AN: Here it is, the extension to the earlier chapters which will now be written in Ginny's perspective. I apologize that this chapter isn't that exciting, it's just a start for what will come in Ginny's sixth year while the Trio hunt horcruxes.

Procrastination Put Aside

The room was uncomfortably warm, but Ginny made no effort to get up and open the window. Sitting on her unmade bed with her back against the wall, she stared absently through the sun-drenched pane of glass with a hand resting on a stack of photos she had been sorting. Her bedroom was a mess of scattered items she was supposed to be packing in her trunk for the train ride to school the next day. Ginny had attempted to organize the pile of belongings but got no further than folding a few robes and tossing a book or two into the bottom of the truck. Trying to decide which pictures to include in the items she wanted to pin up in her dormitory, she had become distracted in her task after finding one particular photo. It had been taken last year, by a fellow Quidditch teammate during one of their strenuous practices. Ginny recalled that it was near the end because in the photo their uniforms were mud-splattered and disheveled, their hair mussed and damp with sweat. Despite the exhausting drills Harry had put them through, everyone in the picture looked exhilarated, as if there was no place they would have rather been than on that drenched and chilly pitch as the sun was going down. Demelza Robins took the photo on the new camera she had received for her birthday and had given Ginny a copy once it was developed. She had said it was because it was a good keepsake of their time practicing on the pitch, but Ginny knew better. It was because, despite going out with Dean most of the year, Demelza knew how much Harry meant to Ginny. The picture was special because it captured a confident looking Captain Potter giving Ginny a lively high-five which ended in a quick embrace before he turned to a rather moody looking Ron on the side. The movement in the magical photo presented a detailed and pleasant expression on both her and Harry's faces, each flushed from the excursion of the flying exercises they had just finished. Ginny was tempted to cut Ron out of the picture, and maybe Katie Bell on her left as well, leaving just the two of them within the frame of motion. Drawing her eyes away from the window and out of her reverie, she simply placed the photo in with the others she planned on bringing to Hogwarts, deciding against editing anything for the time being.

Through her closed bedroom door, Ginny heard the sound of her mother calling for someone but the words were too muffled for her to make out who she wanted. Hoping it wasn't her, Ginny ignored the call and turned back to her packing. It had taken her days to get even this far, and it wasn't saying much. Molly was already irritated with her inability to do much more than sit around and stare out the window in a daze. But what did anybody expect? Ginny wasn't the only one who was worried, but that wasn't even the problem. It was the fact that she was stuck at the Burrow with nothing to do but think. It was driving her bonkers all this waiting and wondering without any word. Nothing but the little piece of news from Remus informing them that Ron, Harry, and Hermione had sought refuge at Grimmauld Place. That news was old now, and Ginny didn't even know if they were still there. If only she could travel on her own. Just one glimpse of him would set her mind at ease just a little. A glimpse of all of them; she just wanted to know they were okay after all that had happened.

More importantly, Ginny wanted to tell Harry about Snape. Maybe he had heard already. She didn't know if they had any access to the Daily Prophet. She did know that Harry had instructions from Dumbledore, whatever that meant. Ginny didn't think that included revenge on Snape, but the Headmaster also couldn't have known that his death would need to be avenged. And Harry was Harry, something Ginny knew very well. She recalled his reaction when Snape was given the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, how would he feel now that Snape was given the Headmastership at Hogwarts? Certainly he wouldn't abandon his goal and head north for vengeance?

To be perfectly honest, Ginny almost wished that he would. Part of her time spent daydreaming out the window procured visions of Harry showing up at King's Cross on the first of September with that look of determination she loved and a plan to take down Snape as soon as the train reached Hogsmeade station. She would fight and so would Neville and Luna. The whole school would be on his side, except for maybe the Slytherins. They would reclaim the castle and set up a stronghold. The Order could provide backup, and Harry could send a pointed message to Voldemort. If he wanted him, he would have to come get him.

The image made Ginny smile for the first time in days. But it just wasn't possible. Harry would not be at the station because it wasn't Dumbledore's plan. And Harry would never stray from that plan, she was sure. Ginny just wished she knew what that was. It was frustrating that she wasn't of age yet. Just one year later and she would have left with Harry, her brother, and Hermione. She wouldn't have even cared what her parents thought about it. The last thing she wanted was to board that train the next morning and return to school when there was a war to fight elsewhere. She certainly wasn't going to sit around tossing kid spells with her wand all year. If Snape thought he was going to waltz in and take over after what he did to Dumbledore and have an easy time of it, he had better think again.

Molly called once more and, this time, Ginny was certain she was looking for her. There were heavy footsteps on the creaky stairs and a brisk knock at her door. Before Ginny could either deny or admit access, her mother stuck her head in and looked around at the mess with a trained eye. "Ginevra," she scolded. "I expected you to be further along in your packing."

"So did I," Ginny sighed with a frown, tossing aside her stack of photographs onto the crumpled quilt at the end of her bed.

"No more excuses now." Molly entered the room and began waving her wand, encouraging several items to fly neatly into the growing stack at the bottom of the trunk. "There will be little time in the morning to dilly-dally around. Now up! On your feet, let's get this packing settled then you can spend the entire evening staring out the window doing nothing." Molly's gaze fell on the Quidditch photo lying on top of all the others, and her expression softened slightly.

Patting Ginny's foot, she encouraged her to slide over a few inches before sitting down on the mattress beside her. The bed springs groaned and squeaked as she settled, her warm hand still sitting comfortably near her daughter's knee. "Lupin believes they are still at the old Headquarters," she told her softly with an encouraging smile. "He says he doesn't dare stop again to be sure, but the last time he checked several Death Eaters had been mulling around across the street watching the house. That can only mean they expect them to be there."

"Doesn't mean they are," Ginny pointed out moodily.

"No," Molly agreed, "but I think we would know if they weren't."

"But why?" Ginny asked. "Why would they just stay holed up there all these weeks? What are they waiting for?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Molly brushed a stray bit of hair away from her daughter's face. "Trust Harry, he knows what he's doing."

Ginny frowned again but nodded, knowing her mother was right.

"I expect when they make a move, we will know. Lupin and Kingsley are doing everything they can to keep an eye out. The Order is aiding them more then they even know." Molly reached for her wand again, flicking it upwards and sending a stack of clean laundry across the room into the trunk. "Finish up and then meet me downstairs." She stood, preparing to leave the room. "I'll have dinner ready in an hour, and I would like your help getting it on the table. Bill and Fleur are coming and, if your father got the message to them, Fred and George will be too."

Ginny smiled, knowing her mother had asked them all to come just for her. It would make it easier, for the last meal before term, not to have to spend it alone. "I'll be right down," Ginny even made an effort to move off the bed, catching her mother's incredulous raised eyebrow. "I will, I promise. I just have to pack the rest of these books."

"And your spare quills."

"Yes," Ginny picked them up off her desk so as not to forget.

"And your potions kit," Molly reminded her. "Do you have your scarf? Extra socks? Enough clean underwear?"

"Yes, mum," Ginny gritted her teeth in annoyance, taking the armload of items Molly handed off and dumping them all into the open trunk without ceremony.

"Ginny, dear, do be gentle. Fold those robes a little neater and do yourself a favor and make your bed for once."

"Why?" she grumbled. "I'll only be sleeping in it again tonight. I'll make it tomorrow before we leave," she added quickly after catching the scolding look on Molly's face. "Just go, I'll be down in a minute."

Molly paused at the door a moment, her expression changing from frustration to a kind of sadness only a mother can have when looking at their babies all grown up. Too soon Ginny was her last child to escort to Hogwarts. Her youngest and only daughter still had two years of schooling yet to finish, but it was all going so fast. And who knew, with a war surging ahead of them at full speed, would there even be a school to attend Ginny's seventh year?

Molly pushed the possibilities out of her mind, giving her head a little shake with a sigh and realizing that Ginny was watching her queerly.

"You alright, mum?"

"Perfectly fine, dear," Molly assured her. "Just hurry for dinner."


Arthur was late coming home from the Ministry so Ginny enticed George, Fred, and Bill to get in a little impromptu Quidditch out in the garden. She was dying to fly and used the early dusk as a means of persuasion to get Molly's permission. Ever since the wedding the Weasley's had been careful even around the Burrow. Things were different now and any little slip up could cost them their freedom. Molly was worried they would be seen flying by any of the villagers and muggle neighbors nearby. She was especially cautious with Ginny, not wanting there to be any mistake with her being underage and unable to perform magic. Bill reminded his mother that flying a broom didn't involve using a wand. Ginny wouldn't even be carrying hers while they played.

"Just keep near the garden then," Molly assented . "Don't fly too high, and—"

"Stop worrying, mum," George put a hand on her shoulder on their way out the door. "If we get into any trouble, we've got Ginny to protect us."

"You should be more worried about what she's going to do to us on the field."

"Damn straight," Ginny deadpanned, bypassing all three of her brothers with her broom over her shoulder.

"Watch your language, Ginevra," Molly tossed one last scold after them before they shut the kitchen door and headed out into the garden.

Bill was a little soft after loafing around on his honeymoon just weeks before. The twins were always full of energy, but they were experienced Beaters, not Chasers. So they were right in thinking they should be mindful of Ginny's skill. She wore them all out with her quick maneuvers and fast-paced playing style. At some point they gave up keeping score and simply focused on running drills, pushing Ginny to the limit just to see how much she could take. Fred and George used their wands to speed up the velocity of the practice ball, making it harder to see and even harder to catch. Bill created mid-air obstacles and environmental diversions in the form of gusts of strong wind and periodic spouts of driving rain. Not exactly the magical low profile their mother had in mind, but a fine way to prepare their little sister for her first year as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

"You're ready," Bill assured her proudly as they landed back on the ground after catching sight of Arthur walking through the garden gate. "Gryffindor will be unstoppable."

"Almost," Ginny muttered to herself while combing her wet hair back with her fingers, her breath heaving in great gasps as her adrenaline pumped through her veins. Almost unstoppable, she thought, minus one unbeatable Seeker. And this year it was her job to replace him. A job she wasn't looking forward to. A job that was near impossible.

"Come in and eat, children!" Molly waved them in from the yard.

"Did you hear that, Fred?" George picked up his broom.

"Children?" Fred raised an eyebrow. "I think our mother's going senile, George. No children here."

"Well, one child perhaps," George grinned in Ginny's direction with a nod. "I think mum's calling you, Gin. Better run for your supper."

"If coming of age means giving up mum's meals just to eat the way you two do every night, I'm just fine with staying a child. Last one to the table gets to wash the dishes." Playing off their confusion, Ginny got a head start and sprinted toward the kitchen door, bursting through the entrance with Fred and George on her heels. Pushing and shoving their way to the table, all three left muddy tracks on Molly's clean floor, dropping brooms and kicking soiled trainers off under their chairs.

"Honestly you three!" Molly exclaims, raising a pot of stewed cabbage over her head so as not to spill it in the commotion. "Behave, now! You are not toddlers."

"No, just children," Fred responded, reaching for the corned beef.

"Bill's last," Ginny grinned while plucking a roll from the basket on the center of the table. "He has to wash the dishes."

Bill sauntered in several steps behind the others, propping his broom near the coat tree and bending to peck Fleur on her pale, porcelain cheek. "That's okay, I can manage."

"'E will not have too," Fleur gushed. "I will wash them for 'eem."

"That takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?" Fred leaned in near Ginny, speaking low and swiping the butter under her nose.

Ginny shared his opinion with a grin and dug into her meal with more vigor than she had all summer. If their little Quidditch exercise in the garden had done anything, it had given her new drive and even a sense of excitement for the coming year. With or without Harry, she would give her all both on the pitch and the classroom. Neither Voldemort nor Snape could take away her strive for an education or love of the game. Watching Harry over the years had taught Ginny that a life could be lived even in the worst of circumstances. This year she would live just as any other. She would study, practice, learn, and even teach when called. She would do it for him because Harry was out there somewhere fighting for her, for all of them.

Finishing her meal quickly, she gave each of her brothers a quick hug and said goodbye. Taking the stairs to her room two at a time, Ginny rushed into her room and starting packing where she had left off. There wouldn't be much time to leave it all for morning. She wanted to get to the station early; she would need to find Neville right away.