Current location:	Under my laptop.
Current mood:	accomplished

The Ginny Project.1 — Of Letters and Newspaper
The first entry to the Ginny Project, written by me, matt_writer, and betaed by my friend potterfreak0515. Many, many thanks to her and her nitpicking. :)

The Ginny Project: Entry 1
Of Letters and Newspaper

~ In which our hero writes letters, reads the newspaper, eats cake, thinks about middle-aged men’s sexuality, ignores cake ~



Letter 1:



Letter 2:



Letter 3:



Ginny put down her quill and smiled in the dark.

‘Hurry up, little birds,’ she said to her owls in an airy tone.

Four sinister shapes flew into the night sky, fearing their master’s rage and heated iron. Ginny looked at them obliquely through the windowpane, her vision distorted by the thick glass. The owls glanced at her repeatedly over their shoulders, flying so hastily that the mass of feathers they lost partially screened Ginny’s view of the apartment across the street.

The leftmost one was going to see Harry.

The one right to the leftmost one was going to put Baldy’s letter in his mailbox.

The one right to the one to the right to the leftmost one – meaning, the one left to the rightmost one – was to put its parchment in the box on Toothy’s counter – the place where he kept his collection of used toothbrushes, consequently earning him an odd nickname.

And the last one, the right one, was answering Cho’s letter.

Cho. Oh, Cho, the infinite problem of betrayals, heterosexuality and hairy transactions, the goddess in flesh and blood seeking vengeance, whether or not death is to follow. The girl, in short, who had sent an angry letter to Ginny a little while ago.

And such letters are not to be allowed. Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the Hot One, the Cause of Global Warming, was… No, it couldn’t be…

Ginny started to pace up and down her flat’s bedroom. She didn’t care anymore to check to see if the owls followed her commands. They would.

Because something wasn’t right… All was not, in fact, well, as had so naïvely suggested Harry the day after Voldemort’s death, three months ago. Death Eaters were being rounded up, sure, but the ones who had been affected most by this war still suffered. The misery would not cease…

It was broken friendships, no, broken relationships, and now, jealous girls who sent Ginny angry letters. She had a drawer full of those. And she had said just that to Cho. Accompanied by two or three swears, naturally.

Although… Cho could have meant something completely different. She had not said much in her letter, and it practically seemed as though it was… coded? Yes, that must be it, thought Ginny, glancing once again at the piece of parchment.

There was the ink, of course, which was black. Could that refer to the night? To Cho’s hair colour? Harry’s hair colour? Hum… Well, there was also… wait a second… what was that odd symbol? Ginny frowned and stared at it for quite some time.

‘Oh, right,’ she said to herself, her voice cracking from lack of use. ‘That’s an “H”.’

Putting her Problem of Cho aside, Ginny decided to read today’s paper. It might have been four in the morning, but ex-Order members, or the close equivalent to that… or Harry’s girlfriend, got their copies as soon as they were printed.

It was because Harry had thought it would be better for their relationship to move out a mere two days after having settled in that Ginny had figured out by herself, like a Big Girl, that reading the newspaper would be a good idea to be aware of the most recent events. You know, things such as having a new Minister. Of course, she knew perfectly well that Kingsley was their current Minister for Magic, but he was only temporary. And albeit the election of another candidate wouldn’t majorly affect her life, Ginny liked the idea of having knowledge some others maybe didn’t have. Plus, she hated the idea of lacking knowledge some others maybe had.

Thus, it is safe to assume that if she was reading the newspaper, it was only for show.

Since Ginny had never read the newspaper before, she was a bit scared as she crept towards the kitchen table, the light from her wand creating moving shadows on the walls. As she turned it over, she gasped as she saw the enormous picture occupying most of the front page.



Ginny took the newspaper and hurriedly Apparated to the Burrow, where she was unfortunate enough to see her own mother.

‘Oh, no,’ mumbled Ginny.

The room was completely dark; Molly was sitting on the edge of the sofa, knitting rapidly, eyes opened broadly. The sight was a bit unsettling.

‘Child, you have come back.’

Ginny backed away. She was now inside the chimney.

‘Here,’ continued Molly in a hollow voice. ‘Have some… cake.’

She took some out of her trousers’ pockets.



‘It is homemade and delicious. I’m sorry to say that since you left the house, I haven’t been cooking as… much, so it’s a bit old, but it’ll do. Take it, now, don’t be scared…’

Molly, who had walked up to Ginny and was now inside the chimney with her, started stuffing the cake in her mouth.

‘Eat, girlie, eat.’

Ginny swallowed.

‘It is good for you. You don’t look too healthy. You are skinny. Is it anorexia? Is it bulimia? Is Harry underfeeding you? I hope his income’s good! Do you work? You should have a job! I don’t want you to do nothing all day long! We Weasley women could – should – rule the world!’

Ginny’s eyes widened; she could feel her brain becoming more and more disturbed by the second. Molly had pushed her against the back of the chimney and continued feeding her the dry angel food cake, a hand on her shoulder.

‘You eat, you eat. Have you not consumed anything in the past days? I, for one, have no company; Arthur’s always gone at the Ministry, working and working. I do nothing all day, I have no polish left to shine our Galleon, I am lonely, I don’t—’

‘Molly,’ managed to say Ginny after swallowing once again.

Molly seemed slightly taken aback, as if surprised that there was someone else with her.

‘What the hell’s wrong? And Harry’s moved out some days ago.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear,’ said Molly sweetly. ‘But there is no need for such language, young lady. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with me, except… except…’

Molly turned her tormented gaze towards the ceiling.

‘He came here, didn’t seem to know where he was,’ she whispered. ‘I had no choice… Had to let him in… give him food… But he seems to think himself better than everyone else. And quite a lazy man, he is. Go upstairs and… see for yourself.’

Ginny left the Prophet in Molly’s hands and started climbing up the stairs, opening doors as they went by. None of them seemed to have concealed anything important, but as she looked inside the fourth room, she saw the back and hair – loads of the latter – of a man sleeping in Percy’s old bed. He was snoring lightly.

‘Sirius?’ called Ginny.

Sirius jumped.

‘What now, Mol— Oh, hi Ginny. Long time no see.’

‘Yeah, I just heard about you escaping from the veil. That’s good news, I guess.’

Sirius looked very insulted. He opened his jaw to reply but stopped to listen to the sudden noises downstairs. Ginny and he heard a man yell, ‘Just tell me if Sirius’s here or not, dam—’

‘All right, all right!’ interrupted an old woman. ‘He’s upstairs, second door on your right, dear.’

Ginny moved aside to let Remus burst in.

‘Padfoot,’ he croaked. It was obvious that he could not believe his eyes.

Sirius smiled, opening his arms.

‘That’s me! Come on, Moony, don’t look so surprised. Of course I’d come back. It did take me some time, but—’

This time, it was Remus’s turn to interrupt, and he did so by kissing Sirius. Fervently. Enthusiastically. Passionately. Ginny stared. Boy, that’s sexy, she thought to herself. I wish Harry and Toothy were gay. That way I’d still have Baldy for me, and all the free porn I want.

Sirius and Remus started whispering to each other like long lost lovers. ‘Who would’ve thought?’ Ginny told herself. ‘Well, I guess we can all give them credit for hiding it very well. Everyone thought Sirius was as straight as a toothpick whilst Remus was either asexual or just sick of girls because Tonks was so in his face all the time.’

As the muttering was rather uninteresting, despite the fact that it contained many swift kisses, Ginny went to the kitchen and sat at the table. She was very tired. Molly laid one of her house-famous seven-pound cheesecakes in front of her.

‘I hope,’ she said, ‘you remember that your courses at the Ministry will be starting this Monday?’

‘Of course,’ said Ginny, trying not to look at the cheesecake, for Molly had already given her enough of the angel one and her stomach was as full as it had ever wanted to be, and her ‘Don’t Eat Too Much: A Plan For Good Looks’ arrangement was really going down the drain as it was. ‘So… which ones am I taking again?’

‘Which one, you mean,’ corrected Molly. ‘You’ll be working with perfumes, remember? Oh, sweetie, I’m so proud of you! You’re doing so much better than all the others. Take Ron, for instance. His average is only “A” in all of the six courses he’s taking. Oh, such a disappointment.’

‘Perfumes?’ repeated Ginny, ignoring the comments about Ron. ‘Oh, right.’ And why the hell did I take that stupid course? she added to herself. Well, I guess I could make Harry some good cologne or something like that. Baldy’s deodorant, or lack thereof, isn’t that good, either. But still, who wants to work with perfumes for their whole life? I guess I can always just marry Harry so I won’t have to work since he’s so rich, anyway. Well, yeah. That’s a good plan.

In fact, she added as an afterthought, I should propose to him tomorrow night.





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