Ginnarella

Chapter Two

"Ginnnnnnny..." Hermione stood in the doorway to the room Ginny shared with fellow Gryffindors. "Are you studying again?"

Ginny glanced up at Hermione, startled out of her studious silence. "Um... yeah." She tucked her quill behind her ear absently, waiting for Hermione to state her purpose.

To her surprise, Hermione bounced into the room and flopped onto Ginny's bed, upsetting the papers and sending quills flying.

"Ginny, exams aren't for weeks and weeks and weeks." Hermione grinned at her. "You're getting worse than me!"

Ginny managed a wry smile. "Yeah, well, I want good marks this year."

"At the expense of your whole social life?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I know how important getting good grades is, Gin, but honestly, even the most studious people around here have talked to their friends in the past week."

"What?" That stung. "I've talked to my friends!" Ginny glared at her.

"I don't mean passing hellos," Hermione said, shrugging off Ginny's glare. "You're so snappy, Gin! You need to relax."

"Am not," Ginny said, crossing her arms and biting her lip. "And I do not." She swallowed hard. "Go away."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Have you even thought about the ball?"

"Ball?" Ginny asked blankly. "What ball?"

Hermione sighed loudly. "Only the ball that we have every single year at this time, Ginny!"

"Oh..." Ginny said, the fog in her brain clearing slightly. "Yeah, that ball. Um... no, haven't thought about it. Why?" She felt suspicious. "Is everyone else ready for it?"

Hermione gave her a look. "It's tomorrow night. Of course everyone else is ready for it. Ginny! I can't believe you're not prepared for it! Didn't you see the posters everywhere? The ones proclaiming, "The Prince Is Giving A Ball!" and then going on to list Dumbledore's entire name and cordially invite third years and above to attend his ball and find the love of our lives there? They were hilarious! Honestly," Hermione tutted. "I can't believe you're not ready for the ball."

Ginny felt affronted. "Well, maybe I don't want to go!"

"You're not going to go?" Hermione seemed genuinely shocked. "Why?"

Ginny was stumped. "Er..."

"Not a good enough excuse," Hermione said. "Let's get planning, Ginny. Now do you know the details of the theme?"

"No. And I don't want to go." Ginny frowned.

"Of course you do," Hermione said breezily. "Now we'll have to get you a date, of course."

"Uh?"

"And of course, figure out your mask. You did realise that it was a masked ball, didn't you?" Hermione regarded her suspiciously, before rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Ginny! I can't believe you don't know anything about the ball! What's wrong with you?"

Ginny shrugged helplessly.

Hermione sighed. "Fine. Well, it's an enchanted mask ball. I already know the spell so I can transfigure and enchant the mask for you; you just need to decide what you want to be. Have you any idea?"

Ginny had to admit that she didn't.

"Bah," Hermione muttered. Then she brightened. "How about a princess?"

Ginny shook her head. "As if all the other girls aren't going as princesses or fairies."

"Point," Hermione conceded. "Well..."

Inspiration struck Ginny. "I want to go as Cinderella."

"Oh, perfect!" Hermione said, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "Yes, I'll transfigure a stunning gown for you and you can go as Cinderella at the ball! Though don't mind about the twelve o'clock thing. Or the glass slippers, I don't know if I can transfigure glass slippers. I've never tried. Maybe I could. Hmm."

"Can't I go as Cinderella in rags?" Ginny asked plaintively, beginning to think that this was a bad idea.

"Nonsense!" Hermione exclaimed. "Now, what colour... Cinderella wore a dazzling pink gown, didn't she?"

Ginny frowned. "Pink? How do you know what colour Cinderella wore?"

"Blue?" Hermione suggested. "Yellow?"

"Green," Ginny decided. "To match..." She cut off abruptly. She was going to say, to match Harry's eyes, but that probably wasn't a good idea. For all she knew, Harry and Hermione could be dating. Ginny was so out of sync with the rest of Hogwarts. It had taken her well over a week to realise that Ron and Hermione had finally officially gotten together, ever after passing them kissing in the Common Room on no less than three occasions. It had taken her peers to be sitting there studying on the third occasion as she passed to call out to her, for her to turn and then notice! Ginny grimaced at the memory. She'd really have to pay more attention.

"Match what?" Hermione asked blankly. "Slytherin? You fancy a Slytherin boy?"

"No," Ginny said, trying not to laugh at how drastically Hermione had misinterpreted her comment. "I do not fancy a Slytherin."

"Er... good!" Hermione said cheerfully, the frown clearing from her forehead. "So you'll wear a green dress... probably not a pearly green colour; that can look cheap and nasty. I think a deep green. A sea-green, almost, but not quite because that'd look kind of odd. Unless, of course, you wanted the 'mermaid draped in seaweed' look. And your hair, what can we do with your hair... maybe braid it into a bun swept up on top of your head... or..."

Ginny tuned out Hermione's prattling. She'd sum it up and write it all down eventually, so Ginny hardly needed to listen now. Her thoughts drifted back to the musical she'd been singing along to last night. The conversation reminded her, almost comically, of the duet between Cinderella and her fairy godmother. She started to sing the lyrics softly to herself, laughing at the similarities.

"Impossible for a plain yellow pumpkin to become a golden carriage; impossible for a plain country bumpkin and a prince to join in marriage..." Ginny smiled. A prince?

"...And four white mice will never be four white horses. Such falderol and fiddle-dee-dee of course, is impossible... But the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules and don't believe what sensible people say. But because these daft and dewy eyed folks keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day!" Ginny finished exuberantly.

Hermione was looking at her, excitement shining in her eyes. "I love that musical!"

"Yeah, it's my favourite," Ginny said, her cheeks burning.

Hermione smiled, and continued the song. "Impossible!"

"Impossible!" Ginny agreed.

"Impossible," Hermione said, tilting her head to the side in mock seriousness.

"Impossible," Ginny said gravely.

"Impossible." Hermione shook her head.

"Impossible!" Ginny said.

"Impossible!" They sang together, Hermione hanging onto the last note a little longer than Ginny would have liked.

"Impossible things are happening every day... is that true, Godmother?" Ginny asked, panting as she tried to catch her breath.

"Well... yes... I suppose so... in a way..." Hermione said cheekily, playing the role of the teasing godmother perfectly.

"Then I continue to build up my impossible hope for tonight." Ginny said pompously. "And I officially wish..."

"Officially wish?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Ginny ignored her, falling further into the spell of the character's dream. "I officially wish and wish and wish all those things I said about the pumpkin and the mice and the rats!"

"Impossible!" Hermione declared.

"Just the same, I'm wishing it!" Ginny said dolefully. She broke out of character, smiling at Hermione. "Role-playing is fun."

"Sure is!" Hermione agreed cheerfully. "I used to love pretending to be an actress. And this musical has such a sweet story... Keep going, Ginny!" she urged. "I love this song!"

"It's your turn!" Ginny said, giggling. Hermione stood up dramatically.

"Impossible for a plain yellow pumpkin to become a golden carriage; impossible for a plain country bumpkin and a prince to join in marriage. And four white mice will never be four white horses!"

"They will!" Ginny interrupted, standing to join her.

"Such falderol and fiddle-dee-dee, of course, is impossible!" Hermione said. "But the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules and don't believe what sensible people say..."

"But because these daft and dewy eyed folks keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day!" Ginny joined in loudly.

"Look!" Hermione proclaimed loudly, transfiguring a loose sheet of parchment into a miniature figurine of a pumpkin coach.

Ginny giggled. "Oh, Godmother!"

"I had to do it, you wished for it so hard; I just had to do it!" Hermione said conspiratorially, with the air of someone who's just granted an extra chocolate to a naughty child.

"Oh!" Ginny squealed. "Oh, Godmother, what a beautiful dress!"

"Dress?" Hermione said blankly, falling out of character. "Oh!" She grinned, running over to Ginny's cupboard.

"No... no!" Ginny said, her eyes widening in horror as Hermione transfigured her favourite dress. "Hermione! ... It's beautiful!" She couldn't believe it. "Is it okay?"

Hermione smiled blissfully and continued to sing. "Oh, this old thing, it's eight hundred and thirty two years old."

Ginny laughed. "Oh! Where are you going?"

Hermione gave Ginny a wry glance. "Why, I'm going to take you to the ball."

Ginny pouted. "Oh... but I've nothing to wear."

Hermione laughed. "Who says you haven't? Look at yourself!" With a graceful flick of her wand, Ginny was dressed in the beautiful gown.

Ginny couldn't quite believe just how talented a witch Hermione really was. Her talent and knowledge practically rivaled that of the teachers! It was amazing. And this dress! And with just a slight flick of her wand! The Latin barely left her lips before the magic was working its... well, magic!

"Oh, how beautiful!" Ginny shivered with delight.

"Come on, now, the ball will be over before you get there!" Hermione said, pretending to tug her toward the door. Ginny resisted.

"It's possible for a plain yellow pumpkin to become a golden carriage. It's possible for a plain country bumpkin and a prince to join in marriage. And four white mice are easily turned to horses. Such falderol and fiddle-dee-dee of course, is possible," Ginny sang, her eyes shining brightly, a joy welling up inside her that she'd almost forgotten she possessed.

"But the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules," Hermione sang, wagging her finger.

"And won't believe what sensible people say," Ginny agreed, trying not to laugh.

"But because these daft and dewy eyed folks keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day!" Hermione's voice rang through the room with Ginny's.

"It's possible," Ginny said, contented, looking at her beautiful dress.

"It's possible," Hermione agreed, sinking back down onto the bed.

"It's possible," Ginny smiled, admiring herself in the full-length mirror against the wall.

"It's possible," Hermione said, admiring her own handiwork.

"It's possible."

"It's possible."

"It's possible!" They chorused together, Ginny falling back onto the bed in rapture.

"Oh, Hermione, this dress is absolutely gorgeous," she said, feeling overwhelmed. "I can't believe how good you are at transfiguring things!"

"I'm not too shabby at it," Hermione said modestly. "But--oh my god! Is that a spider?"

"Where?" Ginny shrieked.

"There!" Both girls jumped off the bed and ran for the door, squealing, before Ginny realised it was merely one of the quills that had gone flying. Giggling, the girls returned to the bed to finish discussing Ginny's plans for the ball.