The Missing Link

CHAPTER ONE

Ginny lay awake in her bed at the Burrow and stared at the clock on her bedside table, willing its hand to move from "Too early" to "Time to get up". In just a few short hours she would be back on the Hogwarts Express, steaming towards a new year at school. Who knew what would happen before she was next under this roof? She was a Fifth Year now; not a prefect - a fact Fred and George were very proud of - but still, finally, a person of some importance. She would sit her O.W.L.s this summer (her stomach tightened with nerves already at the thought) and any decisions she made from now on would probably affect the rest of her life.

Ginny knew she had changed a lot over the summer. After the events of her first year at school she had always been a little more serious and introverted than the other girls her age that she knew, but even towards the end of her fourth year she had still been to all intents and purposes a child, both physically and in her black-and-white attitude to the world around her and the people she met. Now, as she swung her legs out of bed and padded over to the mirror to begin getting ready, a very different person to that girl approached her from the other side of the glass.

She had grown a few inches, and filled out, losing the half-starved, scarecrow look of a silly little girl scared of her own shadow. Her mother had finally allowed her to cut her hair (and was probably still crying over the pieces she had scooped up off the floor after Ginny had done it, she thought wryly), so that instead of the tangled mass of hair weighing her down and half-drowning her, Ginny had a style that, though still long, was more manageable; a style she felt almost proud of. It emphasised the new colour in Ginny's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. She no longer felt as though she was the after-thought in a long line of boys, walking one step behind them, and always in their shadows.

Who knew, she thought, as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, smoothing her hair into a ponytail, maybe one day they would be walking in her shadow? Maybe some of the other people at school might notice her existence too. Perhaps by the time she returned home for Christmas she would have had her first boyfriend; her first kiss? She grinned to herself, blushing a little even though she hadn't spoken out loud, and headed downstairs.

Although Ginny had thought it was still very early, it had obviously taken her longer to get ready than she thought, because Ron, Harry and Hermione were already sitting round the kitchen table with Mrs Weasley fussing over them. Harry, looking up when the door opened, and beginning to quickly clear a space for her at the table, put his elbow in the butter by accident. He blushed a little, and Ginny said nothing, smiling to herself as she remembered a time a few years ago when she had done exactly the same thing.

Taking her seat and helping herself to toast and jam, Ginny answered her mother's machine-gunned questions on autopilot. Yes, she was packed; yes, her trunk was locked; yes, it had her name on it clearly; yes, she knew where her wand was... Ginny mentally rolled her eyes; Honestly, how old does she think I am? Sometimes I think Ron's right, and she's stuck in some parallel universe where I'm five forever!

Soon Fred and George burst into the room, half dressed and running late as usual. They had been pushed into re-taking their final year by their mother, and by the time they had eaten, finished their haphazard packing and dressed themselves, they were all very close to being very late indeed.

After the customary mad dash to get to Platform 9 and ¾ on time, Ginny clambered onto the train with the others and found an empty compartment, before leaning out of the window and waving back at her mother as they pulled out of the station.

As soon as their mother was out of sight, Fred and George got up and left, muttering something about wanting to see Lee Jordan who, along with several members of the Quidditch team, had returned for one last year with the Weasley twins. Ginny was watching closely however, and saw Fred flash a package with something that looked suspiciously like the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes logo on it at Harry as they left.

Ginny had a sudden flash of comprehension. She hadn't been able to understand how her mother had managed to persuade the twins to give up their already successful business to return to school for one last year; now she realised that Mrs. Weasley hadn't done anything of the sort. They had simply gone underground again. Ginny guessed that if she were to go down that little side street in Diagon Alley where Fred and George had held their premises, she would find the shop still there, just without its usual pair of co-hosts.

They'd better just hope Mum doesn't go down there, she thought to herself, smiling a little, as she settled back to watch the countryside flash by. She felt no urge to go and find the other girls in her year. They would probably all be sitting together in one of the compartments, comparing their summers, laughing and giggling. Somehow, though, no matter how hard they tried to include her, Ginny always felt a little apart from them all. If she wanted people to talk to, she generally hung around with "the Trio", as the younger students referred to Harry, Hermione and Ron. Of course, she mused, they were the Trio, not the Quartet, so she was never really part of whatever they were doing either - on the periphery certainly, but rarely in the thick of it, though after the events in the Department of Mysteries she felt closer to them than she had ever felt before.

Even so, they had been doing things like that ever since their first year, Ginny reminded herself, while she had still been living at the Burrow, firmly ensconced under Mrs. Weasley's wing, and this made Ginny feel hopelessly inexperienced compared to them. She still had nightmares about what had happened last summer, with terrible images of the alternate ending where the Death Eaters had won and they had all died, one by one. She had screamed herself awake on several occasions, before the gruesome finale, but on the others, she had been forced to watch it all, and had woken drenched in an icy sweat, silent and alone. The Trio had probably learnt to harden themselves against all that horror, but Ginny wasn't sure if she ever could. However much older she felt compared to the rest of her year, she still felt like a child compared to them.

She wasn't left to dwell on this thought for long though; Harry soon drew her into Ron, Hermione and his conversation and she laughed and chattered along with them, until, very quickly it seemed, they were donning their robes and disembarking.

Further down the train, Draco Malfoy coughed ostentatiously and waited for Crabbe and Goyle to move out of the way with his bags so that he could leave the train. He'd managed to give Pansy Parkinson the slip, but she had begun re-enacting her leech impression already. God, but he was getting very irritated by her! All summer, every other day, her bloody owl, with a pretty pink bow around its neck, (once she'd even charmed it so its feathers were patterned with hearts, though it hadn't looked any more impressed by this idea than Draco had been), had come winging its way to the Manor with another disgustingly soppy letter full of Pansy's non-doings. Honestly, Draco thought bitterly, it was no wonder she wrote so many of the damn things; she seemed to have nothing else to do! And everyone he met was so quick to congratulate him on such an excellent match - his father must be so proud! As if his father, a Malfoy, one of the last of the great wizarding families, would be grateful for his only son to be involved with a 'new' family like the Parkinsons. Sure, they were pureblood, which counted for something, but try and point out a Parkinson in the Domesday Book and what did you get? Peasants!

Draco stood for a moment on the step of the carriage and looked out over the crowd of Hogwarts students milling about on the platform. Two more years, he thought, two more years and I can escape this place. No more forced association with people so far beneath me it becomes an insult that I have to eat in the same room as them. I'll be free, rich, licensed and powerful. What more could I want?

Among the throng one witch, despite the drizzle dampening most people's spirits, suddenly threw back her head and laughed aloud, causing her hood to fall down to her shoulders. Her hair was a bright gleaming red; not orange but almost scarlet, it shone like a beacon among the black mass of the other students' robes. Her face too, while not conventionally beautiful, still held Draco's attention a fatal second too long.

"Draco, there you are! I bet you thought you'd lost me for a minute but don't worry, darling, Pansy's here!"

A high-pitched tinkling laugh grated on Malfoy's ears. In close competition with her personality, it was arguably her most annoying feature.

I wish I had lost her, he thought, as he turned to find Pansy with a horribly flirtatious grin on her face, staring up at him and - Oh my God, he thought, she's actually fluttering her eyelashes! Putting his back to her, he scanned the crowd again, but the girl had replaced her hood, and sunk back into the sea of black; he'd lost her.

For Hermione, the whole night seemed to pass by very quickly. One moment, the bedraggled First Years were straggling up the middle of the Great Hall to be Sorted, looking so terrified Hermione's heart went out to them, even as she found herself thinking, Wimps! I'm sure we weren't that scared when we were Sorted - I mean, it's a hat, for God's sake! They can see it! Still, she sent a couple of them a friendly grin, but this seemed to make them even more nervous so she subsided in her seat.

Next thing she knew, custard was being scraped out of the bottom of bowls, and Dumbledore was rising to give his Beginning-of-the-Year speech.

"Welcome one, welcome all to a new year at Hogwarts! I just have a few words to say before we send you off to your dormitories, and I promise you that at least eight of those words are going to be of some interest to most of you!" A murmur of laughter ran round the Hall at this, stopping sharply at the Slytherin table and slinking off into the corridor outside instead.

"However, there are the usual warnings and such-like to regale you with first, so, please keep away from the Forbidden Forest - it is called that for a reason, although it seems to be more forbidden to some than to others." Dumbledore's eyes seemed to rest for a moment on the Gryffindor table where the Weasley twins and the Trio sat grinning at each other.

"Also, there have been, of course, several new items added to Mr. Filch's notorious List, so please check it before you throw your Ever-bouncing Table Tennis Balls, or whatever other wondrous thing you simply had to bring to school with you this year - the suggested punishments seem to get worse as the list gets longer! I give you fair warning." There was open laughter at this remark, and even some of the teachers couldn't help a suppressed smile or two. Professor Snape however, remained as coldly thin-lipped as ever, and Mr. Filch scowled around the Great Hall, as though willing someone to throw a Fanged Frisbee right there, under his very own bulbous nose.

"And now," continued Dumbledore, as though there had been no interruption, and in exactly the same tone of voice, "for the interesting part. At least I hope it will be interesting for you - I'm very sorry if it isn't but I do try.

"In recognition of the very dark events of recent months, and in light of the pressure many of you will feel yourselves under in the near future-" To Hermione, Dumbledore's eyes again seemed to come to rest on their group, and in particular, on Harry whose gaze was fixed on the tabletop below him, "-we, that is to say, the other professors and I, have decided a little excitement is in order, to get the year off to a flying start. So, on Halloween night, there is to be a Ball here in the Great Hall for Fourth Years and above. Dress robes are to be worn, and there will be live music and refreshments provided." Excited chatter was heard from all four tables, along with disappointed groans from the younger students. Dumbledore held up his hands for quiet and then continued.

"Do not despair please, First, Second and Third Years; you have not been forgotten. The ball shall not begin until ten o'clock at night, to give ample time for your feast to be leisurely completed.

"I trust I did not get your hopes up unduly as regards interesting words, though it took much more than eight, and since this ought to provide such a good opportunity for sitting up till all hours of the morning, I bid you good night now. Off you go!"

Hermione, Ron and Harry left the Great Hall quickly, anxious to get to the common room ahead of the rest and grab their favourite seats beside the fire. As prefects, Ron and Hermione knew the password, and as it was now up to the new Fifth Year prefects to guide the First Years to the Fat Lady's portrait, "For which," Ron had said earlier, breathing a hefty sigh of relief, "I am very thankful!", they were free to do as they wished.

They soon left the other students far behind them, and slowed to a leisurely stroll, taking notice of which suits of armour had swapped places in their absence, and greeting some of their favourite paintings as they passed.

"So," began Hermione, as they rounded the last corner before they reached the portrait hole, "what do you two make of the Ball then?"

Ron shrugged. "Should be alright, I guess, as long as they don't force us to dance." Harry, remembering the Yule Ball two years ago, nodded his head vehemently in agreement with this.

"Who do you think you'll take?" asked Hermione, with deceptive sweetness, looking straight at Ron. Harry suppressed a grin.

Ron's ears turned red, and he quickly turned his back on Hermione and said, "Phoenix feathers."

As the Fat Lady swung forward to admit them with a cheery, "Hello again, dearies!" He looked back over his shoulder and said, "I haven't really thought about it yet, to be honest, no idea!"

Hermione scowled at Ron's back as he clambered through into the common room, then followed him inside. Harry swallowed down his laughter before joining them.

When they were all settled by the fire, Hermione continued the conversation, fixing Harry with a glare so that he knew his shaking shoulders hadn't been entirely missed and that now, he was going to pay for it.

"How about you, Harry? Who'll you ask?" she asked, falsely sweet.

Harry choked, but before he could answer, Ron butted in.

"Hmmm, let's think shall we? Who has he been obsessing about for the last three years? I think he'll ask Cho, Hermione!"

Hermione laughed, and remained looking questioningly at Harry with her eyebrows raised and the shadow of a smug smile hovering around her lips. Harry felt himself flush a little and scowled at Hermione, who simply smiled sweetly back. He felt a little shell-shocked; he thought he'd concealed it so cleverly, he couldn't believe Hermione knew.

He cleared his throat and said,

"Erm, actually, Ron, I don't think I will be asking Cho."

Ron sat up in his chair. "Really, then who?"

Hermione laughed again. "Oh, Ron - you really don't know?"

"Hermione," said Harry, through clenched teeth, "shut up!"

She sat back in her chair, trying to look affronted, but her eyes were dancing. Ron looked curiously from one to the other.

"What? Who? I want to know!"

Harry was feeling more and more agitated - he couldn't tell Ron, he just couldn't - when, the picture swung open once more, and with a signal to the others to drop the discussion, and a silent prayer of thanks, Harry turned to look at who was coming in.

Ginny tried not to feel upset when Harry, Ron and Hermione just leapt up from their seats and all but ran from the Great Hall leaving her behind with Fred and George. See, she told herself, as she moved to join the crush of people forming around the doors, you're not one of them. They're the Trio, and you're not part of that. The best you can hope for is the Trio plus one, and do you really want that? You're supposed to be stepping out from the shadows, not moving even deeper into them!

Still, she had hoped that after the Department of Mysteries, there would be more of a bond between them and her. If truth be told all it had done was strengthen the bond between the three of them; the wall that kept her, and the rest of the world, out. That was the problem, she realised; even to her, and no matter what she did, it would always be them and her; never us. She thought back to all those years when she had fancied Harry; had wanted him all to herself. Now, even to want a part of him was too much to ask. There were too many people all vying for his attention: Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, her parents and the other members of the Order, You-know-Who (she still couldn't say his name, even in her mind, though she was trying to train herself to, because they did). Even Sirius and Harry's parents, although they were dead, were in the fight too, though in their cases they had already won. What chance did she have against all of them, even if she only wanted Harry's friendship? She sighed, and began to try to push her way through the thinning crowd to the corridor ahead.

Draco watched the girl as she stood at the back of a throng of people trying to force their way through the double doors. He was still sitting at the Slytherin table; Malfoys didn't demean themselves by standing in a queue, never mind at the back of one. Besides, if he was really so desperate to get back to the common room, he would have Crabbe and Goyle or some of his other henchmen force him a passage through.

He hadn't managed to see what table the girl had been sitting at. Obviously it wasn't Slytherin, and he hoped against hope it was Ravenclaw. She couldn't be in Hufflepuff, she just couldn't! But if she was... she'd be dull and boring and stupid - no, she couldn't be a Hufflepuff!

It would be worse if she was in Gryffindor though - please, God, he begged, please, let her not be in Gryffindor. Let her be a Ravenclaw. A nice, interesting, pure-blooded Ravenclaw who might have ended up in Slytherin if she was a little less bright.

It was strange that he had never noticed her before. Clearly, she wasn't a First Year - he had known that even before he had watched the Sorting, and she hadn't been in it - so why had he never noticed her? Maybe Pansy's stupid poofy hair had always been in the way!

That girl was a menace! She had done nothing but pester him all through the meal, and what with fending her off, and greeting some of the sons of his father's acquaintances at the table (not friends; being friends only brought you down to their level, said Draco's father, and Malfoys are on nobody's level) he hadn't had chance to look for her until now.

He leant back in his seat slightly to get a look at her face, and was surprised. He had expected her to be chatting excitedly to someone unseen on the other side of her, but she was alone, and looked lonely, and sad. He thought he had never seen a face so expressive in its anguish before - well, perhaps anguish was a bit strong, but certainly deep unhappiness. He almost felt as though he couldn't bear to see it; she touched some chord buried deep inside him that he didn't know he had.

The crowd was thinning now, so Draco deigned to rise and move towards the doors, with Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him. As he continued to observe her, he saw her shoulders heave as she uttered a massive sigh, and then she began to push through the stragglers in front of her. Malfoy quickened his pace; he wanted to see the house badge on her chest before she disappeared, but just as he got close enough, another girl moved into his line of vision, and called out, "Ginny!"

Draco stared, disbelieving, as his girl - already, she was his girl - turned and smiled a warm welcome, before she walked away with the new arrival, chattering nine to the dozen.

Ginny, he thought despairingly as he watched them leave. She's a Weasley!

Ginny wasn't the only girl to watch heavy-hearted as Harry left the Great Hall with his friends; on the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang sighed dramatically and flung her head onto her arms. Sitting beside her, Marietta Edgecombe cooed over her sympathetically.

"Oh, God, it's so horrible!" Cho moaned, her voice muffled by her robes. "He didn't even look at me - how can I get him to go to the Ball with me if he won't even look at me?"

Marietta frowned. After what Harry and his devious, conniving friends had done to her, she didn't understand why Cho wanted to go out with him again. It had taken her mother's connections at St Mungo's all summer to find the counter-curse for the trick Hermione had played on her! Still, Cho was the only friend she had left; the other Ravenclaws wanted nothing to do with her after she had 'betrayed' their precious DA. As though it was really that big a deal. It was all in the past anyway, why did everyone feel the need to keep dragging it up? Already, people had refused to sit next to her at the Ravenclaw table, and she could hear the hissing whispers as neighbours told the first years,

"Yeah, that's her. Sold us out to Umbridge; dirty sneak!"

She didn't really have much of a choice; Cho was the only person willing to talk to her. Even if she was annoying, and self-centred and obsessed with Harry Potter Honestly, hadn't the girl any individuality! There were plenty of nice-looking Ravenclaw boys, but no, nothing less than The Boy Who Lived would please Cho Chang! Even so, she was Marietta's only friend. If she fell out with Cho Chang, Marietta would have to leave Hogwarts.

Accordingly, Marietta pasted a concerned look onto her face, and gave Cho a swift hug, pulling her into a sitting position.

"Come on, Cho, cheer up - like he doesn't want to go to the Ball with you? He's been obsessed with you for years, he just thinks he messed it all up last term!

Show him you want to go to the Ball with him and you'll easily win him back."

Cho frowned. "Win him back? Who have I lost him to?"

"No one yet, but if you don't move quickly you will. There are hundreds of girls here who would kill to get a date with the famous Harry Potter, if you don't move fast, someone else will!"

Cho bit her lip, thinking over this advice. Then her face brightened.

"You're right," she said, and Marietta breathed a sigh of relief. "After all, it's me and Harry; Harry and Cho - what other name sounds as good with Harry's?"

Oh, I don't know, thought Marietta, vindictively, Harry and Hermione sounds quite good; Harry and Ginny too....she looked down the table and giggled internally - even Harry and Luna went together better than Harry and Cho! But she just smiled and nodded in agreement as they rose from their seats.

Luna Lovegood looked after them from her solitary seat nearby.

People may think I'm daft, she thought, turning to a new page in her copy of the Quibbler, but at least I'm not delusional! As though Harry's interested in anyone other than a particular Gryffindor.... She smiled a little sadly to herself, and began to read the next article.

Natalie linked arms with Ginny and smiled at her as they headed towards the common room.

"Where've you been all day, Gin?" she asked. "I was looking out for you on the train!"

Ginny sighed. "Oh, sorry. I was sat with my brothers. I thought there probably wouldn't be any room for me with you and the others."

Natalie laughed. "Are you mad? We saved you a seat - oh, but I can guess why you'd rather sit with your brothers! Three guesses who you want to take you to the Ball!"

Ginny gaped at the other girl, half smiling, half shocked. Pulling herself together, she raised her chin slightly, and said in a would-be cold voice, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh, please," Natalie scoffed, as they approached the portrait door. "Who have you been obsessing about for the last six years?" She pulled away from Ginny, and skipped up the corridor, singing in a falsetto voice,

"Ginny and Harry sitting in a tree

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G-"

"Natalie, shut up!" hissed Ginny, shoving her playfully. They were now right outside the door, and Ginny knew that it wasn't exactly soundproof.

"Alright, alright," replied Natalie, still laughing as she gave the password. "Just promise me I can be bridesmaid!"

They were still giggling as they clambered through the portrait hole, and Ginny looked up to find Harry watching them.

They both flushed. Oh God, thought Ginny, if he heard Nat singing I'll just die right here, I know it!

If she heard us talking, thought Harry desperately, if she heard Hermione I'll never speak to her again!

"Ginny, Nat, hi!" It was Hermione, smoothing over the awkward pause as they all looked at each other. "Are you two going up to bed, or do you want to join us? We were just discussing the Ball."

Harry watched as Nat nudged Ginny, and whispered something, gesturing towards the fireplace. Ginny shook her head viciously in reply, and said, "No, thanks, Hermione. I'm shattered. I'll see you guys in the morning."

Natalie lingered a moment or two longer, ostensibly to ask Hermione something about Muggle Studies. She noticed Harry's eyes following Ginny as she crossed the room, and climbed the stairs. Even after she had disappeared from view, his eyes remained fixed on the place where he had last seen her. It took Ron three tries to draw Harry back from wherever he had gone, and even then he didn't really seem as enthusiastic as usual when it came to dissecting the latest Chudley Cannons defeat.

Interesting, very interesting, Natalie thought later, as she lay in bed. As the other girls hadn't got back yet she and Ginny, who had beds next to each other, could talk without being overheard.

"So," she said. "You don't want to go to the Ball with Harry Potter?"

Ginny reddened, and was grateful that the darkness hid it. "Well, it's not like I'd say no if he asked me, but who would? It's just that I gave up on that particular crush a long time ago."

Natalie smiled a little. "If I were you, I wouldn't give up so easily. Didn't you see the way he was looking at you tonight? I'd say he's definitely gearing himself up to ask you something.... Just remember, I look terrible in pink!"

Ginny laughed and threw one of her pillows at Nat, who deftly caught it and threw it back.

"Night, Gin," she said, turning her back on the other girl and her denials.

"Night," Ginny replied, though her wonderings meant it was a long time before she finally drifted off to sleep.

And far down in a beautifully furnished private room, a blond haired boy scowled as he pummelled his pillow. A Weasley - she was a Weasley!