Abyss by estherbraga
Hermione discussed with Ron how unreasonable the “Anti-Clothes” party (how they’ve named the anti-house elves liberation supporters) reacted. According to the brunette, they’ve played dirty. ‘Not cordial and disrespectful to all creatures’, she almost yelled. Ginny observed the commotion and still couldn’t read the verdict.
“So? You lost?”, the redhead asked naively.
“I’ve won nothing, the elves, however, can finally be free whenever they desire to. This barbaric tradition is finally over”, Hermione was appalled yet could not hide her happiness. It had been six years of persistence, pushing the house elves liberation proposal to every Ministry Department chief until eventually someone reasonable actually read it. “It’s not over, ‘though. We got to convince the beneficiaries of this measure to exercise it.”, she proudly continued, already rambling through new ideas.
“No, Mione. This is over for today. We’ve won! It’s time to celebrate! What about some drinks and a match tonight?”, Ron interrupted, hugging his girlfriend. He looked content. A childish smile covered his face and Ginny couldn’t help imitating. “You should come, Ginny. It’s not a date or anything. We’ve already invited George, and Harry”.
“Oh, Harry and Cho are gonna be there? I’m definitely coming!”, she said, poisoned with sarcasm. She wasn’t that bothered by meeting Harry anymore, but felt like it was appropriate to keep up with this performance. It was easier than starting a friendship with her ex. Their break up circumstances had been kind of messy. She just didn’t want to deal with them anymore.
“I think you should go, Ginny. For me.”, Hermione threw her arms around Ginny’s shoulder, pulling her closer.
“For the elves!”, Ron screamed, throwing his arms up in the air. That until he was punched in the gut by his girlfriend who called him out on his reckless behaviour. An “Ouch!” was heard as the poor man moaned, in pain.
“Shut up, Ron. This is a workplace, not your house!”, Hermione added, ignoring his protests.
He whimpered and gave up on chanting.
“Harry would have joined me. You’ll see, tonight we’re going to yell our brains out”.
The girls laughed whereas Ron decided to soothe himself with a slice of fruit cake, mumbling ‘buzzkillers!’ as he walked away.
Hermione told everything that happened inside the courtroom while waiting for Ron finish his snack. Behind the closed doors, the discussions had gotten pretty heated, especially when Amos Diggory dared questioning the issue's relevance. His patronising statement was the last drop to drive Ron to crazy-lane. The latter rushed to defend Hermione’s point of view and felt his rage escalade quite quickly when Percy followed the former’s lead, calling the proposal a 'dismiss to traditions'. Things would have gotten physical if Arthur Weasley’s hadn’t intervened.
“I wish I had seen it. Percy says he has changed but he’s still the same conservative arsehole. He deserved a nice kick in the ass. If I was there, I would have knocked him out”, said Ginny.
“I know you would. You are like Ron: irascible”, the brunette added casually.
It felt like forever since the last time Ginny had been called ‘irascible’ or ‘feisty’. She had no recollection of ever deserving it.
In fact, Ginny hadn’t been fighting much lately. She still had been losing, ‘though: confidence, hope and drive.
Currently, she saved her strengths to nodding and smiling. It was for the best, she figured.
It didn’t take too long until Ron and Hermione goodbyed, heading back to their respective offices. Ginny chose to enjoy the rooms’ atmosphere for a little while.
Within seconds, most of the wizards had walked way. Snippets of the hall’s floor’s drawings could be seen again as the groups parted. Peaceful contemplation inundated Ginny as she regarded the tiles’ colours and rejoiced at the deafening noise of the crowd.
A miscellanea of topics captured her attention. From malfunctioning transfigurations to counterfeit Veritaserum potions, she delved in conversations in which she did not partake. And it felt liberating.
Their cacophony rescued her from her own judgement. Finally, a breath of fresh air for a pair of lungs clogged by guilt.
She should get back to work.
Unwillingly, she hurried to her office.
When she arrived, the mail had already been laid on her desk. Nothing unusual: the Daily Prophet subscription and some work-related letters… She perused trough the envelopes until a dark green one intrigued her. It had been sealed with a serpent-ish blazon, that she recklessly ripped apart. Patience wasn’t her forte.
She hadn’t kept in touch with any Slytherin ex-student, which led her to the alarming conclusion: ‘Malfoy! Dear lord, it is Malfoy's'.
Draco’s cursive letter was like himself, elegant and old-fashioned. The message was succinctly written on expensive paper. Typical of a Malfoy to throw away money on stationery.
Dear Weasley,
In face of our last discussion, I hope you’ll accept my gift as a reminder of your talent.
Don’t overthink it. This is not another share of my debt. I’ve already paid my dues when I watched you devour that poor muffin like a starved dragon. That image will haunt me forever.
Now, deeply traumatized,
- D.M.
Ginny reread the parchment's content thoroughly. Twice. Then again.
It was a prank. Definitely, it was a prank.
She assessed the envelope with numerous protection spells. Nothing. It wasn’t hexed. She examined again the green folds and there it was, the mysterious content. No dead mouse or stinky bomb.
It was a ticket to a Holyhead Harpies vs Chudley Cannons match. Scheduled to that night.
Somehow, this happened to be a bigger disaster.
Rethinking the whole scenario, she prayed for the remote possibility of Draco offering her a single ticket. He wouldn’t be there. It was a gift, a friendly gesture, not a date. No, not a date. He wasn’t even a Harpies fan, so why would he be there?
At the end of her working hours, Ginny had come to a conclusion: she’d been avoiding the Harpies’ matches for years, what could has possibly changed now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Besides, it was a present from Malfoy. That information alone was enough to persuade her into refusing it. That was a trick. Some plan to humiliate her before her whole family.
The redhead collected her things and ran from her office to avoid talking to Hermione or any member of the Weasley clan. Easy.
Already at the Ministry's entrance hall, she could almost hear fireworks.
She had escaped!
Not really.
When Ginny pushed the revolving doors, leaving the building, she was trapped between the glassy material and Harry’s body. The proverb ‘when it rains, it pours’ came to mind.
“Hey Ginny! Is everything okay?”, Harry repeated the usual custom of hugging her tight. She returned the affection regardless the shock.
‘Shit’, she thought out loud.
“What did you say?”
“Great! I’m great! So… Are you waiting for Ron?” Ginny casually asked as a not so convinced Harry decided to move on.
“No, they’ve already left to the game. They’ve sent me to force you to come”, he replied with natural warmth, “We’re not accepting ‘no’ for an answer. Don’t worry, Cho is running some errands with her friends and won’t be with us tonight.”
Ginny let a low ‘Oh’ in agreement and gave up on passing on the invitation. She was already screwed. There was no reason denying it.
Harry lifted his forearm and Ginny threw her own around his elbow. They looked at each other tenderly, unaffected by the physical contact.
“To the game?”, he asked amusingly.
“To the game!”, Ginny added in false excitement. At that, the couple apparated to the pitch’s Portkey.
“So? You lost?”, the redhead asked naively.
“I’ve won nothing, the elves, however, can finally be free whenever they desire to. This barbaric tradition is finally over”, Hermione was appalled yet could not hide her happiness. It had been six years of persistence, pushing the house elves liberation proposal to every Ministry Department chief until eventually someone reasonable actually read it. “It’s not over, ‘though. We got to convince the beneficiaries of this measure to exercise it.”, she proudly continued, already rambling through new ideas.
“No, Mione. This is over for today. We’ve won! It’s time to celebrate! What about some drinks and a match tonight?”, Ron interrupted, hugging his girlfriend. He looked content. A childish smile covered his face and Ginny couldn’t help imitating. “You should come, Ginny. It’s not a date or anything. We’ve already invited George, and Harry”.
“Oh, Harry and Cho are gonna be there? I’m definitely coming!”, she said, poisoned with sarcasm. She wasn’t that bothered by meeting Harry anymore, but felt like it was appropriate to keep up with this performance. It was easier than starting a friendship with her ex. Their break up circumstances had been kind of messy. She just didn’t want to deal with them anymore.
“I think you should go, Ginny. For me.”, Hermione threw her arms around Ginny’s shoulder, pulling her closer.
“For the elves!”, Ron screamed, throwing his arms up in the air. That until he was punched in the gut by his girlfriend who called him out on his reckless behaviour. An “Ouch!” was heard as the poor man moaned, in pain.
“Shut up, Ron. This is a workplace, not your house!”, Hermione added, ignoring his protests.
He whimpered and gave up on chanting.
“Harry would have joined me. You’ll see, tonight we’re going to yell our brains out”.
The girls laughed whereas Ron decided to soothe himself with a slice of fruit cake, mumbling ‘buzzkillers!’ as he walked away.
Hermione told everything that happened inside the courtroom while waiting for Ron finish his snack. Behind the closed doors, the discussions had gotten pretty heated, especially when Amos Diggory dared questioning the issue's relevance. His patronising statement was the last drop to drive Ron to crazy-lane. The latter rushed to defend Hermione’s point of view and felt his rage escalade quite quickly when Percy followed the former’s lead, calling the proposal a 'dismiss to traditions'. Things would have gotten physical if Arthur Weasley’s hadn’t intervened.
“I wish I had seen it. Percy says he has changed but he’s still the same conservative arsehole. He deserved a nice kick in the ass. If I was there, I would have knocked him out”, said Ginny.
“I know you would. You are like Ron: irascible”, the brunette added casually.
It felt like forever since the last time Ginny had been called ‘irascible’ or ‘feisty’. She had no recollection of ever deserving it.
In fact, Ginny hadn’t been fighting much lately. She still had been losing, ‘though: confidence, hope and drive.
Currently, she saved her strengths to nodding and smiling. It was for the best, she figured.
It didn’t take too long until Ron and Hermione goodbyed, heading back to their respective offices. Ginny chose to enjoy the rooms’ atmosphere for a little while.
Within seconds, most of the wizards had walked way. Snippets of the hall’s floor’s drawings could be seen again as the groups parted. Peaceful contemplation inundated Ginny as she regarded the tiles’ colours and rejoiced at the deafening noise of the crowd.
A miscellanea of topics captured her attention. From malfunctioning transfigurations to counterfeit Veritaserum potions, she delved in conversations in which she did not partake. And it felt liberating.
Their cacophony rescued her from her own judgement. Finally, a breath of fresh air for a pair of lungs clogged by guilt.
She should get back to work.
Unwillingly, she hurried to her office.
When she arrived, the mail had already been laid on her desk. Nothing unusual: the Daily Prophet subscription and some work-related letters… She perused trough the envelopes until a dark green one intrigued her. It had been sealed with a serpent-ish blazon, that she recklessly ripped apart. Patience wasn’t her forte.
She hadn’t kept in touch with any Slytherin ex-student, which led her to the alarming conclusion: ‘Malfoy! Dear lord, it is Malfoy's'.
Draco’s cursive letter was like himself, elegant and old-fashioned. The message was succinctly written on expensive paper. Typical of a Malfoy to throw away money on stationery.
Dear Weasley,
In face of our last discussion, I hope you’ll accept my gift as a reminder of your talent.
Don’t overthink it. This is not another share of my debt. I’ve already paid my dues when I watched you devour that poor muffin like a starved dragon. That image will haunt me forever.
Now, deeply traumatized,
- D.M.
Ginny reread the parchment's content thoroughly. Twice. Then again.
It was a prank. Definitely, it was a prank.
She assessed the envelope with numerous protection spells. Nothing. It wasn’t hexed. She examined again the green folds and there it was, the mysterious content. No dead mouse or stinky bomb.
It was a ticket to a Holyhead Harpies vs Chudley Cannons match. Scheduled to that night.
Somehow, this happened to be a bigger disaster.
Rethinking the whole scenario, she prayed for the remote possibility of Draco offering her a single ticket. He wouldn’t be there. It was a gift, a friendly gesture, not a date. No, not a date. He wasn’t even a Harpies fan, so why would he be there?
At the end of her working hours, Ginny had come to a conclusion: she’d been avoiding the Harpies’ matches for years, what could has possibly changed now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Besides, it was a present from Malfoy. That information alone was enough to persuade her into refusing it. That was a trick. Some plan to humiliate her before her whole family.
The redhead collected her things and ran from her office to avoid talking to Hermione or any member of the Weasley clan. Easy.
Already at the Ministry's entrance hall, she could almost hear fireworks.
She had escaped!
Not really.
When Ginny pushed the revolving doors, leaving the building, she was trapped between the glassy material and Harry’s body. The proverb ‘when it rains, it pours’ came to mind.
“Hey Ginny! Is everything okay?”, Harry repeated the usual custom of hugging her tight. She returned the affection regardless the shock.
‘Shit’, she thought out loud.
“What did you say?”
“Great! I’m great! So… Are you waiting for Ron?” Ginny casually asked as a not so convinced Harry decided to move on.
“No, they’ve already left to the game. They’ve sent me to force you to come”, he replied with natural warmth, “We’re not accepting ‘no’ for an answer. Don’t worry, Cho is running some errands with her friends and won’t be with us tonight.”
Ginny let a low ‘Oh’ in agreement and gave up on passing on the invitation. She was already screwed. There was no reason denying it.
Harry lifted his forearm and Ginny threw her own around his elbow. They looked at each other tenderly, unaffected by the physical contact.
“To the game?”, he asked amusingly.
“To the game!”, Ginny added in false excitement. At that, the couple apparated to the pitch’s Portkey.
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