Chapter One:

Broomsticks and Fireplaces

Under the window, where Errol and visiting owls could come and go, the air was crisp. The sun was just beginning to burn away the morning dew on the grass. However, sitting in the shadow of the Burrow, the name of her family home, Ginny couldn't feel any of the sun's warmth as she waited for the day's post.

Being chilled was a small sacrifice to have this solemn time to herself. Most mornings she rose early and met her mum in the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. Lately however, she'd taken to keeping vigil here at every opportunity.

Her vigil appeared to pay off today. She saw three owls flying in the distance, at first from different directions but eventually their flight paths aligned.

Errol came back with nothing. Ron had sent him out with a letter to Harry Potter, as he had many times this summer, but once again returned with no reply. Errol flew through the open window and landed in the spacious perch inside.

The next owl to arrive was Hermes, Percy's gift for becoming a prefect at Hogwarts. Percy, the third eldest Weasley who was starting his sixth year at Hogwarts, had been writing secret letters to an unnamed individual all summer. Hermes did return with a reply. Ginny didn't bother to try to find out who his correspondent was. She wasn't interested and besides, Percy had apparently instructed Hermes to guard his letters, much to the twins, Fred and George's dismay.

Hermes flew through the window, and landed on the owl perch to rest as well. Unlike Errol however, he enjoyed walking up and down it's many posts and crawls, whereas poor Errol, the elderly family owl, would only drink some water and then lean against one of the posts to pass out asleep.

The last owl to approach the house carried only the Daily Prophet. Ginny's dad had a monthly subscription so after she removed the wizarding paper from the lacings on the barn owl's leg it immediately took off again on its way to its next delivery.

Ginny tossed the paper through the window and onto the couch in the Burrow's sitting room. The letter she was looking for did not come with the morning's mail.

Traditionally, potential Hogwarts students received their invitation letter and sent their reply as to whether or not they would be attending around their eleventh birthdays. Ginny's birthday however, fell right into the roughly six weeks between when the letter would already be past due at the end of July and the cutoff date in September that forced all students, Muggle or wizard, to wait to begin school the following year.

It was now half-way through July and her eleventh birthday was less than a month away, but the reply was due in nearly two weeks. If Ginny didn't get her invitation soon, it meant she either wasn't deemed magical enough to attend Hogwarts, or that she would have to unfairly wait another full year before she could go.

Trying to tell her mum or dad about her worries over the letter was nearly impossible. With so many people in the house, Ginny rarely got a word in edgewise unless all her brothers were outside. Quite different than when she was alone with her mother all year long while they were at school and their father at work.

It was ok up until last year when Ron, the youngest Weasley brother, who was just a little over a year older than Ginny, started at Hogwarts. Ron was twelve now and beginning his second year this fall. Being the youngest and the only kid in the house during that time was very lonely. She couldn't stand the idea of having another year of hearing about what her brothers were getting up to and learning or getting into trouble for without being a part of it.

Whenever Ginny could broach the subject of her missing letter, neither one of her parents seemed anywhere near as bothered as she was. They weren't the sort of parents who tried to solve every problem for their kids, probably because there were so many of us Ginny thought.

Mum did her best she supposed. Teaching Ginny not only Muggle primary school lessons, but the incantations household charms, and proper pronunciation of verb conjugations in the magical language as well. Even if Ginny only practiced wand and wrist movements with a fresh cut switch from outside, she was at least much better at her Greek and Latin pronunciation than she used to be, better than Ron even.

Ginny hated the switches that she practiced with. No matter how short she cut them they always felt too wobbly and messed with her wrist movements, meaning her mum would make her do them over and over again until she got them right with the makeshift wand. Ginny's mum had promised her a brand new wand of her own when she started at Hogwarts. She was also promised brand new school robes, and a small pet of her own too since she couldn't take Abellio.

Bill and Charlie, who've both already graduated Hogwarts, usually sent a small pile of gold in the middle of summer to help out with all the school supply shopping and this time they both had sent more than usual knowing four younger brothers and a sister were attending this year. Last year, Charlie had helped by sending his old wand to Ron as a gift as well.

With only two graduated brothers, there just weren't enough hand-me-downs to go around. She was glad that girls' wizard robes differed from guys' robes a bit and that she didn't get hand-me-downs in those at least. Everything else was going to need to be purchased second-hand though, books, cauldron, and potion scales.

Ginny listened for sounds of her mum bustling around in the kitchen and heard pots and pans being banged on the stove.

She carefully snuck around the side of the house. It was early yet. None of her brothers awake, not even Percy. She crept quietly, pressed close to the house, and stayed low under the kitchen windows in case her mother peered outside. When she got to the backyard she felt a bit more at ease and straightened.

Half-way across the yard one of the chickens noticed her and lead the whole lot of them towards her in a flurry. She reached into the front pocket of her green-hooded jumper, a hand-me-down from the second eldest Weasley brother, Charlie, and opened a small bag of feed she'd retrieved earlier that morning. Before the birds had a chance to become noisy, she tossed them their breakfast.

The wild quail and sparrows came for their share as well and Ginny, anticipating them, tossed them some seed from a second bag. She kept half of each bag, carefully re-tied each of them, and put the bags back into the front pocket of her jumper. Satisfying the Burrow's sentries, she hurried to the family broom shed. She was eager to go flying and her brothers were only home with their superior brooms for two months during the summer holiday.

There were three brooms in the shed, one of them was originally a hand-me-down from Arthur, Ginny's dad, and it now belonged to Ron. It was an old Shooting Star, previously used by Percy, and before him Bill, the eldest.

The other brooms were both Cleansweep Fives, not as good as the Cleansweep Seven out now and nowhere near in league with the Nimbus 2000, but the best the Weasleys owned. The Cleansweep Fives belonged to Ginny's older twin brothers Fred and George. Fred and George were fourteen and starting their fourth year at Hogwarts this fall, both of them had previously made their house Quidditch team and Charlie, who used to be a Quidditch captain, chipped in with Bill to get them their very own brooms to play on so they didn't have to use old school ones. These were what Ginny looked forward to when her brothers came home on holidays.

Ginny grabbed the one on the left this time, she used the one on the right the day before and she wanted to get a good feel between the slight differences between two brooms of the same model.

Ginny loved flying and loved watching Quidditch but was rarely allowed to play or practice with her brothers. She didn't have a broom of her own and they weren't keen on standing around on the ground taking turns either. Mum said it was a boy thing, and that Ginny could use the Shooting Star all she wanted when they were away at school.

Up until last year, she had to sneak out when Ron wasn't around to notice to get a chance. Riding his broom in peace was the only consolation she had had while all her brothers were away at school and even though she knew she would have that advantage again if she didn't attend Hogwarts this year, the old Shooting Star's ride wasn't worth missing out on learning magic with her own wand.

Quick before anyone at home missed her, she mounted the broom and took off through the rows of trees in the orchard. Stopping at a tree that held quite a few ripe apples she paused to take out the drawstring bags she had used for the chickens and garden birds and looked for two of the biggest apples she could find to fit inside them. Tying them closed and putting them back in her pocket and she jumped back onto her borrowed broom and took off again.

She stayed below the trees' canopy so Muggle villagers wouldn't see her and when she got near a grove bordering the Weasleys land and the neighbors, she slowed down to wind her way slowly over briars and under branch hangings at the grove entrance. Once inside she practiced her acceleration and braking while rising, diving, and turning.

The trees inside the grove were very old and had many thick branches spread far apart from each other making maneuverability fairly easy for the practiced rider. When she felt confident enough with the controls she looked for squirrels to chase up and down through the branches.

The little grey squirrels were quick and very agile, bounding from one branch to another, racing around tree trunks, and even jumping from one tree's branch clear over to the wisps of another's. Once, a couple of years back, a squirrel missed, and Ginny dove for it before it hit the ground. At the time, she was riding Ron's old Shooting Star though, and never would have caught up. Luckily it managed to snag a branch a bit further down the tree with its front paws and didn't seem any worse for the wear when it scampered away. After that incident, Ginny didn't chase them quite so closely, but rather followed them along the trunks and branches as they scurried away.

She never knew which path they would follow and often laughed out loud when they out maneuvered her. When she was younger they got away from her easily but just this past summer Ginny found herself nearly able to brush their tails without even seeming to try while riding one of the Cleansweeps.

After more than a quarter of an hour of practice with the squirrels, Ginny took a break and landed on the ground. Panting slightly and holding a stitch in her side from the constant balance corrections while in the air. The squirrels began to edge down the trunks towards the ground, their stomachs heaving as well. Ginny clicked her tongue and looked around for Abellio, a rare black squirrel she'd found as a pup, (or a kit, she still wasn't sure what the correct term was).

Three years ago, Abellio had been wandering around in the apple orchard in late March when there was still snow on the ground; easily seen with his black fur. Ginny had scooped him up and, not being able to locate a single other squirrel in the area, had taken him straight home. Allowing him to go outside as he pleased all summer in order to let him learn to be on his own.

The following fall of that same year, Ginny had taken him farther and farther away from the house until she finally introduced him to the tree grove. After a few days had passed, Abellio stopped coming back to the Burrow. Ginny had always been able to find him in the tree grove though.

She waited patiently and sure enough, Abellio came down from his tree and when Ginny produced seed and grain in her hand he came over and sat down right beside her. She threw the chicken and bird feed out to the other squirrels, and placed a small pile in front of Abellio leaving the apples inside the bags for later. When her seed supply was gone, she reached over and stroked the fur on the top of Abellio's head.

Ginny knew better than to pick him up or to give him a good scratch anymore, living out in the grove he'd more than likely picked up all the bugs and parasites that her mother spelled off animals before letting them come into the house.

Her breathing returned to normal and she waited for the squirrels to moved away and forage elsewhere after they'd gathered all the feed she'd thrown them in thanks for her practice. She got on her broom again, whereupon the remnant squirrels scurried away. She headed to the other edge of the grove, opposite the Weasley's apple orchard.

Over there was a paddock with four horses in it. Two bright bays, a young flea bitten grey, and an old sorrel. All of them seemed gentle. Ginny knew the neighbor girl who took care of them went away to Muggle university in the winter, but didn't see her nearly as much the past couple of summers as she'd had in years before.

She put up her hood, and flew slowly and low in the tree line running parallel to the paddock to a vantage point she knew well. There, she spied the cars in the neighbor's driveway. All of them were gone, including the one belonging to the girl who came outside to see to the horses. Ginny thought the girl may have gotten a job where she worked in the village, and that was possibly why she wasn't in the pasture as often during the summers anymore.

When she was sure no one was home, Ginny flew back to the back of the paddock, the part that went into the tree grove and provided shade for the horses and again clicked her tongue calling the animals toward her like she had seen the Muggle girl do many times before.

The two bays trotted right up to Ginny, by now accustomed to seeing her on her flying broomstick. Together the three of them raced out to the tree line and then clear of it; the bays tossed their heads and would whinny their excitement at the race.

The other two horses always looked on from a distance. The old sorrel occasionally following their progress with her head, the younger grey timidly keeping the sorrel between herself and Ginny as Ginny played with the bays.

The grey wasn't new so much anymore, and she wasn't untrained either. Ginny almost got her to take an apple a few weeks ago, but it had stayed far away since then. The sorrel on the other hand, didn't seem to be afraid nor to particularly care for Ginny. The old sorrel grazed where it wanted and would let Ginny approach, let her pet it, and even took apples when they were offered but for the most part left well enough alone. One time Ginny saw the sorrel take off running across the paddock and chase a fox back into the tree grove, but the old girl had immediately settled down after that.

Ginny always kept an eye on her when playing with the bays. The old sorrel paid attention to everything and could hear Muggle cars coming from a long way off. She tended to point her ear at the road before turning her head to look at a passing vehicle, giving Ginny just the right amount of time she would need to turn and fly back into the trees. For now though, the old sorrel was grazing contently.

Ginny turned her broom for another race with the bays. She loved watching them run, they looked so free and powerful and confident and proud; she wasn't sure what her neighbors used them for. She knew the timid grey was for jumping, as was what the old sorrel used to do. She also knew that the bays were geldings and the other two were called mares. She didn't know any of their names though. Whenever the neighbor girl was out in the paddock with them Ginny could never hear her call them by name.

The sun was starting to really warm the air by now, Ginny got down from the broom and one of the bays walked up to her and bumped his nose against her sweater pocket. Feeding the horses was special to Ginny, just like when she fed Abellio, and she didn't want to have to run back into the trees if a Muggle car approached so she laid the broom on a patch of dry grass. She got out the drawstring bags and pulled out one of the apples.

Both bays started tossing their heads up and down in anticipation. Ginny got out the other apple and put the empty bags back into her pocket. Holding one apple flat in each hand she fed them to both horses at the same time. She'd learned before not to feed them one after another, because no matter which was second fed it always stamped and bugled its frustration and Ginny needed the animals she visited to stay quiet while she trained on her broomstick.

Giving the bays a final rub on their foreheads, Ginny judged by the sun that she might have just enough time to get home before she was missed. She walked back into the tree line and mounted the broom, flew through the grove, zoomed down one of the orchard rows and landed right by the broom shed. She had just put the borrowed broom away and shut the door, her hand still on the handle when from around the corner came Percy.

Percy was the only brother who regularly got up as early as Ginny and their mum. Odd seeing him outside though, he usually stayed in his room and Ginny was normally able to sneak away and back whether he was awake or not.

"Don't even think about flying off on one of your little disappearing acts. Mum went upstairs to look for you after calling for you about a hundred times and sent me outside to stop you," said Percy. "Come on, she wants you to help with breakfast, she woke up Ron and the twins calling for you."

Miffed by his bossy tone, Ginny asked "Why can't you help her with breakfast?"

"I have N.E.W.T classes to prepare for, as you well know because I've been—"

"Yeah, and numerous more secret letters to write and send no doubt." She was getting better at cutting off her brothers as often as they normally did her. Her brothers always said she spoke nonstop and yet she was the one who was most often interrupted. She supposed it was unfair to practice on Percy though, who never resorted to such childish games.

Percy was fifteen going on fifty. He had become very tight lipped when she brought up his letters and they began walking back to the house in silence. Percy's birthday was coming up too, now that she thought about it, which meant he also fell into that small six week window of turmoil she was currently worried about.

"Hey Perce? . . . um, when did you get your invitation letter from Hogwarts? . . . When you turned eleven? Was it on your birthday? I mean, isn't your birthday after the reply no later than date? Did you get two letters or something that year? Because . . . " Ginny trailed off though, not really knowing how to say 'because she was worried' without sounding as fretful as their mum could get.

Percy though, paid little attention to Ginny's anguish and instead answered her questions directly, "Yes, I got two letters, one a couple of weeks into the summer holidays and the other with the supply list for first-years when Bill and Charlie got their lists." Percy's words should have cheered her up but this was already problematic for Ginny. It was past a couple of weeks into the school holidays and she still hadn't received anything.

"So, you didn't get any letter on your eleventh birthday at all?" implored Ginny, she wanted to be absolutely sure.

"No, and I should think not, my birthday is just days away from Hogwarts Express leaving King's Cross. It would be ridiculous to wait until the last minute like that. Both for us to shop, and the school administration paperwork I imagine," replied Percy shortly.

So what was taking so long for Ginny's letter to arrive? Today was the fifteenth of July, almost a whole month after everyone came back for the summer holidays this year.

The two of them reached the back door and went inside. With Percy right beside her, Ginny didn't put away the drawstring bags for chicken feed just yet and instead followed him into the kitchen. They rounded the corner and Percy went to see if Hermes had come back this morning while Molly, their mum, stood at the stove, a basket of eggs sitting on the counter beside her.

"Percy got to you before you took off, did he then?" Molly asked.

Ginny hesitated for a single heartbeat before saying, "Yes." She was about to ask if her mother wanted her to work on the toast to go with the eggs but was immediately interrupted.

"Really? Because the chickens didn't swarm me when I stood outside forty-five minutes ago looking for you in the yard when you didn't answer me from upstairs." Molly turned around so fast shouting "Accio!" while pointing her wand at Ginny, Ginny didn't have time to react. The two pouches zoomed out of Ginny's pocket and sped into Molly's waiting hand. "You don't need two pouches to feed the chickens dear. You were off at the neighbor's house, visiting those Muggle work animals again weren't you? I suppose you were flying with them again? How many times must I tell you that you could be SEEN?"

"But I wasn't!" Ginny began.

"How can you be sure?" her mother's eyes bored into Ginny.

"I . . . I flew close to the house and made sure there weren't any Muggles cars in the drive first," Ginny muttered quietly, "nobody was home."

"YOU FLEW CLOSE TO THE HOUSE?" Molly's nostrils began to flare at this point. Luckily Arthur Weasley, Ginny's dad, strolled in from work at this moment.

Arthur collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Molly began to shout at Arthur about his daughter. That she had taken the Weasley Crown of Mischief already this morning and how the rest of the day ought to be smooth sailing because there was no way Molly was going to tolerate something worse from one of the boys during the rest of it.

Ginny miserably sat down next to her dad, eyes lowered listening to her mum relate her 'shenanigans' to her father. She stared at a spot on the surface of the table where George had stabbed it with a fork when he had been a toddler and had left four tiny indentations in the surface.

Her mum could easily fix household furniture when it was broken by the kids but every now and then she chose not to. She called them little inconspicuous mementos from when the kids were little. All the kids were allowed to do whatever they wanted to their rooms but these special sorts of marks were all over the common areas of the house.

There was a small wisp of a burnt spot on the book shelf in the living room that Molly had left behind when sanding the marks off magically, after Bill nearly torched her collection. If you opened the pantry door, on the inside of it was a drawing Charlie did once when he was young of a sinewy black dragon.

In a corner near the counter for the sink on the floor were orange paint drips from when Ron messily painted the logo for his favorite Quidditch team.

Fred had accidentally made a dent on the front of the house outside, now hidden behind a bush, with an apple from the orchard tossed to him by George when they were pretending to hit Bludgers. That was before the two of them made their House Quidditch team. Applesauce had covered the side of the house and Ginny's mum had used a water charm to rinse it off but she left the dent the apple made.

Even Percy had ink spills on one of the end tables from when he was learning to write with a quill. Ginny glanced over at the living room picture window where, if you looked carefully enough, there was a small perfect handprint from when she was little and waiting for her dad to come home. She had stuck her greasy hand on the pane, and instead of cleaning it off her mother cast a protective charm over it to seal it to the window, so even if you cleaned the handprint remained.

After Molly finished catching Arthur up on Ginny's latest attempt to break the International Statute of Secrecy, her dad turned to her and asked how she knew nobody saw her. Put on the spot, Ginny realized how foolish her response was going to sound, but ploughed on anyway.

"One of the horses is an old mare; I think she's the leader. Anyway, she wasn't disturbed by anything outside the paddock the whole time I was there." Ginny went on to explain to her father how the mare constantly flicked her ears and turned her head to the road and how Ginny had learned to trust the mare's body language. She also went into more detail of how gingerly she'd approached the house and spied on the cars that would sit in the driveway.

Her father asked her for what seemed the millionth time if she realized how important it was not to do anything where Muggles could see you perform magic, like riding a broomstick, while no one was around to fix their memories. Eventually, Ginny was grounded for a week and told to clean the giant fireplace in the living room after breakfast.

She was quiet during breakfast and when Ron finally stumbled downstairs he asked if Errol had returned with anything for him. Percy had come back in after Molly finished preparing breakfast and gave him the disheartening news that Harry Potter had failed to reply yet again. This launched the twins, who'd come downstairs right after Ron, into talking about what had happened at Hogwarts at the end of the school year once more.

When the boys had come home they hadn't stopped talking for days about a teacher who'd died trying to attack Harry Potter. Even Percy said it was true.

Ginny had seen Harry Potter twice now in person. Once last fall when Ron left for his first year and then again when Ginny and her mum picked the boys up at King's Cross Station in the spring. Ginny didn't know it was Harry Potter the first time she'd seen him, but he had asked her mother very politely how to get onto the platform for the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny suspected he was Muggle-born at the time but was still surprised he didn't have any parents with him. It was only after he had gotten onto the train that the twins had bounded back down to the platform, after stowing their own luggage, claiming they helped Harry Potter with his trunk. Mum wouldn't let Ginny get onto the train to see him though, actually she didn't let her out of her sight the whole time they were in London. Afterwards, Ginny had heard her mother saying that Harry Potter lived with some of his Muggle relatives and that it was a shame they must've just dropped him off.

When Ron got off the train that spring, Harry Potter and a girl Ginny supposed was Hermione Granger, from Ron's descriptions in the letters he wrote, were with him. They didn't get an introduction though. Harry Potter's Muggle relatives took him straightaway. As soon as the Weasleys got into their Muggle car, Molly asked Ron what really happened with Harry Potter and that teacher.

Ron told everyone all about Hermione saving them from the Devil's Snare, which sounded dangerous and Ginny couldn't believe first-years dealt with plants like that. He also told them about the flying keys and how he beat the Deputy Headmistress's transfigured-to-life chessmen.

That hadn't surprised Ginny. Dad had taught them all how to play chess and Ginny was pretty good at it, about on par with Bill. She even beat Percy quite often. Charlie and the twins didn't care much for it, but Ron surprised everyone at his skill from a young age. Ginny hadn't seen him lose in years, even when he played against their great aunts and uncles at family reunions.

Ron apparently even won when he was knocked out in a game too, because during the race to the Sorcerer's Stone Harry Potter got to make the last checkmate move and he and Hermione moved on to the next obstacle. Harry Potter had sent Hermione back though to get help, and took on some form of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by himself at the end. Whatever happened, that professor he met down there couldn't hurt Harry Potter and had died trying to attack him while Harry Potter protected the Sorcerer's Stone.

It was for these reasons that Ginny felt very star-struck when Ron started writing letters to Harry Potter to ask him to come stay over the summer. Weeks went by though, and there was no word back. Even the twins were worried about him now, they had heard stories about how awful his Muggle relatives treated him and felt very protective of Harry Potter after he'd become the youngest and smallest member of their Quidditch team at school.

Ginny became even more star-struck when she learned that Harry Potter was the youngest Seeker on a Hogwarts Quidditch team in about a hundred years and that the Head of his House got all kinds of permissions granted to him to have a broom at school even though first-years aren't allowed to have them. Harry Potter didn't get just any broom either, he got a Nimbus 2000, the fastest broom in the world. If he did come to visit he would be bringing his Nimbus, and Ginny still couldn't think of a way to ask him to have a go on it without sounding like a complete dork.

When all her brothers left the breakfast table, Ginny stayed behind to help with the dishes. Molly was a great deal calmer now about Ginny's escapade this morning but she was still scrubbing the plates with more fierceness than was necessary. Until she came to a wooden spoon with rodent teeth marks on one end, another little inconspicuous memento.

Molly slowly examined the teeth marks, sighed, and then asked Ginny, "So, did you see Abellio this morning?"

Ginny smiled, and nodded yes, "He looked fine. He still lets me pet him and he sat down right beside me while he munched on the corn and bird seed." She looked up at Molly and said quickly, "I didn't pick him up or pet him any more than just a quick rub between his ears though."

It was Molly's turn to smile, "I know you know better than that by now," she glanced over at Ginny with a serious expression on her face, "it's the law I'm worried about you breaking, not rules," she said, pointing the soapy spoon at her as she spoke.

Ginny smiled again and let out her own sigh, one of relief. Her mum wasn't going to tell her off any more about this morning. Once her punishment was done, it would be done.

"Now go get out of that terrible jumper that makes you look like a hoodlum, put on some old clothes and comb your hair properly. Your father should have the fireplace ready soon."

Her mum hated jumpers with hoods, probably because many Muggles didn't care for them because the Muggles who did wear them weren't considered upstanding or some such thing like that. Ginny didn't care what it made her look like. It hid her face and especially her easily identifiable vivid red hair in case she did see Muggles, and it kept the rain off her head until she got home if it randomly started raining on the cloudy days.

Ginny decided long ago that she would never part with her hand-me-down hooded jumpers, they were the only anonymity she had. She never had outsider problems in the Muggle village, everyone knew she was that Weasley girl who lived outside of town with the family that kept to themselves. People she had never spoken to called her by name when saying hello, knowing she was the only girl child.

Upstairs, she was digging through her wardrobe to decide what to wear. Quite unusually for a wizard family, it was filled with mostly Muggle clothes like jeans, t-shirts and those hooded jumpers, which were slightly more durable than normal wizard wear. She didn't have much, gazing back and forth at what was hung there, so she always went to great lengths to take care of what she did have. Not that it really mattered, because her mum could easily fix just about anything that wasn't too mangled by an unruly girl.

Her parents at first thought it was odd that she often asked for t-shirts when browsing in thrift stores, but compared to her brothers, this peculiarity was the least of their worries. Ginny had hoped once that if she'd shown enough interest in Muggles, her father would agree to let her study in primary school with the rest of the kids her age from the nearby village. However, a few years ago her mother and father broke the news to Ginny that they just couldn't afford it with so many of her brothers attending wizard school.

Everyone Ginny knew had gone to wizarding school. She came from a very long line of wizards. Nobody in her family thought twice about whether or not she would be accepted at Hogwarts and then move onto some magical job like her graduated brothers have.

Bill, the eldest, worked for the nearest wizarding bank, Gringotts, in London. He was currently stationed in Egypt breaking curses that were protecting ancient tombs and collecting gold for the goblins that run the bank. He always writes with exasperation about the horrible ways in which Muggles have died trying to bypass the magical traps set by ancient wizards and about the Burke's, the family who oversaw many of his dig sites.

When Ginny was younger, her mum sometimes wouldn't let her read Bill's letters, fearing they would give her nightmares. Apparently, the days Bill was in any real danger were few and far between though. Most of his job required him pouring over maps or texts, and translating hieroglyphics and ancient runes into English, Latin, or Greek and figuring out how to disable the traps before even attempting to open the tombs. Whenever Bill would talk about work and go into detail about the curse traps he would pull out all these complicated charts and notes, all of which Ginny found very dull.

Charlie on the other hand, made Ginny's mum give a great worried sigh whenever he was mentioned. Charlie also lived abroad. These days Charlie stayed in Romania, where he worked with wild dragons. Last Christmas Ginny and her parents went to visit Charlie on the Longhorn reserve in Romania while Percy, the twins, and Ron stayed at Hogwarts for the holiday.

The Longhorns had very pretty golden horns. It appalled her that they had been slaughtered just for those horns so much so in the past that their population had dwindled down next to nothing.

Charlie explained that wizards use the horns in spells and potions, that the blood, hide, and some organs were also harvested, and that much of a hunted dragon is used for practical wizard purposes. They weren't simply making trinkets like when Muggles have similarly poached elephants or rhinoceroses to near extinction. Working at the reserve, everyone helps the main breeding program to bring back the Longhorn numbers.

Mollified only slightly, Ginny had continued her tour and instantly fell in love with the Peruvian Viper. She loved the way the light caught on the orangy-red, smooth copper scales, like campfire in the form of an animal. The Peruvians were so cute and tiny compared to other dragons, the adults not getting much taller or longer than her father's Muggle car.

Smiling, she told Charlie this was the enclosure where she'd spend most of her time if she worked here like he did and she would want to focus on breeding these adorable little guys. Charlie had laughed and told her that everyone who worked on the reserve stayed as far away from the Peruvians as possible because one of their most preferred food sources were people.

Sure enough, glancing back at the enclosure two of them had come up close and had eyed Ginny with such intensity, she could feel her heart begin to hammer in her chest. At the time, everything around her had been drowned out and for a moment, all she could see in the world were their faces, taking in her every move.

Charlie had broken the predator-prey spell when he spoke and pointed out their small fangs, telling Ginny that even if you did manage to evade one, getting nicked by one of those was still more lethal than the same thing happening from one of the other breeds.

Charlie worked with the bolder dragons, similar the Romanian Longhorns, that needed many highly trained and strong wizards such as the Norwegian Ridgebacks, Hungarian Horntails, and the Ukrainian Ironbellies of which he said there was a rumor of one in the depths of Gringotts even though Bill wouldn't confirm it. Charlie looked at Ginny with a sly smile though and said Bill hasn't denied it either. Ginny had just shaken her head, already well-aware of how her brothers teased each other, and her for that matter.

Ginny's dad wanted to see what Charlie did on a daily basis, and Charlie put his mother slightly at ease when he said that his team mainly just studied the dragons' lives. Ever since Dumbledore discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood, whatever they were, the wizarding world has been adamant about studying dragons and finding out what other uses their magical properties could achieve.

Back in her room, after reflecting on that memory, the knot Ginny had been carrying in her stomach all summer began to tighten at the thought that she herself might never get to learn what the twelve uses of dragon's blood were.

She hastily threw her hair into a ponytail. It was finally getting long, so she managed a few braid plaits, more to keep it from getting too dirty rather than for any sense of style, as she'd been taught to braid for. She hung her jumper in the back of her wardrobe again and put on a pair of shorts that were once trousers for Bill when he was small enough to fit in them and picked out one of Percy's old boring shirts. She dug around in a drawer and found one of her mother's old bandannas, saved just for dirty jobs like this, and headed back downstairs.

In the living room her father was reading the Daily Prophet he must've found on the couch. Ginny went to the fireplace. Arthur had temporarily disconnected it from the Floo network so that she wouldn't be accidently interrupted by anyone who may come through while she was standing inside it for the next few hours.

Not that anyone ever came by. Occasionally, the wizards who lived in the area popped in, or just their heads sometimes, magically through the fire but most people Apparated into the Burrow's designated field a little way away from the house and then walked up to knock on the back door.

Brushing soot and ashes from the grate and heaving it out onto the floor made the already tired muscles in Ginny's stomach and arms shake but she managed it. She pulled her bandanna over her face up to her eyes and proceeded to brush the ashes into a bucket, one dustpan at a time.

Her mother kept the ashes, using them in the garden in some places or made a harsh soap for cleaning by mixing them with water and boiling them with animal fat and salt. Some of them, her mum sprinkled in the pond outside to keep away algae, and she also used the ashes to polish the little bit of silver the Weasleys owned when she made it into a paste with water.

After that was all collected Ginny began scrubbing the soot off the stones making up the walls of the fireplace inside and out, as high as she could reach. This part took the longest, and she whiled away the rest of the morning and was well and into mid-afternoon before she was nearly finished.

While Ginny was working, Ron trudged downstairs with a letter in his hand. "Is that another letter for Harry Potter?" Ginny called from inside the hearth.

"No, this one is to Hermione, I want to know if she's heard back from Harry yet either."

Ron headed over to the owl perch. It used to be really small and didn't used to have a window. Errol never minded that, but Charlie, ever the animal lover, added onto it every summer he came home from school until he left for Romania and it was probably intricate enough now for twelve owls to roost comfortably.

Hermes, technically an adult but still a young owl, loved to wander up and down the poles as he stretched his wings. Percy's room just had a single perch, with barely enough room for Hermes to turn around on. Ginny could see why he acted disgruntled whenever Percy carried him upstairs.

Mum once thought that the owl perch took up too much space, that two owls didn't need half the living room, even when Bill or Charlie visited and their owls were here, they didn't justify the square yardage. Her mum told her dad to tear some of it down when all the boys were at school last year, but Arthur simply magically expanded the living room walls, inside and out so it was permanent, to accommodate Charlie's carpentry.

"You shouldn't send Errol on another long trip like that," said Ginny. "He just got back from Surrey. Hermes came back this morning, I'm sure he wouldn't mind and for him it would probably be just a day trip. See if Percy will let you borrow him," she suggested.

Ron looked at Errol, asleep and slumped against a wall, so tired he couldn't even hold himself up. "Useless," Ron muttered and sat down on the couch, "I already tried to use Hermes. Percy left him alone to use the bathroom and I started tying my letter to his leg. The stupid bird didn't leave though. Percy came in and hollered at me for trying to 'steal' him. He took my letter off Hermes and tossed it back at me, saying he already told Hermes that he was nearly done with his next letter and that Hermes would be leaving again with it later after it was polished up. When I asked why Hermes couldn't take both letters he got all mad and said something about Hermione getting his letter and reading it. I told him Hermione would never do that, but his face got all red and he slammed his door in my mine."

Ginny made a face at her brother from within the hearth much like Percy does before pointing out something obvious, "If Hermes is so loyal that he wouldn't leave because Percy already had a job for him to do, he certainly wouldn't let Hermione or anyone else read a letter that didn't belong to them."

Ron considered this for a few seconds, then stood up with a determined expression and walked back upstairs with his letter.

Sometime later, Ginny was in the backyard with the grate pouring water onto it with a sponge. She repeated this over and over to rinse the soot off better than when she had brushed it off earlier, before finally scrubbing it clean. Suddenly, she heard shouting drift down from upstairs. Apparently, Percy's letters were so important to him that it didn't matter how much he trusted Hermes to protect them, he wasn't letting his owl make any unnecessary stops, period.

When Ron shouted for their mum to interfere Molly simply told him that Percy earned his owl by becoming a school prefect and could do with him as he pleased. Errol would be awake soon enough and Ron could use him then. Fuming Ron threw his arms into the air and stomped all the way back up to his room and slammed the door shut yelling about how nothing he ever did was important and that everything he ever gets to have or use is always rubbish.

When Ginny came back inside with the grate she heaved it back into the clean fireplace and wiped down the living room floor where the ash bucket sat earlier and where the grate had rested before it had been scrubbed. She even added the finishing touch of putting fresh firewood into the hearth ready to go and swept up the bits and pieces that fell off the chopped wood as she put them into the grate. Everything looked picture perfect when she'd finished.

Afterwards Ginny herself was a mess. Her clothes were dirty, her hands were grey, her nails were black underneath, she could feel her face smeared with soot, and her ponytail was falling out and hanging lopsided. All she wanted to do was fall down onto the couch and catch her breath but instead Molly entered the room and inspected the fireplace. Pleased, she let Ginny run back upstairs to finally shower, and change.