he Common Room was quite full, but she had tuned everyone out, concentrating solely on the Transfiguration essay that she had put off for entirely too long. It had taken her three hours to cover six inches of parchment with her large, loopy script, and she had only nine hours to cover eight more, as well as sleep. Well, sleep she could do without. Transfiguration, she could not. At least not if she wanted more out of a career than wand-washing dishes at The Three Broomsticks.
Slowly, the noise level in the comfortable tower room began to creep down. More and more students were calling it a night with each passing minute and going up to bed, something she desperately wanted to do as well. As she double-checked the spelling of the vicissitudo substantia spell in her textbook, she found herself stifling a rather large yawn behind her hand.
"Tired?"
Startled, Ginny looked up. "I thought you went to bed."
"Not yet." Ritchie said, getting up from his seat near the window and sauntering over to the table, where he stood with his hands in pockets. "Need some help?"
"That depends." she said, taking advantage of this distraction to lean back and stretch, then sweep her hair up into a knot on top of her head. "What do you know about Advanced Transfiguration?"
He dropped into the chair across from her. "I know some stuff." he replied loftily.
"Don't lie, Coote, you're not good at it."
"At lying or at Transfiguration?"
"Call me crazy, but I'm going to go with both." She re-inked her quill and brought it back down to the parchment, aware that he was watching her intently. "Can I help you?"
"Your lip looks better."
She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, where the split was healing nicely. Her black eye was all but gone. "Thanks."
"What are you using on it?"
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Bruise-Remover Paste. Best there is. Ron owled me some yesterday."
"Isn't he the one you scrapped with?"
"Yep." she answered mildly, cursing silently to herself as she added an extra "s" to the middle of the word "transubstantiation"
"That was nice of him."
"Yep." After another second, she laid her quill down and looked up at him. "Look, Ritchie, I really need to get this done. Is there something that you need?"
"Yeah, actually, I wanted to remind you that you owe me a coffee."
"Funny, I don't remember owing you anything."
"You do. From that day in Diagon Alley after Christmas."
"If you say so."
"I was wondering if you'd like to make good on that on Saturday. It's a Hogsmeade day, you know."
"Oh, I know. My mum and my sister-in-law and my other sister in-law-- well, soon-to-be-- are coming to meet me."
"Why?"
"Wedding stuff. I have to be a bridesmaid. And that means I have to try on some dress, but I can't keep leaving school at the drop of a wand, so they're coming to Hogsmeade."
"Oh. What about after? After you meet them, I mean."
It took a great internal struggle not to roll her eyes. "If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"
His eyes lit up. "Yeah."
"All right then, fine. We can get coffee on Saturday."
The way he practically floated out of the Common Room and towards the boys' dormitories gave her a rather anxious feeling, almost like she'd just inadvertently signed something that turned out to be a deal with a Dark wizard. Well done, she congratulated herself caustically, you just agreed to something that could be construed as a date with the biggest yob this side of the River Clyde.
She chased the thought out of her mind with homework, finally laying down her quill a final time as the clock above the mantelpiece struck half-past three. A steady rain had kicked up somewhere in the past four hours, and the sound of it drumming on the windows was the only thing that broke the silence. It seemed as though the whole castle was still and peaceful.
Something about the way light and shadow patterned the walls reminded her of a very different event that had taken place in the Common Room, back in her fifth year; the rowdy, impromptu party following Gryffindor's Quidditch victory over Ravenclaw… during which she and Harry had shared their first kiss, in front of fifty cheering people.
Ginny smiled at the memory as she shuffled sleepily up the stairs, at how young and silly they'd been. An awful lot had happened since that kiss, she thought, with only a trace of resentment. In light of everything, it seemed so stupid to continue dwelling on Harry, and what had happened. After all, it'd been her idea to break up. It'd been four months, and she was only starting to not want to throw things when she thought of him.
The dormitory was dark and quiet, save for the rain that still pelted the windows and Regina Towler's shallow, nasal breathing. Regina and Ginny got on about as well as the twins had with Kenneth, and Ginny was tempted, briefly but strongly, to hit her with the Nose-Plug hex. Instead, she fell onto her bed, too tired to bother changing into pyjamas. Her last thought before sleep was not of jinxing Regina, but of some vaguely formed notion of Harry, and how she was going to take Hermione's advice of so long ago, and let him be.
It seemed as though she'd been asleep for approximately three minutes when the alarm clock on her night table began to ring importantly. With a grunt, she pulled her pillow over her face and groped blindly for the clock. She found her wand instead, which she pointed at the source of the ringing. It gave one last startled chime, and then was silent.
A few more minutes of blissful dozing were interrupted by a poke in the shoulder. "Ginny." A voice said somewhere above her, then more insistently, "Ginny."
"What?" she groaned into her pillow, which was then removed from her face. The pinched face of Regina Towler hovered above.
"Come on. You're going to be-- what happened to you?"
"Transfiguration--" she yawned elaborately, once, then twice-- "essay."
"Well, get a move on. Today's no day for a lie-in."
With that, she walked out the dormitory door. The other two girls that shared the room, Aoibheann and Claire, were already gone as well, leaving her in danger of nodding back off to sleep. Finally, she dragged herself to her feet and into her robes, then down to the Great Hall, where most students were already well into breakfast.
Luna drifted over to join her as she was pouring herself a second cup of coffee. A large something that looked to be made almost entirely of bright orange feathers and long grass sat atop her pile of schoolbooks.
"Good morning, Ginny." she said, settling down across from her.
"Good morning. What's that?"
"Just something I'm working on between lessons." she replied pleasantly. "Did you not sleep well?"
"No, I was up 'til almost four, finishing that fourteen inches of parchment for McGonagall."
"That's very late. Much later than I usually stay up."
"It's later than I usually stay up too. But it wasn't so bad, it's very quiet that time of night."
"I imagine that's helpful. The castle is often quite noisy. Excuse me, are you going to eat that?" she asked a second-year that sat a little ways down the table, pointing to a lonely bowl of porridge that sat in the middle of the table.
"No?" he answered cautiously, fixing Luna's dangling radish earrings with a wide-eyed stare before pushing the bowl timidly towards her.
"Thank you." She turned back to Ginny, who was biting back a smile. "He was very nice, wasn't he?"
"A prince."
"I might take after you and stay up late tonight. I've been drafting plans for my trip in the summertime, and I find that the other students can be rather distracting. I have Madagascar on my itinerary three times."
"You're going to Madagascar?"
"Oh, yes, but only once. Well, for now." She paused for a spoonful of porridge before continuing. "Neville and I are planning to tour the coast of Eastern Africa."
"Really?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows in interest.
"He and I have been planning since we came back from Belize. I'm very eager to go to Comoros; people say that one of the last remaining colonies of Umgubular Slashkilters is in the jungle there."
"Oh." It was all she could think of to say.
"It's all very exciting." she said, smiling distantly at the air somewhere behind Ginny's head. Then, just as quickly, she focused back on her. "How about you?"
"What do you mean, how about me?"
"What did you use the time to think about?"
"Oh, uh, well… Harry."
Luna nodded encouragingly.
"I decided that, uh, I'm going to let him be."
This did not seem to be what Luna was expecting to hear, as her expression fell by degrees to puzzlement. "Have you decided that you no longer enjoy Harry's company?"
"It's not that. I'm just tired of moping after him. All I want is for him to be happy."
"You should want to be happy as well."
"I know. I do. I mean, I am."
"Hmmm." Luna said thoughtfully, absentmindedly twisting a long lock of hair around the end of her spoon. "Yes, I see that you do seem happier today. Even if you do look quite tired."
She stifled another yawn. "Yeah, well, I had to get that essay done. When did you finish?"
"Oh, last week. I much prefer Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures to Transfiguration, so I wanted to get it out of the way."
"I wish I would have thought to do that."
"Perhaps next time."
"Maybe."
A banging overhead signalled the arrival of the morning post, and soon the air above the tables was filled with owls. Two landed almost in near synchronization on the Gryffindor table, the small tawny in front of Ginny, and the large snowy before Luna.
"That from your dad?" Ginny asked, removing the two envelopes bearing her name from the owl's scaly leg. He waited for Luna to take her letter before both owls flew away again and above the clouds covering the enchanted ceiling.
"Neville." she replied, turning faintly pink as she plucked an exotic-looking flower that had been pressed between the pages of the letter. "He's studying plants in Bhutan."
"That's gorgeous." Ginny said, gently taking the flower from Luna. She held it by its delicate, papery stem and turned it slowly, admiring the strange, tufty blue petals before handing it back. "Are you…?"
"Oh, no, we're just friends." she said, with an uncharacteristically shy smile. "What have you got?"
"Good question." She ripped open the first envelope, addressed to her in very familiar handwriting, and shaking out piece of parchment. "Oh, great, Mum sent pictures of the dress."
The pair of photos that Mrs. Weasley had enclosed both showed Fleur Weasley standing in front of a three-panelled mirror, admiring her reflection as she turned this way and that, checking out all angles of the sage green dress that she wore. It was simple and strapless, and, as Luna commented, looked very comfortable.
"It does, doesn't it? It could be a lot worse." Ginny said, taking another look at Fleur's posing before passing off the photos to Luna. "Wonder who this is from?" She tore open the other envelope and extracted another letter.
Dear Ginny, it read.
I hope this letter finds you well. Between practices and matches (both mine and Davy's!), I'm not getting a lot of time to sit down and write, so please forgive the lateness of my owl. How is the Quidditch season at Hogwarts? I was at the match in February, and Gryffindor's team looks first rate. Who's your Keeper? She'd make Wood proud. But, of course, you were amazing, and this is actually why I'm writing. I've mentioned you several times to Gwenog Jones, and I went on so much about you after your last match, she wants to clap eyes on you herself.
Here, Ginny had to pause and re-read the line a few times before continuing on.
So we're going to come up to the castle for your last match next month, assuming of course that it's okay with you! As she said herself, there's always room on the team for a talented player. But no pressure, ha ha! I'm sure you'll be busy lugging the Quidditch cup around, but make sure you leave a few minutes to talk to her after the match. Hoping all is well, and pass my regards on to George.
Angelina
"Have you caught a Wrackspurt?" Luna asked affably, and Ginny finally looked up and noticed that her friend's large silvery eyes were fixed on her.
"What? Oh, no, it's just… wow, read this." she said, shaking her head in amazement and pushing the paper across the table.
"That's very thrilling." Luna agreed after she had finished perusing the letter and handed it back. "Perhaps they'll ask you to play Quidditch with them next year."
"And maybe Cornelius Fudge will become the new Transfiguration teacher."
"Oh, I hope not. He doesn't seem as though he'd be very good. Has he already accepted the position?"
"I wasn't serious. I don't think McGonagall would give him a job, even Filch's."
"Well, that's a relief. Remember when he used his position as Minister for Magic to orchestrate a hostile takeover of Gringott's?"
"Er… I remember that story in The Quibbler, yeah."
This answer seemed to satisfy Luna. The bell rang before she had the opportunity to press the issue, and the girls collected their belongings and joined the flood of students filing out of the Great Hall towards their first morning classes. They split up at the main staircase, with Luna heading towards for the greenhouses for Herbology, and Ginny going down into the dungeons for Potions.
"Ginny!"
She paused, juggling her books from one arm to another as Balfour Perkins, the swaggering fifth-year Chaser that had an unnatural aversion to Quidditch practice, waved her down.
"Yeah?" she asked curiously. This was highly unusual-- she wasn't sure he'd ever actively sought her out.
"What's this I hear about you and Coote?"
"Excuse me?"
"I just wanted to make sure that everything's still going to be fair, with you and him--"
"Look, Perkins, I think you have the wrong information. You don't need to be concerned about anything of the sort. And make sure you pass that along to anyone else who might have the wrong idea, all right?"
"All right. Sure. I'll see you later."
From the way he looked back over his shoulder at her as he walked away, she knew he didn't believe a word she'd said. With an exasperated sigh, she continued down into the dungeons. She'd been awake less than an hour, and already it was shaping up to be a very long day.
XxX
Saturday turned out to be sunny and unseasonably warm for mid-April, which meant a large turnout for the Hogsmeade trip. She walked into the village with Demelza and Aoibheann, who were more than happy to tell her that half of Gryffindor house was spending their lunch hour debating on why she had broken it off with Harry for Ritchie.
"For the last time, it's just coffee!"
"Tell that to him." Aoibheann said.
"Oh, don't you worry, I will. Funny how I haven't seen him since Wednesday."
A plump woman with bright red hair was waving gaily at them from further up on High Street, standing with a tall, slender with long silvery-blonde hair and a compact brunette in jeans and trainers. Ginny said good-bye to her friends and went to greet her mother, Fleur and Elizabeth, who were standing outside of a shop called La Primevère Rose. It was painted a particularly precious shade of pink.
"Hello." she said, letting her mother hug her and fuss over her, though it had been scarcely a week ago that she'd been home for George's birthday. Fleur looked eager to go inside, while beside her, Elizabeth kept eyeing the shop warily. After an appropriate amount of hugs and exclamations, they went inside.
"Mon Dieu." Fleur muttered under her breath.
Inside, the dress shop was small and cluttered, with doilies on every available flat surfaces and wallpaper that looked like an over-fertilised cottage garden had vomited all over the walls. At first, Fleur had looked offended at the sheer cuteness of the place, but was now closely examining a chic pair of slate-blue robes. Elizabeth looked immensely uncomfortable, and tried hard not to touch anything as she followed Ginny and Mrs. Weasley past racks of very elaborate hats and glass cases filled with things like winged opera glasses, elbow-length gloves, and high-heeled satin shoes.
"You must be the Weasleys!" called a voice, and a short witch bustled out from behind a pink voile curtain at the back of the shop. She wore a long navy blue skirt and crisp white blouse, and what looked like a lacy tea cosy on top of her grey hair. She seized Mrs. Weasley's hand and squeezed it tight. "I'm Madame Brouchard, dear, but I'm sure you know that. Now, is this the bride?" she asked, turning to Ginny with a wide smile.
"Oh, no, this is my daughter Ginevra, the bridesmaid that needs to try on her dress. This is the bride, Elizabeth." Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing to Elizabeth, whose smile was so uncomfortable it looked rather like she had just swallowed a large mouthful of Doxycide. Madame Brouchard did not seem to notice.
"Why yes, dear, of course. Many congratulations are in order."
"Thank you." Elizabeth replied.
"Are you in the market for a dress as well?"
"Oh, um, no, actually, I'll be wearing my mother's."
Madame Brouchard's smile never faltered, but the eager gleam of a sale left her eyes. "How lovely. Now, come here, let's let your bridesmaid have a look at the dress-- Almandine!" she called loudly, "Venez ici!"
A moment later, a plump house-elf with very large violet eyes rushed into the shop from behind the curtain, a bundle of green fabric in her skinny arms. "Here I is, Madame, here I is." she puffed, coming to stand next to the older witch.
"Here, dear, you can change back here." Madame Brouchard said to Ginny, indicating a silk-panelled screen in the back corner of the shop. She took the dress from the house-elf and followed her behind the screen. "Do you need assistance?"
"Uh, no... thanks. I've got it."
Finally, she went back around into the shop, leaving the dress on a delicate gold hanger. Considering the dresses she had seen in the five minutes since coming into Madame Brouchard's off the High Street, Ginny considered herself lucky.
"Oh, Ginny, that colour ees simply gorgeous on you!" Fleur exclaimed as she came back around the screen and stood in front of the mirror. The reflections of her mother, both sisters-in-law, and the dressmaker and her house-elf all smiled back at her.
"It'd look even better if you weren't wearing your Quidditch socks." Mrs. Weasley said reprovingly, but smiled as she stepped behind her and tugged at the dress. "A bit roomy in the waist, it could stand to be brought in an inch or so…."
Before she could finish, Madame Brouchard pulled a long, narrow wand from her puffy sleeve and came behind Ginny. "Just leave that to me, dear." she said briskly, drawing a long golden tape measure from an unseen pocket and going to work. The house-elf appeared at her side with a dish of pins. "Tea length?" she asked.
"Yes." Elizabeth replied, after getting nods of confirmation from Mrs.Weasley and Fleur. "Please."
"Lovely. Stand tall, Ginevra." she instructed around a mouthful of pins. Ginny obliged, standing still as the dressmaker knelt down on the floor, pinning the satin skirt so that it fell midway between the knee and the ankle. "Hmmmm, now, let me see." she murmured, straightening up and looking critically at the dress. "Yes, an inch in the waist should be sufficient, and, dear me, at least as much in the bust…."
Ginny groaned inwardly as Madame Brouchard continued to fuss over the dress. After what felt like an hour, she straightened up. The dress was full of pins, but it did fit her perfectly. "Yes, I think that will do. You can take the dress off, Ginevra. Just be careful."
Hastily, she retreated behind the screen and eased out of the dress. On the other side of the screen, she could hear her mother politely declining Madame Brouchard's hard sells of everything from handbags to silk slips.
"Oh, no, thank you, but we're not at the accessory stage yet... Oh, love, are you ready?" she asked, looking relieved as Ginny came back into the shop proper.
"Yep."
"Well, all right then, Madame Brouchard, I'll be back in two weeks to pick up the dress." Mrs. Weasley said, edging towards the door, where Fleur and Elizabeth were waiting, not altogether patiently.
"Two weeks dear, and let me know if you'll be needing anything else."
"Of course, of course. Thank you!" With that, she turned and hurried for the door, with Ginny right behind her.
"Zat woman was many t'ings, Molly, but she was certainly not French." Fleur said with derision asked as they joined the shoppers on High Street.
"I'm sorry." Elizabeth said, looking embarrassed. "It was the only place in Hogsmeade that would alter a dress I bought elsewhere."
"Eet ees not your fault." Fleur waved her hand. "Zee dresses are lovely, and with all of us in different places, zis is zee best we could do."
Ginny was impressed with her sister-in-law's diplomacy. "Has your cousin been fitted for her dress yet?" she inquired. Her information on the plans was spotty-- first, there had been no wedding party, then she'd gotten a short but sweet note from Charlie and Elizabeth, asking her to be a bridesmaid along with Fleur and Elizabeth's cousin, a girl named Audrey who apparently practised Wizard law in some foreign country.
"Yes, I owled it to her, and I believe she's already had it altered."
This pleased Mrs. Weasley. "Well, that's wonderful-- not very long left, you know."
"Six weeks." she said with a smile.
Ginny could see Ritchie up ahead, but he had yet to notice her. She stopped short, figuring how best she could avoid any awkward introductions (and questions). Luckily, something caught Fleur's eye in one of the shop windows.
"What do you t'ink of zese shoes, Elizabeth?" she asked. Ginny saw her pointing to a pair of silver sandals with a thankfully small heel.
"They're nice. Do you think silver would match?"
"Of course. Shall we go in and 'ave a look?"
"Sure. It'd be nice to get something else done while we're here." Elizabeth answered.
Mrs. Weasley noticed Ginny fidgeting. "You have to get back, Ginny?"
"Yeah, Mum, I--"
"All right, dear, Fleur and Elizabeth and I can finish up here. Do you like the shoes too?"
"Yeah, they look nice. You know what size I wear?"
"Of course, love."
As Fleur led Elizabeth and Mrs. Weasley into the shop, Ginny continued up the street, dodging shoppers. Taking a deep inward breath, she approached Ritchie from behind.
"Hey." she said as he checked his watch.
"You're late." he replied with a grin.
"Sorry. I was having a dress pinned to me."
"Sounds interesting. Shall we?"
"I suppose. Where are we going?"
"I'm thinking Madame Puddifoot's."
"I'm thinking you've taken too many Bludgers to the head. The Hog's Head or the Three Broomsticks?"
"Three Broomsticks, then."
"All right."
They walked in silence towards the pub, drawing frequent stares from the Hogwarts students that they passed. After a few awkward minutes, they arrived at The Three Broomsticks. Much to Ginny's dismay, it was quite crowded. Over in the corner, she could see Gryffindor's keeper, a tall fourth-year named Clover Boulstridge, seated at a table of whispering girls, all of whom watched with great curiosity as they found a table place to sit, a table that just happened to be dead centre of the room
"Well, you've really given people the wrong idea." Ginny said as he settled down across from her.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh come off it. Do you know how many people have asked me if we're carrying on some sordid affair? Nothing that I've said would lead anyone to this conclusion. So, for the record, Ritchie, this is not a date. It was never a date, and it will never bea date."
He nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry. I just… well, I really like you, and I was happy when you agreed to come out with me, even if it's not a date."
His forthcomingness caught her off-guard. "Oh."
A few more awkwardly silent moments passed, during which Madame Rosmerta, who was looking a fair bit older these days, delivered a pair of butterbeers to their table, though they hadn't ordered them.
"On the house, do you think?" he asked as she moved away, weaving through a maze of crowded tables.
"Unlikely."
"Oh well. Slainté."
"Cheers."
An hour passed quickly, much faster than she would have expected. Away from the rest of the team, Ritchie was less obnoxious, and even occasionally amusing. Something about him, the jokes he made, reminded her of Ron. Conversation was surprisingly easy, once they had passed the initial discomfiture, and when the time came to settle up and return to the castle, she was actually enjoying herself, despite a nagging feeling somewhere in the back of her mind.
"I've got this." he said, pulling a few Galleons from his pocket.
"I thought I owed you coffee."
"You do. We didn't drink coffee. You can just hold on to your money for next time."
"Next time, eh?"
"Sure."
"Well, we'll have to see."
"Something told me you'd say that."
Back out on the street, they parted ways, even though it was obvious that he didn't want to, and she set off for Hogwarts alone. As she exited Hogsmeade, she found Luna laying on her back in the grass near the road, chewing on the stem of a purple clover and scanning the sky.
"Luna?"
"Oh, hello, Ginny." she replied.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking at the clouds. It's really wonderful cloud weather."
"Oh. Yeah, it is nice out."
"Look, it looks just like a hobbit!"
"A what?" she asked, trying to follow Luna's gaze, but all she saw were indistinct shapes.
"Rather like a human, but the size of a goblin. How was your day?"
"Not bad."
"And your time with Ritchie?"
Ginny considered. "I'll tell you something… it really made me miss Harry."
Author's Note: OMG! LIKE A DUMBASS, I FORGOT TO PUBLISH THIS CHAPTER BEFORE I WENT ON VACATION Now back to our regularly-scheduled program.
You guys are way too good to me-- 16 reviews for the last chapter, much more than I could ask for, especially considering that Paige is an OC. And lots of good suggestions for the anniversary chapter.
My apologies for taking so long to update-- we're leaving for vacation in about two hours, and between trying to pack and get everything together at work, I didn't get as much time to write as I wanted to, and I wanted to give Ginny a chapter of decent length. The last chapters I've written about her didn't exactly focus on her, and I wanted to fix that. Hopefully I'll get to update again next weekend, but I won't have computer access this week... at the beach! Oh yeah!
Warmest personal regards to those who reviewed Chapter Four: Babble, Strawberry-Swirls, AnkokuSama, Gray Eyed Beauty, snaplappl21, LauraWalden, weahhh63, fari9986, Steven Carnell, medfanofreading, Titania400, Jasperella, Shlee Verde, Toph081894, cinroc, and smushly.