Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter novels, and all characters and situations contained within. I'm making no money off of this work of fanfiction, and I intend no copyright infringement.
Authors Note: I'm doing this in my spare time, for my own entertainment, NOT yours. For those who left polite feedback, thank you. I'm glad you like this little tale. For those who seem to think that fanfic writing is my life... it isn't. I have no duty or obligation to you in regards to updating my fanfic.
Now... on with the story.
Three Years After
by Phoenixflame
She showed up at Moonstruck exactly three minutes late, and found the Boy Who Lived sitting in a booth by the window, signing an autograph for a ten year old girl with brown curls and chatting amiably with her older sister, who looked to be about sixteen. Virginia tucked the owl under her arm, muffling its beak clicking and squawking, and stalked over to the table, more than a little annoyed.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as the girl took back her diary, squeaked a thanks to Harry, and bounded off. The teenager gave her a haughty look, taking in the old black robes in a raking glance, then stalked off after the girl. "Well, well. Hi, Harry. Having fun with the jailbait?" She dropped into the booth opposite him, and waved down a waitress. "I'll have a raspberry mocha milkshake. On him, of course."
He gave her a thoroughly unamused look. "The girl just wanted an autograph. I thought it was rather sweet myself."
"You would." She grabbed the owl and dropped it on the table. It landed, pecked at the abandoned straw wrapper beside Harry's drink, then began to clean itself, ignoring the humans. "You can have the owl back." she informed him. "I'm not in the market for a familiar."
"Keep it. I own more than I know what to do with." He leaned forwards over the table, emerald eyes half-shut. "So. How are you doing? You've grown up..." The heated look in his eyes made him look older... and sexy, Virginia had to admit. She wasn't /dead/, after all. Unfortunately, he had to ruin it by opening his mouth. "...Little Ginny's filled out quite nicely."
The waitress came back, and deposited the milkshake on the table with a thump. She licked her lips, and fluttered her eyelashes at Harry, who didn't seem to notice. The woman scowled at Virginia, then stomped off, evidently jealous.
"It's Virginia." she snapped. "What do you want, Harry?"
"I thought I'd look you up after all this time. I've been around the world, traveling with Sirius and Remus, and I thought that it would be nice to see some old friends... and others..."
"Others." she said dubiously.
"Keep the owl." Picking up the owl, she thrust it in his face. "Go play rich and spoiled playboy with someone else, Potter."
He sat back in his seat, staring at her. "What's wrong with /you/? I invite you out to meet me for lunch at Moonstruck, and you act like a..."
"Save it." She rose from her seat, leaving the milkshake where it was. "This was a mistake. I only came here to give you your owl back. Go seduce someone else. You had your chance four years ago. But I'm not Ginny anymore."
"Are you sure you don't still have Voldemort's school diary?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Shove off." she snarled, and turning, she stalked out of Moonstruck.
Harry looked down at the owl. It flipped its wings to its back, then walked to the edge of the table, and took flight, soaring in a wide arc and out the door as it swung shut, barely missing having its wings slammed.
Twenty minutes later, Virginia stalked into the dusty offices of Daily Prophet, Inc., and sat down at her desk, intent on getting at least a little work done. Lousy job or not, she needed the money.
"Virginia! You're back." A wiry, middle-aged man with a perpetual smell of ink about him entered her office without knocking. "You missed the staff meeting. Rita was livid."
"Rita can go kiss a flobberworm. I had some business to take care of." Virginia leaned back in her chair, ignoring the tortured scream she evoked from the ancient piece of furniture. "So what earth shattering news did I miss?"
"I wish you'd treat this more seriously." he chided. "It's your job that's riding on the line too. If this paper goes under, none of us are going to be able to find any work... except maybe as potion's ingredients in Knockturn Alley. I hear they're in the market for ears lately..."
"Yeah, you and your great contacts." She waved one hand dismissively. "Fix me up, Anthony. What did Her Majesty have to say?"
He leaned against her desk, dislodging a stack of paper that fell to the floor with a thump. Both of the reporters ignored it. "Well, we're well into the red. We've got maybe enough money for ten more issues of the Daily Prophet. Gringotts refused to give Rita a loan again... they're still frosted about the late payment back around March. Winston quit when he found out, so we're out another warm body. Problem is, he took the latest batch of ink with him, and that's another fifty Galleons out of Rita's wallet."
"So basically, we're still fucked." Virginia shrugged. "No big deal. Anything else?"
"Nope. Rita spent most of the staff meeting ranting about you not being there, and cursing out the owl."
"Owl?" She peered at him. "What owl? We /never/ get owls, unless they're Howlers or bills."
"Well, this one was a private messenger owl." He pulled out a folded parchment and tossed it to her, then turned to go.
She snatched it out of the air, and examined it. It was heavy parchment... pale green, and expensive, made with linen. Turning it over, she saw the blob of green sealing wax that held it shut... and the dragon sigil imprinted into the wax. Rolling her eyes, Virginia dropped it to the surface of her desk. "Great. Thanks, Anthony." She drew her wand, and pointed it at the parchment. "I hear linen burns fairly well..."
Anthony, who was halfway to the door, whirled on her. "Are you insane? This entire building is a fire trap!"
But it was too late. "Incendio." Virginia intoned, dipping her wand slightly as she pronounced each syllable of the charm in a measured, careful cadence... just as Flitwick taught all of his students.
The surface of the desk burst into flame.
She threw herself back from the desk. Over the roaring of the fire, she heard Anthony frantically chanting charms at the inferno. But the fire spread too quickly, devouring the stacks of parchment and paper on her desk. An ink well exploded from the heat, and Virginia felt a sharp, stinging pain across her face. As she cowered back against the wall, trying to remember any charms that could save her, she felt a strange sense of vertigo, and fell backwards through the wall into nothingness.
End Part Four
Authors Note: I'm doing this in my spare time, for my own entertainment, NOT yours. For those who left polite feedback, thank you. I'm glad you like this little tale. For those who seem to think that fanfic writing is my life... it isn't. I have no duty or obligation to you in regards to updating my fanfic.
Now... on with the story.
Three Years After
by Phoenixflame
She showed up at Moonstruck exactly three minutes late, and found the Boy Who Lived sitting in a booth by the window, signing an autograph for a ten year old girl with brown curls and chatting amiably with her older sister, who looked to be about sixteen. Virginia tucked the owl under her arm, muffling its beak clicking and squawking, and stalked over to the table, more than a little annoyed.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as the girl took back her diary, squeaked a thanks to Harry, and bounded off. The teenager gave her a haughty look, taking in the old black robes in a raking glance, then stalked off after the girl. "Well, well. Hi, Harry. Having fun with the jailbait?" She dropped into the booth opposite him, and waved down a waitress. "I'll have a raspberry mocha milkshake. On him, of course."
He gave her a thoroughly unamused look. "The girl just wanted an autograph. I thought it was rather sweet myself."
"You would." She grabbed the owl and dropped it on the table. It landed, pecked at the abandoned straw wrapper beside Harry's drink, then began to clean itself, ignoring the humans. "You can have the owl back." she informed him. "I'm not in the market for a familiar."
"Keep it. I own more than I know what to do with." He leaned forwards over the table, emerald eyes half-shut. "So. How are you doing? You've grown up..." The heated look in his eyes made him look older... and sexy, Virginia had to admit. She wasn't /dead/, after all. Unfortunately, he had to ruin it by opening his mouth. "...Little Ginny's filled out quite nicely."
The waitress came back, and deposited the milkshake on the table with a thump. She licked her lips, and fluttered her eyelashes at Harry, who didn't seem to notice. The woman scowled at Virginia, then stomped off, evidently jealous.
"It's Virginia." she snapped. "What do you want, Harry?"
"I thought I'd look you up after all this time. I've been around the world, traveling with Sirius and Remus, and I thought that it would be nice to see some old friends... and others..."
"Others." she said dubiously.
"Keep the owl." Picking up the owl, she thrust it in his face. "Go play rich and spoiled playboy with someone else, Potter."
He sat back in his seat, staring at her. "What's wrong with /you/? I invite you out to meet me for lunch at Moonstruck, and you act like a..."
"Save it." She rose from her seat, leaving the milkshake where it was. "This was a mistake. I only came here to give you your owl back. Go seduce someone else. You had your chance four years ago. But I'm not Ginny anymore."
"Are you sure you don't still have Voldemort's school diary?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Shove off." she snarled, and turning, she stalked out of Moonstruck.
Harry looked down at the owl. It flipped its wings to its back, then walked to the edge of the table, and took flight, soaring in a wide arc and out the door as it swung shut, barely missing having its wings slammed.
Twenty minutes later, Virginia stalked into the dusty offices of Daily Prophet, Inc., and sat down at her desk, intent on getting at least a little work done. Lousy job or not, she needed the money.
"Virginia! You're back." A wiry, middle-aged man with a perpetual smell of ink about him entered her office without knocking. "You missed the staff meeting. Rita was livid."
"Rita can go kiss a flobberworm. I had some business to take care of." Virginia leaned back in her chair, ignoring the tortured scream she evoked from the ancient piece of furniture. "So what earth shattering news did I miss?"
"I wish you'd treat this more seriously." he chided. "It's your job that's riding on the line too. If this paper goes under, none of us are going to be able to find any work... except maybe as potion's ingredients in Knockturn Alley. I hear they're in the market for ears lately..."
"Yeah, you and your great contacts." She waved one hand dismissively. "Fix me up, Anthony. What did Her Majesty have to say?"
He leaned against her desk, dislodging a stack of paper that fell to the floor with a thump. Both of the reporters ignored it. "Well, we're well into the red. We've got maybe enough money for ten more issues of the Daily Prophet. Gringotts refused to give Rita a loan again... they're still frosted about the late payment back around March. Winston quit when he found out, so we're out another warm body. Problem is, he took the latest batch of ink with him, and that's another fifty Galleons out of Rita's wallet."
"So basically, we're still fucked." Virginia shrugged. "No big deal. Anything else?"
"Nope. Rita spent most of the staff meeting ranting about you not being there, and cursing out the owl."
"Owl?" She peered at him. "What owl? We /never/ get owls, unless they're Howlers or bills."
"Well, this one was a private messenger owl." He pulled out a folded parchment and tossed it to her, then turned to go.
She snatched it out of the air, and examined it. It was heavy parchment... pale green, and expensive, made with linen. Turning it over, she saw the blob of green sealing wax that held it shut... and the dragon sigil imprinted into the wax. Rolling her eyes, Virginia dropped it to the surface of her desk. "Great. Thanks, Anthony." She drew her wand, and pointed it at the parchment. "I hear linen burns fairly well..."
Anthony, who was halfway to the door, whirled on her. "Are you insane? This entire building is a fire trap!"
But it was too late. "Incendio." Virginia intoned, dipping her wand slightly as she pronounced each syllable of the charm in a measured, careful cadence... just as Flitwick taught all of his students.
The surface of the desk burst into flame.
She threw herself back from the desk. Over the roaring of the fire, she heard Anthony frantically chanting charms at the inferno. But the fire spread too quickly, devouring the stacks of parchment and paper on her desk. An ink well exploded from the heat, and Virginia felt a sharp, stinging pain across her face. As she cowered back against the wall, trying to remember any charms that could save her, she felt a strange sense of vertigo, and fell backwards through the wall into nothingness.
End Part Four