I wish I created Harry Potter - but since I didn't, hence is my purpose for writing fanfiction ...

CHAPTER ONE : To the Floor

Ginny Weasley lay awake in her scarlet four poster. Coughing spasms engulfed her entire body, causing waves of nausea to rush up and down as if she were on a ship. She covered her mouth as tightly as she could, forcing the sounds of her gaging to become suppressed and quiet.

Tense and clammy, she sat up and touched her small feet to the cold floor, feeling around for her slippers.

The events of this night were on it's seventh repeat. Ginny knew perfectly well that she was very sick. A few weeks ago these symptoms seemed like nothing more than the start of a congestive cold; but as of late, they had become stronger and much more painful.

Ginny had always thought she was perfectly prepared if she ever become sick. She would tell someone; and she knew this. She knew that she would crave the comfort and love of someone who cared about her getting better. She would let Ron or Harry know, or even Hermione, or perhaps a close friend - anyone, really. Suddenly, however, it was like that feeling no longer existed. Ginny felt silly and embarrassed over something that could be as ridiculous as a cold ...

... Then why was she so scared?

Another coughing spasm overtook her, and this time she couldn't conceal it. She got up and rushed as fast as she could to the girl's bathroom, holding her mouth ever so tightly.

It was dark. Very dark. Ginny ran into the bathroom and straight to a toilet. She fell to her knees, held back her flaming red hair with one hand, and began to retch and gag so violently that she could feel her throat begin tear, until she was sure there was nothing more to come up. She then sat back against the stall wall and placed her face in her hands. But something different was there, something that wasn't vomit. Ginny squinted hard in the darkness, and realised there were streaks of glowing blood on her hands. Ginny's eyes widened as another wave of coughing and dry retching began once more.

Something was wrong - terribly wrong. And the very thought of this scared Ginny to death.

'Don't be so stubborn, Ginny,' said a thoroughly annoyed Ron. 'You're as white as Nearly Headless Nick!'

'Mind your own business, will you?' spat Ginny, who was swirling her spoon around in a gooey bowl of porridge. This morning she felt just miserable.

Ron had been on her case all through breakfast about seeing Madam Pomfrey. Even Harry and Hermione had noticed a change in Ginny. She was indeed very pale, had no appetite, and was groggy and tired looking.

'I'm the brother Ginny! ME.' said Ron importantly, jabbing his spoon into his chest repeatedly. 'If you're sick, then go see the nurse; that's what she's here for. I'll even take you if you want. You know mum'll pummel me if she knew you were sick and I didn't do anything about it.

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron! How old do you think I am? Three?' said Ginny, who's voice was becoming loud and raspy. 'I'm not a kid, Ron, I'm sixteen years old. I can take care of myself.'

'Er, he does have a point you know, Ginny,' added Hermione, placing her hand on Ginny's back. 'You're so pale. You could have the flu or something - that stuff can spread very quickly. I think it's best you go and see Madam Pomfrey.'

Ginny glared at Hermione.

'Hermione,' said Ginny, is a false sweet voice. If there was anything that Ginny detested, is was patronization. 'You're a girl, right?'

Hermione nodded reluctantly, shooting quick glances from Ron and back to Harry.'Yes - and?'

'Well then I'm sure you're quite well aware of a certain monthly thing that occurs with most girls?'

Hermione blushed, but not to the altitude of both Harry and Ron. The two boys looked at each other and then down at their porridge and began profusely shoving it in their mouths.

'Sorry ... didn't know ... ' mumbled Ron into his porridge, ears very pink, while Harry downed his pumpkin juice.

As they finished their breakfast, a sound of rushing wings came from above. First came Pigwidgeon, carrying a small package full of none other than Mrs. Weasley's famous mince pies and pasties, followed by Hedwig, who was carrying the Daily Prophet, and then proceeded by Ginny's owl (whom she received as a birthday present in August) named Rosemary.

Rosemary was a beautiful Barn Owl. Her face was as white as snow, and her body feathers were such a brown that they appeared reddish and very silky. Ginny absolutely adored everything about Rosemary - and she had always wanted her own owl.

Ginny stroked Rosemary's feathers, and then untied the small package (which contained more treats) from her leg which the bird gently held out.

'Go on then,' said Ginny with a calm soothing voice, giving Rosemary one last pat, 'go and have a nice long rest.'

Rosemary clicked her tongue at Ginny, and then flew of to the Owlery.

Ginny began to open up her small package, but became startled when she realised that Harry was staring at her.

'I don't believe you,' said Harry, completely out of no where.

'You don't believe me.' repeated Ginny, almost daring him to continue.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

'That's right. I don't remember you ever looking this sick before, so I don't believe a word of it when you claim it's a "womanly thing".'

'Well that's too bad then!' shouted Ginny. She was so infuriated, that she shot up from the table, gathered her books, and trotted off to class without saying a word.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked from one to the other.

'Oh, dear ...' said Hermione. 'I think something really is wrong with her,' she continued in a worried voice. Ron and Harry nodded, both watching Ginny disappear out of sight.

'Did you know that for the past few nights or so, I've heard her coughing like mad?' said Hermione, starting to pile up her own books.

'Coughing?' said Ron.

'Yes - coughing, gagging, everything,' said Hermione simply, as if answering a question in class. 'She's obviously been trying to cover it up, but God ... it's terrible having to listen to it.'

'Why didn't you say anything before, Hermione?' said Ron in an angry voice, with some porridge issuing from his mouth.

'Ron, please,' said Hermione bluntly, 'I didn't think it was so serious until just the other night. I thought it was a mere cold or the flu.'

'Then we've got to do something about it,' said Harry. 'If she's as stubborn as she seems, then we'll need to keep on her.'

'Good luck,' said Ron sarcastically, before gulping his remaining lot of pumpkin juice. 'If she's as stubborn as our mum is, then there's no chance in hell you'll get within a ten foot diameter of her without receiving several painful bruises.'

Harry frowned.

'Ms Weasley,' said a cold, drawling voice from behind her. 'How many times to do I need to remind you that you do not add sipher essence to the concoction before it reaches medium temperature? Doing so can cause the brewer to suffocate due to the fumes. Can you not see it clearly here, on the board?'

Ginny glanced at the board, and put the ladle down immediately. Thankfully Snape caught her in time before she actually added it.

Potions was usually one of her strengths, but today ... today, nothing seemed worth the effort, and everything seemed off.

Professor Snape smirked at Ginny's expression, and continued, 'Need I remind you Ms Weasley, that the brewing of a Forgetfulness Potion will be one of the very first things you see in NEWTS next year. I suggest you return after this afternoon's classes and brew it respectively, and when you are more focussed.'

Ginny's eyes widened, 'But Prof - '

'I am doing you a favour - do not test my patience,' said Snape more than shrewdly. He pointed his wand at her cauldron, 'Get rid of this lot.' He curled his lip, then turned and headed in another direction to harass some other student, who's potion began screaming violent death sentences.

Ginny crossed her arms and stamped the floor. Quidditch practice was tonight, and Harry had been counting on her to be there to help train up their new chaser.

'Well,' Ginny sighed to herself, and pointed uninterestedly to her cauldron, 'evanes - '

Without much warning, a strange sensation overcame her, forcing her to drop her wand and clamp her neck with both hands, gasping for air. Her gasps quickly become louder and louder, causing the room to go silent, and every head turning toward her, slightly open-mouthed.

'MS WEASLEY!' roared Professor Snape, now striding across the room toward her with both eyebrows dangerously arched in severe agitation. 'I SAID GET RID OF IT - NOT ADD IT, YOU - '

Snape suddenly stopped, and his face became still with shock and question. Ginny tried to grasp the edge of the table, but fell to the cold dungeon floor in a dead faint.