June 1993

"But...what does this mean, Albus?" asked Minerva McGonagall, staring at the dead basilisk, and looking around at the Chamber of Secrets.

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts Wizarding school sighed. "It is, as I feared, Minerva. Voldemort is indeed fighting to get back to our world, and I believe he has found a way that will make it hard to defeat him."

"And what of Harry Potter?" asked Minerva.

Albus sighed. "I will give it serious thought over the summer, but my feelings right now are that Harry is safest where he is."

"With those Muggles? He doesn't belong with them, Albus. He belongs in our world," protested Minerva.

Albus nodded. "And when the time comes, I shall remove him from Lily's sister's house without delay. Take him and train him, so he'll be ready. Whether that occurs at Hogwarts, or elsewhere remains to be seen."

Minerva sighed. "And Ginny Weasley? What shall become of her, do you suppose? Possessed by Tom Riddle himself. How will she recover from that?" she asked, almost rhetorically.

"I'm sure a summer under Molly's care will be a good start. Miss Weasley is a strong witch, but she will, unfortunately, be forever changed. She may be useful in some way. We must keep our eyes on her next year, if only to appease Molly and Arthur," said Albus.

Placing her hand on Albus' arm, Minerva felt herself Apoarating away. In seconds they were in his office. The nonchalant way Albus spoke angered Minerva. How easy for him it was, to dismiss an eleven year old girl, who had been possessed by the most evil wizard known. How cool he was, to speak of taking Harry from all he knew and training him to kill, possibly at the peril of his own life.

"These are children, Albus, whose lives you're playing with," snapped Minerva.

"Our way of life is under threat, Minerva. What would you have me do?" asked Albus calmly, looking at her over his spectacles. He knew she looked on the children as her own, in her gruff way. Especially the Gryffindors, of which Ginny Weasley was one. He idly wondered what house Harry Potter would be in, should he ever come to Hogwarts.

"We need to protect the children, let them be children. Not train them, or use them," she said angrily.

"Life at Hogwarts will carry on, as usual. I've placed a mild Obliviation potion in all the student's food and drinks at tonights Leaving Feast, so no-one will have any memory of students being Petrified, or about the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk," said Albus calmly.

"You didn't?" asked Minerva, horrified. "Why? On whose authority?"

"Mine," he calmly replied. "Imagine the owls we'd get from concerned parents if word got out. Some might even remove their child from Hogwarts. I did what I felt best for the school, which is my right as the headmaster."

'Pompous fool', thought Minerva. "I don't agree with you, but what's done is done. Will Ginny Weasley be Obliviated too?" she asked.

Albus shook his head. "No, as I said, her possession may prove useful. Take her under your wing next year, Minerva. Invite her to tea, probe her mind, see if she's hiding anything, or remembers anything more about Tom Riddle,"he said.

"Leglimancy?" asked Minerva. "You wish me to break into a young girl's mind?" she asked, appalled.

Albus nodded. "Or I could ask Severus to do it," he said, smoothly.

"We all know Severus Snape's feelings towards the Weasley children," snapped Minerva.

"Now, now, Minerva, your claws are showing. He tolerates young Percy," said Albus, amused.

"We all tolerate Percy Weasley," sighed Minerva. "How young Ginevra, with four older brothers at school and in the same house, fell under Voldemort's spell is beyond me," she said, shaking her head.

"That is a family situation, Minerva. I fear our world is heading for dark days, like they were years ago. We must use every advantage we have, and if that includes using Leglimancy on Miss Weasley, well, I feel the end justifies the means," stated Albus.

Minerva sighed once more. "I must go, it is nearly time for the Leaving Feast," she said in relief. She stood to leave, making it to the door before Albus spoke again.

"I need you with me on this, Minerva," he said, forcefully. "Are you?"

Minerva stilled. She turned to face him, the worry in her face making her appear older. "I am on the side against Voldemort," she stated carefully.

"Good," said Albus, sitting back in his chair. "Very good."

Minerva stiffened, then turned to leave.

Albus Dumbledore sat back in his chair, stroking his beard. He glanced down at the tattered diary on the desk. "We're on to you now, Tom," he practically gloated.

/*/*/*/*

Twelve year old Harry Potter hitched his bag over his shoulder as he headed home from school. School would be out tomorrow for the summer, but Harry was dreading it, for it meant three long months of being stuck at home doing boring, mindless, endless chores for his aunt and uncle.

The sky was grey, and it was getting cooler quite fast; unusual for this time of year. He decided to cut through the park and go through the tunnels, just in case it rained. He saw his neighbour, Mrs Figg up ahead, struggling with her shopping trolley. She seemed in a rush.

Although he was in no rush to get home, he couldn't let her struggle like that. "Hey, Mrs Figg, let me help you," he said, rushing over to her. She seemed startled to see him, and then fear was in her eyes.

"No. You need to get home, Harry. Go now, as fast as you can," said Mrs Figg, urgently, pushing him along.

"What? No, I'll help you," said Harry, taking her trolley. Mrs Figg had babysat him a few times when he was younger, and he often saw her watching him when he was outside.

"Listen to me, Harry. Go home, run, lock all the doors," urged Mrs Figg, almost shoving him away.

"It's just a rain storm coming," shrugged Harry. He looked back at Mrs Figg, but she was looking at the other end of the tunnel. Harry thought he heard her whimper.

He looked beyond her. He swore he saw a large dark mist, blocking any light in the tunnel. It seemed to be coming towards them.

"What is that?" he asked, almost to himself.

"Dementors," whispered Mrs Figg, in fear. "Run, Harry, RUN!"

"No, I won't leave you," cried Harry, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from these Dementor things, that were gaining on them.

Mrs Figg tripped and half fell, dragging Harry down with her. He hurriedly got up and knelt next to her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Mrs Figg stared in horror as the Dementor appeared behind Harry. Already he felt the coldness seep through his body. "I'm sorry, Harry," Mrs Figg whimpered.

Harry felt terrible. He felt alone, lonely, useless. A freak. He watched in horror as the dark Dementor started to suck the very soul out of Mrs Figg.

"No," he tried to yell, but his voice came out as a whisper. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. In the distance he heard a dog barking. "Help us, please," he implored silently.

He realised he was now laying down, and the Dementor thing hovered over him. He saw no eyes, only a gaping great hole. The dog's barking grew louder, and Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. Then he head the voices-

"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and go." A man's voice, strangely comforting.

"Not Harry. Please, take me, not Harry." A woman's voice, loving.

"Stand aside you still girl." That voice was cold and hard.

"Please, have mercy! He's just a baby. Not Harry. Not Harry."

Then all Harry heard was the woman's screams, muffled only by the dog's barking that was getting louder and louder.

It hurt so much right then, Harry wanted it to end. He closed his eyes, waiting for it.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Despite his eyes being closed, Harry got a glimpse of a bright light. He struggled to open them.

"Stay still, Harry. I'll take care of you." A man's voice.

"-m I dead?' asked Harry, groggily. He tried to open an eye. "Are you an angel?"

The man chuckled. "Never been called that before. Hang on," he said.

Harry was dimly aware that the man picked him up with ease, as if he weighed nothing. He flung Harry over his shoulder. "Ever Apparated before?" he asked.

"Huh, what?" asked Harry. He looked up to see Mrs Figg's body laying on the ground, her eyes staring up. "Mrs Figg!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, we can't take her with us. Help is on the way for her," said the man.

"Will she be okay?" asked a groggy Harry.

"No. Hang on," said the man.

Harry felt like he was being sucked down a hose. He closed his eyes and tried not to throw up. Thankfully the sensation soon stopped, and the man gently lowered him onto a sofa.

Harry lay there, gaining his bearings. Mrs Figg, the black soul sucking things, the dog, the man. The MAN!

Harry sat up. "Who are you? Where am I?" he demanded to know.

"I've brought you to my family's old home, known as Grimmauld Place," said the man. "Here, eat this." He handed Harry a chocolate bar.

Harry studied him, he looked terrible. Thin, haggard and dirty. He reluctantly took the chocolate and unwrapped it.

POP. "Kreacher is here to help Master," said the house elf.

"Aaagghh! What is it?" asked Harry, backing away.

The man looked amused. "I know he's not the best looking house elf, but still..."

Kreacher glared at his Master and at Harry. "Master still has a sense of humour. Azkaban didn't take that away from him."

The man glared at Kreacher. "Don't ever mention that place again, hear me?" he yelled, making Harry jump.

Kreacher simply half bowed. "As Master wishes. Kreacher will be making soup for supper." With a pop he disappeared.

Harry stared, dumbfounded. "I'm dead, aren't I? He's a gremlin, and he just vanished, like, like -"

"Magic?" asked the man, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Who are you?" demanded Harry. "Why did you bring me here? Aunt Petunia will be wondering where I am," he lied. He ate the chocolate and started to feel better.

The man scoffed. "Hardly. Unless you're preparing 'Tuney's tea or something. Always was a lazy one, that one."

"You know my aunt?" asked Harry. He was, in fact, supposed to be making tea right about now.

"And that twat of a husband of hers. Only met them twice. Once at your parent's wedding, and then at your first birthday. Course, old Vernon didn't come to your birthday, just 'Tuney and her boy, what was his name?" asked the man.

"Dudley. My cousin, Dudley," said Harry.

"That's right. Seemed like a little brat, even then. Undid all your presents and wanted to take them home for himself, especially your broomstick. Not that they'd work for a Muggle like him," grunted the man.

"Muggle?" asked Harry, confused.

"Bloody hell, Harry, they did tell you about our world, didn't they?" asked the man.

Harry stared blankly at him.

"Did they at least explain about your parents?" asked the exasperated man.

Harry nodded, making the man sigh in relief, until Harry explained. "They told me my parents and I were in a car crash. They died, but I survived, although I got this," he said, lifting his long hair off his forehead to show the man his scar.

The man reached out and ran a finger down it, gently. Harry was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "It doesn't hurt much. A bit, lately. Sometimes it feels like it's on fire, but most times I forget it's even there," he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

The man dropped his hand. "I was there the night you got this," he said softly.

"You were? Did-did you know my parents?" asked Harry, half in hope, half in fear.

The man nodded, closing his eyes as if in pain. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, looking at Harry.

"For what?" asked Harry, fearfully.

"I should have taken you, raised you after he killed them. Instead I focused on revenge. I can't believe that damned rat got the better of me," he growled. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"WHO ARE YOU?" demanded Harry, for the third time.

The man seemed taken aback. "I'm Sirius Black, your godfather."

"My god father?" asked Harry. He had not been expecting that.

Sirius nodded, smiling sadly at him. Harry was about to speak when Kreacher suddenly popped back in to the lounge.

"Young Potter's room is ready. Would Master and the boy be eating in the kitchen or dining room?" he asked.

"Kitchen, I think. Kreacher, what's the news of Arabella?" asked Sirius, helping Harry to stand.

"She has been found and taken to St Mungo's," said Kreacher.

"Will she be okay? What were those things, anyway. Destroyers, no demons, er-"

"Dementors. No, Harry, I'm afraid Mrs Figg is just an empty shell now," said Sirius.

"It was like they were sucking her very soul out," said Harry. "I could even see it!"

"That's exactly what they do, Harry," said Sirius.

Harry stood, shakily. "I don't understand all this. My parents, you, Muggles, Dementors? I feel like I've stepped into the Twilight Zone," he joked, referencing an old television show.

"Tell me, Harry. Did anything unexplained ever happen to you? Did you ever get angry, and something nearby exploded? Did you ever feel different, like you didn't belong?" asked Sirius, staring intently at him.

"Yes," breathed Harry. "How did you know?"

"I'm the same as you, Harry. We don't belong in the same world as the Dursley's. No, our world is different," said Sirius.

"What is it, where is it?" demanded Harry. "How can I go there, how do I get there?"

Sirius smiled and held out his arms. "You're now living it?"

"Huh?" asked Harry.

Sirius smiled and handed Harry some more chocolate. "You're a wizard, Harry."

/*/*/*/*

That night, Molly and Arthur peeked in to Ginny's room. "She's finally asleep," sighed Molly in relief. Ginny had been plagued by a headache as soon as they'd picked her up off the Hogwarts Express.

"With time and love, she'll forget this whole thing with the diary happened," said Molly.

Arthur grunted, knowing Molly was speaking more in hope than anything. Guiding her away, they returned to the lounge, to listen to the wireless.

Ginny waited several seconds before opening her eyes, just to make sure they were gone. She was sick of answering questions, of being watched.

She rolled onto her side, her eyes focusing on her Holyhead Harpies poster stuck on her wardrobe door. 'Think of flying, of feeling free', she willed herself.

It didn't work, for HE was angry. Something hadn't gone to plan, and HE was angry. Ginny could sense it, could feel it, something she hadn't told Dumbledore. Despite breaking their connection via the diary, Ginny still felt like HE was a part of her. It made her feel dirty.

Ginny shivered and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. A lone tear ran down her cheek, and she angrily brushed it away. Tears were for the weak and Ginny was done being weak. If anything, this last year had taught her not to rely on anyone else. Her brothers hadn't realised she was suffering; when she had needed them so much.

Well, no more. She may be the youngest, she may be the smallest in her year, aside from Colin, but she would not be the weakest.

From now on, Ginny was taking a stand. She wasn't going to NEED anyone.

She'd learn all she could about defensive and offensive magic, for she knew HE was coming back, one day.

This time she'd be ready for him.

A/N Yes, this is one of those 'Harry never went to Hogwarts' stories, and is Ginny-centric. There will be multiple character deaths, and although it is a Hinny fic, apart from a brief meeting early in the story, they won't actually meet till later chapters, some canon aspects but obv AU. Rating is for later chapters