Author's Note: Based on the plot of "Mulan"... uh, yeah.... I don't think it's ever been done before because I've never read one. But, hey, this is the largest section in ff.net.... Oh, and, I'm not sure if it's illegal to quarter troops in England, it violates the third amendment in America, but if I research and find out that it is indeed illegal in Britain... it'll throw my story off course. Ergo, I will not research upon the subject. Ignorance is not a crime, right? *waves little victorious flags*
Disclaimer: All licensed characters are the property of, but not limited to, Joanne Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Scholastic, et cetera. Mulan (the American animation) is copyrighted by Disney, but the story itself is adapted from the Chinese tale of Hua Moc Lan and well... nobody really owns non-fiction stories, sooo.... let's get started, now, shall we?
Rating: PG-13. Graphic violence and intense language.
British Mulan
Chapter One: Quartering Troops
"By the order of the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, all capable males from every wizarding family is to be recruited to help serve his country and all that is stands for during the course of this war. The following member(s) of the Weasley family is to report to London, England at three p.m. tomorrow: Arthur Weasley. The other male offspring, from our sources, are already in the service of the British Ministry of Magic and do not need to report." A sullen-faced Stewart Ackerly folded up the letter and handed it to Arthur Weasley, who took it with shaking hands. His face was ghost-white and was too shocked to respond.
"Arthur, you can't! You're too old for this sort of thing!" a sobbing Molly Weasley cried, clinging onto her husband's arm.
"It's an order, Molly, it's not my decision," Arthur murmured, half-heartedly trying to console Mrs. Weasley. He pulled his wife into a hug.
"But, you can't! There has to be some way!" Molly wept, turning to Ackerly. "Please, son, please tell them he can't go. Help us--help me--find a way. He's not capable of doing such things, anymore. Please, we'll do anything!"
"Ma'am," Stewart said his voice stern. "I have no say in such things."
"What do you mean you have no say!" a red-faced, high-tempered Ginny Weasley strode into the room, taking Ackerly's collars in her hands. She was amazingly strong despite her size. "This is preposterous! My father is nearly sixty years old! You go back to your leader and you tell him Arthur Weasley is not, I repeat, NOT going to report in! And if HE has anything against it, then he can talk to me!"
"Miss Weasley, if you do not release me this instant, I am going to have to arrest you on accounts of assault."
"I'll release you when you tell me my father doesn't have to go!" Ginny compromised.
God, this girl was persistent. "I already told you, I'm sorry! This is a decree from the International Federation of Wizards and we cannot make exceptions for anyone. Not even for your father. We are short on men and we hope you can cooperate."
Ginny stuttered. "Bu--but--you can't! You simply can't!" She tried to think fast. Come on, Ginny... "How--how 'bout I go instead of my father? I'm a very capable witch. I can take my father's place. This way, there will be a mutual advantage!"
"Ginny, what do you think you're doing?!" Arthur Weasley suddenly thundered, pulling his daughter away from the deranged man. "You WILL NOT participate in this war! It's too dangerous!"
Ginny bit her lip. "But, Dad.... I don't want to lose you."
"Nobody is going to lose anyone. I already have all six of my boys risking their life in this bloody battle, I'm not going to risk you too," Arthur looked at his daughter sternly in the eyes. His expression softened. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Gin."
"Miss Weasley, we will be delighted if you decide to join our forces, but you cannot replace your father in the recruitment, anyway. It goes against the order and you can be severely punished."
Ginny wasn't paying attention, but was looking at her dad, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. "But Dad...."
"Enough!" Arthur raised a hand, quieting his daughter. He turned to Stewart Ackerly. "Lieutenant, I promise I will report to Eastern London tomorrow afternoon. You may leave now."
Stewart nodded his head and Apparated out of the Burrow's family room. Molly Weasley was still weeping softly in the arms of her husband as Arthur led her to their bedroom to retire.
Virginia Weasley, instead of mourning, was breathing an air of determination. A plan was quickly brewing in her head. Images and ideas swam through her brain, and her lips slowly curved into a smile of intrepidity. She wasn't going to give up that easily.
*~~~~~*
Ginny looked around. Wasn't there supposed to be a portkey here that led to the recruitment camps? She fumbled through her heavy luggage, scanning the map. Yup. It's here somewhere. She rummaged through her backpack to retrieve a pair of glasses. Putting it on, she scanned the small hillock she was on. Something small... something useless... something dirty.... Ah! There! She ran over to an empty, crushed water bottle. Smiling in approval of herself, she picked it up and looked at her watch. 5...4...3...2...1....
Pop!
After some pulling and twirling, her feet touched ground again... and she was immensely thankful.
It was mere hours ago when Ginny's "Plan" was put into action. Her father and mother were both up, talking quietly to each other in their room when she entered bearing "tea". Her father teared up upon seeing his only daughter for what might be the last time. This only made the fire inside her burn brighter. She had smiled sweetly and put up an act about how she was going to miss him. She didn't leave the room until after her parents had drained the cup. Grinning proudly, she left the room to retrieve the letter she had written to her parents when they finally decide to wake up... which would be in a few days, at least.
That letter contained a detailed exegesis about why they shouldn't come after her to stop her. Since she knew her parents were worried about her safety, she had put strong emphasis on the fact that if they told on her, the Ministry would have punished her for forgery and the likes, putting her in more trouble. Plus, she had added with an afterthought, she doubted that the Ministry would let amateurs like her do anything dangerous. And, she would be surrounded by very powerful warlocks and wizards, further ensuring her safety. So Mum, Dad, don't worry about your precious little daughter, she promises she'll come home in one piece.
So, with that said and done, Ginny had packed her bags with her brother's old clothing that fit her fine and had taken her father's armor, shrinking it to the correct size. There was only one problem left. Her appearance. She winced. Was she really going to be able to cut off her hair? Her beautiful, treasured curls? The three feet of protein growing off her head? Well, when you put it that way... it didn't seem so bad, after all. So, with her eyes shut and hair styling knowledge in mind, she took a pair of scissors and grasped a lock of her hair.
Snip.
Snip.
Snip.
Snip.
There. That wasn't so bad, was it? Right? She looked just fine with red hair the same style as her brother Ron's... just fine. She broke down. Who was she kidding?! She looked horrible! She already missed the gorgeous crimson mane. She wanted it back! Looking down at the feet long curls at the base of her feet, her eyes started to well up. But! She held her head up high. She was doing this for a good cause. Yep. A good cause.
Then there were the, erm, other womanly matters. She looked down. Her bosoms weren't, well, very noticeable, so that wouldn't be a big problem. She just had to remember not to wear tight clothing. And maybe wrap it with a long piece of cloth to suppress it. Ouch. Uncomfortable. But! She reminded herself again. This was for a good cause.
As for the other part of her womanhood. Forget it. No matter how good of a cause she was working for, she was not, she repeats, NOT going to change that! Plus, she added with an afterthought, she didn't know how.
So, with maps and legal papers in hand, she Apparated to the sight of the portkey. Which brings us to the current point of the story.
She looked around.
There were tents and tents put up for as far as she could see and men were running in and out of them... in many states of inappropriateness.
She suppressed a blush and walked to a line full of new trainees, trying desperately not to look around. She felt so foreign. So alienated. So different. Well, she was different. And being the only female here... she ought to watch her back. She tried not to let her thoughts wander when it was her turn.
"Name?" a skinny man with a severe case of acne asked.
"Um...." Did she dare claim to be Arthur Weasley? She suddenly panicked. She didn't think about this. She had planned to replace her father, but now that she thought about it, it was a preposterous idea. Wouldn't somebody notice that she looked a little more than forty years younger than the real Arthur Weasley? But, wouldn't they ask where Arthur Weasley was if she made up another name?
"Did you hear me?" the man repeated, sounding annoyed. "What is your name? Or do you not speak English?"
"Oh! Um," Ginny jumped slightly. Then, hearing her high-pitched squeak, tried to deepen her voice and grunted out, "Uh, Weasley."
The man, fortunately for Ginny, took that as an adequate response. "Uh-huh. Weasley. Your tent is number 156. You'll be sharing it with three other mates. Remember to wake up every day at five a.m. for training and do not be late."
Ginny nodded quickly and skittered off, in search of her assigned tent. Good job, Weasley, not five minutes here and you've almost blown your cover. She was mentally slapping herself for her stupidity when another thought came to mind. Did he say I had roommates? Shit. That's not good.... Which one was it again?
Very hesitantly and nervously did Ginny push the door to the tent open. It had been magically expanded and looked like a small flat that could well suit four people. But she also noticed with fear that there were only two bedrooms, meaning she had to share one. She gingerly walked through the flat when a sudden commotion from he doorway cause her to look back. There stood three Aurors-in-training.
"Well, well, well... look who we have here," a burly wizard with a mean expression approached her. "You must be Weasley."
"Yes, that's me," Ginny replied politely.
"You got any cash?" the man asked.
"Um, no."
He sneered, "Come on, it's not nice to keep out from your friends." He loomed over her. He was nearly twice her size and drew out his wand. This man was obviously the bullying type.
"Uh, sir," Ginny said, suddenly intimidated. "We're all on friendly terms here. There's no reason to use weaponry."
He smirked as the other man (obviously a crony and follower of the burly one) took her by the arms and prevented her from moving. Being only 1.5 meters tall really had its disadvantages. "Let go of me!"
"We will, if you'd just dish out everything you got. Or we can force you to," he drew his wand and pointed it at her. Ginny's mind was racing. This man obviously meant no evil (he was just a mean, bullying git who wanted her money) but she'll be damned before she let him curse her. With her wand out of reach, Ginny did the only sensible thing she was taught to do. She kicked in where it hurt most.
He howled in pain, clutching his crotch. His bodyguard let go of her and ran over to their leader. She turned around and ran for the exit when the burly one screamed, "GET HIM!"
Before she knew it, she was a heap on the floor with nearly five hundred pounds on her. She kicked, bit, punched, and clawed, but couldn't get out from under all the weight.
"What is going on here?!" a new voice thundered. A very familiar voice, she thought. She couldn't look up though, for she was still fighting her already-on-bad-terms roommates. They had obviously not heard the commanding voice and were still trying to beat her senseless. Then, after a few whizzing sounds they stopped and went limped on her. Struggling to get out underneath the heap, she realized the person had petrified them.
"Than--" she suddenly stopped when she found out who her rescuer was. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went as big as saucers. She scanned him from head to toe. From the leather boots, to the commander uniform, to the silverish-blond hair. She was facing Draco Malfoy.
*~~~~~*
Author's Note: PLEASE REVIEW! I really need suggestions! I appreciate each and every person who spends their time to tell me how they think of my story! Thanks so much for reading, btw!