Disclaimer: Not madly rich and British.

LIJANHORN!?!

Ginny tore the Sorting Hat off of her head, her mind reeling. The Great Hall was silent. Utterly and completely silent. Lijanhorn? Was this some sort of a joke? Still sitting on the stool, Ginny tried to remain calm. All of the students were just staring at her…the silence was overwhelming, and, with a terrified yelp, she jumped up and ran from the hall.

She didn't know where she was running to, she just knew she had to get out of there. Would they kick her out of Hogwarts? Would she be some sort of poor ridiculed soul for the rest of her life? Would they make her return to Gryffindor? And, most importantly, why, oh why had Dumbledore insisted she be re-Sorted?

She stopped suddenly, panting, to get her bearings. She had just run blindly, and was startled to find herself outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The awful memories of her first year came flooding back, threatening, for just a moment, to beat back her other thoughts.

The moment passed, and, squaring her shoulders, she walked in. At least no one would think to look for her here…she hadn't returned here since, well, her first year at Hogwarts.

Myrtle swooped down from her perch near the window, and looked Ginny over. No tears, no blubbering, no complaining; she simply said, "You're back."

"Er…yes?" Ginny said uncertainly. She had never really been comfortable around Myrtle in her first year, for obvious reasons, and she didn't know how to act around her now. From what she had gathered from the Wonder Trio, Myrtle was easily ignored- getting upset over some small thing and then running away to fuss.

"You did horrible things last time you were here," Myrtle said solemnly, "You interrupted my crying sessions, and you threw a book at my head!"

"I…did?" She frowned, not remembering that event. Of course, much of her first year was a blur to her, both from her willful suppression of memories, and from Tom's magic. Ah yes. Tom. She remembered his face very clearly. She shook her head; apparently Myrtle had been speaking.

"…And so, Harry came and found the book. Harry Potter…he's a lovely thing, isn't he? Well-"

"Er…sorry Myrtle, I wasn't listening…" She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Myrtle was apt to run off and start crying at anything.

Myrtle looked startled, but waved her opaque hand dismissively, "Don't- don't worry about it." She paused at Ginny's surprised look, "I know, I know…I've spent nearly the past fifty years being…well, a brat. Ghosts can change and mature too, right?"

"If you say so," Ginny said skeptically, looking at her askance. She started abruptly, remembering what had brought her here. Dumbledore and his damnable Sorting Hat. "Um…I just came here to get away from…everyone, but I may as well ask you…"

"Ask me what?"

"Huh? OH…didn't realize I was talking. Well…have you ever heard of Lijanhorn?"

"No…no, can't say that I have."

"Oh."

"Why?"

Ginny frowned, and then shrugged. What harm would it do to tell Myrtle? "Well…this-summer-I-got-a-letter-from-Dumbledore-saying-I-was-being-re-Sorted-and-then-when-I-got-re-Sorted-the-stupid-Hat-just-called-out-Lijanhorn-and-there-isn't-a-House-called-Lijanhorn-so-I'm-afraid-they'll-kick-me-out-of-Hogwarts-or-send-me-back-to-the-Gryffindors," she blurted out.

"Oh." There was a pause, "I see."

"Yeah."

Myrtle scratched her head, an odd gesture for a ghost, and said, "Er…have you talked to Dumbledore? I think that's kind of the obvious thing to do…"

"He's the one that made me get re-Sorted in the first place," Ginny said plaintively, feeling like an eight-year old, "Why would I go to him?"

Myrtle smiled tolerantly, "If I, of all people…er, ghosts, can mature, I think you can at least give Dumbledore the chance to talk to you!"

Oh where was the Myrtle of yesteryear? The one who was able to make even the most miserable person feel good about themselves, because, at least they weren't that pathetic!? Ginny wasn't sure she like this new Myrtle…the one who was distinctively not moaning. She sighed, and rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'll go talk to Professor Dumbledore. Happy?"

The ghost smiled slowly, and nodded. "You will…what I mean is…well, will you come back and visit me?" Myrtle asked hopefully.

Ginny grinned, "Of course! Unless I get kicked out, that is," she added darkly. "Well…I'm off to my doom! I'll be back…hopefully…"

An uneasy smile on her face, Ginny left Myrtle's bathroom. She had to admit; the 'new' Myrtle was good company. She had been reasonable and decent to talk to. Nothing like what little she remembered of the ghost. She sighed. There was nothing left to do now but go up to Dumbledore's office and wait until the feast was over…it shouldn't last too much longer…

After getting lost twice on her way to the Headmaster's office, a fact that never ceased to amaze her…she had been going to this school for years, and she could still get lost, even when the place she was going was on the same floor, she glared at the statue, trying to remember what the password had been. "Er…lollipop!" she said triumphantly, and waited while the statue moved to reveal a staircase. Biting her lip nervously, she headed up the stairs, and was about to know when she heard the Headmaster's voice.

"Miss Weasley, do come in."

Opening the door, Ginny looked around the Headmaster's office for the second time that day, "Professor Dumbledore," she greeted him, "the feast…?"

"Ended nearly fifteen minutes ago whilst you wandered around the school," he said, smiling, "I know why you're here, and I've spoken with the Sorting Hat. It insists that this is not a joke, and that you are, indeed, the first member of the House of Lijanhorn."

She nodded, more than a little confused, "Er…no offense, professor, but…how? I've never heard of it before, and there were only the four founders of Hogwarts…and they each had only one House named after them. And there are only the four tables in the Great Hall…" She trailed off, realizing as she spoke, that her 'reasoning' was useless.

"Yes…yes, I have to admit, it was a surprise to me as well. You see, I've never heard of Lijanhorn, either," he admitted, "I can only assume that you will learn about your new House over the course of the year."

Ginny had been nodding the entire time Dumbledore had been speaking, and stopped suddenly when she realized it. "That's…nice and all…but…what about my classes? And Quidditch!"

Dumbledore smiled, "I'll meet with the other Professors, and I'm sure that they'll work you into their other classes. Am I correct in my assumption that you'd like to avoid the Gryffindors during classes?"

"Yes," she answered without thinking, "Well…no. But…yes," she gestured helplessly, "I'd like to avoid my brother, if that's possible…it'd be nice to have a class or two with Colin, but," she nodded decisively, "Yes, I'd like to avoid most Gryffindors."

"Very well…we'll do what we can. Sadly…as you are the only member of you House, you won't be able to play in any of the formal Quidditch matches. Though, I'm certain one of the teams will let you practice with them, if you like."

Ginny, whose face had fallen at first, brightened when she heard that she'd still have the chance to play. She played Quidditch for fun, not for the glory of her House, anyways. She didn't want to practice with the Gryffindors, that was certain, but she could play with Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. Her heart sank. For just a moment today, she had seen a side of the Slytherins that she had never seen before. Sure, they were still dark and all of that stuff, but Pansy had seemed, well, nice. And now that she wasn't a Slytherin, as the school had expected, the Slytherins were sure to be twice as cruel to her as they had been last year.

"-Weasley? Miss Weasley? You zoned out there for a minute," he cleared his throat, "As I was saying, there's a spare room on the fourth floor that will do nicely for your accommodations until we can find something more permanent. Or find out more about your new House. If you would follow me…"

Ginny found herself nodding again, inwardly berating herself for zoning out. It wasn't a good habit to get into. Wordlessly, she followed Dumbledore out of his office, down the stairs, across the second floor, and up two flights of stairs to the fourth floor. There was a huge mirror on her left, and she vaguely remembered the twins mentioning a caved in passageway out of Hogwarts. Dumbledore stopped in front of a dusty painting, and she peered at it, making out the figure of a sleeping…child?

"Ariana…Ariana," Dumbledore was saying softly, "Wake up." Dumbledore took out his wand and mumbled something and the painting became dust-free, revealing itself to be a portrait of a sleeping child from this century, slumped down on a couch. The child, who looked to be no older than seven, yawned and looked at Dumbledore through bleary eyes.

"Oh…hi Albus," Ariana said, trying valiantly to fight down a yawn, "You don't normally come visit now," she said, sounding confused. Just then, she noticed Ginny standing behind Dumbledore, "Hi…I'm Ariana. Who are you?"

"Ginny Weasley…"

"Nice to meet you," Ariana said formally, straightening in her seat, "Do you have a pony with you?"

Ginny was taken aback by the odd question, and looked at Dumbledore for guidance. Dumbledore, chuckling, responded, "No…Miss Weasley does not have a pony with her. Ariana, how would you like to have Miss Weasley stay in the room behind your painting?"

Ariana smiled, "She would see me every day, right?" Dumbledore nodded, "Then I'd like it…it gets lonely here," she said sadly.

A look of sadness crossed Dumbledore's face, but it was quickly banished by a smile, "She can move in tonight…all you'd have to do is remember her password."

"I can do that. As long as it isn't too long. Or in Latin. I don't understand Latin," she said importantly.

Ginny smiled, taking a liking to Ariana almost immediately. The child was so sweet! "Well then, Ariana…how about we make the password…um…" Ginny's brow furrowed as she tried to think of a decent password. Finally, rolling her eyes, "Ugh. Let's just make it 'buzzing bumblebees' for now. I can't think of anything else," she said apologetically.

Dumbledore had an amused expression on his face, "Very well. Do you think you can remember that?" Ariana nodded solemnly, and Dumbledore turned to address Ginny, "The house-elves will bring up your belongings later. You will be excused from classes for tomorrow so that your schedule can be worked out. I would suggest that you take your spare time to meet with our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher who'll be arriving early tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Miss Weasley," he said, and walked away, leaving Ginny to nod dumbly at his retreating back.

"Well then, Ariana…buzzing bumblebees it is. Good night, and sorry for waking you," she added as the portrait swung away to reveal her new lodgings. Stepping in, Ginny was…impressed. The prevalent color scheme seemed to be soft blues and greens. The walls were blue-green…similar to the color of the Mediterranean…or, at least, what she saw on her trip to Egypt, and the room was fairly large. There was a very inviting-looking bed against the far wall and a small table next to it, a desk on the right, and a table with four chairs in the left-hand corner. There were two doors on the left, which she assumed to be the bathroom and closet, but she was too tired to bother checking. That was why, when the house-elves came in an hour later, they found a sleeping Ginny sprawled out across the bed, lightly snoring.