Chapter 2 – The Announcement

When her parents sent an owl to Madame Boucher saying that Ginny would be delighted to take advantage of this unique opportunity, Ginny had slipped a letter of her own along with it.

Dear Madam Boucher,

My parents are sending you a letter saying that I’ll be coming in January, but I thought I’d write you myself.  You see, while you gave a bit of an explanation about the school, it really didn’t answer my questions.

My brothers, who are all older than me and went to Hogwarts, would tell me all these amazing things about the castle.  Is your school in a castle?  Do the stairs move?  Do you have to fight a trolls to fit in with everyone else?  Supposedly there’s ghosts there too who are dead helpful, but there’s a poltergeist that everyone but Fred and George complain about.  Does your school have any ghosts?  Are they friendly?

Thanks,

Ginny

To say she was shocked at the response would be an understatement.  Madame Boucher seemed to slip into a full-on teacher mode and sent several textbooks on the history of the school, a lengthy letter explaining each of the courses she would be required to take as well as all the elective courses available, and several French primers she would be able to bring along with her. What was the most shocking was the textbook that contained a biography of every witch to have attended the school.  Very few of them had been experts in “normal” jobs, as she called them: many of them had gone on to create entirely new things or had found ways to integrate Muggle technology with magic.

While her parents had not only accepted her choice but had even encouraged it, she was still uncertain of her brother's reactions. They could all be awfully overprotective of her since she was not only the baby of the family, but their only sister, and they might not like her going away somewhere far away where they couldn't keep her from harm. They might even take it as a personal insult that Hogwarts wasn't good enough for her and she had to go to some snooty school far away.  All these thoughts ran through her head one day mid-December.  Her hands began to tremble as she slid the gingerbread cookies she had baked off the tray and onto the platter.

"Here, Ginny dear, let me finish that for you," her mother said while taking the cookie tray out of her daughter's trembling hands. Ginny sank into a nearby chair and began staring intently at her hands.

"What if they hate me, Mum?" she said softly. "What if my brothers never speak to me again because of this?"

"Ginny, that's just silly," her mother scolded. "Your brothers won't give you any trouble, I'll see to that…"

"But, Mum…"

"Ginevera…"

"All right, all right," she said, throwing her hands up in the air signaling defeat. "I'll make sure that my room is straightened out before everyone gets here." Stomping up the stairs, she opened the door to her room and locked the door. It was a very crude Muggle lock her father had found for her years ago when her brothers were always barging into her room. After listening to her cry after one particularly rough day, he had found the lock in his collection and spelled it to resist most unlocking charms. While he and her mother knew spells to unlock it, none of her brothers did.

Despite what she had told her mother earlier, Ginny's room was already clean. It was a violent explosion of pink: the wall were a bright pink, the carpet a pale pink, the furniture white with pink butterflies, and both the bedspread and curtains were pale pink with bright pink butterflies. She winced slightly, here she was, a big girl about to go off to school in another country and her room still looked like that of a little girl. Finally, she had determined what she wanted for Christmas and sat down to write her letter to Father Christmas.

-----

Molly and Arthur had set up a system many years ago for Father Christmas letters. They kept stacks of charmed paper on hand which once folded in a particular way appeared in a special bin hidden to the children that jingled merrily whenever it received a new letter. While most of the children still used it for writing their letters to Father Christmas, Bill and Charlie used it whenever they wished to send them a private message. Molly had gotten letters from all her children this year, with the exception of Ginny. She knew that this was because Ginny was leaving soon and wouldn't be able to bring any gifts with her, but she was still saddened nonetheless. Needless to say, she assumed Bill or Charlie was writing her when she heard the merry jingling just before she headed off to Kings Cross station to pick up her sons.

She walked over to the bin to retrieve the letter and gasped when she recognized Ginny's scribble of "Father Christmas" on the front. The letter was eagerly torn open and she began to read its contents in the dim light of the cupboard:

Dear Father Christmas,

I'm terribly sorry for waiting so long to write you this year, but I've been at a loss as to what to tell you. You see, I'm going to this new school in soon and I'm not allowed to bring anything with me, so it'd be rather silly for me to ask for anything this year. However, I think I have found a solution to this and I do hope you'll be able to help me.

First off, I’m going to school and my room is still pink. I'm not a little girl anymore and I really wish my room were any other color. I don't care if you just charm everything to be another color, just please let my room be any color other than pink.

Secondly, please, please don't let my brothers be mad at me for not going to Hogwarts. Also, please let the new girls at school like me. I've never really had any real friends before and I really want to make some when I get there.

Thanks very much,

Ginny

Molly's mouth was set in a thin line. If this was all her daughter wanted for Christmas, then by God, she was going to get it.

-----

Later that afternoon, after picking up her sons at the train station, Molly began hustling her boys towards the Leaky Cauldron so that they could floo back home. They were quite surprised when she steered them into a booth instead of going directly to the fireplace.  They were even more surprised when after they all sat down, she stood at the head of the table, hands on her hips, glowering down at them.

"Are we eating dinner here, Mum?" Ron asked confusedly, while Fred and George exchanged puzzled looks.  They certainly hadn’t done anything worthy of their mother’s wrath – recently.  There was that one time two months ago – but no, they had already received her Howler for it.

"No, I just need to talk to all of you before we get home." Molly sighed heavily. "Ginny has some news for you and I expect each and every one of you to accept it.  She’s having a hard time worrying about you lot."

Fred and George looked horrified. "Mum," George began, "Ginny is way too young for a boyfriend."

Molly nearly burst out laughing seeing the horrified expressions her four sons now sported. "No, dear, she's not seeing anyone." She shook her head in amusement, afraid that if she didn’t she’d burst out laughing and lose the image she was trying to maintain.  "I expect she’ll tell you during dinner and I don’t want to hear one unkind word out of any of you." She gripped the edge of the table and glared down at them. "Have I made myself clear?"

A chorus of "Yes, Mum" was heard mumbled and she smiled at their retreating backs as she shooed them all to the fireplace.

-----

Ginny was lying on her bed thinking of what her life would be like in just over a week. Would it be similar to the chaos and comfort she knew at home? Would it be cold and uncaring? She was particularly concerned about the constant "Poise and Etiquette" classes she would have to take: the extent of the etiquette that was expected at the Burrow was to say please, thank you, and not speak with your mouth full. Ron had been failing dismally at the latter one all of his life.  The books that Madame Boucher sent made her think that there was a great deal of emphasis placed on that particular subject and that there was a great deal more involved.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she heard a loud thunk on the floor in the kitchen followed by an enthusiastic shout of "GINGERBREAD!" Her brothers must have arrived home and from the sound of it, were devouring all of her hard work. She squealed, jumped out of her bed, and bounded down the stairs to give her brothers a welcome home hug and pester them about school.

"Ron, watch out – " Fred tried to warn, but Ginny had already catapulted herself towards her youngest brother, who sprayed gingerbread crumbs across the room at the force of her impact.

"Gin – gerrof! Come on..." he whined.

Fred walked over to pat his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, ickle Ronnikins, she does this all the time, you'll just have to – oomph –" He was cut off as Ginny took advantage of another brother nearby and enveloped him in a bear hug.

"I think I shall just head upstairs and unpack my things," Percy said pompously, attempting to stride to the staircase before getting attacked by Ginny. Unfortunately for him, he was not quick enough and was nearly knocked over by his baby sister.

"Now, now, Gin," George said as he walked over to free his brother from his sister's clutches. "Don't tell me you don't have a hug for your favorite brother?"

Ginny released Percy, who began to gingerly rub his ribs before escaping to his room, and clung to George. George hugged her back just as fiercely before she exclaimed, "I knew there was a reason you're my favorite brother!"

"Hey now," Fred pouted, feigning hurt. "I thought I was your favorite brother."

Ginny stuck her hands on her hips and glared at her brothers. "I made gingerbread cookies for all of you and this is the welcome I get? Humph."

"Now, Ginny dear, calm down. You know your brothers are just teasing you," her mother said. "Now, dinner's nearly ready and your father should be home any minute so why don't you all go clean up for dinner?"

After everyone had bolted up the stairs to try and get to the bathroom first so they could be the first one at the table, they had all grumbled, washed up, and scrambled back downstairs, where their father had arrived. After hoots of delight at seeing him and somewhat less enthusiastic hugs than earlier, they had all enjoyed Molly's delicious cooking. About halfway through desert, Ginny noticed her mother's pointed looks, and finally cleared her throat.

"Does anyone remember the stories about L’Academie des Sorceries?" she started off, somewhat timidly.

“It’s a mythical school that’s had a number of different names, but that’s the most recent one,” Percy said promptly, holding a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth.  “Why do you ask?”

“How do you know it doesn’t exist?” she pressed on, hoping that Percy’s studiousness would help her in this case.

“I don’t,” he answered honestly.  “According to stories, it’s not a public university so it wouldn’t appear in articles about public Wizarding education in Europe.  There are a handful of private schools in Europe, however, which very few people know of, so it’s possible that it is counted among that number.”

“What if,” Ginny said carefully, “I said I got an invite from them?”

Percy blinked rather owlishly.  “Well, I’d have to give you my congratulations then.”  He seemed to finally grasp what she was trying to say.

“You mean,” said Fred, “that that school actually exists?”

“You won’t be going there, right Ginny?” George asked, confident that her response would be in the negative.

“Actually,” Ginny said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.  “The school does exist and I am going there.”  Glancing around the table she saw her brothers looking at her in shock.  “I’m leaving on Boxing Day,” she muttered, looking down intently at her mashed potatoes.

"WHAT?" Ron shouted. "You're only 10! You can't go to Hogwarts till you're 11 and you definitely can't start mid-term."

"I'm not going to Hogwarts," she mumbled, feeling ill and suddenly wishing she had eaten much less. "I'm going to L'Academie des Sorcieres."

"And why are you starting mid-term?" George asked confusedly.

Arthur cleared his throat and took over. "This is a tremendous honor for Ginny.  It’s a highly selective school that asked her to attend, but since classes are in French she needs to start the immersion program next month."

Daring a peek upwards, Ginny glanced at her brother's faces. Percy’s mouth was hanging open, with his mouth full of chewed food.  Fred and George appeared to be waiting for someone to yell, “April Fools!”  Ron was handling it by far the worst: he looked absolutely livid and his face had taken on the traditional Prewett purple.  She contemplated ducking under the table to avoid the oncoming explosion, be it blood, food, or both, before her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Percy! I have never seen such appalling table manners from you!  Shut your mouth this instant!

“You mean… this isn’t a joke?” George said rather faintly.

“Why would we joke about something this serious?” Arthur asked tiredly, cleaning his glasses on his robes.

“BECAUSE THAT BLOODY SCHOOL DOESN’T EXIST!” Ron bellowed.

“RONALD WEASLEY!  I will NOT tolerate that language under this roof!” Molly shrieked.

“Well, Gin,” George said slowly, “I’ve always pictured you at Hogwarts, but if this is what you want then I guess I’m alright with it.”

“Yeah,” Fred added.  “We’ll just have to send you instructions and ideas for pranks through owl post instead of in person.”

“You’re not going,” Ron insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.

Ginny snapped.  “And why not?” she demanded.  “Because you won’t have the glory of lording over me next year in school?  Because you won’t be the only one who’s so special, what with having a famous friend?”

Ron turned bright red.  “I’m not friends with Harry because he’s famous!”

“No, but you won’t deny that you like having the benefits of having a famous friend,” she said in a low voice.  “Makes you feel special now, doesn’t it?  You wouldn’t feel like the center of attention if your ickle baby sister went off to some other school.”

“You’re sure you want to go, Gin?” Percy asked worriedly.

“I do, Perce, I really do,” Ginny assured him.  “Madame Boucher’s sent me loads of information about the school; I can show it to you after dinner, if you want.”

“I’d like that very much,” he said, with an uncharacteristic look of glee on his face.

“I can’t believe this!” Ron fumed.  “Am I the only one who thinks it’s absolutely mad to send Ginny off to an unknown school when she’s so young?”  He left the table and stomped up the stairs.  When he reached his room, he slammed the door behind him so loudly they could hear the ghoul trying to match the noise level Ron was making down in the kitchen.

“Oh dear,” Molly said worriedly, before embracing her daughter in a hug.  “I’m sure he’ll come round eventually,” she added hastily, seeing tears begin to form in Ginny’s eyes.

“Er, Ginny?” Percy asked hesitantly.  “I’m stuffed, do you want to show me those papers now?”

Ginny hastily wiped her eyes as she stepped out of her mother’s warm embrace.  “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”  The two of them started up the stairs.

Fred and George could sense the tension in the kitchen as their two siblings left.

“Well, Mum,” Fred began.

“Excellent dinner, as always,” George continued.

“Absolutely smashing to see you, Dad,”

“But now we have things to do,”

“Places to be,”

“And all that jazz.”  Both of them bolted up the stairs to escape to their mercifully tensionless room.

Molly sighed and buried her face in her hands.  “I told them to behave before we got home,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Ron’s just jealous, he’ll get over it soon enough,” Arthur said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“I can only hope so,” she said, sweeping her wand over the remaining dishes.  The food began packing itself up while the dishes flew gracefully into the sink and began scrubbing themselves.