These secrets with no one to tell
Everybody knew what this particular crease between Mum's eyebrows meant. A crease so deep it could have been cut with a knife. Whoever was at the receiving end of it was in big trouble. Ginny shifted in her seat. This evening, the glare that usually went with the frown was addressed to her.
Rubbing her clammy palms on her thighs, she glanced at Dad. He was sitting next to Mum, his hands clenched together, as though bracing himself for a huge battle.
"Ginny," Mum said in a dangerously low voice. "There's something we need to tell you."
The Burrow's sitting room felt a lot smaller suddenly. All Ginny could see was Mum's pair of brown eyes pinning her to the ground. She swallowed hard. Something was going on, something that angered Mum and worried Dad.
Ginny tried to mentally recap everything she had done these past few days, but nothing special came to her mind. She prefered locking herself in her room lately, for fear of bumping into Harry Potter and making a fool of herself. Unless… unless it was exactly that! Harry must have noticed how weird she acted around him and had complained to her parents about it.
Oh, no!
"It's not what you think!" Ginny said, a patch of red creeping up her neck. "It's just… Ron said Harry would stay for a few days; I didn't expect him to stay the whole month. And it's not that I don't want him here, I like him here. No! I don't mean ‒ I don't like him! I mean, I do, but‒"
"Ginny." Dad had mercy and interrupted her blabbering nonsense. "This isn't about Harry."
If it was any possible, the crease on Mum's forehead deepened. Dad sighed. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. For the first time this evening, Ginny noticed just how pale he looked.
She scowled at her parents. "What's going on?"
"Ginny," Dad said again. "We're sorry, dear. Your letter didn't come."
For some unbearable seconds, his words were left hanging in the air. Ginny knew exactly what he meant, nevertheless she asked, "What letter?"
Mum flinched, her mouth setting in a hard line. Dad reached over to hold her hand, but she recoiled from his touch. He stilled for a moment, pain crossing his eyes, then he balled his fist.
With a trembling sigh, Dad answered, "Your Hogwarts letter."
Mum swore under her breath, but Ginny didn't have the mindset to react to this uncharacteristic behaviour. It felt as though her heart had been snatched then shattered into million pieces.
I must be dreaming.
She had been waiting for this day ever since she first saw Bill walk through the barrier of Platform 9 3/4. She was supposed to be sorted into Gryffindor and become Quidditch captain like Charlie. Percy had promised to help her in Potions and Transfiguration. Fred and George had sworn they would let her get involved in the making of their pranks. She had spent sleepless nights talking with Ron about his adventures in the castle.
I must be dreaming!
Ginny's throat burnt, forming a silent scream. Suddenly, it became impossible to breathe. Tears burst forth, spilling down her face. In an instant, her parents were by her sides, holding her close.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Dad said again and again.
Mum cupped Ginny's face and stared right into her eyes. The glare had morphed into a fierce look. "Don't cry, dear. It's okay. Everything will be okay," she promised.
Ginny wished she wouldn't lie to her.
"I asked Dumbledore about it. He said it was a good school."
"I know!"
"Why are you crying then?"
"Oh, Arthur!... A Squib!... Our baby girl…"
"Do you think I'm not aware of what she is?"
"Where did we go wrong?"
"For Merlin's sake! It isn't our fault!"
Ginny turned her back to the kitchen door and climbed up the stairs as quickly as she could. She could taste the bitterness of tears in her throat. She had enough of her parents' rows, of the worried looks she got at dinners, of Mum's quiet sobs in the bathroom every morning. She needed the safety of her room.
It had been five days since she had been declined enrolment at Hogwarts; only five days and Dumbledore had managed to find her a 'good school' as Dad put it. Sod the lot of them! No school was good enough when you could go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, not even St George's Catholic School For Girls.
"Ginny?"
Ginny jumped out of her skin. She was so entranced by her thought, she hadn't noticed Ron waiting in her doorway.
She had been even more careful to avoid Harry and her brothers lately, too mortified by the fact that she was defective, like one of those Muggle products Dad had to inspect for his work. Unlike her, Harry and Ron were perfect.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck and Ginny realised a little too late that she was glaring.
"Er‒" He looked down at his feet. "Fancy a fly?"
"It's ten in the evening, Ron." Her voice came out harsher than intended.
"It never stopped us before." Ron gave a half shrug.
Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. "It's not like I'll be able to summon a broom, anyway."
"Oh, don't give me that crap!" Ron actually rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can't summon a broom, and yes, I'll have to do it for you. But this doesn't change the fact that you're the best flyer in the world." His expression hardened. "Who was the first to manage to stand on a broom for more than ten seconds?"
"I also broke my ankle that day," Ginny muttered.
Ron ignored that. "Who was the first to manage to fly upside down without falling off?"
"It took me months to do that."
"And who was the first to manage to do a bloody Wronski Feint?" Ron had pulled himself to his full length, his blue eyes pinning her to the ground. "It was you, Ginny."
Ginny looked away and swallowed her sob. She didn't deserve Ron.
Half an hour later, they were up in the dark summer sky. Ginny threw back her head and roared with laughter as they skimmed Mum's field of sunflowers. Behind her, Ron let out a loud whoop. She zoomed toward the orchard then circled the pitch, climbing higher and higher in a world where Ron and she would ride the Hogwarts Express together on the first of September.
Laughing almost hysterically, Ron shouted, "Told you you're the best flyer in the world!"
He was right. So what if she couldn't summon a broom? What if she would never join the Gryffindor's Quidditch team? What if she would never become captain or play professionally? She was still the bloody best flyer in the world.
She heard a keening wail before realising it was coming from her. One moment she was laughing her head off, and the next she was leaning heavily on Ron, tears running down her cheeks. What was the point of being so good at flying if she could never put her talent to use?
Ron swore under his breath. Grabbing the handle of the broom, he landed them gracefully in the middle of the orchard.
"Ginny?" he asked, voice uncertain.
Ginny let her distress overtake her and flung her arms around Ron.
"This isn't fair!" she cried. "I don't want to go to this Muggle school! I don't want to stay at Uncle Gaius'! I don't... I don't want to be a Squib!"
Ron's arms tightened around her. "I know," he whispered to the crown of her hair. "For what it's worth, you'll always be Ginny, the best flyer in the world, to me. Squib or not."
She looked up, eyes flooded with tears. "Promise?"
He gave her a tender smile. "Promise," he said, and she knew he was telling the truth.
It was almost midnight when they made their way back to the broom shed. Ginny was still sobbing on Ron's shoulder.
Uncle Gaius came to pick her up on Sunday morning. Ginny took one look at him and decided she didn't like the man.
Not only did he rudely refuse to set a foot into the Burrow, but he also looked like a pompous git. He was short with an immense belly. His thin gingery blond hair seemed to be glued to his scalp, and his small brown eyes were darting around in alert. Ginny's hands squeezed into fists. Sure, the Burrow's garden wasn't the best ‒ there were too many weeds, and the grass needed cutting ‒ but it didn't deserve the dirty look Uncle Gaius was giving it.
There was a squeaking noise behind a row of peony bushes, then a gnome peeked over the flowers and extended its middle finger toward Uncle Gaius. Uncle Gaius muttered something under his breath, his face contorting into a hideous grimace. For a brief instant, Ginny feared all Squibs were destined to end up as stupid and ugly looking as him.
"Thanks for doing that, Gaius." Dad shook the man's pudgy hand. "You don't know how much this means to us. You're really lifting a weight off our shoulders."
Uncle Gaius spared a glance at Ginny, then grunted.
Not for the first time this morning, Mum picked nonexistent lint from the sleeves of Ginny's midnight blue robes ‒ the ones she only wore on special occasions.
"You're coming back for Christmas," Mum told her. "Be good to Uncle Gaius and Aunt Celesta." She cupped Ginny's face and kissed both her cheeks. "We'll miss you, dear."
Clutching her trunk, Ginny simply nodded. She had promised herself she wouldn't shed a tear. Only chickens cried, at least that's what Fred told her when she was five. And she wanted her parents to keep the image of a strong daughter in their heads.
Dad hugged her. "Write to us if you need anything."
"She won't need a thing," Uncle Gaius spat. "Just 'cause I'm a Squib doesn't mean I can't provide for her."
"Of course." Dad flinched, red-faced.
Before their little exchange could go any further, footsteps pounded inside the house. They whirled around to see Fred, George, Percy and Ron standing in the doorway, still in their nightgowns. Then... Harry stepped out of the shadowy corner and appeared behind Ron.
Oh, no!
Ginny's heart skipped a beat. A deep flush crept up her neck and spread across her cheeks. He couldn't be here. He couldn't witness this.
No, no, no, no, no!
Harry caught her eyes and smiled awkwardly. She promptly ducked her head. Could someone please just kill her on the spot and end her misery?
"Best be off," Uncle Gaius said. "Quite a long drive to London."
"Yes... well... yes." Dad lifted Ginny's trunk onto Uncle Gaius' car. Ginny noticed some tears shimmering in his eyes as he passed by her.
"Here, dear." Mum handed her a small package. "I made you some sandwiches." She glanced at Uncle Gaius and quickly added, "In case you get hungry on the ride."
Uncle Gaius grunted again then got in his car.
Ginny met Mum's eyes. She couldn't remember ever spending a whole day away from her, and at this moment she wanted nothing more than to run into Mum's arms and beg her to let her stay at the Burrow. She would be a good girl, she would tidy her room, she would even stop sneaking out of the house with Ron in the middle of the night for a fly.
Uncle Gaius honked.
"Well," Ginny said to the Weasleys. "Bye."
Before she got in the car, she looked back at Ron one last time. With a sad smile on his face, he waved at her. Ginny returned his smile.
"Don't cry, love," Uncle Gaius told her as they drive away. "It's for the best. They'll never understand, they don't know what's like." He shook his head, almost in disgust. "Forget about them. You're one of us now."
Ginny watched Ottery St Catchpole disappear as the car rounded a corner. Ron, Fred, George, and to her surprise, Harry were running after Uncle Gaius' car, waving and shouting goodbye, until they couldn't keep up.
Wiping her tears away, Ginny decided now and then that the Burrow would always be her home, no matter what people said.
Aunt Celesta was the opposite of Uncle Gaius. Her aquamarine blue eyes always shone with joy and her wavy blond hair danced just above her shoulders. Her slender figure looked funny next to Uncle Gaius' plump frame. Ginny often wondered why a beautiful woman like her had married someone like him. Surely, she could have any Muggle she wanted; why settle for someone of his kind?
"How cute!" Aunt Celesta squealed upon seeing Ginny for the first time. She clapped her hands and jumped up and down like an excited child on Christmas. "I've always wanted to have a daughter! You and I are going to be best friends."
There was an almost hungry look in her eyes. Ginny was strongly reminded of Fred and George when they were window-shopping at Zonko's, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that.
Saturday morning, Aunt Celesta announced, "We're going to buy your school supplies."
"And teach you how to take the Tube," Uncle Gaius added, rubbing his hands together in delight. "We'll get you a Travelcard first. You'll see, love, you gonna love it."
But as it turned out, Ginny hated the Tube. She got stuck in the ticket barrier, which earned her several curious looks, and she couldn't for the life of her understand how anyone would enjoy riding this thing. It was small, always packed, and slower than Bill's old Comet.
And then there was what Aunt Celesta called the 'shopping centre'. It looked as if someone had shrunk all the shops of Diagon Alley and put them into a huge flashy box. Big posters and signs were displayed on every shop's door: Claire's Accessories, Ernest Jones, Sports Direct. Ginny suppressed a shiver at the sight of the girls exhibited on the posters. It was probably the creepiest thing she had ever seen; they didn't move at all, as if they were trapped in their frames forever.
"See that, love?" Uncle Gaius said when they climbed what he called an 'escalator'. "They don't have that in their world."
Ginny refrained herself from pointing out that wizards had flying carpets and it was just as good, if not better.
By the time they finished shopping for her school supplies, Ginny's head was swimming. She would have to use pens from now on, and she was to write all her notes in notebooks; it had been centuries since Muggles stopped using quills and parchments, Uncle Gaius had told her with a proud smile. Ginny was still processing how Muggle money worked – there were 100 pence to a pound, and Muggles used notes as well as coins – when they entered a bright pink shop.
"You need new clothes," Aunt Celesta said. "You look like you're freshly out of the Little House on the Prairie in this dress. It won't do in our world."
Ginny didn't know what this little house was, or why it being on a prairie was relevant, but judging by the tone of Aunt Celesta's voice, she understood it was an insult. Scowling, she watched as her aunt wandered through the shop shelves, loading up Uncle Gaius' arms with several different kinds of dresses.
"Try these on, Sunshine," she said, leading Ginny to the fitting room.
Ginny glared at the pile of clothes before her; most of them were so revealing Mum would have a heart attack. With a deep sigh, she took off her robes and shrugged into a white vest, before pulling on a pleated skirt that barely covered her thighs.
"Beautiful!" Aunt Celesta beamed as she looked over the outcome of her doing. Then something caught her eyes and her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, dear! We need to buy you a bra. In fact, we're going to buy you new underwears."
Ginny's breath hitched in her throat. Blushing furiously, she glanced at Uncle Gaius who simply snorted.
This was ridiculous! Completely inappropriate! What wouldn't she give to hex those idiots on the spot? Apparently, she wasn't good enough for the Wizarding world, but she also had to change everything about her appearance if she wanted to fit into the Muggle world. Even her bloody knickers!
Hands squeezing into fists, Ginny quivered with indignation. She glared at her reflexion in the fitting room mirror. Aunt Celesta was wrong, she wasn't beautiful at all. She looked hideous.
St George's Catholic School For Girls must have been designed by a maniac… Either that or a troll had sneezed in the hallway, leaving its lumpy grey bogies on the walls. Not even the few posters in bright colours could clear the overall impression of drabness of this place.
Keeping her head down, Ginny pushed through the sea of moss green blazers and tartan skirts. There was no Great Hall, no bewitched ceiling, no Sorting Hat and no banquet to welcome her; only the sound of loud conversations, shouts, and lockers opening and closing.
Ginny gripped her backpack. Everything would be alright, no one here knew who - or what - she was. And the way people were staring and whispering behind their hands? It was all happening in her mind, she was just imagining things.
Everything is going to be alright, she chanted in her head. She figured if she kept telling herself that, she might actually start believing it.
Dear Ron,
I asked Mum and Dad to let me have Errol for a few days so I could write to you. Of course, Uncle Gaius had a fit about it. He thinks I should use the postal service like 'every normal person'. I tried to explain to him that post letters don't get to Hogwarts, but I guess he is too big of an idiot to understand that.
Anyway, Mum told me that Harry and you stole Dad's car. I can't believe you flew his car all the way to Hogwarts! How was it? Better than flying a broom? You must have made quite an entrance. Please, tell me all about Malfoy and Snape's reactions! How many points did the greasy git take away from you?
I guess I should tell you a bit about my life here in London... It's rather boring. Everything is too big and confined at the same time. I don't have much to say about my school. I mean, we don't have flying cars or trolls hiding in the toilet here. Instead, we have mathematics, literature, and we talk about kings and queens I've never heard about.
The other day, I told my classmates I didn't know who Princess Diana was. They all laughed at me... I still have no idea what was so funny.
I have to go, Aunt Celesta is calling me for dinner.
Love.
Ginny.
How do people make friends? Ginny wondered as she watched Lauren Grimhill take a swig of her fizzy drink. At every break, Lauren would sit behind the science block and have endless chats with her friends. They called it their secret spot and only important people had the honour of sitting with them.
Lauren was probably the coolest girl at St George. She had long, blond hair that she wore in a ponytail, just like Bill. She was also an excellent football player, and always got the answers right in class.
Ginny sighed. Lauren was perfect. She was beautiful, smart, and popular. She told yet another funny story that made the little crowd gathered around her roar with laughter. Maybe that was her secret? Being funny? Well, Ginny could be funny too. In fact, she was hilarious. Didn't she come up with the Tadpoles-in-Jam prank last summer? And didn't she help the twins bake farting gingerbread men biscuits last Christmas? She had plenty of funny stories to share.
Hope fluttered inside her. Grinning, Ginny made her way to the group of girls. Today would be the day she finally made friends. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell them about the time Ron and she scared the ghoul in the antic with Charlie's old Longhorn dragon costume!
She stopped abruptly as a thought occurred to her; these girls were Muggles, she couldn't tell them about the Wizarding world.
Ginny's smile faded.
Lauren lifted her blue eyes and met Ginny's. The little crowd stopped talking and followed Lauren's gaze. For an awkward moment, they all stared at her blankly. Not knowing what to do, Ginny ducked her head and darted away.
She heard them laugh behind her back.
Dear Ginny,
I asked Harry about Princess Diana. Apparently, she is married to a prince named Charles. He will become the king when his mother, Queen Elizabeth, dies... I guess that will make Princess Diana the new queen. Harry said you can ask him about mathematics if you need help, he's pretty good at it.
Something weird happened yesterday. Harry, Hermione and I were invited to Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, except… well, this isn't the weird part. After the party, Harry heard voices whispering about murders and blood ‒ don't ask me about it, I didn't hear anything. Anyway, we followed the voices until we found ourselves before a huge wall. There, in bold letters, was written: "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware." And guess what? We found Mrs Norris a few steps away, someone petrified her. It was terrifying, I keep having nightmares about it.
I don't know what is going on, but this isn't looking good.
Take care.
Ron.
Dear Ron,
You told Harry about my letter?! Are you out of your mind? He must think I'm an idiot now! A boring, useless idiot! Do not, I repeat, DO NOT tell him about me ever again!
Now that this is out of the way... You went to a ghost's party? Oh, you have to tell me all about it! Did you have fun? What did you eat? Now that I think about it… Can ghosts even eat? Please, tell me everything!
Poor Mrs Norris. I know you don't like her much, but she is just a poor cat. Whoever did that to her must be a horrible person. Please, stay safe, Ron. I know how you three get when weird things happen, and as you said, this doesn't look good at all. Be careful, alright?
Nothing much is happening here. I'm writing this during my lunch break. I didn't eat much today, I never do.
Love.
Ginny.
Ginny hated P.E. Not that she didn't like sports per se ‒ far from it ‒ but P.E. meant teamwork, interacting with people, getting closer to them. Something that was completely foreign to her.
"What are you all waiting for?" Professor McAdams barked. "Everyone, form a line. Come on, hurry up!"
Professor McAdams was a bulky woman with short sandy hair and a very stern face, everybody knew she wasn't someone to cross.
Getting into line between Emma Young and Ingrid Montgomery, Ginny tried to calm her racing heart and got ready to face today's humiliation. She was now accustomed to the knot of anxiety that twisted her guts.
As usual, Lauren Grimhill and Valery Maguire were picked as team captains. And as usual, Lauren chose Emma Young as the first member of her team. Emma high-fived Lauren, then proceeded to make a fool of herself by squealing and snorting. A part of Ginny wondered what it would feel to be picked by someone like Lauren.
Mary Sanders was called next, then Julia Wyatt and Hannah Mowbray. Ginny waited. The line slowly decreased as more and more people were picked. Soon there were only Ginny and Ingrid Montgomery left.
Ingrid was an overweight girl with lots of bushy hair and thick glasses. She looked just as terrified as Ginny.
"Grimhill, your turn!" Professor McAdams yelled.
Emma smirked behind Lauren and whispered something in her ear. The two girls sneered.
"Ingrid," Lauren called.
Dear Ron,
I guess you are busy with your end of term exams, mine haven't started yet. I don't want to bother you in your study, so I will keep this letter short.
Uncle Gaius thinks I shouldn't write to you so often, he says it isn't good for me. He clearly doesn't know what he is talking about. Writing to you is the only interesting thing in my life right now. It makes me feel like I'm still at the Burrow and we are going to sneak out for a fly when everyone else will be asleep.
Remember when we spent hours in the orchard trying to learn how to summon a broom and you got so frustrated, you accidentally set Charlie's broom on fire? We got so scared, we tried to make it seem like the twins did it.
I miss you.
Ginny.
It happened on Friday, during the assembly. Ginny hated these assemblies mostly because they were led by Sister Dedain, the Headmistress of St George.
Sister Dedain was a very old woman with a very bored voice. Ginny wasn't sure what she hated the most about her; her stinky breath, her mouse-like face, or the fact that she seemed to take some malicious pleasure in publicly humiliating pupils who 'didn't meet the school expectation.'
Standing on the auditorium podium, Sister Dedain spoke into a mic in a drawling voice. "As usual, here are the students who performed the best and the worse this term. Starting with the first years." She paused for dramatic effect, then announced, "Lauren Grimhill, who received first-class honours with a score of 98%. Congratulations, Miss Grimhill."
Lauren beamed as a storm of applause swept the auditorium.
Sister Dedain's mouth twisted into a sadistic grin, revealing yellowish teeth. "And now, for the worse performance among the first years."
Ginny swallowed hard, heart pounding in her chest. She knew what was coming even before Sister Dedain announced, "Ginevra Weasley, who barely passed this term with a score of 33%."
A buzzing erupted in the auditorium as some older pupils shamelessly laughed their heads off. Ginny shifted in her seat, her throat clenching. She hoped no one beside her classmates knew her full name.
Alas, Sister Dedain stared right into her eyes and said, "I hope you will take this as a lesson, Miss Weasley. St George is a prestigious school and we will not accept such mediocrity."
Ginny nodded, doing her best to remain eye contact with Sister Dedain.
Then it happened.
"33%? Christ, but she's more stupid than I thought!" This was Emma Young's voice.
Lauren sneered. "What did you expect from the Freak?"
Ginny flinched. She had come accustomed to Emma and Lauren's taunts by now ‒ they were usually easy to ignore ‒ but that one taunt hit too close to home. Whether she had meant it or not, Lauren was right. It wasn't normal for Ginny to struggle so much at something that seemed so easy to everyone else. Something was wrong with her, something that made her a freak.
Ginny ducked her head and hoped her long hair would hide her wet eyes.
Dear Ron,
I don't have much to say, I just felt like writing to you... It's freezing here in London. How is the weather at Hogwarts? I can't wait to see you on Christmas break.
Well… write to me when you can.
Ginny.
"The boys stayed at Hogwarts," was the first thing Mum told her when Ginny arrived at the Burrow on Christmas break.
"But... Ron..."
"Sorry, dear. Ron stayed with Harry." Mum gave an apologetic smile. "You know how he is; Harry had no one to spend the holidays with so..."
So what?
Wasn't she Ron's sister? Wasn't she also virtually alone for the holidays? Wouldn't it be normal for Ron to choose her over Harry? But then something occurred to her and the pit of her stomach fell.
Who would choose a Squib over the Boy-Who-Lived?
Ginny forced a smile. "Right."
"Well sit down, then. I'll make you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry," she said at once then hurried up to her room, locking the door behind her.
She looked up at the beaming sun and squeezed her eyes shut. The sky was way too bright for a winter morning.
She seemed to be in a meadow; tall grasses and wildflowers were caressing her legs. It was a peaceful view, yet goosebumps raced over her skin. Something told her she needed to run and hide away.
"There you are."
She spun around. Ron was standing under a tree, a smile plastered on his face.
"Fancy a fly?"
Her heart leapt. Without a second thought, she ran towards him. Suddenly, the ground under her feet turned muddy. The wildflowers ensnared her legs, binding her tightly. The more she struggled against them, the more she sank into the mud.
Panic assailed her. "Help me!" she cried.
Ron didn't move. His smile morphed into a feral grin. "Look at that stupid Squib, Harry!"
Harry appeared next to Ron, a nasty smile on his face. "Good thing you chose me over the Freak, Ron."
They pointed at her and roared with laughter as she struggled to keep her face out of the mud.
"Please!" she begged. "I'm going to die!"
Ron ignored her. "Fancy a fly, Harry?"
Grinning madly, Harry and Ron got into her dad's Ford Anglia.
"What about the Squib?" Harry jerked his head toward her.
Ron shrugged. "She'll die and I'll forget about her."
Ginny woke up with a start. Trembling, she wiped the clammy sweat off her forehead and took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.
A dream? Of course, it was just a dream! Ron would never forget about her!
After all, wasn't it in Ron's nature to take care of his friends? Didn't he turn down a trip to Romania last year to make sure Harry wouldn't spend the holidays alone? And if the extra attention he gave Harry didn't mean he forgot about Ginny back then, it sure meant he didn't forget about her now.
That's it! Ron would never forget about her. In fact, he was probably thinking about her at this very moment. She had nothing to worry about. She should just go back to sleep and ignore this silly dream.
Sitting on her bed, Ginny watched the colour of her walls change from black, to purple, to pink as the sun slowly rose.
It was a miserable Christmas feast. Wearing her new Weasley jumper, Ginny sat silently and picked at her food. Judging by the way her parents kept giving each other pointed looks, it was obvious that she wasn't the only uncomfortable one around the table.
It didn't go unnoticed that no plates were floating around the room here and there, that the washing-up in the sink wasn't cleaning itself, and that the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece was suspiciously silent.
They think they need to hide their magic from me.
Dad cleared his throat. "So Ginny, tell us about your school?"
Ginny scowled at her plate. What did he want to know? That her classmates called her Freak? That her teachers were worried about her lack of interest in class? That she hated St George more than anything in the world?
"There's nothing much to say."
Her parents exchanged another look. Clearly, they were not satisfied with this answer.
"And what about Uncle Gaius and Aunt Celesta?" Mum asked.
Something akin to anger burst into her. Clenching her fits, Ginny glared at Mum. "If you want to know about Uncle Gaius and Aunt Celesta, write to them. That's what Errol is for."
There were no more questions after that.
It was the sound of the hoover that woke her up. Aunt Celesta vacuumed every morning at eight o'clock sharp. Eight o'clock? Ha... She overslept again. Ginny turned on her back and stared at the ceiling of her room. Aunt Celesta had painted a bright sun and a rainbow there; she said it was because Ginny's hair reminded her of a ray of sunshine. She had started to call her 'Sunshine' ever since.
Ginny pulled her blanket over her head and wondered what excuse she could give Aunt Celesta to avoid going to school today. A headache? Too futile. Feeling nauseous? She would end up at the Muggle healer. Stomachache? She had already used that one.
With a sigh, she reluctantly left her bed and got ready for school.
"Morning, Sunshine!" Aunt Celesta greeted above the hoover's roar. "Breakfast is on the table."
Ginny sat at the kitchen table, her eyes immediately finding the bay window. Uncle Gaius was already there, a cup of coffee and the Daily Mail in his hands
"Morning, love."
"Morning," Ginny muttered, still staring out the window.
Uncle Gaius followed her eyes, then scrunched up his face. "Still waiting for that bloody owl?" he grunted. "Forget about them, I told you. It's best for you."
Ginny would have told him to sod off if she wasn't so tired. Errol would come; she knew he would fly to her, a letter tied to his leg. It was her hope every morning, and every morning she was left disappointed.
Now that Ron had stopped writing to her, it seemed as though all joy in her life had disappeared. Crossing the gates of St George required superhuman effort. Then there were the classes ‒ literature, sciences, and history. Teachers were talking too fast, pupils were understanding too quickly, and Ginny felt like an alien.
The worst was certainly at lunchtime. Sitting alone at the canteen was a nightmare ever since Lauren Grimhill started a rumour about Ginny being a member of a cult that ate the flesh of sacrificed children. As a result, everyone was scared of her. People whispered behind her back, some even called her witch.
Oh, the irony!
"Gonna eat some orphan meat for lunch, Freak?" Grimhill sneered, making her little group of friends burst out laughing.
There was a time when Ginny thought Lauren Grimhill was the coolest person to ever walk on earth. Now she reminded her of a Muggle version of Draco Malfoy; a silly girl whose personality was as pathetic as her flat hair.
Ginny guessed she could respond to her, maybe she could even fight her, but she was too bloody tired for these childish games.
Never taking her eyes off her plate, she pretended that nobody was around her. Tomorrow the sun would rise again and Ron would write to her.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and finally the term was over. Heart lighter than usual, Ginny packed her trunk the very evening of the last day of school.
She noticed that Uncle Gaius had a deep crease across his face as they drove to the Burrow.
"You know, love. You can stay with us for the holidays if you want."
Ginny gapped; this was the last thing she expected to hear from him.
He cleared his throat. "I mean, if they bother you or if you feel... out of place, you can always come back. I'll come to pick you up."
Ginny opened her mouth to reply that she would never feel out of place at the Burrow, but then she remembered how awkward being around her parents during the Christmas holidays had been. Could she put up with that all summer long?
She shook her head. Summer would be different; Ron would be there.
"Thanks, but I think I'll be fine," Ginny said.
Uncle Gaius looked out the window. "If you say so."
Some hours later, they arrived at Ottery St Catchpole. A weirdly-built ramshackle house could be seen in the distance. Three shadows were running in the overgrown garden, yelling obscenities at one another. Ginny recognised Ron, Fred and George. A grin stretched wide on her face. She was finally home.