A five-year old Ginny Weasley jumped off her bed, giggling with delight. She ran to the mirror, standing on tip-toe to see herself in the glass. She struggled to stay up, holding onto the cupboard for more support.
“Ginny,” sighed her mother, Molly, exasperated. “Come back here, I’m not done!”
The small girl whined, her lips pouting as she looked over her shoulder. “But Mummy! I want to see!”
“I will show you soon, but I have to finish or we will be late!” scolded Molly, pulling her daughter away from the mirror and setting her down on the bed.
Ginny bowed her head, red curls tumbling over her face. Her shoulders fell in defeat and anger as her mother began fiddling with the ribbons.
Molly smiled, lifting Ginny’s chin so she could see her face. Ginny pulled her chin away and looked down, arms crossed on her lap. “Now, now Ginny. Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to yell at you...”
“Yes you did!” snipped Ginny, shaking her hands.
“No, I didn’t. Be happy, you are going to a big party tonight! It may be the one and only.” Molly grinned, trying to make the outgoing sound appealing to a five-year who’s moods could change before you could blink an eye.
Ginny huffed, shrugging her shoulders dramatically. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Molly went back to putting on green ribbons, curling them magically. “That’s the spirit! You’ll have fun! There are other little girls your age there who will be wanting to find a friend.”
“Do you think so?” asked Ginny hopefully, looking up at her mother eagerly.
“I know so,” Molly said, nodding. “There! I’m done.” She picked up her daughter and carried her over to the mirror, where Ginny giggled while looking into the mirror.
The dress she wore matched her mood at the current moment. A light pink, with frills that itched her to no end. A waist band cut off the top and the bottom with a large carnation that smelled wonderful. Gloves and shoes to match made the outfit complete and Ginny feel like a princess. Arthur and Molly didn’t like to admit it (and continually told themselves that the clothes had appeared one day on their bed), but they spent much of their earnings on their children party clothes. Their sons, all of the them, had a different suit that were proper and elegant. They wanted this night to be perfect, though it was only a Christmas party. A Ministry one, to be exact. So, Arthur and Molly felt they had to spend this money; just this once.
Molly didn’t tell her husband she had spent a little more for the gloves and shoes, but her daughter looked like a little princess; they way she twirled and laughed, holding her hands up high.
“Mummy, am I a princess?” Ginny asked innocently as they walked down the stairs.
“Hmm.. well, I’m guessing you are.” Molly stopped and turned to look up the next flight of stairs. “Bill, Charlie! Are you ready?”
A sixteen year old Bill stuck his head out the door, fumbling with a tie. “Just about Mum!”
Fred and George, wearing dress shirts, both red, tucked into a brand new pair of dress pants, appeared from the room opposite. “Really, Mum, why do we have to go to this?” sighed Fred, his hands on his hips.
“Because,” replied Molly, holding onto Ginny’s hand. “We were invited and it would be rude not to go.”
“We’re being rude going,” mumbled George.
“What did you say?” demanded Molly, letting go of Ginny’s hand.
George smiled sweetly. “Nothing, mother dear,” he cooed, rushing back into his room.
“Billy! Billy!” cried Ginny, racing up the stairs.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, you be careful!” called out Molly, looking worriedly at her daughter.
Ginny ignored her and knocked on the door, her face flushed and bright. Bill appeared, looking down. “What Gin?”
“I’m a princess!” she cried gleefully, spinning around and showing off her dress. “See!”
“That you are.” Bill smiled at her and then turned to look at Molly. “Mum, I’m ready. Charlie’s almost done too.”
“Alright, good. Good so far. Arthur!”
Their was a crash from the room beside Molly, a mumbled grunt and some frenzied crying before the door swung open to show a distressed and disheveled Arthur. “Yes, dear?”
“Are Ron and Percy almost ready?”
Arthur looked back into the room. “Well - ”
Molly rolled her eyes. “What now?”
“Well, we had a bit of a problem with Ron’s pants...” muttered Arthur, looking down at his feet.
Molly pushed past Arthur and walked in to see Ron holding a pair of pants split at the seam. Ron looked at his mother, his bottom lip trembled and he began to wail.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean too, Mum! Honestly, I didn’t!” Ron shrieked between sobs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.
“Oh, Ronniekins, it’s okay!” soothed Molly, taking Ron into a hug. She turned to glare at Arthur. “A simple sewing charm would have fixed this in a second!”
“Do you honestly think I know a sewing charm? I’m a man, for Merlin’s sake!”snapped Arthur, running his hand over his already balding head. He paced the room, ignoring the sniffling Ron and Molly fixing the pants with a flick of her wand. “Are the other boys ready?”
“Yes,” answered Molly, standing up and brushing her dress off. “Is Percy ready?”
“He’s already downstairs, waiting patiently,” Arthur said slowly. “Who would have ever though a simple night would have turned into complete chaos?”
Molly raised an eyebrow at him, but Arthur just shook his head to stop the subject. He walked out of the room and descended down the stairs, Ginny pursuing him and asking him what kind of princess she was.
h0;h0;
After transporting by portkey, Arthur and Molly headed their seven children towards the large manor of Cornelius Fudge. In the night, it glowed from the lit rooms and loud chatting. Large balconies loomed overtop of the house where party-goers resided to take a breath of fresh air. It must have been an odd sight to see nine red-heads walking in together, but the Weasley’s paid no mind. The walked into the party, heads held high; Ginny more than the rest.
Quickly, Fred and George snuck away from their family, devious plans of tricks and havoc running their heads. Bill and Charlie moved away, hoping not to be seen with their parents, and went to stand by the refreshment stand, waiting for some school friends, or better yet, girls. Ron and Ginny stayed by Molly’s side as Arthur ran off to talk with other Ministry workers.
“Mummy, where are we?” whispered Ginny, as though talking out loud would be rude.
“We are at the house of a very wealthy worker that knows the Minister,” said Molly, pulling her children away from the door so they wouldn’t be blocking the way or get run over, “So, we must be on our best behavior.”
A tall, broad man with a balding head, golden spectacles and dark crimson robes spotted Molly and walked up to her, beaming broadly and arms wide. “Molly! How are you?” he cried, hugging her tightly.
“I’m fine, Horace. How about you? How are you?” Molly asked when he let go and she had gotten some breath back.
Horace waved his hand, laughing. “I’m amazing, just amazing, Molly! How are the children?”
“Tiring, but still a joy,” Molly smiled as he laughed. “But, it seems most of them have ran off.”
Ginny, who was standing proudly by her mother, stepped up and tapped the large man on the leg. He turned to her, smiling. Ron sunk behind Molly’s leg, whimpering. “Excuse me, mister,” said Ginny confidently. “I’m Ginevra Weasley, but you may call me Ginny. Mummy says I should be kind and introduce myself to others. But, only if Mummy or Daddy knows them.”
Horace let out a roar of laughter. “My, my, what a charming young lady you are!” he cried, patting her head. Ginny smiled widely, showing off some missing teeth. “Well, young Miss, my name is Horace Slughorn.” He held out a hand for Ginny and she shook it, his large hand engulfing her whole hand and forearm.
“Guess what mister?” she said, excitement rising in her.
“What?” asked Horace, kneeling down to be eye-level with her.
“I’m a princess tonight!” Ginny giggled, spinning around for him. “Mummy bought me the dress, and did my hair, and tied my shoes, which are right here!” She kicked up her foot, narrowly missing that man’s face. “And Mummy dressed up all my brothers in their best, but my older brother, Ron, tore his pants. He’s really dumb.”
“Ginny!” cried Molly, looking upset and stern. “That’s not nice to say!”
Ginny sulked. “Well, he is!”
Ron, who had heard Ginny, appeared from behind Molly’s legs, hands on hips and fuming. “Shut up, Ginny! You’re just a dumb girl who doesn’t know anything!”
“Mummy!” whined Ginny, stamping her feet.
Molly sighed. “I’m sorry, Horace.”
He waved his hand, smiling. “No problem. I was off to look for your husband anyway.”
“If you find him, can you send him around here to pick up his son?” Molly pleaded, holding the bickering children apart.
“Will do,” he said before nodding and walking away, already lost in the crowds.
“Now, you two!” huffed Molly, pulling Ron and Ginny into an empty corner. She put them in front of her, holding onto both of them by their shoulders. “You’d two better settle down or you are doing the dishes!”
“With magic?” asked Ron, hopefully, eyes widening. “I’ve always wanted to try out Bill’s wand...”
“No!” snapped Molly. “No magic! By hand, all week, all by yourselves!”
“But he started it!” protested Ginny, pointing at Ron.
“You started it, Ginevra. You called him dumb.”
“I was only saying the truth! He was lying!”
“You’re such a butt head!” cried Ron, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Ronald, language! Now, I am not looking after the two of you all night! Be good, or dishes!” Molly warned, standing up. “Ron, you are staying with me until your father comes by and Ginny, you are going to find Bill and Charlie.”
“Why does she get to leave?” demanded Ron, glaring at his sister.
Ginny stuck out her tongue, laughing, and then skipped away.
h0;h0;
“Draco, sit!”
A small blonde haired boy stumbled back as his father pushed him forward towards the table. He climbed onto the chair, struggling to keep his father pleased. Upon sitting down, he curtly looked towards his father, who had taken a seat opposite of him.
“Daddy...” began Draco in a small voice.
“What have I said about calling me that!” bellowed Lucius, rising from his chair.
Draco cringed, falling back into his seat.
“Show me some respect, boy! I will not tolerate this!”
Narcissa, who stepped from the shadow, was shaking. “Lucius - he’s only a small child.”
“Shut your mouth, woman!” Lucius roared, slamming his fist on the table. “If he does not learn obedience and respect now, how do you think he will turn out when he is ten years older? He will disown us and disobey us, like some rotten, spoiled child. Which he is not.”
“Can’t - can’t we wait till he is a few years older?” pleaded Narcissa, touching Draco’s shoulder gently. “He’s only six!”
“He will not listen by then! Do they train dogs when they are of old age to do tricks? No! They train them when they are pups. Young. When they will obey.” Lucius seethed, smiling a crooked, evil grin.
Narcissa eyes darted towards the door, that lead to the entrance hall, where all her guests were milling around, waiting for the host’s to arrive. “Lucius,” she hissed, “Not now, okay? Later.”
Lucius eyes snapped from his trembling son to his wife. “Later?” he repeated and nodded. “Fine. I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect party.”
“Oh, don’t be so snippy!” said Narcissa, placing her hands on her hips. “You were the one who offered to the Minister to have this stupid party here!”
Draco slid off his chair and crawled by his mother’s feet. He heard his father yell something inaudible as he pushed through a trap door near the row of chairs seated along the opposite wall. He pushed through it, cutting off the world with a small wooden flap, and entered a dark tunnel. Breathing in the dust, he crawled on his elbows and knees down the well-known tunnel. He had since become to big to fit into the tunnel, now crawling uncomfortably along the bumpy floor, but it was his only means of escaping.
He heard talking getting louder and louder as he came nearer his destination. Opening the small flap, he peeked through to see two pairs of feet standing by the door.
“... only that the oaf was dumb enough to believe it!” Someone roared with laughter. It sounded male. Deep, rough and from the throat.
“Oh, that’s too funny!” shrieked another person, also laughing. “Well, do you think we should get back to the festivities?”
“Might as well,” said the same one who had told the joke. He paused. “This place isn’t fit for living.”
The other person must have agreed, because foot steps retreated away from the door flap and a door clicked shut.
Draco crawled out of the tunnel, coughing and sputtering. He stood up feebly, and brushed the dirt off of his clothes. He looked around and smiled. The room contained pictures piled up along the walls, all old and complaining from the lack of attention and care. Draco ignored them and walked out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.
Looking both ways down the hall - only seeing a house-elf turning around the corner, holding a tray of wine - Draco headed down the same way the house-elf went, but he didn’t turn the corner. Instead, he continued walking, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Hello!” cried a small voice from behind him, making him jump.
He spun around, eyes wide to see a small girl, dressed in nothing but pink, with bright red hair, a million freckles and red and green ribbons bouncing from her pigtails.
“What do you want?” asked Draco slowly.
“Just to say hi. Why are you sad?” the small girl asked, tilting her head to one side.
“I’m not!” snapped Draco indignantly, getting irritated.
“You look like it,” pointed out the girl. “My name is Ginny.”
“I don’t care,” spat Draco, trying to push past the girl named Ginny, but she didn’t budge.
“What’s your name?” she persisted, still smiling.
“Go away!” Draco ordered, on the verge of tears.
She frowned. “Why? Don’t you like me?”
“No! I don’t!” cried Draco, stamping his feet. “I don’t even know you!”
Ginny looked thoughtful and then smiled. “I like your hair. Do you like mine?”
Draco was about to say he didn’t when he actually looked at it. “Yes,” he whispered. “I do like it.”
She smiled ecstatic. “So, what’s your name?”
He was hesitant. “Draco.”
“Really? What a funny name!” she giggled. “But I like it! I like different things.”
“Oh.” was all Draco could think of to say.
“Why are you sad?” she asked again, sitting down, making herself comfortable.
Draco hesitated and then carefully sat down beside her. “My daddy was yelling again.”
“At who?”
“Me and mommy,” replied Draco, dropping his head.
“My daddy yells too,” said Ginny, nodding her head
“Probably not as much as mine,” Draco mumbled.
“Is this your house?” Ginny asked, looking at him closely.
“Yes,” Draco said, backing away a bit.
“You should yell back!” suggested Ginny, brightening up again.
“What?”
“You’re probably really strong.” Ginny said, laughing.
“Why do you think that?” demanded Draco, straightening up.
“Well, you’re a boy. And my brother, Bill, who’s in his sixth year - ” Ginny held up six fingers, “ - and he’s really, really strong! He can lift me up with one hand!”
Draco was genuinely impressed. “One hand?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah! And, anyway, you have Hercules hair,” added Ginny, matter-of-factly.
Draco blinked. “Hercules hair? What’s that?”
Ginny was shocked. “You’ve never heard of Hercules? My mommy reads me the story all the time!”
Draco sulked again, shoulders hunching over. “My mommy never reads me stories.”
“It’s about this boy who was actually a god and he was really strong, but he couldn’t go back to his mommy and daddy until he proved himself to be a real god. His daddy was Zeus, who ruled everything! And he had blond hair and all boys with blond hair are Hercules!” breathed Ginny, practically bouncing where she was sitting. “You’ve just gotta be strong!”
Draco look flabbergasted. No one had ever called him strong. “I don’t know,” he said dryly, looking away.
Ginny giggled, shaking her curly pigtails around. “Don’t be silly! All boys are strong! Except, my brother Ronnie, who’s a bit of a baby. He cried today.” Ginny made a face.
Draco giggled, hands hovering over his mouth.
Ginny nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “I can beat him up when we wrestle with Fred and George, my other brothers who are twins.”
“You have a lot of brothers,” said Draco, almost in awe.
“Yep!” Ginny stated proudly. “Do you have any?”
“No. It’s just me,” Draco said sadly, picking at the rug that was laying before him.
Ginny looked around at the hall, sighing deeply. She sat on her knees, hands placed on her lap and craned her neck in every different direction to look at the long, dark hallways. “Don’t you get bored?” she asked finally, turning to look back at Draco.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s fun. I’m always finding new things and places to hide. And the house-elves are here to have fun with me. But Daddy must never find out!” Draco added hurriedly, sounding scared. His head snapped down the hall, both ways and then he sighed, leaning against the wall.
“Why can’t your daddy find out?”
“He’ll get mad... and... and...” Draco looked away, tears creeping into his eyes. He couldn’t tell. Never.
“And what?” persuaded Ginny, poking him slightly. “What will he do?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Oh! It’s a secret... yep, you can’t tell secrets. Do you want to go play?”
Draco looked at her, half confused, half astonished. He wasn’t allowed to play without Daddy’s permission. But he wasn’t near and he wanted to play with this girl. She was funny and pretty, and she made him happy again. “Sure.”
“Show me some hiding places! Maybe we can find some of our own!” She stood up at lightening speed and was already racing down the hall, pink dress swishing behind her and pigtails bouncing. “Betch’ya I can beat you to the end of this hall!”
Draco stood up, stumbling. “Don’t run!” He yelled after her. He was getting scared. She was breaking all of Daddy’s rules. If she was caught... Draco shivered. He didn’t want his new friend hurt. Not like all his other friends.
“Then what’s the fun of a race?” she yelled back, sinking into the shadows of the dark hall.
Draco started after her, following the sound of her laughter. He was sinking lower and lower into the darkness. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His side started to ache as he pounded his feet onto the cold floor. What if Daddy found me running? What if he found me playing with a girl? What if...
Before he could think of anymore what-if’s, he ran smack-dab into the girl, who had reached the end of the hall. They both fell, tumbling into a knot, onto the floor.
“I won!” she shrieked into his ear. He felt her stumble up, laughing. “Again?”
Draco stood up, angrily, and dusted himself off. “No! Not again!”
He felt her disappointment. “Why not?”
“Because we will get in trouble, that’s why!” he yelled at her.
“Oh,” she was silent for a moment. “Alright.”
Before Draco could speak again, he felt something slimy and wet on his lips. They pulled away and he stumbled back. “UGHH!” he screamed, wiping his face feverishly.
“I think you’re cute,” she said, now close to his ear.
He stopped brushing his face and turned to look at her. He could only make out her eyes in the dark. “Really?”
“Yep, and I will love you forever. You’re funny, cute and good at racing,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“You’ll love me forever and ever?” he asked, hopeful. It was nice to know someone would love you forever. “That’s a long time.”
“I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I know I’ll love you. Will you love me?”
“I’ll love you too,” Draco whispered, nodding.
Ginny fumbled around in the darkness for a bit. She shook her hair and pulled something off from around her neck. “Here,” she said, opening Draco’s hand and pushing something cold into it. It was a heart-shaped locket, silver and cool. “It’s mine, but now it’s yours. So you’ll remember, okay?”
“Okay,” Draco mumbled, closing his fingers around the locket.
“DRACO!” roared a voice from the other end of the hall. Draco turned his head to see the looming figure of his father bounding down the hall towards him.
“Oh no,” Draco whispered, pushing off the wall and running down the hall towards him. He found me, he found me!
“Draco! Where are you going?” cried Ginny.
“Out of my way, Weasley!” Draco heard Lucius hissing loudly.
Draco pumped his legs, the stitch in his side growing larger and large. Where can I go? He turned the corner, pushing over a large vase, which made a defining crash. Draco was sure everyone heard it in the household, but he didn’t care.
He skidded past a portrait, stopping short. He remembered the small hiding place below it. He turned, listening for his father’s angry footsteps and heated yells.
“DRACO!” he yelled again, his voice echoing off the walls.
Draco kneeled down, running his hands over the spot below the portrait, searching for the small hidden latch. “Come on,” he whispered, frantic. His head whipped to the side to see his father’s shadow growing larger in the torch light.
“What are you looking for, young man?” barked the portrait, but Draco ignored it. He had found the latch.
He pulled on it, but it didn’t come loose. He pulled on it again, harder. It wouldn’t budge.
You’re a boy, so you’ve just gotta be strong!
“DRACO MALFOY!” he heard his father yell again.
Draco pushed his feet against the door, pulling with all his strength. He flew back, head bouncing off the floor.
All boys with blonde hair are Hercules... he was really strong!
Draco rushed back to the door, kicking his feet against it. Hot tears were now streaming down his face as he heard his fathers footsteps coming closer and closer. He sobbed, loudly, choking out every breath as he felt his father’s feet just touching his back.
“You’re in trouble, boy,” hissed Lucius into Draco’s ear, pulling him up by the collar. Draco squeezed the locket, shutting his eyes tight.
I’ll love you forever and ever.
h0;h0;
“Ginny,” sighed her mother, Molly, exasperated. “Come back here, I’m not done!”
The small girl whined, her lips pouting as she looked over her shoulder. “But Mummy! I want to see!”
“I will show you soon, but I have to finish or we will be late!” scolded Molly, pulling her daughter away from the mirror and setting her down on the bed.
Ginny bowed her head, red curls tumbling over her face. Her shoulders fell in defeat and anger as her mother began fiddling with the ribbons.
Molly smiled, lifting Ginny’s chin so she could see her face. Ginny pulled her chin away and looked down, arms crossed on her lap. “Now, now Ginny. Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to yell at you...”
“Yes you did!” snipped Ginny, shaking her hands.
“No, I didn’t. Be happy, you are going to a big party tonight! It may be the one and only.” Molly grinned, trying to make the outgoing sound appealing to a five-year who’s moods could change before you could blink an eye.
Ginny huffed, shrugging her shoulders dramatically. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Molly went back to putting on green ribbons, curling them magically. “That’s the spirit! You’ll have fun! There are other little girls your age there who will be wanting to find a friend.”
“Do you think so?” asked Ginny hopefully, looking up at her mother eagerly.
“I know so,” Molly said, nodding. “There! I’m done.” She picked up her daughter and carried her over to the mirror, where Ginny giggled while looking into the mirror.
The dress she wore matched her mood at the current moment. A light pink, with frills that itched her to no end. A waist band cut off the top and the bottom with a large carnation that smelled wonderful. Gloves and shoes to match made the outfit complete and Ginny feel like a princess. Arthur and Molly didn’t like to admit it (and continually told themselves that the clothes had appeared one day on their bed), but they spent much of their earnings on their children party clothes. Their sons, all of the them, had a different suit that were proper and elegant. They wanted this night to be perfect, though it was only a Christmas party. A Ministry one, to be exact. So, Arthur and Molly felt they had to spend this money; just this once.
Molly didn’t tell her husband she had spent a little more for the gloves and shoes, but her daughter looked like a little princess; they way she twirled and laughed, holding her hands up high.
“Mummy, am I a princess?” Ginny asked innocently as they walked down the stairs.
“Hmm.. well, I’m guessing you are.” Molly stopped and turned to look up the next flight of stairs. “Bill, Charlie! Are you ready?”
A sixteen year old Bill stuck his head out the door, fumbling with a tie. “Just about Mum!”
Fred and George, wearing dress shirts, both red, tucked into a brand new pair of dress pants, appeared from the room opposite. “Really, Mum, why do we have to go to this?” sighed Fred, his hands on his hips.
“Because,” replied Molly, holding onto Ginny’s hand. “We were invited and it would be rude not to go.”
“We’re being rude going,” mumbled George.
“What did you say?” demanded Molly, letting go of Ginny’s hand.
George smiled sweetly. “Nothing, mother dear,” he cooed, rushing back into his room.
“Billy! Billy!” cried Ginny, racing up the stairs.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, you be careful!” called out Molly, looking worriedly at her daughter.
Ginny ignored her and knocked on the door, her face flushed and bright. Bill appeared, looking down. “What Gin?”
“I’m a princess!” she cried gleefully, spinning around and showing off her dress. “See!”
“That you are.” Bill smiled at her and then turned to look at Molly. “Mum, I’m ready. Charlie’s almost done too.”
“Alright, good. Good so far. Arthur!”
Their was a crash from the room beside Molly, a mumbled grunt and some frenzied crying before the door swung open to show a distressed and disheveled Arthur. “Yes, dear?”
“Are Ron and Percy almost ready?”
Arthur looked back into the room. “Well - ”
Molly rolled her eyes. “What now?”
“Well, we had a bit of a problem with Ron’s pants...” muttered Arthur, looking down at his feet.
Molly pushed past Arthur and walked in to see Ron holding a pair of pants split at the seam. Ron looked at his mother, his bottom lip trembled and he began to wail.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean too, Mum! Honestly, I didn’t!” Ron shrieked between sobs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.
“Oh, Ronniekins, it’s okay!” soothed Molly, taking Ron into a hug. She turned to glare at Arthur. “A simple sewing charm would have fixed this in a second!”
“Do you honestly think I know a sewing charm? I’m a man, for Merlin’s sake!”snapped Arthur, running his hand over his already balding head. He paced the room, ignoring the sniffling Ron and Molly fixing the pants with a flick of her wand. “Are the other boys ready?”
“Yes,” answered Molly, standing up and brushing her dress off. “Is Percy ready?”
“He’s already downstairs, waiting patiently,” Arthur said slowly. “Who would have ever though a simple night would have turned into complete chaos?”
Molly raised an eyebrow at him, but Arthur just shook his head to stop the subject. He walked out of the room and descended down the stairs, Ginny pursuing him and asking him what kind of princess she was.
h0;h0;
After transporting by portkey, Arthur and Molly headed their seven children towards the large manor of Cornelius Fudge. In the night, it glowed from the lit rooms and loud chatting. Large balconies loomed overtop of the house where party-goers resided to take a breath of fresh air. It must have been an odd sight to see nine red-heads walking in together, but the Weasley’s paid no mind. The walked into the party, heads held high; Ginny more than the rest.
Quickly, Fred and George snuck away from their family, devious plans of tricks and havoc running their heads. Bill and Charlie moved away, hoping not to be seen with their parents, and went to stand by the refreshment stand, waiting for some school friends, or better yet, girls. Ron and Ginny stayed by Molly’s side as Arthur ran off to talk with other Ministry workers.
“Mummy, where are we?” whispered Ginny, as though talking out loud would be rude.
“We are at the house of a very wealthy worker that knows the Minister,” said Molly, pulling her children away from the door so they wouldn’t be blocking the way or get run over, “So, we must be on our best behavior.”
A tall, broad man with a balding head, golden spectacles and dark crimson robes spotted Molly and walked up to her, beaming broadly and arms wide. “Molly! How are you?” he cried, hugging her tightly.
“I’m fine, Horace. How about you? How are you?” Molly asked when he let go and she had gotten some breath back.
Horace waved his hand, laughing. “I’m amazing, just amazing, Molly! How are the children?”
“Tiring, but still a joy,” Molly smiled as he laughed. “But, it seems most of them have ran off.”
Ginny, who was standing proudly by her mother, stepped up and tapped the large man on the leg. He turned to her, smiling. Ron sunk behind Molly’s leg, whimpering. “Excuse me, mister,” said Ginny confidently. “I’m Ginevra Weasley, but you may call me Ginny. Mummy says I should be kind and introduce myself to others. But, only if Mummy or Daddy knows them.”
Horace let out a roar of laughter. “My, my, what a charming young lady you are!” he cried, patting her head. Ginny smiled widely, showing off some missing teeth. “Well, young Miss, my name is Horace Slughorn.” He held out a hand for Ginny and she shook it, his large hand engulfing her whole hand and forearm.
“Guess what mister?” she said, excitement rising in her.
“What?” asked Horace, kneeling down to be eye-level with her.
“I’m a princess tonight!” Ginny giggled, spinning around for him. “Mummy bought me the dress, and did my hair, and tied my shoes, which are right here!” She kicked up her foot, narrowly missing that man’s face. “And Mummy dressed up all my brothers in their best, but my older brother, Ron, tore his pants. He’s really dumb.”
“Ginny!” cried Molly, looking upset and stern. “That’s not nice to say!”
Ginny sulked. “Well, he is!”
Ron, who had heard Ginny, appeared from behind Molly’s legs, hands on hips and fuming. “Shut up, Ginny! You’re just a dumb girl who doesn’t know anything!”
“Mummy!” whined Ginny, stamping her feet.
Molly sighed. “I’m sorry, Horace.”
He waved his hand, smiling. “No problem. I was off to look for your husband anyway.”
“If you find him, can you send him around here to pick up his son?” Molly pleaded, holding the bickering children apart.
“Will do,” he said before nodding and walking away, already lost in the crowds.
“Now, you two!” huffed Molly, pulling Ron and Ginny into an empty corner. She put them in front of her, holding onto both of them by their shoulders. “You’d two better settle down or you are doing the dishes!”
“With magic?” asked Ron, hopefully, eyes widening. “I’ve always wanted to try out Bill’s wand...”
“No!” snapped Molly. “No magic! By hand, all week, all by yourselves!”
“But he started it!” protested Ginny, pointing at Ron.
“You started it, Ginevra. You called him dumb.”
“I was only saying the truth! He was lying!”
“You’re such a butt head!” cried Ron, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Ronald, language! Now, I am not looking after the two of you all night! Be good, or dishes!” Molly warned, standing up. “Ron, you are staying with me until your father comes by and Ginny, you are going to find Bill and Charlie.”
“Why does she get to leave?” demanded Ron, glaring at his sister.
Ginny stuck out her tongue, laughing, and then skipped away.
h0;h0;
“Draco, sit!”
A small blonde haired boy stumbled back as his father pushed him forward towards the table. He climbed onto the chair, struggling to keep his father pleased. Upon sitting down, he curtly looked towards his father, who had taken a seat opposite of him.
“Daddy...” began Draco in a small voice.
“What have I said about calling me that!” bellowed Lucius, rising from his chair.
Draco cringed, falling back into his seat.
“Show me some respect, boy! I will not tolerate this!”
Narcissa, who stepped from the shadow, was shaking. “Lucius - he’s only a small child.”
“Shut your mouth, woman!” Lucius roared, slamming his fist on the table. “If he does not learn obedience and respect now, how do you think he will turn out when he is ten years older? He will disown us and disobey us, like some rotten, spoiled child. Which he is not.”
“Can’t - can’t we wait till he is a few years older?” pleaded Narcissa, touching Draco’s shoulder gently. “He’s only six!”
“He will not listen by then! Do they train dogs when they are of old age to do tricks? No! They train them when they are pups. Young. When they will obey.” Lucius seethed, smiling a crooked, evil grin.
Narcissa eyes darted towards the door, that lead to the entrance hall, where all her guests were milling around, waiting for the host’s to arrive. “Lucius,” she hissed, “Not now, okay? Later.”
Lucius eyes snapped from his trembling son to his wife. “Later?” he repeated and nodded. “Fine. I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect party.”
“Oh, don’t be so snippy!” said Narcissa, placing her hands on her hips. “You were the one who offered to the Minister to have this stupid party here!”
Draco slid off his chair and crawled by his mother’s feet. He heard his father yell something inaudible as he pushed through a trap door near the row of chairs seated along the opposite wall. He pushed through it, cutting off the world with a small wooden flap, and entered a dark tunnel. Breathing in the dust, he crawled on his elbows and knees down the well-known tunnel. He had since become to big to fit into the tunnel, now crawling uncomfortably along the bumpy floor, but it was his only means of escaping.
He heard talking getting louder and louder as he came nearer his destination. Opening the small flap, he peeked through to see two pairs of feet standing by the door.
“... only that the oaf was dumb enough to believe it!” Someone roared with laughter. It sounded male. Deep, rough and from the throat.
“Oh, that’s too funny!” shrieked another person, also laughing. “Well, do you think we should get back to the festivities?”
“Might as well,” said the same one who had told the joke. He paused. “This place isn’t fit for living.”
The other person must have agreed, because foot steps retreated away from the door flap and a door clicked shut.
Draco crawled out of the tunnel, coughing and sputtering. He stood up feebly, and brushed the dirt off of his clothes. He looked around and smiled. The room contained pictures piled up along the walls, all old and complaining from the lack of attention and care. Draco ignored them and walked out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.
Looking both ways down the hall - only seeing a house-elf turning around the corner, holding a tray of wine - Draco headed down the same way the house-elf went, but he didn’t turn the corner. Instead, he continued walking, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Hello!” cried a small voice from behind him, making him jump.
He spun around, eyes wide to see a small girl, dressed in nothing but pink, with bright red hair, a million freckles and red and green ribbons bouncing from her pigtails.
“What do you want?” asked Draco slowly.
“Just to say hi. Why are you sad?” the small girl asked, tilting her head to one side.
“I’m not!” snapped Draco indignantly, getting irritated.
“You look like it,” pointed out the girl. “My name is Ginny.”
“I don’t care,” spat Draco, trying to push past the girl named Ginny, but she didn’t budge.
“What’s your name?” she persisted, still smiling.
“Go away!” Draco ordered, on the verge of tears.
She frowned. “Why? Don’t you like me?”
“No! I don’t!” cried Draco, stamping his feet. “I don’t even know you!”
Ginny looked thoughtful and then smiled. “I like your hair. Do you like mine?”
Draco was about to say he didn’t when he actually looked at it. “Yes,” he whispered. “I do like it.”
She smiled ecstatic. “So, what’s your name?”
He was hesitant. “Draco.”
“Really? What a funny name!” she giggled. “But I like it! I like different things.”
“Oh.” was all Draco could think of to say.
“Why are you sad?” she asked again, sitting down, making herself comfortable.
Draco hesitated and then carefully sat down beside her. “My daddy was yelling again.”
“At who?”
“Me and mommy,” replied Draco, dropping his head.
“My daddy yells too,” said Ginny, nodding her head
“Probably not as much as mine,” Draco mumbled.
“Is this your house?” Ginny asked, looking at him closely.
“Yes,” Draco said, backing away a bit.
“You should yell back!” suggested Ginny, brightening up again.
“What?”
“You’re probably really strong.” Ginny said, laughing.
“Why do you think that?” demanded Draco, straightening up.
“Well, you’re a boy. And my brother, Bill, who’s in his sixth year - ” Ginny held up six fingers, “ - and he’s really, really strong! He can lift me up with one hand!”
Draco was genuinely impressed. “One hand?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah! And, anyway, you have Hercules hair,” added Ginny, matter-of-factly.
Draco blinked. “Hercules hair? What’s that?”
Ginny was shocked. “You’ve never heard of Hercules? My mommy reads me the story all the time!”
Draco sulked again, shoulders hunching over. “My mommy never reads me stories.”
“It’s about this boy who was actually a god and he was really strong, but he couldn’t go back to his mommy and daddy until he proved himself to be a real god. His daddy was Zeus, who ruled everything! And he had blond hair and all boys with blond hair are Hercules!” breathed Ginny, practically bouncing where she was sitting. “You’ve just gotta be strong!”
Draco look flabbergasted. No one had ever called him strong. “I don’t know,” he said dryly, looking away.
Ginny giggled, shaking her curly pigtails around. “Don’t be silly! All boys are strong! Except, my brother Ronnie, who’s a bit of a baby. He cried today.” Ginny made a face.
Draco giggled, hands hovering over his mouth.
Ginny nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “I can beat him up when we wrestle with Fred and George, my other brothers who are twins.”
“You have a lot of brothers,” said Draco, almost in awe.
“Yep!” Ginny stated proudly. “Do you have any?”
“No. It’s just me,” Draco said sadly, picking at the rug that was laying before him.
Ginny looked around at the hall, sighing deeply. She sat on her knees, hands placed on her lap and craned her neck in every different direction to look at the long, dark hallways. “Don’t you get bored?” she asked finally, turning to look back at Draco.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s fun. I’m always finding new things and places to hide. And the house-elves are here to have fun with me. But Daddy must never find out!” Draco added hurriedly, sounding scared. His head snapped down the hall, both ways and then he sighed, leaning against the wall.
“Why can’t your daddy find out?”
“He’ll get mad... and... and...” Draco looked away, tears creeping into his eyes. He couldn’t tell. Never.
“And what?” persuaded Ginny, poking him slightly. “What will he do?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Oh! It’s a secret... yep, you can’t tell secrets. Do you want to go play?”
Draco looked at her, half confused, half astonished. He wasn’t allowed to play without Daddy’s permission. But he wasn’t near and he wanted to play with this girl. She was funny and pretty, and she made him happy again. “Sure.”
“Show me some hiding places! Maybe we can find some of our own!” She stood up at lightening speed and was already racing down the hall, pink dress swishing behind her and pigtails bouncing. “Betch’ya I can beat you to the end of this hall!”
Draco stood up, stumbling. “Don’t run!” He yelled after her. He was getting scared. She was breaking all of Daddy’s rules. If she was caught... Draco shivered. He didn’t want his new friend hurt. Not like all his other friends.
“Then what’s the fun of a race?” she yelled back, sinking into the shadows of the dark hall.
Draco started after her, following the sound of her laughter. He was sinking lower and lower into the darkness. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His side started to ache as he pounded his feet onto the cold floor. What if Daddy found me running? What if he found me playing with a girl? What if...
Before he could think of anymore what-if’s, he ran smack-dab into the girl, who had reached the end of the hall. They both fell, tumbling into a knot, onto the floor.
“I won!” she shrieked into his ear. He felt her stumble up, laughing. “Again?”
Draco stood up, angrily, and dusted himself off. “No! Not again!”
He felt her disappointment. “Why not?”
“Because we will get in trouble, that’s why!” he yelled at her.
“Oh,” she was silent for a moment. “Alright.”
Before Draco could speak again, he felt something slimy and wet on his lips. They pulled away and he stumbled back. “UGHH!” he screamed, wiping his face feverishly.
“I think you’re cute,” she said, now close to his ear.
He stopped brushing his face and turned to look at her. He could only make out her eyes in the dark. “Really?”
“Yep, and I will love you forever. You’re funny, cute and good at racing,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“You’ll love me forever and ever?” he asked, hopeful. It was nice to know someone would love you forever. “That’s a long time.”
“I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I know I’ll love you. Will you love me?”
“I’ll love you too,” Draco whispered, nodding.
Ginny fumbled around in the darkness for a bit. She shook her hair and pulled something off from around her neck. “Here,” she said, opening Draco’s hand and pushing something cold into it. It was a heart-shaped locket, silver and cool. “It’s mine, but now it’s yours. So you’ll remember, okay?”
“Okay,” Draco mumbled, closing his fingers around the locket.
“DRACO!” roared a voice from the other end of the hall. Draco turned his head to see the looming figure of his father bounding down the hall towards him.
“Oh no,” Draco whispered, pushing off the wall and running down the hall towards him. He found me, he found me!
“Draco! Where are you going?” cried Ginny.
“Out of my way, Weasley!” Draco heard Lucius hissing loudly.
Draco pumped his legs, the stitch in his side growing larger and large. Where can I go? He turned the corner, pushing over a large vase, which made a defining crash. Draco was sure everyone heard it in the household, but he didn’t care.
He skidded past a portrait, stopping short. He remembered the small hiding place below it. He turned, listening for his father’s angry footsteps and heated yells.
“DRACO!” he yelled again, his voice echoing off the walls.
Draco kneeled down, running his hands over the spot below the portrait, searching for the small hidden latch. “Come on,” he whispered, frantic. His head whipped to the side to see his father’s shadow growing larger in the torch light.
“What are you looking for, young man?” barked the portrait, but Draco ignored it. He had found the latch.
He pulled on it, but it didn’t come loose. He pulled on it again, harder. It wouldn’t budge.
You’re a boy, so you’ve just gotta be strong!
“DRACO MALFOY!” he heard his father yell again.
Draco pushed his feet against the door, pulling with all his strength. He flew back, head bouncing off the floor.
All boys with blonde hair are Hercules... he was really strong!
Draco rushed back to the door, kicking his feet against it. Hot tears were now streaming down his face as he heard his fathers footsteps coming closer and closer. He sobbed, loudly, choking out every breath as he felt his father’s feet just touching his back.
“You’re in trouble, boy,” hissed Lucius into Draco’s ear, pulling him up by the collar. Draco squeezed the locket, shutting his eyes tight.
I’ll love you forever and ever.
h0;h0;
The End.
misspinky is the author of 1 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 15 members. Members who liked Hercules also liked 1226 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 15 members. Members who liked Hercules also liked 1226 other stories.
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