Unplottable

4 - Ginny

"Mum, I'll be fine. Stop fussing!" With a sigh, Ginny accepted a cart from her mother. She loaded her trunk on it and put one of her most valued possessions on top of the trunk - the Shrink Box which held her drum set. She refused to put her other most valued possession on the cart, though: The best way to keep the large Shaman drum safe was to leave it strapped to her back. Molly tried to persuade Ginny to put it on the cart, too, but gave in after a very brief discussion. She is learning, Ginny thought as she broke through the barrier.

Ginny was proud to return to Hogwarts with her own drum set; she planned to put it to use this year. The Shrink Box had been Varlerta's birthday gift, sent from the States containing two perfectly acceptable cymbals, cast-offs from Aisha, the Muggle drummer. The set itself had been her parents' Christmas present; like her brothers' broomsticks it had been bought with the money Varlerta had paid for the Weasleys' Ensouled Ford Anglia.

Speaking of her brothers - without Fred and George, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters seemed empty and far too quiet. True, there was a jumble of students and parents, but, Ginny thought as she looked from Ron to Molly, there were far too few Weasleys waiting to get on the Hogwarts Express. Redheads were becoming rare at Hogwarts, Ginny contemplated. Of course, she didn't voice her thoughts aloud, knowing that her mother would acidly reply that red hair was becoming rare at Hogwarts. Molly had not yet come to accept her daughter's new hairstyle.

Ginny awkwardly hugged her mother goodbye and got into the train with her luggage, making room so Ron, Hermione and Harry could take their leave of Molly. Ron's best friends had stayed at the Burrow since the wedding; so had Harry's new shadow, the Thestral. No matter how much Molly had tried to persuade the winged horse to take his residence elsewhere, the Thestral never strayed far from Harry's side. It hadn't been sighted on platform Nine and Three Quarters yet, but that did not mean a thing, as the fantastic beast could become invisible and was likely to appear out of the blue whenever his appearance was least convenient.

Grinning to herself, Ginny got into a compartment with Rhonda Celps and the Creevey brothers. In former years, she had been proud to be admitted into the compartment of Harry, Ron and Hermione, but now she decided she had seen plenty of the three in the last few weeks. Rhonda's friendly greeting confirmed Ginny's hope that, apart from making a fine Little Miss Tag-Along, she was perfectly capable of making friends of her own now. A victim of the ice missiles like two of Ginny's brothers, Rhonda had been at St. Mungo's for part of the holidays; Ginny had paid her two visits when she had been at the hospital to see her brothers. Obviously, Rhonda had recovered well from her injury; she seemed in the best of spirits, as if she was looking forward to the upcoming school year.

As the train left the station, Ginny briefly waved to her mother on the platform; then she joined a conversation between Rhonda and Colin Creevey concerning the Holyhead Harpies' achievements of the current Quidditch season. Rhonda clearly dreamed of joining the famous all-witches team, although she was obviously aware that so far, her Quidditch skills were not really sufficient for basing a professional career on them.

Thinking of secret ambitions, Ginny gently put a sneaker-shod foot on her Shrink Box. When the conversation came to a temporary halt, she could not restrain herself anymore. "I'm going to start my own rock band at Hogwarts this year," she told Rhonda.

All heads in the compartment turned towards her.

"Cool," a round-eyed Dennis Creevey breathed. "Who else will be in it?"

Ginny made a face: Dennis had hit the weak spot - she didn't know who to ask. Muggle music was an art pursued very rarely at the school of witchcraft and wizardry. Not too many students played any instruments whatsoever, let alone electric guitar or bass guitar. Magic-powered electric instruments were expensive and hard to come buy; most witches and wizards were content to leave rock music to the Muggles.

"Why don't you ask Julian Hengert?" Rhonda asked. "He plays electric guitar."

Ginny bit her bottom lip. How typical of the good-looking and popular Gryffindor Quidditch Chaser to suggest that Ginny should just go up to the handsome and popular sixth year Ravenclaw Quidditch Keeper and ask him to join her band. "I don't know," she mumbled without looking at Rhonda. "He is probably too busy with Quidditch to play in a band," she suggested.

Rhonda laughed. "Oh, don't be shy, Gin. Joolz is a cool bloke. Maybe he'll be overjoyed when you ask him - after all, yours will be the only band at Hogwarts!"

"Yeah, right," Ginny snorted, but when Rhonda rose and pulled her up, she followed her out of the compartment. They struggled to pass the Snack Trolley witch - she was not amused - and soon found the compartment that housed the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. (How very much like Rhonda, Ginny thought, to know which direction she had to take to find them! Ginny would have surely searched the train to the very end in one direction, only to find out that the people she was looking for were sitting two compartments down the other way.)

"Rhonda-baby, come and sit down with me!" Julian 'Joolz' Hengert opened the door of the compartment for them and offered Rhonda a seat on his armrest, which the Chaser graciously accepted. Ginny could see at once why so many girls at Hogwarts had a crush on the Ravenclaw Keeper: His well-cut face, adorned with a fine nose and a masculine chin, was framed by shoulder-length blonde dreadlocks; even when he would later exchange his leather jacket for his ordinary school-robes, when he would remove his many silver earrings and take off his silver-framed sunglasses to reveal his azure-coloured eyes, his aura, if not his hairstyle, would still give him the air of the sexy rebel.

Ginny looked around shyly, unsure whether to step through the door as Rhonda indicated. In the compartment sat the victorious, cup-winning Ravenclaw Quidditch team in all their exclusive glory - Julian Hengert, Brad Staggon, Ray Peasegood, Ragnar Lovegood, Richard Davies and Cho Chang, widely popular students who hardly ever looked at someone like Ginny. Rhonda seemed to know them all; they greeted her like an old friend. Of course, Rhonda was a Quidditch player herself, while Ginny was at best the little sister of the averagely talented Gryffindor Keeper. No one asked her in, until Rhonda said: "Joolz, I'm sure you know Ginny Weasley."

"Hey Ginny, come in and sit here." Cho Chang's friendly invitation was an encouragement, and even though she did not dare to sit on Cho's armrest as indicated, she stepped into the compartment at last.

"Hi Cho," she said, much too softly to sound casual. "Hi Julian, I'm Ginny." She could have kicked herself for being so idiotically shy.

"Joolz, you probably know that Ginny is a drummer," Rhonda said in a tone of pride which made Ginny feel wildly overrated.

"Oh, are you?" Joolz asked Ginny in reply, politely interested.

"She's going to start a band, and I thought as you played the electric guitar, maybe I should introduce you two to each other. Later, when Witch Weekly asks you how the band got together, you can always give me credit for starting it all, I figured."

Ginny felt the blood rise into her face. She would have liked to run off and hide, but felt this was not the appropriate behaviour for a future rock drummer. "You know, get a couple of students together, see if we can play a couple of songs...." she said lamely.

"A band!" Joolz' eyes rested on Rhonda; he looked truly interested now. "You actually think that Rock'n'roll has finally come to conservative old Hogwarts? Well, why not? A band would be cool." Ginny felt her heartbeat speed up; she could hardly believe that Joolz would even consider playing with her.

"So say, Rhonda-baby, what will you be doing in the band? Will you sing?" Joolz gave the Gryffindor Chaser a pointedly flirty look.

Rhonda and Ginny exchanged horrified glances. Ginny knew that Rhonda could not sing for two knuts' worth, and inferred from the look on Rhonda's face that the Chaser was aware of this. On the other hand, Joolz was probably the only guitarist of the school, and he did seem interested to have Rhonda in the band.

"No, Rhonda said she would try the bass guitar," Ginny said and nudged Rhonda with her foot.

"Oh, you play the bass guitar, Rhonda?" Joolz looked impressed. "I didn't even know that. Well, the line-up of our band is settled, then, I suppose."

"Well, I just started, so I suppose I'm not very good yet," Rhonda murmured modestly. She gave Ginny a look which plainly said something in the lines of: 'Are you mental? I don't even know how a bass guitar differs from a non-bass guitar, let alone ever touched one!'

"A Ravenclaw-Gryffindor rock band, how lovely," Cho Chang commented delighted. "You could play at common room parties and school parties and the like before you make your way into international stardom. The two of you will have loads of male groupies, I suppose." The last remark was directed at Rhonda and Ginny, who giggled obligingly.

"How are you, Cho?" Ginny asked. "Did you recover well from your injury?" She knew that Cho had been at St. Mungo's together with Fred and Ron, but had only ran into her very briefly there.

"Thank you, I'm much better." Cho smiled and moved her right arm, probably to show that she had full use of it again. "After a couple of potions and a bit of physical therapy, I'm all set for the new Quidditch season," she said proudly.

"No black Wasp stripes for you this year, Cho?" Ragnar Lovegood asked her with a mean gleam in his eyes.

"Stop slandering me, Ragnar." Cho slapped him on the arm, purposefully missing his face by hardly an inch. To Ginny and Rhonda, she said: "He is trying to make everyone believe I was taking Hawk Potion last year when we won the final, which of course I wasn't, and never will." She turned to Lovegood: "Can't see why you are spreading this rumour. You know it isn't true, and it isn't doing our team any good if people believe I am taking illegal substances."

Seeing Ginny's bewildered look, Rhonda explained: "Hawk Potion is supposed to sharpen your eyes, to make you a better flyer et cetera, but of course it's forbidden in Quidditch matches. The year before last, a few players of the Wimbourne Wasps were involved in a Hawk Potion scandal, and the Potion itself is pitch black - that's why they call it 'the Wasps' black stripes.' I think we will learn how to make it in Potions this year, if the old fart hasn't changed the curriculum, but of course no one in a Hogwarts Quidditch team would take this stuff illegally."

The 'old fart' was Snape, Ginny supposed. She reminded herself that she was in the compartment of the cool rebels, so she nodded vigorously, although she did not agree wholeheartedly. It wasn't as if she liked Snape - blimey, nobody liked Snape. However, in the course of the last year she had learned a few things about him which led her to partially understand him: Probably there are some things you can't share without developing at least a little respect for each other, and for her, fighting about a dozen bloodthirsty Death Eaters was one of them.

The rest of the train ride went by much faster than usual. Hanging out with the Ravenclaw Quidditch team turned out to be a lot of fun. At first Ginny was taken aback by the way all of them, or at least the males, were so very self-assured. However, if Ginny, Rhonda and Joolz were to form Hogwarts' coolest and most celebrated rock band (well, Hogwarts' only rock band!), maybe Ginny would in time become as cool, perhaps even as popular as the Ravenclaw Quidditch players, she began to hope. The mere idea made her slightly dizzy. When Cho inquired about the health of Ginny and her brothers at length, when the other students listened to her with interest, when all of the Ravenclaw team painted the lives of Hogwarts' rock-stars-to-be in the most vivid colours, Ginny felt happiness take hold of her. As the train rolled into Hogwarts station and Rhonda and she returned to their own compartment to retrieve their luggage, Ginny hummed to herself: "...and I-I had the feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it was time to get into one of the horseless carriages at Hogwarts station, Ginny looked around for Rhonda and for her new friends, but as she couldn't spot them, she followed Hermione, Ron and Harry into one of the vehicles. The three were in the middle of a discussion - or rather, Hermione was doing most of the talking. Since the wedding, Ginny found the older girl edgy and tense; something was different about her - or was she maybe just growing up?

"And then there are all the protests against DDLL - you know, many people believe that by putting further emphasis on pure-bloodedness, they are smoothing the way for re-establishing laws which put Muggle-born witches and wizards at disadvantage," Hermione said with feeling as she let herself fall onto the carriage's front bench.

"Don't get all upset, Hermione, we know that the world is an evil place," Ron said in a rather patronising voice as he sat down opposite to her. "Just relax and enjoy life. Tomorrow, You-Know-Who will come and ruin the world for all of us, so why spoil today with worrying about something as trivial as the DDLL?" He stretched excessively, accidentally knocking off Harry's glasses with one of his long, dangly arms.

As the daughter of a Ministry official, Ginny knew what the DDLL was, of course. If anyone ever wanted to see Arthur Weasley in one of his foulest moods, all that had to be done was mention these innocent four letters, which stood for the office next to his within the Ministry building: Department for the Discovery of Lost Lines. When he had visited his children at St. Mungo's, Arthur had explained to Ron and Ginny why the mere existence of the institution offended him so much:

"You probably know that a long time ago, Muggles and wizards were kept strictly separate. Intermarriage was strongly discouraged, if not forbidden. Muggle-born witches and wizards were seen as a great problem; usually they were -" Arthur had given his children a searching look to find out whether they were old and well enough to know the truth. "The old wizard families wanted to keep their magical powers to themselves, so Muggle-born magical children were often killed," he had finally said in a very sad voice.

"Another flaw in the system," he had continued, "were the squibs. If an old wizard family had a child without magical powers, it was considered a stain on the family honour. The birth of a squib was usually hushed over, and the child was given away to Muggle foster parents rather than killed.

"Later, when many witch and wizard families were practically wiped out by hereditary diseases, intermarriage regulations were lifted, and Muggle-born witches and wizards were left alive because they had become desirable spouses. However, old wizard families who weren't affected by those problems often prided themselves of remaining completely pure-blooded. Also, there is a rumour - mind you, I say a rumour, because these things have never been scientifically proved - that the squib children raised as Muggles carried magical genes, and therefore are the ancestors of the Muggle-born witches and wizards. Of course, this is very difficult to prove, because the old families usually avoided keeping any kind of record about their cast-off squib children, and the Muggles didn't know better. That's why the Clearwaters had such difficulties getting Penelope's and Percy's wedding accepted at Anglesey: They had to find documents proving that Penelope's grandmother was not, as believed, a Muggle, but a pure-blooded Parkinson squib. That's the kind of document the DDLL tries to find for you, provided you're willing to pay for it." Ginny remembered the contempt in her father's voice; he held the strong belief that these things should not matter so much to anyone, and that it was highly suspicious if they did.

Ginny believed the same, and so did Ron, but she knew that for Hermione it was another matter. Hermione was not only directly affected by these things; she was also - well, political. While Ron was making fun of Hermione by suggesting she should start a house-elves riot within the DDLL office, Ginny looked out of the window into the rainy Hogwarts grounds. Another school year was starting for her, and she was glad to go to a place where Ministry politics were at least not in the centre of interest. Thinking of the band she was going to start, she smiled at her dim reflection in the window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ginny, there you are! I searched the whole train for you, but I couldn't find you in any of the Gryffindor compartments! How are you? Are you well again?" She had hardly set a foot out of the carriage when Neville's voice greeted her. Her fellow audio magic apprentice seemed to have grown over the summer, but his face was as round as ever. He had sent her a few owls to hospital and one to the Burrow; Ginny tried to recall whether she had answered them all, but if she hadn't, Neville did not appear to bear a grudge.

"Thanks, I'm much better. Did you enjoy your holidays?" Together they walked into Hogwarts' Entrance Hall. Neville told her that he had taken flute lessons over the holiday, after his grandmother had only grudgingly allowed him to visit the old Muggle teacher in her home. Ginny was tempted to tell him about her band plans, but then decided to keep them to herself for another while.

"Look, there's Professor Varlerta! She's back then, like she said she was," Neville said happily when they entered the Great Hall; then he added with pride: "She wrote me during the holidays, you know - she sent a postcard from Seattle, saying she hoped I was enjoying my flute lessons. You should have seen the postman. He was scared out of his wits because he had to come up to our house. Apparently, he hasn't had any letters to deliver since great-uncle Algie bounced him across the grounds about ten years ago."

Ginny nodded; Professor Varlerta had written to her, too, asking whether she was recovering well from the pneumonia she had caught at the end of the last school year, and for Ginny's birthday she had sent the Shrink Box. Ginny was glad to see that for once, a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had managed to return to Hogwarts for a second year of teaching. As her audio magic apprentice, she did not consider Varlerta just one among many teachers; rather Varlerta was Ginny's and Neville's mentor, maybe even their friend. What's more, the two audio magic apprentices had helped save the teacher's life last spring, which should certainly account for something. When she caught her teacher's eye, saw her wave and waved back, Ginny thought that Varlerta surely wasn't sending away birthday presents to all her other students.

Arriving at their house tables only slightly wet, the Hogwarts students sat down under a ceiling grey with clouds and awaited the Sorting of the first years. To Ginny, the new students looked incredibly young; their round eyes suggested fear and apprehension. She eagerly awaited the Sorting Hat Song, as the old hat was one of the most musical things at Hogwarts and had a beautiful basso voice. Suddenly she wondered by which magic the hat was able not only to find and rhyme the words for a new song each year, but also to compose a new tune to go with it. Was there a spell that could make a thing a composer - and if so, how had Godric Gryffindor found it? While the old Sorting Hat was brought in and placed on its stool, Ginny mused whether Gryffindor, the founder, had been a musician himself. Then she turned her attention to the hat, which opened its felt mouth and sang a rather lively, but somehow also sombre folksong-like melody in twelve-eight time:

In times remote and ancient,
When we still lived in clans,
Young wizards and young witches learned
Their elders' skills by chance.

The lands were bare and empty
No halls of learning stood
On these deserted moors, until
The Founders said they should.

They built up Hogwarts Castle
Most magical of schools,
Then thought up a curriculum
To bind their powers in rules.

But when they started teaching,
They found they disagreed
On magic's nature and its aim,
On Hogwarts' magic creed.

So by the by, they wondered
Which spells and charms to teach:
"What's magic, and which powers," they asked,
"Should be within our reach?"

Sweet Hufflepuff just chuckled:
"'tis strange that you should ask,
I've known since first I raised my wand
That magic is a task."

But Gryffindor, the warrior
Said: "Magic is a blade;
To fight all evil is the truest
Magical crusade."

Wise Ravenclaw retorted:
"No, Magic is a lore,
Is learning and is knowledge
With power in its core."

Coy Slytherin did not agree:
"True magic is a tool,
To shape the world, the people, too,
To bend them to your rule."

The founders talked and argued
All day, and through the night,
Until they found that magic's aim
Was not theirs to decide,

Because their magic students
Would put their powers to use
In their own ways: The aim of them
Is each of yours to choose.

The artisan, the scholar
Both have a task to do;
Adventurers and strategists,
Our time needs all of you.

My task is now to sort you
According to your strength.
It's up to you to find your powers,
To find yourselves at length.

At all four house tables, the students of Hogwarts cheered. Ginny wondered if anybody had ever thought of writing down the words and tunes the Sorting Hat sang, if there was a Sorting Hat Song archive. While the Sorting began, she also pondered the words of the song. As a Gryffindor, she was supposed to use magic as a weapon. This seemed to fit someone like Harry, who had taken on a Basilisk single-handedly, or someone like Hermione, who was always ready to fight if she believed something in the world was not fair. Even Neville seemed more of a warrior than she; Ginny remembered how he had made her fight the Icy Fingers curse with him at the end of the last school year, how he had fought the Death Eaters with his flute magic. Ginny on the other hand wondered what she would find if she found her own 'true powers' one day - wasn't it rather that she would be a rock drummer, not a warrior? She knew she would fight at need, but she wasn't at all sure that this was what she wanted to do with her magical powers. Maybe she was only a Gryffindor because after six Weasley children, the hat hadn't given her much thought; it had told her where it would put her as soon as it had touched her ears. Of course, there wasn't a separate Hogwarts house for musicians, Ginny mused as she watched the Sorting. Then again, there hardly seemed to be even a separate house for the Slytherins anymore; like last year, the number of new students sorted into this house had drastically declined.

After the last of the small- and fragile-looking first years had taken a place at Gryffindor table, Dumbledore rose to address the school. A murmur rose in the Great Hall, and Ginny raised a hand to her mouth in shock: She had known that after the ice missile attack, Dumbledore was ill, but knowing it and seeing it were two different things. The headmaster had always looked ancient to her, but now he looked - well, old, as in 'close to death.' The skin on his face fell into a million of papery wrinkles; his hands looked almost transparent. Ginny had the impression that standing up was an effort for him now. Snape, seated at Dumbledore's side again, had risen with him, apparently ready to catch the headmaster should he falter. His eyes, no, all eyes behind the staff table except Dumbledore's, were dark with worries.

"My dear students of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said in a voice that was still able to fill the whole Hall with its melodious resonance, "I am infinitely glad to see you all here. As you know, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is not only an institute of learning, but has also been a sanctuary for those who have to fear the ever-grasping hand of Lord Voldemort. For many years now, Hogwarts has been a safe place. After the attack on the school before the holidays, we all wondered whether this still is the case. Many of you were hurt, although luckily, no one was killed. I am eternally grateful for that, but I cannot keep from you that we are living in dark and dangerous times.

"Lord Voldemort and his followers have attacked Hogwarts, hoping to eliminate his enemies and to scare you all into serving him. We, the staff of Hogwarts, in fact, all of the magic community still opposing the Dark Side, we all make it our utmost priority to protect you, as you are our treasure, our hope and our future.

"As much as I want to tell you that you are absolutely safe, either here or anywhere else, I cannot do that, because that would mean to deceive you. However, spending our time in fear is what Voldemort wants us to do. He wants the brave to cower in hiding, and the loyal to betray their friends; he wants us to shy away from our obligations to each other; he wants to destroy our strength, our unity. That must never happen. I therefore implore you to mind the danger, but to keep your fears in check. We have to use all peaceful moments to equip you with your best defence - a sound magical education. Take your studies seriously - what you learn tomorrow might just be the thing you will need at the end of the week.

"Our Spellsearchers have made great progress in learning to fight the evil Icy Fingers curse, and just now stand on guard to protect this feast from another attack of ice missiles. The enemy's next weapon we do not know, but we will do our best to teach you how to defend yourself and your friends against all curses known in the magical world.

"Alas, I wish that curses were Voldemort's most deadly weapon - be assured that this is not the case. More deadly to us than the Icy Fingers curse is treachery amongst ourselves. Therefore, most importantly, I implore you all: Be loyal to yourself, be loyal to those dear to you. If you feel threatened, blackmailed or bribed by anything or anybody, talk to your teachers or your parents; they are asked to take you seriously. If anybody asks you to spy, to betray us, to work for the Dark Side, think of the loss for all of us, not of any short-lived gains for yourself. I and those who follow me do not have to offer what Voldemort may offer you - riches, hidden powers or forbidden pleasures. However, keep in mind that it is not in Voldemort's power to give you what we have to offer you: True friendship, loyalty, a clear conscience and the honour of caring for those you love."

After Dumbledore had spoken the last words, the Great Hall fell into absolute silence for a few seconds. Ginny could see Snape and Professor McGonagall support Dumbledore below his elbows, ready to steady him if a sudden weakness took hold of him. More than his speech, the headmaster's weakness had poured a bucketful of fear into Ginny's heart; her fellow students seemed to feel the same.

Suddenly Harry rose from his chair. "The Gryffindors will never serve Lord Voldemort!" he shouted with a firm adult voice which Ginny had not noticed before.

For a moment, nobody reacted; Ginny could see Harry become beet red. He must believe he said something stupid, she realised and felt a sudden urge to prove this belief wrong. She stood up quickly; next to her, Ron's chair toppled backwards, while Hermione's was neatly pushed aside. "The Gryffindors will never serve Lord Voldemort!" Ginny repeated as loudly as she could; the magical Shaman Drum strapped over the back of her chair responded with a low vibration.

"The Gryffindors will never serve Lord Voldemort!" Now more than sixty voices shouted this spontaneous pledge; all Gryffindor students were on their feet now, the first years at least as eager as the older students.

"The Hufflepuffs will never serve Lord Voldemort!" Ginny saw the Hufflepuff table rise as one; they appeared just as determined as the Gryffindors.

"The Ravenclaws will never serve Lord Voldemort!" Cho and Padma Patil, both victims of ice missiles, had been waiting for their housemates to rise. When Joolz Hengert jumped onto his chair, his fist raised in the pose of a hero, Ginny felt a jolt in her stomach. She wondered if all of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team had joined in the shout, or if, say, Richard Davies hadn't, but all in all, the Ravenclaw table seemed almost as united as the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"The Slytherins will never serve Lord Voldemort!" Diminished as the house of Slytherin was, it was clearly audible that most of them had accepted the challenge, and had proclaimed loyalty to Dumbledore rather than the Dark Side.

Ginny looked back to the High Table. Professor McGonagall's eyes were brimming with tears; Dumbledore was visibly leaning on her arm. Flitwick was beaming, Sprout was wiping her eyes, and Hagrid was blowing his nose into an oversized handkerchief. Professor Varlerta's face was lit by a luminous smile; she carefully tucked at Snape's sleeve. For the fraction of a second, the two teachers exchanged a glance, but then Snape tore his sleeve out of Varlerta's fingers and turned his face the other way. Somewhere back at the Slytherin table, two students started talking in low voices. Ginny felt herself exhale deeply. The moment had passed, but she was sure she would never forget it.

Dumbledore raised his hand again; he looked far happier than at the beginning of his speech. "My dear students, I am touched by your pledge of loyalty. May your deeds always match your words!" He hesitated a moment, then continued in a more sombre voice. "Do not betray the trust I put in you by telling you that on the east end of the Hogwarts grounds, you will probably not find a League refugee camp. I say 'not find,' because special spells have been put up to keep the refugees and the students of this school separated. If you do not know the way through the magic passage, you will not see or hear anything of the camp. The refugees are members of the secret organisation called 'League,' which opposes Lord Voldemort; as they are pursued by the Death Eaters, they need all the protection we can give them. However, although I have consented to protect their lives, I strongly discourage all Hogwarts students to attempt communication with the refugees, as some of their political activities are nothing of which I or any of your teachers approve."

Ginny found this news slightly disconcerting. Recalling the order meetings she had attended during the last school year, she guessed that Dumbledore had been far from happy to accept activists of the occasionally violent League as refugees on the school ground. She wondered why he had told the students about the existence of the camp, but decided that if students somehow found their way into the hidden League camp by accident without being warned, an awkward situation might arise.

When the golden dishes and goblets filled themselves with food, all of it first-class Hogwarts quality as usual, Ginny happily filled her plate. She knew there was plenty of cause to worry, but agreed with Dumbledore: A school full of terrified students waiting for the end to come, that was exactly what Voldemort wanted. Yes, Voldemort: In spite of all her parents taught her, like her fellow students, she was becoming more and more accustomed to call the evil wizard by his name, to acknowledge the shadow he was throwing on the times they were living in. It might not be the best of times to fulfil herself a dream and start a band; but then, trying to live her life the way she wanted to, in spite of all the troubles of the world, seemed one among many ways to defy the Dark Side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny's first day of lessons went by much as expected. Potions would never be her favourite subject, but somehow Snape seemed subdued on that first day; either the hatred he bestowed on any member of the Weasley family had worn off over the time, or he was too troubled to be more than averagely mean to her and the rest of the Gryffindor fifth years. Transfiguration still wasn't any special talent of Ginny either, but at least she wasn't completely hopeless, while her training with Varlerta had improved her charms skills considerably.

Professor Varlerta had asked her apprentices to meet her briefly after classes to agree on a time-table for the upcoming year. As the classes Ginny and Neville had given up to become audio magic apprentices did not always take place at the same time this year, this proved to be a little difficult, but in the end, they found a way to meet three times a week for their practice sessions. Varlerta also announced that she expected Ginny to help her train her year-mates in Strengthening this year, as she was well ahead of them because of her work with Varlerta. Ginny wasn't sure whether she was happy with such duties; being singled out had not always contributed to her popularity in Gryffindor tower. However, she saw that Varlerta had a point, and was mollified when the teacher announced that successful teaching activities would count for a OWL-credit in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Ginny thanked Varlerta for the Shrink Box and told her about her band plans. The witch beamed at her. "I was hoping you'd do that," she told her. "I talked to Dumbledore about a potential band room, and he said there was an unused classroom in the school's west wing. I checked it out, and I'm afraid it's got horrible acoustics, but for a start it will have to do. There's a spare bass amplifier and a guitar amplifier you can use, and maybe Roary will ship me a small used PA later. You've got your own drum kit, so I suppose you're all set."

"That's really great, thank you," Ginny replied. "Er... do you maybe happen to have an old bass guitar which Rhonda might use?" Over breakfast, she had tried to talk the Gryffindor Chaser into fulfilling a promise which Rhonda had never really given, namely learning to play bass guitar to join Ginny's band. The girl's reaction had not exactly been enthusiastic, but Ginny had elaborated on how much Joolz Hengert would like Rhonda to come, hoping that this was her best means of persuasion. In the end, Rhonda had taken back her downright refusal and promised to think about it.

"Morgana's rear end, what else do you want?" Varlerta looked like she had maybe expected a little more gratitude on Ginny's part rather than hearing just another request, but Ginny knew from experience that the teacher would be a good sport about it.

"Hm, maybe you could show Rhonda a few things on the bass, you know, get her started?" Ginny replied softly, her eyes firmly on the floor.

Varlerta only snorted in reply, but did not explicitly say she would do no such thing, which Ginny took to be a good sign. It was time to get the band started.

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