Brief Summary: Dumbledore told them where the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters were then disappeared.

(I did warn you it was brief.)

"That's all very nice…" started George.

"…But what does it have to do with us?" finished Fred.

"Um, go upstairs and pack all of you, everything you'll need for the rest of the summer and for starting back school as well."

"But…" said Fred, George, Ron and Ginny at the same time.

"NOW!" commanded Mrs Weasley and they all knew from experience that it was a waste of time to argue - time that could be spent thinking up pranks, that could be spent thinking of Harry, I mean Michael, that could be spent thinking of Hermione Quidditch.

"We'll go straight away. Give us a look at that map, eh Dad?" They heard Charlie say as the grudgingly retreated up the stair to pack and ponder what on earth the Order of the Phoenix could be (among other things).

Whatever Ginny had been expecting, it wasn't this. Standing with her mother and Ron on a muggle street in London with no idea how her father and four other brothers had managed to find a place which clearly didn't exist. She glanced at Ron, hoping to make herself feel better by sharing a 'Has the whole world gone insane?' look, only to see him smile, walk forward, and disappear. It startled her because, even though vanishing was natural in the world she had grown up in, Ron didn't know how to Apparate and her mother would NEVER allow him to do anything illegal.

"Well, get going" Her mother gently chided her.

"Get going where?" she wanted to ask but didn't see how she could without looking stupid. She began walking forward as Ron had, spying left and right

"11 Grimmauld Place, 13 Grimmau.., why no 12? Oh…."

She had barely had time to register what was happening before she was standing in front of a large, dark house with a large, dark front door. Unfortunately, it wasn't time enough to stop herself colliding with the door. She stubbed her toe and winded herself quite badly. Even more inopportunely, it seemed one Remus J. Lupin had been waiting for the door to be knocked.

"What took you so long?" he asked with a smile. Ginny's inside squirmed.

"You're not helping!" She informed her stomach. "He was your teacher too, you know!"

Her mother, who was obviously on the same side as her stomach and whatever part of her brain it was that controlled the inflammation of her cheeks, began to tell the whole story in humiliatingly minute detail, completely oblivious to her daughter's discomfort.

"My head must look like it's on fire."