Word count: 917
Written for:
QLFC - Transfiguration, SEEKER: Write about someone showing skill or interest in the subject before starting their magical education.
Maybe One Day
"Mum, what subjects are there at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, jumping onto the sofa to sit beside her mother. "I know there's charms, and potioneering, and dee-ay-dee-ay, but what else?"
She racked her brains, trying to come up with more impressive-sounding class titles. Ginny had sneaked glances at her big brother's schedules for years, but only now could she read and pronounce the words written there with some semblance of accuracy. Maybe if Mum knew how prepared she was to go to school, she would buy nice robes and things for her when the day finally did come. She definitely wouldn't wear gross pre-used robes. Yuck!
"Ginny, dear, you're sitting on the laundry," grumbled her mother. "Now help me fold, and maybe we can talk about Hogwarts for a bit."
"Okay!" Ginny exclaimed, scrambling to her feet.
"Only a bit. You nearly talked my ear off yesterday…"
Ginny stopped,dropping the socks she was about to match, and folded her arms, scowling. "I'm not helping if you won't listen."
"Ginny," said her mother, a warning in her voice. "I don't need your attitude."
"Then use your wand to fold, not child labor!"
Ginny scrunched up her nose and began to pout. After a few seconds, Mum caved. Thank goodness. Ginny feared the day that her little-girl-pouty-face stopped working as a means of getting what she wanted.
"Who told you about child labor?" Mum asked, exasperated. "Sorry, dear, I'm tired, and your brothers have been sending up clouds of smoke in their room for hours. I've had to yell twice today and it's taking its toll."
"Is that why you're so grumpy?"
"Hey!"
Giggling, Mum chased Ginny around the first floor, a folded shirt draped over her shoulder and a tablecloth caught around her legs. After a few circuits, they collapsed together onto the sofa. The clothes there were wrinkled and crushed, but Mum admitted that magic would fix all of it. Ginny stared at the balled-up socks in wonder. It seemed like every day, she learned new things that magic could do. Every day, her desire to go to Hogwarts grew and grew.
Together, they finished tidying the clothes pile. The mess became a stack of neatly-folded robes and trousers, which glided into the laundry basket all at once. But by now, Ginny was exhausted from all the activity, and yawned meaningfully.
"Now, what would you like to know about Hogwarts?" asked her mother, stroking Ginny's long tangled hair gently. They sat down together on the sofa, Ginny snuggling into Mum's side and closing her eyes.
"Everything," she mumbled dreamily.
"Let's start with the subjects, just like you wanted. There's charms - your father was always good at those - potions - be good in that class - defense against the dark arts-"
"Why would there be dark arts to defend against?" Ginny interjected, opening her eyes.
"Oh, it's just a precaution," her mother said quickly. Ginny closed her eyes again, satisfied.
"And there's history of magic, herbology, transfiguration… Transfiguration is when you turn things into other things. Muggles love the idea of it; I'm sure you seen Ron's comics about the Muggle circus and the 'magician.'" Mum laughed softly. "Oh, those mad Muggles crack me up…"
Ginny heard nothing else thereafter, as she was fast asleep.
In her dreams, she was at Hogwarts. She wore the prettiest robes, showing off her bright red Gryffindor badge and scarf. There was a gorgeous new racing broom in her hands - she was on the Quidditch team! And a moment later, she was sitting in the Trans-fig-yur-ay-shun room, doing all sorts of amazing things with her wand. She waved it, saying words she couldn't hear, and then the desk in front of her became a pile of Honeydukes candy. That was the brand Bill and Charlie talked about, right?
Ginny woke up, still imaging the taste of the candy on her tongue. The house was dark, and a blanket was on top of her, tucked under her on the sides and pulled up to her chin. It was all very comfortable.
She thought about her dream, trying not to forget it. No matter how hard she tried, details always seemed to slip away when she woke, no matter how clear it had all been while she slept.
All that stuck with her was the thought of a desk turning into candy. It seemed impossible, yet it must be real.
Suddenly, the other classes seemed silly to Ginny. Herbology? That was dumb. There was nothing special about plants, they were everywhere in her family's garden. Potions sounded awful. She would never be caught dead in a gross dungeon all day long. Charms would be okay. Mum had said Dad was good at it, after all, so it must be good.
But Trans-fig-yur-ay-shun stayed in her head for a long time. Ginny couldn't sleep, even though it was very late. It felt like Christmas - she knew it wouldn't be morning unless she fell asleep, but her imagination ran too wild, and she couldn't stop thinking.
And for the first time, Ginny didn't want to go to Hogwarts because she envied her brothers. She forgot about Quidditch, and magical feasts, and all the friends she would make there. Ginny only cared about magic, and the things that it made possible.
She had two more years to wait, but Ginny felt that she could make it, now that she had something solid to look forward to.
Maybe one day, she would be the best Trans-fig-yur-er in all the world.