A/N: This was going to be combined with the next chapter (still in progress), but I'm having trouble with it and I didn't want you guys to have to wait any longer (ya'll are spoiled compared to my Mummy fanfic readers, who've been waiting like...a year for the third rewrite and conclusion. Wow, I suck.). It's frustrating me that I haven't written any of these chapters longer than like, eight pages, but whatever. I figure it's better to put out more short chapters than fewer long ones.

Oh, and for some reason I keep changing from third person to first person to narrative, I don't know why. I keep going back to fix things, I think I got it all. If not I'm sorry.

And here's the chapter that screams 'I'm American'! I don't know the right slang or words for things, but I try to cover it up, lol.

Anyway, please...read, enjoy, review.

Ginny landed in front of the Burrow as the sky was beginning to become streaked with orange and pink. She'd been brought much further away than she'd thought, and it had taken so long to fly home that she had to stop to rest a few times. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten once that day. To top it off, she was in her pajamas. This wasn't going to be easy to explain.

She approached the door apprehensively, opening it slowly and peeking her head in, expecting her family to be gathered around the table, each looking at the clock worriedly, wondering where she'd gone without saying a word to anyone.

She shouldn't have been surprised when they weren't there.

Ginny entered the house slowly, gripping her broom to her body as she slowly walked through the rooms, looking for everyone. She heard Percy and Ron before she saw them, on the stairs screaming at each other. She couldn't even understand a word they said, she just saw them in each other's faces (which were both bright red), yelling and pointing in various directions.

She carefully took a few steps up, and they both turned to her.

"Ginny," Percy breathed, sounding relieved.

"Ginny!" shouted Ron, not sounding so relieved. He went down a few steps and took her by the shoulders. "Where the bloody hell were you?"

"I...I was just..."

"Ginevra!" cried her mother's voice behind her. "Where the bloody hell were you?"

Ginny's eyes widened at her mother's curse. She'd only heard her curse one other time in her life, and it was when Ginny had been in danger.

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

"Just what?" demanded Ron.

"Leave her alone," said Percy, walking up and pulling Ron back by his shoulder. "Just let her answer."

"I don't care about the answer," said Molly Weasely suddenly, "I don't care. You're not leaving this house again!"

"What?" said Ginny in surprise.

"For four months," decided Molly.

Ginny backed up a step, almost tripping over her feet. She could hardly go out as it was, and now she wouldn't even be allowed to see Hermione? Or Luna? "Where's dad?"

"Working late again," Molly snapped. This wasn't like her at all, but it was obvious all the fighting between Ron and Percy and the reclusiveness of George and Ginny was getting to her. "Now get upstairs to your room now, go!"

"But I haven't-"

"Go!"

Ginny spun and pushed her way between Percy and Ron and ran up the stairs. She paused when she reached the second floor, and walked quietly over to George's door. She pressed an ear against the wood. There was movement inside. So he was home. She reached a hand up to knock on the door, but decided against it. She might not be able to resist talking to him about things, and she didn't want another headache.

She walked into her room, closed the door behind her with her foot. Shikoba wasn't in her room, so he probably was put outside. A glance out the window confirmed it – he was hiding under a tree across the way. Lightning flashed in the sky, suggesting a storm on it's way. She felt a little bad for the bird left out in the rain, giving mournful cries. But she also didn't trust it.

Ginny spent most of the rest of the night slowly getting ready for bed, taking a hot bath and changing into a nightgown and lighting more candles. She picked up a book to read. She crawled under the covers and tried hard not to think about her family's anger (though she knew it was caused by worry, it hurt), the fact that she wouldn't be allowed to leave the house for months, about anything she'd read in those records. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to let it sink in. She hadn't found a way to get rid of him, so there was no reason to remember any of it. She just wanted to forget what Tom had said about falling...

Ginny growled, throwing the book down to the foot of her bed.

"You've made me be put on house arrest, are you happy?" she demanded. When she didn't get an answer, she continued. "You have taken away my whole life. I can't see my friends, I can't see Harry, you won't even let me see my brother! Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

There still wasn't a response. She supposed he didn't want to answer for his crimes. Or maybe the reason was obvious...he was evil. He enjoyed her pain. He always had...

Stop pretending you didn't read it.

"It doesn't mean anything," spat Ginny, sitting up in her bed. "It doesn't mean anything."

Yes, it does.

"No, it doesn't," she insisted. "If it did..."

If it did, what?

"If it did, you wouldn't be doing this to me!" she insisted.

Mignon McLaughlin, fifty eight, sixty two.

Ginny sighed. "I already read those, they didn't mean-"

The more you insist something doesn't mean anything, the more you show you know it does.

"You're not making sense," Ginny sighed, though she knew that sentence was one of the few things he'd said that wasn't completely cryptic. "I say it doesn't mean anything because it doesn't."

It is not for you to decide that.

"So what, you expect me to believe..."

Believe what?

"Nothing," sighed Ginny, falling back on her bed, refusing to think about the possibility. "Please leave me alone."

You began this conversation. It's time to finish it.

"No," insisted Ginny. "I won't." Now she'd decided. Tomorrow morning she would talk to Harry about this. About what was said in the Chamber that might possibly help her.

She waited for a sudden intense headache with this decision, but it didn't come. Instead she felt a strange wave of impending doom.

Remember that your King is in check, and be careful where you go from here.

Ginny sighed. She got up and blew out the candles, crawled into bed, and stared at the ceiling and flashes of light until she fell asleep.

Harry moved away from Ginny's door, frowning. He decided not to talk to her tonight. But something was very wrong. He almost hoped she was just talking to herself, even if it meant she was...mad...

The storm was still raging when Ginny woke the next morning. Instead of sunshine coming through her window, a sort of greyness leaked into her room. The air felt thick with something, an emotional heaviness. Depression, probably. Not only was she deprived of family, friends and freedom, she didn't get to have sunlight either.

She crawled out of bed and looked inside her dresser. She pulled out some of the Muggle clothing Hermione had given her – a yellow dress, to make up for the lack of sunlight. But it was cool inside the house, so she slipped on a cream-colored sweater with slightly puffy sleeves and extra large buttons. She debated a moment, then put on a pair of white fluffy slippers before heading out of her room.

She went down the stairs and into the dining room. Empty, as was usual lately. She found some leftovers though, which told her she'd slept longer than she'd thought. She ate whatever she found that was still left (starving after not eating the day before), then went and collapsed on the sofa. Eating that much after not eating for so long made her feel sick. She closed her eyes, and listened to the rain falling outside. There weren't any other sounds in the house. Maybe everyone was gone.

Now would be the perfect time to go outside...

She groaned, and rolled over to face the couch.

"Ginny," came a voice behind her. She turned, smiled weakly.

"Hi, Dad," said Ginny, sitting up, wiping the tears from her eyes. Had she been crying?

"I heard about the grounding," he sighed, sitting on the couch next to her. He looked half-dead. The home life was stressful, as was work. Now that the war was over and everything had settled down (for the most part), everyone was under investigation for illegal things that had happened during the war. They'd been done to defeat Voldemort, but the Minister didn't seem to care. Ginny's father was both investigating and being investigated, eating much of his time and energy. And the nights he did get home, he had to deal with Ron and Percy fighting, and Ginny and George hiding, and his wife spending most of her time crying in the bedroom.

"Yeah," Ginny responded.

"Can't leave the house?"

Ginny sat up, shrugging. "I didn't really, anyway."

"You shouldn't have left the house without telling her."

It wasn't my fault! she screamed in her mind, but knew she couldn't tell him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Her father nodded, and then headed out the door without another word. Ginny frowned, and pushed her face into the couch cushions with a sigh.

Artificial: Please review!