19 September 1995

A sharp snap of a ruler on the book in front of her brought Ginny back to reality with a nasty shock. She’d been waiting for potions to begin (for some inexplicable reason Professor Snape was late in getting to class) and had, most unfortunately, allowed her mind to wander. She had allowed herself to concentrate instead on Harry’s Transfiguration lesson where Professor McGonagall was demonstrating the vanishment of kittens (which was to be the next step in their lessons on vanishing) to her fifth year class.

"Miss Weasley is currently unable to join the class in turning to page one hundred and forty three," said Snapes sneering voice. "Detention Weasley, my office, 8:00 p.m., Saturday night, my office."

Ginny bit her tongue, resisting the urge to tell Snape what he could do with his detention, and instead gave him a curt nod. Well, she was a Weasley after all. Couldn’t expect Snape to give her a fair shake, especially not after some of the stunts Fred and George had pulled. Anyway, since he couldn’t complain about the quality of her work (Ginny was easily top of their year in potions) he had to get at her some way.

She flipped to page one hundred forty three where the directions for the Forgetfulness Potion were listed, along with the descriptions of how the various stages should look. She smirked down at an illustration showing a wizard with an empty goblet in his hands and a vacant expression on his face. Too bad she couldn’t force-feed Snape his own potion, make him forget his own fucking subject.

"And I think ten points from Gryffindor while we’re at it," said Snape lazily. "Just to keep you from getting any –ideas."

Ginny stared at him, an odd, tingling sensation in her head as she gazed into his cold, black eyes.

He knows! She thought wildly. He knows what I’m thinking!

She was aware of the fact that Harry (who had just managed to make all but the right front leg of his mouse disappear completely) drop the leg he had just picked up, and watch in exasperation as it scampered off across the floor and wriggled through a crack in the baseboard.

Of course I know what you’re thinking! Harry snapped, whipping out his wand and summoning the mouse (or what was left of it) back into his hand.

Harry looked around, bemusedly. Why, he thought, should I be thinking about Snape being able to read my thoughts?

Ginny slapped her hand across her mouth, desperate to keep from laughing. The stupid prat; still thinking he was talking to himself! She grinned broadly as she laid out her Potion ingredients. He’d figure it out one day. Probably after he rid himself of the stupid notion that there could be anything between him and Cho.

The thought floated through Ginny’s head and she suddenly found herself thinking dreamily about Cho’s shining black hair and petite, doll-like features.

"And another ten points from Gryffindor for drooling on your Valerian root!" snapped Snape.

Ginny went bright pink and bent over her Valerian root, chopping it methodically. God, between Umbridge and Snape and Harry’s fantasies, this was turning out to be one hell of a year.

* * *

"You okay Ginny?" asked Colin curiously as they walked up from Potions an hour later.

"Would be if we didn’t have Defense Against the Dark Arts next."

"Yeah, stupid great cow," said Colin angrily. "Can you believe that she doesn’t want us to learn magic?"

"Of course I can believe it," snapped Ginny. She’d just got a glimpse of Cho, floating across the hall, accompanied by her best friend, a curly-haired Ravenclaw girl whose name Ginny didn’t know.

"No need to snap," said Colin, his eyebrows raised. They were standing outside of the Defense classroom now, waiting for Umbridge to unlock her door. "What’s with you anyway, Ginny? Ever since this school year started you’ve been biting people’s heads off left and right!"

"Its called sexual frustration," said a creamy, high-pitched voice from just behind them.

Colin wheeled on the spot, but Ginny merely said "Hello Mandy," without turning.

"What are you on about?" asked Colin bluntly, staring at Mandy’s perfectly arranged curls as if he’d never seen anything so obscene before in his life.

"Sexual frustration Colin," said Mandy sweetly. "It comes from leading guys on, and then not following through. You know," she said, lowering her voice to conspiratorial whisper, which nevertheless carried through the entire Hall, "Michael does seem to be getting a little restless lately."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" asked Ginny, finally turning to look at Mandy, who stared back at her with her innocently wide china-blue eyes.

"Why, unless you want to loose him, I’d suggest that you give him a little more than a few intensive snogging sessions," said Mandy sagely. "He’s used to a little more, ah, variety, if you know what I mean."

Ginny stared. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she and Michael were going out together, but how on earth had Mandy known that snogging was all that she and Michael had done, or that he had indeed been trying for more?

Just last night he’d tried to slip his hand under her shirt when they’d been ensconced in the broom cupboard on the third floor, but she’d squirmed out of his reach, laughingly protesting that they’d miss curfew if they didn’t get going, saying that she couldn’t afford any more detentions.

Michael had taken it well, or at least he had seemed to. She wasn’t ready for that, at least not with Michael. Well, at least not yet. She hardly knew the guy. She hardly ever even got to see him.

It was frustrating enough to have a boyfriend who seemed to prefer spending his leisure time with his cronies Anthony and Terry. And when they did get to see each other alone, Michael was always dragging her into empty classrooms or pulling her into broom cupboards, seemingly more interested in snogging than in talking or just being together.

Who had said that? Oh yeah, her Gran’s journal. She’d read a bit about this one guy her Gran had dated during her fifth year. From the sound of it, the bloke had been a real charmer, brining her flowers and little gifts and going out of his way to walk her to classes and sitting by her during dinner and everything. But whenever they were alone, there only and always seemed to be but one thing on his mind, and talk had been out of the question.

And Michael doesn’t even bother to bring me gifts, thought Ginny ruefully, and found herself grinning as Harry shook his head, clearing it, trying to concentrate on his next mouse and wondering why he should care two cents about somebody named Michael brining him gifts.

* * *

23 September 1995

Ginny was exhausted and covered from head to toe in eel slime when she climbed through the portrait hole and into the dimly lit Gryffindor common room. It was past one in the morning and Ginny had been desperately hoping that no one would be up to see her in this condition.

Milking acid eels was a nasty business, but they had to be alive when you milked them or the milk would loose its potency, and of course the eels would prefer not to be milked. The result being that they would let loose their one effective defense, a nasty, rancid smelling slime. The slime refused all attempts to wipe it away and oozed into every poor and orifice that it could find, giving off a mild burning sensation that made any exposed skin feel as if it had been badly sunburned.

"What the hell happened to you?" It was Harry’s voice from somewhere near the fireplace.

"Detention with Snape," snarled Ginny, feeling particularly aggrieved to be seen by Harry of all people in this state.

"What did he do, dump you in the lake?"

"Funny ha, ha," said Ginny. "No, I crept down after I was finished milking his damned acid eels and threw myself in." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and she glared at Harry, daring him to try another smart remark.

"Is that acid eel slime?" asked Harry, his eyes going wide. "Why didn’t you clean yourself off? That stuff can eat right into your skin if it stays on too long!"

"Because Snape confiscated my wand," snapped Ginny, rounding on him as if he were personally to blame for the entire evening – which, she thought bitterly – was probably the truth of it. "He vanished it, said it would be back in my dorm but that the eels wouldn’t react to friendly to having an active wand where they could see it."

"But he used his own wand to do the spell," said Harry, giving her a lopsided grin that reminded Ginny forcefully of Neville Longbottom. "Figures, he just didn’t want you to be able to use magic to finish the job. Here now, stand still." Harry pulled his own wand from his pocket and pointed at Ginny. "Scorgify!" he said firmly. An instant later Ginny’s robes were slime-free once again, and even her hair seemed to have been washed and brushed for her.

"There, now we’re even," said Harry, grinning at her as she patted herself down, looking for any slime he may have missed. "You cleaned up that Stinksap for me on the train coming in, now it’s my turn."

"I thought you weren’t into householdy spells?" said Ginny, grinning back at him, after admitting to herself that he had done a rather good job of cleaning her up.

"That’s Tonks," said Harry promptly, then shot her a sharp look.

He was wondering what had caused her to say that bit about the householdy spells. Ginny stared back, not bothering to blink. "Because, you great prat, your room at your Aunt and Uncle’s house is a right pig sty." It was Harry’s turn to blink, but Ginny hadn’t finished. "And I know that because Tonks told me!" she said waspishly. "She was downright admiring when she said it, but then again, she’s not exactly the neatest person I’ve ever met and anyone who lets there room get in that sort of condition can’t be very interested in householdy spells."

The bit about Tonks telling her about Harry’s room being a mess was a downright lie, and from the skeptical look Harry was giving her, he was very much aware of the fact, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself.

"Come off it, Ginny, you know we can’t use magic outside of school," said Harry with a forced laugh.

"That’s not the point," said Ginny dismisively. "There’s other things you could use, pre-packaged charms and stuff."

"I’m not taking the chance of running amok of the Ministry again," said Harry flatly. "Besides," he added, looking sideways at her with a mischievous grin, "my Aunt Petunia would die of shock if I were to start actually cleaning my room."

"What are you doing up, anyway?" asked Ginny to change the subject.

"Couldn’t sleep," grunted Harry. "Stomach ache."

"Why didn’t you go to Madam Pomfrey?" asked Ginny slyly. She knew exactly why Harry had been experiencing an upset stomach. Hadn’t she been dealing with that sort of thing ever since Harry had come out of the maze? Every time Harry got angry it translated to Ginny as an upset stomach. Had she really been that angry tonight? She’d called on her Elements to keep her from loosing her temper, but that hadn’t stopped her insides from roiling with anger as she milked the damned eels.

"Doesn’t matter," said Harry, shrugging. "It feels better now anyway. Night Gin," he said and, turning on his heels made his way up the staircase to the boys dorms.

* * *

"So, what do I do?" asked Ginny, sliding down one of the standing stones and putting her head in her hands. "It’s driving me mad Mira, it really is! He can’t keep his eyes – or his mind – off of her!"

"I’ve told you before Ginny, this is a temporary phase for him," said Mira soothingly, one smooth, cool hand resting on Ginny’s head. "It’s not going to last, I promise you."

Ginny had called the elements, and Mira had come, just as she’d known she would, but what good was spilling her guts to this implacable woman going to do for her if she was just going to sit here and mouth platitudes.

"That’s all fine and good to say!" snapped Ginny angrily. "But how am I supposed to ignore it every time he starts fantasizing about that bi – about Cho?"

"I take it you don’t like her," said Mira, smiling slightly and looking at Ginny with a pitying sort of expression.

"Well, I find her a bit of a fraud," said Ginny flatly. "For starters."

"Ginevra, if I were to tell you where Cho’s road will lead her, you’d probably laugh yourself silly."

"Why? What’s going to happen to her?" asked Ginny, a hopeful note in her voice.

"Nothing she doesn’t deserve," said Mira elusively, "and a bit more than she was planning on, let me tell you, and while she will find her soulmate, you don’t have to worry about her taking yours."

"The she and Cedric, they weren’t-"

"Soulmates? No. They are – or in Cedric’s case were slated to have them."

"Why’s she so upset then," grumbled Ginny. "I mean I suppose I understand, they were going out and everything."

"Yes, and it is quite possible to fall in love with someone who is not your Soulmate. It’s not the same kind of love, mind you, but it can still be quite intense."

Ginny thought about this for a few minutes before asking the next question on her mind.

"Does Harry – does he, erm, fall in love with Cho?"

"Oh heavens no!" said Mira, chuckling appreciatively. "He’s got a massive crush is all. He’s built her up in his mind until she is everything he’s ever thought he wanted in a girlfriend." She gave Ginny a sideways glance, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Trust me dearest, once he gets a taste of you, all thoughts of Cho or anyone else go right out the window."

Feeling rather mollified, Ginny paid strict attention to Mira’s lesson, which included tips on using moon magic for enhancing spells that usually were good for only a day or two into spells that would last for the entire moon-cycle. This included everything from birth control to charms to keep your legs smooth and your hair conditioned, memory and attention enhancement spells as well as one that sounded really interesting that Mira called the Centering spell.

Centering, it turned out, was a spell designed to channel excess sexual and which was supposed to generate an aura of cool detachment and sexual allurement. Ginny was wondering about how this would affect her snogging sessions with Michael when Mira assured her that by "excess sexual energy" she meant exactly that.

Any sexual energy that Ginny didn’t use during the day would be redistributed while she slept and would go into generating this aura. Mira also said that this could be a sort of self-perpetuating spell, seeing as that the aura of cool detachment and sexual allurement would bring even more interest from the male species, who would find themselves intrigued and wary at the same time.

"Sounds like my kind of spell," said Ginny, grinning broadly, then added, considering, "actually, it reminds me of Bill."

"Bingo!" said Mira delightedly. "That’s what caught Fleur’s attention after all. The more attention she pays to him, the cooler and more intriguing he becomes."

"Definitely Bill!"

"This brings you the attention you crave, while leaving you enough reaction time to respond to come-ons and propositions in a properly dignified manner."

"Mum would flip," said Ginny, grinning broadly as she thought of her mother’s reaction were she to learn that her only daughter, her fourteen year old daughter, was learning a spell that would render her attractive and alluring to the opposite sex.

"Undoubtedly," said Mira, smirking slightly. "But what your mother doesn’t know . . ." she affected a look of utmost innocence as her voice trailed away.

Ginny snorted in amusement.

"Ginny, there’s going to be a lot of things that you can’t tell your mother," said Mira, suddenly all seriousness. "You’ve already realized that it is," she paused, searching for the right word, "unwise to give her too much ammunition."

"Damn straight!" said Ginny fervently. "But I’ve got you, I can tell you things, can’t I?"

"Of course you can tell me anything you want," said Mira gently, "but my time with you is limited."

"You keep saying that," said Ginny, frowning slightly.

"The good news is that when I leave you’ll only have a few months before Harry comes around."

"What’s the bad news?"

"That once I’ve gone, once my time is used up, I won’t be able to be here to help you any more."

"What do you mean by your time being used up?"

"What I mean is that the way I come to you – from the future, as you’ve probably already guessed - is a type of magic. It has a time limit. Every time I come to see you I use up another day on my allotment. Very soon now my time will be up."

"The why don’t you skip months?" asked Ginny, desperate to extend her time with Mira as long as possible. "Why don’t you spread it out farther?"

"Because what I’m teaching you you’re going to need sooner than you could possibly expect."

"You mean because Voldemort’s back?"

"That’s part of it, yes. Oh Ginny, there’s so much that’s going to be happening in the next few years. I wish I could stay with you through all of it, but I – I can’t. The most I can do is help you prepare for what lies ahead."

"You make it sound oh, I don’t know, like a trial or something."

"So it will be, a sort of trial," said Mira sadly. "There will be days, days that will make you wish that you were never born and others . . ." she smiled, a truly beatific smile that lit up her features from the inside. "There will be others that you wish will never end."

"The carrot and the stick, eh?"

"With chocolate cake at the end," said Mira, dropping Ginny a broad wink. "So don’t despair love, this too shall pass. In fact," she said with a devious grin. "By Christmas time of next year, you’re going to look back on this entire Cho fiasco with a fond nostalgia."

"You think?" said Ginny, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"No, Ginny, I know."

* * *