The Fate of Us All

Ginny Weasley looked out the window. It was snowing, the prettiest type of snowfall, the kind that coats all the trees in white fluff as the snowflakes fall lazily through the crisp air. It was the kind of snowfall that gave her hope. Maybe it would all turn out for the best in the end, and soon it would all be over and she could go home to the burrow and feel her mother's arms around her, soon it would all end.

Ginny felt her throat close up as she fought back tears. She would give anything to see her mother again, to be back in England where things made sense. But it was impossible to go back there, not with the war ravaging everything on that side of the Atlantic. This was where she was safe; her mother had sent her here for a reason. Still, the loneliness was unbearable.

The war for the wizard world, as it had been dubbed, was at its peak. Voldemort was stronger that anyone could have imagined, and soon it wasn't just about wizards; Muggles were involved too. The Queen had sent her armies out to fight for the cause, and England was at war.

It was like something out of a Muggle book. Fathers, sons and brothers enlisted, and battles were being fought over people's heads. Alas, Muggle bombs and fighter jets were no match for Voldemort's army of wizards, and England called upon her commonwealth to help their mother country. That was when the children started to be sent away. Britain was no longer safe for them.

Ginny didn't cry when her mother and father told her of their decision to send her away from the country. She had shed too many tears over this stupid war. She cried when they shut down Hogwarts, putting her education to a standstill, she cried when every one of her six brothers enlisted, she cried when her mother came home with news that a death spell had killed three hundred children in a Muggle school in Glasgow. Molly made the decision to send Ginny away the next day. By that time,

Ginny had no tears left, so she went upstairs to pack her things with out saying a word.

"It's be an adventure, Ginny," her mother had assured her while helping her pack. "You know I'd die if anything were to happen to you. You'll like Canada, and I think it will suit you very well. It's safe there Ginny, you'll be safe there."

Ginny had just nodded as she packed the warm sweaters that her mother made her every year. She wished Charlie were there to give her some real advice about what lay ahead. But Charlie was training Dragons to kill death eaters somewhere in Wales, so Canada was clouded in mystery.

George was the only brother she could say goodbye to. He was on a two day leave at the time, and his fighting unit was based not far from the burrow, so he dropped in to bid farewell to his only sister. He cried and hugged Ginny tightly for ten minutes, putting on a display of emotion so dramatic that Ginny felt a little embarrassed, but also very sad.

"Damn you're brave, Ginny," he said after he let go of her, wiping his tears away. " I suppose a war torn country is no place for a little girl, and I'd kill myself if something were to happen to you, but all the way to Canada? You're so brave," and he hugged her once more, kissing her on the head as his tears flowed freely.

"I don't want to go," Ginny whispered into George's chest. "I want to stay here with Mum and Dad. What if you or Fred or Ron or Bill or Percy or Charlie dies and I never see you again? What if I get the news in Canada and I have no one to cry to? I'm going to miss you all so much." She hugged her brother quickly around the waist.

"You're only sixteen, you need to go where you are safe."

"I know," Ginny's voice cracked, but she didn't let herself cry. "This is all like some terrible dream. I wish I could fight with you."

"I wish you could fight with me too, but you're a girl. I know it seems terribly old fashioned that girls can't fight in this war, but I think its for the best. You kids are doing your part by getting out of the way," was George's pathetic attempt at cheering her up.

"Doesn't sound very heroic."

"But it is, you're going across the ocean into a strange and unknown land, just to help us beat the Death Eaters. You are a hero, Ginny," George let go of her again, brushing her hair out of her face and giving her a kiss on the cheek. He was surprised at how painful it was to say goodbye to his sister. When he went off to join the forces he hadn't felt like this at all, because it was his adventure and he

knew that Ginny would be at home waiting for him. But now she was the one who was going away, and he couldn't bare the thought of her all alone in Canada, with no one to look out for her, and no one to pour out her troubles too. He would miss her very much.

Two days later, Ginny was bidding her parents a final farewell. She would be going to Canada by ship; air travel wasn't safe anymore and the Floo system couldn't take you halfway around the world.

"I'll miss you," Ginny said awkwardly as tears rolled down her parent's cheeks. Her mother kissed every part of her face.

"You be a good girl with your host family," her dad said, as her mother wept. "Oh, and remember, our house is part of the postage system now," her father puffed up with pride. "So you write lots of letters, and be sure to put your address on them, so we can write to you and send the boys' letters on to you. Alright then?"

"Alright," Ginny said quietly. Her mother squeezed her so tightly she couldn't breath.

"We love you, Ginny!" Molly cried out through her tears.

"Love you too!" Ginny called back, before disappearing into the crowd of children and onto the ship.

That was almost two months ago. When she had arrived in Canada, she was put under the care of a Miss Viola LaFontain, an elderly witch who agreed to host a young girl between the ages of twelve and seventeen. Ginny was sixteen, shy and polite, and seemed just the girl for a lady like her.

Miss Viola, as she was known, lived in a little cottage in northern Ontario. The cottage was located on large hill by a small lake, and the nearest town, Beaver Creek, was twenty km away. Needless to say, the location was very secluded, as had been most wizard houses in the old days, before the war had brought the magic and non-magic worlds together. Despite her loneliness, Ginny had become very fond of Miss Viola.

She was almost seventy, but at heart she was still fifteen. Having lived through WWII, she seemed to understand this war much better then anyone else Ginny had spoken to. She understood how scared a girl like Ginny could be, all alone in a strange country, not knowing a soul. As soon as the girl stepped of the bus at Beaver Creek station, she had taken her under a caring wing.

"You must be Miss Wesley. Folks around here call me Miss Viola, but what should I call you?"

"Umm...Ginny, please," she said quietly, clutching her small suitcase in front of her.

"Well Ginny, you've come a long way, haven't you? Welcome to Canada!"

"Thank you," Ginny said nervously, shivering in the cold.

"Well, I trust you'd like to get settled back at the house. You must be dying for a cup of tea!" Miss Viola smiled a very wide smile. Ginny smiled back, relaxing a little.

When they had reached the cottage, Miss Viola bustled about trying to find her wand to conjure up some tea. Meanwhile, Ginny took a look around at what would be her home until the war was over. It was an old house, Victorian almost, and quite big. Ginny wondered what an old woman was doing in a house this size all by herself, but she soon fell for it's charms. The large bay windows overlooking the lake,

the rocking chairs covered in homemade cushions, the baskets full of wool and unfinished knitting. It reminded her of the burrow almost.

"Here it is!" Viola triumphantly pulled the wand out the pocket of an apron that had been left lazily on a chair. "Alright, lets get a fire going, and some tea for the young Miss Wesley and myself."

Ginny slide into a chair opposite Miss Viola and daintily sipped at her tea."

"Now, you must tell me all about yourself," Miss Viola said cheerily. "We are to become great friends, I know it."

"There really isn't much to tell," said Ginny, shyly.

"Nonsense! There is always something to tell! Tell me about your family, school, friends' lovers."

Ginny blushed. "Well, I have six older brothers."

"Oh good, tell me about them," Miss Viola said, sounding truly interested.

"Well, they are all fighting in the war."

"That's terrible," Miss Viola took Ginny's hand. "You must miss them tremendously!"

Ginny nodded and tried to hold her tears back.

"Who's your favorite brother?" Miss Viola asked, a bit of mischief in her eye.

"Oh I could never pick," Ginny said like a good girl.

"Come on! I won't tell anyone! I'm not your mother!"

"Well, it's my second brother Charlie that I've always gone to for advice, but I love all my brothers, honest."

"Oh all right!" Miss Viola said laughing, "I was only joking, now tells me about your friends, any young men about them?" she winked.

Ginny was shocked. Surely this old lady hadn't winked at her and asked her about boys?

"Well..." Ginny started, not knowing what to say.

"Come on now...be a sport, I long to hear the secrets of youth. It's been such a long time since I was as young as you!"

"I don't have any male friends, but I used to have a crush on my brother Ron's friend Harry."

"Goody! Tell me more about this Harry fellow!"

Ginny spilled the story about the Chamber of Secrets eventually, and Miss Viola, a great listener, gasped and laughed at all the right parts. Something about this old woman helped Ginny talk about personal things like that, something about her made Ginny feel very safe and happy. Perhaps her stay in Canada might not be so bad.

She watched the snow pile up on the trees. She wanted to cry now, but she hadn't cried since before she left. Miss Viola was very nice, but she wasn't her mother. And despite living with the nice chatty woman, Ginny was lonelier then ever. She hadn't heard from her family yet, so she supposed it took a long time for mail to get all the way across the ocean using the postage system. She wished her parents could just owl her, but she was too far away. She was cut off from everyone and everything she loved.

"Miss Viola!" Ginny called, "I'm going to the post office in Beavercreek."

"Of course dear!" Miss Viola called back, " are you going by broom or walking?"

"Walking."

"Oh dear, well, remember to dress warmly."

"I will."

Ginny closed the door behind her, starting the long trek to town.

When finally she reached the sleepy little village, it didn't seem sleepy at all, but rather wide-awake. People were yelling and crowding in the square. Curiosity getting the best of her, Ginny walked over to get a closer look.

It was a fight. Ginny sighed. Always the endless violence; why couldn't people just learn to get along with each other? The two men involved were wound up in each other's arms, both trying to knock the other to the ground.

"What's going on here?" Ginny asked one of the men who was yelling and cheering the fighters on.

"Well, that blond chap," he pointed to the figure on top, "was in the pub when that chap with the beard mentioned something about the blond not being in the war, the blond being so young and all. Well, the blond gives the bearded fellow this really arrogant smirk and continues to drink his beer, and the bearded fellow gets really pissed off. Next thing you know, he's calling the blond a Death Eater

and a You-Know-Who supporter. So the blond rolled up his sleeves and popped him one in the nose."

"Oh dear," Ginny said, "This war is turning everyone into monsters."

"Well, I don't know if you're right about that, but if sure makes people edgy," the man replied, not tearing his eyes away from the fight.

Ginny should have walked away she knew, but she wondered what the outcome of the fight would be, so she stayed. A few minutes later the blond had knocked the bearded man to the ground, and was throwing punches at his face. The bearded man lay still after a while.

The blond stood up slowly, and brushed the snow off his clothing. He kicked the bearded man on the ground lightly.

"Don't you ever call me a fucking Death Eater," he muttered under his breath.

He lifted his head up. Ginny gasped. No, it couldn't be.

Draco Malfoy pushed a strand of blond hair out of his eyes.