Roughing It

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran

The world was encompassed in the last hours of twilight, gently gliding across the expanse of the skyline. The Quidditch World-Cup had long since ended and Harry was sitting next to the trophy just below the Minister's sky-box in the stands.

He leaned back, his hands placed behind his head. He'd been sitting like this for hours, ever since the press for the match had ended and the fans had begun to disperse. They had won - the Cannons, 617 to 606. It was the longest game of Quidditch Harry had ever played - 14 hours. He smiled whimsically as he picked up the trophy. This was what playing Quidditch was for - winning.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be enough anymore.

He picked up his broom and prepared to head for the locker room - there would be one last round of press interviews in a few hours. During that time, he would be announcing his departure from the professional Quidditch world. He grabbed the piece of paper that had been sitting under the trophy and walked down the steps that led out of the stadium; all 1050 of them. He needed time to think.

As he neared the bottom of the stadium, he turned the hall into the locker room. He still hadn't showered since the end of the match five hours ago and he still needed to pick up his gear. No one was in the facility yet, but the other players would be arriving soon - no doubt inebriated from celebrating the win. It had been a joke amongst teammates that the only way to handle press interviews was to handle them slightly intoxicated.

He turned on the hot water in the shower as he pulled off his clothes, placing them in a heap in the corner of the room. He sauntered over to the shower, showering quickly, in order to have time to prepare his press statement - his agent had insisted upon it; too often, since entering the public-eye again as a sports player, had Harry entered a press conference without being fully prepared for the questions. If he wasn't left with a mouth gaping openly at the audacity of the press then he was in the front row brawling with them. He silently laughed as he thought of the conversation with his publicist the previous night.

"Now Harry, the wizarding world is not going to be happy about losing their favourite seeker."

"I know, Colin, I know."

"So, please, let them down gently - will you? I took the liberty of typing up a press release for you - read it over before the morning. We won't have much time, so let me know if you want changes immediately."

"Alright, Colin, alright."

Harry hadn't read it. He wasn't going to read it. But, he would tell Colin he had read it, and that it was fine. He trusted the man, he might be a bit obsessive at times, but he was a nice guy and, hey, publicists were supposed to be obsessive.

Harry stepped out of the shower and, grabbing a towel, opened the door to his locker. He, like many times before, was bombarded by a photo Mrs. Weasley had taken during his seventh year. He was standing near the lake at Hogwarts and smiling, having just graduated. He had been happy then, much happier than he was now. He grunted at the irony of it all; the picture had been taken before Voldemort had even been defeated.

But that didn't matter back then, he thought, as he pulled on some clothes. The source of his contentment was the person his arms were wrapped around in the picture.

Ginny Weasley.

He stood, his hair still dripping wet, smiling at the picture. He often wondered if the source of Ginny's departure was all those years he wasted avoiding her.

"Am I interrupting something here, mate? Would you like some time alone with yourself and your picture then?"

Harry looked up, surprised someone was up as early as he. It was Ron, standing in the entry of the locker room, leaning against the door with a look on his face that would have made Voldemort blush. Harry grabbed his towel and threw it at Ron.

"Yeah, maybe I do - you mind?"

Ron grunted, and walked into the locker room instead.

"I'm going to miss you mate - it won't be the same without you."

Ron was quiet for a moment, looking whimsical. Harry knew his best mate: he was contemplating the most tactful way to broach the elephant in the room.

"I know I've asked this before, but are you sure about this?" Ron asked, almost inaudibly.

"Yeah," Harry said, refusing to make eye contact with Ron, "Never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Ron, tossing his head towards the picture Harry had been staring at moments before.

Harry looked up as a wry smile played on his lips. They both knew Ron's words were true.

***

It was late - just a few hours before sunrise. Everyone had gone to bed slightly intoxicated, both from the wine and the silent desert night. Even though it was August, the nights were still cool and the embers of the fire they had been enjoying earlier had long since gone out. Still, Ginny found she was rather warm. Lying on her back, she stared up at the stars. She wanted to remember this.

The loneliness of night was often welcomed by her; it gave her time to reflect upon the path her life was treading down. She would be returning to begin classes soon. She had time to give her life more direction, but not much.

She missed her family greatly. She wondered if it would be different. She worried, would her family still know her? She was certain she wasn't the same person she had been two years ago. Thinking in the twilight of summer, she suddenly felt compelled to use this new identity to become something bigger than the designations that were developed by others to describe her role in the wizarding world; no longer would she be Ron's little sister or Harry Potter's girlfriend, or a surviving warrior. She would simply be Ginny. That's what she was here, to the people she had met. Just...Ginny. She liked that.

She found that comforting. Somehow, she was changed or perhaps just more aware - not of who she was (that was still a long road ahead) but at least of what had defined her so far.

Her family and friends.

The war.

Harry.

She thought about Harry at night. What path was his life travelling on? Did it contain a merge with hers? Was he happy? She silently wished, in Merlin's name, that he was.

***

In the morning, Ginny arrived at the entrance to the academy via portkey. She was suddenly very much aware that she had not cleansed her body in several days and her clothes were covered in dried mud. She hadn't seen a mirror in weeks, and could only imagine what she looked like. Judging from the stares she was receiving, it couldn't be good.

She found Kate and they quickly entered the building in search of the wand directory that housed the wands they had surrendered before departing two years ago. The line was long, and she felt bad for the people who were standing behind her and Kate...they must have smelled horrible. She silently giggled, finding the entire situation hilarious.

The line moved quickly and soon Ginny and Kate were holding their wands with smiles of glee plastered on their faces. Ginny had missed her wand greatly. It had been an ally during the hardest moments of her life and she was grateful to know it was safely in her hands once again. She sent up red sparks, making sure that it really was hers and still functioning properly. They quickly walked up to the dormitories after receiving their housing assignments, glad to discover that they would be roommates with Lynn.

Ginny and Kate entered their room. It was spacious, with large windows overlooking the coast. The tapestries were baby blue and dark brown. Fitting, she thought, as she strolled over and opened the doors to the balcony overlooking the shoreline. She was immediately assaulted by the smell of the sea. It was refreshing.

Kate claimed one of the four beds and Ginny was quick to follow, taking the one nearest to the balcony. She placed her backpack on her bed, happy to see her trunk had already been delivered.

Sitting on top of it was a rather small pile of letters addressed to her. Only four letters.

She picked them up and began flipping through them as Lynn entered the room.

"Well, girls, will you believe this?! I've been here only an hour and I've already been offered two phone numbers! Wait until Lorne hears this!"

Ginny laughed. Naturally, Lynn had declined all offers, being more inclined to Lorne's. At some point, during their two years moving around the wilderness almost like cavemen, Lynn and Lorne had fallen for each other and Ginny didn't think either of them would be taking anyone else's number for a very long time...

Kate and Lynn became engrossed in a discussion about the next three years, while Ginny chimed in every now and then. She was distracted by the letters waiting for her on the trunk, desperate to know what had happened in the lives of her friends and family. She looked up when she noticed the lull in Kate and Lynn's conversation. They were silently staring at her.

"What?" responded Ginny, perhaps with too much nonchalance.

Lynn rolled her eyes, "Well, go ahead then. Open 'em!"

Kate laughed at Ginny's feeble attempt to act uninterested while she moved to pick up her own pile of letters - quickly becoming enthralled in the contents.

"Well, I call the bath then," exclaimed Lynn, relishing in wand-use as she unpacked her things and entered the bathroom.

Ginny followed suit, unpacking her things into the dresser nearest her bed. She flipped through the pile of letters again, eventually deciding to open a letter from Bill.

Hey Runt,

I won't bore you with the details of what you have missed while you were away for two years since I have already been informed that mum and Hermione have covered that area. Suffice it to say that you missed a few weddings, all insanely mundane as usual, and lots of laughs from Fred and George. You've also missed Ron's attempts at pretending to be uninterested in a relationship with Hermione and mum's incessant nagging. So, obviously nothing here has changed.

In bigger (literally) news, Fleur is pregnant. The baby is due in February. And no, you have not missed any other babies - this will be your first niece or nephew. We haven't told the family yet, so keep it quiet for a while. It's crazy to think I'm going to be father. I mean, me, a father?! You've got to be joking! Who, in their right mind, would place me in charge of raising another human being?!

How was the wildlife in Australia's back country? Did you survive without your wand? Any boys you fancy? I know, I know, only one will do, right? Well, you should know that the one in particular has been...well, to be honest I don't know what he has been but it certainly isn't Harry. Do try to talk to him will you? All attempts that have been made by the Weasleys have floundered.

Well, at any rate, write when you return. Fred and George have been driving everyone crazy since you left. We need you back so you can keep them in line!

Your favourite brother (don't lie, you know it's true),

Bill

Ginny smiled, so, she had missed weddings. She didn't mind, she wasn't much for weddings. After the effort that had gone into Bill's, she was quite content to never experience another one again. She hoped she hadn't missed much of anything else. But how exciting it would be to be an aunt! She had major plans to play the all-encompassing corruptor among her nieces and nephews. It was the least she could do to get back them for the torture that was what she liked to call "growing up with evil boys."

After reading the first letter, she took the rest with her into the bath. She summoned lavender scented bubble bath as the water poured over her. She wasn't entirely sure how she had survived so many months without this. It felt absolutely wonderful. She picked up the next letter from Hermione.

Dear Gin,

Forgive me for not having written you sooner - my job has left me with very little time. I've taken a teaching position at Hogwarts - Transfiguration. It's quite strange. I never thought I would be interested in teaching. But, after seeing Hogwarts destroyed, I couldn't justify not helping. The students deserve to experience Hogwarts. The reconstruction efforts ended about a year after you left and we hosted a grand opening which seemed to lift some of the dark clouds that had surrounded the community since the War. It isn't quite as charming as it was when we were students, but it has a few new aspects that make up for the lost history.

Neville will be joining the staff too as our resident Herbologist this fall. Minerva (it is still very odd, calling her by her first name!) tried to convince Harry to accept the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, but he adamantly refused - not surprising in the least. I wish he would have; all of the other professors are so old and often boring (except Minerva, she really is a fire-cracker - you wouldn't believe the stories she has to tell!).

I'm having a wonderful time here - although it's rather strange to be in a position of authority. But, not needing a teacher's note to explore the restricted section of the library has been fabulous! There are so many interesting texts I've never read before! Some older than the founders - can you believe it?

I told Ronald to write to you, has he? His season with the Cannons just wrapped up. Can you believe it - well I guess not since you wouldn't know... Ron and Harry are playing the World Cup! I don't exactly know which team they will be playing (you're probably furious with me for not knowing), but they are undefeated, just like the Cannons. I'm so happy for them - I don't think either of them believes it's really happening. But, I'll be glad when the season ends - Ron and I haven't really seen much of each other.

Ginny, how do I convince him that I'm sick of this ruddy friendship and want something more? I'm tired of waiting...I'm about ready to just attack him and throw him in a bedroom! ADVICE! Please!!

Harry, I know, has not written you. His excuse, so he puts it, is that he doesn't really understand the purpose of writing letters to someone who can't reply...he's always been a bit thick, Ginny, so don't get too angry with him. He does socialize with us, and he always comes to the Burrow (mainly because your mum threatens to never feed him again). At times though, he looks perplexed or dreamy. He is planning something big - you know that look. As usual, he won't let Ron and me in on the secret. But, he is doing rather well without you so don't worry.

There really isn't much in excitement around here lately. The Aurors have been working to catch remaining death eaters and have been fairly successful. The three-year anniversary went well. Of course, the ministry hosted a large celebration in Diagon Alley. It lasted three days - can you imagine? It was more like a carnival than a memoriam. Harry was livid and planned a small memorial service at Hogwarts to commemorate everyone. It was really rather nice, but sad all the same.

It's difficult to believe this much time has passed. It all feels like we should still be battling for our lives...do you ever feel that way Ginny? Ron and Harry are bottlers you know. They don't talk about things, but I need to talk about things. Sometimes I wake up and think I'm still in that lake...I re-live it all Ginny, at least once a week, in my dreams. And it still terrifies me.

Enough about me - in happier news, Remus has apparently disappeared with Tonks. They left a note at Grimmauld Place sometime in May and haven't been heard from since. No one is quite sure where they have got to, but I guess that was the point. I won't go into detail on other big news as your brother (and I won't say which one...) made me promise not to reveal too much.

I don't know if you will receive this in time, but I would like to wish you a VERY happy birthday. I hope, wherever you are, you are having a wonderful time. As soon as you have returned, write to me, I miss you!! I want to know all about it! What is the institute like? What are they teaching you?

Love,

Hermione

Hermione was always able to put her mind at ease. She figured Harry wasn't much for letters. But, she did not like the sound of Hermione's nightmares.

She hadn't even finished reading her pile and she was already wiped out. She looked at the other two letters; one from her father and the other from Ron. Apparently Hermione's nagging had indeed paid off.

Ginny reappeared from the bathroom feeling rather tired. She pulled back the sheets on her bed and rested her head on her pillow. As she drifted between the land of sleep and dreams, she realized she had entirely too many letters to write. Naturally, she could always create multiple copies of the same letter and send them off to everyone she had missed over the past few years. Ginny laughed, her mum would be furious if she did that.

***

Harry Potter entered the office of the Chudley Cannons coach. The press junket had gone surprising well, considering he just told the wizarding world he wouldn't be around England much longer.

"Hi." Harry said, leaning against the frame of the doorway.

"Hullo, Potter." The coach did not look up while he spoke the words.

"Here you are then," said Harry, handing him a document.

"So, this is your official resignation then? There is NOTHING I can do to convince you to stay on the team?" The coach sounded defeated, as if he had already lost all of next season's matches.

"No, I'm sorry, there isn't." Harry turned to leave the office.

"This woman really threw you for a loop didn't she?"

"Sir?"

"The woman - you know, the one that has plastered that lost look on your face?" The coach looked down again and shook his head, muttering, "Your walking out on your future."

"No," Harry responded, I didn't walk out on my future, it walked out on me, "This just isn't for me anymore. Thanks for helping me out with the contract negotiations - I owe you one."

"Anytime, Potter. If you change your mind - the door is always open."

"Thanks," and with that Harry exited the office.

Harry walked back to the locker room to pick up his gear. Broom in hand, he apparated to his flat. Placing his things near the doorway, he walked to his bedroom and grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, he sat down and began drafting the letter he knew would be one of the most difficult he would ever have to write.

***

"Ah, Miss Weasley, please come in and have a seat," said the woman standing in front of her with an American drawl.

Ginny entered the office of Ms. Umlauf, her newly assigned advisor. Each student was required to regularly meet with their advisors to discuss coursework and future plans every six months. This was Ginny's first meeting.

Ms. Umlauf was a witch. Or rather, a witch that very much resembled the stereotype portrayed by Muggles during Halloween. Her hair was midnight black extending well past her lower back. She wore it simply; perfectly straight and parted to the side. Her eyes were hazel with a surprisingly yellow tinge to them, like the eyes of a cat. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, rather young for a witch in a position of authority at the Institute. She was dressed entirely in black:

Black flowing skirt. Check.

Silk shirt showing perhaps a little too much cleavage. Check.

Black nail polish. Check.

Red lipstick. Check.

Ginny was fairly certain all she was missing was a cape and pointy hat. She surveyed the room and stifled a laugh as she noticed the remaining two articles placed on a chair near the door.

"Well, I trust your two years were enlightening? You did the back country tract, correct?"

"Yes, it was definitely interesting," replied Ginny as memories flowed through her mind.

"Now that your two years have passed, you will be entering the second phase of your training: general, but intense, coursework for one year. This is followed by two years of intense study in a particular area, or areas, of choice."

Ginny piped up. "So, I am able to study more than one area?" she asked hopefully.

"It's possible yes, but we usually discourage it. Many times, one area is difficult enough to immerse oneself in, let alone multiple. But, let's not jump ahead. There will be plenty of time for all of this later."

Ginny resigned herself to let Ms. Umlauf finish.

"Now, we have multiple courses to offer. We demand that our students take a total of fifteen courses within the year; ideally five per semester, over three semesters. Although, some have taken up to seven in one semester; allotting fewer for the next. We usually issue time-turners for this type of schedule, but it is rare that we approve such a class load. Understand, Ms. Weasley, that what you will learn in one semester over three months, you would typically learn in one year at Hogwarts."

Ginny swallowed hard. This program sounded rather intense and she now realized that she had just sent herself back to the dungeon that is usually found in the dictionary under the heading school.

"...Now, the types of courses we offer cover a wide-range of topics. The difference between this Institute is that our courses cover topics you are most likely not familiar with, or at least have not been introduced to in previous coursework.

"We do not include common subjects, such as Charms, Potions, Astronomy, etc. Since you are already comfortable with these courses, we do not teach them."

"I don't understand. We haven't covered every charm or spell. We must have skipped some material," said Ginny.

Ms. Umlauf smiled at this. "That's true. Of course you have not learned every spell. But, that also isn't our objective here. Most students who begin here have been programmed to accept certain spells. Let me show you what I mean. Summon my hat with your wand, please."

Ginny removed her wand for her pocket and spoke "Accio Hat," summoning the hat to her lap.

"Wonderful."

Ginny wasn't exactly sure why this was amazing, she had learned the charm in her fourth year easily enough.

"Ms. Umlauf, I'm not sure I understand-"

"Please, call my Nevaeh. You will find we are rather informal here."

"Alright, Nevaeh," said Ginny, feeling odd, "I don't understand why a simple summoning charm is, well, wonderful."

"It is not. This is the foundation of the Institute. Let me ask you a question. How did you summon my hat to your lap?"

"I used my wand."

"No, that is a what; I'm asking how you did it."

"I said the word Accio."

"But, that doesn't explain to me how you actually did it or why it worked."

"I'm not entirely sure why it does work," Ginny said, after a moments thought.

"Exactly my point. Here, we create new charms, spells, potions. The first step in the creation process is understanding how and why something works. How can you create something when you don't understand the things you already know? Why do you say the word Accio to summon objects? Why does a Pepper-Up potion require a counter-clockwise turn half way through brewing? Why does a mandrake bite cause illness? This is what you will do in your first year. We will create a list of courses for your first semester that will cover the principles behind the spells and charms most commonly used."

Ginny smiled and said pensively, "...If we understand why all of the above works then we can apply it to create new spells."

"Well done," said Nevaeh, smiling, "This program will explain to you why these spells work and how to create new ones that work just as well. But, even though the first year is intense, the steps you will be taking are small. You must begin by re-programming the way you think. Right now, you look at spells as a tool. When you graduate, you will look them as an art.

"The courses offered for the first year consist of two components: Magical Theory and Application Processes. The former will teach you how the summoning charm works and why you, with specific wand movements and word pronunciation, can cast it. The latter will teach you how to create new charms based on the same principles."

Ginny was fascinated. These were questions she had always wondered about but had been too embarrassed to ask; assuming everyone already knew the answer. She had often thought about these things during her hours of star gazing in the desert. Why did these spells work? And who created them? How did you create them? I guess it made sense now, relinquishing her magic for two years. It certainly had given her plenty of time to think about magic and why it existed or how it worked.

She pulled herself from her thoughts to find Nevaeh eyeing her closely and smiling.

"Yes, Ms. Weasley, I do believe your two years have been spent wisely. The back country tract always provides students with thought-provoking questions. Now, we should begin by discussing your background," she said, as she began to flip through a file that was resting on her desk, "You had Outstanding grades in all your coursework except for Ancient Runes, History of Magic and Arithmancy. While these grades are above average for our program, it was not the weighing factor in your acceptance. Your field experience resulted in our department offering you a position here. Now, Ms. Weasley -"

"Please, call me Ginny. I don't understand - what does field experience have to do with the program?"

"Working in the classroom, under supervision, is one thing. Working in the field is completely different. You are not being told what to do; you are independently applying your knowledge. Basically, your experience illustrated that you could function, quite successfully, under pressure and without being prompted."

"Oh...," replied Ginny. She wasn't exactly sure if being 'under pressure' was the right phrase for battling Death Eaters.

"There are approximately thirty courses available during your first year. Many of them will be new topics to you. As I mentioned, your first semester will consist of a schedule we create for you. It will cover areas we feel you are both strong and weak in. The courses you take during your last two semesters will be decided by you, with my approval. While we adhere to old principles in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions, we also offer an array of second and third year courses ranging from time and space, theoretical magic, research seminars, independent research, the human psyche and soul, life and death, muggle science, potion chemistry, muggle medicine versus wizard medicine, and history of magical theory, to name just a few."

Nevaeh pulled a rather large text out of her drawer and, muttering a shrinking charm, handed it to Ginny.

"Here is a list of our current courses being offered over the next five years. I suggest you keep this in a safe place and review it regularly."

Ginny grabbed the book from Nevaeh and began to flip through it. She was intrigued by a number of courses.

"In the meantime, classes begin on the 20^th of August, at 8am sharp, no exceptions. Here is your schedule. Please examine it and let me know if there is anything you would like to be changed."

Ginny took the parchment from her and looked over her course load. Introduction to Potion Theory and Application - at least Snape wouldn't be teaching it - Charm Theory and Application, Theoretical Arithmancy - that sucked, she hated numbers - Muggle Science, and Transfiguration Theory and Application.

"Well, how does it look? We placed you in courses you were familiar within order to build up your analytical strength. In the following semesters you will be able to take more focused courses in these and other areas. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes...I have one. Muggle Science - what is that course about?" said Ginny, somewhat sheepishly.

"Ah, excellent question. Sorry, I completely forgot to explain this. Every student in their first year is required to take at least two semesters of Muggle Science. The goal of the Institute is to understand magic as it pertains to the world. And, as such, the world does not just encompass wizards and witches. It also includes muggles. To that end, we incorporate a group of courses based on topics muggles study," Ginny raised her eyebrows in question of this practice as Nevaeh continued, "This may seem a bit odd, but consider this. Most muggles are unaware of the existence of magic, which makes them extremely objective to the human endeavor of knowledge and discovery. This makes their perspective extremely valuable to us, as witches and wizards . . . "

"...because their ideas help us find the holes in our own," Ginny finished.

"Correct, and vice versa. Muggles are really quite interesting. There are many things they have done that no witch or wizard has been capable of. In addition, there are a number of things that Muggles seem to understand better than we do. Most of these achievements have been born out of their fields of engineering and science."

"Like what?" asked Ginny, curiously.

"Well, for starters, they seem to have a better handle on how the universe formed. They understand chemistry in more detail than we do. For example, we understand that bubotuber pus causes boils on the skin, whereas, the chemist could explain exactly why it happens."

"It is our long term objective to give voice to the theories and principles found in the Muggle world, though slowly."

"Why has this not been considered before?"

"It has, some have been working on it for hundreds of years."

Ginny eyed her advisor with disbelief. "If that were the case, then why have I not heard of any of these things before now?"

"You have, you just don't know it."

Ginny wasn't buying it.

"But, there is a very important reason for keeping this information secret," Nevaeh paused, looking somewhat solemn, "Ginny, I'm sure you have encountered this before - muggles are not exactly the favourite life form to some witches and wizards. Thus, there are some who would not be very happy to learn that muggle thought has been partly responsible for much of the innovative spellwork that has been developed over the past hundred years. Granted, some of the best magic we have was developed ages ago. But, that doesn't mean we need to stop trying. So, we keep this research under wraps because if it were to become public it could possibly be stopped."

"I understand."

"Excellent, now, any other questions?"

Ginny shook her head, exasperated by the amount of information she was receiving, and absolutely certain she would have ten thousand questions once she was no longer near Nevaeh.

"That's perfectly fine," Nevaeh smiled, "we keep an open-door policy. Stop by with questions anytime. Before you leave, I have one more thing to discuss that is crucial to your studies here."

"Alright," said Ginny, nervousness rising in her stomach at Nevaeh's sudden sterile tone of voice.

Nevaeh leaned over her desk and eyed Ginny closely as she spoke assertively, her words sounding crisp on her tongue yet oddly comforting. "We need to discuss your past experiences, Ginny. We require a heavy course load and research of all our students. Often times, this lifestyle does not fit everyone we accept into the program. Of course, they are all exceptional students, but they cannot handle the stress that is placed on them by the demands of the program.

"I bring this to your attention because your past is quite unusual when compared to the average student. Ginny - you must prepare yourself for this program because it is not a forgiving one. I know you are prepared mentally, but you must also be prepared emotionally. If you are holding something in or guarding something, you must stop now. Open your mind."

Ginny could feel the barricades of her mind being lightly probed; Nevaeh was trying to read her mind and Ginny was not at all pleased about it as she reinforced the stronghold that protected her thoughts.

Nevaeh had definitely felt it, but was lost in her thoughts and Ginny didn't miss the look in her eyes, "Ginny, what are you hiding?" Nevaeh finally asked.

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked with a quiet anger that was barely simmering below the surface.

Nevaeh tactfully ignored the question, instead giving an offer of peace, by saying softly, "We want you to grow as a witch and to do that you need to feel comfortable with yourself and your past."

Ginny didn't know how to respond.

"Understand, that I did not ask because I am interested in your personal life. I ask because the answer has implications for your future at the Institute. I don't think I need to reiterate the intensity of our program, Ms. Weasley. I will not apologize for trying to access your thoughts, we usually require that for new applicants. However, your circumstances are delicate. Ginny, if you do not take control of the corner of your mind that is eating away at you, you will not succeed here." Nevaeh stood and moved towards the door, before adding, "And trust me, the wizarding world wants you to succeed." Nevaeh's eyes did not leave Ginny's gaze.

"What do you mean the wizarding world wants me to succeed? They hardly even know me." she said with a flare of sarcasm and anger. She chided herself silently - she sounded too serious.

Nevaeh chose to avoid answering Ginny's question. "Perhaps it won't be a problem now. But, trust me, it will in the future. One of the reasons we require new students to relinquish their magic for two years is to allow them time to work past things that are holding them back. You, without a doubt, have had the most difficult background in the applicant pool of your year. While you have shown remarkable growth during the two-year period, you are still significantly lacking. Open your mind to the issues that are holding you back. It is the only way you will be able to move forward."

Ginny sat back against her chair and huffed.

"How do I do that? It isn't that simple."

"Well, for starters, you can stop pretending the thing you are running from is a past with Harry Potter. We both know that is not the real issue here."

"How would you know?" said Ginny, coolly. Somehow, she knew Nevaeh would avoid her question again.

"You do not have to work through this tomorrow. It will obviously take time. I just ask that you behave mindfully towards the things that may delay your progress."

Ginny nodded, feeling defeated towards her new advisor. What was she supposed to say? She was absolutely not ready to discuss the things she knew had been gnawing at her soul. She also knew that what Nevaeh was saying was correct. She looked up at her advisor with weary eyes and found the woman smiling in a way that reminded Ginny of Luna at her quirkiest moments.

Ginny reluctantly raised her body from the chair and moved to the door that Nevaeh had just opened.

"If you have any questions, my door is always open." said Nevaeh.

Ginny nodded, and with that, exited the office into the hall. She wasn't quite sure what to make of her advisor, but she was surprised to discover she liked her - even with the mind probe she had attempted.

***

Ginny returned in the late afternoon to her flat. Her roommates were nowhere to be found and after flipping through the local newspaper she decided to have a go at her last two letters, beginning with her fathers.

She picked up the envelope and opened it to find a small card inside with instructions for revealing the rest of the letters. She quite unsure as to why she would need a charm to reveal more letters when they could have just as easily been owled. Nevertheless, she followed the instructions and immediately regretted it. Sitting before her was a pile of more than 600 letters. What could her father have possibly had to say to her? She decided to start in the beginning, fearing the worst.

She picked up the first one on the top of the pile. The script on the envelope was different from her father's but she would have recognized it anywhere - it was her mother's handwriting, tight and crisp with wisps at the end of each word. She remembered being a little girl and wanting handwriting that resembled her mother's. It always seemed so grown-up to her. She opened it up to find a note from her father that was simple and terse.

Ginerva,

Your mother wrote these ages ago and would have wanted you to have them.

Love,

Dad

Ginny slowly pulled the letter her mother had written from the envelope and allowed her eyes to scan the script. She quickly became engrossed with its contents as well as the contents of the other letters. Ginny realized at once that this was her mother's way of letting her daughter grow up. For many of the letters, Ginny cried and laughed outwardly, unbelieving of the words her mother had to share about everything from raising children to dealing with unfair teachers and boys at Hogwarts. Ginny wondered if any of her brothers had heard similar stories from their father.

She thought not.

And as she read, she realized how much she missed her mother and the warm presence that came with her being. She was pulled from her letters by a tap at the window. She looked up and felt her breath hitch in her throat. Sitting outside was a snowy owl, one that she had come to terribly depend on during the war. Hedwig. She opened the window to let her in. Hedwig graciously entered, looking tired and hungry. Ginny moved toward her and stroked her fur.

"Hedwig!" Ginny took the letter from Hedwig's beak and pulled some crackers from her school bag and gave some to Hedwig, "I bet you've had a very long journey, huh?" The snowy owl wasn't exactly thrilled with the crackers.

"Well alright then, don't get your feathers in a twist, I'll go down to the kitchens and fetch you something better in a moment."

But first, Ginny was going to read this letter. Scrawled across the front was one simple word: Gin.

She was apprehensive. What would he have to say? Would it be declarations of love or just a quick review of what he had been occupied with over the past two years? Did she even want to read it? She'd pulled herself away from her old life over the past two years and opening this letter would surely heave her right back into it. And after her conversation with Nevaeh, maybe now wasn't the best time to start walking down memory lane...

No, she told herself, she wouldn't read it. As much as she wanted to hear what he had been doing for the past two years, she wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. Not now, not when she was about to embark on a journey that would allow her to overcome what had been hindering her for years now. She wasn't about to pass this opportunity up.

Did it matter anyway? She knew, from her Hermione what Harry had been up to - Quidditch, the World-Cup, being pouty...all the usual behavior. And she didn't want to ruin her time here if he had to tell her that he had found someone new, or worse, if he acted cold and withdrawn as if they had never been close at all. She was worried he was likely to behave that way. So, she pulled open her drawer and placed the letter safely in a box that her mother had given her on her eighteenth birthday.

On a rainy day, years from now, she would open it, when she was no longer confined by the things in her past. And a million miles away, Harry Potter was praying against hope that her eyes had read his words.