The Virgin Maiden

Ginny Weasley sat in the parlor of number twelve Grimmauld Place, listening to the meeting going on around her. She knew she should be excited: after all, she'd finally been allowed to join the Order of the Phoenix, having just finished school that month. Ron, Hermione, and Harry had all been official members for a year, but had been attending meetings since their last year of school. Yet she, being the youngest, had still not been allowed to join until she graduated. She knew she should be ecstatic.

But, truth be told, she was bored. After all, there wasn't much for the Order to do anymore. Voldemort had been dead for over a year: Harry had killed him in the Final Battle. Which I wasn't allowed to be in, Ginny thought bitterly. The only purpose of the Order was to try to stop Voldemort's supporters from running amok. Sure, many Death Eaters had come forward, claiming that they had been cursed, or had changed their ways. Azkaban was full of new residents, and the Dementors had returned to guard it, since Voldemort had fallen. But there were still many Death Eaters out there, hiding from the Ministry and torturing Muggles and non-purebloods (Mudbloods, they called them) in their spare time. Ginny held back a yawn as her older brother, George, talked about a group of Death Eaters that he and his twin Fred had spotted by their store one day.

"There were about five of them," George recalled to the (mostly) intent audience. "Dressed in all black, and they were wearing their Death Eater hoods."

There was much muttering in the parlor at that. Death Eaters showing off in public? Not many of them were so gutsy nowadays, and most did their dirty work in the shadows fo the night. "What did you guys do?" Tonks asked, and silence filled the room again.

This time, Fred took the reins. "We wanted to be real sneaky, right? Didn't want to draw attention to ourselves and have them get away. Luckily, it was real crowded in Diagon Alley that day. We snuck over to the side of the building that the Death Eaters were standing in front of, and hid in the shadows to listen."

More murmurs. "What did you hear?" an older witch asked. George grinned in triumph.

"Some dead useful stuff," he said. "That particular group has been meeting at Malfoy Manor." More murmurs, until Alastor Moody hushed them all and George continued. "They're planning something...an attack on some Muggle building. But we couldn't find out what, because they spotted us and Apparated."

Ginny was now a little more interested. An attack on a Muggle building? Death Eaters gathering in broad daylight, in Diagon Alley? Amid the mutterings, a voice said, "It must be a trap."

All eyes turned to Alastor Moody, and he stood up on his legs: one real, one wooden. "The Death Eaters that have managed to stay free are smart, too smart to go shouting their plans in the middle of Diagon Alley," he growled. "They're trying to trap us."

"When did they say they'd be meeting?" Remus Lupin asked.

"Well, we're not too sure," Fred said, "but we think we heard someone shout 'Monday, 8 o'clock' before they Apparated." Everyone moaned at Fred's attempt for humor.

"That settles it," an older wizard said. "We've got to send someone in there."

"That's what they want us to do!" Moody argued. At those words, an argument raged between the Order members; half wanted to send someone in, half insisting that it was a trap. But they all stopped when Ginny stood up and said, "I'll do it."

Everyone turned to her, silent. The youngest, newest member of the Order wanted to embark on a dangerous mission? What was she thinking? Finally, her father Arthur spoke up. "Ginny, honey, maybe that's not a good idea."

"Why not?" she demanded. "I've done loads of stuff before."

"Yes, but not by yourself," Hermione Granger said softly. Ginny felt annoyed: Hermione was supposed to be her friend, and she was treating her like a kid, too!

"I'm not little anymore," Ginny said firmly. "I want to do this. For the Order." Her eyes met a pair of bright green ones. She saw the worry in them, and that annoyed her more then anything yet.

"Ginny, it is absolutely out of the question," her mother, Molly, spoke up. "You're too young for such a mission. We need to send someone older in."

"Ah, but that's what they'd be expecting," Remus Lupin piped in, and Ginny felt a surge of gratitude towards the werewolf. "These Death Eaters might know what to expect from a veteran Order member, but not from a young, new member. I say we give her a chance."

"Then we shall vote on it," a voice spoke up. Everyone turned their attention from the youngest member of the Order to the oldest: Albus Dumbledore. He was now standing, and his blue eyes were twinkling at Ginny. "Whoever thinks that Miss Weasley should take on the spy mission, raise a hand." Ginny stared around at the hands now raised. The ones whose hands weren't raised were the people in her family, Hermione...and Harry. "Well, that seems to be majority," Dumbledore concluded. He turned again to Ginny. "Good luck, Ginny."

"Thank you, sir," she mumbled, embarressed as a first year at being addressed by her former headmaster.

"I think that concludes our meeting for tonight," Dumbledore said. "Good night to you all." With that, he opened the door to the parlor and walked out. The members of the Order who didn't reside at the headquarters followed him out, some of them patting Ginny encouragingly on the shoulder or arm. But Ginny couldn't help noticing the disaproving looks of her family members. Without saying a word to them, she walked out after the others.

As Ginny headed for the stairs, she heard someone call her name. She turned to find Harry Potter coming after her. She stopped and stared at him, unsmiling. "Ginny," he said when he reached her, "what are you thinking?"

"That I want to help the Order," Ginny said simply. "Now, excuse me. I'm going to bed. I have a mission tomorrow night."

"Ginny, please," Harry said, in such a desperate, pleading tone that she stopped and looked at him. "I've seen a lot of bad stuff. People tortured, dying...I just don't want that to happen to you."

"Harry, it's just a spy mission," she said softly, her voice devoid of any of its previous coldness. "I'll be alright, I promise."

Harry scowled then. "I've never said this before, but I wish Snape were here. This would be his mission if he were."

Ginny smiled gently. "Even if Snape hadn't been killed in the Final Battle, he still wouldn't be able to sneak in. Remember, he showed his true colors before the battle began."

"Oh, yeah."

"Harry," Ginny said gently. "Please, don't be worried."

"It's just...I love you."

Ginny smiled again. "I love you, too," she whispered. "And...I've been thinking...after I complete my mission tomorrow?" She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "I'm ready."

"You're...you mean it?" Harry's eyes lit up, and his disapproval was forgotten. "Wow, Ginny. Are you sure?"

Ginny nodded, her face turning pink. "Yeah. I've made you wait long enough. Tomorrow night..." With that, she softly kissed his lips and went up the stairs. She could feel his eyes on her as she went up. We're going to finally do it, she thought happily. Tomorrow night, I'm going to come home from my mission, and I'm going to give my boyfriend the greatest gift ever.

My virginity.