I do not own Harry Potter, the characters or the ideas behind them. They are the soul property of R.K. Rowling. I am just borrowing them for a while and will try not to do too much harm with them. This story is my concept and any small similarities to another are purely coincidental. I will always reference any ideas I borrow from other wonderful authors.

The Gift –

A couple of days later found Ginny tidying up the last bit in the breakfast nook. She was humming to herself planning what she would do next. She was glad of the extra work to do because it would keep her mind busy. She suspected that John knew this and that was why he had asked her to help out. He probably also knew she had started working with roses for the same reason. The busier she was the more she could relax into a routine and not think more than what was needed to do the job.

It was not that she didn't like to think, really, it was just that she wanted to keep her focus on the here and now and looking toward the future. If she let her mind wander it would drift back to the past where she didn't want to dwell, for there lay sorrow, unhappiness and regret. Over the years she had learned to bury the past and keeping busy kept it locked away. Even things in the recent past would sometimes slip behind this wall, not really forgotten, just not looked at any more.

When Ginny turned at the sound of a cleared throat, she was a little surprised to find Angie standing there. "I thought you would have left by now," said Ginny smiling down at Angie.

"We are but.." Angie paused, "well we, I mean, that is I, well." Angie stopped speaking a slight hint of red colored her cheeks.

Ginny kept a warm smile on her face. "Yes?" she queried as she bent down to Angie's level.

"Well I just wanted to say thank you for being nice to me," said Angie softly not quite meeting Ginny's eyes.

"You don't have to do that," responded Ginny, "I had a nice time and it was certainly no trouble."

"I know, but I wanted to," said Angie finally meeting Ginny's eyes. "I also have a question to ask."

"Okay," answered Ginny with a slight shrug.

"I know you like roses and I was wondering what color you liked best," asked Angie.

Ginny was taken a little by surprise by this question and didn't know how to answer right away. She had never been asked that before and had never really thought about it before.

"Don't just give any answer," said Angie breaking into Ginny's thoughts. "You need to think about it for a few seconds."

Ginny thought this was a strange way of framing the request but just shrugged and started running through the different types she might like. All of a sudden an image of a snow white rose with just a tinge of blue at the petal edges popped into her mind. The image was so clear it was a tangible thing, like it had a life of its own and it momentarily took her breath away. She thought it was the most beautiful rose she had ever seen and belatedly wondered where the image came from. It was then Ginny realized that Angie had had her hands behind her the whole time and was just now bringing forth the same rose she had just pictured.

Angie stretched out her arm offering this rose to Ginny and she found her own hand reaching out and accepting it. She couldn't help herself, the rose was so beautiful she just had to take it and smell the fragrance. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. The smell of fresh washed hair warmed by the summer sun wrapped itself around her and an image of a very young Heather laughing and chasing the ducks in St. James park came to mind. A slight smile came to her face at this memory.

With a jerk Ginny came back to herself realizing what just happened. The rose was magical and Angie had knowingly or inadvertently given it to her. She panicked for a moment before pulling herself together. She knew she could not accept this gift and had to give it back.

"Angie I can't,.."

"Angela!" snarled a voice causing both Angie and Ginny to jump and turn toward it.

By the breakfast nook entrance stood Angie's father with an ugly look on his face. He was a tall slender man dressed all in black that gave his skin a pale grayish cast, almost like he was a walking corpse. His dark beady eyes looked at Angie before focusing in on Ginny and narrowing further in displeasure.

"Haven't I told you not to make friends with her kind," he snarled again never taking his eyes off Ginny.

Ginny knew in some indefinite way he was challenging her. Not as an equal but to get some sort of rise out of her, maybe he was trying to make her angry. Her heart was beating painfully against her ribs and knew this was the result of fear, but decided she would not let him get to her. She was somewhat relieved when she held her gaze steady without any emotions showing through.

"We're leaving, move," snapped Angie's father causing a slight jump out of his daughter.

Angie's father kept his eyes locked on Ginny's seeming to pay no attention to his daughter as she walked toward him with her head bent forward and eyes downcast. Just as Angie drew next to him he raised his hand as if to strike her causing Angie to cringe and bolt for the door. Ginny's eyes widened at this and a flash of anger crossed her face before she could stop it.

A chuckle came from Angie's father and a nasty sneer to his lips. He was taunting her and enjoying his little twisted game. Ginny quickly composed her features even though her heart was beating faster than normal. The fear was gone though and replace now by a fire she had not felt in a long time. This man may feel he was in control but something in Ginny said she could not or would not accept this.

Just as Angie was slipping out the door Ginny called out, "nice meeting you Angie." She did not know if Angie acknowledged her or not as her eyes were locked on Angie's father. She did see the sneer ebb away and his brow darken and a look of pure hatred coming from him. Even this did not make a crack in her façade of calm but seemed only strengthen her steadiness.

Ginny knew she had to keep this between her and Angie's father and not let his anger drain off using Angie as a target. She wasn't sure how she could change his focus away from Angie until it suddenly dawned on her. Why would a wizarding family stay at a muggle hotel unless they did not want it to be known they were here? Ginny mentally kicked herself for not realizing that earlier, but now maybe she could redirect his anger.

"So, did you get all your business taken care of," queried Ginny stressing business slightly.

Angie's father started and his eyes narrowed as an alarmed look fleetingly crossed his face. Then all emotion drained away as he kept staring at her with eyes that had gone dead. She could see the muscles twitch in his face as he clenched his jaw. After a couple of second his hand slowly reached inside his jacket where Ginny knew his wand must be.

Ginny stood her ground and just when she was sure he would pull out his wand, sounds of talking and laughter could be heard in the hall beyond the door. Angie's father hesitated a moment, removed his hand from inside his jacket, turned and strode out the door behind him.

Ginny caught herself holding her breath and slowly exhaled. She was really shaken by the encounter and more so because she had knowingly faced an angry wizard and challenging him in a backhanded way. This she had also done without her wand and mentally kicked herself for such a dumb move.

"What were you thinking!" she chided herself. Things could have turned badly and then and she could well have died leaving her daughter alone in the world. She could only shake her head in disbelief wondering what idiocy had prompted her into such an action. Still a small part of her was surprised and a little pleased. It was not long ago she would have run away to cower in some corner. It did not mean she wouldn't so again, but it made her pause a bit.

She took another deep breath and let it out tying to shake out the tenseness of her muscles. She was slowly unclenching her fists when she realized she still held the rose Angie had given her. She remembered surreptitiously sliding it into the folds of her apron when Angie's father startled the two. An unconscious desire not to cause problems for the young girl.

Now Angie was gone and there was no way she could return the rose without causing more problems for herself and definitely Angie. She was hesitant to keep the rose and just as hesitant not to let it go. The rose seemed to call to her and she had to admit it was a long time since she had been around anything magical. After a short debate with herself she decided to keep the rose and took it up and set it in a small vase in her room.