Body A/N: Sorry this took so long, I was preoccupied with school. Okay, that sounds weird. With no further speech or ado, I give you the one, the only ... hey, don't blame me, things having to do with Heath Ledger stick in my brain. This is mostly a transitional chapter, I know it's short, sorry.

R/R or feel the wrath of Scabbers.

And I wonder what it's like; to be the first in space

And I wonder what it's like; to be inside your head, behind your face

Beyond a shadow of a doubt; to have the whole thing figured out

I wonder what it's like

First In Space

Chapter Two: True Colors

Ginny lay back on her bed, letting the day's events drip through her mind. In one hand she clutched a slightly singed timetable that had been part of an eventful first day back.

All of Gryffindor Tower had woken up five minutes after Ginny had ambled downstairs to the common room. Harry was the room's only other occupant, and the two had started a row filled with sparkling vocabulary. Hermione had stormed downstairs and ended the noise with a heavy Silencing Charm. Not far behind with threats of writing home to Mrs Weasley was Ron. The morning's only comical attribute had been Ron's indignant "And what have you got to say for yourself?" directed at Ginny, who had pointed out her voicelessness with an amused look.

Breakfast hadn't been any better; Seamus' behaviour had bordered on mental while Neville Longbottom desperately searched for Trevor the Fourteenth, who had taken up residence in Ginny's fruit-bowl.

Professor McGonagall had approached Ginny in a third-floor corridor ten minutes before first class with an odd expression on her face. Very dazedly, McGonagall had explained that there was a problem with moving Ginny into fifth-year Divination studies.

'Will I have to drop the class?' Ginny had asked sadly.

Thankfully she didn't, but due to time constraints, Ginny had been pushed ahead a level in Potions class as well. McGonagall had said to try the arrangement for a week before other methods would be considered.

'Now, off you go to class, Miss Weasley.'

Although it was a relief to keep fifth-year Divination (her parents had been bragging nonstop since Dumbledore had sent a letter), Potions was a very different case. Ginny felt it would be sheer luck to finish Snape's class with a mark that wasn't in the negatives.

Herbology (shared with Ravenclaw) and Muggle Studies (alongside Hufflepuff) had been extremely easy, and the afternoon was spent in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff, although Ginny had been so worried about her fifth-year classes the next day that she hadn't bothered to look at who the new professor was.

She successfully avoided seeing Harry at all, even at dinner, where Seamus's embarrassed face (he wouldn't explain why no matter how much anyone asked) and Dean's rather perverted jokes took precedence over her worries.

Later on, however, when she was alone in her bed and surrounded by her roommates' soft snoring, Ginny's brain kicked into high gear.

'This is stupid,' she whispered into the darkness. 'Ron and Hermione have turned into miniature Percys; I can't stand the company of wizards my own age; that Harry Potter is becoming more of a senseless sod each day ... everything and everyone has changed but me.'

An idea came to Ginny just then, and she grabbed her wand off the nighttable. Thinking it better to commit the deed without light, she whispered a spell Bill had taught her. Even without a mirror Ginny knew that her hair had shortened from the middle of her back to her shoulders; the trademark Weasley red had transformed into dark chestnut locks; her usually plain eyes had changed to sparkling emerald.

'At least it's a reversible spell,' Ginny told her wand as she replaced it and sank back underneath the covers. 'That way Ron can't give me a speech about family pride in hair colors. Well, he can't give me that speech anyway, he hates orange ... and maroon.'

'Ribbit,' agreed Trevor the Fourteenth from across the room. His sudden commentary caused Ginny to shriek and shoo the confused toad out of the dorm, slamming the door behind her rather angrily.

Trevor hopped along the girl's dorm halls alone for a bit before happening upon Crookshanks, who wore an alarmingly pleased look on his squashed face.

'Ribbit.'