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-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work (In the meantime, may I recommend "Pirates from Potions by EEDOE, "That Muted Sort of Longing" by Serendipity, "Transfixed" by Lovely-Lina1985, or "The Ginny Chronicles" by Casca?) I hope you're still willing 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! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.
Hairy_Hen--Oooh...I love a new reviewer! *grins* I'm glad you find the story interesting (there are two prequels you might enjoy as well) and hope you'll keep reading. It is a lot of fun to have Ginny so observant, and I totally agree about infatuation! I hope you'll review again! :-)
Raiining--Great! I'm glad! :-)
Bee11--No need to apologize...my absence has been just as bad, if not worse. I'm glad you're back to review now. :-)I understand what you mean about the Quidditch game...I never dreamed it would take this long! *grins* Still...I think it's coming to a close, so hopefully you'll have more to comment on soon. *hugs*
J.Rhaye--I don't think you've reviewed yet, but it just didn't feel right not to mention you! Hi!! :-)
EEDOE--I'm glad you liked that little touch with Ginny already considering Chasing. After all, she does it so well. *winks* I agree...those accidents threatening the ones we love can be hideous...and the imagined ones aren't much better. *shudders* Bleh. Poor Ginny. I think you have a point...Weasley Red, the color recognized round the world. *smirks* It's a start at a unified world, I suppose. *shrugs and grins* I love that last little glimpse of Mr. Weasley and Bill. *giggles* What a great review! *hugs*
Bill--I liked the rapid-fire pace of the last chapter too...everything flew by in a bit of blur,it was a completely different feeling from the scenes I tend to write. *grins and shrugs* I definitely think Ginny is considering her own Quidditch future...after all, what's more inspiring to a hopeful athlete than the World Cup? Charlie is very sweet here, which I liked. *grins* I'm not sure if he caught on to Ginny's fears about Harry, or just thought his little sister was being a bit squeamish about seeing people hurt, but either way, the reassurance was well-done. :-) I'm glad you thought the chapter was worth the wait! *wipes sweat off brow and beams* I hope you like this one, too! *hugs*
If I missed replying to any reviews, I apologize, but now that I've had a chance to think about it, I'm really anxious to run with the story while I can. *grins sheepishly* Rest assured, I do appreciate ALL my reviews!
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Discussing the Quidditch World Cup was even better than...well...watching the Quidditch World Cup. Try as they might, no one could get Fred or George to explain how they'd managed to predict the outcome so accurately, though Ginny got the distinct impression that if she really wanted to try worming it out of them in the future, they might be willing. In the meantime, everyone was still more than entertained. Charlie and Harry argued the merits of Lynch as Seeker, versus those of Krum, with Harry maintaining (staunchly supported by Ron) that Krum was absolutely brilliant, while Charlie said that Krum's brash style actually put him at a slight disadvantage because it left him so prone to injury, and might distract other members of his team, not to mention using up a lot of his concentration that ought to be focused on finding the Snitch. Though, as Harry (and Ron) maintained, Krum didn't seem to be too behind in that area anyway. Ginny couldn't help being absolutely fascinated by the discussion, more because of what was revealed not only about her brother, but Harry, in their opinions, but she was even more interested in Dad's conversation with Bill, comparing the strengths and weaknesses of opposing Chaser styles and strategies. She had never realized the complexity of Quidditch.
As if the discussion weren't exciting enough, Dad had even made Ginny's favorite hot chocolate...which turned out to be surprisingly good. Full, warm, and entertained, Ginny found herself floating slowly away from her chair in the direction of cloud nine. She saw stands spilling over with an ocean of faces, heard the roaring tide of their voices, felt her broom swoop and sway as she shifted her weight...a heavy bludger plummeted toward her, and she swerved away from it, feeling it strike the edge of her elbow, which bloomed not with pain, but something warm and wet...
"Oops-looks like Ginny's tired of our company again," she heard Bill say, his voice lit with affection.
"Sorry? What?" Ginny mumbled, shifting upward in her chair, trying to pry her eyes open.
"No need to apologize," Charlie assured her cheerfully. "We'll have your cocoa mopped up in no time, Sleepyhead."
Ginny felt her face flush, but she knew she wasn't blushing like she normally would-she was too tired to be embarrassed.
"It's far later than we realized," added Dad matter-of-factly. "We all should be in bed."
It must have been late indeed, because no one really argued. Ginny and Hermione leaned against one another, holding each other up on their way to their tent. Hermione took the time to put on her pajamas, but Ginny just kicked off her shoes and tumbled fully clothed into bed.
Hearing her father shout her name felt like being roused from the dead. Rubbing her eyes as she kicked herself into a position somewhere close to upright, Ginny looked over at Hermione, who stared back, eyes wide. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Hermione answered, and Ginny wondered if she'd imagined the waver in her voice.
"Ginny," Dad called again, "Hurry!"
Exchanging another glance with Hermione, Ginny stumbled out of the tent toward the campground. The cold air hit her with a shock as she realized the strange sound in the background-it was screaming.
"We're going to help the Ministry," Dad explained. Ginny's hands stopped in mid-air as she fought the urge to clutch at him. "You lot get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted all this out."
Ginny blinked, suddenly seeing what she'd been looking at. A large crowd had gathered not far away, all of them looking up...and over their heads the Roberts family rotated. The mother was upside down, all but hidden by the drifts of her nightdress.
Ginny stared, repelled, but oddly fascinated, until Fred pulled her away with a jerk. She barely noticed her own motion, occupied in staring back at the crowd, wondering what had happened and how Dad, Percy, Bill and Charlie were going to save the Roberts. People pushed in on her from all sides. She felt trapped, threatened, claustrophobic. She took deep, cleansing breaths. Fred squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She squeezed back, feeling better.
Until she realized Ron was missing.
"Fred!" She shouted, or tried to. They'd been running so long it came out as more of a gasp.
"Stop!"
"Sorry, Gin, I don't think that's a good id--"
"Hey, where are Harry and Hermione?" George interrupted, turning in wild circles to search all around him, nearly sitting down in the process.
"They're probably with Ron," Fred said, stopping to look back over his shoulder.
"Which is what I've been trying to tell you," Ginny pointed out. "Ron is missing."
"What?"
"They must have gone off on their own," George observed wryly, crossing his arms and sitting down on a stump. "You know how those three--"
"Always getting into trouble," Fred finished with a snort, rolling his eyes. "This is just brilliant."
"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked, fear squeezing tight through her chest, even though the worst of the screams had died away. "We have to find them!"
"In this crowd?" Fred answered her, looking at George.
"They could be anywhere," George added.
"So we're not even going to look?" Ginny demanded hotly, rounding on him.
George leaned back and extended his arms, the palms out and turned up in surrender. "We're more likely to find them--"
"If we stay put," Fred agreed, nodding. "So that they--"
"Can come to us," George concluded sagely.
Ginny swallowed against the lump in her throat; she was feeling trapped again.
"Don't worry, Gin," Fred said, not without sympathy, "They can take care of themselves, those three."
"They've gotten out of trouble worse than this, haven't they?" George added with a proud grin.
Ginny could never help responding to that grin. But her answering expression felt strangely compressed.
"So..." George added speculatively, turning his grin on Fred, "do you want to know how we knew the outcome of the game?"
"Or not?" Fred added his own satisfied grin.
Ginny glanced between them, gave a shrug and a sigh, and sat down on a corner of George's stump.
"This," she said warningly, "had better be good."
"Get down," Fred hissed. George was already pulling her behind the stump. Ginny bit off the end of a surprised gasp.
"It's okay," Dad's voice filtered through the somewhat eerie silence. "But I'm glad to see you're being cautious."
The three of them walked around the stump, brushing bits of mud and leaves off their clothes. The reassuring smile on Dad's face slowly faded into tense surprise. "Where are the others-you aren't all here?"
"We got separated," Fred said apologetically.
"Sorry, Dad," George added, "We tried, really we did, but--"
"It was dark, unfamiliar, and filled with a lot of frightened people," Dad said resignedly. "It's okay, boys, I'm sure you did your best. Do you know your way back to the campsite?"
George nodded. "Sure, no problem, it's over that way." He pointed.
"Okay...you take your sister back there. I'll go look for the others."
They had just come within sight of camp when the clearing flashed with a serpentine green light. Ginny felt her skin ice over. Heart frozen in her chest, scarcely daring to breath, she slowly looked up. She had often imagined Harry's eyes looked like green stars, but they were nothing like the ominous green pinpricks of light that hung in a noxious nebula overhead. It was shaped like a skull with a snake slithering from its mouth. Ginny knew immediately. It was a sign. It was His sign. It was too similar to the basilisk in the Chamber to be anything else.
Promptly, and without ceremony, Ginny threw up.
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work (In the meantime, may I recommend "Pirates from Potions by EEDOE, "That Muted Sort of Longing" by Serendipity, "Transfixed" by Lovely-Lina1985, or "The Ginny Chronicles" by Casca?) I hope you're still willing 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! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.
Hairy_Hen--Oooh...I love a new reviewer! *grins* I'm glad you find the story interesting (there are two prequels you might enjoy as well) and hope you'll keep reading. It is a lot of fun to have Ginny so observant, and I totally agree about infatuation! I hope you'll review again! :-)
Raiining--Great! I'm glad! :-)
Bee11--No need to apologize...my absence has been just as bad, if not worse. I'm glad you're back to review now. :-)I understand what you mean about the Quidditch game...I never dreamed it would take this long! *grins* Still...I think it's coming to a close, so hopefully you'll have more to comment on soon. *hugs*
J.Rhaye--I don't think you've reviewed yet, but it just didn't feel right not to mention you! Hi!! :-)
EEDOE--I'm glad you liked that little touch with Ginny already considering Chasing. After all, she does it so well. *winks* I agree...those accidents threatening the ones we love can be hideous...and the imagined ones aren't much better. *shudders* Bleh. Poor Ginny. I think you have a point...Weasley Red, the color recognized round the world. *smirks* It's a start at a unified world, I suppose. *shrugs and grins* I love that last little glimpse of Mr. Weasley and Bill. *giggles* What a great review! *hugs*
Bill--I liked the rapid-fire pace of the last chapter too...everything flew by in a bit of blur,it was a completely different feeling from the scenes I tend to write. *grins and shrugs* I definitely think Ginny is considering her own Quidditch future...after all, what's more inspiring to a hopeful athlete than the World Cup? Charlie is very sweet here, which I liked. *grins* I'm not sure if he caught on to Ginny's fears about Harry, or just thought his little sister was being a bit squeamish about seeing people hurt, but either way, the reassurance was well-done. :-) I'm glad you thought the chapter was worth the wait! *wipes sweat off brow and beams* I hope you like this one, too! *hugs*
If I missed replying to any reviews, I apologize, but now that I've had a chance to think about it, I'm really anxious to run with the story while I can. *grins sheepishly* Rest assured, I do appreciate ALL my reviews!
*****************************************************************************************************
Discussing the Quidditch World Cup was even better than...well...watching the Quidditch World Cup. Try as they might, no one could get Fred or George to explain how they'd managed to predict the outcome so accurately, though Ginny got the distinct impression that if she really wanted to try worming it out of them in the future, they might be willing. In the meantime, everyone was still more than entertained. Charlie and Harry argued the merits of Lynch as Seeker, versus those of Krum, with Harry maintaining (staunchly supported by Ron) that Krum was absolutely brilliant, while Charlie said that Krum's brash style actually put him at a slight disadvantage because it left him so prone to injury, and might distract other members of his team, not to mention using up a lot of his concentration that ought to be focused on finding the Snitch. Though, as Harry (and Ron) maintained, Krum didn't seem to be too behind in that area anyway. Ginny couldn't help being absolutely fascinated by the discussion, more because of what was revealed not only about her brother, but Harry, in their opinions, but she was even more interested in Dad's conversation with Bill, comparing the strengths and weaknesses of opposing Chaser styles and strategies. She had never realized the complexity of Quidditch.
As if the discussion weren't exciting enough, Dad had even made Ginny's favorite hot chocolate...which turned out to be surprisingly good. Full, warm, and entertained, Ginny found herself floating slowly away from her chair in the direction of cloud nine. She saw stands spilling over with an ocean of faces, heard the roaring tide of their voices, felt her broom swoop and sway as she shifted her weight...a heavy bludger plummeted toward her, and she swerved away from it, feeling it strike the edge of her elbow, which bloomed not with pain, but something warm and wet...
"Oops-looks like Ginny's tired of our company again," she heard Bill say, his voice lit with affection.
"Sorry? What?" Ginny mumbled, shifting upward in her chair, trying to pry her eyes open.
"No need to apologize," Charlie assured her cheerfully. "We'll have your cocoa mopped up in no time, Sleepyhead."
Ginny felt her face flush, but she knew she wasn't blushing like she normally would-she was too tired to be embarrassed.
"It's far later than we realized," added Dad matter-of-factly. "We all should be in bed."
It must have been late indeed, because no one really argued. Ginny and Hermione leaned against one another, holding each other up on their way to their tent. Hermione took the time to put on her pajamas, but Ginny just kicked off her shoes and tumbled fully clothed into bed.
Hearing her father shout her name felt like being roused from the dead. Rubbing her eyes as she kicked herself into a position somewhere close to upright, Ginny looked over at Hermione, who stared back, eyes wide. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Hermione answered, and Ginny wondered if she'd imagined the waver in her voice.
"Ginny," Dad called again, "Hurry!"
Exchanging another glance with Hermione, Ginny stumbled out of the tent toward the campground. The cold air hit her with a shock as she realized the strange sound in the background-it was screaming.
"We're going to help the Ministry," Dad explained. Ginny's hands stopped in mid-air as she fought the urge to clutch at him. "You lot get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted all this out."
Ginny blinked, suddenly seeing what she'd been looking at. A large crowd had gathered not far away, all of them looking up...and over their heads the Roberts family rotated. The mother was upside down, all but hidden by the drifts of her nightdress.
Ginny stared, repelled, but oddly fascinated, until Fred pulled her away with a jerk. She barely noticed her own motion, occupied in staring back at the crowd, wondering what had happened and how Dad, Percy, Bill and Charlie were going to save the Roberts. People pushed in on her from all sides. She felt trapped, threatened, claustrophobic. She took deep, cleansing breaths. Fred squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She squeezed back, feeling better.
Until she realized Ron was missing.
"Fred!" She shouted, or tried to. They'd been running so long it came out as more of a gasp.
"Stop!"
"Sorry, Gin, I don't think that's a good id--"
"Hey, where are Harry and Hermione?" George interrupted, turning in wild circles to search all around him, nearly sitting down in the process.
"They're probably with Ron," Fred said, stopping to look back over his shoulder.
"Which is what I've been trying to tell you," Ginny pointed out. "Ron is missing."
"What?"
"They must have gone off on their own," George observed wryly, crossing his arms and sitting down on a stump. "You know how those three--"
"Always getting into trouble," Fred finished with a snort, rolling his eyes. "This is just brilliant."
"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked, fear squeezing tight through her chest, even though the worst of the screams had died away. "We have to find them!"
"In this crowd?" Fred answered her, looking at George.
"They could be anywhere," George added.
"So we're not even going to look?" Ginny demanded hotly, rounding on him.
George leaned back and extended his arms, the palms out and turned up in surrender. "We're more likely to find them--"
"If we stay put," Fred agreed, nodding. "So that they--"
"Can come to us," George concluded sagely.
Ginny swallowed against the lump in her throat; she was feeling trapped again.
"Don't worry, Gin," Fred said, not without sympathy, "They can take care of themselves, those three."
"They've gotten out of trouble worse than this, haven't they?" George added with a proud grin.
Ginny could never help responding to that grin. But her answering expression felt strangely compressed.
"So..." George added speculatively, turning his grin on Fred, "do you want to know how we knew the outcome of the game?"
"Or not?" Fred added his own satisfied grin.
Ginny glanced between them, gave a shrug and a sigh, and sat down on a corner of George's stump.
"This," she said warningly, "had better be good."
"Get down," Fred hissed. George was already pulling her behind the stump. Ginny bit off the end of a surprised gasp.
"It's okay," Dad's voice filtered through the somewhat eerie silence. "But I'm glad to see you're being cautious."
The three of them walked around the stump, brushing bits of mud and leaves off their clothes. The reassuring smile on Dad's face slowly faded into tense surprise. "Where are the others-you aren't all here?"
"We got separated," Fred said apologetically.
"Sorry, Dad," George added, "We tried, really we did, but--"
"It was dark, unfamiliar, and filled with a lot of frightened people," Dad said resignedly. "It's okay, boys, I'm sure you did your best. Do you know your way back to the campsite?"
George nodded. "Sure, no problem, it's over that way." He pointed.
"Okay...you take your sister back there. I'll go look for the others."
They had just come within sight of camp when the clearing flashed with a serpentine green light. Ginny felt her skin ice over. Heart frozen in her chest, scarcely daring to breath, she slowly looked up. She had often imagined Harry's eyes looked like green stars, but they were nothing like the ominous green pinpricks of light that hung in a noxious nebula overhead. It was shaped like a skull with a snake slithering from its mouth. Ginny knew immediately. It was a sign. It was His sign. It was too similar to the basilisk in the Chamber to be anything else.
Promptly, and without ceremony, Ginny threw up.