Ginny Weasley
and
The Seventh Year At Hogwarts

During the second week of December Madam Hooch told everyone in Gryffindor House that anyone who planned to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays would have to sign up saying so. Ginny was glad that she wouldn't be staying this year. Although there wouldn't be more than one or two Slytherins she had another good reason to want to get away from the school. Aside from the usual reason that Harry was going to be at The Burrow on his own Christmas break. Since about the time of the Hallowe'en party she had become increasing convinced that she was being watched.

By a rat.

She had first become really aware of the rat when Sasha Werback had screamed. Ginny had seen it here and there, mostly during meals when it would be stealing crackers from the table or perched on someone's chair and nibbling some crust of bread rescued from the floor. But as with everyone else, she had paid it no heed; assuming it was someone's familiar, even though none of the three students, even the one in Griffyindor, who had a rat sat near her and her own group of friends. What really aroused her curiosity about it was when she saw it jump from Toby Finnigan to Professor Lupin and then climb to his shoulder. Finnigan had been dancing awkwardly with a girl from Hufflepuff, both of them looking very uncomfortable, and Lupin and Madam Hooch had been coaching the pair. But she and Harry had been swinging around the two couples and she saw the rat start the jump out of the corner of her eye. And then it was on Professor Lupin's shoulder, but it seemed to be watching her. And when they moved even further away she had lost sight of it.

And then suddenly, almost right in her ear, Sasha had started screaming hysterically. "IIIIIEEEEEEE! Get it off! Get if off! Get away you nasty little dirty stinking thing!" she'd screamed, slapping at the rat clinging to her sleeve.

She had knocked the rat off her arm and to the floor and then backpedaled away from it, pushing people back without realizing it until there was a small clear circle with her on one side and the stunned rat on the other and Ginny about halfway between them. "Sasha!" Ginny had cried. "What have you done?! That's somebody's familiar!" She swooped down to scoop it up in her hands as if she were a guardian angel.

"I don't care!" she screamed back. "It's an ugly hideous beast and I won't have it on me! Whose ever it is come and get it away from me!"

But no one had stepped forward to claim the beast, now quivering in Ginny's hands.

"Well?" she called out. "It's got to belong to somebody! Valerian? Wallace Blair?" But they said their familiars were up in Gryffindor Tower and Ravenclaw Tower, and the third student with a rat familiar wasn't in the hall. "Well for pity's sake! It's got to belong to someone!"

"Unless," Professor Lupin said, "it's a wild rat. Or perhaps another spy?"

Ginny and Harry both froze at that chilling charge. Neither had forgotten that the Weasley family rat, Scabbers, had in reality been a close servant to the Dark Lord himself, and largely instrumental in the death of Harry's parents. The Weasleys had harbored this fugitive, all unwitting, for twelve long years while an innocent patsy of the traitor and murderer had languished in Azkaban prison.

Suddenly Headmistress McGonagall was there. "Do you really think so, Remus? Perhaps we should find out." She pulled her wand from out of her sleeve and twisted it through a complex movement while saying, "Magickum luminiferus." The rat gave a small squeak of desperation and it suddenly began to glow in flickering colours; some of them seemed to form flames. Then the rat suddenly launched itself from Ginny's hand, taking her by surprise, and jumped to the floor. Almost immediately it scampered into the forest of legs and feet, students trying to either dance out of its way or to catch it with their hands. For several moments there was pandemonium and general hilarity from those who thought all this fuss over a lost familiar was positively ludicrous. Then the rat made it to the wall and scampered up a house banner.

Harry pointed his wand at the rat and commanded, "Stupefy!" But just as he did so the rat itself disappeared and the spell was spent uselessly against the banner and the stones of the wall.

There was another spate of pandemonium from the people between him and the wall, but McGonagall brought it to an abrupt end. "All right! All right! Don't get your bloomers in a knot! He didn't hit any of you, did he? Step aside, now!" she ordered them as she bustled toward the wall. She looked up to where the rat had disappeared. "Hmph! There's a hole up there big enough to put a hippogriff through. No telling where it'll be by now. Well, Remus, what did you think?"

"Nothing obviously having to do with the Dark Arts, though that doesn't mean much. It could have been enchanted by anyone. Certainly it wasn't a transfiguration, so it couldn't have been another animagus."

"Just what I was thinking. I wonder about those filaments, though. I seem to remember that means there is some kind of linking enchantment. Something like the Imperius Curse?"

"Perhaps, but the aura of that curse is very confusing to look at; like watching a spinning spiral pattern done in smoky grays. I'll have to study up on the colours to learn more."

The next time Ginny had become aware of it was in mid-November. Christy had approached her early at breakfast one morning and asked her if she'd go down with them to the small cabin by the lake. "Hagrid's cabin?" she'd asked.

"No, Professor Lupin's. Who's Hagrid?"

"Oh, . . . he was our groundskeeper. Up until last year. Why do you want to go down to Professor Lupin's cabin for? Why not wait to see him in class?"

"Uh, . . . well, last night was the first night of the full moon and he told me one time that it is very exhausting undergoing his change and he is usually too tired to even eat anything for breakfast and I thought he might like it if we brought him something so we're going to bring a plate of stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, that's a great idea. Lets grab a plate or two and fill them up. Sasha, why don't you wrap a few of those croissants in a napkin and Toby you grab some slices of toast. Celeste -- "

"Hey! Ginny!" Colin protested. "Leave some for the rest of us, too!"

Ginny stuck out her tongue at him. "Please! There's plenty left for the rest of you and if you find yourself short you can beg some extra from Hufflepuff. Just tell them you've got a hollow leg. C'mon, guys, let's go."

Although the sun shone brightly and the day promised to be mild, the weather had turned cold overnight, and the grass crunched underfoot. "Aaaaaiiiiieeeeeee!" Ginny shrieked, when the frigid hair crept through her light top. "We'd better run for it or this will all be frozen solid by the time we get there! Not to mention us!" They hurried down the sloping field toward the lake and the cabin near it. When they got there Celeste pounded desperately on the door.

"Puh-puh-Professor! Open up! P-p-p-please! It's freezing out here!" There was a sound from inside and in a moment the door opened. Lupin looked out at them, a haunted, tired look in his eyes.

"What are you lot doing here?" he asked.

Celeste pushed her way past him, never thinking about how rude it might be, and everyone except Ginny just followed her right in, teeth chattering.

"Sorry, Professor," Ginny said tensely through a shuddering jaw. "They thought you might like a spot of breakfast and asked me to show them the way but we d-d-d-d-didn't count on it being so cold."

He smiled. "Well, come on in, then. No sense wasting the heat from the fire." She rushed inside and he closed the door behind her. He looked at the mounds of food and smiled more widely. "Good heaven's above! You've brought enough for an army!" Ginny looked at the napkins being unwrapped. Six croissants, eight slices of toast, three English muffins, an entire pot of gooseberry jam and a three quarter pot of boysenberry, two grapefruit halves, six sausages, and enough scrambled eggs for three people. Toby set a full pot of tea on the table to complete the inventory. "Well, there's nothing for it, you'll just have to join me."

"Sorry, Professor," Vivian said, taking a teacup from her pocket. "We thought that maybe your . . . uh . . . transfiguration? . . . "

He nodded. "Transfiguration is one way of putting it."

"Oh, good!" she gushed, relieved. "Anyway, we thought it might make you hungrier than usual."

He laughed. "Well, I might have been able to eat this much last night, but I don't think a wolf would be much interested in toast and gooseberry jam. Fortunately, with the light of day I become much more sophisticated and able to enjoy such noble pursuits as partaking of gustatory delights! Let's dig in, then, shall we?"

During breakfast Toby asked, "Uhm, . . . Professor? Can I ask you a question about, . . . well, . . . you know."

"I don't mind personal questions at all, Toby, so long as they are part of the path to learning and not about nosiness. But if you want to ask you should do it firmly, not timidly. Although discretion is called for, dancing around the subject at hand is not. So, care to try again?"

"Uh -- May I ask you about your transfiguration at the full moon?"

"Yes, of course," Lupin answered, and smiled.

"Well, some people say it's too dangerous, having were-creatures at Hogwarts. But Headmistress says you and she have taken . . . pree-caw-shuns?"

"Yes, we have. For one thing, I'm down here in the groundkeeper's cabin, which means that I'm not in contact with the students at all during the night. Plus, we've put some rather interesting enchantments on the door. On the nights of the full moon it will not open at all to anyone except me, and only if I am trying to get inside. So once I'm in for the evening I'm basically locked in."

Vivian jumped in. "But don't you have to see the full moon to change? Don't you have to be where its light can fall on you? If you're inside you can just pull the curtains across the windows and stay human!"

"No, I transform when the full moon rises even if I can't see it, but -- "

There was a long pause as everyone looked at the professor. He seemed to be trying to organize his thoughts, but there was a look as of dull pain in his eyes. Vivian finally broke the silence. "You don't mean that you would look out anyway! And change?! But . . . why?!"

"Ah, well," he said, smiling sadly. "I do so like the view out my cottage windows. Especially when the moon is in the right position and it makes this long silver path across the lake. I just . . . like the outdoors.

"Besides, being a werewolf is part and parcel of who I am. It's not going to stop or go away and I can't run from it. Mind you, I don't have to like it, but it is most counter-productive to fear and loathe it. Since my lycanthrope is so much a part and parcel of who I am I would only end up fearing and loathing myself, you see."

After the last few crumbs were swept off the table and into the fire the students picked up the plates and napkins and headed out the door with Professor Lupin, who had given each one a blanket or sweater to wrap around themselves. It was still as sharply cold as it had been when they'd come down, and everyone stood together to bask in the crisp air. For just a moment everything was still and quiet, and that's when Ginny heard the grass rustling almost at her feet. She looked down and there was the rat.

She and the rat looked at each other for just a moment and then she stooped to catch it. It squeaked in fear and jumped between her legs, then scuttled around the children's feet and headed around the cabin. Ginny scrambled around the group and chased after it, yelling at it, "Come back here you sneaking little furball!"

She followed the scampering rat a couple of dozen meters into the woods until it disappeared into a small tangle of branches and twigs partly covered with brown dessicated leaves. She was rummaging around in the small pile when she heard Christy yell, "Ginny! Don't go in there! There's monsters and things!"

"Huh?" She looked up. The first years were looking at her in horror, as if something unspeakable was already coming up from behind her. Professor Lupin just looked amused. She looked back down at the pile of detritus. "Ah!" she exclaimed in disgust, giving it a kick. "Might just as well chase a garden gnome through a haystack."

They had trooped back up to the castle then. On the walk back Lupin told her that the colours of the enchantments he had seen at the Hallowe'en dance were similar to those common to scrying devices.

The next time Ginny had a chance at it was in the Gryffindor common room. Alerted now to its presence, she would sometimes stop and look around at the sound of scuttling from the rafters or the walls. The occasional Slytherin would taunt her with, "What'chya doing, Weasley? Looking for more Death Eater rats? Maybe you ought to get The Famous Harry Potter in here to curse them away and rock you to sleep."

She came down into the common room after doing some homework to join her study group; Colin, Peter, Fiona, Caitlin, and Anastasia. The group was sitting in front of the fireplace chatting seriously about the tests that were coming up, surrounded by large piles of books. She walked around the group to sit on the arm of a chair with Caitlin when she saw a flash of movement on the floor. "There it is!" she exclaimed, pulling out her wand, but it spun around and disappeared into the wall. "Arrrggghhh!" she growled in frustration, stooping down to the hole. "You're not getting away from me this time, blast you! I'll burn you out if I have to! Incen -- "

"Ginny!" Fiona screamed and grabbed her wrist to stop the wand movement. "Have you lost your mind?! You can't use a spell like that! You'll burn us all out of house and home!"

"Gerroff!" she snarled, coming up off her knees. "I'm sick and tired of that little sneak watching me all the time and I'm going to get him whatever it takes! You have any idea what it's like to try studying for NEWTs with a Death Eater looking over your shoulder all the time? I'm going to get him and I don't care -- " The words died in her throat as she saw the Head of House across the room; hands on hips and pinning her with a level stare. "Uh, . . . Madam Hooch."

"Still troubled by that creature, are you, Ms. Weasley? Well, I sympathize and all but I for one would really rather you not burn down all of Hogwarts to get one rat."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very good. Now then, everyone. Two weeks until Christmas and we need to know which of you are staying over the holidays. Anyone not going will sign up saying so. Those who are staying will probably have a lively time learning what your teachers are like when they let their hair down. Any questions?"

Monty Smythe, a first year, hissed, "Psst! Ginny! There it is!" He was pointing to a rafter. The rat was looking down at them, but mostly at Ginny.

"Ha!" said Madam Hooch. "You're a bold one aren't you? Feeling adventurous enough to stir from the walls but still sticking close to safety, eh? Well, I'll just show you how I handle your sort."

She spread her arms straight out from her sides and seemed to tense up and then she transfigured into her animagus form. In a heartbeat she became a huge, most magnificent bird with a wingspread longer than Creevy was tall, a great hooked beak, and talons like great curved needles. Every student's eyes bulged and their mouths gaped and then the shriek of the hunting raptor burst into the common room and filled it to overflowing with a mixture of one part rage and one part hunger.

Had anyone still being watching the rat it would have seemed to have disapparated so quickly did it disappear, but half the students were stumbling over themselves and each other to escape up the stairs to their rooms and the rest had backed up against the walls, staring fixedly and incredulously at the avian.

"There," said Madam Hooch a moment later. "I guess that'll fill his nightmares for more than a few days. See you all shortly at supper then, shall we?" she said on her way out of the room.

"What was that?!" Fiona asked.

"Aquila Chrysaestos!" Wolfe said.

Monty Smythe, who was still backed up against the wall, his teeth chattering, squeaked, "A d-d-d-d-dragon?"

"A Golden Eagle! Did you see that plumage?"

"D-d-d-did you see those claws?"

"Did the see the look in those eyes?"

"D-d-d-did you see that beak?"

"Magnificent! What a specimen!"

It took them ten minutes to convince poor Monty that it really hadn't wanted to pick him up and fly off out the window to eat him.

But Ginny didn't see the rat for three days after that.

The next morning after breakfast Ginny and her group were leaving the Grand Hall when Madam Hooch passed near them. Peter called out to her, "Madam Hooch! When did you learn to be an animagus? I've been studying up on them and there aren't that many and it's a difficult transfiguration to learn. I can't even make any sense out of that beginner's book Ginny has."

She fixed him with a steady gaze. "I learned how to do that just this summer past, Mr. Wolfe. Headmistress McGonagall was kind enough to tutor me."

"What?" Colin said. "You took school during the summer?"

"Only an addle-pated cove ever stops learning, Mr. Creevy. If you want to keep on top of things and especially if you want to learn more about yourself never pass up the opportunity to learn something new."

"But, Madam Hooch," Peter asked, "why is it so difficult?" Ginny listened closely.

"Well, Mr. Wolfe, there's a wizard in Egypt who has some very interesting opinions on that. His name is Spuq ben Jamin. He wrote an essay on the topic for the ministry one time. He thinks that the animagus transfiguration is exceedingly difficult for three reasons. In young wizards and witches such as you lot, there is some kind of a mental block that keeps one from transforming because young people frequently want to run away or escape what they are, but he thinks the mind realizes that and won't trigger the transfiguration because the young wizard might not be able to get back. That's always a risk with magic, you know. That you might not be able to undo it.

"In the case of adults, he thinks the transformations are so difficult because we are mostly comfortable with who we are and don't really want to become something different, something alien to what we are."

"Well how do you manage it then?"

"Ah, well! The student must want something above all else and he or she must know what it is they want. That is the third factor Spuq ben Jamin covered in his essay. Most people don't really know themselves well enough to know what they really want. And that is part of the animagus form into which you transfigure. It is very clearly linked to your most powerful but often secret desires."

"Oh!" Ginny said. "That's why that Rita Skeeter women became an insect! So she could more easily creep around and snoop on people!"

"No doubt. In my case, . . . well, . . . I've always loved flying. I'd have made a good Keeper or Seeker but I loved the aerial acrobatics so much I was a Chaser instead. So this summer when Headmistress McGonagall asked me what I'd like to be more than anything besides myself I realized I wanted to be able to slip the surly bonds of Earth on my own. The next thing I knew I was this huge eagle."

"So," Peter said, "how would we go about learning how to be an animagus ourselves?"

"As an old Greek philospher once admonished, Mr. Wolfe, 'Know thyself'. First so the transfiguration will be possible at all, and secondly so you can figure out what your animagus form is."

And a few days later the snow started. It was about the right time of the season for it to start but for seventh years exasperated from studying for NEWTs it couldn't have happened at a better time. When class ended that day they all charged off to their houses and then out again wrapped in winter robes. Within ten minutes the grounds were filled with giddy near-adults making snow angels and playing snow-bludgers. Six Hufflepuffs easily made the best snow angel; a grand creation standing twelve feet tall with wings extending another six feet higher, beautifully proportioned and with exquisite detail in the muscling, eyelashes and eyebrows, and hair. The Slytherins made one less detailed but two feet taller, except they hurried the job and one wing fell off. In a fit of jealousy, one Slytherin "accidentally" sent a snow-bludger hurtling at the Hufflepuff angel, but it simply zipped right through the wing it had targetted leaving behind a neat hole that was easily patched up. When he made another snowball to use as a bludger he suddenly found himself being pelted from all directions by almost two dozen speeding snowballs.

Ginny, Fiona, and Anastasia made a christmas tree of snow eight feet tall and decorated with icicles in the shape of huge snowflakes and enchanted with coloured light spells.

Some of the Ravenclaw graduating class -- a half a dozen wizards and witches -- was rollling a snowball, trying to make one so huge that Professor Lupin wouldn't be able to levitate it. It was an attempt to beat a record that had been set a couple of hundred years before and which record might only have been a fireside story. The team came to the end of one track and repositioned themselves, then waved their wands to push the ball in the new direction.

Supper that night was a boisterous affair punctuated by gay laughter and high spirits. And rat-free chairs. Though Ginny had no doubt it was watching her from safely inside the walls. The Ravenclaw seventh-years had issued their challenge to Professor Lupin just before supper began.

When supper was finished Christy and Sasha hurried past Ginny. "Ginny," Christy called. "Are you coming to see Professor Lupin put those Ravenclaw show offs in their place?"

"Oh, . . . well, sure!"

The entrance was a complete bedlam, however. "Oh!" Sasha whined. "How are we ever going to find our cloaks like this?"

"Allow me," Colin said. "Accio Sasha Warbeck's robe. Accio Christy Sarasota's robe. Accio Ginny Weasley's robe. Accio Colin Creevy's robe." Two robes tore themselves out of the hands of students on their way out the doors, and they complained heatedly until Colin pointed out that they could have called theirs the same way.

The huge snowball, twice the height of a man, had ended up down by the lake and it looked as if every student in the school had trooped down to watch Remus succeed or fail. He rubbed his chin for a moment, sizing up "the beast" as Ravenclaw had come to call it. Then he pulled out his wand and tapped it idly against his leg while still looking it over. "Hmmmm, . . . three meters in diameter. Just get it up off the ground, do I?"

"Well not just! You've got to move it too. Too, uh, show that you have control of it."

"Move it how far?"

"Into the lake?" "Yeah! But far enough out that we won't get wet from the splash!" "Yeah! That's good!"

Lupin nodded his head, smiling grimly. "All right. That sounds fair. I'll need to concentrate so I'd like some silence, if you don't mind." There was a couple of minutes of shushing and then shushing the shushers before the crowd fell quiet, watching tensely.

Lupin set himself as if he was going to lean into the ball and shove it into the lake with his bare hands, then he flicked his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted mightily, and strained as if trying to lift the mass. For several moments nothing seemed to happen, but then the ball groaned as it had on occasion while it was being rolled. The professor strained even more and in another few seconds it groaned again. Then it shifted. A gasp when through the crowd along with a few yips of excitement.

"Come on," someone near Ginny muttered. "Move! -- you bloody sod! -- move!"

It shifted again and the watchers gasped again. Then it moved. Ever so slightly upwards, but it definitely moved, and the crowd burst into cheers and shouts of encouragement. The ball moved smoothly upwards a half a meter and even the Ravenclaw seventh-years standing by the water were cheering madly. Then it began to slide sideways and upwards a little higher and then some more, and then suddenly it was out over the water and the cheers got louder, and in several more moments it was over five meters high in the air and well out over the lake -- and then the ball just suddenly fell straight down and a huge wave of water splashed outward and a plume of it jetted upward and total pandemonium broke out.

"Brilliant!" a Ravenclaw shouted, pounding Professor Lupin on the back vigourously. "Bloody brilliant! How'd you do it?"

Professor Lupin straightened up, looking as if he had shifted the deadweight by hand, and smiled. "You never really know what you can do until you do it, my lad. To be perfectly honest, I had no idea that I could do that at all."

The excitement of the event swept the whole couple of hundred students who had turned out back up the hill toward the castle. Ginny noticed with some amusement that all of the girls were chattering about the professor while the boys were talking about what he had done. She also noticed that Christy seemed to be especially starry eyed.

And then it was the start of vacation and they were all on the platform at the station and the euphoria of the snow fall and the challenge carried them onto the train and filled the small compartments with laughter and playful teasing among friends. Even Jeanathan Sarasota walked past Ginny without saying a word, though the Gryffindors didn't get off so lucky when Syrene O'Hallaran walked by.

Syrene sneered at the group and said through the open door, "So, Weasley, I guess your father will be able to buy more than a lump of coal this year since he only has his baby-girl at home to feed. And what is the name of that quaint little nowhere you live? The Burro?" she asked, then brayed. "At Utterly Sick Catchphrase?" She laughed wickedly as she continued on her way.

Fiona said loudly, "I'm thinking of a word for Syrene that describes her but only sounds like witch!" Even Ginny laughed, her spirits undampened.

At platform 9 3/4 she pushed her cart toward the passage to the outer platforms and saw Jeanathan slouching dejectedly. Her mother said the other girl, "For heaven's sake, Jeanathan, straighten up! What would your great-aunt say if she saw you like this? She'd take her name back."

For a moment she felt sorry for the Slytherin, and then the wall was right in front of her and she smiled at the gatekeeper as he waved her through. She angled off to the left as if she was simply changing platforms here in the outer world and saw her mother. "Ginny, dear! You're here again!" Molly called, opening her arms wide. They hugged each other in genuine warmth.

"Hi, Mum. Are you here all alone? I'd've thought Harry would be here since he only has to come through from Diagon Alley, doesn't he?"

"Oh! -- that boy! I don't know just what he's up to! Your father came home three weeks ago in an absolute rage over something stupid he'd done. I never did find out just what, although," she leaned in conspiratorially and quieted her voice to a whisper, "I did hear the name Pettigrew mentioned once."

A chill ran up Ginny's spine and she looked around. Then, curious, she looked around again. She had the distinct feeling that she was being watched from one particular direction, but there was nothing in that direction but a newsstand. The newsy was bending over a bundle of papers, his back to her, but a man was walking in their direction while looking into a newspaper. The feeling continued all the way to the parking lot. The man with the paper turned out to be their driver.

Outside Ginny looked at the car that had been laid on. "A ministry car?"

"Yes, dear," Molly replied as the driver opened a door for them, looking all around as if expecting trouble. They got into the car and closed the door firmly, then went around to the boot. Molly settled herself into the seat and continued, "He won't say so, of course, you know your father, but he is very worried about something. Positively distracted he is. He told me that I am absolutely not to set foot outside The Burrow without a bundle of ministry wizards around me. I've been very fidgety about all this myself. I don't know if it's only nerves or if we're all going to wake up some morning and find ourselves murdered in our beds."

"Mum! You can't be serious! Has anything else happened?"

"No, but then I'd like to see them try. Your father came home with some very strange looking man six weeks ago? . . . " She leaned in close again after checking to make sure the driver was properly occupied with putting Ginny's trunk in the boot. "An auror," she whispered, "from the looks of him, and he put a ward around the whole place that is supposed to cause a Portkey to release all of its magic at once when it's activated inside the ward. Like an explosion. We're all forbidden to talk about it at all and I'm sure there's other things were put in too."

The driver slammed the lid of the boot and came around the car. On the drive home Molly kept the conversation to safe topics. And Ginny still felt as if she were being watched.

The feeling persisted right up until The Burrow came into view. Ginny checked the clock on the way by as she dragged her stuff to her room. The hands for her father and all of her older brothers were pointing to "Work", but something seemed a little odd about the clock face. Then she realized there were more hands than family members. She looked more closely and realized there were three hands still pointing towards "school", and two of them were new. One with a picture of Hermione and one of Harry. She called into the kitchen where Molly was rattling pots onto the stove. "How come Hermione, Harry, and Ron are at school?"

"They are taking some kind of training, dear. They won't tell me what kind but the clock treats this training as being in school. Same thing I suppose since they are spending all day learning things."

Ginny smiled, looking at the locket-sized picture, thinking that they would soon be together again. For a moment she tried reaching out in an effort to See Harry, but there was no response, so she continued up to her room.

With only moments to go before supper would be on the table the clock chimed and Arthur's hand moved to "Travelling", and then there was another chime and it twirled around to "Home". Then another series of chimes and spinning hands and suddenly the whole clan except Ron, Harry, and Hermione were trooping through the door and greeting each other with loud jokes and then Molly with hugs and kisses and asking what was for supper. Ginny looked at the clock. Three hands were still on "Travelling". Bill, seeming to read her mind, said, "Not to worry, Ginny. They're on their way. They still haven't quite got the hang of apparating so we fixed up a Portkey for them. But, uh, . . . "

"Mum told me. They can't use a Portkey inside the wards."

"No," he said, grinning. "So we fixed it so they can portkey from and to that old byre up on the hill. It's a ten minute walk, though."

The trio made it in six minutes, however, running up to the door, laughing and yelling at each other happily. When they came in Ron and Hermione were holding hands, but Harry blushed a bit when he looked at Ginny, and she felt a bit awkward herself. His greeting was a little stiff until Molly got exasperated with him and clubbed him on the shoulder as if he were one of the twins.

"Oh, for pity's sake, Harry, don't just stand there! Go and give her a hug if you want. It certainly won't embarrass any of the rest of us."

"Yeah, Harry," said George. "Don't be a chump and deprive us of a chance to make fun of you." So Molly rapped him gently on the head with the pot she was holding, making a hollow clonking sound. "Ow! Mum!"

"Well, then, mind your own business."

Not wanting to be teased herself, Ginny went into the living room and Harry followed. Molly watched them kiss for a moment, and then turned away. Stirring her sauce and mashing the potatoes more vigourously than usual.

The next couple of days were spent simply loafing around and doing nothing much of anything, except for Fred and George who said Weasley's Wheezes was doing even better business than the previous Christmas. On the morning of the third day, the family trooped off to Diagon Alley to finish up last minute shopping for gifts. They split up into two groups but the members of those two groups kept quite close together. Molly went with Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny, while Arthur went off with Bill, Charlie and Percy.

What with everyone except Ginny and Molly pulling in a salary, and some of those salaries being a tad handsome for a smaller family, it was promising to be an extravagant Christmas. But the whole family, including Fred and George, was back at the Weasely Wheezes by supper time for the trip back to The Burrow by floo powder. For those who did not yet have their licence to apparate. But Bill and George disapparated first just in case. Then once the untrained went through the fireplace the rest disapparated all together. The shop was temporarily left to the care of one of the clerks hired for the season.

"Well," said Molly, "that was certainly a fun time. Even if we did have to stick together and look over our shoulders the whole time. I'll be blamed if I'm going to let those useless rotters spoil my vacation, though." She put a plate piled high with cold cuts on the table while Hermione conjured a pitcher of cold lemonade and Charlie set the knife to slicing a loaf of bread. Bill brought a jar of deviled eggs and one of pickalill out of the larder.

"Absolutely!" Arthur said. "Even if there are troubles in the wizarding world that doesn't mean we can't set aside our troubles every so often for a little fun. And every problem has a way around it. Just takes time to find it sometimes, that's all." Ginny came back into the kitchen from putting away the gifts she had bought. "How about you, Ginny? Have you had any more troubles at Hogwarts? Harry told me you were a bit lonely there for a while."

"Oh, it's okay, Dad. Just the usual gang of nasty people is all." She told them about Syrene's snide put down of the village and house. "What we really need is a Potions Master. Snape was downright mean but he certainly knew how to brew potions."

"Perhaps you should take that, Molly," Arthur said. "You were always good in potions. Knew that you'd be a good cook because of it. That's why I set my eyes on you, you know!"

"Oh, Arthur Weasley! The very idea! You set your eyes on me from the very first day because of my hair. You know that very well."

"Yes, well, that certainly attracted me to you in the first place but as I came to know you and see all of your other sterling qualities I noticed that no one else in our class came even close to them. Seriously, though, Molly, why not take over Potions? You are a crackerjack cook and you told me one time that's all brewing potions is, really. Besides, it sounds as if some of those students could use a firm motherly hand. And if you can keep a grip on this lot you can certainly guide a bunch of frightened first years and keep the older ones in line."

"Oh, stuff and nonsense. Nobody ever kept you in line. Did you know, Ginny, dear, that your father was very handy at talking me into breaking school rules and sneaking out at night. What he would do was to go on ahead a little ways to make sure the stairways were clear or there was nobody in the corridors around corners. One night I almost got caught by the caretaker. Your father was halfway up a stairway and I was waiting in some shadows when along came Ol' MacDougall with a lantern. He hobbled right past the stairway heading straight for me as if he already knew I was there. Well, all of a sudden I heard this yell and the sound of a body rolling down the stairs and accompanied by the most dreadful language. Ol' MacDougall spun around just in time to see your father spill out of the stairway in a heap. Picked him up and dragged him off to the dungeons, of course, and I was going to follow but he motioned me off behind his back.

"We didn't have it nearly as easy as you lot did, believe you me. The dungeon was well used in those days."

"We know," Ron said. "Filch still misses the screaming."

"Yes, well, your father got three nights detention in the dungeon hanging in chains. I'll tell you it certainly turned my fancy that he'd done it for me. That's when I decided to get my hooks into him no matter what."

"Here now!" Fred protested. "All this running around and you still kept complaining about us doing the same thing?"

Molly glared at him while she put him in his place. "That was different! We were in love. You two are just a couple of troublemakers!"

"Anyway, boys," Arthur interrupted, "the moral of the story is you can capture the woman of your dreams simply by showing her how important she is to you and that you're willing to risk your ownself for her."

"There you go, Ron," George said. "All you have to do to prove yourself to Hermione is throw yourself off the roof. Any other gits causing you heartache, Ginny?"

"Not really," she replied a bit guardedly, "but Madam Hooch learned how to be an animagus this summer. From Professor McGonagall. Her animagus form is a Golden Eagle. The most huge hunting bird there is. She transformed into it once in the common room."

Arthur said, "Is that why that rat wouldn't come out for three -- " He stopped short, suddenly realizing that he was saying something he shouldn't be.

Ginny looked at him quizzically. "How do you know that the rat stayed hidden for three days?"

There was an embarrassed silence as he seemed to be searching for an answer.

"I don't believe it! You sent that rat, didn't you?! Daddy! How could you?! You were the one spying on me for all those weeks and I thought it was a Death Eater!"

"Well, I was worried about you. And I recovered this muggle artifact, a mirror, like the Mirror of Erised, sort of, except this one could be linked to a familiar so you could see what it was watching, so I bought a familiar and linked it to the mirror and let it sniff around in your room so it would know who you were and then I simply dropped it off at Hogwarts. I just wanted to make sure you weren't wandering off, . . . you know. . . . "

"But you did it with the ministry driver, too! My own father spying on me! Even in the middle of my private moments! You are such an utterly utter!" she slammed down her fork and bolted from the room. There was the sound of her feet pounding up the stairs.

Molly turned to Arthur. "Arthur Weasley, how could you -- " A door slammed upstairs. " -- do something so reprehensible? Spying on your own daughter like that!"

"I wasn't syping on her! I was spying on any Death Eaters that might have tried to kidnap her!"

"Uh! You men! Well, I was planning on having a heart to heart talk with her. I guess this is as good a time as any for it," she said, getting up from the table. "Mind you boys clean up the kitchen before you go down to the orchard for any Quidditch."

Up in her room Ginny lay on the bed, her face buried in a pillow, quietly sobbing out all of the frustrations from the past few weeks. There came a tapping at the door and her mother's voice. "Ginny, dear? May I come in. I need to talk to you. About womanly things."

Ginny sat up, remembering that first letter she'd gotten at the start of the year. "Come in," she said, wiping her eyes.

The door opened and Molly regarded her for a moment before stepping in. "Are you all right? He didn't mean any harm, really. He was just worried about you. That's all."

Ginny nodded. "I know. It's just --

"Everything that's been going on since starting with The Last Battle."

"Ah, yes. Well, . . . that's what I'd like to talk about the most." She sat next to Ginny on the bed. "You and Harry are lovers, aren't you?" Ginny looked up, surprised. "A mother can tell, dear. It's the way he holds you in his arms and the way you lift your head to kiss him. Uh. I don't mind. Too much. But, well, a mother never really stops thinking of her children as children even when they have children of their own, you see. It's just that, well, what with this being your last year at Hogwarts and those NEWTs coming up and all, this would be a very bad time to do anything silly, you see."

"Oh, Mum. We aren't going to run away to get married or anything. We haven't even talked about anything like that. We both know I need to finish school first."

"Yes, well, babies don't always wait, you see," she said a bit nervously. "Sometimes they take you by surprise." Ginny stiffened imperceptibly. "And a lot of women get all flighty and dreamy from carrying, you know. Makes it hard to study.

"Don't get me wrong, now. Making a baby is a wonderful thing for all the inconvenience. At the end of the throwing up and the swollen ankles and the sore back and feeling as big as a blimp you've got this squirming little bundle of life in your arms and it's just such a wondrous little miracle," she continued, not looking at Ginny, and not seeing the tear making its way down her cheek.

"And then when they grow up on you and start walking and skinning their knees and they start talking and saying 'I love you, Mummy', and it just makes your heart sing and -- " She stopped at the sound of a sob and looked at her daughter. "Ginny? Good heavens, girl! Why the tears?"

"Oh, Mum!" Ginny wailed, and leaned against her mother, now crying openly. Molly took the girl in her arms and gently rocked her.

"Well, then, what's wrong, dear. What have I said to upset you so? Is it you and Harry?"

"No, it's wonderful between us."

"Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Oh, Ginny, don't tell me, . . . are you? . . . "

"No," she said, sobbing. "I'm not. But -- "

"But what, dear?"

"I was." she answered through her tears in a small voice. "I was. And I didn't even know it and now I'm not."

"Oh, my baby! My little girl!" she cried, rocking her some more. "Oh, my own sweet child! But how?"

"I can't. I can't tell you, Mum. You mustn't know. It's too dangerous."

"What? Dangerous? How? Was it Death Eaters? Did they do this to you? So help me if I ever catch any single one of them alive I'll roast him over a slow fire I will."

"Not Death Eaters, Mum. Really. I can't tell you." She hiccupped and sniffled.

"All right then, I won't force you to . . . but, you said since the battle. Great Scott! Ginny! Don't tell me you were mixed up in that?!" Ginny could only nod worlessly, feeling even more miserable. "Oh, girl! What were you thinking?"

Ginny shot upright. "I had to!" she said desperately. "I had to! Or it would have been Harry! He wouldn't have made it if I hadn't been there but I didn't know! And the spell I used was -- it was too strong for people to use, and too strong for the baby. And I was only a month along and I didn't know! I didn't know!" she wailed again.

"The spell you used? What spell? There's not spell I know of that could possibly be too strong for the person using it. What kind of a spell is too strong for the caster?"

"Oh, Mum," she cried, tears flowing freely down her face again. "It was a killing spell. But you can't know about it! You mustn't know, because I'm the one who used it. Not Harry. But everyone thinks it was Harry and he wants it that way so they'll go after him instead of you and the boys, but it was me that destroyed Voldemort but I also destroyed my baby!"

Molly gently pulled Ginny's head down into her lap, hushing the sobbing, shuddering young woman, rocking her slowly as if she were still the wee bairn whose scraped knees Molly had washed and treated with iodine. After a few moments Ginny calmed down enough to tell her mother about The Fynalle Strykke. Molly said nothing for a long time except to coo and gently rock her baby girl.

Finally she sighed. "No, I guess you're right. We can't tell anyone. But I know, and I'll help you to keep this awful secret and to bear this awful burden. You'll never have to do it all by yourself. At least it gives me something useful to do."

Ginny sniffled one last time. "Whud do you mean?" she asked, then blew her nose.

"Well, I've been feeling pretty useless lately. I don't have any children left that need raising. Ever since I realized that you and Harry are lovers and so soon after losing Ron to Hermione I've felt as if I only have grown up children with lives of their own and who only come to visit for holidays and things. Percy has his flat near the Ministry, the others come and go at all hours and sometimes spend nights with their girls, the three other young ones are only here on weekends, and even your father hasn't been home at a regular time once in the last two weeks except for the last day. He told me his department was trying to get ahead of things but I know your father. He's busy making even more muggle artifacts like that flying car of his. And I'm sure he's up to more mischief than that alone. I hardly think the Department of Muggle Artifacts should be chasing Death Eaters the way he did back in September.

"I've just been feeling left out of everything and at loose ends. And here you are feeling so dreadful because you were going to be a mother and now you're not. Perfect pair we are, aren't we? Two largely useless women at the opposite ends of motherhood."

Ginny snorted. "We are not! We're hardly useless even if nobody else knows what we've done! Anyway, if you've got too much time here you can always spend it doing something somewhere. That's what you always told me whenever I complained about being bored."

"Yes," Molly said, nodding grimly. "So I did. Anyway, I can still look out for my babies even if they are all grown up and I mean to keep doing that however I have to."

A bit later, after Ginny came back down stairs feeling better, Arthur drew them all into the living room where a low fire was burning in the grate. He had a number of glasses lined up and brought out a bottle of champagne. "I have an announcement to make to all and sundry," he said, breaking the seal and beginning to unwind the wire. "It's by no means a sure thing, but it is a strong possibility. Mind you, I am up against some pretty stiff competition. And this must be kept absolutely under the rose. Especially by you, my lad," he said, singling out Percy. "Even the ministry staff hasn't heard about this yet and won't for a while, so if I hear anything about any rumours I'll know whom to blame."

"Dad! I'd never reveal ministry business," he sniffed. The irony of his statement seemed to escape him, but Bill and Charlie both laughed as Arthur gave him a sour look and Fred and George rolled their eyes.

"So what is it then, Dad?" Ron asked.

"Well -- harrumph! As you know I've been very busy for the last couple of weeks. I've been ungoing a series of tests to determine my fitness and I'm very happy to say that I have passed them all and that my candidature has been confirmed. You see, Cornelius Fudge is going to announce his retirement in the New Year. Which means the Deputy Minister gets promoted and a new Deputy Minister will have to be selected. And," he finished proudly, "I'm one of the nominees!"

All of the children broke out in loud congratulations, hugging him or shaking his hand as appropriate. This went on for a long minute, and then a firm voice cut through the party atmosphere.

"Arthur!"

"Eh?" He looked Molly with a worried look on his face. "Yes, the love of my life?"

"Who would I talk to about getting that post of Potions Master at Hogwarts?"

"Why, . . . me, I suppose. I can bring home the papers you'll need day after tomorrow and I can put in a good word at the ministry. Not that'll it be necessary. Final say will be up to McGonagall, of course."

"Very well, let's do it."

"You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it, I said so didn't I?"

"Huzzah! Did you hear that boys? Why, we Weasleys will conquer the universe yet, by thunder!" He threw up one arm and stamped his foot for emphasis and the cork in the bottle suddenly popped out explosively and ricocheted off the ceiling and a window pane and then came to rest near the foot of the clock. Arthur blinked owlishly at the head of foam running over his hand and wrist. "Oh? Well, yes, very well then," he said to the bottle, then began pouring the champagne.

With a momentous decision out of the way and the burden of secrets painful and happy shared, the Weasley home was suffused with joy both quiet and loud on Christmas day. True to his word, Arthur popped into the Ministry on Boxing Day and brought home an application to teach at Hogwarts. Then he spent the rest of the week apparating willy-nilly to get it processed in time for the start of the winter term. Molly spent the time frantically studying Hermione's books on recipes for potions under the younger woman's tutelage, and surprising Hermione with how much she remembered. Still, it was easy to see, for those who knew her, how nervous she was when the day came, the second day before taking the Express back to school, for her interview with Headmistress McGonagall. But Ron and Ginny pitched in to save first the toast and then the bacon from burning and to keep the porridge from sticking to the bottom of the pot.

At mid-morning she got ready to go. "Don't worry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said to calm her fretting. "Even if the coach isn't waiting at Hogsmeade it's not that long a walk and the air will help to clear your head."

"Clear it, yes, if the cold doesn't freeze if off entirely," she said, tieing her scarf under her chin. "Where's my hat, for pity sake. I'm standing here with a hat pin in hand and no hat to pin it through."

"It's on your head, Mum," Ron said. "And don't worry about the cold freezing it off. You'd have already lost it this morning if it weren't so firmly attached."

"Oh, very funny," she said, driving the pin through the hat and the scarf underneath it. "You just mind your manners, young man. You're not so big I can't dust your britches with a hairbrush."

She then spent the next two minutes fussing with her purse until Ginny and Hermione gently but firmly reminded her that the time was getting late and she was going to do just fine. Finally she took a deep breath. "Oh, heaven's above! What's she going to think of my presumption after her having to put up with Fred and George all those years? Oh, well, I guess there's nothing for it but to face the music." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and disapparated. The clock chimed and the hand with Molly's picture swung first to "Travelling" and then to "Out".

The four young adults settled in to study and practice spells. Hermione tutoring Ginny for her NEWTs and Ron and Harry having a mock duel. Towards noon they set out a small feast to celebrate Molly's news on her return, but finally ate without her as lunch time ticked past. Ron asked worriedly, "You don't suppose she didn't get it, do you?"

"No," Hermione answered firmly. "I don't suppose that. If she hadn't gotten it then she would have come straight home, wouldn't she have?"

It was mid-afternoon before the clock chimed and there was the sound of someone apparating just outside the door. They bustled into the kitchen in time to see Molly step inside with an enormous load of books and parchments in her arms; which she simply dumped on the table. Then she looked at them and exclaimed, "I got it!"

Harry and Ginny spent most of the next day in a pleasant interlude in the treehouse. He showed her how to conjure wards to keep out the cold wind and then a spell that generated a ball of warmth. Hermione was helping Molly go through all of Snapes's lesson plans and the books on the more esoteric potions such as Veritaserum and Polyjuice Potion. Ron spent the time pretending to study a book on magically hidden writings, but mostly he watched Hermione.

And then that evening after supper Ginny walked up to the byre with them to see them off. There was a slight breeze from the north and the sky was so clear it was sprinkled with the full panoply of the Milky Way and the universe beyond. After a long sweet goodby she walked slowly back to the house, looking up into eternity and simply basking in being a part of it.

The next day a ministry car appeared and when her things were loaded into it the driver whisked her away to the station and the Hogwarts Express. On platform 9 3/4 her ebullience came back to the fore when she saw Fiona and Colin and they were soon joined by Caitlin, Peter, and Anastasia and then the bunch of them got on the train and jammed into a compartment. About a quarter of the way to Hogwarts they got caught up on each other's activities over Christmas and the talk turned to school.

Fiona said, "I wonder if they've found a new Potions Master, yet."

"Yes, they have," Ginny answered, then continued in a sing-song voice, "and I know who it is! I know who it is!"

"Who?"

"But I'm not telling! I'm not telling!"

Colin said, "Oh, Ginny, for the love of Pete! Come on! How on earth are we expected to get good grades in Potions with a bunch of temporary teachers and now some unknown?"

"By studying anyway?" The rest of the group laughed. "I'm not telling because it's a surprise."

They spent several minutes trying to get the secret out of her to no avail. Then Caitlin said, "Oh! I know what I'm going to do. I'm going up to Jeanathan and Syrene's compartment and tell them we know all about the new Potions Master."

Colin said, "I've got dibs on Belarius and his gang of gits!" They both bolted from the compartment, racing each other to be the first to spread the rumour. Fiona said, "I think I'll go and tell everybody else and see what they've been up to." And she followed them, albeit more sedately.

So when the students were sitting at the tables later that evening, looking at the empty chair at the staff table, the Grand Hall was abuzz with speculation about the new Potions Master and the excitement changed to tense expectation when Headmistress McGonagall stood up to make the announcements. "Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, welcome back from your holidays. I am very happy to announce that we have found a new teacher for Potions. And this is no ordinary Potions teacher. The very first thing on which she insisted is that we move the classroom out of the dungeon and into someplace bright and airy. So Potions classes are going to be held in Greenhouse number seven. Also, she was the top of her class in Potions all seven years running and since then has raised a very fine family of her own. A family which is very active in the wizarding world and rather renowned for a great deal of the work they've done. I give you now -- Professor Molly Weasley!"

Molly came out of the wings to the sound of applause, although the sounds coming from most of the Slytherins were of disgust and snickering. "And now," McGonagall said when the noise died down, "let the feast -- begin!"

The next day they had Potions first thing, and the whole of Ginny's gang were feeling rather smug that Jeanathan and her friends were going to be under the supervision of Ginny's mother. "That'll sure put them in their places!" Anastasia crowed.

They got to the greenhouse to find that all the benches of plants had been replaced with tables and bins of ingredients. Jeanathan and her clique was already there and looking none too happy. A few minutes later Molly came bustling into class. "Good morning, everyone!" she called cheerfully on the way to her desk. "Now! I've been reviewing the work you've done so far and with almost half the year gone there's lot of catching up to do. To start, I'm going to try to put things in a proper light to take the drudgery and mystery out of brewing. One thing you've probably never been told over the last seven years is that brewing potions is really just a matter of cooking and anybody can learn how to cook."

Syrene made a rude noise. "Our family doesn't have to learn how to cook. We can afford house elves to do it for us."

Molly looked her in the eyes and said in an even tone of voice. "Well, dear, you certainly can't get a house elf to take your NEWTs for you. Besides which, if you never do anything for yourself but only get others to do it for you you'll end up not knowing how to do anything at all." The younger woman just sneered. "What's your name, dear?" Molly asked in a dangerous tone of voice.

"Syrene O'Hallaran."

Molly stepped closer to her, still staring at her. "Oh, you're that poor girl with the unfortunate speech impediment."

Syrene reacted with indignantion. "What speech impediment?"

"A little problem with enunciation from what I hear." She leaned toward Syrene, placing her hands on her hips and her voice took on that hard edge of a buzzsaw going through a pine knot. "Just so you know it's pronounced Ottery St. Catchpole!"

Ginny ducked her head, smiling and thinking to herself: For a short, plump, kind-faced woman it's remarkable how much she looks like a saber-toothed tiger.

{To be Concluded}