Hello dear readers. This is a little fic based on the fairy tale of Thumbelina in response to the 'Ever After: The Fairytale Challenge' posted by Romi Lawliet. I liked the idea of incorporating my beloved HP characters into the timeless classic of a fairytale and I was given the story of Thumbelina. For those of you who haven't read Hans Christian Andersen's story of the little girl as tiny as a thumb...well I highly recommend you google it. It's a classic story, and every self respecting reader should have a basic knowledge of the classic fairy tales that have shaped literature into what we know it to be today.
Obviously none of the characters are my own, they belong to Ms Rowling. The plotline is not my own either, obviously, as it belongs to Mr Hans Christian Andersen. However this modern adaption is entirely mine and I hope you enjoy it!
Please please please review. I don't whether you like my writing unless you say so!
There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she could not obtain her wish. At last she went to a fairy, and said, "I should so very much like to have a little child; can you tell me where I can find one?"
"Oh, that can be easily managed," said the fairy. "Here is a barleycorn of a different kind to those which grow in the farmer's fields, and which the chickens eat; put it into a flower-pot, and see what will happen."
"Thank you," said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve shillings, which was the price of the barleycorn. Then she went home and planted it, and immediately there grew up a large handsome flower, something like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves tightly closed as if it were still a bud. "It is a beautiful flower," said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden-colored leaves, and while she did so the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower, upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they gave her the name of "Thumbelina,"
- 'Thumbelina' by Hans Christian Andersen
Chapter 1: Thumbelina
Molly Weasley stared in amazement at the bundle she held in her arms. Despite having been through this process four times before, the fact that she and Arthur's love had created such a perfect little human was as miraculous to her as it had been with her firstborn.
Baby Ronald shifted in her arms and Molly bent her head over so that she could breathe in the soft scent that is so unique to babies. She nestled herself back in her bed, comfortable in the familiar surrounds of her home at the Burrow. The midwife healer who had helped in the birth had stayed throughout the birth yesterday, but had been pleased that Molly had had such an easy birth. After five children it was hardly surprising that the labour had lasted only a short while, and Molly had never had any problems in having any of her children.
Arthur was downstairs, and Molly could hear the familiar shrieks of the children playing together. She loved hearing them play, each individual in their own way. And she much preferred them when they were audible in their games, rather than the uneasiness that came when any of her children were too quiet. Silence in this house tended to be a prediction of future mischief.
They had named Ronald after one of Arthur's ancestors, and Molly was grateful that their family trees had so many different male names to choose from. As the sixth son born into the family it had been a struggle to find yet another boys name for this new addition.
Molly wouldn't deny that she had hoped for a daughter, that she had eaten more dairy than ever before throughout her pregnancy and had given up her beloved morning cup of tea in hopes that there might be some truth to the old witch tales that were passed on from mother to dauther.
Nevertheless, she couldn't be happier to be holding a healthy baby boy. She bent over and kissed his head again, knowing that she would love this little boy just as much as any of her other children, and more than she could ever have thought she could love anyone.
Molly Weasley loved being a mother. She loved it with every inch of her being, in the very core of her bones. When she had married Arthur she had thought she was the happiest woman alive. When she had her firstborn she had realised she was complete. And with every new addition it seemed as it seemed as if she was given a missing piece of her life she had never known she lacked.
At one year of age Ronald Weasley had developed a possessive streak that Molly attributed to being the youngest of six boys. This morning she was trying every trick at her disposal to get Ron to hand over his cup so that she could fix it. He had cracked the side of the cup at some stage and now there was a trail of juice that had leaked along the floorboards and had dripped down his sticky arms and stained his top. She knew that she could use her wand to get the cup, but she tried to avoid using magic on her children if she thought it would upset them. She didn't like them to associate magic with unpleasant things at such a young age, and so she was crouched on the floor trying to swap Ron's favourite toy broomstick for the cup. However Ron was having none of it, and was clutching the cup to his breast as if his life depended on it, in the process spilling even more of its contents down his body.
She sighed. Having five older brothers had taught Ron that when he had something he loved he needed to cling to it dearly. Molly could hardly blame him for being possessive - the twins in particular seemed to take an unusual glee from tricking Ron to give up his playthings. Even so, sometimes she could only shake her head at her children's stubborness.
Giving up, and deciding to just leave Ron to himself and to deal with the mess afterwards Molly headed back to the kitchen where she had left a dough on the counter to prove. Although she could use magic to cook she preferred to use manual cooking methods as she thought there was a distinct difference in the end product. She fetched the flour from beneath the bench and set to work measuring out the cupfuls. She had an afternoon play-date at the park and had agreed to make the scones for the other mothers there. Everybody knew she made the best scones in the county and she took a special pride in serving up her baked goods each week at the park when the other mothers in the area came together to let their children play.
That afternoon she and the children made their way to the park, the boys running ahead to greet the other children and Ron fast asleep in his pram. She greeted the other mothers at the park bench and started laying out the scones and jam for their afternoon picnic.
It was always a pleasure to catch up with the other mothers and she settled on the bench and joined in the gossip. She and the others shared their motherhood woes and stories, and admired each other's children.
A new mother had joined the group, bringing her little girl to the park to play. Tamara was a six year old little witch with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked like a toy doll in her puffy pink dress and sparkled hairband. Molly smiled and crouched down next to Tamara to introduce herself, and Tamara shied away behind her mother's legs.
"She's a bit shy" said the newcomer apologetically, and Molly nodded in understanding.
"That's fine dear. Hello Tamara, how do you do? Would you like to see something special?" Molly asked the little girl, who nodded.
Molly smiled and drew her wand, making the flowers around them dance. Tamara, forgetting her shyness, laughed and came out from behind her mothers legs to dance amongst the flowers. Molly laughed too, and looked up at the mother with smiling eyes.
"I just love little girls! I have six boys of my own, but always wished I could have a little girl to dress up and play dolls with" she said, watching Tamara continue to swirl in her pretty pink dress.
The mother gave her an odd look, and Molly suddenly felt slightly uneasy, as if she had said something she shouldn't.
"I'm Marian" said the woman, holding her hand out to Molly to shake hands. Molly obliged, uncertain as to whether she had said something offensive.
"Molly" she said, standing up from her crouch and fetching the tray of scones to offer to the new addition to the party.
They stood for a little, watching Tamara who had become tired of the dancing flowers and instead had run off to play with some of the other children who were playing some type of role-play game, her own son Percy wearing a crown of daisies on top of his head with a brunette child who was dancing in a circle around him.
"You know" said Marian after a while of watching their children play, "Tamara is often too shy to play with strangers. I would like to repay you" she said, eyes never straying from her daughter.
Molly glanced sideways, taken aback by such a strange statement. She had never considered amusing a young child an act that needed repayment.
"Here" said the woman, delving into a little bag that was strung over her shoulders and pulling out a little parcel wrapped in ribbons.
"They're seeds" she explained, handing them to Molly. "Plant them in a pot, care for them, and I think you'll be surprised by what they grow."
Molly took the little package, taken aback by the exchange. She suddenly felt quite unnerved by the woman and made a show of looking at the sun to judge the time of day.
"Oh goodness!" She exclaimed, looking at the sky. "We've been here much too long! We have to get back as we have visitors coming. Boys!" she called loudly, and her sons looked up in her direction.
"Come along boys! We have to get going" she called.
Grumbling, the five boys gathered as Molly set the jam and now-empty scone tray back into the container at the bottom of the pram and made sure Ron, still sleeping soundly, was secure.
She wished the woman, Marian, goodbye and started making her way back across the park, waving at Tamara as she left. The little girl waved and then turned back to play with her other companions.
That night, after putting the boys to bed and waiting for Arthur to arrive home from work so that they could have their dinner, Molly found the little ribbon-bound package in her pocket.
She was still uneasy about that woman, but thought that she would plant the seeds and see what happened. She found an empty pot outside and set it on the kitchen windowsill, planting the seeds in the soil and giving them a little water. She smiled at her folly, but was curious as to what the strange woman had given her.
When Arthur arrived home Molly forgot to tell him about her encounter in the park, and listed as he told her about his day at the office, dealing with dancing toilet seats.
It wasn't until the next morning when Molly realised there were already leaves sprouting from the soil that she began to question her actions in planting the seeds. Living in a magical world meant that anything was possible, and she hoped she hadn't planted something dangerous like Devil's Snare.
Even so, over the next few days Molly took care to water the little seedling each day and was surprised at how quickly the little seedling turned into a flour. Of all the seeds she planted only one seemed to grow, but the flower it made was exceedingly pretty and Molly was very pleased with herself for putting it on the windowsill. Even Arthur noticed it one night when he arrived home from work, telling her that he liked the pink tulip-like plant she had found. She smiled secretly, not giving up her secret of its origin.
It was quite unexpected, then, when on the fifth morning of its bloom Molly began to trickle water onto the flower but stopped as it started to glimmer and bloom. Before her eyes the pink of the petals seemed to grow even more vibrant, and she watched as the petals unveiled themselves, uncurling from the centre of the bud.
Molly watched in awestruck silence as the flour spread its petals, because there, at the centre of the bloom, unveiled by the pink petals, was a miniature version of a little girl.
It was only as the little girl yawned and stretched, rolling over on the petals as she awakened from slumber, that Molly registered what was happening. The water cup from which she had been pouring the water dropped to her feet and shattered.
There, in the centre of the flower, was a real live little girl.
When Arthur arrived home that night to find his wife in a state of shock over a miniature girl, it was hardly surprising that he wasn't quite sure how to react. He, like his wife, had never heard of such a thing and neither knew whether this creature was a mythical animal or a miracle.
While they worried over the small thing the little girl slept on, and Molly had picked her up from the centre of the bloom and put her in a box cushioned with cottonwool. She didn't seem like a fairy who had wings from the moment of their birth, and pixies were much larger and had pointed chins and ears. Neither she nor Arthur had ever heard of any creatures being born from a flower, and Molly had floo-called her friends from her afternoon playgroup to enquire about the woman she had spoken to. What disturbed her even more was that none of the other mothers even remembered such a woman being present. When Molly spoke to them of the little girl Tamara, none of the mothers could remember such a child with a pretty pink dress and blonde hair.
She and Arthur placed the box with the sleeping girl by their bedside, and spent a sleepless night questioning how such a creature came to be. The following day Arthur took the box to work and questioned all the people in the Ministry about such a creature, but none had ever seen such a little girl nor heard of creatures being born from flowers.
In the end Arthur returned home none the wiser, and he and Molly spent the next day which was a weekend keeping a close eye on their children and on the box, unsure as to the effect this unknown may have on their own beloved boys.
On the third day of her slumber the little girl stirred once more, yawned, stretched her arms above her head and stood up in the box. Molly, who had been sitting at the table with a cup of tea contemplating the girl and wondering how such an unknown creature had come to have the exact same shade of red hair that was her family's trademark. Molly called quickly for Arthur who came running. Together they watched as the little girl, still waking and clothed in a wrap of petals, opened her eyes and stared at them.
The girl smiled, and Molly and Arthur could do nothing but stare back, dumbstruck.
"Hello" she said, in a voice that was a beautiful soprano.
"Hello" she said again when Molly and Arthur made no move to reply.
Molly was the first to stir. "Who are you?" she whispered. "What are you?" she asked the little creature.
"I'm a girl" said the little thing, looking down at herself and smoothing the petal wrap that she wore.
"At least I think I am. I don't know who I am though. Maybe you could tell me?" she asked and both Molly and Arthur remained silent, unsure.
"I don't know. You were born from a flower that grew from a seed I was given" said Molly finally.
"Oh." said the girl. She seemed to take the news that her birth was from a flower as if it was a commonplace event.
"Then I supposed you are my mother" she said, looking up at Molly. "And you are my father" she said to Arthur.
Arthur and Molly looked at each other in shock.
Finally, they looked back to the little girl. A moment of understanding passed between them, and Molly held out her hands to the little girl who stepped daintily onto them.
Molly brought the creature closer to them, holding them towards their faces.
"I suppose I am" she said in a whisper.
"And I shall call you Ginny" she said to the little girl whose face broke out into a grin and she plopped cross-legged onto Molly's palm.
"Well then!" she said happily.
"Hello mum! Hello dad!" she grinned.
Molly and Arthur grinned back.
Over the next few years Ginny found herself in a home full of love. She was treated with the same loving kindness that Molly showed to all her sons. And the boys were exceedingly gentle with her, despite their rough and tumble play with each other. Even Ron, the smallest, progressed through his toddler years with some underlying sense that Ginny was never to be manhandled.
Even so, their gentle treatment of Ginny didn't stop her from playing with her brothers. In true Weasley fashion Ginny turned out to be a most ingenious prankster. Together with the twins, Fred and George, Ginny played neverending pranks on all her family. Nobody was immune from their games, and Ginny's ability to get past the smallest of spaces, and underneath the most solid doors, leant her a distinct advantage in this area.
Even Fred and George were often tricked by their very little sister, finding themselves on the end of itching powders and eggs in shoes as well as the hundreds of other ways Ginny found to put her pranking skills to good use.
And Molly didn't mind in the slightest. She was so grateful to have such a loving family, and to have a daughter, that she let all the fun and games slide by. She reprimanded Ginny along with the boys whenever anybody went too far, and the entire family knew the extent of Molly Weasley's famous temper. But Molly never tired of sewing tiny outfits for her daughter. She constructed a miniature kingdom for Ginny, with toy trains and magical flying machines and a garden of flowers for Ginny to make home.
And Ginny was extremely happy in her newfound family, never feeling like an intruder amongst the large people around her. She did cause her parents some worry when it didn't seem as if she would age at all, but after seven years it seemed as if this eternal timelessness wore off, and she began to age in her tiny form. By the time Ronald was eleven and heading off for school at Hogwarts Ginny looked like a miniature ten year old, and her parents had begun to speak to the teachers involved at the school to look into enrolling Ginny the following year.
This meant, however, that Ginny had an entire year at home before she would see her brothers again. And although she loved her mother and father dearly she felt extremely excluded that she had to stay at home with them while her brothers were off having all sorts of adventures at school away from home.
It was perhaps because of this feeling of being left out that led Ginny to spend more and more time out of doors. And it was because she was spending so much time out of doors that Molly began to take Ginny with her whenever she left the house to run errands. Molly was very aware of the dangers that lurked in the garden for someone as tiny as Ginny.
So Ginny was taken to the markets, to friend's houses, to the Ministry to see her father, and anywhere else that Molly needed to go. Molly and Arthur's friends had always been aware that they had a miniature daughter, but none had met her as often as they did now. She became a regular feature at her mother's tea parties and visits to friends houses.
It was at such a tea party that Ginny was unfortunate enough to be introduced to Dolores.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please review!