Ginny Weasley: Maid in Malfoy Manor

Ginny Weasley: Maid in Malfoy Manor

Chapter Two: Help Wanted

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"There's not enough dust to cloud our love for freedom."

That was what Arthur Weasley said, just before his illness took over him and he was restrained into his deathbed, contemplating on their new status of life in the wizarding world.

And that was also what Ginny was trying to get Ron to understand. But unfortunately, he would not yield from his self-depriving routine he did everyday.

He became weak and so very powerless ever since he lost his ability to see, and Ginny had spent all her remaining time to make him feel as better as possible. But even with Ginny's determination to add some sense of importance to her brother's ruined life, Ron remained unresponsive and insensitive, saying, and still believing that there was really no reason for him to live anymore.

His best friends were dead, including Hermione, his one true love, being killed right after she found out the Dark Lord's ruthless plans. She died weeks before the Great Battle itself and Ron took her death the hardest of all. He would not eat and he would lie awake at night, still thinking about her. He kept pestering Harry and the others to take great care, and at times, Ginny had to admit, he had became too fearful and obsessed about his loved ones' safety that it reached the point that he was too annoying to listen to. Time came that nobody took his opinion seriously and even Fred and George made fun of him then.

But when Harry died, his brothers either convicted or dead, and his ability to see was ripped away from him... he lost all his remaining willpower to do what was right and to keep living.

At the moment, and probably every day since he became blind, he just sat at one corner of their small quarters and stare at nothing all day long with his inactive eyes, thinking about various things and living in his own little world.

He lost his spirit the moment almost all that mattered to him disappeared in a flash and left him, but his love for the surviving ones still remained, deep in his heart, fogged by the blind frontage that life had bestowed upon him.

Ginny watched him from another corner, the clanging of cooking pots ringing in her ears. Her mother was probably cooking again, she thought, finally getting up from her uncomfortable seat and ultimately giving up on watching her brother because she already knew that it did no good whatsoever to both of them.

She entered the stunted room that served as their kitchen, and found her mother doing just what she had thought. Food was limited, yes, that was true, but that fact did not stop her mother from cooking the little rations that they could get, and turning it into sumptuous delicacies.

But something was wrong, she could tell just by looking at her mother's grim expression and her uncommonly hunched back. Because even with the problems and the regrettable poverty that they were trapped into like quick sand, Molly Weasley still kept her poise and composure through the hard times, but by just one glimpse of the plump struggling mother, Ginny could tell that something was not right.

"Mom, what's the matter?" she asked, taking her place beside the wretched woman.

Molly stopped stirring the grimy-looking soup that she was working on.

"What's with the long face? You know you can tell everything to me, Mother," she pressed. "We only got each other to take care of after all."

Molly sighed.

"Nothing's wrong, Ginny," she answered. "It's just that... somebody stopped by earlier this morning asking if... No, it doesn't matter. I had already decided."

"Decided what?" Ginny asked. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"I told you, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Come on, I know you're hiding something from me," she said. "I have every right to know!"

"Ok, fine," Molly finally gave up. "Mary Dale, Malfoy Manor's head housekeeper visited earlier, saying that they're a bit understaffed... and asked if you are interested. I already told her no."

There was a noticeable tension in the air and a beat passed by without any noise coming from either of them.

"How much is the pay?" Ginny finally asked without looking at her mother in the eye, trying to sound as casually as possible.

"Ginny, what are you saying?" she replied, rather shaken by the innocent question. "I already said no, end of discussion!"

"Mother, I'm asking you how much is the pay. Why can't you answer me?"

Molly heaved a sigh once again, and made eye contact with Ginny.

"I should have known that there's no use denying it from you," she started. "Fine, you want to know the truth... they're paying an oddly large amount of money for an extra maid. But that does not mean that--"

"I'm taking the job," Ginny cut her off somewhat forcefully, a fierce fire of determination evident in her eyes.

"No, you will not!" Molly bellowed. "This is the reason why I did not want to tell you! There is no use being a slave for those disdainful people! We can manage it by ourselves."

"But can we, Mom?" Ginny replied. "You know that I know that we are fighting for our lives here! Dad's sick and Ron's... Ron's blind! And the only people that could bring our heads above water is me and you... and we cannot survive if you take down opportunities like this! We cannot stay alive with pea soup as our main energy source, shivering in a sickening shelter like this!"

Try as she might, Molly could no longer contain the tears forming in her eyes. She let them go, unashamed of what her daughter would think.

"I just couldn't bear to imagine you serving those arrogant imbeciles! We are better than them, Ginny, and being their... their maid, would be suicide! Do you have any idea what I'm feeling right now? I just don't want you to suffer."

"Mom, please... stop," Ginny hugged her crying mother, the usual act of the mother protecting her daughter momentarily reversed. "I'm no happier to do this than you are... but just remember, I'm doing this for you. For all of you. Please mom, just let me--"

"Pack your things," Molly curtly and somewhat coldly said, pushing Ginny away and facing the other way. "I'm going to owl Mary."