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SIYE Time:5:52 on 29th March 2024
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Birds of a Feather
By DukeBrymin

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Romance
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Reviews: 337
Summary: A little girl, kidnapped from her loving parents and found by someone else. A little boy, rescued from those who didn't want him. When they meet, something wonderful happens.
Hitcount: Story Total: 90995; Chapter Total: 5772
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Constructive criticism cheerfully accepted. Praise greatly enjoyed.  Flames haughtily ignored.  And, as always, thanks to my betas, rosiekatriona and sassyfrass_kerr, who are as talented as they are beautiful.




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oooooooooo

Ginny grinned as she spotted Hermione's bushy hair through the crowd of students thronging the platform.

“Hermione!” she called, attracting the attention of her best friend.  The other girl heard the call, and she turned quickly, trying to locate Ginny.  Ginny started towards the Granger family, bouncing with excitement for the coming school year, and especially for being a fourth year. It was true that third years were able to go to Hogsmeade, but fourth years--their curfew was extended by an hour.

“Ginny, dear, where are you going?” her mother complained. “Honestly, there are more people here every year. Arthur, make sure Ronald gets on the train, please.”

The Weasley family patriarch nodded and smiled faintly. He wished, in times like these, that they still had Bill here, or Charlie even, to help get the rest of the family off to Hogwarts. Even Percy could have been a help. But no, it was just he and Molly to get the twins and Ron and Ginny all settled. Of course, they were all growing up, and, if asked, they'd vehemently deny the need for any parental figure to be involved in the annual ritual. But being a father meant making sure that his kids were safely on board, no matter what they said.

“Ron! Ron!” called a couple of Ron's friends. Dean and Seamus were the other boys in Ron's dorm, and they'd formed a pretty good friendship based on watching Quidditch, talking about Quidditch, and teasing girls.

Before his youngest son could head off, Arthur put an arm around him for a sideways hug. “Ron, behave yourself, okay? Keep an eye on Ginny, please.”

Ron ducked his head a bit, looking embarrassed. “I will, Dad.” The memory of her second year was rather painful for all involved, and Ron wished he'd done a better job of watching out for her. Sure, they were in different Houses, but he should have noticed how upset she had gotten. Thankfully that whole diary business had been resolved happily, but he had resolved to do a better job of being a brother to her.

“I know you will, son. But remember–you're not her father, you're her brother. So don't interfere unless there's a real problem. Understand?”

Ron nodded his head. “Can I go now? I want to get a compartment with Dean and Seamus.”

Arthur hugged him again, then let him go. “Have a good term!” he called as Ron walked away. Then, with a decidedly mischievous grin, he yelled, as loud as he could, “We love you, Ron!” and watched as Ron's face turned bright red and he broke into a clumsy run towards the train.

“Arthur Weasley!”

Arthur turned quickly, but it wasn't really his wife–How his twins had learned to mimic their mother's voice so perfectly was a mystery, but they certainly put it to good use.

Fred came up to one side of his father; George to the other. They both put their arms around Arthur and started chiding him.

“How could you embarrass little Ronnikins in front of all his friends?”

“I declare, I haven't seen him so red since we charmed his pants to sing Merlin's Saggy Baggy Britches whenever he went to the bathroom.”

Arthur just chuckled and put an arm around each boy. Thank Merlin at least some of his children still allowed him to show affection. If it weren't for the twins and Ginny, he didn't know what he'd do. Speaking of which. . .

“Fred, George, I need you to do something for me this year.”

They looked up at him, momentarily serious. “Sure, Dad. We'll keep an eye on Ginny for you. We always do.”

“I know, and I'm very glad for that. But I have a special assignment for you this year. I don't know if you've noticed, but Ginny's getting quite a lot more attention from the boys now that she's, well. . .”  Arthur trailed off, not sure how to get his point across without scarring the mental image that the twins had of their younger sister.

Fred and George looked at each other, looked back at their dad, and nodded. “Say no more, Pop, we'll help her out with the boys.”

“I don't need to caution you to make sure she doesn't think you're interfering too much, do I?”

The twins just shuddered. Very vivid memories of Bat-Bogey Hexes and wicked fireballs appeared before their eyes, and they shook their heads in unison. “No, Dad, we won't interfere unless it's necessary.”

“Good boys. Now, say goodbye to your mother and have a great year.”

The twins headed off towards Molly, who was chatting animatedly with the Grangers. Arthur followed along. The Grangers were some of Arthur's favorite people, not least because they were Muggles, but also because of their daughter's befriending of Ginny. The family had been shocked almost beyond comprehension when Ginny had been sorted into Ravenclaw. After all, the Weasleys had been Gryffindors for as far back as they could trace. But after the shock had died off, they were able to see what a good choice the Sorting Hat had made. Ginny had blossomed in Ravenclaw. Ron, of course, had gone into Gryffindor, and separating the two siblings allowed them both to make a place for themselves without the shadow of their supposed twin.

Ginny had found in Hermione Granger a kindred spirit. Having met on the train before their first year, they now did everything together. The summer holidays had been hard on both of them, in spite of owling each other at least once a week. Hermione's parents were delighted that their bookish daughter had found such a compatible friend, and had gladly taken their turn hosting the slumber parties the girls invariable begged for each week.

Unfortunately, Hermione had missed out on the end-of-the-summer excitement when the Weasleys had been able to go to the Quidditch World Cup. Ginny had lamented the absence of her friend, but the Grangers had been in France during that time, and, as Hermione wasn't nearly as interested in Quidditch as she was in French magical history, she declined the invitation.

Arthur joined the group and greeted the Grangers with easy familiarity. Just then the whistle blew, announcing that they had five minutes 'til the train left. Molly and Emma started passing out hugs to the students, which not only included Ginny and Hermione, but Fred and George, as well as Neville Longbottom, who had just arrived.

The students finally escaped from the motherly embraces and made their way to the train. As usual, Hermione, Ginny and Neville started towards their preferred compartment. Luna Lovegood, who was a year behind the trio, was already waiting for them, perusing an issue of the Quibbler, which had, as its headline, Harry Potter Training with Lunar Moths on Moon's Surface!!

“Hey, Luna,” Ginny greeted her enthusiastically.

Luna looked up quizzically, her face clearing as she noticed who it was in the doorway. “Hello, Ginevra, how are you?"  Without waiting for an answer, she turned and said, "Greetings, Neville.  Have you told her yet?"  Neville blushed a spectacular shade of red, and shook his head quickly.  Luna frowned, but let it go.  "I'm happy to see you, Hermione–I was worried you might not be on the train this time. Daddy's worried about the possibilities of a niffler insurrection, and I thought you might have had to fortify your house against them.”

The older students just smiled, well-used to Luna. Neville hoisted all their trunks up into the overhead racks, and they arranged themselves in the benches for the ride to Hogwarts.

oooooooooo

The trip this year was almost normal for Ginny--the difference being one of degree, rather than type. Trips to Hogwarts on the Express had proven to have certain things in common. It was virtually guaranteed that the twins would stop by. Ron would usually come over with his friends and say something stupid to make Hermione mad (Ginny thought that maybe Ron fancied Hermione). Draco Malfoy would come by with his bodyguards and sneer at Ginny for being poor, at Hermione for being a Muggle-born, at Neville for being a Squib, and at Luna for being, well, Luna. And there would be a steady parade of boys visiting their compartment to greet Ginny. It always bothered her, but she hated to resort to violence to get peace. And she always hoped that they wouldn't have to put a locking charm on the door, as that tended to discourage people that she really wanted to talk to.  But why she should expect this year to be any different she didn't know. As the ride went on, she got more and more frustrated at all the commotion. Finally, after Dean Thomas had sat and told her, in exhausting detail, about how footballs were made, she had had enough.

Jumping to her feet, she pulled her wand. “All right!” she yelled, “everybody get out! Leave my compartment! I don't want to talk to any of you, I don't want to hear anything you have to say, and I certainly don't want to know about footballs!” The boys in the room, collectively, sighed in wonder at the sight of a furious Ginny Weasley. In truth, Ginny had come into her own over the summer. Her hair had darkened slightly, from the orange of the Weasley boys, to a lustrous deep red. She had gained a couple of inches in height, and had developed in such a way that there was no doubt she was a female. While she'd never be exceedingly voluptuous, she had a slender grace, with curves that perfectly fit her. And now, with her eyes flashing and hair almost alive in her ire, she was splendid.

Until the first bat-bogeys started flapping around Dean's head, and the spell was broken.

Ten seconds later, it was just the four of them in the compartment again, and Hermione had cast the annual Locking Charm at the door.

Ginny stood there for awhile longer, letting her anger subside. Finally she threw herself into her seat, and let out a deep breath. “I tried, Hermione. I really did. But they were worse than normal today. What's gotten into them?”

Hermione sat back with pursed lips. Luna shook her head and said, “Nargles–they infested the portal and everyone got them into their hair. It's a well-known fact that boys are more susceptible.” Then she went back to her magazine. Neville shook his head a bit, as if dislodging a fly, and sighed.

Ginny turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”

Neville raised his hands in supplication. “Don't get mad at me, Ginny, please?”

She closed her eyes and slumped back. “I'm sorry, Neville. It's just been getting so annoying. It was this bad at the World Cup! I mean, they're acting like they've seen a Veela or something! I still don't understand it! It's not like I'm some sort of beauty, like Cho Chang, or Daphne Greengrass. I'm just Ginny!”

Neville smiled again. “Ginny, don't say that–you've always been pretty. And I'm sure you probably didn't notice, but you've really changed over the summer. You really are beautiful--” Neville didn't notice Hermione's quick frown., “--and those boys just need to get used to you again.”

Ginny stared at her friend, nonplussed. “What? I haven't changed that much, have I?” She turned to Hermione. “Tell him, Hermione. I'm just me, not some beauty queen!”

Hermione shook her head. “Sorry, Ginny. I'm with Neville. You maybe didn't see it, but the summer's been very good to you. You've gotten taller, and your hair is just beautiful. And you've developed. . .” she cast a quick glance at Neville, who was turning pink. She cleared her throat. “You've developed into quite a beautiful young lady. I'd be jealous of you, if you weren't my best friend.”

Ginny lapsed into silence. Sure, she might have grown a bit, but she'd always seen herself as being insignificant. To find that two of her three best friends thought she was beautiful was quite a shocking revelation. “But, Neville, you don't act like a besotted fool around me.”

Neville smiled his lopsided grin at her. “Ginny, I'd much rather be your friend. I've always thought you were pretty, but I've known you for a long time, and I'm used to you. I know that you don't see me as anything other than a friend, and I like that. It's nice to know that I'm the one boy in Hogwarts that you don't have to worry about.”

Ginny felt her eyes get suspiciously moist at this. It truly was a blessing to have a safe male friend–one that wouldn't all of a sudden try to kiss her, like Colin. Or try to hold her hand, like that Michael Corner bloke.

Neville looked over at Hermione, who was staring at him with a calculating look in her eye, until she realized he was looking back. She started, and looked away quickly, her face reddening rather impressively.

Luna chose that moment to come out of her magazine. “Do you think Harry Potter will come to Hogwarts after he finishes on the Moon?”

“Why would we?” Hermione asked. “He was supposed to start at Hogwarts the same time as the three of us, but never showed. I can't imagine him all of a sudden coming out of nowhere to attend school with us.”

Ginny frowned at that. Truthfully, she had been rather disappointed at not having seen Harry Potter–she felt a sort of kinship with him, and thought that maybe they could have been good friends. But the letters she'd written to him had always come back, and finally she had given up. 
She'd eventually gotten over her disappointment, and who knew?  Maybe someday he'd return to the Wizarding World, and she'd get to see him. . .

oooooooooo

The Fearsome Foursome (as they were referred to by their Housemates) arranged themselves at their respective House tables and waited anxiously for the Welcoming Feast to begin. Ginny wasn't too interested in the Sorting, aside from applauding new additions to Ravenclaw, as she was rather hungry. But when Headmistress McGonagall arose and began to speak, she found herself forgetting all about food.

“Good evening, and welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we start the Feast, I wish to make an announcement of some importance.”

The Hall, which had quieted down, got louder again as everyone commented to their neighbors.

“Silence, please!” When quiet once again reigned, she continued. “As many of you know, the closest major Magic Schools to us are Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. We have been in discussions with the respective Heads of those schools in an effort to promote inter-school amity, and are pleased to announce the first Tri-School Quidditch Tournament!”

At this, Ron Weasley's voice could be heard throughout the Hall, “That's bloody brilliant!”

The rest of the students tittered nervously, and Ron turned bright red and ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Headmistress McGonagall said, with nary a hint of humor in her voice. “The students from those schools will be arriving on November first. Each school will have an A team and a B team, with another complete set of substitutes. The next two months will provide time for our team members to be selected and to start practicing together. Madam Hooch will oversee the choosing of the teams and will have more information. Now, let us eat!”

oooooooooo

“So, Ginny, are you going to try out for the Quidditch teams?” Hermione asked as they walked back to their dorms.

Ginny knew that Hermione didn't really care about Quidditch that much. She'd much rather be reading, or studying, or writing, or planning how to do the aforementioned tasks.  But she attended all the Ravenclaw games to support Ginny, who was one of the Chasers for their house team, and that made Ginny happy.

“Of course, Hermione! I can't think of anything more exciting than being able to play on the Hogwarts' team! I mean, I probably won't be able to be on the A team–the Gryffindor chasers have more experience than I do. But I think I could probably get on the B team. I mean, Slytherin doesn't have good chasers–they depend solely on their Beaters and the speed of their brooms. Hufflepuff has a great Seeker, but their Chasers are all pretty inexperienced. And I'm the best Chaser on our team, so as long as Madam Hooch is the one judging, I should get to play.”

Hermione smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. She had worried, off and on, about Ginny. Like most girls, Hermione had started paying attention to boys already. In fact, starting around second year she had kept an eye on one specific boy, hoping that she'd be able to attract his attention when he decided to get his hormones. But Ginny hadn't ever shown any interest in any bloke. She had male friends, that was true, and there was a rather large portion of the Hogwarts boys that would have done just about anything to date her, including, to her everlasting disgust, Draco Malfoy. But nothing Ginny'd ever done had indicated that she wanted a boyfriend. In fact, some of the less charitable Slytherins had started some rather salacious rumors about Ginny's preferences. But, to be honest, Ginny had never shown any interest in girls, either.

It wasn't that Ginny hadn't hit puberty–she obviously had, judging by the physical changes that she'd gone through over the summer–Hermione thought maybe it was just that Ginny had never found any boy worthy of her attention. And, to be fair, a lot of the boys at Hogwarts were rather immature, and Hermione didn't blame Ginny for staying out of the dating scene.

So, Hermione was very glad that Ginny had Quidditch to sink herself into. In the absence of any potential boyfriends, Ginny could concentrate on being a Chaser–well, and her studies, of course–and look forward to a rather promising career after graduation. But sometimes she worried.

“I'm sure you'll get on the team, Ginny–and I'll come see all your games, as always. But just think! We get to meet wizards and witches from the Continent! It'll be fascinating to talk to them, and find out about their schools. I bet the ones from Beauxbatons will have such a different view on the Goblin rebellions–oh, I wonder if we can visit some of their classes. . .”

Ginny grinned at Hermione. She was grateful for Hermione's support of their Quidditch team, in spite of the brunette's lack of interest.  She also knew that Hermione worried about her and her lack of interest in boys. Truth be told, she was occasionally worried about it herself. It wasn't that she didn't want a boyfriend–she had the normal complement of hormones, and dreams about boys. But the idea of actually kissing any of the boys she knew was enough to make her vomit. She had never met any boy that had sparked any sort of interest in her, and that, occasionally, made her sad. She had heard the rumors from the Slytherins, and they made her laugh, but she sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with her. She sighed, and Hermione looked at her quizzically.

“Nothing, Hermione. I was just thinking about boys.”

Hermione perked up. “Any specific boy?” she asked, curious as to whether her friend was actually turning into a normal girl.

“No–not really--” she stopped, very aware that she and Hermione were not alone. In fact, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner were both avidly, and unashamedly, listening to the conversation, with identical looks of desperate hope on their faces.

Ginny shot them a disgusted look and turned to Hermione with their normal let's-talk-in-the-dorms look. They stopped outside the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw long enough to give the answer to the question of the day, then hurried inside, anxious to finish their conversation away from prying ears.

Once they were safely in the dormitory, and getting ready for bed, Hermione gave Ginny The Look.

“Well, Hermione. . . it's just that. . .” she sat down on her bed. “Why aren't there any guys around that I like? I mean–some of the boys in the school are really nice. Michael Corner, in spite of being a major git, is handsome, and Dean Thomas is a good artist. Justin is very chivalrous, and Cedric Diggory is a great Quidditch player. But they all just leave me cold. Maybe I'll never find anyone that I like.  Maybe I'll just join the Harpies out of school and grow old without any guy in my life. I can collect kneazles, right?”

Hermione chuckled at this and moved to sit next to her friend.

“I mean, I'm fourteen, shouldn't I start being interested in someone? Cho's already pining after Cedric, and Mandy's been in 3 serious relationships already, and that was just on the train ride! Even you–you've decided that you fancy Neville!”

Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she gasped. “What are you. . . How did you. . . ?”

Ginny just glared at Hermione, who blushed and lowered her eyes. “Come on, Hermione–I know you. And don't worry, I'm sure he'll notice you this year. I mean, we've got a whole bunch of other students coming to visit Hogwarts–that's got to mean we'll have some sort of Ball, or something like that. And even if he doesn't ask you, you can get all prettied up and knock his socks off. But we're not talking about you–we're supposed to be figuring out me!”

Hermione valiantly contained her blush, and got her mind back on track. “I don't know, Ginny. Everybody develops at a different rate, so maybe you're just developing late. Just 'cause your body is maturing, that doesn't mean your interest in boys is developing too.”

“But I have dreams about boys–or at least, I dream about kissing and . . . stuff.” She blushed, but continued on. “I mean, I know about kissing, and stuff like that, and I want to do that, but not with any guy I've ever met. And what's worse–any time some guy tries to chat me up, I just feel sick.”

Hermione leaned on the headboard and put on her thinking face. Well, since she always had a thinking face, she put on her Thinking about an extremely difficult problem face. “Ginny, maybe. . . maybe it's something to do with your birth family. . .”

Ginny's mouth dropped open–as a rule, Hermione never mentioned Ginny's status as an adopted Weasley.  Hermione looked up, a little worried that Ginny would be upset for her bringing it up.  "I mean, I know you're happy with your family and all, but if we found out more about your birth family, maybe that would explain why you're so uninterested in the boys around here." 

Ginny still couldn't think of anything to say, and Hermione decided that she'd really blundered.  "I'm sorry, Ginny.  I didn't mean to make you upset or anything.  Just. . . just forget I said anything, okay?"

"No!" Ginny finally managed to get out.  "No, Hermione.  I'm not mad--I just never thought about that.  I mean, it's a brilliant idea!  Bill is always telling us about the different types of magical people and some of their customs, and it might explain things.  Maybe I come from a family that, I don't know, all have some type of magic put on them so they won't date until they're, like, 21 or something."  She thought for a bit.  "Um, Hermione?" she asked, in a rather wheedling tone.

Hermione smiled at her friend, very glad that she hadn't offended her.  "Yes, Ginny, I'll start researching.  But I need to know anything you can tell me about yourself, okay?"

"Okay!" Ginny bounced a bit on the bed.  "I'll owl my parents and see if they can tell me anything."  She looked down.  "I'll have to explain what's going on, so they don't think I'm sad to be a Weasley.  Maybe I'll ask Dad--he'll understand better than Mum will, I think."  She threw her arms around her best friend.  "Thank you, Hermione!  And, even if we don't find anything, I can just make something up, and tell everyone I'm under an ancient curse or something--Ooooh, I'll tell them that any boy I kiss before I turn 25 will have his. . . well, will have body parts rot and fall off.  That'll make them back off."

Hermione looked scandalized at this, but couldn't hide the laughter that bubbled up as she envisioned Michael Corner's face when he found out about the supposed curse.  Ginny hugged Hermione again, grateful again for her best friend, while Hermione thanked her lucky stars for having been able to meet someone like Ginny.

oooooooooo

November first was a cold, rainy day at Hogwarts.  The anticipation of having the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students arrive was alloyed by the school-wide edict that they'd all await their foreign visitors outside, on the front lawn.  Of course, classes for the afternoon were canceled so as to give everyone the opportunity to congregate, so that was a bonus.  All in all, Ginny thought, it was a slight net positive.  Yeah, they had to wait out in the cold weather, but they got out of classes for the afternoon.  Besides, Hermione was very good with Warming Charms, so they weren't too uncomfortable.

Hermione, on the other hand, was distraught over missing Arithmancy and Potions.  She never liked to miss classes, feeling that if she had to pay money for an education, then she should be able to get as much education as possible!  But her concerns about the lack of teaching were warring inside her with the pleasure that she felt at . . .  Well, she just really enjoyed the company she was keeping.

Neville was happy to be outside, period.  He had discovered, quite early on in his education, that Herbology was incredibly interesting.  He kept up fine in the other classes, although he wasn't top of the class in them, by availing himself of the combined help of Hermione, Ginny, and, to a lesser extent, Luna, three of the brightest witches he knew.  The Hufflepuff Helpers, the cadre of older students who held study sessions every evening for those who needed extra tutoring, had also been instrumental in his academic advancement.  But the study of plants--now that was incredible.  He had grown to love Professor Sprout, both because of her kindness and her great store of plant lore, and had decided, midway through first year, that working with plant life was what he wanted to do when he grew up.  He had discussed this with Professor Sprout, and she had started having him help out in his spare time.  Now, if only he could catch the attention of--

"I can't believe we have to stand out here waiting," came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy, holding court nearby.  "If my father knew I was being exposed to the elements like this, he'd be in quite a rage."

Ginny had heard, and she turned to face the Slytherins.  "I'm sure he would be, Malfoy!" she called, loudly enough to make sure everyone around them heard.  Heads started turning as the students realized who, exactly, was speaking, and to whom.  "I mean," she continued, "can you imagine?  Knowing that the vaunted heir of the Malfoy family is such a sub-par wizard that he can't even cast a Warming Charm would be even worse than knowing he didn't make any of the Hogwarts Quidditch teams!  He must be really regretting those brooms he bought the Slytherins!"

The laughter that followed was obviously rather embarrassing to the blond boy, as his face took on a distinctly ugly look and he started forward, reaching for his wand.  Ginny just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  "Malfoy, are you really sure you want to pull your wand on me?  Don't you remember the last time you did that?  Did you like the hospital wing that much?  I'm certainly willing to burn your new wand and hand the same way. . ." and she started raising her hand towards him.

Draco's face lost what little color it had, and he apparently decided that it would be safer somewhere else.  Hermione started giggling, hearing the chorus of offended yelps and curse words that followed the path of the blond aristocrat's rather hindered flight through the densely-packed crowd.

Luna, who had watched curiously as the scene unfolded, commented, apparently to nobody, "He must have forgotten to check his knickers for dooranges--they do tend to bite, you know. . ."

Ginny looked at her, then started to giggle too, until she thought about it too much.  "Luna!  Now I have that image in my mind--ewwww!  Malfoy in girl's underwear!  Hermione, can you please obliviate me?"

Hermione was apparently just as disgusted, but thankfully, at that moment, Colin Creevey's voice was heard over the crowd.  "Hey, look at the sky!"

As one, the assembled students looked upward.  After a bit of searching, they noticed a speck in the distance, over the lake.  As they watched, it grew bigger and bigger.

Mandy yelled, "It's a flying house!"

Other people chimed in with their guesses, until Dennis Creevey yelled, "It's Santa Claus!" and then promptly hid behind his brother in embarrassment.

Eventually the flying . . . thing. . . got close enough for the Hogwarts student to make out what it was.  It was a very, very, very large flying carriage, powder blue in color, being pulled by enormous horses.  Ginny heard Hermione whispering, "But Abraxans don't fly.  Maybe they have a propulsion charm.  Or it's an illusion.  Would that be how Saint Nicholas gets around?  Reindeer don't fly either.  But the amount of magic involved must be incredible!"

The carriage finally landed, with quite a loud THUMP and some rather noisy clopping of the Abraxan hooves.  When the whole thing had slowed to a stop, the students let out a breath that they had been unknowingly holding, as no-one had been completely sure the carriage would stop before running into the walls.

Eventually, a door opened in the side, which triggered a small set of stairs to be lowered to the ground.  Out of the door came what had to be the largest woman Ginny had ever seen.  If Hagrid was a half-giant, then this woman had to be at least three-quarters giantess.  Headmistress McGonagall stepped forward to greet her.

"Madame Maxime, how nice to see you.  You have a beautiful carriage here."  Who knew McGonagall could be so charming?

"Ah, yes, Headmistress McGonagall, it has been too long.  How is the Scottish weather treating you?"

The conversation dealt with such pleasantries for awhile, until one of the students noticed that the Beauxbatons students had all disembarked, and were standing behind their Headmistress.  To be fair, Madame Maxime was so large, and so vibrant, that it was easy to overlook anyone else in her (figurative AND literal) shadow.  Regardless, the Beauxbatons students had lined up, and looked to be casting Warming Charms on each other while they waited for the opportunity to pass into the castle.

Pleasantries apparently over, Madame Maxime turned to her students and said, "Allez!" and started walking towards Hogwarts.  The students, all dressed in blue cloaks--the girls in very light blue, and the boys in a darker shade--followed her.  As the visitors drew closers, snatches of conversation could be heard from them, although it was mostly in French, so only Hermione was able to understand anything.  What Ginny could understand, however, was the babble from her fellow students.

"Cor!  Look at her--she's gorgeous!"

"I know--I wouldn't mind catching the Quaffle from her, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, but look at the guy she's with--I don't think we've got a chance."

"Oh, Merlin--look at that one.  He's incredible!  I just want to run my hand through that hair!"

"I know--look at those shoulders--doesn't it make you wonder what it'd be like to be in his arms?"

"But she's so pretty--he'll never look anywhere else when he's got her."

Ginny was rather frustrated--the shallowness of the Hogwarts students was so embarrassing--she couldn't believe that they were all drooling over these foreign students.  Sometimes she wished she could have gone somewhere more. . . cerebral.  Although that probably would have meant that she couldn't play Quidditch.  She sighed--oh well, only three and a half more years 'til graduation.

The Beauxbatons columns were coming closer, and, by happenstance, the crowd melting away in front of them made it so that the Fearsome Foursome was now in the front row, with a perfect view of the visitors.

Ginny looked at them curiously, and the first one she saw must have been the girl that Dean and Ron had been discussing.  She was tall, willowy, and blond.  But that didn't really describe her.  Her face was perfect--angelic, with bright eyes and an easy smile.  Her skin seemed to glow in the overcast lighting, and as she walked, she seemed to glide over the ground, as if she were dancing.  Ginny's mind seemed to catch a bit at seeing this girl--she looked a little familiar, perhaps.  A whisper from Hermione caught her attention.

"I bet she's at least part Veela--Ginny, didn't you say there were Veela at the World Cup?"

"Yeah, I did.  She looks a lot like them."  Which probably explained the feeling of familiarity Ginny had.

But then she saw the boy walking with the blond.  He was shorter than his companion, but that didn't matter.  His hair was black, and he wore glasses.  Lavender was right--he was muscular, but not overly so.  It looked perfect on his frame.  Ginny was shocked--he was the most incredibly attractive person she had ever seen.  In fact, she was experiencing a rushing emotion that she'd never felt before.  Her skin was warm, and her breath came faster as she watched him walk towards where they were standing.  Visions of the two of them kissing, and dancing, and . . . well, hazy ideas of beds and candles, too, took over her brain, and all she could do was stand there and stare at this. . . this. . . this man.

Beside her, Hermione was breathing faster also.  He was incredibly handsome to her, too, although she knew that he'd never really be her type.  But that certainly didn't stop her from looking, and looking, and looking some more.  She felt vaguely guilty for thinking him so attractive, but a sideways glance showed her that Neville was staring at the blond girl with much the same look in his eyes, so she assuaged her guilt.  She looked at Ginny, about to comment on the black-haired boy, but when she saw the besotted (and confused) look on the redhead's face, she fell silent.  Oh my, she thought.  Ginny's finally got her hormones.  And she's fallen for someone who already has a girlfriend.  She was just about to put her arm around her friend to comfort her when Ginny took a step forward.

Hermione looked up, shocked, to see the black-haired boy walking straight toward them.

Ginny had been staring, and staring at the couple.  She knew that this boy would probably never even give her the time of day--why would he, when he had such a goddess next to him?  But she couldn't help but keep looking.  And as she looked, he turned his head towards her, as if he could. . . smell her, or feel her, or something.  His eyes connected with hers, and she thought, hazily, that she'd never seen eyes so piercingly green, or so loving.  She couldn't help the attraction she felt, and she unconsciously took a step towards him.

He, for his part, had left the side of the blond goddess, and was walking directly at Ginny.  She held her breath, sure that she was dreaming, until he stopped right in front of her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face.

"Hi," he said, just loudly enough for her to hear.  "I've been looking for you."

She tried to speak, but couldn't seem to make her mouth move.  He smiled at her again and moved closer.  His arms went around her waist, and hers automatically went around his neck, and she was kissing him.  Kissing him with her heart, her soul.  Trying to move even closer to this incredibly handsome man who, for some reason, wanted her.  She could tell he wanted her--he was kissing her back with as much desperation, as much passion, as she was feeling.  Her heart felt as if fireworks were exploding inside of it, and she would have worried about it, if her brain had been able to comprehend anything.  But all her thoughts were centered only on how complete she felt; how unbearably happy she had become.  She had thought, in the past, that she'd been happy at times, but this. . . this was pure joy.  The shivers that ran over her skin seemed to concentrate in her legs, and she worried momentarily about falling over.  But his arms tightened even more around her, as if he felt her bonelessness, and she relaxed into their secure embrace.  Finally, finally she could understand why people liked to kiss.  She'd never experienced anything like a lover's kiss--the closest had been when her friend Ricky, from the village, had kissed her on the cheek on a dare--but the kiss she was receiving now had everything she'd ever hoped, ever dreamed, and never even knew that she wanted.  Eons might have passed as she stood there, entwined in the arms of the black-haired boy, giving him everything he asked for and taking everything she wanted.  And as they kissed, the sound of the crowd faded away, even Hermione's long sigh of happiness.  All of Ginny's senses became completely dedicated to this wonderful person whom she had given her heart to, and she knew that she'd never be able to love anyone else.
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