Phoenix Crusade

By Clevamugglegrl03

Edited by Gilraen R. Luinwe

Summary: (Revamped version of Your Mystery Phoenix!) How will Ginny Weasley manage to face tests, maneuver a guise, handle tutoring sessions, and the attention of a dragon all in the same year? And they said 6th year was a piece of pumpkin pie…(DG)

Chapter One: Unlikely Encounters

Year six isn't a prance through a field full of daisies, you know.

Everyone goes on about how year six is the calm before the storm, the breath of fresh air before you hit the books harder than ever before. You get to focus on the subjects of your choice, prepare for a career, and become a model citizen of the wizarding world…

"Well to bloody hell with that," Ginny Weasley mumbled under her breath as she hitched her messenger bag strap higher on her shoulder. Lugging it around all the time was a pain in the neck, quite literally, considering the cramps and aches that occurred oh too frequently. Study period for Gryffindor sixth years had just begun and she wasn't finding any repose in there. It was really silly of her to even give it a chance seeing as most of her classmates believed in the idiotic theory that this year was a party.

Now, don't get her wrong; if she could party, she would party but that wasn't the case. She wasn't as studious as her friends teased her to be. Actually, if anything, she was a rather normal student with habits of procrastination and occasional tardiness to class. She wasn't mediocre but she wasn't extraordinary either. She settled with a status nice and snug in the middle of intelligent society, unnoticed, how she liked it.

That didn't work so well when her mother was notified of how many O.W.L.s she had received the previous year.

A couple.

Not as in 'a few' either.

It was embarrassing. It was a feat worthy of the twins. It was something she never wanted mentioned again, but do you want to know the worst part of it? Ginevra Weasley was NOT dumb. It was simply an awful case of test-taking anxiety that Ginny never felt like proclaiming to the world. She had her pride and she'd like to keep it, thank you very much. And in life, everything has its price. Obviously, this was hers.

"How can you become a healer with O.W.L.s like that, Ginny?" Molly Weasley had screeched as Ginny flipped through her newest book. "It just doesn't make sense. The marks that you have are too high for you to not get—are you listening to me!"

"Well how 'bout I not become a healer and do something I'd like to do for a change. Say, a novelist?" she responded nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving the small print on the parchment.

"I will not have this kind of behavior, young lady!" Mrs. Weasley yelped.

"An editor then?"

"Ginevra!"

"A journalist, final offer."

"Couldn't you pick something else if you find medicine so horrid? Something, oh I don't know, more stable!" Molly fumed.

"I'd better be a belly dancer then. Can't have enough of those, right?"

That day, Ginny couldn't have made Fred and George any prouder.

But with all joking aside, Ginny was just as worried as her parents were about her test scores. Most teachers were able to do little things to make her calm down a bit before a test (Professor Flitwick had a cup of herbal tea sent to her during breakfast before her charms test first period) for they seemed oddly sensitive to a student's problems. She didn't even have to hint at her problem for them to simply pick it up, or perhaps it was the scores that notified them…

Either way, they couldn't really do much when her anxiety was kicked into overdrive during the O.W.L. testing time. The whole idea that her future school career depended on a bunch of tests horrified her to no end and thus began the nervous wreck of babbling when they asked her a question. Even when they asked Ginny for her name she would, when she could speak coherently, answer 'Queen Elizabeth II' or 'your mother'.

The two O.W.L.s she did receive were in arithmetic and creative writing, two subjects on opposite sides of the spectrum but ones that didn't require her to talk to the test giver. Writing and numbers she could work with even if her throat was dry and her palms were sweaty. It was sheer luck more than anything because sometimes she found she couldn't even move her hand to write, like during the History of Magic essay portion of the test.

So, here she was, searching for the best place to study and get to work on her transfiguration homework, when she realized even the library was full. Cursing under her breath once again, Ginny whirled around in search for another place, any place, as long as it was quiet.

Not that studying really helped. She could be the most prepared student for a test ever known to wizarding kind and still flunk the moment she saw the nicely stapled packet of papers. It was odd how she had no hope for oral examinations while writing fluctuated on the day the test was taken. Literally, the day! Okay, so perhaps it was a more complicated form of anxiety.

Her mind caught in the wonder of her problems, she all but gracefully stumbled to the floor as the ground beneath her started to move. Say what now! Ginny hadn't even realized she had been climbing up stairs yet. Bracing herself against the railing, she waited for the staircase to stop moving. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing; it could take her to a quiet place to work for all she knew.

Peering down the corridor, her eyes scanning for any sign of familiarity, Ginny tiptoed closer as if she wasn't supposed to be there. She tilted her head to the side before she recognized a couple of paintings that waved at her in their own recognition. Ah, that's right, she thought, adjusting her bag again, this is the way to the Room of Requirements. I bet it hasn't been used in ages…

When she arrived, she stuck her head in, eyes darting back and forth taking note of the torches that lined the walls, dimly lighting the room. There was a large, red armchair that strikingly contrasted with the darkness, angled directly across from a small fireplace. There was a murmur of soft whispering, the whole aura turning off Ginny's adventurous mood, making her feel like she ought to turn and run like any other intelligent person would have done. But instead, she was glued to the spot, not thinking about the light flooding in from the passageway behind her, her hand gripping at the shoulder strap of her messenger bag tightly.

"Father, we've got to stop doing this. It's way too suspicious for me to have to leave so often, always by myself. Don't you think people will start to notice?"

A deeper and, Ginny couldn't help but notice, slightly crackling voice responded with a deep throated chuckle. "You're a Slytherin. That whole house already knows what you're up to and I bet they are doing the same as we speak."

The dark outline of the person in the chair dropped its head slowly, "I suppose you're right, Father."

Another laugh reverberated through the room. "Suppose?" it asked incredulously. "Of course I'm right, you useless fool!"

Ginny found herself slowly being drawn in, the opening into the room closing silently behind her. Funny, was it charmed to do that? Well, that was no matter. This could be useful information. Something all Slytherins do? Ginny thought. Well that's obvious. It must have something to do with He-who-must-not-be-named. I could probably report this to Harry. Wait, scratch that; tell Hermione, the sensible one.

"So what are your plans for the future? You'll be joining the ranks in a month and I would like to know how your initiation project is going."

This is odd, Ginny thought. I can't see another person, so who's he talking to? I mean, I knew he was weird but…I should get closer; maybe the other person's standing or something.

The outline on the chair seemed to rest his head on what Ginny supposed was the palm of his hand. He looks distressed…

"It's," the outline forced out with an effort, "a work in progress."

"Don't be smart with me, boy!"

"But it's nearly impossible for me to do all of this. Can't I just postpone it until I'm out of—"

"Postpone!" the father yelled in outrage. "You are to join the Dark Lord's ranks immediately, you half-witted child! Be glad that he is gracious enough to allow you in!"

"But Father!"

"Draco, you had better watch your tongue!" the father warned dangerously.

Ginny's mind reeled. "Malfoy?" she hissed to herself. "Two Malfoys? Where the hell is the other one?" The Fates must have been gracious enough to allow her whisperings to be inaudible to the two other people in the room.

Draco stood up, the red chair he was sitting in dematerializing as he did so. He took quick strides toward the fireplace and knelt before it, his hands clutching the carpet. "Father, I do not wish to disobey you, but I only wish for more time. I promise I will join the ranks but can it not wait until after I graduate?"

Sparks flew out of the fireplace, burning Draco's face and arms, the fire turning from a bluish tint to a blood red hue. Oddly enough, Ginny couldn't see any burns on his pale skin but Draco still let out a strangled grunt, clutching at the carpet harder. He shoulders tensed and shook for a minute before he hissed out in pain. The scene almost made Ginny feel a slight bit of sympathy for him. He was, after all, pleading on his knees with an apathetic, cold father; something Ginny thought she'd never see.

But she pushed those feelings away immediately, her senses kicking in just in time. Perhaps this would be the best time to make a run for it.

"You disappoint me so much, Draco. Perhaps a little bit of pain will make you think some things over, clear your mind."

And after a flicker, the flames of the fireplace went back to normal and Draco hoisted himself up against a wall. Propped up by his elbow, he slid down to sit on the cold floor, his arm resting over his right knee. He glared down at his shoes, his emerald and silver tie loosened and his clothing not quite crisp to perfection. It was the first time Ginny saw anything that related to disarray within ten feet of Draco Malfoy. She nearly snorted, lacking any sense of pity for the tired boy.

"Damn. Why? Why can't I just say it…" he muttered under his breath, running an agitated hand through his hair. "I fight for myself, and only myself. I don't want to take any damn orders from anyone else."

Ironic, Ginny thought with a smirk. What do you call that pitiful scene there with your father?

She backed up a bit, heading towards the door. Well, what would he say if a sudden flood of light filled the room? Surely he'd see her and there'd be no way to explain. Hmph. Like I need to anyways, Ginny thought indignantly. She started to back away anyways, trying to come up with a plan as she did so. He'd get up soon and need to leave, and where would that leave her? He'd be bound to find her…

I need to be invisible! Ginny thought, giving her theory a little try. It was her only hope, for wasn't this room supposed to grant your every request? She looked down at the ground in wonder when she couldn't see herself. Well, isn't that nifty? She took a step backwards in fascination.

Creak.

Oh Merlin, she wasn't weightless! Her eyes snapped up to meet with Draco's, her mouth forming a tight line. She tried her hardest not to laugh at his perplexed expression as he furrowed his brows then shrugged, turning his attention back to his, apparently, painful arms. He examined them thoroughly, wincing to the point Ginny thought he might actually cry as he poked himself to find the invisible burns.

She ordered the door to open silently while his head was still down, but when the flood of light entered, Malfoy hastily (although haste at this time, for him, wasn't that fast) stood up. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"No one!" she squeaked, her eyes widening as the words escaped her mouth. Who said that? I most definitely did NOT just say that. Oh hell, I AM an idiot!

"Where are you?" he hissed, taking slow steps forward.

Ginny snorted loudly. "I'm behind you," she mocked. "Oh wait, now I'm in front of you. To your left, your right, actually, I'm everywhere, isn't that great?"

"I will not play these games! Now, stop being a coward and come out!" he spat, his own smug smirk surfacing. "I'll have you know, you won't be able to escape!"

He took a step closer, too close for Ginny's comfort. She shifted to the right, so that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with him. She bent closer, her breath light enough to tickle his ear. "We'll see about that."

Draco whirled around to the sound of her voice, conveniently turning his back to the corridor. She dodged his outstretched wand and slipped away, keeping her steps light and quick as she neared the flood of light. She took a run for it as soon as her feet hit the hardwood floors of the hallway, her giggle reverberating in the boy's ears as he swiveled around just to see the doorway shut. A long string of muffled curses filtered into her ears as she laughed outright and took a turn towards the main hall. She was quite hungry after such an adventurous endeavor.

A/N: In this story, book six did not happen because, well, I wrote the original before book six came out and it just wouldn't make sense if all that drama between Harry and Ginny, the trio leaving to search, global doom, and such had happened previous to this year. Honestly, that situation with the one in this story would just tear her to pieces. Also, I made Ginny be in 6th year instead of 5th because…well because I said so. But even though the first chapter is WAY different than the original first chapter, rest assured that it will follow the same concept and still keep some major plot points. I just needed more things to work with because obviously Phoenix was dragging one problem out (what! You didn't think I would notice?) I hope it was an interesting read. Reviews are greatly appreciated.