Bill parked his motorcycle in front of a tiny duplex with a prettily manicured lawn. Despite Ginny's protests, he did not use the flying feature to get home, because he hadn't brought an extra helmet. Instead, he carefully rode it home with Ginny behind him, tightly (per request) holding on. Ginny tried convincing him to fly, by informing him that she had, after all, flown a broom from the U.K. to Australia, but he responded sharply, "We're not flying".This was so uncharacteristic of him that Ginny got the uncomfortable feeling that Bill was hiding something from her, and the ride home was not quite so cheerful as it could have been.
"I didn't know you liked gardening," Ginny remarked, breaking the long lapse of silence.
"I don't. Bathilda's obsessed though. She's my landlady."
"That's, uh, nice."
Bill pulled off his helmet and glanced back at her. He offered a reassuring grin but his eyes were serious.
"We...we've gotta talk, ok?"
HE KNOWS. HE KNOWS!
Ginny's legs felt wobbly as she followed Bill to the door. He was making small talk, but her mind was setting off alarm bells and telling her so many things at once , she couldn't hear a word of it. Bathilda, an energetic, ancient-looking witch stepped out to say hello, and Ginny merely smiled feebly and said thank you, even though she wasn't sure what the old lady was saying.
HE KNOWS. HE KNOWS!
Before coming, Ginny had been excited to see how and where Bill lived. Now, she trudged sullenly behind him, biting her lip to fight the powerful desire to cry. Bill led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her to sit in. Ginny sat.
She was waiting for Bill to yell at her, to reproach her for running away, for scaring everyone; to tell her that she had to return home at once, that he couldn't keep his irresponsible little sister under his roof another minute. She cast her eyes downwards, and waited.
"So...what can I get you to drink?" he asked. "I have great kiwi-pumpkin juice. People are mad about that here."
"I don't want a drink."
Bill flipped a second kitchen chair around and sat down. Then he retrieved a piece of parchment from his pocket and slid it across the table.
"This came a couple of days ago."
Ginny unrolled it, recognizing the familiar, hasty script of her father's.
Dear Bill,
I'm not sure how to write this- Ginny's run away from home. We've organized search parties in every region but there hasn't been any trace of her since the 2nd of July. Your mother's nerves have reached their breaking point - we have all not slept in quite some time - and we hope to hear from you, either to tell us that Ginny has contacted you, or that you can help us in any way to find her. Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Your Father,
Arthur Weasley
The letter made her miserable. Apart from the mention of her mother, she was dismayed at the fact that Bill had discovered the news in an owl. Without hearing my side of the story.
"You know what I think ," Bill said after a moment had elapsed, "I think you aught to talk to Mum."
"I don't want to talk to her, or to any of them," Ginny responded obstinately, her eyes still averting his to keep her from crying. "You're the only one who cares two jots about me."
"What?" Bill exploded, jumping up from his chair. "Mum's back home in hysterics, they're all going mad looking for you, I mean, you read the owl."
"They only feel this way now because they're overridden with guilt," she told Bill, her pent-up anger rapidly freeing itself. "It's like I'm not even a member of the family- Harry's more part of it than I am. To them I'll always be the little five-year-old, a nuisance, the- the unwanted girl in a crowd of boys. They've never taken anything I say seriously, always played jokes and hurt me, and if they're feeling guilty right now for all they've done, don't expect any sympathy from me!"
She flung the letter across the room, and it landed on the floor rolled up into a scroll. Bill picked it up and walked over to her, the expression in his eyes earnest.
"Take a good look at this again and tell me whether the one who wrote it is someone just doing his duty, or a desperate father searching for his only daughter. Gin, this is Dad we're talking about."
Placing the small scroll in his sister's hand, Bill left the room. Ginny sank into a chair, her body shaking from mixed emotions and her head exploding with hundreds of thoughts and feelings.
They don't want me, he just doesn't understand…but it's Bill, and if anyone would understand, it's him…nobody's on my side…Bill's on your side, he just wants you to talk to Mum…
Ginny looked down at the scroll in her hand and closed her eyes.
"Bill?" she called, her voice unsteady.
She heard him return to the kitchen, and opened her eyes to face him.
"Yeah, Gin?" he asked her softly.
"I'm ready to talk to Mum."
---
"Now, you know how to work this, right?" inquired Bill. "When I throw the powder in, you wait till the fire turns green and then you stick your head in."
"How are you able to do that? That long-distance stuff costs a ton of gold," Ginny asked, amazed.
"I didn't buy it, it was a welcome gift from the bank. Anyway, I better go first," Bill suddenly realized. "So it won't come as too much of a shock for Mum."
"I guess so," Ginny slowly agreed. "I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have."
Ginny's face went as red as her hair and she started feeling nervous. After all, considering the havoc she had created by running away, her parents must be fuming at her.
"I-I'd prefer it if you did all the talking," she blurted.
Bill bent down and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"I could do that," he said with a small grin, "but I'm not the one Mum and Dad are going mad finding. At this point they'll be requesting, well, 'visual proof'."
Bill took a pinch of powder from a miniature silver box and threw it into the fire and, leaning into it, stated clearly,
"THE BURROW, ENGLAND".
It turned blue, purple, yellow and at last, green. With a reassuring smile at Ginny, Bill poked his head into the fire. Ginny couldn't hear anything but Bill's muffled voice, and she waited near him, twiddling her thumbs and licking her unusually dry lips. After several torturous minutes, Bill's head popped back out of the fire and Ginny watched for his expression. He gave her a reassuring grin.
"You better go talk to her, before she throws herself into that fire and comes here instead. Oh, and if she asks, tell her I want you to stay, and that you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like."
That gave her some reassurance. I'm going to have to face her eventually, Ginny told herself. Just tell her exactly how you feel, why you left, everything. Stay calm. You were right to leave. Don't listen to anything that she says, because she'll never convince you to go back there. With these thoughts whizzing through her mind, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and plunged her red head into the green flames.
"Ginny!" her mother gasped.
Ginny opened her eyes. It was her turn to gasp.
"Mum?"
Her mother was not the cheerful, plump woman Ginny remembered her to be. Mrs. Weasley had lost a lot of weight in too short an amount of time, and dark circles surrounded her tired, pain-filled eyes. Ginny suddenly
"Mum?" she croaked again. Her voice broke and she began to sob. "Mum, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't want to worry everyone…I thought no one would care…"
Her mother had rushed over to the fire and stroked her daughter's hair amidst the green flames. Her eyes were very bright, but she struggled to put on a brave face for her youngest child.
"There now", she soothed, while motioning to her husband for a chair. "It's all right, my sweet girl, my Ginny. No one's angry with you. We-we were just so worried. And you were so silly, saying that we don't care, of course we care. And with You-Know-Who on the loose, we thought the worst…but it's all over now, Ginny. There now, love, stop crying. You're safe, and everything's fine, now."
Ginny's whole body was shaking, but she used a trembling hand to wipe her tears and took a look around the room. Right next to Mum was her dad, sharing both his wife's haggard appearance and her tired but unburdened eyes. Behind him in the corner of the kitchen was Ron, whose red hair was a mess and whose grin expressed gigantic relief. Next to him stood the twins, staring at her (she noted satisfactorily) in awe and respect.
She spent the rest of the evening in Bill's kitchen with her head stuck in his fire.
After both Bill and Mrs. Weasley agreed to her staying in Australia the rest of the summer, she and Mr. Weasley went to spread the joy while the twins and Ron wanted to hear all the details of her trip there.
"I wish you'd let us in on the joke," Fred sighed wistfully when Ginny finished relating her adventures.
"Yeah, we would've gone to visit that one-eyed witch in China. I bet she'd have taught us loads of magic we're not supposed to know," George added regretfully.
"Well," Ginny began, "I only left because no one wanted to list-"
"I still can't believe ickle Ginny managed to pull it off- and without Mum yelling her ear off!" Fred cut in. "If either of us had tried it we'd never have heard the end of it."
"Either of you!" Ron butt in indignantly. You two can get away with anything! If I had tried it I'd be buried alive!"
"Yes, but I never would have done it if all of you didn't treat me like-" Ginny tried again, feeling her irritation rise again.
"Reckon she got off easy because she's the baby of the family," George told his brothers wisely. "Mummy's little girl, right Gin-"
But Ginny didn't answer. She was already gone, and the Weasley's fire had gone from bright green to red, and the brothers stared at each other in silent wonder. Finally George spoke.
"Was it something I said?"
---
As though an invisible hand had pulled the string dangling near the window shades, the blinds flew up and rays of sun burst through the window of the small yet cozy room, where Ginny lay fast asleep. She stirred and turned her back to the window, but sunlight had flooded the entire room and banished darkness until the following night. Ginny stretched and slowly opened her eyes. The corners of her mouth turned up into a small, tired smile. She was in Bill's room, sleeping in Bill's bed, and since this was true, so must be her conversation with her mother and the previous day's Quidditch victory. She couldn't remember feeling so supremely contented with her life as she did at that present moment. She didn't roll out of bed like she generally did- she stood up and then hopped off, landing with a soft thud on a yeti-skin rug. Bill popped in still wearing pajamas (boxer shorts, for those who wondered) to wish her good morning.
"Hurry up and get ready," he told her excitedly. "I've got loads of stuff for us to do today."
During breakfast (cheesecake, fried bacon, kiwi-pumpkin juice, etc.), Bill kept exploding with ideas of where he wanted to take her, who he wanted her to meet, and Ginny, thrilled at being made a big deal of (by her favorite brother, no less) was willing and excited to go wherever he decided to take her. It was planned then; they would meet Lauren at work, and spend the whole day sightseeing, eating all the foods Mrs. Weasley disapproved of in all the ways Mrs. Weasley disapproved of, and after dinner- a bit of Quidditch. In short, it was going to be a perfect day.
"Ready to go?" Ginny called from the front hall. She couldn't see her brother from where she stood but she could see clothes, shoes and some weird objects flying around his room.
"I can't remember where I put my spare helmet!" Bill's voice shouted back.
" I don't need a helmet, it's really okay," Ginny insisted, grinning impishly. Her brother's face suddenly popped into view.
"You're wearing the helmet."
"Alright, alright."
The doorbell rang just then, or I should say it sang, in a very lovely voice. Ginny heard Bill laughing.
"You like it? That's Batty Kildwilp; she's really popular here. Get the door, will ya?" he asked.
Ginny stared at the door. It didn't have a handle.
"Uh, Bill, how am I supposed to-" she began.
"Just say, troll booger", Bill responded.
"Troll booger," Ginny giggled.
The door opened. Ryan stood before her, wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt that brought out his eyes. Ginny stopped giggling.
"Uh, hello," Ryan said somewhat seriously.
"Morning," Ginny replied, smoothing her hair and feeling her face go red.
"I was up all night wondering- that is, I was just thinking, um…well, the truth is, I was kind of wondering if…" Ryan faltered, his usually imposing six feet somewhat failing him. Ginny felt a little sorry for him.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" Ryan's eyes lit up, and Ginny couldn't help smiling.
"Uh, yeah, sure, as long as you don't expect me to do be the next Victor Krum, I'm in."
"That's wicked!" Ryan blurted, then caught himself. "I mean, that's...suitable. 'Cause we've got Benjy and everything, but it's always important for a team to have two seekers, y'know…"
Ginny nodded, wearing a skeptical look on her face.
"I don't have to join the team," she said, folding her arms across her chest.
Ryan started.
"No! I really need you, a'right? I mean, the 'Bornes need you. Anyway, now that you're on the team, you aughta know that practice is every afternoon at 5:00 and the only excuse for missing one is if you've died, in which case you'll have to give us a 24-hour notice so we can prepare our backup," Ryan informed her in his brisk, authoritative tone. "Never forget your Firebolt because we don't have a decent broom for you if you do. I'll give you our old seeker's uniform at practice today, you're 'bout her size," he added, and Ginny noticed his face turn slightly pink.
"Anything else?" Ginny said sarcastically.
"Yeah, what are you doing today? I should probably go over some plays we've been working on with you. I think four hours aughta do it," Ryan said, not an inch of a smile on his face.
Ginny felt so overwhelmed, she had to laugh. Was he for real? Even Wood couldn't have been this bad, she thought.
"Ryan, it's just a game."
He looked at her as though she had just said the sky was falling.
"Jenny, it's not just a game, it's Quid."
"That's Ginny," she said evenly.
"Well, Ginny¸ I don't know what it's like in the U.K., but here in Aus Quid is taken seriously. Very seriously. Got that?"
They glared at each other. Ginny wanted to slap him.
"You know," she began, seething, "I don't think I've ever met such a stuck-up-"
"Captain!" Bill exclaimed, tumbling out of his room, breaking the tension. He slapped Ryan's hand. Ginny clenched her fists but stayed silent.
"Hey…what'd you do to your room, mate?" Ryan laughed, looking behind him at the now-filthy room.
"My spare helmet, blast it. Ginny and I are about to go out and I can't find it."
Ginny suddenly made a face. "Bill, why don't you just summon it? You know, Accio Helmet?"
Bill slapped his forehead, groaning.
"Oy! Thanks Ginny." He turned to Ryan and grinned sheepishly. "Only did three years of school and she already knows more magic than I do."
"You're the smartest in the family and you know it," Ginny insisted. "I just happen to know the Accio thing because a last month at the Triwizard tournament, Harry used it to-" She stopped in mid sentence, horrified that she had mentioned him, wishing desperately that she hadn't.
"Yeah, I read about the tournament in the pape," Ryan remembered. "Harry Potter won, right?"
"You know Harry?" Ginny asked stupidly.
"Do I know Santa Claus? Just because we Aussies are at the other end of the world doesn't mean we're idiots. Are you two friends, or something? You called him Harry, like he's your best mate or something."
"We're NOT friends," Ginny said too quickly.
"Whoa, sorry," Ryan said, pretending to back away. "Enemies? Never mind, it isn't my business, I know," he said before Ginny could reply. "It's just that I heard he's a wicked seeker, and I thought maybe he taught you some techniques."
"No, he didn't teach me," Ginny mumbled. You still learnt from him though, said the little voice inside her. As often as she could she watched Gryffindor practice from her window in the down, studying every move, even occasionally taking notes on small bits of parchment she kept hidden at the very bottom of her trunk.
"Hey Ryan, how 'bout you come with us? That way we'll be an even four, you know, with Lauren coming. It'll be wicked."
Ginny suddenly jumped back to the present. Ryan, COME WITH THEM? No way, she thought. She found it difficult to be alone sharing the same air with him for more than a few minutes. A whole DAY? In each other's company? They were liable to kill each other. She tried to catch Bill's eye, but he was too preoccupied adjusting his helmet.
"Um, weren't we just going to do some shopping?" she lied, trying to sound natural.
"Shopping, no way! I'm gonna show you the sights," Bill said cheerfully. Ginny stared at him in chagrin. When he finally glanced up and saw her face, it was too late.
"Yeah, sure, if Ginny's fine with it, it's ace by me," Ryan responded graciously.
Ginny's heart sank, but she mustered a smile. If he's going to be civil then I have to be.
"Naturally, Captain," she said, a trace of sarcasm in her voice. Turning to Bill, she added, "I'll be waiting outside."
She stormed out.
