Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Hermione Ron or Ginny neither do I own the right to use them on a first term basis I do however own my brain which came up with Colette Jones, Scarlet and the Flying Pig.
Step 8: - Get a new look
Maybe you're plain and simple or maybe you're retroshique meets muggle styles, whatever your look, go for gold! Wear some new outfits, change your style make It more… BOLD!
If I were going to do this one –which I wouldn't-- I'd have to enlist the help of Tonks who quite frankly has the world's biggest wardrobe.
I think there's something wrong with my mirror, or else something wrong with my head. I've never before looked in a mirror and wished I were looking at somebody else. Sure I'd looked at parts of my body and wished they'd change; like my trademark Weasley red hair. But not like this… this was deeper. I'd gotten dressed and looked at myself and just stared.
My hair was its usual self deadly straight and red. My face was still covered in freckles, and my body was just as it was everyday. But there was something else about my appearance that disheartened me. I suppose the styled block colours (trademark of nineties fashion) didn't really do much for my complexion. But what was I thinking? This was favourite outfit. My white Capri's and my salmon pink shirt and matching flip-flops. I'd looked at myself a million times in this outfit and now I felt dejected at the sight of it.
See! Now this magazine is saying this is healthy. Just the thought of the step has made imaginary me totally question her confidence!
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," I sighed.
"Now that doesn't sound like the Ginny I know, the Ginny I know is much more bubbly. What's up?" Tonks' reflection looked back at me next to my own. I took my time to answer.
"Nothing." She raises a perfect eyebrow at my back. "Well actually," I start, changing my tone completely "I've been thinking…" I pause for her shock horror response "I could do with a new look." I turn away from the mirror, my smile a little too forced for my liking.
Tonks looked slightly surprised, her mouth in a perfect line, thinking. Its strange, I realise now, that I no longer feel the need to take Tonks in; she changes so much I don't bother. I bother now; her hair is peroxide blonde, her skin slightly tanned and she's dressed in clothes that I know I would look ridiculous in.
Ok that isn't Tonks that's Gwen Steffani (what you think a muggle has that good a style oh you should have heard her doing the backing on the weird sisters new song!) but I haven't seen Tonks in a while and I wanted to revamp her.
"What's wrong with your look?" she said, finally.
"I just think I need something new. And if, say that look doesn't work I could do something else," I could hear the carefree nature of my voice ebbing away. "What I need is someone with a extended wardrobe." I think by the way her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe that she got the hint.
"Oh," her voice was a little too carefree and her hand strayed to her hair, "you wouldn't read Teen Witch Weekly by any chance would you?" My eyes widened.
"What!" she knew, "err I may flick through it occasionally, Hermione reads it more than I do real…" I trailed off at the look she was giving me "yeah, yeah I do."
"I see, and would have read that article about how to get a guy? And, I'll take that fleeted look as a yes, would this guy be the infamous Harry Potter?" I nod dispiritedly. "Right. Well I'm here to tell you that that supposed 'article' was written by an old dorm mate of mine miss Colette Jones. Who, from what I gather from a lot of conversations with Hermione is about the equivalent of Lavender Brown, now would you trust Lavender Brown with your love life?" How can I argue with that? I don't even know why I'm doing this. I shrugged.
"It's worth a try." I offer half-heartedly.
"Ginny there is nothing wrong with the way you look, and honestly I thought you were beyond trying to change yourself to get a guy to like you."
"You can talk! Tonks the only time you look like yourself is when you're near you're mother!"
She sighed, and after that she resigned to help me, though she explained that when this plan fell to pieces she would show me what she truly looked like and why she changed so often.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked her after a long time.
"I didn't say it was going to work. I just said you looked amazing."
Well I did want different and this definitely was the deep end of different. My hair was still straight but was interestingly streaked with black, I had an oversized bikers leather jacket on and underneath that a top that actually looked like an extended bra and didn't even reach my belly button. And then I had a pair of very tight fitting black Capri trousers on which were actually mine so that wasn't too bad. The thing I was having the most trouble with was not the clothes - no matter how revealing - it was actually the make-up Tonks had insisted on me wearing. ("If your really going to do this you've got to do it right.")
Now it wasn't like Marilyn Manson (again you think he's normal enough to be muggle?) it was subtler but this was me; I never wore make-up. And now here I was at the top of the garden with generous amounts of black eyeliner and red lipstick the colour of my hair. I had to admit though; I did look good.
Self esteem at last.
But this was only the first part I still had to find Harry.
And there he was, up in the air as he always was when he wasn't moping, weirdly though my brother was nowhere to be seen. I walked and summing up all the courage I could muster I called out to him. Now I thought that maybe I should adapt a new attitude to go with my new look, which would explain… "Hey Potter!"
Harry stopped in midair not looking at me, apparently he recognised my voice because otherwise he would never have said: "Ginny, since when have I been Potter?" He turned around a cheeky smile on his face. At the sight of me his eyes widened and his hand slipped off his broom. Harry glided down to where I was standing the breath caught in my throat.
"You look… different," Harry managed to get out whilst taking in my new look. "What you… what you did to your hair…" he gestures.
"Yeah, you like it?" I ask hopefully.
"Well yeah! But it's not permanent is it?" I'll take that as a 'very well hidden' no. I give him a stony glare and raise an eyebrow. "I don't mean that! I mean – its just – I prefer your hair like it was. I really liked your hair the way it was."
it's true he does like my hair.
"Okay… err well do you like the rest of my outfit?" I prompt. His eyes rest on my exposed stomach.
"Yeah, but why?" he sounded genuinely nonplussed.
"Oh I just felt I needed a change."
"Really?" I was surprised at how – well – surprised he sounded. "I mean you didn't seem to me to have anything wrong with you… at all. Are you sure you 'just fancied a change'"
"Ginevra Molly Weasley! What are you wearing?" By the tone of his voice I half expected to see mum rounding the corner, but no it was Ron with Hermione just behind him.
"Ron, you don't have to middle name me it's only a look I'm trying out." I laughed.
"I'm really serious," he said his ears going red with emotion "Cover yourself!" he said removing his jumper and wrapping it around my middle.
"You Ronald Bilius Weasley better be joking." He shook his head in an infuriating way and his hands went to his sides. "I am allowed to dress however I like I'll have you know."
Ron sucked in air like a vacuum, "not in front of Harry you're not."
Before I knew what I was doing my wand was in my hand. Blood was pounding in my ears and the whole world went dark. All I could comprehend was my anger at Ron and how I was going to get back at him.
"Ginny? Ginny! Your underage you can't…"
"I can do whatever I bloody well want to, Hermione. Ron should know that he can't talk to me like I'm some scarlet woman off the street." I said deadly quite, still not looking at Ron.
"You decided to dress like one for some reason."
That was it. I let out a howl of anger, dropped my wand and pounced at Ron. Between fleeting glimpses of my own fist and Ron's slightly fearful face I felt rather masculine arms surround me and pull me towards the house.
"Tonks… please?"
"No, no, no. You are on your own from now on. Ron was enough… but when he got your mother…" she shuddered, "Listen Gin by all means use my wardrobe and make-up but don't directly involve me."
"Fine, she really laid into you didn't she?"
"Yeah, kept going on about infecting your young mind and stuff and when I told her I was only six years older anyway she went mental, but we'll get your brother back for it." She added with an evil smile.
"Cool. So what looks next?"
"No, I told you I'm out. But Ginny if it didn't work this time what makes you think it's going to work next time?"
I ignored her and continued my epic search through her wardrobe.
"This! This is perfect."
Tonks said nothing but raised an eyebrow at the outfit in my hand.
Just as I was putting the finishing touches to my hair (I had scrunched it up into three big curls in a clip at the back of my head,) Hermione walked in the door. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows raised themselves beyond her hairline.
"What, don't you like it?"
"You look amazing Ginny but how – how are you going to pull that off?" She asked still taking in the black satin of my halter neck dress.
"Simple, in an hour we're going out to dinner," I shrug, and turn back to the mirror to apply lip-gloss.
"But you're going to look so out of place I'm just going to wear this," referring to the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing. "I know Harry and Ron are slow but there bound to notice if you turn up all dressed up and nobody else does."
I turn to face her again an evil glint that I know she'll recognise in my eyes. "Well… yeah but, if say, someone else was dressed up then I wouldn't look so stupid.
What? If I have to be evil to myself then I'm going to be evil to Hermione to…
"-Oh no… no, no, no. No way." Said Hermione shaking her head and hands in protest.
"But 'Mione," I start in a mock pleading voice as I moved over to the wardrobe "Wouldn't you want to wear this?" I chuck the light blue dress at her and go to put my black kitten heels on.
I stumble slightly as I walk into the front yard; the place we had designated to meet at. It seemed as though Harry, Ron and my parents had been waiting a while because they were all seated on the grass comfortably. It wasn't my fault Hermione couldn't apply eyeliner.
As Hermione and I stepped into view Ron and Harry's mouths fell open, I knew Hermione looked good but Ron was practically drooling. I think Harry was impressed too because he still hadn't shut his mouth.
"Are we going? Its just we should get a move on." Dad spoke up and leaning forward so only I could hear, "you look lovely, darling."
'The Flying Pig.' I hated that name so much. It wasn't the staff or the food or anything remotely related to the actual restaurant really. It had everything to do with a particular unwanted memory.
Warning: Flashbacks in daydreams are weird
Scarlet sat on the opposite bed from mine in our dormitory. We were only in our second year and both in 'love' with a certain Harry Potter. We'd been talking for at least an hour about the miseries and pains of unrequited love. I had to say, up until she told me that she liked Harry as well, I'd never trusted her. But as I said, that all changed.
"I don't know which one of us has it worst really me because he knows me and doesn't care or you who he doesn't even know." I state after hearing a funny anecdote about how she asked him to get a book for her of a shelf in the library and after he'd picked the book without looking at her she'd sat down and had to read a book about the properties of the philosophers stone. A book she said had been so dusty she could have sworn it hadn't been read in years. (I of course realised that that book would have been perfect for the trio two years ago.)
"Oh its definitely me. You try reading about some bloke called Flamel while your worrying about looking stupid putting a book back which you assured him you 'really needed'." She laughed.
"No, what I mean is you don't know if he'll ever like you, but me, well I already know he doesn't."
"I suppose." She said quietly, which honestly took me by surprise, as had I been in her position I would have reassured myself.
"Yeah, the day Harry Potter likes me as more than a friend is the day—"
"The day pigs fly." She laughed.
It took me so long to understand that Scarlet was just a bitch but I got there in the end. But well anyway it didn't stand good steed for the evening, as we would be eating in The Flying Pig of all places. I sigh as I enter for some reason half expecting Scarlet to jump out and laugh at my pathetic attempt to get Harry to like me.
"How come you look so nervous, Gin?"
"I don't." I reply changing my expression completely unfortunately Harry wasn't convinced.
"Yeah you did, you looked like Voldermort was about to jump out at you." I admire the way he can joke about stuff like that now; and sometimes I really envy him for it. I touched my hair and realised I needed to go to the toilet and was about to excuse myself like I normally do when I realised it wasn't very conservative of me, so I just began to walk to the toilet (it was marked with a signpost shaped like a pig)
Well that would have been the plan hadn't my loving brother called out loudly "Hey Gin where you going?" for the whole restaurant to hear.
"Somewhere," I said harshly and turning back to the toilet.
"Where's somewhere?" Shouted, this time, Harry a funny look in his eyes. By this point everyone in the restaurant was looking at me, intrigued.
"The toilet," I whisper deadly; my face burning like the day I sent Harry that Valentine.
I will never let myself live that act of childish stupidity down.
Half of the restaurant roared with laughter, my family and Harry included, Hermione on the other hand gave me a pitying look. I walk the final steps to the toilet, to salvation.
I look into the mirror after washing my hands and can't believe what I look like: my hair, which had been separated into loose curls was even now straitening out, my eye-make up which I had spent hours trying to get to match the emerald necklace mum had lent me was smudged, and my lip gloss was non-existent except for a small trace of red. In short I looked nothing like I had in my bedroom. Harry must think me a mess.
It's called looking interesting and if Harry was thinking that he's got his priorities distinctly messed up. Save the world or worry about how Ginny looks, save the world or worry about how Ginny looks, save the world or worry about how Ginny looks? Real conundrum there. .
I walk back to the table and feel my face flush as everyone stares at me humorously. I take the seat next to Harry; who does not for your information pull the chair out for me. I try to ignore the soft blister starting up on my ankle from my heels.
A very good-looking teenage waiter comes over to take our orders, everyone orders their meals finishing with Hermione who, apparently rather taken with this waiter, giggles and says "the chicken burger with you on the side," Everyone at the table stares at her, "I mean a side order of chips. I didn't mean—" she looks paralysed with embarrassment and goes a deep shade of red but not nearly as red as Ron who looks ready to knock good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter straight out, he suits himself by getting up to go to the bathroom and banging good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter into a pot plant.
Hermione shrieks "Oh I'm so sorry I don't know what his problem is," This is all to much for me and Harry who both burst into laughter causing Hermione to give us an odd look and ask "What?"
"Nothing," I assure her, Harry winks at me discreetly, and I feel my stomach flutter.
Good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter turns and waits for me to make my order. Not being graced with the opportunity to look at the menu I automatically ask for the most conservative dish I can think of.
"I'll have the salmon thank you," I say in my prissiest voice. Good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter looks at me oddly and says
"Err sorry we don't supply salmon but we do have a lovely bottle of chardonnay in the back room, we were going to save it for the queen but what the heck." I glare at him and mutter
"I'll have the chicken salad."
"Excellent choice madam." Snide-and sarcastic-good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter bowed to me and left with a flourish. I turn back to everyone and find them giving me very odd looks. What? Just because the last time I ate salmon I had an allergic reaction does that not mean I can't order it. Overall I do not think tonight is going very well.
"I'm gonna go find Ron," I declared,
"I'll go with you!" Harry cried.
I shot him an odd look but don't query into his behaviour.
Because of course I have no freedom of speech.
We walked in silence towards the toilets were we supposed Ron must be. Harry walked freely past the sign reading "Men" and I drew back. I jump as I hear Harry's voice - slightly muffled - ring out:
"Ah come on Ron; what's the matter?" he was clearly enjoying himself immensely.
"You know exactly what's wrong with me, Harry, Hermione looking at that waiter like she can't get enough of him."
"Err Ron—"
"No Harry! I've had enough, he's probably gonna ask her out and then I'll have lost my chance!"
"Yeah but its just—"
"How can I have been this stupid?"
"I dunno but—"
"I've finally realised that I like her and then—"
"Ginny's outside!" Harry shouted. There was a ricocheting silence and then and Ron's face appeared at the door, looked at me for a second and then disappeared again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" said Ron in anguish.
"I tried!" replied Harry indignantly "She's heard now, come back to the table."
"Fine," Said Ron begrudgingly "but how about Ginny knowing that you—"
"ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT!"
Ron's been threatening Harry with something like that for weeks.
They appeared again: Ron looking smug and Harry avoiding my eye. My curiosity peaked.
As we got back to the table I noticed that Hermione still looked a bit dazed by her encounter with good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter, so I poked her.
"Enjoying that outfit now, huh Hermione?"
She looked horrified, "Oh no you don't think he only likes me because of the way I look do you?"
"Oh no Hermione I'm sure he understands your character brilliantly after asking you for your order."
Hermione – thank goodness I was starting to think I'd lost her – rolled her eyes and shoved me hard. I of course didn't give up there.
"But I thought Hermione that you wanted to impress someone else," I give her a significant look and she blushes taking a sip of her drink.
Her hand shoots to her hair as good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter returns with her and my parent's food. He smiles back as he makes a show of changing her napkin because 'its crumpled.'
I hear Harry mutter in Ron's ear "if you kill him now, mate, he'll never bring us our food." And I chuckle to myself. But I don't seem to be the only one who heard Harry; because good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter gives Ron a smug smile and swaggers off only to return moments later bearing, as promised, Harry and Ron's meals. And with the art of someone either extremely practiced or extremely clumsy sort of threw Ron's plate of spaghetti at Ron unfortunately for myself at the angle it hit Ron lots of it splattered on me. I screamed as Ron yelped angrily.
Come on this wouldn't be a 15 Easy Steps moment without the horrific embarrassment; you think I'd let myself go this entire step without spilling something on myself.
The waiters insincere apologies followed me all the way to the bathroom where I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror. My red curls were donned with spaghetti so was my face and worst of all was the fact that Tonks' beautiful black satin dress was covered in it. I dejectedly fell to the floor.
"Get up Ginny; muggles don't clean with magic." A ray of hope had shined its head.
"Magic! Mum you can fix this can't you?"
Mum looks at me pityingly "I can get rid of the sauce Ginny but all the muggles in the restaurant just saw what happened to you, you can't just go back in looking like nothing happened," she raised her wand and instantly I feel the sauce lift off me taking with it the remnants of my make-up; looking in the mirror my hair doesn't look as silky as before but it still looks ok I turn back to face her and she points her wand at me before I can even question her she squirts water down my front and onto my hair. It is safe to say that I now look like a drowned rat.
I returned to the table stiffly now limping because of the blister rubbing on my ankle. I observed the table and noticed that Harry was missing I look around and catch a glimpse of familiar messy black hair. There in the corner is our waiter being shouted at to good measure by who I must presume is the manager, but surprisingly observing it all with his hands crossed in a intimidating way is Harry. I smile despite myself as I sit back down. Hermione too is watching the little exchange in the corner but she looks more worried than I do.
"Oh I do hope he doesn't get into trouble; or fired! You don't think they'll fire him do you Ginny it was only an accident."
I turn my, still wet, head to her "I'm sure it was only an accident." Yeah if he accidentally managed to hit Ron and miss Hermione who he was closer too,
"His name's John look," she showed me the napkin he'd given her, it was branded with his name and a number, and giggled in what I could have sworn was a very good impression of Lavender Brown.
"What's with the number?" I asked confused. "is it like a serial number?"
"No. You should really start paying more attention to your father. It's a telephone number." She stretched out the word 'telephone' like it would cause a dawning comprehension on my part.
"And what's a telephone?"
"Its like floo 'cept you can only hear someone not see them." Came Ron's voice.
Only in my head could Ron beat Hermione to an explanation and live to tell the tale.
I turn to Ron, who is looking a lot worse for ware as I suppose do I, but the thing that seems to be getting to him most of all, more than even the damp patches on his top, are the anxiously flirtatious looks being shot between Hermione and this waiter.
'Clumsy'-snide-and-sarcastic-good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter comes over and apologises insincerely to Ron and myself and leaves us to our meal.
Third times a charm, that's what they used to say. When you fall down the first two times the third times lucky, right? I sure do hope so. I look at myself in my expanded mirror and almost laugh – have I learnt nothing? My hair is bubble gum pink and has been bewitched – with Tonks' wand not mine – to give the elusion that it is in fact cut short at the back and long at the front, I'd say quite a cool colour and cute on anyone but myself as it only manages to make my face increasingly round and my complexion more red than pale, and being pale – excessive amounts of white eye make-up and rosy pink ("to match my hair,") lipstick isn't gonna quite cut it, is it now?
And my outfit? I'm wearing an oversized stripy black and white jumper, which succeeds in making me looking like a prisoner of askaban with white leggings (n'uf said.)
I'm not going out like this.
I may seem stupid but I'm not no matter what that step says it would just be idiotic to go out dressed like this.
Then came the knock on the door.
Okay, so I'm evil, but its funny. Go on guess who's at the door…
"Ginny?" a familiar but muffled voice enquires outside; their hand already turning the handle, "Ginny are you in there?"
"Yes." I answer; apparently this person takes this as an invitation to come in because by any means the door opens to reveal Harry.
"Your mum says…" his eyes widen, "your mum says…" he looks out the window "that dinners ready."
I shut my eyes in horror and when I open my eyes I find Harry, still there, staring at me in an almost unreadable way, as if he was confused and amused at the same time.
"Its okay, you can laugh." His face instantly cracks a smile and he leans back against the door frame, in a admittedly adorable way.
"I don't want to laugh," he says simply. I decide to play my horror as humour.
"Can I offer you a subsequent package? A chuckle perhaps or a titter?"
He smiles again and looks me directly in the eye, "Why though?"
"Why pink? I know, I have no idea, I think I was trying to go light but staying clear of orange and blonde…" he gives me a look and I trail off.
"No, why do all this. Why try and change yourself? Why all of a sudden."
"I'm not, it's just a new look." I suddenly become very defensive "and if you wouldn't mind leaving I would like to get changed." I give him a cold stare, and he gets up, looking slightly hurt.
But as he leaves he says "For the record, there's nothing wrong with who you are or for that matter how you look."
And I suppose he was right.
Too right he was right, if there were something wrong with me I wouldn't seek the advice of teen witch weekly!
Step 9: - Be Subtle
That may just be the longest chapter so far! I dunno I just thought what the heck and ran with it, hmm not so sure how I feel about this chapter… really glad that that whole slums over – with the horrifically unfunny chapters – but I think this stories actually come out the other side of funny and I have little explanation both ways – Ginny's imagination is getting a little more day dream than anything now – and I'll be using that to great effect, and also the chapters I'm writing now are far less slapstick and more well I dunno but if you don't like it let me know and I'll see what I can do for you. Or am I being crazy and picky? Let me know anyway… review!
Love among the coconuts –