Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**The Coldest Summer Day**

It was two weeks after Harry Potter had managed to slay a basilisk and drive a reincarnation of the most feared Dark Lord in History out of Ginerva Weasley's body. The sun was shining, the student's had no homework because they were heading home the next day and it seemed as though all of Hogwarts was taking advantage of the glorious weather by heading out doors.

From her lonely vantage point from the Astronomy tower Ginny could see children laughing, the pick- up games of Quidditch, Dumbledore having a picnic with Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall sitting on a tartan rug reading Transfiguration Weekly and Professor Snape sitting perched on a director's chair marking essay's underneath the shade of the Weeping Willow. Staff and Students alike were exuberantly celebrating the awakening of the petrified students, the return of Dumbledore, the end of the Terror.

Dumbledore had not disclosed to the school at large what had actually happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. Instead he had simply said that Harry and Ron had killed the monster that had been petrifying students, whilst rescuing Ginny. It had led to most of Gryffindor hounding Ron and Harry for more details. Harry's Fan Club had swelled to even more epic proportions, as giggling school girls sought to express their admiration of their Hero who had saved the day once again in the only way they knew how.

As usual Ginny was ignored. Her brother's had their own lives and weren't interested in making sure that the baby of the family was alright. They'd turned up at the infirmary the day after Tom had left her body, looking very contrite and expressing feelings of guilt and sorrow that they hadn't realised what was going on. Looking back, Ginny realised how naive she had been to have actually _believed_ them. The air around her began to heat up as she thought about it.

She'd just been released from the infirmary and she'd run into Percy on her way back to Gryffindor tower.

"Percy..."

"Not now Ginny...I'm off to do some tutoring for some third year students that are getting behind in history of magic" came the brisk shake off.

"But..."

"Come and find me later" he called over his shoulder as he ran down a flight of stairs.

She had been left to walk into the Tower on her own, to feel the gaze of everyone's eyes upon her as they judged her. The silence that had fallen had felt like it lasted for eternity, but had actually only lasted for a few seconds. Then as one the House seemed to dismiss her and turned back to their infinitely more interesting gossip. It seemed as though being a victim of the Heir of Slytherin was old news by now.

Ron had been sitting in an armchair by the fire, obviously waiting for the other members of the trio to come down and join him in the Common Room. Ginny had tentatively gone to sit beside him.

"Hey..."

The look that Ron sent her could best be described as pure horror. "Look Ginny...don't take this the wrong way or anything...But you're not going to hang round us all the time, are you? I mean it's really not cool for a bloke to have his little sister hanging round with him and his friends all the time right? Can't you go and sit with your friends?"

Salvaging what little remnants she had left of her pride, Ginny had numbly nodded and slowly walked up to her dorm.

A more honest answer was that Ginny didn't have any friends. The powers that be, led by Romilda Vance, had decided in the first week that Ginny was "weird and uncool". The other four girls in her dorm had followed like sheep. As a result her dorm mates treated her like a Pariah and had sent her to a weird form of Coventry. They were not openly mean or insulting. They just ignored her. Conversations ceased when she walked into the room, any time she tried to contribute to a conversation her only response was a flat silence, followed by a blank 'why the Hell are you talking to me?' stare. The girls found more subtle ways to exclude Ginny; one day they all woke up wearing identical friendship bracelets, the next day they decided to start a new fashion by wearing their socks differently. Little things, but things that were designed to show her what an outsider she was.

The Gryffindor boy's were at an age where girls were foreign entities best ignored for the next couple of years. To make things even worse Ginny's year had taken House divisions and rivalries to a whole new level. As a consequence there were no interactions between the Houses unless a teacher expressly forced people to work together. People ignored their year mates from other Houses in the corridors and in the Library. Inter-House cooperation was at an all-time low.

And of course being possessed by an insane, sixteen year-old reincarnation of Lord Voldermort had not helped Ginny in the friend making department.

The air in the astronomy tower was now heading towards being boiling, a fact that Ginny became alerted to when the sweat came dripping down from her hair into her eyes. She forced herself to calm down by thinking of the Twins. Fred and George had been fantastic since she had been released from the infirmary. They appeared to have made it their life's mission to make her laugh. Whether it was telling her the newest joke..."what do a kneazle, squib and elf have in common?" or pranking Romilda Vance the twins always seemed to be good for a laugh. The air had cooled dramatically and Ginny was left with a faint smile on her face.

The smile died abruptly when her thoughts suddenly turned to her parent's reactions to her possession. The expressions of shame that her parents wore whenever they know looked at their youngest daughter had haunted Ginny for weeks. Her father had spent the four days she had been in the Hospital Wing lecturing her about how one "Must never trust any magical object that can think for itself". Her mother had barely looked at her the whole time. It didn't seem to matter how many times Dumbledore told Molly and Arthur that it wasn't her fault, that older and wiser wizards had been tricked by You-Know-Who, that he had checked thoroughly and no trace of possession remained. The elder two Weasley's were still wary of their youngest daughter.

She already knew just how stupid she'd been. How she could have killed somebody, how she could have killed Ron. How one of the most evil, vilest people on the planet had possessed her and forced her to do evil, vile things. How she hadn't been strong enough, hadn't tried hard enough to stop Him. How she hadn't done the smart thing and gone and told a teacher when she started losing large chunks of each day. She had been violated in the worst possible way. The one person who she had trusted, confided in had betrayed her. Had mind-raped her, possessed her. Her parents seemed to think that she needed to be reminded of those facts daily. They didn't seem to understand that every waking moment, every dream-like nightmare reminded her of those Hellish nine months.

Thinking of her parents made the ground several hundred feet below look extremely tempting. She subconsciously started to sing the old nursery rhyme "nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I may as well eat worms..." as she stood up.

"Nobody likes me..." the latch of the ancient bay window was extremely stiff but eventually creaked enough to wake the dead and opened "everybody hates me..." clambering up the window was surprisingly easy.

Sitting, leaning out of the window gave Ginny a sense of inner-peace that she had not felt for a long time. She began the final chant of the refrain "I may as well..." In the distance the pick-up game of Quidditch had finished with the capturing of the snitch. The Huge crowd was expressing their roar of approval.

The cheers jolted Ginny back to reality. They made her think about how Bill and Fred and George would feel if she died. How if she died Tom would have won. How such a death was a coward's way out. How she didn't want to be a coward.

She was however still in quite an awkward position. She was hanging out of a raised window, legs dangling down into oblivion. The window was too narrow to allow for her to turn round. The only way to get into the Tower was to literally tumble backwards.

A few minutes later, a very bruised and battered, Ginny Weasley sat up grimacing from pain.

Looking around at the deserted Tower, she wisely decided to leave the place that had once been one of her favourite refuges and would now forever be in her mind a place of sinful weakness and temptation. Wandering down the eight hundred and sixty-seven steps that connected the Astronomy Tower to the rest of the Castle gave Ginny plenty of time to think about where she could go next.

She didn't have the strength or mental fortitude to face the Tower of Horrors that was more commonly known as the Gryffindor Common Room. Anywhere where plenty of people were likely to be congregating was out of the question. Inspiration struck when she reached the five hundredth and fifty-ninth step. The library the night before Summer Break was going to be deserted. Not even Hermione Granger or the most studious Ravenclaw could be bothered to be studying.

Hogwarts library was a glorious place to get lost in. As such it provided a much needed refuge for Hogwarts' social outcasts, of which Ginny was definitely one. Madam Prince banned talking and ruled the room with an iron grip. Musty shelves and ancient tables provided nooks and crannies in out of the way places where no one could find you. It was the type of place that the Romilda Vance's of the world only entered under extreme duress.

The thought of going to the library and finding a spot where she could be alone lifted Ginny's spirits enough that she dragged her aching body down the necessary twenty-six corridors and five staircases that was the most direct route to the library.

When she finally reached the library, she headed straight to the History of Magic Section, wandered through the maze of books and finally sat at the table where the books in the surrounding shelves expounded in great length on the subject of 'Centaur taxation in the eighth century'. The books themselves looked as though they hadn't been touched in centuries. It was a glacially quite section of the library, where nobody ever came and where she was unlikely to be disturbed.

Knowing all of this she allowed her racing mind to settle and begun to sob.

Unfortunately or fortunately depending on how one looked at it the only other person in the library that night happened to be sitting a mere two bookcases away. Upon hearing the heart-rending sobs his first instinct was to turn around and flee. But he had been raised to take duty and honour very seriously indeed. And fleeing away from a damsel in distress under no circumstances could be described as honourable.

Suppressing a sigh, he headed in the direction of the sobs. Walking round a particularly tall bookcase he turned a corner and looked at the pitifully small red-haired girl who was crying as though her heart had broken. If the girl had been one of the upper years he would have tactfully bowed out and beat a hasty retreat. But there was no question that the girl was around his own age. And that left him to do...something.

He decided that he needed to make his presence known. He gently cleared his throat.

Ginny was so startled that her sobs were instantaneously reduced to sniffles. The befuddled surprise swiftly turned to outrage. How dare the dark-haired stranger with the green tie invade her privacy, not tactfully turn around and go away when he heard her cry, come to mock her when she was at her must vulnerable.

The wrath faded when she noticed that the boy was offering her an immaculately ironed, crisp white handkerchief. She took it silently amazed that there was someone in the labyrinth that was Hogwarts that still cared when they saw another human being in distress. The boy took a seat next to her and gave her a moment to compose herself.

It took a while but she finally managed to stop sniffling and hiccupping. She felt completely and utterly drained and wretched. The boy smiled at her, drew his wand and gently cast a pick me up charm on her. The charm had the effect of washing and drying her face, leaving her instantly feeling a tiny bit better.

"You know sometimes it can help to tell somebody what's bothering you" the boy said with an encouraging smile.

She looked at him somewhat doubtfully. Her parents had trained her from earliest childhood not to trust Slytherin's, and there was no doubt that the boy sitting in front of her was a Slytherin. But there was also no doubt that he was the first person in the four walls of the Castle that had been nice to her in nine months. And she hungered for human companionship, for someone to talk to, for someone to laugh with. She desperately needed somebody to draw her out of the nightmarish exile that she was currently in. And he was the only person that had ever even begun to make an effort to draw her out of her shell.

Noticing the turmoil flittering across her face he decided to take pity on her.

"I know that was somewhat presumptuous of me, wasn't it? Let's start with something easier. Because sometimes it can help to have hideously charming young men distract stunningly beautiful young ladies from their troubles" he flashed her a dazzling smile.

"My name's Blaise. Blaise Zabini. I'm a second year, soon to be third year Slytherin. How bout you?"

Despite herself she laughed. "Ginny. Ginny Weasley. First year, soon to be second year. Social outcast of Gryffindor."

He smiles thinking that he's gotten to the route of her distress and is slightly relieved that it's not something more serious.

She notices his smile, correctly guesses the reason behind it, and decides to ask some probing questions of her own.

"So we both know the reason I'm here in the library the night before Summer holidays. What's your excuse?"

"I needed to get away from my housemates. They can be...trying at times" came the smooth answer.

"So are we to be outcasts together?" she smiled at him somewhat hopefully.

"I'm not sure whether outcast would be the best word to describe me. More like hounded, cornered potential ally. But I would like to make a friend at this school...if you would be willing?"

The radiant smile that she gave him was confirmation enough. They spent a pleasant couple of hours talking about The Weird Sister's, her mum's obsession with Celestina Warbeck, Quidditch, Professors, life. The conversation only ended when the bell tolled signalling to students that they had fifteen minutes till curfew.

As neither wanted to be locked into the library for the holidays, they regretfully stood to leave.

Ginny stood there, unable to express the gratitude she felt.

He smiled at her and gently answered the question that she was too afraid to ask. "Would you mind if I owled you over the Summer? "

"I'd like it if you did. The only thing is that we only have one owl and its ancient and..."

He cut her off saying "I'll make sure Andre waits for a return letter. Till September"

"Till September".

She went to bed smiling for the first time since she arrived at Hogwarts. Things were looking up.

A/N

I've always loved Ginny's character but thought that the way Rowling didn't mention in her recovery in book 3 left a bit of a hole. You don't get possessed by pure evil and not suffer some consequences. This is my version of what might have happened (only a bit AU with Blaise/Ginny)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was approaching 3am at the Burrow and all was still in the dead of the night. Six of the seven members of the household were fast asleep, contentedly lost in peaceful dreams. Ginny Weasley was lying fitfully in her bed, staring at the ceiling after hours of tossing and turning in a futile attempt to get to sleep.

The holidays thus far had been a nightmare. Her parents were still treating her like a quasi-criminal, Ron and Percy were treading on eggshells around her and going out of their way to avoid her and the twins were reacting to the unbearable tension in the house by behaving even more maniacal than usual.

Sighing Ginny stopped trying to find answers to problems that had no answers and went back to counting sheep. She had reached her seventieth sheep when her mindless counting was sharply interrupted by the sound of an owl tapping on her window.

She apologetically petted the dashing black owl, scolding herself for forgetting to requisition some owl treats from the Weasley's meagre supply. She sat down and was instantly engrossed in the volume of the letter that she had just received. An hour later when she was finally finished she bolted over to her desk and started scribbling a response.

Lord Blaise Zabini, aka Medici

Casa Novina, Somewhere in Campania.

_Dear Blaise,_

_Words can't express how much your last letter helped to cheer me up. It came at a particularly grim time in these unbearably long holidays. I have only one complaint- three pages extolling the beauties of Campania?! Whilst many young girls of a romantic, overly-sappy frame of mind might appreciate you channelling Byron I'm afraid I will never be one of them. The phrase a picture tells a thousand words comes to mind….Quite seriously though I'm glad one of us are enjoying the holidays._

_The markets in Milan sound absolutely amazing. I'm afraid your detailed descriptions of high fashion were somewhat wa__sted upon poor little me. You must remember that you're talking to somebody that has never owned anything new- let alone haute couture. But the people you described seeing! I'm so jealous… You asked me to send you back a 'taste' of what I've done and seen these holidays._

_So here it goes- don't be too harsh, I'm nowhere near the poet that you are! I live in a semi-rural corner of England, with the village of Ottery St. Catchpole a little over a mile away. The only life forms I see outside my window each morning are chickens and cows_

_. _

_There are a few wizarding families living in the area- but many more are muggles. Our house; the Burrow, is a sight to behold. The only way the entire structure manages to remain upright is through magic- apparently a few too many magically added rooms can do that to a building, especially when the architect cum builder was my dad. _

_The anti-muggle wards make the place look like a dilapidated one room shack, which if i'm being honest is probably how most of the wizarding world sees it. Despite that i've never really minded; its quirks are what gives this house charm and makes it a home. I suppose my brothers might feel less charitably inclined; they have to share rooms and poor old Ron lives underneath one of the nosiest ghouls in existence who frequently drips water through the water into his room at inopportune moments. The advantages of being the only girl!_

_The heart of the Burrow is definitely the kitchen, which is where mum spends hours each day cooking three huge meals. It's where we all congregate together as a family; there's no dining room so we eat in the kitchen instead. Mum's a great cook but terribly traditional; Italian pasta is too foreign for her let alone Asian noodles! When I got to Hogwarts I couldn't believe the huge variety of foods that were on offer. But all we eat is terribly heavy, traditional English fare. It's not so bad in winter but in summer i struggle to finish what's put on my plate -it's almost too rich. And let's face it; even though my mum is a great cook English food in general sucks. But she would be absolutely horrified if i were to point any of this out to her, even before Hogwarts when she still liked me. _

_I think in many ways mum's cooking is representative of her view of life. In many ways her worldview is very sheltered, very insular, not looking beyond the confines of her terribly small world. I wouldn't mind so much if she didn't expect me to become her clone. See mum is very traditional in other aspects too. Men are meant to work and women are meant to stay at home and have children- lots of children. Quite frankly leading the existence that she does is my idea of a nightmare. I know she's happy. I also know that I could never be happy leading the life that she does. It frightens me how she sneers and looks down her nose at those 'scandalous career women'. Women should only work before they get married and even then they should be subservient to men. Every time she begins another rant I have to suppress the urge to stand up and scream "But what about me? What about what I want? What about my hopes and dreams?" It scares me where this will end. I know that if I do what I want mum regard it as a personal betrayal, but if I do as she wants than I will be miserable. What a heavy topic for such a lovely day! Moving right along..._

_My eldest brother Bill is a curse breaker in Egypt. We've always being close; he is the only one of my brothers who writes to me at least once a fortnight and has done since I was old enough to read. Given the huge age gap it's kind of funny that he's the one person out of all my brother's who I feel closest too. _

_Bill is one of those outrageously cool and awesomely smart people who if I didn't love him so much, I would hate; he's almost too perfect. Oh dear...that just made him sound like a paragon. Trust me he's not! He can be impetuous, arrogant, too swift to judge, too slow to change his mind and is most definitively a player. But despite all of that I love him and miss him and I really, really want to see him again. But we can't afford to go to Egypt and Bill hasn't come home for a proper visit for six horribly long years. He's come home for a day or two at Christmas and that's it. _

_There was this huge row. Mum's idea of Utopia (don't you love Walter Scott, I could read him forever) is for someone to get married at eighteen, get a job at the Ministry, rise through the ranks and have lots and lots of children. And Bill got a ludicrous amount of Outstanding's in his NEWTs, was head boy and was a pureblood. A job at the ministry was his for the taking. Only he didn't take it. He applied to Gringott's and got accepted into the Curse breakers Academy. He wanted to see something more of the world, do something more than the conventional 9-5 job and he's always been nutters about runes and wards. To cut a long story short mum went spare, Bill left and dad as usual didn't do anything. Dad keeps ruefully mentioning that we should take a family visit to visit Bill. Typical dad; realising too late to do anything that he made a mistake and coming up with a solution that we'd never be able to afford._

_My brother Charlie works at a Dragon Preserve in Romania. We've never been as close. There's too much of an age-gap between us. When he announced what he wanted to do mum raised no objections. I think she'd given up on him. Care of Magical Creatures was just about the only subject that he got a grade about Acceptable in his NEWTs. He was really good at Quidditch but they have really short career spans and then nothing to fall back upon. _

_Mum would say that she loves us all too pieces and would be aghast if anyone ever thought that she favoured any of her children. But I think if I had to pick a child; Percy would be it. Percy is ambitious; so ambitious that sometimes I wonder how on earth he got into Gryffindor. If I had to pick a word to describe Percy it would be pompous. You know how prefect selections come out these holidays? Percy's been driving everyone mad fretting whether he will get it. Percy's life dream is to become the Minister of Magic. Mum couldn't be happier._

_I'm tired of writing about my family. Fred, George, Ron and dad will have to wait for another letter. Your letter was revealing you know. More for what it didn't say than for what it did. You said your dad was dead and then said absolutely nothing about your mother. Do you even live with her Blaise?_

_Back to village life. When I was little I used to love going down to the village; it was like a whole new world and it was fantastic. My mum loathes grocery shopping (or more the fact that economy necessitates that she has to buy in the muggle world) so she used to send us kids. We grew most of our stuff, but some goods like flour we have to buy.. _

_But as I grew I began to understand just why my brothers loathed going so much. The owner of the grocery store is a lovely old lady by the name of Mrs Landingham. Every time we went she used to give us kids free fruit. It wasn't till last year that I finally got that she does it because she doesn't think we get fed at home. I cringe with embarrassment whenever I think of it. Our robes might be eighth-handed but our muggle clothes are even worse. The entire town thinks my parents are some type of new-age Hippies. But despite all of that the muggle world is truly amazing; it's like a real life fairytale. Have you ever been to the pictures? It's awesome! Apparently muggles have this thing called television that allows them to watch movies all the time. I'm really jealous; TV is so much better than the wizarding wireless._

_But if I had to nominate one muggle thing that I couldn't possibly live without it would be there literature. I could read their novels all day long. Muggles, unlike most wizards, seem to understand the joy and pleasure and pain that comes with reading fanciful tales. They understand that words, even fictional words, have the power to open minds and to change the world. That's what makes Ron's friend, Hermione Granger, such an enigma to me. She's muggleborn so she should understand but she doesn't. Everybody always talks about what a bookworm she is but she doesn't truly read anything she devours. She just regurgitates what she's read and recites it verbatim as the gospel truth. She never questions what she reads or tries to add her own knowledge to what she's just stated. When you hear her talk it's like she's a walking encyclopaedia, but like all encyclopaedia's she only scratches the surface of any given subject and never goes any deeper._

_I hate to end on that though but the sun's rising and mum will be up soon. Thanks for writing Blaise._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Ginny_

_PS Your owl's adorable, but I'm afraid I've forgotten his name?_

Tying the letter to the owls outstretched leg, she sank into bed, going to sleep with a smile on her face for the first time in weeks.

It felt like she had slept only moments when she was rudely awoken the next morning by her mother's sharp knock on the door, accompanied by the barked order "Get Up!"

Dragging exhausted body out of bed was a chore, but it was better than facing her mother's inevitable wrath if she had to come upstairs to rouse her once more. She was even gladder that she had forced herself out of bed when she saw the letter lying on the desk. She hurriedly hid it in her most secure hiding location and then dragged herself down to the breakfast table.

She had never thought that she would ever feel the urge to flee in the Burrows kitchen but the desire to get out had been growing ever since she got home. And thus life went on.

A week later her father came home and announced that he'd won the Grand Galleon Prize Draw and that he could now afford to go to Egypt. And for the first time, in a long time, Ginny felt what it was like to experience a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.

A/N I'm a bit worried that Ginny seems too ready to give away too much to a perfect stranger. My explanation? She's so very lonely and getting no support from home. Also for the point of plot Fleur's older.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first thing that Ginny felt upon stepping out of the fireplace at Cairo International Floo Network was an unbelievably dry heat that pervaded the entire building despite the numerous cooling charms futilely attempting to keep the vast cavernous space cool.

Then she was being swept into a pair of muscled, sun-bronzed arms that held her tightly, so tightly that it was difficult to breathe. She started to sob in the arms that were holding her as if they never wanted to let her go. It only lasted a few moments before they both reluctantly remembered themselves and let go of each other.

"The rest of us are standing right here William" her mother's voice sharply reminded her eldest son.

The two siblings looked at each other in resignation, before turning as a united front to face the rest of the family.

With a stiff smile on his face Bill went and pecked his mother on the cheek, before extending a handshake with his dad.

His smile when he turned to face his four younger brothers was much more genuine. "You four horrors seem to have shot up since I saw you last. Perce you're wearing a prefect badge- i told you that you'd get it! As for you two..." Fred and George immediately plastered their most innocent expressions on their face, "I warn you I am prepared. Any pranks will be met with swift retaliation, understood? Hey Ron, I see Scabber's is somehow still going strong; have you considered a career in animal care? Anyways if you come this way, I've already arranged for a portkey but it's illegal to use it in this Hall..."

Already moving Bill used his wand to pick up the luggage and have it float behind him leaving the family no choice but to follow him.

Ginny took a moment to observe her family's reactions to seeing Bill for the first time in almost two years. Her mother had the same sour look on her face that appeared anytime that Bill or for that matter Bill's career was mentioned. Her father had the forced jovial expression that was almost his de facto facial expression, acting as usual as though nothing was wrong in the family dynamics. Percy had puffed up with pride the moment that Bill had mentioned his Prefect status, obviously enjoying the praise of at least one of his siblings. The twins were already engaged in hushed conversation, clearly attempting to come up with a fool-proof plan to prank their eldest brother, who had the audacity to promise retaliation. And Ron...Ron was the hardest of all her siblings to read. In this case Ginny had no idea what Ron was thinking.

The moment they stepped out of the Hall, they all grabbed their particular luggage and grabbed hold of the long thin rope that was their portkey. They spun around in the magical vortex for what seemed an eternity but in actuality were only a few moments before coming in to land on sand. Ginny, Fred, George, Percy and Ron all landed in a heap in the sand. The three adults who had landed gracefully on their feet stifled coughs obviously trying not to laugh at the predicament that the youngsters were in.

Ginny had taken a kick in the side and felt more than a little bruised and battered. Her mood was not improved by the fact that most magical children her age had long since learnt how to travel by portkey. The eminent expert on magical transportation, Leopold Duce, had estimated three centuries ago that it usually only took about ten trips by portkey before a magical child became acquainted enough with the transportation to be able to travel comfortably. But portkey's were an unfordable luxury for the Weasley family and it was only the second time that Ginny had ever travelled by portkey.

She stood up shakily, finally beginning to take notice of her surroundings. Directly in front of her, perhaps five hundred metres in the distance, towered rows upon rows of pyramids hugging the River Nile. She turned around, noticing for the first time, the unassuming white canvas tent.

She mischievously looked at her brother and in an undertone asked "So this is the infamous love shack?"

Unfortunately she did not notice her mother standing a mere two feet away. If looks kill Ginny would have been fried to a crisp.

Her mother immediately went off on a long-winded rant about the inappropriateness of Bill engaging in that sort of behaviour, of Bill being so divorced from common sense as to mention his depraved night-time activities with any young innocent girl- let his sister and cumulating in "and are you honestly meaning to tell me that you live in a tent! Because if you are there is no power on this earth that will convince me to stay here, young man! Honestly a tent, your father and I raised you better than to be tent-trash..."

Bill had finally had enough and interrupted his mother with a tone of quiet authority "Come and see inside and if you still don't want to stay than I'll arrange for a Hotel."

Ginny, unlike the rest of her family, had seen pictures of the 'tent' and pushed forward eagerly. The tent consisted of four bed rooms, a study, a library and the most drop dead gorgeous open-plan living room that Ginny had ever seen. The beautifully polished wooden floorboards creaked underfoot. The windows reflected the view outside. On one side of the house the windows showed sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see, whilst in stark contrast on the other side of the house, the windows showed the breathtaking lushness of the river and the towering pyramids that hugged it, whilst in the distance the sun had begun to set.

Bill, who had silently followed her into the house, took her hand and escorted her to her room. Her breathe hitched as she saw the absolutely gorgeous room that her eldest brother had given her. The room itself was about as big as the entire ground floor of the Burrow. Standing in the centre of the room was a massive antique four-poster bed. Perched in between two windows was the most gorgeously petite writing desk that she had ever seen. Noticing two doors off to the side of the room, Ginny hurried off to explore. One room was a walk-in closet that was literally bigger than her bedroom at home; the other was a massive luxuriously-appointed marble bathroom. Having finished her whirlwind tour of her set of rooms Ginny ran back to her room- only to find that Bill had gone to settle in the rest of the family.

She slowly opened the door, faltering for a second when she heard her mother's voice disdainfully stating "I suppose this will do..."

Closing her eyes she attempted to contain the surge of anger that she felt towards her mother. Her mother who so superbly disdainful of this gorgeous house contained in a tent, who was so disdainful of Bill's hopes and dreams and career, who couldn't bring herself to love Ginny anymore.

It was hearing Bill's calm, measured voice that stopped Ginny from descending into yet another orgy of grief and guilt and despair. "What would you like to do this evening? I thought we might..."

Once again her mother did not give him time to finish, before interrupting "Have some consideration! We're all bone weary and ready for some rest. I, for one, am going to bed now."

Bill looked over at Ginny, still standing in the doorway, and smiled.

Which is how Ginny found herself sneaking out of the tent and traipsing across the desert with her eldest brother a couple of hours later.

Even by English standards it was a bitterly cold evening, especially when juxtaposed with the searing midday heat. There was a kind of eerie beauty to the scene, with brother and sister being the only sign of life, the horizon framed by the massive pyramids and endlessly clear stars. They walked in companionable silence for a few miles, going uphill the entire way, long enough to be out of sight of the tent.

It was when they reached the top of the sand dune that Ginny realised from the mischievous smirk her brother was giving her that he had something up his sleeve.

It was somewhat of a letdown when he triumphantly produced a matchstick. Disappointment soon morphed into excitement when she saw what he intended to do with it. A wave of his wand and the matchstick had been transfigured into a toboggan.

She was unable to keep the delighted laughter out of her voice when she attempted to ask the serious question of "Have you ever done this before?"

Reassured by the nod of his head, she sat on the front of the toboggan, whilst he hopped on the back, and they flew down the dune.

They stopped mere metres from an oasis- a clear blue pond for swimming in, palm trees and hammocks waiting.

Looking at the abundance of life, stranded in the middle of the desert she said the first thing that came to mind.

"That can't be natural."

"No, well actually they do exist, but this one was created for Gringotts employees. I thought it might be a good place for us to have a chat- you know, away from the inquisition? You know, reading your letters you'd think that everything was fine, that nothing bad had ever happened to you... How are you really?"

Ginny had tensed up the moment the subject had shifted from the oasis. The light in her eyes, which had briefly shone upon the joy of being reunited with Bill, died, and she forced a smile onto her face.

"Like you said I'm fine."

Her brother took in a deep breath and didn't speak for a minute. She watched him knowingly- Bill had always been one for a forthright approach when it came to discussing feelings.

"You know, I have this muggleborn apprentice from New Zealand. Great guy- bit of a movie buff though. Actually you two would probably get on like a house on fire. Anyways we have these enforced rest days when we're not allowed to be anywhere near the tombs, and this bloke, he has a movie theatre set up in his tent. So he invites the team along all the time to watch what he calls 'classic' movies. They all blur together in my mind, movies aren't really my thing. But in one of the movies this character talks about what being fine really means. If you're fine you're actually freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Does that ring any bells for you Gin?"

She looked at him, stunned, completely blindsided as to where that conversation had being heading. Vaguely in the back of her head she noted that her brother had more emotional depth than she had given him credit for. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she looked hard at her brother.

He steadily returned her gaze. This conversation was not going to end any time soon.

In that moment she realised it too. It was all it took for months of walls, built up brick by brick to protect herself, to crumble into dust. As her walls crumbled so did she.

Bill was at her side in moments, clutching her tight, as she sobbed till she could sob no more. When she was finally too exhausted to cry anymore Bill waved his wand, transfigured a few items, and begun to make them both a cup of coco.

"Tell me what's making you so miserable Gin" he coaxed.

And she did. Beginning with the way her classmates hated her and how she couldn't bring herself to blame them, since she hated herself too. Moving on to the way their dad couldn't bring himself to look at her anymore and how her mum blamed her for the entire episode. She talked about how her brother's ignored her very existence at Hogwarts. The soul-destroying lonliness. And then, very apprehensively, she told Bill about Blaise.

It was the only time in her entire narrative that Bill's face lost its grim tension.

"Gin, I can't... I can't fix all your problems... But I need you to know this. I love you. I've loved you always and will love you always. Your classmates need time... time to forget. In the mean time Blaise sounds nice and if you want to write to me every day then do so, I will reply. None of this is your fault, and just because our parents are too idiotic to see that, doesn't make it any the less true. As for the parents- they are what they are. I made my peace with that a long time ago and I think you need to so too. I wouldn't tell mum and dad, about you being friends with a Slytherin, they're too prejudiced. You and I can be the family exiles together, hey? Having said that I don't think it will be too long before Fred and George join us on the dark side... "

The cuddle that finished his reassurance left her feeling more at peace than she had in a long time. They lay in the hammock, peacefully staring at the stars, for a long time. Unfortunately they both dozed off pretty much a so at the same time. Ginny awoke first, alerted to the lateness of the hour by how hot she was suddenly feeling. When she became aware of her surroundings she fell rather inelegantly out of the hammock. Unfortunately that led to Bill also being deposited on the ground and also being rudely awoken.

Ginny started to absolutely panic, "We're at least an hours walk away, probably more, mum's going to go ballistic..."

She was interrupted by her brothers calm drawl "Are you a witch or not? I'll appaparte you back to your room... As for mum discovering that we've been out- I won't tell if you don't. I'm a curse breaker and I like to experiment in my house. Nobody's getting into a room that they haven't been assigned to without the express permission of the occupant. Remember- the story is we've slept in."

xxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooo

Thousands of miles away, a young boy sat in an incredibly luxurious villa. He was surrounded by thick files containing information about his infinitely large business interests. Later in the day the Italian minister of magic would be stopping by for a macchiato, which would then be followed by a meeting with the various heads of the clans. Both needed him to adjudicate a trade dispute that had erupted between the ministry and the mafia. If he could not find a solution magical Italy would come to a standstill. And as Italy was one of the powerhouses of the wizarding world economies global trade would suffer as a consequence.

He needed to be on top of his game. But try as he might he could not stop himself from brooding about an unexpected encounter that he had had a day earlier. He had been shopping in the Plaza, stocking up on some new dress robes, when he had seen his mother in the distance. She was accompanied by a suave looking fellow- either her seventh husband or one of her many affairs. Blaise had never tried to keep up to date with his mother's love life. It was a full time job for many of the paparazzi and tabloid gossip rags. But never the less yesterday he couldn't bring himself to stop looking at her. When she tried to come over and say hello his security detail stopped her in her tracks. He knew it was stupid- that she was a world class manipulator, but he couldn't get her hurt look out of his head. Looking around at his desk, he looked for something, anything to distract himself.

He found an unopened letter and begun to lose himself in Ginny's world.

A/N This has been sitting in my harddrive for a while...I've been travelling and access to the internet hasn't been great. Thanks to the PersonOverThere for beta-ing this. Good news- should have another chapter up before i go to the family's holiday house on the coast in nsw for Christmas (where internet-connections are non-existant). Once again a huge thanks to everybody who has been responding to this story!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The rest of Ginny's visit to Egypt could be best summed up by the old adage; what your mother doesn't know, can't hurt her. Molly seemed to take great joy in listing all the things that it wouldn't be 'appropriate' for Ginny to do but which she had no problems with her sons doing. As this included going to the night markets and all of the more interesting tombs Ginny was left to fume in furious silence until she and Bill could catch a moment alone together and plot.

Ginny couldn't suppress the mischievous smile that appeared whenever she thought about the solution that she and Bill had come up with. Bill and Ginny had great fun sneaking out in the dead of night, seeing the midnight rush at the bazaars and revisiting the tombs for a private midnight viewing.

Her favourite moment of the entire holidays, however, would have to have been when Bill took her to a custom wand maker to get her own wand. Her birthday had been celebrated in a rather mechanical manner. Her parents went through the motions, bringing forth the requisite cake and singing happy birthday. The presents themselves, for the most part, left much to be desired. Charlie had sent a doll more appropriate for a six year old, Percy had given her a _second-hand_ quill, Ron mustered a chocolate frog and her parents gave her a dress which looked as though it had been salvaged from the bargain bin at a knut-value store. Forge and Gred had given her a highly suspicious homemade powder with the description; 'for pranking undesirables'. All in all it was not shaping up to be a fantastic birthday (with the possible exception of the twins present)...until that night when Bill and Ginny snuck out as per their custom.

He had that mysterious half-smile on his face which made her knew that whatever he was hiding had to do with suprising her on her birthday. She knew Bill well enough to know that her present from him was not going to solely consistent of socks... Which did not make her any less suprised or any less delighted when he apparated her in front of Mustafa's Wand Crafting Shope 432 BCE.

With a delighted half-laugh, half-shriek she was in his arms being swirled around. Now everytime she lifts or touches her nine inch mahagony and unicorn hair wand she thinks of Bill and can't help but smile.

The last night Ginny and Bill retraced their steps and went back to the oasis. They walked through the desert in companionable silence, lazed in the hammock which hung suspended between the palm trees and talked to the sun rose.

But all good things must come to an end. The next day the Weasley family once again stood in the Cairo International Floo Terminal. Ginny stared at the massive fireplace which housed the green flames that were due to take her back to England. Egypt may have cleansed both her mind and spirit but the knots doing summersaults in her stomach seemed to indicate that a few days in England would be enough to bury her soul once more.

She mentally shook herself out of the morbid direction her thoughts had taken her and rejoined the rest of the family who were participating in somewhat awkward goodbyes. The trip rather than easing strained family relations seemed to have just exacerbated the divisions within the family. Bill deliberately left her to last, sweeping her into a massive bear hug and whispering "remember sis, when mum and dad are making you feel dismal, we've joined the dark side together". Shooting her insufferable elder brother a sardonic look over her shoulder, Ginny grabbed a handful of floo powder, took a deep breath and coolly stated "London International Floo Terminal".

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Blaise had spent the last month acting as an adjudicator whilst two intractably opposed groups feuded via holding Italy's economy hostage. He was due back in Hogwarts in two days and the conflict seemed no closer to resolution than it had a month ago. He had a colossal headache, which wasn't helped by the theatrical yelling that was taking place over his dining room table.

He closed his eyes, seeking to draw on an exhausted reservoir of calmness and patience, only to open his eyes a moment later when the insufferable din was raised by another few notches. The Italian Minister of Magic Gaia Facta had risen from her chair and was screeching at a very smug looking Lugi Pella, who as the leader of the biggest mafia clan had been appointed as lead negotiator.

Screw patience.

He snapped his fingers which instantly led to the villa's head house elf appearing. Smiling thinly he requested a copy of the International Wizardry Financial Review. The front page headlined with 'Italy in Crisis'. He turned the page and immersed himself in an article talking about Estonia's rising economy.

The Minister for Agriculture was the first person to notice Blaise's complete and utter indifference to the negotiations happening in front of him. Instinctively he stopped speaking, rose from his plush leather chair and gazed at the thirteen year old who was for all intents and purposes ignoring the chaos around him. One by one the twenty adults sitting in the leather chairs quietened, whilst the countless aids stood frozen around the room.

The room had been reduced to complete and utter silence long before Blaise finished his article on Estonia's 10% GDP growth. Smirking slightly, he turned a page and started to read about New Zealand's Wizengamot's divisions. The nervous tension in the room kept rising. It was not until he had finished the second article that he deliberately folded the paper up and looked at the adults standing like errant school children in front of him.

"You have successfully wasted a full month of my extremely valuable holiday time with this moronic dispute. Should you force me to delay my return to school I will be extremely displeased. I expect a deal to be on my study desk by this evening. If there isn't not only will there be hell to pay but I can guarantee that the solution I will come up will suit neither the mafia nor the ministry! Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

"But..."

"He..."

Blaise with a raised hand and death glare silenced the uproar.

"I would suggest that as a compromise the Ministry agrees to postpone for 10 years the plan to impose regulatory oversight on prices on legal goods and services, whilst in return the clans agree to a 2% rise in business tax. Given that the tax has been driven down to the absurd level of 5% I do not consider such an increase to be unreasonable. Such a compromise would mean that there would be no strikes, the ministry would still be able to provide essential services to our people, our economy and thus the global economy will continue to prosper. Most importantly of all it would make me happy. The clock is ticking people..."

Blaise swept out of the room leaving a stunned group of adults in his wake.

That night having returned from the opera, he found on his desk a signed agreement to raise the business tax by 2% and the ministry's counter agreement to postpone enforcing regulatory oversight.

He smiled slightly and settled down to reading the postcard Ginny had sent from Egypt.

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The Weasley family had barely managed to walk in their front door after waiting for hours to be processed at London's notoriously slow International floo terminal before Albus Dumbledore's head appeared in their fireplace.

As this was hardly an everyday occurrence Ginny's curiosity was peaked. It was not to be immediately satisfied though, as her mother immediately ordered all her children out into the garden.

It was truly phenomenal how fast the normally unruly garden had been transformed into an impenetrable tangle of out of control plants. The sight of the garden united the siblings in uniform horror as they gazed transfixed at the scene in front of them. It appeared as though the entire population of garden gnomes in the British Isles had taken up residence in the Burrow's garden and had taken advantage of the Weasley's absence by throwing orgy's. The lavender was doing its best to smother the vegetable garden, the creeping vines were strangling willows, algae covered the pond, the gnomes had thrown trash everywhere.

Looking at the magically resistant plants and animals running riot in her backyard Ginny was very thankful that she was due back at school the day after tomorrow and that she had yet to do any school shopping. Getting the garden back into any type of order was going to take weeks.

Sighing Ginny looked at her dumbstruck brothers.

"Since we all know that she will go absolutely spare if she comes out and see's us ignoring what's in front of us, we might as well try to restore some...order"

Which was how Ginny found herself being bitten by garden gnomes, assaulted by Cornish pixies and strangled by creeping vines on the second last day of the summer holidays.

It was thus to her considerable relief when it was announced over dinner that night that the entire family would be going to Diagon Ally first thing tommorrow, would stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the night and catch the Hogwarts express the next day.

It was more a sign of her complete and utter exhaustion than a lack of mental acuity that led to Ginny neglecting to wonder why her parent's would pay the not inconsiderable expense of housing their entire brood at the Cauldron for the night when it could just as easily be spent at home.


End file.
