Chapter One: Leaving Home?

The things that I remembered most about him were his smile and his eyes. The kind that stunned you into a silent stillness, like the affect of a snake's on a fieldmouse. They did this to me, and they invited me in. I had felt the electric energy between us when I'd placed my hand in his own outstretched for the first time. The memory made me shiver now in disgust and yearning, in my seat on the train, as I stared out the rain-streaked window.

"Want anything from the trolley, Miss?" The voice brought me out from my inner ramblings and I looked up, to my right.

"No, thank you," I answered in a somewhat detached voice, then turned my gaze back to the blurrily passing outside. I heard her move on, and I flicked my wand to close the door. I hated for my door to be open.

One year earlier...

"I don't want to go to boarding school!" I shouted at my Harry and Ginny Weasely-Potter, my parents. "Pavia, please," my father started.

"No, Daddy!" I cut him off. "I don't want to leave home!"

"Babydoll," my mother said, timidly. "Will you please think it over?"

I bit my lip and reluctantly nodded.

"We'll talk about it when you've had time to think," she assured me.

I nodded again.

"Now, what should I make for dinner?" she asked me.

"Roast beef and mashed potatoes?" I asked softly.

She smiled warmly at me. "As you wish, Darling.

"And we'll go out for icecream later," Daddy promised.

Momma and I both gave a pleased little smile.

"Alright, Daddy," I said, and went up the wooden winding staircase, which didn't touch the floor except for the bottom step, to my room. Closing my purple-black door, I traced the golden knob that was engraved with the Weasely crest, as most of my things were. I looked around my room: the lavender walls and shiny, dark wooden floors; the black bedding with lavender flowers and matching plush rugs; my silver vanity with lavender jewles; the window seat and black curtains; every nlack chair and lavender cushion. I examined every one of my photographs and all of my artwork. I couldn't imagine not going to sleep and waking up here every night and day.

I sat down on my window seat, grabbed my stuffed brown monkey, Lulu, hugged her tightly to me as I huddled up into myself and cried.

{Ginny's POV}

I fussed with locks of my fiery-red hair as my husband, Harry, and I try our best to convince our daughter to go to Hogwarts school. All that we could tell her was that it is out on the sea, but for the English, and very important to us because we went there.

"I don't want to go to boarding school!" she yelled at us.

"Pavia, please," Harry started.

"No, Daddy!" she interupted. "I don't want to leave home!"

"Babydoll," I spoke up, and asked hopefully, "Will you please think it over?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

"We'll talk about it when you've had time to think," I assured her.

She nodded again.

"Now, what should I make for dinner?" I asked my angel.

"Roast beef and mashed potatoes?" she answered in a soft voice.

I smiled fondly at her. "As you wish, Darling.

"And we'll go out for icecream later," Harry promised her and gave me a wink; he knew that I loved sweets as well as our daughter.

The two of us gave him a small smile.

"Alright, Daddy," she said, and went up the staircase to her room.

My husband and I sat down, each with an exhausted exhale. harry rubbed his face and massaged his temples. I watched him, arms wrapped around myself.

"I hope she make the right decision," he finally said, his expression wary.

"Well, baby," I reasoned, placing a comforting hand on his arm, "it might not be the right decision in her mind; she doesn't know the situation".

He nodded and said, "I wish...," then trailed off, in pain.

I hugged him hurriedly and rubbed his arm. "I know. But, Harry, Darling, this is not your fault."

"They're after her because of me."

"But that's not your fault."

He sighed and leaned on me. Although I had never admitted it, I was always honored to have had the great Harry Potter have chosen me to lean on. I kissed his hair and we just held eachother for awhile-I had to make Pavia believe that it took me a couple hours to cook the roast, when all that I had to do was flick my wand. I thought about how I missed magic.