Will Turner was not one for parties. He knew it, the governor knew it…hell, even Jack Sparrow knew it. Parties and Will just didn't mix. No matter how hard one stirred the pot he always felt awkward, unwanted and, most of the time, managed to break something quite spectacularly by the end of the night. It was a running joke amongst the maids of the household that they would never be out of jobs just so long as Will Turner turned up to the Governor's little gatherings every once in a while.

Yet despite all this, here he was, amongst the crowd once more, subjected to the mindless chatter and inane giggling that was the elite of Port Royal, and why?

Will practically felt his muscles relax a bit as the reason he was putting up with all of this once more invaded his thoughts…as she was prone to doing most of the time.

Elizabeth Swann. His greatest annoyance and his greatest weakness - she had asked and he had come; it was as simple as that. And so now he stood, rooted to the corner next to some manner of potted tropical plant with determination enough to rival the Royal Navy that he would not move until either the world or the party ended.

He sighed and then stiffened when an answering huff sounded from the plant beside him. Somehow he didn't think it right that a plant be making such sounds, no matter how tropical it was. He looked down through the foliage suspiciously and caught sight of a delicately booted foot scuffing the floor on the opposite side of the pot.

"So what's your excuse?"

He jumped at the question, almost pitching face-first into the plant. Clearing his throat he attempted to muster the sort of pomp he'd always heard being paraded around at these parties. The fact that he seemed to be talking to a plant wasn't aiding him.

"My excuse?"

"For hiding."

The voice was female, he was able to garner that much. He didn't recognise it otherwise.

"I'm not hiding."

"Are too."

Will was taken aback with the forthrightness of it and found himself retorting without thinking.

"Am…not."

The voice laughed and Will felt his lips quirking despite himself. A hand suddenly poked out of the foliage at his side.

"I'm Ginny Weasley," said the voice. Will grinned a bit at the absurdity of it as he took the hand and shook it.

"Will Turner."

"Well Will Turner, I ask again, what's you're excuse?"

Will turned his attention back to the room teeming with chattering ladies and lords.

"I don't really like parties," he admitted.

The voice called Ginny hmphed.

"And you?" Will asked, aiming his question at the plant for lack of anything else to aim at. "What's your excuse?"

"The people."

Will frowned.

"The people?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "The parties I don't really mind myself…it's the people. Mostly the number of them and the fact I don't really know any of them."

"Ah right."

"What in gods name are you two doing?"

Will looked up from his conversation through the plant in surprise. Standing before him was Elizabeth, hands on hips and with a look on her face that suggested she'd just caught him…having a conversation through a plant. Will tried to smile a smile that would gain him back some dignity.

"We were just talking," Ginny said from the other side of the foliage. Elizabeth laughed in that way she had that set something dropping in his gut and pulled Will out from behind the plant where he finally got a look at his partner in conversation. She was pretty, a little bit short but with a most amazing head of vivid red hair. Unlike most of the ladies at the party she had left her hair down and mostly free with only two strands hooked up behind her head from each temple. The smile she flashed at him was shy but genuine as she nodded to him.

"Nice to see you Mister Turner."

Will laughed before he could stop himself and Elizabeth rolled her eyes beside him.

"Honestly, you two are as bad as each other hiding in the corners conversing through plants."

Will grinned and slid his hand about her waist briefly. It was nice being able to touch Elizabeth but he was still loath to push it in the governors own house.

"Ah, you're just narky you're too tall to hide behind the pot plants," Ginny said teasingly and Will was taken aback for a moment when Elizabeth laughed lightly…and genuinely – something unusual at her father's gatherings. In truth Will knew that Elizabeth hated the parties quite as much as he did. The only difference was, being the governor's daughter, she couldn't hide in corners as easily as he could.

Still smiling, Elizabeth turned to him.

"Ginny here, who I see you've already met, is one of the students from Charden's College come to stay with my father and I."

Will nodded his head as was polite. Ginny waved. Will almost laughed at the lack of decorum. He loved it. He could see why Elizabeth was so familiar with the girl now. Once you were liked by Elizabeth Swann formalities tended to take a flying leap and Ginny was certainly proving likable.

The introductions continued.

"Will here is my…close friend."

Will's cheer dropped a notch at the pause between words. He and Elizabeth were both frustrated with not being able to give their feelings for each other a recognised title. He did hope one day soon to be able to call her his Fiancé but he first had to afford a suitable ring not to mention tackle the task of asking her father's permission. That was going to be fun for all the family right there.

"Ah," Ginny nodded. "Gotcha. How long have you two been together?"

Will's mouth hung open. People didn't speak about him and Elizabeth. His standing obviously made it a talking point but people didn't really acknowledge it as courting. He honestly didn't know what they viewed it as…he couldn't really bring himself to care when he was with her. But here was Ginny Weasley standing before them and asking them how long they'd been seeing each other – like it was a normal state of affairs.

"A little over three months now," Elizabeth answered for them both, still smiling.

Ginny smiled. "Cool."

Perhaps the night was not a total waste after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny watched Will and Elizabeth during dinner. It was Mr. Brown's Will, there was no doubting it. The blacksmith. He was a very pretty guy, even Ginny could see it. One of those pinnacles of hotness Draco was always going of about that would have him shaking his fists at the roof and screaming 'Why isn't he gay?'.

Combining Will's mouth-wateriness and Elizabeth's beauty they were certainly one gorgeous couple. It was a pity their union was so frowned upon in this time. Ginny had a feeling that they weren't going to let it get in their way though. Their love for each other could most likely be seen by a blind man - no way was a little bit of frowning going to keep them apart. Ginny liked it. It was nice to know that kind of love existed. Plus it was funny seeing some of the nobly people's faces screw up when Elizabeth insisted Will be allowed to sit next to her.

"Do you like the soup?"

Ginny's attentions turned to the source of the question, a short, slightly podgy man dressed all in black sitting next to her.

"Ah…yes, it's good."

"Yes," the man smiled a smile that used all the required muscles yet still managed to not mean anything. Ginny immediately didn't like him.

"My name is Father Victor Mimsey by the way."

Ginny almost rolled her eyes. Oh fabulous. A seventeenth century priest – just what she needed.

"Ginny Weasley."

She turned back to her soup and hoped that would be the extent of the conversation. No such luck.

"You are one of the Charden girls from England yes?"

Ginny nodded sinking lower in her chair.

"I thought so," he said as though he'd just aced a test. "I hail from the mother county myself and I have to say I do miss it. I do a lot of travel in my line of work as you can imagine and I find there's nothing like roughing it to make you really miss home."

Ginny looked at Mimsey and then around at the elegantly decorated dining room. He didn't seem to catch the gesture.

"So, ah, what is it you do Father Mimsey?" Ginny asked, trying her hardest to be polite as she took a sip of wine.

"I catch witches."

Ginny chocked on the wine. Mimsey chuckled to himself not noticing.

"Well no, not really. I do confess witchcraft is a little side mission of mine. Catching the devil at work, purging innocent souls of the evil in their midst-"

Ginny stared with her mouth open at the little priest who seemed to have let his mask of sanity slip for a moment. Then it was back.

"But my days are usually spent spreading god's word. Bringing light to the heathens."

"So what are you doing in Port Royal?" said Ginny.

Mimsey's smile said it all. Bringing light to the heathens. Ginny nearly recoiled. What a horrible little man.

"Father Mimsey, would you care for more wine?"

Ginny looked up at the blessed interruption and was met with the face of one of the noble's. This one had on one of those atrocious curly wigs that made grown men look like cream puffs. Though there was less lace adorning the rest of this particular figure; instead he was decked out in military garb. The look on his face told her that he knew exactly what he was interrupting and she couldn't help but feel grateful to him for it.

"Ah, no thank you Commodore Norrington. I've had quite enough," Mimsey said, extending the smile that wasn't a smile at the cream puff that was a Commodore. Commodore Norrington nodded to him, sparing Ginny a look before returning to his own soup.

Ginny bowed her head over her own meal. She couldn't wait for the night to end and she could be away again, by herself, thinking of morning. Morning. Ginny smiled into her soup. A tour by ship of the Caribbean had been arranged. It was to be the highlight of the class's excursion into the past. Come morning she was going to be out at sea with only the waves to annoy her. No nobles, no lace…no priest.

"So Miss Weasley, what part of England are you from?"

She was saved from answering when Will managed to break one of the legs off the table.