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Ginny smiled, half annoyed and half glad that they’d been caught. She looked at Harry lovingly. He was still grinning, but his eyes were suddenly unfocused and blank. His face was paler than usual, troubled, and a feeling of worry radiated from him. She realized what was bothering him so suddenly – Voldemort. His scar was glowing on his forehead, and even as she looked, he reached up, flinching. Then he noticed her looking and drew his hand away. Those few moments stretched into a lifetime in Ginny’s mind, and as she comprehended them, she went cold.
Harry was looking out of the window into the stormy weather, which reflected Ginny’s mood. But she hid it as she sat down beside him, a cheerful smile lighting up her face. She put her hand on Harry’s shoulder. He looked up. There was a worried frown on his face, and he looked at her uncertainly. “Harry, what’s wrong?” she asked. She knew what it was, but she had to play stupid now. Anything to get Hermione off her back.
Only one thing left now, she thought. Tears brimmed in her eyes. This was it. “Goodbye, Ginny Weasley,” she whispered, looking up at the castle once more. Then she turned back to the lake. A gust of wind blew out her candle and whipped her hair back from her face. The cold sting of the night air on her face made the situation seem all too real to her. Quickly she tossed the candle onto the ground and stepped up to the lake.
The poor nurse looked as if she was going through a heart attack. She felt frantically for Ginny’s pulse, and when she found none, she looked up at the three seventh years, tears forming in her eyes. “She’s gone,” she whispered.
Woods and Words
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he bit his lip to keep from crying. Thoughts were racing through his head, chasing one another, haphazardly being contemplated. Another tear fell, and he shuddered as a chill swept through him. Suddenly his scar prickled, and he thought he could hear someone hissing, “So she’s dead, eh?”
The woman and her little girl were standing beside what appeared to be the man of the family, a tall black man with a gold earring. It wasn’t this that was bothering her, it was the fact that she knew this man, she knew him only too well. It was Kingsley Shackelbolt.
Kingsley thought fast. He could either reveal Ginny now and face her anger, or he could cover for her. Neither seemed like a particularly good option, but he had to choose one, fast.
The Scar on His Forehead
“That poem, Harry, was written thousands of years ago, by Salazar Slytherin,” stated Kingsley. “He left it in his office when he left, wanting to frighten the other founders into calling him back. They knew he had the gift of Seeing, and they also knew he had a very pale lightning shaped scar on his forehead.”
He recognized one voice as Jenna’s, but the other was unfamiliar. Jenna came through the front door with a young girl in her teens, with dirty blonde hair and a bright, flashing smile.
She gestured toward Ginny and Ginny raised a hand in a casual little hello-how-are-you wave. Ron and Hermione nodded at her while Harry just glared. How had she made such a bad impression to start off with, just by sitting down in a chair?
Her long red hair was drifting to the floor around her... She was flying across the Quidditch pitch, the Quaffle under her arm, watching Harry zoom above her... Hermione was glaring suspiciously at her... Ginny fought to regain control as she saw Fleur Delacour stand up from the midst of the Beauxbatons girls...
Second Impressions and Ginny's Obsessions
They don’t know he’s fake. Still. It’s – Stupid, I know. Just stop bothering me. I’m Monica Gould, and everything that makes me seem like a normal human being can only help me.
Founders and Poems
Harry groaned, sitting down at Dumbledore’s desk. “You’re right,” he sighed, leaning his head back. “We haven’t gotten anywhere…” “Well…” said Monica slowly. She seemed to be understanding exactly what was going on.
After A Year
It had been a year now. She had been Monica Gould for a full year.
“Ellie, no!” yelled Monica, but too late – the little girl had dipped her finger into the Veritaserum and licked it eagerly.
The girl had blonde hair and dark green eyes. She looked tired and sad. Her blouse was loose and pale blue with small flower designs sprinkled all over it. And as of a few minutes ago, it was absolutely drenched. Her jeans were slightly too big, held up by a leather belt. She looked somehow unfamiliar, and in that moment, Ginny hated her more than anything else in the world.
Harry and Hogwarts
Kingsley turned towards them, and they were shocked to see how pale and scared he looked. “We have to get back to Headquarters. Hogwarts is taken – Harry’s in trouble – I was sent to get all of you back. We have to go after him,” Kingsley explained, herding them out the door.
If There Was An After
Ginny ran. All of her instincts told her to turn and leave the battle, but she couldn’t. Harry needed her. She saw Ron battling Draco Malfoy, whose lip was bleeding violently. Hermione was just now unleashing a killing curse. She ran into the midst of the fighting, following Voldemort. She knew he was going towards Harry. It was where she needed to be, too.
You guys have no idea how sad it is to press 'Completed' for this fic. I've been working on it for a year now - it's my baby and I love it. Thank you guys so much for everything. I'm gonna miss it.
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