Here is a Ginny focased chapter. I don't know why I picked Ginny, I could have picked any one but Ginny just seemed right. Harry has disappeared and no one knows why. Ginny is tired of everyone fretting over him and just wants to escape.

JKR so owns the characters...I so own the Fantasy that I create!

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I'm tired of this world. It's the same day to day. Wouldn't it be great to just let go? Create your own world?

Ginny hadn't come out of her room all summer. Molly would bring her dinner upstairs, and Ginny wouldn't eat much of it. She just sat at her desk with a large sketch book, oil pastels, and her wand.

It all started when Harry disappeared. No one knew where Harry is and, to be honest, they were worried. Ginny didn't know how to act, or react to Harry's disappearance. It broke her heart, after all they had been an item for a while.

Ginny snuck out of the house one night and found herself in a muggle village. She browsed the windows, hoping to be the heroine to find Harry. Maybe he had simply disappeared into his own world, the world he knew not knowing if he could make it without Dumbledore by his side. One shop caught her eye. There was a display of artists' beautiful paintings. They were simple things from fantasy to wide open spaces but they captivated her. Under the array of canvas there was a banner which read The Magic of Creating Your Own World. The thought intrigued her. Her own world. No one to worry about. No more Harry, Ron, or Hermione. No Mum telling her to do one thing or another. If only she could have her own world.

"Well hello there little lady," An older man came out of the store. "Ya interested in creatin' your own world?"

Ginny nodded. She just wanted to get away. Why else would she sneak out?

"Oh good. Well come on in. I just got a new shipment and for a promising talent like yourself, I'll give you a discount." He waved her into the store and she followed. It smelt horribly like wet paint and paint remover. She browsed around the store looking at all the little trinkets that were for sale, paint brushes, palletes, paints, colored glass, mosaic tiles. "Here you go m' dear!" He held a sketch book. It was as large as a desk. In his other hand, he held a set of oil pastels.

"What if I'm not any good?" Ginny asked taking the materials.

"That's what most artists say. Remember. It's all a matter of point of view." He smiled at her as he began to ring her up.

"I'm not so sure about this." She said looking at them.

"Tell you what. You fill this sketch book and bring it back. I'll refund your money." Ginny nodded handing him a Sickle.

"Is this pure silver?" His eyes bugged out at her.

"Yes sir. Is that a problem?" Ginny asked, slightly skeptical.

"No ma'am. Alright, here you go little miss." Ginny took the bag and smiled. She disappeared out the door.
"What am I doing?" She asked the night sky. "Why did I even come out here?"

Go get a magic artists book. A voice told her. She questioned it. You can't trust voices you hear in your head, but this particular voice seemed trust worthy. She went home, planning on going to Diagon's Alley the next morning.

"Mum, I need to go to Diagon's Alley. Personal reasons, you know." Molly nodded.

"I don't have time to take you." She said shoveling the remaining oatmeal into the sink.

"That's alright." Ginny said. "I'm a big girl. I'm a sixth year, you can trust me." With a deep sigh Molly agreed. The journey was quick. She didn't waste any time looking for the right book, she picked up the biggest one and brought it home.

"Did everything go alright?" Molly asked. Ginny mumbled a reply and ran to her room.

She brought the plastic bag from under her bed and laid it on her desk. She felt professional. She opened the book and skipped through the pages. All of them were blank. I bought a book with nothing on the pages? The last pages said. Keep your wand near your creation. If need be, wave your wand over the paper and it will solve your creative problems. Ginny closed it with a sigh. She flipped the sketch book open and opened her pastels. She didn't know where to begin so she waved her wand over it and the paper began to move, stopping blank. She picked up a green pastel and scribbled across the paper. The whole page turned green waiting patiently for her next burst of inspiration.

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Alright, I know this first chapter is kinda weak but I have the stomach flu and can't seem to concentrate on one thing for too long. But it will get better, I swear. I just need to "wait patiently for her next burst of inspiration." Help with the inspiration...please!