Ginny Weasley was troubled. She had a problem looming on the grand horizon of life. She was going 190 mph in the wrong lane. She was between a rock and a hard place. Why? Because dear Miss Ginevra Weasley was beginning to think she was not in fact a Weasley. Yes she had the hair, but she was missing something even more important. No, it wasn't the temper either (she had plenty of that). No, no, no; she was missing the Weasley Charm, the Roguish Air, the infamous Weasley Wooing Spirit. On this topic, Ron seemed to be missing it as well indicated by the fact that he hadn't made a single move towards Hermione, since the Rod Stewart Incident. A shame really, but on to her own more pressing issues.
She had at least tried, she really had for a few years actually but she hadn't been able to do it. She was forever humiliating herself in front of her friends and family and worst of all Harry. She wanted to not care but she couldn't. She had tried to move on and that too had failed dismally. She simply could not get the cogs in her head going and figure out a way to get things started. This was bad. She should have been able to, just take a look at the rest of her "family".
Bill had snagged and consequently married a part veela (whom were undoubtedly hard to impress), Charlie always had some girl around him, Percy (swotty little Percy!) had been with Penelope Clearwater for ages now, Fred and George both saw girls from the Quidditch team, Angelina and Alicia, respectively. Mom + Dad the obvious, so that left her and Ron, but even he was better off than her as he could at least say the object of his affections held some sort of… something for him.
Which left Ginny all alone in her misery. And her 'single, without a chance' status. All of her "brothers" had done it so why couldn't she? Because, she wasn't a Weasley. That was it, there was nothing more to it, and she knew it. So that left her in 'Single without a chance, or biological family' status. At the point in the proceedings it would probably be a good idea to write "Mum" and see if she could come up with a more satisfactory explanation or at least a reason for keeping her surrogate daughters linage secret
- - - -
Dear Mum,
I hope all's well at the burrow. Things here are the same, chaos
with a light dash of panic. The usual really. Actually I'm writing
because I'm concerned that I might not be a member of our, or
more strictly speaking your family. Events of late have made a
a very strong case for this scenario, the largest of which being
that I am totally completely and utterly inept in the art of
charming or rather wooing anything more than an amoeba. Or say
a chunk of lard. Porridge perhaps. Maybe you would prefer if I
specifically mentioned a certain boy with a certain scar. In any case
I'm definitely not capable of finding myself any sort of …
Anything. This is obviously a flaw in my genes, which no
Weasley has ever had , so unless you can think of any better
explanation, I beg of youto tell me exactly who I am and why
ever you let me live through this sham and mockery of life.
Yours,
Ginevra Of the Unknown Surname.
Ginny promptly sealed her letter and quite calmly walked to the Owlry to send it of using Ron's owl Dully noting that she had somehow forgotten to ask him for permission to do so.
- - - -
Dinner that Friday night was a harrowing experience. This was to be slightly expected as when 300-400 teenagers were in a room together, after a day of hard work things did not usually stay calm. There were always squeals and shrieks of laugher from Hufflepuff, Slytherin always sent sparks and spells flying across the room and bouncing off walls. On occasion someone got hit by one and had to be taken to the infirmary. The Gryffindor table constantly had to contend with shouting matches and the occasional wayward prank. Food always flew across the room from Ravenclaw table, after this was a school for magic. But tonight things were worse than usual. Tonight thing were horrible. Because tonight the headmaster announced a dance.
- - - -
As Ginny lay awake in her dorm that night, surrounded by what appeared to be every girl in Gryffindor tower twittering on about he upcoming dance and how odd it all seemed, she was forced by the tide of conversation to reflect once more on the announcement on the immediate aftermath. Dumbledore had stood, and after setting of a couple sets of sparks, had the attention of the school. He then proceeded with his message.
"In light of recent good fortunes- " his gaze rested ever so lightly on a certain green eyed messy haired, no longer scar bearing Gryfinndor.
"-The staff has decided that in celebration, three weeks from now we will be holding a dance."
There was uproar from the masses.
" As it will be a casual dance you can dress as you see fit, and the committee in charge of this event has decided that this dance will be in the muggle fashion of a Sadie Hawkins dance, meaning that the ladies will be doing the asking and the men will be free from the pressure of having to find a date-"
And with that Ginny fell into despair.
- - - -
Back in her bed Ginny promptly rolled over in her bed and let loose with a wail to rival a banshee. The rumble of sound in the room ground to a halt momentarily, until a one of her dorm mates whispered something in the ear of the girl next to her, Hannah Somersby Ginny thought her name was, and the both of them began to giggle. This returned things to natural order.
Within Ginny's mind, a countdown began. "3 weeks or 21 days or 504 hours or 30240 minutes to keep my dignity, not make a fool of myself in front of Harry again. Or anyone for that matter, and not loose my mind. On the other hand it could be 30240 minutes to finally prove myself and be the Wooing Weasley I'm supposed to be."
- - - -
Countdown: 3 weeks
Ginny began with the former, avoiding the hoards of girls that flocked in the corridors. And the commons area. And the great hall. It really was quite impossible. After a while, Ginny realized that one objective had already been done away with. Her sanity was totally lost. Totally lost…
Countdown: 2 weeks
She could do this. Not only could she get her date of choice, but also she would do it with out making a fool of herself. Ginny stood and walked out of her dorm and down to the Quidditch pitch. She could do it, yes that she could all she had to do was just psyche herself up for it and …
" Hey Ginny." Great now he was behind her.
" Hullo Harry…" Just ask him that was it nothing to it. Or she could do it after practice. Maybe at dinner… maybe never.
- - - -
Dinner, loud and crowded not the optimal place to vie for a date, but it provided a good cover in the event that she crashed and burned. Ginny sat down, next to Hermione (moral support) and across from Harry (keeping both eyes on the goal) murmuring her hellos and loading her plate with vegetable goulash. Silently she lay in wait until…
" So Harry have you been asked to this dance yet?" The question came from Ron who cast an impish look his sister's way. Ginny made a mental note the either strangle or publicly humiliate him later.
" Yeah but I'm not even sure if I'm going to go after the fiasco that the last ball was…" these words had an wonderful effect on Ron and Hermione; Ron became the color of a Gryffindor pennant and Hermione, who also blushed a much more becoming shade of pink, looked at her plate and began to eat in an almost Ron like fashion. Ginny giggled and looked up at Harry briefly. He too was laughing and his glasses glinted in the torchlight. He turned to face her and she began to smile but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection on his glasses and froze. Her front teeth were full of little bits of cabbage, spinach and other vegetable like accoutrements.
" Oh shite," she squeaked clapping her hands over her mouth. Never ever ever again would she touch a vegetable goulash no matter how good it was. Across the table Harry raised an eyebrow.
" What's wrong"
" Nothing, nothing at all, I just happened to be using your glasses as a mirror and I realized I have gargantuan chunks of goulash stuck in my teeth and now I'm babbling like an idiot. Dear sweet Merlin kill me now." During her tirade Ginny had started gesticulating wildly and now she saw that she had apparently slammed her fist into her dinner plate covering that to with vegetable goulash.
There was silence at their particular area of the table.
" Goodbye"
Ginny stood and left the great hall and found the nearest wall and smacked her forehead on it a few times and left for her dormitory.
- - - -
That night Ginny had a very odd dream. She was dressed and painted as an aborigine, carrying a great backpack. Harry sat at a table in a blank room with a red china plate in front of him loaded up with spinach and what appeared to be rancid bacon. Ginny tried to move towards him but her legs only took her backwards, so she thought backwards and move forwards. Finally getting somewhere she approached him, only for him to grab a bunch of pink and maroon balloons and be lifted away. She cast a frantic look around the room for another bunch of balloons and saw 60 yellow and blue balloons waiting for her. She grabbed them and slowly went up until… POP! All off Ginny's balloons popped and the shreds of plastic turned black. She hit the floor with a thump and watched Harry float away through the sky. She called out to him but as she did the black plastic that was falling all around her became liquid, like syrup and she was sinking as it sucked her up like quicksand. Drowning…
" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Come back! Balloons, I need more balloons… Damn this blasted plastic syrup! WHERE IS THE BLOODY PLASTIC STUFF COMING FROM!"
Twisting in her bed, Ginny awoke to the titters of her roommates. That was two more objectives down. Dignity- gone, Fool of Self- made, and even before that, Sanity-lost. She was at rock bottom. So the only place to go from here was up.
Countdown: 1 week
It simply couldn't be done. She, Ginevra Anne Weasley, was incapable of functioning properly near Harry Potter for any reason other than the completely platonic. To approach him with any other motive was definite suicide.
She had less than a week until the dance. Harry probably had a date already, and she had blown it completely. If only she hadn't chosen the goulash, of all the things on the table. Homework was totally pointless now. Ginny couldn't have focused if there was a blade to her throat and a threat on her life otherwise. Flopping back into the couch by the fire where she sat, Ginny stared at the ceiling wondering what the bloody hell was wrong with her.
She was still like this when someone sat down next to her, muttering conspiratorially about certain persons finally getting the point and such. It was a moment before they noticed Ginny who was so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed anyone sitting down next to her. It wasn't until a rather sharp finger poked her that she said a word.
"This whole dance idea is bullocks, isn't it," she said, not moving
"Annoying at the least."
"Well I'm sick of the whole business"
" I'm sorry you feel that way"
"So am I"
Ginny lifted her head and looked at whom she was speaking with and had to resists the slightest urge to flee. Harry, of all people in the tower… this was either incredibly good luck or a disaster waiting to happen. She settled back down as sat back and contemplated her next move before speaking.
" D'you think you could help me out a bit, you know since you're so very sorry for me?"
"What?"
"If by any chance you don't have a date yet-"
"I don't"
"You wouldn't mind going with me to the dance?"
" I thought the whole idea was bollocks"
"It is… but that doesn't mean I wont go"
"Ah"
" So is that a yes?"
" Okay"
"Alright"
- - - -
Later that night in her tower dormitory, Ginny was to be seen chattering along with was later seen giggling at a letter which had arrived for her during dinner, carried by what still looked like a molting grey feather duster.
Ginny
I am fine but I think something is quite wrong with you. Not a Weasley
you say. I say something very heavy must have fallen on your head again.
The fact that you even wrote me a letter like that is your proof. It may
never be easy but just keep going at it trust me, wooing anything human
porridge, or lard will not never be simple. Ask your father he could tell
you for sure. And I'm quite sorry that the letter came so late, there was a
terrible storm and there was no way I was sending Errol out in that,
besides that it took quite sometime to decided how to answer you letter.
And don't worry you wont be unwooed for long.
Love,
Your Mother
A/N: I have more on other stories coming for you, butI have been hit with major writers block so.. you'll have to wait a bit. Also if it says one shot it is a one shot and I will not add anymore. So please dont leave reviews saying only" write more" or "continue" becauseI wont. It would be akward and out of sorts. It is flattering but I cant do it. On the bright side,I got my first flame andI am soooooooooo happy. Thank youOoffended reader. Review,I have assorted fruit desserts to give out