December, 1971

On December 25th, 1971, there was the annual Christmas party, hosted by the Blacks. At the gates of the ancestral Black home, Ginny had been stopped by a House-elf. The last House-elf she had known, in her past life as Ginny Weasley, was Kreacher, who had been Walburga Black's personal House-elf. In her present life as Ginny McKinnon, she had never known this House-elf in particular, but that didn't stop the House-elf from taking her invitation; examining every square inch of the thick parchment; and then, with the invitation bursting into flames and dissolving into thin air; the imperious gates, of which metal she did not care much for finding out, had opened, and let her forward upon the pathway toward 12 Grimmauld Place.

You still have to keep your vow to Sirius, she reminded herself, then added: I've already kept my promise to Andromeda and Narcissa. One down, one more to go.

In the aftermath of the Quidditch match, she had made sure to sign up on McGonagall's list, that was for students returning home for the Christmas Hols. Straight afterward, she had gone up to Gryffindor Tower, and had sat down upon her bed in the girls' dormitory, in order to pen a letter to her family and inform them of her upcoming absence on Christmas Day. She, Ginny, herself, knowing her family as she had done so within the past four months or so, also had known that, just like any other family, they wouldn't be happy with the news of her letter; and, for that matter, neither would Marlene, her twin sister.

Even still, she wished that they would find it in themselves to understand; to be happy for her, and to acknowledge that, apart from her twin, she had finally made friends in the Black sisters, since she had attended Hogwarts for the first time. However, she knew that she would have to just grin and bear it; get through the party, and face her family, when the time came, along with the summer holidays of next year. Now, they would just have to accept her total disregard, and lack of presence, at their own party of Christmas Day with the McKinnon family.

All the while, she was setting foot into Black Manor—not for the first time as Ginny Weasley, but for the first time as Ginny McKinnon—she had made sure to put on a brave face; have a sharp intake; set back her shoulders; and force a smile; because nothing was going to bring down Christmas Day for her. Not the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; not even the Blacks, themselves. For she was going to keep her promise to Andromeda and Narcissa, and her vow to Sirius, even if it killed her.

In the aftermath of meetings, greetings, and introductions, oh my: Ginny had been shown to her seat at the main dining room table. She had taken her seat, directly across the table, from Andromeda, and at the right-hand side of Narcissa. She was both surprised and grateful that the Blacks would have taken into account, her allegiances with their eldest cousins, of the last generation. But, then, she supposed, that they would have to do such a thing, as a family, to keep track of everything of importance, in order to preserve their family tree mural, upon the walls of the main seating room of the manor.

The seating arrangement was correct; the dress robes of the Black family members, as well as all other guests in attendance, resplendent; the food, exquisite; truly, Ginny would have no other words to describe the night of the Christmas party of which she had attended. The only thing that would have made it better for her, had been if she had known anyone else in the party: other than Sirius, who was against her; Andromeda, who had other engagements as the eldest, unmarried Black sister; as well as Narcissa, who had enough on her silver-encrusted, Goblin-made, eighteenth-century plate, by keeping her future husband, Lucius Malfoy, preoccupied, and away from other potential candidates as his future wife.

When am I going to meet my future husband? thought Ginny.

She made to turn away from the peripheral side view of the future Lord and Lady Malfoy, when she had accidentally knocked into someone else, and had, quite literally, fallen into their arms. They had stopped her from falling over herself, as well as whoever they were. In the next, fluid moment, she had slid out of their arms, and, with her brightest smile, and best party face, turned to face them.

The world had stopped turning, before her, upon its axis; in her veins, the blood had rushed to a stop, in the same moment; the color had drained from her face; she had frozen, as still as one of the many statues within the school castle, and, probably, within this same Manor, as well; it had seemed to her, that the entire ball room had shuddered to a stop; but it, along with life, had gone on, just as it always had, and would do so, even though she knew exactly who she had just met.

This isn't my future husband, thought Ginny, this is my future enemy. The Death Eater of the Dark Side. The downfall of the Dark Lord. The Achille's Heel of the Horcruxes. The last hope for the Order of the Phoenix, in the war, against Lord Voldemort.

"Please," said the knight in shining armor; the villain, underneath the hood, "accept my apology. My name is Regulus Black. . . and yours'?"

The knight and villain, otherwise known as Regulus Black, had swept into a bow, just as that of his brother's had been: low, gracious, and smooth. However, she noted, he hadn't cut as dashing a figure as his brother had done, on the night before the Christmas Hols'. In the same instant that he had turned back to face her, she had been able to regain, both composure and bearing, as well as retain that of her party face.

Initially, she had only planned on returning his greetings, making her introductions, and, then, leaving to return to her room, back in one of the upper floors of the Manor: just as any other normal witch would have done, in her own time, at least. However, she didn't do that: the only thing she did, was drop into a curtsey, right in front of Regulus Black, and for all the other guests to see, something she would never have done, as Ginny Weasley, but had done so, instead, as Ginny McKinnon.

"Ginny McKinnon, and, apology accepted, Mr. Black, but you should have known, there was no need to apologize, in the first place: you have done nothing wrong, but rather, I have. So, would you accept my apology, then?"

On the surface, she was playing the part of the pureblood witch, but on the inside, she couldn't believe what she was doing. How could she be doing this? If the other Marauders had been there, she could only imagine the looks on their faces. Speaking of Marauders, Sirius Black was there, and that was bad enough. She could just imagine his reaction, at the moment! But, she kept her eyes on Regulus', and waited for what he would say next.

"No more of these titles," Mr. Black dismissed, "along with the apologies. We're long past that, by now. Don't you think, Ginny?"

"Perhaps we may be," trilled Ginny. Her eyes, bright; her heart, light; she gazed at Regulus Black as if he was the only person in the ball room. However, not all was good and calm, inside of her: the part that was still a Weasley, was screaming at herself, in her head, to do something, anything, rather than concede to this blood supremacist, then -traitor, who would join up with the bad guys, get cold feet, and then trip over them, on his way to his death. As a McKinnon, she heard this all in her mind, but did nothing about it: just stand there, before Regulus Black, and converse with him as though he were just any other wizard.

I'm Ginny McKinnon now, she thought fiercely, not Ginny Weasley. I may never be her again, for all I know.

"What are you doing here?" asked Regulus. His eyes, which had been dark before, now reflected the light of snowflakes, as he gazed at her, from where he stood upon the ball room. "Forgive me," he added, "but I find it odd that a family, such as mine, would invite someone like you to an event like this. Who has invited you?"

Ginny Weasley bristled at this presumption, as well as the interrogation, in itself. If she had been back in her future life, in the 1990s, she would have lunged straight toward him, wand in hand, no matter how pure his blood was. If he was lucky, he would have drowned in mucus, boogers spurting out of his nose like blood from a wound. She knew, if the situation had been turned around, in the 1990s as Ginny Weasley, she would have been dead by now, never mind just who had invited her, there at Black Manor. But now, the situation was different. She, Ginny McKinnon, herself, had the upper hand, and had no problem with revealing the identity of the sender to Regulus Black.

"Andromeda," she confessed, "I'm friends with her and her sister, Narcissa, although they aren't in the same year as me: Narcissa is two years above me. I didn't know if your family would have accepted me, here, but I accepted Andromeda's invitation, anyway, with the risk of offending her, Narcissa, and your entire family, as well as disgracing my own."

His eyes, unreadable as ever; his expression, just as indiscernible; he held out his arm, as if in offering, to take this dance for the next song, and, for the first time, she joined the ball room on the floor. They had fallen into step with the other guests, as fluid as snakes sliding through the grass, and as seamless as otters maneuvering into the ocean.

Regulus Black may not have been Ginny Weasley's future husband, but who knew what the future held for Ginny McKinnon? By all appearances, he may very well have been her boyfriend, from that moment on, if it hadn't been for his brother and future Marauder: Sirius Black, himself. Instead of improving his relationship with Ginny—a first-year Gryffindor, in comparison to he, Regulus, himself, who hadn't even attended Hogwarts yet—he had only managed to exacerbate the rivalry with his brother: heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Meanwhile, he was only the spare, and besides, Sirius was even within the same year and House as Ginny, at Hogwarts, of which he could never be, himself.

At that moment, Sirius Black, himself, had wound his way between Ginny and Regulus, separating them whether he knew it or not, and Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that he knew very well what he had just done, as he stood before them: eyes glittering in the direction, not at she, Ginny, herself, but his brother, Regulus; rocking slightly on the heels of his feet, in a sort of suave way, if Sirius would be so inclined to be 'suave,' in the first place; looking, all the while, as if he thought he belonged there, in all his glory as the heir to their family; she realized the sensation of a challenge emitted from Sirius, as if he would push his brother into a duel over her, right there, on the floor of the ball room. The light of Regulus's eyes, that of which had so entranced her, had gone, replaced by the same darkness of which had pierced them, before he had met Ginny, of whom was certain that this was by consequence of the appearance of his own brother upon the dance floor.

Sirius had opened his mouth, to say what, she didn't know, but what she did know, was that something inside, within Ginny, had been switched back on: the part of herself that had been a Weasley in her past life. Then, she had returned to normal (as normal as you could be, as a time-traveler in the body of an Order member's twin sister, in 1971).

"May I have this dance?" asked Sirius.

He may have been acting the part of the elder Black brother, but Ginny and Regulus knew better: she could almost see the devil-may-car grin upon his face. No matter how much she may have wanted to, she didn't attack him; she didn't lunge toward him and push him to the ground, open palms of her hands holding him down upon the floor; she didn't do anything to him in exchange for, quite possibly, ruining the only opportunity she would ever get, to date someone like Regulus Black, or even, to date Regulus, himself: the most eligible bachelor in the ball room, beside Lucius Malfoy, of whom was already being courted by Regulus and Sirius' first cousin, Narcissa.

Narcissa so owes me when we get back to our rooms after the dance, Ginny thought with an internal grimace, Narcissa and Andromeda, for that matter.

"Of course," acquiesced Regulus, only sparing one, single look at his brother, as he removed himself from Ginny and her person, and crossed over to the other side of the ball room, leaving Ginny to that of her own devices, alongside his brother. As he placed his hands within her own, they moved across the ball room, in the opposite direction of Regulus, much to Ginny's chagrin, and her rage. As a McKinnon, she may not have looked it, but superb Quidditch strength ran through her limbs, and she could have flown circles around Sirius, whether a McKinnon or a Weasley. Keeping all this in mind, she glared at him, with fire in her hazel eyes.

"How dare you?" she hissed.

"I dare many things," he replied, "my dear. But, I admit, I have no idea what I did this time."

His eyes sparkled, in such a way that was different from that of his brother's. Her own eyes spat fire at him: if looks could kill, he would be dead, seven feet under.

"You know exactly what you did!" accused Ginny. They were still acting the part of the perfect dance partners: keeping their eyes upon each other, as well as their hands; feet moving, seamlessly as fluidly, alongside each other, never missing a beat nor move, just like she and Regulus had entered the dance floor. . . before his brother had interrupted and ruined everything they might have had, together. It made Ginny want to kill Sirius. . . almost. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down the infamous Weasley temper, and act more like a McKinnon, the way she had with Regulus: sweet, cheerful, kind. . . everything a pureblood witch should be, she bet, if either Mrs. McKinnon or Mum, back in her past life, should have taught her.

"Would you look at that? I suppose I do," mused Sirius in a mock way, as he widened his eyes, like an owl, at Ginny. "I cut in to save a dance for myself, with you. What? Does Regulus own you, or something? You're not one of those witches. . . are you? Perhaps I should give Marlene a heads up. . ."

"Perhaps I should give Marlene a heads up," said Ginny, voice suddenly going from awfully sour, to saccharinely sweet: something that made Sirius, suspicious. So he wasn't all that dumb, outside of Transfiguration, like he'd seemed. That was something to Ginny, at least. "That one of her friends is looking the other way. I'm sure she'd love to hear that, especially about her own friend and twin sister, don't you think? Or does Marlene not own you?" she added, in an innocent voice that made the expression upon Sirius' face, twist unpleasantly and bitterly.

"Leave Marlene out of this," he snapped, finally pushed to the brink, it seemed. Ginny gave a smirk, worthy of a Slytherin's. Malfoy would be proud, she thought, and, better yet, so would Regulus. "She has nothing to do with this, unlike you. You didn't even answer my question. It's a wonder you're in Gryffindor and not Slytherin, just like a snake! Does Regulus own you? Are you in love with him?" he demanded furiously.

"One more word out of your mouth, Black, and you won't be able to use it for the rest of the year!" she exclaimed, voice getting dangerously loud as they turned sharply across the floor. She had no idea how they were still dancing, at this point. If it had been up to her, she would have stopped, by now, and so she did, holding Sirius in one place, as he struggled to break free of her grasp.

"Temper, temper," he tutted, in the same instant he had relaxed in her grip. Ginny stared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to detect his true motive for what was going to happen next. "I shan't do nothing if you don't say please."

"Fine," snapped Ginny, hardly knowing what she was saying, at this point. "Please!"

Sirius Black—heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, elder brother of Regulus Black, son of Walburga and Orion Black—stopped dead in his tracks, making her crash onto himself, so they both tumbled down to the floor. When they had fallen onto the floor—Ginny: on top of Sirius in a way-too-compromising position, especially at an annual Christmas party; Sirius: underneath Ginny in much the same way-too-compromising position, especially since he was at the same party—one thought ran through her head: I won't be forgetting this anytime soon, that's for sure, and neither will he, I bet! In what was to be both a crystalline and watershed moment in time, that of which would mark their relationship for the rest of their lives: they kissed.

They had kissed: Ginny's lips crashing onto his own; although, from that moment, onward, neither of them would remember who made contact with the other first; she had thought, at the time, that she, Ginny, herself, had been the one to do so. Later on, after their first kiss (Ginny's first kiss—she still wasn't quite sure of Sirius's own), Sirius would joke: "You were never invited to another Black family event again, at least until Andy had been kicked out, meanwhile, I got the usual from Mummy Dearest: you're no son of mine, you worthless, blood traitor-loving swine, and if you weren't heir, you would've been blasted off the tapestry long ago!" They had laughed it off together, but even so, Ginny had been hiding a grimace at Sirius' all-too-accurate impression of his own mother, matriarch of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.

During that moment of the kiss, she didn't know what would happen, afterward, and, even if she had been told all of that, she wouldn't care. She hadn't even cared about the rest of the guests, much less Walburga, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix Black, themselves. . . not even did she care for Regulus Black, although if she had opened her eyes, just a little, she would have seen the look of sheer horror upon his face, and only then would she have cared. But she didn't, and so she hadn't cared about anything but she, Ginny, herself; the kiss; and, of all people, Sirius Black, himself.

What she did care about; what she did know: was that, from the moment they had kissed, and up until the moment they had let go of each other, something had changed between themselves. Something she, nor he, had not quite known what it was, nor how to deal with it, afterward. But what they didn't know, was what that something that had changed between them; what they didn't know, was that Regulus Black—Ginny McKinnon's first dance partner and date before his Sirius, of whom was his own brother—would become more than that: he would become more than the enemy of Ginny McKinnon, Sirius Black, and the Order of the Phoenix; he would become more than one of Voldemort's Death Eaters; he would become Sirius Black's worst enemy, over both that dance and kiss: what he would become, would have to wait to happen, until much later than she, Ginny McKinnon, and he, Sirius Black, would have thought.

What they didn't know, was that, for that, both of them, would pay: even if it killed Regulus Black, to make them.

June, 1972

Ginny McKinnon, at age 12, was given the greatest surprise since she had found herself with Marlene McKinnon, at age 11.

At the end of their second year, Sirius Black had asked out Ginny McKinnon, and she had accepted his proposal for a date. Come third year, she would be known as the girlfriend of Sirius Black.

"It was a prank!"

"Was it a bet? It wasn't a bet, was it? If so, I'll bury James Potter so that they'll never find him."

"No! It wasn't a prank, it wasn't a bet, and no, I do not want you to bury James Potter!"

"Then how did Sirius Black come to ask you out?"

"Good questions. And if you'll all sit down, I'll be happy to answer them."

And so, Ginny McKinnon did answer the questions from her dorm-mates, Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon. While there had been no love lost between she and Lily since the Hogwarts Express, she did owe Marlene an explanation, on the basis of her being Ginny's twin sister.

They had all sat down on the couch, directly in the line of the fire, within the Gryffindor Common Room, and listened to Ginny's story of how she became Sirius's girlfriend. She had been working on yet another one of their assignments, of which class she didn't recall, when an owl had all but swooped to land right in front of her, and practically on top of her essay.

The owl, majestic as it was, with its' gimlet stare of amber eyes, and fur as black as a Raven's, dipped its' beak to drop the note in front of Ginny, who picked it up to read it, at once:

Drop down by the Common, would you?

Ginny had barely finished reading the note when she'd left it back on her desk, and sprinted down to the Common Room; if she could slide down the railing of the stair-case in order to make herself go faster, she would have. Her suspicions were proven correct: it had been Sirius Black who had both been the one to send the note, and been the one who'd been awaiting for her presence, 'down by the Common'.

"'Lo, McKinnon," Black said, by way of greeting. "How goes it?"

"Fine," said Ginny, by way of reply; she wondered, though, if it had sounded more like a huff, as she was still breathless from the run down, than it had sounded like her normal voice.

"Go out with me, yeah?"

"Sure," said Ginny, "I'd love to."

A brilliant smile broke across Sirius' face, and to Ginny, it was as if sunlight had broken across the clouds. Although she'd been acting normal, her brain had barely managed to compute, of what had just happened to her: she'd just been asked out by Sirius Black!

And the best part of all, was that she, Ginny, herself, had said yes!

"Would this Friday work for you?"

"Absolutely," Ginny agreed, and she thanked Merlin she had already experienced this with Harry Potter—as well as for her supreme confidence in dealing with boys as Ginny Weasley—otherwise, she'd be a blubbering mess right about now, no doubt about that.

"See you around, then," Sirius, then, had bid her farewell, and they'd gone their separate ways, afterward.

As much as Ginny had been pleased with the outcome of Sirius' proposal, from the look that Lily and Marlene had exchanged when she'd finished the story, told Ginny that they weren't as impressed as she thought they might have been.

"Come now, Lily, Marlene," Ginny said, "you both may as well look more excited, than that, at least."

"Well… to me, it doesn't sound like Black at all," Marlene ventured.

"Exactly," Lily agreed. "We're only looking out for you, Gin. What if he has an ulterior motive? What if he has… less than honorable intentions for you?"

"He wouldn't be like that at all," insisted Ginny loyally.

Lily and Marlene exchanged another look, which made Ginny want to box both of their ears.

Sirius Black may have been a play-boy in his school years, Ginny thought, but I know he is a good person at heart, and would never play a girl on purpose… especially not me.

But she could see, in all her infinite wisdom from her past life, that Lily and Marlene didn't believe her—and most likely wouldn't believe her, not even if Sirius Black, himself, had come before them, on bended knee, for them to hear him out.

"Perhaps he really has changed his ways," Lily decided to humor Ginny, after an awkward pause.

"And perhaps You-Know-Who will renounce the Dark," Marlene muttered in a stage-whisper, "Not gonna happen; I'll believe it when I see it."

"Either way," Ginny said cheerfully, determined to look on the bright side of her situation in spite of the nay-sayers, "I've got a date with Sirius Black! Oh, how I wish we could go to Hogsmeade."

Marlene groaned in agreement; Lily tiled her head, in puzzlement.

"Hogsmeade?" Lily echoed. "What do you mean?"

Both Ginny and Marlene stared at Lily in astonishment.

"You mean… no one's told you about Hogsmeade yet?" Ginny demanded. "That's right, you're a Muggle-born; I forgot."

"How could you not know about Hogsmeade?" butted in Marlene. She made it sound like it was a crime. "Don't you have that mate in Slytherin?"

"'Course I do," Lily defended herself, "Must have slipped his mind; he can't think of everything."

"Anyway, Hogsmeade is only the best place in all of Wizarding Britain," explained Ginny, effectively pushing the subject of Severus Snape, aside. "We aren't allowed to go, yet. Only the upper years' are allowed: from third year, onward."

"It sounds brilliant," breathed out Lily.

"You can say that again," agreed Marlene.

"Where did he say he wanted to meet you, if not at Hogsmeade?" Lily wanted to know, and Ginny sighed.

She had already resigning herself to the next twelve hours of the day full of questions about her first date with Sirius Black.

Author's Note: I told you that you wouldn't have to wait another month for the next chapter, didn't I? I was right!
In any case, this is the beginning of the character arcs & dynamics between Ginny, Sirius, and Regulus, as well as the love triangle that ensues.
Yes, I said love triangle, my two most-hated words in the English language... I mean, when referring to literature, that is.
Alas, it is but a necessary evil for this story, and one, although within the Potterverse, not engineered by our favorite psychopath, I mean, Voldemort.

Author's Note 2: The last two scenes were written, long before I had written the first scene of Sirius Black you happen upon in the fic.
That's my explanation for why Sirius Black and, perhaps, his girlfriend, Ginny McKinnon, are suffering from a temporary bout of split personality disorder.
(I don't know the correct term of that, so don't quote me on that, please. Otherwise Andromeda will come after you with Blood Quills. *cackles*
She might also still do that, if you don't review. Hint, hint. Cough, cough.)

At the risk of sounding like someone who had just discovered the Internet back in the mid-2000s, this is where I sign off, until next time.

— frozenphantom