3 August, 1999
I can't help but notice the crowds of people in front of the small shop front. Mostly children to young teens, all going mad over the small figure in the display window. I keep my distance; probably safer that way. Especially after the stories Steve and Lisa told me about professional Quidditch players being mobbed when out in public. Tony comes out from the coffee shop behind me with a steaming coffee for me. He hands the paper cup to me and takes a sip of his own.
"If they only knew the real thing is on the other side of the street." He says, tucking his hand in his pocket. I snort and glance up at him.
"But if they knew that, your job would become a lot more difficult, wouldn't it?"
"I don't think it can get any easier." I roll my eyes. According to Joan, Tony was sent all over Merlin's sweet garden looking for Cynthia time after time again. Cynthia apparently was always out to get herself in trouble. I'm sure Tony appreciates her replacement being a bit calmer than she was.
"Do you visit her?" I ask, curiously.
"Who?"
"Cynthia." I say, blowing on my coffee. "Did you two become close friends whilst you were her bodyguard?"
He let out a maniacal laugh, "Absolutely not. Cynthia and I never agreed on anything, and we definitely wouldn't now."
"Meaning?"
"Last time we ever spoke, she told me that she blamed me for getting knocked up. Said that I should have watched her better, and because I didn't, her career is ruined." He shakes his head, "Like I was supposed to walk into her bedroom and say 'Cynthia, no.'"
"Do you know what she does now?"
"She doesn't have a job if that's what you're asking." He says, taking another sip of coffee, "Come on, you have an interview in an hour and a half and we don't have time to watch your fans go crazy over a doll version of you."
I walk into the little sound booth alone. I know Tony is right outside the door, but it feels like I'm completely alone. I glance around the room at the little microphones and sound boards. There are two leather chairs on either side of the table, both with a microphone to go with it. I lean back to see if anyone is approaching the room. Looks like the coast is clear.
I walk around the table to the host's side and sit in his chair. The sound board has little buttons with labels under each one. My eye immediately is attracted to the button labeled 'Drunk Cow'.
Now I know what you're thinking; Ginny, you didn't push it, did you? How could I not have? With one more cautious glance, I press down on the Drunk Cow button and out pops the deranged sound of an elongated cow call. I giggle and look back down on the keyboard. The button above that is the 'Cackling Old Lady' button. Of course, I hit that one too and an almost screeching, maniacal laugh overcomes the room. Now, I couldn't stop there. No one seemed to be coming.
I look down once again and see 'Angry man'. A voice erupts yelling, in a southern, Scottish accent, "Get out of here!" I giggle at the man and hit the button one more time.
But the door to the room swings open and out comes a man in his mid thirties. In a very tired and annoyed voice, he says, "Don't touch that."
"Sorry, Sir." I say, getting out of his seat. He gestures me to sit in the seat on the other side of the table.
"Alright, Ms. Weasley, this is nothing special. Just act as though we're having a conversation and no one else is listening. Now, that being said, don't go swearing or babbling about anything inappropriate, or I'll have paperwork to deal with in the morning."
"Okay." I reply, taking a seat in my chair.
The countdown starts; five, four, three, two…
"Welcome, Wizarding UK, to five o'clock with Thomas and Lena. Lena, is out this week caring for a family member, so it looks as though today's show will have a solo host. Today's guest is Holyhead's very own, Ginny Weasley. How are you doing today, Ginny?"
"I'm doing pretty well, how about you?"
"Quite well, thanks. Now, Ginny, you're first name is really Ginevra, correct?"
"Um, yeah?"
"As in the spice, right?"
"I think so."
"So, that must mean you're pretty spicy, right?" He presses one of the buttons and a sound of drums overcomes the room. I guess that was supposed to be a joke? "But, no, we're not here to talk about your name, today, are we? Nope; we're here to promote your new action figure that was released just this morning. Am I correct?"
"Yeah." I reply, awkwardly. He pulls out a small, doll box that contains the Limited Edition Ginny Weasley Action Figure.
"So, how do you like it; knowing that you are now, quite literally, in thousands of peoples' homes playing tea party and what not?"
"I don't know, honestly. I was just told a few weeks ago that the action figure is coming to stores and I haven't really had the time to actually think about it."
"Oh, so you don't have any creative control over your own action figure?"
"Not really, no. I didn't have any insight on what she looked like, or what she was wearing, or-"
"Okay, because I was about to say you don't look like her at all." He laughs, I guess I'm supposed to laugh along.
"Yeah, I think they use the same generic doll and change her hair and eye color, sometimes add freckles and then call her by a different name. I wasn't expecting it to be an exact replica." I joke.
"So, along with this action figure, there's another breaking story about you at the moment." He says, putting the doll and down and picking up a copy of Witch Weekly. "I want to hear it from you, is this true?"
I blush as I look at the photograph of him and I on the cover of the magazine.
"Oh, I dunno." I instigate, "We're just very close."
"Really? Because in this article it says you were holding hands, sending each other looks, and sitting close to each other during the entire auction."
I sigh, we had spoken about this topic way back in June. We decided that we wanted to keep our private life private. Not to confirm or deny the rumors. Of course, attending events and parties was okay as long as we didn't get too comfortable in front of all the watchful eyes, "All I'm going to say is, let's just keep the press guessing."
Thomas laughs and plays the Angry Man sound effect. Hopefully that's how Harry wants me to answer these kind of questions.
11 August, 1999
Clicking the door locked, I walk down the corridor of the Harpies' dormitories. I knock on Tony's door, letting him know I'm off to the Pitch and start making my way to the front entrance. I turn around and see that Tony isn't following me. Strange. Maybe he didn't hear my knock. I decide to just keep walking, speeding up to get to the Pitch faster. Something seems off today. Usually, Joan is waiting for me before she leaves for the Pitch. Today, that wasn't the case.
I pass by the little shop with my action figure on display, a sign next to it reads, "Get your Ginny Weasley Action Figure today before they run out! Hurry up! She's selling out!" I continue walking, apparently I've been selling out for the past week, you'd think they'd run out of merchandise by now. I speed up as I see the Pitch in the distance. I look around and see a ton of people glancing at me, sending me questioning looks.
"Don't acknowledge people on the streets. That shows a desperation for fame and appeal."
Lisa's voice rings in my head. I keep my eyes glued to the ground until I finally make it to the front glass doors to the Pitch. I hear my heels clocking on the cement floors, no one is around. Have I missed some memo or something? Is it a Sunday and I'm going mad?
I push the door to the locker room open and notice the lights are out. Okay, maybe practice is cancelled. I point my wand to the lights and mutter 'Lumos'.
"Happy birthday, Ginny!" I hear the team yell. I can't believe I forgot. How did I forget? It's my birthday today!
"Thanks!" I reply, dropping my gym bag.
Swaddling me in a hug, Joan asks, "Thought we had forgotten, did you?"
"Quite the contrary." I mutter.
"Well, after practice, we're taking you out. Gwen's given us permission to leave an hour earlier. Probably so she can go home and snog Brendan some more."
"Yes, well in the mean time, get dressed. I want you out on the field in ten minutes." Gwenog says, walking past me, "Happy birthday, Ginny."
"Thanks, Gwen."
"Reservation under 'Silverstone'." Marie smiles at the lady. The host nods and takes us back to a secluded booth in the very back of the bar.
"Hope you enjoy your time." She says in a nonchalant tone.
I open the menu, "You guys really didn't have to do this for me."
"Of course we did, Red." Joan says, opening to the alcohol page, "We Harpies will take any opportunity to party."
"Alcohol?" I question, looking at her menu. I glance around the table and lower my voice, "We're not supposed to be drinking."
Joan glances at the others and then lets out a snort, "Red, don't tell me you actually follow that rule?"
"Well, yes."
"Ginny, that makes you one out of a hundred. You can drink before a game or practice as long as you're smart about it."
"But what about the Alcohol and Drug Inspectors?"
"What about them? Chances are you'll get away with it and then if you don't, you have to have a really good excuse." Mia says from the other side of the booth.
"Like?"
"One time I used the 'someone spiked my drink' card." Cecilia suggests.
"Once I said that the healers recommended it to me as a stress reliever. And when Maurice questioned it, I asked my cousin to write me a referral." Marie adds.
I take a deep breath, no, I'm not falling into it. I refuse to drink tonight.
"Come on, Red, it's your birthday. Let loose a little." Joan nudges me.
I shake my head, "I dunno."
"Well, then you'll be in charge of dragging our drunk arses home."
I stumble into my apartment and immediately tear off my shoes. Maybe letting loose was the right choice. Tony didn't seem too pleased with me, probably because breaking the drinking rule is something Cynthia would have done. But, like Joan said, chances are nobody will know and Tony will keep his mouth shut; I'm sure of it.
I turn on the lights to the kitchen and go to the pile of mail on my counter. It always seems to appear when I'm out of the house. I sift through fan mail, bills, and notices until I get to an envelope with a familiar scribble of handwriting.
Gin,
Happy birthday! Hope your day goes as amazingly as you are. Was lucky enough to get to a radio in time for your appearance, nice to hear your voice.
Love you,
H
I smile at his scripture and decide to stick the note on my cold cabinet, right next to the other letters from my friends and family. He's been gone for almost a month, and to say it's been easy would be a lie. This is the second time I've heard from him, I've checked the two way mirror but his face never shows up. Maybe they confiscated it when they checked his bunk. Or maybe he just didn't take it. Whatever the reason, it's nice to finally get at least a peep from his end.
I take out a cheese stick from the cold cabinet and decide to go to sleep. The next part of getting away with breaking the no-alcohol rule, is to, at least, sober up before practice tomorrow.
21 August, 1999
"And Welcome everyone to the Quidditch match coming from Holyhead. Today, we'll watch two undefeated teams go at it. First, the Holyhead Harpies, led by Gwenog Jones."
We fly out of the set of wooden doors around the field. I salute to my family in the family box and then line up in the middle of the field by the official.
"And their opponent, the Pride of Portree, led by Violet Young!" The fans dressed in purple go mad as their teams perform figure eights in the sky. I glance over at Sarah who's rolling her eyes in a mocking fashion. Seems like our team is pretty confident about today's match.
A girl with long, blonde hair takes her position in front of me. She turns to yell at one of her team mates, her jersey says 'Gordon'. So, this is the girl Gwen told me to look out for. Christina Gordon is her name, she's two years older than me, and has been a first string player on Pride of Portree for a whole year longer than I have. According to Gwenog, she has the same strengths as me and is about the same in rankings as me. She turns back around and makes eye contact with me.
She sends me a smile. Most people would say it is a genuine, warming smile, but to me, she might as well be telling me to go eat dirt. I send one right back at her.
"Will the captains take their positions in front of me?" The official's voice booms. Gwen and Violet both fly onto the grass and stand by the official. "Now, Gwenog Jones, Violet Young, please shake hands to ensure a good, clean game." The girls shake each other's hand and then fly back into the air, "Now, with my authority, I declare this match has begun!" The Quaffle flies high into the sky and the players scramble.
"210-200, Holyhead Harpies in the lead. Oh, wait, Weasley takes hold of the Quaffle, she weaves in and out of the crowd, but Gordon is hot on her tail! She flies around the hoops, she-oh that was a close one by the Bludger-she throws the Quaffle, and she scores! Ten points for Holyhead!"
Mia flies past me with an outstretched hand, I slap it back before turning to see where the Quaffle is now. Christina has it in her possession, I look toward Gwenog to see what her plan is she motions me to go after her, I oblige. Trust me, I oblige.
"Christina has the Quaffle in hand, she's flying toward the hoops! Looks like she i-oh wait, looks like Barker sees the snitch! He's shooting toward the ball. Looks like Sarah Donaldson doesn't see it, though! She better look harder, looks like Barker is about to-and he caught it! A hundred and fifty points to Portree! Portree wins!"
I feel my stomach drop. We lost? We lost.
"Nice match, today. 350-220, in the Pride of Portree's favor. Better luck next time, Harpies! Thank you for coming out this afternoon folks, make sure you stop by the merchandise tables and pick up a souvenir!"
We fly into the wooden doors, I slam my broomstick onto the ground. How did this happen? We were in the lead!
We go into the locker room, everyone is angry; slamming things into their lockers, not saying a word to each other. It's obviously Sarah's fault we lost, I mean, maybe she should get her eyes checked; I could see the Snitch from where I was at.
"Practice. Monday. Starts eight o'clock sharp. Hope you enjoyed Ginny's birthday celebration because that's the last time I'm ever letting you girls out early." Gwenog says from the doorway. She turns on her heels and exits the room. It's done. We lost.
I walk up the stairs of the stands until I get to my family's box, they're all watching me with sad eyes.
"We're sorry, Ginbug." My dad says, swaddling me in a hug.
"We were so close." I mutter, before letting him go.
"I think you did wonderfully." Mum squeezes me tight.
"Of course you'd say that, Mum; you're my mother." She sends me a sympathetic smile.
"I may be your mother but I'm not lying to you."
"Do you still want to go out?" Bill asks, with Victoire on his hip. I reach out for the sleepy child and take her in my arms. She lays her head on my shoulder and wraps her pudgy arms around my neck.
I kiss her head and give her a tight squeeze, "No, I'd rather just head home. Maybe get some sleep." I hand the toddler back to her father.
"Are you sure?" Mum asks.
"Yeah, I'm sorry you had to come out all this way, but I'm just not up for it." I say, hugging the rest of my brothers and their girlfriends, or wives.
"Well, we love you, Gin. You did great; don't let anyone tell you otherwise." George mutters as I give him a fleeting hug. I pick up my gym bag and send an appreciative smile.
"Thanks. I'll see you guys later." I turn out of the box and toward the exit to the Pitch.
