ignoring the pointed look McGonagall gave her as she stepped through the portrait hole. Climbing onto her bed, Ginny set her dad’s Valentine card on the duvet before her and just stared at it. She decided to open it, just to know that someone actually loved her, so she would not feel so lonely. What she really wanted to do was tell Tom about what was happening in the school. He was always so keen to hear about who had done what and when they had done it. He was one of the few people she knew who never judged based on money or blood status. Tom had made her feel important and less alone. Well, lately that was not so true, she admitted to herself.

I’m his friend, why would he think he had to possess me? Professor Dumbledore and Harry don’t know Tom. They must be wrong about the diary being Dark. Ginny drew a sharp gasp. What if Tom himself doesn’t know his diary is Dark? Or what if he was cursed, trapped in a diary alone forever? He never really said what happened to him, and he complained so little while listening so much! Ginny shuddered; her worst nightmare was to be imprisoned alone. Maybe that’s why he possesses me, because he’s so afraid of being alone, too. Ginny shook away that thought; it only made her feel more confused about how Tom was treating her.

Ginny started to worry at the key under her robes but, feeling foolish, she stopped. Instead she decided to settle back against her pillows and close her eyes. She could feel the key against her chest, and it made her think about Harry. If that buffoon Lockhart got fifty-something cards, how many might a real hero like Harry get? As her doubts grew about giving her card to Professor Dumbledore, the Muggle motto “Fortune favours the bold” leapt to mind. Ginny was quite serious about becoming Harry’s friend, and a simple card was the first step in that direction. She refused to indulge in any of her childhood fantasies about The Boy Who Lived, not when she knew the real Harry Potter. She heaved a frustrated sigh; it would be another two whole days before she would see Harry again. This was hard enough already without Tom. She really did miss him so. She hoped that perhaps he would be returned to her that night.

While mentally composing an apologetic diary entry Tom might accept, Ginny heard giggling and the room’s door opening. Her dorm mates had returned. She remained lying against her pillows but opened her eyes to watch the girls. First through the door was Vivien Cooper. She was nice, but she was Muggle-born and deathly certain she would be the next victim of Slytherin’s monster. The guilt of maybe being responsible for the petrifaction attacks, of causing that fear, weighed heavily upon Ginny. She watched as Vivien put several cards in her trunk at the foot of her bed.

A condescending voice said, “Ooh, look! Even Ginny got a card today!”

Ginny grit her teeth. Stupid Kates. Kathryn Rosyth and Catherine deVaux were her other two roommates. Fred and George had originally used “The Kates” as a mocking insult. Unfortunately, The Kates thought it funny and had begun using it themselves. When in a good mood, Ginny referred to them as merely snotty and snide. Although sorted into Gryffindor, Ginny occasionally thought their families had been You-Know-Who’s supporters in the war. While usually polite to Vivien, they were always antagonistic towards her. She heard them refer to her as “that Blood-traitor” several times when they thought they were alone or that she was not listening.

“Kate! I think it’s only a card from Daddy!” giggled the brunette Kate. She brandished a thick handful of cards in front of Ginny.

“Poor Ginny,” giggled the raven-haired Kate. “And I do mean poor…” Placing a large stack of cards on her desk, she said, “Well, it’s always good to know that Daddy still loves us, right? Although you know… I think that annoying boy, Colin, would have sent her a card, but it’s so hard to do so when Petrified.”

Ginny wanted to die of shame when they mentioned Colin. However, Vivien’s frightened start roused her from her funk. “Don’t you vapid b- I mean witches have somewhere else to be?” Ginny snapped at The Kates.

Raven-haired Kate gave Ginny a frosty smile. “As a matter of fact, I’m certain there are some of those dreadful dwarves downstairs with more cards for us. Just think, Ginny, if you were ever to become remotely pretty, you might get more than just a card from Daddy.” They both swept out of the room wearing malicious smiles.

“Sometimes it’s really hard to ignore those two,” she groused to Vivien.

The other girl was still pale and clearly frightened. Avoiding Ginny’s eyes she said, “They can be a bit… well… much, I guess. Still, poor Colin. You know,” she whispered, smiling slightly, “I think he was a bit taken with you.”

Ginny sighed sadly. “Just my luck, yeah?” Grateful for Vivien’s effort to comfort her, Ginny tried to return the favour. “I’ll bet those Dark Magic things, or whatever, that Professor Dumbledore brought here found the monster and killed it. I wouldn’t worry anymore.”

Vivien wrung her hands and looked at Ginny wide-eyed. She gave another hesitant smile and then silently left the room, too.

“Oh, good job, Weasley. That went just splendidly,” muttered Ginny dispiritedly. She drew the curtains about her bed and lay back on her pillows again. Ginny held the unread card from her father over her heart, against where her key lay. But even together they were not enough. Feeling unloved, lonely, and lost, she closed her eyes and began to cry silently.

A good cry almost always helped Ginny regain her emotional footing. Unfortunately this was one of the rare times when it was no help whatsoever. Even trying to take a nap was a pointless exercise. She got up, washed her face, and applied a glamour charm so it was not apparent she had been crying. Before leaving the room she also cast a weak Cheering Charm on herself. How else can I make it through this day? she wondered.

Stepping off the stairs and into the common room, Ginny was greeted by a scene of pandemonium. Ron was running about in a panic, waving his arms about his face and head. He was being chased by a large pair of red lips, which tried to kiss his cheek while screeching, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Ronald!” in a voice that sounded like Auntie Muriel’s. Ginny’s mood immediately improved.

Trust the Twins to cheer me up, she thought. She went to the table where the Twins sat with Neville and Hermione, all enjoying the show.

“What did the prat do this time?” she asked to the table at large. George snorted and told her Ron had given Hermione a hard time about sending a Valentine to Lockhart and getting four herself.

“You got four?!” Ginny asked excitedly. “Who are they from? Do you know? What sort of message was inside? Have you met the boys before?”

“Slow down, Ginny,” Neville chuckled softly.

“Look, Hermione. I am … umm… I apologise for teasing you this morning. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that. I’m certain Mum also sent Lockhart a card. Maybe two.”

“It’s okay, Ginny. That was pretty clever; an insinuation that tricked me into confirming the insinuation. You wouldn’t be related to those two would you?” Hermione grinned and pointed to the Twins, who looked horrified at her comment.

“The Gryffindor Hellion?” George responded.

“Who would ever admit to being related to her?” Fred added.

“Thanks, guys, I guess,” Ginny muttered dis-heartedly. Taking a deep breath, she put on a smile. “So who are they from?” she asked Hermione.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Hermione replied. “One is from my Dad -”

“Really? Me, too,” Ginny interrupted.

“Why would Hermione’s Dad send you a Valentine card?” asked Fred, as if he were mulling over the meaning of life.

Ginny swatted him on the shoulder. “Prat.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and giggled. “I knew what you meant, Ginny! I also got one each from Fred and George.” Ginny raised her eyebrows at this. “Well, I did check them as carefully as I could for pranks. Surprisingly they were on the up and up!” In a softer voice she added, “And… um… Neville also gave me one.”

Ginny ignored her two brothers and turned to Neville. “You did! That is so sweet!” He began to blush and ducked his head. “What about you, Neville?” He mumbled something, while Hermione began to blush. Noticing the byplay, Ginny changed the subject. “And what about my handsome brothers?”

George smiled. “That’s just us, Fred. Bill and Charlie already left school! Mum and Dad sent us one, of course, and then we got one each from Katie, Alicia, and Angelina.”

Ginny laughed and began to chant, “Gryffindor’s Beaters and Chasers, sitting in a tree -”

“Oi, we’ll be having none of that, now!” Fred exclaimed, and they all laughed.

“We’re going to put these away,” George said, motioning to their cards, “and then meet you three for lunch. Sound like a plan?”

“Definitely,” Hermione replied.

“Oh!” exclaimed Ginny. “Let me put Dad’s Valentine on my night stand, and I’ll be right back down.”

A short while later Ginny led the five of them to seats at the end of the Gryffindor table furthest from the staff table. While the Hall was still a sickening pink, at least the Cupids were gone.

Fred looked at Ginny in confusion and asked, “Why are we sitting here, oh vicious sister dearest?”

“Do you see this place?” Ginny replied. “It couldn’t be grosser if one of your pranks went wrong.”

“She has a point,” said George, looking about the Hall. “Although… this does give us a target to surpass!”

“You ought to rethink that,” warned Ginny. “Do you remember the look McGonagall and Snape gave Lockhart this morning? Do you want them that mad at you? How close to the staff table do you want to be if they’re brassed off a second time today? Maybe the further from the staff table, the better, yeah?”

Hermione glanced in Ginny’s direction, her expression unreadable.

The Twins shared an indecipherable look. “Perhaps our vicious sister dearest speaketh the truth. What say ye, oh twinest of brothers?” mused Fred.

“Perhaps,” George said thoughtfully, “we ought to take a seat next to the giant squid, just to be safe.”

As they sat at the furthest end of the Gryffindor table, The Kates wandered in. “Ginny, guess what?” the raven-haired Kate exclaimed loudly. “Madam Pince got eight Valentine cards. If you’re lucky and trick some boy into going out with you by seventh year, maybe you can tie her total before you leave school!”

Neville rolled his eyes in response, and Hermione glared at the pair, while the Twins blew kisses and batted their eye lashes at them. Ginny had already drawn her wand to hex them when she realised she was going to get a far greater detention soon. Compared to pranking the staff table, hexing The Kates was small potatoes.

The Kates regarded her warily as Ginny laughed. “You have no idea.” Slipping her wand back into her robes, she touched the Valentine envelope sitting in the same pocket. Ginny smiled and brushed her robes more, as if to smooth them out; the feel of the card reassured her.

Sitting at the very end of the table, she would not have to walk far when Dumbledore took her out of the Hall sometime during lunch. Although she knew the event was staged, to walk the length of the Hall with everyone looking at her would be too much. She patted Harry’s card and smoothed the front of her robes one more time. Things were beginning to look good today after all. Sometime within the next hour she was going to earn a place in Hogwarts: A History.

Leave it up to Hermione to notice she was not eating at the usual Weasley pace. While none of them were as bad as Ron, they all liked their food. So Ginny knew that picking at her lunch might get someone’s attention. Try as she might, she could not seem to chew or swallow anything she put in her mouth. For all she knew she could be chewing... what was that stuff again? Oh yeah, Perspex.

“Ginny,” Hermione whispered, “are you all right? I know you’ve felt singled out since Thursday, but it’s going to be okay.”

“Trust me,” Ginny whispered in reply. “Pretty soon everything will be just fine.” She gave Hermione a sneaky smile.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What have you done? Do you really want to be in trouble?”

Ginny just winked, put her finger to her lips, and made a soft shushing noise.

Hermione went pale and sputtered, “Ohmygod, you’ve done something here? Now? You’re going to be expelled!”

When the professors finished eating, the Headmaster rose and spread his arms out, gaining the students’ attention and ending their conversations. “I believe we have all had a special morning this morning. I can say with certainty that Hogwarts will never see another morning such as this one.” Dumbledore gave his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor a mirthless smile and led the staff in a round of polite applause.

Lockhart stood and took several overly extravagant bows. “Headmaster,” he projected into the Hall, “you are too kind! Why just the other day I was telling the Minister-”

A very loud pop echoed through the Great Hall. Confused and frightened, the students looked about and saw that everyone was fine. As their attention returned to the staff table, they began to snicker and chuckle nervously. Every professor sported bright red hair.

Hermione turned to look at Ginny with an expression of shock. “You didn’t?” she whispered harshly. “Are you insane?!” she hissed in panic. Ginny fought to keep her expression totally innocent and then winked again at Hermione, who began muttering, over and over, “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”

With another loud pop, a banner appeared over the staff table reading "Red-heads have more fun!" in bright red letters outlined in gold and shooting silver sparks.

The students, though initially uncertain how to react, began to laugh openly. When the banner appeared over the table, they gasped. As one, they all turned to look at Fred and George. The Twins initial laughter had died, and they looked stunned and confused, like deer caught in the headlights.

“It wasn’t us! We swear!” they exclaimed, their voices pitched high with fear.

As the first banner faded, a new banner appeared with yet another pop. With the same coloured letters as before, it read "The Longer the Hair, the Greater the Dare!" This time, the shower of sparks was bright pink.

Lockhart frowned at the sparks falling about him and, pulling a mirror from his pocket, gave a frightened shriek when he saw his red hair. The Headmaster and the remaining staff members looked up at the banner above them. They followed Dumbledore’s gaze as he slowly turned to look at Ginny at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Despite her best effort to keep an innocent expression, Ginny began laughing like a madwoman. Snape flicked his wand to banish the letters. All he accomplished was to cause a large number of pink sparks to shoot directly at him.

“SILENCE!” Dumbledore commanded. The banner faded away, and a worried hush fell over the Hall as Ginny tried unsuccessfully to stifle her own laughter

With a voice that left no doubt why even You-Know-Who feared him, Dumbledore ordered, “Professor McGonagall, you will collect Miss Weasley and bring her to my office immediately.” He then stormed out of the Hall, the main doors flying opening before he was halfway down the centre aisle. In the dead quiet that followed, a still-giggling Ginny was amazed by the number of students from all Houses who stared at her and then began exchanging money.

Professor McGonagall marched down the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, students from both houses vaulting over their tables to avoid being on the same side as the furious Deputy Headmistress. Gryffindors with no place else to go were actually hiding beneath the table.

Ginny finally stopped laughing. Hermione, sitting next to her, put her head down and appeared to be staring at China while still repeating her “ohmygod” mantra as fast as she could.

McGonagall loomed over Ginny and spoke in a tone that would give a Dementor chills. “Miss Weasley, your meal has ended. You will come accompany me right now to the Headmaster’s office, where we will discuss these… activities.”

There was a heavy silence as Ginny nervously rose and followed her Head of House out of the Hall. Passing through the doorway Ginny took a deep breath, turned around, and shouted, “Beware the Gryffindor Hellion!”

Just before the doors closed with a resounding thud, Ginny heard the Twins laugh and exclaim, “That's our sister!”

Despite her brave outburst while leaving the Great Hall, Ginny was a nervous wreck. She realised she did not know how to take the prank. What if Dumbledore was really angry? She was getting no help from Professor McGonagall. The woman stared straight down the hallway, and she never stopped frowning. They walked up to a stone gargoyle along a nondescript corridor and stopped. McGonagall looked at the gargoyle and spat, “Acid Pops.”

Ginny let out a small gasp as the stone figure leapt out of the way, revealing a moving spiral staircase. McGonagall motioned for her to ride the stairs up to the top and stepped on behind her. At the top the professor moved past her and banged a large door knocker in the shape of a griffin. Ginny followed her into an expansive yet comfortable office.

Professor Dumbledore beamed at her from behind a desk opposite the door. “Come in, Miss Weasley. We have certainly had some very interesting meals these past several days, have we not?”

McGonagall looked at Ginny and conjured a comfortable chair. “Sit down, child,” she said kindly. “You look like you are about to faint. Is there anything we can get you?”

Now that the event was over and the adrenaline was wearing off, Ginny felt chilled and clammy. “A basin please, ma’am, and quickly. I think I’m going to be sick!” she croaked. A moment later a basin and stand appeared next to her, and a screen materialised for privacy. She barely squawked out a “thank you” before she lost the battle with her nerves and vomited into the bowl. When she felt that her stomach was finally settled, she raised her head and found several towels hanging off the basin stand. One was damp and cool, a second damp and warm, while the third was dry. She used the cool towel to wipe her face and felt better.

“Thank you, Professor. I’m really sorry about this,” she added sheepishly. The basin and screen both vanished.

“Nonsense, child, your reaction was certainly expected given the pressure you have been under these past several days,” replied Dumbledore. “Actually, I am rather pleased with our efforts to set up this afternoon’s spectacle.

“At dinner tonight I will announce your punishment to the school as a way to ensure that nothing so blatantly disrespectful happens again. You will serve detention with me every Tuesday and Thursday from last class until curfew, and every Saturday from after breakfast until curfew, through the end of the school term. When you take your meals in the Great Hall, you will do so in the company of your seventh year prefects. Additionally, your movements about the castle will be restricted to certain areas and times. When not in detention, you will be allowed to travel to and from classes and to the Great Hall for meals. At all other times you must remain in the Gryffindor common room. While these measures sound appropriately harsh, they are actually intended to avoid unnecessary interactions with students outside your house. Professor McGonagall can control your interactions within Gryffindor tower.”

“I will be having a meeting with all of my house prefects after I leave here,” Professor McGonagall informed the Headmaster.

“Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore continued, “I want you to remain here until after dinner this evening. That may or may not hold down the gossip.” Ginny gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yes, some things never seem to change here, do they? Staying here gives you a cover for your punishment and keeps you from harassment by other students, at least initially.”

"I can’t wait until tomorrow morning,” Ginny sighed dejectedly. “If you thought Mum’s Howler the other day was bad, just wait until she gets the owls from Professor McGonagall and Percy.”

Dumbledore smiled compassionately. “While I cannot prevent you from receiving a Howler from your mother, I can request that none be delivered during meals. I will let Molly know there have been enough…” he paused for a second, “enough disruptions in the Great Hall over this incident.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she said humbly, giving Dumbledore a slight smile. “I can’t imagine Mum not sending a Howler. My poor housemates, huh? Could I get my bag and a few textbooks to do my homework while I’m here?”

Dumbledore handed her a parchment and quill. “Write down what you need, and I will have them sent here.” He conjured up a desk and chair for her. “Professor McGonagall and I must ensure that a modicum of control remains within these walls for the remainder of this day. We shall also be sending owls to your parents.” Ginny blanched and shrank in her chair. “While we are away, why don’t you rest? If you choose to study, your materials will be here within the hour.”

As Dumbledore and McGonagall headed to the door, Ginny remembered the Valentine in her pocket. “Professor Dumbledore!” she called out, feeling foolish at her change of topic. When the Headmaster turned around, she stammered, “If you’re going to see Harry, would you please take this Valentine for him? Tell him… umm… I look forward to seeing him again.”

Dumbledore smiled and took the card. “I am not going there right away, but I will be seeing him and his guardians later this afternoon. I will ensure this is personally delivered.” With that he and McGonagall disappeared through his office door.

Ginny sat back, placed her hand over the key under her robes, and let out a long, shuddering sigh. For better or worse she had just sent Harry Potter a Valentine. Emotionally and physically spent, she was drifting to sleep in the chair when a thought whirled through her fading consciousness. “I wonder what The Kates would think of that?”

Ginny was floating in a featureless dream when a hand gently shook her shoulder. Opening her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings, she sat straight up and gasped. Professor Dumbledore was standing before her, and a tray with dinner waited next to her chair.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean any disrespect by not studying!”

Dumbledore actually chuckled and told her, “I am pleased you find my furniture that comfortable. You have had a rough several days, possibly even longer. You needed your rest, young lady. Eat. It is past dinner time, and I think your friends are looking forward to your return to Gryffindor tower.”

An hour later Ginny found herself being escorted back to her common room by Sophie L’Orinde, one of her seventh year prefects.

Sophie gave her an odd look. “Expect a rather chilly reception when we get back to the common room. You’re quite unpopular right now. We had a good chance for the House Cup this year, but fifty points is a lot to get back,” she warned.

Ginny gasped. “Fifty points! Professor Dumbledore never mentioned taking points!”

“You should be thankful it wasn’t more,” the prefect snapped. She paused and sighed, “Whatever were you thinking? On the other hand,” Sophie said more kindly, “your twin brothers and their two friends lost fifty points apiece last spring.”

“What?” replied Ginny in surprise.

“Oh yes, two hundred points. Perhaps, after you’ve spent some time with me, you will realize your twin brothers’ antics aren’t always as popular as they seem to think, and Percy is not quite the example of prefect perfection.” Sophie gave her a kindly smile and said, “Well, we’ve wasted enough time chit-chatting! Quickly now, let’s get back to the tower.”

Stepping through the portrait hole, Ginny noticed everyone looking at her. The Gryffindors’ expressions varied from mild disgust to outright anger. Sophie patted her on the shoulder and continued up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Ginny was surprised to see all four of her brothers waiting for her.

Percy spoke first, pompously rounding on her. “Ginevra, I want to discuss the Headmaster’s punishment with you -” He never finished his speech. Instead, he began hopping on his right leg and holding his left shin.

“The Headmaster has already discussed my punishment with me, pig. I doubt there is anything you could add,” Ginny spat.

“You can’t attack a prefect,” he wheezed in outrage. “Another five points from -”

Percy fell forward with a muffled thud. Ron stood over him and crossed his arms. “Just shut it, Percy. What’s wrong with you, anyway? You’ve been a bloody berk ever since you received that bloody badge. You talk to my sister like that again and I’ll kick your arse halfway up your throat!”

“This is absolutely not allowed! You can not go about attacking other students at will. Fred, George - I’ll need your help as witnesses when I report to Professor McGonagall.”

“Give it up, pig,” said George.

“We aren’t talking about some cobbled up rules, we’re talking about our sister. Your sister, too, you wanker,” snarled Fred.

“If we had been a bit nicer to Ginny all along, she wouldn’t have got in trouble. It’s scary coming here for the first time, even with the likes of you about,” said Ron.

Stunned by the show of support, especially from Ron, Ginny went over towards him, gave him a warm hug, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Ron. That was the nicest thing anyone has said to me for a long time.”

“You know, Fred,” George mused, “we have a decision to make. We can support Ron, and have our precious -”

“Vicious, it’s vicious,” hissed Fred.

“- Sister give us hugs, or we can support pig and spend the rest of our lives grasping our shins.”

“You know, George,” Fred repeated, “since you put it that way, I think the wise choice is clear. Don’t you have rounds or something, Percy? We’ll make sure Ginny stays safe. Your sort of help is not appreciated or necessary.”

Her older brother stood with as much dignity as he could manage with a bruised shin. “Mum will hear about this, all of it!” he huffed and then hobbled off towards the portrait hole.

Ginny let out a shuddering sigh after the portrait closed. “He’s probably going to owl Mum right now. I know Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both wrote letters to Mum; they were sent even before I came back here. Does he honestly think he can say something the Headmaster and McGonagall didn’t?”

“Well…” Fred drawled, “he can try to send an owl. Oddly enough all the school owls are being used, and Hermes is off delivering a letter to Bill in Egypt.”

“How did you get Hermes to take your letter?”

“You know,” George drawled, “you might be the Gryffindor Hellion, but we have been known to pull a prank -”

“- Or three,” Fred chimed in.

“- In our time,” finished George.

Ginny giggled, honestly and easily, for the first time in what seemed like forever. There was nothing left to do but ignore the stares and whispers. But before she saw Harry for the first time, she wanted to learn more about him, his godfather, and the mysterious Mr. Lupin. She would need the library, which was now effectively off limits to her. Ginny pondered how to get the books she needed.

“Did Dumbledore really give you detention with him personally until the end of the term?” Ron asked in awe. She nodded, not sure what to say. Ron blanched and continued in a near whisper. “He told us at dinner that you have detention every Tuesday and Thursday after classes and all day Saturday. That’s true, too?” Once again Ginny nodded and this time gave her brothers a small shrug.

“Blimey, Ginny! The fifty points is one thing, but getting assigned detention with the Headmaster is something even Fred and I haven’t accomplished. Our little sister,” said George, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “She’s all grown up now.” He and Fred both gave Ginny appreciative hugs.

“Do you think you could teach us how you did that stuff?” Fred asked.

Ginny pretended to mull over her answer. “Not today, and certainly not for the rest of this term. But it’s possible you might be taught those charms someday. You can increase your chances by doing me a favour.”

“Er… Could I get in on this favour, too?” asked Ron.

“Certainly,” Ginny replied. “Professor Dumbledore assigned me an essay to begin my detention.” Her three brothers winced as one. “Because of my minders and curfews, I can’t really go to the library whenever I want. Could you three get me some books on the Potter family and James Potter’s friends?”

“The Potter family?” Ron blurted loudly. “Blimey, I thought you were our expert on them! Dad must’ve read you the Harry Potter story before bed every night until just before you left to come here.”

Ginny felt her cheeks begin to burn with a blush. “Gosh, Ron, do you think you could speak up a bit? I’m sure the folks at the Leaky Cauldron couldn’t quite hear you,” she snapped in reply. “This is for a school paper. I need to know more than the story of The Boy Who Lived. I need to know about his parents and their friends and how they were betrayed, if that is in a textbook anywhere.”

“We’ll look for you, Ginny, even if it ruins our reputation to be seen in the library. That’s how much we love you!” said Fred.

“Is it okay if we ask Hermione to help?” George asked. “If anyone knows what books to get, it’ll be her. She’s going to be so bored here after next year.”

Ginny looked at the Twins in confusion. “Why?”

“We figure even if she slows up a bit next year, it will take her all of three years to read the entire school library.”

“She’s a swot,” added Ron, nodding. The Twins each promptly slapped the back of his head. “What the bloody hell did you do that for?” he whined.

“If you’d ever get yourself away from Wood’s Quidditch sewing circle, you’d find she’s quite funny and has a wicked sense for pranks,” said Fred.

“Half the stuff we’ve done this year was her idea!” said George, agreeing with Fred’s appraisal.

“Wait. The Mini-McGonagall is helping you with pranks? I’m sorry, but that’s just too hard to believe. She would never break a rule, everyone knows that!”

“Ahh…” Fred and George said simultaneously.

“Our wee baby brother is beginning to figure it out,” George continued.

Ron stared at his brothers, shaking his head. “No. That’s just barmy. She’s not like that.”

“How would you know what she’s like?” replied Fred. “You seem to spend every waking hour with Wood, McLaggen, Creighton, Finnegan, and Thomas. When the six of you begin to talk Quidditch, You-Know-Who himself could walk into the common room and you wouldn’t notice. You seriously need to pull your head outta your pitch once in a while and be like us, Ronnie! There’s a whole world out there filled with people who are brilliant in more ways than one.”

Ron only shook his head in disbelief.

“Suit yourself, Ron, but never say we didn’t warn you.” With that the Twins walked off, whispering about quills and Fwoopers again. Ron wandered back to his Quidditch group, and Ginny found herself standing in the middle of the common room all alone.

Sighing sadly, she said to no one in particular, “I hope they remember to get some books for me.”

Despite Ginny’s worries, her brothers and Hermione brought her a number of books and newspaper articles about the Potters and the Voldemort Uprising. Over the next two days she was fascinated to learn that the children’s stories she had always heard were very simplistic versions of the disaster. She also learned that no-one really knew why You-Know-Who had wanted to kill the Potters. Nor did scholarly recountings of that night provide any clues about why Harry had lived or what happened to him afterwards. They referred to the same rumours and guesses found in the Daily Prophet but added nothing more. Ginny began to appreciate how carefully Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Black had kept Harry hidden and guarded.

Ginny spent several hours Sunday night looking at pictures of the Potter family and their friends. She was very impressed that Harry’s parents had been Head Boy and Head Girl, and Harry made a most adorable baby. Looking at the photos of his parents and seeing him last week made her realise how much he looked like his father, except he had his mum’s eyes. Even though her hair was a different shade of red, the pictures of Lily Potter were almost enough to make Ginny believe that she might someday be pretty, too.

Sirius… Oh, Merlin! He was as handsome then as now. She wondered briefly why he had not married, and then she smacked her forehead with the book. The man had spent the last eleven years keeping the saviour of the wizarding world safe from harm. When did he have time to seriously court anyone? It suddenly dawned on Ginny that Sirius’ multitudes of reported romances were as much a cover story as her detentions.

What little she read about Peter Pettigrew sickened her; Azkaban was too good for someone who would offer his best friends and their baby up for murder. The last of James’ friends, however, caused her the greatest concern. Even in the old pictures, Remus Lupin wore the same oddly tired look as he had last week. And now Ginny knew why. He was a werewolf.

That knowledge shocked Ginny to her core. All of this secrecy and protection for Harry, and at any moment he could be killed by a werewolf? It did not make sense! Suddenly she felt like her blood had turned to ice. Were all three of them already werewolves? Was that why Harry had to stay hidden? She desperately wanted to ask Professor Dumbledore about this but feared that if she said anything she would not be allowed to see Harry. Tom probably would have known what to do - he was always so wise and helpful - but he, too, was out of reach. She just did not understand it, but she vowed to be very careful when she finally saw Harry.

Tuesday afternoon after Herbology, Ginny scurried back to her dorm so she could shower and change before going to the Headmaster’s office. It just would not do to meet Harry again smelling of dragon dung and with compost under her fingernails.

Hurrying through the castle so she would not be late, Ginny glanced at the directions Sophie had given her that morning to get to the Headmaster’s office. She abruptly stopped and looked across the open vault of the castle. Where were the stairs? She pulled out her chart of Mercury’s movements and groaned. Her shower had taken longer than she anticipated, and now she had run afoul of the stairs’ movements; they would not be in the correct position for four minutes. Pacing furiously in the corridor, Ginny felt that those were the longest four minutes of her life. Before the stairs were completely aligned, she leapt across the remaining gap and raced towards the Headmaster’s office.

Flying around the corner towards the gargoyle, Ginny slid to a halt. In a fancy chintz chair in the centre of the corridor, Professor Dumbledore sat gazing at a pocket watch. He looked up at the clatter of her feet, and she felt herself grow beet red.

“Professor, Sir!” Ginny panted, out of breath. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had Herbology and wanted to wash up a bit before reporting here,” she continued to pant.

Dumbledore stared at her intently for a moment and then gave her a curious smile. Surely he did not suspect that she had taken extra time for a complete shower, washing and carefully brushing out her hair and finding her best school robes to wear?

“No harm done, Miss Weasley!” Dumbledore said, apparently accepting her apology. “I realised the alignment of the stairs might impede you. I commend you for your dedication. You should have been delayed four minutes, and yet you made it here a mere three and a half late. Well done!”

He stood, vanished the chair, and told Ginny to come along. She followed in Dumbledore’s wake, eventually walking through a portion of the castle she had not seen before. The hallways had an air of abandonment that she could emphasise with, and it fed her unease. The Headmaster was not concerned that she could see; while she walked in silence, Dumbledore was humming a tune she thought sounded like some sort of classical music, but she was not sure. Ginny thought about how to ask Dumbledore about Mr. Lupin, the werewolf, but could not figure out a way to do it without sounding awkward. She hoped she was mistaken and Harry was not also a werewolf.

Halfway down yet another unused-looking corridor, Professor Dumbledore stopped. Lost in her own thoughts, Ginny almost walked into him and felt herself flush at her clumsiness. She began to apologise but instead let out a strangled shriek as a shadow along the wall moved.

“Sorry, Miss Weasley, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mr. Black chuckled as he materialised from the shadow.

“Mr. Black!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Where did you come from?”

“Please wait a moment before we discuss anything further,” warned Dumbledore. He cast privacy spells on both ends of the corridor they were standing in. “I think, Sirius, that it is safe to proceed.”

“I apologise for the cloak and dagger, Miss Weasley, but there’s no such thing as too careful,” Mr. Black told her. “Now then, if you would be so kind as to read this note.” He handed her a piece of parchment.

Still shaking from Mr. Black’s frightening appearance, Ginny took the note and read, “The hidden tower at Hogwarts Castle is found on the south curtain wall above the cliffs.” Confused, Ginny looked up and saw the curved wall of a tower, complete with a substantial wooden door set into its side, emerge from the formerly featureless wall. “How… Where...” she stammered.

“A Fidelius Charm, Miss Weasley,” replied Mr. Black. “The tower has always been here, but it is now known to only a select few. As the Charm’s Secret-Keeper, I am the only one who can allow you knowledge of and access to the tower.”

Ginny stood wide-eyed and blinked several times. “Oh,” was the only coherent thing she could think to say.

“Go on then, lass, it’s a bit past five. Harry ought to be done with his lessons for the day by now. Dinner for us is usually between five and six, so we’ll eat soon. Do you like lamb and beef? I understand Blinkin has gone all out for dinner tonight!”

Ginny stood motionless, not quite knowing what to say. This was Sirius Black chatting with her like they were old mates! “So I just knock, then?” she asked, feeling rather silly. She felt her face grow warm and fought to control her jittery nerves.

“Of course. I want to talk to the Headmaster for a moment. Go ahead… knock.”

At Sirius’ urging Ginny did just that. The large iron knocker was a slight stretch for her to reach, but she managed it and banged it several times against the strike plate. She tried hard not to let her nervousness and fear show. As the door opened, she put on what she hoped was a friendly smile.

“Oh, come on, Remus! Just once couldn’t you put away the microscope and the specimen slides? Please? I really need to be washed up before Ginny gets here. Moony? I’ll side with you in the next prank war…”

“Excuse me? Harry, are you trying to bribe a teacher?”

Harry gave him a very devious smile. “Depends. Is the teacher willing to be bribed?”

Remus answered with a smile as devious as Harry’s. “Go wash up. I’ll finish up here.”

“Thanks, Remus, you won’t regret this!” Harry immediately ran down to his bedroom and lavatory area. He felt fortunate that they were only working on plant cellular structure this week. If he had been dissecting some reptile or something, cleaning up would not be so quick. He groaned when he looked at his hair in the mirror. It just would not stay combed, especially in the back. Not for the first time, Harry wished that he had his mum’s hair and his dad’s eyes. Giving up his hair as a bad job, he hurried down the stairs and into the lounge to wait for Ginny.

Harry began pacing impatiently but decided to peer at the diary while waiting instead. He wondered what sort of changes would occur to the signature and threads when she was in the tower. He panicked for a moment, worried that Ginny would not show up. Maybe she had changed her mind and would just serve out her detentions with Dumbledore and be done with it. After all, he did lead an awfully boring life. But then, she had sent him a Valentine’s Day card and went through all the trouble of making it herself. He had never received anything like that and was thrilled by it. Harry smiled softly. The Dark Lord’s bane. It was brilliant!

Lost in his thoughts, Harry was startled by the knocker’s sharp rap. Anyone he knew just came in, so it had to be Ginny. He took a deep breath to calm himself and opened the door. There she stood, wearing a pensive smile and a deep blush as he looked at her. Although Sirius and Dumbledore were standing right there, he let his emotions get the better of him and blurted out, “Hello! How are you?” Harry breathed a sigh of relief as her smile became genuine. Despite his worries, things were going well.

Sirius said, “Harry, why don’t you take Miss Weasley inside? I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore for another few minutes.” Harry knew he was talking with Dumbledore about how Ginny would be escorted to and from the tower.

“Oh, okay. Ginny, come in! Let me show you some of the Marauder Tower,” Harry grinned.

Ginny looked about as Harry led her through the foyer area and into the lounge. “The Marauder Tower?” she asked. “The piece of parchment Mr. Black gave me just said the tower is hidden.”

“Sirius, Remus, my Dad, and another friend from school called themselves the Marauders when they went here. It’s sort of a nickname for their group.” Harry shrugged. “Sirius thought it would be a good unofficial name for this place, too.”

“So! Well, er… this is the lounge. Over here is Remus’ office. It’s really our study and library, but Remus spends so much time in here it seems like his office,” he added with a nervous smile. “Do you like libraries? We have a good one. Come on, I’ll show you!” She followed him through the doorway and into a richly carpeted, wood-panelled room lined with shelves full of books.

“My brothers’ friend, Hermione, would love to see this,” Ginny said meekly.

Harry was about to point out a collection of Muggle science books when he heard her take a sharp breath. She was looking at the lectern by the desk where her diary rested in its Perspex box. Her fingers began to worry with something beneath her robes, which Harry guessed was her key to the box. “We, um… we’ve decided to keep it here for now, at least until the um… four of us begin to investigate it. Other than that, we haven’t touched it, honestly!” he added a bit defensively.

Ginny nodded, wide eyed and silent. Harry heard the entrance door close and Sirius tell him he was checking on things in the kitchen. “Huh,” Harry said, “Blinkin won’t let him touch anything but…” He gave Ginny a puzzled shrug. “So. Next is the lounge, again, and off of that are the dining room and kitchen.”

As he led Ginny back through the doorway, Harry’s hair suddenly turned bright red, his robes wrapped about him like a straight jacket, and his shoes began to dance and carry him along for the ride. He started screaming, “NO! Not NOW! I’ll get you for this! Damn you, Padfoot, this is NOT the time for a STUPID PRANK! MOONY! So help me God, if you are part of this YOU WILL LIVE TO REGRET IT!” Harry made a number of loud, annoyed grunts while struggling to reach his wand against the tightness of the robes. As the dancing shoes spun him around, he caught a glimpse of Ginny standing just outside the study doorway looking ashen and totally dumbstruck.

Padfoot bound out of the kitchen and across the lounge. The huge dog leapt over the struggling Harry towards Ginny, letting out a welcoming bark. Ginny shrieked “WEREWOLF!” and shot a hex at the large dog. Her aim was off, and she hit Harry instead. “What the bloody hell is THIS?” he yelled as a horde of bats emerged painfully from his nose and flapped about his face. Padfoot continued running towards Ginny and tried to leap on her. She sent a flash of red light into the dog’s chest, causing it to crash to the floor with a yelp. She moved quickly around the whimpering dog and a frantic Harry towards the tower’s entrance door. Finally, Harry managed to free his wand hand and cancel the jinxes on his robes and shoes. He began calling “Finite” at his face, but to no avail. A burst of riotous laughter from the stairs caused him to turn and see Remus holding his sides. Harry noticed Ginny point her wand at him again. His eyes went wide, and he screamed “NO!” a second time.

Ginny called out something like “comma” and, to Harry’s relief, the bat spell stopped.

Harry immediately flicked his wand at the whining dog, which grew floppy basset hound ears and a red, bulbous nose. A swish of his wand caused a pair of clown pants and a hideously blue wig to appear on the animal.

Pale as a ghost, Ginny glanced towards the sounds of laughter. Seeing Remus on the stairs she cried out, “You?!” as she backed against the entrance door. Pointing her wand at Padfoot she screamed, “Then who is that werewolf? You really are a pack of werewolves?” She started to cry, blindly grasping for the door latch behind her.

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Werewolves? What makes you think we’re a pack of werewolves?”

Stabbing her wand towards Remus, she shouted, “Because he’s a werewolf. Why else are you kept away from everyone?”

Remus was no longer laughing. “Ah,” he said hesitantly. “I think some explanations are in order, Miss Weasley. If it makes you more comfortable, I will stay here… on the stairs. Harry, please lift the jinxes from Sirius, and ah… Padfoot, you ought to transform. I think these pranks have gone out of hand.”

Sirius transformed and gingerly rubbed his chest. “Bloody hell, Miss Weasley! You hit me with a stinging hex?”

A look of abject misery on her face, Ginny stood weeping in front of the door. “I’m sorry! I read about Mr. Lupin and thought Harry was hidden because he was a werewolf, too. Oh, I’ve ruined everything! I’ll just wait here until you bring Professor Dumbledore back.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Sirius replied, confused. “That hex was outstanding. It really hurt! Where on earth did you learn to draw that fast? You’re only a first year, right? That’s impressive, don’t you think so, Remus?”

Giving an exasperated sigh, Remus said, “Sirius, before we go any further tonight, I think Miss Weasley should understand about my lycanthropy.” Still on the stairs he addressed the girl. “Yes, Miss Weasley, I am a werewolf. Do you know who Fenrir Greyback is?” The change of her expression from misery to horror answered Remus’ question better than any words. “My father angered him when I was a young boy, and he attacked me for revenge’s sake. Recently a new potion, named after Wolfsbane, has become available. It doesn’t stop the transformation, but when I take it I retain my human perspective. For safety’s sake I still have myself locked in a secure room until the next day. You will never see me transformed, Miss Weasley. There is nothing to fear. My lycanthropy will create some impositions on our research and your training. Every so often a full moon will fall on one of your days here, and I, unfortunately, will be unavailable for that session.”

He waved at Sirius. “Sirius is not a werewolf, but rather an animagus. Please keep that secret. Very few people know about that, and he is not registered. Harry is neither a werewolf nor an animagus.”

Ginny continued to sob and began to wring her hands about her wand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. That was very rude of me to assume things without knowing.”

Sirius approached her slowly. “Come sit down, Miss Weasley,” he said kindly. “I’m touched you went through the effort to learn about us.” He smiled slightly at Remus. “That’s actually the sort of thing Remus would do.” He guided the distraught girl to an armchair and conjured a glass of water and a handkerchief for her. “We are the ones who owe you an apology. This was not really a good time to prank Harry.”

Harry glared at Sirius and hissed, “This isn’t over, Padfoot. Not by a long shot!”

“Miss Weasley,” said Remus, “your response this evening was far from the rudest I have encountered. The fact that you sought to learn about us tells me you are an intelligent young lady. The fact that you came here, despite your fears, tells me you are also a brave one.”

“Miss Weasley?” Sirius asked gently. “Remus and I will go find out if dinner is ready. Why don’t you take a moment to compose yourself? Harry will stay and keep you company.” He collected Remus from the stairs and took him into the kitchen.

When they had gone, Harry sat in a chair across from Ginny. Hesitantly and quietly Harry said, “I’m really sorry they did this today. We… er… we have prank wars from time to time, but today was not… It wasn’t a good time to have one. I’m sorry that we upset you.”

“My brothers, Fred and George, would have loved it,” she answered with a watery smile. “I’m so sorry I hexed you and Mr. Black!”

“What was that hex you hit me with? I don’t think even Sirius and Remus knew what it was, and that’s saying something.”

“I call it the Bat Bogey Hex.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, and he began to laugh. “Well named, Ginny, but why couldn’t I end the hex?”

“It’s an Egyptian hex my brother Bill taught me -”

“Which one is Bill?” Harry interrupted.

“He’s the oldest. He finished here four years ago and works in Egypt as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts.”

“A Gringotts Curse Breaker? Wow! That’s really cool!” He looked over at the door to the kitchen. “Look, do you feel like having some dinner? We almost never have a guest, so Blinkin prepared something special. I mean if you’re okay, ‘cause I mean I understand if you aren’t hungry right now,” he said, unsure of himself.

“I didn’t have much at lunch today,” she said with another slight smile. “Thanks.”

“Excellent, come on.” Harry checked the doorway into the dining room for pranks before he let Ginny through it. He gave her a rueful smile and shrugged. “All clear.”

Harry showed her to a seat opposite from him at the table. She peered at the Welch cupboard behind him and let out a gasp. “What?” Harry asked as he cautiously turned around. “Are they doing something mental again?”

Ginny shook her head, blushing madly again. “Where are the rest of your cards?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

Harry looked at the cupboard. Ginny’s Valentine card was placed prominently on the centre shelf. “Cards? I got your card, and it’s really nice.” He chuckled. “I love that ‘Dark Lord’s bane’ bit. You’re very clever!”

“Don’t you get loads of cards every Valentine’s Day? Supposedly the only person who gets more cards than you is Professor Lockhart! Witch Weekly has a column about them almost every year! They even wrote an article last year about the post owl shortage due to the number of cards sent to you.”

“Why would they write something like that?” he asked, confused. “Why would a magazine say I got a lot of cards? Your card was the first I ever got. I’m really sorry I didn’t give you one; I didn’t even know people did things like that. But then I guess I couldn’t,” he said, thinking he sounded pretty lame.

“You’ve never received a Valentine’s Day card?” she asked incredulously.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. He felt his face grow warm, but he was not sure what Ginny’s point was. Sirius got a few from time to time, but he actually discouraged magazines from talking about that. She peered at him closely and had that look of great sadness in her eyes again. It actually made his heart hurt to think someone could be that sad. Was this more of that ‘girl magic’ Sirius had talked about the other evening? He was saved from a growing and embarrassing silence when Remus and Sirius entered the dining room.

Joining them at the table, Sirius rubbed his hands together. “Miss Weasley, we have a truly excellent selection tonight. Leg of lamb, Shepherd’s pie, new potatoes, steamed carrots, Brussels sprouts -”

“I hate Brussels sprouts,” Harry muttered.

“They’re good for you; remember the one-bite rule! Now, where was I… er… Brussels sprouts and fried tomatoes. We have trifle and treacle tart for pudding.”

“No tripe tonight,” Harry told Ginny with a wry smile.

She giggled at his joke about their argument the previous night, and Harry was pleased that she seemed to have regained some of her composure.

“Miss Weasley?” Remus said. “Would you care for tomatoes or carrots?”

“Carrots please, sir. Mr. Black, do you want any gravy for your lamb?”

“Hmm… yes, Miss Weasley, and pass the potatoes, too.”

“Ginny, do you want water, or juice?” asked Harry.

“Juice, please.” She turned to Remus. “Mr. Lupin, did you want any Shepherd’s pie?”

“Absolutely, Miss Weasley!”

“Stop, stop! Just wait a moment,” barked Sirius. “I’m finding this mister and miss business quite tiresome, and we have barely begun to eat.” He looked at Ginny and asked, “May I call you Ginny?”

She quickly swallowed her food and nodded. “It’s all right with me, sir.”

“Excellent! Enough of that ‘sir’ stuff, too. Ginny, this is Remus, and I’m Sirius.”

Harry snorted. “He is, actually.”

Sirius gave Harry a stern look and then smiled at Ginny. “You’ll have to excuse my godson; he has acquired a rather odd sense of humour.” Harry snorted again. “Anyway, Sirius and Remus will do just fine. After all, he is just Harry.” Ginny looked up at Harry and blushed. “Now, let’s tuck in properly.” After that the only sound was the clinking of silverware as they enjoyed the meal.

“Ginny? Would you pass the carrots down here again?” Remus asked.

While passing the bowl, Ginny knocked over her goblet, spilling pumpkin juice across the table towards Remus. “Oh!” she exclaimed and pulled her napkin off her lap to sop up the spill. In doing so she managed to drag her robe’s sleeve cuff through the gravy in its boat. Gasping in surprise, she jerked her gravy-soaked sleeve back and promptly stuck her elbow into the butter dish. Harry started to laugh as Ginny looked more embarrassed by the moment. Remus gave Harry a stern look and flicked his wand, cleaning up the gravy, the butter, and the spilled juice.

“Don’t let Harry’s lack of manners get to you, Ginny,” Remus told the now mortified-looking girl. “The last time he did something like that -”

“Which was at lunch today,” interjected Sirius.

“He licked his sleeve and used it to mop up the water he’d spilled.”

“Hey!” snapped Harry. “That’s not true.”

“All right, all right,” said Remus with a dramatic sigh. “I did exaggerate a bit. Harry didn’t mop up the water.”

Ginny looked at Harry, dumbstruck. He shrugged and then smirked as he put his sleeve cuff in his mouth and made loud sucking noises. Ginny blinked and began to snicker. Harry laughed with her in return.

“So, as you might have begun to guess, Ginny, we… well, we’re hardly paragons of decorum and manners,” Sirius said with a grin. “You should never be embarrassed, because we can tell you tales of far worse situations that involve us personally.”

“I’ll keep that in mind sir… er… Sirius.”

He nodded his approval. “So Dumbledore told us about the prank to get you into detention, but he also said we should ask you about the improvements you made.”

“Well, I didn’t do much. That was magic beyond anything I can do,” she said modestly.

Sirius waved her off. “Stuff and nonsense, Ginny. Remus can tell you the magic is easy. Original ideas are the hard part. So, young lady, we’re all ears!”

Harry surreptitiously flicked his wand at Sirius, and his ears enlarged to the size of elephant ears. Ginny looked at him, her eyes as big as saucers, and then she burst out laughing. Sirius felt about his head and realised the size of his ears. He drummed his fingers on the table, glaring at Harry. “Are you planning to start a prank war right here and now, young man?”

“No,” answered Harry defiantly. “I plan to finish one, Mister Spell-on-the-Doorway!”

Ginny was looking back and forth between Harry and Sirius waiting to see what would occur next. She burst out laughing again when Remus attempted to get the conversation back on track and was rewarded by Sirius causing him to bray like a donkey and Harry giving him a blue curly clown wig. Swishing his wand, Remus removed the jinxes. Sounding annoyed, he told his two tormentors, “I believe we were waiting to hear Ginny’s improvements to the detention prank. Now then, gentlemen - and I use that term loosely this evening - let her continue.”

Ginny explained about Dumbledore saying Valentine’s Day was a day for fun and all the staff’s hair turning red.

“All?” asked Sirius. “Even Snape’s?” Ginny nodded, and he barked a laugh.

Then she told them her idea about adding the banners. “With the red hair, most would expect the Twins, but I was supposed to be the prankster. So the second banner read ‘The Longer the Hair, the Greater the Dare’. That pretty much turned everyone’s attention to me.” Her smile faltered and she sighed. “That part wasn’t very fun. Maybe they were acting, but I never saw Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall that mad before. They were very scary.”

Sirius nodded. “Regardless, that was a well thought out change. I like it!”

“Can I ask a question?” Ginny said tentatively.

“Of course,” Remus answered.

Blushing madly again, Ginny said, “Well, one of my favourite stories growing up was Harry’s story. Before coming here today I had my friends get some books about you two and Harry’s family. I mean, even the serious books only repeated what was in the children’s story with fancier words. May I ask what really happened?”

Sirius laughed again, although it had a bitter, hollow tone. “I am responsible for their deaths. I trusted Peter Pettigrew - I’m sure you read about him - to be James’ and Lily’s Secret-Keeper. It should have been me, but since I was the obvious choice, I suggested Peter as a double blind. Clever me, yeah? No one suspected Peter of being Voldemort’s spy. But he was, and he ran straight to his master. And here we are today.”

Ginny shuddered at the casual use of Voldemort’s name and watched, horrified. “That’s not quite what I meant,” she said cautiously.

Remus gave her a sad smile. “I think I understand what you’re asking about, Ginny. We don’t know exactly what happened that night. The only survivor is sitting across the table from you,” Ginny glanced at Harry and blanched, “and he was barely a year old. What we do know is that by all rights Harry should have died. By all rights Voldemort should have been unharmed. But that didn’t happen. Harry survived Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra. We do know he threw that curse because it is his favourite, his signature curse you could say. That’s what killed James and Lily. Dumbledore thinks Lily stepped into the first curse to protect Harry and triggered an unexpected chain of events. Her sacrifice, a sacrifice of love, overcame Voldemort’s second attempt to kill Harry. But the rebounded curse did not kill him, either. His body was there, but his soul did not pass on. We don’t know why, even today. That is the reason for the secrecy and security around Harry. Voldemort will return, and he will try to kill Harry again.”

Ginny sat staring at Harry, her jaw hanging open, eyes wide, pale as alabaster. “But…but…why?” she said in a whisper. She shook her head as if to clear her mind. “Why did You-Know-Who want to… to kill you?”

Harry looked expectantly at Remus and Sirius. Sirius shook his head slowly. “Let’s save that for another time, perhaps. That story is not really ours to tell.”

“Is this the ‘yet’ part you mentioned the other night?” Ginny asked.

“Umm… yeah,” Harry said in a resigned tone.

“Don’t you get… lonely?” Ginny asked. “Who did you grow up with?”

“Well, Remus and Sirius of course, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, and Moody and Hagrid, and a few others. Do you want pudding?” Harry asked suddenly, trying to change the topic.

Ginny looked at him, and something in her eyes told him she was going to accept his evasion for now but would raise the issue again someday. “Some trifle would be nice.”

“I know I asked you about this before, but what are the classes here like?” Harry asked.

“If you’ve been living here all your life, you ought to know better than me,” said Ginny.

Sirius coughed. “You had no idea Harry was here before last Thursday. That’s because he has no contact with any students and very few of the professors.”

“But how are you learning magic? Are you learning magic?”

Harry looked at Remus and smiled. “Professor Dumbledore was playing one of his odd jokes the other day. In the anteroom where you waited, he left copies of a series of essays on magical theory.”

“I remember that textbook, but studying wasn’t high on my mind at that time.”

“That bushy-haired girl from your house did ask Dumbledore about it,” Remus noted.

Ginny gave a short laugh and rolled her eyes. “That was my brothers’ friend, Hermione. She’d be interested in anything that looked like a textbook.”

“That textbook is the basis for Harry’s education and training in magic,” Remus told her.

“Hermione has mentioned that book several times now. It’s not in the library, and she said Dumbledore wouldn’t tell her who wrote it. It’s driving her barmy.”

“This is something you are not allowed to tell her, Ginny, but I am sitting across the table from the author,” Sirius said with a hint of pride in his voice.

“You wrote a text book on magic?” Ginny asked Remus in awe.

Remus coughed. “Well, I had a lot of help, and it’s not so much a textbook -”

Sirius interrupted him. “It’s not just a textbook, Ginny; it’s a totally new way to look at how magic works and how to teach its applications to students. The reason you’ve never heard of it is that Remus is a werewolf.” His tone grew bitter again as he continued. “As far as the Ministry is concerned, he has nothing worthwhile to say or write.”

“But… that’s so unfair!” she exclaimed. Her eyes grew large, and she blushed again as she said, “Oh, I see.”

Sirius ran both his hands through his hair and then snorted. “Remus here is far too modest, but I personally think he has made the greatest advance in magical education since the founding of Hogwarts. Harry has been our test subject and actually helped with some of the theory Remus has evolved.”

“Test subject?” Ginny asked in a wary tone.

“My entire magical education has been under Remus’ Theory of Magic. I began to learn when I was five,” Harry told her. “I’ve used Hogwarts texts and studied Muggle subjects, also.” Looking to Remus for confirmation, Harry said, “In several subjects I’m a N.E.W.T. level student. I want to be awarded the title of Sorcerer by the time I am of age.”

Ginny blinked, shook her head, and stared. “Sorcerer?” she whispered in awe. “You have to have a Mastery in all five branches of physical magic to earn that title.”

“We can have him teach you some of the things he’s learned so far,” said Sirius affably. “Would you like to be a Sorcerer’s apprentice?”

“Sirius,” Harry whined, “that isn’t even funny. Ignore him, Ginny. Sometimes he can get embarrassing,” he ended peckishly. “Can you tell me about some of your classes here? What’s it like taking classes from Gilderoy Lockhart? Is he actually any good?”

Ginny frowned, drummed her fingers on the table for several moments, and then started to speak slowly, as though she were weighing each word before using it. “He, um… I guess you could say he’s a different sort of professor. He’s very popular, especially with the girls. He told us at Sunday breakfast that he already received fifty-one cards for Valentine’s Day. Hermione sent him one,” Ginny huffed as she rolled her eyes. “I’m certain Mum sent him one, too, although my parents could barely… Well, I think making everybody have to buy seven of his books for one class is a big waste of money. Of course Mum didn’t see it that way. She has all his home-maker books and was thrilled we would learn from him this year.”

“What’s he like as a teacher? He’s known for his flamboyance but rarely performs magic in public. Has he actually shown you anything he talks about in his books?” asked Remus.

“I’m afraid to say I haven’t learned about anything much this year except what’s in his books. I mean there’re good stories and all, but…” Ginny frowned, but then her eyes took a very mischievous glint. “He squealed really funny when his hair turned red! I honestly think I’d have learned more if Hagrid were the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor,”

“Hagrid would be an interesting Defence Professor. He could certainly take a hex or two,” Sirius chuckled in reply.

“My brother, Charlie, got along well with Hagrid. Charlie says Hagrid is the reason he got interested in dragons.”

“Dragons?” asked Harry.

Ginny nodded. “He works on a dragon reserve in Romania.”

Harry shook his head. “You have one brother who is a Gringotts Curse Breaker and another who works with dragons? That’s… that’s… I don’t… really impressive!” Harry said.

“Bill was also Head Boy here, just like your dad.” At Harry’s surprised expression she said, “I did look up as much as I could. I know your mum was also Head Girl. I think that’s really impressive!” Her face began to colour again, and she said a bit breathlessly, “If you went here I bet you’d be Head Boy, too.”

Harry sat there, not knowing how to answer a comment like that. “Thanks… I guess,” he eventually stammered.

Hoping to get the conversation back to less embarrassing topics, Harry asked Ginny about what the school library was like. Remus and Sirius asked her about the Gryffindor common room, wondering if it had changed much in the past fifteen or so years. Harry sat back a bit and watched her as she enthusiastically talked about the common room, her dorm room, and her overall impressions of the castle. Sirius and Remus excused themselves after a while, claiming the need to wash the dishes and clean up from dinner. Harry thought that odd because Blinkin did that, but he was grateful for the chance to talk to Ginny without grownups around.

They sat on a lounge sofa that faced the window overlooking the lake. On a whim Harry asked, “Do you like to fly?”

“On a broom?” Ginny looked about surreptitiously and then smiled sheepishly. “Nobody knows, but I’ve been sneaking brooms out of our shed at home since I was six. Everyone thinks I’m too little to fly, but I’d fly rings around my brothers before they knew what was happening. They have flying lessons here, you know. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, told me I’m better than my brother Charlie when he was a first year!”

Harry watched again as she told stories about her brother Charlie, who apparently was an excellent Seeker while at school. Just as she had done in the Great Hall several days before, Ginny began a monologue, only this time it was on the various House Quidditch teams and their possibilities for taking the Quidditch Cup for the year. Harry listened, smiling slightly. Ginny’s warm brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and she began using her hands to express herself, physically emphasising her thoughts. She looked at him and blushed slightly at his smile, but her eyes never lost their sparkle. Harry remembered Sirius’ question from several night ago and thought that like this, relaxed and enthusiastic, Ginny really was pretty. He thought he might ask Sirius about that later.

Harry lost track of time listening to Ginny. Sirius startled them both by coming into the lounge to tell Ginny it was near curfew and time to leave. Ginny went beet red again and apologised to Harry for monopolising the conversation.

Harry smiled. “Are you kidding me? I’ve learned more about Quidditch in one night than Sirius taught me in twelve years!”

“Hey!” Sirius interjected.

“Well, okay. Maybe not. But when Ginny tells me about it, she makes it exciting! I know Remus has all sorts of plans, but could Ginny and I listen to a Quidditch match together some time?”

Ginny gave Harry what he mentally called ‘The Sunrise Smile.’ “I’d love to!” she replied breathlessly.

“And next time we meet, you get to ask the questions!” Harry told her. Ginny gave him another Sunrise Smile and walked towards the door.

As Sirius reached for his cloak, Ginny haltingly asked, “Sir… er… Sirius, I don’t mean to be rude, but is it alright if Remus takes me back to Gryffindor tower?”

Remus had raised an eyebrow, but Sirius merely shrugged and stepped back from the armoire at the door. Remus grabbed his cloak, raised the hood, and passed his wand before his face muttering, “Umbra.” His face now hidden in shadow, he opened the door.

Harry said with sudden panic, “Wait! I know tonight didn’t start very well.” He shot Sirius and Remus a withering glare. “I mean I know it takes time and work to be friends, but I’ve never really had a friend my age. I hope you’ll be patient and help me to do this right.” He felt his face grow warm for some reason and scraped the toe of his shoe on the floor before him. “It’s just,” he said awkwardly, “I’m really glad you want to be mine. My friend, I mean. I am not as exciting as you are, I mean I understand if you think I'm boring or something, but I hope you’d still like me to be your friend.”

He looked up at her and saw that she was blushing, too, but her eyes sparkled again, although differently from when she talked about Quidditch. She gave him a shy smile and said, "I’d like that." Then she quickly followed Remus through the door.

It warmed Ginny’s heart to see that her brothers, even Percy, were waiting for her as she stepped through the portrait hole. She gave them each a smile and a hug, even Percy, and let them know she was alright.

“I am a bit tired though, so I’m heading to bed now. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Thanks for waiting up for me! It really means so much.” She told them goodnight and headed to bed.

Once in her room, Ginny gathered her nightclothes and went to the lavatory to make ready for bed. The other three girls were in bed, too, but still awake. Ginny climbed onto the bed and immediately drew her curtains; she did not wish any confrontations with The Kates tonight. Once in private, she lay back against her pillows and thought about the evening’s events. Ginny ignored the disastrous beginning; she was still horrified by her behaviour to Mr… She smiled. To Remus. She was glad he had understood her request that he escort her back to the common room. It was important for him to know she trusted him, and it had given her a chance to apologise for her atrocious manners.

Harry had actually smiled at her several times during dinner. She just barely suppressed a happy squeal that one of her fantasies, sitting and talking to Harry Potter all by herself, had come true. His eyes were so green, and he had given her that smile. He listened to her prattle on about Quidditch, of all things, like what she had to say was actually important. And he told her he thought she was an exciting person!

Ginny touched her key through her night gown and smiled as she remembered that Harry had been the one to put it about her neck. With a satisfied sigh, she drifted off to sleep.

It was not until lunch the next day that Ginny realised, for the first time since the previous August, she had not thought about writing to Tom.

Sirius was pacing the lounge in agitation when Remus finally returned from seeing Ginny safely to the Gryffindor common room.

“So, now that we’ve had a bit of time to meet her properly, what do you think of Ginny Weasley?” Remus asked amiably.

“She seemed nice enough. After her initial reaction, she seemed to accept you rather quickly,” Sirius answered curtly as he continued to pace.

“The whole walk back was one long apology for her rude behaviour. I could hardly get a word in edgewise,” Remus said with a slight smile. “I told her the fact she even thought to apologise spoke volumes about her character. Hopefully we’ve put that issue to rest.”

“Yeah, well… look, Remus; I had Harry give me his memory of the prank sequence when the Weasley girl first arrived. We need to look at that in the Pensieve.”

Remus rubbed his chin. “Really? Whatever for? This evening turned out all right, but that prank won’t go down in the annals of Marauder successes, will it?”

Sirius stopped his pacing and began to tap the Pensieve with his wand. “Oh, my little prank definitely went pear-shaped quickly after she arrived. That’s what I told Harry when I asked to review his memory, but that isn’t really why I wanted it. I’m deeply worried, Remus. There’s something very disturbing about the girl. Watch the sequence from when Harry walks out of the study to when he cancels the various spells on me.”

Both men cringed as they watched what happened. While it was funny in hindsight, it was not the smoothest prank ever pulled. But as Sirius watched Ginny point her wand at his animagus form, he got chills again. What he saw confirmed his earlier doubts. He pointed out the first spell to Remus.

“What the heck is that thing she hits Harry with? I didn’t hear an incantation. Harry told me she said it was Egyptian! Watch the sequence again, from when Harry is hit with my prank until she runs for the door. Watch it closely, Remus,” Sirius said urgently.

After the second viewing Remus frowned and rubbed his chin again. “That happened so fast I’m not sure what you want me to see.”

“Where did her wand come from?”

“Well, you said she’s a fast draw.”

Sirius shook his head emphatically. “She puts her wand back in her robe pocket as the sequence ends, but her hand was never near her pocket when I leapt over Harry.” The two men watched the memory a third time. Remus looked at Sirius, completely confused. “I don’t think we’ve missed a thing, Remus. She never drew her wand; it just appeared in her hand, without any incantation or deliberate hand movement. We have no idea what spell she hit Harry with, and her stinging hex on me was also non-verbal.”

“I…” Remus let out a troubled breath. “Alright, let me see it one more time so I can watch that particular incident,” he said quickly. Returning from the memory, Remus sat back and stared at the ceiling beams. “We need to show this to Albus as soon as he has some free time,” he said after a long silence.

“Don’t forget, I won’t be here on Thursday,” warned Sirius. “No, on second thought, I can’t risk it. I’ll cancel attending the ICW closing feast,” he stated firmly.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” replied Remus cautiously. “It’s really important that you represent Albus at the dinner. The girl is a mere first-year student, Sirius. Between Harry and I, we can handle anything she might be capable of. I think you’re overstating the danger.”

“What if you can’t handle it?” Remus raised an eyebrow in surprise at Sirius’ question. “Look at things objectively, Remus. We have a first-year student whose Feynman Radiance lights a room. She can do bits of focused wandless magic, and she knows non-verbal magic including at least one spell we can’t remove. And, need I remind you, she's possessed by a Dark Magic object with Voldemort’s signature. Remus, what the bloody hell have we stepped in?” asked Sirius with a touch of panic in his voice.

Remus nodded in agreement. “I’ll show this to Albus first thing tomorrow morning,” he replied, now sounding equally concerned.