Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

This chapter is really long... I hope it makes sense, yall. haha.

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I'm falling in love
But it's falling apart
I need to find my way back to the start.
-Into Your Arms - the Maine

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Their house was huge. I stood in the Lewis's front yard, gazing up at their enormous mansion with the acres and acres of surrounding land.

Every summer, I would look forward to coming to Summer's house for two weeks. Usually because things got so hectic at the Burrow, and the country air here always helped me clear my head. Besides, every summer Harry usually stayed with Ron at some point. Just being in the same vicinity as Harry for a few minutes nearly throws me over the edge – I normally kept to myself when Harry was there, at least up until my fourth year.

Fourth year was a good year. Ah, memories.

Anyway, back to the house. It was the kind of residence one would see in old country movies, like a plantation home of some kind. It was a white three-story building (but there was a fourth floor underground, specifically for parties) with green ivy winding its way up the walls. The windows were all surrounded by navy shutters, and there were many brightly colored flowers surrounding the house. I knew there was a large pond in the backyard that I skated on once over Christmas holidays, as well as breech trees and willows we would sit under in the summer to get some shade.

"Your suitcases are already up in your rooms," Summer said. "Splinty should have everything prepared, as usual."

I nodded in acknowledgement and the three of us walked up the stairs and into the house. The foyer was a light yellow and very spacious and welcoming, the windows seeping in the moonlight from outside.

Beside me, Amy stifled a yawn. "What time is it?" she mumbled.

Summer glanced at the large grandfather clock that rested against the wall. "A little after three," she said.

"Three?" Amy exclaimed in a tired voice. "Merlin, I wasn't tired five minutes ago, but now that we're out of that blasted club, I'm beat!" She raised a hand over her mouth to cover another yawn.

"The club was fun!" Summer said excitedly. She clearly was not tired. Then again, in the seven years I'd known her, Summer had hardly ever been tired. "Don't get sleepy now, Ames, Ginny still has to tell-all about dishy Mark." She raised her eyebrows suggestively at me.

I groaned. "Not tonight/today, Summy. In case you didn't notice, I nearly fainted ten minutes ago. You're lucky I had enough energy to Apparate myself here without getting Splinched."

"You didn't Apparate yourself here, you boob," Amy said tiredly. She swayed slightly on the spot. "I side-alonged you."

"Exactly," I said stupidly, as though what Amy had just said would emphasize my point.

Summer's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine," she grumbled. "But you're spilling everything tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

"Ginny, shut up."

I mimicked Summer's voice as I repeated, "Ginny, shut up, mah mah mah!"

"LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE DEMON –"

"BOTH OF YOU," Amy said loudly over our screaming, "shut up or else you're going to wake up Summer's family."

"Mum and Dad aren't home," Summer said, leading the way as the three of us traipsed up the stairs to our respective bedrooms. "They went to Ireland for a dinner meeting with sponsors of the Kenmare Kestrels. So no need to worry."

Mister Jerry Lewis, Summer's father, was a representative for the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry.

"What about Ben?"

Ben was Summer's twenty-five year old brother… and he was married.

Summer snorted. "Merlin, you really are tired aren't you, Ames? Did you forget all that I told you about Katlyn? They got married two years ago… you went to their wedding… ring any bells?"

Comprehension flickered across Amy's features. "Oh, yeah! Sorry, I'm just so – " she yawned, "tired."

Summer and I laughed, and we reached the landing where our bedrooms were located. Summer's was the closest, on the left side of the hall, and then Amy's. The one I usually stayed in was on the right side, placed between the other two rooms.

I glanced inside my room, and everything was white. I mean every single thing – the dressers, the headboard, the walls, the lampshades… everything, except my purple suitcase that rested on the white comforter. But that's how it was supposed to be.

We parted, walking into our respective rooms, and color suddenly blinded me. The room was charmed to fit the liking of whoever was staying in it, hence all the white. Now, the walls were a vibrant emerald, the cover on the bed was a deep golden color with crimson pillows and accents. Various other things, such as the drapings, were now the gold and red colors. The dressers were wooden, and the floor was also wooden with a plush red carpet placed in the center. One would assume these colors would clash and be distinctly Christmas-y, but it wasn't. To me, it was welcoming, like the dream bedroom.

The first year I came to Summer's house, the summer leading into second year, I did not fail to notice that the green was exactly the shade of Harry Potter's eyes. The red and gold, of course, represented Gryffindor House. The girls, hearing enough already about my slightly-obsessive crush on Harry, just grinned at me with knowing expressions when the walls turned green for the first time. How it looks now, at eighteen, is precisely how it looked when I was twelve, and I still loved it.

After unpacking my suitcase and placing my clothes in the various drawers, I was satisfied. After changing out of my dress/tube/whore-clothing-thing and into pajamas, I walked into Summer's light purple room and threw myself onto an orange couch that was pushed against the wall. Summer's room never went white, because she was always there. I don't really know how the magic works, but I never said I was a genius, okay?

…

Okay, well, I am a genius, but I just didn't bother wasting my knowledge on learning the facts of wall-décor.

Yup.

"Well, I guess we should turn in," Summer said. I looked around and saw Amy lying face down on Summer's bed, with the owner of said bed (hey that rhymes! Said bed said bed said bed… ahem.) looking down at her with a half-cross, half-amused expression.

"Mmphf," Amy responded sleepily.

Summer swatted Amy's bottom playfully, laughing as she did so. Amy twitched a little, but otherwise did not move. Trying a new tactic, Summer tried to worm her hands under Amy's body and scoop her up.

Fail.

"Get up, you fatty!" she laughed.

I smiled. Amy most certainly was not a fatty. She had a very slender frame, skin that hardly ever tanned no matter how hard she tried, and had the longest eyelashes I've ever seen. Her curtain of dark hair swung just above her shoulders, and her long bangs hid the prettiest sea-foam colored eyes you could ever imagine.

Amy was the quietest, and most rational, of our little trio. She was the kind of person who would rather sit back and watch the action than actually be part of it, unlike Summer and I. Amy thought through her actions before she made them, which is a trait she attempted to pass on to me and Summy… and that obviously didn't happen. Her parents were Muggles, and she was an only child. Oh yeah, and she's obsessed with rum. It's a bad habit, I know, but maybe that's what led her to date Seamus Finnegan during our sixth year (before the Death Eaters took over the school, that is).

Summer, on the other hand…

Well, I guess you could say Amy and Summer were like night and day. That would pretty much sum it up.

Summer was tall and leggy, and sported blonde hair that would always curl unless she magically kept it straight. Summer would stay brown no matter what the season (and yes, I would be the first to admit I was extremely jealous of that trait), and she had vibrant blue eyes that always sparkled with laughter. Summer never stopped laughing. It got annoying every now and again, but overall, it kept Amy and I in a good mood.

Summer loved bright colors. And flowers. Outside of school robes, one would usually see Summer wearing a brightly colored floral skirt. Yeah, Summer knew she had good legs, and she used that to her advantage. She had dated and dumped her fair share of guys ("I dump them, not the other way around!"), but she had this completely fairytale-esque idea that her prince would come up riding on a white broomstick and sweep her off her feet. Summer was the one Amy and I had to keep out of trouble the most. In short, I guess Summer reminded me of a female version of Sirius Black.

Circe, I miss that man.

Sigh.

As for me, well, I didn't like to think about myself much. I guess I was in the middle. If Amy and Summer were night and day, I was afternoon. The comic relief. Living for the moment. Whatever. Just don't call me a slag (because it has happened before… let's just say that person winded up with giant bats attacking their face while I laughed heartily), and don't get on my bad side. And I guess I was the friendliest of my friends: Amy was too shy and Summer was too distracted to go be kind to someone else.

Like one time, in fifth year, there was a little first year sitting by himself during lunch. I got up from the middle of Ron's speech (he had gaped at me incredulously, as if I dared to leave his ramblings) and walked over to sit next to the boy. He had stared at me like I was a nutter, which I probably was/am (in a genius sort of way), but as soon as I said "Hey" I was glad I had come over, just to see his face brighten up. We got to talking, and he told me his name was Tyler and that he didn't really have many friends.

"Well, you're lucky I have great friends," I had said to him, standing up. "And you're going to sit with us from now on."

Tyler's eyes widened, but he followed me to my friends. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when I introduced Harry. However, we got him laughing so hard that I saw other groups of people around us shooting him jealous glares.

Muhahahaha. Jealous first years. What great satisfaction Tyler must have felt. Needless to say, but when we returned to Hogwarts the next year, Tyler had skyrocketed up, making him quite the handsome little twelve-year-old. He didn't need to sit with me anymore after that.

I sighed inwardly to myself. Kids these days.

"I am not a fatty!" Amy retaliated suddenly, shooting up from her face plant on Summer's pillows. "You know how I feel about that!"

Summy laughed. "Yeah, because before you came to Hogwarts you were a bit chubby?" Still laughing, Summer leaned in to pinch Amy's cheeks and make fishy faces. Amy batted her away grumpily, swinging her legs over the bed to stand up and go back to her own Quaffle-colored room (why it was Quaffle colored, I'll never know… Amy refuses to tell).

"Goodnight, ladies," Summer said cheerily, flouncing into her bed. "We'll need to wake up bright and early for Ginny to tell us her story!"

Amy and I grunted our goodnights, and marched into our respective bedrooms. I turned the lights off, climbed under the covers, and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

*****

Summer's plan to wake up "bright and early" was an absolute fail. Like, seriously. We woke up somewhere around twelve-forty-five, and trooped into the kitchen for brunch around one. Splinty the House Elf had prepared us waffles, and I shoved them into my mouth immediately after the plate was set in front of me.

My head was pounding, and I'm sure it was from both lack of sleep and that ridiculous Zombie crap I drank last night. I knew it tasted funny.

…Okay, maybe not. But you get my point. My head hurt like piss. And yes, I do know how much piss hurts, because I'm a genius. Obviously.

I groaned. My head hurt really bad, and I was convincing myself in my head that I was a genius. What a great start to the morning/afternoon.

"Headache?" Summer asked me. When I nodded, she said, "Me, too. I'll ask Splinty to make us a potion."

Amy looked smug.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, popping a piece of waffle into my mouth. "What?" I mumbled through the waffle.

"I feel fine," she said, cutting into her waffles delicately. I scowled as I took a big swig of pumpkin juice and Amy continued, "I hardly drank anything at all."

"Yeah but I saw you getting all over that blonde bloke, so don't give me that shit," Summer said roughly. She may be happy ninety-nine percent of the time, but when she was hung-over, I can't say she was the most pleasant person in the universe.

"Summer, watch your language!" Amy scolded.

The blonde girl stabbed a chunk of waffle moodily. "Sorry, Mum."

"I have a date with Mark tonight," I blurted before Amy could retaliate.

Summer's fork clattered from her hand as it hit the plate. "Why didn't you tell us this immediately?" she shrieked. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention Summer's crazy mood swings. She had them from time to time, and they usually made me want to throw her off something tall.

Like Big Ben. Or the Empire State Building (which is in New York, America, for those dolts who didn't know).

But I knew how my tempers could be, so I let Summer's mood swings slide, just as she allowed my bouts of anger to slide. It was usually PMS for her anyway.

"Yeah, we're meeting at seven at that Italian place, Donnagini's. You know, the one we passed on the way to the club last night."

"Oh my Merlin, what are we sitting around here moping for? We need to get you dressed!" Summer stood up quickly and then stopped, grabbing her head. "Ugh, vertigo."

Amy snickered.

"Sum, we have four hours. Calm down." I pushed my now-empty plate away from me and rose slowly from my chair. Suddenly Splinty was there, and he handed me a small cup full of potion with a "Here you go, miss!"

I drank it quickly, immediately feeling the effects, then said, "I'm going to go shower; I feel like a mess."

"Aaaaaaand you smell like one too!" Amy said in a sing-song voice. I blinked at her, subtly trying to sniff my armpit. Unsuccessful.

"…It's a Muggle saying, you say it after you sing the happy birthday song to someone…"

"There's a song for birthdays?"

The raven-haired witch rolled her eyes, and I bounded up the stairs and into the shower.

Peeling off my clothes, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. Circe, I looked like the living dead! The make-up I forgot to wash off last night was smeared all around my eyes, and my cheeks felt sticky. This shower would do me good.

Stepping under the warm water, I immediately felt better. I let the liquid beating on my back loosen me up a bit, all the while running shampoo through my hair.

I wondered what Harry would think if he knew I was dating again. Ha! It was good feeling, moving on. My world did not have to revolve around the Boy-Who-Conquered. No, sir, it did not! It could revolve around Pretty-Eyed-Mark. That was fine with me.

But still, it was a comforting thought to think that even after my brother died, I was still living my life and not sitting on my arse moping. Which is what I'm sure Harry has been doing for two years.

Harry was probably blaming himself for all the people who died in the war, taking the responsibility on himself. I suddenly felt a rush of sympathy. I wished I could go and comfort him, wrap my arms around him and tell him there was nothing he could do.

I frowned. What was I thinking? I WAS OVER HARRY JAMES POTTER.

Then why did my stomach just flip when I thought his name?

I sighed. Stupid stomach.

I thought about other random things as I washed my face under the water from the shower. I thought about Mark, and what I was going to wear on the date. Should I keep my hair curly, like usual, or should I straighten it? It looked good both ways. My hair usual fell in soft waves down my back, so while I was at Hogwarts my hair never took up much time in the mornings. It's the part of me that I liked the best.

I remember Harry used to like to finger my curls while we were curled up on the couch in the common room. I'd look up at his face and smile, losing myself in the emerald of his eyes.

Ah, memories.

Memories I shouldn't be thinking about.

But seriously, Harry was the only one who could make glasses look that sexy. And the rest of the female population at Hogwarts agreed. It really was quite a shame that he denied that Auror job he was offered right after the War. It seemed to me that he was just going to sit around at the Burrow and eat my mum's food for the rest of his life, still moping…

And then I realized I had been standing idly in the shower for quite some time, as my hands were really pruned. I clambered out of the shower and charmed my hair dry, deciding to keep it curly. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Summer was waiting in my room to ambush me with a navy blue dress.

"Whoa, settle down!" I told her as she came running towards me as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. "I'll put it on, I'll put it on!"

Summer looked pleased that, for once, she didn't have to argue with me: I was still caught up in my ponderings about Harry.

I slipped the dress on and grimaced. "Summer, this gives me no shape at all." It had a deep boat neck, which flattered my collarbone, and it came to a stop just above my knee, but it just hung limply at my sides. There were intricate little white flowers lining the bottom of the dress, but other than that – "I look like rectangle."

Summy rolled her eyes and thrust a white belt into my hands. I wrapped it around my middle, and suddenly I looked incredibly curvy. More so than usual.

Amy, who was lounging on my golden bed, offered her input. "I like it. It's something completely different than what you wore at the club. That black dress screamed 'I'm-in-love-with-Harry-Potter-but-I'm-here-to-show-off-my-bod-anyway-because-I-know-I'm-sexy', but this dress just shows your innocent side." She raised her eyebrows and added, "If you have one, that is."

I resisted the urge to sock her in the stomach. Instead, I settled on flicking her ear, ignoring her protests and focusing on the somersault my stomach performed when she said Harry's name.

"Now that you've flicked my ear, I refuse to do your make-up."

I felt my eyes widen. Amy was renowned for her make-up skills. "All right," I relented. "I'll stop with the ear-flicking."

Amy's nose scrunched up momentarily before she said, "That's what you said last time, too. But I'll do your make-up anyway."

"Thanks, Ames!" I said as I bounded over to the desk in the corner, covered with make-up products.

I saw her roll her eyes in the mirror. "I'm not doing it for you, it's for Mark. There's only so much you can do when a Sex God goes on a date with your best friend."

I snorted, but otherwise allowed her to apply the products on my face.

"Oh, so Mark's a Sex God but Harry's not?" Summer commented after a pause.

I threw my hand over my stomach, trying to stop the gymnastics it was doing at the mention of Harry. The feeling wasn't exactly new – actually it had been happening since I was ten – but I thought I had overcome it. Conqueror of the Butterflies.

I guessed not.

"I'm not saying he isn't," Amy said. "But since he's recently gotten so much more famous than he was before, I think it's all going to his head."

I opened my eyes fastly (yes, that IS a word. I made it up, and I'm a genius, so therefore it's a word.) and Amy nearly poked my eye out with the eyeliner pencil. "What are you on about?"

"Did you not see yesterday's copy of Quidditch Weekly?" Summer asked me skeptically.

I shook my head. "Ron took it before the delivery owl had even landed." Which was, now that I thought about it, unusual behavior for my brother. If it didn't involve the Cannons, he didn't care.

"Well, maybe that's because Harry was on the cover."

"Harry was WHAT?"

"He's the new Seeker for Puddlemere United, and he wasn't even on the reserve team or anything." Summer flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder idly, not noticing the expression on my face from this news. Amy, however, noticed this.

"Settle down, Ginny, what's gotten you so worked up?" she said. I began to rise from my chair, but she pushed me back down again, my bum hitting the wood with a plunk! "I'm not done with you yet, Weasley!"

"I – but, I thought – he was supposed to – UGH!" I was so upset I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. So Harry wasn't sitting around moping. Nope, he was going around trying out for PUDDLEMERE BLOODY UNITED!

My self-confidence was shattered. I didn't want to go comfort Harry any more, like I had wanted to in the shower. No, I wanted to push him off a cliff – and a bloody tall one, at that. MY BROTHER DIED BECAUSE OF HIM.

I let out an irritated noise, something of a cross between a war cry and a burst of outrage, angry at myself for blaming Harry for Fred's death.

I saw Summer and Amy exchange glances, but I ignored them.

All this time, I'd been thinking Harry was too upset over the War to contact me. He hadn't owled me since I went back to Hogwarts for my seventh year, much less talked to me. When I returned home a few weeks ago, he hadn't been there. Ron said something about him staying with Hermione for a few weeks, but something about my brother's expression made me doubt him. Harry was probably just avoiding me.

Merlin's Great-Grandfather he probably was avoiding me! Sweet Bernie, he hated me! Harry Potter hated me! Do you know what this means? It means he's going to come after and hunt down the pieces of my soul and kill them then come after me and meet me in a secluded forest and I'll try to kill him but he'll come back to life and kill me first!

My mind was in full Freak Out Mode, but I managed, "Summer, may I see the article?" through clenched teeth.

She walked across the hall to her room and returned moments later, thrusting the July edition of Quidditch Weekly into my hands. Looking down, Amy seized the opportunity to continue working on my eyes. I allowed her to do so as I gazed at the immaculate cover. There was Harry, posing dramatically in his new navy Puddlemere robes. I almost burst into angry laughter at the cool look on his face. How could he possibly look so calm when I was sitting here about to go on a date but I was ABSOLUTELY FUMING?

Potter for Puddlemere, pg. 56 the subheading beside his waist read. I hastily thumbed through the magazine (but stopping on page 37 when the new model of Nimbus caught my eye) until I found page 56.

The first thing I thought after I saw the headline was: damn, this writer sure knows how to use alliteration.

POTTER PLAYING FOR PUDDLEMERE? PREPOSTEROUS! by Samantha Bing.

Snorting to myself, I continued to read the rest of the article.

We all know Harry Potter (nineteen) as the Boy Who Lived and Conquered, but now he has moved on to something else – Quidditch. Known in his Hogwarts days as the youngest Seeker on a House team in a century, Potter was announced captain of the 1997 Gryffindor team during his sixth year. Two years later, Potter has found himself at the top, worming his way through with his flawless talent and, dare I say it, important connections.

But I am sure all my readers are wondering: What happened to United's original Seeker?

Joseph Lesley, previous Seeker of United for three years, has recently married Raleigh Greene (daughter of Quidditch legend Gregory Greene) and has decided to spend more time with his new wife. Raleigh has been suspected of pregnancy, and therefore Lesley would not want to be travelling with a child in tow.

Though Lesley has been unavailable for questioning, sources have told Weekly that he and Potter have become quite good friends. Members of Puddlemere United say that Lesley has always admired Potter and knows that he will make a great addition to the team.

Co-Captain of the Bulrushes, Louis Rousse (twenty-three, Chaser), states, "Potter's a good kid. He's already mates with the rest of the team, and his skills are astonishing. Lesley made a great choice in his successor, and I'm really looking forward to a good season."

Puddlemere United came in third place at the Quidditch World Cup, beaten only by the Appleby Arrows and the Wimbourne Wasps. The team appears to get along very well, so is the World Cup in the not-so-distant future for United?

"The team is like a second family to me," Rousse says. "And families work well together. I think we'll be doing better this year than we ever have before."

Upon hearing this, Weekly remembers Potter's family-free past. Will he be able to handle the responsibility that comes with a professional Quidditch team? Or will the mysteries of his quest to defeat You-Know-Who distract him from his training?

Other Co-Captain of the Puddlemere Bulrushes, Oliver Wood (twenty-one, Keeper) captained Harry for three years at Hogwarts.

"Potter had great potential, even at eleven years old," Wood tells Weekly. "He didn't even try out for the House team. Professor [Minerva] McGonagall caught him flying after a Rememberall, and instead of getting him in trouble, she pulled me out of class and introduced me to our new Seeker."

When asked about Potter's reaction to pressure, Wood says, "I don't think we have to worry. He works hard, and he's got a good head on his shoulders. He looks at home on the pitch and with the rest of the team, and as captains, Louis and I feel we have nothing to fear except Wasps and Tornados, our rivals."

Watching the first practice of the season, Weekly reveals that this team really does have the potential to get the Cup this year. With much more training and conditioning, there's no telling what the Bulrushes will accomplish.

I threw the magazine down on the floor when I was done. "What a terrible article," I muttered angrily. "This Samantha Bing character should be fired immediately. She can't write worth a sh –"

"DONE!" Amy said loudly before I could finish my curse.

I turned to look at myself in the mirror. My make-up was put on flawlessly, the colors done in natural tones, but there were irritated red marks on my cheeks.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down, unsuccessfully trying to get my mind off Harry. I picked up the magazine again and re-read it, feeling a little more open-minded than before.

"' Weekly remembers Potter's family-free past,'" I quoted sourly. "'Will he be able to handle the responsibility that comes with a professional Quidditch team? Or will the mysteries of his quest to defeat You-Know-Who distract him from his training?' What is this rubbish? Of course he'll be able to handle it! He's HARRY POTTER." I exhaled noisily in irritation.

"Are you sure you want to go on this date, Ginny?" Summer asked, her voice doubtful. "It's about six forty-five, so you'd need to get going…"

"Yes, I'm sure," I snapped at her.

"Then you may want to calm down. If I had known you were going to freak out this much, I wouldn't have said anything. I just thought you'd be interested."

"No, I'm glad you told me," I said, trying to make my voice softer. "And is it really already six forty-five?"

Summer shot me a look. "Ginny, you were in the shower for, like, eight years."

I frowned, thinking back. I did remember standing in the shower for quite a while, now that I think about it… I guess that's what thinking about Harry did to me.

I sighed, not wanting to think about Harry right before my date with Mark

"Thanks for helping me get ready, guys," I said, smiling.

Amy grinned. "No problem. Now you go eat that Italian and knock 'em dead!"

I looked at her with a shocked expression. "You want me to kill him?"

Her grin slipped off and she grimaced. "Muggle expression." And then she muttered something along the lines of, "Why do I even bother…"

"Don't eat too much garlic!" Summer supplied. "It makes your breath smell!"

"Okay, I won't," I promised, sticking my wand down my dress so that it was lined up with my armpit, held in place by my bra strap. "See you."

Feeling a lot calmer, but my mind still whirring, I Apparated to the alcove near the restaurant. I walked in searching for my date, all the while mentally preparing myself for my date with Mark Hollis, Sex God Number Two.

*****

"…And so then I said, 'Do you really think I'd give fifteen-year-olds beer? That was Dr. Pepper!'"

Mark laughed at his story, and I laughed along with him, thinking it was hilarious even though I thought Pepper was a ridiculous last name for a doctor.

I had completely forgotten about Harry and Puddlemere as soon as I saw Mark sitting at a table in the back. I focused instead on his eyes and the hilarious stories he told me about these girls who stumbled around like they were drunk, even though they really weren't but didn't know it. I was a bit surprised with myself when I was almost completely unbothered by the flirty waitress, as I was completely jealous when another girl so much as looked at Harry.

That was the only time I had thought about Harry this whole time though, I swear!

"So they snogged each other for no reason?" I asked, still laughing.

Mark nodded, and the waitress came back with another basket of rolls – we had been eating them non-stop since I arrived.

Right as the waitress was leaving, there was a white-hot sensation on my skin, right where the tip of my wand resided inside my dress.

I yelped aloud in pain, but ignored it, thinking it was just a random burst of magic, which my wand had from time to time.

"Are you alright?" Mark asked, looking concerned, but there was still a small smile on his perfect face from the story.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, smiling and reaching for another roll. Just then my wand burned me once more, and I cried out.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, but my wand did it again, this time longer than the first two. I hissed, trying to cover up my pained expression. "I'm just going to go to the restroom," I said, willing the pained tears to stay in my eyes.

When I reached the loo, I went into the large handicapped bathroom, immediately pulling my wand out of my dress and swishing it angrily.

Suddenly a pearly while weasel was in front of me, and the voice of my father was filling the stall. I knew the bathroom was empty, but I cast a Slienceo charm around the stall, just in case the sound of Dad's Patronus worried some of the women coming in to pee.

"Ginny, come home now," my father's Patronus said quickly, his voice sounding tired yet rushed. "Charlie's been bitten by a Catalonian Fireball, and the venom of the dragon is very harmful. We need all the help we can get."

Beta'd by BubblyAmericanWriter1

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A/N: This took longer than I thought... it's impossible to get alone time in my house. really. The first time I uploaded this, the little stars I use to separate things weren't there... it really messed things up. so I had to fix it.

Soooo what'd yall think? Good second chapter? I've already started on the next one, and Harry will definitely be there! ...After I get back from Gatlinburg.
Here's a sneak peek:

"I don't know what to do," I told myself in a panicked mantra. "I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't – RON WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

My brother had his wand out and was pointing it at Charlie. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and a bust of red light erupted from his wand, hitting Charlie straight in the chest.

The screams stopped. There was silence in the den until I screeched, "YOU IDIOT, RON!"

Yeah. That's all you get. Muwahahaha.

Oh, and for those who love the Maine - I SAW THEM IN CONCERT. Yes, John was as sexy as ever. No need to worry. It was also Artist vs. Poet and Stereo Skyline... and I'm seeing Forever The Sickest Kids in a few days! Get excited.

Songs: I'm Gonna Find Another You - John Mayer; The Remedy (I Won't Worry) - Jason Mraz; You & Me (live) - Dave Matthews Band; Nothing Lasts Forever - Maroon 5

B/N: Really amazing chapter! My new story will be up soonish... when I can think of a title, haha.

So review! Or else!

A/N: She's so awesome. And so are you, if you review. Yeeeeee for chapter 3 awkwardness!

REVIEW. please and thank you. :)