Not so Far away Future for Ginny Weasley…

It's getting late.

I don't have a sharp sense of time any more but I know it must be after eleven and maybe – maybe getting on for midnight. I'm reluctant to look at my watch, though – because that will only remind me of how little time I have left.

In any case, it's getting late.

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly twelve hours already. In a while, of course, it will be fifteen hours and then twenty and then a whole day. What happened is slowly receding, along all those miles of highway, hurtling backwards through time and space at what feels like an unnaturally rapid pace. But it is also beginning to break up under the immense pressure, beginning to crack and fragment into separate shards of memory – while simultaneously remaining, of course, in some kind of suspended, inescapable present tense, set hard, unbreakable…more real and alive than anything I can see around myself here…

The thought of what happened sets my heart pounding audibly, as if it's panicking in there and will shortly be forcing its way, thrashing and flailing out of my chest. But at least my head hasn't started pounding. That will come; I know, sooner or later- the intense pin-prick behind the eyeballs spreading out in to an excruciating, skull-wide agony. At least it hasn't started. Not yet but it will.

Clearly, though time is running out.

I stared at nothing in particular; there was nothing to stare at. I cannot just sit here and watch. It was useless to think…I had to go back, I have to, I need to go back. Dazed and enmeshed in the web of my thoughts and memory, I stood up, grabbed the car keys, took hold of the basket and sluggishly walked towards the door. My hand reached out for the rusty doorknob when suddenly an electric shock ran through my body ceasing all my thoughts and actions. It came running back to me, more powerful than I imagined…

If I go back – I will die…

____________________________ Chapter 0.1: A Day from Personal Hell

Out of all the days of my short-lived life, Mr. Henry Fridle – my Muggle neighbor chose to die today –

Henry had been killed by a garden gnome – yeah out of all the fake magical creatures a gnome. He had fallen off the roof of his two-story house onto that cheerful looking figure. The gnome was made out of concrete. Henry wasn't. A broken neck, a cracked skull – Mr. Henry perished on impact.

The simple, strange and unusual death by gnome had to occur today – Of all the days and months in the calendar –Today – when my wand snapped into two, of course accidentally, when I had a meeting with a potential client aiming for a divorce. When my three angry best friends were dropping for lunch, which I will be soon adjourning – They were going to strangle me – for sure. Today – when I had to pick up my over-due dry cleaning; go to a grocery store and I was getting LATE! Thanks to the deceased Henry Fridle and his choice to die on sixth of June, I was surely going to suffer its consequences. I already was.

I glared at my wand engine, 'Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Shite wand' I yelled mentally that was all I could do these days – yell mentally. Annoyed, I it in a trash can, cursed out loudly, as I kicked the freaking garbage bin and only managed to hurt my foot. This made me swear even louder. Dead Mr. Henry's relatives stared at me exasperated; I stared back livid and had a strong gutsy feeling to scream at them to take their God forsaken fake sad faces somewhere else! But I kept my mouth shut. I did not need any more reason to ruin my already ruined day. Instead, I focused on taking long, deep, mouthful of air, into my lungs and let it circulate so it can reach my brain and for once make it think straight.

Everything around me was tranquil, birds sitting on the branches calmly, the sky was clear even though it rained last night, Mrs. Todd (another muggle neighbor) was chatting away she beamed up at me and I obliged myself into a forced smile, the wind was soft and cool – everything was normal. Tranquility and peace surrounded me then why the hell was I fuming hotter than an oven.

'Whatever' I told myself. Too much of tranquility and serenity numbs my senses anyway. The sun was blazing down at me and I was glaring at almost everything, I was getting sweating and my heels were killing me. By now, you must have guessed that I lived in the muggle London neighborhood with my parents and my stupid dick for a brother Ron!

I picked up my purse and the files from the floor! Great! Work! WoooHOO! Fuck! My mind mused sarcastically. I had to admit that the way Mr. Henry died was one of the most – weirdly amusing and sidesplitting. I mean, for the love of God - a gnome. I laughed aloud as I walked down the side way. Shaking my head slightly, trying to get rid of the thought - I was being mean. That only made me want to laugh even more.

I had to get to work before The Flick Attorney fired me!! I needed to get a cab down to the freaking telephone both and then floo myself to Diagon Alley. Wondering why I need to use the ministry floo? I'll tell you! The stupid fucking Minister of Magic Harry fucking Potter banned the use of floo service in a Muggle surrounded area. I snorted, so much for bloody security.

I was almost halfway through when I heard a snap and my left foot lost its balance making me stumble. I was going to fall flat on my face when my bloody brain, miraculously worked and I gained my sense of equilibrium back.

"Shit!" I cursed out. "Fuck" As I looked down, my freaking left heel snapped. I screamed out in frustration as loud as I could. Oh – My –God! What the fuck was going on today with me? Shit! Was there some sort of bad omen going around after the gnome killed or what?

I stared at the broken heel – this piece of crap cost me around eighty pounds. I stooped and picked up the damn shoe and threw it across the street. Piece of shite! It landed with a thud outside someone's house. I was scowling staring at the broken heel lying across the street when some one tapped me from behind. I spun around

"What" I yelled at the person's face.

"Here is your ticket, madam." The freaking patrol officer, all in blue and black like every single one of them handed me a ticket. My Muggle Studies kicked in I made up a rational yet such a fake face and replied.

"Oh officer, for what?" I said in a fake sweet voice, I smiled spontaneously as I do with my brooding boss! Shit! I remembered that I was running late!

"For trashing up the street madam, this ticket is for fifty only. I am being lenient with you this time. Please make sure you deposit the money before the given date." He walked across the street and picked up my broken heel. He stared at it and crossed back towards my side.

"Here is your – shoe and have a nice day" I watched him walk away my mouth open. I was suffering from some sort of internal shock. I stared at the bluish paper card. I didn't speak a word; I didn't blink or breathe loudly. Slowly, I made my way back to my house. I was fired for sure by now. This made me even angrier than before. Angrier than the day my best friend Ella forgot my birthday. Fuming than the day, I didn't get my first job. Even angrier when my parents 'accidentally' forgot me at a muggle airport!

On my way back to my house, I assessed – gnomes were not lucky at all- for me. And certainly not for Henry. I turned my doorknob but it won't budge. My paranoid mother must have locked the door. I pressed the damn doorbell as hard as I could and kept on pressing until I heard her rushing footsteps.

"You are back early, dear" Her pleasant voice invaded my personal mental territory. My mother was short and round, had a plump face and wherever she smiled; her eyes disappeared in her cheeks. She had flaming red hair like mine and she always wore her wedding on a chain around her neck. She never liked rings - not even her wedding ring. They suffocated her. I looked at the woman who was the reason for my existence. She taught me how to paint, to see all the colors of the wind. The shades of water and the hue of trees. She taught me what each color meant, the meaning of each stroke and the reason behind it. She taught me that a painting is not something that cannot be made it's something that is created from the depth of the soul. The power, intellect and force behind each and every stroke gives life to it, gives meaning to it. It was important to remember that emotions must be true to everything and everyone… though whenever I looked at her paintings- I failed to understand her brain and emotions. There was something in her paintings that I've never seen in any other human being – not even in my self. Every time I looked at her paintings – I only managed to loose myself in them – get mesmerized. Sometimes I wished I could look inside her mind for once and see how it works, find answers for my questions but I guess few things are better if left unsaid.

"I never got there mom," I said back irritated. She could clearly see my irritation.

"Why what's wrong" She spoke with a hint of panic.

That was the last thing I wanted to do now, get her all panicky. "Nothing my heel broke down in the middle of the way" I looked in her eyes. "And my wand" I added and smiled slightly.

"Oh honey, you can take your dad's" She replied content.

"Nah! It's okay." I answered back as I started to climb the stairs. I so cannot use some one else's wand. They just don't work for me!

I opened my sister in law, Luna's bedroom door. She was hanging upside down in thin air. What the fuck!..

"Hey Gin!!" She greeted me cheerfully. Too cheerfully - Now that was so not normal.

"I am borrowing a pair of heels." I informed her as I rummaged through her closet finally settling my heart on black heels with the smallest buckle.

"When did you get these?" I asked her as I twirled in front of the mirror to make sure the heels went with my dress perfectly. They did, as the dress and heels were both black – yeah I know so blonde of me!

"Never did, remember it was a gift from Ron." She replied conservatively as she did a weird flip in the air. I nodded, "Well, have a nice day." As soon I walked out I saw Ron, coming up stairs, his cell phone like always glued to his ear. He winked at me as he spoke to whom ever he was speaking.

"Ginny!!!" I heard my mother's voice booming half way through the house, "Your boss is on Port one what you want me to say?"

Excellent! Can't my mother make something up for once? And wondering what's Port one? Thanks to the walking dictionary Hermione Granger, we've got something similar to Muggle telephone. Just that you can see the person and the person can see you more clearly.

"I am picking up from my room!" I equally yelled back.

I dashed to my room, and picked up the phone, "Hello!" I breathed out. I could hear the television playing an eighty's song, Wizard. "Mom, put the port down from your side."

"Oh sorry dear, do you like him? You want to marry this guy?"

"Mother!" My voice came horrified. Instantly, the line went dead from her side.

"Get your arse down here Evans, or you are fired!" Mr. Robson's voice came like an earthquake to my ear, his face was hard as a rock and fuming angry.

"Yes sir! I am on my way!" I replied as polite as I could keeping my composure calm...

The line went dead, his face disappeared into the thin air and I crashed in to my bed took a cushion and screamed into it, an ear-splitting scream. I was still, my restless heat beat blocking out any possible sound, enveloping me to somewhere that only existed for me. I loved that place, nothing was real in there except for my own existence, which was lighter than a cloud and floated, taking me anywhere I wanted to go. Back to secret old memories or to the days when I was more superior than I was now, the time when I could control myself and emotions were not as frail as they were now. I could go back and forth in future, see things that I want, feel the presence of my deceased ones and listen to their melodic voices… That nothingness was my ecstasy and like any other drug it was fatal to me, coming back from there left me numb and lost for days. If it weren't of my best friends, Ava, Ella and Summer my survival would have been complex and difficult. I took a deep breathe, got up and looked at the mirror. Useless…

I stormed my way down the stairs. My mother approached me but I pulled my hand up indicating to stop as I was on my edge. I poured myself a cup of lemonade.

"So I heard you are getting married, Ginny? Ron chirped up.

I nearly choked on the lemonade. "Who said that?"

"Mom..." He replied from the floor, confused.

As if, "Do tell me where and when?" I said back icily and gulped down the lemonade. "And with whom"

"Bye… I guess." I heard my brother.

I pulled the door open with a little more force, put my shades on and closed it behind me with a bang. I stood at the doorstep, dead Mr. Henry was gone, and he was now officially rotting in the ground. Mrs. Todd was mowing her lawn. I firmly hated mornings now, more than ever.

I cleared my head, and walked towards the sidewalk, thinking of the divorce case waiting for me, ignoring the fact that according to my mother I was getting old and was in a desperate need for an affair or something. There were so many things that I wish I could just ignore. Ignoring is difficult so screw the bliss. I walked smoothly down the sidewalk. It took me another twelve minutes to reach the main street, if I hurried it would have been nine, but that was going to make me all sweaty. If I slopped my way, seventeen minutes – my boss would have murdered, there was still a possibility that he will! It took another 3 minutes for the bus to arrive.

I hoped on the Double Decker, and paid up front for the Twelfth Avenue. This day could not get anymore worse than it already is; my brain consoled me, so relax. I actually believed that!

Finally! The bus stopped. Its pressure break shook me back to reality.

I jumped down slightly as I got off the stupid Muggle shite bus. The bloody telephone booth was a street crossing away from me. I slowed down my speed. It was too sunny for my liking and was about half ten in the morning. I was walking along Twelfth Avenue. My bad mood seemed to be clouding up my head, entertaining dark thoughts about –now a wide range of subjects. My brain was constantly thinking it always was. At times, I felt as if a wireless is shoven in my head and it won't turn off! Some conscience!

Chief among my dark thoughts was my boss and different ideas came in my head about how he is going to fire me. Probably in front of my co-workers… Nah! Perhaps, he won't, tough luck on that one. What was I thinking? Being sacked bothered me all the time, this subject thrummed relentlessly beneath everything I did, every meal I ate, when with my friends, every shower I took, every time I went bowling. Why was I worried about it now? I didn't even like, leave alone love my job.

I walked through the street quickly, hoping to get to office as fast as possible. The sun was shinning just a little too bright for my own likeness, making hard for my eyes to focus. I stopped at a corner as I waited for the red light to change green, impatiently. I tapped my foot and clenched my teeth as cars passed by fast, excessively fast for the limit. The sound of them breaking through the wind and running over manholes was all I could hear for a few moments before IT happened.

As I put my foot forward and was just about to cross the road… A loud screech and a loud honking!

My already disorientated vision traveled from the road to the sky as my head hit the ground with a thud. Black spots started to appear in front of my eyes. For a few seconds, it felt like going into a coma. I blinked, once – twice and finally my vision came back. I heard a car door rip open and close with a bang. I sat up and looked around with a shocked face and my shock turned to astonishment as I saw him, the man that would haunt for a long time.

I couldn't see a thing as colorful circles took over my vision but I had a hunch that he was staring down at me. Though I could feel that he was angry, his eyebrows pulled down in the middle as his platinum shiny blonde hair glistened in the sun giving him an aura that was slowly taking over my other senses as well. His skin was alabaster and smooth, with a face that was angry – that was the only emotion visible. It was hard for me to dismiss. His body was lean and tall, muscular but not very evident, he wore all black and it made me shiver. The contrast between the color of his clothing and his skin was stunning.

The honking became irritated and frantic but he seemed to roll his eyes, he continued walking the way he was, which was towards me. I squinted as the sun suddenly shone into my eyes and my heart stopped, I realized his eyes were the murky grey color of a livid storm… how did I know? They were on me.