Waking up after she distinctly remembered jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge was simultaneously both a relief and an annoyance.

An annoyance because it had taken a lot of time and courage to build up the nerve to actually kill herself.

And a relief because half way down, she'd realized she really didn't want to die.

So, understandably, she was slightly disconcerted when she opened her eyes and everything was bright. At first she thought it was heaven, but then she remembered the circumstances of her death and decided that it must me something else.

She thought it was hell when she heard the screaming. It was shrill, almost like a siren. It hurt her ears, and the more annoyed she got, the louder the screaming.

Someone shut that baby up, it's driving me insane.

When she was lifted and placed in the arms of a plump woman with very red hair as if she were nothing, she was confused. And slightly offended.

Oh, seriously? I'm not that short.

The crying stopped immediately, and the woman cooed down at her in an odd accent.

Now she just felt confused.

Why was she being cooed at by an English woman?

She blinked and the woman cooed again, along with another ginger man who was suddenly in her line of vision as well.

She tried to protest when she was passed to him (she was not a sack of potatoes, thank you very much), but all that came out was a gurgle.

Her mind blanked.

She was an infant.

She was the crying baby.

The man spoke up, looking at her lovingly. "Ginevra Molly Weasley. You like that name, huh little Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley.

She was Ginny Weasley?

Are you fucking kidding me?

She wailed.