Unofficial Portkey Archive

"To be or not to be a Malfoy"

AN: Hey everyone! Thanks to the sweet reviews from last chapter. I, like many of you probably are, am still reeling from the conclusion of book 6. I can honestly say that it was the best of all the books and my new favorite (PoA is a close 2^nd) . But the ending…oh, gosh. I won't say anything in case you guys haven't finished or gotten it yet, but I cried so much. I felt like a huge dork b/c I didn't think I took the book so seriously, but sure enough…I was a sobbing mess!

And afterwards with all the drama about the ships and blah blah blah…Personally, I considered chucking the idea of D/G after the book, but then I thought: there's still another book isn't there? We've got all the rights to play w/ ships until the end. : ) I don't even mind H/G (gasp!) but D/G is just so much more interesting and makes such great writing, doesn't it? So three cheers for D/G!

Now, onwards with my sequel! I trudged out of my HBP depression to continue this and I even wrote the first chapter of a new D/G fic! It's totally different, set after the war about 10 years later, and I'm really having fun with it. I'll be posting soon so look out for it! I hope you guys enjoy this one!

~Adrial

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"To be or not to be a Malfoy"

Chapter 2: From the Ashes

Author: Adrial

Hearts are worn in these dark ages
You're not alone in this story's pages
Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying
And I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in

We part the veil on Archille's sun
Stray from the straight line on this short run
The more we take, the less we become
A fortune of one that means less for some…

"World on Fire"-Sarah McClachlan

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"Mum! I can't find my bloody quill again! If you see Ron or Harry, tell them that I am sick to death of them knicking my stuff just so they can write more sodding letters to their stupid girlfriends!"

Ginny threw her book bag into a growing heap of spell books, parchment, and random pieces of clothing that was accumulating steadily on her bedroom floor. Growling, she stomped over to the door and threw it open.

"If it doesn't appear within the next five seconds, I'm going to turn your new broom into toothpicks, Ron!"

She huffed when a strangled cry emitted from down the hall, quickly followed by the sound of bounding footsteps. After a moment of struggle behind the door marked "Ronald's Room", a fiery orange head of hair popped out, smoldering over a scowling face.

"What the bloody hell are you going on about at this hour in the morning, Ginny?!"

Ginny frowned and stamped her foot for emphasis, "I've told you to quit taking my things without permission at least a thousand times in the past week, Ron, but NO! You had to go and take my swan feathered quill just for that stupid little project you've been locked up there working on like a maniac!"

At that moment, a double CRACK! sounded and Fred and George Weasley (Local heroes for every mischief-maker from The Burrow to Hogsmeade) appeared in the hall way. They each bore the grin that they reserved for times when they were expecting to witness one of their newest pranks claim their first victims.

"What's all the yelling about, eh?" George licked his lips like a hungry animal, taking in his red-faced sister and oblivious younger brother.

"Just thought we'd say hello…" Fred quickly stalked over to Ginny. He bent over her and tugged her head down roughly, inspecting her auburn tresses like a baboon searching for a particularly juicy tick.

"Argh! Fred! What are you doing?" Ginny struggled. He ignored his sister but after a moment sighed and stood up with a crestfallen expression on his freckled face. He immediately turned on his brother.

"I thought I told you to put the Freaky Follicle potion in their shampoo bottles last night, George! Can't you ever remember to do what I tell you to?!" Fred dropped Ginny's hair and scoffed, "Do you see a polka dot mohawk or squiggling squid dread locks? I DEFINITELY DO NOT!"

George's face instantly reddened to the shade of one of their Dragon Fire Cherry Treats and he pointed a skinny finger in his brother's face.

"I did! Maybe if you had listened to me and changed the recipe like I suggested, then it would have actually worked."

Fred stalked over to his brother until they were nose-to-nose.

"Are you implying that I don't know how to produce a simple hair-changing potion?"

"Only if you are implying that I can't hear-which isn't such a ridiculous notion in the first place when I've got you constantly rattling off that giant mouth of yours in my ears all the time!"

Their fight was interrupted by a jaw-splitting yawn, compliments of Ron. He looked at the two vaguely for a moment before shaking his head.

"Oh, lay off it. None of us have even showered yet."

Frozen in mid-insult, Fred and George's scowls each melted like an ice cream sundae on their faces, leaving a cherry-red hue of embarrassment on their cheeks.

"Right then…" Fred cleared his throat.

George smiled smugly. "Guess we'll be testing our latest creation on Mum then," He stared off wistfully, "I can already hear the screaming."

Fred's eyes lit up at the prospect and they each turned on their heels. Ginny was about to turn her attentions back to her thieving brother when George whirled around and tossed something towards her.

"Oh, Gin. I nearly forgot your quill-borrowed it last night for an idea that couldn't wait to be written down. Hope you didn't miss it."

Ginny stared at her prized quill in her palms and felt her anger leaving her body in rivulets. Her shoulders sagged and she nodded as they disappeared.

Ron had already sulked off to sleep for another twenty or so hours and she turned back into her bedroom.

At her desk, she carefully placed her quill in the valley between the pages of a book she had been trying to read for the past two weeks. It was useless. She could barely concentrate on anything any more.

"Bloody…stupid… imbeciles…" She growled and grumpily dressed herself for the day that was smoldering from outside her window. With a sigh she tramped down the stairs into the kitchen, inhaling the warm and inviting aroma of breakfast with her eyes closed.

"Up with the birds again, are we luv?" Molly Weasley yawned and planted a warm kiss on the top of Ginny's head.

Ginny forced a smile and stood up to help her mother with breakfast. But the sight she met was enough to knock her right off her feet. Instead of the unruly red locks that her mother had sported since her birth, there were now bright, neon purple curls pouring from her scalp like a bubbling cauldron of potion gone awry. With each of her movements, the squirming locks beamed fuchsia and violet from root to tips that sparkled like joke shop diamonds. It was all she could do not to hunt down Fred and George that very instant for torturing their poor mother yet again.

She gripped the counter's edge and tried to think of a gentle way to bring it to her attention.

"Erm…mum…" She began.

Molly hummed merrily as her wand conducted two dozen eggs to waltz into a bowl and begin to scramble themselves.

"Hand me the sugar, Gin, would you?" Molly leaned over their special toaster that held sixteen slices of bread and Ginny instantly slid between her and its aluminum surface.

"Erm...Mum, why don't I make the toast this morning?"

Molly stared at her daughter quizzically for a moment before shrugging and busying herself with the bacon.

"It's so nice to spend a moment with my daughter. I feel as if I've hardly seen a hair of you since you've been home."

"H-hair?" Ginny swallowed and shakily dumped some bread into the toaster.

"Yes, dear…now I know that your OWLS should be arriving any day now, but I'm sure you'll do fine. You've come a long way with your spells this last year-Professor Flitwick wrote me a month or so into the fall to commend your excellent work habits. What a lovely fellow, that Flitwick." She chuckled to herself and nudged Ginny with her wand, "A bit on the slack side in the hair department, don't you think? I must recommend a nice growth potion for him next term. Your father's is working wonders-"

"Mum, mind if I step out for a bit? I-erm…forgot to brush my teeth." Ginny smiled nervously and dashed out of sight before Molly could respond.

Ginny raced up the stairs to Fred and George's old bedroom. All she had to do was follow the extendable ear that started in the kitchen and ended at their bedroom door. Without warning, she barged through and tackled the first twin she saw to the ground. It ended up being George.

"Oy! What's the bloody idea?"

"You horrible little rat! If our mother sees that bloody sea creature living on her head I promise I will kill you before she does!"

"Ah ha! The Purple Pillywog version," Fred nodded with a scholarly air, "Tell us, Gin, was it a bit wiggly? We were going for a more subtle undulation motion, but the damn test went bust at the last minute and-"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Her ears vibrating from the blood curdling scream that shook the windows in Fred and George's room, Ginny forgot about George and stood rapidly. She glowered at them with a disgusted gleam in her eyes, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in deep disgust.

"I hope you two have thoroughly enjoyed yourselves. Now I'm going to go make sure that our poor mother doesn't have a stroke while you two count the money you're going to make off of this stupid joke."

With that, she turned on her heel and bounded back downstairs for damage control.

When she arrived in the kitchen, panting slightly, she soon learned that the horrified squeal had not come from her mother at the discovery of her new sea-weed coif, but from a thin, brown-eyed witch standing stock-still in the doorway.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, though its tone came off as a cross between "Oh, wow, I'm so glad you're here!" and "If you open your trap about my mum's hair, I'll maim you."

Hermione seemed to be too shocked to say much, however, and when she met Ginny's tell-tale eyes, she quickly swallowed and fiddled nervously with the strap of her small suitcase.

"What in Merlin's name is the matter?" Mrs. Weasley was holding the scrambling bowl of eggs against her hip and eyeing Hermione with twin eyes of befuddlement.

Ginny could visibly see Hermione's thoughts flitting over her eyes, trying to find some excuse for her outburst.

"Oh, erm…I…"

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley leaned towards her slightly, allowing the sunlight that streamed in from the open door to illuminate her lavender coils, giving them the likeness of a heap of purple Christmas tinsel.

"Bug. Big one." Hermione uttered and a blush rose to her cheeks at her unintelligent answer. She had read Ginny's mouthed explanation.

Mrs. Weasley turned from Hermione to Ginny slowly, the wheels in her head visibly turning. When Ginny thought for sure that she was going to begin to grill them both, she surprisingly nodded complacently and offered Hermione a sympathetic smile before retreating to her bowl of eggs.

Ginny beckoned Hermione across the threshold.

"Hello, Hermione! Lovely day, isn't it? So glad you made it-I'll explain later." She added the last bit while tugging the confused Hermione through to the den.

"I'm going to get Hermione settled, Mum, be back in a moment!"

Mrs. Weasley nodded from over her steaming pots and pans, failing to realize that Ginny was already half way up the stairs having not waited for a response.

When they were a safe distance from earshot, Ginny let out a moan of frustration.

"Those idiots! Look what they've done to her now! Just last week it was Bubbling Dung Dots in our porridge and she nearly chucked them out then…would have, I bet, if she hadn't needed to them to give us the counter-tricks to get rid of the wretched smelling bubbles that were popping out of our mouths, ears, and noses."

Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. It seemed that even after opening their own successful joke shop, Fred and George still hadn't managed to find other premises to test their frightful concoctions. At least once a week they would show up with a new trick up their sleeves, proud as could be, as if they'd gotten a gold star on a homework assignment and couldn't wait to put it on display for the whole family to see.

"…really out of hand," Hermione was saying as she heaved her travel bag onto the extra twin bed in Ginny's room. "I'm going to march right up there and demand they set your poor mum right before she has a chance to see it."

"Right behind you, Herm."

Upon reaching the twin's old dwellings, they were nearly trampled by Ron and Harry as they bounded down the corridor, broomsticks on their shoulders.

"'lo, Hermione!"

"-Ginny!"

They shoved each other like giddy first years waiting in line for the first quidditch game of their lives and nearly tripped over one another's robes as they tore down the stairs. Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, a look of pure annoyance plastered across her face. And suddenly, as if struck by a thought the size of a hippogriff, Harry screeched to a halt at the second landing.

Ron, not quite in time to stop his building momentum, tripped over his own broom and grabbed hold of Harry's elbow to save himself, however in doing so ripped his threadbare sleeve and ended up tumbling down a flight or two anyway.

Hermione gasped and Ginny smirked at the tell-tale thud of a body landing on solid ground. Harry's voice called, "Don't think you're going to get any leniency out of me just because you've gone and broken your arm!" He then turned around, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I mean to say," He ran back up the steps in two's, stopping at Hermione's feet with a silly smile that seemed to beg for forgiveness, "Hello, Hermione."

Ron's colorful array of pained curses was drowned out by his mother's frantic cries.

"Ronald Weasley! I've told you not to run down those stairs one too many times. You are not five years-"

"BLOODY HELL, MUM! WHAT'S THAT GROWING ON YOUR HEAD?!"

The following events occurred in quite a blur of color, curses, screams, and crying as Mrs. Weasley turned to the large looking glass that hung in the corridor beside the kitchen.

"Oh…my…-AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Ginny growled and turned around to dig out the two perpetrators but need not have even bothered, as two cracking CRACK!s sounded from below. Feeling as if bearing witness to a double murder that early in the day had to be bad luck or something, she turned to Hermione and Harry to see if they wanted to join her in a fast escape. But they were tightly embraced, looking completely disconnected from the chaos going on below them. She felt her chest tighten with a stinging pain and turned quickly on her heel and down the stairs. She was easily able to slip past her mother's red-face and flailing arms and into the back yard.

Ginny fled to the old shed on the far end of the lawn and threw the door open. The walls of the ancient building groaned at the disturbance. She reached in and wrapped her hands around a broom tucked away in the farthest corner. In the bright sunlight, sweat glistened on her forehead as she swung her legs over the hovering broom. The sky jolted for a split second as the it shot off as fast as possible; her back was back bent low over the front end while the wind beat against her face mercilessly. Clouds went by in wispy gray blurs as she escalated and the massive lake behind The Burrow appeared no larger than a puddle as she urged her broom higher.

Soaring on the back of the breeze, Ginny felt her thoughts trail behind her. Breathing became harder, but she welcomed the burning sensation in her lungs and angled her broom towards the familiar pasture that lay ahead. The eerie squawks of geese surrounded her, and she tried to crane her head around to watch them beat their wings beside her. One amber eye caught her own for an instant, staring curiously at the new red-haired bird that shared the sky with it now. Its fellows glided skillfully around it, the perfect V formation Ginny loved to watch from the ground and now flew around in appreciation of its beauty.

As the green fields below drew near, she bent her broom low to prepare to land, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught a fleeting glimpse of silver…Hair? In the second the thought had appeared and disappeared, she was already shaking her head in exasperation.

Alright, I've gone nutters. First I'm flying with geese, now I'm-

But she was forced to stop as her breath caught in her throat. As if bowled over by a large gust of wind, the geese exploded into a fray of feathers and angry squawks. The deafening flap of wings filled Ginny's ears, and she strained to keep her balance as the frantic geese closed in around her in obvious frenzy.

Ginny finally broke free, squinting through the stray feathers that flew around her like snow flakes. The geese scrambled to reunite. And then something slammed hard into her back with the force of a mallet. All her breath left her mouth in an inaudible gasp, and she felt herself slip from her broom. At the last second, she lunged blindly and felt her hand wrap around it again. She could hardly hang on to her bearings and simply dangled from the end of her broom, gasping throatily. Eventually, with a strength she didn't know she possessed, she was able to throw her legs back over the broom and right herself. Her lungs fought to inhale at the high altitude as she steered shakily lower. Off in the distance, the disappearing V glided away, leaving its lone straggler behind.

"Bloody hell…" She coughed, rubbing her chest with the palm of her shaking hand. She had no idea what had happened, what had knocked her off her broom so violently, why the geese had been acting so strangely. Her mind racing, she gritted her teeth and turned to head back to the Burrow.

Her heart was pumping wildly, making it even harder for her weakened lungs to inhale and her head felt fuzzy. She glided below the clouds at a slow pace, passing over thousands of treetops and finally the glistening lake. Tall and welcoming in the distance, the Burrow slowly came into view. By then her mum would have sent Fred and George packing off to Diagon Alley, so things should have been calmed down quite a bit.

Bending low to the ground and prepared to land, Ginny ignored the aching throb of her spine. Ahead, she noticed that the back door had strangely been left open. Didn't they know that garden gnomes could run inside and wreak havoc with the door ajar like that? It flapped squeakily in the cool breeze that had picked up suddenly, blowing her sweaty bangs around her face. She approached it wearily but froze in place upon the threshold.

Lying as if forgotten upon the grass beside the door were two glistening black brooms, their bristles tinged green and each emitting an eerie hum, signaling their recent dismount.

Ginny felt her chest tighten instantly. Without pause for thought, she flew into the house. Something crashed to her left. Pigwidgeon was flapping around the kitchen and squeaking fitfully as it rammed disjointedly into a tea saucer on the table and sent it clattering to the floor.

The only sound was its pitifully flapping wings, and Ginny turned around slowly, ears trained for any voices or movement. She could feel the dark creeping up on her like it had for so many nights in her dreams-like months before on a cold train flanked by an endless path of blue, frigid flames.

"Crucio!"

"Impedimenta!"

The fire of both curses grazed the ends of Ginny's hair as she flew to the floor. The sound of footsteps hurtled towards her. She tried to stand but felt hands wrapping around her waist and heaving her to her feet. Ready to fight, Ginny grunted and tried to free herself.

"Gin! Come on!" Harry's voice filled her ears and she nodded, catching his emerald gaze.

"Harry, what the hell's going on?"

He simply turned and gave her a stare that said now wasn't the time to ask questions. His wand was out and aimed in front of them. Ginny felt her insides coil uncomfortably at the thought of her own wand tucked away safely in her school trunk. In the archway leading to the living room, a pair of legs clad in black lay sprawled out, unmoving. She barely had time to react as the air exploded around them with another curse.

Harry whirled around and threw her to the floor.

"Protego!" He rocked backwards and fell to the floor, but the curse aimed at him bounded away from his shield.

"It seems your reflexes have improved since the last time we had the fortune to meet, Potter." A cold, slithering voice filled the room. Ginny's gaze trailed from two, shiny black shoes up and up, until she gasped in horror at the sight of a familiar pale face, framed by silver hair. Out of cold, grey eyes, Lucius Malfoy looked at the two of them with mocking scorn.

"As have yours, seeing as I presumed to have knocked you to your death mere minutes ago, Weasley." His mouth slid into a menacing scowl at Ginny, and she gritted her teeth.

"It was you I saw…" She uttered, not really hearing herself at all. Harry's hand was wrapped around her forearm, squeezing so hard the blood was having a hard time circulating to her fingers. She wondered with a sickening feeling swirling in her stomach where her family was. Were they safe? Had they managed to escape? Would she find their bodies lying lifeless somewhere in the house? She dared not look around lest she meet such a sight.

"This is between you and me, Lucius. Let her go." Harry's voice had deepened to a tone Ginny had never heard from him before. She shook her head with a jerk but couldn't find the breath to say anything. She wouldn't leave him to fight alone.

Lucius seemed to be considering Harry's request for a moment, his black gloved hand resting thoughtfully on his pointed chin.

"Well, considering the fact that I was sent to do away with every last person in this household, I really don't' see the advantage of letting one go...however," He snarled, wand poised directly between Harry's eyes, "I'd give anything to finish you off and then be on my way-"

"The Dark Lord said only the blood-traitors, Lucius!" A cold, hollow voice came from the kitchen entrance and a sallow faced wizard appeared, shaking off the traces of Harry's spell.

Lucius' head jerked to the side for an instant that Harry used to his full advantage.

"Reducto!" The ceiling above both Death Eaters' heads immediately came crumbling down upon them. Lucius and his companion bent over quickly to avoid being decapitated by the larger pieces. A desk slid through the gaping whole and landed in front of them in a hundred broken pieces.

Ginny felt Harry's arms around her and let him yank her away. He bent over and picked up one of her mother's old scarves that'd been lying around for days on their sofa.

"Hold on, Gin!" As he said this, he pulled her hand towards the scarf and as soon as the itchy, wool fabric touched her skin, she felt her body lurch forward from her navel. The ground rocked heavily around them moments later, and she fell to her knees beside Harry on cracked cement sidewalk.

"H-Harry…" She gasped. Her back had exploded with pain from the blow she'd received from Lucius only a short while before. Harry's arms were pulling her up again, and he quickly thrust a piece of paper into her face.

She read dazedly at the quickly scrawled writing.

The head quarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Why-" But he cut her off by tugging her forward. In front of them, two shabby houses groaned and stretched as a new building squeezed between them. Realization finally dawned on Ginny, and she shook herself to clear her head. Harry lunged for the door handle, but it flew open before he even got close, and they were immediately being pulled into a gaggle of arms and worry-sick faces.

Ginny gasped in pain as someone wrapped their arms around her, squeezing her aching back mercilessly. But when she saw that it was her sobbing mum, she ignored the pain and squeezed back just as desperately.

"I'm fine, Mum, please don't cry…" She rubbed her mother's back slowly. Someone else had joined their huddle, and her father's voice came from close by her ear.

"We thought…well…we had no idea where you'd gone…" His voice broke, and Ginny reached behind to grab him in a hug as well.

"Are they gone? Did you get rid of them? Why didn't you let me stay, I would have helped!" Ron's belligerent voice filled the room. Ginny saw Hermione place a pacifying hand on his shoulder once her mother had released her long enough for her to have a look around. Harry stood, panting, in the middle of the floor, his wand clutched so tight in his fist that his knuckles blinked white. In the other hand, the slip of paper he'd shown her was crumpled and shaking between his fingers.

Ron stopped glaring at Harry and quickly rounded on Ginny who was tucked between their parents.

"And you! Where do you get off running off like that? Nobody knew where the bloody hell you'd gone! We thought-we thought you were dead or something!" His face was red and boiling with fierce emotion. Ginny gulped and felt her temper flare and then dissipate just as quickly. Ron was fighting back tears.

Ginny felt her own eyes sting. She could hardly comprehend what had just happened; thoughts raced like hundreds of evasive little snitches through her mind, maintaining their distance as she groped blindly for them. She leaned against her mother's chest and felt her heart beating strongly. Thump…th-thump…th-thump… She listened to each beat and felt her own heart calm itself. Harry's arms were around Hermione's waist, holding her closely to him as they all watched Ron silently.

"I'm sorry…" She finally managed to choke out. Her mother smoothed the hair that lay limply against her back and shushed her.

"Ronald, please calm down. We're all fine, alright? Ginny…" She paused and inhaled deeply before continuing, "Your sister and all of us are fine. That's all that matters."

Harry spoke suddenly before Ron could. "Are they others-have they gone to the Burrow? Lucius has probably gone by now; I only managed to distract him long enough for us to use the emergency portkey."

Arthur nodded solemnly, "Remus, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Shacklebolt left not a moment before the two of you arrived."

"Let's all sit down, alright? Harry, you look a bit peaky, dear." Mrs. Weasley reached toward him and pulled him against her side, Ginny still on the other. Leading the way, they stepped into the kitchen. For a fleeting moment, Ginny was surprised to fleetingly expect to see Sirius's smiling face from the far end, thrilled and excited for their unannounced company. Her eyes flitted toward Harry, and by the way his mouth was pressed into a thin, nearly invisible line, she assumed he'd felt the same.

"I'll just…just nip into the pantry and see if I can't find a few tea bags or something…" But she seemed to be having a rather difficult time releasing her arms from around Harry and Ginny. Torn, obviously, between letting them go and preparing tea, she remained rooted to the spot.

"I'll get the tea, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione offered and hurried over to the pantry without waiting for a response.

Ron stalked over to the table and threw a chair out before plopping into it.

"Where are Fred and George?" Ginny uttered, accepting the seat her father pulled out for her.

"Diagon Alley-I was here at a meeting with the others and flooed to their shop as soon as your mother arrived to make sure they'd made it there safely."

Ginny's eyes flew to her mum's hair and she sighed gratefully upon seeing the usual mop of red tangles rather than a squirming, hairy sea creature.

"Right….good…" She said absentmindedly. Hermione appeared, coughing up dust from the pantry threshold.

"Nothing but an old case of fire whisky, Mrs. Weasley," She announced. Mrs. Weasley waved it off with her hand, "Oh, no matter. Just let me get my wand…" She dug into the apron she still donned from breakfast and in a matter of moments each of them was cradling a steaming cup of tea, all seated around the table silently. None bothered to touch their drinks, however, and the steam slowly coiled down until the cups felt cool between their fingers.

Hermione and Harry had leaned as close together as possible, their intertwined hands laid openly on the table, nothing like the previous year when they kept their secret carefully hidden beneath the Gryffindor house table, away from Ron's eyes and everyone else's.

"They should be back any moment now," Mr. Weasley said for the fifth time in the last half an hour. But this time his words rang true as the front door squeaked open and shuffling footsteps sounded from the foyer.

Harry leapt to his feet and met Remus at the door as he ambled in, followed closely by the two somber faces of Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. As Ginny took in Shacklebolt's familiar towering frame and ebony skin, she was instantly reminded of Draco's mysterious companion, Eleston, and wondered where he was that moment. Perhaps he'd been allowed to stay with Draco…

"I'm very sorry, Molly…Arthur…" Remus looked brokenly towards the two. Both were wide-eyed and looked slightly baffled.

"What, what is it? Did you catch them?" Arthur asked quickly.

Tonks shook her head and sighed, "No…they were long gone by the time we got there. But…"

"But what?" Molly's voice was high-pitched and she clutched Arthur's hand tightly.

"Ruddy cowards set the whole bloody place on fire!" Mad-Eye bounded into the room, no doubt having been outside, keeping an eye on any suspicious followers.

"Fire?!" Ron leapt to his feet, eyes blazing. "You don't mean-"

"Mad-Eye, could you be any more tactless?" Tonks glared at him reproachfully.

"Look, rookie, this is not the time for dilly-dawdling around the truth. We're in the middle of a damn war, if you haven't noticed!"

"Don't call me a rookie! I've got as much right as you-"

"Fire?!" Molly had jumped to her feet as well, her hands covering her face in horror.

Remus stepped forward, the gravity of the truth weighing ever more upon his weak frame. He placed a hand on both Molly and Arthur's shoulders and nodded heavily.

"When we arrived…the entire place had been set aflame. We're not sure how they broke through the protective shields we had raised against any invasion….There was nothing we-but we managed to track down your owls," He said with a mournful smile, "The jittery little one was none the worse for wear, but I believe Hedwig was returning from her hunt when she attempted to get through the flames to you, Harry. Tonks caught her just before she could get near enough to get hurt. They're just outsi-"

"Our home…" Mrs. Weasley gasped. The reality of the news seemed to be sinking into all of them. Ginny imagined her room melting away to ash, her books exploding into flame, Draco's face curling at the edges in a fiery bed, locked forever inside her journal.

Molly suddenly collapsed against Arthur, her chest wracking with the force of sobs that shook her entire body. Arthur tried to soothe her by wrapping his arms around her quaking body, but he, too, was caught in an agony nearly as tangible as hers.

Ron had sat back down and buried his head in his hands. Hermione and Harry stood at his side, each pressing their hands against his shoulders.

"We managed to stop the fire, however, and…tomorrow we'll send someone out to collect whatever can be salvaged. For now, your family could-"

"You'll all stay here," Harry interjected. "You can have Grimmauld Place."

"Oh," Molly managed to gasp, but her sobs were so forceful that she could only shake her head in defiance of his offer.

"Mrs. Weasley, I beg your pardon, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You'll all live here until…until whenever, alright?"

Arthur bowed his head over his wife's and muttered to Harry his appreciation. Ginny felt her eyes brimming with tears, and sat quietly down beside her brother, curling her arm through his and leaning against his shoulder. This was all a very, very horrible dream… Tomorrow they would wake up in their beds to the bright, humid morning and all walk downstairs, looking dazed at each other, sharing the ridiculous nightmare they'd all coincidentally experienced, laughing about it over breakfast…

That night as she laid in her bed, listening to the soft breathing of Hermione from across the room, Ginny clutched her pillow to face and muffled her quiet sobs. She had kissed both her mother and father goodnight a few hours before, watching them creep solemnly up to their new bedrooms. The following morning they would wait until aurors finished their investigation of the fiery grave where their home now lay to sift through the remains. She could already see the headlines in the Daily Prophet.

Why Lord Voldemort sought to murder pure-blooded family… That would undoubtedly be the opening. But Ginny and everyone asleep in Grimmauld Place knew why Voldemort wanted them dead. One of the last lines of pure bloods, true, but also one of the most blood-traitorous of pure blooded families as well.

Ginny gasped into her pillow, wondering at the thought of nearly losing her family just that morning. What if they hadn't been alerted by the intrusion charms set up around the house and weren't able to Apparate to safety? What if she hadn't been able to hang on to her broom? Lucius had aimed to kill her there while disillusioned and invisible to her-it would have been so easy to say that she'd merely slipped off her broom while flying.

Above her, footsteps creaked as someone walked heavily across the floor. She stilled her breaths, listening for movement. Her parents' bedroom was across the hall, so it must have been one of the Order on watch in the house-she told herself so, at least. A door creaked open slowly and closed. The footsteps stopped for a moment. Ginny let out her held breath and curled deeper into her blankets; Hermione murmured in her sleep, oblivious to the racing heart just five feet away from her.

Whoever it was now pacing across the floor in a rectangle-Ginny listened to the direction of the steps, counting each one, tracing an invisible line with her eyes.

Straight…left…back…right…straight…left…back…right…straight… She chanted the steps in her mind and eventually her eyes drifted closed as the invisible walker lulled her to sleep with the soft padding of their feet across the floor. In the morning, bright sunlight poured over her room, and Ginny's eyes sprang open.

She bolted upright and took in the dreary furnished room and moldy papered walls, completely oblivious as to where she was. Suddenly, the previous day came hurtling back at her, and she fell backward again feeling the dull throb of her back smart in protest. It resonantly thudded with pain, each jab embedding reality into her mind. Along with that reality, she felt a painful twist of guilt.

She knew she'd been weak ever since school had ended for the summer. She'd been emotional, worried, and constantly thinking about Draco and whether he was dead or alive. She should have been with her family the day before when the Death Eaters attacked. If she hadn't been so stupid to run off, they would have found her in her room and had more time to escape. She might have gotten them out faster, maybe giving the Order more time to stop the destruction that once they left.

It's time to get yourself together, Ginny. You're not helping Draco or anyone else in your life by moping around like a stupid little girl. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Today was a new day. Sure, they were homeless, but they had each other didn't they? She thought of what holidays would be like at Grimmauld place and remembered the festivities of Christmas in her fourth year with Sirius' infectious cheer spreading everywhere. Everything would be alright. In September, she would bound onto the Hogwarts Express and see Draco standing there, feigning disgust as she walked past, sneering at her as if he'd love nothing more than to see her run over by the very train they were boarding. Then they would meet later and laugh secretly at their convincing charade, floating with happiness.

That's right, Ginny. It's all going to work out. You've got your family to worry about now. She rolled out of bed and straightened the clothes she'd worn the day before. Downstairs, her mum was leaning over the rickety stove and stirring an enormous pot of steaming porridge. Her shoulders were slumped, and she didn't even hear as Ginny sidled up to her. Slipping her arm around her mum's shoulders, Ginny squeezed and kissed her cheek lightly.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it, Mum?" Smiling, she removed the ladle from Molly's still-stirring hands and shooed her off to the table to sit. Molly eased into her chair with a look of mild shock in her puffy, reddened eyes.

"I'll finish up, Mum, don't worry," She turned and winked at her mother's grateful, yet watery, smile, "I've got it all together now."

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