Prologue: In my opinions this chapter isn't as good as the First. In some parts it's better, in others it blows. I hope you'll like reading it as much as I liked writing it. There may be a new chapter on Thursday or Friday(my goal is to update this at least semi-regularly, but I'm terrible with deadlines, so that may be a bit of a problem). At the very latest, you can expect a new chapter on Sunday. Also, feel free to comment on how I could write it better. I have an idea of how I want it to go, but I'll also accept advice and criticism. Without further ado, here's the new chapter.

Chores. This whole summer, since the funerals at Hogwarts, had been spent with chores and nothing but. While I hated chores, and would indiscriminately set piles of laundry ablaze in my mind, they were welcome distractions from everything, which I think was mum's main plan. After the funeral, when Death Eater and Dumbledore's Soldiers were buried, mum's spirits had drained from her, working with the same mindless duty as an inferi. The chores I could handle, but watching her waste away as she had was beyond unbearable. It was more than a personal change though. She had started looking like a different person altogether. This mum substitute had lost her anger, becoming detached from the world, no longer fussing about everything. Her hair had lost its red luster, and it seemed to be turning a murky brown. Her skin had started to sag as she lost her plump motherly figure. In a few months she had aged a number of years, and didn't seem to care.

George was no better off. No one in our family understood what it was like to have a twin, but the sympathy pains when one was scolded gave us enough of an idea to guess how it felt. It must have been unbearable, to feel the one person in the world that knows you as well as you know yourself completely disappear. In the past two months, George had gone through a shocking change of character, losing the happiness that would keep the chandeliers unstable, and my mother alive. More than once, he'd considered selling the store, and subsequently changing his mind, but never returning. Without the twin's antics, and my mother's energetic responses, our house had become deathly silent; Azkaban seemed like a cheerier place than The Burrow. It was this glum mood that had, thankfully, postponed all of the dates Harry and I could have gone on, and although it pained me to see people I loved so much in such a terrible mood, I was thankful for the distractions. All of that flew out the window when Harry told everyone at the table, my entire family and several close friends, that we'd be going out for our second date in a few days.

Everyone had perked up at the news. It wasn't because they were happy to hear it, but simply because they were shocked to hear it was our second. They weren't the only ones. Harry had undertaken this venture of his own accord, leaving me to shoulder just as much blame(if not more), knowing the shock and pain it would have caused Mum and Fred. While they wallowed in the losses, the rest of us were moving on, and that knowledge would have sunk them further into this depression they simply couldn't get out of. That was my thought, and I was hopelessly wrong.

"Second?" Mum asked her voice raspy and deep without use.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Second. I'm sorry to have kept this from you, but we didn't want to overburden you." Harry replied, his voice shaky and nervous.

"So, these past few weeks, whenever you and Ginny were traipsing around, not a care in the world, you'd been courting my daughter? Right under my nose and without my consent?" A rising anger pervaded her tone, but more than that. There was life. Happiness, Anger, shock, guilt, every emotion she'd left buried under the surface bubbled over and finally gave my mother life in a fiercely growing typhoon of essence.

"I really am sorry, Mrs. Weasley. With everything that-"

"Don't give me that crock, Harry! This is wonderful news and you've been keeping it from me for how long?"

Sense evaded me at the mention of "wonderful news." I'd enjoyed the anger above all else. It meant that this fake relationship, every fake moment of love and lust between us would be coming to an end, and I'd finally be free of our awkward moments of adoration. Mum being happy threw a serious wrench in my plans. I looked at Harry, a stupid grin plastered to his face, thinking Looks like I'm stuck with him.

"This is wonderful news indeed, if only you hadn't kept it from me. I suppose I should have noticed , but oh well. Goes to show how much I've noticed around here." Mum looked down at her lap, eyes clouding over once more as she contemplated the chicken on her plate.

The evening continued without astray word or thought on the subject, and I was thankful for the reprieve, hoping this would continue for the rest of my existence. Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the case if my mother had anything to say about it. She creeped into my room silently, while I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Ginny…. We need to talk." The words no person wants to hear, especially from their mom.

"Yes mum?"

"You and Harry….. have you done anything yet?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, her eyes reflecting mine, reflecting on her question.

"No, mum. And I don't know how much I really want to." the thought of sex had crossed my mind many times (more often than healthy in some instances), but the thought of Harry and me having sex was about as appealing as a dead baby nailed to a board. It was repulsive by any sense.

"I want you to know, should you feel the urge, it's natura-"

"Mum! Let's stop right there. We've talked about this… I know all about it, but I don't really want to have sex, and if I did, I wouldn't hesitate to tell you. Just spare me the lecture, please."

She took the hint, coming closer to me. Sweeping low, she kissed my forehead."I'm glad you understand, and I'm proud of both you and Harry. Whenever the time comes, I trust your judgment as a woman." She turned swiftly on her heels and walked away, leaving me blushing and awestruck.

The following day, after news of our "announcement" had settled a little, business had changed. The house had returned to a state of normalcy unheard of in the past few months. Instead of mindlessly assigning task after dreary task, mum had taken command again, bestowing praise and criticism with gusto. When she'd started scolding Ron for not drying the dishes properly, a haughty barn owl perched itself on a windowsill. Owls had been coming and going at all hours of the day, offering everything from jobs to book deals to condolences, mostly for Harry. It was unexpected to see my name on the letter the owl held. It was a shock to see the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the other side.

Dear Ginny Weasley,

I would first like to offer my deepest sympathies for the loss of your brother.

I'd also like to commend you for your valiance in the battle. Your actions brought

pride to the name of Weasley and Gryffindor. With that in mind, we at Hogwarts wish

to extend a formal invitation to you for your final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft

and Wizardy. The Ministry and the school have agreed that the education of young wizards

cannot go inhibited by events as they have progressed. While not mandatory, it is our hope

that you will return to the school with the best intentions. Enclosed you will find the year's

required text and supplies, as well as your ticket for the Hogwarts Express.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonnegal

Headmistress

I read the letter and supply list thrice over, finally giving it to my mum for verification. Satisfied that the letter was real, mum and I looked at each other.

"After everything? Doesn't this seem a little sudden?" Mum's face creased, worry etching itself into her reborn visage.

"Mum, this is the best thing that could happen. We need to be strong in our determination to not let this stop us. We can do it, as wizards, witches, werewolves, and Weasleys. It's in our blood." I was fighting tooth and nail to go back. I longed for nothing more than the cold corridors and passing ghosts, for the silence of an after-hours jaunt about the grounds or the bustle of the Great Hall. More than anything, I wanted an escape. I wanted to be free of the Burrow, of the chores, the constant reminder that Fred was gone, but more importantly I wanted to be without Harry wherever I went. The wounded puppy routine was getting very old, very fast.

Mum eyed me up and down, the familiar feeling of mind-probing settling in under her stern gaze. "If that's what you want, I won't stand in your way. I expect a letter every week."

My heart exploded from my chest. I ran outside, deeper and deeper into the fields surrounding my childhood home, and I screamed in delight, a savage declaration of glee and love chasing away my every doubt and insecurity. I was going back. I was getting to finish things the way they should be. I was going to be free.

The next day, mum and I went to Diagon Alley. The celebrations had died down, but posters and glitter still hung from every surface not dominated by a witch or wizard. Our time together was a bliss unlike any I'd ever felt. Between the bonuses for book deals, the raise my father had gotten at work, and the fact that I was the last and only one to go back to school, my supplies were no longer the cheap hand-me-downs of my revolting brothers. My books were new, robes cleanly trimmed and pressed, and my every supply something from a dream.

The business of our visit even ebbed into pleasure. After all of my demands were met, we walked into a small restaurant off a side street, indulging in rich and indescribable delicacies I could only hope to taste in another life. We topped it off with a nice ice cream from Florene Fortescue's. The day was heaven, and we sat on the patio, enjoying our ice creams.

Somewhere in our happy chattering, my mum decided to turn grave, however. "No one will think less of you for stopping this. You don't have to go, we can return everything, get the money back, or keep it until you decide to go back. If this is what you want, then I support you, but are you sure?" She placed her hand on mine, mint chocolate chip dribbling down the cone and collecting on her fingers. We looked into each others' eyes, her resolve softening as her gaze went from my hair to my freckles, and finally into my own eyes.

"Mum, I need this. I need to do this for so many reasons. I love you and Fred and everyone, but I need to go for me." We continued eating in silence, finally returning when the ice cream was gone, and our purchases were ready.

My plans to go back hadn't been known to anyone except for Mum; it seems surprises and secrets were the largest part of that summer. The day before my departure, mum planned and cooked a huge feast, inviting the whole family, even Fleur's family. After the final course, mum brought out a large cake she'd baked into the shape of a castle. This was my cue. As she lowered the cake, I stood from my seat.

"Everybody, I have an announcement. Hogwarts is reopening, and I'm returning." No one seemed to really care. George's face flashed with grim acknowledgment, but he remained silent for the most part. Ron and Hermione had been too busy staring at each other, as had Bill and Fleur. My father looked between me and my mum, who simply shook her head with a silent smile. Harry's gaze I never met, but I could feel it strong on my neck, my face, the top of my head.

"Well, zis is wonderful. Eet iz so nice to see zat zhe school iz going to continue eets fine traditions." Fleur's father spoke up. It was a blessing, lifting the gravity of this situation from my shoulders. It seemed that Monsieur Delacour had said enough, and with that, the meal finished in silence. Harry's gaze never left me, and I never returned it, but I could feel it and all of his anger behind it, his jaw working furiously as he chewed his thoughts and emotions. He had every right to be angry, but I didn't want to deal with it. This was a problem I was more than happy to put off until later. Or never. Which ever lasted longer.

Naturally, fate had conspired against me, and this problem would hit me like a bludger. It happened that night. I lay in my bed, once again staring at my ceiling and thinking of my valiant return to Hogwarts, conquering warrior princess of battle. He slinked into my room, in complete silence; it appears that creeping into my room without announcement had become a favorite pastime of every single person I don't want to deal with at that particular moment.

"How could you?" His voice icy, I slipped my hand under my pillow and grabbed my wand, roaring "stupify". The spell bounced off a shield charm I didn't know he had, and in the light I could see his face, angular, pale, grim, and disappointed. "Why didn't you tell me we had so little time together? Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"
"Lumos."A beam of light from my wand showed everything in my room, the darkness edging away from its path. His hands were in his pockets, bunched into fists, and his eyes glazed over in the beginnings of tears. It was heartbreaking. "I needed to do this. I want to do this. I will do this, and your opinion of my actions did not matter in my decision. With or without your approval, I was going to finish my education, and I did not see the need to burden you with this information."

Pain stabbed through his features, and his visage remained in a tortured mask of suffering. The wounded puppy, his bottle green eyes, shaggy hair, and angst, had come out to play.

"Ginny... I love you... what am I supposed to do without you? Why couldn't you tell me?"

"I know you do, and you can find ways to pass time, maybe get a job or play quidditch, I don't know. But I'm going to do this for me, indepen-"

He pushed closer, his hand on top of mine as his lips encircled my mouth in the same rough, beastly kiss as our first date. He pushed further, making me lay down on the bed, and his kiss became more urgent, his tongue attacking mine in a silent plea to stay here forever. He moved his hand from my hand to my stomach, my chest, my face. He took my lack of struggle for approval, and continued, snaking his hand underneath my nightgown until his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear.

He hooked a finger underneath and slid them off, doing the same to his own pants. Exposed and erect, his penis looked odd and amusing. Part of me wanted to poke it like a child would a strange bug, but the other part of me recognized it for what it was, and what it was about to do. Lips still together, he began to bump and grind against my pelvis, finally managing to put it in. We had sex, his penis working in and out of my vagina in a slow and steady movement. Between his hesitation, slow and halting movements, and almost unappealing attempts to please me, my most vivid memory is of his gaunt face, the effort and concentration twisting his face into a merciless scowl. It lasted for about ten minutes until things changed. He started thrusting forward with more intensity and confidence, pushing harder in deeper, throwing me into strong bits of bliss and rapture, beckoning me deeper into pure ecstasy. At that point, he removed his lips from mine, and put them on my neck, biting with shocking strength and vigor. The pleasure, the sheer and divine joy this approach had brought was unimaginable. Even in my wildest fantasies, nothing like this had happened, and it threw my vision teetering, forcing my breath in ragged gasps and moans.

He released his bite, and threw my legs on my shoulders with a strength and skill that eluded him in the beginning. I looked into his eyes, glowing like red-hot coals. I was locked, struck with the strength of his gaze and the power behind those eyes. His face smoothed, the concentration relaxing from his muscles.

"You're mine. Now and forever." It wasn't his voice. It was deep, a rich vibrato filled with lust, strength, and a cold malice that brought me over the edge. It was so different from the high, wheedling pitch so oft heard from his mouth, and it brought back memories of a love and sense of power I'd feared and adored. I looked into his eyes, my breath caught in my throat, and the climax(hopefully the first of many) came crashing around me, the beautiful timbre of that strangely familiar voice ringing in my ears as I sank deeper into the orgasm of a lifetime.

"Oh Tom," I moaned, settling into this blissful release, "I'm yours."