A heated argument rang through the kitchen as Fred and George Weasley silently rose from their chairs. With their bellies full of breakfast, they nodded at one another before sneaking away upstairs. Their brother and sister took no notice of their departure.
"Please Ron, just answer my question-"
Ron pushed his cereal bowl away from himself, twisting his face in disgust. "Look at that. You've ruined my appetite," he whined.
Ginny scoffed loudly. "Don't be so dramatic! Just tell me how he became a Seeker-"
Mrs. Weasley, who had her back turned towards her children, suddenly spun around. She slammed the wet, soapy pot she was furiously scrubbing onto the dining room table. "Ginevra Weasley!" she scolded. "Stop pestering your brother about Harry!"
Their mother's sudden outburst had them leaning back in their chairs. "Mum, please," Ginny pleaded. "I want to know how he joined Quidditch as a first year. What if I wanted to join Quidditch too-"
"Absolutely not. Your first year is not going to be spent putting your life in danger," said Mrs. Weasley, ending any further discussion on the topic. With a wave of her wand, Ron's bowl of cereal and the soapy mess on the table floated into the sink. She turned back around to wash the rest of the dishes right as Ginny rolled her eyes.
Ron nodded in agreement. "You've asked me questions about him all summer. I've only known him for a year! Besides, he hasn't returned any of my letters, so who knows if we're still friends?" His voice cracked at the end of the question. Ginny suddenly felt very guilty.
"I can't imagine what those muggles must be putting that poor boy through," Mrs. Weasley muttered to no one in particular. "But this family seems to be no worse for wear." The sound of scrubbing grew louder.
Ignoring her mother, Ginny tried to console her brother. "I'm sorry Ron, I didn't mean-"
Ron suddenly stood from the table and turned towards the stairs. "Yeah, you didn't mean." He walked away in a hurry, thumping his footsteps up until he reached the top and slammed his bedroom door shut.
Ginny sat quietly, unsure of what to do. She began to anxiously run her fingers through her long, fiery orange hair when the family clock behind her suddenly chimed. Its sound seemed to beat along with her thumping heart.
After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley broke the silence.
"You're forbidden from asking your brothers questions about Harry," she said matter-of-factly.
A rising heat filled her throat, and Ginny felt herself stand up. Without realizing it she was suddenly yelling back at her mother. "That's not fair! What's the harm in asking them questions?"
Mrs. Weasley kept her voice low and cold, but her expression was more worried than angry. "Ginevra, I don't know where your obsession with Harry and Quidditch has come from, but I will not have my only daughter diving headfirst into danger her first year at Hogwarts. Now please, go to your room. I don't want to see you until supper."
Ginny's mouth hung open. Her mother's back was now turned, but she could sense the obvious tension between them. Staying in the kitchen would surely be worse than obeying orders, she thought. This battle had been fought before, and Ginny knew it was not one she could win. So she forced her anger down with a deep breath and left her mother alone.
As she sulked up the stairs towards her room, head low, Fred and George peeked their heads out over the second-floor landing.
"Yelling at Mum will get you nowhere Gin," said Fred. "Surely you know that."
Ginny, feeling too defeated to reply, simply nodded her head. She tried to walk away before George interrupted. "Wait."
"What, George?" she sighed.
The twins smiled. "As much as we love someone other than ourselves getting on Ron's nerve," said George, "we want to know something. Why do you have such an interest in Harry?"
"None of your business!" Ginny hissed.
"Alright, calm down sis. It was only a question." The twins slipped back into their room and gently shut the door.
Ginny's guilt transformed into frustration. Now she stormed up to her door, trying to make as much of a disturbance as possible. Without any hesitation, she opened it wide and slammed it as hard as she could behind her.
She stood there for a few moments, breathing heavily until a small voice suddenly chimed on her wall. "You have reached your limit of disobedience this month," it squeaked.
Hung beside Ginny's favorite poster of the Weird Sisters was the most useful present Bill Weasley had ever given her: a red and gold calendar that kept track of how much trouble she could get away with at the Burrow. She was safe from her mother and father as long as she kept her disturbances under the limit. Both annoyance at the morning's events and longing for her brother Bill now battled within her.
"Great," Ginny muttered to herself. The month had only just begun.
Not for the first time, Ginny Weasley had been suddenly awoken by her mother's shrill voice. The sound traveled up the stairway and echoed into her room. Knowing she would be unable to fall back asleep, she rubbed her eyes and threw off her covers in frustration.
When Ginny opened her bedroom door, Molly Weasley had stopped yelling. Instead, she could hear the clanking of plates in the kitchen accompanied by her brothers' complaints. She walked downstairs in her nightgown, still feeling half asleep, and stopped before she stepped around the corner to listen.
"They were starving him, Mum!" cried one of the twins.
"And you!" her mother yelled in response.
Curious as to who they were arguing about and why she hesitantly turned the corner to face her family.
Five pairs of eyes darted in Ginny's direction. As she scanned the room she suddenly realized that only four belonged to her family. The last pair were settled behind circular, black rimmed glasses that belonged to the only person in the room lacking bright orange hair.
A tiny squeal escaped her throat and Ginny found herself dashing back around the wall she came from.
"Ginny, my sister. She's been talking about you all summer," said Ron in a low voice.
The twins sniggered. "Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," laughed one of them.
A million thoughts a mile ran through Ginny's head as she leaned against the wall, listening to her brothers joke about her recent, and now very obvious, obsession with Harry Potter. She felt her face glow red hot with embarrassment. This was immediately followed by a grumble in her stomach, but she had no intention of eating breakfast with her family and the famous Harry Potter while tired and underdressed. She ran back up the stairs and into her room.
Feeling overwhelmed, she fell back onto her bed with a soft thud and stared up at the ceiling. A Quidditch poster featuring Gwenog Jones, Chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies, hung above her. Occasionally she would steal a quaffle and quickly pass it off to another player to score. Every time this happened, Ginny would anxiously run her fingers through the knots in her long hair, imagining herself in the poster instead. The thought of riding a broom, which she had only done a few times in the past, was enough to start her usual daydreaming.
A half hour passed before the motion made her arm ache and neck stiffen. She sighed and snatched the topmost issue of the Daily Prophet on her nightstand. A messy haired, dumbfounded Harry Potter stood on the front page. He tried to give a half-hearted wave to the reporters before stepping away. "Almost as if he walked right into my bloody kitchen," Ginny muttered to herself. Now Harry existed in more than just Ron's stories and the articles she read. He was no longer living in her imagination, but now socializing with her family like any other average boy, unaware that he was her greatest inspiration.
With him possibly living under their roof before they attended Hogwarts, Ginny felt a faint hope that her mother would smother Harry with protection instead of her. The boy seemed to have a talent for getting into trouble.
Still full of embarrassment and afraid she would be caught off guard again, Ginny took her time to dress, brush her hair, and attempt to look more accomplished than just an average soon-to-be 11-year-old girl. She needed to appear as if she was already a knowledgeable witch, even without a wand. It was one of her best shots of overcoming the intense protection and expectations of her parents. The better prepared they are, she thought, the easier it will be.
As she began to open her bedroom door, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs echoed throughout the hallway. Ginny's breathing hitched in her throat. She cracked open her door and peered out into the hallway.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes made contact with her own. Ginny quickly shut the door with a snap.
She could hear Ron from behind the door. "Ginny," he said as the two walked upstairs. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally-"
His voice trailed away up the staircase. Ginny could feel her stomach grumble with hunger, but she decided that starving to death sounded much more pleasant than dying of embarrassment.
Around a week into Harry's stay, Ginny woke feeling more anxious than ever. She realized that as her birthday and September 1st drew closer, her first Hogwarts letter would come in the post. The letter was something of a dream for her from a very young age.
Feeling a tired excitement towards the possibility of it arriving any day now, she dressed and went downstairs to meet her parents. They had already woken much earlier and started breakfast. "Morning, Mum. Morning, Dad," she yawned.
"Morning sweetheart," her mother replied. "You're awake early. Come grab your plate and some breakfast before your brothers get ahold of it."
Ginny reached beside her father for a clean dish. He paused scrubbing the pan he was holding and turned to smile at her. "Hope you're feeling well, Gin." She nodded in reply and smiled back, hoping her father's mood was a good sign.
She waited for her parents to finish cleaning and grab their own breakfast before she ate herself. They were all sitting together when Ron and Harry walked downstairs.
Suddenly she had forgotten she was in the middle of eating a spoonful of porridge. Like other times she saw Harry in the past week, she was so startled that her hand came down too hard and accidentally knocked over her bowl. Her face glowed bright red as she picked it up from under the table and tried to ignore the small spill it made on the floor.
No-one except Ron seemed to take notice of this. He let out a small snort, but quickly tried to pass it off as a cough.
The boys sat down at the table and reached for their own plates. Mrs. Weasley offered Harry a piece of toast, and Ron began to scoop up some eggs. Ginny tried to hide her face behind her hair when Mr. Weasley addressed them all.
"Letter from school," he said, handing Ginny her own before passing on two more to the boys. Harry looked perplexed. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry-" Mr. Weasley added. "Doesn't miss a trick, that man."
Fred and George arrived at the breakfast table, yawning and rubbing their eyes. They sat before their father waved their own letters in front of them. "You two've got them too."
Ginny sat for a moment while everyone else opened their letters. She stared at her own, feeling like the world slowed down around her. With a deep breath, she split the seal and unfolded its contents.
Dear Ms. Weasley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Ginny slowly read the first line of her acceptance letter over and over. A gradual excitement rose in her chest every time she did so. Once she was sure that the letter was for her and not her brothers, as noted by the 'Ms.', and that this wasn't a prank, she finally turned to the next page.
She read through the list of all the things she needed for her first year and gave a deep sigh. Being the youngest, she would end up with most of these things being secondhand from her brothers. There was no way of getting around it.
Before she could finish reading, Fred's voice broke the silence. "You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said to Harry. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."
"That lot won't come cheap. Lockhart's books are really expensive," George added. Ginny looked at her own list and cringed. She needed a set of Lockhart's books as well.
She looked at her mother who stiffened up. The word 'expensive' wasn't something the Weasley family liked to hear. Trying not to look worried, Mrs. Weasley quickly smiled. "Well, we'll manage. I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
As expected, Ginny thought to herself.
This drew Harry's attention towards her. "Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" he asked.
The sudden acknowledgment caught her off guard. She nodded absentmindedly and accidentally laid her elbow in the butter dish.
Before she realized what she had done, everyone in the room turned to see Percy walk in. He looked slightly more crisp and clean than normal, which must have been hard for someone who prided themselves on already being so, she thought. It was hard not to take notice of the shiny prefect badge pinned to his vest with the way he held his chest outward, looking full of himself. "Morning, all," he said. "Lovely day."
Rolling her eyes and looking back at her letter, Ginny realized her elbow felt wet. She tried not to draw attention from her family as she hurriedly cleaned off the butter. To her relief, everyone was distracted by the tattered gray owl that crashed into the kitchen. Errol, the family owl, had delivered a letter from Hermione that kept the conversation busy throughout breakfast.
Soon enough, Harry and her brothers left breakfast to play Quidditch up the hill, leaving Ginny at the table to finish reading her letter. What seemed like a never-ending list of expensive supplies left her feeling anxious enough. Once her eyes skimmed the bottom of the page, though, she was struck with an unhappiness she wasn't expecting.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK.
"What?" Ginny exclaimed, drawing the attention of her parents who were still at the table. "I can't even practice flying my first year?"
Mrs. Weasley began to leave the table. "We aren't having this conversation again, Ginny. I won't stand for it."
Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but Mr. Weasley interrupted. "There's a class the teaches you how to fly your first year. I know it's not the freedom you might've expected, but they let you use a school broom since you won't have one of your own." He lowered his voice after Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Your mother and I want you to be safe. I'm sorry if it feels unfair, but I promise you will have a good first year."
Patting Ginny's shoulder, he also stood and left the room. "Freedom," Ginny huffed to herself. As far as she was concerned, she could never be truly free being the only daughter of the Weasley family.
Hogwarts, the one place she expected to finally be rid of her parent's protections, had even worse restrictions than she knew. The closest she could get to independence was through flying, something she had never been allowed to do in her household. Every minute she spent in the air was a minute being more than just the Weasley daughter. At least at home she could sneak out and borrow her brothers' brooms whenever she wanted.
Maybe, she thought, Hogwarts won't be so great after all.