**Note. I do own one character that I would like to add to my story. Her
name is Branwen Weller, and I do own this character. Let's just say she
adds spice to the story shall we? **
Ginny awoke with a gasp, sweat dotting her forehead. She stared around the quiet room, expecting, hoping that someone would awaken as well, since her quick gasp for air would have awakened anyone with ears.
But it seemed that after a long day of Professor Snape's constant bickering, a good night sleep was the only thing the young students could look forward to.
She let out a sight of relief. Of course she was comforted by this, but the pleasure of being unnoticed seemed to be her only comfort.
It was the dreams that haunted her. It had been seven nights since the incident with Malfoy occurred, and each night a new dream invoked itself. The first two nights were who the assaulter was, and the next four were of Ginny not being able to escape his grasp. But that night- that night she dreampt more. She dreampt of something that startled her more than anything else. That night she dreampt of being rape.
Even then she could feel his hot breath against her, reaching out for her, his hands killing what facial expressions could not. Tears sprang from her eyes when she was forced her down, his body on top of her own. She could hear his grunts edged inside of her thoughts.
Then, when her only savior wasn't present, she could hear him pull out his dagger, and feel it's rough edges fill into the ridges of her body, stopping life forever.
Shivers filled her bruised body as she started to cry. She didn't know where the maniac was, whom he communicated with, but most importantly, she didn't know who he was.
The only pain that really fled into her body was the fact that Draco had been ignoring her. She would see him at dinner, but he would not even glance over to make eye contact.
She would see him walk out of his classrooms, but when she tried to catch up with his quick footsteps, he would mysteriously disappear.
She couldn't attract his attention at all, knowing that he was always pulling away from her. Not even if I became beautiful, she wearily thought to herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. I guess houses aren't meant to mix.
Suddenly, the words hit her like a gallon of water. The houses! The houses are what separate us from every student in their individuality, and that is why some are put into different houses.
If I act like his house, she thought, then I could draw attention to myself. But she then knew what would happen if she attempted this. She would have to consider herself sexy. Well, maybe not sexy, but at least attractive in a strange, melancholy way.
But who here could help me become-well-attractive? No one in Gryffindor could possibly own clothes that match a Slytherin's. But someone did.
Ginny smiled ecstatically. She knew she had a good plan at that very moment. She knew someone that could supply her with what she desperately needed.
**
Morning slowly came, but Ginny was wearily ready for it, nonetheless. She had waited by Branwen's bed all night, but the girl slept like a rock.
Finally, she awoke, and Ginny grabbed her like she was 50% off at a bargain sale. Branwen's golden hair flew up, and her bright brown eyes became as wide as saucers.
"I need some clothes and makeup from you, Branny." Ginny cried, shaking her awake.
Branwen's eye filled with excitement, as if nothing could possibly contain her joy. She was one of those people that went through stages in her life. She didn't know what style of clothing she preferred, so every month or so, she tried a new one. Her parents were very wealthy, so whatever she wanted was given to her. This left her with extensive bags of clothes and makeup that she never wore more than once.
"What kind of style do you want, Gin? Modern, medieval, sophisticated, clown, witty, jumper- anything I could actually help you with?"
Ginny smiled. "I need punk. Something that screams Gothic, but is a little-well-sexy." She tried to hide her cheeks that were burning from embarrassment.
"Well, I do have just the thing. It's in suitcase number thirty-four. And please, do be careful. Oh, and you might want to mix those clothes with bag number twenty-five."
Ginny rushed to her tower of luggage. Rummaging through heavy bags wasn't exactly a carnival in Venice, but finding the correct bag might as well have been.
She finally found bag number thirty-four. There was a small tag at the front of it, and it was labeled "Gothic Bravery". But Branwen was right about combining bags, for the second bag, number twenty-five, was labeled "black goddess".
Although the first bag held Ginny's attention greater with stunning dog collars and spiked bracelets, the second bag had low-cut shirts and glitter jeans.
The best part about each bag was that it held the correct color of makeup for each line of clothing and a note that said which shirt went best with one pair of pants.
That made the world a beautiful place.
As she dug through the gothic clothing, Branwen eyed her suspiciously. "So tell me, Gin, why the new-found interest in Goth?"
"I just-er-want to try something new, dear. Nothing special, of course."
"Rrrigggghhht." She said, sarcastically. "You know, if there's someone you want to impress, try the strapless dazzle shirt and the short graffiti skirt with the four-inch black heels." She said, pointing to the pile. "And don't forget to add the torn, black panty hose, I can tell ya, there's nothing better. What size are you, dear? A small or a medium?"
"Medium."
"Shoe size?"
"Eight to eight and-a-half."
"Perfect. The clothes will fit you fine."
Once Ginny put on the clothes, she looked at her reflection. Although Ginny saw someone scary and informal, poor Branwen was in tears. "Your legs are so slim.they fit it perfectly, and oh! You hips! You have-hips! Ah! Who would have known? IT'S WONDERFUL!" She wiped away her tears. But the smile turned into a frown when Branwen looked at the mane. "But your hair, dear. No."
"What's wrong with it?" Ginny said, pressing down her tangled red hair offensively.
Branwen sighed. "Bring me my un-tangler and my wand. No really, bring me my wand. While you're at it, bring the stronghold hair spray. Place the make-up beside me."
She pointed towards a rolly chair. "Sit down and don't move. This is going to hurt you way more than it's going to hurt me."
By the time Branwen got done, Ginny was in so much pain that she could barely move even if she wanted to.
"If you would brush your hair, I wouldn't have to do this." She said, as Ginny clenched the arms of the chair tightly, gritting her teeth.
Once Branwen let go of that poor head, Ginny bounced out of the seat, tripping over her heels. Of course, she quickly regained her posture. (Can anyone sense sarcasm?)
"Okay, look at yourself." Branwen said, signaling towards the mirror.
Ginny closed her eyes before she made it to the mirror, afraid to look at herself. She acted as if she knew that she would be hideous.
But once she opened her eyes, she saw something different. She saw someone gorgeous staring back at her. She was actually beautiful. Of course, she knew she was beautiful, but not radiant or glamorous. The reflection smiling in the mirror was though.
Her red hair was pushed back with thin, curly bangs dangling forward, bringing out the dark colors across her gothic eyes and lips.
Even the clothes brought out her body and her slim figure, which was strange, since none of her other clothes would do that.
"She's alive!" Branwen cried, dancing around the room.
Ginny shuddered for a moment, waiting for Branwen to stop her wiggling. "What do I do now, Bran?" She asked grabbing Branwen by her wrist.
Branwen smiled. "What house?"
Ginny frowned. "Fine, Branwen, he's Slytherin." She said stubbornly.
A gleam of light filled Branwen's crafty face. She pointed towards the door, glancing at the other girls who were eyeing Ginny strangely. "A Slytherin? Ginny!" She giggled. Then her eyes became daring. "Be cruel. Be evil." Then she sat quietly for one moment. "But most of all, don't touch that hair."
Branwen's crafty smiled gave way once more. "And don't forget, school starts in twenty minutes."
Ginny turned and smiled at Branwen and the other girls, who were whispering amongst themselves. With her body gently swaying, Ginny walked towards the door, enjoying the light clicks of her heels.
With one last glance at her picture on the wall, she placed her robe around her body, leaving most of her hips and breasts exposed.
With one last thought of happiness creeping into her gentle, probing mind, she walked out of her small dorm, and shut the door.
Just a few more steps, she thought to herself. Just a few more. It's time for a new day of learning.
** Oops! Ginny's taking a little turn into da dark side. Bum Bum Bum! But is it all right to tell you that this is Ginny Weasley? Don't worry, this isn't like those other fan fictions. Ginny can never stop the feeling of purity. Dope! : Slaps forehead: I think I said too much about the next chapter! Oh well.
Love, **Flourish**
By the way, I love all the reviews I'm getting. If they keep coming, the chapters might get here a little quicker as well. :Giggle:
Ginny awoke with a gasp, sweat dotting her forehead. She stared around the quiet room, expecting, hoping that someone would awaken as well, since her quick gasp for air would have awakened anyone with ears.
But it seemed that after a long day of Professor Snape's constant bickering, a good night sleep was the only thing the young students could look forward to.
She let out a sight of relief. Of course she was comforted by this, but the pleasure of being unnoticed seemed to be her only comfort.
It was the dreams that haunted her. It had been seven nights since the incident with Malfoy occurred, and each night a new dream invoked itself. The first two nights were who the assaulter was, and the next four were of Ginny not being able to escape his grasp. But that night- that night she dreampt more. She dreampt of something that startled her more than anything else. That night she dreampt of being rape.
Even then she could feel his hot breath against her, reaching out for her, his hands killing what facial expressions could not. Tears sprang from her eyes when she was forced her down, his body on top of her own. She could hear his grunts edged inside of her thoughts.
Then, when her only savior wasn't present, she could hear him pull out his dagger, and feel it's rough edges fill into the ridges of her body, stopping life forever.
Shivers filled her bruised body as she started to cry. She didn't know where the maniac was, whom he communicated with, but most importantly, she didn't know who he was.
The only pain that really fled into her body was the fact that Draco had been ignoring her. She would see him at dinner, but he would not even glance over to make eye contact.
She would see him walk out of his classrooms, but when she tried to catch up with his quick footsteps, he would mysteriously disappear.
She couldn't attract his attention at all, knowing that he was always pulling away from her. Not even if I became beautiful, she wearily thought to herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. I guess houses aren't meant to mix.
Suddenly, the words hit her like a gallon of water. The houses! The houses are what separate us from every student in their individuality, and that is why some are put into different houses.
If I act like his house, she thought, then I could draw attention to myself. But she then knew what would happen if she attempted this. She would have to consider herself sexy. Well, maybe not sexy, but at least attractive in a strange, melancholy way.
But who here could help me become-well-attractive? No one in Gryffindor could possibly own clothes that match a Slytherin's. But someone did.
Ginny smiled ecstatically. She knew she had a good plan at that very moment. She knew someone that could supply her with what she desperately needed.
**
Morning slowly came, but Ginny was wearily ready for it, nonetheless. She had waited by Branwen's bed all night, but the girl slept like a rock.
Finally, she awoke, and Ginny grabbed her like she was 50% off at a bargain sale. Branwen's golden hair flew up, and her bright brown eyes became as wide as saucers.
"I need some clothes and makeup from you, Branny." Ginny cried, shaking her awake.
Branwen's eye filled with excitement, as if nothing could possibly contain her joy. She was one of those people that went through stages in her life. She didn't know what style of clothing she preferred, so every month or so, she tried a new one. Her parents were very wealthy, so whatever she wanted was given to her. This left her with extensive bags of clothes and makeup that she never wore more than once.
"What kind of style do you want, Gin? Modern, medieval, sophisticated, clown, witty, jumper- anything I could actually help you with?"
Ginny smiled. "I need punk. Something that screams Gothic, but is a little-well-sexy." She tried to hide her cheeks that were burning from embarrassment.
"Well, I do have just the thing. It's in suitcase number thirty-four. And please, do be careful. Oh, and you might want to mix those clothes with bag number twenty-five."
Ginny rushed to her tower of luggage. Rummaging through heavy bags wasn't exactly a carnival in Venice, but finding the correct bag might as well have been.
She finally found bag number thirty-four. There was a small tag at the front of it, and it was labeled "Gothic Bravery". But Branwen was right about combining bags, for the second bag, number twenty-five, was labeled "black goddess".
Although the first bag held Ginny's attention greater with stunning dog collars and spiked bracelets, the second bag had low-cut shirts and glitter jeans.
The best part about each bag was that it held the correct color of makeup for each line of clothing and a note that said which shirt went best with one pair of pants.
That made the world a beautiful place.
As she dug through the gothic clothing, Branwen eyed her suspiciously. "So tell me, Gin, why the new-found interest in Goth?"
"I just-er-want to try something new, dear. Nothing special, of course."
"Rrrigggghhht." She said, sarcastically. "You know, if there's someone you want to impress, try the strapless dazzle shirt and the short graffiti skirt with the four-inch black heels." She said, pointing to the pile. "And don't forget to add the torn, black panty hose, I can tell ya, there's nothing better. What size are you, dear? A small or a medium?"
"Medium."
"Shoe size?"
"Eight to eight and-a-half."
"Perfect. The clothes will fit you fine."
Once Ginny put on the clothes, she looked at her reflection. Although Ginny saw someone scary and informal, poor Branwen was in tears. "Your legs are so slim.they fit it perfectly, and oh! You hips! You have-hips! Ah! Who would have known? IT'S WONDERFUL!" She wiped away her tears. But the smile turned into a frown when Branwen looked at the mane. "But your hair, dear. No."
"What's wrong with it?" Ginny said, pressing down her tangled red hair offensively.
Branwen sighed. "Bring me my un-tangler and my wand. No really, bring me my wand. While you're at it, bring the stronghold hair spray. Place the make-up beside me."
She pointed towards a rolly chair. "Sit down and don't move. This is going to hurt you way more than it's going to hurt me."
By the time Branwen got done, Ginny was in so much pain that she could barely move even if she wanted to.
"If you would brush your hair, I wouldn't have to do this." She said, as Ginny clenched the arms of the chair tightly, gritting her teeth.
Once Branwen let go of that poor head, Ginny bounced out of the seat, tripping over her heels. Of course, she quickly regained her posture. (Can anyone sense sarcasm?)
"Okay, look at yourself." Branwen said, signaling towards the mirror.
Ginny closed her eyes before she made it to the mirror, afraid to look at herself. She acted as if she knew that she would be hideous.
But once she opened her eyes, she saw something different. She saw someone gorgeous staring back at her. She was actually beautiful. Of course, she knew she was beautiful, but not radiant or glamorous. The reflection smiling in the mirror was though.
Her red hair was pushed back with thin, curly bangs dangling forward, bringing out the dark colors across her gothic eyes and lips.
Even the clothes brought out her body and her slim figure, which was strange, since none of her other clothes would do that.
"She's alive!" Branwen cried, dancing around the room.
Ginny shuddered for a moment, waiting for Branwen to stop her wiggling. "What do I do now, Bran?" She asked grabbing Branwen by her wrist.
Branwen smiled. "What house?"
Ginny frowned. "Fine, Branwen, he's Slytherin." She said stubbornly.
A gleam of light filled Branwen's crafty face. She pointed towards the door, glancing at the other girls who were eyeing Ginny strangely. "A Slytherin? Ginny!" She giggled. Then her eyes became daring. "Be cruel. Be evil." Then she sat quietly for one moment. "But most of all, don't touch that hair."
Branwen's crafty smiled gave way once more. "And don't forget, school starts in twenty minutes."
Ginny turned and smiled at Branwen and the other girls, who were whispering amongst themselves. With her body gently swaying, Ginny walked towards the door, enjoying the light clicks of her heels.
With one last glance at her picture on the wall, she placed her robe around her body, leaving most of her hips and breasts exposed.
With one last thought of happiness creeping into her gentle, probing mind, she walked out of her small dorm, and shut the door.
Just a few more steps, she thought to herself. Just a few more. It's time for a new day of learning.
** Oops! Ginny's taking a little turn into da dark side. Bum Bum Bum! But is it all right to tell you that this is Ginny Weasley? Don't worry, this isn't like those other fan fictions. Ginny can never stop the feeling of purity. Dope! : Slaps forehead: I think I said too much about the next chapter! Oh well.
Love, **Flourish**
By the way, I love all the reviews I'm getting. If they keep coming, the chapters might get here a little quicker as well. :Giggle: