Ginny growled at her reflection. She could NOT go to Diagon Alley looking like this. She sighed long-sufferingly and tugged her hair out of the sixth ponytail it had been positioned in. she frowned at the girl who stared back at her from the mirror seeing, as is common with most teenage girls, only the imperfections.
At a very recent 16 years old, Ginny stood a not-so-formidable 5ft five, but she held herself with a straight back and a proud chin that gave the appearance of being taller than she in reality was. Waves of rich, bright, auburn hair fell across her shoulders, the summer sun had bleached it to verging on strawberry blonde nearing her crown. But that would darken rapidly as the winter months drew on. Greeny-hazel eyes glared back at her, the colour of which, to her, were quite unremarkable, but through them so many emotions showed that they constantly seemed to be sparkling with life. And of course the spattering of freckles, which had become much more pronounced over the summer, that covered her nose and cheekbones. She wrinkled her face distastefully. Whose idea of a joke was it to invent freckles anyway she thought in annoyance.
In just under a week Ginny would be going back to Hogwarts for her sixth year. She considered this thoughtfully whilst scooping up her long hair and attempting another ponytail.
There was a sharp crack and the hair band pinged across the room, no longer in a circular shape. Ginny muttered a few choice words that would have made even her brothers blush before stamping her foot in annoyance. That was her last decent hair band as well!
"Ginevra Olivia Weasley! Get your pretty little bottom down here right now!" Ron's dulcet tones floated up the stairs, making the roof tiles rattle. "Don't make me come and get you!" he added, almost as an afterthought.
Ginny sighed before rolling her eyes.
"You had best go," piped up her mirror, "he sounded quite angry." Ginny glared at it. It always took Ron's side.
# # #
Diagon Alley was bustling with people as usual, every height, shape and expression, carrying every possible shape of baggage. Ginny sat on a slightly rotten lurid green bench, surveying how much money she had, and what she could actually purchase with it. Her clothes/shoes train of thought was (quite rudely) interrupted by a loud squeal, and she was one of the 'lucky' spectators to witness the joyful reunion of Harry, Ron and Hermione. She watched reluctantly, feeling the familiar stirrings of jealousy in her heart.
Ginny scooped up her money into a blue tattered purse and wandered absently away from the happy threesome, only barely avoiding being bruised by a hurrying young mother with a peculiarly large star-shaped package. Internally Ginny shook herself, angry that she still hadn't come to terms with 'The Harry Thing'.
Harry James Potter. She still often wondered what he thought about, what were his fears and doubts, whether he ever thought of her… At sixteen she understood that he was not going to love her in the way she wanted, and he never had. Desperately a part of her wanted to hate him passionately, to curse his name and hold a grudge. But whatever other weaknesses she held, she was strong enough to judge and condemn people to things they had no control over. And she knew Harry had no control over what he felt for her, just as she had none over her infatuation in return. Past infatuation she reminded herself vehemently. He would always see her as a substitute little sister, and she would eventually come to terms with that she hoped. Ginny sighed, meandering absently.
The colours and noise washed over her, and she took a time to just enjoy the sun on her face and to ignore the frustration in her heart. Unintentionally her random drifting guided her into Retorick Alley.
Tripping over a loose cobblestone sent her tumbling back to reality. Feeling the blood rush to her cheeks she quickly scrambled upright and brushed off her robes. Just pretend nothing happened! She told herself firmly, grimacing as she felt a bruise begin to blossom on her knees, Ginny glanced around apprehensively before sighing in relief it's not as if I know anyone around… here… she took another good look around her, sure there was no one pointing and laughing, but where on earth?Ginny realised she didn't have an iota of an idea where she was. At the same time she caught sight on the worst-possible-person-at-this-particular-time on the other side of the Alley. Draco Malfoy in all his tasteful glory lazed unconcernedly against a nearby brick wall being talked at by his father.
Ducking not-so-elegantly behind a nearby neon pink bench (who chose the bench colour scheme anyhow?) she scrutinized Malfoy interestedly I'm not hiding because I'm SCARED she reassured herself I just don't LIKE him. He looked very bored she observed, well she imagined she would be too if Lucius Malfoy was lecturing HER. Well actually she'd probably run away and hide. But that was neither here nor there. Not that he'd ever lower himself to talk to me anyway Ginny assured herself placidly. She let her gaze rove over the shops and window fronts in this strange higgledy-piggledy place. At least it wasn't Knockturn Alley; she thanked the gods for small mercies.
Ginny's gaze strayed back to the Malfoys to discover they had vanished. Well, at least now all I have to worry about is getting back and finding the rest of my family she thought, standing up. Surprisingly Ginny found she was quite calm, considering she was hopelessly lost, there weren't too many people about and the only person she HAD seen who she'd known had been MALFOY of all people.
"Lost something Miss Weasley?" came a cold inflection from just behind her left shoulder.
Ginny was certain she jumped at least a foot in the air, before spinning wand in hand to face whoever it was.
Draco cocked an eyebrow amusedly quick reaction he noted.
"God" she breathed clutching her pounding heart and taking deep breaths.
"Yes, but you can just call me 'Malfoy'" he replied with a mock self-sacrificial air.
"JEEZ Malfoy," Ginny hissed, irritated "was it really necessary to sneak up?"
He shrugged noncommittally.
They eyed each other up as opponents do, noting strengths, weaknesses, and occasionally just things of interest.
Draco broke the face off, which served to mildly confuse Ginny, "I don't see your tribe." He paused, smirking "Sorry, FAMILY"
Instead of going the traditional red Weasley colour Ginny simply smiled sweetly, this time confusing Draco. "Yes I do seem to have misplaced them rather, don't I? Which I guess is a pro for you, else you'd probably be plastered up against the wall" she replied, imitating Draco's shrug from earlier.
Ginny was quite impressed with herself; somehow she'd managed to string an entire COHERENT sentence together to Malfoy! Draco was quite taken aback for the same reason. He recovered quickly.
"Little minds shouldn't be left to wander," he sneered calmly "they get lost easily. And often," he took a step closer menacingly, as she backed up a step "bite off more than they can chew." He had her backed against the side of the lane now. "Merlin knows how you got into Retorick Alley in the first place, this is the Alley of the well-spoken, and I have to say you stick out like a sore-thumb"
" Then I deduce that I should acquiesce, and proceed sophisticatedly hence." She grinned at his slightly nonplussed expression. Ginny pushed past his lean frame, audibly saying on her way past "And I don't think I'm the one that has done the biting…"
# # #
"But he didn't touch you?" Ron re-affirmed
"No," replied Ginny for what felt the sixtieth time that evening " he didn't lay a finger on me."
"Good." said Ron. There was a lengthy pause. "Not at all?"
"NO. He STILL didn't touch me," Ginny answered again getting slightly more high-pitched, "now much as I love the certain quality of circular conversations you offer, I think I need to go do something productive. Like watch paint dry." With that she gave a perceptible "Humph" and walked away from Ron, muttering.
Ginny sat on her bed, and swung her legs around so they were propped against one side of the lavender walls. She stared out of the small window that was in her room and admired the azure sky. It was moments like this she could live for, times when she was just her, no fronts, walls or barriers, she could think, analyse and daydream to her hearts content.
She had told the 'golden triplet' of her run-in with Draco, and had, of course, received the stereotypical reactions. Absent, indifferent interest from Harry who had merely shrugged and said that Ginny should have stayed with them (well, duh!), she got slightly-over the top brotherly concern from Ron and had suffered beneath the shrewd, knowing gaze of Hermione. In many ways she wished she'd never told them, because it hadn't done her any good and had simply given them one more thing to whisper about. Ginny was mentally aware that all three cared for her, as she did for them, they just had mixed-up ways of showing it. Emotionally however, she often felt excluded and ostracised form their elite group and sometimes felt as though if she dropped off the face of the planet tomorrow, they would barely bat an eyelid.
Ginny scowled at the ceiling. Speaking of CARING, at 'sweet' sixteen the one thing that laid most heavily on her mind (and heart) was that she'd never been kissed! (A boyfriend also conspicuously absent.) It was a secret she held close to her heart, and everyday she was acutely aware that people of her own age were doing plenty more than just kissing. It was everywhere, newspapers, witch's wireless but she came into contact with it most in 'Secure Allure' (a popular teenage witch magazine); conquests and achievements were splayed constantly across page after page. And yet poor widdle Ginny Weasley hasn't even been within range of any boy's lips, let alone anything else! She reminded herself self-depreciatingly. Sighing, Ginny studied her legs balanced against the slightly detaching wallpaper and wondered once again what other people thought of her. I mean there HAS to be something wrong, when nobody has ever shown even a smidgen of interest in me. Ever! Came the negatively demoralising thought from the self-esteem destroyer than every teenager and young person possesses.
Shaking herself out of that depressing and ultimately circular train of thought, Ginny rested her head back on the bed cover, unaware of how her vivid hair clashed almost painfully with the tawdry pink hearts, before fluttering her full lashes closed. For the time being she was simply content to enjoy the light breeze from her bedroom window on her face and lay her hearts turmoil to rest, after all, who knew what the future would bring?
# # #
Disclaimer: STILL own nothing. Well, nothing recognisable anyway.