Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue me and take away my minimal amounts of money.
(AU) Okay, well, I can already tell this chapter is going to take a while for me to get right, and I haven't even started writing it yet. Well, the thing is you see, I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. Usually I have some vague idea what the ending will be, but I'm drawing a blank. So, be patient with me all right? Also, in the way of grmmar, I'm not the best. So don't let it distract you too much if you find a typo. Let me know if you do, and I'll try and find some time to correct it. Knowing me you'll probably find several. We'll see what I can do!
Chapter 2: Mr. Sunshine
I walked quietly up the stairs to my room. Everything was a mess. Harry had locked himself away in his room, and everyone was arguing all the time. Fleur had burst into hysterical tears after a while, and Bill had to take her home. I was personally disgusted with her lack of control, but most of the guys seemed to find it endearing. Hey, whatever floats your boat. Anyway, the twins are going back to their flat tomorrow, and Charlie is leaving as well. Nobody really wants to be around Malfoy. The last thing any one really needed was to be reminded of the war, and Malfoy was living evidence that it had happened. I crept past his room, my entire body tensing as the floor creaked under me. I had a sudden image of Malfoy pressed against the other side of the door, waiting for me to walk by so he could burst out and hex me to hell and back. I ran the rest of the way to my room. Once in my own familiar room, with it's pale green walls and squashy cramp bed I felt a little bit safer. Leaving my door wide open I sighed loudly and changed out of my jeans and into my makeshift pyjamas. Nobody ever came up to this floor except for me, so I wasn't worried about anyone peeking in to watch me change. It didn't seem likely Malfoy would be coming out of his room either. My pyjamas consisted of an overgrown purple T-shirt, and little cotton shorts with pictures of froggies printed on them. They were grinning up at me stupidly and I frowned at them. Nothing had gone right today, I just wanted to fall asleep and forget all about it. But I knew I wouldn't be able to forget it. It was just another horrible memory to add to my steadily growing collection.
It was quiet, and the sun was setting, sending scarlet and gold streaks across the sky.
I collapsed into my feathery soft bed and felt the blankets and pillows mould to my shape. I pressed my back up against the wall, and tucked my wand securely under my pillow. As tired as I was, I fought sleep. It was the same thing every night. I tucked myself into my warm comfy bed, setting myself up for the inevitable nightmares that I knew would plague me the moment I shut my eyes. Monsters of the past creeping through my thoughts, terrifying me again and again until I felt I would go mad. My eyes fluttered closed and I struggled to open them again, but as fatigue settled around me, I knew it was no use. I fell into the familiar dream of being locked in a dingy cell. Fear corrupted my soul and I crouched in the corner, shaking in terror. Tears streamed from my eyes and I wanted to scream. But as each flash of green light got brighter, I knew drawing attention to myself was not the best thing to do. I wished desperately for some one, anyone, to take me away. Anywhere, anywhere that wasn't here. Not here. Where was my family? They were probably all dead…he would have killed them all…dead. Crouched on the dirty ground, I struggled to keep absolutely silent-
"Ginny?" The voice was like a jolt of electricity; I sprang from sleep and ripped my wand from under my pillow. The daylight streamed into my eyes, temporarily blinding me and throwing off my aim.
"Ginny! Relax, it's just me." I blinked thickly against the blaring sunlight at Hermione, looking at me with concern. What was she doing in my room? Every one knows better than to wake me up when I'm sleeping. Ever since last month when I blew accidentally Bill's ear off, everyone knows to let me get up on my own.
"Hermione?" I asked, my voice still hoarse with sleep. She peered down at me with concern. I felt slightly awkward sitting there while she stared at me.
"You're still having nightmare's then?" She asked. I rubbed my eyes with the bottoms of my palms, my wand still clutched in my hand.
"Yeah." I said, and I pushed back my sheets, swinging my feet onto the cold floor. The cool wood shocked the soles of my feet, and I felt around under my bed for my slippers. "What time is it?"
"Around nine." Hermione answered, "Your mother sent me up here to get you." I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Why?" Hermione shrugged. "She didn't say, she just said, 'Go wake Ginny.' No one would go, you know, after the incident with Bill, so I had to come." I couldn't help but grin at that. I don't know if you've noticed yet, but I have a bit of a superiority complex.
"You should have just knocked." I said, stretching. I padded over to my desk. It was painted an off white colour with fairies and over grown mushrooms skilfully crafted into it. It was scattered with my school things and my diary, along with a few other trinkets. I pulled out a hair tie hiding under a lose sheet of paper and tied my hair back, successfully passing my bed head off for an acceptable hair style.
"I did. Twice." Hermione said, turning and making her way down the stairs. I followed her, straightening my big t-shirt so it wasn't so twisted. We entered the kitchen to find two trunks dumped haphazardly in front of the stairs. Fred was sitting in one of the straight-backed kitchen chairs with his traveling cloak on. He had his feet cross up on the table and the chair was leaning precariously on its two back legs.
"Morning brat." He greeted me, and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Mom was busy at the stove, cooking something that smelled like heaven. She turned to me.
"Oh good you're up!" She said, positively beaming. I snorted. Of course I was up, she had just sent Hermione to wake me. "Dear I need you to-" She was cut off when George burst in, followed by Ron, who was looking furious, and Harry, who seemed slightly amused. George was floating a bundle of letters just out of Ron's reach, laughing and his brother's measly attempts at retrieving it.
"Give it to me!" Ron snapped. George just smirked.
"Ask nice Ronnikins." He teaunted, flicking his wand and the letters danced higher. Ron waved his own wand, but the spell missed. Finaly, Ron just jammed his wand into George's stomach and caught the letters as they fell. Hermione giggled and Fred burst out laughing, falling backwards as the chair finally tipped over.
"Boys!" Mum snapped at them. "I thought I had raised you better than this!" She looked livid. At that moment, I didn't envy Ron too much, as George was double over, giving him the death glare, and Mum seemed to by trying to incinerate him with her gaze. He didn't seemed perturbed though, he had found his letter and was ripping it open. He tossed the rest onto the table carelessly, and the corners of them landed in oatmeal. I picked up the letters and gently shook them off, pulling mine out from in between Harry and Hermione's. It had the Hogwarts crest on it, and our address. I tossed Malfoy's back on the table and ripped my own envelope open and pulled out the letter.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRYHeadmistress: Minerva McGonagall
(Order of Merlin 2nd class, Registered Animagus, International Quidditch Supervisor, Ten year Administrator for Curious Conditions)
Dear Miss Ginevra Weasely,
We are pleased to hear of your decision to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment. Term begins 1 September; we await your owl no later than 31 July.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva Mcgonagall
Headmistress
Well, it was official, Hogwarts was open for business. I glanced around at everyone reading his or her letters; Fred had gotten up off the floor to read over Harry's shoulder. They all had ditzy grins on their faces. Our yearly letters were just another step back to normalcy. I wasn't really surprised that McGonagall was the new Headmistress. I couldn't think of too many people better suited for they job. Of course, no one would ever be as great as Dumbledore, but hey, at least it wasn't Snape…or that foul Umbridge woman.
"It seems like it's been forever since I've opened a Hogwarts letter." Harry said quietly, staring down at the oatmeal stained parchment as if it was a long lost friend. Ron nodded in agreement, and it hit me then, how oddly silent the kitchen was.
"It feels like we are going home." Hermione whispered, and I was astonished to see here eyes filled with tears. George sighed and slapped Ron unnecessarily hard on the back. He laughted mercylessly, enjoying his revenge to the full extent when Ron yelped in pain.
"Oh yes, sweet childhood memories." Ron glared at him, making a rather pathetic attempt to rub his back were George had hit him.
"Oh yes, because you're so grown up." He said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Fred sniggered and George feigned offense.
"You wound me little brother. Like a knife in the heart." George pouted, throwing a hand dramatically to his chest. I laughed lightly and sat down as Mum started to put food on the table. There were pancakes with butter and maple syrup (the real kind, not the process crap) waffles with strawberry jam, ham and bacon with friend eggs. Sausages and hash browns crowded everyone's plate and before long every one was digging in. Except for Dad, who had to go to work early, as usual. I loved it when Harry came over in the summer, because it inspired Mum to make fantastic breakfasts. It was like an all you can eat buffet in my kitchen. I glanced over at Harry. He seemed to be in a good mood again. He was talking very animatedly to Ron about Quidditch, and piled his plate high. The arrival of the letters had launched every one into friendly chatter, and it was a bit of a shock when Fred and George stood up.
"Well, we have to be heading out." The both said in unison. "See you Mum." They each bent down to kiss each side of her cheek. She suddenly looked distressed.
"You're leaving?" She asked. I stood up too.
"I thought you were staying until later." I exclaimed. It wasn't until after I said it that I realsied how pathetic I had sounded. They both grinned their stupid crooked grins, and I felt the need to smack them both.
"We didn't know you would miss us so much kid." They both said at once, walking over and ruffling my hair. I glared at them. It wasn't that I was going to miss them, it was that with out them here to keep Mum occupied, she would start to blame everything on me. She was like that. When Bill is here, she starts arguments with him about his hair and ear ring, when the twins are here, she simply blames everything on them (with good reason though, as they are usually the criminal minds behind ever household mishap.) But, once they are gone, everything is automatically MY fault. I have no idea why, but my mother either finds me too loud, or too quiet, too busy, or too lazy. She always finds something to complain about me. Don't get me wrong, I love the woman dearly, but she does grate on one's nerves. Of course, when I was sitting in that dark lonely cell for weeks, the only thing I really wanted was for my Mum to came and tell me everything would work out in the end. Sometimes I can be such an ungrateful little prick.
"Next time, we'll see if we can stat longer." George said cheerfully, waving his wand, causing his trunk to float towards him.
"If you're not still babysitting the Death Eater scum upstairs." Fred finished, waving his own wand. And with a crack, they were gone. Somehow, the entire kitchen seemed bigger…and quieter.
"I'm stuffed." Ron declared, dropping his utensils with a clatter and leaning back in his seat. He patted his stomach happily, letting out a huge belch. Hermione wrinkled her nose at him.
"Goodness." She said haughtily, and began to clear off the table. Mum had to coax Ron into helping clean up, but Harry had gotten up on his own. I went to pick up my own plate but Mum stopped me.
"Not you dear. I need you to take this up to our guest." She said, handing me a plate piled high with back, ham and eggs. Our guest? She couldn't possibly be talking about Malfoy…he was more of a prisoner, or maybe a refugee. I hadn't forgotten his little outburst the night before and I had no intention of going back up there. I shook my head taking a step back.
"No way." I said, "I took him dinner last night." Mum's face went red at that comment. That was never a good sign. I knew I was about to get a 'stern talking to' when Harry interrupted. He had an odd look on his face, somewhere between guiltless pleasure and pure hatred.
"I'll do it." He said, stepping forward. The kitchen fell silent; all clicking of plates and knives seemed to die.
"Harry, do you think that's such a good idea?" Hermione asked apprehensively, balancing a pile of clean plates over her arms. Harry opened his mouth to answer but Mum forced the plate of food, and his school letter onto me before he could speak.
"No need dear, Ginevra has it." She threw a glare at me and I knew if I didn't do hat she said, I would regret it for the rest of the summer. I grabbed the plate and marched up the stairs making sure every step sounded like a mini-earthquake. By the time I got to my floor though, I made myself stop. I must admit I was a little frightened. Maybe I should just knock and run away? I could leave the food in the hall. Yes, that's what I would do. I put the plate on the ground just before the door and knocked rapidly. I barely took a step though when the door flew open. Lucky for me the door opens inward or the plate of food would have gone flying. If Malfoy wasnt standing in the door way, striking the fear of God into my heart, I would have giggled. I froze, and he gave me the once over. Why was it every time he looked at me I felt like I was naked? I blushed and looked down at my little froggie shorts…well, I might as well be.
"Weasely, why is there a plate of ham on the floor?" He asked. It was such a simple question, why was I scrambling for a reply. I felt my mouth open and close several times, and he waited, almost patiently, for an answer.
"It's your breakfast." I said finally, I mental patted myself on the back. He rose and eye brow at me.
"Perhaps I should rephrase my question. Why is my breakfast on the floor?" Because Malfoy, I was too scared to give it to you in person, so I was planning on running away. You foiled my plans however, by opening the door before I could make my escape. Right.
"Because." I said. I felt my face turn red again, but I glared at him stubbornly. He nodded.
"Yes, well, perhaps you should pick it up." And with that he turned back into the room. I glared at him, but followed him in with the plate anyway, Mum's evil glare still in the back of my mind. The room was still stuffy and impersonal. The traveling cloak had disappeared from a bed that looked un-slept in, and the picture of his mother had vanished as well. The only thing in the room that looked touched was the empty white ceramic plate from the night before. I set his breakfast down on the trunk and picked up the dirty plate, wincing at the crusty reminisce of last nights dinner glued to the bottom. I was going to have fun scrubbing this out. I turned to Malfoy, who was staring out the window again. He was wearing charcoal grey slacks today, and another crisp white shirt. It was un-tucked and he had his fists jammed into his pockets. His hair, which had been falling out of place when I left him yesterday, was plastered back against his head again.
"Maybe you should open a window. Get some fresh air." I suggested. The room seemed to be suffocating me and I didn't know how he could stand it in here with the windows closed.
"Maybe you should keep your comments to yourself." The words sounded like they should sting but his heart wasn't really into it. I glared stonily at the back of his head. Why was it that when I'm around him, I get really bad head aches? All this frowning can't be good for wrinkles either…I'll look like a walnut by the time I'm thirty.
"Well, aren't you just Mr. Sunshine." I snapped haughtily, turning on my heel. I'm pretty sure the sharp gesture would have been more dramatic if I wasn't carrying a dirty dinner plate. Or if Malfoy was paying any attention to me at all. "I'll just leave you here to wallow in your self pity." And with that, I shut the door with a snap. HA! Who got the last word now? Immidiatly after thinking this, I contemplated throwing myself down the stairs as punishment. Please, what am I six? I shouldn't lower myself to his dingy level. By the time I made it into the kitchen, it was empty. The table was spotless and the dishes were all clean. I assumed the boys were out playing Quidditch, and Hermione was probably watching. The plate proved to be harder to clean than I had originally thought and was still scrubbing when Mum walked in.
"Did our guest enjoy his breakfast?" She asked me pleasantly, settling down at the table with her knitting. I snorted.
"How should I know? I left before he started eating." I could imagine Mum frowning at me as I reached for a dishtowel and began to dry off the plate.
"So the poor boy is up there, eating his breakfast all alone?" In almost laughed at that. I wouldn't exactly classify Malfoy as a 'Poor Boy." Anyway, it's not like he welcomed me with open arms. He threw flaming garbage at me…metaphorically speaking of course.
"Mum, I'm not going to sit there and make small talk with an ex-Death Eater. Not after what his lot did to me, to our entire family." I tried to keep my tone civil, but I heard my voice rise a little, and I put the plate down unnecessarily hard. It chipped a little on the counter…oops. Mum sighed, and I turned around to face her, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms over my chest. She was watching her knitting intently, as though worried it would run away.
"Ginevra. You shouldn't judge people by the mistakes they made." I was suddenly angry, very angry infact. If you know anything at all about Weaselys, you will know we aren't known for controlling our tempers.
"It was a pretty damn big mistake." I snapped. "Because of him Dumbledore's dead!" With out warning Mum slammed her knitting down on the table and stood up, the chair scraping backwards. I was taller than her, but the shear size of her fury seemed to fill the entire room.
"Do you have any idea what You Know Who did to that lonely child?" She snapped at me, and I looked away. I'de like to see one of you stare my mother in the face when she was intent on making you feel two inches tall. "He threatened him with his family. He said if Draco didn't kill Dumbledore, his family would die long agonizing deaths. What would you have done in that situation Ginevra? Do you really think you could sit back and let the Dark Lord pick off your loved ones?" I felt heat rise to my face and tears fill my eyes. I didn't know- "Answer me!" She shoulted, hitting the table and making me jump.
"No," I said quietly. That one word pushed a tear over the edge and it slid down my cheek. I wiped it away, fuming at my body's betrayal. How was I supposed to win this if I was blubbering like a baby?
"Exactly. You would have done everything in your power to ensure your family's safety. It's a wonder he accepted the ministry's help after they-" She stopped short, putting a hand to her mouth. I narrowed my eyes at her, causing a few more tears to slide down my cheeks.
"After they what?" I asked suspiciously. What did the ministry do?
"It's not important. You don't need to know." She said, settling back down and picking up her knitting. She looked up at me, the anger gone now, and a sympathetic look replacing it.
"Ginny dear, I know it couldn't have been easy for you, locked away in that horrible place for so long. It's understandable that you are bitter. But you must remember, those times were hard on all of us. Be grateful we all survived and we can go on, together as a family. We owe it to those less fortunate to show some hospitality. The child is alone in this world, don't you think he would appreciate a little company while he eats?" I doubted it, but I didn't say so. I just made my way to the back door. Before I could escape to the garden, Mum hollered after me;
"Try to stay a bit longer next time you bring him up food." And then I shut the door. I was starting to resent being Malfoy's delivery girl. As much as I hated to admit it, there was reason to my mother's madness. It's times like these I wish I was a cold hearted bitch.
(A/U) Soooo how was it? Sorry it took so long, but school's taking up a lot of my time lately! Do you have any idea how many times I re-wrote this chapter? It was originally from Malfoy's point of view, but then I had to change it, because he kept coming out too OOC. Also, please understand I have no idea where this story is going, not even a remote concept. I'm just kind of making it up as I go along. All I know is I'm aiming for a love/hate relationship. Those are my faaaaav! Of course, my plans don't always work out, so it may just end up being a love/love relationship! We'll have to see…was Ginny firey enough? For some reason I feel like she wasn't her usual head-strong self in this chapter….oh well. Anyways, please leave a pretty review and brighten my day! Constructive criticism is welcome.
Works Cited:
The Letter: I
stole the hogwarts letter from the first book. It's nearly copied word
for word, except i substituted McGonagall for Headmistress obviously. I
made up a few impressive acomplishments for her to show off too! ; )
I stole this idea from Tiny Q! hope you don't mind me using it! You all should read Painting an Oyster. It is honest to god, the best fanfic I have ever read!