Disclaimer: Some passages are taken directly from the books. I own nothing.

Author's Note: I'm working on a much longer, multi-year story with Ginger as the central character but had the idea for this oneshot. Ironically, Ginger and Ron were not the original pairing for that story.

September 1st, 1993 – Great Hall, Welcoming Feast

The Great Hall buzzed with idle chatter as the remnants of puddings were cleared away from the tables, perhaps a bit less enthusiastic than usual after the dementor debacle on the train. The professors were strangely restless that night, even more fidgety than they had been the previous year, as they murmured with their heads together at the Head Table.

"You should've seen Elizabeth's little sister. She kept calling the dolphins 'puppies'. She calls anything she thinks is cute a puppy," said Ginger Hyde.

"You're much more enamored with Isa than I am, I assure you," said Elizabeth 'Liz' Moon.

Ginger's childhood friend, Neville Longbottom, laughed along as they rehashed their summer holidays.

"Oh, that's adorable! My parents said I did something similar when I was younger, only it was 'guppies'," Hermione Granger interjected.

There was a short silence. It wasn't often that Hermione or her friends interacted with Ginger and hers.

"Err… hi Ginger," Hermione added tentatively, "it's nice to see you again. Neville, Elizabeth."

"Hello Hermione," the three responded politely.

"Ron don't stare like that," Hermione scolded the red-haired boy across the table. "At least say hello."

"Hyde," said Ron Weasley shortly, as if it pained him to do so. He returned Hermione's glare with a look that said, 'are you happy now?'.

"Weasley," said Ginger, her tone similarly frosty.

"Hey Ginger," said Harry Potter, his tone much warmer. "Enjoy your summer?"

"Yes, it was great, thanks."

Weasley huffed.

"So, Ginger…" said Hermione slowly, after taking a curious glance at her friend, "how long have you and Ron known each other?"

Weasley choked into his goblet of water.

"I suppose you could say that he, Neville, and I all grew up together," Ginger said simply, glancing at his now stoic expression.

While Draco and the others had been far crueler to Weasley throughout their childhoods, Ginger had always adopted an attitude of indifference towards the whole family in general.

Weasley coughed and muttered something under his breath.

"Problem?" asked Ginger, her eyebrow ticking up.

"Oh, nothing at all," he said sarcastically.

October 31st, 1993 – Great Hall

"…I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete," said Professor Dumbledore, effectively silencing any further concerns Professor Snape would've voiced.

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" asked Percy Weasley.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementors will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."

As Percy and the professors wandered off one by one, Ginger adjusted herself uncomfortably in her sleeping bag, looking around to see that Draco, Neville, and the others had already fallen asleep. Rolling over onto her stomach, Ginger rested her chin on her arms, and her gaze fell upon a pair of baby blue eyes, widened, staring unblinkingly at one of the high windows through which the morning post came.

Weasley's freckled face was pale, even more so bathed in moonlight. Even from several feet away, Ginger could tell that he was shaking in his sleeping bag, clutching the edges of it, and pulling it tightly around him. A part of her wanted him to stop. Everyone was already afraid enough without him being a baby. A smaller part of her wanted to tell him that she was afraid too.

Ginger silenced that part.

June 9th, 1993 – Hogwarts, First Floor

"…if he's lost a leg, I'll maim him myself," Ginger grumbled, her hands clenched into fists, as she stormed down the deserted corridor on the first floor.

It was well after curfew, and there weren't any students still wandering the halls that weren't prefects. But Ginger couldn't sleep. She couldn't even get comfortable, not with those awful rumors she'd been hearing all night floating through her head. She had to see for herself.

Turning the corner, the large double doors of the hospital wing came into view. The ward was mostly dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the windows. There weren't many students still in the hospital wing so close to the end of term, but as Ginger crept closer to the open doorway, she could identify Hermione and Harry by their hair. Which meant that the slightly larger figure at the end…

Before she knew what she was doing, Ginger's feet had led her into the hospital wing and across the stone floor until she stood beside Weasley's bed, careful to keep his friends in view.

Glancing down, Ginger took in the small cuts and bruises that littered his face and arms, disappearing beneath the thin, white blanket tucked around him, and the egregious number of bandages wrapped around his leg, which was propped up on a pile of pillows. Despite how awful he looked, Weasley seemed to still have all of his limbs intact. In fact, he slept peacefully, his mouth slightly parted, a soft snore escaping. His hair had been getting longer than usual, and a few strands fell across his eyes.

"Get better soon, idiot," Ginger whispered.

August 25th, 1994 – Quidditch World Cup

Ginger saw the crowd of red heads across the field before her friends did. She didn't particularly like the way that she automatically scanned the group for a particular face, but she couldn't stop herself either.

There!

As tall and freckled as ever, Ron Weasley stood amongst his many siblings, father, and his friends. She couldn't help but notice that Weasley had gained a bit of a tan, and perhaps he wasn't as gangly as he had been the year before. His cheeks were flushed with excitement, his smile dazzling as they closed the distance, both groups approaching the ticket master.

Ginger saw the exact moment that Draco and Theo had spotted Weasley and his family, their eyes glittering meanly and their smiles wide. She exchanged a look with her cousin, Daphne, and their friends, Neville, and Liz. Sure, Draco and a few of the other Slytherins in their year occasionally terrorized other students, but Ginger never understood the boys' obsession with heckling Harry and his lot more than anyone else.

"Weasley! Potter!" said Draco happily, as they filled in the line behind the Weasley group.

Harry and Hermione immediately looked apprehensive, while Weasley's expression of anticipation and enthrallment fell flat, his flush deepening with rising anger.

"Not today, Malfoy!" said Weasley, resolutely turning towards the front.

"Oh, don't be like –"

"Come on, Draco," said Ginger, setting a hand on his shoulder. Her friends stared at her. "Term hasn't even started yet. Let's just enjoy the match."

"Fine," Draco groaned, rolling his eyes towards the sky. "Ruin all my fun, why don't you."

Ginger was well aware of Weasley looking over his shoulder very hard at her, and all she could think about was how banged up he looked in the hospital wing at the end of their third year.

Their eyes met for a moment, and for once, Ginger didn't mind so much.

September 30th, 1994 – Gryffindor Common Room

"…and I don't know how I'm going to pass the Potions OWL next year! Snape would rather eat my toad than let me actually breathe during class," Neville moaned, chewing on the end of his quill, his textbook and parchment laid out in front of him. "Ginger… Ginger!"

"Hmm?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from the rather intense chess match occurring less than ten feet away. Weasley swiped his hair out of his face again, his eyebrows scrunching together as the strands fell back into place. Across from him, Harry gnawed on his already ragged fingernails.

"Are you even listening to me?" said Neville accusingly, finally throwing down his quill in frustration. "I swear you haven't looked away from them in ages. I didn't know you were such a chess fan."

Ginger shot Neville a look, detecting the hint of sarcasm in his tone. He raised an eyebrow at her. But Neville had already gained unwanted attention with his comment. As Ginger glanced back over at the round table to her right, she froze as those wide, blue eyes studied her.

She didn't look away.

Weasley's face twisted. "What?" he asked rudely. Harry looked over his shoulder at her, startled.

Bristling, Ginger scowled. "You need a haircut. This look doesn't suit you," she said scathingly.

Weasley smirked.

"I didn't know you cared so much, Hyde. Want to cut it for me, then?" he said sarcastically. When she didn't respond fast enough, content to force all of her anger and embarrassment into her glare, Weasley huffed triumphantly and turned back to his match.

"Idiot," Ginger grumbled, ignoring Neville's bewildered expression.

October 31st, 1994 – Gryffindor Common Room

"You know what, Ron? Fine. I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you that I didn't do this. Don't come crying to me when you realize I'm telling the truth…"

Even in the hour following the rather loud argument, it was still the hottest topic around the common room. Gryffindor Tower had already been abuzz with speculation surrounding Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. Even Ginger, Neville, and Liz had put their heads together to figure it out, coming up with the same lack of answers that everyone else had.

After Harry and Weasley had gone at each other, Harry stormed out of the Tower, with a rather distressed Hermione hot on his heels. Weasley remained in the boys' dorm, and no one had seen a glimpse of him since. At least, not until an hour before curfew, when most of the common room had emptied out, and Ginger lounged across the couch in front of the fireplace, deep in thought.

The creaking of a door caught her attention, and she craned her neck to look over the back of the couch, catching sight of Weasley's sulking form jogging down the stairs and heading towards the portrait hole.

"It could be worse," said Ginger, before she could stop herself.

Weasley stopped, his body still turned towards the exit while he looked over his shoulder. "What?" he said coldly.

"It… it could be worse… right?" said Ginger, now uncertain.

"Mind your own business, Hyde," said Weasley, soon disappearing through the portrait hole without another backwards glance.

November 24th, 1994 – Quidditch Pitch

Ginger headed back towards the castle, Neville, and Elizabeth in tow. They passed by the champions' tent just as the flap opened and out poured Harry, Hermione, and Weasley – all smiles. After a rather entertaining interaction with the reporter, Rita Skeeter, they laughed and started towards the castle.

As they passed Ginger and her friends, Weasley paused, his friends a few steps ahead of him.

"Hey Hyde!" he called.

Ginger looked up, stopping mid-step.

"It could've been worse," he said, breathless, his eyes wild with happiness, "but I'm happy it wasn't. Sorry I was a prick."

With that, he jogged to catch up to his friends, and Ginger watched until they were out of sight.

December 25th, 1994 – Great Hall, Yule Ball

Although Draco did look rather dashing in his black suit and embroidered cloak – all brand new – Ginger couldn't keep her eyes off the uncoordinated red-head with the decades-outdated dress robes across the Hall.

As Draco spun her around, lifted her high, and glided with her across the dance floor, Ginger's eyes never left Weasley, who looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else in the world than with Parvati Patil. She couldn't help but smile to herself as he stepped on her foot for the umpteenth time.

It seemed this time she'd finally had enough and yanked her hands from his grasp, flouncing off towards the double doors. Weasley looked both embarrassed and relieved, sheepishly raking his hand through his still uncut hair as he sidled over to Harry, who had long since given up on his date.

"I'm having a nice time, Ginger," said Draco, smiling down at her – a rare sight for her best friend.

"Me too," said Ginger, resting her head on Draco's chest, her eyes still trained on the bane of her existence.

July 2nd, 1995 – Great Hall

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time could come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Aside from the sniffles and quiet sobs, the Great Hall was deathly silent. Even Draco, across the Great Hall, was pale and quiet, absent of his usual careless humor whenever the headmaster made an announcement.

No one knew all of the details of what had actually happened in the maze, only that Harry had come out of it with Cedric Diggory's dead body in his arms, screaming about the dark lord's return. There hadn't been time to discuss this with her friends in the aftermath, and Hogwarts had been in a soft lockdown ever since, with movement restricted to the essentials and the exterior doors closely monitored or closed off altogether.

Harry had been silent, withdrawn, haunted… since coming back from inside of the maze. This didn't stop Weasley and Hermione from closing ranks around him, glaring menacingly at anyone who veered too close or stared too long.

Even now, Ginger watched as Weasley hovered over his best mate, his eyes switching between long stares of concern, and scanning their surroundings for anyone who might bother Harry.

Privately, Ginger found this very sweet, and when Weasley happened to meet her eye during one of his scans, she respectfully nodded towards him. Silently, he returned the gesture.

September 1st, 1995 – Great Hall, Welcoming Feast

"…let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

Umbridge finally sat down after her little speech. Professor Dumbledore clapped, and a few of the staff followed his lead, though many of them stopped after one or two. A few students joined in, but most of them had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it.

Liz had been overtaken by a fit of giggles soon after Umbridge's speech had begun, having caught sight of Professor Snape's expression, and the bewildered looks of the other professors. Neville looked troubled, but Ginger had experience dealing with Umbridge. Through her father's work as the founder of Hyde, Haven, & Associates, Ginger's family had been invited to many Ministry-sponsored events, where she'd had the pleasure of Umbridge's company.

Sighing deeply, Ginger allowed her attention to wander, zeroing in on the boy directly across the table. Weasley had finally gotten a haircut, his hair trimmed neatly just above his ears. Ginger thought that he looked rather handsome that way.

It took a moment for Ginger to realize that she'd been caught staring again, but rather than glare or make a rude comment, Weasley caught her eye, glanced at Umbridge, and pulled a face. He'd been exposed to the ghastly women the same way that Ginger had.

Ginger smiled, shrugged, and rolled her eyes, feeling pleasantly warm as she earned a goofy grin in return.

February 11th, 1996 – Room of Requirement

It had been weeks since Neville had finally convinced Ginger and Elizabeth to join the Defense Association.

What had started as a desperate attempt to stay ahead before their OWLs arrived, became an almost weekly ritual where Ginger would find a reason to stay behind longer, and strike up a tentative conversation with Weasley about the day's lesson.

"…and it's a difficult spell, but you're doing really great. I'm not surprised, honestly," said Weasley, scratching the back of his head.

Ginger quietly noted how he stored his wand in his back pocket, but she couldn't bring herself to scold him about it. There was something about the way his magic felt after a sparring session… it was warm, wild… inviting.

"Thanks, Weasley," said Ginger, looking down at her feet.

"You could call me Ron, you know," he said quietly, his face tomato-red. He seemed to have a hard time meeting her eye.

"I'd like that… Ron."

June 1st, 1996 – Quidditch Pitch

Word of Ron's deplorable ability as a Keeper had swept the school in the past couple months, and after their disastrous defeat in the last match, Ginger had never expected Ron to pull off the saves that he had during Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw. Of course, Draco and the rest of the Slytherin team had done their best to fan the rumors and throw Ron off his game at every opportunity, but on that day, even that awful song couldn't get to him.

Ron had been lifted on the shoulders of the Gryffindor team after the spectacular win and hadn't touched the ground until he'd been set down in Gryffindor Tower. Pushing through the crowd, Ginger was the first to congratulate him, punching him on the shoulder, both of them rather red in the face.

June 25th, 1996 – First Floor

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him," chanted Ginger, wringing her hands tightly together as she made the very familiar trek across the first floor to the hospital wing.

After a breaking news edition of The Daily Prophet, the school had been filled with nothing but gossip and speculations surrounding Minister Fudge's official announcement that the dark lord had truly returned. As always, no one knew much except that Harry Potter and a few of his friends had been involved in a fight against Death Eaters until Dumbledore had shown up. Someone had seen their group being brought into the hospital wing on stretchers and the rumors flew from that point on.

Ginger had attempted to visit the hospital wing every day since the group returned nearly a week ago, but due to their injuries and the nature of the incident, extra precautions were being taken, and Ginger had been rebuffed at every turn. After days of arguing with Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey, however, she'd finally been granted a short visit to the hospital wing.

As she strode through the partially open double doors, Ginger's eyes quickly scanned the ward for a particular person…

The moment Ginger caught sight of the bandages covering Ron's body from head to waist, she felt as though her legs would give out. Her purposeful stride slowed to a cautious tiptoe.

Soon enough, Ginger, again, stood over Ron's hospital bed, taking in his numerous wounds and the dark circles under his eyes. His eyelids twitched and fluttered, until his baby blues held her to the spot.

"Hyde?" he croaked weakly; a small, dumb smile emerging. He winced, his arm spasming.

Ginger's eyes welled up.

"I'm here, you big idiot," she said softly, gently setting her hand on his chest.

"I didn't know you cared so much."