A red-haired woman settled onto a small mattress, tucking in a raven-haired boy. Smoothing out the blankets around him, she tries to hide a melancholy smile. The face in front of her, so alike another, one she could never forget. It started with a question, one Ginny had truly begun to dread during the years she did not hear it asked. August 31st, a late night before the Hogwarts Express would take her son away for the first time, and finally he asks, "Mum, tell me about Dad."

Her heart skips a beat, and Ginny has to focus to not hyperventilate, before meeting his gaze. Chocolate brown eyes meet a pair not dissimilar to her own, wonder in one pair met with pain in the other.

"Well, James, it all started with love. The love of a family, one not well off in anything but the love they shared. A morning not unlike tomorrow, one full of joy, of excitement, people scurrying to and fro."

"Muuum" James whined, his black hair as always bringing a sense of longing to Ginny's heart.

"All right, fine. Skip the good things, should I just jump to where you came along?"

With a huff, James Sirius Potter shook his head, "No Mum, not this time."

Feeling a lump form in her throat, Ginny Weasley gathers some of her old Gryffindor courage, "Well, the first thing I remember is that head of hair, but his eyes stunned me."

The first few years of Ginny's life are a blur. Memories of laughter, trading antics or pranks with the twins, yet running to Bill and her mother when it all became too much. Games in the orchard with Ron, or teasing Percy for being the only one really reluctant to play Quidditch with the rest of her brothers - and raging that she was not allowed to play. Scraped knees, helping her mother with chores, competing over gnomes with her brothers. If pushed, Ginny would probably have to admit her life really only started September 1st, 1992.

1991 was a lonely year, one devoid of laughter, of scraped knees or pranks. One full of an empty house, unreturned letters, and questions. Lots of questions. Did Snape really give the twins detention for showing up on time to potions class, or did they do something they refuse to tell Mum? Ron's detention drew less attention than the fact that he had become best friends with Harry Potter, at least from Ginny's perspective. That it was the boy with raven hair and green eyes that reminded her of preparing jars with Mum, Ginny found herself in awe of circumstance. Lonely, but in awe nonetheless. Come Christmas, her brothers could not find anywhere to hide from her questions, about Hogwarts or a certain bespectacled boy. If only they had known how aggressive she would get later on, they may have just acquiesced and answered her many inquiries. Come summer of '92, they would wish for a silence that would not arrive until the same boy did.

1992 was by no means Ginny's year. Embarrassment drove her into becoming one with the background whenever Harry was around, reduced to at most a squeak in his presence. Her brothers, those who were around that is, were relentless in teasing her. Never Harry though, if anything he was bashful about her behavior, not one to draw attention to either of them. More than once Ginny almost thought he was watching her but dismissed it as her embarrassment convincing her that everyone was laughing. September 1st was a hurried mess, more than the year before, and the Express was absolutely splendid for Ginny. Meeting several of her year mates, reacquainting herself with Luna Lovegood, and trading questions with muggleborn students like Colin Creevey. That he was baffled by the function of a rubber duck did not dissuade her, nor did his concern over how the train was going to travel through various solid looking objects. It was strange later, to not see Harry or Ron in the Great Hall during her sorting, and it wasn't until she went to write in her Diary that the events of the afternoon were shared with the newest batch of first year students.

"That damn Diary" muttered Ginny.

"Mum!" James laughed, "you said a bad word!"

"Hush you, did you want to hear about your father or not?" At his nod, Ginny released a deep breath.

At first, nothing seemed strange about the Diary, the novelty of one writing back more exciting than anything else she had encountered. The idea that a friend could sit in her pocket, hold her secrets but no one could read them if they opened it later, seemed like a fantastic thing to an eleven-year-old girl. It was not until later that malice started to rear its ugly head, when Tom began to show his true nature, before showing her things no eleven-year-old should be forced to see. Gaps in her memory, filled in later by others and nightmares, grades on tests she did not remember taking, as well as the slow withdrawal from friends she had made on the train weighed heavily on Ginny. Waking in the Chamber was horrifying, for a multitude of reasons. That Harry had come to save her, risking his life for someone who could not even muster the will to speak in his presence, left her both grateful and ashamed of herself. The following weeks were wracked with guilt, nightmares, and Tom's laughter at her suffering. It continued until the last day before the Hogwarts Express would return them all to their homes, when something new happened in the Gryffindor common room, Harry sat down across from Ginny and started to deal out Exploding Snap cards. No words were exchanged, but something changed for Ginny, bringing some light into the darkness of her first year at Hogwarts. Something light, the seed that would become tradition, and something that she sorely missed these days.

Ginny spent 1993 rebuilding herself, convincing herself that what happened because of one demented boy who made a diary would not stop her from being herself. Later, life would show that she did change, although she would say for the better. Hogwarts was different that year, and constant reminders of past events did not help her sleep at night. The raven-haired boy being everywhere she went started to drive Ginny barmy, but she could not bring herself to avoid him. Going to lessons, approaching other students who once wanted to be friends, but were now standoff-ish, studying to fill the gaps left in her memory of the previous years' classes. She probably spent more time in the library than most, aside from one such as Hermione Granger who seemed to live there. At first Ginny avoided Hermione, as she did not want to be reminded of the previous year, of how close she came to killing the girl for nothing else than existing. Slowly however, Hermione earned her way in, starting a friendship that would not fade with time. That her other best friend was the object of Ginny's interest did not hurt her odds, even if Ginny was reluctant to bring the subject up at first.

In 1994 Ginny made a few decisions regarding that raven haired boy that haunted her, more than one based on the advice of her best friend. She would not, could not, continue to freeze when he entered a room she was in. More so after the games of Exploding Snap, where he had done the seemingly impossible, unintentionally or not he helped her start to recover from her ordeal. To be herself, was the advice she was willing to take. To look at other boys, she was less convinced, but Hermione was adamant that it would help. Halloween that year was reminiscent of a nightmare, seeing and hearing Harry's name called in the deadliest tournament that ever involved a student. That there was a fourth champion was bad enough, but for it to be Him, made the school go into a frenzy. Ginny watched from afar as her brother threw everything away over his pride, things she wished for but he took for granted, before being forgiven after Harry had survived a dragon. She could not bear to look away during that task, sitting frozen in the stands, hands clenched so tightly she thought her fists would freeze that way. Taking Hermione's advice, Ginny accepted the wrong fourth years' invitation to the Yule ball, even if she wished another had asked her. It turned into one of the best nights of her young life, while paired with one she had to gently rebuff, before going with another later on. It turned out, or so Ginny found out later on, that she had a type. Michael Corner, another boy taller than her, with dark hair, showed interest in little Ginny Weasley. Did the oh so great Harry Potter? No, he was too busy risking his life in a tournament that no one but his friends, and Ginny, accepted he didn't enter his name in. As the third task approached, things with Michael got a bit heated. Somewhat over his disbelief in Harry, but mostly in his enthusiasm. "Ew, Mum." Harry's return from the maze not in triumph, but with Cedric Diggory's corpse, combined with the message that Tom had returned, brought back everything Ginny had thought she was recovering from. That summer would seem to be the worst in her life, but things would only escalate from there. Frequently battling nightmares it seemed, was something she did have in common with Harry, and the night before the end of term he surprised Ginny by once again sitting down with a deck of cards.

1995 tested Ginny, in ways she did not previously think were possible. The cruelty of a world run by many leading double lives, a conniving witch out to enforce her agenda, close proximity to her long-time crush, Quidditch, and not to mention her father being attacked. The one-two punch of her father almost dying, followed by Harry just forgetting the events of her first year, forgetting their shared pain, it almost broke something in Ginny. Instead, she focused the hurt into something productive, learning as much as she could to make Tom's, and those who followed him, lives more difficult. Defying Umbridge and her decrees, practicing all the defensive magicks that her dogmatic approach to teaching did not allow in the classroom, placing dungbombs in her office every chance she got. Playing her heart out on the Quidditch Pitch, even if she was not happy with how she got a spot on the team, or even the position being played. Arguing with Michael over more and more things, from Quidditch to classes. The game against Ravenclaw was the final straw, apparently, he had expected her to not do her best? Breaking up with him left Ginny in a foul mood, angrier at boys than the one in particular. Harry, for not only failing to notice her, but also forgetting about her. Michael, for being a sexist prat that wanted someone pretty on his arm without a thought in their head. The Department of Mysteries marked a change in dynamic for the six students that went. The exhilaration, the fear, the rapid pace of battle - yet they were being toyed with. Never before had Ginny been forced to concede the fact that she was in fact just a fourteen-year-old girl. Tom's voice bubbling up from her subconscious tried to tell her to just give up, but she couldn't - what would happen to her friends, her brother, the boy she refused to admit she still had feelings for, if she just gave up? None of them walked out unscathed, someone near and dear to Harry failed to walk out at all. Ginny would hear his scream of anguish in nightmares for months.

1996 was both the best year of her schooling, and also one of the worst. Returning to a school devoid of tyrants was a pleasant change, as was another boy expressing interest in Ginny herself. Dean Thomas was funny, sweet, and if Ginny was honest with herself everything that Harry often was not. Outgoing, carefree, and more than interested in her. Skiving off lessons to spend an afternoon in a broom closet with Dean was tempting more often than she expected, even if studying for her OWLs should have been a priority. Ginny spared little thought, at least consciously, for what was going on with another raven-haired boy that seemed fixated on her once the Hogwarts rumor mill started about her and Dean. One nasty argument with Ron later, some harsh things said, and suddenly it was harder to ignore Harry's attentions. Ginny tried to ignore it, to not allow herself to think about what it could mean, it would not be fair to Dean after all. Mountains of essays, of studying, of assignments, fitting in time with Dean became a struggle as the months passed. Minor conflicts became more serious, his usual acts of chivalry or kindness became an irritant, although Ginny didn't mind the way they made up after fighting.

Draco I am better than everyone else Malfoy, or the bloody ferret to Ron, was involved in what Ginny could honestly say might have led to her going out with Harry. It was not until later on that she found out exactly what happened, after helping him hide his potions book, and only once he had time to process how he could have killed Draco. Weekly detentions, a ban from his captaincy, suddenly Ginny was back to Seeker.

The joy of winning the Cup for Gryffindor had Ginny feeling like she was still flying, even as the house traversed to the tower to celebrate, even as she stood around trading praise with her teammates. When the portrait hole opened, it did not register to Ginny that she was moving, let alone what her intent was when she reached the raven-haired boy entering the common room. If she felt like she was flying before, then she must have been stuck in the ground like plants in her mother's garden before Harry kissed her. He kissed her, her mind went blank - and an eternity later it ended.

Three weeks. Twenty-two days of bliss of stolen moments in the sun with the boy she could not believe was interested in her, little Ginny Weasley. The death of Albus Dumbledore changed everything. The sun, while no less bright, suddenly did not bring the warmth Ginny knew was registering on her skin. The boy that she was falling for... Something shifted in his attitude, and he was much moodier than he was a few days before. With a heavy heart, Ginny gave her all in the time she had with Harry, when not studying for the OWLs that seemed so much less important now with Dumbledore gone. After the funeral, the ball of dread in her stomach solidified into reluctant acceptance as she fought back tears, Harry was breaking up with her.