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SIYE Time:3:22 on 19th December 2018


Memoirs of a Red Headed Witch
By My Wicked Quill

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Category: Pre-OotP, Post-OotP, Post-HBP, Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Humor, Romance, Songfic
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 136
Summary: Ginny Weasley was always overlooked. Always the youngest, always the smallest, and was never really given the chance to let her voice be heard. But sometimes the best insight comes from those who were always in the background. Her story of redemption, loyalty and love, proves that she was never just the Weasley brothers' little sister.
Hitcount: Story Total: 112492; Chapter Total: 5802
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
I know I haven't updated in a very long time but I have several chapters coming up! This story is completed just not validated :)




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“Set me free,
Leave me be,
I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I stand so tall
Just the way I’m supposed to be…”
Gravity- Sara Barreilles


There comes a time in one’s life when things change in a way you would never expect. These moments can happen so suddenly and so vigorously that when you realize the change, it might be too late to do anything about it.

I remember the exact moment I felt I was over the infamous Harry Potter.

Yes, you read right.

It didn’t take long for me to start dating Dean Thomas when my relationship with Michael ended; I wasn’t really saddened by it at all- that break-up-I barely blinked. He could have her and they could be happy together forever for all I cared. I just found it funny how the only time I was ever so broken was because of a boy I never had in the first place.

Dean was sweet, clingy, but sweet. He took a real interest to me when I emerged from the hospital wing; he walked me to my last classes of term, offering to hold my books because he didn’t want me to add any unnecessary weight onto my fragile ankle. He made me feel wanted and good enough, he was comfortable and I enjoyed my time with him until we had to leave school for yet another summer.

That was the best summer of my life.

Before Harry arrived at the Burrow I tried not to worry about him too, too much, though of course it was impossible. But every time I would think of him, it hurt because he reminded me so much of Sirius. I knew it was selfish but Sirius was the only person ever who actually gave me the time of day, listened to me, valued my opinion and didn’t think of me as a silly little girl. I missed him terribly. It was extremely selfish; Harry must have been hurting even more.

Each time I picked up a quill to write to him, I’d get stuck, sad or doubtful and walk away. Not only because I was trying desperately trying to cope with the fact that we were still only friends, but because I didn’t think he’d want to hear what I had to say. There were so many things I could tell him, but I couldn’t bring myself to write them down.

I finally got it in mid July.



Harry,
Writing this letter was much harder than I thought it would be, with all that’s happened we both know that words aren’t going to fix any of it. But you know that won’t stop me from trying. I hope you’re doing well, hopefully the muggles are treating you right, they should know better by now not to cross you. I’m sure you hate being away from us, your rightful world, but it’s probably for the best, you need to sort yourself out.
Dumbledore told me once that time heals all wounds, I hope he was right because at the moment I’m missing Sirius terribly. I know it couldn’t even compare to how much you do, but know that you’re not alone in this. And as much as I got to know Sirius, he wouldn’t want us mopping around, so you better not be doing that Potter, because then that means I have to mope too, and I’d rather just think about all the times he made me laugh and told me I reminded him of your mum. I think about all the stories he told me about him and your father and the trouble that followed them everywhere, whenever I start to miss him.
I’m sorry that you didn’t get to spend as much time with him last summer as I did but he absolutely loved to talk about you. He loved you so much Harry. As does everyone.
And don’t worry, I’ll tell you all the stories one day, just tell me when.
Try to stay out of trouble.
Wow I can’t believe I wasted ink asking Harry Potter to stay out of trouble.
You know you want to smile.
Gin



Yes I still remember that letter, I see it all that time, but little did I know that it was the start of something huge. Friendship maybe? I wouldn’t know yet.

It utterly surprised me when he replied.

Ron went to the window to let Hedwig in before yelling, “Hermione! Harry’s sent a letter!”

I looked up from my book in the sitting room to Ron who was in the kitchen- naturally. He pulled the letter off her ankle as she settled herself on the window sill.

“What did you say Ronald? Screaming up three flights of stairs isn’t going to help anything if I’m not going to be able to-” the sound of Hermione’s voice floated into the room as she came down the stairs, but it stopped when she saw the parchment in Ron’s hands and Hedwig. “Harry? He wrote?” They didn’t give him enough credit, sure he was in a bad place at the time but it wouldn’t have been a miracle if we would just jump back up from it, it would have been a very Harry thing to do, not let anyone see him suffer and keeping up pretenses that he was “fine.”

“Yea,” said Ron who still hadn’t opened the letter, rather he was staring at it as though it had just grown three legs. “But not to us.”

“Not to us?” Hermione asked, “Then to who?”

“Ginny.”

I stood up without a word and went over to pluck the envelope out of his frozen hand, “Thank you.” I walked out of the room leaving the both of them stunned in their spots.

I made my way to my room making sure to close the door behind me. Of course I still remember the letter, and if you’re shocked at this then you obviously still don’t know me. The envelope only contained my name in his script, and the parchment was almost blank:



Thanks. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply but it’s because some part of me knows you’re right, but the other part doesn’t want to admit it yet. It means a lot, and I won’t forget, I have a feeling I’ll be needing them someday.
I promise.


It was short and to the point but coming from Harry at such a time…it was special.

We were both so blind that following year; we wasted more time than I care to admit.

It wasn’t too long after that, that Harry graced us with his presence at the Burrow. That was the summer a certain French hag was driving me mad. Fleur Delacour made her way back into our lives in full force, engaged to my brother Bill. They had known each other for a year at work yet the news came as a shock. Fleur’s superior attitude constantly had me reaching for my wand. One Bat-Bogey hex and she would learn her lesson.

“No, No! I ‘ave eet!” she said one morning as I started cracking eggs. Whipping out her wand, they were suddenly cracking themselves.

“No, I had it! Honestly there was no need,” I told her with my voice drowning in false sweetness.

I turned to the sausages on the frying pan and began to tend to them, only to have them flipping themselves in a matter of seconds. “Fleur. I am perfectly capable of making breakfast by myself.” I turned to the girl.

Sure she was dazzlingly beautiful and striking, she was skillful enough to land herself in the Triwizard Tournament, and yes she had that French mystic going for her, but her personality was as soft as a Hungarian Horntail. Bill could have done so much better.

“No! Ze’ little children ou’ can’t do magic at ‘ome shouldn’t make meals! You should be upstairs wiz you’re dolls!”

“I am fifteen years old and I do not need you telling me what to do, or what not to do. I have my mother for that.” I spat.

She came closer, sending her blonde shimmering hair behind her shoulder, and pat me on the head.

“No, do not get so worked up, young angered girls aren’t very attractive. Do not fuss mon amie.” I hated when she spoke French. As though all the English lessons my brother had given her didn’t matter.

I’m sure she heard my mouth drop. I clenched my wand- but that’s when my mother walked in.

“Ginevra!” she scolded and I put it down again. Fleur smirked and raised a perfect eyebrow. “Harry’s here, why don’t you go see him.”

Of course she wouldn’t be mad at me, she probably wished I would have finished before she walked into the room. But at the mention of Harry I lost most interest in Fleur and my wand.

Walking up the stairs I was muttering about how annoying she was, and I was glad to hear a conversation that I could turn into one about my exasperation.

“He can’t be worse than Umbridge, can he?” Harry said.

“I know someone who’s worse than Umbridge.” Fleur, or Phlegm, as I liked to call her definitely was up there. “Hi Harry.”

“What’s up with you?” Ron asked.

“It’s her.” I grumbled dropping myself forcefully at the foot of Harry’s bed making sure to miss his feet. “She’s driving me mad.”

“What’s she done now?” Of course Hermione would understand, apparently Fleur didn’t only have something against redheaded witches but bushy brunettes as well.

“It’s the way she talks to me- you’d think I was about three!”

I was tired of people thinking I was so little only because I happened to be born last. Everyday every minute, it was “Oh not Ginny she’s just a child!” I didn’t know when they were going to realize that I wasn’t just a child. It seemed like that was the roll I played, not the smartest witch of our age, that was Hermione, not the most successful pranksters, that was Fred and George, not Harry Potter’s courageous best friend that was Ron. I wasn’t the chosen one to save the world- no that was Harry. I was the little sister.

Ginny Weasley, the youngest girl of the endless family.

I wanted to know when, if ever I was going to be considered something different. Something more. And when it came to Harry, yes I had a boyfriend, yes I was good friends with him, but I wanted to at some point grow out of being solely his best mate’s little sister.

“I know; she’s so full of herself.”

My brother rolled his eyes, “Can you two lay off her for five seconds?”

I snorted, “Oh that’s right defend her. We all know you can’t get enough of her.”

I then realized that Harry must have felt so lost, because he started,

“Who are you--?” But his question was answered before he could finish it.

She waltzed through the door in her ballet-ish style carrying the tray full of food. By hand! I was appalled. She just wanted everyone to think of her as sweet and considerate. Please, she never lifted a finger if she could help it.

She was too sour for me. But when she walked in the room, Harry instinctively pulled his bed covers up to his chin, throwing me and Hermione to the floor. I didn’t like that reaction, but I found it interesting that he felt comfortable enough around me to let me see him in his pajamas. I stopped myself from thinking too much about it… Harry had reached a high point in his attractive growth that summer. I had a boyfriend and my thoughts were straying too much.

“’Arry, eet’ as been too long!”

The look on his face was priceless. “There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself.” My mother said crossly entering behind her.

“Eet was no trouble.” If I had thought the look on Harry’s face before was good, it was nothing compared to the one I saw when she lowered the tray onto his lap and kissed him on each cheek. “I ‘ave been longing to see ‘im.” Don’t judge me but I remember my hand going to my wand. “You remember my seester Gabrielle? She never stops talking about ‘Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again.”

Hmmm…that little girl sounded quite familiar.

“Oh…is she here too?” Poor Harry. Phlegm didn’t even give us a chance to explain what was going on to Harry before she pounced on him. He probably had a headache wondering why she was in the wrong country.

“No, no silly boy,” she laughed. “I mean next summer when we--but do you not know?”

“We hadn’t got around to telling him yet.” Mum answered.

“Bill and I are going to be married!” I looked away from the scene, it just felt so wrong. I didn’t know why Bill was doing that, she was so…obnoxious. I didn’t like her for my brother at all.

Harry didn’t really seem to know what to say, and I didn’t blame him, it was all so random, so sudden. “Oh…Wow. Er- congratulations!”

She had the nerve to swoop down and kiss him again.

“Bill iz very busy at ze moment, working very ‘ard…”

I tended to zone out her voice, everything out of her mouth was just…blahh. I took notice again when she walked out of the room. Mum made some weird sound as though she was trying to get her frustration out in one syllable, I wanted to laugh.

“Mum hates her.” I said instead.

“I do not hate her! I just think they’ve hurried into the engagement, that’s all!”

“They’ve known each other a year,” said Ron annoying me further.

“Well that’s not long! I know why it’s happened, of course. It’s all the uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they’re rushing all sorts of decisions they’d normally take time over. It was the same the last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center-”

“Including you and dad.” I said slyly.

“Yes well your father and I were made for each other, where as Bill and Fleur…well… what have they really got in common? He’s a hard-working, down to earth sort of person whereas she’s-”

“A cow.” I sighed. I wasn’t a rude person, really, it’s just all these memories seem to revolve around the people who made me seem so harsh, Cho Chang and Romilda Vane included. “But Bill’s a curse breaker, isn’t he? He likes a bit of adventure…a bit of glamour…I expect that’s why he’s gone for Phlegm.”

Harry and Hermione fell into fits of laughter, “Stop calling her that Ginny!” Mum said. I wasn’t going to give up that nick name. No matter how rude it was.

Mum left the room then with just an order for Harry to eat.

“Don’t you get used to her if you’re living in the same house?” he asked me. I was going to say something about how she wasn’t as easy to live with as he was but Ron spoke up first.

“Well, you do, but if she jumps at you unexpectedly, like then…”

“It’s pathetic!” Hermione suddenly furious with my brother.

“You don’t really want her around forever?” I asked exasperated. He just shrugged, I shook my head. “Well mum’s going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything.”

“How’s she going to manage that?” asked Harry.

“She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she’s hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I’d much rather have her in the family.”

Ron denied it, and I got angry, Tonks was great, funny, smart, “She’s a damn sight nicer than Phlegm!” I shot back. Merlin, what was it with boys and foreign, exotic girls!

“And she’s more intelligent, she’s an Auror!” Thank you Hermione.

“Fleur’s not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament.” I almost gasped when those words didn’t come from Ron’s mouth. I would have thought him to be the exception, the only one to not be dragged under the veela charm; it would only be fitting for Harry to be unaffected by it, but he never ceased to surprise me.

“Not you as well!” Hermione complained.

“I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ‘’Arry,’ do you?” I asked him disappointed, but mostly disappointed in myself. Why did I care? I. Had. A. Boyfriend.

Harry looked as though he wished he had never spoken, “No, I was just saying Phlegm-I mean Fleur-”

“I’d much rather have Tonks in the family,” I said finally, crossing my arms. “At least she’s a laugh.” The only way Fleur would make me laugh is if her bogeys were attacking her face.

Mum called me just a few moments later, “I’m talking to this lot!”

“Now!” she yelled, and I groaned.

“It’s only because she doesn’t want to be left alone with Phlegm!” and with that I danced out of the room, doing my best impersonation of the French witch.

That summer Harry, Ron, Hermione and I played Quidditch everyday and laughed more than I ever remember. Though Sirius was gone it seemed we all just wanted to bask in our teenage years in ways we rarely could. And I know he would have wanted us playing around and acting our age rather than worrying about all the things that followed where we went. The disappearances, kidnappings and all. Ollivander the wandmaker went missing just before Harry’s 16th birthday. There were no leads and not even suspicions as to why his shop had been ransacked.

Aside from the news- Harry seemed, happy. Though I knew a lot of times he was putting up a show, his laughs were genuine.

And I found it quite interesting that I was the main cause of his laughter.

It was also brilliant that Harry was named Captain of the Gryffindor team, he was perfect for the position, and it distracted him from all else. He seemed rather smug about it, but it was his intent not to show it.

“Oh come off it Harry! You are the best choice for the team.” Hermione laughed as we made our way to the pitch in the yard, she had opted out on this game claiming she had too much studying to do.

“But there’s Katie Bell, she’s just as deserving,” he said.

“Well, You’re the captain and that’s that.” She drifted off to the side with her book, to watch- well read- and Ron lifted into the air already announcing that he was more than excited for his best friend. Ron, however, just seemed concentrated on the game we were about to play, I figured he was preparing himself for the saves he was going to make when Harry and I went easy on him.

“You, Sir, are bloody proud, admit it,” I whispered to him before we mounted.

He tried to compose his smile, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” I said in the same mocking tone. “Whatever you say.” I pushed off the ground to instantly be greeted with the rush of adrenaline flying gives me. I didn’t get very far before Harry called my attention again, I turned in mid air, hovering a few feet above him.

“I’d watch it if I were you, you don’t want to cross your captain before tryouts, he just might make you practice like crazy during the season.”

“Are you saying I’m already on the team?”

He mounted his broom and kicked off to meet me, “Now, what kind of example would I be setting If I just let you on the team?” he smiled and I could see he was joking. “My best mate’s little sister?”

“Little?” I raised an eye brow.

“You are trying out for the team, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t we wait and see?”

“You’re trying out Weasley, I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Ordering me around are you? I’d be careful I just might decide to try out for seeker, I am rather good at it...as you know.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“What makes you think so?”

“You like being in the center of the action. You find playing seeker fun, but for a whole season you’d rather be chasing.”

I stopped short at his admission to knowing something remotely personl about me. For a moment I couldn’t think of anything to reply with.

“You never know… I may surprise you.” I said risking a look in his eyes.

He smiled widely, “Yes, you’re rather good at that,” he said taking off in the opposite direction.
***



I was dying to get out of the house by the time our Diagon Alley trip came around. Sure spending weeks in the same house as Harry was always great, when he wasn’t being moody- like that summer, but I desperately needed a change in scenery. That morning my mother had just served breakfast when I came into the kitchen. Ron and Harry were already seated at the table anxiously awaiting the food, as usual. Bill was home and it was making Phlegm perkier than usual. When Bill handed Harry a bag of galleons from Gringotts, Fleur went off in praise about my brother. I already knew that Bill was thoughtful and kind; he was my brother for heaven’s sake! She didn’t have to tell us over again and again, I’d known him longer.

I wasn’t aware that Harry was watching me as I pretended to vomit into my bowl of porridge. He suddenly broke into hysterical laughter, causing himself to choke on the small portion of porridge he inconveniently had in his mouth. It was a rather funny sight especially when Ron thumped him forcefully on the back only making Harry’s situation worse. Mum turned to look at the commotion and that was when I started laughing as well.

“Are you two alright?” she asked. But I couldn’t answer. Harry finally managed to swallow, yet he was crackling too hard to respond either.

“I think they’ve gone mad.” Ron said. Even after a while I forgot what was so funny, however, every once in a while when Harry and I would catch each other’s eyes we would chuckle again.

When we finally made it to Fred and George’s shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, it was everything I knew it would be. It was buzzing with people- mostly Hogwarts students who had gotten a small taste of their products over the school years. My brothers looked like they were on top of the world, professional in their magenta robes, and having the time of their lives. Leave it to Fred and George to get a job where they got to play the whole day.

Ron and Hermione were bickering again somewhere behind us so Harry took to walking around with me. We didn’t get far into the shop before the twins reached us.

“Oh look! If it isn’t our favorite sister!”

“And our favorite benefactor!”

Harry and I both rolled our eyes, “I’m your only sister.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m your only benefactor, but don’t even mention it.”
Fred and George clapped Harry on the back. “That doesn’t mean the both of you don’t hold a special place in our hearts!”

“And speaking of special George…” Fred looked between Harry and I with a single raised eye brow. George caught on and smirked.

“This seems to be especially mixed company.”

“Is there something the both of you need to tell us?” they concluded together. I glared at them my warning couldn’t be any more clear.

“Uh…” Harry started, “I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry Harry they are just looking for trouble,” I told him, with a bit of infliction in my voice and a glare at the twins.

“And I think we found it George,” said Fred taking my hint.

“And we don’t have time for it, since we have to take dear Harry here on the grand tour.” George added quickly.

“Good choice.” I answered.

“Well, Mr. Potter if you don’t mind us, we’ll be taking you away from the lovely company of this great catch here.” They came over and each took a cheek to swoop down and kiss at the same time.

Harry laughed as I shoved them away. “Oh, sod off!”

“Already gone.”

“This way Harry.”

It was a little while later when they returned; Hermione and I were infatuated with my brother’s Patent Daydream Charms. It really was extraordinary magic, and to think my brother’s hadn’t even finished school yet they were already doing so well for themselves.

“What are you girls still doing over here?” asked Fred.

“Haven’t you seen our section for lovely witches like yourselves?”

They led us over to their Wonder Witch products and I instantly found myself drawn over the love potions. There were only about a million or so girls in the area pushing and giggling and plotting schemes to slip some into the drink of the boy they fancied. It was a bit overwhelming in fact, but I still found myself -for reasons unknown at the moment- attracted to them.

“They actually work?” I asked my brothers, who here standing with Harry away from the female frenzy.

“Of course they do! For as long as twenty-four hours,” something in what he said made me sink.

“But they are not on sale for our sister.” George finished.

“And may I ask why not?”

“From what Ron’s told us, you have about five boys tailing after you at this very moment and we are in no way going to help that cause.”

“Well the one boy who I want to give it to hasn’t been tailing after me!” No. I didn’t say that, but it’s what came to my mind, and it surprised me, I hadn’t been so admittedly crazy about Harry to myself in a while. I looked over at him and wondered why it had been so long. I wasn’t going to give him a love potion, especially if it was only going to last a day, by the end of the twenty four hours he still wouldn’t feel a thing for me and it would all have been a lie. It wouldn’t be fair to him, or to me. Besides if I knew Harry he probably wouldn’t react to the potion and it would just turn into an embarrassing attempt.

Besides I had Dean.

As if on cue my brothers continued, taking my silence as a denial to their words.

“You are dating a boy by the name of Dean Thomas aren’t you? Or is everything Ron has been telling us a lie?”

“You really shouldn’t believe him, he’s an over dramatic git.”

“So you’re not dating a boy by the name of Dean Thomas?”

“Yes I am! Are you happy now? At least he’s in Gryffindor this time; how could I forget the grief you gave me for dating a Ravenclaw?” I huffed.

It wasn’t too long after that, that I found Arnold, my new pet Pygmy Puff, and watched as the golden trio slipped out of my parent’s watchful eyes disappearing out of the shop. They were following Draco Malfoy and I didn’t need to know why. But it would have been nice to have been invited, or at least told what they were up to. I could spend all summer with those three and when the first opportunity presented itself they would drop me like a burning piece of treacle tart. It hurt, but at least I had gotten used to it.

So I, being the amazing person that I am, did what I always did when they were finding trouble without permission- I covered up for them.

“Ginny, have you seen Harry, Ron or Hermione?” mum asked when she found me playing with Arnold.

“Oh yes, they told me they were going to help Fred and George in the back for a bit, seeing as this place is so busy.”

“Oh that’s nice of them.” she smiled, and then looked at me and noticed something. “And why aren’t you helping out? Really Ginny you should follow their example!”

“Yes mum I guess you’re right.” That was how it always went. I would be scolded for doing nothing, and I never once told them I saved their butts. To this day they have no idea how many times I’ve done that. But that moment I walked away from my mother mumbling, scathingly annoyed. “Yea if she knew what those three were really up to I’d be the one on the pedestal.”

I ran in on their conversation with mum when they managed to sneak back into the store.

“I just went to the back room where you were supposed to be and I couldn’t see either of you!”

Ron looked at Harry in question, but Hermione was the one to step in. “That’s exactly where we were, you just might have missed us, we were back there. In the back room. All three of us.”

I rolled my eyes at her sad attempt. My mum narrowed her eyes but walked away, letting it go.

Summer ended, like all good things, but I was looking forward to seeing Dean again. I loved the thought of how much he liked me and loved that I was appreciated in a way that I never got anywhere else. Outside of Dean I was just one of a thousand red heads, he made me think I was otherwise.

Boarding the train was an interesting experience that year. Ron and Hermione instantly went off for their prefect meeting leaving Harry and I alone, though I hadn’t noticed, I was searching for Dean when Harry came up behind me and tapped my shoulder.

“Fancy trying to find a compartment?”

I looked into his eyes, finding the sparkle I always did, but my urge to see Dean suddenly overcame me. And there I was with Harry asking me to find a compartment with him, alone, and I said,

“Sorry Harry, I’ve promised to meet Dean, I’ll see you later alright?”

He nodded, but I couldn’t read his face.

As I walked away I could have sworn I felt his eyes on me, but I bet it was just my imagination. I met Dean and sat with him for most of the ride, picturing Harry’s face and trying to understand what he was thinking. I was normally so good at it but it just threw me off. There was confusion, mixed with some kind of…sadness…or disappointment? I wasn’t sure.

A little while later the excitement on the train picked up again when I somehow landed in the Slug Club. This was an elite group of students that the new Hogwarts professor, Horace Slughorn, concocted in order to make connections with the most promising students.

Honestly I really do let my temper get away from me at times, the only reason I found myself in that club was for hexing Zacharias Smith after he annoyed me so much, interrogating me about what happened at the Department of Mysteries. Not only was it none of his business, I didn’t want to talk about it- with anyone. Some memories are better forgotten, I lost a close friend that day and Smith was acting as though it would be the talk of the school if he got to find out what really went down. But still, my reaction was a bit rash. At least I didn’t get into trouble and the impressive magic I performed was appreciated by Slughorn, enough for him to be eager to get me in his club.

And again, when Harry took forever to enter the Great Hall for the opening feast, it served as the icing on top of the cake for a truly interesting start to a truly interesting year. After the sorting Mr. Potter made his entrance, rather quickly, trying his best not to gain too much attention though that was close to impossible, he must have just been trying to avoid letting anyone get a good look at him. After all, what would people start saying when they saw Harry Potter, The Chosen One, who hadn’t been seen since the train ride, walk in late covered in dried blood?

“It looks like his own this time.” I said as he made his way over to where Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean and I were seated.

Dean looked at me, confused but Hermione understood what I meant. “And most of it from his nose,”

“He’s angry.” I concluded.

“Extremely.” Ron and Hermione answered unanimously.

He found us and forced himself between his two best friends. I looked at Dean and smiled as though nothing out of the ordinary was taking place, attempting anything to get the attention off of poor Harry. Unfortunately, it didn’t work as the group was leaning in to catch anything Harry was saying that could explain his state of war like bloodiness. Harry refused to say anything, and once Hermione cleaned him up I noticed Draco Malfoy on the other side of the Hall doing exaggerated movements resembling someone’s nose being smashed in a million pieces. I looked back at Harry and realized the missing piece to that puzzle. My hands clenched into fists and my jaw set.

The bloody nerve of that boy, to this day I still am not sure if I will ever begin to not hate Draco Malfoy.

Dean noticed something was wrong, “What is it?”

“It’s nothing. Just a ferret problem,” I said.

He let out one laugh. “You are highly amusing you know that?”

“I try.”

“But that doesn’t mean I understand anything you say.”

I sighed, “I know.”

The year started as it always did, teachers drowning students in homework the very first chance they got, and since that was my fifth year I knew it was going to be a headache.

It wasn’t a walk in the park for the others either. It seemed sixth year was just as, if not more, demanding than O.W.L. year. Whenever I saw Harry Ron or Hermione they were hidden by a stack of books and covered in ink. Dean was just the same but we had taken to doing homework and our studying together on one of the chairs in the common room each night. I got at least three looks from Ron each five minutes as though he was expecting us to do something inappropriate in the common room, I remember hardly being able to concentrate on my work for how mad I was at him.

But if anything defined that year for me, it was Quidditch. Yes I had played on the Gryffindor team occasionally when they needed a replacement, like I had filled in for Harry when he was put under that Quidditch ban from Umbridge and I played seeker. But when I go back and think of that blissful year all the memories somehow tied their way back to that incredible Quidditch season.

The morning of try outs Ron and Harry made it to the Great Hall for breakfast before I did, and that was a shock, but that must have been due to try out excitement. The buzz going around that school was mad. It seemed that everyone and their house elf wanted to go out for the team. And of course it wasn’t just because of some crazy increase in the game’s popularity, but in the immense increase of Harry’s popularity. As though he didn’t have enough of that.

He was now “The Chosen One” not only would he live with being the Boy-who-Lived but now another title came about. I wanted to see the day when he could just be plain old Harry.

Of course it didn’t help that he had grown about a foot over the summer and filed out, completely. But I’m just stating fact.

Dean was tall too.

Try outs would have taken over a week to get through if he really allowed each person who showed out a full trial. It was hard not to laugh at the scene I came across when I made it down to the pitch. So I didn’t try. I laughed. Harry was running his hand through his hair, as I went to sit by the awaiting want-to-be chasers.

“If you are NOT in Gryffindor, please leave NOW!” He yelled. Nothing was ever easy when it had something to do with him. I shook my head when a group of third year girls giggled their way off to the stands looking back at Harry over their shoulders. I was never like that over him. Talk about obvious.

It was taking forever. I remember being under that sun for so long, watching and growing frustrated as people wasted time and energy. Time was dragging and if I hadn’t wanted to play so badly that season I would have cut my losses and gone to find something else to do.

Thank Merlin I didn’t.

Harry made it through the beaters eventually and he called for the chasers. As everyone began to create a single filed line, which was quickly turning into chaos, Harry grabbed my arm. In the confusion he pulled me to the front.

“What am I doing?” I asked him in a whisper not necessarily wanting to go first.

“Saving me and our precious time,” he whispered back.

“Hey!” yelled a fourth year at the head of the mess. “That’s skipping!”

“Being reprimanded already Potter?” I asked him. “You might want to be careful they might just pull a mutiny already.”

“Oh shut up,” he muttered rolling his eyes; he turned to the boy, “Well she was the first one ready! And last time I checked I was the one running this!”

I started to laugh again.

“Oh Merlin! Is everyone really trying to make this a disaster?”

“No!” I told him between laughs, “Honestly Harry, Katie Bell wouldn’t have done any better.”

“Get on with it Weasley,” he said fighting a smile himself.

“Alright, alright, but remember you were the one who needed me.”

I flew really well. Watching Harry all summer must have influenced my technique, it was a perfect run.

And that’s how I ended up playing chaser for the rest of the day, filling in where a chaser was needed. When it was time for the keepers to fly Harry asked me to do the work, not that I minded. Helping him made things go smoother, faster and it made things much more amusing.

“I’m pretty sure everyone will think I went easy on Ron,” I said just before they started, Ron was trying out for keeper of course.

Harry just shrugged, “At this point I’m so hungry I wouldn’t object to closing my eyes and point to someone at random.”

He had something there… I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was well into the late afternoon. “Ok then,” I placed one hand over my eyes and spun in one complete circle pointing at where I knew Ron was standing. I opened my eyes in false surprise and smiled. “Look! Problem solved, let’s go.” I turned toward the castle. “Treacle Tart Harry?” I suggested over my shoulder as I tried to make a run for it.

He snorted and quickly took hold of my wrist not letting me go anywhere. “Ok, you lot are the last group so let’s make this move fast and painless so…” but no one was listening. There was pushing and shoving, yelling and screaming. It had been a long day, and Harry seemed too tired to regain control.

“HEY! IF YOU REALLY WANT TO BE ON THIS TEAM THEN THE FIRST RULE IS TO LISTEN TO THE CAPTAIN!” I called.

“SO SHUT IT AND MAKE ONE LINE!” he finished. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The crowd had gone silent and I smiled at our work, at least they were starting to form something that resembled a line, and were doing so quietly. I looked over at Ron, and my poor brother was rather green. I knew it must have been the nerves but he was staring at Harry and me rather strangely. “Do I have something on my face?” I asked Harry.

He looked down at me, “No.”

“Hmm. Neither do you.” I shrugged.

“Uh…ok….Mclaggen isn’t it?” he asked the boy at front of the line. Boy was more of an understatement; he was huge, wide and tall. Handsome face too.

“Yes it is. And don’t you forget it,” he replied pompously, suddenly making him look like a troll. First impressions are the most crucial after all.

“Yea, well you’re up.” Checking his watch Harry turned back to me. “5 shots I think will do, and the faster we finish the faster we can eat, hopefully not missing dinner.”

“Done.” I meant to mount my broom but something held me back. That’s when I realized Harry’s hand was still gripping my wrist. I looked down at it and realized we were practically holding hands subconsciously. I understood Ron’s queer look then.

Harry noticed my preoccupation and quickly let go. “Err...Sorry.” He didn’t blush, as I didn’t either, but he had that same look of confusion on his face.

“No…no problem.” I didn’t meet his eyes.

Ron eventually got the spot but don’t ask me how, I just remember worrying about nothing other than the ball and my broom. And definitely not my tingling wrist.

The first few practices went great, Harry was a natural at giving pointers, helping and leading our team. It was also safe to say we were a fun group. Ron on the team ended up being entertaining but it wasn’t too soon before the downsides of having brothers made themselves shown.

One day after practice Dean met me by the changing rooms.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I smiled as he took my hand and we made our way to the castle. Dean and I didn’t speak much. Where as Michael would never shut up. Michael would go on and on about his house’s Quidditch team and how they were going to win the house cup, it was never ending chatter. It drove me half mad, but Dean was the complete opposite. He would keep to himself around me. Granted it seemed he had a great old time with his friend’s, Harry and Ron being some of them, but with me…when we did speak it wasn’t about anything in particular.

Although the few times we did have conversations, he liked to talk about me. Not that I minded that much, I never really got to talk about myself, usually it was either about one of my older brothers or Harry. It was nice to have something that was all my own for a while. It was nice to have someone interested and preoccupied with me and only me.

We were about one corridor away from the common room when he pulled me into the secret passageway behind the tapestry.

“What are you doing?” I laughed.

He stood close to me even though there was plenty of space, and I got an idea of what he was trying to do. “Getting some privacy with my very pretty girlfriend.”

“Something tells me you’re all talk Thomas.”

He smirked placing his hands on my waist, “Well then I’ll shut up.”

He was rather corny, I wasn’t really one for loovey gooey types, but he was a good kisser. He held me close and kissed me deeply, I gave him back just what he was giving me.

I never saw sparks though. How everyone says when you do when you meet “the one” and some kind of explosion happens when you kiss, but all I got from Dean was that he thought I was a great snog partner, and though that may have bothered me, at that exact moment I didn’t care.

Things got pretty intimate in that secluded corridor, I felt his hands getting lower on my back and I wasn’t getting any air. He didn’t want to stop, I remember that well enough, he would have been happy to stay there forever, but I wasn’t. I was just about to pull away when suddenly I didn’t have to because we were interrupted.

“OI!”

Whirling around I found Ron and Harry with surprised looks on their faces, I thought Ron was about to throw up. And instantly I grew annoyed, my brother had no business looking at me that way. And then there was Harry. I couldn’t begin to describe that one, shock, anger, embarrassment, any one of those with something else. Back then I took it as disappointment and shame. For a moment I felt mad at myself for disappointing him, but just as fast, I realized this had nothing what so ever to do with either of them.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t want to find my sister snogging people in public!”

Unbelievable, “This as a deserted corridor until you came butting in!” I snapped.

Dean was embarrassed, but managed to say, “Er…c’mon, Ginny, let’s go back to the common room…”

I didn’t miss the look Harry gave Dean. I honestly did NOT need another over protective older brother. “You go!” I told him, “I want a word with my dear brother!” my temper seeping through each word. He left, not that I cared, I could handle those two on my own any day. “Right.” I said tossing my hair out of my face to get a perfect view of him. “Let’s get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I got out with or what I do with them, Ron-”

“Yeah it is!” he interrupted me. He actually interrupted me. “Do you think I want people saying my sister is a-”

There was no way I was going to let him finish that thought. I pulled out my wand, “A what? A what exactly?” even though I was bloody angry, those words hurt. I was not some kind of Cho Chang, Pansy Parkinson or Romilda Vane, I had too much dignity for that, but for my own brother to hint that I was some kind of….I still don’t want to even think about it.

Harry spoke up right then, “He doesn’t mean anything, Ginny-”

“Oh yes he does!” and for him to hint it in front of Harry of all people… it was worse than anything. What I must have looked like in Harry’s eyes, that disappointment I thought I saw burned me. I grew mad at Harry and yelled at him too, “Just because he’s never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he’s ever had is from our Auntie Muriel-”

“Shut you mouth!” Ron was the color of fire at that point, his eyes were so narrow I could hardly see them.

“No I will not!” Ron pulled out his wand too. “I’ve seen you with Phlegm, hoping she’ll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her; it’s pathetic!” I knew they were low blows but I would never quit getting grief from him every time I kissed a boy. It wasn’t fair, and it was just because he had no idea what it was like. “If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn’t mind so much that everyone else does it!”

Harry was in between us at that point, not that it mattered Ron was going to get what was coming to him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he roared, causing Harry to stand in front of me, arms outstretched protectively. Leave it to Ginevra Weasley to notice that while in a heated fight with her brother. “Just because I don’t do it in public-”

What a joke! Of all the things he could have said, he chose the one thing his best friend and sister, the only two other people in the room, would know it was a lie straight off.

I pushed Harry out of my way, “Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?”

“You-” but as he said it a jet of light dashed from his wand, missing me by pure centimeters. Harry’s abrupt reaction made me pause. He grabbed Ron by the collar and pushed him up against the wall. I was left behind with my wand limp at my side. My brother just cursed at me, how much more pathetic could I get? I almost wanted to cry, he made me so angry, though I was more ashamed of myself. I wouldn’t for the life of me let on though.

“Don’t be stupid-” Harry started but I cut him off.

“Harry’s snogged Cho Chang!” that vile witch. “And Hermione snogged Victor Krum, it’s only you who an act like it’s something disgusting, Ron, and that’s just because you’ve got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!” I stormed away after that. Not even going back up to the common room, but outside where I could blow things up without anyone telling me otherwise.

It took a few days to stop steaming but that didn’t mean I spoke to Ron. When the first Quidditch game arrived we met it with great conditions and great luck. The only sour point to the match was the commentating; Zacharias Smith was truly an idiot. He down played our team’s incredible performance, and criticized every inch of each player Harry added to the Gryffindor team. But he ate his words- Ron saved everything, surprisingly easily, and I was on a scoring run. I smiled at the old favorite, “Weasley is our King” being sung by the Gryffindors in the background.

And when Harry caught the snitch I figured the only way to make the match even more perfect would be to get revenge on Smith. So I did.

“Ginny, where are you going?” I heard Harry call from the center of the massive team group hug. I was moving too fast to answer him, and swiftly collided into the commentator’s stand. I tried not laugh when I got up to see Smith in a pile of rubbish wood. A few bruises on my part was definitely worth it. The crowd roared with laughter, “Sorry professor,” I said apologetically to McGonagall, “Forgot to brake.”

I heard Harry laugh behind me and turned to face him when he picked me up in a tight hug, he let go quickly, as though he was surprised he did that, and moved onto Ron avoiding my gaze. I didn’t miss the feeling of being in his arms, however, no matter how quick that moment was.

I shook my head and went to find Dean.

The after party was eventful to say the least. Ron’s incredible performance had everyone vying for his attention and a one Lavender Brown seemed to win it. Seemed like my brother took my advice to heart.

“Looking for Ron?” I asked Harry when he arrived to the common room. “He’s over there, the filthy hypocrite.” (HBP page 300)

Looking over to where I mentioned Harry’s grimace in reaction to Ron’s disgusting public display of hormones was dually felt.

“It looks like he’s eating her face, doesn’t it? But I suppose he’s got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry.” I patted him on the arm and walked toward the refreshment table but not without noticing Hermione walking into the scene. My blood ran cold, I wanted to run to her to warn her, but it was too late. I could practically see Hermione’s heart breaking before me. She ran out of the room before I could do anything. I noted Harry following her and figured I’d let them be.
“Want some butter beer?” Dean asked.

“No thanks,” I replied sadly. “I’m not really in the mood to celebrate.” I felt more like apologizing. I had a distinct feeling that my outburst at Ron had acted as a catalyst towards this whole mess. I suddenly knew I definitely should not have told Ron that Hermione had snogged Victor Krum.

***
He was sitting alone, a few days later, in one of his favorite arm chairs by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. It was late in the evening so everyone was out enjoying themselves the way all teenagers were supposed to.

It was strange not to see him with Hermione or Ron, but seeing that the pair were not speaking or tolerating each other at the moment, due to the whole Lavender fiasco, it left Harry alone.

Harry was flipping through some book, curious and interested, but when I came closer I saw that it was a potion’s text book. I rolled my eyes, either he had something hidden between the covers or he was taking his new career choice seriously, there was no way Harry was that intrigued with potions on his own choosing. Either way it looked like he could use a distraction, a… friend.

I sneaked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder. He was so absorbed in his reading he didn’t notice my face just inches from his ear. I was about to speak when I took notice of his book, it had scribbles all over the pages, ink scratching out the text and writing over it. It was potions, revised recipes, but not Harry’s handwriting.

“What are you reading Mr. Potter?”

He jumped out of his skin, as well as a good foot above the chair, slamming the book shut as it fell to the carpet. I grabbed my sides in hysterics, he really had no idea I was there.

“Good God Ginny. Don’t- don’t… do that!” he said sharply trying to regulate his up-tempo breathing.

“Wow, Harry wow, you can face the darkest wizard of all time again and again with no questions asked, but I come up behind you and you almost have a heart attack.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“How about, ‘You’re right Ginny, if You-Know-Who isn’t the one to finish me it’ll be you’.” He glared as I seated myself at his feet. “But still, what were you reading?”

“Uh… nothing I was just studying.”

“Hermione would never believe it.”

He smiled, “Anyway, what are you doing up here at this time? Shouldn’t you be out with Dean?” I may have imagined it, but now I know I hadn’t, I thought I saw a sense of sadness in his voice and expression. Back then I took it that he thought I was going to leave and he didn’t want to be alone.

“I can always set aside time for The Chosen One.”

Rolling his eyes he picked up the book and placed it back in his bag, then readjusted himself so that his head was resting on one arm of the chair and his legs hanging off the other arm. “Don’t I feel special.” his eyes were softly looking at me.

“You know, Harry, I haven’t had the chance to tell you that I think you are doing an amazing job with the team.”

He sighed, “Thanks, I love it, it’s just…” he trailed off. I shifted over so that my back was leaning against the foot of the seat and my head touched his chest, so that I had to turn my neck to look at him.

“It’s just what?”

“It’s a lot of pressure is all; I feel that since everyone thinks so high and mighty of me, I’m expected to be to be brilliant with everything I do. Like it’s expected of me to win the house cup.”

I shrugged, “Tell them to sod off.”

He laughed. “You’re the one person who would be so straight forward.”

“Listen. You shouldn’t care what people think, especially after all you learned last year, you know that. The only thing that matters is what you expect of yourself, and I know that sounds like a ratty old cliché but you’ve got enough to worry about other than people’s expectations.”

“How do you know I have so much on my mind?” he raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You’re Harry Potter; you always have things on your mind.”

The way he looked at me then, it was as though he was seeing me for the first time. There was this new emotion as well, something I had never seen him give me before. But I couldn’t figure out what it was.

I was so stupid. So incredibly stupid that I allowed what happened next, to happen.

“I guess you’re right. Thanks Gin.”

“Hmmm… I think I’ve heard that before,” I said softly, remembering him writing that to me, we had never spoken about our letters from the summer. They were mostly just an unsaid understanding.

He smiled, “Yeah.”

I wanted to lighten the mood, “Don’t worry though, we’re going to win the cup anyway.”

It worked, “Well with you scoring the way you have been lately,”

“And your habit to always catch the snitch,”

“We have it in our hands.”

I nodded, “And we can’t forget our secret weapon.”

He leaned towards me, dropping his voice in mock secrecy. “What?”

“You really don’t know?” I whispered leaning in as well.

“No.” His voice cracked on the word, which was strange, that never happened to him around me.

“Uh…” I almost forgot what I was going to say because of that distraction, “Felix Felicis.”

His eye brows came together, but the smirk on his face was prominent.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you did Harry. Pretending to drop some luck in Ron’s drink and then getting Hermione all riled up.”

“Well, I…but…” he looked ashamed and I laughed.

“Harry it was brilliant, I‘m just wondering if you thought it up all by yourself.” I smiled.

“Yes I did,” he said defensively.

“Hmm… Not bad Potter. If only you had thought of it sooner, before Ron completely pummeled Demelza in the face. But hey I’m not one to complain.”

He looked at me for a moment and then started violently laughing. I stared incredulously not remembering having an intention to make him laugh. I had been entirely serious. “Well…in a way it’s better,” he said between laughs, “now the Slytherins will be too scared of him to sing!”


I began to laugh as well, “I’ll let Demelza know that she took one for the team.” and we both fell into fits of laughter. That was the moment I realized it.


There we were so close, with my chest practically resting lovingly on his chest laughing our heads off in our own world and I wasn’t nervous at all. I wasn’t blushing my heart was under control, I was happy and comfortable. Actually my heart was very much out of control, but then, I only thought it was because of the laughter.

I was stupid.

I realized that I wasn’t fawning over him anymore. We were two best friends, who cared about each other, and that was it. That’s all we would ever be.

I was over Harry Potter; my heart that was tattered by the battle of unrequited love was healed. I was happy with another boy… My infatuation was over.

Or so I thought.

I ignored the back part of my brain telling me that I was wrong.

Sure I knew Harry better than anyone, Ron and Hermione were the exception but even they didn’t understand how to deal with his moods. Sure he needed me in times like this when his two best friends couldn’t be there for him. But I could accept just being friends then. The little girl dreams and prophecies I made at five years old, maybe they meant something else.
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