Honestly, how can one have 6 brothers and NOT turn out to be a tomboy?
It's not my fault that I don't seem to have any grace or so called 'femininity'.
I mean, I don't really mean to be so violent and sarcastic and stomp around like a monster in my baggy hand-me-down cargos, but what can I do?
If I was too soft, I would forever be picked on and bullied my Fred, George and Ron, in order to survive in the Weasley household, you HAVE to be able to defend yourself in any way possible, and that meant learning to swear properly, hex properly and be able beat the crap out of your opponent, even if it meant playing dirty.
My explanation for stomping around like a monster? Well, some of my earliest memories was Ron being picked on by George and Fred for walking like a 'sissy'. He got hell for that and I promised myself that I would not ever walk like a girl, even though I was one. Hence, by imitating Bill and Charlie, I somehow managed to master a 'cool', manly' walk by the time I was 6.
As for my baggy clothes? Well, everyone knows about the Weasley financial situation, it was either take my brothers hand-me-downs or my mothers. The choice is obvious.
You might be wondering, 'hey, but you're a girl, shouldn't that have some advantages, they can't very well pick on their little sister rite?' Well, that was the basis of the problem in the beginning. Because I was the little 'princess' of the household, supposedly 'dainty and delicate', my brothers never included me into their rough 'boy' games that 'girls' just shouldn't be playing. Let me give you a little analogy here, when I was seven or so, I finally properly understood the rules of quidditch, and I desperately wanted to play. I had a small build, was fast on my child's broom and had a sharp eye, I was pretty sure I'd make a good seeker, or even a good chaser. I followed Bill, my nicest and most favorite brother around for a whole day begging him to include me in on the quidditch game in the afternoon. Bill was very nice about it and told he had no problems letting me try as long as the others agreed. I was elated. I really thought I was going to be allowed to play. Three o'clock rolls around and I excitedly run outside, happy that I made it in time to be picked for teams. When they saw me, Ron, the prat said "what's Ginny doing out here?'
'Bill said I could play'
'Play!' he exclaims,' you don't know how to play, you don't even know the rules'
I was offended.
'Yes I do, I probably know the rules better than you! At least I didn't hit the bludger into the goal thinking I scored!'
Ron went red in the face. The rest of my brothers laughed themselves silly, being reminded of that incident.
To cut a long story short, I ended up having a huge argument with Ron which ended with Ron saying "you're a GIRL and everyone knows that GIRL players are crap, the only girls on the quidditch pitch at REAL games are the cheerleaders, so you should just stick to being a cheerleader."
The rest of brothers didn't say anything.
My mouth dropped, I was so angry, he was being so sexist! Of course at that age I didn't understand the notion of sexist, I just thought he was being mean again, so what did I do? I kicked him where it hurts and ran off crying.
The aftermath of that incident? Well, Ron and I both got into trouble, but I guess my brothers felt sorry for me because they let me play quidditch with them afterwards. The main point of this little story though, is that it changed my whole perception of being a girl. They made me feel that girls were somewhat inferior to boys and I didn't like that. It was after that day that I in a way stopped acting like one.
The point of my 15 minute rant here?
I am trying to make the point that I am in no way feminine, I don't speak like a typical girl, I don't walk like I typical girl, I don't dress like a typical girl, there is no way in hell that I giggle or primp myself like a typical girl and well, most people probably don't remember that I am a girl.
In fact, sometimes girls shriek when I walk into the bathrooms because they think I'm a boy. No I am not exaggerating, it is that bad.
My brothers don't try to encourage me to be more girly either because well, while I am their sister, they don't remember that I am a girl and meant to act in a different way to them.
Alright, so you get the point, I am a tomboy. Why is it suddenly bothering me now, at the age of 16?
Well, this is the story, during the last prefect meeting; some flaming imbecile decided that it'd be 'fun' to have a Hogwarts beauty pageant, in order to promote 'school spirit'. The pageant was open to 6th and 7th year females across all houses and the winner was going to win some absurd prize donated by the school, 1000 points towards their house, the title of "Miss Hogwarts Queen" and for some godforsaken reason, a date with either the Head Boy or the Quidditch Captain of their choice. Seeing as the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw quidditch captains were girls, this left only Harry Potter (Head Boy) Ronald Weasley (Quidditch captain and my brother) or Draco Malfoy, who was unfortunately but not surprisingly Slytherins Quidditch Captain.
Now I am not in the habit of noticing boys, but as I am not deaf and have to share a dorm with two hormone driven, vain, giggling twits who don't ever shut up, I do know for a fact that those three are 'supposedly' the hottest boys in school.
Why anyone would find someone who's four eyed and scar faced, or red haired, gangly and freckled or even worse, a ferret faced albino attractive I don't know but that's their opinion.
I am not disagreeing that a beauty pageant isn't going to be fun or won't promote school spirit, in fact, I thought it was a cool idea, emphasis on "WAS", until some bloody, sodding idiot nominated ME.
Yes, ME, Virginia Mollinea Weasley. Perhaps somebody thought it'd be a good joke or it'd be funny to nominate the school tomboy but that GIT faced idiot must have forgotten that once nominated and seconded, the nominee couldn't back out.
Which puts me into this absolutely shit predicament.
I mean, who the bloody hell wants to see me in a bikini? Do I look like I can even walk like a girl, much less walk gracefully in heels? I am like the worst nominee that anyone could nominate, hell even George or Fred, could act like a better girl.
When I find out who nominated me, there would be hell to pay.
