Chapter 3- Meeting Death
Ginny sat in front of the shared vanity. It wasn't anything special, except for the fact that Felicia and Julia were fussing over both herself and Cathryn. "Let's use blue," Felicia said.
"No green, please," Ginny suggested. Green was Ginny's sign of danger. Besides that, it matched her dress. Cathryn wanted to go as people from their favorite book characters. Cathryn had decided on Jane, from Pride and Prejudice. Her hair was all done up in curls, and Felicia had found her a perfect Victorian Muggle gown.
Ginny had to think for some time, but ended up deciding on Eowyn from a series she had read called Lord of the Rings. Hermione had told Ginny about it, and Eowyn had been her favorite character. Her hair wasn't golden, but Ginny figured that would be okay. She settled with a forest green medieval gown that Felicia had in selection of. "Oh, let me dye it," Julia begged. Julia herself had brown hair with a dark and light weave. She was endlessly changing the color and Ginny almost couldn't keep up with it.
"No," Ginny said looking at her red hair. It was what made her a Weasley. She couldn't give that up.
"Oh, just do her make-up. No one will know who she is anyway," Felicia said, making Ginny roll her eyes incredulously at the girl's lack of tact.
When the two fashion queens were done with Ginny and Cathryn, they looked spectacular. Both ready to have themselves a good time. "Wait," Julia said, just before they went out the door, money ready for the Knight bus. "Don't wear your glasses," she said.
"Oh right," Cathryn said, placing them on the entry table, able to see with them just enough. Luckily, Cathryn was near sided, so at least she wouldn't be squinting in an effort to see her dance partners. "You two behave yourselves," Cathryn added, as they left the flat.
"Oh we will," Julia answered in a sing-songy voice. The two of them (though extremely jealous that Cathryn and Ginny got to spend their evening with several Quidditch players) were going out to a party of their own. One more intriguing, so they said.
Felicia and Julia were just about ready when Harry arrived. The flat they rented didn't include connection to the Floo network, so Harry had come by way of his Rough diamond broom, invisibility cloak included. Felicia was the one to open her door, the playboy bunny outfit fitting tightly against her tanned figure. "Oh Harry, Ginny's already left," Felicia said, not knowing about the argument a month prior.
"Oh," Harry said, dressed up in entirely black attire, including a large billowing cloak, and a white mask covering half of his face, the half with the scar to be specific. "Do you know where she went?" Harry had heard Fred and George were having themselves a party, like they usually did on Halloween, but when he hadn't seen her there, Harry figured Ginny must have stayed at home.
"Ginny and Cathryn went to some Quidditch ball thingy," Julia said from somewhere inside. "Special invite," she added bitterly.
"Oh, okay," Harry said, thinking it must have been something for the magazine. He felt something, though he didn't know what it was. Harry recognized a want to see Ginny as he made his way back to Fred and George's.
Ginny walked into the large white entryway, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. "Oh, Diane," Ginny said, almost immediately coming upon the Chief Editor's wife. "How are you?" she asked, giving the woman in her fifties a small hug.
"Oh, good, good," Diane replied with a small smile, the few wrinkles showing deepening with her smile. "I'm so glad you could come."
"I'm just glad your husband offered me the tickets," Ginny said, her hands grasping Diane's lightly.
"If he didn't I think I would have made him sleep on the couch," Diane said with a bit of a mocking scold. "With all that you do for him, well, I couldn't see him giving them to anyone else, unless you refused, of course."
"And that's where I came in," Cathryn said, standing just behind Ginny. "Hello, I'm Ginny's roommate."
"This is Cathryn, Cathryn, this is Diane. She's my bosses wife," Ginny said, remembering her manners. The two started chatting a bit as Ginny's attention trailed off.
Just behind Diane was a tall man who seemed to be looking at Ginny. He stood just to the right, leaning on a white marble pillar that framed the staircase. He was wearing all black and his face hidden by a colorful mask, his head covered by a tricorn hat; black with gold trimming. The man nodded at Ginny just as she was addressed. "Isn't that right Ginny?" Diane said, looking at the young red-head.
"Oh, what?" Ginny said, taking her a moment to get that she was asked a question.
"Diane was just telling me what a perfectionist her husband is," Cathryn said with a smile.
"Yes, he is," Ginny said, taking one more glance back at the bold man, who seemed to have been caught up in conversation. Her mind went back to the two woman standing in front of her. "Just the other week he wouldn't approve a page because the text was two spaces off. I personally liked it where it was."
"Lance should listen to you more often," Diane said with an elegant laugh. "I'll let you girls go enjoy yourself, instead of wasting away an evening with so many good looking athletes to dance with."
"Never," Ginny said incredulously, hugging the woman again. Diane was like a second mother, really. The way she'd scold her husband for making Ginny stay at work too long, and ordering food – since Diane didn't cook-- when Ginny did have to work late. "I do have a question though, do you know who that is," Ginny said, motioning to the darkly dressed man, hoping with Diane's knowledge of those at these kinds of parties, Diane would be able to inform her of such. Just out of curiosity, you're not interested, Ginny told herself, feeling a pang of guilt, even though Harry was the one who had wanted to see other people.
"Not by name," Diane said, after getting a glimpse at the man, "but I do know he finances a lot with International Quidditch. Charming young man, met him once before," she added, then gave one last squeeze and farewell to Ginny before heading off to mingle further.
Almost immediately a thin and fairly tall man came up to Cathryn, asking her to dance. She accepted the offer and his arm, as the brown-haired Quidditch player lead Cathryn down the stairs and to a large dancing hall area. Ginny smiled, looking over the balcony as her friend walked down gracefully, in the arm of a man. Ginny took a breath, half wishing Harry were here with her. Likely Harry would plead not to be forced into dancing, but at least she wouldn't have lacked company. Besides that, Ginny had gotten to thinking of how she hadn't gone to see him since he wrote to her.
Just as her thoughts were playing with ideas of leaving to see Harry, someone tapped her shoulder. When Ginny turned, she saw the man who had been looking at her earlier. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, in a voice that made Ginny's heart jump, though she didn't know why. There was something fascinatingly eerie about it, but she couldn't put her finger on just what made it so.
"Sure," Ginny said casually, accepting his arm as he led her down the stairs where she'd just seen Cathryn moments before.
As the mysterious man led, Ginny smiled slightly. "What is it that you're supposed to be dressed as?" Ginny asked, raising one eyebrow as he led her in the waltz sounding from behind her.
"Death," the man whispered just loud enough for Ginny to hear.
"Really? I think you've been misdirected in the fashion," Ginny said. "I wouldn't think death to be so beautiful."
"Oh, but it is," he said with a small smirk showing beneath the mask. "Death is possibly the best state you'll see most people in, as a matter of fact. How else, therefore, could Death be?"
"Well, mostly I think you've got it right," Ginny said, liking this intrigue, even if she knew she wouldn't take it anywhere. "Dark, black, solemn; it's the mask that ruins it."
"No," the man said firmly, "it's the mask that makes it. Everyone wears one at some point, and it's the shroud that Death truly wears as a mask. My mask is Death's true face."
"You'd make death appear sweet. You'd make it seem so glamorous as though it showed itself off," Ginny said, trying to figure the puzzle, wondering why it had anything to do with her.
"And you'd make Death seem so drab," the man said. "You see, most people take your view on Death; horribly dull and not nearly what Death should be. Death is the only one that makes everyone equal."
"Everyone is equal," Ginny retorted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And yet you wouldn't treat them that way," the man said.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Of course I treat people equally."
"You treat those of poor circumstance as your equals, while acting as those with wealth are beneath you."
"That's where you're wrong, some members that would call themselves upper class have looked down on me, not the other way around," Ginny said somewhat bitterly, only furthering the man's point.
"Perhaps that just depends on your viewing point," the man finished with a shrug. "So, what are you dressed as? No, let me guess," he added before Ginny could say. "You're a damsel in distress, a princess waiting for your prince who's tall with ebony hair and a scar marked across his head to come and save you."
"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, wondering if she'd ever met this man without knowing so before, though it wouldn't be completely out of the ordinary for some stranger to know she had dated The-boy-who-lived.
"You have to admit it would be romantic, right," the man said, ready to paint the picture, "Harry Potter scales the tower to save his beautiful red-headed maiden from the highest tower before being sacrificed to the dragon."
"Romantic, but not idealistic," Ginny responded keeping a smile on to humor whoever this was. "How about the red-headed maiden saves herself from the dragon to live a life pursuing the things she would find appeasing to her."
"Does that include a life with the dark-haired prince?"
"Maybe," Ginny said. "Maybe not."
"I'm not from Witch Weekly and this can be completely off the record, if that's what you're worried about," the man said, almost reading Ginny's thoughts to the inquiry.
"Honestly, I don't know," Ginny said. "Momentarily I'm not holding my breath, but who's to say that can't change?"
"What if a prince from a far away land came to steal you away," the man asked.
"I would feel sorry for him. Thank you for the dance," Ginny said as the song seemed to end, wanting to see what had become of Cathryn and her own dashing dance partner.
"I wouldn't," the stranger said before Ginny could completely leave.
"You wouldn't what?"
"Feel sorry for him," the man answered, bending into a bit of a bow and lifting Ginny's hand to his lips. "Perhaps another dance tonight?" he requested.
"Perhaps," Ginny said, then turned reluctantly to find Cathryn.
Ginny and Cathryn walked into their flat, expecting it to be empty, Felicia and Julia tending to be the stay out until dawn type. Surprisingly enough, however, they were both sitting on the couch, gabbing away about their evening. "What about you two? Did you get any Seekers," Julia asked using the double meaning.
"A Chaser actually," Cathryn said quietly with a bit of a blush.
"Oh, do tell," Felicia prodded.
"It's not that big a deal," Cathryn said, though just thinking about him brought butterflies to his stomach. "His name is Derek Heathman and he play for—"
"Ireland! You've got an Irishman?" Felicia asked with a large stupid smile on her face. She wasn't what you'd call a sports fan, but she certainly knew him from magazine covers, being one of the best looking Quidditch players in her opinion and in the opinion of half the witches that had seen his picture. "And here we thought you were hopeless," she added, making it hard for Cathryn to know if it was a compliment or not.
"Way to go Cathy," Julia said, using the distasteful nickname. "What about you?" she asked, her attention turning to Ginny.
"She had a mystery man after her," Cathryn said, filling it in.
"Oh really," Felicia said raising an eyebrow in interest. "What's he like?"
"Charming, tall, rich, probably handsome," Ginny said, sitting down, "and you can have him if you'd like."
"I thought you were going to date other people," Felicia said.
"Not people like that," Ginny said, the thought of judging the rich coming to her mind, though she pushed it away fervently as she told herself that wasn't the reason. "Besides, he didn't get my contact information like Derek did," Ginny said, putting the attention back onto Cathryn.
As the two girls continued to make inquiries to the Chaser, Ginny sat back, listening, her eyes growing tired as she realized her feet were a bit sore. She tried to remember how many times she had danced with the man, not daring to ask for a name knowing it would ruin the fun of dancing with him. Five. Five dances, each time more interesting with conversation than the one preceding it. Just as her eyes started to imagine the face that belonged to the strong steely eyes, she was brought back to reality. "Oh yeah, Ginny, Harry came by earlier," Felicia said, standing up to get ready to go to sleep.
"Oh, alright," Ginny said, realizing she had forgotten Harry all night. Not stopping to ponder if this was a good or a bad thing, Ginny got up to get changed.
A/N: End of Chapter 3!!!
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