Okay, so the basic premise here is a story about the relationship that Ginny shares with the plan to eliminate Voldemort. It will generally be from the point of view of Ginny and Dumbledore as each year gets examined from that perspective. As always, I own nothing.

A Most Powerful Witch

Year 1

There I stood, the eyes of my parents, brother, secret crush, and headmaster all on me. While I know that they were all standing right next to me, I could help but feel as if they were staring at me as if I were on the other side of a great, echoing chasm. I felt so alone. So wronged, violated even. And there they stood, looking at me like I was dirty or something, well except for Harry and Dumbledore. Harry had a look of concern while Dumbledore seemed to have fallen into a mild malaise, as if inspecting an odd curio.

"GINNY!" My father's voice filled the room. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark magic."

The look of disappointment on my father's face was overwhelming. It was my fault. I was weak and stupid, and as a result nearly everyone I cared about was thrust into danger. I couldn't contain my tears anymore. "I d-didn't know. I found it inside one of my books Mum got me. I t-though someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it-"

I could see my parents were far from finished with the chewing out, and I was trying my best to muster my strength for another assault when a hand with long thin fingers was raised in the air, seeming to command an almost magical silence. "Miss Weasley should go up to hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than I was in a bed being tended to by Madam Pomfrey, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. My parents, who had been at my side the entire time, did not bring up the issue any further. I think that, while they were still pretty mad at me, they took Dumbledore's words with great weight. Despite having the pressure and fear of a stint at Azkaban no longer lingering in my mind, I still felt hollow on the inside. I can only describe the feeling as one of hopelessness; a blindness to the path that the future held for me. I know that it sounds silly, but until you've given yourself, entirely to someone, allowed them access to your heart and soul, only to be violated in the most extreme way imaginable, could you understand. These were the thoughts that swirled through my mind in silence until the large oak double doors opened to reveal the headmaster striding toward my cot with Fawkes perched on his wide shoulders.

"Molly, Arthur, could I have a moment with Ginny in private? There are some things that I would like to discuss with her." My parents looked hesitant to leave my side. "I promise that I will do nothing to exacerbate her already delicate state."

Mom and Dad, after discussing it briefly, gave in to Dumbledore's request. As soon as the doors shut, the wizened old man sat in a chair that he conjured from thin air next to my cot. "So, you have had a rather odd year, haven't you?"

Afraid to speak, I simply nodded my head, hoping he wouldn't yell at me. "There is no need to be afraid, Ginny. You did nothing wrong." I was shocked. How could he think that after all I did?

"But sir, I nearly killed all of those people. I put everyone at risk. I don't deserve to be a Gryffindor. I don't deserve to be at Hogwarts. I should be expelled."

Dumbledore stared at me with his deep blue eyes, seeming to penetrate me. "I don't think you truly grasp the magnitude of the situation. I said that you did nothing wrong, quite the contrary in fact. You showed qualities that most can only dream of. I don't think you realize just how rare a person you actually are." He paused and I could not respond. I only glanced down hoping to burn a hole in my blanket with my eyes. "I see by your expression that you don't believe me. Well, if you would permit me, I shall elaborate. You seem to be under the impression that you and Voldemort share a great deal in common. Now, Tom Riddle, if he was anything, was someone able to charm and convince anyone of whatever he pleased. You are simply another in a long line of victims. Voldemort's greatest talents lie in his skills in creating discord and making people do his bidding against their better nature. You are not alone; he has done this many times, and will do so again. Do not think yourself weak. If you do then he truly has beaten you.

"But what truly separates you from the others who have been taken advantage of, was your will to fight, to resist. Even in the face of the most terrible Dark wizard the world has ever known, you stood against him. You still fought him to the very end. That is a quality worth admiring. Not many could boast they were under the influence of the Dark Lord for nearly a year and still managed to wrest control from him. And not only that, but when you knew your friends were in danger you rose to the occasion and disposed of the source of the danger. Miss Weasley, if you aren't a Gryffindor, than I'm afraid we may need a new sorting hat. You are as much a Gryffindor as I am."

The sun made its first appearance for the day, peeking over the mountains to the East. Dumbledore briefly glanced at the ornate patterns illuminated in the stained glass and turned back to Ginny.

Dumbledore chuckled and said, "My dear, if what I have heard of your talent for wandless magic is indeed true, you may very well ignite that blanket on fire if you don't stop staring at it."

I could feel myself turning red. "I'm sorry professor."

The older man casually waved his hand. "There is no need for an apology. I am only worried about what Poppy would say to me if I allowed her patient to catch fire." For the first time in a long time I could feel a smile on my face. "It seems I'm giving a lot of these speeches lately."

Not following his statement, I said, "Sir?"

"Well, not thirty minutes ago I was comforting a Mister Potter about his virtues and what house he belongs in. You two have a great deal in common."

My mind drifted to the boy I frequently fantasized about. I was suddenly overcome with guilt and it must have shown. "You still doubt me. Really Ginny, you must learn to trust."

Silence overcame both of us for a moment. "Sir, but I don't think I can anymore. I feel like I'm broken, infected. Is this ever going to get better?"

Something flickered across his face that I couldn't quite catch. "Well, Ginny, that is the question that I was hoping you could help me answer. You see, I need you to overcome this. I can't truly explain why, but you must trust that I have your interest at heart. Some scars never heal Ginny. Much like Harry's curse mark, you may never be rid of the emotional scars that Voldemort gave you."

My mouth dropped in shock as he spoke very hard truths. "So you're saying that it's hopeless." My worst fears now confirmed, I felt like dying.

"The mark the Dark Lord left on you is a horrible one. Perhaps even worse than that of Harry. But there exists power that is capable of such miracles that not even the most powerful of curses can overcome it." Eager to hear more I leaned in. "Love, Ginny"

I must have looked rather dumbfounded by his statement because he then followed with, "Yes Ginny, Love. It alone can repair the damage done to you. If you allow what Voldemort did to take over your life, you will shut yourself off from your friends and family, essentially building a barrier against love. You must come up with the strength to do it Ginny. I don't think you know just how much more dangerous this world will be if you can not love."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I just didn't understand yet. Then it began. A bird song, but one only for me. I looked over and Fawkes was calling out a beautiful melody. The stress of the last year seemed to wash away, if only for a moment, to give me enough time to drift off to sleep.

There Ginny was, sleeping as if she had not been through a horrid ordeal. If only Voldemort knew just how close he had come to unraveling my whole plan, perhaps he would not be so despondent to love. But if that were the case he would not be Voldemort. I looked down at the girl as I stood to leave. "Get better Ginny, we need you. Come Fawkes, we have work that needs to be done."

With that I turned my back and left the girl to sweet dreams, my midnight blue robes billowing in the air as I left.