When Ginny Weasley awoke one cloudy morning half way through July, it was one of the few times she couldn’t hear any of her brothers already awake. She glanced toward her wardrobe to decide what to wear. This wardrobe was one of the few things she owned that was filled with unusual items. In it, she mostly had Muggle clothes like jeans, t-shirts and those hooded jumpers, which were slightly more durable than normal wizard wear. She didn’t have much, gazing back and forth at what was hung there, so she always went to great lengths to take care of what she did have. Not that it really mattered, because her mother could fix just about anything that wasn’t too mangled by an unruly girl.
Her parents at first thought it quite odd that she often asked for t-shirts when browsing in thrift stores, but compared to her brothers, this peculiarity was the least of their worries. Ginny had hoped once that if she had shown enough interest in Muggles, her father would agree to let her study in primary school with the rest of the kids her age from the nearby village. However, a few years ago her mother and father broke the news to Ginny that they just couldn’t afford it with so many of her brothers still in wizard school.
Everyone Ginny knew had gone to wizard school. She had four older brothers currently attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Shopping with her mother in Diagon Alley, she heard all sorts of stories of kids from wizarding families who were waiting for their eleventh birthdays to get their letters by owl. There were half-bloods who worried whether they would get them or not, and half-bloods who didn’t know they had a magical parent until they got their own letter. Then, interestingly enough the Muggle-borns, who didn’t know anybody in the wizarding world, and were visited not by an owl but rather by someone from Hogwarts itself.
Ginny, in fact, came from a very long line of wizards. Nobody in her family even thought twice about whether or not she would be accepted at Hogwarts. Last year in Ron’s first-year letter on his eleventh birthday Hogwarts expected a reply by the last day of July regarding whether or not he would accept or decline their invitation to attend. There was only one small complication Ginny had only recently come to realize. That was, her eleventh birthday came after that fateful reply no later than date.
Ginny clearly remembered when half of her brothers received their letters on their eleventh birthdays. She was too young to remember the others. She had two other brothers besides the four currently attending Hogwarts, both of which had already graduated.
Bill, the eldest, worked for the nearest wizarding bank, Gringotts in London. He was currently stationed in Egypt, breaking curses protecting ancient Egyptian tombs and collecting gold for the goblins that ran the bank. He always wrote with exasperation about the horrible ways in which Muggles had died trying to bypass the magical traps set by ancient wizards. When Ginny was younger her mum sometimes wouldn’t let her read Bill’s letters, fearing they would give her nightmares. Apparently, the days Bill was in any real danger were few and far between though. Most of his job required him poring over maps or texts, and translating hieroglyphics and ancient runes into English, Latin, or Greek and figuring out how to disable the traps before even attempting to open the tombs. Whenever Bill would talk about work and go into detail about the curse traps around tombs he would pull out all these complicated charts and notes all of which Ginny found very dull.
Charlie on the other hand, made Ginny’s mum give a great worried sigh whenever he was mentioned. Charlie was Ginny’s other graduated brother, the second eldest, who also lived abroad. These days Charlie stayed in Romania, where he worked with wild dragons. Last Christmas Ginny and her parents went to visit Charlie on the Longhorn reserve in Romania. The Longhorns had very pretty golden horns, it appalled her that they had been slaughtered just for those horns so much so in the past that their population had dwindled down to next to nothing.
Charlie explained that wizards used the horns in spells and potions, that the blood, hide, and some organs were also harvested, and that much of a hunted dragon was used for practical wizard purposes. They weren’t simply making trinkets like when Muggles had poached elephants or rhinoceroses to near extinction. Working at the reserve everyone helped the main breeding program to bring back the Longhorn numbers.
Mollified only slightly, Ginny had continued her tour and instantly fell in love with the Peruvian Viper. She loved the way the light caught on the orangy-red smooth copper scales, like campfire in the form of an animal. And they were so cute and tiny compared to the other dragons, the adults not getting much taller or longer than her father’s Muggle car, which was sort of like an automated carriage. Smiling, she told Charlie this was the enclosure where she’d spend most of her time if she worked here like he did and would focus on breeding these adorable little guys. Charlie had laughed and told her that everyone here stayed as far away from the Peruvians as possible because one of their most preferred food sources was people.
Sure enough, glancing back at the enclosure, two of them had come up close and were eyeing Ginny with such an intensity she could feel her heart begin to hammer in her chest. At the time everything around her had been drowned out and for a moment, all she could see in the world was their faces, taking in her every move. Charlie had broken the predator-prey spell when he spoke and pointed out their small fangs, telling Ginny that even if you did manage to evade one, getting nicked by one of those was still more lethal than the same thing happening from one of the other breeds.
Ginny had calmed down a bit after visiting an Antipodean Opaleye. Another pretty dragon, if you were into girly rainbow-like pearly iridescent shimmers in the scales in their hides, it was easily Ginny’s mum’s favorite in the least. Opaleyes weren’t considered aggressive and Charlie had agreed that they were a bit boring. He didn’t personally see to these dragons very often.
Charlie worked with the bolder dragons similar to the Romanian Longhorns that needed many highly trained and strong wizards such as the Norwegian Ridgebacks, Hungarian Horntails, and the Ukrainian Ironbellies, of which he said there was a rumor of one in the depths of Gringotts even though Bill wouldn’t confirm it. Charlie looked at Ginny with a sly smile though and said Bill hadn’t denied it either. Ginny had just shaken her head, already well aware of how her brothers teased each other, and her for that matter.
Ginny’s dad wanted to see what Charlie did on a regular daily basis and Charlie put his mother slightly at ease when he said that his team mainly just studied the dragons’ lives. Ever since Dumbledore discovered the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, whatever they were, the wizarding world has been adamant about studying dragons and finding out what other uses their magical properties could achieve.
Back in her room, the knot Ginny had been carrying in her stomach all summer began to tighten at the thought that she herself might never get to learn what the twelve uses of dragon’s blood were.
Traditionally, students received the letter and sent their reply back regarding whether or not they would be attending Hogwarts at all on their eleventh birthday. Ginny’s birthday however, fell right into the roughly six weeks of between when the letter would already be past due at the end of July and the cutoff date in September that forced all students, Muggle or wizard, to wait to begin school the following year. Her eleventh birthday was less than a month away, but the reply for the acceptance or declination letter Hogwarts sends to all of its first-year students was due back nearly two weeks before her birthday even came around. If Ginny didn’t get her invitation letter soon, it meant she either wasn’t deemed magical enough to attend Hogwarts, or that she would have to unfairly wait another full year before she could go.
Trying to tell her mum or dad about her worries over the letter was nearly impossible. With so many people in the house, Ginny rarely got a word in edgewise unless all her brothers were outside. Quite different than when she was alone at the house with her mother all year long while they were at school and their father at work. It was okay up until last year when Ron, the youngest Weasley boy who was just a little over a year older than Ginny, started at Hogwarts. Ron was twelve now and beginning his second year this fall. Being absolutely the only kid in the house during that time was very lonely. She couldn’t stand the idea of having another year of hearing about what her brothers were getting up to and learning or getting into trouble for without being a part of it. Whenever Ginny could broach the subject of her missing letter neither one of her parents seemed anywhere near as bothered as she was and they never tried to solve every problem for their kids like some parents she’d see in Diagon Alley anyway, probably because there were so many of us, Ginny thought.
Mum did her best, she supposed, teaching Ginny not only Muggle primary school lessons, but household charms, and proper pronunciation of verb conjugations in the magical language as well. Even if Ginny only practiced wand and wrist movements with a fresh cut switch from outside, she was at least much better at her Greek and Latin pronunciation than she used to be, better than Ron even.
Ginny hated the switches that she practiced with; no matter how short she cut them, they always felt too wobbly and messed with her wrist movements, meaning her mum would make her do them over and over again until she got them right with the makeshift wand. Ginny’s mum had promised her a brand new wand of her own for when she started at Hogwarts, brand new school robes, and a small pet of her own too since she couldn’t take Abellios. Bill and Charlie usually sent a small pile of gold in the middle of summer to help out with all the school supply shopping and this time they both had sent more than usual, knowing five younger brothers and sisters were attending this year. Last year, Charlie had helped by sending his old wand as a gift to Ron as well.
She was glad that girls’ wizard robes differed from guys’ robes a bit and that she didn’t get hand-me-downs from her brothers in those at least. Everything else was going to need to be purchased second hand though, books, cauldron, and potion scales. With only two graduated brothers, there just weren’t enough hand-me-downs to go around.
Ginny reached into the closet and pulled out a slate colored t-shirt; it was a bit big, but that was the point in all the clothes that she ever asked about getting. She pulled on an old pair of jeans handed down from one of the twins her mum had shown her how to patch up last year. Finally she dug around the not too dirty pile of clothes her mother hated and pulled out an old subdued-green colored hooded jumper she’d been given from Charlie and hastily threw her hair into a ponytail. It was finally getting long, so she managed a few braid plaits, more to keep it from getting too windblown later rather than any sense of style as she’d been taught to braid for. She tied off the end and tiptoed downstairs.
The bottom of the staircase came to a little landing where the Weasleys stored feed for their animals. Going straight on the landing would take you out the back door, and turning right would take you into the kitchen. Ginny could hear her mother bustling around in the kitchen after all. She carefully opened the chicken feed bin and half-filled two of the small drawstring bag pouches they used to carry the feed outside with, then she stuffed some bird seed to the remainder in both bags her mum kept for the robins, sparrows, and quail when they came for the summer. Both pouches went into her front pocket, one of which she also tied the drawstring to one of her belt loops on her jeans so she wouldn’t lose it if it fell out later. As stealthily as she knew how she snuck over to the back door and managed to open a space just wide enough without it creaking for her to slip outside. If her mother saw her, she’d be roped into practicing more kitchen spells before the boys woke up and breakfast started, and as much as she wanted to talk to her mum again about her non-existent acceptance letter, she couldn’t miss this chance to practice riding a broom in the orchard on a cool brightening sunny morning when all her brothers slept in at the same time.
Once outside, the chickens flurried over to Ginny as soon as she stepped off the porch. She took out one of the drawstring bags and began throwing corn and bird seed to them to keep them as quiet as possible, and right on cue the garden birds followed the chickens. With the sentries adequately bribed and too busy to cluck after her, Ginny took off for the broom shed.
There were three brooms in the shed; one of them was Ron’s old Shooting Star that Bill and Percy used to ride around on, which was originally a hand-me-down from Arthur, Ginny’s dad. Percy was the next eldest brother after Charlie, he was turning sixteen soon and starting his sixth year at Hogwarts. The other brooms were both Cleansweep Fives, not as good as the Cleansweep Seven out now and nowhere near in league with the Nimbus 2000, but the best the Weasleys had. The Cleansweep Fives belonged to Ginny’s older twin brothers Fred and George. Fred and George were fourteen and starting their fourth year at Hogwarts this fall; both of them had previously made their house Quidditch team and Charlie, who used to be a Quidditch captain, chipped in with Bill to get them their very own brooms to play on so they didn’t have to use old school ones. These were what Ginny looked forward to when they came home on holidays.
Ginny grabbed the one on the left this time; the one on the right she used last time and she wanted to get a good feel between the slight differences between two brooms of the same model. Ginny loved flying and loved watching Quidditch but was rarely allowed to play or practice with her brothers. She didn’t have a broom of her own, and they weren’t keen on standing around on the ground taking turns either. Mum said it was a boy thing, and that Ginny could use the Shooting Star all she wanted when they were away at school. Up until last year though she had had to sneak out here when Ron wasn’t around to notice to get a chance. Riding his broom in peace was the only consolation she had had while all her brothers were away at school and even though she knew she would have that advantage again if she didn’t attend Hogwarts this year, the old Shooting Star’s ride wasn’t worth missing out on learning magic with her own wand.
Quick before anyone at home missed her she mounted the broom and took off through the rows of trees in the orchard. Stopping at a tree that held quite a few ripe apples, she paused to take out the drawstring bag she had emptied for the chickens and garden birds and looked for two of the biggest apples she could fit to put inside it. Tying it closed, she looped the ends of the strings through another belt loop so she wouldn’t lose that one either before putting it back in her pocket and took off again.
She stayed below the trees’ canopy so Muggle villagers wouldn’t see her and slowed down when she got near a tree grove bordering the Weasleys' land and the neighbors to wind her way slowly over briars and under branch hangings at the grove entrance and then practiced her acceleration and braking both while turning and rising and diving. The trees inside the tree grove were very old and had many thick branches spread far apart from each other, making maneuverability fairly easy for the practiced rider. When she felt confident enough with the controls, she looked for and began to chase squirrels up and down and through the branches of the grove trees.
The little gray squirrels were quick and very agile, bounding from one branch to another, racing around tree trunks, and even jumping from one tree’s branch clear over to the wisps of another tree’s branches. Once, a couple of years back, a squirrel actually missed, and Ginny dove for it before it hit the ground. At the time she was riding Ron’s old Shooting Star though and never would have caught up, but luckily it managed to snag a branch a bit further down the tree with its front paws and didn’t seem any worse for the wear when it scampered away. After that incident, Ginny didn’t chase them quite so closely, but rather followed them parallel to the trunks and along the branches as they scurried along.
She never knew which path they would follow and often laughed out loud when they out-maneuvered her. When she was younger they got away from her easily but just this past summer and the one before that, Ginny found herself nearly able to brush their tails without even seeming to hardly try when on one of the Cleansweeps. She didn’t know if this was because she had more reach with longer arms now, or if the squirrels were simply that accustomed to her after generations of her visiting their grove, or if she was actually getting better at flying. She supposed it was a combination of all three.
After more than a quarter of an hour of practice with the squirrels Ginny took a break and landed on the ground, panting slightly and holding a stitch in her side from the constant balance corrections on the broom in the air. The squirrels all began to edge down the trunks towards the ground, stomachs heaving as well. Ginny began to click her tongue, much like one does when calling a dog, or any animal towards you, and looked around for Abellios, a rare black squirrel she had found as a pup, or a kit, she still wasn’t sure what the correct term was, a juvenile in the least.
Abellios had been wandering around in the apple orchard in late March when there was still some snow on the ground, easily seen with his black fur. Ginny had scooped him up and not being able to locate a single other squirrel in the area had taken him straight home, letting him go outside as he pleased all summer long in order to learn to be on his own. That fall Ginny had taken him farther and farther away from the house until finally she introduced him to the tree grove. After a few days had passed, Abellios stopped coming back to the Burrow, the wizarding name for the Weasleys’ home. Ginny had always been able to find him in the tree grove though.
Sure enough, Abellios came down a tree, and when Ginny produced seed and grain in her hand he came and sat down right beside her. She began to throw the chicken and bird feed out to the other squirrels, and placed a small pile in front of Abellios. When all of her feed supply was gone she reached over and stroked the fur on the top of Abellios’s head, who still stayed calm while she did so. Ginny knew better than to pick him up or scratch him anymore; living out in the grove he’d more than likely picked up all the bugs and parasites again that her mother normally spelled off of animals before letting them come into the house. Abellios had just turned three this past spring. Ginny wasn’t sure how long squirrels lived. She tried looking them up once in Flourish and Blotts while her mother was helping her brothers purchase text books for school, but as squirrels aren’t magical she couldn’t find anything about them anywhere. When she asked the manager he pointed her in the direction of the small section dedicated to Muggles, but there was nothing squirrel related.
Ginny’s breathing returned to normal and she waited until the squirrels had gathered all the feed she’d thrown them in thanks for her practice and moved away to forage elsewhere. After that she got on her broom again, whereupon the remnant squirrels scurried away, and she headed to other edge of the tree grove opposite the apple orchard. Over there was a paddock, with four horses in it. Two bright bays, a somewhat young flea-bitten gray, and an old sorrel.
All of them seemed pretty gentle, Ginny knew the neighbor girl who took care of them went away to Muggle college in the winter times, but didn’t see her nearly as much the past couple of summers as she had in years before. She put up her hood which she wore in case Muggles were near or when it rained and flew slowly and low in the tree line that ran parallel to the paddock to a vantage point she knew well. There, she spied the cars in the neighbor’s driveway. All of them were gone, including the girl who came outside to see to the horses. Ginny thought she may have gotten a job which she worked at in the village, and that was possibly why she wasn’t in the pasture as often during the summer times anymore.
When she was sure no one was home, Ginny flew back to the back of the paddock, the part that went into the tree grove and provided shade for the horses, and again clicked her tongue calling the animals toward her like she had seen the Muggle girl do many times before. The two bays trotted right up to Ginny, by now used to seeing her on her flying broomstick. Together the three of them raced out to the tree line and then clear of the trees but turning to gallop parallel so Ginny could nip back inside the grove if she needed too. The bays tossed their heads and would whinny their excitement at the race.
The other two horses always looked on from a distance, the old sorrel occasionally following their progress with her head, the gray timidly keeping the sorrel between herself and Ginny as Ginny played with the bays. The gray wasn’t new so much anymore, yet it wasn’t untrained either. Ginny almost got it to take an apple from her a few weeks ago, but it stayed far away since then. The sorrel on the other hand, didn’t seem to be afraid nor to particularly care for Ginny. The sorrel grazed where it wanted and would let Ginny approach, let her pet it, and even took apples when they were offered but for the most part left well enough alone. One time Ginny saw it take off running across the paddock and chase a fox back into the tree grove, but the old girl had immediately settled down after that.
Ginny always kept an eye on her when playing with the bays. The old sorrel paid attention to everything and could hear Muggle cars coming from a long way off; she tended to point her ear at the road before turning her head to look at the passing vehicle, giving Ginny just enough time needed to turn and fly back into the trees. For now though she was just grazing contently. Ginny turned her broom for another race with the bays. She loved watching them run, they just looked so free and powerful and confident and proud; she wasn’t sure what her neighbors used them for. She knew the gray was for jumping, as was what the old sorrel used to do. She also knew that the bays were geldings and the other two were called mares. She didn’t know any of their names though. Whenever the neighbor girl was out in the paddock with them Ginny could never hear her call them by name.
The sun was starting to really warm the air by now, Ginny got down from the broom and one of the bays walked up to her and bumped his nose against her sweater pocket. Feeding the horses was special to Ginny, just like when she fed Abellios, and she didn’t want to have to run back into the trees if a Muggle car approached, so she laid the broom on a patch of dry grass. She got out the drawstring bag and pulled out one of the apples.
Both bays started tossing their heads up and down in anticipation. Ginny got out the other apple and put the empty bag back into her pocket with the other one. Holding one apple flat in each hand she fed them to both horses at the same time. She had learned before not to feed them one after another, because no matter which was second fed it always stamped and bugled its frustration and Ginny needed the animals she visited and trained with on her broomstick to stay quiet.
Giving the bays a final rub on their foreheads she walked back into the tree line and mounted the broom, flew through the tree grove, zoomed down one of the orchard rows and landed right by the broom shed. She had just put the borrowed broom away and shut the door, her hand still on the handle when from around the corner came Percy. Percy was the only brother who regularly got up as early as Ginny and their mum. Odd seeing him outside though; he usually stayed in his room and Ginny was able to sneak away whether he was awake or not.
–Don’t even think about flying off on one of your little disappearing acts. Mum went upstairs to look for you after calling for you about a hundred times from downstairs and sent me outside to stop you,†said Percy. –Come on, she wants you to help her with breakfast; she woke up Ron and the twins calling for you.â€
–Why can’t you help her with breakfast?†Ginny asked, somewhat miffed by his bossy tone.
–I have N.E.W.T classes to prepare for. As you well know because I’ve been…†Percy began.
Ginny, however, had cut him off, –Yeah, uh huh, and numerous more secret letters to write and send, no doubt.†She was getting better at that, cutting off her brothers as often as they normally did her. Her brothers always said she talked nonstop and yet she was the one who was most often interrupted. She supposed it was unfair to practice on Percy though, who never resorted to childish games ever. Percy was fifteen going on fifty. He had become very tight lipped when she brought up his letters and they began walking back to the house in silence. Percy’s birthday was coming up too, now that she thought about it, which meant he also fell into that small six weeks window of turmoil she was currently worried about.
–Hey, Perce? Um, when did you get your invitation letter from Hogwarts when you turned eleven? Was it on your birthday? I mean, isn’t your birthday after the reply no later than date? …I mean, did you get two letters or something that year? Because…†Ginny trailed off not really knowing how to say ‘because she was worried’ without sounding as fretful as their mum could get.
Percy though, had paid little attention to what Ginny did not say and answered her questions directly, –Yeah, I got two letters, one a couple of weeks into the summer holidays and the other with the school list for first-years when Bill and Charlie got their lists.†This should have cheered her up but was already problematic for Ginny; it was already past a couple of weeks into the school holidays and she still hadn’t received anything.
–So, you didn’t get any letter on your eleventh birthday at all?†said Ginny, she wanted to be absolutely sure.
–No and I should think not, my birthday is just days away from Hogwarts Express leaving King’s Cross. It would be ridiculous to wait until the last minute like that. Both for us to shop for supplies, and the school administration paperwork I imagine,†said Percy.
So what was taking so long for Ginny’s letter to arrive? Today was the fifteenth of July, almost a whole month after everyone came back for the summer holidays this year. They got to the back door and went inside. With Percy right beside her, Ginny didn’t put away the drawstring bags for chicken feed just yet. They rounded the corner and Percy went to see if Hermes, his owl, had come back this morning while Molly, Ginny’s mum, stood at the stove and a basket of eggs sat on the counter beside her.
–Percy got to you before you took off again, did he then?†Molly asked.
Ginny hesitated for a single heartbeat and then said, –Yes.â€
Before she could ask if her mother wanted her to work on the toast to go with the eggs Molly replied, –Really? Because the chickens didn’t swarm me when I stood outside forty-five minutes ago looking for you in the yard when you didn’t answer me from upstairs.†Molly turned around so fast shouting, –Accio!†and pointing her wand at Ginny she didn’t have time to react. The two pouches untied themselves from her belt loops and sped into Molly’s waiting hand. –You don’t need two pouches to feed the chickens, dear. You were off at the neighbor’s house visiting those Muggle work animals again, weren’t you? I suppose you were flying with them again, were you? Ginny, how many times must I tell you that you could be SEEN???â€
–But I wasn’t!†Ginny began.
–How can you be so sure?†Her mother’s eyes bored into Ginny.
–I …I flew over close to the house and made sure there weren’t any Muggles cars in the drive first,†Ginny muttered quietly, "nobody was home."
–YOU FLEW OVER CLOSE TO THE HOUSE?†Molly’s nostrils had begun to flare at this point. Luckily Arthur Weasley, Ginny’s dad, strolled in from work at this moment while Percy went outside to wait for Hermes. Arthur collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Molly began to shout at Arthur about his daughter, that she had taken the Weasley Crown of Mischief already this morning and how the rest of the day ought to be smooth sailing because there was no way Molly was going to tolerate something worse from one of the boys during the rest of it.
Ginny miserably sat down next to her dad, eyes lowered, listening to her mum relate her 'shenanigans' to her father, and stared at a spot on the surface of the table where George had stabbed it with a fork when he had been a toddler and had left four tiny indented holes in the surface. Molly could easily fix household furniture when it was broken by the kids but every now and then she chose not to. She called them little inconspicuous mementos from when the kids were little.
All the kids were allowed to do whatever they wanted to their rooms but these special sorts of marks were all over the common areas of the house. There was a small wisp of a burnt spot on the book shelf in the living room that Molly left behind when sanding the burn spots off magically after Bill nearly torched her collection. If you opened the pantry door, on the inside of it were drawings Charlie did once when he was young of a sinewy black dragon. In a corner near the counters for the sink on the floor were orange paint drips from when Ron messily painted the logo for his favorite Quidditch team while Molly was working on the dishes and Ginny played in a playpen. Fred had accidentally made a dent on the front side of the house outside, now hidden behind a bush, with an apple from the orchard tossed to him by George when he was pretending to hit Bludgers before they had made their house team. Applesauce had covered the side of the house and Ginny’s mum had used a water charm to rinse it off but left the dent the apple made. Even Percy had ink spills on quite a few end tables from when he was learning to write with a quill. Ginny glanced over at the living room picture window where if you looked carefully enough there was a small perfect handprint from when she was little and waiting for her dad to come home. She had stuck her greasy hand on the pane, and instead of cleaning it off her mother cast a protective charm over it to seal it to the window, so even if you cleaned over it the handprint remained.
When Molly finished catching Arthur up on Ginny’s latest attempt to break the International Statute of Secrecy, her dad turned to her and asked how she knew nobody saw her. Put on the spot, Ginny realized how foolish her response was going to sound, but ploughed on anyway. –One of the horses is an old mare, I think she’s the leader. Anyway, she wasn’t disturbed by anything outside the paddock the whole time I was there.†Ginny went on to explain to her father how the mare constantly flicked her ears and turned her head to the road or the trees whenever something was nearby and how Ginny had learned to trust the mare’s body language. She also went into more detail of how gingerly she’d approached the house and spied on the cars that would sit in the driveway.
After her father asked her for the umpteen millionth time if she realized how important it was not to do anything where Muggles could see you perform magic, like riding a broomstick, with nobody around to fix their memories, Ginny was grounded for a week and told to clean the giant fireplace in the living room after breakfast.
She was quiet during the meal, and when Ron came downstairs he asked if Errol had returned yet with anything for him. Percy had come back in after Molly finished preparing breakfast and replied that no post had come yet today, and the twins were talking about what had happened at Hogwarts at the end of the school year again. When the boys had come home they hadn’t stopped talking for days about a teacher who died trying to attack Harry; even Percy said it was true.
Ginny had seen Harry Potter twice now in person, once last fall when Ron left for his first year and then again when Ginny and her mum picked the boys up at King’s Cross Station in the spring. Ginny didn’t know it was Harry Potter the first time she’d seen him, but he had asked her mother very politely how to get onto the platform for the Hogwarts express. Ginny suspected he was a Muggle-born at the time but was still surprised he didn’t have any parents with him. It was only after he had gotten onto the train that the twins had bounded back down to the platform after stowing away their luggage, saying they had helped Harry Potter with his trunk. Mum wouldn’t let Ginny get onto the train though to see him; actually she didn’t let her out of her sight the whole time they were in London. Afterwards Ginny had heard her mother saying that Harry Potter lived with some of his Muggle relatives and that it was a shame they must’ve just dropped him off.
When Ron got off the train that spring, Harry Potter and a girl Ginny supposed was Hermione Granger from Ron’s descriptions in the letters he wrote home were with him. They didn’t get an introduction though. Harry Potter’s Muggle relatives were there and they took him straight away. As soon as they got into their father’s Muggle car Molly asked Ron what really happened with Harry Potter and that teacher.
Ron told everyone all about Hermione saving them from the Devil’s Snare, which sounded dangerous, and Ginny couldn’t believe first-years dealt with plants like that; he told them about the flying keys and how he beat the Deputy Headmistress’s transfigured-to-life chessmen.
That didn’t surprise Ginny. Dad had taught them all how to play chess and Ginny was pretty good at it, about on par with Bill. She even beat Percy quite often. Charlie and the twins didn’t care much for it, but Ron surprised everyone at his skill from a young age. Ginny hadn’t seen him lose in years, even when he played against their great aunts and uncles at family reunions.
Ron apparently even won when he was knocked out in a game too, because during the race to the Sorcerer’s Stone Harry Potter got to make the last checkmate move and he and Hermione had moved on to the next obstacle. Harry Potter had sent Hermione back though to get help, and took on some form of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by himself at the end. Whatever happened, that professor he met down there couldn’t hurt Harry Potter and died trying to attack him while Harry Potter protected the Stone.
Fred and George loved the idea of the Sorcerer’s Stone, and nagged Ron about why he didn’t tell them about it at school. The twins were always looking for ways to make more money though and were always making random bets with people who usually lost to them. So when Ron started writing letters to Harry Potter to ask him to come stay over the summer, Ginny felt very starstruck at the idea. Weeks went by though, and there was no word back. Even the twins were worried about him now; they had heard stories about how awful his Muggle relatives treated him and felt very protective of him after he became the youngest and smallest teammate on their house Quidditch team at school.
Ginny became even more starstruck when she learned that Harry Potter was the youngest Seeker on the Quidditch team in about a hundred years and that the head of the house got all kinds of permissions granted to him to have a broom at school even though first-years weren’t allowed them. Harry Potter didn’t get just any broom either, he got a Nimbus 2000, the fastest broom in the world. If he did come to visit he would bring his Nimbus, and Ginny still couldn’t think of a way to ask him to have a go on it without sounding like a complete dork.
When all her brothers left the breakfast table Ginny stayed behind to help with the dishes. Molly was a great deal calmer now about Ginny’s escapade that morning but she was still scrubbing the plates with more fierceness than was necessary. Until she came to a wooden spoon with rodent teeth marks on one end, another little inconspicuous memento. Molly slowly examined the teeth marks, then sighed and asked Ginny, –So, did you see Abellios this morning?â€
Ginny smiled, and nodded yes. –He looked fine. He still lets me pet him, and he sat down right beside me, munching on the corn and bird seed.†She looked up at Molly and said quickly, –I didn’t pick him up or pet him any more than just a quick rub between his ears though.â€
It was Molly’s turn to smile. –I know you know better than that by now.†She glanced over at Ginny with a serious expression on her face. –It's laws I’m worried about you breaking, not rules,†she said, pointing the soapy spoon at her as she spoke.
Ginny smiled again and let out her own great sigh, one of relief. Her mum wasn’t going to tell her off any more about this morning. Once her punishment was done, it would be done.
–Now go get out of that terrible jumper that makes you look like a hoodlum, put on some old clothes and comb your hair properly. Your father should have the fireplace ready soon.â€
Mum hated her jumpers with hoods, probably because many Muggles didn’t care for them because the Muggles who wore them weren’t considered upstanding, or some such thing like that. Ginny didn’t care what it made her look like, it hid her face and especially her easily identifiable vivid red hair in case she did see Muggles, and it kept the rain off her head until she got home if it randomly started raining on the cloudy days.
Ginny never had outsider problems in the Muggle village. Everyone knew she was that Weasley girl who lived outside of town with the family that kept to themselves. People she had never spoken to called her by name when saying hello, knowing she was the only girl child. Ginny decided long ago that she would never part with her hand-me-down Muggle jumpers; they were the only anonymity she had.
Back up in her room, Ginny hung her jumper in the back of her wardrobe again and put on a pair of shorts that were once trousers for Bill when he was small enough to fit in them and one of Percy’s old boring shirts. She dug around in a drawer and found one of her mother’s old bandannas that was clean which was saved just for dirty jobs like this and headed back downstairs.
In the living room her father was reading the Daily Prophet which meant the mail had come. Errol came back empty from Harry’s, again, but Hermes had another secret reply for Percy, who immediately took his owl back upstairs, much to Hermes’s displeasure. The only other owl was this morning’s paper.
A little downhearted but not too surprised, Ginny went to the fireplace. Her father temporarily disconnected it from the Floo Network so that she wouldn’t be accidentally interrupted by anyone who might come through while she was standing inside it for the next few hours. Not that anyone ever came by usually. Occasionally the wizards who lived nearby popped in, or just their heads sometimes, magically through the fire, but most people Apparated into the Burrow’s designated field a little ways away from the house and then walked up to knock on the door.
Brushing soot and ashes from the grate and heaving it out onto the floor made the already tired muscles in Ginny’s stomach and arms shake, but she managed it. She pulled her bandana over her face up to her eyes and proceeded to brush the ashes into a bucket, one dustpan at a time. Her mother kept the ashes, using it in the garden in some places, making a harsh soap for cleaning by mixing it with water and boiled with animal fat and salt; some of it she sprinkled in the pond outside to keep away algae, and it was also used to polish the little bit of silver they owned when made into a paste with water. After that was all collected, Ginny began scrubbing the soot off the stones making up the walls inside and out, as high as she could reach. This part took the longest, and she whiled away the rest of the morning and into mid-afternoon before she was nearly finished.
While Ginny was working, Ron popped downstairs with a letter in his hand.
–Is that another letter for Harry Potter?†Ginny called from inside the hearth.
–No, this one is to Hermione. I want to know if she’s heard back from Harry yet either,†Ron said. Ron headed over to the owl perch, an area where Errol usually sat. It was big area with a wide window to fly in and out of, spelled to keep the bugs, heat, and cold out. Hermes preferred to stay there because there were more posts and poles to walk along and roost on. The owl perch used to be really small and it didn’t used to have a window, and Errol never minded that, but Charlie, ever the animal lover, added onto it every summer he came home from school until he left for Romania, and it was probably intricate enough now to for twelve owls to roost comfortably.
Hermes, technically an adult but still a young owl, loved to wander up and down the poles as he stretched his wings. Percy’s room just had a single perch, with barely enough room for Hermes to turn around on, so Ginny could see why he acted disgruntled whenever Percy carried him upstairs. Mum once thought that the owl perch took up too much space, that two owls didn’t need half the living room; even when Bill or Charlie visited and their owls were here, they didn’t justify the square yardage. Her mum had told her dad to tear some of it down when all the boys were at school last year, but her dad had simply magically expanded the living room walls, inside and out so it was permanent, to accommodate Charlie’s carpentry.
–You shouldn’t send Errol on another long trip like that. He just got back from Surrey. Hermes came back this morning; I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, and for him it would probably be just a day trip. See if Percy will let you borrow him,†Ginny suggested.
Ron looked at Errol, asleep slumped against a wall, so tired he couldn’t even hold himself up. –Useless,†Ron muttered and sat down on the couch, –I already tried to use Hermes, Percy left him alone in his room to use the bathroom and I went in and started tying my letter to his leg. The stupid bird didn’t leave though. Percy came in and hollered at me for trying to ‘steal’ him. He took my letter off Hermes and tossed it back at me, saying he already told Hermes that he was nearly done with his next letter and that Hermes would be leaving again with it later after Percy polished it up. When I asked why Hermes couldn’t take both letters he got all mad and said something about Hermione getting his letter and reading it before Hermes left with it to wherever that one goes. I told him that Hermione would never do that, but his face got all red and he slammed his door in my mine.â€
Ginny made a face at her brother from within the hearth much like Percy did before pointing out something obvious. –If Hermes is so loyal that he wouldn’t leave because Percy already had a job for him to do, he certainly wouldn’t let Hermione or anyone else read a letter that didn’t belong to them.â€
Ron considered this for a few seconds, then stood up. –You are absolutely right.†And he walked back upstairs with his letter.
Sometime later, Ginny was outside with the grate pouring water onto it with a sponge. She repeated this over and over to rinse the soot off better than when she had brushed it off earlier before finally scrubbing it clean. All of a sudden, she heard shouting drift down from upstairs. Apparently, Percy’s letters were so important to him that it didn’t matter how much he trusted Hermes to protect them, he wasn’t letting him make any unnecessary stops, period.
When Ron shouted for their mum to interfere, Molly simply told him that Percy earned his owl by becoming a school prefect and could do with him as he pleased; Errol would be awake soon enough and Ron could use him then. Fuming, Ron threw his arms into the air and stomped all the way back up to his room and slammed the door shut, yelling about how nothing he ever did was important and that everything he ever got to have or use was always rubbish.
When Ginny came back inside with the grate, she heaved it back into the clean fireplace and wiped down the living room floor where they ash bucket had sat earlier and where the grate had rested. She even added the finishing touch of putting fresh firewood into the hearth, ready to go, and swept up the bits and pieces that fell off the chopped wood as she put them into the grate. Everything looked picture perfect when she’d finished.
Afterwards Ginny herself was a mess. Her clothes were dirty, her hands were black and gray, her nails were black underneath, she could feel her face smeared with soot, and her ponytail was falling out and hanging lopsided. All she wanted to do was fall down onto the couch and catch her breath but instead Molly entered the room and inspected the fireplace. Pleased, she let Ginny run back upstairs to finally shower, change, and rest.
Ginny Weasley and the Very Secret Diary by RJ Hunt
Story Notes:
My hope is that any reader can read one of my chapters and then pick up Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and read the corresponding chapter and feel as though they are getting the same story from two very different points of view.
This chapter does not have any quotes from the original series, however in future chapters I signify quotes by making them bold face with a superscript that has a reference at the bottom of the chapter. This is simply how I do it on my blog.
Chapter Endnotes: Please note: American Gray Squirrels ARE in the UK. A man brought them to England in the late 1800's and they went to other parts of the UK and continental Europe by the early 1900's.
Also: I personally LOVE hoodies. However, when doing research online for difference in language for clothing, I learned that the term "hoodie" means something completely different. This is why Molly does not prefer her kids to wear them and why Ginny does not call them as such. But I'll let you research all that on your own!