AUTHOR'S NOTE: eyes pop open, rises stiffly and shakes off layers off dust and dust-spawn from hell AM NOT DEAD! Not that anyone cares. But, for my own 1 a.m. Thursday-night-with-homework-in-morning amusement, we'll pretend I have an active, listening, interested audience. So, was looking over previous writings and noticed small detail of...I SUCK MAJOR POOL BALLS! Never realized how stupid I sounded. Was going to write with new-gounf skills, but got side-tracked for a few months. Was becoming sophomore and being in International program and being on newspaper staff and writing two novels (neither complete) and trying to figure way into art gallery without paying manditory $100. Is overpriced. So, this is fun...two hundred pages long and I haven't even gotten to the climax! So, I'll be updating sporadically and in large increments. Reviews are always appreaciated.

NOTE: need help with better title. May not use suggestions, may not get suggestions, whatever.

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, not mine if it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

The Hogwarts Renaissance

Chapter One: The Deal

"Sir, with all due respect, are you insane?"

Ginny Weasley immediately clapped a contrite hand over her mouth, trying to catch the words that had already escaped her lips. Her fearful brown gaze met that of another kind, a glinting pair of light blue eyes that seemed to see right through her.

"Sir, I apologize, I had no right to-" Dumbledore, the illustrious Headmaster at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry held up a thin hand to silence her. "There is no need, Miss Weasley. I realize that though an excellent student, you have certain tendencies that lie in your blood that render you ever so much like your dear, temperate brother, Mr. Ronald Weasley. Therefore, your outburst was expected and has been forgiven. As to the question itself, there have been many who have suggested I'm not quite all there upstairs…" he cocked his head to the side as she fixed her disbelieving gaze on him. "…however, this is not the time for that." He finished, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny shook her head slowly, not so much disagreeing with him as she was trying to clear the thoughts that muddled her overloaded mind. "But sir…I just can't. I mean…I'm only sixteen! How could you entrust such a critical responsibility in the hands of an adolescent who barely understands why she does half the things she does? Sir, it's just not a wise decision, if I'm not too bold to say…" she trailed off, feeling color rise to her already dusky cheeks, threatening to match the bright red color of her hair.

Dumbledore simply chuckled merrily. "You know, that is exactly what Professor Snape said when I told him of my intentions. Which just goes to show why this is possible. Aside from the fact that you're the brightest witch of your year, second in Gryffindor only to Miss Granger, you're also the most mature young witch I've ever had the pleasure to house in this foundation. Your maturity, as well as your natural instincts and motherly nature are exactly why I chose you for this particular assignment."

Ginny felt her head reeling. I can't. I just can't. Can I? No, Ron would kill me. Harry and Hermione would kill me. MUM would kill me. I just can't. I just can't. But, I could. Oh, but I could. Damn the man. How does he know that's what I want? What I need? Damn him!

She finally turned a steady gaze up at the expectant Headmaster who was grinning knowingly at her. "Sir…I just don't know. I mean…really. It's just so big…I don't know if I can handle it…what about my classes?" she pleaded, half-wanting him to find an excuse not to pressure her with this.

Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "As I've already mentioned, you are one of the brightest witches I've ever had. Even without this situation, we would have invited you to move up a year in your classes. We extended the offer to Miss Granger in her sixth year as well, but she preferred to stay with her classmates, as is understandable. As it is, if you accept this assignment, you would attend half your classes, the more important ones such as Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, etc, mostly the morning ones, as usual. As to the rest of your classes, you would have weekly tests and quizzes to test your abilities to make sure you can handle this. We've arranged it all. You would have tutoring classes by a seventh year student on weekends, in the privacy of your own rooms."

He gave her a hard glance. "I know that this would be no easy task. It would restrict your free time. You would no longer have such leisure time on the weekends. However, your workload would be tremendously reduced. We would give you a Time-Turner, but unfortunately, Fudge has banned their use after a rather bizarre incident in your second year…" he trailed off, the corner of his mouth quirking in a half-grin.

Ginny stared down at her clasped hands. Of course she had had nothing to do all summer long, what with the twins off at their shop in Hogsmeade, and Ron, Harry and Hermione staying with their former teacher Professor Lupin for the summer term. So she had learned all her work for the year, her sixth year. She had read all her books, and even practiced a few minor spells under a Concealment Cloak, a recent invention of Fred and George's which allowed the (underage) user to perform magic without detection. A rather ingenious idea…

Ginny knew that if she had to, she could probably take the seventh year classes and pass them right now. But she wasn't sure if she wanted to do this. After all, it was for someone she really didn't like (she never hated anyone, but that girl was rather spiteful).

She sat there, for a long time. She had been so confused when Dumbledore had called her up to his office, and on the first night of school no less! She hadn't had time to do anything wrong. Not like she did anything wrong anyways…or if she did, she never got caught…

What right did the man have to ask her to do this? He had to know that though she may not like it, she couldn't refuse in the end. Of course he knew. Behind his words of flattery, that was the reason he'd asked her, of all people. Because she was the type who couldn't say no to something like that.

And eventually, Ginny's red head rose, her eyes meeting Dumbledore's. Her lips were dry as she pushed the heavy words through them.

"Fine."