Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everyone you recognize.
Crack.
The sound of thunder echoed through the dark hallways of the Burrow, causing the various trinkets that filled the house to shudder slightly.
A second later, a bright flash filled the house with brilliant light before it immediately disappeared.
Ginny Weasley woke with a start.
Shivering from the pressing cold, she wrapped her comforter around her thin body more tightly before sitting up in bed and peering out her window.
"Wonderful," she muttered to herself. "Just my luck that it would bloody rain on my birthday."
Although it was still dark outside, Ginny could make out a thin ray of light peeking over the horizon.
After watching the sun rise from behind a mountain for thirty minutes, Ginny decided she may as well get up She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, only to hit them against her desk and fall to the floor.
"What a way to start the day."
Throwing on a dressing gown, Ginny glanced at her reflection and stopped to take in her form. At 5'8, Ginny's family and friends liked to refer to her height as "model tall." However, her comparison to models ended there. She had a decent figure, but it was hardly ever seen. One of the side effects of being a Weasley meant that her family could never afford new clothes for her. Thus, she was left to wear her brother's hand-me-downs. Since they were all a lot bigger than Ginny, the clothes gave the illusion of a bulkier form.
She studied her mop of unruly hair with a critical eye. It hung down her map in a mess of curls that was not necessarily flattering. She often pulled it back into a messy ponytail or plait to keep it under control. Like the rest of the Weasley family, her hair was bright red and was often compared to the color of a flame. She hated it. Every time she blushed (which was often), it looked as though her entire head was on fire.
As much as she hated everything else about her body, her eyes made up for it. They seemed to have a life of their own and were so full of colors: cinnamon and chocolate-brown swirls with small flecks of gold and green. People who looked into them felt an immediate flood of warmth curl through their bodies and found themselves trusting and opening up to her easily.
Sighing, Ginny turned away from the mirror.
"No point in bothering with anything today," she said to herself. "It's not as though anyone special will be here to see me."
Although she would never admit it, she was extremely disappointed that her family didn't insist on throwing her a birthday party. She knew that money was especially tight right now, what with her father's hours being cut at the Ministry, but that didn't stop her from being slightly resentful
'Just once, I'd like to have something special done for me,' she thought longingly.
With a slight shake of her head, she cleared those thoughts from her head. It was her 16th birthday, after all! Deciding she would do her best to stay positive, she skipped out into the hall and slid down the banister before hopping into the kitchen.
"Morning, all! Can anyone guess what today happens to b.." Ginny skidded to a halt mid-sentence. Sitting between Ron and George, was none other than Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Ginny-Turn-Into-An-Incoherent-Babbling-Idiot.
"Er... I reckon today's Tuesday," Fred announced through a mouth full of pancakes.
He saw the look of horror on Ginny's face and, exchanging a look with George, snorted with laughter. Harry, noticing Fred and George's laughter, finally looked up to see a red-faced Ginny standing in total shock.
"Er... hey Gin," he managed with a straight face. "I, uh... really like your pajamas."
Ginny stiffened before glancing down and mentally cursing herself. Of course. Out of everything Ginny owned, she had to be wearing her most hideous blue and pink ducky pajamas.
"Goddess," she begged silently. "Please let me sink into the floor and die."
Everyone at the table erupted into gales of laughter.
"Ha ha... Hey Gin, I didn't know the circus was in town!" Ron choked.
"Yeah, with that red hair and crazy outfit, you could pass for a clown!" Fred gasped between chuckles.
Ginny felt tears prick her eyes as she stood there, thoroughly humiliated. It was bad enough that her brothers picked on her less than average appearance…but she didn't understand why they insisted on doing it in front of Harry, the object of her affections. Harry had always been very nice about it, but at the moment he was trying and failing to keep the grin off his face.
Finally coming to her senses, Ginny turned and tore up the stairs, trying desperately to keep her family from seeing the tears now spilling down her face and onto her hideously embarrassing pajamas.
"What d'ya reckon her problem is?" Ron asked through a mouthful of toast.