An: I promised Ginny would make a reappearance a while back, well she's finally here.
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The cloaked figure shifted, glancing around in a manner that was distinctly suspect, eyes darting around furtively before exiting Knockturn.
"Hey Ginny! Over here!" The loud shout rang through the air.
The black cloaked figure cringed, shoulders bunching up, body hunching in on itself before turning its head to look at where the shout had come from. Turning around the figure's shoulders relaxed as she saw who had called her name.
"Fred, George!" she hissed, "I thought we said I'd meet you at the pet shop down near Scrivenshaft's later!"
One of the twins raised his hands in defence, "whoa, don't blow your top, mum was nearly on to us!"
"Yeah Gin, really!" chimed the other, an earnest look on his face as he cowered before his much shorter sister, nodding earnestly.
The youngest Weasley had taken after their mother in the tongue-lashing and draconian punishment department, and even as a child her brothers had been wary of upsetting her.
To the detriment of her siblings currently quailing under her furious gaze her time at Hogwarts had done nothing to quash this, in fact it seemed to have the opposite effect when after those first tenuous weeks, under the droll voice and surly presence of Severus Snape her equally terrifying Head of House she really started to bloom.
A year in Slytherin had done nothing to temper her fiery rages, only serving to increase her worrying creativity at inflicting torturous punishments that were enough to reduce grown men to tears. Already one year in and her temper and propensity for inflicting harsh punishments on those who annoyed her was legendary.
"Hmph," Ginny glared at them suspiciously before deciding that they were telling the truth, then increasing her stares intensity, enjoying watching them sweat.
Just when it looked like they were about to erupt blubbering into tears she decided they'd suffered enough, turning her nose up in the air with a huff.
Really! Watching them cower was almost pathetic, her glare wasn't anywhere near the intensity and power of Professor Snape's. She was still learning how to replicate his impressive glower but so far no success.
"So did you get the goods," began the twin on the left, who cringed as she glowered at them impressively –if they were sufficiently recovered to be asking questions she clearly wasn't trying hard enough.
"Only," said the other, carrying on where his twin left off, "out of concern for our wonderful and most magnanimous sister's safety from our dear mother's wrath should items of less than repute be found to be in her possession."
She cocked an eyebrow imperiously. "That is to say," picked back up the other, "we would love to see what our loving, and most dearest sister–
"the apple of our eye, our stars, our moon, our most gracious and glorious sister–"
"vivacious is she," chimed the other twin, to which his brother nodded knowingly.
A smile tugged at her mouth, just the faintest upturning at the corners of her mouth, and she made sure to brutally crush it before either of the twins noticed.
"Indeed vivacious Ginevra, oh most wonderful and merciful Ginevra , indeed we only wish to see what she has procured," here he gazed at her imploringly with the look of a sad put-upon dog while his twin continued with the sucking up.
"Of course only so that we might prevent and misfortune on her part should the item in questions arise the suspicion of our dear mother–"
"Oh most definitely." The declaration was followed by more nodding.
"Undoubtedly!" Fred, George, whichever, brought their pleads to a close with a cry. "So Gin what do you say? Can we see?"
Ginny fixed their now positively angelic faces with their trembling lips and wet eyes with her very best sneer.
She lasted perhaps a minute. Try hard as she might she inevitably crumpled at the sight of their faces, turning her head away from the sight in disgust, thrusting the heavily wrapped box she'd procured down the alley at them.
They tore through the multiple layers of charmed smell proof wrapping with looks of absolute glee; really, and people said she was the youngest!
Well it might be true but clearly she was the most mentally developed of the lot, all it took was a shiny new, or in this case smelly, toy and their brains reverted to the minds of four year olds. She watched the dance around the street clutching their new toy with disgust.
The twins had commissioned her to acquire a very particular cursed cheese, "two weeks of diarrhea upon ingestion guaranteed," since as they put it she was the one who had an in with, "those shady Knockturn types."
Being the benevolent, and loving, kind person she was, she'd agreed after slamming them with a hefty fee, with the agreement that they'd keep their mother distracted while she got 'the goods'.
What? it wouldn't do to let them get too complacent and think she'd do something like that for free just because she was their sister.
Visiting Kaliacrofts, "Procurers of Rare Cheeses since 1788" hadn't been a particularly pleasant experience, but the generous compensation she'd so graciously accepted from the twins for her services made the smell bearable –the things she did for family, really!
Being family might immediately rate them above the rest of the rabble but it wouldn't do to let them get too ahead of themselves. Without her they were purposeless, free of direction or purpose. Why it was her practically her duty to guide them, to guide them under her firm, guiding, sometimes tyrannical, steely fisted, iron gloved, hand.
Thankfully they made it back to the Leaky Cauldron before she could get started on one of her rants about how, "Freedom is Slavery! Subjugation is liberation! Surrender yourself to these truths you pigs in human clothing!"
And so the annual end of holiday crowds that flooded Diagon continued on by, unaware of just how lucky they were that she hadn't spoiled it for them with a premature showing of the speech she'd been saving for her glorious uprising ever since she'd first shouted the words at her siblings at age four, hands firmly planted in front of her on top of a bit of pipe she'd managed to acquire from Arthur Weasley's shed to serve as her sword.
The masses, she consoled herself, weren't quite ready for her by now infamous –at least in the Weasley household, call to arms. She was still putting the final touches on it anyway.
Lost in thoughts of her glorious –and bloody, ascension to power she almost missed the voices calling their names as they joined the rest of their family at the leaky cauldron.
"Ginny! Where have you been dear?! Fred! George! I told you not to lose her!" Molly Weasley fretted over her children as soon as they were in sight, and Ginny bore her hugs and head patting with good grace.
Ginny liked it very much when her mother fussed over her. Molly Weasley was one of the only ones apart from her husband Arthur Weasley, and Ginny's older brothers Bill, and Charlie Weasley, who could get away with touching her so casually.
Well hugs from Percy were alright too sometimes she supposed, and she never turned down genuine affection from the twins. Ron was a bit of git but he was alright too she guessed. It was nice to have family.
She might have to lock them up in some hidden bunker somewhere for a bit though –just in case someone got any ideas about trying to stop her glorious revolt, it wouldn't do for anyone to try anything.
Unconsciously she blocked out the talking, and scolding –mostly on her mother's part that was going on all around her, her eyes going misty as she lost herself in visions of glorious conquest and the fires of revolution.
The sights of falling regimes crushed under her heel flittered past her vision accompanied by the sounds of terrified screaming and the chanting of angry crowds.
"Oh Ginny look who we ran into," Making an effort to wipe the dopy smile off her face she shook her head to clear the sudden cobwebs that had taken root in her brain, her mother was talking to her.
The Weasley matron was waving over a figure bearing a similar dark coat to the one she was wearing –now open over her clothes, who'd been chatting to the barman in a nearby corner.
The figure in question turned to them at her mother's shout, hair even redder than her own making its way through the midday crowd towards them.
"Oh, Harry!" personality doing a one-eighty she beamed up at him as the lanky boy made his way over, waving his arm lazily in greeting. She had to crane her neck to see his face, it felt like he'd grown a foot since the last time she'd seen him.
Behind her the twins shared meaningful looks, shaking their heads, "nutters that one." Luckily –for the twins at least, Ginny didn't hear their disparaging comments about her mental well being.
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An: Ginny's "Subjugation is liberation!" line is a reference to Satsuki Kiryūin's "facts of this world" speech. I added it when halfway through writing this chapter I noticed Ginny seemed to be sharing some character/personality traits with her.
Satsuki's speech in turn was supposedly heavily inspired by George Orwell's, 'Nineteen Eighty-Four,' and the slogans of the Party which featured within it.
I think it's fair to say which direction Slytherin Ginny's aspirations are heading.
