HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
CHAPTER 15: Ginny's Day (Pt 2)
2 September 1:10 p.m.
(The First Afternoon)
By the end of lunch, Ginny was feeling better, though what happened at breakfast still left her feeling somewhat upset. On the bright side, her first class – Transfiguration – went relatively well, though she didn't earn any points for Slytherin and McGonagall kept giving her odd looks. Harry had recommended that she put together a study group and that she not limit herself to Slytherins, so she and Luna had made plans to meet up on Friday after lunch, along with Astoria (who insisted on being called Tori whenever her sister wasn't around) and Colin. Harry had also told her that it was okay to be on a first name basis with members of other Houses and especially Gryffindors who usually avoided traditional Pureblood social conventions anyway. As she and Astoria were leaving the Great Hall, Ginny was surprised when they were intercepted by none other than Percy Weasley, who stepped in front of them both and bowed respectfully.
"Good afternoon, Miss Greengrass. I am Percival Weasley, scion of the House of Weasley. I wonder if I might borrow my sister Ginevra for a moment to discuss some family matters."
Ginny's eyes widened in surprise at Percy's unusually formal speech. She was certain he'd never called her Ginevra in her entire life. For her part, Tori just seemed amused.
"Sure thing. Ginny, I'll see you later." Then, she walked away humming a Weird Sisters tune. Ginny folded her arms and looked at her brother doubtfully.
"Ginevra?" she asked in amusement. "Are we going to be all formal now, Percival?"
The older boy blushed. "Sorry. My understanding was that Slytherins frowned on nicknames. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of one of your peers. And yet somehow, I seem to have done so anyway."
"It's alright, Percy. Astoria isn't your typical Slytherin. Although increasingly, I'm not sure what the 'typical Slytherin' actually is. So, what's up?"
He looked around. "Let's take this somewhere more private." With that, he led her to a nearby empty classroom, ironically the same one George had taken her into that morning. Once inside, he put up a privacy spell. "So, how has your first day been going? I know it must have been traumatic for you. First the Sorting last night and then the Howler this morning."
"The Howler didn't bother me, Percy," she interrupted.
He sighed. "I could see your face, Ginny. I think that Howler bothered you a lot more than you let on."
She shrugged. "What happened, happened. There's no sense brooding over it. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a brooder." She hesitated. "So, how do you feel about me being a Slytherin?"
"I won't deny that I worry about you. You're sharing a dorm with a whole lot of people who think you're a blood traitor, and as I understand it, you're sharing a room with at least one person who may hold a deep personal grudge against our family. That said, I trust the Sorting Hat. If it wanted you in Slytherin and you were brave enough to follow its advice, then I truly believe it will all turn out for the best, no matter what anyone else thinks."
She studied her brother for a long moment. "The Hat offered you Slytherin too, didn't it?"
He chuckled. "Actually, the Hat offered me my choice of Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor in that order." Then, his expression changed to one of wistful sadness. "It also said I wasn't Hufflepuff material. At the time, I was so ignorant and arrogant that I considered that to be a compliment. Anyway, it told me that I would be happiest in Ravenclaw or most successful in Slytherin, but despite all that, I would probably insist on Gryffindor. It actually sounded annoyed with me even as it told me that. But even though it felt wrong, I couldn't bear the thought of being the first non-Gryffindor Weasley in living memory. Even at eleven, I already felt too much ..."
He stopped abruptly, looked away and started scratching at the back of his head, unwilling to finish that sentence. It didn't matter, because Ginny knew perfectly well how it would have ended: like an outsider.
"Percy, Mum and Dad love you. So do I. So do all your brothers, even though they're sometimes prats who don't know how to show it very well."
He smiled at her affectionately. "Oh, I know that, Ginny, luv. Everyone in my family loves me, and I love you and all of them. I know all that. It's just ... I've come to realize that it's possible for someone to love you but still not ... like you very much."
She stepped forward and hugged the older boy. "Oh Percy. I like you. Merlin knows you make it hard sometimes, but I like you."
He closed his eyes and hugged her back. "I like you too ... Ginevra." They both laughed.
2 September 1992, 7:45 a.m.
(The First Morning)
Ginny slid into a spot at the breakfast table next to Harry who welcomed her with a cheerful "Good morning, Miss Weasley!" She rolled her eyes.
"And what a lovely morning it is, Mr. Potter. Pass the bacon please."
He complied. "So how was your first night? Did Daphne get you squared away?"
"Yes, the elder Greengrass was most informative, and neither Miss Wilkes nor Miss Crabbe attempted to murder me in my sleep."
"Good to know. And nice job there – just the right amount of sarcasm in your reply. Keep it up and you'll be calling me Harry in no time."
"You presume, Mr. Potter, that by then I'll be inclined to invite you to call me Ginny," she said in her best effort at stuck-up condescension, but he laughed nonetheless.
"Well played. Now, our next step is to maneuver you into a position of strength within your year. I'm confident you'll be able to outfly all the boys, but flying lessons won't start for a while yet, so you'll need to find a way to show off before then. Are you caught up on all your reading?"
"Yes, mother," she said irritably.
"Hey, I'm doing all this for your benefit, Miss Weasley, so don't get sassy with me!" Harry said in a sharp voice, though his smile made it clear he was more amused than angry. "Draco Malfoy is one of the most important opinion makers in our whole House despite his youth, and we need to get you into a position where you can stand up to him on your own merits. Incidentally, do you know why the Malfoys and the Weasleys hate one another?"
"Because they're disgusting bigoted ponces with ridiculous hair?" she replied in complete seriousness.
"Ooookay, looks like it affects the female Weasleys too. Good to know. But never mind that now. How's your family reacting to all this?"
"Well, I just had an ... informative talk with George, and I think we're okay. I'll try to talk with the rest of the boys later today and then send a letter to Mum and Dad this afternoon, I guess. Hopefully, they'll take it well." She looked up then and went pale. "Or maybe I'm about to find out how they took it right now."
Harry followed her gaze and saw a somewhat bedraggled owl fly flying around the Great Hall with a Howler in its claws. He frowned – he'd expected better of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Okay, this can actually be a good thing. If you can bear up under a Howler and show it doesn't mean anything to you, you can get a lot of respect ... from ... your..."
Harry trailed off in surprise when he realized that the owl was now circling back away from the Slytherin table and towards the Gryffindors. The owl swooped in for a landing and dropped off the Howler right in front Ron Weasley. The boy stared at the Howler for several seconds as his House-mates urged him to open it quickly before it exploded. He looked up to stare at Ginny from all the way across the room with an expression of ... betrayal? Then, he sighed loudly and opened the Howler.
RONALD BILIOUS WEASLEY!
HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOU'RE LUCKY YOU WEREN'T ARRESTED OR KILLED! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE CAME OUT AND FOUND THE CAR MISSING?! YOU AND JIM COULD HAVE DIED! I JUST THANK GOODNESS THAT HARRY HAD ENOUGH SENSE TO LET SOMEONE KNOW WHAT YOU'D DONE OR ELSE YOUR FATHER MIGHT BE FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT WOULD BE ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!
AND ANOTHER THING! DON'T YOU DARE SAY ONE UNKIND THING ABOUT YOUR SISTER'S SORTING! I WOULD NEVER HOLD IT AGAINST ANY OF MY CHILDREN NO MATTER WHERE THEY'RE SORTED, AND I WON'T STAND FOR YOU OR ANY OF THE OTHER BOYS TREATING HER ANY DIFFERENTLY AS A RESULT!
YOUR FURIOUS MOTHER
MOLLY WEASLEY
With that, the Howler blew a loud raspberry towards Ron before disintegrating. There was laughter from all across the Great Hall, including from the Twins until Percy angrily hissed at them to shut up. Draco and his cronies were particularly amused, though Harry did not laugh and was, in fact, quite embarrassed for the boy. His own reaction to James Potter's Howler from the year before helped make his reputation in Slytherin House, but he also had the advantage of not actually giving a damn about his father's opinion. He suspected that Ron cared much more deeply about what Molly thought of him.
To his credit, Ron didn't cry, but he did stand, pick up his bag, and calmly walk out of the Great Hall, ignoring Jim, Hermione and his three brothers as he left. At the door, however, he stopped and looked back at Ginny. Suddenly, she felt cold inside. She'd never seen Ron look at her like that before, and while she wasn't sure she could describe what she saw in his expression, it felt to her as though something important inside Ron had just died. She tried to find Ron later to talk about it, but never got to.
Not until that night.
2 September 1992, 5:15 p.m.
(Late Afternoon on the First Day)
"Psst! Ginny!" Fred loudly whispered to her from down a corridor. The girl shook her head. It was amazing to think that all of her brothers apparently wanted to talk to her one at a time in private.
"Thank Merlin that Bill and Charlie have already graduated," she thought to herself. "Or I'd never have time to do homework!"
Obediently, she followed the elder twin down the side corridor, but instead of the same empty classroom that George and Percy had used, he took her to a large broom closet. Once inside, he set up even more privacy charms over the door than Percy had used and turned to speak to her, but even though his mouth was open, nothing came out. Ginny was surprised. She'd never seen either of the Twins rendered speechless, but of the two, she'd have expected it more out of George than Fred, George being more of soft-spoken of the duo.
"Let me guess," she asked jokingly in an effort to lighten the mood, "you're going to tell me that the Hat offered you Slytherin but you insisted on Gryffindor."
Fred's face drained of all color. "How do you know about that?! Did the Hat talk about me?!"
"Fred, calm down!" she said. "It was just a joke. The Hat didn't say anything about you."
"Well what did it say about you, then? What did it tell you to get you to agree to Slytherin?" Ginny was starting to become alarmed. She'd truly never seen Fred this agitated.
"The Hat didn't really tell me anything or even give me much of a choice. It asked me some questions to get me to admit that I didn't want to just follow in the footsteps of other people and that I didn't like feeling overprotected by my older brothers." She hesitated. "It also asked me if I wanted to actually be brave or just be satisfied with other people assuming I was." She winced at the look on his face. After her prior conversations with George and Percy, she was coming to realize just how troubling it was for people actually Sorted into Gryffindor to hear the Hat suggest that someone really brave might need to be Sorted somewhere else.
There was a long silence before Fred spoke again. "Ginny? Am I ... mean?"
She was surprised by the question, and Fred became still more upset when her surprise turned into a hesitation that lasted longer than she'd meant it to.
"I wouldn't say you're mean, Fred. I know that you're more aggressive in your pranking than George and that he has to hold you back sometimes. But you have a good heart and don't intentionally hurt people. Now sometimes, with some people, maybe you take it too far, perhaps? I know Ron's still upset over that whole spider thing, and I probably would be too if you'd done that to me..."
At that, Fred barked out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Then, he rubbed his eyes.
"Fred, what's going on?" Ginny asked. "What's this all about?"
"It's been, um, suggested to me ... and to George too, I guess ... that we're a couple of ... cruel bullies. I've never thought of it that way, but now..." He looked down at the floor. "When I was Sorted, the Hat did want to put me in Slytherin. It said I was clever and cunning but also likeable in a way that Slytherin needed among its House-members. But it also said that ... that ruthlessness was a Slytherin trait and that I had that too. And that Slytherin House would help me to harness that and use it constructively, whereas Gryffindor would just ... let it run wild."
He looked up at her nearly in tears, as unhappy as she'd ever seen on him.
"And, Ginny, I really think it has."
2 September 1992, 1:45 p.m.
(The Afternoon of the First Day)
Ron Weasley was sitting by himself under a tree next to the Black Lake copying some passages from his Transfiguration text into his notebook when the Twins found him.
"Hello, Ickle Ronnikins!" "We'd like to have a little chat, if you have a second." "Or even if you don't." "It's about our Ickle Ginny-poo's Sorting." "And how you'd best act in response to it."
"Really?" said Ron glancing up before returning to his notes. "I was pretty sure Mum's Howler covered everything, but if you feel you need to add some more threats, have at it."
"Oooh, have at it, he says, Fred." "Why George! That's practically an invitation to get graphic with what we might do if our Ronnikins says or does anything to hurt Ginny's feelings!"
"Oh, I think I have a good idea of what all you can do to me. I've only lived with you my whole life." He paused and looked up again with a puzzled expression. "I am curious though. If I'd been Sorted into Slytherin this time last year, would you two be out confronting Percy and the rest of the family and threatening them into not saying anything to hurt my feelings? Or would you have already flooded the Slytherin dungeons with spiders?"
"Awww! Is Ickle Ronnikins still mad over woozing his widdle teddy bear?" said Fred. For his part, though, George suddenly seemed uncomfortable.
Ron turned his attention back to his notebook and Transfiguration homework. "Yes, Fred," he spoke with a bitterness that surprised his brothers. "Yes, I am. Because I was three, and that bear was literally the only toy I remember having at that age, and that spider you Transfigured it into was nearly half my size. Though for what it's worth, I'm also still mad over that time you burned a hole in my tongue. And laughed at me while I was crying."
The Twins looked at one another, suddenly abashed. "Ron..." George began.
"I tell you what," Ron interrupted without even looking up from his writing. "Why don't we just cut to the chase? I'll swear you an Unbreakable Vow. Just like the one you nearly got me to swear when I was five. I'll take a vow to never say or do anything that hurts Ginny's feelings. And if I break it, I'll just die. Would that satisfy you two?"
"Look, Ron," George started again. "We're sorry. Both of us. We didn't mean to scare you with the spider or make fun of you or hurt you. We were just ... having a laugh."
"Guys," said Ron with surprising calm as he looked up at the Twins once more, "it's okay. Like I said, I've been dealing with this pretty much my whole life. I've gotten used to it. And honestly, it's a good thing I'm around. Because without me, you'd have probably devoted 100% of your energy on poor old Percy." Then, he suddenly fixed Fred with an icy glare. "I imagine you'd have driven him to suicide by now."
George was dumbstruck at that, while Fred went completely pale. Neither Twin said anything in response. After a few seconds, Ron turned back to his notebook and resumed writing.
"Now, if there's nothing else, I have Transfiguration in about ten minutes, and I really need to finish copying down these notes. Unless either of you wants to, I don't know, set my robes on fire or maybe turn my Transfiguration book into a giant tarantula or something. You know – for a laugh."
2 September 1992, 10:30 p.m.
(The End of the First Day)
Ginny stared at her reflection in the mirror and then bent over to splash some water on her face. When she was Sorted into Slytherin, she'd been worried about drama with her family, but she never imagined the form it would take. If anything, her Sorting seemed to have strengthened her bonds with three of her brothers but may have irrevocably damaged her relationship with a fourth. And worst of all, she didn't think there was anyone in her family she could talk to about it because, after the Howler, telling anyone how upset she was would probably make things worse. She was slightly horrified to realize just how much latent angst there was in the Weasley family now that her Sorting had ripped the bandages off and exposed wounds that she'd never realized existed.
As she straightened up and looked back into the mirror, she was startled to see the wan reflection of Amaryllis Wilkes standing behind her. She didn't quite scream but did let out a somewhat embarrassing squawk. The Wilkes girl merely rolled her eyes as Ginny turned around to look at her.
"Okay, Weasley. It's been just one day and I'm already tired of you jumping whenever I get near you, so let's get something straight: I'm not here to kill you."
"Well," swallowed Ginny, "that's ... nice."
"I'm not here to hurt you or harass you or do anything else to take revenge on you. My mother and father are dead, and your father is arguably responsible. But I never knew my mother and father, and from what I've learned, they were both awful, horrible people who deserved what they got. Also, the Wilkeses are a patrilineal family, and girls like me can't even become heirs. If my parents had lived, I might have been raised as a spoiled Pureblood princess until I was old enough to be married off to some Death Eater or I might have just been sacrificed as part of some disgusting blood ritual for glory of the Dark Lord. Who knows, am I right?"
Ginny nodded slowly. "Who indeed."
"So, long story short, I really don't care that you're Arthur Weasley's daughter. I mean, I am pretty much certain to get treated like a junior Death Eater no matter what I say or do. So if other people start picking on you for being a blood traitor or whatever, I'll probably go along with it to preserve what little social standing I have, but it won't be anything personal. Are we clear?"
"Crystal clear... Wilkes."
"Good." Amaryllis turned and headed out of the bathroom before stopping to look back at Ginny. "Unless, of course, all that stuff I just said was an elaborate bluff to lull you into a false sense of security until I take brutal revenge on you for the deaths of my parents. I mean, we are Slytherins, after all."
Ginny just stared at the other girl.
"That was a joke, Weasley."
"Of course it was, Wilkes. The only reason I'm not laughing is my natural Slytherin poise."
Amaryllis snorted and left the bathroom. Ginny slowly exhaled and shook her head.
"The funny thing is," she said to herself, "after all that, I still think I have a better rapport with Erasmus Wilkes's daughter than I do with Ron!"
2 September 1992, 9:40 p.m.
(Not Quite the End of the First Day)
Ginny finally found Ron in the Library of all places. If she'd been asked before, she'd have guessed that he didn't even know where the Library was, but there he was at a small table in the back near the stacks where Defense books were located. He had what looked like some upper-level DADA texts open and he was copying information into his notebook.
She coughed and spoke softly. "Hello, Ron."
He looked up at her. He didn't seem angry but neither did he seem pleased to see her. "Hey. Do you want me to call you Ginny or Ginevra? I've heard different stories."
"Ginny is fine, Ron."
He started packing away his notebook and pens and clearing away his workspace. "I assume you want to talk and won't take no for an answer. It'll have to be quick, though. I need to put these books back and then get back to the Tower before curfew."
With that, he flung his book bag over his shoulder and then picked up his stack of books to return to the shelves. Ginny followed behind him.
"Ron, I'm sorry about what happened at breakfast ... with the Howler and all that."
"Did you tell Mum to send me a Howler?" he asked in apparent seriousness.
"No! Of course not!"
"Well then, I don't see what you need to feel sorry about. That was Mum's decision, not yours."
"That's not the point, Ron. I mean, she shouldn't have done that."
He shrugged. "People do what they want to do, and the people they hurt just have to deal with it. That's just how things are. I only wish I'd handled it as well as your friend Harry did when he got one last year. He just laughed and laughed. People are still talking about that. I wasn't as strong as he was, but I didn't cry or anything, so that's got to count for something, right?"
"I suppose so," she said uncertainly, having no idea where Ron was going with this.
"But anyway. You wanted to talk to me. So talk."
She hesitated and then decided to get the most provocative question out of the way. "Ron, when you were Sorted, by any chance did the Hat offer you Slytherin?"
Just for a second Ron looked offended before he got hold of himself. "No, no it didn't. It did offer me Hufflepuff, where I would be surrounded by people who were loyal to me and who would like me for being me and who would never take advantage of me, but at the time, I was too dumb to see the value in all that. Stupid of me, really."
"Do ... do you think I betrayed you somehow by going into Slytherin?" Ginny asked nervously.
"Well, Ginny, I'm not sure I can answer a question like that. See, as you might recall, that Howler from Mum this morning was pretty clear that I was not to say a single unkind thing about your Sorting. You wouldn't want me to get into trouble again, would you?" He finally smiled, but for some reason, Ginny wasn't reassured by it.
"Ron, right now, you can say whatever you want to say to me about my Sorting or anything else, and I promise I won't tell anyone. I just want to clear the air. I love you and I miss you. So please, tell me what you're feeling right now."
He hesitated. "You promise?"
"I give you my word, sister to brother."
For some reason, that amused Ron. "Okay, about your Sorting: At first, I was upset, but not at you. Honestly, I blamed Harry. I thought he'd come in with his good looks and all his money and all his magical power and training and all his smart ass charm, and he'd just turned your head and that was why you went into Slytherin."
He finished replacing the Defense books and then leaned an arm on the shelf. "But then, this morning, I got that Howler from Mum, and suddenly, I understood. After that, it didn't matter how or why you went into Slytherin. Because I finally understood who I was and who you were and what our places were in the Weasley family."
Ginny shook her head. "Ron, you're not making any sense. What did you suddenly understand about us?"
His face became serious, more so than Ginny had ever seen it. "Do you remember your seventh birthday, Ginny? The one where Mum and Dad got you that big cake custom-decorated with magic frosting to look like Jim Potter riding around on a dragon and waving at you? The one with all those balloons and presents from each of your brothers, even though Mum and Dad bought them all and just stuck our names on them?"
She stiffened and narrowed her eyes. "I remember it. Please tell me you're not jealous that I had a bigger party than you that year, Ron."
He laughed. "Your party every year has been bigger than all of your brothers put together, Ginny, but that's not the point. See, what you probably don't remember is that your birthday that year happened to fall on the exact same day that the Hogwarts supply letters came. That morning, Bill got a letter from Hogwarts that had his Head Boy pin in it. And Charlie got another one letting him know that he was the Fifth Year prefect and the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. And Dad clapped them on the back and Mum kissed them on the cheek, and then both Mum and Dad went right back to getting ready for your birthday party and never mentioned it again. No big announcement to the rest of the family. No presents for them. Nothing that might distract from your big day. I only know about it because I happened to be there to see it, but being just an eight-year-old, I didn't understand what I'd seen at the time. Not until today when I got that Howler. But looking back on it, I think – in fact, I'd bet my last galleon – that your seventh birthday was the exact day that Bill and Charlie both decided to change their career plans. Before that, Bill was talking about getting a Ministry job and Charlie wanted to play professional Quidditch here in Britain. Instead, they both got jobs that required them to move over 2,000 miles away. Funny that, don't you think?"
Ginny stared at her brother uncomfortably. Looking back, she realized the timing was right for what he said, but she certainly didn't remember either Mum or Dad making a fuss over Bill and Charlie's extraordinary news. Surely they didn't snub their two oldest boys just for her seventh birthday party, did they? More importantly, surely that snub didn't incense Bill and Charlie so much that they decided to leave the country to get away from their family!
"Anyway, forget about your seventh birthday. Here's a more obscure birthday for you. After I lost my appetite at breakfast this morning, I suddenly took an interest in genealogy and spent some time here in the Library researching. 9 September 1769. You know what that date is?" She shook her head in confusion. "That was the birth date of Ludmilla Weasley, the last daughter born to the Weasley line ... until you. Over 200 years without any girls born into the family ... until you. But as I was looking that up, I noticed something else that was interesting. In all that time, no generation of Weasleys before ours has ever had more than four children and most only had one or two, but Mum and Dad had seven. Ha! Seven children on a Ministry bureaucrat's salary! Now, the way I see it, either seven is the number that breaks whatever curse we're under and allows for a daughter – seven being the most powerful magic number and all that guff – or else Mum and Dad just kept trying until they got the daughter they wanted, in which case we're lucky you finally came in at number seven or they'd have had to start dropping the spare boys off at the nearest orphanage."
"Stop it, Ron!" exclaimed Ginny who was becoming angry.
"Hey now! There's no reason for you to be the one getting angry. I mean, you're the winner here, not me." He smirked. "Bill was the perfect son. Charlie was almost the perfect son. Percy's a little bit prickly, but he still got twelve OWLS. The Twins are smart even if they don't apply themselves, and besides, everyone loooves them because they're just so damned CLEVER and FUNNY!" As Ron described the Twins, his smirk turned into a sneer as his voice grew louder and harsher. A fleck of spittle shot out of his mouth, and Ginny instinctively took a step back. Suddenly, she was no longer angry but frightened, both of her brother and for him. Ron paused to take a deep breath and then slowly exhale. Then, he spoke calmly but no less bitterly.
"But me? I've got next to nothing. I'm pretty good at chess. I suppose I'd do great at a pie-eating contest or something like that. Oh, and I'm best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived. I do have that going for me. So yeah, when Jim said we were in danger at Kings Cross and asked if I had any ideas for getting away and escaping to Hogwarts, I suggested the Anglia. Now maybe that was a good idea, or maybe it wasn't. But the fact remains – I was the one who tried to help protect the Boy-Who-Lived while you were the one who joined the House of Death Eaters. And yet somehow, I'm the one who got a Howler in front of the whole school. And that's when I realized. There is nothing that you could do that would cause you to lose our parents' affection. And there is nothing that I can do to win their respect, because coming in at Son #6, I'm nothing but one of the spares they had to pop out on the road to you. I mean, Head Boy, Quidditch Captain and 12 OWLS wasn't enough, so what chance do I have?"
Ron picked up his book bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Congratulations on your Sorting, Ginny," he said as he passed by her on his way out. "I'm sure you'll do our parents proud. Daddy's Little Death Eater and all that."
With that last remark, Ron left Ginny behind. As she walked back to the dungeons alone, the girl briefly wondered whether her now being a Slytherin was the reason she wasn't crying.
The next chapter will be uploaded on Friday, October 16, 2015. "Lockhart's Little Quiz" - Pretty much what it says on the tin. PLUS: Flint! Snape! And Cornish Pixies!
AN: Re Molly's Howler. Admittedly, Molly's use of a Howler on Ron in canon doesn't reflect well on her. However, there are two things to remember about it. One, Howler's are apparently commonplace in the wizarding world. As embarrassing as Ron's Howler was, no one in canon thought it was even slightly unusual for Ron to get one after what he'd done. Even Neville stated that Augusta had sent him one in the past, presumably for less egregious offenses than grand theft auto. This appears in canon to be just one of the quirky things about the wizarding world that differentiates it from the Muggle world.
Second, people tend to forget this, but Molly was completely justified in being furious with Ron! Imagine that you had a twelve-year-old son who missed the bus on the first day of school ... and his response was to steal the family car and try to drive himself to school! Imagine further that he took with him as a passenger the most famous and well-known twelve-year-old in the world (Malia Obama, perhaps, or Prince William when he was that age). Imagine that he totaled it upon arriving at school! Imagine that the car had been tricked out with modifications that weren't street legal by your spouse ... who holds a position equivalent to Chairman of the National Automotive Safety Administration and who would become mired in scandal if the government found out all the details about the car's modifications. Honestly, in my head-canon for that scene, Molly was really angry first about how Ron had done something reckless and dangerous and second about the Inquiry at the Ministry, because due to Ron's thoughtless actions, Arthur was genuinely in danger of losing his job or possibly being sent to Azkaban for violating the very laws that he was supposed to be enforcing.
That doesn't mean that Molly's Howler isn't a bad thing - parents should try to avoid humiliating their children in public no matter how foolishly the child acted. But the canon, IMO, does not support the idea that Molly sends out hysterical Howlers every time she gets mad over some little thing. And it certainly doesn't support the (again IMO) bizarre reading of the character that treats Molly as some sort of hideous she-beast who spends all her time shrieking and ranting and more often than not who's been plotting since her first appearance to marry Ginny off to Harry so she can steal his fortune. I see that all the time in fan fiction, and to me it makes about as much sense as Argus Filch secretly being the Dark Lord.