The Ghosts of You and Me

Death valley queen where have you been
Since they crowned you in glory
Filled your head with dreams
But it still goes to show in every desert
There's a rose that's blooming for all to be seen
I remember you well from that town
You did dwell with the face of an angel
In a dump hot as hell

- Death Valley Queen, Flogging Molly

Chapter One

It was the summer's end, just before Ginny Weasley's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While half of her family was stationed in London at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, she, Ron, and Bill remained at the Burrow. It had been a hard summer, with very few good aspects to look back on.

As she walked down the intensely warm, dirt road that led from Ottery St. Catchpole to the Burrow. Her thoughts flitted to what happened over the summer. Percy had 'rejoined' their family with a stiff pardon and a small smile. Harry had inherited all of Sirius' belongings and was the 'master' of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, well, as far as Kreacher was concerned. The Headquarters was in the care of Molly Weasley and under the watchful eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Ginny had dated and broken up with Dean Thomas, and Fred and George's joke shop had catapulted to the top next to Zonko's Joke Shop.

A gust of hot, sticky wind propelled dust and sand into Ginny's face and plastered her sundress to her clammy body. She shielded her eyes and looked up through the heat waves to see a pair of familiar faces not ten meters away; Harry Potter and her brother, Charlie. Ginny's mouth spread into a big smile, and she ran toward the two, her sundress flowing with the breeze.

Charlie was average height, thin, and with broad shoulders and wavy red hair that fell into his eyes. His skin was the darkest of all the pale Weasleys, due to the heat burns of dragons' breath. He had warm coffee coloured eyes and two dimples that winked out when he smiled.

Harry was also average in height and thin, but his shoulders were not as broad as Charlie's. His hair was jet black and looked as though a pixie had been his hair stylist. Behind Harry's glasses, his eyes were bright chartreuse, sparking in the sunlight.

"Ginny," Harry said taking her into an embrace. He smelt of sweat and sandalwood. "I've missed you. How was your summer?"

"So-so Harry, but it's good to see your face after two months," she said, and turned to Charlie. "You never told us you were coming home!"

Charlie nodded, embracing her as well, mussing her copper waves.

"You've grown and it's only been a month. Pretty soon you'll be as tall as ickle Ronnie," Charlie joked. Ginny crinkled her nose.

"If you ever compare Ron to me again, I'll use the curse of the bogies on you!" she threatened jokingly.

"Sure you will." He patted Ginny's head, which made her roll her eyes. "C'mon, let's go home." The three turned and walked the mile path back to the Burrow in the sweltering heat.

Once they arrived at the Burrow, Ginny's intuition told her something wasn't right. She jogged a head of her brother and Harry. Ginny entered the house to see Ron pacing back and forth with his sleeves rolled past his elbows and a look of revulsion playing on his face.

"What'd you do?" she asked as she entered. Ron snorted, just as Harry and Charlie came in behind her.

Five minutes later...

"You bloody fool!" Charlie slapped Ron in the back of the head. "What possessed you to do such a thing?"

The four of them stood in the humid cellar of the Burrow, which was slowly being engulfed by water that was leaking (or spraying rather) from various pipes.

"Well, I was making a hamburger at the time, so I was a little preoccupied. Then the faucet started leaking. I came down here with one of Dad's Muggle wrenches to tighten a few pipes, well, it turns out that I am not too handy with Muggle tools... so here we are," Ron said as he gave a nervous smile.

"First off, if the faucet was leaking, why'd you mess with the bloody pipes down here?" Charlie boomed, his face reddening. "Secondly, what happened to your hamburger?"

Ron's eyes widened and he sprinted up the stairs toward the blackening hamburger. Charlie, Harry, and Ginny stood with their hands on their hips, looking at the mess before them.

"You know," Ginny muttered, "I've just realized something."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Ron is one of the dumbest people I know. If he was any more idiotic, he'd turn into Lavender Brown." Charlie and Harry simply looked at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

***

"Draco, dear," Narcissa Malfoy rapped on her son's bedroom door.

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"I was wondering if you'd come to dinner tonight," she asked patiently.

"Come in," he said sighing. Narcissa entered the familiar territory of Draco's room. Aside from the velvety 'Slytherin green' carpeting, long ebony curtains, and wide hearth of marble, it was clearly the room of a sixteen year old boy. On the wall there were posters of The Weird Sisters and Puddlemere United's Quidditch team.

Tall and thin, Draco stood by his mahogany desk next to his cathedral-sized windows.

"I'm worried about you, Draco," Narcissa said.

"And I you." He moved toward his four-poster bed and lay on his back.

"I'm serious."

"I am as well." Draco arched his back over the edge of the bed, so that he was looking at his mother upside down. Narcissa sighed.

"Are you glad the summer is over?" she hastily changed the subject.

"Summer's lease hath all too short a date," Draco quoted. "As ready as one can be, I suppose." Narcissa shook her head. Either Draco had truly lost his mind or he was a better actor than she gave him credit for.

"Dinner's in an hour. Be there tonight. We're having company. Tomorrow we're going to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies," she said curtly and left her son, who was currently humming 'O! Canada' and staring blankly at the ceiling.

As soon as the door closed, Draco stopped humming and sat up. From under his pillow he took out a thick book that declared itself Shakespeare's Entire Works. Draco opened the book to where it was dog-eared.

"At least Hamlet had a noble father," he muttered to himself. "Frailty, thy name is woman." He sighed and gazed up at his ceiling. It was charmed to have shimmering stars of all colours, even during the daytime. There were also a few dried flowers and plants stapled up there. Draco put them up several years ago. He found them beautiful, but also very lifeless and maybe even depressing.

Draco rolled off his bed and went into his own private bathroom. The floor was white marble with squishy green rugs covering it. He had his own Jacuzzi, two-headed shower, and vanity. Being as vain as Draco Malfoy was, this came in handy. Well, he thought to himself, I had better get ready for bloody dinner.

***

By the time Bill Weasley had gotten home, Charlie had managed to fix Ron's disaster with the help of Ginny and Harry. Ron had managed to submerge the burning hamburger deep in the bowels of the garbage can and then proceeded to be the Foreman whilst the other three worked, looking up spells to mend Ron's damage.

When told, Bill just rolled his eyes and laughed. The four ate their dinner in the family room, something Molly wouldn't have approved of, had she been there. Bill told them about his date with Fleur.

Ginny remembered Fleur from her third year at Hogwarts, when the Tri-Wizard tournament was held. She remembered her as a voluptuous blonde, wearing dead animals around her neck as a fashion statement, complete with a superiority complex and an irritating French accent. She and Bill had been on-again, off-again dating since last summer, but Bill never brought her home to meet Mom, so Ginny wasn't too concerned about this relationship yet.

Shortly after, Ron went to his room, proclaiming that he was tired. As soon as he was out of sight, the other three began their gossip.

"What is wrong with Ron lately?" Charlie asked immediately.

"My thoughts exactly. Has he lost his mind, or what?" Bill responded.

"Well, I think he is just--" Ginny was cut off.

"Has he been acting like this long?" Charlie questioned.

"Define: this," Bill said.

"I know what's wrong with him, it's silly really," Ginny was cut off once more.

"Ginny, don't interrupt. It's rude." Bill furrowed his brow. "Well, I guess it has been a few weeks. You don't think a spell's been put on him or anything, do you?"

"Shut up you idiots," Ginny screamed. Her brothers looked at her in amazement. "I know what his problem is." She paused for effect. "He is love-sick."

"Love-sick? What do you mean by," Charlie gave a small pause, "love-sick?"

"Love-sick: He wanders around in a daze, thinking only of the woman he loves, or at least believes to love," she explained with little patience.

"Who is she?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, even I know that one." Bill rolled his eyes. "Hermione Granger, who else?"