Chapter 5

Ginny flung the door to her dormitory room open as she made a beeline to her soft bed. It was mid-August and the cooling charms cast around the palace were weakest near the dormitories so she was sweltering in her school robes.  Ginny had just finished taking her Arthimancy and Pre-Calculus final exams, the last for the semester.  Remembering the torturous conversation she had with Olga the previous day where the other girl wanted to go over every answer on the Chemistry exam, she lazily lifted her wand and shot a locking charm at the door.  Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of her face, her thoughts turned to the one thing every fifth year dreaded: career proposals.

L’Academie des Sorceries prided itself on the very unique program it offered for the older girls.  After five years of comprehensive study, each student was required to pick a career path and their sixth through tenth years were spent honing skills needed for them to excel in that field.  Unfortunately, choosing a career path was not so simple as declaring what they wanted to study.   On the day after exams each fifth year was required to make an appeal in front of all the professors as to why they choose this particular path and how their current grades indicated that they would help their success.  Ginny was slated to go from 13:00 to 14:00, right after lunch.

Ginny had an unusual request for further study that was unique, creative, and one she could easily excel at.  She only hoped that she could argue her case strongly enough that it would be accepted to receive the professors approval.  She had loved Quidditch since she was a little girl, constantly begging her brothers to play with her, and had long ago convinced Madame Boucher that she functioned best if she was allowed to let excess energy through flying.  Madame Schulz, the languages professor, had apparently been quite a flyer in her day, so she took Ginny into Paris to buy her a new broom.  After getting over the shock of having a new broom, let alone one of the fastest ones on the market, the two met on Monday and Thursday evenings to go flying over the grounds after dinner.  Ginny was getting quite good, literally flying circles around Madame Schulz, and wanted to pursue a career in Quidditch.  However, she knew that this was an impractical lifetime career choice since she would likely be retiring within ten years of the start of her career, barring any injuries.  She had met a friend of her fathers, Ludo Bagman, who had been a Quidditch star in his youth, but his image became more ludicrous the longer he tried to cling to it.  She clearly didn’t want that to happen so she tried in vain to think of other career options that might interest her.

A few months later, she had a stroke of brilliance.  She loved Quidditch, but she also loved clothes.  More specifically, she was slightly annoyed every year when they went out to buy clothes.  Muggle clothes were often cheaper than Wizarding robes, particularly when there was a good exchange rate between Wizarding coinage and the funny paper Muggles used.  At school, all the girls were required to wear robes.  Purchasing Muggle clothing was not an option.  While Ginny appreciated the high quality and the designer names attached to her robes, she never even bothered to pack any when she went home during the Christmas breaks.  Once she was home, she’d quickly slip into her brother’s tattered hand-me-down jeans and t-shirts.  Ginny was the first to admit that the loose, flowing robes were more comfortable in the dead of summer, but jeans and pants were much warmer in the winter.  She really wished the Muggle pant trend would catch on while she was flying because they guaranteed that her knickers would never be visible to the entire world.

Unfortunately, there was a little problem with her plan.  Only the very poor in the Wizarding world ventured into the Muggle world for clothing so there was an associated stigma with Muggle fashions.  While witches had adopted somewhat more modern styles (only a couple of centuries old in the Muggle world) wizards were still clinging to fashions that had been out of date for over a millennia.  Ginny was hopeful that since styles had been updated successfully at some point in time it could be done again.  If she could slowly begin to integrate modern Muggle styles in with Wizarding clothing, it should be eventually accepted.  Surely she wasn’t the only one in their world that had this same thought process.

Heaving a great sigh, Ginny pulled herself off the bed with a Herculean effort and slowly peeled off her uniform robes in favor of a light nightgown.  I’ll think more clearly in the morning once I’ve gotten sleep, food, and caffeine into my system, she admitted to herself tiredly as she slowly plaited her hair.  She flicked her wand at the window, causing the drapes to snap shut, and gave another twist towards her bookcase, sending a book soaring towards her, feebly fanning her face.  Placing her wand on her nightstand, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

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Shortly after Ginny had seated herself at one of the round tables in the dining hall, she spotted her best friend, Lena, plodding towards her.  She had presented her appeal to become a magical chef to the professors from 11:00 to 12:00, right before lunch.  Reaching the table, she slumped into the open chair next to Ginny.

“That bad?” Ginny asked sympathetically.

“Well, I think I did alright,” Lena sighed as she buttered a roll.  “I emphasized my grades in potions and transfiguration and they seemed satisfied with that.”  She promptly tossed the entire roll into her mouth at once.  “I shu’nt ev ‘ipd bkefst,” she said through a mouthful of roll.

“Lena, that’s disgusting, you’re reminding me of Ron,” Ginny informed her primly, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Sorry,” she said, shrugging unapologetically.  “Eat up, I skipped breakfast and that was the hardest part of my presentation.  You should have seen Madame Mancini: I thought for sure she’d have a stroke every time my stomach grumbled.”

Ginny laughed at the thought of their strict etiquette teacher.  Poor Lena always came in last in their class for etiquette lessons.

“Well?  How’d the rest of it go?”

Lena shrugged again.  “Not too rough.  I didn’t bother preparing a speech like Olga did.  She was right before me, you know, and she looked ghastly coming out.”  Ginny chuckled again, thinking of the obnoxious perfectionist.  “Just know your argument and wing it, that’s what I did.”

Ginny sighed and wrung her hands in her lap, resisting the temptation to rest her head on the table.  Madame Mancini had all but given up on Lena but if both girls started blatantly ignoring the lessons she had drilled into their heads she would be sure to swoop down on them.  “I’m just not sure how confident I am about presenting both ideas,” she lamented.

“Then don’t,” Lena said bluntly, viciously hacking a piece of steak to bits.  “It’s not too late to pick one or the other.”

Ginny groaned.  “How many times must I tell you that I couldn’t forgive myself if I only picked one?  I’m a damn good flyer, you’ve seen me, and I’m not about to let that go to waste and live with the regret for the rest of my life.  At the same time, I will live a life full of regrets if I’m stuck being one of those old fuddy-duddies who can only live in the glory days of their youth and refuse to accept the fact that they are decades off their prime.”

“That’s exactly what you need to say!  Just stretch it out for an hour or so,” Lena beamed at Ginny.  Ginny gave her friend an exhausted look before pushing her plate towards the center of the table.  “Oh no you don’t,” Lena said hurriedly, whipping out her wand and flicking it towards Ginny, forcing her to sit upright.  “You are not making the same mistake I did, now eat up!”

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Ginny felt that proposing her idea after lunch was a mixed blessing.  She was able to acquaint herself with the room itself before all the professors arrived but her anxious queasiness was not helped in the least by lunch.  The fact that Lena channeled Mrs. Weasley’s spirit during lunch and force-fed her nearly twice as much food as she could eat was certainly only made her queasiness worse.  She conjured a flowerpot to discretely place next to the podium in case her stomach decided to rebel during her appeal.  She tucked it under her arm and approached the door, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her door before turning the knob.

The presentation room, to her great surprise, was clearly younger than the rest of the palace.  It was shaped in a semi-circle with a vaulted ceiling whose peak was flush with the wall connecting it to the palace.  She counted eleven lofty windows with large panes of glass and hearing her muted footsteps, she glanced down to see that the flooring was aged planks of wood, rather than the cold marble tiles present in the main areas of the palace.  Glancing at the heavy wooden podium at the center of the room, she placed the flowerpot discretely out of view as she examined the room further.

There were no desks or tables, as she had expected, to separate her from the professors.  A line of old fashioned armchairs followed the curve of the room.  While they did not look immediately out of place or ostentatious in the room, Ginny’s eye quickly caught onto the expensive, intricate charms that had been interwoven into the furniture.  The wood remained dark with a high shine that would not be otherwise possible with the amount of light they were exposed to.  The dark purple velvet showed no signs of crushing, fading, or other signs of age.  She had only heard of these types of charms in her readings to prepare her for this presentation, never had she seen them in person.

After her eyes had given the perimeter of the room one last scan, she glanced at her watch and noted that she had five minutes before the professors would arrive.  She quickly transfigured the podium into a full length mirror to give one last check of her appearance.  What good would it do to look a mess while proclaiming one of her goals in life was to revolutionize the fashion industry?

Brushing back a few strands of hair and straightening her robes one last time, she transfigured the mirror back to its original form moments before she heard pops of Apparition as the professors appeared before their apparently designated armchair.  Ginny was envious: the students and the families of the professors were required to walk throughout the large palace, but the wards were specifically tuned to allow professors to apparate from place to place inside both the palace and the extensive grounds.

“We are here at the fourteenth hour of the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the year nineteen-ninety-seven to hear Ginevra Molly Weasley’s plans for her future,” stated the soft voice of the headmistress, which instantly silenced any sounds in the room.  “Please enlighten us, Ms. Weasley.”

Ginny nervously wet her lips and threw a glance at the flowerpot before she began.  “I wish to follow in the same manner as few others who have attended this prestigious school have.  I have not one, but two plans I wish to present.”  Several professors let out small gasps of surprise, but the headmistress gracefully gestured with a lined hand for Ginny to continue.  “As many of you know, Madame Schulz has taken me flying twice a week since my first year.  My love of flying along with my skill has only increased as the years have passed.  Unfortunately, much of flying and the competitive sports world is reliant on youth, which I will not possess forever.  Once I leave the world of professional flying, I would like to enter the world of fashion.  To be more specific, I would like to gradually begin to incorporate Muggle ideas into Wizarding fashion, which quite frankly, is centuries behind what is found in the Muggle world.”

There was a flurry of whispers and movements throughout the room as the professors were clearly surprised at the two vastly different careers.

“Silence, please,” the Headmistress commanded softly, causing all whispers and rustling to cease immediately.  “You do realize, Ginevra, the great responsibility that comes with two career paths?  You will have nearly double the classes as your peers.”

Ginny nodded.  “Yes, Madame, I do.”

“Very well then,” the Headmistress responded, inclining her head.  “Please continue with your argument.” 

”Well, as I just said, I’m getting quite good at flying.  I understand the limitations of why the school cannot have a Quidditch team, however I do play it at home with my brothers.”  Many of the professors nodded knowingly at this, having participated in backyard games of Quidditch or Shuntbumps as children.  “It’s possible that I’m getting ahead of myself, but I am able to keep up with my brothers, nearly all of whom have played competitively at Hogwarts.”

“How do you know they aren’t simply going easy on you, their younger sister?”  Madame Miller, the Transfiguration professor, asked.

Ginny smiled.  “My brothers were expecting and training me to play for my house team at Hogwarts before I came here,” she explained.  “My brother Bill taught me many tricks to make sure I don’t lose the Quaffle, Charlie taught me how to keep my eyes out for the Snitch while staying out of everyone’s way, and my brothers Fred and George taught me how to avoid Bludgers, even when I’m distracted.  I’ll admit that I’m not quite as good as Charlie was at Seeking, but he was offered several professional positions at the end of his sixth year.”

“As you mentioned before, the school does not have a Quidditch team, how do you plan on practicing?  I’m sure that all the charms in the world placed on the equipment would not simulate the same environment that a competitive team could provide,” Madame Schulz pointed out.

“I’ve given that thought as well and I’ve discovered that there is an amateur league nearby, The Bluebirds.  With the permission of the school, I would like to join them to gain competitive experience.”

“That can be arranged,” the Headmistress acknowledged.  “Let us move onto your second career choice, fashion design.  You do realize that your ideas are quite risky?”

“Yes, Madame, I do,” Ginny acknowledged firmly.  “However, I feel that I could create great changes in the world should my idea succeed.  Even if it does not progress as far as I’d like, I still think I will have made a large, valuable impact on the world.”

A large, genuine smile graced the Headmistress’s lined face, the first Ginny had seen in the nearly six years she had attended the school.  “That, my dear Ginevra, is precisely what we hope for from all our students,” she said so softly Ginny had to lean in to hear her.  “Now, why don’t you tell us what it is that you want to accomplish…”

Ginny spent the next forty-five minutes answering questions about her two career choices, growing more confident with each new question and every passing minute that allowed her lunch to digest.  She practically skipped out of the room when she was dismissed and promptly bumped into Lena.

“Well, how’d it go?” she demanded.

“Splendidly,” Ginny answered with a grin.  “I really think that they’ll approve it.  But what are you doing down here?  We get to go home at 7 AM tomorrow!  We need to pack!”

Lena made a face.  “I’m going to bribe a house-elf into doing it this year, honestly. I just want to sit on my bed and watch the ceiling until it’s time to leave.”

Lena’s eldest brother had married a Muggleborn witch who had introduced her to something called television two years ago.  She became enthralled by it and had invented a charm that would morph the grains in her wooden ceiling to her books while her books read themselves aloud.  She claimed that it was nothing like the real thing but would have to do while she was at school.  Ginny absolutely loved watching some of the tales with her.

“That sounds wonderful but I don’t feel like getting in trouble for bribing the house elves,” Ginny sighed.  “I might join you after I finish packing.”

“Great!” Lena beamed at her friend.  “Hurry up, I’ll make spiced pumpkin juice!”

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After spending the night drinking spiced pumpkin juice and watching Pride and Prejudice on Lena’s ceiling, Ginny blearily wiped her eyes and hurried back into her room, moments before Madame Boucher came in and handed her a pair of socks.

“Here you are Ginevra,” she said holding out the socks.  “The one with the green toe will bring you home in –“ she paused to check her watch, “72 seconds.  The sock with the blue toe will bring you back here at 14:00 on September 14.  Make sure you tell your mother I said hello!”

“Thank you and I will,” Ginny promised, taking the proffered socks and sat on her trunk.  “Have a good break, Madame!”

A minute later she felt the familiar tug of the Portkey and after swirling around for another minute, she landed in the kitchen of the Burrow.

“Ginny!” her mother’s excited cry came as she was engulfed in a tight hug.  “How are you?!  Oh stand up and let me look at you properly.  That robe looks absolutely lovely on you!  The Gryffindor in me never would let me buy green robes but that light shade goes lovely with your hair.  Yes, you’re sprouting like a beanstalk just as your brothers did and I’m sure that school feeds you even less than Hogwarts.  Sit down, I’ve made eggs and sausages for breakfast.”

This is home, Ginny thought happily as her mother began fussing over her and piling her plate with food.