Ginny's Escape
The corset digs in as I shift around on the stool trying to get comfortable. My sister Hermione and I have been subjected to women's work again. A proper young lady does not run wild though the streets as I do, or sit in on the maestro's lessons like she does. I look over and we exchange rueful glances. At least she is good at it; I am complete rubbish. The stitches in my sampler are knotted together and uneven. I was supposed to be working on a tree but at the moment it looks more like a blob of green.
The long tapers are nearly at their end before we hear Signora Pince's footsteps echoing though the palazzo. She has been our nursemaid ever since we are small and bears us no great fondness. Something that mother and father are all too pleased about. They believe that we should be raised in the strictest manner possible because not only are we girls, a curse on every family, but we are girls of the classe noblie. The utmost of propriety must be maintained at all times if we hope to make suitable matches. It is why these punishments are so strict.
Keeping my back straight and my head down I focus once more on making the tiny stitches that make our family famous.
"Vergine! Hermione!" Signora Pince's shill call rings out through the wide room, "Dormire! Sleep, we will finish these tomorrow."
"Si, Signora," We respond together, both glad to be shod of this task.
Although our day is technically done we still have to play the part of perfect ladies. Our gazes kept lowered, our voices soft, we are little more than decoration. That is during the daytime, that is in front of everyone else, when it is just us though, we are free.
"Venire! Come, girls!" The signora is extremely bossy, but I do believe that even she cannot come close to my dear sister.
"Signora, we know your feet do ache," Hermione has begun, "It would be alright if you were to go. We can manage by ourselves, after all it is only bed."
I can tell that Signora Pince does not want to disobey Mamma and Papa, but she has a soft spot for Hermione, her perfect pupil. She looks at us warily, and I know that our faces are shining far too brightly with the prospect of her departure; I am terrified for just a moment that she will not relent.
"You will brush your hair? Say your prayers?"
It is Hermione that answers, "Of course signora, we will be fine."
I cannot believe it when she nods her head and leads us to our bedchamber, then leaves, just like that. I jump on my sister in gratitude, "You are magnificent! How do you do that! This is fabulous!"
"It is not that hard when you are perfect, " she says with a wry smile and a toss of her curly hair, "besides I happen to have it on good information that she plans on meeting a lover tonight, not unlike someone else I know!"
I cannot even begin to be angry at this dig when there is such juicy gossip to be had. "A lover!" I exclaim with disbelief, "Signora Pince! You must be mistaken! However did you find out?"
"Ronaldo, he heard it from Harold."
Ronaldo is our brother and Harold our rich ward. I cannot stand either of them, such pigheaded fools there ever were. They can be quite pompous. The only reason that they put up with Hermione is because she will do their lessons for them. If father ever found out they would be in such trouble. But aside from their pigheadedness they can be quite useful, they tend to sneak around and know all the secret passages of the palazzo. Knowing all the secret passages can lead to knowing quite a few secrets, like the one about Signora Pince.
"Do you have any idea who her lover could possibly be?!" I ask with fervid excitement.
Although disapproving of gossip Hermione tends to know almost everything.
"Haven't the slightest clue," she says with a sniff, " now come on, you need to get going!"
She is right. Although the night is young I have much to do this night. Ronaldo and Harold's knowledge of secret passageways will come in useful. A young girl in my class is only worth as much as the price of her maidenhead. That is only the first girl child, because there will not be enough money for a second dowry. Second daughters are worthless, destined only for the convent. It is all right. This is Venice, and the convents here, are well, rather lenient is certain regards. So while on the outset they require their young ladies to be "pure" it is more a suggestion. Besides they would not want to turn away one of the classe nobile. It is practically expected that second daughters have a lover or two. All of this ridiculousness is really for Hermione's benefit. When the men of the classe noblie require a virgin it is NOT in name only. But for me, the city and all its pleasures are to be had.
Hermione is my dearest friend, my sister, and my accomplice. And I hers. After all where would she get the books that she so desperately needs if not for my paramour?
"Hurry," she says digging through the wardrobe.
I start undoing the complicated laces on the intricate red velvet dress. It is of a fine weight and feel, with gold thread stitching intricate details under my bust and around the hems of my sleeves. It is absolutely inappropriate for a night out, it is far to recognizably elite. I would be hauled off in front of the magistrate, but a boy would not, even a well dressed one. It is so blindingly unfair, but what can one do?
Hermione helps me undo the intricate style my hair is in, slipping out the little seed pearl charms that are braided throughout as she goes. When she is finished my hair falls in red gold waves. I hurriedly pin it back into a simple bun at the back of my neck.
My hair taken care of it is time to slip into the Pantaloni that my sister has swiped from either Ronaldo or Harold. A coarse linen shirt that is much too big goes on after that.
Hermione looks over, and sees me already in the outfit, " But your stays, don't you want to take them off? You won't be able to move as quickly."
"He likes to see me in it," I say flashing her a wolfish grin, " And you know, help me out of it as well…"
My sister rolls her eyes at my antics even as a faint blush stains her pale cheeks.
Next are the simple shoes of a boy or man. They are just plain leather sandals with a pointed toe and a wooden sole. Around the palazzo women wear simple little slippers in supple leather or satin, but going out we get ridiculous. The tops of our shoes are like the slippers we wear inside, soft and pretty with embroidery or embellishments but the sole is this wide wooden block thicker than one of Hermione's books. They are called chopines and are very difficult to walk in, but because of the status of my family I must be subjected to their length.
Finally finished dressing I grab a thick black cloak as Hermione pushes aside the tapestry of a fat lady dressed all in pink and pushes a brick that gives under her touch as a secret passageway is revealed. I kiss her on the cheek as I rush out.
"Good luck!" Hermione whispers as she carefully closes the stone door behind me.
Instantly I am plunged into darkness. I take a deep, steadying breath. I have done this several times; it will be okay. I start moving cautiously as my eyes adjust slowly to the bleakness of the passageway.
Our family is very old and our name well known. But we are poor, oh not by any of the commoner's standards, but by those of our class. The only thing that saves us is our good name. The palazzo we live in has been in our family for centuries. Every new generation tends to add bits and pieces to it. It looks like there are several different palazzos all mashed together into one. While my brother Ronaldo is very embarrassed by our house I adore it. It has such mystery and, of course, such usefulness. I do not think either Hermione or I could survive without them.
It's getting brighter and brighter as I round twisting corners and press up against slimy wet walls when the passage gets very tight. The door to the filthy back alley it light brightly as I pause to swing on the cloak and carefully bring the hood up to conceal my easily recognizable hair and face. Slowly I ease the door open.
The alley is rife with the smell of night soil and brightly lit from the windows of the opulent palazzos. I look carefully both ways before easing my way into the muck of the street and shut the door tightly behind me watching as it blends in with the rest of the wall almost seamlessly.
Although we have two gondolas it would not do to use one of them. Fortunately there are several you can take for just a few ducat.
I walk with purpose, not too fast so as to draw attention to myself, down the alleyway for a couple blocks until I can turn out onto the main canal far away from my house.
Noble women are not usually permitted access to money, men are afraid it would "taint" them. Lousy misers. The good thing about having several brothers is that you can usually swipe a few coins off one or the other and they will never notice. If by chance they do, they will always blame another brother. Sometimes being a girl can be quite useful.
As I reach the canal I can see several gondoliers crying out the benefits of their particular craft. I always choose the same one. Fabrizio owes my brother Carlo money for gambling and will not peach on me.
I hop in to the gondola and say in a slightly rougher voice that usual, "Same place as usual, Fabrizio."
He nods in acknowledgement and skillfully rows away from the docking area and out into the main portion of the canal.
"So my Lioncina what time should I return for you?" He queries as we weave though the other boats and turn down different canals.
I think for a moment before answering, "One, I believe"
"Ah, later than usual, you must have plans for tonight."
I am grateful for the hood as it hides my silly grin at these words.
Though the distance is not long I am anxious to arrive and it seems like ages before we finally do. Fabrizio angles his craft up to a little dock in front of a somewhat shabby apartment building. I leap gracefully out of the gondola and onto the dock and turn to answer Fabrizio's parting wave as he rows away and off into the night to ferry more people before it is time to fetch me back.
The apartment building where I have been let off is generally for bachelors but the Signora who runs it tends to be forgiving about "visitors."
I pull open the heavy door with blue cracking paint and arrive into the open-air courtyard. I make my way past the fountain that gutters rather sluggishly and up a pair of stone steps until I am before another peeling door. This one has a little window and from the light shining though I can tell he's already here. I catch my breath and remove the cloak. I undo the bun and run my fingers through the red waves. I pinch my cheeks to bring them color and wet my lips. I am ready.
I insert a heavy brass key into the lock and turn it. I don't even have it halfway turned before the door is thrown open and I am gathered up in a bone crushing hug and swept inside.
My lips are on his and my legs wrapped around his waist before he can kick the door shut. Releasing my lips he pauses to groan, "Ginny."
"Draco," I moan in response.
Author's note~~~
Hello and welcome to my first ever fanfiction! I am super excited for this story and have got it planned out nicely so don't fear I will not abandon it or you!
Now I already have most of the next chapter written so what I want you to do is tell me just how "fun" you would like it to be ;) it's pretty scandalous but i could always take that out.
Also this story is only being reviewed by me, so if you spot any grammar/spelling mistakes or are interested in reading it over for me pretty please with icing on top tell me!
Please review and enjoy!