Noddy -I know the stuff [the ministry of magic…] might look weird, because I have it on huge script letters on my computer, and ff.net doesn't display such fonts, so bear with me and envision scripty letters. And it's supposed to be in the middle. =)
August 18, 2003 – I know, I haven't put up another chapter, but I'm planning to, and I just needed to change a name and do some grammar. And there's some new sentences in which Ginny describes her talent. Read it if you want to, I don't care, just review.
It's October 4th, 2003.
Ah! New update! Just to change a name or two…and tweak it abit…now I've got me computer back, I can type Chapter Two, loves. Savvy?
[A letter]
To Miss Virginia Weasley, The Burrow, Third Landing, The Smallest Bedroom, Ottery St. Catchpole
The Ministry of Magic presents
The Annual
~Garden Ball ~
July 12th 1996
Dear Miss Virginia Abigail Weasley,
We are delighted to inform you that you have been chosen to be presented in this year's Garden Ball. The purpose of the ancient Garden Ball of England is to properly present to wizarding society a select few young women who are from England's finest wizarding families.
The Garden Ball is a tradition going back almost as far as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has in history. The Garden Ball is known for turning out many prominent women members of the wizarding community. Traditionally, young women are chosen from Hogwarts, from the ages of 15 and 16. Or, in Hogwarts years, fifth year and sixth year. Garden Ball debutantes are chosen based on mostly on school grades. In the Garden Ball, the young women are in a sense, competing. We encourage competition because it pushes our girls to strive for more perfection.
The Garden Ball is also practiced worldwide, in similar presentation ceremonies, from the Winter Fête in France to the Debutante Ball in the United States, and the Cherry Geisha Festival in Japan, and the Shiva Fire Celebration in India, to the Daughters of the Nile Isis Ball in Egypt and the South African Dance Pageant in South Africa, etc. All funds made from the Garden Ball, such as tickets, will be donated to the various charities of Britain, Magical and Muggle. Also, a large portion of this year's donations will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital.
Dilys Hestia Derwent, a former Garden Ball debutante herself, went on to become a Hogwarts Headmistress and St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies Healer. That is only one example of a dedicated member of wizarding society. Another is Narcissa Tempalia Malfoy, head of every charity in wizard England. Narcissa Malfoy is also this year's coordinator and director of the Garden Ball and has been since her crowning as Miss Magic in 1978. Another is Minerva Pallas McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress to Hogwarts and Transfiguration professor.
We sincerely hope to see you presented at the Garden Ball. Enclosed are two tickets for the, no doubt, proud parents. This year, the Garden Ball will be held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, over Christmas holiday. Do share the wonderful news with your parents. Also, please have a signed permission form by your parent or guardian. We expect your confirmation notice and permission form by no later than August 1 by owl.
Sincerely,
Narcissa Malfoy
Director and Coordinator
P.S. There is an enclosed list of the things required for the Ball, such as dress robes. Also, is a list of rules and regulations.
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Ginny Weasley stared at the letter she just read.
She knew the Garden Ball existed, but never had she known that she'd be able to be a part of it. It was a swanky, fun-filled evening where girls are paraded around as young ladies and presented to the world. Like a Muggle beauty pageant, sort of.
She squealed. It was going to be so much fun.
But she was plain old Ginny. Nothing special about her. Well, she did well in her classes, for starters.
She looked at the gilded envelope and pulled out another sheaf of paper, the same cream colored, heavy paper as the letter.
The Ministry of Magic presents
The Annual
Garden Ball
~Contenders ~
Hannah Carlotta Abbott, Hufflepuff House
Andelynn Wyndenelle Black, Slytherin House
Ursula Thaddene Black, Gryffindor House
Susan Julianne Bones, Hufflepuff House
Amanda Claire Brocklehurst, Ravenclaw House
Lavender Katherine Brown, Gryffindor House
Millicent Odile Bulstrode, Slytherin House
Luna Helene Lovegood, Ravenclaw House
Bethany Sky-Jewel Moon, Hufflepuff House
Pansy Jezebel Parkinson, Slytherin House
Padma Shiva Patil, Ravenclaw House
Parvati Sheila Patil, Gryffindor House
Lisa Zelmarie Turpin, Ravenclaw House
Virginia Abigail Weasley, Gryffindor House
Blaise Leshaya Zabini, Slytherin House
It was for real. She was on the list. She was going to be presented to wizard society. Wait…she didn't have enough money to go buy dress robes, new ones, even.
She sighed. Maybe if she showed her parents, they'd let her go. Maybe not.
But let's see what you say to going, Ginny thought. That little voice intruded on her space again. Do you want to go?
A very private matter this was. So she had to see for herself. Opening her wardrobe door, she peered at the mirror on the door.
Looking back at her was a perfectly innocent face, save for the puzzled expression in her eyes. Her eyes were a bright brown, with a thin strip of freckles below them, on her nose. Her mouth used to be open all the time, but after Harry stepped into her life, she kept it shut more often.
He's alright now. I've gotten past him.
And the trademark Weasley hair was the same bright red like her family, and looked very orange in sunlight. Except that she had the longest hair next to Bill. She didn't let it down often; it was in braids lately.
Her skin was pale, a healthy pale, which was rosy every time she ran too fast, or was blushing. Blushing. Ron's ears blushed, the back of Percy's neck blushed. When Ginny blushed, her whole face flushed scarlet.
Ginny Weasley wasn't bothered much by her plain Jane looks, but always thought she looked her best prancing about in an endless field, in the early morning hours, when her hair would look like a halo.
The only part of herself that Ginny really liked was her long, thin fingers. The tips of them were always red, like the princesses in fairy tale books.
She shook her head and closed the wardrobe door.
She wanted to go. It'd be fun, dressing up and prancing about. She looked at the contenders list again. She was sure she, Luna, and Ursula, a girl in her dorm, were the youngest ones. Everyone else was probably in Sixth Year the next term.
Skipping down to the small, cramped kitchen with the envelope, letter, and list in her hand, she found Mum making sandwiches.
A large platter was already loaded with sandwiches. Ginny counted seven different kinds, all with different meats, bread, and vegetables.
"Ginny! There you are…I need someone to carry these out to the back. Put them on the makeshift table. Bill and Charlie are setting up," she said, now slicing her home-grown, large, red tomatoes.
"Mum? I was wondering if you would look at this…" Ginny said, brandishing her letter.
"Ginny, I've seen your Hogwarts letter already…Oh, and bring the basket of napkins out, too, if you could manage," replied Mrs. Weasley, piling three slices of tomato on a salmon sandwich. Ginny wrinkled her nose. She hated salmon.
"Mum, it isn't Hogwarts. It's about—" she was cut off by a CRACK from outside.
"Fred! George! They're home!" Ginny yelped, dropping her letter into the pile of tomato slices as she bolted for the door.
The doorknob turned and in walked George, grinning and carrying a stack a notebooks and a paper bag with "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" emblazoned in orange on it, their address in Diagon Alley under it.
Fred's hands were bandaged so that they looked like a Permanent Sticking charm on oven mitts.
"Gin!" said Fred brightly.
"Mum!" cried George.
"You two," Mum nodded at the twins, "Will bring the plates out back. Gin, the sandwiches, please."
They trudged off, Ginny with the sandwiches, Fred carrying the basket of napkins gingerly over his bandaged hands, and George with a stack of mismatched plates, their patterns and size as different as the latter one.
"So...got that letter from Angelina, eh?" Ginny said, eyeing Fred's bandaged hands, which were healing from undiluted bubotuber pus. Angelina had blown her top when Fred and George left.
"Yeah," Fred said. "Came in right after we opened today…I opened it, why, why, why did I open it?" He stared at the sky, expecting an answer. "Anyway, then that stuff gushed out and then I had to go to St. Mungo's and left George all alone to try out our new Laryngitis Licorice for our Skiving Snackboxes."
"Almost sent me through the roof, those things…might have to tweak them a bit…you start choking like mad…can't breathe…had to go get old Mundungus to thump my back for me…" George said, wincing.
"Mundungus? What was he doing there?" Said Ginny, inhaling the smell of the sandwiches. She shifted her weight so her elbows would not ache so much from the sandwiches' weight.
"Nah, probably there on business, as usual. I think he was off to meet some bloke offering twenty Galleons for a pound of bezoars with jewels in them in Florean Fortuscue's," replied Fred warily.
They were approaching the garden, where Bill and Charlie sat on the second of three tables; chewing grass and watching Ron and Harry best the garden gnomes, laughing as Harry—
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGHHHHHHHHH!" scream Ron, his arms flailing about, his face scrunched up and scarlet.
Harry had smacked Ron in the face with his gnome, and the resultant—Ron whipped around, smacking Harry in the face with his gnome, knocking Harry's glasses askew and blinding him temporarily.
They crashed and with a loud KERFLUMP, fell on top of each other, unaware that the garden gnomes were marching back to their holes, and unaware that they were being laughed at by Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie. Ron and Harry and Ron looked at each other and laughed heartedly and got up, kicking gnomes this way and that as they made their way towards the tables, stumbling, covered in earth, and Harry's broken glasses almost beyond repair.
"Here, Harry, let me get them for you," offered Charlie, taking Harry's glasses and repairing them instantly.
"Thanks," said Harry, wiping his glasses off on his faded shirt, turning away from the Weasleys. Ginny saw a large wet blotch of sweat on his back through his shirt.
"So, what's going on with you and Fleur, Bill?" said George slyly, suppressing a grin.
"Yeah…How're the eenglieesh lessons coming along?" grinned Fred.
Bill flushed scarlet and became very interested in the patterns on his boots.
"Shut up," said Charlie, punching Fred.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley came out, a very large and beaten-looking wooden salad bowl in her arms, a spatula and her wand sticking out of her flowery pink apron, and a disgruntled look on her face and a smile in her eyes.
As she got closer, Ginny could see the cream envelope nestled on top of the salad.
"Fred—George—Bill—Charlie—Ron," Mrs. Wealsey said, setting the salad bowl down on the table beside the sandwiches, basket, and plates. "Why didn't any of you come inside to bring out everything else?"
They all exchanged blank looks.
"And Ginny, what's this about the Garden Ball?" Mrs. Weasley said, brandishing the letter.
"Er," Ginny said, blushing.
"We're so proud of you," Mrs. Weasley gushed, pulling Ginny into a tight hug, the spatula and wand poking into Ginny's side instantly.
"Mum…can I go? I mean, I can get second-hand dress robes and stuff…but can I go anyway?" Ginny pleaded, ignoring Ron's, Harry's, Fred's, George's, Charlie and Bill's stares.
"Oh," replied Mrs. Weasley softly. "Robes second-hand…maybe you need new ones anyway. We'll see a bit after we talk to your father, okay?"
Mrs. Weasley walked back to the house, a little skip in her step.
"Sooooooo," George started, grinning from ear to ear.
"Little Ginny's—" said Fred.
"All—" said Charlie.
"Grown—" said Bill.
"Up," finished Ron, picking the petals off a black-eyed Susan absentmindedly.
Ginny gave them the evil eye. "Shut. Up."
"Wow, how come we weren't chosen for the Garden Ball?" said Fred, batting his eyelashes and strutting the length of the garden and back, his bandaged hands placed carefully on his hips.
"Yeah, what, we aren't pretty enough?" inquired George, patting his hand to his face as if powder himself. Ginny was strongly reminded of the one time she caught the Fat Lady powdering herself and muttering breathlessly under her breath, her hair set in a fancy updo, her neck dripping in diamonds and pearls. Ginny had caught a few words ( "Vi", "Meeting", "Napoleon", "Party", ) until the Fat Lady demanded what she was doing there and demanded the password ( "Cornucopia Snickerdoodles") and blushed furiously.
"So, what's your talent, Gin? Tap-dancing? Singing? Quidditch?" asked Bill imperiously, his finger tracing his boot design, the letter and all in his hands, having taken it from his mother before.
Ginny stared at him blankly. "Talent? I've got to have a talent? You mean, like singing and tap-dancing?"
Ron gaped. "Gin! The only thing you can do is perform Bat-Bogey Hexes and hex Malfoy for us! And not tell your brothers about boyfriends," he added, throwing Bill and Ginny dark looks.
Bill interjected. "What've I done, ickle Ronniekins?"
"Fleur," Ron replied. Bill blushed.
"Oh, just because I don't tell you doesn't mean I have to and doesn't mean I'm a terrible person,' said Ginny. "And I can do other things," she added, a tone of pride in her voice.
Ron threw away his wilting black-eyed Susan. "Like?"
"I can play the violin decently enough."
"That's it? You can't do anything else?"
"Well, I don't see you playing the violin," Ginny snapped at Ron.
"I can play chess," Ron snapped back at her.
"Against whom, if you were going on stage, Eh? Dumbledore?" said Harry.
Ron seemed lost for words at Harry's input.
Ginny started up again. "I can play the violin decently and I can also peel a banana with my bare feet. So? Any questions?" She said, glaring at them all.
They were doubled up, laughing.
Ginny gave them all the evil eye. "Can any of you peel a banana with your—bare—feet?"
They shut up most instantly.
"I—;" she ticked off her fingers, "—can't tap-dance, I can't sing, I can't do ballet, I can't play Quidditch on stage, and I most definitely cannot, cannot, CANNOT do that appalling Muggle dance, the Macarena."
Fred and George looked crestfallen.
"Hey, you all!"
They all turned.
Hermione was walking towards them from the back door, waving and smiling. She was wearing a red heather jumper and a grey skirt past her knees, a thin silver locket around her neck, her hair as bushy as ever.
Hermione gestured to a pack of persons behind her and lo and behold, they all saw Tonks, with her hair the same bright bubblegum pink it was last term, only in long ringlets, like Dilys Derwent's portrait; Lupin, donned in a shabby multi-colored jumper and faded pinstriped trousers under his equally shabby robes; Kingsley Shacklebolt, his bald head shining in the afternoon sun, a wide grin on his dark face, showing many rows of bright white teeth; Mundungus Fletcher, in a large khaki trench coat with something like a lump under his arm; Mad-Eye Moody, his black bowler low over his magical eye, now with several plumed purple feathers stuck into the hatband, which was tomato-red ; and lastly, Mr. Weasley, what left of his red hair windswept, an overlarge grey jumper and overlarge denim jeans held up by a clunky leather belt with a round silver buckle underneath his dusty, travel-worn green robes.
They were all smiling and grinning at them, Tonks waving jovially, while Moody's magical eye evidently was whirring around in its socket, the purple-plumed bowler out of sight, watching everything from the returning garden gnomes to the bees pollinating the mass of wildflowers and avoiding the tall, large and unruly patch of weeds.
Ginny and Tonks hugged, and when they pulled apart, they saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron pull apart, and then the five watched everybody else watch Mrs. Weasley stomp out of the house, her face crimson, a broom in one hand a her wand in another, heading straight for Mundungus Fletcher.
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Author's Note: Anyone like? Yes, I know Harry's a bit OOC, shutting up the whole time, but it is Weasley territory here, anyway, but I thought I'd be nice for him to enjoy that conversation. This is a fic in which it's a bit fluffy, and a tad serious, so it/s both. It's kind of like a chick-flick, with Ginny getting a "makeover' later on, in which Hermione is OOC, but we'll see, eh/ Review, please, because I'm a review hog. And flame if you don't like it, and also, put in suggestions for a better story. It's like a beauty pageant, only, well, yeah, it's a beauty pageant. Pansy, of course, is the biggest bitch since Bellatrix, duh. I had to stick Millicent Bulstrode in here, I just had to. And it all started when I imagined writing a fic centering a ball Hogwarts'd throw, an I imagined Luna in these lovely robes, and Ginny in these lovely robes, and a whole bunch of other girls in lovely robes, each representing a flower of some sort, then it hit me, BAM. So, hope you like it. And I need more flowers' names and pictures. I have fifteen/sixteen girls and only a few have flowers. Help me!