"Chapter I - The Shift"

Feathery kisses were placed on cheeks and lips were smacked against each other. Giggles and giddy sighs were flying their way across every hallway. Couples everywhere snogged in the nooks of every corner and many of the teachers were having a hard time breaking them apart.

Ginny Weasley, hater of all that was love, huffed her way past the chaos that seemed to manifest itself in the main hallway. She pried off zooming hearts from her shoulders and shoved anyone that became an obstacle before her.

She spotted Hermione just a few meters away and she quickly sped up her pace, shouting, "Hermione! Hermione!"

Said girl spun around fiercely, her cheeks glowing.

Ginny caught up with her and threw her a questioning look. "What's gotten into you?" she asked curiously.

Hermione sighed heavily and Ginny tried her best not to roll her eyes. "Your brother's a dear, Gin," she stated, twirling a red rose in her right hand. "Although his brain cannot hold much significant information, he has still got an unbelievable way with words."

Ginny shut her eyes and groaned. "This insufferable plague has sucked you in, too!" she pointed out, throwing up her hands in defeat. "I'm going to go and stuff my face," she informed her best friend, "it's my own way of filling that void I'm feeling."

Dazed, Hermione absently nodded and trailed behind the furious red-head, eager to sit and daydream about the man who'd never let her go.

Ginny plopped herself into her seat and stared at the boy across from her. "Harry, whatever are you doing?" she inquired.

Lifting his head up and stopping all movement in his hands, Harry answered, "I'm trying to kill whatever animal was hidden in this card."

"Animal?" Hermione glanced at his hands and gasped. "Harry, stop it!" she ordered, grabbing the ball of fur and stroking it. "What's the matter with you!"

Harry's face twisted into disbelief. "What on earth are you doing, Hermione? That thing almost bit my arm off! I opened up the card and it attacked!"

Ginny snorted. "It's the size of my fist, Harry. I doubt something as tiny can devour you," she jeered, laughing heartily as she grabbed a slice of bread. "It's a Jiggershyff," Ginny informed him. "They're very common among forests and woodsy areas. Their bite isn't as deadly as their cuteness."

Hermione cooed softly. "Hi, there, fellow."

"Where's Ron?" asked Ginny, scanning the Great Hall for her brother. "I'm surprised he isn't reciting sonnets and singing ballads for his darling princess."

Hermione glared at her. "I resent that, Ginny. It's rather rude for you to be so blunt with me. You may hate Sweethearts Day, but I welcome it. Your brother must've spent a lot for this rose. It will never wilt, nor will it ever die. It's a Chantal Rose. It's charmed to be the most romantic rose in the wizarding world."

Feeling guilty and ashamed, Ginny threw Hermione an apologetic glance. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I just haven't been very happy lately. All these bloody couples and their incessant snogging is literally consuming me. If I see one more tongue shoved down one more throat, I might just-"

"Oh, Seamus," gushed Parvati Patil, throwing her arms around her boyfriend and kissing him senseless. The very smug and lucky boy wrapped his arms around her waist, his right hand somehow landing directly on her bottom.

Ginny tore her eyes away in disgusted horror. "I'm going to shoot myself. I really am. Honestly, is kissing your significant other in public necessary? I find it horribly frightening. My eyes are so tainted with these sexual charades that I might just go and find myself someone to snog with. I'm that influenced. It's sickening."

Giving her an odd look, Hermione placed her rose carefully on the table and folded her hands. "Pouting and complaining isn't going to help you, Ginny. Frankly, I'm irritated by your cynical sense and I doubt Harry is entertained by this petulant behavior. It's unmistakably similar to the situation in which Luna couldn't find herself a date to the ball. She driveled on and on about how useless and pointless love was, until she met Colin. Look at them now-" Hermione pointed to Luna and Colin, who were both snuggling up against each other at the Ravenclaw table. "They are very much in love and all negative thoughts towards love were quickly forgotten. Can you not follow that example?"

Harry nodded, opening his mouth to speak, "Yep. Shef righuh."

"That's nauseating, Harry. Close your mouth," ordered Ginny, picking up a napkin and flinging it at him. "You've got chicken all over your jumper. It's not attractive."

He looked up and glowered at her. "Well, I'm sorry, Miss Pessimistic," he mocked, wiping his mouth. "Is the food in my mouth that awful to see chewed up? It can't be as worse as hearing you grumble on and on. You're being daft and I'd rather not sit here and hear your relentless whining."

With that said, Harry stood up angrily, throwing the napkin violently back onto the table. He trudged away from her and Hermione, fuming.

"Happy, Gin?" Hermione inquired, filling her plate. "You've just succeeded in pissing Harry off. Good show, chap."

Refusing to reply, Ginny glimpsed across from her and spotted a red card, adorned with glitter and sequins. She picked it up hurriedly and opened it. She read:

Harry,

Enclosed I placed an animal that reflects the love I have for you. It's adorable, love. You'll thoroughly enjoy it. You'll receive it just before you read this. I hope it isn't so livid. It hissed at me just this morning for stuffing it into an envelope.

All my love.

"Who in the hell-"

Before Ginny could finish her sentence, a loud gasp was heard throughout the Great Hall.

"Ronald Weasley!" screeched Hermione. "What have you done!"

Dropping the card quickly, Ginny risked looking up and her eyes immediately widened at the sight of her brother. Ron's left eye sported a large purple bruise and the lip, which Hermione loved to nibble on, was cut in three different places. A patch of cuts ran down from his cheek and neck and by the time Ginny found her voice to talk, Ron spoke up.

"That blasted Malfoy thought it would funny to blacken your name with flimsy rumors," Ron explained. "I showed that bastard a thing or two."

Hermione growled deep in her throat and grabbed Ron by the arm, examining his injuries. "You're a fool, Ron. I've told you time and time again that fighting is not the answer. Malfoy will get what's coming to him."

"Mr. Weasley!" snapped Professor McGonagall, who appeared at the scene. She looked flustered as ever, probably because her students were always finding ways to get into trouble. "What has happened to you?"

Ron looked proud. "I beat the shit out of Draco Malfoy, Professor," he said pompously. "The git's lying somewhere in the Charms hallway as we speak."

"Think again, Weasley," drawled a cold voice from the front of the Hall.

Ginny stood up and peered at an equally, maybe more, injured boy. His blonde hair mussed up to one side and only one of his eyes was open. His very expensive collared shirt appeared to be burnt off at the bottom and one of his shoes was missing.

He was a walking mess.

"Ronald Weasley," Ginny hissed dangerously. "Mum specifically told you to cease with all this fighting. You don't even play fair!" she accused. "Seven galleons say that you used your wand in this muggle duel."

Ron blushed furiously. "Hey!" he defended.

In the blink of an eye, Malfoy whipped out his own wand and stated, "Valete Fantumine!"

Ron spun around and was thrown from one side of the room to the other, leaving Ginny and Hermione staring at Malfoy dumfounded.

Hermione seethed. "He thinks he can get away with anything, can he?" she whispered to herself, grasping her wand and directing it to him. "You leave him alone, Malfoy."

Malfoy chuckled. "What are you doing to do, Granger? Are you that courageous to go and break a rule? Consequences are mighty high. We don't want a nick in your record, now do we?"

What was that spell called? Hermione asked herself. Septimite Callome? Septimate Shallum?

Deciding to take the gamble and guard her boyfriend, Hermione yelled defiantly, "Semineate Hocklum!"

A large orb of dark red formed at the end of Hermione's wand and as it grew larger, time stilled around them in a whirlwind of frenzy. Ginny was in the process of taking out her wand, Snape was dashing down towards them, and Ron was yelling a string of profanity at Malfoy.

Hermione held her ground strongly, fighting the pit of weakness that tugged at her mind. Her arm was tired of holding on and the orb grew heavier and heavier. As if the orb knew what she was thinking, its weight lifted and it soon jetted to Malfoy at a lightning speed.

Just as it hit him, her vision went white and all she felt was her body being lifted off the ground and thrown onto something bouncy and soft.

Her mother once told her that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. That was the first moral she learned ever since she was born. Men were easy to capture once you've accomplished feeding them something that they'll want to eat for the rest of their lives.

At this point, Ginevra Weasley was dreaming about feeding a very attractive man a bowl of pudding. It was her favorite flavor; vanilla. It smelled of heaven and sweetness all wrapped in delightfulness.

"It's delicious, love," the stranger commented, opening his mouth for more.

Ginny giggled loudly. "It's my mum's recipe. She won't let me leave anywhere without it," she explained, leaning closer and sucking the dollop of pudding off his tongue. "I love you," she whispered, dropping the spoon and pouncing on him.

He groaned deeply and fell back into his chair, sending them toppling to the ground. His shirt somehow disappeared and her pants were no longer on.

"The spell, Gin," he panted, pulling away reaching for her wand.

Ginny opened her eyes in bliss and looked down at him. "Why would we need the spell? We're married, Dr-"

"Ginny!" interrupted a frantic voice. "Ginny, wake up! This isn't the time your vivid sex dreams!"

Ginny awoke with a start, her eyes crusty and her mouth watering. "What? Who? When?" she asked groggily, pushing tendrils of her hair back. Her eyes flew open and the first thing she spotted was a curly strand of her between her eyes. She stared at it in confusion. "My hair's curly?" she asked herself. "But, I don't remember charming it to curl."

"That's not the only problem," said a nervous voice. "Ginny, I don't think we're in the Gryffindor dorms. You're not bedding with me and I'm definitely not bedding with you. We're in two different years. How did we end up here? Where's Ron? Where's Harry?"

Hermione paced the floor hysterically, mumbling incoherent phrases and folding her shaking arms across her chest.

Fully conscious now, Ginny pushed the covers down and ran for the mirror in the corner of the room. She took one good look at herself and almost fainted at the spectacle.

Her short, straight hair was no longer in view. She clearly owned a mop of long, curly hair. Its color was not of that vapid red dye, but of a radiant scarlet. The light that peeked through the window caught the lighter highlights in her tresses. It reached just above her waist and even her figure was disfigured, or at least that's how she put it. Her slim shape was no longer just thin and straight, but curvier and much more filling. Her hips stood out more and her chest, well, it was so supple, Ginny thought she'd be able to milk it right then and there. She was wearing nothing but a nightgown, that didn't really cover much on her body. It consisted of lace and sheer material, showing Ginny's obvious features.

"Ginny?" Hermione snapped, disregarding the other sleeping girls in the room. "Are you even listening to me? Bloody hell, we have to get back to our dorms! I'm worried about Ronald and I don't want Harry to stay mad at you!"

"Look in the mirror, Hermione," Ginny demanded softly, fiddling with her clothing. "Look at your reflection and tell me that I'm still sane."

Puzzled, Hermione leisurely sauntered over to her friend and faced the mirror. Her reaction was just as stunned and surprised as Ginny's, but her mirror image, it was exceedingly different. Gone was the bushy, short hair of the famed Head Girl. Instead, atop her head, lay a streaming length of straight locks. The bland shade of brown grew different shades of chocolate, each accenting different parts of her features. Her height had been accentuated a few extra inches and the chest that she once cursed blossomed tremendously.

Sweet Circe, she cursed, I'm actually attractive.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed, "I'm starting to think that we're still fixed in a dream."

Ginny pinched her arm lightly and winced. "It's no dream, Hermione. This is real. This is reality."

"You mind doing us all a favor and shutting the hell up?" spat an irate voice. "We've got class in twenty minutes. What are you two cows doing up?"

Both young women spun around and faced a very angry and very red Millicent Bullstrode. Her usual black hair was spun into a bun and her dark eyes glared at them sternly.

Not knowing how to respond or act, Hermione simply nodded and grabbed two robes that were dangling off what she guess was her desk. "We'll just be taking a walk," she explained, smiling weakly.

Hermione handed Ginny the other robe and they quickly put them on, ignoring Millicent's wandering eyes and curious stares.

Ginny looked down at her robes and sighed in relief. The crest on her breast-pocket was still that of Gryffindor. What caught her eye was the badge next to it. "Merlin, Hermione," she whispered, "I'm a bloody prefect!"

Hermione's eyes dashed to the shining brooch. "Come on. Let's go take a walk around the lake. We'll figure this thing out."

Swallowing hard and breathing heavily, Ginny trailed behind Hermione and ran down the steps, past a few students. They sprinted out the portrait door, through the halls, and out into the yard. Hermione looked up at the sun and shut her eyes, stating softly, "A world without the sun isn't a world at all. Count your blessings when the bright rays appear on your face."

"A muggle saying?" Ginny asked, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder in reassurance. "What are we going to do?"

Pursing her lips in determination, Hermione turned to Ginny and opened her mouth to speak-

"Ginny! Hermione!"

Hoping for a familiar face, both girls turned.

"Bloody fuck," Ginny cursed, unable to control her emotions.

Pansy Parkinson, in all her glory, came running towards them, her long, blonde hair shadowing behind her. Her face was set in a smile and she was waving a paper in her hand enthusiastically. "You can't believe what happened! You got in, Gin! You got in!"

Finally reaching them, Pansy threw her body onto Ginny and wrapped her in a huge embrace. "We've waited so long and now we've got it! I can't believe it myself, Ginny! Isn't this just perfect?" Pansy pulled back and beamed at them.

They simply stood there speechless.

Pansy seemed irked by their odd behavior. "You chits alright, there? Hermione, aren't you the least bit joyful for Ginny? You were there with us when we filled out the application. This is an opportunity for her to further her learning with Potions."

Ginny gaped at her. "Potions? Are you bloody kidding me?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Pansy looked taken back. "Christ, Ginny. Do you want to calm down a bit? What's gotten into you two? Well, just yesterday you were awaiting this letter and now we've finally got it. Ginny, you were accepted," she informed slowly.

"Accepted where?" Hermione asked, leaning in to huddle with the girls.

"Have you lost your mind?" inquired Pansy, astounded to the core. "Ginny's been accepted into Beauxbatons, of course."

"Why on earth would I ever apply there?"

If Pansy could be anymore flabbergasted, her heart would stop. "Are you sure you're Ginevra Weasley?"

"Are you even sure you're Pansy Parkinson?" retorted Hermione.

Too immersed in the fact that Ginny was accepted and desiring to know what else had occurred, both girls ignored the plan to find their way home and requested as much information as possible.

"Why would I apply there?"

"What'd she apply for?"

"Who's in charge of this?"

"Do you know when she's going to attend?"

"Why are you being so nice?"

"Have you lost you're mind?"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Pansy ordered, putting up both her hands for an effect. "What's going on here? You guys are beginning to scare me! Will you please fill me in on your incredibly unusual conduct while we go to breakfast?

On the hunt for needed data, Ginny nodded hastily and bolted just next to Pansy, snatching the letter from her hands and reading it herself. "Miss Weasley - blah, blah, blah – I'm very happy to inform you of your acceptance to Beauxbatons for our accelerated Potions program. We hope to hear from you in the next week for accommodations, administration, and your first tour."

Hermione filched the letter from Ginny's hand and scanned the page. "This is an official letter, Ginny," she stated, "It's got the French stamp and everything."

Pansy snorted. "What did you both expect? A phony note? I highly doubt that. Ginny did marvelous on her application essay. I almost broke down in tears when I read it," she teased, throwing them a smile.

Overcome with alarm and overwhelmed with their current circumstances, Ginny disregarded the fact that Pansy Parkinson, spawn of the devil, was actually joking around with them.

Her hair whipped around her face randomly and Ginny growled in frustration, flitting it away from her eyes. "I hate this hair," she snarled.

They entered the Great Hall and the first task Hermione performed was finding Ron and Harry. She slowly walked behind Pansy and Ginny, her head turning left and right, her eyes inspecting every inch of the Gryffindor table. "Where are they?" she asked herself.

"Come on, Hermione," Pansy chirped, pointing to the end of the table. "Millie and Luna are waiting for us."

"Bullstrode and Luna are waiting for us," Hermione mimicked, her brain swirling. "Bullstrode and Luna? Are you sure you're not going mad, Parkinson? Do you have a fever?" Hermione touched a hand to her own forehead. "Maybe it's me with the bloody fever."

"Fever? Hermione, you're really kidding with me, aren't you? Why do you keep referring to Millie and me by our surnames?"

Ginny expressionlessly sat down, incapable of showing anything but pure, unadulterated blankness. Everything happened so fast, that her mind stopped all functioning. "I think I'm going to die," she muttered.

"Millie," Pansy acknowledged, "Luna, Mione and Gin are a bit out of it today." She spared them a glance. "I think they're keeping things from us," Pansy whispered, giggling.

"When have we known Parkinson to actually giggle?" Ginny asked Hermione, staring at Pansy as if she was a Slytherin; technically, she was.

"At this point, Ginny," Hermione voiced, "I'm more set on finding Ron and Harry. I don't see them anywhere."

"What are you two bints whispering about?" Luna asked, lifting her fork and eating her apple pie.

"They should be here, Hermione!" Ginny protested, ignoring everything Luna said, "They're bloody Ron and Harry!"

Millie looked confused. "Ron and Harry? Why the hell would you even bother looking for those two pr-"

"Excuse me, students," Dumbledore announced, gaining all the attention of everyone in the room. "All Seventh Year students please follow Professor Snape out of the Great Hall and outside. The assembly will begin in a few moments."

Cheers erupted in the hallway and every seventh year student stood up hastily and jetted out of the Great Hall, gleeful at the thought of missing their classes that day.

Hermione threw Ginny a panicked look. "I can't leave you," she whispered, being tugged away by a very excited Millie. "Bloody hell, Bullstrode, if you heave harder I won't have connected limbs!"

Ginny stayed sitting, watching as her classmates depart the room, leaving her to wallow in alarm.

Pansy spun around and addressed her. "Ginny? Earth to Ginny? What are you doing? Get up. We've got to go. We don't want all those horrid Slytherins getting the best seats, do we?"

Before Ginny could retort, Pansy lugged her by the elbow and dragged her down the aisle, along with the other seventh years. "You can't keep straying away. I feel like you've developed some type of memory loss." Pansy halted and stared at her. "Have you been dabbling in Potions again? I know you're a master in that area, but I've told you, repeatedly, to stop with that! It can be dangerous!"

"Um …" Ginny trailed off, looking around to find Hermione. "Where are we going?"

"To the assembly," Pansy replied, proceeding to haul Ginny across the room.

They finally reached the Great Hall's entrance, where a mob of students loitered. They were each being seated individually, to avoid chaos. The teachers thought this to be a good plan; the students thought this to be a horrible plan.

"Ginny!" Hermione screeched, pulling out of Millie's grasp and pushing Luna out of the way. "What are you doing? They said seventh years!"

Pansy snorted. "What other year would Ginny be in? She's in our class, Mione. Are you sure you're okay? Did you want to eat something?"

The concerned glint in Pansy's eyes was back again; it made Ginny shudder.

"Harry, please, I would never touch that!" boasted a voice, undeniably recognizable.

Hermione and Ginny gave each other one look and ran towards that voice. "She's not even attractive and that hair! Bloody hell, you can spot it from a mile away!"

"Ronald!" Hermione bellowed, out of breath. "We've g-got to talk to you!"

Ginny looked joyous at the sight of her brother. "Thank Merlin!" she praised. "Ron, what's going on? Hermione and I woke up this morning and-"

"Weasley, what are you contriving now?" Ron spat, crossing his arms. "Oh," he realized, "you're at that insurgent phase again, aren't you?"

Hermione looked scandalized. "Ronald, how dare you!" she scolded, swatting his shoulder.

He glared at the spot as if she burned him. "Watch the robes, Granger," he sneered, "they were costly. I wouldn't want to have to inquire a Mudblood to repay the damage."

"What?" breathed Hermione, her heart racing. "What did you call me?"

"You heard him, Mudblood," snarled another voice; another familiar voice.

Ginny spun around and faced the man she thought she would marry; the man with gorgeous emerald eyes and messy, dark hair. "Harry," she recognized.

His gaze fixated upon her. "Weasley, kindly exit yourself out of my way," he grinned smugly, "and my airspace."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Granger and Weasley would actually muster up the courage to approach us," commented a very haughty Draco Malfoy.

At least some things never change, Ginny thought angrily.

His usual demeanor did nothing for Ginny. He was still the same, spoilt and cruel boy she has ever known. His eyes held their usual superiority and his stance mirrored everything megalomania.

He remained unperturbed under Ginny's cold gaze. "Ogling at things you know you'll never fetch is something only Weaselys do," he spat callously, pursing his lips in disgust.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, tranquil. "Insulting those who are above you and your murdering family is something only Malfoys do," she retorted, flipping her hair back. "And, mind you, they do it rather well, considering that the only trash I see and smell is you."

"What happened to you?" Hermione questioned gently, staring at Ron with sadness.

He simply smirked at her and nodded for his posse to head for the door. "We're being assigned seating," he informed them. He glanced Hermione up and down and stated, "Slytherins always go first. They're void of Mudbloods," he then looked at Ginny, "and Muggle-lovers."

"See you later, Granger," Theodore Nott said silkily, giving Hermione a wink. He licked his lips at Ginny and proceeded to the door behind his friends.

Incredulous, Ginny twirled to Hermione, ready to give her a piece of her mind. "I cannot believe this! What dimension would ever be-"

Ginny stared at her best friend and felt her bravery crumble.

In only a matter of seconds, a single tear cascaded down Ginny's cheek and landed directly on her Prefect's badge.

Pansy appeared next to them. "They're ready for us! Come on, girls, let's-" She eyed both her friends and took a deep inhale.

She immediately seized Hermione and Ginny and stalked out of the hall and into the corridors, not questioning and not speaking at all. All that was heard was heavy breathing, quiet sobs, and the desperation in Pansy's footsteps.