When Ginny looses her memory, old rivals become reacquainted, nerves grow thin, and seven people must relearn what it means to love. Romance, jealousy, and fellowship lead this group nearly insane, but not without a few lessons in life. Action/Adventure. Pg-13 for: Violence, language, and some sexual content. Prologue below, remember, this is only the prologue, so it's short and sweet.
Red and yellow molded quite well from a bird's eye view. Especially on a cloudy day, when sunlight didn't give any shine to make the red appear any bit orange. It was simple, pure, entwined together, as if they were two whole parts of a new, unseen color.
It was warm; there was no doubt about that. Summer seemed to have shortened its span into just a few hours. Precious hours. Hours of uninterrupted laughter and play. Hours of nonchalant dispositions. No wonder it seemed to compress itself, these were happy things, and everyone knew happy things wore off quickly. The less you appreciated something, the more unnoticed it became. Sometimes these things were taken for granted, sometimes they were just forgotten. And so the tale begins, a journey commences, without any realization. The human race is capable of exploring the world just by looking beyond their own eyes, the brighter ones, mindful to their exposure to the primitive world around them.
Under the magnolia tree, sat young Ginny Weasley, occupying a small yellow flower. It was the first to bloom in the garden, the yellow summertime plant, yet it was her favorite. She sat and brushed the tops of her fingers across its broad petals her head in the sky, watching the fluffy balls of cotton float in the blue space above her. Daydreaming, alright, she lost all concept of time and let her subconscious guide her actions through most of the course of the day. And somewhere above her laid answers to all her questions, to all her mortal desires. Reaching did no good; it was too far above her capacity. Ginny Weasley was not much of a talker; she was more a dreamer, a silent one at that. She often spoke inside of herself instead of to others, which, really, caused some of her faults. In the midst of dreaming, she awakened very quickly once she was distracted.
"Where the bloody hell is Ginny?" a loud voice shook from somewhere behind her. It sounded male, a deep, annoyed, male voice. Ron.
She quickly became very alert and arched her back upwards, propelling the rest of her body with it. Leaping form the rock, she felt her feet become emerged in the soft soil beneath her. Tossing the magnolia aside, she sprinted towards the Weasley home, the Burrow. It wasn't a short distance, either. Splashing into creeks and hoping over logs, she became ever closer to her destination. The wailing prevailed. Faster she ran, until her feet became almost numb. Over the picket fence, smashing into the flower bed, swinging around willows, she finally made her way onto the Burrow's back porch where her brother resided, his hands in his pockets, looking rather peeved.
She looked down. Filthy, from head to toe. Her white cotton dress had multitudes of stains, ranging from dirt to berries, water stains to flower stems. Her hair, long, wavy, normally beautiful, was limp and wet, sticking to her back. Even her pronounced freckles seemed lost amongst the dirt.
"You knew we were having company today," he brotherly lectured.
"Must have slipped my mind," she began, an innocent look plastered on her face, "besides, you don't actually call them company, do you?"
"That's not the point!" Ron exclaimed, his face becoming as red as his hair. Not from anger did this occur, but from humiliation.
Ginny surveyed her brother, he was dressed nicely, beige shorts, a white polo shirt, hair combed. She shrugged.
"Mom's going to kill you," he said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he slipped inside the back door. Ginny quickly followed with a look of apprehension on her face.
She switched her gaze across the living room and across the hallway. Nobody, good. She crept up the stairs quietly and into her bedroom. Her room was white, a blue and red quilt that her mum had made pulled across her bed. Across from her bed laid a brush and mirror, atop a dresser. It was small, but she took a liking to it since it was the only bedroom in the house that wasn't shared with another family member. This was her room. It wasn't her brother's hand-me-down robes, or her father's quills, or even the family owl. It was simply hers. She sighed silently as she sauntered over towards the closet. In it laid not much of a wardrobe, more along the lines of messes of clothes. In it she discovered a dark blue blouse and a reasonable length skirt. Besides, she didn't own any short skirts.
Pounding footsteps could be heard two stories below, where currently Narcissa Malfoy sat with her faithful companion, Louise Dubose.
~**~**~
"Half-witted daftie," Draco Malfoy had learned a new insult.
Draco Malfoy's voice penetrated throughout the empty hall. Inside the Malfoy Mansion Draco and his companion, Vincent Crabbe, were having a whole hearted conversation. The mansion was not a friendly place. It was cold and empty, holding only four inhabitants, and a few house elves, well one less now. From the outside it seemed untouchable, large stones shaped perfect squares to make up the home. It seemed more of a castle than anything. Elaborate gardens and well manicured lawns gave this place an unwelcoming charm. Inside was almost as bad. Most of the house was made up of oak floors, the kitchen and bath areas, marble. Fancy chandlers and light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, dragonhide seats surrounded large fireplaces, statues, fountains, pillars, the list could continue forever. The fact of the matter was, the boy was rich. Very rich. And what other kind of child should inhabit an enormously wealthy family, than a sarcastic and selfish fair haired boy?
Currently situated in the dining hall, Draco looked disgustingly at his friend, "We cannot let father know we plan to..."
Cut off, "-to what?" a stern voice asked from behind the blonde.
"Father?" Draco questioned weakly, his back still turned towards his angry looking father.
"Explain," he said irritably while looking down on the tops of his son's white roots.
"Chucking paperweights at house servants isn't acceptable, right?" he asked.
"Correct," his father turned towards the quiet Vincent, "say it."
By now, Vincent was looking guilty, and a little sweaty at that. Loosening his collar from his thick neck, he spoke to Lucius Malfoy, "it wasn't paperweights and servants," he began, "it was..."
"What?"
"It was slingshots and gardeners," Crabbe said dully, looking from Lucius to Draco.
Lucius looked disapprovingly down at his son, "don't do it again," he roared, but no sooner was he interrogating than leaving.
Malfoy looked over at Crabbe, a smirk rising on his lips, "good job, for a second there, I thought you were going to tell father the whole thing,"
"Yeah," Crabbe said dumbly, following the pacing Malfoy around the table.
"Stay for dinner, it'll be the last chance you have until school."
~**~**~
Ginny had washed her face and combed her hair; she was now greeted with Narcissa Malfoy, not a pleasure, to the least. She groaned silently as she took her seat at the far end of the couch, trying to get as far way from the Malfoy as she possibly could. It didn't matter which Malfoy, because they were all the same. Being distant relatives of the Malfoys even gave her stomach problems, and having one looking disgustingly around the house as if it was a garbage shoot, was not appetizing either. Narcissa Malfoy constantly looked as if she had some sort of ordeal that was unpleasant, perhaps double now she was in the midst of the Weasley house. She continued on with the paperwork, however, touching the table as little as possible. She constantly referred to Mrs. Malfoy as "Female Malfoy Scum" inside her head. Yes, and now the Female Malfoy Scum is giving my father a very rude facial expression-hey! Stop that! Narcissa and Arthur Weasley spoke as little as possible to each other, apparently avoiding eye contact.
When the ordeal was over, Ginny was about to leave when the silent accompanist, Louise Dubose prodded her back. The Female Malfoy Scum's minion. Ginny quickly turned around, and gave the older lady a frown, and continued moving towards her room.
Poke.
"May I help you?" she asked slowly, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"Sit down, deary, you're better has not yet stood up," she said with an evil grin spreading across her face, malicious yellow teeth and shallow black eyes.
Ginny, of course, figuring out the lady was referring to Narcissa Malfoy, made an equal disgusting remark, "And the Female Malfoy Scum will have to mind her business-this is my house, and I am not going to take an ordering to one of her minions."
There was silence. Everyone in the living room turned their heads towards the young Weasley girl, faces full of surprise. They had never expected anything of the sort to come from Ginny's mouth, of all people.
Narcissa Malfoy and Louise Dubose left the Burrow without a further word.
~**~**~
A/N-The prologue is always the hardest. Thankfully it's over and I can get a real start on the heart of the story. Pay close attention to the tiny details in the plot, the things you may think are irrelevant are sometimes the most important. Thanks for reading, and please review. I will try to update quickly, but the more review I get, the more motivation I have. Hopefully in a week or so.
