Overshadowing

The house at Grimmauld Place was empty and silent once more. Ginny stood in the street outside, staring up at it, just remembering.

This house had seen so much over the last years. It seemed like an eternity ago that she and the others had been desperate to know what went on in the Order meetings; so desperate that they had all crowded around a couple of Extendable Ears in attempts to eavesdrop. That had been a good summer, despite all the stresses - Percy, Harry, the shadows that hung over everything. They'd all been so *innocent*, and what amazed Ginny the most now was how innocent she'd been. She'd almost died at the hands of Tom Riddle, yet she'd had no concept of what war with Voldemort would really mean. It had been like a big game, especially for her, and Fred and George. Consciously or unconsciously, they'd manage to convince themselves that it wasn't really real.

As the years went on, things changed. Sirius died, and so did some of the others who'd frequented the house. Laughter became rare within those walls, and people spoke in hushed voices, even though Dumbledore and McGonagall had finally gotten rid of the portrait of old Mrs Black.

Even when the end of the war came, there was no rejoicing, just relief. Those who were left gathered in the house then, because it was the one thing they had in common with the defeat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Soon enough, the house became associated with the war and the bad memories, and people began to find excuses not to come as the lives they had put on hold had begun to return.

Ginny had the key in her pocket. It seemed odd that with all the magic spells and enchantments the house had had during the war, it should now open with a key, but it did. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, breathing in the musty smell of a dead house.

The house deserved to have happiness again - something to wipe out the pain of the war years, and the experience of being home to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. *Toujours Pur*. Not *Toujours Pur* in the least, if Ginny could help it. She had plans for this house, and Harry had agreed. He wanted only to see it put to good use again. Whether he would ever enter it again, Ginny didn't know.

This had been their refuge during the war. The Burrow had been like a dream then, a dream of happier times, and they had rarely gone there. It had been almost an unspoken agreement between the whole family, that they would not sully the memories of the Burrow with the pain of war. So it was here that wounded fighters had slept, here that they had all crowded around the table for meals, here that they had lived and come to know some of the people who would go down in history.

Now it was time to become the refuge of others. Ginny walked from room to room, planning which would be bedrooms, which common rooms. The attic would have to be made over, the rooms redecorated - but that was for the future.

This was to be a home for those children who had lost family during the war. There were a number of them in foster homes across the country, but Ginny wanted them. She wanted to give them love and friendship and the companionship she had found at Grimmauld Place and the Burrow, and to watch over them and guide them until they were ready for Hogwarts. Then she would welcome them back for the holidays.

This was not just Ginny's dream. They had all talked about it, and the idea had slowly evolved. Harry had grown up with relatives, but not happily. Katie, George's wife, had lived in foster homes until she was eight years old and her own mother was prepared to look after her. They had all seen children deprived of their families. Some might say the Weasleys had done enough for the wizarding world, but Molly Weasley had taught her children never to stand by while someone else was suffering.

Ginny went into the kitchen last of all. In all the rooms of Grimmauld Place, this was where she remembered her mother most strongly. She was lucky, in way, because she could remember her mother. These children didn't have that luxury.

She sat down at the table, remembering all the meals. She'd give those children good meals, and what was more, good memories. She'd love them as her mother had loved all the strays who had come under her own roof. Ginny had no doubt she could change these children's lives - she, and Katie, and Ron. Between the three of them they would get this off the ground, with the funding Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had promised.

Ginny closed her eyes, and imagined this house with the sound of laughter in it once more.