A/N: I'm enjoying writing this, hope you're having as much fun reading it. As ever, reviews would be appreciated, let me know where I'm going wrong.


It was one advantage of being a teacher, having the morning post delivered straight to her quarters instead of receiving it under the scrutiny of everyone in the Great Hall. Minerva remembered vividly one occasion, a few years previously, when Sybil Trelawney had confused the owl delivering her letters by making one of her spasmodic appearances for breakfast. The owl had swooped in with a Howler courtesy of the parents of the latest student she had condemned to a painful death and split open in front of the entire student body. Needless to say, Sybil didn't stop by for breakfast again after that. That experience was why Minerva always waited, without fail, for the post before proceeding to the Great Hall.

Among the parchments she unwrapped this morning was a note from Molly Weasley questioning the welfare of her daughter. It ran:

Minerva, I know it's the beginning of term and you're obviously

busy but I just wondered if Ginny had settled back in easily.

I was worried that last year might have… Well, I was just concerned.

Apologies for wasting your time. Molly Weasley.

Minerva sighed, pushing her spectacles further up her nose. Of course, it was understandable for Molly to worry about Ginny considering the horrific events of the preceding year but Minerva's problem was that she could not truthfully answer in the affirmative.

In no way did she believe the young girl's excuses of the previous evening. Apart from anything she had seen her during the feast, withdrawn and not at all interested in academic study- wherever she had disappeared to when she fled the Great Hall it was most certainly not the library. Which, of course, begged the question of where she had actually been and why she felt the need to lie about it.

Having always felt a friendly affection for Molly, Minerva was loathe to owl back a response that might shatter her calm but she was as equally repulsed by the notion of being deceitful. It was not in her nature nor was it something she wished to start practicing. Deciding to wait until the evening before replying to the query she left for breakfast.


There was no mistaking it- she was being watched. Pushing her food around on her plate Ginny squirmed under the unwanted attention. What was most infuriating was that she daren't put her head up to see who was watching for fear of being caught looking at… Well, people. It was a frustrating situation.

Finally though she could look upwards on the pretext of seeing if any of the morning post was destined for her. It wasn't; however, as she returned her gaze to her plate she caught Professor McGonagall's eye and her throat constricted. So that was it.

She had thought herself pretty lucky the previous night; for McGonagall not to see through her had been quite an achievement. But from the way she was observing her it was plain the Professor had merely been playing along. Truly, she wasn't certain why she didn't want to be near people; she couldn't stand the suffocation and the feeling that she might say something irreversible was a constant worry. Determined not to meet McGonagall's eye again Ginny glanced down the table only to see Hermione hastily looking away. That was all she needed.


'McGonagall's handing out the timetables,' Ron said, elbowing her in the ribs. 'Thought you'd be desperate to see it.'

Having been rudely pulled from her Ginny-related thoughts, Hermione ignored his comment, instead waiting for the Transfiguration professor to reach their section of the table. Ron and Harry took their timetables with the same doomed look on their faces but Hermione smiled as she caught sight of her packed schedule. McGonagall briefly nodded, indicating she should keep it away from prying eyes- those being Ron's- so she quickly stuffed it into her bag as the teacher moved towards Ginny. The younger girl was evidently uncomfortable, taking the parchment and quickly vacating the hall. Watching McGonagall's eyes follow her out of the room Hermione realised she wasn't the only person concerned with Ginny's welfare. The problem was that knowing that meant there was something wrong and it wasn't a figment of her overactive imagination as she had hoped.

'Potions first thing on a Monday?' Ron groaned loudly. 'Whose bright idea was that one?'

'With double Transfiguration in the afternoon,' Harry added. 'It's just fantastic.'

Hermione pricked up her ears at that statement. If they had Professor McGonagall later that day she might have a chance to ask her about Ginny or at least express her concerns. Yes, that's what she'd do.


All through the morning Ginny's only thought was getting to her hideaway, to both write in her diary and get away from prying eyes. Everyone, it felt, was watching her: even people she'd never spoken to. On one level she thought she was being paranoid but then, of course, everybody knew her because of the previous year, they might very well be looking at her. What if they could see the things she was trying to conceal?

Reaching the seventh floor she walked along, expecting to find her door next to a particularly ugly statue. There was nothing there. Retracing her steps she checked the entire corridor but to no avail- the door had disappeared. Then it struck her; of course it had disappeared because it had appeared from nowhere. It was a code or something, it had to be.

Thinking back to what she had done the last night she started pacing back and forth again. After two full sweeps of the corridor she gazed at the wall expectantly but nothing happened. So that wasn't right. Ah, hang on a minute, hadn't she walked the corridor three times?

Trying it, she was delighted when the door bulged out again. Rushing in, she found the place precisely as she'd left it and, throwing herself down onto the sofa, she grabbed her journal and started writing.

She's watching me. I saw her this morning.

What if she knows? It's not right,

I know it isn't, that's why I can't let

anybody find out. It'll go away…


A morning of N.E.W.T students had almost put Ginny Weasley out of her mind but Minerva was reminded of the second-year when she scanned the Gryffindor table at lunchtime to find the young girl absent. After the manner in which Ginny had fled the hall after breakfast she was concerned, the hopes that it had been a one-off incident had been dashed mercilessly. Despite her fairly reserved manner when it came to pupils- a long time ago she had resolved never to interfere in situations which were out of her hands- she found her impartial eye disappearing. It was all over the note Molly had sent, naturally. The kinship she felt for the Weasley's, among all good Wizarding families, was great for a reason she had never troubled to decipher. Of course, Arthur was a worker at the Ministry and Charlie, Bill and Percy had all been pleasures to teach but it was Molly she had the most affection for. Minerva knew without a doubt that she could never- even if she had been in a position to- have raised a family during the dark times of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign. The constant fear, the anxieties… Minerva couldn't imagine. Any woman who managed to hold a family together at that time was more of a remarkable specimen than Minerva herself.

After setting the third-years off on their first task of the new term she refrained from proceeding around the classroom to check their progress as she usually would. Instead, she sat at her desk and watched the class from there. Some of the hopeless misfits- Slytherins, she noted- were making their presences felt with backward incantations that sent their Stupified sparrows rocketing in the air. Hermione Granger, of course, only took a few attempts before her bird became a purse then she spent the remainder of the lesson ducking Weasley's sparrow which flew regularly in her direction. The majority of the class mastered the spell- even Longbottom, surprisingly- which wasn't necessarily too much of an achievement as it was one of the simplest in The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Three yet considering the way some of these pupils had behaved in the past she was willing to treat it as one.

Dismissing them at the end of the lesson she was surprised when Hermione packed her bag but lingered until the rest of the students had dispersed. 'Have you got a minute, Professor?'

'Is there a problem, Miss Granger?' Minerva asked. 'With the Time-Turner perhaps?'

'No, that's fine. It's just…' The young brunette drew to a halt momentarily. 'It's about Ginny, I'm worried about her.'

It was said in such a rush that it took a few seconds to decipher it. When she did, she frowned. 'Miss Weasley? Is she okay?'

'She seems distant, Professor. She won't talk to anyone and I know for a fact she's not eating.'

'There could be a simple explanation for all that. Many students find the adjustment back to Hogwarts difficult after the summer.'

'Professor,' Hermione said, squirming a little on the spot. 'With all respect, I don't believe you think that. Otherwise you wouldn't have looked so worried when she rushed out of the hall this morning.'

'You're a very observant girl, Miss Granger,' Minerva answered, indicating for the young lady to sit down opposite her. 'I received an owl from Molly Weasley this morning expressing some concerns.'

'Because of what happened in the Chamber?'

'That was her fear, yes. How do you think she's coping with that?'

'Well, that's the thing,' answered Hermione, frowning. 'I think she'd talk about that. I mean, she knows Harry was there too.'

'Ah, but didn't she have rather a crush on him?' questioned Minerva with a small smile.

Hermione stared at her. 'I didn't think you'd know that, Professor.'

'I make it my business to know most things, Miss Granger.'

'Should I try talking to her, do you think?'

Minerva paused for a moment. 'I think it would prove she wasn't alone.'

Her student nodded. 'Thanks, Professor.'