Disclaimer: I own my 'Wicked' CD and tickets to the 'Wicked' play. (Oh yeah! Waaaaaaaaahoooooooo! Beat THAT!) As you can tell, I am excited. awkward cough But I don't own Harry Potter. If you do, please contact me. I will worship the ground you walk on.
Dedicated to: Ryuneko-chan, who reviewed my story 'Ummm...What? (aka An Understanding)' with a nice long review. She asked me for a cookie, and since my teleporter wasn't working, I'm giving her this dedication instead. You see? Good things happen to good people. Especially those who review! hint hint
A/N: I personally, was never much of a play-with-ribbons person, but I figured it would suit Ginny nicely. Plus the Martians liked the idea.
Ribbons
If there was any part of her childhood she was still strongly connected to, Ginny would have to say it was the ribbons. Ribbons in her hair, ribbons in her dress, ribbons in her shoes, and ribbons in every craft she had ever made. Ribbons were her life blood and support system like nothing else was.
When her six brothers made fun of her and pulled her pigtails and pushed her in the mud because she was a girl, Ginny would run to her mother, who would always be ready with a ball of ribbons and a fresh round of sympathy. Sobbing, Ginny would cry and complain about having to put up with 'six icky brothers' while her mother would listen patiently, braiding her red hair carefully and weaving soft ribbons into her pigtails. Once she was done, her mum would take her to the mirror in the hallway. There Ginny would fuss and squeal over all the ribbons in her hair until she didn't mind being a girl anymore.
When the other girls were wearing fancy dresses and buying plastic crowns and putting expensive jewelry on their hands, Ginny would run home and put her old pink sundress on. She would loop ribbons through the moth holes and tie ribbons on the sleeves and braid ribbons into bracelets and put more and more ribbons on the dress until she felt just as much like a princess as the wealthy girls did.
When Ginny felt stupid and humiliated after her singing valentine to Harry in her first year, she sat up in her room for hours making strings of ribbons and humming 'his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad' until the song didn't seem quite as silly as before.
And when Harry Potter was proclaimed legally dead by the courts and nobody had seen or heard from him in three years, Ginny Weasley could be seen on the grounds of Hogwarts, sitting high in a tree and humming 'his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad.'
And if you look closely, you could see there were twenty ribbons woven carefully in her hair.