- Once Upon A Fairy Tale -
PROLOGUE
~*~
“Once upon a time, in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. The red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, would it not be wonderful if I had a child with skin as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, and her hair as black as the wood of the window-frame? Her prayers were answered soon after and she had a little daughter, whose skin was as white as snow, and whose lips as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony, and she was therefore called little Snow White …”
“Wait a minute, Weasley.”
“What?” Ginny snapped, struggling in vain to turn around without having her ridiculously long hair obstruct her movement.
If she had been in a better mood, she would have appreciated her newly acquired long hair more – it was magnificent, fine as spun gold and red as sunset, threaded with hints of shiny copper. The smooth river of flame that fell softly over her shoulders was straight; the rest of the length rippled in loose spiral curls. Ginny, like every girl her age, had often wished to have beautiful long hair like the princesses and beauties had in fairy tales; an elegant look she could proudly wear and that would draw admiring glances, but surely not this long? Long shiny tresses were only enviable in fantasy. In reality, having hair that ran at least fifty feet was as bad as having Draco Malfoy in the same room. It was difficult not to trip over them. Piling and fastening them on the top of her head was not an option. Not only were they too heavy to be supported on her head, it made her looked like an absurd incarnation of a strawberry on legs.
Washing her hair was another nightmare. Unfastening the braids alone took up hours. With the washing, combing, and braiding, there was no time to do anything else. If this were how life was like for beauties like Rapunzel, then Ginny would rather have hers back. Her own hair might be a horrid sight to behold, but it beat this life any day. Sure it would be nice to have Prince Charming profess his undying love for her like how it was in the romantic story of Rapunzel, but Ginny was convinced that even without great hair, she would meet a nice boy one day. Besides, if having her wildest dream come true meant having to endure the prospect of such confession from Draco Malfoy, she would very much rather be dead than romantic.
“Ahem hem.” She snapped out of her reverie at the sound of Draco clearing his throat. Coming from him, the sound was almost vulgar.
“I said,” he started to say nonchalantly once he had garnered her attention. He swung his feet onto the table, and leaning back comfortably in the chair, continued, “there is a problem there, in that story, Snow White, is it? One, you don’t have skin as white as snow. You have skin splattered with brown, hideous spots. Two, you don’t have lips as red as blood, which is fine since I can only imagine a banshee having lips like that. Three, your hair is red, not black. And of course, there’s the fact that you are not pretty enough. What makes you think that you can carry off Snow White?”
She fumed.
As if you have what it takes to be a prince.
“In case you haven’t realised,” she retorted, holding up a handful of her hair and swinging it at Draco’s direction, “This fantasy world has its own magic to make things work. I already have ridiculous long hair. And you have ridiculous pointy boots. Purple pointy boots with white stockings. And that … that, I don’t even know what to call it …”
It was a shiny black satin shirt with an attached white neck ruffle and puffy violet sleeves. Over the shirt was a long vest in deep gold, sleeveless and satiny. The front of the vest had sparkling sequins in various shades of blue, red and violet sewn in elaborated designs, and the hems were lined with laces. At the end of the sleeves, there were even more laces. Ginny felt that there should be a law to limit the amount of laces a tailor could use in a single outfit. The loose trousers (she was not even sure if she could call that trousers) that were fastened at the knees made Draco looked like he had accidentally stepped into two wine barrels and had them pulled up to his thighs.
And as if it was not enough, a red cape was worn over the vest, completed with fur trimmings, and decorated ostentatiously in gold and silver threads. The overall effect was that of an oversized prat with an oversized ego sitting in an oversized chair presenting himself as an emblem for the oversized fashion disaster of the medieval era.
“ … but I digress. I suppose when we reach the story of Snow White, I will become someone with black hair and fair skin. After being stuck here for so long, one would think you would have figured this out. But then again, you are intellectually challenged, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Draco shrugged without saying another word. The display of haughty detachment annoyed Ginny more than it would have if he had made some snarky remarks in return. The lack of interest unnerved her already fragile state of mind.
In a childish fit of anger, she threw her Muggle copy of The Never-Ending Fairy Tales at the boy. It hit him in the head and the velvet hat he wore fell on his face. His nose wrinkled as the fur on the edge of the hat trickled his nostrils. He sneezed.
“Hey!”
She ignored his indignant look. Turning around swiftly, she stalked towards the window. The light layer of chiffon on her blue gown, shimmering in the candlelight that had filled out the room, whirled along with her movement, and her hair, which she had given up braiding, was dragged alongthe ground as she walked. With one long finger, she pointed at the opened window and commanded Draco.
“Get out.”
“What?”
“I say get out.”
“Where am I supposed to go? We are in this together.”
“Correction,” Ginny said and folded her arms. “You got me into this mess.”
“And your point is?” Draco questioned as he stood up and strode towards the girl. “Need I remind you that to get out of here, you need me as much as I need you?”
“No, I rather not be reminded of that,” she answered, glaring icily at Draco. “If this is what a fairy tale is supposed to be like, I would rather throw myself off this tower …”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Draco said, coming closer to stand in front of Ginny, his signature smirk plastered on his face. “You want to get out of this as much as I do.”
“Of course,” she answered calmly as she stepped towards Draco, closing the distance between them. “But for now, I’ll settle for getting you out of my sight.”
And with that, she gave Draco a hard shove and pushed him out of the window.
Author’s note: I’ve been on a posting spree this week. Must be the lack of sleep that has made me a little crazy. I have several fics in my hands now, and I’m not the most consistent writer; sometimes I churn out chapters in chunks, sometimes I remain constipated for a long time. Er, so, yar, I apologise in advance for any waiting agony I might cause you.
As I still have not been able to reach my beta, this is posted un-betaed. I take full responsibility for horrible writing, and I apologise in advance if I have traumatised you with bad writing.
Please read and review. ^__^
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