Ginny Weasley did not particularly like leaving the Burrow. She didn't like the way her brothers would always keep an eye on her and her parents' faces would have more lines. Not many people were ever out anyway, although sometimes her parents would tell tales of Diagon Alley bursting at the seams with people. But people are cautious now, they don't want to be caught out in the open.
Nobody wanted to be in the open if the worst should come to pass. Ginny didn't remember what it was like when Lord Voldemort ruled over his Death Eaters, but she knew what it was like to have him haunt the shadows. No one had seen him in about sixteen years, but no one thought he was dead. Instead he must have found something else to do, something else to concentrate on, and had put off conquering the Wizarding World for a time. Every now and then Death Eaters would attack somewhere and devastate the survivors as if to remind everyone that Lord Voldemort was still out there, but the Dark Lord didn't show himself.
So people hid and prepared for the real war to come. The Ministry had finally grown a backbone and was ready to fight a war of attrition, and they all hoped that Voldemort would conduct his war in the same manner so that they would be prepared. No one wanted to be unprepared when the Dark Lord emerged from his hiding place. They had erected two monuments in the center of Diagon Alley as a reminder of his power.
One tree was planted at the North end of the Alley and on the wall behind it all the names of the people who had died were written with their date of birth and date of death. On the South end there was only a wall with the names of those missing, but with the date of birth and the date they had disappeared. Ginny hated going to the South end because she hated to look at those names, all those hundreds of names, and see herself reflected in the black stone they were carved in to. Bill had told her the architect had modeled it after the Vietnam Memorial in the United States and she could see why it had been a good idea. But she didn't like looking at that wall no matter the reason why it looked the way it did.
One name in particular seemed to haunt her. It was a little boy who had probably died years ago, she'd found his father on the North Wall and his mother was listed below him on the South Wall with the same second date, but his name had always stuck with her. It was probably because he'd died so young, his parents had too. Or maybe it was because of the date he'd gone missing. Harry James Potter had been born on July 31st, 1980 and he'd gone missing on August 11th, 1981. He'd been a year old. She'd been born at the same time he had most likely died.
The first time her parents had taken her to each of the walls and explained what they meant she'd been seven years old and had barely understood what they were talking about. They'd said that the people whose names were written on the South Wall hadn't been seen since that second date and would probably never be seen again. But she hadn't been paying much attention.
Instead she took a few steps forward to trace the name that was at eye level before turning to face her parents again. "That's my birthday, Mummy. What was his name? How old was he?" she had asked and her Mummy had knelt on the ground next to her to read the name and dates, because she wasn't that good at reading or math yet, and had let out a little sob. "Mummy? Why are you crying?" Ginny hadn't meant to make her cry and she hadn't understood why she'd cried.
"Harry James Potter was a year and eleven days old when he went missing. When you were born," Molly told her and hugged Ginny so tightly that it had been hard to breathe. Her Daddy had looked sad too and had stroked her hair like he did every night when he said good night. "He must be your Guardian Angel, watching over you since you were born."
But Ginny hadn't believed her, even though her mummy knew almost everything. But she was wrong about Harry James Potter and Ginny knew it. "No Mummy, he can't be my Guardian Angel because he's not dead. I'm going to meet him one day, and I'm going to marry him."
Molly and Arthur had looked at each other with desperation in their eyes but didn't say anything that would disillusion their little girl. How did you explain uncertain death to a child? So Molly just embraced her and then pulled her away from the Wall and into a shop to begin their errands. Arthur held Ginny's hand as she walked between them, keeping a careful eye on the adventurous girl.
Now Ginny was sixteen years old and understood what it meant to be listed on the South Wall. It was considered to be an even worse fate than the North Wall and Ginny was inclined to agree. She always paused for a moment there and thought of Harry James Potter, wishing him well and imagining what he would look like now. She'd looked for a picture of him and his parents once, but had never been able to find one. So her picture of him in her head was blurry, like a lens out of focus.
Today she was not going to Diagon Alley, but to Kings Cross Station in London, to Platform 9 3/4 and the Hogwarts Express. Her Sixth Year and all she could think of was the fact that Harry James Potter should be starting his Seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Shaking her head she crawled out of her bed and dressed in the only clothes that she had not yet packed before stumbling down to the kitchen.
Her Mum and Dad were already there, Arthur reading the Daily Prophet and Molly putting the finishing touches on breakfast. Ginny greeted them with a nod, she'd never been much of a morning person, and spread her toast liberally with jam. She watched without comment as Ron stumbled into the kitchen, still looking half asleep, which, of course, did nothing to dent his enormous appetite.
Breakfast was silent with just the four of them and Ginny sorely missed her five other brothers, who were guaranteed to make any meal into an event. Then Ginny and Ron collected their trunks and Ron helped their father put them in the trunk of their old Ford Anglia while Ginny helped her mum pack lunches for them.
At the station her mum said her customary goodbyes and her father hugged her before releasing her to board the train, on time for once in her life. Ron followed her but quickly left to go find his best friend Neville Longbottom. Ginny continued until she found her own friends in a compartment at the end of the train.
"Ginny Weasley, are you awake?" Demelza demanded half way through the train ride. Ginny had been unusually silent that day and had hardly participated in their discussion about the Holyhead Harpies, something that was almost unheard of.
Ginny smiled at her in response. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night and my mind refuses to concentrate. Plus it feels as if some bloody wanker is playing the drums in my head."
The others laughed and resumed their conversation, satisfied with Ginny's response. Ginny, on the other hand, withdrew even further. The truth was that she had this feeling that something had happened, something that would change everything. Although it was true that her head hurt, but it wasn't like a normal headache.
No, it was as if someone had hit her in the head with a bludger and cracked her skull, as had happened to her last year in the game against Slytherin. Not only that but the rest of her ached as if it too had been battered. She thought she must be coming down with something but she didn't want to worry about it until she had to.
She slipped into an uncomfortable sleep soon after, filled with bright lights and screaming. By the time she woke the train was pulling into the station at Hogsmeade and she had to change into her robes. Ginny followed the throngs of students to the carriages blindly, her head hurt so much that it felt like she was dying.
Phantom voices called out to her, telling her to stay awake and that help was on the way. It was all she could do to make it through the feast and then her dorm before she passed out, fully dressed in her bed.
She woke suddenly in the middle of the night to the sound of someone cursing. The voice was male, which was surprising enough, but it also had an American accent, which was shocking. Gingerly she sat up and received the pleasant surprise that her body and her head no longer hurt. Holding her wand tightly she peered out of the bed curtains to see a tall boy looking around the room in amazement. The relief on his face was evident when he saw her, but she felt sickened when she got a good look at him.
He wore jeans and a jumper, but they were torn and dirty, stained with what looked like blood. His glasses hid dark eyes and his face was beginning to show a collection of nasty bruises and cuts. His hair was dark as well and messy, almost as much of a mess as the rest of him. She pointed her wand at him and he raised his hands to show they were empty.
"I'm not armed, I don't seem to have my wand. And I'm lost and I have no idea how I got here. Where is here, anyway?" he asked and Ginny nearly shivered at the pleasing familiarity of his voice.
"This is the Sixth Year Girls Dorm at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What's your name?" she returned, trying to keep her voice authoritative but slowly lowering her wand.
"Shit. This is Hogwarts? I'm in Europe. You've got to be freaking kidding me!" he exclaimed and she bit back a giggle, something decidedly not like her, at his reaction.
He continued his exclamations for a few moments before she interrupted him. "You haven't told me your name yet," she said pointedly.
"Oh, it's Harry. Harry Potter." Ginny stared at him in amazement, wondering who had put him up to this sick joke, and how they'd known about her fascination with Harry James Potter. When Ginny didn't answer the imposter his brow wrinkled in confusion. "Are you ok…? I'm sorry, what's your name?"
His question startled her from her thoughts and she answered frostily. "It's Ginny Weasley, as you well know you prat! What's your real name, and don't give me this Harry Potter nonsense, Harry Potter's been missing and presumed dead for sixteen years."
Now it was his turn to be startled if the wide eyed look he gave Ginny was any indication. "What do you mean missing and presumed dead? I can tell you where I've been-in America with my grandparents!" he exclaimed and sat down heavily, although he didn't make any sound while doing it.
"Harry Potter and his parents, Lily and James, were involved in the last attack ever made where You-Know-Who actually appeared. James Potter's body was found, but Harry and Lily Potter were never seen or heard from again," Ginny said, her tone fading from annoyed to concerned as his face became paler and paler. "Are you alright?"
Harry Potter looked her in the eyes, and she noticed for the first time that they were a clear emerald green, and she shivered at the pain she saw in them. Carefully, she climbed out of bed and knelt on the floor in front of him. She tried to place a hand on his right knee but her hand went right through it and they both gasped, eyes remaining locked together the entire time.
"You really are Harry James Potter, aren't you?" she asked and he snorted in response.
"No, I'm the Queen. Of course I am. What intelligent reason would I have to lie?"
"Alright. I believe you, but if you're not dead and you were in America, why are you here now?"
"All I can remember before waking up here is a car hitting mine and then an ambulance. Ginny, I think I'm dead. For real this time."
A/N: So I shouldn't be starting another story when I have two or three unfinished ones but this one is so much more fun to write. Plus I can't remember where the outlines for those other stories ended up... Oops? I hope all you readers get a kick out of my new story and the next update should come sometime next week. It would be sooner but finals start tomorrow and I've really got to start studying. See you all in chapter two!