A/N: Ella Enchanted is one of my favorite books. When I noticed that there
were so many spin-offs on books, I decided to (sort-of) write one of my
own…H/G tinted. Some sentences and paragraphs, etc., may be lifted directly
from the book. I had to change some things in order to make the story fit
with the HP universe, which I am about to list. I made Percy the eldest,
followed by Bill, Charlie, the twins, Ron, and then Ginny. Also, I had to
resurrect Harry's parents, although they do only play a small part in the
story itself. Let's see…oh. It's set in an AU, during medieval times, so
all the Weasleys except for Bill, Percy, Charlie, Arthur and Molly don't
know that they're magical.
Disclaimer: The Weasleys, Potters, Grangers, Parkinsons, etc., all belong to JK Rowling. This story is based on the book "Ella Enchanted," which belongs to Gail Carson Levine.
That fool of a witch Lucinda did not intend to lay a curse on me. She wanted to bestow a gift, I suppose. When I cried uncontrollably through my first hour of life, she shook her head empathetically at my mother. My tears were her inspiration. Tapping my nose with her wand, she said, "My gift is obedience, my lady. Ginny will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child."
Naturally, I stopped.
Father was away at his job, with my eldest brother Percy. They were in a business I knew nothing about; however, my mother and brothers were there. Mother and my second eldest brother Bill were horrified, but they could not make Lucinda understand the terrible concequences of her actions. I can picture the arguments now: Mother's freckles standing out more than usual, her hair damp from labor, shaking with anger. Small Bill intense and still, the laughter gone from his eyes…he had always been astute about these things.
I couldn't imagine Lucinda. I didn't know what she looked like.
She wouldn't undo the curse.
The first time I became aware of it was on my fifth birthday. The reason I seem to remember it so clearly is probably because Bill told the story so often.
"For your birthday," he'd start, "Mother baked a big cake. It had six layers. She'd also sewn you a special gown. I think it was a dark blue, with a white sash. You were small for your age, even back then, and so you looked like a porcelain doll with your hair so red and your cheeks all pink with excitement."
In the middle of the table were flowers that one of my other brothers, Ron, had picked while playing out in the fields with yet another brother, Fred.
We all sat around the table; Father and Percy were away again. I was very excited. I had watched Mother bake the cake and sew the gown and helped Ron with the flowers.
My third eldest brother, Charlie, cut the cake. When he handed me my piece, he said without thinking, "Eat."
The first bite was delicious and I finished the slice happily. When it was gone, Bill cut me another. That one was harder to finish. When it was gone, no one gave me any more, but I knew I had to keep eating. This time I stuck my fork into the cake itself.
"Ginny, what on Earth are you doing?" Mother asked.
George, another of my brothers, laughed. "Come on, Mum, it's her birthday. Let her have as much as she wants." He put another piece on my plate.
I felt sick and frightened. Why couldn't I stop eating? It was starting to become hard to swallow. Every bite weighed more and more on my tongue, and the frosting became sticky like glue.
Bill realized it first. "Ginny, stop eating," he commanded.
I stopped.
Anyone could control what I did, so long as they ordered it. It had to be a direct command, such as "Clean your room," or "You must go to bed now." A wish or request had no effect. I was free to ignore "I wish you would tidy up your room," or "How about going to bed?" But against an order I had no power.
If someone told me I had to hop on one foot for a day, I'd have to do it (having brothers like the twins, Fred and George, did nothing to help the situation). But hopping wasn't the worst command I could be given. If you commanded me to stab myself in the heart, I would have to do it.
I was in danger at every moment.
As I began to grow older, I learned to delay the inevitable obedience, but every moment cost me much—I became breathless, experienced nausea and dizziness, as well as many other grievances. I never could hold out for long. Even a few minutes were a desperate struggle.
I had a wizard that watched over me, and Mother asked him to take the curse away. But the wizard said that Lucinda was the only one who knew the countercurse and that he could not do anything to remove it. However, he also said that it might be broken someday without Lucinda's help.
But I didn't know how. I didn't even know who the wizard was.
********
Instead of quieting me down, the curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally.
Bill rarely insisted I do anything, despite the fact that he was the man of the house most of the time. Father and Percy knew nothing of the curse and saw me too infrequently to issue many commands. But Mother could be bossy at times and gave commands often. They were kind, for-your-own-good types of things. "Make sure to wear a scarf, Ginny." Or "Hold this bowl while I beat the eggs."
Despite their harmlessness, I disliked these commands. I'd hold the bowl, but walk around so she'd have to follow me around the kitchen. She would call me a scarlet woman and try to pin me with more specific instructions; I usually found a way around those as well. It was often a long time before things got done, but I loved Mother all the same.
When I was eight, I started hanging around Fred and George more often. Usually, I tagged along behind Ron as we were closest in age, but my attentions shifted sometimes and I was going through a prankster phase, I guess.
They knew that I followed orders if they were given to me, but not because of the curse. Mother was in the kitchen, giving me orders to help out with the cooking. Naturally, I refused. When I came back outside with some treacle tarts for me and the twins, they simultaneously glanced at me.
"Why don't you just do what Mum asks the first time?"
"Because I don't like to follow orders," I replied through a mouthful of tart.
Fred laughed. "Neither do we, ickle sister. But we always end up doing it."
"That's 'cause you don't have to."
"Yeah we do…Mum'll have our heads on a platter, not to mention Bill." George wiped his sticky mouth on his sleeve and regarded me curiously.
"You two aren't under a curse."
"A curse?" They both said, perfectly in sync. Curses, spells, and the like were rare. Witches and wizards were few and far between; many people didn't trust them, as they were mostly old and wizened grumps.
"Yes. If someone gives me a command, I have to do it."
"No matter what?" Asked Fred.
"No matter what," I replied solemnly.
"Can we try it?" George was wide-eyed in speculation.
"No!" I tried to change the subject. "Look, there's Ron. Go play a prank on him or something."
But they were already on a roll. "Here," said Fred, digging out a new toy, the Filibuster Firework, (it had come from China) from his pocket. "Hold this."
I struggled, but in spite of myself my hand shot out to accept the parcel.
"Fling it at Ron," said George.
"George!" I cried out in indignation, but her arm automatically shot out and the sparking thing blew up at Ron's feet. Ron was one of her favorite brothers and he shot her a hurt look before retreating into the house. "What did you do that for?"
"We didn't do it," they echoed. "You did."
I punched Fred in the stomach, hard, and kicked George in the shins. They both howled in pain.
Needless to say, Fred and George were no longer my favorite brothers after this. After punishing me for using physical force, Mother issued a real command: never to tell anyone about my curse. The rest of the family was informed (Ron forgave me for the firework), but I wouldn't have told anyone else anyway. I had learned caution.
When I was almost fifteen Mother and I caught cold. Following Mother's directions, Bill made what she called curing soup, made with carrots, broth, celery, and hair from a unicorn's tail. It tasted delicious, but we hated to see the long yellow-white hairs floating around the vegetables.
Since Father was away from Frell, we all huddled together in their room. I sipped my soup with the hairs in it because Mother, Bill and Charlie were all watching me. There wasn't really enough to go around, so Mother had two less hairs in her soup than I did.
The next day I was well and Mother was much worse, too sick to drink or eat anything. To make her feel better, I put cool cloths on her head while the twins told her stories. They were only old ones about wizards like Merlin that they changed around, but they made her laugh. Except the laugh would turn into a cough.
Before I was sent off for the night, Mother kissed me. "Good night. I love you, Ginny."
They were her last words to me. As I left the room, I heard her last words to Bill and Charlie, who were standing worriedly by her bed. "I'm not very sick. Don't send for your father."
The next morning, she was awake, but dreaming. With her eyes wide open, she chattered to invisible people, reciting what sounded to be strange spells and plucking nervously at her silver necklace. To us, her children, she said nothing.
After the physician rushed me out of the room, I wandered out into the hallway. It was empty. I followed it to the old spiral staircase and walked down, remembering the times Mother had laughed as she watched us slide down the banister.
We didn't do it when people were around. "We have to be dignified," she would whisper then, stepping down the stairs in an especially stately way. Most of us (except for Fred and George) tried to follow. Ron and I were particularly clumsy but fought it, pleased to be part of the game. But when we were all alone, we preferred to slide and yell all the way down. And run up for another ride, and a third, and a fourth.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I slipped out the front door and into the sun outside. It took me a while to get to the old castle because Ron found me before I could get going. We walked there in silence, which was strange for him and for me. Anyway, I wanted to make a wish, and the castle was the place where it would have the best chance of being granted.
The castle had been abandoned with King James was small, but it was still used for special occaisions, for private balls, weddings, and things like that. Even so, Charlie said it was haunted and Bill said that mice lived there. Charlie also said that the candle trees had power. We went straight to the little grove. The "candles" were small trees that had been pruned and tied together so that they'd grow in the shape of candelabra.
We thought about what to do. "We need trading material," he said, scratching at his spiky hair.
I closed my eyes and thought. "I have one."
"Go ahead, then."
"If Mum gets well quick, I'll be good, not just obedient. I'll try not to tease the twins or bother Bill and Charlie so much."
"I'll try harder not to be clumsy," Ron offered. He was serious for once, which was weird.
We didn't bargain for Mother's life, because we didn't believe she was in danger of dying.
A/N: What do you think? Please review! BTW, for all of you who have read the book, they're going to make a movie on it starring Anne Hathaway. I hope it turns out well and I'm hoping this will get done before they do…though I might get more reviews if people see the movie first. LOL.
Disclaimer: The Weasleys, Potters, Grangers, Parkinsons, etc., all belong to JK Rowling. This story is based on the book "Ella Enchanted," which belongs to Gail Carson Levine.
That fool of a witch Lucinda did not intend to lay a curse on me. She wanted to bestow a gift, I suppose. When I cried uncontrollably through my first hour of life, she shook her head empathetically at my mother. My tears were her inspiration. Tapping my nose with her wand, she said, "My gift is obedience, my lady. Ginny will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child."
Naturally, I stopped.
Father was away at his job, with my eldest brother Percy. They were in a business I knew nothing about; however, my mother and brothers were there. Mother and my second eldest brother Bill were horrified, but they could not make Lucinda understand the terrible concequences of her actions. I can picture the arguments now: Mother's freckles standing out more than usual, her hair damp from labor, shaking with anger. Small Bill intense and still, the laughter gone from his eyes…he had always been astute about these things.
I couldn't imagine Lucinda. I didn't know what she looked like.
She wouldn't undo the curse.
The first time I became aware of it was on my fifth birthday. The reason I seem to remember it so clearly is probably because Bill told the story so often.
"For your birthday," he'd start, "Mother baked a big cake. It had six layers. She'd also sewn you a special gown. I think it was a dark blue, with a white sash. You were small for your age, even back then, and so you looked like a porcelain doll with your hair so red and your cheeks all pink with excitement."
In the middle of the table were flowers that one of my other brothers, Ron, had picked while playing out in the fields with yet another brother, Fred.
We all sat around the table; Father and Percy were away again. I was very excited. I had watched Mother bake the cake and sew the gown and helped Ron with the flowers.
My third eldest brother, Charlie, cut the cake. When he handed me my piece, he said without thinking, "Eat."
The first bite was delicious and I finished the slice happily. When it was gone, Bill cut me another. That one was harder to finish. When it was gone, no one gave me any more, but I knew I had to keep eating. This time I stuck my fork into the cake itself.
"Ginny, what on Earth are you doing?" Mother asked.
George, another of my brothers, laughed. "Come on, Mum, it's her birthday. Let her have as much as she wants." He put another piece on my plate.
I felt sick and frightened. Why couldn't I stop eating? It was starting to become hard to swallow. Every bite weighed more and more on my tongue, and the frosting became sticky like glue.
Bill realized it first. "Ginny, stop eating," he commanded.
I stopped.
Anyone could control what I did, so long as they ordered it. It had to be a direct command, such as "Clean your room," or "You must go to bed now." A wish or request had no effect. I was free to ignore "I wish you would tidy up your room," or "How about going to bed?" But against an order I had no power.
If someone told me I had to hop on one foot for a day, I'd have to do it (having brothers like the twins, Fred and George, did nothing to help the situation). But hopping wasn't the worst command I could be given. If you commanded me to stab myself in the heart, I would have to do it.
I was in danger at every moment.
As I began to grow older, I learned to delay the inevitable obedience, but every moment cost me much—I became breathless, experienced nausea and dizziness, as well as many other grievances. I never could hold out for long. Even a few minutes were a desperate struggle.
I had a wizard that watched over me, and Mother asked him to take the curse away. But the wizard said that Lucinda was the only one who knew the countercurse and that he could not do anything to remove it. However, he also said that it might be broken someday without Lucinda's help.
But I didn't know how. I didn't even know who the wizard was.
********
Instead of quieting me down, the curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally.
Bill rarely insisted I do anything, despite the fact that he was the man of the house most of the time. Father and Percy knew nothing of the curse and saw me too infrequently to issue many commands. But Mother could be bossy at times and gave commands often. They were kind, for-your-own-good types of things. "Make sure to wear a scarf, Ginny." Or "Hold this bowl while I beat the eggs."
Despite their harmlessness, I disliked these commands. I'd hold the bowl, but walk around so she'd have to follow me around the kitchen. She would call me a scarlet woman and try to pin me with more specific instructions; I usually found a way around those as well. It was often a long time before things got done, but I loved Mother all the same.
When I was eight, I started hanging around Fred and George more often. Usually, I tagged along behind Ron as we were closest in age, but my attentions shifted sometimes and I was going through a prankster phase, I guess.
They knew that I followed orders if they were given to me, but not because of the curse. Mother was in the kitchen, giving me orders to help out with the cooking. Naturally, I refused. When I came back outside with some treacle tarts for me and the twins, they simultaneously glanced at me.
"Why don't you just do what Mum asks the first time?"
"Because I don't like to follow orders," I replied through a mouthful of tart.
Fred laughed. "Neither do we, ickle sister. But we always end up doing it."
"That's 'cause you don't have to."
"Yeah we do…Mum'll have our heads on a platter, not to mention Bill." George wiped his sticky mouth on his sleeve and regarded me curiously.
"You two aren't under a curse."
"A curse?" They both said, perfectly in sync. Curses, spells, and the like were rare. Witches and wizards were few and far between; many people didn't trust them, as they were mostly old and wizened grumps.
"Yes. If someone gives me a command, I have to do it."
"No matter what?" Asked Fred.
"No matter what," I replied solemnly.
"Can we try it?" George was wide-eyed in speculation.
"No!" I tried to change the subject. "Look, there's Ron. Go play a prank on him or something."
But they were already on a roll. "Here," said Fred, digging out a new toy, the Filibuster Firework, (it had come from China) from his pocket. "Hold this."
I struggled, but in spite of myself my hand shot out to accept the parcel.
"Fling it at Ron," said George.
"George!" I cried out in indignation, but her arm automatically shot out and the sparking thing blew up at Ron's feet. Ron was one of her favorite brothers and he shot her a hurt look before retreating into the house. "What did you do that for?"
"We didn't do it," they echoed. "You did."
I punched Fred in the stomach, hard, and kicked George in the shins. They both howled in pain.
Needless to say, Fred and George were no longer my favorite brothers after this. After punishing me for using physical force, Mother issued a real command: never to tell anyone about my curse. The rest of the family was informed (Ron forgave me for the firework), but I wouldn't have told anyone else anyway. I had learned caution.
When I was almost fifteen Mother and I caught cold. Following Mother's directions, Bill made what she called curing soup, made with carrots, broth, celery, and hair from a unicorn's tail. It tasted delicious, but we hated to see the long yellow-white hairs floating around the vegetables.
Since Father was away from Frell, we all huddled together in their room. I sipped my soup with the hairs in it because Mother, Bill and Charlie were all watching me. There wasn't really enough to go around, so Mother had two less hairs in her soup than I did.
The next day I was well and Mother was much worse, too sick to drink or eat anything. To make her feel better, I put cool cloths on her head while the twins told her stories. They were only old ones about wizards like Merlin that they changed around, but they made her laugh. Except the laugh would turn into a cough.
Before I was sent off for the night, Mother kissed me. "Good night. I love you, Ginny."
They were her last words to me. As I left the room, I heard her last words to Bill and Charlie, who were standing worriedly by her bed. "I'm not very sick. Don't send for your father."
The next morning, she was awake, but dreaming. With her eyes wide open, she chattered to invisible people, reciting what sounded to be strange spells and plucking nervously at her silver necklace. To us, her children, she said nothing.
After the physician rushed me out of the room, I wandered out into the hallway. It was empty. I followed it to the old spiral staircase and walked down, remembering the times Mother had laughed as she watched us slide down the banister.
We didn't do it when people were around. "We have to be dignified," she would whisper then, stepping down the stairs in an especially stately way. Most of us (except for Fred and George) tried to follow. Ron and I were particularly clumsy but fought it, pleased to be part of the game. But when we were all alone, we preferred to slide and yell all the way down. And run up for another ride, and a third, and a fourth.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I slipped out the front door and into the sun outside. It took me a while to get to the old castle because Ron found me before I could get going. We walked there in silence, which was strange for him and for me. Anyway, I wanted to make a wish, and the castle was the place where it would have the best chance of being granted.
The castle had been abandoned with King James was small, but it was still used for special occaisions, for private balls, weddings, and things like that. Even so, Charlie said it was haunted and Bill said that mice lived there. Charlie also said that the candle trees had power. We went straight to the little grove. The "candles" were small trees that had been pruned and tied together so that they'd grow in the shape of candelabra.
We thought about what to do. "We need trading material," he said, scratching at his spiky hair.
I closed my eyes and thought. "I have one."
"Go ahead, then."
"If Mum gets well quick, I'll be good, not just obedient. I'll try not to tease the twins or bother Bill and Charlie so much."
"I'll try harder not to be clumsy," Ron offered. He was serious for once, which was weird.
We didn't bargain for Mother's life, because we didn't believe she was in danger of dying.
A/N: What do you think? Please review! BTW, for all of you who have read the book, they're going to make a movie on it starring Anne Hathaway. I hope it turns out well and I'm hoping this will get done before they do…though I might get more reviews if people see the movie first. LOL.