#I think I manifested something because I was eerily possessed to make this just hours before the incident

[firestia]

Lisia fanart 🩵🩵🩵

[blizzweirdo]

“No Omen, No Country’s Cause” Ch. 11

Sorry this is late, y’all. I became suddenly ill this weekend, and I’m still pretty x_x Hopefully this chapter is not weird because of it. I wanted this chapter to be dual perspective, but it just didn’t happen. This chapter follows Marín as she inadvertently discovers Nova’s mission and defends the Tyrador system against the UED, Stukov, and the Tal’darim.

Marín couldn’t sleep. In the darkness of her quarters, she laid staring at the grey, metallic ceiling above her. She tried to count the rivets to calm her mind, but she kept going back to the battle ahead and the plans, and choices they had made. Marín was still disheartened by their decision to not help Stukov. Asking for help from Artanis and Vorazun would even the odds, but they would need extra time for the evacuations of both Tyrador IX and VIII, and Stukov’s help would increase the UED’s momentum. Other than the protoss, nothing had really changed on their side. Her fleet had been able to replace what they had lost (and were working to add to the fleet), but the Republic had not—they had lost a lot of their production when Tarsonis was captured. The shadowy Moebius Corp. was the only fleet that had increased its number, pulling resources from somewhere beyond Umojan and Republic territories. Marín had encountered possessed Moebius troops during the End War. Controlled and abandoned by Amon, those who hadn’t died had been left to the Void. But Valerian still owned the laboratories and had a majority share in the company. He quietly began recruiting again when the dust settled—another sketchy detail that had been exposed by her government, the Umojans. With such mercurial allies and unpredictable enemies, the battle for the Tyrador system left her uneasy.

     Marín looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was three hours before she was due on the bridge. She decided she would go ahead and get up. She slipped quietly out of bed, trying not to disturb Vermaak who slumbered next to her. His sleep was untroubled by worry; he was steadfast in his duty and unquestioning of his orders in a way that she was not. Snoring like the engine of his vulture, he didn’t even move as she grabbed a uniform from the cabinet, dressed quietly in the bathroom, grabbed her datapad, and left.

     As she neared the lift to the bridge, she found herself going back over Stukov’s extraction plan and the information he had included about his son—what he looked like and where he was being held. Stukov had identified a crucial weakness in the carriers which could be exploited in other ways, and even an abortive attempt would have most likely put him on their side. She had toyed with going slightly rogue and assembling a rescue herself with those loyal to her—Ahlberg, Barre, Jansa—but if any of them were lost because of it, she couldn’t live with herself. Disobeying Augustin was also something that she was loathe to do.

     The night bridge crew greeted her with surprise. She told them that nothing was wrong; she was just going to her office—but then she was distracted by what the bridge crew was watching. Projected holographically was a field of thousands of golden orbs, glistening in the light of Tyrador’s distant star.

     “Is that the protoss minefield?”

     “Yes,” a commander on the watch said, “the last few are being set now.”

     “This is Karax, phasesmith to the Golden Armada. The last mines are away. Initiating shadow mode.” The globes disappeared in a wave of gossamer colors as if they had never been there. Marin stood staring, trying to pick them out against the dark of space. But she of course could not. The orbs were undetectable

     Marín had always been in awe of the protoss and their technology. Umoja had always been slightly more advanced than the other terran colonies, but the protoss made them all look like Neanderthals. And despite the Olympian task they had undertaken—enclosing both planets with a self-replicating shield of mines—they were ahead of schedule. Marín walked into her office and sat down at her desk, pulling up all the Core Fleet requisitions for the battled ahead. It didn’t hurt to make sure that there were no mistakes. She thumbed through them, page by page. But then she stopped; something wasn’t right. Among the orders was one for her wraith—and not for her use. She didn’t normally even submit a requisition for it; it wasn’t even in the normal manifest. The authorization code that had been used was hers, but there was no pilot attached. Her wraith was set to be prepped and launched in thirty minutes—before both she and Jansa were on duty.

     Marín activated the comm unit on her desk to see if she could get in touch with the engineer that was slated to oversee the hangar at that time. There was no response. A feeling of foreboding set in, and she wasn’t sure why. It was most likely a mistake. A weird one, but a mistake. Someone missed a digit somewhere—or I did—and the wrong bird was pulled. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that multiple mistakes would have had to have been made for something like this to happen, which made it very unlikely that it had been an accident.

     She called Jansa in her quarters. The comm rang more than a dozen times before Jansa answered. When she did, it was obvious that Marín had woken her. Her light-blond, curly hair that was usually trussed into a tight bun, radiated from her round face like a halo from a medieval Earth painting.

     “Do you know what time it is?” Dani said grumpily.

     “Is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?” Marín said sarcastically.

     “Do you know what time it is, Admiral?”

     “That’s better… You know anything about someone else needing to fly my wraith?” Dani looked at her drowsily, not really fully comprehending what she was saying.”

     “No…”

     “There’s a requisition in for it, and I didn’t place it. Will you meet me in the hangar? It’s slated to leave in twenty-five minutes.”

     “What?” She said, still confused. “Okay? I’ll… I’ll be down there in a minute. I gotta… get on pants.”

     “Yes, that’d be a good idea. See you in five?”

     “Eh. Yeah.”

     Jansa ended the call. Marín stood to walk to the door, but she hesitated. Thinking better of it, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and took out her stun pistol, affixing it to her belt. She wasn’t sure what she would find when she got there, but she didn’t want to be caught by surprise.

     Marín met Jansa outside the hangar. Jansa hadn’t taken the time to pull back her hair. It bobbed as she jogged down the hallway. She finished fastening her coveralls as she stood next to Marín.

     “Show me this requisition order.” Marín handed Jansa her datapad. Jansa looked at the order. “That’s your authorization code. But no pilot? How would you even make an order like that in the database? It shouldn’t let you.”

     “I know. That’s what I thought.”

     Marín and Jansa walked into the hangar bay. It was still early, and so it was eerily quiet.

     “Who’s on duty right now?” Marín asked.

     “Uh, Erik, I think. Let’s see who’s in the shack.”

     The shack was what Jansa called her office, which was a large shipping container that she had converted for her use and shared with the other engineers. Jansa entered, followed by Marín. There were shelves lining either side of the windowless room with random parts and scrap stuffed into every inch. Cables hung from above and everything was covered in oil.

     “You know, you could get someone to clean in here. We have people who do that.”

     “I did!” Their camaraderie was interrupted by Jansa’s yelp of surprise. On the floor behind her desk was Erik, her night subordinate. He was out cold. Marín checked his pulse.

     “He’s breathing. His pulse seems fine. He doesn’t look injured…”

     “I’m going to call a med—”

     There was a sudden crash from outside in the hangar. Both women instinctively crouched down lower.

     “What was that?” Jansa whispered.

     “Do you have a surveillance feed?”

     Jansa quietly stepped over Erik and pulled up the hangar’s security feed on her console. The perspective flipped a few times before it landed on Marín’s wraith. A tall, blonde woman in the uniform of a Terran Republic ghost was preparing to board it. She was stooping over to pick up her rifle and lean it against the wraith again. It must have fallen over. The wraith was not on the path of the launch rack yet and was still resting on its docking supports.

     “Do you recognize--?”

     “No idea who that is. You stay here. I’m going to go find out.”

     Marin took her pistol from her belt and slowly and quietly made her way out of the shack. She crept towards her wraith, ducking behind liberators, banshees, and tanks while keeping in line of sight of her wraith. Carefully, she inched forward, making sure to keep an eye on the ghost. If she didn’t, the woman could cloak and get the best of her. Between them was the rack’s deep-set track, yellow “DO NOT STAND” sings on either side of it. The woman continued to place items in the wraith—grenades and other armaments, she realized—until Marín was a few meters from her. She raised her pistol.

     “Hands up! Put your hands where I can see them!”

     The woman’s shoulder’s slumped, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

     “You Umojans sure are a nuisance.”

     “I’m going to be a ‘nuisance’ to anyone who injures my people and tries to steal my bird. Turn around and face me—slowly.”

     The woman turned. Her goggles were down, but the coldness of her gaze made Marín’s stomach flutter.

     “Kick the gun towards me…”

     The woman deftly touched her rifle with the tip of her boot and pushed it towards Marín. It skipped over the launch rack’s grooved path in the floor and slid next to her.

     “You’re making a mistake,” the woman said. “I have an important mission. And I’ve been ordered to let no one stand in my way—even you, Admiral Marín.”

     “Why do you need my wraith? How did you get my authorization codes? I need to know now.”

     “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”

     Marín felt invisible fingers tightening around her neck. She took a deep breath while she still could and fired at her. The woman tipped Marín’s hand at the last moment, and the shot went wide. The ghost angrily stepped forward, tightening her telekinetic grip on Marín’s throat and taking her weapon out of her hand. Marín’s vision started to tunnel. But then there was a sudden rush of wind and a deafening roar—and the woman and the sensation of being strangled were gone. Marín took in gasping breaths and looked around. The woman was lying in a heap on the floor several meters away. The booster on the launch rack had engaged without the wraith and had hit her. Then the emergency brake had engaged because the hangar door was closed, catapulting the woman down the hangar. She should have been much further away than she had landed. In the seconds before the impact, the woman must have been able to telekinetically slow the rack. Marín heard Jansa’s heavy boots pounding the hangar deck as she ran to her.

     “That was quick thinking.”

     “I was just waiting for that bitch to step on that track.”

     Marín laughed and started coughing. “You call that med team?”

     “No…”

     “Well, call them now and tell them we need some psi disrupter restraints. Let’s get whoever this is patched up and maybe we can get an explanation out of her.”

     As the med team came in, Jansa directed them around, leaving Marín to sit on the floor and rest. Her neck was badly bruised, and it was still hard for her to breathe. She watched as they loaded the ghost onto a gravsled gurney, restraining her and putting a psi disrupter collar around her neck. A nurse came, scanned Marín’s neck, and gave her an injection for pain, telling her she’d be fine. Marín got up, retrieved her datapad from the shack, and followed the gurney to the med bay. Ahlberg, her XO, was waiting outside. His face was flushed as if he had ran all the way there. He had obviously dressed quickly; the asymmetrical zipper on his uniform jacket was unzipped.

     “I got a call… You were down…”

     “I’m okay, thanks to Dani.”

     The gurney passed by him as they glided her into the med bay. His eyes widened.

     “Is that a Terran Republic ghost?”

     “Looks like it.”

     “They sent her to assassinate you?” Ahlberg said angrily. “Did Horner do this? I’ll bet it was Valerian! What do they think they are doing sending…” Marín watched as his blood pressure started to rise, the reddening of his skin even visible under the short-cropped hair at his temples.

     “Anders. We have no idea why she’s here, and I have no idea what her mission was. And I’m going to need your help finding out.” She slapped his broad chest with her datapad. He reflexively caught it. “Go in there and get her prints and run them through the Republic database. I doubt anything will come up, but even a response of ‘classified’ will tell us whether she was actually working for them or not. I’m going to call Vermaak. I need a shadowguard down here.”

     “Right!” Ahlberg stomped into the med bay. Marín put her hand to one of the unbroken line of touchscreens that ran along every hallway on Umojan ships. A UI popped up on screen, recognizing her handprint. She opened a comm to her own quarters. A brief thought came to her: Why did Vermaak not come to the med bay? Surely someone thought to tell him I had been injured. But maybe not. It was logical to notify her second if she was incapacitated, but not “next of kin.” She hadn’t died, after all.

     Vermaak sleepily answered the call, shirtless and having just rolled out of bed.

     “Hello?”

     “Hey, uh, there’s been an incident down here. I need a shadowguard.”

     “What? What do you need a shadowguard for?” Vermaak said, his eyes narrowing.

     “We had a security breach. There’s a Republic ghost down here that was messing with my wraith…” Vermaak looked irritated, which Marín thought was odd. “She attacked me.”

     “She what?” he exclaimed. There. That’s the right reaction. He paused for a moment and sighed. “I’ll send Baze. Where are you?”

     “Med bay. They’re working on the ghost right now.”

     “Okay. I’m coming down there.”

     “You don’t have to…”

     “Don’t argue with me.”

     “Fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

     Vermaak started struggling into his uniform as he cut the comm. Marín wandered back into the med bay, questioning the doctor on call about the ghost’s status. She learned that she had a few broken ribs and a slight concussion, but that she would be fine in a few moments. As a precaution, they were keeping her heavily sedated. “Baze” arrived soon after. Marín was not familiar with any of the shadowguards on her own vessel, which was by design. She could make requests for their deployment, but they were under Vermaak and Oyaleni’s control. Even then, shadowguards would sometimes deny requests from them because of their own internal command structure. No one knew any of them on sight, no one knew their true leader, and no one knew their real names. He appeared in traditional shadowguard garb with a mask and breathing apparatus obscuring his face. She had probably seen him before in the mess, cleaning the deck, Or, heck, pouring me a pint in the bar. All of them live on the ship, and I have no idea who they are in their “real” lives—if their more mundane lives are their “real” ones.

     “Baze?”

     “Good morning, Admiral.” She shook his hand as he calmly extended it. All of his movements were controlled. He was short but lithe, his presence ominous in his black environment suit. “This is her? The Republic ghost?”

     “Well, we’re not entirely sure of where she came from, but her uniform would suggest it. I was hoping you could… Get something from her.”

     “I can try. She’s sedated?”

     “Yes, and we have a disrupter collar on her.”

     “You’re going to have to take that off… It will disrupt me as well.”

     “I can’t do that…”

     “But I can activate her neural inhibitor… Take her down a few notches.”

     “What’s that?”

     “The Dominion implanted most ghosts with inhibitors as a way to shut them down if they go AWOL. We don’t use them, but we also don’t brainwash our operatives, so they… Don’t tend to go rogue as often. I can activate and tune it to try and shut down her defenses. We used to do this if we got in range of Dominion ghosts all the time—but you have to get really close.”

     Marín considered this for a moment. She was unconscious, so it should be okay to take them off.

     “Remove the collar please, nurse.” Once it was removed, Baze pulled up a chair next to her bed. He removed a small tool from his pocket and placed it against her forehead. It buzzed slightly. The ghost’s brow furrowed.

     “I’ve activated the inhibitor. Now, let’s take a stroll…” He sat there unmoving for several minutes. Marín didn’t know what to do with herself. Could she speak to him? Was she disturbing him? She locked the outside med bay door and ordered the nurses away. Finally, he sat back in the chair. He shook himself briskly, as if waking from a deep sleep.

     “Anything?” She said. He sighed.

     “This is a dangerous girl. I… Haven’t seen someone like this in a long time.”

     “What do you mean by ‘dangerous?’”

     “PI of somewhere around ten, more or less.”

     “What? That’s…”

     “Extremely high. The highest, actually. Her name is Nova. The mission wasn’t about you. Something about the zerg? That’s all I’ve got. Sorry.”

     “That’s better than nothing.”

     “And you’d better get that collar back on her. That inhibitor won’t be enough once she’s awake.”

     “Thanks for the heads up.”

     “If you need anything else, let me know… And if you end up keeping her around…”

     “Yes?”

     “I’d like some time with her… Just to see what someone like that… Is like.”

     “I’m not keeping her on this boat any longer than I have to, sorry.”

     “Understood.”

     Baze left quickly. Ahlberg slipped back in through the door as he was leaving. Marín called a nurse in to replace the psi disrupter collar.

     “Was that… a shadowguard?”

     “Yeah, I thought one might help.”

     “Did he?”

     “Yes and no. You get anything?”

     “I confirmed she has a record. It appears to be Dominion, so she’s been active a long time. And, of course, it’s classified.” He returned the datapad to her.

     “Sounds like Horner and I need to have a little chat.”

     “You think he ordered this?”

     “No, but he has to at least have known about it.” Marín looked at her datapad. The UED fleet was due to attack in thirty minutes. She needed to be on the bridge. “Let’s get out of here.” Marín told the nurse on duty to call her if Nova awoke.

     Just then, Vermaak entered. She waved Ahlberg on.

     “Is that the ghost?”

     “The one that tried to strangle me? Yeah.”

     “Strangle you?” Vermaak said, more loudly than he intended. “Are you okay?”

     “Some bruises, but you probably can’t see them now.” Vermaak stroked her neck gently.

     “Faintly. They’re there. What did she want?”

     “My wraith? I don’t know what for.”

     “Why didn’t you call me,” Vermaak said. “I would have dealt with it. Security here is my concern.”

     “There wasn’t time.” For the first time since it happened, Marín allowed herself to be scared. The attack, she realized, would be something that would haunt her. She was used to gunfire, she was used to death, but psionic powers were something that were outside her frame of reference. They were something invisible and unobservable; they were something she felt shouldn’t exist like magic or the supernatural. But the fingers around her throat had been as real as if they were Nova’s fingers, her flesh-and-blood hand at her throat. Noticing her fear, Vermaak pulled her in and held her.

     “You’re fine. You and Jansa handled it. But…” There’s always the “but,” Marín thought. “You need to quit going off on your own. You’re the commander of the Core Fleet. People depend on you. You can’t go off in your wraith or walk right up to a ghost. Let your people handle it. That’s what we’re here for.” She pushed him gently away.

     “I had no idea there would be a Terran Republic ghost waiting for me in the hangar bay. That wasn’t me ‘going off on my own.’”

     “I know. But you worry me.”

     “And I worry about you. And you’re right. I have people depending on me. I need to be on the bridge right now, actually.”

     “Yep. Next time someone tries to requisition your wraith, you’ll talk to me, okay?”

     “Yes, fine.” She squeezed his hand, “I’ll see you later.”

     Marín left and headed towards the bridge. The UED would appear soon, but she needed to talk to Horner. Something nagged her as she entered the lift to the bridge. “Next time someone tries to requisition your wraith…” Did I tell him that? I don’t remember. I must have, she thought.

     As she walked onto the bridge, she felt ready to confront Horner.

     “Barre, get me the Hyperion.”

     “Aye.”

     “Oh, please bite his head off. Please, Admiral. That’s something I need to see,” Ahlberg said from the other side of the bridge. She shushed him.

     Horner’s face appeared above the holographic war table.

     “Admiral Marín, what can I do for you?”

     Keeping her face as neutral as possible, she began her interrogation. “You could answer some questions. Do you know a ghost… By the name of Nova? I believe she’s one of yours?” Horner went white and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “That’s what I thought. What were her orders?”

      “I’m… Not at liberty to say…”

      Marín could feel the anger rising in her. She had a lot of respect for Horner, but she had no time for him hiding behind whatever security the Terran Republic had hiding this mission.

      “You’re the president-in-exile of the Terran Republic. If you’re not at ‘liberty,’ then who is? Is Valerian who’s really in charge of the Republic’s fleet? Wait, you know what? It doesn’t really matter. Because both of you are in a lot of trouble. Your ghost assaulted a flag officer, which makes you in violation of our treaty.”

      The bridge crew started murmuring behind her. Barre looked on with rapt attention. He’s always been a gossip. He’ll get out the popcorn in a minute.

       “What? Who?” Horner shouted, panicked.

       “Me! You sent her here to steal my wraith and you didn’t think I’d figure it out? What the hell do you want with it, anyway?”

       “The mission… It didn’t involve you; you weren’t the target. You have the last working wraith in the fleet, and that’s what Nova needed for the mission…”

        “What mission?”

        “To… Eliminate Stukov.”

        “You can’t help him, but you’ll kill him? How was she going to do that?”

        “Nova… Was going to use your wraith to get close to his vessel if he got past the minefield. Moebius’s techs figured out how Stukov was seeing through our cloaking technology. She… made some modifications to it... Even without them, after your meeting with him, Nova thought she could bluff her way onboard… Her mission was to get on the Aleksander and take him out. With the new cloaking system and her abilities, he wouldn’t have known what hit him.”

      “So, not only were you going to have her use my wraith, but you were also going to have her impersonate me and squander what good will I had been able to build with Admiral Stukov?”

      “I wouldn’t… put it that way… Look, it wasn’t my idea.”

     “If it wasn’t, does she work for the Terran Republic or Moebius?”

     “Neither. Both? Mostly Valerian.”

     “Well, that explains a lot. I could think of a thousand better uses for a ghost that powerful…”

      As she said it, half of an idea came to her.

     “Look, I’ll recall and reprimand her. I admit… Valerian’s getting a bit out of hand.”

      “No, she’s staying here until she can answer for her crimes. And she’s in no shape to go anywhere anyway. We’ll discuss the ramifications of Valerian’s actions when we’re not about to battle the UED. And the next time you two rub what few braincells you have together and come up with something stupid like that again, maybe inform your allies, okay? Marín out.”

      She made a motion across her throat for Barre to end the transmission. Ahlberg started clapping slowly.

       “That’s just like the Dominion… I mean the Terran Republic. Just do whatever they want whenever they want and deal with the consequences later.”

       “We’ll just have to remember that when it’s our turn,” Marín said.

       “We got that on video, right? I mean, on the bridge recorder?” Barre said.

       “Yeah?”

       “I’m gonna watch that again later. Maybe do an edit…”

       “Please don’t. Okay, enough. How much time’s on the clock?”

       “Ten minutes.”

       “Get us a visual, Barre.”

       The visual feed above the war table changed to that of the “minefield” outside, hidden from view, and the protoss fleet sitting just behind it. Beside them was the combined might of Moebius, the Terran Republic, and the Umojan Protectorate. For the first time, she felt as though they had a chance. And if they successfully defended the Tyrador system, they could push the fleet back to Tarsonis, cut off their supply chains, and force them to surrender there.

      She addressed the fleet as she always did, and let the clock run down. Right on schedule, UED ships began slamming into view on the other side of the minefield as they dropped out of FTL. Karax had positioned them in such a way that getting any closer in FTL would be perilous because of the two planets’ gravity wells. Beside them, bloated leviathans appeared, and the flying monsters of the zerg. She knew that among the battlecruisers, infested ships, and leviathans was the Aleksander. And just hours ago, they had been discussing a peaceful accord. But once again, they were on opposite sides of the conflict.

     “Hold, everyone. Wait until they’ve entered the minefield.”

     The UED ships first started striking the mines. A few battlecruisers were taken out. A science vessel tried to EMP a small area but ended up EMPing a few of his compatriots—the ships were too packed together for EMP to work effectively and any mines struck by a EMP were replaced through replication by a neighbor. The zerg units held back, as if considering their options. Or waiting for something.

     Another vessel, large and dark, dropped out of FTL. Its black hull and the clutter of UED ships around it made it take her a few moments to recognize it—the vessel was a Tal’darim mothership.

     “The Tal’darim?”

     Gasps of horrified surprise echoed across the bridge. At the same time, Tal’darim interceptors began launching from the mothership, creating a cloud of destruction in the minefield. The rest of the Tal’darim fleet, starting with void rays, began warping in behind the mothership. And then, suddenly, the Mothership was gone. All at once, the Uhuru’s visual field changed.

     “Barre, what am I looking at—,”she said, then realized what the red glow that was taking up the entire holographic image was: the underbelly of the Tal’darim mothership. “They blinked right on top of us! Get us out of here!” Proximity klaxons began ringing, and liberators started screaming by chasing the Tal’darim interceptors. “Fall back!” As the Uhuru backed away, Marín’s hope for Tyrador began to fade.

[uprising-hqarchive]

WELCOME TO THE WIZARDING WORLD, KATE!

we’re glad to have you. don’t forget to check the current timeline of events, and send in your account within the NEXT 24 HOURS. most importantly; don’t forget to have fun!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME/ALIAS, PRONOUNS, AGE — Kate, she/her. TIMEZONE AND ACTIVITY — EST, I’m usually on most days and able to do replies every 1-3 days depending on what’s going on. I also tend to lurk on the ooc discord :) ANYTHING ELSE? — nope!

IN CHARACTER

— is that JESSICA CHASTAIN? oh, no it’s just GINNY POTTER. SHE is a 47 year old PUREBLOOD witch, whose occupation is a COACH FOR THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES. i guess that’s why her former house is GRYFFINDOR. she is prepared for the uprising, her alliance is ORDER SUPPORTING.

BIRTHDAY: 11 August 1981

SOCIAL MEDIA: @mrschosen-one

RESIDENCE: with her husband, Harry Potter

EXTRA

CHARACTER NAME —

Ginevra “Ginny” Molly Potter (nee Weasley) — the youngest Weasley and the girl that her mother had dreamed of for so long, Ginny was named for two strong women — her grandmother Ginevra and her mother Molly. In her name, she carried a heritage of Prewett and Weasley. Making the decision to give up her maiden name (especially after she was already a successful and well-known Quidditch player) wasn’t as difficult as Ginny had always imagined it would be — Harry deserved to have someone he loved who was alive share his last name.

BLOOD STATUS —

pureblood — blood status has never been something that Ginny cared or noticed about her own life; she was proud to be considered a blood traitor. There was definitely a certain privilege that Ginny had and continues to have in her blood status that she can tend to be blind to.

BIRTHDAY —

11 august 1981 — a happy day for the Weasley family; finally a baby girl to fulfill all of her mother’s dreams of pink and frills, though it became quite clear by the time she was a toddler that Ginny was more like her brothers than the stereotypical girl Molly had dreamed of. Still, a daughter was a gift, and Molly didn’t mind that Ginny cared more for playing in the mud than playing house.

GENDER & SEXUALITY —

cis-female (she/her), pansexual — gender has never been something that Ginny really pays that much attention to. To her, it’s all about personality and heart. She falls in love with people – the fact that all of her serious relationships are with men is purely coincidental.

FORMER HOUSE —

Gryffindor — there was never another option for a Weasley, nor for one with the firecracker and stubborn personality that Ginny had. She was proud to join the rest of her siblings in Gryffindor house, and it was clear from the start that she belonged there.

OCCUPATION  —

During her time at Hogwarts, Ginny didn’t think very much about life after school. Sure, she had dreams and passions, but her family was pulled into a war when she was fourteen, and from then on, her main focus (outside of typical teenage woes and worries) was preparing for the fight. But when the war was over and Ginny returned to Hogwarts for her final year and wore the badge of Gryffindor Captain, she was free to dream, and all of her dreams included Quidditch. Upon leaving Hogwarts, she was recruited to the Holyhead Harpies and played for them for many years, even through her three pregnancies, eventually even making team Captain. Upon nearing her 35th birthday, a terrible injury to her rotator cuff pulled her out of the action, but her love for Quidditch was too strong for her to walk away from the sport, so she took on a position as coach, which she still holds to this day.

MARITAL STATUS/SHIPS  —

Married to Harry James Potter. I definitely super ship hinny. I think they’re perfect for each other — Ginny is warmth and love that Harry grew up longing for; Harry is steady and rational where Ginny is fiery and headstrong; Ginny is laughter and light where Harry has known so much darkness and terror. Harry is home for Ginny who has always known what home felt like and Ginny is home for Harry in a way he’s never experienced. In all, Ginny is made of the sort of strong stuff you need to be married to the Chosen One.

But also, chemistry is fine too LOL.

FAMILY —

Ginny was born the youngest of the Weasley family, and the only girl. As much as her parents delighted in her birth and her family was tight-knit and warm, Ginny’s childhood wasn’t perfect. Their poverty made all of their children uncomfortably aware of a kind of stress that those with wealth never encounter, and it manifested in each of them in different ways. Ginny wasn’t ashamed of her second-hand possessions, and she never went hungry, but she knew what it was like to hide her desire for something because she didn’t want to upset her parents who could never afford it. A watchful child, Ginny saw early on what this poverty did to her brothers – Charlie and Bill were always so much older and already off at Hogwarts that it didn’t seem to affect them that much, but Ginny saw the greed and shame in Percy, Fred, George, and Ron’s eyes, a fact that only grew as time went on.

It was also hard to be the only girl and the youngest child – Ginny sometimes felt that she was always running behind her brothers, unable to keep up with their antics, unable to convince them to slow down so that she could be a part of the fun too. They saw her as the pesky, annoying sister, which meant that a good portion of her childhood was spent alone. But instead of making Ginny into a shy soul, these periods of isolation made her strong. She had a thirst to prove herself and a nerve that meant she always succeeded, whether it was climbing to the highest part of the tree to beat Ron or breaking into the broom shed to steal Fred’s broom when he wasn’t looking. She devoured books and longed for adventure, and got herself into many scrapes with her parents with her tendency to wander off and explore the world of Ottery St. Catchpole outside of the Burrow.

Charlie and Bill were the brothers she looked up to the most, Fred and George were her favorites, and Percy had a way of tenderness about him that was reserved just for her, but Ron was her closest companion. They bickered and fought, played pranks on one another and got into trouble when they took turns tattling to their parents, but Ron was always there, and close enough in age that he couldn’t force her away from his plans like the rest of them did. Ginny knew his heart better than anyone, saw his desire to be different, unique, special, and tried to prove to him that he was enough for her. Her parents were happily married and in love with each other and each of their children, and though Molly had a fiery temper (that Ginny inherited) and Aruthur a few odd quirks, Ginny couldn’t have wished for better parents. Though they were poor in resources, they were rich in love, and Ginny learned the lessons that her brothers failed to see — money doesn’t bring happiness, people do.

HOGWARTS & CHILDHOOD —

Going off to Hogwarts was a dream come true for Ginny. Every couple of years, she saw another brother (or two) sent off to Hogwarts without her, until finally it was just her alone at home. She loved her parents, but the Burrow was always eerily quiet without her brothers stomping down the stairs or bickering with one another. The year between when Ron left and it was Ginny’s turn was the loneliest year of her life, and she reread all of her brothers’ letters home until the pages were soft and worn, longing for the day when it would be her turn.

When it finally was Ginny’s turn to go to Hogwarts, she was ecstatic. Proud in a different way than her brothers, Ginny didn’t care that her belongings were all second-hand, and the way she carried herself dared anyone to mock her for her family’s poverty. Ginny had such a vivacious and open personality that it should have been the best year of her life, but a last minute switch on the part of Lucius Malfoy turned Ginny’s dream into a nightmare. The year passed faster than any other ever had, with large chunks of it missing, and Ginny turned in on herself, becoming pale and quiet. Her brothers should have noticed that more was going on, but they were all too wrapped up in their own pursuits to see that their sister had disappeared, to be replaced with someone who was meek and fearful. Instead of making a close group of friends around her, Ginny isolated more and more, until that fateful night when Tom Riddle made her lock herself in the Chamber of Secrets.

When Harry destroyed the diary, Ginny was free, and that summer, she began to regain more and more of her typical personality (though for a couple more years, she reverted back to shy and quaking in the presence of Harry). The next few years were the dream that Ginny had always imagined Hogwarts to be — she excelled in her classes, made an excellent group of friends, found that she was quite popular with the boys, and even made the Quidditch squad, proving to all of her brothers that she was made of more mettle than they gave her credit for. She took the brewing war and darkness seriously, but it didn’t make her turn overly serious, and she faced the future with a grim knowledge that she would fight until they won or she died. Once she had that knowledge, she didn’t obsess over it, accepting it with her matter-of-fact personality.

What Ginny didn’t plan on was falling in love with Harry, this time for real. The few weeks that they spent together were the happiest of her life — it finally felt that someone knew all of her and understood her in a way that went deeper than anything verbal. When he broke things off with her after Dumbledore’s death, she faced it with the same determination she faced everything else in life — she would always love Harry, but they each had their role to play in the war, and some things were just bigger than love.

Ginny fought every way she could in the year that followed — joining Neville and Luna in sowing dissension to Snape and the Carrows’ reign, protecting more vulnerable students when she could, rebelling against the darkness other classmates seemed to thrive in. When the battle was finally upon them, Ginny followed the rest of her family to Hogwarts, unable to stay behind and wait while they all flung themselves into danger. Ginny’s quick thinking and bold fearlessness kept her safe throughout the battle, but the horrors she saw that night changed her for good. After losing Fred, there was a seriousness about Ginny that she had lacked before, one that only comes from knowing deep sorrow. In the months that followed, Ginny did everything she could to hold her family together in the midst of their grief. She returned to Hogwarts because she knew she owed it to her parents to finish her education, and she enjoyed her last year of school, but not with the same carelessness that she had once known.

POST HOGWARTS —

It was a relief for Ginny to leave Hogwarts, to be able to be with her family again and learn what it meant to live in a world with no Dark Lord. Light entered back into her world, but it wasn’t the same untainted light that she had once known, and Ginny knew that she would always carry with her the horrors of that battle. Even if she could choose to wipe them from  her memory, she wouldn’t — it would be a dishonor to Fred’s memory.

Still, Ginny experienced much light and joy in these next years of her life. She was recruited to play for her favorite team, she grew ever closer to her family, her world began to fill with nieces and nephews, and she fell back in love (as if she had ever fallen out of it) with the man she wanted to walk beside forever. Eventually, she and Harry were married and started a family of their own. While Ginny kept doing the job that she loved, she found a part of herself that she didn’t know existed in becoming a mother. Her fiery temper and reckless streak didn’t disappear, but were partnered with a tenderness and sense of fear that became constant companions. She discovered that dueling Bellatrix Lestrange wasn’t half so frightening as having your heart walk outside of your body, which was what motherhood felt like for her.

The Potter family settled into a happy little life, finally free from darkness and fear, full of light and life and love. Little did they know what was coming to threaten all of that.

Current:

Ginny was not prepared for darkness and conflict to creep back into her life and rob her children of a carefree young adulthood, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t ready to fight in order to restore her world once more.

OTHER

Random little headcanons I have for Ginny

✨Ginny has a notorious sweet tooth; she needs to eat something sweet at least once a day ✨ Harry does most of the cooking, but Ginny has mastered the art of baking bread, and the smell lingers around their house because of how often she has to stick a new loaf in the oven after her family devours the latest one ✨ If Ginny had her way, she would go barefoot all the time, but since she can’t, she wears sandals whenever she gets the chance ✨ Ginny prefers muggle jeans to wizarding robes, and now that she doesn’t have to basically live in her quidditch robes, she’s most often found in jeans, a sweater, and her birkenstocks – with or without socks (she’s very hip in muggle fashion) ✨ Ginny is not a morning person. Harry has to lure her out of bed with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. When she has to be out of the house really early for morning practices, Harry wakes up to brew her coffee and then goes back to bed once she’s up ✨ Ginny doesn’t really drink. When she was pregnant with Albus, she realized that she actually preferred butterbeer anyway, so she sticks to that. ✨ Ginny has one on one tea with her mum every week, and always stops by her father’s work shed on the way out to see his latest project. ✨ Ginny convinced Harry to let them get a cat, and she promptly named it Minnie (after Minerva McGonagall, of course. Minnie’s become another member of the family. ✨ Ginny loves the ocean, and spent as much time as she could at shell cottage when the kids were all young. Now she makes the family go on vacation to the coast every summer. ✨ Ginny found that after Albus was born, she wanted a daughter just as much as her own mother had wanted her. When Lily was young, Ginny would dress them up in matching outfits and stick her tongue out at Harry whenever he made fun of her for it.