Fic background info- I've always been rather attracted and interested in the character of Ginny Weasley. She's been rather underplayed/used so far in the HP books. She had a fair presence in HP 5, but it wasn't all that much significant. Note that this will most likely go under many revisions, as I tend to spend a great deal more time editing and rewriting parts rather than writing actual new material and this is the alpha version of this particular fic. Also note that this fic is set two years after Ginny graduated from Hogwarts and that I am assuming that the war between the Light and Dark sides of the magical community has continued to rage on. Oh, and I'm exercising a bit of poetic license here- Ginny's hair is going to be a darkish maroonish :O
As usual, any comments, criticisms, and flames (yes you may flame me, I will not take personal offense or any of the sort, staff members please do not delete any if there are, I very much welcome it for it is still feedback. Even comments of "YOU SUCK" will be greatly appreciated, for a) it'll amuse me to no end and b) an indication that as usual, I've managed to annoy someone with my style and type of writing), are always welcome.
Enjoy.
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1-1
"Stand back now, ladies and gents! Stand back! Give 'em some room!"
The crowd milled about, laughing and joking, jostling each other in an attempt to get closer to the fun. There was a minor risk of getting hit by stray spells and getting injured, but after all it wasn't every day that one got the chance to watch a wizarding duel. Virginia Weasley offered a rare smirk to the heavens as she furtively edged closer to a fruit stand, it's owner preoccupied by the preparations of the two wizards. It wasn't often that such opportunities offered themselves to her. Her quick dexterous fingers snaked out, purloining several tangerines. Concealing two under her heavy cloak, she whipped out a curved blade, slicing the treat into quarters, allowing the sweet and tangy juice to quench her thirst.
Wrapping herself tighter in her cloak in an attempt to help ward off the winter chill, she glanced into the healthy gathering of wizards and witches. Ginny walked around the edge of the crowds, carefully willing herself to be patient. She delicately let her fingers brush over the ends cloaks of the various groups of people, her fingers always searching, feeling. She allowed a slight murmur of disappointment to escape her lips. The moneybags she could feel were all much too heavy and would create too much noise and attract attention if she attempted to take any. Feeling slightly annoyed, she maneuvered her way into the crowd, placing herself in the middle of a group of excitedly betting witches. Patience, she told herself. Patience, and you'll get your due reward.
The two wizards thrust their cloaks aside despite the cold, and having finished their ritualistic preparations, nodded to each other and saluted, whipping their wands up and to their side. An expectant hush settled over the crowd. The two wizards, faces set in identical grim visages, bowed simultaneously and turned sharply, their boots echoing loudly against planks hastily set up as the dueling platform. With every eye glued to the two duelers and eagerly anticipating their first spells, Ginny easily managed to pick the pockets of a wily looking old wizard standing right in front of her. While his moneybag was inaccessible like the others earlier, his pockets did however produce a small bag, presumably one that contained smaller change. Tsk tsk, she thought to herself in mock despair. When will you fools learn to take a firm grip on your possessions during such gatherings, no matter how trivial? With a silent snicker she excused herself, pushing through the excited crowd and abruptly turned on her heel and marched off, the sounds of wands and spells clashing along with the roars of approval by the crowd fading in her ears.
Making her way through the pedestrian traffic with her breath coming in foggy gouts, Ginny made her way to the Leaky Cauldron, an old and familiar place. Looking up at its aging and scarred sign she pushed through the worn door. Despite her cloak she was glad for the relative warmth of the place. She breathed deeply, taking in the familiar scents- the aromas of cooking wafting in from the kitchens, the strong smells of various drinks, the cigarette smoke that perpetually hovered in mists, obscuring much of the bar, and the ever present sounds of conversation as witches and wizards discussed topics ranging from elementary wand safety to the still ongoing war between the Dark wizards and the rest of the magical community.
Ignoring the clicks of glasses and eating utensils and the gentle murmur of conversation within the tavern, she waded through the semi-visible murk of cigarette smoke. She frowned slightly in annoyed pain as she began walking up the stairs- one of the bystanders during the duel must have stumbled back onto her from the way her ankle protested as she put her full weight on it. Her being in a hurry to escape any possible detection must have unconsciously overridden any knocks or pains she obtained during her exit from the crowd. Thinking that many of the world's problems would be solved if there were an all-powerful healing spell for general pains, she fished in a pocket for her room key and turned the knob. Entering and closing the door behind her, Ginny sighed, brushing her long deep maroon hair out of her eyes. Throwing her cloak onto her bed, she examined the contents of the small bag of money she'd taken from the old wizard. Fingering the pieces of silver and bronze, she sighed again, a feeling of unusual guilt surging through her. Despite it not being worth that much- it would barely pay for tomorrow's lodging and meal- she still felt the guilt tear at her heart.
"What kind of life was this, living as a pickpocket and a thief? She murmured to herself, her deep chocolate eyes looking reproachfully back at her in the mirror. "Am I to just live at the Cauldron for the rest of my life, barely surviving, knowing that my luck won't last forever? What can I do, what do I have to do, where do I have to go..."
She closed her eyes as a silent tear slid down her cheek. Lowering her head she sunk to her knees, her hands clenched in helpless fists by her sides. She stayed in that position for long minutes, a thousand thoughts running through her head. The visions. The images. Dark figures slowly approaching, the moonlight glinting off their wands and knives, the screams of terror that sprung from-
"NO!" With a sudden snarl of frustration, hate, and pain, she closed her eyes and flung the bag of money across the room, scattering the coins in every which direction. Breathing heavily, she spun, her eyes her eyes burning into the mirror. Seething, she raised a clawed hand, clenching and unclenching her fingers.
"I'll find you... believe me, I'll fucking find you..."
Her raging thoughts of revenge and pain was suddenly interrupted by a hasty scuffling noise outside her door as boots clunked loudly against the wooden floor. A knock came on her door followed by a voice. "Err, is everything all right Miss Reeves?"
Forcing herself to calm down, she struggled to even her voice. "Ah, um, yes, everything's quite alright thank you, just, ah, tripped over one of my shoes. Everything's alright Tom, really, there's no need for concern."
The old wizened voice murmured an assent and shuffled off. Ginny waited until the sounds of his boots on the old wooden floors of the Cauldron faded before letting out a deep breath. Sighing, she began to pick up the fallen Sickles and Knuts, placing them back in the bag. Tossing it onto a nearby cabinet, she pulled off her clothes and put on an old sweater. Her eyes filled with tears as she stroked its soft lines, remembering the day, so long ago, when her mother made it for her, beaming with pride when she put it on, a goofy grin on her face. She waved her wand at the lamp, which sputtered out immediately, plunging the room into darkness. She smiled through her tears in the darkness as she slid into bed. Pulling the covers over her, she sniffed, her thoughts reminiscent of a time when she was safe, happy, and secure...