August 1998

Hands shaking with the tension, Ginny opened the envelope. She was sure that this was it; it looked official and she didn't recognise the handwriting. Plus, she had been waiting weeks for a response. If it was what she thought it was, the contents of this envelope could change her life.

Ginny finally managed to free the parchment from its prison and she began to read.

Dear Miss Weasley,

Thank you for your letter. It is with great pleasure that we would like to invite you to—

"Ginny, dear?"

"Just a minute!"

Whatever her mother wanted could wait; this was one of the most important letters she had ever received. She wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. Was this really her chance? Or could it just make everything worse? Her heart raced as she read; she felt sick even contemplating what was going to happen next.

"GINNY!"

"Merlin, Mum!" Ginny flung open her bedroom door and grumpily made her way downstairs without finishing the letter. "You really do choose your moments," she added under her breath.

The kitchen, as always, was a hive of activity. Dishes scrubbed themselves vigorously in the sink, sending soap bubbles everywhere. Beside them, a peeler worked at that evening's potatoes, sending curls of skin tumbling gracefully into the bowl underneath. Overlooking the room was the family clock, with all the hands but one restored to home or work as appropriate. With a pang, Ginny surveyed Fred's hand – now redundant – hovering uselessly between travelling and lost. Nobody had the heart to remove it.

Molly Weasley closed the oven door, red-faced, having checked on the pie whose delicious smell permeated the house as it cooked.

"There you are, dear," she said.

Ginny was unable to keep the impatience from her voice. "Yes. What is it?"

"Oh, sorry – were you busy?" Molly didn't wait for an answer. "I was thinking tomorrow might be a good day to go to Diagon Alley to get your Hogwarts things. There isn't long left, you know! Just think, my baby off for her last ever year at school." Her eyes glistened.

"Mum," Ginny said, patting her mother awkwardly on the back. This wasn't going to help with the conversation she had been avoiding for weeks.

Molly wiped her eyes. "Sorry. Just… being silly. You'll understand when you have children."

Normally, Ginny would have been exasperated at her mother's oversensitive behaviour, but all it did this time was make her feel more guilty than she already did. She sighed. She'd been hoping to wait a couple more days before confessing, but there was no point in going to Diagon Alley to buy school books when…

"Mum, I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

Molly stared. "Of course you are, dear. I know Ron isn't, but you have to. You're seventeen – you need to finish your NEWTs."

Clearly this was going to be just as difficult as Ginny anticipated. "Attendance isn't compulsory," she reminded Molly. "I don't want to go back. Not after everything that's happened."

"You need an education. You need it for your future!"

"What I need," said Ginny loudly, "is for people to remember that I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I don't want to go!"

"What have I done wrong?" Molly lamented, head in her hands. "Seven children, and only three with NEWTs! What on Earth will you do instead, with no qualifications?"

"Look at how successful Fred and George were with no qualifications," Ginny argued, continuing despite the lurch from her stomach and the whimper from her mother when she said Fred's name. "I don't need them either, for what I want to do."

"Well, what's that, then?" Molly demanded, scepticism in her voice. "What's your big plan?"

"I got a letter this morning." Ginny's voice quivered with excitement. "The Holyhead Harpies have invited me to their tryouts for next season. They want me to try for both Chaser and Seeker."

Molly surveyed her daughter in disbelief; she seemed unsure whether to be proud or furious. "Professional Quidditch? Sweetheart, you have to be seriously good… even Charlie didn't go that far."

"Charlie was never interested in playing professionally. You know that!" Ginny said, offended. "Everybody at school says he could have done. I might not be as good as him, but I was Captain last year. I'm good, Mum. Seriously."

Molly sighed. "When are these tryouts, then?"

Although momentarily taken aback that her mother had stopped shouting, Ginny knew that her next answer would not be well received. "10th September."

"After school starts? What happens if you don't get in? What will you do then?"

"I'll get a job or something, I don't know; I don't care…"

Molly took Ginny's hands, a pleading look in her eyes. "Darling, just think about what you're doing. You were always so good in your classes. Look at your OWL results. Do you want to just throw that away?"

"You don't understand!" Ginny exploded, snatching her hands away. "Quidditch was my only solace!"

"Solace? What do you mean?"

"Last year." Even those words were enough to send a shiver through her body. Ginny had never confided in her mother what being at Hogwarts with the Carrows was really like. She hadn't told anyone except for Harry.

Molly hesitated before saying anything more, like she was unsure whether she wanted to know the answer to her next question. "How bad was it?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Tears burned at Ginny's eyes, in danger of falling. "They tortured us," she whispered. "The Cruciatus Curse. For the tiniest things. And then they tried to make us use it on first years." A look of horror crept across Molly's face, but she let Ginny continue. "Some people did it, because it was better than what would happen if they refused. The rest of the staff couldn't help us – they couldn't do anything. They barely let us train, but the Quidditch matches, the feeling I get when I fly… it was the one thing they couldn't take away from me."

There was a pause while her words sank in.

"Oh, Ginny," Molly said, letting out a sob as she pulled her daughter into her arms.

"That's why I can't go back," Ginny confessed, allowing her tears to fall freely onto her mother's shoulder. "It'll remind me of the Carrows; of wondering whether Harry and the others were alive; of that day, seeing Fred…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Stroking Ginny's hair, Molly looked her daughter in the eyes. It looked like there were a thousand things she wanted to say, but they were all too painful. "Darling… follow your dream." She hesitated. "Fred would be proud."

A fresh wave of tears threatened to overcome Ginny; it was the first time she had heard Molly say her son's name since his death. "You're sure?" She would have done it either way, but suddenly having her mother's blessing meant the world.

"Of course," said Molly, wiping her eyes. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief; with Molly's permission, everything seemed easier. "And if you don't get onto the team, I'm sure your father can find you a job at the Ministry to tide you over until you can try again. You'll hardly be the only person without any NEWTs, not after this year."

"Hmm… thanks, but I think I'd rather help out George in the shop." Ginny had to try and stop herself from grinning as Molly pursed her lips in disapproval. "Don't worry, Mum – I'll get onto the team if I get training. You know they have a reserve squad too!" She picked up the rusty key for the broom shed and was about to go outside as Molly called her back.

"Ginny? See if George will go out with you, will you?"

Ginny sighed. She had always been extremely close to her twin brothers, and it hurt her to see the shell of a person that George had become since the battle. "Of course. But there's something I need to do first."

Now that she had her mother's permission, Ginny had made peace with her decision not to return to Hogwarts, but she wasn't as confident about the tryout as she had led Molly to believe. Just how good did she have to be to gain a reserve spot? Would the month of training she had left be enough? The questions and doubts were buzzing around her brain, and Ginny knew there was only one place she could go to quell them. She headed out to the orchard.

Here it was: the tree where, years ago, Fred had carved his and George's names, along with an obscene picture that had almost given Molly a heart attack when she discovered it. Like every time she saw it now, Ginny wanted both to laugh and cry. She drew out the Harpies keyring – once just a silly little trinket that Fred had given her for Christmas – from her pocket, and clutched it so hard that it dug into her hand. She looked up at the sky.

"Mum asked me to bring George out to fly with me," she said softly. "I don't think he's ready to do it without you, though. Not yet." She stood in silence for a few moments, just listening to the wind in the trees. "She said you'd be proud of me. But then I remembered how much you laughed the first time I tried out for the Gryffindor team. Shut you up when I got in, though." Smiling faintly at the memory, Ginny traced the inscription on the tree. "I'll do it for you, Freddie. I'll get onto the Harpies team. I'll make you proud."

The sun came out from behind the clouds and streamed through a gap in the trees. Ginny admonished herself for the cheesy thought, but in that moment, it felt like somehow – impossibly – her brother's spirit was there cheering her on.

A/N: It feels great to be back writing post-war Weasley goodness! I've read quite a few fanfics about the Trio deciding they didn't want to go back to Hogwarts to complete their seventh year, but I've never seen anything about Ginny doing the same. In a different way, I think going back would be just as traumatic for her.

This is likely to be my last story for a little while, so I really hope you enjoyed it! Do let me know with a review... pretty please?

Many thanks to Rochelle (slightlysmall) for all her help with this piece. :)