Ginevra Weasley slipped into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, next to Ron and across from Hermione. 'One more day in the never-ending stream of consciousness,' she thought dryly as she picked at the food on her plate. She made a valiant attempt at paying attention to what they were saying to her, but she hadn't cared for such a long time that she was starting to forget that she was supposed to care.

"Ginny? Hello?'

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione. What did you say?"

"I asked you to pass the pumpkin juice. Is everything all right?"

"Of course it is. Why do you ask?" Her innocent smile was so practiced that she had perfected it and Hermione suspected nothing as she handed her the pitcher of juice.

"You've seemed rather out of sorts this week."

Internally, Ginevra blanched, wracking her brain to figure out what she had done that was out of the ordinary. "I have been feeling a mite under the weather, but I am sure that it's just a cold."

"You ought to go see Madame Pomfrey, Gin. Why didn't you tell us you weren't feeling well?"

'Ah, Harry. Always has to be the hero. Too bad he doesn't realize that I don't need a hero,' she thought to herself, as she forced an exasperated expression onto her face. "I'm fine, Harry. Pomfrey doesn't need every student bothering her for every little sniffle."

"You should still go."

"If I have time between my classes today, I'll go see Madame Pomfrey, okay, Harry?" Hermione and Harry shot her similar pleased looks, which she returned, grudgingly. Ron had remained silent through their conversation, and gave Ginny a small smile when she glanced his way.

"Miss Weasley, I'm closing the Library in fifteen minutes. You won't make it back to your Common Room before curfew if you don't leave now."

"Oh, I'm sorry Madame Pince. I didn't realize what time it was." Ginevra forced a pleasant smile as she gathered up her books and started out of the Library. She really had no intention of going to bed, but Madame Pomfrey – or anyone for that matter – didn't need to know that.

Ginevra walked quickly, just as she always did, looking for all the world like she was hurrying to get to the Gryffindor Common Room before curfew. But just before she started down the last staircase, she veered sharply to the left, ducking behind a tapestry. Once there, she felt around for the triangular-shaped brick that would open the alcove. It opened and she sat down, pulling out a book to read. The alcove was about 4 feet by 4 feet and was just the right shape – a strange, rounded square – that she could sit comfortably for the few hours she would be there. Every night for nearly five years – since the night after she had gotten out of the Hospital Wing after Harry saved her in the Chamber – she came to the tiny alcove and sat there, until about 1 AM. The last check the teachers and Filch did of the school ended at 12:30. By 1, they were all tucked neatly into their beds. They came out again around 5:30, but Ginevra was always safely tucked into her own bed by 5. So from 9 – curfew – until 1, Ginevra sat in the little alcove and did homework, or read, or whatever struck her fancy. Then, from 1 until 5, she wandered aimlessly around the school. She had the sneaking suspicion that she knew the school better than even Dumbledore, but had no desire to find out. This was, in fact, why she was never late to class – she knew hundreds of secret passageways. You don't grow up with Fred and George Weasley without developing a penchant for trouble yourself.

Ginevra checked her watch – Harry's birthday present for her 15th birthday, because, you know, after knowing her for five years, the best gift he could come up with was a watch – and was disappointed to find that she still had an hour before she could safely start wandering. With a heavy sigh, she pulled out her Potions book and started work on an essay that wasn't due for three more days. There was a reason all the Professors liked her so much, after all.

"Stop pacing! You're so bloody distracting! I should kick you out, you know; let you bother each other instead of me. Salazar knows you two deserve each other!"

"Oh, come on, Pans. Don't get yourself so worked up. You know the reason you're not sending us away is because you love our company." Blaise Zabini grinned that lady-killer grin of his, even though he knew full well that it had absolutely no effect on Pansy – it never had.

"Blaise, you're an idiot. The only reason she keeps us in here is so she can make sure we don't get ourselves into trouble. Isn't that right, mother?"

"Draconis Lucius Malfoy," Draco winced, "if you ever call me 'mother' again, I will be forced to castrate you and take no responsibility for my actions," Pansy stated, her eyes never leaving her book. Pansy was curled up in the large armchair in front of the fire, Blaise was sprawled out on the rug in front of her, doing exactly nothing, and Draco was pacing like a caged animal. All three of them had a private room, each branching off of the same, hidden hallway, which led back to the Slytherin Common Room. That particular night, they had all invaded Pansy's room – more or less because Pansy had stopped to get something and Blaise had gotten comfortable on the shag rug.

"Sorry, Pans," he grumbled. "What're you reading, anyways?"

"The Good Apprentice. You both ought to read it, it's very good, if not a bit odd."

"Right now, the only thing I want to do is get out of here … stretch my fangs a bit." Pansy just rolled her eyes in response to Draco's statement, but the declaration did earn a chuckle from Blaise, presumably in amusement.

"You'll do no such thing. It's bad enough you were four hours past curfew last time! I don't see what the problem is with the potion. It dulls the hunger. You don't even need to visit Hogsmeade. There's no way in hell I'm letting you go wandering about Hogwarts to feed on some unsuspecting student. Are you trying to get yourselves caught?"

"Because, Pansy dear, while it does dull the hunger, it does nothing for our tempers. You know how we get between feedings." Blaise nudged Pansy's foot when she didn't respond after a few moments. "Pans?"

"I just wish you would take the damn potion. You're going to give yourselves away if you're not careful and that is something we cannot afford."

"Pansy … we're always careful. You know that. What's really bothering you?" Draco had stopped pacing to give Pansy an unreadable look.

"Nothing, just … go, because I know you're going to anyway. We'll talk about this later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Draco. I'm sure. Go on."

"Pans …" Blaise looked decidedly uncomfortable with the situation; Pansy was never one to hide anything from the two of them. And, while Pansy had plenty of experience figuring out exactly what was bothering them, they had hardly any.

"Seriously, it's ok. Go terrorize some little first year. You'll feel better." Without saying another word, Pansy put down her book and strode quickly into her bathroom. A few moments later, they heard the shower running.

"Think we should wait?" Blaise shifted nervously on the rug, tugging at a piece of shag.

"What? And have her scream us deaf when she gets back? I don't think so. Let's just do as she asks and we can all deal with this in the morning."

"Checkmate," Ron mumbled; he hadn't really felt like playing chess in the first place, but he felt even less like arguing with anyone. Harry grimaced and stood up, immediately, nearly knocking over the chess set. "Watch out, mate!"

"Calm down, Ron. It's just a chess set," Hermione admonished from her perch on the couch.

Ron growled inaudibly, but said nothing more as he started putting the set away. It wasn't just a chess set. It was his chess set; it was the first set he'd ever had that wasn't a hand-me-down from Charlie or Percy – or both. Ginny had saved up her money for months in order to buy him the set for his birthday. It was exactly what he had wanted; solid cherry wood, with his name engraved on one edge. Harry and Hermione had wanted to get it for him, but Ginny had made them promise that they would let her buy it. Even though Ron would never admit it to them, it was more meaningful coming from Ginny. While Harry and Hermione would have given him the exact same set, there was something in knowing that Ginny had foregone butterbeer and chocolates at Hogsmeade for months, in addition to working as a guinea pig for the twins. Harry and Hermione never would have done that for him, but then, they didn't have to either. They had galleons to spare.

Ron carefully laid the pieces in the velvet-lined box, which was also engraved, and set the box on the mantle. If he took it upstairs now, the desire to sleep would become too much when he saw his warm, comfy bed. So he simply settled down on the couch, next to Hermione. No one spoke for a long time; Hermione was thoroughly engrossed in a book, Ron was morosely contemplating his lack of fortune, and Harry was staring absentmindedly into the fire.

"When's your detention, Ron?"

Ron, lost in his own world, hadn't heard Harry's words. "Pardon?"

"Your detention, with Snape. When is it?"

"You got a detention! When was this?! What did you do?!"

Ron grimaced at Hermione's amazing ability to destroy the eardrums of her unsuspecting victims. "I hexed Goyle," he stated simply. He had no desire, whatsoever, to discuss anything with them at the moment. So he figured, he might as well get this over with in the easiest, most pain-free way possible; telling the truth. Perhaps it would minimize the time he'd have to listen to Hermione screeching at him.

"What! Why?!"

"Greengrass insulted Ginny."

"What did she say?"

"Doesn't matter. She insulted Ginny and, since Goyle got in the way, the hex hit him instead of Greengrass. I never would really hex a girl; it was just meant to graze her. But Goyle's a good deal bigger than she is." Ron said all of this in a soft monotone, bereft of emotion, as he continued to watch the fire die.

"When was this?"

"After Quidditch. Ginny said she'd left her quill in the Potion's classroom and I said I'd walk with her to get it." Contrary to what Hermione and Harry would think, Ron hadn't offered to walk with her simply because he thought she needed protection from the Slytherins or some such nonsense. Considering all that had happened during the war, he knew that Ginny was quite capable of holding her own, if the need arose. In truth, the reason he had gone to the dungeons with Ginny was simply to talk to her. He knew her excuse about feeling 'under the weather' was bull, just like she knew that his request that she see Madame Pomfrey wasn't a serious one. He wanted to ask her what was really wrong, to see if there was anything he could do to help. But she hadn't told him anything. She had, however, promised that, if he would wait for her in the Common Room that night, they would talk.

"Ronald Weasley! You can't just run around hexing anyone you want! You're going to get us all expelled!"

"Hermione's right, Ron. Dumbledore isn't going to keep putting up with all this hostility. The war's over. Let's just try to live in the peace we all deserve."

Ron ground his teeth; it was just like them to team up against him. Now, if it had been Harry defending Ginny, it would have all been well and fine. But he'd promised Ginny not to fight with them on her behalf, so he withheld his retort. She knew the tension she was causing with the trio as they all pried into her life. Harry and Hermione pushed too hard and only succeeded in pushing her away. Ron, on the other hand, having grown up with Ginny, knew exactly when to push and when to just sit back and leave things be. Ginny could confide in him; Harry and Hermione knew it and it made them furious. Hermione was hurt because she saw herself as the sister Ginny never had. However, Ginny saw her more as the sister she had but never really wanted. Harry, on the other hand, was simply suffering from a wounded ego. The fact that Ginny had moved on from her silly crush had hit him, and hit him hard. Ron was sure that he only thought of Ginny as a sister, of course, but it was Harry Potter. He liked to be liked.

While Ginny didn't particularly care for Ron's two best friends, she still cared about Ron. She didn't want to cause problems between the three of them. Hence her insistence that Ron not fight with them regarding her or her problems.

"My detention's tomorrow night, after dinner."

Hermione continued to babble on, lecturing him on this or that, and Harry continued to agree wholeheartedly with her, even joining in on the little 'lecture Ron fest' from time to time. Meanwhile, Ron was trying to decide if he agreed with the Chudley Canon's manager's decision to trade two of their reserve chasers and their seeker for a better seeker. Neither Harry nor Hermione ever suspected that he wasn't listening and, after an hour or so, both decided it was time to head up to bed. Ron stayed downstairs and settled down on the couch to sleep. He'd promised Ginny he'd wait and she would wake him up when she got there. He only hoped she wasn't too long; Harry and Hermione were started to get suspicious of him staying in the Common Room after they went to bed on more nights than one.

As Ron drifted off to sleep, Ginny's words from a few weeks prior flitted across his consciousness. "War is a lot like rain, Ron. It brings a lot of things, changes a lot of things, washes a lot of things away. And you can't ever really see all that's happened until the clouds have cleared. The war is over; the clouds are going to start clearing."

AN: Surely not I- Yes, so here's the first chapter, and as promised, longer than the prologue. Credit for most ofthis lovely chaptergoes to Pia! Pia- Meh, more like credit goes to me for being a control freak and taking over this chapter.You? Controlling? Never: D LOL! But in all seriousness, we apologize to anyone who actually likes the trio ... we, however, hate them with the fire of 1,000 suns. That's putting it mildly. And kudo points to you if you know what that's from.

R&R and let us know what you thought of this chapter!