((Hello again. This is my second fic. I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I decided to act on it. I'll probably update once a week or so, more likely than not around the same time that I update NYL. I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own "Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison. But when I rule the world, I promise you I will. Lol. Ok, very short, but the first chapter of all of my fics will be. See my profile for the link for music. The chapters are always better when listening to them with the appropriate music. Today is Saturday, October 29, 2005. Enjoy!))
Hey, where did we go, days when the rains came?
She opened her eyes and looked at the clock by her bed.
Down in the hollow, playing a new game.
6:27.
Laughing and a–running, hey, hey, skipping and a–jumping.Every morning at exactly 6:27 her "alarm" went off.
In the misty morning fog with our hearts a-thumping and you…Her red four-poster had been charmed so that every morning a three-minute song would play.
My brown-eyed girl.
It was never the same song twice. Ever.
You, my brown-eyed girl.So, at 6:30 when the song finished, an annoying buzzing filled the four-poster until she rolled her lazy butt out of bed.
Whatever happened…Of course, she was out the second the music stopped.
To Tuesday and so slow?Because if she wasn't in the bathroom by 6:30
Going down the old mine…She'd never get in.
With a transistor radio.
Growing up with six brothers, she'd perfected the art of getting in and out of the bathroom in less than twenty minutes.
Standing in the sunlight laughing,
Her roommates were so vain.
Hiding 'hind a rainbow's wall.
She hated them.
Slipping and sliding…
Well, hate was a strong word.
All along the waterfall, with you…
She strongly, strongly disliked them.
My brown-eyed girl.
They took nearly and hour in the bathroom. Each.
You my…
That's close to four hours. But they cut it down to about two-and-a-half hours of fighting over the mirror, and two of them showered the night before.
Brown-eyed girl.
So it wasn't too bad. But she still avoided it by getting up thirty minutes before anyone else.
Do you remember when…Every morning since the middle of first year, when she realized that it was too hard to wake up any later.
We used to sing…
Now she was in her fifth year and had gotten used to the schedule.
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da?
Ginny Weasley rolled on her side, listening to the rest of the song. It ended soon after, and she stumbled into the tiny bathroom that she shared with the four others.
They were their own little clique, and Ginny was not a part of it. They worshipped the blonde, preppy little hobiscuit Kaylee Louis. Kaylee and Ginny had not been on the best of terms since the first day when Ginny "accidentally" put itching powder in Kaylee's soap after she called Hermione a "bushy-haired little beaver-person."
Kaylee was pissed.
Ginny thought she should've been more creative in her insults.
The three other girls in the dorm followed Kaylee's lead. They all wore their skirts so short that Ginny wondered why the teachers didn't notice. They put on so much makeup that Ginny had no idea what they actually looked like.
But that was none of her business.
She grabbed her bag and headed down to the common room to finish her homework from the night before.
She was always the first one up, so there was never anyone to bother her while she was working. She often talked aloud, and sat in the comfy chair directly in front of the fire. It was really nice, especially on cold mornings.
Ginny finished her homework just as everyone else started trickling down the stairs.
"Ready for breakfast?" Hermione asked upon spotting her best friend.
"Mmm hmm. Just let me put my bag away."
Soon the two girls were walking to the Great Hall, talking about everything and nothing.
Just as Ginny was finishing her last piece of bacon, Colin Creevy walked over.
"Ginny, Dumbledore wants to see you in his office."
"Now? I have Herbology in fifteen minutes!"
"Yeah. He said his favorite candy are Lemon Drops… whatever that means."
"It's only the second week of school, how much trouble could I be in?"
((Ten reviews before I update. Yes, I am holding my own story hostage. If you don't like it, too bad. Mwahahahaha! Lots and Lots of reviews!))