I don't own Harry Potter.

Ginny Potter looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

She looked at the expensive dress robes she was wearing. She examined her perfectly done hair. She inspected the layers of make-up she had caked on in Muggle fashion as Fleur had taught her years ago ("ze charms, zey never get it parfait"). The reflection staring back at Ginny was not that of Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter, star chaser of the Holyhead Harpies and the woman that was at the center of a certain Auror's world.

She looked like a porcelain doll

Ginny hated the porcelain dolls her Aunt Muriel had given her as a young girl (to encourage behavior that was proper for a young lady). The stupid dolls were delicate and breakable, so she could only play with them inside the house and they were useless in her make-believe games that were usually centered on some sort of danger (of course The-Boy-Who-Lived was always there to save the day). Then there were the ridiculous frilly dresses that they wore. Honestly, who wore lacy bloomers like that? How could anyone move with that many petticoats?

Ginny sighed. How had this happened? How had the little girl that hated lace and wrestled with Ron in the mud, grown into the woman reflected in the mirror? Her younger self hated wearing dresses, let alone dark green dress robes made of a rich material and embroidered with a fine gold thread that cost what her dad used to make in a week. Her younger self would have never sat still long enough to let her long hair be done up in a fancy twist, held in place with a couple of jewel-trimmed combs, a gift from the Minster of Magic. But her face was what really made her question the person she had become. Why was she trying to be something she was not? Her foundation hid most of the small blemishes and faint freckles that decorated her face in December. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched over eyes with stiff, longer-than-normal lashes. Her cheeks were expertly done in rouge to bring out her cheekbones. Finally her lips were a soft pink, just like those stupid porcelain dolls. It was unnatural.

Ginny sighed once more and began to add the final touches, the jewelry. She had just placed her heirloom earrings that once belonged to her husband's grandmother in her ears when a hand delicately placed her matching necklace around her neck.

"You look beautiful Love, absolutely gorgeous. Every man at this wretched thing is going to be envious of me."

Her husband leaned in to place a kiss on the back of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist form behind.

"You think I look beautiful? I don't look like some fake made-up doll?"

Harry frowned and carefully pulled her closer.

"Ginny, Love, is something bothering you? Aside from the fact that we have to sit through yet another night avoiding idiotic reporters and listening to obnoxious politicians? You know I would not be going if Anna wasn't making me…" He trailed off as he studied his wife's face. Something was bothering her.

"I just looked at myself in the mirror and felt like… I don't know, like I was some kind of fake and then you said I looked beautiful and it made me wonder . . .Forget it, we should go." Ginny broke free of her husband.

"Er… Wait a minute Ginny." He grabbed her hand. "I am not going to lie and say you look hideous. You would hex me if I did. You do look amazing, but always remember, I fell in love with you for who you are in here." He touched her right above left breast. "I fell in love with an amazing woman. A feisty, red head, who can hex my arse-off if needed, a champion Quidditch player, who has always known what she wants. No matter what you look like on the outside, you are beautiful to me. I feel in love with the woman in here. You could shave your head tomorrow and I would still think you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

Harry leaned forward and kissed her forehead before leaning his forehead against hers.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah…Harry Potter, when did you leant to give such passionate speeches? I might just have to keep a closer eye on you to make sure you are not out romancing other witches on the side."

Harry chuckled and pulled her tight against his chest. "Just giving you the same advice a very wise and beautiful witch once gave me."

"I forgot about that. I suppose I should take my own advice."

"Especially since we need to leave." He kissed her head. "When we get home I am going to show you just how non-porcelain doll-like you are."

"Promise?"

"Promise"

Hours later, Ginny felt much more like herself. After a wonderful cleansing shower, in which she had been able to remove all of the make up and beauty products that hid the real Ginny, she was now ready for bed.

She climbed into bed wearing an old pair of Harpies sweatpants and a t-shirt she had stolen from Harry.

Harry reached over and pulled her close to him. "You look beautiful Love, absolutely gorgeous."

She reached out and took her husband's face in her hands and gave him a passionate kiss. Sometimes she wondered how she could have been so lucky to be married to this amazing man in front of her. When they broke apart, Harry began stroking her long hair.

"You know I love you hair Ginny? Right? And what I said earlier about shaving your head bald …Well, I mean, I would never want you to shave your head…"

"You stupid prat! I have no plans of shaving my head or even cutting my hair! Now come here I do believe you promised me something before we left."

Harry smiled; it was one promise he was very happy to fulfill.

AN: This was inspired by the feelings I had one night years ago when I looked in the mirror while getting ready for a choir concert. The person staring back looked a lot darker and mysterious and perfect to be me.