-1Chapter One: A Different Sort Of Lucky
"Virginia! Virginia! Get up right now!"
"My name's Ginevra," called the tousled redhead sleepily, the barest trace of indignation on the edge of her voice.
"Her name's Ginevra," mimicked Minnie, like this was the most hilarious thing in the world.
"Shut it, you cow," snapped Ginny, scrounging around on the floor for her dress. Kayla, the washerwoman, had done the laundry the night before. She never quite got around to folding them, though, so the shapeless gray dresses lay in a heap on the floor.
At last Ginny found the dress (if you could call it that) that read Virginia Weasley on the tag, even though she had told them a million and a half times her name was Ginevra. Actually, she wasn't even quite sure of this, but she figured her parents wouldn't have been stupid enough to name their daughter after an American state, when they lived in England.
Besides, she had had the dream last night, the one with the green light and the voice screaming, "Get Ginevra and run!" She had this dream often, and she never quite understood it, but it left her with an unshakable belief in her name.
Tossing on her dress and shoes, she headed out the door, where they promptly formed a line, shortest to tallest. Ginny was last; even six-year-old Mack McThomspon was ahead of her.
Standing on her tiptoes, she attempted to peer over the other children's heads and see what they were having for breakfast.
"It's eggs," said the girl in front of her, Indira. "Cook told me."
"Oh," said Ginny. "Thanks…"
"Maybe if you'd have been awake you would have known that," said Minnie snottily from six places ahead. Minnie was not the most attractive person in the world; indeed, she reminded many people of a beached whale. Extraordinary fat, with blotchy, pink skin, she had small, piggish eyes, and her dark braids were pulled so tight they made her eyes bulge.
"Shut up," Ginny repeated tiredly, as Miss Royer passed by.
"No talking in the lunch line," said Miss Royer coldly. "I thought you would have known that by now, Miss Virginia."
Ginny bit her tongue. You're lucky, she told herself. Indira had told her horror stories of the orphanage she had been in before this one. They had starved the children, beaten them, and no one even noticed until two orphans died suddenly.
In Saint Mary's Orphanage, they didn't have it that bad, Ginny thought fiercely. The orphans were fed regularly, the food was decent, they went to school, had beds and clothes. No one had ever laid a hand on her. Not even for a hug, thought Ginny bitterly, and then shushed herself mentally.
Ahead, Minnie was saying something. "….poor thing. At least my parents wanted me."
"What are you talking about?" asked Ginny coldly, and the line of girls stepped back a bit, so the two could see each other.
"Well," said Minnie with deliberate, careful slowness, "I was just saying that I'm here because my parents died. They wanted me, you see…"
"What are you getting at?"
"Well, it's pretty obvious your parents aren't dead. I heard Miss Royer talking about it the other day, you know. Apparently, your mother and father-well, your mother was a bit, how shall I say it…loose and they weren't quite married and your parents really didn't want to take care of-"
"Take it back!" snarled Ginny, advancing on the larger girl furiously. "That's a lie-you're a dirty, despicable liar, Minnie Thomson! My parents loved me!"
"I don't blame them. If I had a child like you I would have abandoned her, too," said Minnie, and then she didn't say anything, because Ginny had punched her smug little face.
Minnie went reeling backwards, screaming, and then grabbed Ginny's long red hair and yanked it down hard. Ginny brought her hands up to Minnie's face and scratched her cheek, kicking her at the same time-Minnie let out a roar like the town drunk and the girls went crashing to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, kicking, spitting, screaming, pulling, punching-
"Miss Weasley! Miss Thomson!" screamed Miss Royer, wading in, and grabbing Ginny's elbow, yanking her out of the fray. "What is going on here?"
Minnie immediately burst into tears, and it made a spectacular sight-the large girl, tears flooding down her scratched and bloody face, the startings of a bruise imprinted on her cheekbone. "S-she hit me," Minnie hiccupped. "I w-w-as just-just trying to be n-nice and…" The rest was drowned out in a great wail as Minnie covered her face with her hands.
"Miss Weasley!"
"Miss Royer, it isn't true at all, I swear, she started it!"
Miss Royer looked at Ginny's unbruised, unscratched face. "Miss Weasley, why is it that you have absolutely no bruises? Look at the damage you have inflicted on Miss Thompson! I tend to believe, Weasley, the person who is heavily injured! It's fairly obvious you started this fight! The punishment room, Weasley-no, don't contradict me-" Miss Royer snapped, grabbing Ginny's arm and dragging her across the hallways.
"But Miss Royer-"
"This is the last I will hear of this incident, Virginia Weasley," Miss Royer hissed as she shoved Ginny inside the door. "I will not tolerate trouble-makers!"
"But-"
Ginny slumped on the bed as the door slammed shut with a bang of finality. She didn't have to look around to see her surroundings; she knew them well enough. The pale, pale blue walls and the white bed in the middle of it were always the same. There were no windows and the off-white door locked and opened from the outside.
At least there's a bed, thought Ginny. "You're lucky," she whispered to herself, and only wished she could make herself believe it.
"Harry James Potter, get up this instant!"
"Mum," he groaned, but his mother cut him off.
"Right now," she said dangerously soft, and Harry leaped out of bed. He loved his mother, but none of the Potter siblings were stupid enough to cross Lily Potter when she was in a foul mood.
"Yes, mum," he said, and as soon as she left he started grabbing a pair of trousers. No sooner than half a second later, his door was opened.
"Oi! I'm dressing!" said Harry, clad only in a pair of boxers.
The two boys sauntered in anyway. They, like Harry, had black hair, but their eyes were hazel instead of green. The oldest smirked. "Did wee little Harrikins get in trouble?" he said in a baby voice.
"Shut it, James," Harry snapped at his seventeen-year-old brother.
"Oh, we're scared, aren't we?" said the second, widening his eyes dramatically and pretending to stagger. "Harry's going to give us a beating, James, we better run!"
"Ben! James! Leave Harry alone," said an angry voice from the doorway. Harry looked up and there was Sara, his second eldest sister. Fifteen and terminally hormonal, Sara often shifted from Harry's protector to a complete psycho. She stood in the doorway, wearing a tiny T-shirt and a short pair of boxers.
"You're one to talk, Sara!" returned James witheringly. "We all know you're wearing that 'cuz Mickey Black's coming over!"Sara flushed a deep red and scowled. "That has nothing to do with Harry! Just stop picking on him!"
"Will you all get out of my room?" snapped Harry irritably, herding all three out. Being the youngest of seven had its disadvantages….namely, having to put up with six older, bickering, bullying siblings. Well, four now, he corrected himself as he threw on a shirt. His two oldest siblings, twenty one year old Chris and eighteen-year-old Meggie, had gone on to their careers (a Curse Breaker and an Unspeakable, respectively). That left James, Ben, Sara, Grace, and Harry at home, and this year Grace and Harry would be leaving for school as well.
Grace was the eldest of the pair, but they would be attending Hogwarts the same year, as Grace was born in January, after the birthday cutoff. Harry was born the following July, three months premature. This accounted for his slight, scrawny stature, but it didn't annoy him any less.
Harry threw on a pair of trainers and headed towards the kitchen. "About time," said his mother and Grace in perfect unison. They even looked alike-red hair, green eyes just like Harry's own, and a very slight splatter of freckles across their noses.
"Well, if the idiots had gotten out of my room, I would have gotten out of there earlier!" snapped Harry, sitting down in his chair heavily.
His mother eyed him cautiously. "Harry, you're in a mood this morning," she commented, passing him a plate.
"Well…" said Harry, staring at his eggs. "No one ever listens to me, Mum! I'm eleven, I'm not stupid….and everyone still treats me like I'm about four! It's sickening!"
"Grace! Shut up!" said his mother irritably over her daughter's chants of Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts, Hogwarts. "What, Harry dear?"
"I was just saying that-"
"GRACE MARIANNE POTTER, SHUT UP! I AM TRYING TO LISTEN!"
"Grace is in trouble," James sang, drawing outthe uh sound for a few seconds.
"Naughty Grace," said Ben, smirking.
"You shut it!" screeched Grace, her face turning bright red.
"When did ickle Gracikins learn to talk?" taunted Ben
"Is she talking?" said James, mock-thoughtfully. "I really can't understand. C'mon, Grace, you can do it…James. C'mon, give it a try…maybe we should start with something easier, right,
Ben?"
With a startling crash, Grace threw herself across the table onto her brother. Sara screamed, jumping up so suddenly that her eggs slid onto her brand-new skirt, and James' flailing arm caught Ben, knocking him over and upsetting the whole table. The plates crashed onto the floor, and their mother started shrieking and ran over and pulled her youngest daughter off James, as Ben swore loudly, causing his father, who had just entered, to start in on James angrily.
"GRACE MARIANNE POTTER! STOP IT RIGHT NOW, D'YOU HEAR ME? YOU BROKE ALL THE DISHES AND HURT YOUR BROTHERS! AND WITH THE WAY THEY WERE ACTING, I'M NOT SURE WHAT ONE I'M MORE UPSET ABOUT!"
Half an hour later, a frazzled Lily and James Potter had finally gotten everyone quiet. The dishes were repaired and the table re-set, and Grace grudgingly apologized to James, Ben, and Sara, and James and Ben apologized to Grace.
It was after that, when Lily Potter sat down, that she noticed Harry was not there. More importantly, no one had noticed.