Disclaimer--Nothing here belongs to me--It's for the love of the craft and intended only as flattery. Most of this scene is from PoA and belongs to JKR, who is a MUCH more accomplished writer than me.
Author's Notes--Hard as it is to believe, Ginny's second year is drawing to a close. *sighs* For those of you who are starting to wonder, SoA will be drawing to a close with Chapter 42. I'm seriously considering Ginny's third year--Hopefully I'll have a bit more info before SoA is finished. As for sequels beyond GoF, I do have some intentions...but for now, I think it's probably best to take it one story at a time. ;-)
I sHoW nO sHaMe--If you've got it, flaunt it. ;-)
Raiining--Nice to see a new reviewer! :-) I hope you enjoy the story.
Adrienne--I don't want this year to end...but I suppose I'll like next year once it begins. *grins and sighs* I don't think I can really take credit for my obsessive habits! *laughs* But I enjoy the appreciation anyway. Thanks. *grins and hugs* I'm glad you enjoy the games from the spectator stands--I do too!Sometimes the fans are more fun than the game! *winks* Oh, I agree--Ginny is the closest thing to a daughter/niece Lupin has, and it's very good for both of them! It's nice to see him enjoying himself for a change--he's usually so sad. *sighs* Ooh...thanks for the reminder he'll be back...I was feeling pretty crushed about his departure. *pouts* But...it's only temporary--must repeat that like a mantra! *hugs*
EEDOE--Yup, the best seats by far--I'm tempted to nick 'em--wanna come? Now I just wish I'd mentioned Oliver Wood more often...*winks* Thanks for the compliment on Ginny's little daydream. *hugs* Oh, McGonagall is going to miss Lee even more than we are, because as you say, she enjoys his rants immensely. *grins* Lee does make Quidditch...I hate thinking of a game without him, although the mental picture of what Colin's commentating would be like is certainly a good way to distract myself...*giggles* Awww...Wood will play on...we can go to one of his games! *hugs*
Bill--Gryffindor is competing for the cup...and Ginny is a Quiddich fan...*winks* It is nice to see everyone so absolutely worked up, isn't it? Especially Professor Lupin. It has occured to me--perhaps Sirius is important to Ginny because he's so important to Professor Lupin? And then there's Harry...*winks* *hugs*
***************
Ginny had heard her brothers complain about Hogwarts Exams for as long as she could remember, but they still seemed strangely out-of-place, a discordant note in a familiar tune. Remind herself though she might that her first--exam-free--year had been the aberration, Ginny never felt quite convinced. She mixed up a Confusing Concoction for Professor Snape feeling as if she were standing outside herself watching the whole thing with a vague sense of disbelief that only grew stronger as she turned a lizard into a lovely glass goblet--well, it was more of a flute, actually, but she didn't think that mattered--for Professor McGonagall, tried--rather unsuccessfully--to recount the names of the wizards who'd pioneered broom-flight for Professor Binns, managed to identify Mandragora--as if she would ever forget it!--Wolfsbane, and Wormwood as well as their necessary care for Professor Sprout, discussed common hexes and counter-hexes for Professor Lupin, demonstrated--rather well, she thought--several charms for cheery Professor Flitwick, and located and described the importance of several somewhat arcane stars and comets for Professor Sinistra.
Finally, feeling that even an improperly cleared mind was preferable to such a crowded, confused one, Ginny retreated to the Astronomy Tower and her exercises in Occulumency. Clearing her mind wasn't easy, and Ginny was willing to believe it never really would be, but it was becoming more and more natural, so that now all she had to do was sit and stare out the window, letting her attention wander until it faded far into the distance over the sunny horizon...and all that was left was the soft and steady whisper of her breathing, the solid, unshakeable beat of her heart, and a cool, clear sort of clarity in her mind as if it were the heart of an impenetrable forest in the most isolated hours of the night, so quiet and still the slightest rustling of leaf would as jarring as an earthquake...she both was and was not twelve-year-old Ginny Weasley, loyal and lonely, struggling to understand what the world was like and where she fit...she was a child again, climbing trees in the Burrow's backyard and laughing...she was a young woman suspended in love, she was an older woman who understood and loved the little girl but with a sort of detached knowledge of what life was like and what it took to live in it...and without ever moving, she opened her arms and embraced them all to her until she thought she would overflow with the joy and the sorrow and the wonder of it all...
Her very toes and fingers were atingle with herself...with life within and without and far beyond herself from time before time until time without time, like the great rise and fall of the ocean tide pulled by the distant gleam of the silver moon...
Her entire being seemed made of water, of light, of some sensation that might be called emotion if it weren't so impersonal, and for one endless moment, it seemed to effortlessly coalesce into a smooth and reflective surface to accept and reflect. In that moment, thought had no meaning and no place, but Ginny knew, without conviction or doubt, that not only could nothing affect who and what she was, but that she, by the very reflection of the attempt, could catch a glimpse of them...
And with the sudden spark of a candle gutting into darkness, the feeling flared and was gone.
For a moment, Ginny didn't know where she was or what she had done...and as memory slowly ebbed into being, she found herself wondering if that moment had really existed.
The owl sitting on her knee cocked its head slightly to the right and blinked once, slowly and deliberately, as if asking itself what to make of her. Ginny grinned at it weakly, and reached out to take the note off its leg. Suddenly she felt tired and spent, as loose and wiggly as if Professor Lockhart had deboned all her limbs.
The owl gave her one last measuring look, hooted softly, and took off. Ginny watched it fly toward the owlery as she fumbled with the envelope. Her fingers were so numb and noodly she couldn't seem to make them work. Even after she got the envelope open, she dropped the note three times and pushed it all around the floor in vain attempts to pick it up. With a short exclamation of triumph, she managed to keep hold of it, squinting to read the words nearly as shaky as the shimmying parchment.
~~Ginny,
Lost appeal. Execution at sunset.
Nothing you can do.
Don't come down. I don't want you to see it--Understand?
Hagrid~~
"I knew I shouldn't have promised," Ginny hissed, making the sentence a curse. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring their still-shaky protest, and half-bolted down the corridor. "I bet Professor Lupin would walk me down there if I asked him."
"Ginny," Professor Dumbledore's voice said with polite hesitation. "Is something bothering you? You seem a bit distracted."
With a start, Ginny realized she had pushed right past him without even noticing. She felt her cheeks begin to heat, and ignored them. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid--"
"Ah," Professor Dumbledore said, cool and gentle. "I thought it might be that."
"How did you know?" Ginny asked, only to have her cheeks darken several more shades at her rudeness.
Professor Dumbledore didn't seem insulted. His blue eyes twinkled, and she even thought he might almost have smiled at her. "The Committee Officials and the Ministry Representative are required to report any school-related business to the Headmaster," he explained. "And that happens to be me."
"Oh...that makes sense," Ginny said, feeling even more ridiculous for the knee-jerk question. "Professor, I...Hagrid made me promise not to visit him without a teacher to escort me across grounds--"
"A bit overzealous perhaps," Dumbledore said kindly, "but not entirely unwarranted given the dementors and the possible--one might say likely--presence of Sirius Black."
"I suppose," Ginny said quite ungraciously. "But, anyway, now with Buckbeak, and Hagrid, and-"
"You would like to go and show your support?" Dumbledore suggested, and Ginny thought there was a note of proud satisfaction in his voice which, under other circumstances, would have pleased her enormously.
Ginny nodded. "Are you--"
"I am indeed on my way to meet the government contingent now," Dumbledore said. "However, while I would normally have no objection at all to taking you to see Hagrid, I'm afraid I do think it best you not be involved in this unfortunate incident."
If it had been anyone else--anyone at all--Ginny might have been inclined to argue. As it was, she knew Dumbledore was the reason Hagrid had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts as the groundskeeper, Dumbledore had defended Hagrid's guilt when no one else would last year when...Dumbledore had both recognized her guilt and her innocence...Dumbledore...she trusted. She released her indignation in a long strangled sigh. "Okay," she mumbled grudgingly under her breath.
Dumbledore reached out and patted her shoulder, his hand somehow feeling both cool and warm through her robes. "I'll tell Hagrid."
Author's Notes--Hard as it is to believe, Ginny's second year is drawing to a close. *sighs* For those of you who are starting to wonder, SoA will be drawing to a close with Chapter 42. I'm seriously considering Ginny's third year--Hopefully I'll have a bit more info before SoA is finished. As for sequels beyond GoF, I do have some intentions...but for now, I think it's probably best to take it one story at a time. ;-)
I sHoW nO sHaMe--If you've got it, flaunt it. ;-)
Raiining--Nice to see a new reviewer! :-) I hope you enjoy the story.
Adrienne--I don't want this year to end...but I suppose I'll like next year once it begins. *grins and sighs* I don't think I can really take credit for my obsessive habits! *laughs* But I enjoy the appreciation anyway. Thanks. *grins and hugs* I'm glad you enjoy the games from the spectator stands--I do too!Sometimes the fans are more fun than the game! *winks* Oh, I agree--Ginny is the closest thing to a daughter/niece Lupin has, and it's very good for both of them! It's nice to see him enjoying himself for a change--he's usually so sad. *sighs* Ooh...thanks for the reminder he'll be back...I was feeling pretty crushed about his departure. *pouts* But...it's only temporary--must repeat that like a mantra! *hugs*
EEDOE--Yup, the best seats by far--I'm tempted to nick 'em--wanna come? Now I just wish I'd mentioned Oliver Wood more often...*winks* Thanks for the compliment on Ginny's little daydream. *hugs* Oh, McGonagall is going to miss Lee even more than we are, because as you say, she enjoys his rants immensely. *grins* Lee does make Quidditch...I hate thinking of a game without him, although the mental picture of what Colin's commentating would be like is certainly a good way to distract myself...*giggles* Awww...Wood will play on...we can go to one of his games! *hugs*
Bill--Gryffindor is competing for the cup...and Ginny is a Quiddich fan...*winks* It is nice to see everyone so absolutely worked up, isn't it? Especially Professor Lupin. It has occured to me--perhaps Sirius is important to Ginny because he's so important to Professor Lupin? And then there's Harry...*winks* *hugs*
***************
Ginny had heard her brothers complain about Hogwarts Exams for as long as she could remember, but they still seemed strangely out-of-place, a discordant note in a familiar tune. Remind herself though she might that her first--exam-free--year had been the aberration, Ginny never felt quite convinced. She mixed up a Confusing Concoction for Professor Snape feeling as if she were standing outside herself watching the whole thing with a vague sense of disbelief that only grew stronger as she turned a lizard into a lovely glass goblet--well, it was more of a flute, actually, but she didn't think that mattered--for Professor McGonagall, tried--rather unsuccessfully--to recount the names of the wizards who'd pioneered broom-flight for Professor Binns, managed to identify Mandragora--as if she would ever forget it!--Wolfsbane, and Wormwood as well as their necessary care for Professor Sprout, discussed common hexes and counter-hexes for Professor Lupin, demonstrated--rather well, she thought--several charms for cheery Professor Flitwick, and located and described the importance of several somewhat arcane stars and comets for Professor Sinistra.
Finally, feeling that even an improperly cleared mind was preferable to such a crowded, confused one, Ginny retreated to the Astronomy Tower and her exercises in Occulumency. Clearing her mind wasn't easy, and Ginny was willing to believe it never really would be, but it was becoming more and more natural, so that now all she had to do was sit and stare out the window, letting her attention wander until it faded far into the distance over the sunny horizon...and all that was left was the soft and steady whisper of her breathing, the solid, unshakeable beat of her heart, and a cool, clear sort of clarity in her mind as if it were the heart of an impenetrable forest in the most isolated hours of the night, so quiet and still the slightest rustling of leaf would as jarring as an earthquake...she both was and was not twelve-year-old Ginny Weasley, loyal and lonely, struggling to understand what the world was like and where she fit...she was a child again, climbing trees in the Burrow's backyard and laughing...she was a young woman suspended in love, she was an older woman who understood and loved the little girl but with a sort of detached knowledge of what life was like and what it took to live in it...and without ever moving, she opened her arms and embraced them all to her until she thought she would overflow with the joy and the sorrow and the wonder of it all...
Her very toes and fingers were atingle with herself...with life within and without and far beyond herself from time before time until time without time, like the great rise and fall of the ocean tide pulled by the distant gleam of the silver moon...
Her entire being seemed made of water, of light, of some sensation that might be called emotion if it weren't so impersonal, and for one endless moment, it seemed to effortlessly coalesce into a smooth and reflective surface to accept and reflect. In that moment, thought had no meaning and no place, but Ginny knew, without conviction or doubt, that not only could nothing affect who and what she was, but that she, by the very reflection of the attempt, could catch a glimpse of them...
And with the sudden spark of a candle gutting into darkness, the feeling flared and was gone.
For a moment, Ginny didn't know where she was or what she had done...and as memory slowly ebbed into being, she found herself wondering if that moment had really existed.
The owl sitting on her knee cocked its head slightly to the right and blinked once, slowly and deliberately, as if asking itself what to make of her. Ginny grinned at it weakly, and reached out to take the note off its leg. Suddenly she felt tired and spent, as loose and wiggly as if Professor Lockhart had deboned all her limbs.
The owl gave her one last measuring look, hooted softly, and took off. Ginny watched it fly toward the owlery as she fumbled with the envelope. Her fingers were so numb and noodly she couldn't seem to make them work. Even after she got the envelope open, she dropped the note three times and pushed it all around the floor in vain attempts to pick it up. With a short exclamation of triumph, she managed to keep hold of it, squinting to read the words nearly as shaky as the shimmying parchment.
~~Ginny,
Lost appeal. Execution at sunset.
Nothing you can do.
Don't come down. I don't want you to see it--Understand?
Hagrid~~
"I knew I shouldn't have promised," Ginny hissed, making the sentence a curse. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring their still-shaky protest, and half-bolted down the corridor. "I bet Professor Lupin would walk me down there if I asked him."
"Ginny," Professor Dumbledore's voice said with polite hesitation. "Is something bothering you? You seem a bit distracted."
With a start, Ginny realized she had pushed right past him without even noticing. She felt her cheeks begin to heat, and ignored them. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid--"
"Ah," Professor Dumbledore said, cool and gentle. "I thought it might be that."
"How did you know?" Ginny asked, only to have her cheeks darken several more shades at her rudeness.
Professor Dumbledore didn't seem insulted. His blue eyes twinkled, and she even thought he might almost have smiled at her. "The Committee Officials and the Ministry Representative are required to report any school-related business to the Headmaster," he explained. "And that happens to be me."
"Oh...that makes sense," Ginny said, feeling even more ridiculous for the knee-jerk question. "Professor, I...Hagrid made me promise not to visit him without a teacher to escort me across grounds--"
"A bit overzealous perhaps," Dumbledore said kindly, "but not entirely unwarranted given the dementors and the possible--one might say likely--presence of Sirius Black."
"I suppose," Ginny said quite ungraciously. "But, anyway, now with Buckbeak, and Hagrid, and-"
"You would like to go and show your support?" Dumbledore suggested, and Ginny thought there was a note of proud satisfaction in his voice which, under other circumstances, would have pleased her enormously.
Ginny nodded. "Are you--"
"I am indeed on my way to meet the government contingent now," Dumbledore said. "However, while I would normally have no objection at all to taking you to see Hagrid, I'm afraid I do think it best you not be involved in this unfortunate incident."
If it had been anyone else--anyone at all--Ginny might have been inclined to argue. As it was, she knew Dumbledore was the reason Hagrid had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts as the groundskeeper, Dumbledore had defended Hagrid's guilt when no one else would last year when...Dumbledore had both recognized her guilt and her innocence...Dumbledore...she trusted. She released her indignation in a long strangled sigh. "Okay," she mumbled grudgingly under her breath.
Dumbledore reached out and patted her shoulder, his hand somehow feeling both cool and warm through her robes. "I'll tell Hagrid."