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Later on, it was not difficult to pinpoint the moment everything changed.

How the world tilted on its axis - changing the fate of everything. But especially one soul.

In the moment - it felt scary, but not anything out of the ordinary. Nothing suggested everything would change.

But it did.

For ten year old Ginevra Weasley - Ginny to anyone that knew better. It had started as a fairly routine morning. Once again September 1st had come by and left, and she'd had to get up early to feed the chickens - basking in the fresh air and just arriving sunlight as she got lost in her head. Chickens happily feeding away around her.

Once again she had been left behind - this time truly alone. Ron, the last brother she had to save her from the boredom and tedium of everyday life at the burrow - had abandoned her.

Oh, she had her mum, but honestly a year stuck with Molly Weasley and perhaps a few hours with her dad in the evenings, was not something she'd been looking forward to - as much as she loved her parents, she was ten. A silent night at home, knitting - was not her idea of an ideal evening.

Ginny was a mischievous, ambitious and energetic girl. Well used to picking the lock of the shed in the middle of the night and going for a fly - at night - since in Molly Weasley's opinion, a young lady should not perform such boyish escapades as Quidditch.

The benefit of having less brothers around every year had been a markedly escalating improvement in her flying skills, as she suddenly had much more time to sneak around without Fred and George poking their snoopy noses in.

Only her eldest brothers had any inkling of what she got up to, mostly because Bill taught her how to pick locks in the first place - and Charlie, once he got on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts - had taught her to fly, quietly over late nights in the summer - behind their parents back.

But Bill and Charlie were gone now - out of the country for their careers. And Ginny wouldn't admit it out loud - but she was dying of jealousy. Curse breaking and working with Dragons! It sounded more like adventuring than a job - nothing like her dad's tinkering with muggle things for almost no pay.

Fred and George were funny and irreverent and yet so wrapped up in each other that Ginny was on the outside looking in - always part of the family as far as the twins were concerned - but always a other. They did include her in their pranks sometimes, which was fun, but only made it sting so much more when they turned around and excluded her - or made her the target.

At least that had been solved - they didn't dare prank her anymore after this summer, when she'd stolen Fred's wand, learned the bat-bogey hex - cast it on George while the three of them were alone. And then left the wand behind near Fred to get their mother and watched the twins take the fallout for her spell - just another act of shenanigans by the twins, so everyone thought. The twins knew though they never threw her under the Hippogriff, and had even congratulated her on a well played plot - and stopped targeting her.

Ron had been her last companion. Closest to her in age, they'd both lamented being left behind together - both drawing closer as happens when you're the only two kids around. Even if he had a bit of a temper and was stubborn to a fault - Ginny could be stubborn too so she didn't blame him. They'd play chess, run around outside playing games, and build forts together. Ron had even consented to play as Harry Potter for her a couple times in a few games. Always saving Ginny from the imaginary dragon.

And now she was all alone.

She sighed, before a shriek pierced the air, making her flinch and drop the feed bag on the ground. The chickens happily pecked away as she flew back into the house. That had been her mum!

"Mum! What's wrong!?" She yelled as she crashed into the kitchen - finding her mother clutching a burned letter, tears running down her face. A Tawny owl, floo powder still on its feathers, the owl fluttering in the rafters looking put out at all the noise. It looked like it had been tossed unceremoniously through the floo, Ginny didn't even know you could do that.

Although maybe you couldn't, the owl didn't look happy…

"Charlie's been in an accident…" Molly Weasley mumbled as if in a trance. Desperately clutching the letter between her fingers, her knuckles turning white.

Ginny immediately turned to the family clock, gasping loudly, her vision blurring into tears. Under Charlie's name it said - Mortal peril.

Her mum jerked in the kitchen chair unnaturally - wide teary eyes following Ginny's gaze as her breathing came in quick, short, gasping breaths. She groaned, sagging in her chair as she saw what Ginny saw.

"Charlie…." Ginny cried, not knowing what happened but knowing it must be bad. "Mum, what happened to Charlie?" She demanded shrilly.

Her mum didn't answer, just stared at the clock for a minute, barely breathing, before she took a deep breath, "Arthur, he doesn't know…" And then between one moment and the next Ginny could only stare in despair as her mother apparated away - no doubt to go to the ministry after her dad.

Leaving Ginny alone, breaking down on the kitchen floor as all she could do was sit there and stare at the clock. The hand for Charlie never leaving Mortal peril.

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Ginny never got the full story once her mum returned with her dad, only through eavesdropping did she learn that Charlie had an altercation with another wizard near the dragon reserve - he had protected the dragons he loved so much. And he'd been cursed to within an inch of his life.

She didn't find out anything about his condition, if the wizard had been caught or not, what was happening or if Charlie was going to be alright. She was only ten and her parents refused to share anything with her. It wasn't fair. Charlie was her brother, she deserved to know!

What she did find out - was that she was being packed up and shipped off to great aunt Muriel for at least until after Christmas. Her mum was going to Romania to be with Charlie and her dad was picking up extra work at the ministry to pay for it - leaving no one to care for Ginny.

She couldn't understand, why couldn't she go to Romania to see Charlie as well? Or they could leave her at the Burrow, her dad would be home for meals and bedtime at least - she could look after herself for the rest.

Her protests were unceremoniously discarded without any thought or care put into them. Her mum side-along apparating her to her aunt's cottage within a day of the news. A hurried kiss on the cheek was all she had time for, for her only daughter - before she was dumped at the steps like so much refuse.

Great aunt Muriel had one look at her, sneered, and waved her inside with a wrinkled hand, "Well, in you go, Ginevra. Even raised in a barn as you are, you shan't be allowed to be rude and just stand on my doorstep all night, child."

Ginny openly gaped at her, Muriel was rarely pleasant the few times the family had been allowed around her - but she hadn't encountered anything like this.

"A lady does not gape like some Knockturn streetwalker," Muriel snapped, tapping her not so gently on her head with her cane, "Close your mouth and in with you, child."

Rubbing her head and close to tears - Ginny entered the Prewett cottage. Not the family manse - that had been closed for years since great aunt Muriel was the only Prewett left of the main family. Or so her mum had said the few times the Prewetts had been brought up at home - not often. There were some distant cousins but whether through not enough blood ties - or Muriel's personality - they weren't around, nor part of the inheritance debate.

Ginny abstractly knew that her mum had been a Prewett - but it didn't quite sink in how different things were, until she was shown to her room. Even in this small family cottage, the dark wood flooring and beautifully painted wall murals spoke of wealth. Draperies and busts of prominent family members dotted the space along the hallways to her room - and her room itself, it was three times the size of her room at the Burrow. And that didn't count the walk in closet or the en-suite bathroom.

"Don't get any gold digging ideas - you Weasley's aren't getting a drop of the fortune." Muriel sniffed, "I'm being charitable enough allowing one of Molly's spawn to stay."

Ginny gritted her teeth, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. Charlie might die and her family had dumped her here, she wouldn't be a weak ninny and break down in tears in front of this old biddy - she wouldn't!

Mercifully she was left alone soon after.

She looked around at the finery around her, the gilded mirrors, the expensive looking rug. She'd always dreamed about having more money - even if she didn't really dislike the life she had, her family was enough - but still she'd dreamed.

Seeing it now. Cold and unfeeling. She'd throw it all away for another moment with Charlie. Another moment with her parents.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

The first of many.

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To her absolute shock - Muriel had arranged tutors for her, somehow, even with the short notice, she'd managed.

To her horror only part of the tutoring would be about magic. Only a few hours a week on basic Arithmancy and History of Magic, as well as some basic theory in Potions. No actual brewing - just memorizing ingredients and their effects with each other and how to handle and process them.

Three days of the week were slotted fully for deportment lessons, how to hold yourself, how to sit and stand and walk, and how it changed depending on the status of the person or persons you were around. Ginny despaired as she was forced through lessons on how to eat and drink, her fingers receiving stinging hexes whenever she'd hold a goblet or a flute wrong. Apparently her posture had been all wrong too. Ginny suspected that Muriel would find everything to be wrong - and the woman did sit in on many of the lessons, making snide comments on her Weasley upbringing.

Ginny found it harder and harder to keep her temper down. If she had a wand - she'd have hexed her tutors by now. If not great Aunt Muriel, although she seemed like the kind of woman to send a nasty curse back.

If deportment lessons were bad - they didn't hold a candle to genealogy lessons. Ginny suffered through endless hours of memorizing the bloodlines of Great Britain up to ten generations back. At her vigorous protests, the tutor had snidely told her that the average pureblood child could recite at least that much by age 7.

Ginny bit her lip so hard it bled, but managed to hold her tongue and not scream at the bigoted moron who taught her. She simply smiled blandly and bent back over dusty tomes and studied. While in the quiet corners of her mind she plotted and schemed for ways to get these pureblood bigots back for putting her through this nonsense.

She was the sister of Fred and George Weasley - she'd find a way…

At least the dancing lessons weren't too horrible. Even if dancing with animated mannequins were disquieting - at least it meant she didn't have to learn with actual boys. Especially as all these pureblood customs and such she was forced to learn - would no doubt lead to such boys being Slytherins.

Her parents would actually die if they found out that Ginny was dancing with the enemy.

As a month went by, her time filled from the moment she woke, until it was time for bed - she never once received word from her family. Nothing from her brothers. Nothing from her parents. No update on Charlie. As she cried herself to sleep at night, at least she could console herself that he was alive. Because surely if he died they would have had to come get her or at least tell her.

The next morning, half-way through October - she was in yet another lesson on pureblood customs, her great aunt Mutiel sitting in yet again - her beady eyes watching, ready to unleash criticism at any moment.

Ginny had hardly slept last night, worried about Charlie - tired of her family ignoring her existence - tired of being forced through lessons no Weasley would ever need.

Honestly, when would Ginny ever attend a high society function? They were blood traitors for Merlin's sake!

Her tutor, a thin reedy man with a hooked nose - a minor pureblood with relations to the house of Crouch, once again looked down his nose at her with a condescending sneer. "Once again, Weasley," He mocked, before shaking his head, sniffing imperiously. "No wonder you're so slow at this, do you even have forks in that broom shed of a home your brood squats in?"

Ginny finally exploded, she'd had enough. Of holding back her temper - of being dragged around like some pureblood doll! Of not being able to fly or have fun, or be with her family. With a wordless roar she stood up, tossing the table to the side, overturning it in a great clash of silverware, and she went for a punch to the gits midsection - having no other way to release her anger right now.

Her eyes widened as with a boom of noise - before she could even touch the man - he was violently flung back, slamming into the opposite wall, cracks spreading from where the man was indented - unconscious. A great gust of wind flowing away from the center of the impact.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

She'd been so upset she'd used accidental magic - she hadn't done that in years.

Ginny bit her lip, turning to her great aunt, bracing herself for a thwacking of the cane at minimum. Only from force of will - and recent deportment lessons sinking into her brain - was she able to prevent herself from openly gaping.

Muriel was sitting back in her chair openly cackling so hard that tears were appearing in the corner of her eyes. "Excellent, Ginevra! Who knew you had it in you! There's some Prewett in there somewhere after all!" She cackled delightedly.

Ginny tilted her head just so - as she'd been taught, and narrowed her eyes, "He deserved it." She said haughtily. A hint of nervousness fluttering in her belly.

Muriel grasped her cane, and stood up, still chuckling. "I would say so, he's always been a bit of a ponce that one. Biggest Ravenclaw I've ever seen."

"You… Agree with me?" Ginny said slowly, eyeing her with suspicion, "You say much of the same things…"

Muriel sniffed, "I'm family, as much as I wish it weren't so some days. I'm allowed to point out your flaws - especially as obvious as they are." She looked down at Ginny critically, "Although less in one of you then I would have thought…"

Ginny sort of hated herself for how that almost praise had a faint blush spreading over her cheeks, the tightness in her chest, present ever since she tossed her tutor into the wall - lessening.

"Won't he be mad?" She asked, glancing at the still unconscious man, wedged into the wall. Not that she much cared - he was obnoxious and condescending.

Muriel scoffed, "He'll get his galleons, so he's got nothing to complain about. Certainly he won't be back to teach - I'll take over those lessons."

Ginny gulped, that didn't sound so good. She suddenly wished she could have her tutor back.

Muriel took a few quick steps forward and grasped her chin - staring into her eyes critically." Don't lose that backbone now, child. I think you've had enough of the boring details anyway, I'll teach you the important things. Family only." She decreed, before quickly moving away again, Ginny watched in confusion, wondering why she bothered with a cane when she was obviously strong enough without one. She winced as her great aunt thwacked her tutor hard in the shins to wake him up. That answered that question.

Now what did she mean by teaching her the Important things…

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The mood at the cottage had changed - as if Ginny had passed some sort of test. Muriel certainly wasn't pleasant still - but she now engaged Ginny in conversation. Asking about her interests and ambitions.

She even allowed Ginny four hours on the weekend to fly. It was on an ancient cleansweep - and only for four hours. But it did a lot in making Ginny feel more charitable to the lessons she still undertook.

Amongst the lessons, Muriel also started talking about the Prewetts a bit. Slowly and carefully, as if she didn't believe in even saying anything. Ginny listened attentively. Family she could understand. Family loyalty was everything to a Weasley.

The days passed and Ginny - while still missing her family - started to not overly mind her stay. Even if some of the lessons were still tiringly dull.

Then came October 31st…

It had been a normal day, even if she had no other tutors coming in for some reason - Muriel had taken the lessons instead and had been spending much of the day on rituals and ceremonies dating back centuries. Things Ginny had always thought were illegal dark magic gatherings - or so she'd always been taught by her mum anyway. According to Muriel they were not illegal - but currently not in vogue either due to recent events. The ministry not banning them per say, but not strictly approving of the practices either.

"They're as much part of family magic as anything else we do, Ginevra." She said seriously as they say at the dinner table after lessons. Her great aunt's house elf served them a scrumptious meal that Ginny loyally deemed on par with her mum, but certainly not better. Just… Different, more refined cuisine. Not better.

It made her feel a little like a princess to sit and eat slowly, these delicious expertly crafted meals, served with all the finery of an ancient and noble house. She knew what her mum would say if she saw her right now - but Ginny was feeling a mite rebellious. If her parents wanted her to eat Weasley made meals, they shouldn't have dumped her off.

"They're not dangerous?" Ginny asked, curious about them despite everything. The more she learned about ancient magical traditions - the more she itched to learn. This was so magical compared to what she saw at home.

Muriel quirked a weathered smile, "Of course they are, Ginevra." She chided, "Magic is dangerous - that's why we celebrate it, pray to it, and offer ourselves to it. So as to receive its bountiful blessing for our families. And for ourselves."

"You make it sound so… Magical…" Ginny blushed a little, she hadn't found the words for it and she had come out sounding like a silly child instead.

"Ginevra, dear. This is magic as it was meant to be, don't shy away from your awe. Embrace it." Muriel said, oddly gently. A tone Ginny did not have much experience with since being dropped off here.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their meal. Muriel broke it by suddenly slapping a palm on the table, giving Ginny a fright. "We better get ready, child."

"Ready? For what?" Ginny asked warily. Surprises from Muriel rarely turned out pleasant for her.

Muriel smiled wistfully, further taking Ginny aback. "I haven't been to a proper Samhain celebration in years - we're going tonight. Someone in the family needs to learn proper magic before I die."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, she nervously smoothed her hair, "What do I wear? What should I do? I haven't been taught about Samhain! What if I do something wrong?" She asked frantically.

Muriel cackled at her worries, making Ginny grit her teeth and glare at her balefully. She didn't see the amusement in having this sprung on her.

"Britty, bring the girl her clothes for the evening." She ordered, the house elf immediately popping away, just to return seconds later levitating a black box which she gently placed in front of Ginny on the table.

Ginny thanked the elf absentmindedly, earning a scoff from her great aunt who didn't believe in such things. Slowly she lifted the lid, gasping at what lay inside the box. Both hands reaching in and pulling out a dress so black it seemed to repel light, the fabric light and silky and with an otherworldly feel, small red rubies lining the neck and sleeves. "I can't wear this, it must have cost a fortune!"

Muriel smirked, "It was just one of many items in the family vault, Ginevra, gathering dust. Don't trouble yourself with Weasley compunctions." She grinned with delight at Ginny's glare for that comment, "It's yours, and don't forget the mask."

Ginny looked in the box and found a similarly dark mask, the fabric almost felt like liquid as it flowed around her fingers. The grin and sharp teeth of a fantastical cat like being staring back at her. "What is this?" She whispered, slightly in awe at what she held and what she would be seeing tonight.

"That's a cat-sìth mask - a sidhe born, cat like creature - Samhain rituals since the beginning of the magical world have been performed in disguises like this. It began as something to hide from death on the night where the veil between life and death is the thinnest." Muriel explained, looking at the mask fondly. "It continued on as a tradition as magical creatures are unnaturally powerful on Samhain - so taking their visage was another means of protection for ancient wizards and witches.

Ginny wondered briefly if this had once been Muriel's as a little girl - but balked at thinking of the woman as anything under a hundred and moved on to admiring the craftsmanship. "It's beautiful." She murmured.

"It's yours," Muriel said brusquely, not looking at her, "They will both grow as you grow, so keep them with you, just in case you'll celebrate the ancient traditions in the future."

Ginny bit her lip, struggling with her deportment lessons and her Weasley nature - before tossing the lessons aside and throwing herself at her aunt, hugging her, "I'll never lose them and I'll celebrate magic forever, you'll see!"

Muriel sniffed, pushing her away, and brushing her robes, "Well, I'll have to get dressed as well." She said hurriedly, getting up and rushing away.

Ginny giggled to herself as she spun around with the dress in her hands, hugging it to her chest. She might have embarrassed her great aunt a little.

If great aunt Muriel was determined to put some Prewett in her, Ginny thought with a mischievous grin, then it was all fair game to put some Weasley into her. Beginning with hugs.

She put the mask on, marveling at how even if it covered her entire face - she could still see as if she had nothing on at all.

She twirled around with her dress again. She couldn't wait to celebrate Samhain.

Not even once as she got ready did she have any thoughts on the regular Weasley halloween celebrations.

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Around 10pm Ginny was side-along apparated by Muriel who was wearing a similar looking dress, except more conservative and with a shawl over her shoulders. She'd foregone her usual pink extravagant hat, for a Nundu mask. Ginny privately thought the mask fit her better than a cat-sìth mask ever could. Before arriving Muriel had explained some more about the creatures. Their mischievous and dangerous nature - Ginny felt fit her to a tee.

Ginny looked around in awe as they arrived, they were in a large forest glade, and there must have been close to two hundred people at this gathering. "There's so many…" She whispered feeling slightly self conscious. These people no doubt all knew these rituals by heart - and she didn't know anything.

Muriel patted her on the shoulder, "Not to worry, there used to be hundreds of these gatherings across Britain. Because of the ministry - now they only hold three. I have a standing invitation to this one - a lot of the more traditional families celebrate here."

Ginny watched everything with wide eyes, soaking it all in as her great Aunt led her further into the glade. A massive bonfire was burning in the center of the glade, children and adults both dancing around it. Ginny could see thirteen stone bowls in equal distance from the fire - a furrow in the ground from each bowl and she looked up at Muriel questioningly.

"It's for the sacrifices." Muriel said, peering at the stone bowls. "Oh, they're still doing it properly, I had wondered, with these new times." She sounded approving.

"Sacrifices?" Ginny asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she looked around her, searching for them. The dark stories of her parents playing through her mind.

"None of that nonsense, now, Ginevra." Muriel said sharply, tapping her on the head. "Animals, not people. It's no different than slaughtering a chicken for your Sunday dinner."

"Oh…Alright then. Sorry." She apologized, blushing behind her mask. While she didn't relish watching animals die. She did live on a farm. A sacrifice to magic would if anything be of a greater purpose then a sacrifice for her belly.

Around the edges of the glade there were tables laden with food and drink, smaller fires were everywhere - groups of witches and wizards sitting around them chatting and drinking. All wearing masks and looking quite posh. Even as they sat on logs and rocks and ate with their fingers off wooden plates.

Muriel noticed what she was watching and chuckled. "Nothing artificial here today, child. We're celebrating magic and nature, life and death - the beginning and end of all things. Even our clothing is from magical beasts or plant matter, those rubies you're wearing - created by pure magic." She watched the circle of children sitting around the bonfire and gave Ginny a push, "Socialize, use only first names - it's rude to enquire about family names on Samhain - there are no blood enemies on this night."

Ginny awkwardly walked forward, feeling out of place as she gawked at everything she saw - she could feel the magic here. A new experience for her. It was like a tingling feeling all over her skin - a feeling of her breathing being just that tad bit heavier. A presence in the air.

As Hogwarts was in session only kids her age or under could attend this gathering - Ginny nervously approached, knowing that she might have future classmates in this circle - and her mask did nothing to hide her hair. There really weren't many gingers in wizarding Britain. Still her month of lessons kicked in enough to at least approach with a straight back and confident stride, entering the circle, "Mind if I join you?" She asked, sitting down gingerly on a log at the group's consent - next to a girl with chestnut brown hair and a dark green dress fidgeting on the log next to her, wearing a cat-sìth mask as well, although in a lighter color.

"We match! And where did you get that dress!? It's amazing, I'm sooo jealous, my parents wouldn't let me wear any jewels at all! Anyway my name's Astoria, what's yours?" Her squirming log partner fired off in one breath, hands waving excitedly in the air.

Ginny smiled, relieved, she didn't seem so bad after all, "My name's Ginny, and I think it's an antique actually. My great aunt got it out of the family vault for me."

Astoria bounced on the log, running a hand along the fabric of Ginny's dress all the way down to her knee, making Ginny blush, none of her lessons had covered that! Was it normal for pureblood celebrations to practically feel each other up!?

"Astoria, your sister will have a heart attack if she finds out you broke customs that badly - hands off the poor girl - she's no idea how to deal with you." A boy across from them, wearing an Acromantula mask said, sounding amused.

Astoria scoffed, "Daphne won't hear about it will she, Lysander?" She said threateningly, Lysander, the boy in the Acromantula mask, simply laughed in response. Astoria turned to Ginny again, giggling, "My apologies, Ginny was it? I sometimes act before I think!" She said cheerfully.

"Sometimes?" Acromantula boy coughed out, the group all laughing. Ginny giggled along, it was kind of funny - she never thought the stuck up purebloods she always heard about would be so relaxed and cheerful.

"No harm done, it's nice to meet you, why, we're practically best friends already - since you're getting so familiar with me." Ginny teased gently. Smiling underneath her mask when the group broke out laughing again.

"Deal!" Astoria said brightly, hugging Ginny's side, making Ginny look around the group confusedly. Unsure of what deal she'd struck. How had she even struck a deal - had she missed some hidden pureblood thing between the lines?

Lysander was laughing so hard he was leaning onto the shoulder of the boy in a Hippogriff mask next to him, "You're stuck with her now! Never give Astoria an opening - she's as devious as they come!"

"I'm not devious, I've just decided Ginny is my best friend now." Astoria said haughtily, her nose in the air.

"Do I get a say?" Ginny asked, bemused. Relieved it was something so silly and not an undercurrent she'd missed.

Lysander shrugged, "Sure, you could move to France." He teased, laughing as Astoria tossed a pinecone at him.

"She's been looking for a girlfriend her age for ages, she thinks the Carrow twins are creepy." The boy in the Hippogriff mask said, he nodded towards Ginny, "Well met in magic, my name is Silvanus."

"Well met in magic." Ginny parroted back, finding that she didn't feel silly at all saying it. It felt almost empowering to be so fully immersed in magical culture, her culture. And now she realized that together with touching her - Astoria had also broken customs by being so familiar and not using the proper greetings.

She smirked, if Astoria was from those proper pureblood families she'd always heard about - her parents must be driven absolutely sparse dealing with her. It felt nice to be hugged though, the warmth of Astoria against her made her feel a little less lonely. Having not seen or heard from her family. She hugged the girl back and just sat and enjoyed the chatter. Soaking it all in.

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Astoria soon dragged her away from the group - excitedly chattering the entire time. Ginny hardly got a word in at all, but she followed along anyway. She was learning a lot just listening - and Astoria was perfectly pleasant to be around so it wasn't like she really minded.

She was dragged to the refreshment tables and handed a smoking goblet of a burgundy red drink - Astoria giggling at her dubious sniffing off said drink before drinking it, it was apparently a spiced fruit juice, a thousand years old recipe that was traditionally served only during especially magical days - or so Astoria explained as Ginny carefully sipped it. Astoria gulped it down in big mouthfuls with the same excitement she had for anything so far.

The spices gave her a warm pleasant feeling that suffused through her, even as she couldn't identify what fruits exactly made up the juice - she was tickled pink by the fact she could drink straight through her mask like the fabric wasn't even there! Even though the Burrow had magic all around - it didn't have such showy or just cool effects as she's seeing here.

She'd barely had more than a couple mouthfuls of the tasty and warming drink, before Astoria slid her hand into hers and dragged her off to dance by the bonfire - a haunting melody had started to play, the fast paced melody the cause of frantic movements from the gathered wizards and witches. Ginny briefly noticed the small band of wizards and witches playing on ancient looking instruments, before she too was swept away in the excitement and heady feeling in the air. It felt odd having such a melancholy tune be so fast paced.

This wasn't ballroom dancing - and despite having no idea what she was doing - Ginny jumped around and danced - doing motions she'd be horribly embarrassed by if she was on the outside looking in. She could feel the spices on her lips still - almost burning, although pleasantly. Her heart was beating wildly, her hair flying around her as she and Astoria were lost in the crowd, both screaming in jubilation at the sky as the beat of the music played in time with the beats of their hearts. Fast paced, thrumming deeply, it was as if the entire glade was one big beating heart.

She was briefly aware of the animals being brought to the outside of the circle of revelers - gasping in shock and exhilarated joy as she felt her magic join with Astoria and with the wizards and witches around her - even great aunt Muriel had appeared next to her, joining her, holding her hand as blood raced through the furrows into the bonfire. Turning the flames pure white. Ginny's entire body was tingling, as the magic within her swelled. She was being swept away in the current, just following along, her magic euphoric.

"We sacrifice in praise for all magic, for the earth, for life and death and the cycle of all things." A wizard called out over the revels. "We honor our ancestors - our magic and theirs, never lost, never forgotten!"

"Never forgotten!" Came the roar of the crowd, Ginny looked around her as the majority of the crowd brought out trinkets of bone from their robes and dresses, holding them aloft. The heady feeling in the air turned more somber - the fast paced thrumming of the joined hearts of the crowd simmering down as if the entire night was holding its breath.

Muriel bent down to whisper in her ear, "Samhain is the night where the veil is the thinnest, dear. They'll throw the bones into the fire one by one and be able to commune with someone on the other side for a short while.'

"We didn't bring anything for that…" Ginny said, watching as the first wizard threw his trinket into the fire - the man seemingly in a trance for but a moment - before he bowed his head and stepped away - allowing the next reveler to step up. "It's not … Really bones of their family is it?"

Muriel chuckled hoarsely, "No, magic in this way grasps the intent - a full sacrifice is not needed on Samhain for simple communication, a gift of bone is enough, mind it has to be a magical creature or you won't succeed in reaching the other side." Muriel patted her on the head, "As for myself I have no one I need to talk to that desperately, and I didn't prepare one for you, as you'd not have taken it well to be handed a trinket of bone before arriving here."

Ginny watched in silence, the magic within her still feeling connected to the group - buzzing and swelling in crescendos - rising whenever a new trinket was sacrificed in the sanctified flames. The haunting melody was still being played - but at a slow mournful pace now. Matching with the slower more deliberate feeling of the magic surrounding them and connecting them.

Ginny shivered, it felt like something so much bigger than her, the longer it went on and the longer she felt it - the less sure of the world and her place in it she was. She'd been raised to believe something that now seemed to be false. Magic was alive - magic blessed them. She wasn't sure what to think.

It took over an hour for the communion with the dead to finish - Ginny breathing heavily by the time it was growing to an end, her extremities were buzzing, she could feel every strand of her hair, she tasted magic on her tongue, she could practically see it around everyone. The building magical crescendo of the night invading her entire being.

Everyone joined into a circle around the bonfire - holding hands, Ginny found Astoria on one side and her great aunt on the other and grasped their hands fiercely. Almost vibrating on the spot - she could feel the magic around them exulting in joy and grief and she could feel tears running down her face even as she smiled. Grief for lost ancestors and family - joy for their magic continuing on in them, the feeling seemed shared between them all - Ginny didn't even participate in contacting an ancestor and still keenly felt the grief and loss - as well as the love and hope, and the promise to continue on.

Without any ceremony or sign - the bonfire shone brightly like a star - before firing a beam of light into the sky, blinding her, by the time she blinked her eyes there was no bonfire in the glade any longer. She turned to ask her great aunt if that was it - when suddenly her magic surged, Ginny's eyes rolling back in her head as the entire group felt the blessing of magic upon them. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before - like being smothered in approval and praise, she could feel the ground beneath her toes - taste the air - see beyond the sky into the vastness of stars. She felt beyond powerful.

It was too much and Ginny fell to her knees, gasping for breath - before she passed out she noted briefly that at least she wasn't the only one.

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