Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!

Raiining--Ginny's figured out a lot about Sirius Black, but not everything...not yet. ;-) Her reaction to the events at the Quidditch cup should be VERY interesting, I agree...*muses* I won't ruin the surprise for you...it's much more fun to discover it with the character! Thanks for the luck...I'll give it to my sister, who does have school exams coming up. :-D

J. Rhaye--Absolutely...we grow and mature, but we never loose that essence that is who we are. *winks* That's one of the great things about story-telling! I couldn't have put Ginny's feelings about Harry better myself...love is that constant and incredibly mutable thing we spend our whole lives learning about and never completely define...and anyone we love--truly and completely love--always belongs to us and is with us in some small way for the rest of our lives, no matter what may come. It's amazing! As is Ginny...as you say, she's quite perceptive about all sorts of things the other characters don't seem to notice...and that is what makes her such an interesting and likeable character! Great review! *hugs*

EEDOE--That line is absolutely a classic. *winks* I imagine Ginny helps her Mum in the kitchen quite a bit with so many boys to feed...and if she knew it was for Harry, I'm sure she couldn't be kept away! *laughs* I can relate to the urge to scream, but I rather suspect the plot holes are deliberate and completely within the framework of Harry's viewpoint...he is, after all, a boy, however remarkable, and can't be expected to notice EVERYTHING. *winks* I'm afraid I can't take credit for the genius of Molly Weasley, much as I might like too...that is pure JK. *sighs* But I'll be satisfied that you liked my little add-in line about Bill, Charlie, and the tables! *grins* I love that image of Fred and George myself...it seems...very reminiscent of something...or someone...maybe a pirate...*coughs* I love writing about nature...it always lends itself to endless artistic imagery...you could play with poetic phrases forever and not quite do it justice. Ooh...Molly's reaction *goes into gales of laughter and takes several minutes to recover enough to continue typing* And her brothers! Especially the twins and Percy! *claps* I LOVe the way your mind works *winks* Yes, the best love is like that...you hate it and you love it and you love hating it and you hate loving it...*smirks and sighs* *laughs* I love a good eye roll *winks* Can't wait to hear your thoughts next time! *hugs*

Bill--You're making me blush! *grins and lowers lashes shyly* I think one of the coolest things about the HP revolution is the way it introduces so many generations to the British sense of humour and extended language and expression they've never appreciated! *laughs* The truth is men aren't the only ones who are terrorital--often times, they may not even be the best ones...there is NOTHING to compare to a woman's protective instinct applied to those they love (not just children, as most often acknowledged) *grins and shrugs* Yes, Hermione did have some bad timing there...but I suspect she also had the best of intentions...and Ginny wasn't ready to explain her relationship with Lupin anyway, even if I agree it probably would have impressed Harry. *sighs* Intimacy is much like a potion...it takes time, patience, balance...and, above all, subtlety to make it come out right in the end. EXACTLY--I agree with you about Molly. She means well, but her limited viewpoint causes more harm than good. *winces* Yes, *grins* Ginny appreciates fine art! *laughs* Ginny's interaction with Bill is one of my favorite moments as well...I agree that she will mature to be much like a balance between Bill and the twins, though always with her own twist. *winks* Hmm...perhaps Ginny would make a good Auror, but I wonder if she isn't a bit too subtle for such straightforward goals...perhaps the Department of Mysteries...although, she works best independently...Thanks for so much to think about...I love playing with ideas. *smirks and winks* *hugs*

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Mum's hand on her shoulder woke her the next morning. "Time to go, dear." Ginny groaned and tried to roll over, only to realize something was at the bottom of the bed, weighting her feet down. Several dazed seconds of foot wiggling later, she noticed it was vibrating slightly, almost like a purr. Raising up a sliver, she could see a puddle of ginger fur spread across her feet. Crookshanks. "Awww...you're so cute," she crooned, stretching as far as she could, and just barely managing to brush the tips of her finger across the top of his fur. "I wish I had a cat like you."

"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione mumbled sleepily, sitting up next to her in the bed. "Good morning, Crookshanks." She reached down and scratched briefly between his ears. "Sweet kitty."

"We appreciate the attention," Ginny added politely, "but could you let us up now? We're sort of on a schedule."

Crookshanks opened one yellow eye, surveyed them unblinkingly, then jumped to the floor.

"Thank you?" Ginny said hesitantly.

Crookshanks purred, and stalked from the room, brushy tail held high.

Ginny struggled groggily into the worn blue jeans and fuzzy white sweater Hermione had helped her pick out the night before. She laced up her black and white sneakers over the orange socks she'd stolen from Percy, and wrapped the old filmy green scarf she'd found around her neck. She swayed drowsily at the foot of the bed, waiting on Hermione to finish dressing, and they stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen together.

Fred, George, Ron and Harry were already there with Mum and Dad. Harry looked incredibly appealing in the too-large jeans lashed to his frame with a worn black belt and thick sweater-which looked a lot like one of Mum's Weasley sweaters-his dark hair rumpled all across his temples, his emerald eyes shining with anticipation. Ginny was almost too tired to notice. She had to rub her eyes to clear her vision. "Why do we have to be up so early?" She sat next to him with a heavy thump, and reached for the coffee pot.

"We've got a bit of a walk," Dad said apologetically.

"Walk?" Harry repeated. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away. We just need to walk a short way," Dad assured them at large as Hermione poured cream over her porridge. "It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup--"

"George!" The sound of Mum's voice made everyone jump. Harry's fingers slid over hers on the tabletop. Ginny yanked her hand hastily away and tried to breathe. "What?" George asked in a poor imitation of innocence.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Even without her coffee, she thought she could have come up with something better than that. Mum obviously thought so, too. "Don't you lie to me!" She snapped, pointing her wand at George's pocket. "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed toward her. George dove after them, too late, and Mum caught them neatly in her hand. "We told you to destroy them," Mum said, glaring at the objects, which looked like the twins' Ton-tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!" The twins started to comply with deliberate slowness, and sensing the upcoming battle, Mum took the more expedient route of repeating the summoning charm she had just used. "Accio! Accio! Accio!" The room was filled with toffees like small and exotic birds emerging from the most unlikely of nesting spots in the twins' clothes.

"We spent sixth months developing those!" Fred shouted desperately as Mum threw them away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!" Ginny yawned, and tried to relax enough to drink her coffee. She managed about half the cup before the twins were hurrying her out the door without a word in Mum's direction.

"Well, have a lovely time," Mum called after them, "and behave yourselves!"

The twins didn't look back or answer. Ginny thought that was a bit mean, but she knew she probably would have done much the same in their situation. She sighed as the rest of the group followed after them.

It was chilly, making her nose and cheeks sting in the air, and the moon hung huge and looming overhead. Ginny usually liked the moon, but instead of silvery and romantic, it looked almost pale and threatening this morning. The horizon was a dull green line in the distance. Next to her, Harry was just a solid dark shadow...but she supposed that was what his presence in her life was usually like. Harry pulled slightly ahead to talk to Dad about how they were going to get to the World Cup. Ginny, too sleepy to hurry, was content to trudge along at Hermione's slower pace, staring vacantly into the space around her and thinking little.

The sky lightened slightly as they trudged through Ottery St. Catchpole, but it didn't get any warmer. Ginny took to holding her hands in front of her face, rubbing them together and breathing across them in spurts as she stamped her feet. In the vague blue light of the early morning, Stoatshead Hill seemed like a vertical climb. Even Harry was out of breath by the time they reached the top, and he was an excellent athlete.

"Whew!" panted Dad, wiping his glasses on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time-we've got ten minutes...Now we just need the Portkey. It won't be big...come on..."



They had barely begun searching when someone shouted, "Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" There were two tall figures on the other side of the hilltop.



"Amos!" Dad exclaimed, smiling, and went over to met them, the rest of the group fast on his heels. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," he said, shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scraggly brown beard. Amos Diggory was holding a very decrepit-looking boot in his other hand. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"