Honeydukes' Best Chocolate

Ginny Weasley sat at the back of the Leaky Cauldron, her shoulder-length fiery red hair half-covering her face, her brown eyes narrowed in thought. Her new robes hung loosely on her thin frame, and she held a small cup, one that could be identified as a shot-glass, in her hands, a small amount of brown liquid in it. It was a normal sight to see, one that happened every week on Friday with frightening regularity. Her brothers, though they hung around her as though guarding a precious treasure, seemed to have no idea of her weekly shot of whiskey at the local Wizard bar.

One would have never pegged Ginny Weasley as a drinker, although had one asked, she would have been confused first, and loudly and vehemently denying it the next. Not that Ginny really was a drinker… She definitely wasn’t a drunk after all. However, she found that she needed a little alcohol to blur her mind after a whole week at the Burrow. After five years out of school, she still hadn’t moved out… Not that her family really would have jumped at the chance. She was quiet, she helped out around the house, and she made a good test-person for Fred and George.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to.

And just because she wanted to, didn’t mean she would.

She was, still, after everything, perfect little Ginny. She was her family’s gem, and she doubted she would ever marry anyone, and that if she did, it would be someone completely respectable, dependable, chosen by all of her brothers, and…

Completely.

Utterly.

BORING.

Neville, her first boyfriend, only semi-serious relationship, and the only person she had ever kissed, had been boring. The poor boy twittered on and on and on about Herbology, which, Ginny supposed, would have been fascinating had she had the slightest real interest in the subject beyond understanding it well enough to get out of it with a passing grade. He had been utterly boring, and she had dreaded their dates almost as much as she had…

Well, simply put, she couldn’t find anything to compare it to.

It was because of Neville, and Ron, and all the rest of her brothers that she was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron on a Friday night, alone, nursing her one and only shot of whiskey. It was getting to become a habit with her, just to get away. Her brothers probably assumed she was in her room, doing whatever she did with her time… And what did she do, anyway? She didn’t know. She read sometimes, she helped her mother with the cleaning, but, as always… she didn’t have anything to do. She had no job to speak of, had no idea what she would do if she could…

And it wasn’t as though it were entirely her fault. Her mother had assumed that she would get married right out of Hogwarts, like she had, and go on to have lots of babies and spend her days housekeeping for her husband. And Ginny had actually looked forward to that, at least as long as she had assumed—not to mention hoped—that husband would be Harry. But after her fifth year, she had no idea what her life would be like. She couldn’t imagine what she could do, as she knew she would never get over him. She would never get over the Boy Who Lived, no matter that she knew she had no chance with him anymore.

Harry was married, with a two-year-old son. He was married to the girl he’d loved—or at least had a crush on—for a good six or seven years by now. Ron and Hermione, believe it or not, were still dancing around each other, both not able to date anyone else and yet also not able to date each other. Fred, George, and Bill were all married as well, and Percy seemed to be getting close to tying the knot with his long-time girlfriend, Natalie McDonald, a Gryffindor who had been two years below Ginny at Hogwarts.

Ginny shook her head, the lines around her eyes softening as she sighed, staring again at her drink. She didn’t always drink it, and tonight seemed to be one of those nights. All she really wanted to do was think, and that was what she was doing. She’d wondered, multiple times, why she still lived at home. Why she didn’t have a job. Why she didn’t have any plans for the future. Why she was still living off her parents. Her father was the Minister of Magic, Percy seemed ready to take over whenever their father got sick of it, Ron seemed to be right behind the two of them, although he was concentrated in the Department of Magical Sports and Games, Fred and George had their joke shop, Bill had his charms, curses and his wife, Charlie had his dragons, and she had…

She had nothing. She had nothing to live for, nothing to do even… Was it any wonder she sat here in the Leaky Cauldron, week after week, nursing the same shot of whiskey until it was as flat as the chair she was sitting on? Nothing changed. It was always the same. The same table, the same drink, the same reasons for wanting the drink… Would it ever change? Would the monotonousness that was her life ever just stop?

With a frustrated sigh, Ginny stood up, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and pushing the oak chair under the worn table, keeping her eyes down. A few unsavory characters were in the pub at the moment, and she wasn’t particularly keen on meeting their eyes. She stopped off at the bar to pay for the whiskey she’d never gotten around to drinking, and nodded at Tom’s warning to be careful. “You can always use the Floo in the back room,” he suggested, his old eyes narrowing worriedly.

Ginny smiled, “I’ll be fine. It’s just a small walk. I just… need a breath of fresh air, is all.”

Tom nodded morosely, going back to the dishes he had been wiping when she came up. Ginny turned to go, but just as she did the Daily Prophet caught her eye. “The Green-Caped Wonder Strikes Again!” screamed the headline, a sketch of a man being the main focus. He was dressed in a green robe, silver lining barely visible. The artist was extremely talented, Ginny noted. There wasn’t much detail on the face, other than the green and silver mask that covered it and the nose that seemed almost aristocratic. There was no hint of his eye-color or his hair-color, and although from the sketch you couldn’t tell, she would guess he was tall. After admiring the sketch for a few minutes, Ginny reluctantly looked back at the article.

Special to the Prophet by Nina Robertson

Just this morning, the Green-Caped Wonder, as he has been dubbed by the press, struck again. A small Wizarding home near Surrey was nearly torn down to the ground by a Resondium spell, stopped by an unknown source. His motives are extremely debated, as some argue that the Green-Caped Wonder was the unknown source, while others argue that his was the wand the spell originated from in the first place.

The Green-Caped Wonder first surfaced nearly six years ago, right after a Death Eater attack on the well-known Muggles Drs. Edward and Lillian Granger, parents of Dr. Hermione Granger, Charms specialist at the Ministry. Since then he has been spotted at crime scenes, allegedly helping the victims and stopping the attackers. However, as he has never been spoken to by a member of the press, his motives are still unsure of. Continued on page five.

Ginny shook her head. She remembered when the “Green-Caped Wonder” had first appeared. It actually hadn’t been all that long before Draco Malfoy’s disappearance from the Wizarding world. Ginny wondered idly whether the GCW (as she called him) had killed him. She supposed she wouldn’t much mind—Malfoy had been a prat and a bastard to her through all her years at Hogwarts after all. Then again, Colin Creevey had also disappeared around that time...

She was a firm believer that the GCW was responsible for Hermione’s parents still being alive, as did most of her family. Throughout the years he—as they had figured out that the GCW was a he—had saved countless lives, though most of the officials at the Ministry didn’t quite believe it.

Again, she shook her head, pushing the paper back to where it had first caught her eye. Honestly; she didn’t believe in fairy tales. That really was all the GCW was—a fairy-tale. Or one of those Muggle super-heroes Hermione had attempted to tell her about at one point. And even though she knew that the GCW was a “good guy,” she still didn’t believe in him much. He was one of those things that didn’t seem all that real. Just someone who was real in books or plays.

Ginny sighed, stuffing her hands in her pockets and walking out the door of the Leaky Cauldron, her eyes on the ground. She didn’t really want to be out and about in Muggle London at this time of night on a Friday, but she didn’t want to face everyone in Diagon Alley, either. What with her father being the Minister of Magic, she was constantly hounded by reporters and, well, avoided by the rest of the population. She didn’t want to be stared at. She just wanted to be normal.

Walking quickly down the street, she saw a small restaurant up ahead. Its white lights twinkled against the other-wise dark street, and it looked rather down-trodden and unkempt. She would aim for that, she supposed, and then turn around and go back to the pub. She just needed a breath of fresh air; that was it.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” a silky voice asked from her left.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, her heart dropping to the ground. Oh dear lords and ladies. She looked to the left, gulping silently. A large, burly man was leering at her, his mustache curling around his thin lips, his beady eyes staring out at her from beneath folds of skin. She shivered involuntarily, glancing around. Oh dear. There were more than one of them—two others, in fact. The other two were both to her right. At least they weren’t as large as the other man. One was actually rather short and wiry, brown-haired and wearing glasses that only seemed to enhance the blue of his eyes. The other was of medium height, his long black hair in a ponytail.

It was then she noticed they were wearing robes.

Robes that only Wizards wore.

That could not be good.

Ginny knew that she could probably handle them had they been Muggles, if only because then she could use magic against them, magic that they would not expect. But if they were Wizards… They would definitely expect it. They would count on it.

“Seems to me,” the small, wiry one said, his blue eyes glittering at the look of terror on Ginny’s face, “that we have the daughter of the Minister of Magic, all alone in Muggle London.” “And what kind of a reward would they give us for bring her back, do you think?” the black-haired one asked, his eyebrows raised at the large, burly man on her left.

“Oh, I’d say at least a hundred thousand galleons…” the man replied, reaching out to run a hand along Ginny’s shoulder. She jumped at the touch, ready to go into hysterics if he did it again. “Wouldn’t you, my pretty?” he asked. “And we can have fun before we bring her back, can’t we then?”

“Oh, yes…” the small one agreed, brushing back his brown hair. “And I’m sure it will be a lot of fun, don’t you? Ginny Weasley, isn’t it? Well, Miss Weasley, have you ever had fun?” His grin widened. “I’ll bet you haven’t. Well, all the more fun for us…”

Ginny bit her lip, attempting not to panic. Panicking at this point would do no good whatsoever. Panicking at this point would be very, very bad. But she couldn’t seem to accept the fact, and knew that if something didn’t happen fast, she was going to go into hysterics.

Amazingly enough, that something did happen. A sudden curse, yelled from somewhere behind Ginny, dropped the two men on her right to the ground like stones, and the one on her left looked confused, giving whoever had shouted the first curse time to throw a second at the burly man. He, too, dropped like a stone. Ginny collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down her face. She curled up into a fetal ball, sobbing. She had just been about to be raped for the gods’ sakes!

A soft, slow stroking of her back finally caught her attention, and she realized she was being cradled in the arms of her savior. She gave a choked laugh. She always needed to be saved though, didn’t she? Never could do a blasted thing for herself… She started sobbing again, and when she’d finally quieted down, the mystery man—as she assumed he was a man—was stroking her hair, whispering, “Shh,” into her ear at intervals.

“I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, not wanting to get up, but knowing she needed to. She opened her eyes, and was shocked to find herself starting at the Green-Caped Wonder. “You!” she gasped, shocked.

A small smirk graced the man’s features. “Yes, I should hope it was me,” he said, his voice playful. Funny how familiar it seemed, and yet at the same time so…not. “I honestly don’t know who I would be rather than myself, but who really knows?”

Ginny stared at him, shocked. “Who are you?” she asked abruptly.

The man tilted his head, staring at her. “You know me,” he said simply, “and I know you.”

Ginny shook her head, slowly standing up. The man rose to his feet with a cat-like grace that she had to envy. “How utterly annoying,” she muttered. She really did want to know who he was. It was one of the things that had befuddled the Wizarding world for that past six years… Plus there was the fact that he had just saved her from a fate worse than death, at least in her mind. “Thank you,” she said, looking into his eyes. She couldn’t tell what color they were, not with the mask he was wearing. She supposed he had done that on purpose.

The man shrugged, “It’s what I do.”

“Yes, well,” she said haltingly. Then she darted forward, pressing her lips to his quickly, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders before pulling away. “Thank you,” she whispered, stepping away, her hands coming to rest at her sides again.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, sincerely. And with that, he turned away, walking toward the restaurant Ginny had been aiming for earlier.

And then she blinked…

And he was gone.