Disclaimer: Characters from the Harry Potter novels obviously belong to J.K. Rowling. I own Arion (Professor Caelestis), Kiribati, Harrumph's Wizarding Dictionary, "fuckage", Damasacus, and now… Louis-Christian Pepinot.
Author's Note: You know… when I was writing this… I was reading the original Author's Note that was written up here and it said, "It's Christmas Break… I'll try updating more often." How funny… it's now Spring Break. I must shamefully admit that it's taken me three months to update, and I most ask that no sharp projectiles be launched in my direction. Many thanks.
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Chapter 8: Skin
Closure… closureclosureclosure. Ginny was close to banging her head in rhythm with the little voice in the back of her mind. :Bangbangbang:. Okay, she was already there. There were little eleven year olds screaming, the trolley was rolling down the aisle some ways away, the train was tooting for no damnably good reason, Damascus was getting restless, and when had the bloody compartment reach the temperatures of a sauna?
Closure?
Eyes squeezed shut, she willed herself some peace. Psht. As if she'd had any since Arion came barging into her life, and now what? Did she have a crush on him? Did she feel butterflies in her stomach when he was around? Did she want to kiss him again? Psht. No? Arion had taken her muddled brain and tossed it into a puddle and played a lively game of football with it. She groaned and rolled over. It was definitely time to get a breath of fresh, corridor air.
Sliding the door open, she found herself witnessing a truly heinous, ghastly but altogether hysterical sight. It was Malfoy. Actually it was a bunch of first year girls who strangely resembled greedy hags, their fingers reaching uncomfortably close to a cowering Draco Malfoy who'd been trapped at the back of the train. This was most unlike Draco. What happened Monsieur leSuave? Smirking slightly, she stepped out, "Virginia!" Scarily simultaneously, all the first years turned and pinned her with a gaze of he's-ours-come-near-him-and-suffer-the-death-of-evil-jealous-uber-mini-bitches. Ginny, slightly annoyed by this, smiled icily.
"Now, now girls, place nice. There's lots to go around." They looked at her questioningly, "He's quite cute isn't he?" That really did it. The entire lot of them exploded into agreement, and energetic demonstrations of devotion (a pig-tailed brunette yelped and threw herself at his feet… Malfoy cringed). Ginny shot him a look. "Actually, Draco and I have a bit of an appointment right now, ladies. Would you mind horribly if we excused ourselves?" There was a pregnant pause before a minute Armageddon was staged.
"What appointment!"
"She's taking him away!"
"Stop, right now!"
"What's happening!"
"She's taking him away!"
"Nooooooooooooo!"
"He's ours! He's mine!"
"HE'S MINE!"
"SHE'S TAKING HIM AWAY!" Ginny hoped to the dear lord that she hadn't been like this when she was their age. Sighing dramatically, she turned back to the girls to find that Draco was no longer plastered to the back of the train. In fact, he was holding her in front of him like a shield.
"Girls, perhaps you haven't heard, but Mr. Malfoy and I have an arrangement. We meet on a regular basis, and no one question us, no one stops us, it is accepted, it is common knowledge. You will not try anything. Yes? Yes." she said, before pivoting and walking down the corridor, closely followed by Draco. A car down, their pace slowed to a leisurely stroll, and Malfoy have reacquired his Slytherin arseholeness.
"So… we have an arrangement, do we?" he asked, smirk firmly in place.
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy, a quite inescapable one, I hope you don't mind?" Ginny asked with a purr. "It is called a Prefects' Meeting. It happens quite regularly, it is normally not questioned, it is most definitely not stopped, it is widely accepted, and it's blatant common knowledge." She stated, enjoying the various emotions fleeting across his features. "Now, I believe we were supposed to meet in compartment 32, am I right? Damascus, here, good kitty." Ginny scooped Damascus up into her arms and continued walking, leaving a slightly put-off, but altogether admiring Draco looking after her.
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"Prefect duties include nightly patrols. I understand that fifths years have O.W.L.s to prepare for so their patrols will be scheduled in moderation…" Ginny tried her hardest not to let her head fall through her hands. She was about to keel over from boredom. Prefects' meetings were among the most evil things in Ginny Land, things that ought to be punishable by law and be shut away in time capsules, buried deep beneath the earth… if only Ginny could get her hands on whoever invented the heinous theory behind Prefects' meetings, she would - . "Ginny!" She snapped awake. Hermione was glaring at her. Blinking innocently, she smiled sweetly for her. "What did I just say?"
"Well, darling Hermione, now that you've asked. I'd like to take this opportunity to reinforce your principles supporting the fact that we are indeed a fascist regime. No parties are to be allowed, deducting points is capital and the world coooowers at our feet."
"Ginny, you were appointed as a prefect because some better people believed you to be responsible. I'm sure you wouldn't like me to file a complaint on you on the first day." Now, that was utter uber anality if Ginny had ever encountered any. The fifth year prefects were looking at her expectantly. Well, how often was there a sixth year prefect sprawled on an entire bench herself, not even in robes, looking out the window while her tiger wreaked havoc on the tassels of the pillows, openly opposing The Hermione Granger.
"Well, that's unfortunate." She said, "I suppose it'll have to do then." She sighed, picking up Damascus reaching for the door of the compartment.
"Where do you think you're going?" Ginny pondered this for a second.
"Well, here's the thing Hermione, when a girl reaches a certain point in her life, normally around eleven or twelve years of age, her body goes through changes. Some of these changes make her need to visit the bathroom a lot once every month… Yes, it's all very new to you isn't it? No worries, my mother always told me that late bloomers make it up with… ah… brains."
From the corridor she could hear a sudden outburst of laughter which she'd later discover was largely Draco rolling around on the floor having convulsions. Ginny strolled down the corridor wondering where everyone had gone… normally it was crowded… hmm…
:FWUMP: Flour rained from the ceiling, balloons filled with water were tossed her way and she suddenly found herself stepping in a sticky mess of pitch. She heard a joint, "GINNERS!" before she was engulfed by a huge hulk of a thing…
Well, that hulk turned out to be Fred… and then George… and then Nico, Venice, and Jordan.
"George, Fred… what are you doing here!"
"Baby Ginners!"
"Baby sister!"
"Kisses and hugs!" Ginny stood there, tapping her toe, still covered in a white paste, expecting an answer. She was ecstatic to see her three best friends, but really… the sudden shower of cold water and flour? And the sudden appearance of graduated brothers? Graduated twin brothers? Were she epileptic, they'd be sorry. Spinning her around, her brothers marched her down the corridor away from her friends who were casually following them.
"We are, darling sister," George said in hushed tones.
"Your new…"
"professors!" George finished with a flourished bow.
"Of basket weaving?" she asked loudly.
"Well no, but we're going to explain that in just a tad…" Fred slung her over her shoulder and marched the rest of the way down the hallway… ah, that's where everyone went, she thought as multiple heads shot out of compartments to find what all the noise was about. The famous Weasley twins were back, and the harpy-woman whom they couldn't identify was being carted off… thank god for small miracles.
In the same compartment in front of which she found the scary first year girls, Fred deposited Ginny on a bench. She wondered how many times this was going to happen… her two oafs for brothers were grinning like idiots in front of her. Finally, seeing as no one was going to break the silence, she sighed.
"All right, what is going on?"
"Delighted you asked!" said Fred, pulling a long parchment out of his robes. "I think this should help clear things up."
"Fred, my dear man…"
"Don't flatter yourself, George. I'm Natalia's man."
"Yeah… because she's so not under the Imperius."
"Why George, I didn't know you were so logical!" Ginny rolled her eyes and focused on the scroll.
Mr and Mr Weasley,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are taking the first summer break since your graduation to appreciate the freedoms associated with your coming of age. (Ginny snorted… the entire wizarding population was aware Fred and George had been… "appreciating the freedoms" of free magic since waaaaaaay before coming of age) As you must be aware, the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts has once again become available.
"Defence? Isn't Professor Caelestis doing defence?"
"Read on baby Ginners."
We had previously considered Professor Caelestis for the position; however, due to externally assigned work, he has asked for assistance in his classes. I would like to extend the invitation for this post to you in confidence that you will set a good example for your students and lend energy to the subject.
Yours Truly,
Headmaster of Hogwarts,
Order of Merlin, First Class,
Albus Dumbledore
Ginny paused. There's the logic… stupid Arion had bitten off more than he could chew with the dual personalities pitch, and now he needed "assistance" in class. Fantastic. "Well then… Defence."
"Yes, mother's rather proud of us… Professors and all that."
"Such a dear, that woman."
"Well, Miss Weasley. We look forward to a productive and educational year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with you. For the time being, we must visit the prefects' cabin."
"Say, shouldn't you be there?" asked George. Ginny snorted.
"Well, seeing as Hermione threatened to toss me out of prefect position, I really didn't see a good reason to be there." Fred heartily patted her back.
"Good on you. Excellent example to the masses." Ginny rolled her eyes and let her brothers file out. Waiting outside the compartment door for her were her three darlings. Nico immediately sprung forward and gathered her in a huge hug.
"I. Have. Not. Seen. You. In. Ages.", squeezing her with each word. Wrestling to keep herself alive, Ginny giggled.
"Well, you've been dethroned from Mr. Best-Looking this year, dear Nico… I'm afraid an old foe is once again taking over the title."
"Oh, the Pepinot boy? Yes, he's out breaking hearts already."
"What!"
"Well, there's that girl who was weeping in the corridor…"
"Yeah, Nico tried to comfort her, and she told him that Pepinot had replaced him in her heart…"
"And subsequently broke it." Ginny stared wide-eyed at them.
"Well… I had meant to say Draco Malfoy; however… Have I ever told you guys how freaky it is when you finish each others' sentences?"
"Plenty darling, but we're rather fine with that."
"Yes, you'll succumb to the urge soon…" said Nico sceptically.
Needless to say, it was good to be with them again. That was true Hogwarts spirit right there. Her three best friends belong to some of the most ancient and pure blooded families. Venice was a laNoble… of the Noble family, her name spoke for itself. The Ciarniellos – Nico's family, were second to none and tied with the Zabinis for pure blood in Italy. And Jordan was from one of England's strongest and most influential lines, the Knights. All in all, it seemed rather natural for the youngest members of the purebloods to bind together. Ginny, half-Prewett herself and part of the Weasley legacy, fit in comfortably.
She didn't exactly have the various estates that the laNobles acquired throughout the centuries, or own half of wizarding Italy, but she did have a family that did her proud: two Head Boys, a Quidditich captain, two of the most successful entrepreneurs, and Ron. Ron was a special one and an underappreciated one at that. Contrary to popular belief, he was not in love with Hermione Granger, nor did Ginny believe that he'd fall in love with her anytime soon. Ron was the brother who stayed at home with her when neither of them attended Hogwarts. They played chess, wreaked havoc and made wonderful sport out of degnoming the gardens. Ron was also the one who wrote to her daily when he did go to Hogwarts. Apart from Bill, and the twins, Ginny had to say that Ron was very close to her heart. Speaking of the twins…
"So, guess who'll be teaching us DADA this year, hmm?"
"Hopefully someone better looking than Umbridge." Nico said, shuddering, "…far better looking."
"Well, I'll have you know that our new professors are very becoming fellows, and there are two of them, so it will be rather crowded." Ginny grinned. Nico sat back for the enws and Jordan started naming off potentials when –
"Oh god… the twins are teaching us aren't they?" whispered Venice, eyes wide. "YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES."
- Okay… Ginny wasn't expecting that.
"Say, Ginbean, is Fred quite single?" Venice asked with a tremendous smile, batting her excessively long eyelashes. Ginny blanched and smacked Venice over the head with her wand.
"No, and no, you are not going to date my brother…" she sputtered, "You'll probably end up having pink children, and then where would we be?"
Venice scowled. She was very blonde… in the… Draco-Malfoyesque-platinum-fine-silky-amaaaaaaazing blonde way. And, Fred had red hair… so yes, pink children would result from the union and Ginny shuddered at the idea.
Nico pondered the idea thoughtfully, "Well, I suppose it'd be a good thing, they're plenty of fun. Speaking of which, you know that manor that my gramps have up in Cinque Terra?"
"You mean that sprawling forty acre estate with a huge castle at the very top? Yes, we do." Ginny said, drawling… damn her overly wealthy friends.
"Well, my parents are packing me off to stay there for half of winter break and I definitely don't want to be trapped there with my cousins alone."
"Oh, the horrid ones? What was her name… Michaela? Oooooh." Venice nodded knowingly. Two summers ago, Jordan, Venice, Ginny and Nico had the misfortune of staying at Nico's summer estate in Gloucester with his cousins-from-Roma and had discovered that the younger one – Michaela, had a penchant for compulsively lying/cheating/stealing/hitting/kicking/pinching/various other horrible things, and were not exactly fond of her.
"What I don't understand is why she would find it necessary to take things when she knows perfectly well that she'd be caught eventually and that she could afford getting it herself." Jordan said, recounting a particularly poignant event that included an enchanted looking glass and a ten story drop into the pool in Nico's backyard.
"Well, there's the thrill of possibly getting caught, and it's a perfect way to prove herself." Said Ginny matter-of-factly. Her friends ogled her for a moment, "What! I used to take Percy's wand and stuff all the time… it was lots of fun."
"Well, in any case, it's quite brilliant up there, plenty of water. Would you like to come?"
"Yes."
"Mmm."
"Ginny?" Ginny smoothed down Damascus's fur and sighed.
"I don't know. I might have to go travelling with family. We're going to pay Charlie a visit." All right, it was a lie altogether. Her parents had mentioned seeing Charlie at some point… just not so soon. Ginny wasn't about to risk a development in the current situation back at Grimmauld Place or another visit to Lohengrin to gallivant in the Italian countryside… it would have been nice though.
"Well, if you ever do know, tell me?" Ginny nodded. "Anyway, I think we ought to change into our robes now, I don't want to have to carry them until we get there."
True, Hogwarts was still quite a ways off… the trolley hadn't even gotten to them yet. Nico took his robes out of the compartment to leave the girls some privacy. It was then, while reaching for her own robes, that Ginny was struck with a brilliant, if not risky, idea of her own. Wasn't this the perfect time to advertise her tattoo and see if anyone noticed? If anyone asked, she would say that it was a henna design. That would stifle any real concerns and word wouldn't get back to her brothers/professors/parents/entire population of the school.
Ginny pulled off her white tee and pranced around making a grand show of shaking out her collared school shirt, all the while, having her back facing Jordan and Venice. The other two didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary… In fact, they weren't looking at her at all, but fixated upon their own wardrobe. Annoyed, Ginny kicked her trunk hard and yelped, effectively gaining their attention.
"You know, Ginny, we really can't assess any damage if you aren't facing us." Jordan said flatly. So… they couldn't see the tattoo… or they weren't asking, damn it, Ginny had to know for sure.
"My back is smarting… Damascus scratched me earlier, is there anything on my back?"
"Well… not if you count… the lack of freckles… what on earth did you do, bleach your skin?" Ginny let out a breath. Well, at least it wasn't the tattoo.
"I didn't do anything to my back. I slept in the sun, played Quidditch and ate my mom's scones. Happy?"
"No." Venice announced. "I don't see why you can eat whatever you please, never do any real moving unless you count zipping around the sky on a broom – no real physical activity there, and come back from the summer with a perfect figure, and NO FRECKLES. Whatever happened to my gangly, spotted Ginbean… and no, there are no claw marks. It's like you have impenetrable skin." she said tragically. Ginny scowled – she had Lohengrin to blame for this one, she thought her freckles were cute, AND she liked her skin porcelain.
"Yes," she snapped, "well the sun will do that to you."
"I'm surprised you haven't burnt to a crisp." Stated Jordan, "I always thought that with your skin that you'd skip the tanning stage and move straight to tomato."
"Well, my apologies for acquiring a…" Ginny fought to categorize the shade of her skin. Was it tanned? No. Was it bronzed? No. It was porcelain anymore. "…and interesting shade of complexion!" she snapped, turning back to her trunk.
"You look like you're made of pixie dust."
"Excuse me?"
"Pixie dust… you know… shimmering, golden-ish. Because clearly, you're still… alabaster… you're just shiny."
"I'm what?"
"Sparkly is more like it.", countered Jordan. "Yes, that's what you are… you're sparkling… with gold sparkles."
Ginny stood in their pile of clothing regarding her two friends coolly… she was shiny, and sparkly and – The compartment door slid open and Nico strode in.
"Whoa! Sorry, I'll leave!" Nico said, snapping his eyes shut as he felt about for the door. Ginny turned bright red, looking down her not-yet-dressed self. She was standing there in her bra. Fantastic. Pulling on her school skirt and shirt, she opened the compartment door to let Nico in. He didn't seem at all flustered. It wasn't surprising, he was accustomed to having about a dozen girls fawn over him at the beach during summertime – what could Ginny say, Nicolas Ciarniello was a god. "You're shimmery." He observed.
"What!"
"No, look, your skin… it's shimmery." He said, ducking from her ever-swinging wand. "What! Stop trying to hit me."
Ginny's hair was everywhere, and her eyes were quite brilliant. This was not good. "In the past five minutes my skin has gone from alabaster to shiny to sparkly and now it's SHIMMERY?"
"Actually, I agree… it isn't sparkly. Sparkly would require actual bobbles… and you haven't got any… you're decidedly shimmery." proclaimed Venice, slipping into Oxford shoes. "And now, I'm hungry." She declared, bringing a swift end to the conversation.
Ginny assessed what she'd learned… of course, she'd learned at her freckles had disappeared, she learned that her skin was alabaster/shiny/sparkly/shimmery, but most importantly, she'd learned that her friends couldn't see her tattoo… which made it very plausible that no one else could either… hmm…
Happy with this latest observation, Ginny followed her troupe out of the compartment to find the trolley lady. This was good. This was very good.