Chapter 2 – Manic Mondays
The warm morning sunlight drifted in through the filmy curtains. Squares of light started to chase the shadows of night to the far corners of the room and bathed the sleeping form within the bed in an otherworldly, ethereal glow. A head full of tousled auburn curls turned on the pillow and the eyes in that smooth porcelain face twitched from the light and a persistent tapping upon the glass of the window. Unable to sleep through the blinding light any longer, she rolled over onto her stomach, raised up on her elbows and stared out at the window.
"Hedwig!" Ginny jumped off the bed to let the beautiful snowy white owl into the room. "What are you doing here? You should know by now, Ron's room is. . . ." It was at that moment that Ginny noticed it was her name - not her brother's - written in Harry's concentrated script on the letter. Quickly releasing the ties, Ginny walked back and sat down on the edge of her bed. Hedwig perched upon her knee and hooted up at her fondly. Seeing the warmth in the owl's round amber eyes, Ginny relaxed and stroked Hedwig's wings.
What could Harry possibly have to say to me that would take up so much paper? she thought as she unfolded the letter and began to read. By the end of the letter she was filled with such dread and anxiety, she couldn't bear to read the final paragraph.
"Ginevra Weasley, come down to breakfast now, before it gets cold!"
"Well, I guess the rest of it can wait awhile." Ginny quickly tucked the letter under a stack of papers in the top drawer of the bedside table and proceeded to get dressed. She emerged into the hallway in a pair of deconstructed flare jeans and a baby tee and proceeded to head to breakfast.
To the untrained eye she looked like any other teenage girl, but unlike many others her age, she could honestly claim the title of witch.
Walking through the rest of the house it was easy to see that she came by it naturally. As always, the Weasley house was a lovely cluttered mess. There were open spell books and pieces of parchment lying on the living room rug, which like most things in the house had seen better days.
Inside the kitchen the scrubbed oak table was laden down with griddle cakes, muffins, bacon, eggs, sausages, tea, milk and juice. It was always amazing that while the family was poor as church mice, none of the children had ever experience hunger.
Ginny sat down between her older twin brothers, Fred and George, both were dressed in matching fluorescent pink robes with a large W on the chest. One of her other brothers, Ron was sitting across from her, shoveling food into his mouth, whilst Mr. Weasley sat drinking his tea and reading the morning edition of The Daily Prophet.
"Listen to this, 'Ministry incompetence to blame for the escape of two Death Eaters outside of Hull.'Of course there's no mention of the other three we were able to apprehend. Who wrote - ah yes, Rita Skeeter!"
"Arthur, dear, you really shouldn't worry so much about what that wretched woman writes," Mrs. Weasley said kindly as she sat down with her tea. "She has it out for the Ministry. Always has.
"Ginny, you're looking awfully pale. Is there anything the matter?"
At the mention of her name, Ginny noticed that she had been staring at the muffin in her hand for quite some time. "No. I'm fine, mum."
"Alright then," Molly said very much unconvinced. "Arthur, does the Order have any idea where they are going to be having the meetings from now on?"
"Why would they need a new meeting place?" Ginny gasped all thoughts of food gone from her mind. Her brothers stared at her wonderingly. "Has there been an attack at Grimmauld Place?"
"Rest easy, now," chuckled Mr. Weasley. "As far as we can tell, the Death Eaters still have no idea about number 12, thankfully. However, since Harry will be moving in there permanently within the next week, we thought it would be a good idea to have some back up options on the off chance that he should not want us in his house."
"Do you mean he gets to live on his own? How is that possible?" asked Ron dumbfounded.
"Well," began Arthur, unsurely, "Since there is so much happening right now, and much of it involving him, the Ministry has decided to grant Harry an Emancipated Waiver. This will allow him to have all of the legal rights and privileges of and adult. Not that he'll need it for very long since he'll be turning seventeen later this summer anyway. But with it he will be able to get his Apparation License, enter into contracts, and be able to collect upon all of his inheritances."
Everyone was silent, lost in their own thoughts. Fred and George were thinking up ways to have Harry fund their new product research; Ron said to himself, jealousy bubbling through his whole being What does he need more money for? He's got so much of it already?; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, both felt sorry for Harry and the hard life fate had dealt him, knowing that no amount of money could change his past; Ginny thought about how lonely it must be to be able to have everything, and yet still have nothing.
"Uhm, Arthur, you're going to be late. We can't have our new Minister of Stratagic Planning showing up late on his first day now, can we?" Molly teased as she straightened his tie and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Mr. Weasley's ears began to go red as he left the kitchen.
"When was Dad made a minister?" all the children asked, bewildered by the scene they had just witnessed.
"Oh, that," Molly's face began to glow a faint pink. "The Ministry owled him late last night saying he'd won the appointment. Isn't it grand! A minister in our family!"
A tear formed and threatened to slide down her cheek, until she noticed Fred and George still sitting at the table. "Don't you two need to get back to your joke of a shop?" Mrs. Weasley smiled at her own cleverness.
"Yes. We should be going."
"Yeah. We've got three new products being introduced today. You should really be there, mum," Fred said with barely restrained mischief.
"Ah, sadly I can't make it. Why don't you take Ron with you instead?"
Ron gulped at his mother's idea. Doesn't she realize what she's saying "Yeah, I guess I'll go. I can owl Harry and tell him about our good news," he said with a bit of true enthusiasm.
"Splendid idea, that! Come along Ronikins, off to work!" George was saying as he and Fred pulled him from the chair and nearly dragged him towards the fire.
"Make sure he comes home in one piece. The garden needs to be de-gnomed later on this week," Mrs. Weasley shouted from the kitchen sink.
"No worries mum!" And with that, the fire blazed to life and its green glow filtered through the rooms. It was soon followed by three voices calling "Weasley Wizard Wheezes".
The house was once again silent and empty of all male bodies – unless, of course, the ghoul in the attic counted.
"Ginny, will you help with the clean up?"
"Sure." Ginny began to stack plates and cups without thought. It was so rare to be able to just think without one of her annoying brothers barging in. So much had happened this morning, Ginny's mind began to churn uncontrollably. All she could think about was Harry's letter waiting for her upstairs. I guess I should write him back, tell him everything will work out. Oh, and finish reading it. That would probably help.
"Is there something bothering you, love?" Ginny stilled as she walked to the sink. "Your brothers aren't here. You know you can tell me anything," Molly said soothingly.
"No, there's nothing."
Molly just stared at her daughter, using the unconvinced intimidator-look that concerned mothers always wear.
"Well, actually there is something, but I can't talk about it right now. Could we do this a little later in the afternoon? Please."
Only slightly pacified by the promise of later talks, Molly agreed to her only daughter's request and watched her retreat up the stairs.
"There are days I'd swear that boys are easier."
Ginny walked up the stairs, dreading the thought of finishing Harry's letter.
'Oh, get over it! There must be a reason he would write to you. Why not Ron or Hermione? The least you can do is to try to help!'
'I know. I know' the struggle between herself finished, Ginny entered into the room and locked the door.
A sigh of surprise escaped her lips when she saw Hedwig was still in her room and had perched on the bedknob with her head tucked beneath a wing.
Ginny grabbed a quill and some parchment before jumping onto the bed. Hedwig fluttered up and turned to look at her reproachfully.
"Well, it is my room," Ginny said as she pulled open the drawer and removed Harry's letter.
Once again she unfolded the letter, but skimmed over most of it until reaching the final paragraph.
"What?" Ginny found herself rereading the words a second, a third, and on the fourth time did all of the words seem to fully sink in.
"He just asked me to move in with him and . . . he loves me. He loves me!" Ginny fell back onto the pillows, a smile plastered on her face. It was as though every wish she had had since she was ten years old was finally coming true.
Even though she had told everyone she was over Harry during her fourth year at Hogwarts, she had even dated a couple of guys over that time. The truth was that her feelings for Harry had never really diminished. If anything, they had only intensified as she grew to know the real Harry Potter. Not the hero, but the unconfident, shy, somewhat lost person that everyone else seemed to forget about and underestimate.
Getting to date Harry the last month or so of her fifth year had seemed to pass by so quickly, as though she were caught in a dream. However, like all dreams, as soon as everything had seemed to going well, the lights were turned on and the dream ended. Although it wasn't a real light that had extinguished their newly forming relationship, but the devastation of a world caught in a war.
"Ouch!" Ginny looked to see Hedwig perched on her knee with a sheet of parchment held in her beak. "Oh, right," she said blushing slightly at her purely feminine outburst from Harry's letter.
"Thanks Hedwig," as Ginny took the paper, Hedwig nibbled her finger before flying over to the bed stand. Ginny just stared at the owl for a moment, knowing that Harry was the only other person Hedwig had shown emotions for – owls, while being very intelligent, only bonded with a few people during their lifetime – and felt very honored. "I only hope that I'm good enough for him," she said as she dipped her quill into the ink.
Hedwig trilled a hoot of encouragement.
Ginny sat with the quill poised over the paper for more than a minute before setting it back down. Grabbing Harry's letter, she scrambled for the door.
"Mum! Mum, I need to - Oomph," Ginny had just turned onto the landing of the stairs when she ran into her mother, who was putting away the laundry.
"Where's the fire, dear?" Molly laughed as she bent to pick up the basket.
"Uhm, well, I got a letter from Harry this morning, and well," Ginny was so nervous, her hands fidgeted with the letter. "He said. . . He'd like. . . Oh, here. Just read it."
Mrs. Weasley straightened up from the floor, curious as to what could have made her daughter act so. She took the proffered letter and began to read.
As she read her eyes bulged at some points, gasps, which were a mixture of surprise and horror, escaped occasionally. By the time she had finished, she was as pale as the sheets residing in her basket.
"Oh, my! And you say that this arrived this morning. Do you think Harry has told anyone else?"
"I'm almost certain he will have written to Dumbledore and maybe to Lupin, but I'm not sure. I'll ask when I write back." Ginny paused for a moment, gathering her courage. "Mum, did you read the last paragraph? That - that's the most important part."
"No, I didn't," Molly's eyes scanned over the last few lines and found herself reading it a second time, not quite sure what else to do. Mrs. Weasley folded the letter and took a deep breath. "Ginny, come sit down with me."
Both women were quiet as they sat together on the stairs. Mrs. Weasley looked over at her daughter. Gone was the shy little girl who would chase after her brothers wanting to be exactly like them. She had grown into a tall, beautiful, young woman that was determined to cut her own path in life.
"You know what all of this means, don't you?" Ginny could only nod as emotions tumbled within her tying both her stomach and tongue into knots. "There doesn't seem to be much choice in the matter, considering the circumstances. You should go, and I know that Harry needs you, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to protect you both." Mrs. Weasley ended on a sob with tears running down her face.
"Oh, mum," Ginny threw her arms around her mother resting her head on her shoulder. "I know how dangerous this is going to be, but I don't want Harry to have to face it alone like he's had to do with everything else. He said he needs me and I won't be the one to let him down!"
"Well, then I guess we need to get you packed," Mrs. Weasley said as she wiped her face with one of the tea towels from the basket. "Your father will need to pull some strings at the Ministry for this, but we'll support you, dear." She took a deep breath and continued on a bit more cheerily. "Now, why don't you go and tell that charming man of yours the good news."
Ginny smiled down at her mother and gave her another hug before heading back to her room.