I definitely warped canon here *hehe*

James lent the Weasleys a lot of money, and that will come into play... next chapter! *Grins*

J.K. Rowling is a billionaire. She's like, awesome. She owns this *gestures to story* okay, except for the plotline. And Joey. Actually, I'd rather she have Joey because he's a selfish, egoistic, high-on-fame asshole. Anyways. I don't own the Harry Potter Franchise. That's J.K Rowling's.

It's Ginny Weasley's eighth birthday. She is absolutely ecstastic. The Boy-Who-Lived- Joey Potter!- would attend her, Ginny Weasley's, birthday party. They're going to have other guests too, like Sirius and Remus and Tonks and such. But the Boy-Who-Lived is Ginny Weasley's main priority. She wants her Fairytale Ending.

She knows how it will all play out. The redheaded boy will walk into the room. His eyes will meet hers. He'll rush across the room and, with a confident flash of his white-toothed grin, will give her his present. "Ginevra," he'll whisper, "thank you for inviting me." He'll kiss her hand, and Ginny will probably faint because alas! The Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, Saviour of the Wizarding World, just KISSED HER HAND. Lips made contact with skin. Bloody hell.

Ahem! No time for being like a tomboy, she reminds herself. She must keep on fantasizing. Now where was she... ah yes. The moment that he sees her... it'll be true love. All the books say that Joey will sweep his girl off her feet. Why can't it be her? After all, she's one of the Weasleys, a wealthy pureblooded family.

Although maybe they'll be best friends first. That might be better. Even Ron hasn't gotten his first kiss yet- even on the hand. Maybe they can just be friends first. Yes. They'll instantly connect, just like that. They'll chat and maybe she can even have a go on his new Nimbus eight-thousand. And then- THEN in like five years or something- they can fall in love.

It, of course, doesn't go like that.

The minute they Floo over, she knows- but instead of strategically placed in a chair looking sweet and kind and best-friend-material in her green floral print dress, she's upstairs trying to make her bed properly (WHY didn't she do that before?) and she's not even in the dress (bloody. frigging. hell. She should have been dressed an HOUR ago.).

She knows because there is a surprised squeal from her mother. And some coughing from someone unused to Floo Travel. That cough is so sweet and delicate. It's probably Joey's. He would have an adorable little cough, if he was fragile and sweet and sensitive. Not like Charlie's, who always sounds like he's hacking up a lung from the dragon dust in Romania.

Ginny scrambles into the dress and puts on the soft white flats Mum gave her. She steps out into the hallway, locking the door- if Joey sees this, she'll never live it down. Then she runs downstairs, skidding a little and tripping over the last step, catching herself on the railing.

Then she stares.

She thought he'd be muscled and buff and handsome- the strong-and-silent type Mum's romantic Love Triangle novels talk about, or maybe thin and sweet and delicate like Da. In any case, she'd thought that he would be beautiful. Or whatever.

First thought: Who is that ugly, fat whale?

Then she realizes and her hand flies to her mouth. "Bloody-"

Mum gives her that look and Ginny shuts up. She does not want to incur the Wrath of Molly Weasley and Her Great And Legendary Scoldings for a couple of swears. (Or, for short, WOMWAHGALS, coined by, who else, Fred and George.)

"Um, hi. Nice to, er, meet you."

Joey clumsily winks at her. Was that supposed to be coy or what?

"M'Lady Ginvra." He waddles over and winks right in her face. Okay, did Voldie's curse addle the Boy Who Lived's brains? That would definitely explain a lot. Like the winking.

"Um, it's Ginny. And if you insist upon saying Ginevra, it's GIN-EVRA. Not Gin-vra."

Joey smiles and slings his arm around her shoulders. She shrugs it off. "I'm um. I'm fine. I just met you, you uh, shouldn't like, put your arm around my shoulder's it's... improper according to Wizarding Customs..." She can't believe she actually wanted this five minutes ago.

The BWL (is he always like this, she wonders) just laughs. God, who invented that laugh? It sounds like a donkey braying. "Aye, My Lady Gin-Gin."

She gapes. Gin-Gin? No. He didn't.

Ginny clenches her fists. Grits her teeth. "Please, Chosen One, call me Ginny. Not Ginvra. Not Gin-Gin. Not even Ginevra. JUST GINNY."

He winks again at her, clumsily, and waddles back to his parents. Blimey, they must have done something really wrong with parenting him, if he turned out like... this.

The adults disperse and Joey notices the food. She sighs, all her hopes disintergrating, turning away, and then-

And then she notices him.

He's thin- really, scrawny. And tall, too. He has a shock of black hair and big green eyes surrounded by pale gold glasses that were Spellotaped together. His eyes were kind. Broken, but sympathetic and kind.

Something was wrong.

"Who are you?" She asks politely. He stiffens. Ginny bites her lip. "Oh, Merlin! Am I supposed to know you? I'm truly sorry... I just wanted to know. Really, I am sorry!" She blathers on, her Weasley blush reddening as she goes on.

He places a finger to his lips. She falls silent and the noticeable scarlet blush begins to spread to her ears. "Quiet. Calm down, Miss Weasley," he smiles. "It's alright. It's just..." he looked down at his shoes and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

"I get that alot." Ginny's brow furrows.

"You should not! No one should! It isn't right. You should be known as who you are, not just as- oh." She looks down at her flats. "It's because you're his brother."

His sad smile becomes sadder and he clears his throat. "I don't usually get apologies, though," He offers. "It makes you different. In the best way."

Ginny laughs and grabs his hand, running up the stairs. "I never cease to please, Mr. Potter." She looks over at him again. "I'm assuming you're a Potter a) you came with them and b) because you still haven't told me your name." She nudges his shoulder. "Hint hint."

He laughs. A clear, high sound, like bells ringing in the church a few miles from the Burrow, in Ottery St. Catchpole. "I'm Harry Remus Potter. The boy you just saw is my twin, Joey- named after my dad. His full name is James, but eveyone calls him Joey because.. well, actually, I don't know. James 'Joey' Frank Potter." Harry grins. "I guess you already knew that by the way your face dropped when you saw that he is actually a giant, ugly, disgusting old coot."

Ginny gasps indignantly. "My face did not drop."

"Did too!" Harry laughs at her huff, but then his face becomes serious. "Can we, like... talk? In your room?"

Ginny nods. "Of course, why?"

He grabs her bicep- gently, because Harry, at least, is a gentleman, and why is she thinking that she just met him. That type of thinking is what got her into Joey, and that is not a good thing. (But Harry's acting gentlemanly, she's seen it firsthand...)

They reach her room, and Harry murmurs a word and flicks his wrist- Alherma, she thinks- and her door pops open.

But- she locked it. And- oh. Bloody hell.

"You just did magic!" She hisses. "That's- that's against the law. You haven't even gone to Hogwarts yet, you shouldn't know this stuff even! And don't tell me that was accidental. Because I SAW you with your wrist. And I heard you say an incantation."

Harry smirks. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Ginny."

He clears his throat. "In there." He points.

She huffs. Harry's been nothing but kind. He's funny and he looks like the boy on the cover of a Muggle fairytale book Mum bought her. He's been nothing but a gentleman to her, and that's what stops her from telling her mother or his father or vice versa about it.

Harry closes the curtains. He checks outside her door, twice, and locks it. Then he looks out the windows, twice each, locks them, tests them, and closes the curtains. Ginny just curls up on the couch, propping her cheek up in one hand.

"Okay, Ginny," He starts. "Have you heard of wandless magic?"

She checks her memory. Da and Mum mentioned that Dumbledore could do it. That's it.

"Dumbledore can do it, I know that," she says slowly. "But I don't know anything else."

Harry nods. "Yeah. Wandless magic is exactly what it sounds like. No wand- or any other sort of conductor, like a staff. Just your hand. When you've got nothing to do, not Quidditch or anything, your father and your mum forget it's your birthday too, you can fly only at night because your brother would beat you up and then you'd get a fierce scolding about how Joey is going to go through all this pain and suffering and hurt and you're his brother, you'll be fine, Voldemort won't even notice you because you're not the great Joey Potter, Chosen One, and knowing that the one person you want not to notice you will anyways-"

He inhaled sharply. "You tend to turn to magic. To books. To things that give you comfort. And I... I started working on it. I do simple spells, but I can do them wandlessly. With my own play wand, and practice, I got good. Really good. And then I just channeled the magic through my fingers. I was trained by our babysitter and nanny, Anya, for a few months. She got fired last week because she spent too much time with me. But she said, before she left... she said that you should join me. Anya's a Seer, and she's met you, and she knew I would meet you, so she thought that the best option- because you always find out, in the realities she can see, and in one of her visions you tell and I get locked up in Azkaban and Voldemort takes over- so she thought it would be better if we trained together. If we were a team."

Ginny puts her hand to her mouth. It's a good idea. Harry is really smart. She thinks of being the best- being better than Ron and Charlie and the twins and Percy and Bill's little sweet, innocent sister. Of being better than that. And it would be harmless. A few more OWLs and NEWTs, a better job. And no one will ever know.

Yet she can sense, if she says yes, something will change. Maybe good. Maybe bad. But some balance will be tipped, and she's not sure which way it will go.

But Ginny Weasley knows she wants it to tip.

"Okay," she says. "I'll practice with you."

And even if it is a bad decision, Harry's grin makes it more than worth it to her. He takes out a spellbook and a neutral training wand meant to be used to test spells. "Okay. So we're going to start with the levitating Charm, Wingardium Leviosa. The wand movement is a swish and flick. There you go, swish and flick!"

And so it began. They had no idea what effect this would make on the world, on their lives and countless others.

It would last for five sweet, blissful months of playdates and training. And then it would open up something they never thought they'd find.

The scales were tipped. Now it was just a matter of determining which side was evil. And which wasn't.