Exiled Years

CHAPTER 2: Trepidation


A/N: I’ve been told this chapter is quite confusing, so here’s an explanation. I’m hopping between the past and present. You’ll know its past when I have some one telling storstory in first person. Third person will symbolize present events. That asterisk shit in the beginning is like a setting of the stage sort of g.
g.


**Rain was falling evenly from the spring sky. Not a heavy or unpleasant shower but enough to make flying mildly uncomfortable. Wind swept over the stadium, but it did little to deafen the roar of the crowd. Two seas, it seemed, were battling in the small confines of the Quidditch pitch, one red the other green.

“FLY HARRY!” reae ofe of the brightly colored signs in the crowd.

“SLYTHERIN FOR THE CUP!” was written gaudily in silver and green on another.

Flying high above the crowd was a lone figure on a Firebolt, mildly pacing the field from above. They were dark of hair and green of eye, and though a serious expression played upon their face now, most of the time a smile was found there.

Below him the action ensued.**


“Pass it off, Ron!” I yell over the crowd to my brother. Darting between the huge and hulking Slytherin beaters, I slip into an empty spot so Ron could toss me the Quaffle. Slinking through the air on my sub-par broom, I still out fly most of the people on the field, including my brother.

“And Ginny Weasley has the Quaffle! Passed off to Ron Weasley. Tag team them Gryffindor! And Flint with the Quaffle! Surprise fifth year right there, good pick for Slytherin. And, oh, was that really necessary? Good call Hooch, penalty for Gryffindor!”

Sweat, or rain, I can’t tell which, pours down my face. I wipe my eyes in vain, my sleeves are wet. I’m beginning to get weighed down by my uniform; the torrential downpour, it isn’t natural for this time of year, not of this magnitude at least.

“And a nasty hit by Dobbin of Slytherin! Keep off the Keeper you slithering –”

“Lane! I swear one more time!” the voice of Professor McGonagall says sharply.

I frown at Dobbin. The bastard had been asking for it all night; somt-sot-so-fair calls by Hooch had only encouraged him. I speed on, waiting for my brother to stop being a prat and pass off the Quaffle.

I receive it in a hurried manner, almost losing it in because of the rain. I don’t though. Shooting off in the rain I charge the Slytherin goal posts. Dobbin’s Bludger just barely misses me as it roll to my side and hurl the Quaffle in the goals.

“Score! Ten points for Gryffindor! Weasley the Younger goes on her victory lap before returning to play. And a well earned victory lap it is! Teach those slimy, crummy, no good, cheating –”

“Lane!”

“Sorry Professor! I’m just really emotional! Oh, wait! What is this? Has Malfoy seen the Snitch? I think he has!”

I hold my breath as Malfoy dives for the Snitch. He’s so close! Go Harry! Go! Faster. Harry is faster, his broom is better. He is close on Malfoy’s trail; I can see the Snitch glittering madly not ten feet from the ground. It seems all play has stopped, the Quaffle in my brother’s hands as the two Seekers dive perilously to the Snitch.

Then it happens. Harry leaps from his broom and dives right over Malfoy, snatching the Snitch as his broom travels under Malfoy and then landing on it. The cheers are defining.

“Ginny!” I hear my name called. The Quaffle flies in my direction and I catch it. I’m confused. Ron has a look of anxiousness on his face and I stare at the Quaffle. Wam Iam I supposed to do with this?

“What is she doing?” Lane says over the crowd. They are…strangely silent. “Go! Weasley, fly! What are you doing?”

I look at the Quaffle in my hands. What do they want me to do? We just won. Harry just caught the Snitch! I’m suddenly out of breath, the Quaffle slipping from my fingers. It is grabbed roughly by a Slytherin and he smirks at me. I realize I’ve been hit with a Bludger in the stomach. Dobbin is laughing at me. I sneer and fly after my brother, falling in formation with the Hawkshead.

“What is wrong with you, Gin?” Ron yells at me in the formation. He struggles seeing in the rain and re-grips his broom.

I am at a loss for words. “I – I – I don’t know!” I yell. “I – I can’t explain!”

He frowns and says, “Fall onto the left flank and be ready for the Idle Hands Play!”

I nod and move out to my brother’s left. Whatever’s happened to me I’ll have to think of it later. Soon Ron pulls the stunt, faking a wild broom and whizzing madly about in front of the Slytherin Chasers. They laugh of course, what better chance did they get to laugh at a Weasley? I break for the one with the Quaffle, Morrison, I think it is. He is distracted by the show my brother is giving. Idle hands do the devils work after all. I’m close to a devil, I’m a Gryffindor. I snatch the Quaffle from the Slytherin Chaser and start down the pitch. I’m so far ahead of them even their Beaters can’t stop me. I swerve delicately on my broom and heave the Quaffle at the bottom left goal.

“Score! Ten points for Gryffindor! Weasley the Younger goes on her victory lap before returning to play. And a well earned victory lap it is! Teach those slimy, crummy, no good, cheating –”

“Lane!”

“Sorry Professor! I’m just really emotional! Oh, wait! What is this? Has Malfoy seen the Snitch? I think he has!”

What is this? This is…familiar.

I watch as the scene is replayed for me. Harry flies madly after Malfoy, Malfoy is quick, but again, Harry gains on him. Harry is close on Malfoy’s trail, the Snitch glittering near a Gryffindor stand ten feet from the ground, just as I remembered.

I look around me and even the Quidditch players have stopped to see the spectacle. The crowd in deafeningly quiet.

Then it happens...again. Harry leaps from his broom and dives right over Malfoy, snatching the Snitch as his broom travels under Malfoy and then landing on it. The cheers are deafening...again.

Confused, I think for a moment before charging Harry like the rest of my team. But excitement catches up with me and I’m swept up with the fascinating exhilaration of winning the House Quidditch Cup.

I am hugged from all around with Harry and Ron in the middle. It is good, I think, for Ron to get this attention. He has so long wanted for a spot in the limelight and as team captain (his sixth year no less, I’m so proud) he is exposed to it full force. Though he shares it with Harry I don’t think he minds. It is better this way.

I move to the outskirts, avoiding my boyfriend, Colin Creevey. He seems more exited to be taking pictures than to be looking for me anyway. My mind however, is focusing on something more important. Déjà vu? I think not. It was more real than that, more intense. Déjà vu is something many wizards happen to get just because they are more magical than Muggles. But this...this wasn’t like that.

In the locker rooms I sit alone, pondering what this must mean. No one notices...of course. I feel a sharp pang of hate riffle through me. Sure they love Harry and Ron, they are the Invincible Duo. Never loose a match, don’t get caught, are best friends with the smartest, prettiest witch I know, Hermione. Never mind I out fly Ron and I have been editor-in-chief of the Hogwarts Daily since I was a fourth year. Never mind I was confused and lost and lonely. Never mind.

I pack my things in a huff and head out into the still pouring rain. I see the headmaster walking towards me and frown. What is he doing out in the rain? He carries with him a bright yellow umbrella with pink flowers on it. I smile.

“Miss Weasley,” he says warmly. “I would like to congratulate you on your excellent flying.”

I blush and wipe my eyo seo see him clearer. He is gone. I frown. What is wrong with me? He was right there...wasn’t he? Am I going mad? Am I the next candidate for Mungo’s? I stop dead in the rain and drop my bags. What the hell is going on?

Then as if in instant replay, Albus Dumbledore comes walking down the field towards me, a yellow with pink flowers umbrella over him. It hurts my head thinking about it. I must be on something. Too much excitement I decide.

“Miss Weasley,” he says warmly...again. “I would like to congratulate you on your excellent flying.”

“Th – thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore,” I reply, careful not to wipe my eyes.

“An exciting game, no?”

“Yes, very much so, Headmaster,” I reply courteously. Why do I get the feelthatthat he knows about the...hell he knows everything. Of course he knows about that little episode I had. “Headmaster,” I say. Then I stop. Does he really need to know? No I decide. “Nothing, Headmaster.”

I see his eyes stop twinkling for a brief second. It could have not happened at all but something told me it did. He looks at me for a moment then nods. “I see,” he says. “Good luck on your exams, Miss Weasley.”

I thank him and he walks back to the castle. Maybe he is disappointed with me. No, I think. He knows something, but also knows I’d rather tell him when I know more about it myself. I pick up my bag and head up to Gryffindor Tower.

I hear the party from down the hall and realize I’ve forgotten the password. I frown and sit down. No one will hear me in there. I might as well wait for some one to try and sneak out.

I wake up to the sound of mewing. Damn! The last thing I need is that damn cat chasing me around all night. I don’t want to get any points taken off my house, we are already behind Slytherin and there are only three weeks left of school. Damn!

“What’s this, my pretty?” I hear Filch’s sadistic voice say. I flinch. Hoping that this is another strange episode I blink my eyes. His shadow gets closer still. Damn! I think I need a new strategy.

The Fat Lady looks down on me with pity. “Sorry, doll,” she says sleepily. “I’ll tell him you went that way if you want.”

I nod and head off the opposite direction she said. I decide to leave my bag; I can always pick it up later. Running down the halls I think of it. Pomfrey’s! Fake sick and go to the infirmary. Perfect. I may even miss classes tomorrow. I dash with Seeker-like speed to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey opens the doors and frowns at me. Thankful that my face is flushed from running I smile weakly and tell her my hastily made up tale. She seems to believe me and tells me to lie down on the furthest bed.

I do and fall asleep immediately; though my dreams are troubled.


“James! Sirius! Remus! Lily! How are you? ’s been too long, too long by far!” Hagrid says. He’s younger and more jovial I notice. He opens his warm cottage and ushers us inside.

The one that looks exactly like Harry takes my hand and pulls me into his lap, giving my thigh a squeeze and smiling at me. I find myself pecking him on the cheek and smiling up at him.

“That’s enough you two!” the one I think is Sirius Black says. “Unless you’re willing to share, Lils.”

I giggle and say, “Not now, Jamie will get jealous if he knows about us!”

Hagrid lets out a sharp laugh and brings us all some tea. It tastes horrid, but it always tastes horrid and I smile.

“So,” Hagrid says, “what are you all doing invading the campus during the summer? You graduated last year; you can’t have missed us that much.”

“Oh, but we have, Hagrid,” I say warmly. “We have missed you. I just wanted to invite you in person.”

Hagrid raises an eye and James continues, grabbing my hand. “Lily is pregnant. And we’re getting married. Next month, January twelfth. We want you to come.”

The huge giant’s eyes filled with tears. Great wet gobs of water fell into his beard and he picked up me and James and squeezed us tightly before letting us go quickly. “Sorry Lily! I didn’t mean it!”

I smile at him. Then I put my hand on his shoulders and bring him down so I can kiss his cheek. “Its okay, Hagrid.”

“An’ which one o’ you will be the best man?” he asks still teary.

“Both,” James answers. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

“Is Dumbledore marryin’ you?” Hagrid says. “Because I know he would if –”

“Yes,” James and I say at the same time. He smiles and kisses me on the nose.

“Ginny,” some one says. “Ginny.” I frown but I don’t...I mean Lily doesn’t. I feel myself leaving the happy people, slowly things become shadowy and blurry. I rub my eyes and open them.

“Ginny…”


I’m awake and I look around me confused and dazed. The sun is shining and my window’s open. I’m still in the infirmary. I look around and see Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting around my bed. Ron is holding Hermione’s hand and I frown. They are just too perfect.

“Ginny?” Harry asks. “Are you feeling well? Did you catch something during the game?”

I look around me once again and frown. “I’m – I’m feeling better,” I reply cautiously.

“Well, good,” Hermione says. “You’ve only been in here five days. Madam Pomfrey was about to send for another mediwitch to come and look at you.”

“I was!” I practically screech. “I mean – I wasn’t that sick! I – I don’t understand! Five days, are you sure?”

They all look at me like I’m mad but I don’t mind. I wasn’t even sick when I came into the damn infirmary. Weird!

“Well you were acting rather strange at the Quidditch match,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I didn’t know what you were doing when you were just sittinere ere with the Quaffle.”

I wanted to say I didn’t either but I held my tongue. “Where’s Colin?” I ask suspiciously.

Ron and Harry both blush and Hermione clears her throat. “Harry, Ron. Do you think you could...”

“Yes,” they say quickly. Then they get up off the bed and scurry out of the room.

“What happened?” I ask wearily. Hermione gives me a look of pity and a bit of embarrassment.

“Gin, sometimes guys are rather insensitive and they can be real...they can be pains in the ass,” she says. I can tell she’s dancing around something so I listen carefully and with an open mind. “And I know that Colin probably wasn’t like that while you two were...were...”

Then it dawns on me. “That bastard dumped me.” I state this. I don’t ask it.

“Oh, Gin,” she says in a sobbing voice. “I’m so sorry! I –”

“No,” I stop her. “I’m fine. Really. It’s a shame he was in in Gryffindor though. He should have told me himself. Is there...another person.”

At this Hermione bites her lip. “I really...I don’t know. I could be mistaken –”

“Who?” I ask sternly using the voice my mother does. I’ve had a lot of practice.

Hermione shifts in her seat and says. “I’m sure you’re really tired and need some more rest...” she looks at me hopefully and I stare her down. “It’s Gloria Welder.”

I look at her with a straight face. “My room mate.”

She nods. I take a big breath and let it out slowly. “Leave, Hermione.”

She does.

I sit there for a long time and just think. This couldn’t have happened at a less opportune time. I mean, I needed a bit of support and Colin suppsupposed to be there for me. Not be there for my room mate and the person I once believed was my good friend. I was in to my eyebrows in something though I didn’t know what.

I sigh and lean back in my bed. Tears prick in my eyes. Not only because I was just dumped, but because I felt alone and confused. I didn’t know what was going on and it was driving me insane. I’m convinced that the dreams I’d had weren’t normal dreams. They were just so...real. They had substance that dreams lacked, they had feeling that dreams were without. Those...whatever I had meant something, were trying to tell me something.

I sigh again and Madam Pomfrey comes in and checks me out. She doesn’t say anything but she looks worried.


A week later I’m let out of the infirmary. Thank the gods for that; I was dying in there. Boredom and more boredom. But now I had to face Colin and Gloria. I wasn’t particularly happy with either of them, but boredom had dulled my feelings a bit. They were lucky. I wasn’t going to say anything. I wasn’t even going to look at either of them. I was going to go about my daily business like it never happened. I wonder if Colin will even approach me.

I walk into my room to get ready before classes start. Gloria is already gone. Good. I won’t have to deal with her. I hate it when she cries because she gets all splotchy and annoying and high-pitched. I take a shower and look at myself in the mirror. I’m not ugly. Sure I’m not supermodel beautiful, but I’m shapely and I’ve got big boobs. I frown and look at my hair. It’s rather long and a bit too lanky.

Time for a change. I bust out the wand and crop it off. Short. I’ve seen it in Muggle magazines. The girls have their hair at odd angles and it’s kind of messy. A few charms later it is imitating the Muggle fashion and falling in different angles over my face. I smile and decide to wear a bit more make up than before, darker around the eyes. Not too much, I don’t want to look like a “scarlet woman” as my mother says. But I add enough to get noticed. I smile in the mirror, I like the new look.

I look at a clock and it’s almost time for breakfast.

There are a few people about the common room, most people are getting breakfast. I walk down to the Great Hall too and sit in my normal spot. I get a few odd looks and a lot of people whisper behind their hands. Ignoring them I eat in silence. I look up just as Hermione, Ron, and Harry sit down.

I frown and look at them. “What?” I ask nono fro friendly.

“I love your hair,” Hermione says quickly. “It’s very fashionable. I saw something like that on a Muggle, my next door neighbor actually.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” I say politely.

Ron smiles and says, “Mum won’t be too happy. She liked your hair long.”

I roll my eyes and say, “I’m sure she won’t. But I didn’t do it for her.”

Harry keeps looking at me so I ignore him. He’s been acting strange like that for a little while. Ever since I made the team that is. I look at him and he blushes. Then I turn to Hermione.

“Was there something you guys wanted? Because I’m really not in the mood for company,” Hermione looks sort of hurt and I frown. “Sorry, Hermione. I’m still a bit upset.”

Hermione nods and says, “Sure. Come on, Harry. Come on, Ron.”

Like always, they follow. I often wonder who the real leader of the three is. Harry would seem to be the leader because he is the most famous. Then you’d suspect Ron because he was captain of the Quidditch team (and a damn good one at that) and people actually responded well to him. You’d not think it was Hermione, but I do. She lets them get away with things, lets them drag her places. But who is the person who is in the back ground monitoring them, making sure they don’t do anything too stupid? It’s Hermione.

I get up as breakfast ends and I head out to my first class, charms with Flitwick. I’m not thrilled because I sit next to Gloria in that class. I’ll sit with a Hufflepuff this class; they’re too nice to turn me away.

“Ginny!” I stop. That is Colin. I inhale deeply and let it out. Turning around with an expressionless face I look at him. He’s holding Gloria’s hand and quickly drops it. Everyone has come to watch now. Oh joyful, joyful.

He blushes and whispers something to Gloria and she leaves. “Ginny,” he says kindly as he walks over. “I’m –”

“Sorry?” I fill in for him in a stony voice. “Sorry? I’m sorry too, Colin Creevey. I thought you were a Gryffindor. Or at least Gryffindor enough to dump me in person.”

“Ginny,” he says in a painful voice. “Let’s go somewhere else and talk.”

I look around and spread my hands. “You mean all these people bother you, Colin? Well then, let’s start making YOU comfortable!”

“That isn’t –”

“What you mean,” I say. I’m angrier than I realize and it feels good to vent. Especially when he turns that pale color. I realize he’s afraid. “I know. Why don’t I tell you what you mean, because you obviously think with something below the belt and not with your mind. Not that your brain is capable of making such a complex decision as Gloria or Ginny! You mean that you really liked flirting with me because I was cute and on the Quidditch team. My brother is Ron who is best friends with Harry Potter your idol and hero. You mean that you liked it when you could hang out with me in the common room and talk to Harry and maybe grope me a little afterwards. You MEAN I’m really a great person by you’ve found someone that makes you feel different and special. Never mind what I feel because I’m just the cute friend of Harry’s.”

By now Colin is close to tears and I’m still in a burning rage. “Gods, Colin! You’re pathetic! I can’t believe I thought you were an okay guy!”

I angrily stamp off in the opposite direction of my charms class. I’m too upset to think! I’m almost too upset to breath. I know I’m flushed and angry and only the gods know the real extent of my anger. I brush past some sixth year Slytherin whose mouth is open and I turn the corner sharply.

I’m so upset I don’t realize I’ve fallen down some stairs until I’m on the bottom and unconscious. Damn. My day can’t get better.


“Moody!” someone calls. “Moody! Alastor Moody get over here! Arabella’s hurt!”

I grip my wand tightly and rush over to the seen. Arabella is losing blood. Her auror robes are ripped and torn. I kneel down beside her and say, “Bella! Get up Bella! Mundungus is going to take you to Mungo’s! Get up!”

Arabella moans and her hand goes to her head. “Moody,” she says weakly, grabbing onto my robes. “It was Sirius...Sirius Black...he betrayed them.”

I shake my head. “No, Bella. Black wouldn’t do that. He’s loyal to the cause; I’ve seen it in his eyes.”

“Moody,” Mundungus Fletcher says. “I saw it. I saw it myself. He blew up that Pettigrew kid and laughed his head off. He killed...well we don’t rightly know how many he killed now. All Muggles though.”

“No,” I say disbelieving.

“Yes,” Arabella repeats. I know she isn’t lying to me, but everything...I’d met the boy! I knew he wasn’t capable. But then again, I hadn’t expected Morrison to turn...

I stand and nod. “Mundungus, get her to Mungo’s. Now!”

Mundungus puts a hand on my forearm. “Moody, Dumbledore will straighten this out. Just go see him.”

I nod and head off to question the Muggle survivors.

“Ginny! Ginny...”


I’m roused again. Sitting up sharply I find myself in the infirmary. Pomfrey stands over me with a wet rag in her hand. It is night and the candle is the only thing keeping things lit up.

I look up into Madam Pomfrey’s worried eyes. “I need to see Dumbledore.”