Stay up all night gossiping with your friends.
“You look like absolute crap, Weasley.”
Ginny glanced up at the dark brunette, who was leaning over and squinting at Ginny’s face from an obscenely close distance. “Thank you, Vanessa. How kind of you,” she replied dryly, fastening the catches on her Quidditch boots.
The other witch shrugged, slamming her locker shut with an indifferent expression on her face. “I was just saying. What, rough New Year’s?”
Ginny shook her head. She threw a brief glance at her reflection in the mirror hanging from the backside of her locker door. “No, just had a couple friends over last night,” she answered absent-mindedly, prodding the puffy bags under her eyes with the heel of her hand. If only she could remember that facial-soothing charm her mother was always prattling on about…
Hermione and Luna had spent the night over at Ginny’s flat. The three of them hadn’t gotten much time together lately, what with Luna traveling so much for her job and Hermione being a newlywed, but last night the three of them had stayed up late talking, pigging out on chocolate frogs and Pumpkin pastries and who knows what else. Ginny had gotten exactly a half hour of sleep before having to drag herself out of bed and trip out the door for morning practice.
Vanessa shrugged, eyes wandering over towards the door, already bored. “Well, that’s nice.” She flipped her chocolate-brown curls over her shoulder and walked away without another word, the edges of her light blue practice robes fluttering with each step.
Ginny glanced at the picture hanging on the inside of her locker door, underneath the small mirror. Luna, Hermione and herself waved energetically back at her- Colin had taken the snapshot of the three of them at the edge of the lake at Hogwarts. It was during the beginning of Ginny’s fifth year and despite the impending doom of the world at the time, she looked happy- peaceful- with one arm slung over each of her friends. The three of them were still waving up at Ginny, even after all this time, wide smiles stretched across their faces. Behind them, the water shimmered softly in the autumn sunlight. Ginny smiled.
“Don’t mind Vanessa, Gin,” came another voice, startling Ginny from her thoughts, “she’s still jealous.”
Ginny raised her head to see another witch peeking out from behind her locker door. “Oh, no Allison, it’s alright. I wasn’t- wait.” She paused. “Why would Vanessa be jealous?”
“Well, you know,” said Allison, reaching back to pull her golden curls back with a bright green ribbon, “she saw you talking with Draco at your brother’s wedding reception about a month ago and it got her peacock feathers all ruffled.”
Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Draco? As in Malfoy? Is that woman off her rocker?”
Allison laughed. “Jury’s still out on that one. Though knowing the history between you and Draco Malfoy, I’d say that she is as sane as that bloke in the Prophet who tried to cut out his heart- Beedle the Bard fashion- after his girlfriend dumped him.”
Ginny blanched. “Oh bloody- seriously, Allison, I have had much too little sleep for something that morbid this early in the morning.”
The other witch shrugged, smiling at the expression on Ginny’s face. “Sorry love, just calling the shots like I see them.” She grabbed her lucky Beater’s bat out of her locker and picked up her Firebolt. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” Ginny called, looking up to see Allison rush out of the locker room.
She turned back to her locker, still contemplating the picture. Ginny thought back to the wedding reception last December. Frankly, the most she could remember from the night was sitting alone at her table, swathed in pale blue crape, staring forlornly across the dance floor to where Harry and Cho were talking and laughing together. Not that it bothered her, of course. No memories of Malfoy or a seething Vanessa lurking around jealous corners. Maybe Allison got her mixed up with someone else.
The wedding had come up over the long, meandering conversations the three of them had last night, though. It was nearly impossible to avoid, what with Hermione gushing about Ron every two seconds. It did make Ginny a little green- there was very little she desired to know about Ron’s, erm, sexual life (actually, she had been living happily under the delusion that all six of her brothers were asexual, despite the fact that the many evidences against her theory were running around the Burrow on chubby legs and clamoring for chocolate biscuits every five minutes) – but Hermione was so aglow with the newfound joy of being married that Ginny could do nothing but paste a smile across her face and blame her greenness on the cannoli.
Luna, too, had been dropping hints about some sort of love interest, though she became flustered and began sputtering incoherently anytime someone brought up Rolf Scamander, her new research partner on the undiscovered amphibious species of magical creatures in Romania. She was quite keen on discussing his academic theories and methods on research, but Ginny could barely pry a word out of her friend’s lips about her feelings for the supposed brilliant naturalist. It didn’t help that Hermione was all excited about Rolf’s technique for cross-referencing certain encyclopedias, so the only information Ginny was able to get Luna to admit was that she thought that Rolf was a “somewhat attractive bloke.” The intensity of the blush accompanying this statement, however, was enough to appease Ginny for the moment.
It was a little bittersweet, listening to the words pouring from Hermione's mouth about spending the rest of her life with Ron and watching the hot pinkness dance across Luna’s cheeks every time Ginny hissed Rolf. There was a sullen, petty whisper in the back of Ginny’s mind that continually reminded her how much she resented her friends’ happiness, if only because she knew that she once had what they did and now she wasn’t sure if she ever would again. It was a sobering thought, and even six hours, one long shower and several hundred pounds of ice cream hadn’t been enough to make it vanish completely.
She sighed. Well, there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. No room for morose thoughts about the Boy Who Lived when the captain had the team on this suicidal training program. Ginny picked up her broom and dragged herself out the door. Time to face another day.
“You look like absolute crap, Weasley.”
Ginny glanced up at the dark brunette, who was leaning over and squinting at Ginny’s face from an obscenely close distance. “Thank you, Vanessa. How kind of you,” she replied dryly, fastening the catches on her Quidditch boots.
The other witch shrugged, slamming her locker shut with an indifferent expression on her face. “I was just saying. What, rough New Year’s?”
Ginny shook her head. She threw a brief glance at her reflection in the mirror hanging from the backside of her locker door. “No, just had a couple friends over last night,” she answered absent-mindedly, prodding the puffy bags under her eyes with the heel of her hand. If only she could remember that facial-soothing charm her mother was always prattling on about…
Hermione and Luna had spent the night over at Ginny’s flat. The three of them hadn’t gotten much time together lately, what with Luna traveling so much for her job and Hermione being a newlywed, but last night the three of them had stayed up late talking, pigging out on chocolate frogs and Pumpkin pastries and who knows what else. Ginny had gotten exactly a half hour of sleep before having to drag herself out of bed and trip out the door for morning practice.
Vanessa shrugged, eyes wandering over towards the door, already bored. “Well, that’s nice.” She flipped her chocolate-brown curls over her shoulder and walked away without another word, the edges of her light blue practice robes fluttering with each step.
Ginny glanced at the picture hanging on the inside of her locker door, underneath the small mirror. Luna, Hermione and herself waved energetically back at her- Colin had taken the snapshot of the three of them at the edge of the lake at Hogwarts. It was during the beginning of Ginny’s fifth year and despite the impending doom of the world at the time, she looked happy- peaceful- with one arm slung over each of her friends. The three of them were still waving up at Ginny, even after all this time, wide smiles stretched across their faces. Behind them, the water shimmered softly in the autumn sunlight. Ginny smiled.
“Don’t mind Vanessa, Gin,” came another voice, startling Ginny from her thoughts, “she’s still jealous.”
Ginny raised her head to see another witch peeking out from behind her locker door. “Oh, no Allison, it’s alright. I wasn’t- wait.” She paused. “Why would Vanessa be jealous?”
“Well, you know,” said Allison, reaching back to pull her golden curls back with a bright green ribbon, “she saw you talking with Draco at your brother’s wedding reception about a month ago and it got her peacock feathers all ruffled.”
Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Draco? As in Malfoy? Is that woman off her rocker?”
Allison laughed. “Jury’s still out on that one. Though knowing the history between you and Draco Malfoy, I’d say that she is as sane as that bloke in the Prophet who tried to cut out his heart- Beedle the Bard fashion- after his girlfriend dumped him.”
Ginny blanched. “Oh bloody- seriously, Allison, I have had much too little sleep for something that morbid this early in the morning.”
The other witch shrugged, smiling at the expression on Ginny’s face. “Sorry love, just calling the shots like I see them.” She grabbed her lucky Beater’s bat out of her locker and picked up her Firebolt. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” Ginny called, looking up to see Allison rush out of the locker room.
She turned back to her locker, still contemplating the picture. Ginny thought back to the wedding reception last December. Frankly, the most she could remember from the night was sitting alone at her table, swathed in pale blue crape, staring forlornly across the dance floor to where Harry and Cho were talking and laughing together. Not that it bothered her, of course. No memories of Malfoy or a seething Vanessa lurking around jealous corners. Maybe Allison got her mixed up with someone else.
The wedding had come up over the long, meandering conversations the three of them had last night, though. It was nearly impossible to avoid, what with Hermione gushing about Ron every two seconds. It did make Ginny a little green- there was very little she desired to know about Ron’s, erm, sexual life (actually, she had been living happily under the delusion that all six of her brothers were asexual, despite the fact that the many evidences against her theory were running around the Burrow on chubby legs and clamoring for chocolate biscuits every five minutes) – but Hermione was so aglow with the newfound joy of being married that Ginny could do nothing but paste a smile across her face and blame her greenness on the cannoli.
Luna, too, had been dropping hints about some sort of love interest, though she became flustered and began sputtering incoherently anytime someone brought up Rolf Scamander, her new research partner on the undiscovered amphibious species of magical creatures in Romania. She was quite keen on discussing his academic theories and methods on research, but Ginny could barely pry a word out of her friend’s lips about her feelings for the supposed brilliant naturalist. It didn’t help that Hermione was all excited about Rolf’s technique for cross-referencing certain encyclopedias, so the only information Ginny was able to get Luna to admit was that she thought that Rolf was a “somewhat attractive bloke.” The intensity of the blush accompanying this statement, however, was enough to appease Ginny for the moment.
It was a little bittersweet, listening to the words pouring from Hermione's mouth about spending the rest of her life with Ron and watching the hot pinkness dance across Luna’s cheeks every time Ginny hissed Rolf. There was a sullen, petty whisper in the back of Ginny’s mind that continually reminded her how much she resented her friends’ happiness, if only because she knew that she once had what they did and now she wasn’t sure if she ever would again. It was a sobering thought, and even six hours, one long shower and several hundred pounds of ice cream hadn’t been enough to make it vanish completely.
She sighed. Well, there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. No room for morose thoughts about the Boy Who Lived when the captain had the team on this suicidal training program. Ginny picked up her broom and dragged herself out the door. Time to face another day.
Leave a Review