It was five o'clock on a rainy day, and Ginny Weasley was waiting for the clock to strike six. At six, she would be able to know. The wind from outside was making the open window in her dorm room feel almost vacant and cold as it was in winter. Ginny had never liked winter, it was far too cold, and even the twenty-fifth of Christmas Day didn't make it feel warm. She remembered apple cider, the way it felt when it went down her throat, she remembered mistletoes, how Ron would pluck them off and throw them in the fire when Mum and Dad were looking because Ron hated to see his parents kiss; of course all parents kissed, but their parents were far too in love to remember the children in the room, and the way they stared. Ginny didn't mind when they kissed, her heart felt almost five times bigger and lighter to see that love like that was possible -- she knew the hand that her Dad had placed on her mother's wrist was not only protective, but hopeful that their fingers could cling. She wanted that, that kind of love. Protective, warm, and burning like apple cider does to one's throat, and today, she was going to get it, that Christmas love that would tickle her insides and made her head spin as she danced with her Charming.
Going to Professor Flitwick for advice on the charm had been embarrassing, Ginny wouldn't even have thought about doing that kind of charm if it hadn't been included in the book of charms Hermione had gotten her for an early Christmas present. It was called the Fineliden charm, and it was done seven hours later after it was performed. She had gone to the window, opened it, put her head out, whispering the charm on her wand before her legs felt shaky-- she collapsed on her bed, the wand sticky from the water against her chest. Seven hours--the time she had done the charm was around eleven, and she fell fast asleep, waking up at five.
The covers felt dead as they slid off her body, glancing outside and knowing what had made the room feel as if it had snowed; it was snowing, outside, but the cool air from outside was coming inside, drawing out anything that resembled homely or warm like fire. She had been wearing shorts and a long t-shirt that had belonged to Bill, her hair tied up like a bun at the back of her head when she walked over to the little mirror dresser one of the girls had Transfigured. She looked at herself, as she always did when she woke up from a deep sleep, to make sure nothing had changed.
The freckles were still there, the ones Mum called cute but the ones she called horrible, and blamed Ron and Dad for. Her lips were the only thing she liked, they always appeared pink and flushed. She wasn't adorably sweet looking or ugly, but at that moment she had never felt so low and down in her life. One hour before she met her Charming. Charming was what she called all the boys she thought she was meant to be with in her life. First came Harry Potter, who she had stared after endlessly after the train took away, and her mother held her hand --but he never noticed her, and if he did, it would only be because they shared a look or laugh, of course she knew she had made an impression on him in her fourth year, but even then she could feel her admiration of him start to fade.
Then came Michael Corner, who left her after they had only argued about a stupid Quidditch match and went after Cho Chang, the girl Harry had gone after too. Ginny had stuck herself in her bed, sobbing until one of her dorm-mates came over and hugged her tightly until she fell asleep. She overcame the sadness and went out with Dean Thomas, who was like another brother to her--he had always seemed to like her more than she liked him, and when they broke him, she knew she wasn't the one most hurt.
But this time; it would be somebody else. The Fineliden Charm never lied, at least Professor Flitwick said it wouldn't. It was time to find out who was the boy she was meant to be with--if it worked. Professor Flitwick had advised her not to get her hopes up, for the Fineliden Charm hadn't been performed since 1978, when a witch put a claim into the Ministry of Magic when she was seventeen to claim that it was disabled and the man she had met was certainly not her meant-to-be. It was rare that Ginny heard, read or saw anything but complaints about the charm, but she was determined. No wonder nobody ever used it anymore--nobody took risks or chances. But on that rainy day after the snow had melted, Ginny Weasley was going to take one.
She pulled off her shorts and t-shirt and wore her favorite sweater and old pants that had once belonged to Ron but he had protested it was far too big, and she had the legs in the family. After that she put on her ratty coat that she had since the September she first arrived to Hogwarts--it came just below the knees, and the first time her Mum had passed it on to her, it had reached her feet. Ginny never bothered with makeup, but the right shoes took a long time to wear--she had only brought four pairs and it wasn't a very hard choice to make. She took her hair out of the tight bun and let it spread across the fur in her coat, not bothering to brush it; for some reason, letting it appear rumpled and messy always made her look pretty, and she liked that.
Then, she looked at the clock. Five fifty-five. She raced to exit her dorm room, knowing she only had five more minutes to get there.
The snow had melted, but it still crunched it's remains beneath her feet when she walked, looking around. Very few people knew the place she was headed, unless they had performed the Fineliden Charm. The Charm gave her a feeling of dizziness as she walked, and her wand was pouring water out again, something that happened until the duration of the charm was complete, so her coat was getting wet from not only the rain, but from inside. She wondered what would happen if she went back to the castle for an umbrella or hat, but knew only two minutes were left to spare. It was a strange trance she was in, her feet leading her wherever she should go, but her mind not knowing.
Her mind really didn't know--because a sharp jab at the back of her neck suddenly fell, and she closed her eyes into a blind expectation, knowing that she hadn't landed on the floor, but feeling as if she had fell on the sky and crashed it all apart. When she awoke, her eyes were still stinging with the rain pouring into them--but she was in another place, and she knew the castle was much, much far away from the place she had landed in.
Her wand wasn't putting water in her coat anymore, and she smiled expectantly as she rose-- the Charm had warned her beforehand that the place she would be in would not be real, and she would not be able to approach it unless she was doing the Charm again and again. This place was not real-- but in her mind and actions, it would be.
It was as if she had entered a forest, except there were no trees. The chirping of birds hit her ears in midair as she walked, the smell of grass after the rain leaving her disappointed, she had always thought she'd meet her lover in the rain, but it didn't matter because water from somewhere else was pouring as she watched in complete awe--the place she had settled, standing was a large fountain, one whose pool was of clean water, completely spotless except for the color of water.
There were no pennies in the water, nobody had made a wish.
But Ginny knew exactly what to do--the Charm was controlling her, and she knew what to do. She stepped forward, seeing the sculpture on top of the fountain there, the sculpture was strange and she couldn't make out what it was, only that she wanted to put her wand near the gray stone..
To her surprise, a wand was already there. Frowning, she reached into her pocket and placed her wand beside it in the water--no splash, the fountain was flawless. She only waited a breath before she felt his voice.
"...Weasley?"
Ginny looked up, the only thought in her mind was that the voice was all too familiar, all too horrible. It was Draco Malfoy, standing beside her with large eyes, his expensive black coat rippled with water--but it wasn't raining, her mind reminded her. No, no, it wasn't raining.
But in her heart, there was a storm.
"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, furious with herself and him. "What are you doing here? Did you follow me here, you two-headed frog?" She had nothing else to say as she reached in the water and took out her wet wand, fondling with it to make it dry before she stuffed it back. "How dare you? How dare you follow me?"
"Me? Follow you?" he asked, gritting his teeth. "I didn't follow you! I- I-" his voice grew faint. Never had she seen Draco this silent; his gray eyes almost matched the color of the stone in the sculpture at the fountain, his cheeks a pale color of blue from the exposed cold, and no hat to support his silver-blonde strands that fell over his forehead, looking glassy and damp.
"How could you?" she found herself shrieking, saying. "The charm only works if nobody else is around! How could you?! You ruined it, you ruined it!" She was near to tears, and her throat was caught with helpless sobs as she reached into the fountain water and pulled out his wand, shoved it at him until she caught aim and slapped his face with it. "I hate you," she spat, turning away before he could respond, or hit her the same way she had done, with the floppy tip of the wand poking at the skin of his cheekbone.
It hurt, it stung as she walked away from the beautiful fountain, her only last chance to meet her Charming, hurt when she felt the familiar jab at the back of her head now, and she woke up near the castle, blinking the tears out of her eyes.
Not tears only, but water from the rain.
It was still raining, but it had never rained in the world she had entered and left abruptly.
She stood, shaking from head to her toes and beyond that as she walked toward the entrance of the castle.
It looked as if she would be the second witch to complain about the Fineliden Charm since 1978.