Sally-Anne Perks was really glad that she'd been invited to Ginny Weasley's eleventh birthday party, and not just because it was a day away from the mad house that she lived in. A couple new girls had recently arrived, and they were not fitting in, probably because of some issues that Sally-Anne knew of but would never repeat.
When your parents were foster parents, you learnt that there were some things you should never repeat about the new girls. She just made sure that Ellory and Dorine got choice seats when came time to relate another story about Hogwarts.
No, Sally-Anne was glad she had been invited because when she was with her housemates and Ginny she didn't have any responsibilities and could just have fun. She'd swum in the pond, managed to get caught in a girls vs boys Quidditch match, which the girls had barely won, probably due to the no one who had been on a school team rule that Ginny had made on the spot, and even participated in a gnome tossing contest. The food was really good too.
She hadn't really believed Ron when he had said how good of a cook his mother was, but Mrs. Weasley could cook. Sally-Anne wasn't surprised that she could cook, having seven children, six of them hungry boys, made that a given. What she was surprised was how good it was. The chocolate cake alone was to die for.
But now it was time to go, as the sun was already disappearing behind the Devonshire hills. They'd spent way too long playing that last game of Quidditch. She'd already seen Hermione putting little Jimmy in his car seat, asleep, before crawling in beside him for the three hour drive back to Crawley. It was going to be a really long day for the Grangers and Harry Potter. Sally-Anne was flooing home, though.
"Thank you for the invitation, Ginny," Sally-Anne said. "I really enjoyed your birthday."
"I'm glad you came, especially since you managed to get Hermione and Mum up on brooms," Ginny said. "I just wished the other girls could have come."
"Yeah, I'm going to have to find out what got Parvati grounded for two weeks," Sally-Anne replied.
"I know, her mother called to apologize," Ginny said. "Apparently she's not allowed to go around kissing boys, yet, and then made a too costly call to Seamus. I didn't really understand what she meant by a fifteen pound call."
"She was on the phone that long with Seamus ... Lavender and I are really going to have some fun teasing Parvati about that," Sally-Anne said. "Too bad Lavender isn't coming back to England until the week before we go back to Hogwarts."
"Yes, she's going to miss the fun of the signing next week," Ginny said, suddenly blushing and unsure again, as soon as she completed the sentence.
"Don't worry, Ginny, most of us will be there with you, and you know all the attention is going to be on Harry anyway. What, is something wrong?"
"I never should have written to him. He doesn't want the fame, and I'm probably making it worse."
"Oh, no, I'm pretty sure that this time at least, Harry knows what he's getting into. He's rather big on jumping into the unknown. We're Gryffindors, we charge!" Sally-Anne punctuated her sentence with a jab upwards, before picking up a pinch of floo powder and putting it in the fireplace.
Ginny giggled. "See you next week."
Sally-Anne stepped into the green flames, and cried out "The Cloister!"
Parvati rubbed her temples in a vain attempt to get rid of the headache that had been caused by hours of studying on top of the totally ruined lunch that her sister-in-law had burnt to a crisp. She'd been put all off lunch, and dinner had been late, mostly because her mother had to clean up from Kaamilee's mess.
Parvati just wanted to go back to bed and pretend that the day had never happened. That wasn't happening though. Padma had just come back from the Ravenclaw party, reminding Parvati that she'd missed Ginny's party. Okay, the Ravenclaw party didn't seem like a lot of fun, but still, it had to have been better than Parvati's day with Kaamilee.
"Just don't, Pad, just don't," Parvati said. "I just spent a day trying to help Kaamilee. I've got a terrific headache, cramps, and if I hear one word about any fun today, I'm going to blow the roof off the house."
"Okay, okay, Parvati," her twin replied. "Hot showdf, warm bed, and maybe some hot chocolate?"
"Padma, you're a demigoddess."
"Son, we need to talk," Seamus's father said, sitting down next to Seamus on the couch.
"Yes, Father?" Seamus said, putting down his well worn copy of The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot. That line was never a good one.
"I understand you are getting close to Miss Patel, and as your father there are certain things I'm expected to tell you about girls," his father continued.
Seamus looked at his father with dawning horror. He sat through the next two hours as his father first discussed how to properly treat girls, from how to talk to kissing to more. The worst part was that his father was using his relationship with his mother as examples, and he had no wish to even think about his parents.
It was just the little things left for the picture he'd been painting for his sister above her bed. Some fluffy little clouds, and some happy little trees were left. He'd just finished putting the last bit of details on the hero, the little highlights that Dean knew would make the character appear real. It was too bad that this was a muggle house and he wasn't allowed to do magic in the summertime. The animating charm was so tempting to cast. He promised himself that one day he'd do it, even if he would have to hide it even from family.
The last few clouds hit the sky, then the last bit of tree branches reached out. It wasn't long at all before he found himself standing back to make sure the painting had turned out the way he wanted it to. He picked up a small brush, loaded up just a little gold paint, and carefully signed it "Dean Thomas August 13, 1992"
He then pushed his sister's bed back up against the wall, so she wouldn't fall into the ruelle again, something that Sandra had managed to do most every night since he'd started working on the painting. She never fell off the other side, just the side next to the wall. He carefully put up his paints, cleaning out his brushes before leaving for the sink in the conservatory that his mother made him use to clean his equipment after he'd stained her porcelain sink.
Only after his paint brushes had been cleaned, palette washed until it was clear again, and everything had found it's proper place in his painting box did he step back into the house. There he greeted his mother and father, in the front room. "Sandra's painting is done," he said. He was actually a bit surprised that both parents were there, as Dad had taken Sandra to her ballet class.
"Well, hopefully that will cheer your sister up," his father said. "There was an incident at ballet, and she left early."
"Why?" Dean asked as his father and mother got up, heading towards the stairs.
"We had to call the reversal squad," his mother said. "She accidentally turned the dance floor into a trampoline. Her best friend Krista ended up in the rafters. It seems we have a witch in the family as well as a wizard."
Dean was pretty sure that his sister had never done magic before. She was his half sister, so it wasn't as likely that she'd end as a witch. That being said, she hadn't been shocked when she picked up his wand like Ollivander had warned might happen. His parents stepped into Sandra's room ahead of him, to look at the painting, but Dean didn't look at the painting. Instead he looked for his sister.
She wasn't easy to find. He'd actually expected her to be laying on the bed, but she wasn't. Instead she was at the foot of her bed, in a fetal position. Dean moved to squat down beside her. His hand reached under his sister's chin, gently bringing her tear-stained face up to look at him. "What's wrong, Sandra," he asked.
"I did magic, I hurt people," Sandra said. "Krista, and Donna, and Marsha, and Rachel ... they all got hurt when I was trying to jump higher and changed the floor. Krista ended up in the rafters. Donna and Marsha knocked each other out when they collided. And ... and ... and ... Rachel broke her leg."
"And did the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad come and fix everything?" Dean asked.
Sandra nodded.
"Bet they told you that everthing would be back to normal, and no one would remember," Dean said. Sandra nodded. "Bet you don't believe that. In fact, I bet that you feel really guilty, even though it was an accident."
Sandra nodded again, before burying her head between her legs again.
"Oh no you don't," Dean said, reaching under Sandra's chin again to prevent her from looking away. "It's okay to feel guilty a little. Magic takes a bit before you learn to control it, and even with a wand, sometimes it can still surprise you a bit. In fact, I should show you the book of Seamus Finnigan's magical disasters, with the appendix of error by yours truly."
"Really?" Sandra asked.
"Yes, really, and you really should see what Hermione's pregnancy did to her magical control," Dean said. "I think I still have a copy of 'Fire the Professors' that Hermione didn't burn up. Come on, Sandra. Why don't you take a good long look at the painting I just finished and I'll go get the book of Seamus Finnigan's Eyebrows."
"Okay."
Ginny Weasley flopped down on her bed, too exhausted to do much more. This had been the best birthday ever. For once she'd been treated not like the baby sister, but like a young lady about to go off to school. She had real gifts, including a broom, that unfortunately she wouldn't be allowed to take to school, but it was her broom, not a hand me down. No one had told her that she couldn't fly it.
No one had objected to her going off to swim in her bikini, though she was sure that her Mum still had problem with the said bikini. Of course her mother had more trouble with the fact that her eldest brother had accioed her bikini, leaving Ginny to chase after him with Neville at her side. She'd been a bit embarrassed by the fact that he'd seen everything, but then again, he'd also been willing to go after her oldest brother at her side.
Ginny found the idea of someone going at her side, not taking over, not considering her incapable, to be very refreshing. For all of her life she'd been coddled, having been told she couldn't do something. She'd refused to believe it all, especially all the girls can't do what boys do stuff. Her urinary handwriting was much better than Percy's.
And now she was going to be going away to Hogwarts. After today, Ginny knew that she could spread her wings there. She wasn't going to be that little girl hiding off in the corner. She wasn't going to accept coddling from her older brothers. Ron wasn't going to be one anymore, and he certainly wasn't going to object to her planned breakfast with Neville. Both her and Neville were morning people, and Ron was not.
Ginny smiled as she reflected on Neville. It was hard to believe Ron's early impressions of Neville in his scant letters. She wasn't exactly sure what had caused the change, but Neville was to Ginny's eyes smart, brave, and outgoing. She liked Neville, and she was sure he liked her back.
Ginny turned over and reached for the diary that Bill had got her. She needed to start recording her year, and she wouldn't be writing Harry any more, so this diary would keep up what she'd started. She pulled out one of the pens that Hermione had gotten her, and started to write in dark black ink.
"I am Ginny Weasley. I'm eleven-years-old and about to start Hogwarts in twenty days. This is my diary for my first year."
"Hello Ginny."