This is a parody, and we realize that as such many of our depictions of J. K.
Rowling's characters are OoC, or are at best stretched very finely. That
said, we do not own any of the characters, settings, or anything else even remotely
connected to the Harry Potter Universe created by J. K. Rowling, nor are we
making any money from this work. We DO thank JKR for allowing us to play
seriously in, as well as parody, her world. All other OCs--Abby Loomis,
Alex Lennox, Errol Klarion, Viviane Chance and Malheureuse, and the fanfic
Queenie Greengrass--appear with the full permission of their creators.
Authors’ Note: The
Murderous Hussies’ Manifesto
We are the Murderous
Hussies, a cabal of literary witches armed with steel-trap minds and freshly
sharpened Fwooper quills. One day we made a momentous discovery…
Sweet, shy, freckle-faced
Ginny Weasley had been abducted – whether by Narcissa Malfoy, Wormtail,
Voldemort himself, we are not quite sure – and replaced by a monster.
We’re talking FANON GINNY
here. You know the one – that titian-tressed, ivory-skinned, freckle-free, True
Seer, Wielder of Untold Magical Powers, Feisty Redhead! The sassy spitfire with
the cayenne/cinnamon/paprika mane of cascading waves who pines for her hero,
Harry the Magnificent. (Sometimes she’s paired with Draco, but that’s another
The Murderous Hussies were
resolved that this spawn of the Dark Lord, this minion of evil, this
carnelian-haired, alabaster-complected spitfire of doom, Had To Be Eliminated.
We, being clever hussies and armed with the Loom of Abby and the Sword of
Viviane (among many other weapons) resolved to eliminate this blot upon fan
fiction’s escutcheon. Trouble is, that little wench, that titian temptress, was
so FREAXIN’ hard to send to her reward. Rather like a cockroach. A flame-winged
one, that is.
The Founders Four would be
proud of us, we know. Meanwhile, sit back and enjoy. And remember, it’s all in
the spirit of good, slightly dingy fun.
Ginny: Chapter One
Gets an Idea
they never could decide who alerted the Daily
Prophet. But, as George pointed
out, that just made the game more fun.
started on the Hogwarts Express, at the start of the Trio’s fifth year. Ron sat reading, and Harry stared out the
window listlessly, while Fred and George huddled over a price list for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
“Now, just snap out of that
depression, Harry,” Hermione said.
Lost in his own thoughts,
Harry paid almost no attention until Hermione said, “It doesn’t take that old
dingbat to predict that this year you’ll nearly die again, and someone else
will almost certainly die. And then you
still will have two more years, if you survive this one. So there’s really no point in you going off
the rails now.”
who it’ll be?” asked Ron, who had been leafing through his battered copy of Flying with the Cannons. “The person who snuffs it this year, I
mean.” For Ron’s birthday last year,
Harry had bought a Magical Update subscription that would keep the Cannons’
stats and ratings completely current.
As they had never stood anywhere other than last in the League, and
their score was inevitably 0-something, Harry supposed it didn’t really matter. But it made Ron happy.
there are some people I suppose I wouldn’t … miss … as much as others,”
Hermione said. “The usual suspects, of
course, starting with Mr. Malfoy.” She
began to tick them off on her fingers.
“Crabbe and Goyle, of course.”
of the slimy Slytherins,” Fred said.
“Snape at the head of the list.”
their parents,” Ron added, with disturbing relish.
looked up. “I suppose the Creevey
brothers are going to get into harm’s way at some time or another ….”
yours, following you around the way they do,” Ron snorted.
Midgen,” Hermione said thoughtfully.
Eloise?” George asked.
nose isn’t dead center,” Harry said, beginning to get into the spirit of the
thing. “That’s an automatic death
nodded. “It’s the only thing worse than
being on Star Trek and wearing a red
shirt and having no real name.”
Ron asked. He stared down at his book
for a minute, and then looked up at Harry.
“You know, Sirius is always sticking his paws into things. And his tail. That’s bound to get him into trouble. And Professor Lupin might bite somebody and get the Ministry
and look at Hagrid!” Hermione said.
“Nobody knows where he’s off to.
Snape, either, for that matter.
They could both have been killed already, and after, well, they’re both
close to Harry.”
please!” Harry grimaced. “Some images I
didn’t need, and that includes Snape close to anyone. Let alone me. Hagrid, too, for that matter. --Hang on, it could be the new DADA teacher. Whoever it is can’t be as good as Professor
Lupin, anyway, so no great loss there.”
got a point,” George said slowly. “It
could be … one of us.”
shook his head. “Can’t be me or Hermione; we’re the Faithful Sidekicks. You and George, though, are prime cannon
die in some stories,” Fred reminded him. “Besides, we’re the Comic Relief. That’s equally indispensable.”
Ron glared at his brothers. “Not
necessarily—sometimes the Comic Relief dies pathetically to up the emotional
nodded. “Yeah, and Percy’s too
obvious. Besides, who would kill
him? We’d hear a three-week eulogy in
which the major topic was cauldron bottom thickness.”
and Dad are too … parental …” Ron said.
I like the idea of it being one of you Weasleys,” Hermione said. “You’re close to Harry … family figures …
but expendable, too.”
stared at Hermione in mock affront.
After a moment, he nodded. “That
leaves Ginny,” he said.
Good call, George,” Ron said. “After
all, she’s already nearly died once; nobody will be suspecting it.”
thought it over. “I like it. She’s young and sweet, and very much loves
Harry.” She eyed him. “In fact, she’s so sweet she rots teeth at
“Have you seen some of those
Ginny stories, Hermione? Sweet isn’t
the half of it,” Fred added. “Most of
the time, our little sister knows more spells than Dumbledore.”
“But she remains beautifully
vulnerable,” George said, hands clasped in mock piety.
“She always knows what to
say, and she’s so womanly-wise, she might as well be our mother, even though
she’s younger than we are,” Ron finished.
Hermione was scribbling a
list. “And Viktor Krum was attracted to
her, and Cedric, and Neville, and probably Parvati and Lavender, too. In fact, just about anyone who matters. I hate to say it, but anyone with that
beautiful translucent skin and perfect hair—even when she hasn’t brushed it for
days—deserves to die. Not counting also
having an excellent figure and luminous eyes.”
“Plus there is the issue of
her doe-eyed adoration,” Harry muttered.
“Her only flaw is that she writes very bad poetry.”
George and Fred suddenly
became very interested in the sides of the train compartment, and Harry said
sternly, “All right, you two—what is it?”
After some foot shuffling,
Fred said, “Well, Harry, that poem … your second year, the one sung by that
rancid dwarf … “
“Yes, I remember it
excruciatingly well, thank you,” Harry cut in, not too keen on allowing Fred
and George any opportunity to begin singing ‘His eyes are as green as a
new-pickled toad.’ “You don’t have to
“Er…” The twins glanced at each other. Finally, George said, “Uh, that one was
“I could have told you
that,” Ron said.
“Well … uh … Ginny’s poem …. “
“Let’s say that it could
have won the Taliesin Contest for poetry, hands down.”
“Actually, it did—she sent
it in before Christmas.”
Hermione gaped. “That’s the contest for the best poem in the
entire wizarding world for that year!”
After a moment or two, Ron reached over and gently closed Hermione’s
“The reviews were
spectacular—a mature sensibility, brilliant insight, subtle invocation of
“We couldn’t stand it,”
George said decisively. “So we
substituted a different version in her singing Valentine.”
“The dwarf didn’t even need
to be bribed,” Fred said. “She wrote a
twelve-part motet to accompany it, and it would have taken a whole ruddy
orchestra to play it. He only had two
hands and a harp.”
“Some reviewers have
compared it to Bach or Brumel,” George said gloomily.
Hermione shook herself. “Right.
These all sound like excellent reasons for her to die.” She turned to Harry. “How do you feel about it, Harry? Ginny being the next person to die? ”
Harry said promptly. “I’m so tired of
everyone shipping me with Ginny …”
with Hermione,” Ron muttered.
I just want to be left alone to find my own OC to marry. Later.
Much later. After I survive the
end of the world. If I get that
far. And after what you said about
Ginny being as wise as your mother … Ron, I love your mother, but I don’t want
to … er … um … marry someone just like her.
Especially when that someone is younger than I am.”
Ron nodded. “You know, I
hate to say it, but with Ginny gone, things might be a little better. At least I might have a chance at having a
pat of butter that doesn’t have an elbow-print in it.”
“Even her nervousness is
just too cute,” Hermione said.
Ron eyed Fred and
George. “Who will you use to test out
your Wizard Wheezes on?”
“You,” George said promptly,
and the others laughed. Ron grimaced, a
resigned look on his lanky face.
Harry looked at the other
four. “So, how do we get Ginny dead?”
said, “Well, first off, will we do it, or will Voldemort?”
depends,” Hermione said. “I get awfully
tired of waiting for him, after all; for a powerful wizard, he’s frightfully
slow, always waiting until just before term ends. I think we should have a go ourselves. Keep our mind off other things.”
nodded. “Good idea, Hermione.” He jogged George’s arm. “Hey, George, we can get a betting pool
going for how long she lasts.”
“Do we want to get others in
on the action?”
“Why not? It’ll be more fun that way.”
I think we can take care of her ourselves,” Hermione said. “But I’ll take you up on that bet. Five Galleons says we off her within a
looked thoughtful. “She’s pretty
resourceful, you know. All those spells
and worldly wisdom, not to mention international attention and lots of powerful
friends and allies. You’d better put me
down for ten Galleons and the Christmas holidays.”
shrugged. “I don’t have any money, but
I’ll bet you being a guinea pig against her surviving all through next
term. I’ve had to live with the little
Mary Sue, you know. She’s got superb
survival training … picked it up at a two week Girl Guides camp when she was
was scribbling furiously in a little black notebook. “Five Galleons … ten … brother being our guinea pig … got
“I’m with Ron—three Galleons
says end of term.”
Fred nodded, and wrote some
more. “Right. I’ll bet with Hermione, three Galleons and within a month, just
to make things more sporting.” He
snapped the book closed and shoved it in his pocket. “So … who gets to try first?”
Killing Ginny: Chapter Two
The Klarion Way
suppose that we have to watch how we do it,” said Ron. “It’s very likely that
over the summer, Ginny’s picked up incredible hand to hand skills.”
do wish you’d be serious, Ron,” said Harry. “I can certainly appreciate Ginny’s
perfections in all other arenas, but I don’t think she’s a peerless martial
only wish I were joking. I’m not aware of anything in particular, but since
we’ve covered just about every other possible perfection for her, I imagine
it’s only a matter of time since my little sister becomes a mistress of
ninjitsu or something.”
looked up from the Potions text she was studying. “You’re probably right, Ron.
That, or she’ll become a weapons specialist.”
you two think it would be sufficient for these writers to decide she’s the best
at dueling club?”
said Hermione, “do you know what anime is?”
said Harry. “Should I?”
said Hermione. “I think you should. You see, the same writers who give Ginny
all of her perfection, also like watching these cartoons from Japan, many of
them, and so Ginny is likely to be good at something like martial arts.”
suppose because a giant robot wouldn’t work at Hogwarts,” said Ron.
Ron!” said Hermione. “A giant robot. That’s pretty far fetched.”
rolled his eyes at Hermione. “Right. As if the rest of it isn’t.”
said Harry, “did you find anything that might lead you to believe we could kill
Ginny with a Potion?”
there are tons of them!” Hermione began flipping through the pages gleefully.
“I asked Professor Snape the other day, and he began to tell me about this one
that you give the victim in three parts so that it’s virtually untraceable.”
sounds quite good,” said Harry.
said Hermione, “he stopped telling me about it. Wanted to know what I wanted it
for, and after I sort of explained, he suggested that Ginny didn’t deserve
quite that elegant a death.”
said Harry. “We need another option.”
about Professor Klarion?” said Ron. “He’s a Binder. He might have an idea.”
found Professor Klarion in the Dark Arts classroom, petting his cat. “Professor
Klarion,” said Ron. “D’you suppose we could borrow Isis for just a bit?”
Klarion glanced up and continued to pet Isis distractedly. “Why?”
said Harry, “well, we just thought that we might ask Isis if she’d kill Ginny
Klarion nodded. “I suppose she might. For such a favor, I think she’d probably
appreciate a special treat afterwards.”
it?” said Harry. “That easy?”
certainly. Of course, if I were you, I’d make sure that Isis finished the job.”
do you mean?” said Hermione.
is a cat in appearance, correct?” Professor Klarion smiled as Isis licked his
hand. “Cats like to play with their prey. So, she’d probably have a good start
with killing Ginny, then she might take Ginny to the Abyss, and that could be a
still not following,” said Hermione.
know, I’ve noticed an annoying tendency, Weasley, in your sister, to become as
perfect as possible.”
said Ron. “That’s one of the reasons we’ve decided she has to go.”
Ginny were to go to the Abyss, unsupervised, well, she might be running the
place in a week. Can you imagine what would happen if she found out who was
responsible for Isis’ attack?”
a good point,” said Harry. “I think we’ll try something else.”
not saying that it couldn’t be done,” said Professor Klarion. “I’m just saying
that the three of you would have to make sure of absolute follow through.
said Hermione, “Thanks, Professor, but we’ll try to think of something less
shrugged. “You could try merging her with a magical object. That will kill
someone nine times out of ten.”
said Ron. “Ginny would be the eleventh time.” The three left the room to
contemplate their next move.
Killing Ginny: Chapter Three
Suffering for Beauty
“Harry! Oh I’m so sorry! Do let me help
you!” Ginny bent over him, sweetly
scented with Odour L’Adoro, but Ron shoved her away angrily.
all right, just hit his arm. Anyway,
aren’t you late for class or something?”
Saturday, Ron,” said his sister condescendingly. “I was just going to offer to bandage his arm, but if you can do it better than I can – then
go right ahead!” And she swept off elegantly down the staircase, her glorious
red hair flowing down her perfectly straight back.
and Ron looked at each other. “Great
idea, Harry,” said Ron, helping him to his feet. “You might have known my dear sister would come down and knock
you into the trick banister.”
only needed another couple of seconds and I would have Charmed it to trip HER,”
muttered Harry. “And with any luck,
she would have fallen down the stairs and broken her perfect little neck. Anyway – OUCH! I think my arm’s broken.”
“What have YOU been doing, Potter?” said
Madam Pomfrey crossly when they reached the hospital wing. “Something stupidly dangerous again?”
Harry muttered. “I was trying to Charm
the staircase from the Gryffindor corridor up to the fourth floor.”
what were you doing that for?”
Hogwarts’ matron was highly suspicious of anything involving members of
the Potter or Weasley families. “You
could have killed someone.”
were trying to!” burst out Ron. “We
were trying to get it to kill Ginny!”
had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked at Madam Pomfrey’s
face. Ron’s mouth occasionally ran
away with him …
wanted to KILL your sister?” Madam
Pomfrey looked awfully like that Hungarian Horntail when she was angry, thought
Harry, his heart sinking a little bit further.
– um – well, yes – you see …” Ron was
edging to the door, and seemed to be about to make a dash for it.
here, Mr Weasley,” said Madam Pomfrey, and Harry was shocked to see her
smile. “Come in and sit down. Now, just wait a minute while I heal Mr
Potter here – nasty break, that one.”
minutes later, Harry and Ron were sitting in the Matron’s office, sipping cocoa
and munching on strictly medicinal chocolate cake.
then,” said Madam Pomfrey kindly. “Tell
me about this plan to kill Ginny. I
must say, it’s certainly not before time, either!”
– you mean – you mean YOU think she should be killed?” Perhaps there was something in the cocoa,
Ron thought dazedly.
course she should.” The Matron’s voice sounded brisk and no-nonsense. “That child has been quite dreadfully
perfect since she started here. Well,
she did have that unfortunate little incident in her first year, but since then
– absolutely nothing. Never get
injured at Quidditch – never explodes a potion over herself - never so much as
a sniffle or a sneeze. Never even
gets a headache. Her skin is perfect,
her hair is glorious – and her weight is exactly right. Only last week that pet Manticore of
Hagrid’s escaped and tried to attack her – and she got it back into a cage
without a mark on her. That is not a
normal girl, I tell you.”
two boys stared at her. She cut them
another enormous slice of cake each.
think it’s about time somebody did something.
No good will come of having a perfect girl here at Hogwarts, you
know. I told Professor McGonagall that
only the other day. Even your mother
Harry – yes, your dear, beautiful mother – even she got the occasional headache. Of course, that could have been from your wonderful father and all his …” Poppy Pomfrey paused abruptly to wipe her
eye with a spotless white handkerchief.
thought it best to keep eating. He
glanced at Ron, who was staring at Madam Pomfrey with rapt attention.
Pomfrey.” Ron took a deep breath. “Madam Pomfrey, we’ve been trying to kill
Ginny for some time now. And nothing
seems to work. I even got Fred and
George to try and curse her broom last week – but she’s put an Uncursable Charm
on it. And it screams loudly if anyone
other than Ginny even touches it!”
tried to get Colin Creevey to take a picture of her at practice last week, and
blind her with the flash so she’d fall off her broom. Only he wasn’t quick enough, and he took Katie Bell instead. Lucky George was able to catch her.”
see.” The Matron was looking
thoughtful. “Well, no use you trying to kill her – she’ll always
be suspicious of you and your brothers.
Hmm – let me see.”
and Ron finished their cocoa and cake, watching as Madam Pomfrey took down a
series of volumes from her shelves, flicking through them and muttering under
– Dissolvo potion - no, that won’t
work. Tastes much too obvious. Pestilentia essence – no, no, that won’t do either. Might infect the other students. Hmmm ...”
then, Hermione appeared at the door.
“Madam Pomfrey – oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, seeing the two
boys. “I’ve come to tell you!”
asked Ron gloomily. “Ginny has survived
an attack by twenty three Death Eaters in Hogsmeade? She wrestled the Giant Squid and won? She’s tamed a Lethifold? ”
you idiot. She’s got a PIMPLE!” Hermione’s face glowed with triumph. “A great big, ugly, fat pimple on her chin.”
pimple? On that perfect, satiny
skin?” Ron was sceptical. “She’s been the flawless beauty lately.”
didn’t see it when she bumped into me,” muttered Harry.
never see things right under their noses,” said Hermione matter-of-factly,
sitting down on a spare chair. “But
she’s up in the dormitory now, trying to fix it.”
“That’s it!” cried Madam Pomfrey in triumph.
“Miss Granger, once again you have come up with the perfect
solution. My cure for pimples!”
rather you didn’t cure it, actually,” said Ron. “We really wish you weren’t so efficient, Madam Pomfrey. Can’t you just make a mistake or
something. I mean – I’ve never heard
of anyone dying from a pimple – but at least she won’t look quite so perfect
for the next few days.”
Weasley, of course I am efficient. But
I’ll have you know that curing pimples can be a difficult and dangerous
matter. Mistakes can be made. Oh, not that I would normally make those
mistakes – but there’s always a first time for everything.” And with that, she started to rummage in
cupboards and on shelves, pulling out bottles, jars, vials and other
containers. “Now, let’s see, where is
it – aha! That’s what I need!” And she patted a fat brown bottle
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at the school matron . She smiled warmly at them, looking positively cheerful. Did she really mean what they thought she
boys, off you go. Don’t worry about
anything, just leave it to me. Miss
Granger, I need a word with you. We
need to make sure Miss Weasley comes down here. And by the time I’ve finished with her, she won’t have a pimple
left. She won’t have much of a face
either – but that can’t be helped, can it?
Sacrifices must be made, and I always find too much beauty quite
and Ron headed back to Gryffindor. Why
hadn’t they thought of Madam Pomfrey before?
If she could cure you, she could kill you …
day was suddenly much, much brighter.
Ginny: Chapter Four
to the Wanna-Be Carmen Weasley!
you know that the Weasleys are going to take over the entire wizarding world in
the space of five generations? That our great-great-grandchildren will, in
fact, be little Weasleys?”
Blaise had said one thing guaranteed to divert Queenie from her Transfiguration
did the arithmetic. There are seven Weasley children. Now if each Weasley has
seven children, there will be forty-nine Weasley grandchildren. These
forty-nine Weasley grandchildren will have three hundred and forty-three
great-grandchildren, and in the fifth generation there will be two thousand
four hundred and one Weasleys. And being that Ginny is a sassy, spitfire
That does it!” Queenie put her hands over her ears and stood up. “Come on,
Nemesis!” she called to her Angora cat. “We’re going to defuse this carroty
population bomb once and for all! We’ll start with the titian temptress, then
we’ll go for the boys! I happen to hate red hair!”
are you going?” Blaise shouted after Queenie as she grabbed her wand and ran
from the Slytherin common room, Nemesis following close behind.
the world from drowning in a tide of Weasleys!” Queenie replied over her
are you, you coppery excrescence?” Queenie turned round a corner somewhere in
the darkest, dankest corner of the Hogwarts dungeons. Judging from the smell,
Snape’s rooms were not that far away. Then she heard a muffled sobbing. Was it
the new DADA teacher, whoever she was this year, pining after Professor Snape?
Harry, Harry, if you were here, you could fill my arms with heather!”
girl, heather doesn’t grow in dungeons. Expelliarmus!”
Ginny squeaked as her wand flew out of her pocket and into Queenie’s
outstretched hand. Then her eyes turned from brown to violet, signaling that
her Spitfireyness was upon her. She
stomped her little feet and tossed her paprika-toned ankle-length mane of
silken, cascading waves. Her flawless, alabaster skin, unmarred by the
slightest freckle, blushed a faint tint of the rosiest shell pink, like a
sunset over the Caribbean. “What have you done with my wand, you, you…Slytherin
Weasley, you are an ecological hazard and a right pain in the arse to boot! You
are nothing but a Mills and Boon Feisty Redhead and your whole family is too
fertile for the wizarding world! I don’t want any red-haired sons-in-law
infesting my family! Muridus!”
Queenie pointed her wand – eleven inches, laurel with a dragon heartstring – at
Ginny and instantly the red-haired girl was transfigured into a little ginger
mouse. “Go get her, Nemesis!”
Nemesis saw something – or someone – even more enticing than a juicy rodent.
Crookshanks, Hermione Granger’s ugly ginger tomcat, had followed them into the
dungeons. He was now strutting before Nemesis, who rolled around, making kitty
goo-goo eyes at what she obviously thought was the handsomest and most virile
Nemesis! Don’t shag, stalk! Pounce! Kill!”
and Crookshanks ignored her.
little ginger mouse, seeing a chance at escape, squeaked and ran for it –
straight into a hole which led to Snape’s dungeons.
sighed. Then, looking at Nemesis and Crookshanks, grumbled, “Looks like I have
a ginger-haired son-in-law, after a fashion. At least Crookshanks is not a
Weasley cat. Not yet, anyway.”
Killing Ginny: Chapter Five
Death American Style
Ron, and Hermione were getting desperate.
None of their previous solutions had panned out and with each passing
day, Ginny was becoming more stunning, more intelligent, more invulnerable, and
more annoying. How anyone could
possibly be so chipper in the face of danger was beyond Harry.
grabbed Harry’s arm as they walked to the common room early one evening before
dinner. “Harry, what if you ask Alex?
She’s your godmother, isn’t she?
She cares for you and she wants you to be happy. Why wouldn’t she help you with this?”
bet she’s got some sort of Yank solution that will involve weapons!” Ron said,
rubbing his hands together.
found Alexandra Lennox in the kitchens cooking a five-course dinner for Severus
Snape, no doubt, while reviewing a case file and teaching the house-elves how
to play the electric guitar. If she
weren’t in love with Professor Snape she would have been almost as maddening as
Ginny herself, but Harry felt sorry for her instead. Besides, she had great legs.
I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” Harry began.
dude. What’s up? Can I work over the ferret for you? Make him
an offer he can’t refuse?”
something even more satisfying than that, Alex.” Ron said. “It has to do with my sister.”
dude, you want me off the little red-haired girl? Charlie Brown will never forgive me.” They gave her a collective confused look, arching their eyebrows
did you know, Alex?” Hermione asked.
make it my mission to know everything.” She winked at them. “Sophisticated surveillance equipment that
every American Auror worth his salt has access to.”
of American Aurors, you aren’t bothered by the . . .er illegality of this
enterprise?” Hermione queried.
I’m loyal to the people I love—it’s that one pesky flaw I have. How else do you
think I can put up with Severus’ hygiene issues? Besides, no one gets to be as cute as I am. Some of these insane people have actually
paired Ginny with Severus. If he’s
going to prison for being a child molester, I want him go to prison for doing
someone a little less aggravating.”
Then she became serious, frowning at Hermione. “But don’t get any ideas.”
what’s your plan?” Ron gave her the once over.
are a couple of angles I could pursue, all of them involving Muggle
weapons. Do you think she might like a
game of Glock, paper, scissors? I know paper covers Glock, but I can still use
the Glock to shoot her!”
gave her a puzzled look. “It’s a
handgun. I forget, even the Muggles in
your country don’t carry guns. You do
know what guns are, right?
nodded in unison. “Well, when the
obligatory invasion of the Great Hall by Death Eaters happens, which you know
it will any day now, I can save the day and get rid of Ginny at the same time
with my .44 Magnum. It shouldn’t be too hard.
My partner’s ready at an instant to Apparate into the school with
nuclear weapons, if need be, so we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” She looked at Hermione, who was
frowning. “I know, you can’t Apparate
into the school, Hermione, but we’re Americans. We break the rules all the time.” Harry looked at his friends’ astonished faces and shrugged.
continued. “It should go like this.
After we shoot up the Great Hall—I’ll take care to only use five of my
six bullets—I’ll corner her with my weapon pointing right between her
eyes. Picture her cowering in her seat,
with me pointing my gun right at her.”
Alex shoved Hermione into a chair and pretended to hold a gun to her
head. “When she makes an involuntary
move, because you know she will, I’ll just say, ‘Ah-ah. I know what you’re thinking. Did she fire six shots or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this
excitement, I’ve kind of lost track myself.
But, being that this is a .44 Magnum—the most powerful handgun in the
world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one
question. Do I feel lucky?’ Then I’ll narrow my eyes and ask ‘Well, do
had moved dangerously close to Hermione, whose eyes were wide and
frightened. Harry looked over to see
Dobby bouncing from one foot to the other nervously. “Miss Lennox, you is needing to get your gateau out of the
oven. If we is late with Professor
Snape’s tea, you is not getting your engagement ring.”
Dobby, thank you,” Alex said, straightening herself up and moving toward the
ovens. “Sorry kids, I have to run. You know what they always say? It don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got that ring!” She turned her attention back to the meal
and dessert, muttering something like, “Go ahead, Severus, make my day.”
maybe someone else might be able to come up with something, Harry. I mean, knowing my sister, she’s wearing
invisible body armor and a Muggle gun won’t work anyway.” Ron looked back at
Alex and shook his head as they left the kitchens.
Killing Ginny: Chapter Six
The Seamstress and the Abominable Redhead
Ron, and Hermione walked slowly up Hogsmeade’s High Street, their young faces
glum. So far, their odds of survival
remained as before – Ginny had proven surprisingly resilient, managing to duck,
dodge, and evade each attempt on her life.
the first to speak. “Golly,” he said,
“I know we dropped her a lot when she was little, but I still wouldn’t expect
Ginny to be so hardy.”
I’ve seen this coming for years,” Hermione replied crisply, as the group
stopped outside of Gladrags Wizardwear.
“She’s one of only a few people to survive Voldemort’s influence as such
a young age, thus putting herself in the perfect position to become a font of
loving wisdom and nurture to you.”
looked pointedly at Harry, who gave a stricken gulp.
she continued, “Unless you want to be saddled with that sassy little spitfire
for the rest of your life, we need to get cracking! Now come inside while I buy some Dander Deterrent for my
robes. Crookshanks is a dear, but he
has some hygiene issues…”
her friends by the arms, Hermione dragged them through the flower-festooned
door and on into the clothing shop.
While she perused the display of familiar-friendly fabric treatments,
Ron and Harry continued to concoct strategies for Ginny’s demise in low,
conspiratorial whispers. They were deep
in their plotting when a cheery voice interrupted:
hello!” All three students turned to
see Abigail Loomis, Gladrags’ manager, standing behind them with several bolts
of fabric in her arms. “I’m so glad to
see you today. Did I hear you correctly
scrambled for an answer. “Oh, yes,” she
said quickly, “I have a cat named Crookshanks, who has the most gorgeous ginger
fur, and I like ginger things, you’ll see, as I’m standing rather close to Ron,
and anyhow, we were trying to figure out if this potion contributes to
hairballs, because Crookshanks has some awful ones, and Lavender about killed
me the last time he – ”
the sweet-faced witch said, leaning in and lowering her voice an octave,
“you’re not fooling me. I heard what
you were talking about, and I think I can help you there.”
eyed Abby suspiciously. Harry’s mouth
gaped. Ron scratched his head and
belched. Abby turned on him first.
tell me this. Is that Ginny’s natural
have the same hair colour,” Ron answered confusedly.
Loomis growled in exasperation. The boy
didn’t seem very bright. “Well then, is
that your natural colour?”
nodded, to which she just shrugged her shoulders. “You never know,” she said.
“Gilderoy Lockhart was down here once a week for touch-ups. I just thought I’d ask. Anyhow, I find it patently unfair that I got
stuck with this mousy brown, while she got hair like that.”
think your hair looks nice – ” Ron started to say, before Hermione leveled him
with an elbow to the gut.
pushed his glasses up his nose, a sweet and endearing gesture, and stared at
Abby. “But we don’t want Ginny to croak
because of her hair, Miss Loomis, even if it does rival the beauty of a
thousand setting suns. We’re not that shallow.”
neither am I,” Abby rejoined, with fire in her eyes. “But do you know what she did the last time she was here? We were trying out some new hair baubles –
only trying, mind you – and the little minx scampered off without paying
for them. That went straight out of my
bottom line, and I’m peeved.
Besides that, I heard that Ginny has her eye on becoming a robes
designer after she leaves Hogwarts, so it’s in my best interest to see that she
leaves the picture now.” Her voice
began to rise shrilly. “There’s only
room for one fashionista in Hogsmeade, do you hear me! One!
I drove Malkin out, and I’ll drive her out, too!”
curtailed her rant when customers began to stare. She paused, shook her head slightly, and her face resumed its
count me in.”
Loomis…” Ron began uncertainly, staring at the plush carpet, “…you seem kind
of, erm, enthusiastic about this.
Ginny said you were always so nice to her before...”
veneer departed when Abby fixed a steely gaze on the redheaded lad. “I don’t know what you’re whinging about,”
she snapped. “You’re the one who wants
to off his own sister.”
Miss Loomis,” Harry said, “there’s no need to worry about yourself, you
know. You’re not really connected to
Ginny kicks it, those in your immediate circle have a better chance of
staying alive, right?”
yeah, but – ”
all I needed to know.”
you worried about?”
why are you – ”
tell you when you’re older.”
eyes grew wide. “Hey, Harry, d’you
think she fancies Sir – ” he began, but his speculation was cut short when Miss
Loomis kneecapped him with a bolt of aqua tulle.
Hermione had grown certain of the shop manager’s dedication to the cause. “Do you have ideas, Miss Loomis?” she
asked. “Ginny’s managed to outwit
everything we’ve come up with so far.”
a finger to her lips, Abby dragged the students to a remote corner of
Gladrags. Once she’d given Ron a small
slap to pull his attention away from a picture of Celestina Warbeck in a
low-cut evening gown, she unfolded her plan.
can you spare a few Galleons from your ancient ancestral fortune?”
can you imitate your mum’s handwriting?”
rubbed her hands together gleefully.
weeks later, jaws dropped as a titian-haired lass walked into Gladrags, a ratty
piece of parchment in her hand. The
audible gasps caused Abby to look up from the counter of ladies’
“unmentionables”, where she’d been hunting out the best items for herself. Her eyes focused on Ginny Weasley, and a
grimly determined smirk formed on her lips.
The time had come. Finally.
Weasley, hello!” she called out, stuffing several silken scraps into her
pocket. “What may I help you with
today?” (“Other than kicking the
bucket,” she added under her breath.)
glided across the showroom, moving as though carried by a current of soft
air. She held up the parchment
robes! Mum sent me money for new
robes! They’ll be my first new set since
Uncle Bilius’ funeral!”
don’t say? How very kind of her. I always thought your family lived like
was just as surprised!” Ginny replied.
“I mean, I had to wear Charlie’s old underwear for the longest
time. And Dad was always nicking our
toilet paper from the Ministry loos.
But now that I’m away from home, Mum can’t make me re-use the dental
floss anymore. And I’ll have new
robes! Now Harry will notice me!”
held out the parchment, which was covered with smudges, smears, and crossed-out
words. “Deer Jinniy,” it began. Abby buried a snarl under her smile. Why had she asked Ron to write
this? The boy was obviously no
shining star at school. Well, it seemed
to have done the trick – Ginny was here.
couldn’t be from the egg money, as we don’t keep chickens anymore,” Ginny
continued. Her eyes darted from side to
side, and she leaned in to whisper, “They didn’t trust me near the roosters.”
stared in confusion, but she didn’t expend too much energy trying to sort out
the remark, as Miss Weasley would soon be pushing up daisies anyway.
go to work, shall we?” she said instead.
“I have some pink gingham that would look fabulous on you.” She seized Ginny by the arm and dragged her
to a nearby pedestal, where she nudged off the current resident with a poke of
her wand and plopped the redhead on top.
was just about to throw a length of fabric over Ginny’s shoulder when, without
warning, the girl let loose a torrent of profanities that would turn heads in a
Knockturn Alley pool hall.
me!” Ginny giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, “You wouldn’t think I had
that in me, would you? It just comes
out of nowhere! It must be the hair.”
Abby began to wrap and pin the gingham with single-minded zeal.
Loomis…” Ginny’s muffled voice came through the swathes of bubblegum checks, “I
don’t know that pink is my best colour.”
you’ll like it when I’m done,” Abby purred.
“Truly, you’ll be dying to wear these robes!”
the style, dear.”
can’t get any air, either!”
you’ll have to practice greater breath control. Really, Ginny, I’ll have to ask you to be more cooperative.” For good measure, she placed a decorative
bow atop the cocoon.
were going along just fine, until three heads appeared in Gladrags’ front
window. Abby wasn’t worried at first,
until Ginny spoke.
there, isn’t he?” she asked, in a voice that was either reverent or buried
under twelve yards of gingham.
waved irritably at the trio, trying to shoo them away. Pesky kids!
They were going to ruin everything!
“I can sense
him,” she went on, “He’s there, and I MUST get him to notice me!”
more than Abby could take without an antacid.
“Still clinging to that hope, are you?” she barked. “Haven’t you given up on that yet?”
Ginny replied dreamily. “I’m
contractually obligated to pine after Harry for at least another three years,
at which point I’ll either settle for Neville or date Draco Malfoy to get my
brothers hacked off. But until then,
it’s all Harry. Thanks for the robes,
Miss Loomis! Toodles!”
that, Ginny hopped off the pedestal and waddled towards the door with the gusto
of an over-caffeinated penguin.
back, Ginny, we’re not finished yet!” Abby screeched after her. “The sizing is wrong! The hem is loose! The seams are off! It’s UNFLATTERING!!!”
tried to lasso the moving pink blob with her measuring tape, but alas, the girl
was gone. Abby scowled and sat on the
pedestal with a grumpy humph!
Blasted Weasleys. She’d have to
have a go at Ron instead – the boy seemed easily disposable, after all, and she
doubted he’d be missed. As she debated
between death by Invisi-Pins or Chafing Charm, a large black dog stepped from
behind a changing screen and approached her.
“I tried, boy, I tried,” she said to the
perched its front paws on her lap and proceeded to coat her face with slobbery
kisses. Still fuming at Ginny’s escape,
Abby shrugged the canine off. She ran
a hand across her cheek, and watched as glutinous drips fell off her
fingers. She considered the dog and his
drool, the great quantity of mud he’d deposited on her robes, and his complete
lack of intellect and sensitivity. Her
eyes grew wide, as if a new and potentially wonderful idea was forming inside
her, and her face could barely contain the budding excitement. She looked as though the world was on sale,
or at least as though she’d had a major change of heart.
she said breathily, “If it is you who’ll be snuffing it, will you be a
pal and introduce me to Remus Lupin before you go?”
Killing Ginny: Chapter Seven
A Suggestion of Shakespeare
“Right, this is getting bloody
ridiculous, she can’t be indestructible.” Ron said, “There has to be a way we
can get rid of her.” He slammed his fist down on the couch arm, dislodging
Crookshanks who hissed and stalked off in annoyance.
looked in every book in the library and the rest of Britain too!” Hermione
cried. “We’ve tried stunning spells, hexes, curses, conjuring demons, even
Professor Klarion, Alex and Abby Loomis couldn’t get rid of her.” She slumped
dispiritedly in her chair. “I think we’re just going to have to accept that Ginny
cheered up quickly though, “Well if we give up all this plotting I’ll have time
to go back to using Sleekeazy’s on my hair daily and becoming the gorgeous
witch I was meant to be.” She glanced coyly at Ron, “And we can go back to
snogging all over the castle. Have we tried Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom yet?”
not that I don’t miss our little love triangle,” Harry said stepping between
the two of them. “But come on Hermione. We’re the fantastic three, we’re
completely unbeatable. You’re just not thinking about this hard enough, if
you’d stop lusting after everything in robes for a minute you’d find the answer
threw him an angry look. “Well if you weren’t curled up in the common room
corner every other day bawling your eyes out over your dead parents, your
unrequited love for the oh-so-perfect Ginny, and the fact that there’s a
homicidal maniac with a wand after you, we just might be getting somewhere.”
was in hysterics, clutching his sides and gasping for breath between shouts of
laughter. “Oh shut up Ron,” Harry snapped. “You’re not any better. Half the
time you’re drooling all over yourself over Hermione and the other half we’re
pulling you out of some stupid fight. You know I think Moody has given you an
unhealthy fixation for ferrets. Next thing you know we’ll find you making out
with old Draco.” Ron threw a punch at Harry lost his balance and ended up
staring at the common room ceiling from flat on his back.
took the opportunity to pounce on Ron’s head, paying him back for earlier.
“That cat’s a menace!” Ron shoved the cat off with an arrested look on his
face. “Hang on,” he said. “I’ve got it, Hagrid!”
looked at him incredulously, “You want to start making out with Hagrid? And I
thought those Snape-Hermione ships were weird.”
tossed her hair and sniffed disdainfully. “I happen to like older men for your
information,” she looked pointedly at the both of them. “They’re much more
would you two shut up for a minute, I think I’m on to something here.” Ron
said, still flat on his back, though Harry thought he might be trying to sneak
a look under Hermione’s robes this time. “What if we ask Hagrid to borrow one
of his pets? We could invite Ginny to tea with Aragog or something.”
began to look excited. “Does Ginny turn into a little blubbering ball tears
when she sees spiders too?” He asked Ron.
Fred and George slipped spiders down the back of her robes one too many times
for that. But you know anything Hagrid likes is guaranteed to be lethal. Maybe
he’s hiding something else interesting in the Forrest. Wonder what ever
happened to Fluffy?”
just one problem with that Ron,” Hermione said in her very best
I-know-everything-in-the-world voice. “She’s already survived a Basilisk, I
think the little brat’s luck is pretty good with monsters. You’ve really got to
learn to be more original. You know, become a walking encyclopedia like me.”
snorted and went back to pondering how to kill the love of his life. He was
bloody tired of spending his life daydreaming about Ginny’s adorable freckles
and stunning figure. It was nauseating really, the sickly sweetness she
inspired in him. Ginny had to go before even one more scene was written in
which he humiliated himself to get her attention. He was NOT showing up in the
great hall in a cupid’s outfit again.
said Hermione consideringly. Both boys looked at her with expectant
expressions, Hermione was the one who always came up with brilliant plans after
all. “Ginny does have one weakness.”
said Ron, honestly curious. Surely by now they’d proven that Ginny didn’t have
any weaknesses, she was a goddess of perfection, truth, beauty and all that is
wonderful with the world. Damn annoying.
said Hermione. She looked at Harry speculatively. “She’s always behaving like
an idiot around him, pining away in her hopelessly devoted way. What if we make
her think there’s no chance at all for them. It might push her right over the
edge. She’ll end her life in a fit of teenage drama, pull an Ophelia and die
rather than be spurned by him.”
do we manage that?” Harry asked.
have to marry Parvati.” Hermione said matter-of-factly.
looked revolted. “I’m sixteen, what would I want to do that for? And anyway
Pavarti’s a giggling fluff-brain. I can’t marry her. I’m only attracted to
other guy’s girlfriends and she’s currently single.”
it up man,” Ron said smacking Harry on the shoulder. “It’s for the good of the
school. You’ll probably die next week anyway, so it’s not like this is a
lasting commitment. Course if you do live your stuck with her for life.”
sighed happily. “Hmmm yes, it’s just something in the food I guess. We’re all
fated to meet our future spouses here. Everyone knows there’s no life after
secondary school anyway.”
well, I am the hero, so I guess I’ll just have to sacrifice myself for the good
of the team. Err, are you at least a little interested in Parvati, Ron? It’d
make it so much easier for me to marry her if you were.” Harry said.
a chance,” Ron said, “I’m superficial and all, but well, unless she’s part
Veela or starts bossing me around all day I just can’t see the allure.”
sighed glowering at Hermione. “This had better work,” he said threateningly “if
Ginny doesn’t snuff it I may just have to save Voldemort the trouble of killing
me and end it myself.”
do you think Snape got Alex’s ring?” Harry added gloomily. Course there’s
always hope that we might think of some other way to kill her tomorrow, he
thought, not entirely resigned to his fate. Had they asked Professor Chance
Killing Ginny: Chapter Eight
A Raptor-ous Interlude
tickled the pear. She was in search of
chocolate, since love seemed an impossibility, and her brothers had showed her
how to get into the kitchens. The door
slid open and Ginny tiptoed in, attracting the attention of house-elves, who
mobbed the beautiful redhead in an orgy of subservience.
arms were instantly loaded with éclairs, chocolate cake, sauerkraut, devilled
eggs, bananas foster (Ginny bit her lip, trying to ignore the third degree burn
the still-flaming dessert inflicted upon her), bubble and squeak, cherry
cheesecake and a ham hock.
dropped all of them when an outraged, squeaky and very drunk House-Elf voice
screamed “Take that, Weastly-headed hussy.
Winky hates Weastlys. Winky
hates redheaded tramps. Winky loves
face began to scrunch up in tender sympathy with the distraught creature, when
a large jar of honey flew from the pantry and upended itself upon Ginny,
coating her from head to foot. She
placed a tender and sticky hand on the by-now-passed-out Winky’s head. “I understand, you poor dear. I’ll ask Bill who his therapist is, and
recommend you.” She was nearly knocked
out by a side of frozen beef, flung by a scowling Dobby.
out of kitchen elitist mistress, and stop condescending attitude. We is free, missy. Get out.” He nearly tied
himself into a pretzel as one half of his body tried to shove Ginny out the
door, while the other attempted to impale himself on a convenient spit.
her large brown eyes swimming with diamond-bright tears, stumbled gracefully
back to her room. As she flung open the
door, all she could see was feathers.
The air was full of them, and she could hear thudding noises,
accompanied by screeches.
“Griselda? Ermentrude? Britney?
Are you all right?” Consumed by concern for her beloved roommates, she
plunged into the mess, finally grabbing hold of an arm. Gosh,
I never knew Ermentrude was that hairy, she thought, and then
screamed. The arm was attached to a
very naked Virilius Smith, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and sixth-year
stopped flinging pillows at each other and stared at Ginny, now coated with
feathers. Ginny stared back at the
naked and flushed sextet, Virilius having brought his pals Longitudinous and
never get to see Harry naked,” wailed Ginny, and fled back out into the
hallway, and kept running until she found herself on the terrace at the back of
Hogwarts. She sat on the railing and
sniffled, pulling feathers out of her beauteous nostrils.
blinding pain in her forehead caused her to fall off the railing and onto the
grass. The pain struck again, this time
on her shoulder, and multiplied until all Ginny could do was cover her eyes and
had been a bad day of hunting for Malhereuse.
The falcon’s owner, Viviane Chance, was not around to help flush out
prey from the tall grasses, and the bright sunlight cast shadows that alerted
the voles and mice to his presence long before he could attack them. But then, his luck changed. A pigeon, surely the biggest and tastiest
pigeon ever hatched, was perched on the railing of the terrace. Malhereuse soared upward and around, hoping
in his raptor heart that nothing would scare the massive meal into flight
before he could launch his attack. His
luck held. The wretched pigeon sat still,
picking at its beak, and never saw Malhereuse coming.
lay on the grass, exhausted and bleeding from everywhere, especially her
liver. It had taken every ounce of her
strength to fend off Professor Chance’s wretched bird, but not before it had
left Ginny resembling a piece of bloody Jarlesberg. “Harry,” she moaned, and then thought better of it. Fetching as she might look, bleeding and
befeathered, she’d rather be wearing a stunning gown and a tiara when she and
Harry finally faced Their Destiny Together.
As her organs began to fail, one by one, she sighed and thought it was
all worth it, every peck, if it helped save Harry’s life, which it didn’t, but
never mind. It was all worth it,
Hermione and Ron were walking across the lawn, back from investigating the
possibilities of feeding Ginny to the squid.
It didn’t look promising, because the squid, despite her love for Harry,
was a dedicated pacifist. Suddenly,
Hermione stopped and let forth an uncharacteristic squeal. “Look!
Trio stared down at the bloody mess amongst the heather. “Er, Ginny?” said Ron, poking her with his
beloved brother,” sighed Ginny. “You’ve
not really-“ began Ron.
going on here,” barked a nasty, French-accented voice.
Professor Chance, we think Ginny’s about to die,” chorused Harry, Ron and
Chance stared down at Ginny, then pulled out her wand and gave her a good
blast. Ginny flinched.
not dead yet. Although she deserves to
be. My poor falcon is still traumatized
by his inability to kill her properly.” Levitating Ginny, Professor Chance
frowned at the Trio. “A million points
from Gryffindor. For...for the hell of
it. Off to Madam Pomfrey we go.” The Professor walked off, Ginny in tow,
while Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other in bafflement.
just. Won’t. Die,” Ron said. “I hate
being a Weasley.”
Killing Ginny: Chapter Nine
The Headmaster’s Secret
On the last day of term the trio sat on the shore of the
lake. Hermione was reading Hogwarts, A History for the zillionth
time, Ron was throwing bits of roll to the giant squid (which juggled the
pieces artistically for a while before eating them), and Harry was just
Harry cleared his throat, after an hour of uncomfortable
silence. “Ummm, Ron?” he asked. “We’ve done everything else we wanted to do
this year—find another three secret tunnels, save the world from Voldemort
again – “
“Stop saying the name!” Ron hissed, as if he expected the
Squid to turn each of its tentacles into a miniature Voldemort on the spot.
“Honestly, Ron, we’ve beaten him four times now, and you
still have a problem with the name?”
Hermione said, added a firm “Tuh!” for good measure, and returned to her book.
Harry continued doggedly, “—and we even got Snape to wash
“Once,” Hermione said, without looking up from her book.
“But we’ve failed in the most important job this year.”
precious sister,” Ron said gloomily.
“Any ideas?” Harry said.
“I’m desperate here! You know if
Ginny survives this year she will be indestructible, and the fanfic writers
will have us paired sooner than I can catch the Snitch. And next year I’ll be sixteen—you know there
are writers out there who can’t imagine anyone over that age not being paired
up … we have to do something!”
Ron shook his head.
“Everyone’s tried. Miss Loomis
in town, Madam Rosmerta …”
“She did?” Hermione asked.
“Slipped an anti-aging potion into Gin’s Butterbeer,”
Harry explained. “Used a formulation
that took at least twenty years off; that would have left Gin at minus six, but
at the last moment Ginny dropped the glass.
Landed all over this disgusting three-hundred-year old egg that some
shady type was trying to sell; took off at least three thousand Galleons from
“Madam Pomfrey, Professor Chance, even Professor Klarion
all tried. Not to mention Snape,
Sprout, Sinistra, and even Trelawney.
Bill tried to lock her in with a soul-sucking mummy, and Charlie mistook
her for a sack of dragon feed. Hell,
last Christmas even Mum and Dad got into the act. Dad almost flattened her with that new car he’s enchanting, and
Mum laced Gin’s night face-cream with ghoul-attractant.” Ron’s voice became even more morose. “I was so desperate, I even went to
Harry looked at Ron in awe. “You didn’t. Did he … ?”
“Oh, his was extra-special,” Ron said, brightening a
Ginny’s hand shook as she knocked on Professor
Dumbledore’s office door. She had
already checked her robes seven times to make sure that they were in perfect
order—after all, the last time she had been in his office she had been covered
with sewer mud and basilisk slime; although she knew she had managed to appear
radiant despite her ordeal, she wanted to make a better impression this
time. After all, this was Dumbledore.
“Come in, Miss Weasley.”
She walked primly into the room, and, at Dumbledore’s casual
wave, sat on a ladder-back chair across his desk.
He watched her carefully for a moment, without speaking,
and Ginny smiled her most sweet smile.
Several of the portraits of former headmasters expired instantly from
diabetes. Finally, Dumbledore handed
her a Pensieve.
“Miss Weasley,” he said, “There are still some unresolved
issues from your unfortunate possession by Tom Riddle four years ago. I was wondering if you would be so kind as
to help me by placing your memories in the Pensieve, so that I may examine them
more minutely. I will, of course, make
them available to you whenever you should wish them.”
“Gladly, sir, and if I may say so, they are truly the
only things weighing down my life. I
would be most grateful to leave them forever,” Ginny replied, and reached for
She took the orb between her shell-pink hands with the
perfectly manicured nails (this despite her having come from Herbology), and
gazed into it, enormous eyes long-lashed and wide. However, most curiously, this Pensieve did not draw her thoughts
and memories from her head, but instead sucked her down ….
into a flat world of bright green grass that looked suspiciously like
Astroturf. She was backed into a
corner formed by two waist-high walls, beyond which was plain grey space. Above her head, a red sign briefly appeared
proclaiming that she had entered the Moo-Moo Farm. Listening intently, she could just hear the first, bored,
“Damn and blast,” Ginny said, her tone never deviating
from the genteel. “He would be a Diablo II fan, wouldn’t he?
I’ve been sucked into the Secret Cow Level!” In retrospect, she realized
that she should not have been surprised; after all, Dumbledore’s own brother
Aberforth had been prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat,
and it stood to reason that if Aberforth liked goats, Dumbledore might like
back to reality, Ginny scrambled about, looking for a weapon, for she knew that
she had mere moments before a herd of pole-axe-wielding Hell Bovines attacked
her. There was nothing around her that
could even be remotely dangerous. The
Hell Bovines would drop weapons when she killed them, but first she had to kill
some. Hand-to-hand wouldn’t do; even
her advanced skills could not cope with being mobbed by evil moo-cows.
They were coming.
“Moo, moo, moo,” one said, sounding quite bored, but
others were wore menacing. “Moo! Moo, moo, moo!” At least twenty-one of them, all on their hind legs, mincing
along carrying tin-foil-looking pole-axes.
Extremely sharp tin-foil-looking pole-axes that could slice right
through her if she made the mistake of staying in the way. They all had exactly the same pattern of
spots, she realized, and as she listened to their mooing she thought of the
game developers who must have had a lot of fun providing the voices for the
“Moo. Moo. Moo moo.”
She was going to die in his corner, she realized—she could
run, but she would only run into another patch of Hell Bovines, and then
another—and, if by chance, she evaded them all, there was the
lightning-enchanted Cow King to consider. Fawkes could not bring weapons into a
Pensieve. Not that he would, given that
Professor Dumbledore himself had sent her here. –To show my skill … a final
test before I leave school, I suppose. The
worst thing about this was that Harry would never know that the last words on
her lips had been his full name. Well,
he might, she decided, as this was a
The thought of Harry gave her strength, and suddenly she
remembered listening, hidden on the staircase landing, as he, Ron, and Hermione
recounted their adventures the first summer Harry had come to visit. “Am I a witch or not?’ she whispered grimly,
and let loose a large fire meteor—generally learnt only in the senior courses
for the Wizarding Doctorate of Elemental Mastery taught once every fifteen
years in Uppsala in Finnish (Basque was the other required language)—into the
front ranks of the Hell Bovines.
Several toppled, each in the exact same position, each with exactly the
same pattern of blood flowing into identical bright red pools. Ginny hardly noticed, as she cast two more
Meteors into the diminishing crowd. Her
energy level hardly even dipped, and she realized that she was having fun.
moment later, up to her shins in cow goo, she began picking through the bodies
for loot. If she were going to come
here, she might as well make a profit.
–Although what cows need with 682
gold coins, a couple of damaged sabres, a socketed Morningstar, a couple coats
of Serpentine armor, and a perfect sapphire is beyond me. Hmmm.
Wonder if I will gain experience points?
Ginny realized suddenly that only twenty-one Hell Bovines
had provided this much loot, and that there were—if she recalled right—over 150
of the mad cows per Cow Level. If she
could find a way of translating this booty into real-world equivalents, she
could add to her not inconsiderable fortune that she had amassed this
year—mostly from financing the bets on how long she would last this year; to
date she had not had to pay out on a single winning bet, and had collected over
four million Galleons world-wide. She
thought for a minute about the Cow King—if she didn’t kill him, she could come
back on her own and collect even more loot, whereas killing him would close the
level forever. –What if Dumbledore throws me back here, she realized, --and the love I bear Harry draws him in,
too? He is not as powerful a wizard as
I am a witch, and the Hell Bovines might …” Tempting though the wealth was, love and the survival of her
beloved was more important, and she decided to kill the Cow King.
Her pockets as mysteriously light as before, she went
in search of more cows. Not that, on
the Secret Cow Level, she had to go far.
She discovered that they made a lovely strangled sort of “Moo” when they
“We’ll never kill her,” Hermione said, “Not if Dumbledore tried, and failed.”
Harry was shaking his head in shocked awe. “She survived the Secret Cow Level! Ron, do you have any idea how hard that is
to do? The slightest moment of
inattention … a wandering thought … and ‘Moo!’ is the last you’d hear. It’s bad enough when it isn’t really you,
just a mess of pixels and bits.”
have they got to do with it?”
Hermione glared at Ron.
“Honestly, Ron! Pixels.
Although if there had been real pixies, Ginny might have had a few more problems.” She closed the book, carefully placing a
MagicalBookDart to mark her place.
“She still would’ve survived,” Ron said. “Somehow.”
“Which leaves us with my original question: what do we do
now?” asked Harry. “I hate going a
whole year without finally beating the Big Bad. Or whatever Big Bad substitute has been designated.”
A dulcet voice floated toward them, wafting delicately on
the fair spring breeze. “Oh, Har-ry!”
Harry screwed his eyes tight shut. “Oh, Lord, there she comes.”
Ginny undulated toward them, her titian hair floating in
the breeze. She carried a batch of
Spanish grapes in one hand and daintily peeled and ate each luscious globule,
all without losing a drop of succulent juice.
In honor of the spring day, she wore a set of robes with trailing,
uneven, pointed hems, rather like Muggle pictures of the clothing worn by
Titania in Shakespearian illustrations.
Ginny had enchanted her robes so that they were the perfect colors of
spring. It was a trick Abby Loomis had
been trying – and failing at – for years.
Ginny had recently forced the fashionista to sign a perpetual contract
with her; in addition to the staggering 89,000 pounds of gold from the Secret
Cow Level, the contract for robe-coloring alone—and the patent fees on the
process—would complete her dream of being the wealthiest woman in the world at
the youngest age.
“How are you all doing, my dear friends,” she cooed. “Aren’t you happy to be going home? See dear Mum … darling Dad … all our friends
… even the ghoul; he’s really rather sweet, in a puppy dog way.”
“Sure, Ginny,” Ron muttered through gritted teeth.
“I’ve even finished all my extra exams!” Ginny
trilled. “Twelve O.W.L.S. and fourteen N.E.W.T.S. … I’m leaving
school early; even Dumbledore said there was nothing he could possibly teach
That’s …. wonderful, Ginny,” Hermione said, her flat tone
betraying her true expression.
Ginny belatedly remembered her manners (--What was I thinking! But I can be excused, I suppose, as I was
thinking of …. Harry …..) and proffered the grapes, but nobody took any.
“There’s only one thing that could make my life … complete … fulfill me …. “
Ginny said, eyeing Harry.
Harry reddened, and muttered that he thought Ginny’s life
was pretty complete as it was.
“Well, think about it …. Of course, I am infinitely
patient, so I can wait until the rest of my life, and beyond, if need be. My love transcends death,” Ginny said,
favoring Harry with the sort of look old-fashioned people termed “bedroom
glances.” Of course, they were also
supremely demure and innocent.
Disappointed, Ginny stepped backward. “Well, I will see you all on the Hogwarts
Express,” she said, eating another grape.
“Yeah,” Harry said, his lack of enthusiasm clear.
Ginny gasped … and choked. She batted at her throat with one hand, and, as she turned blue,
dropped the other grapes and tried to give herself the Heimlich maneuver. It was almost too late, but it worked. The chunk of grape on which she had been
choking flew nearly twenty feet, splattering on the head of the statue of Urk
heavily, Ginny reached for the rest of her grapes. “I think I need a little refreshment after that experience!” she
said. But she tripped on the flowing
hem of her dress, and pitched forward.
She tried a graceful martial-arts kick spring to stop her fall, but her
other ankle got tangled in another dangling part of her robe’s hem, and she
landed heavily on the ground, hitting her head on the iron armrest of the bench
as she went down.
The Trio looked at each other.
After six minutes Hermione said, tentatively, “She could
still get up. This is Ginny, you know.”
“She could be fooling us,” Ron added.
Harry said nothing, but dug at Ginny’s side with his
foot. Getting no reaction, he flipped
her over, carefully, as you would flip over a large piece of driftwood on the
beach, being careful for stinging sea-life.
Ginny was dead.
Even in death, her face was perfectly composed. Even the dark bruise on her temple did not
disfigure the alabaster perfection of her profile. Her flame-coloured hair
fanned out in a perfect aureole around her head.
The three stood a moment in respectful silence, and then
Ron smacked his head with his hands.
“If only we’d known it was that easy!”
all our hard work …. Everyone’s plots … “ Hermione said, tutting in
annoyance. “We worked so hard this
year, and she goes and does it herself.”
to the end,” Ron added. “I suppose this
means that I don’t win my bet, either—George and I both thought she’d last to
the end of term, and this is still the last day. Plus, we didn’t off her.”
don’t know,” Harry replied. “I think
you have a case for collecting.”
Trio looked at Ginny again, and then, grinning, burst out into loud
cheers. Ron and Hermione led a rousing
chorus of “Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead!,” which left a manic little voice
repeating ‘She’s really most completely
dead!’ in the back of Harry’s head, that he could not get rid of until after
dinner. Their exuberant shouts drew the attention of Severus Snape, who was
himself so overjoyed that he forgot to take points off Hermione for bringing a
library book outside. As he raced off
to share the news, Hermione grinned.
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all.
We’ve all lost our bets.”
The castle’s bells pealed merrily as the entire student
body poured out to celebrate.
Dumbledore declared a feast on the spot, added fifty points each to
Gryffindor’s start-of-year points for next term, and suspended Ginny’s body
from the ceiling of the Great Hall for all to marvel at.
After dinner, stuffed and replete, the Trio were resting
in the Gryffindor Common Room. They had
achieved every one of their goals, every single thing they had wanted.
“Although, technically, we didn’t kill Ginny,” Harry said, rather gloomily. “It just happened, by accident.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that how we always seem to win?” Ron
asked. “Anyone up for wizard chess?”
“There’s one thing that is bothering me,” Harry said,
thoughtfully. He declined the game, but
Hermione volunteered to be metaphorically slaughtered in his place. “It’s that transcending death business. What if … “ he swallowed hard, and then
continued, “What if she’s waiting for me, in the … you know, in the
afterlife? If there is such a
thing? How will we get rid of her
“Well, you have the rest of your life to find out,” Ginny
said perkily, sitting on the edge of Harry’s squashy chair. The fact that you could see right through
her seemed to make no difference to her, and Harry’s abortive startled jump,
which meant that he was now sitting half-in, half-out of her body, had no
effect, either. “Oh, Harry, you’ve finally figured it out,” Ginny cooed, wiping
a ghostly tear of happiness from her pearly cheek. “I died thinking of you, my love, and so I am linked to you. Whither thou goest and all that. And,” she added, her translucent eyes
narrowing prettily, “Don’t even think about marrying another woman! Just because I’m dead is no reason for you
to be unfaithful—now that I’m dead, I can see your secret, inmost heart.”
The Trio stared at her in horror. Harry felt his secret inmost heart curling
up into a shriveled raisin.
“And if you tried,” Ginny added sweetly, “I could be far
more menacing than old Fruma Sarah!”
twirled about in the air, laughing a high, giddy, sickeningly merry laugh. You know, this is so much fun, being dead,
and I’ve already improved on the post-mortem reanimation conditions,” Ginny
said. “I can taste things I like, and
won’t taste those I hate. And see? I’m not grey, but sort of washed out
color. It’s not perfect, of course, but
it’s a start—I have eternity to work on the formulae for improving my color
still further. Speaking of which,” she
said, summoning a ghost-owl to her side and scribbling a hasty note, “I need to
remind Miss Loomis that there was a death-does-not-cancel clause in her
contract.” She stood up briskly, and
looked at the other three, who had fainted dead away. “Some people just have no
tolerance for love, do they?’
sent the owl on its way.
Authors’ Note II:
There is no way we could make up anything as insane as the Secret Cow
Level on Diablo II. It
is an in-joke, apparently. If you play Diablo
II and need instructions on how to access
the Secret Cow Level, just to see for yourself that we are NOT kidding, click here.