Ginny was very excited. Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter was in her house, downstairs eating breakfast in all his glasses wearing, scar toting glory. This was her chance, she had dreamed about him since she was a little girl when her mother told the story of how a brave little boy had vanquished a very dark wizard. She had never really thought she would meet him, yet alone actually have a chance with him, but then last year. Ron, Ron her wonderful, sweet, darling brother had made friends with THE Harry Potter. She had to make a good impression. Definitely a day for her favourite jumper. Ah, her favourite jumper, it was a piece of art to rival Picasso. It was blue and stripy and lovely. Yes, that would ensure she didn't make a fool of herself. .
She flung open her wardrobe and raked around for a while. Frowning she emerged and ran downstairs.
"Mummy have you seen my jumper?"
"Yes dear, it was on that cat"
Ginnys expression immediately went sour. 'Oh hell no! Not this again' she thought to herself as she pounded upstairs. That damned cat! It was some stray her mother had taken to and allowed to hang around the Burrow. On the outside it looked like a pretty cute little ball of grey fluff but Ginny knew. She knew that that cat was evil.
It started last September when Ron had left for Hogwarts, Ginny had never been so lonely at the burrow. One by one all her playmates had gone off to school and now she had lost her best friend. After a few days of moping and exaggerated sighs, Mrs. Weasley had offered to take Ginny to Diagon Alley at the weekend. Excited by the rare chance to get something new, she forgot her lonelines. She looked forward to the trip all week and planned to wear all her lucky clothes in the hope of persuading her mum to buy her a pet. Ginny had a lot of lucky clothes; it was her own private little quirk. She never confided her belief in the magic of the clothes to her family. Her brothers would make fun of her and her mum and dad might worry she was 'weird'. Anyway like they could talk… Dad collected plugs… Over the years she had accumulated quite the collection.
There was her lucky jeans which had caught on the tree when she fell out of the treehouse three years ago. There were her lucky trainers that had helped her outrun Fred and George when they tried to force-feed her an acid pop. There was her lucky dress which always made Auntie Muriel have a few too many sherry's and give her a sickle. And best of all, there was her lucky jumper. It was one of the few things Ginny owned that was not second hand or homemade, she had gotten it for her ninth birthday and that day had been the best day ever. She had gotten to go flying with Charlie, her mum had made lemon biscuits, Bill had come home and brought her a really cool ornament from Egypt and she had beaten Ron at chess. Since then, whenever she wore that jumper, she felt so much better about herself. She felt confident, cool, grown up. The kind of Ginny that would attract Harry Potter. But then that day, the day they were due to go to Diagon Alley her jumper disappeared.
After at least an hour of searching, Ginny consented to go to Diagon Alley sans lucky jumper. It was the worst day ever, it chucked it down the whole time they were out, Florence Fortescues was closed for the day and her mother dragged her round looking for a 'new' second-hand kettle. Feeling more than a little sorry for herself that night, Ginny had dragged herself upstairs and flung herself down on the bed. It would have been so much better if she just had her jumper. Where was it? She was determined to find it, she turned her room upside down and still no sign. Sighing, she resumed her position on the bed. Suddenly something caught her attention. Her eyes went wide, she heard herself gasp. There at her bedroom window, peering at her through the glass was that bloody stray cat that her mother sometimes gave milk and let sleep in the kitchen.
And it was wearing her jumper
"WHAT!"
Ginny yelled. "What are you doing with that!"
The cat merely continued looking at her.
She went to open the window, when her mother came barging into the room.
"Ginny! Are you alright? Why are you shouting!"
But Mrs. Weasleys concern soon turned to anger.
"Look at the state of this room Ginevra! What on earth have you been doing!"
"Mum! I was just…"
"I'm not interested, you tidy up this room this instant!"
"Mum…"
"Ginny, I said I'm not interested."
" I know Mum, it's just I was looking for my jumper and the cat.."
"Stop arguing with me and clean up this mess!"
"I Will! But the cat…"
"That's it, no dessert for you tonight!"
"But Mum that's so unfair! Look the cat…"
"Be quiet, I'm sick of your cheek. I don't want to hear another word out of you until this room is spick and span!"
And with a look that plainly said she meant business Mrs. Weasley left the room.
Ginny turned to the window, the cat sat there, smirking.
Angry tears pricked at Ginnys eyes, summoning her Weasley courage, she whispers
"This isn't over."
And thus the epic battle began.
We rejoin our heroine in the present day- hair flying, eyes blazing running up the stairs, ready to resume the fight.
Corner after corner she rounds, the burrows complicated infrastructure makes it difficult to find anything in this house. But then she reaches the top of the house and there she sees it, sat on top of Rons tank full of frogspawn looking like it owns the place.
The opposition. The enemy. Her nemesis. The cat.