A Royal Ball

Ginevra’s mouth fell open as she recognized those beautiful
robes, tears brimming in her eyes.

Her mother had loved those robes dearly. She wore them to every
party, every ball, every wedding. Yet they were still in perfect condition, and
that’s what was so magical about them.

The robes were of pastel pink, fine lace sewn onto the hems of
the cuff and collar. On the front was a silver broach, and pink ribbon accented
around it.

Grandmother Minerva was holding the very dress Ginny’s mother
wore underneath, a simple pastel pink gown to match.

“You did this for me?” Ginny asked in a breathless voice.

Hermione smiled happily as she took Ron’s arm. “We want you to
wear it to the Ball,” she said.

Ginny sniffed as she was handed the robes. She held them
against her chest, smiling at them all. “I will. . . Thank you so much.”

*~*~*~*

“Bloody robes,” Harry muttered, attempting to fasten the
difficult tie on the front of his new robes. The very ones his mother had
purchased from Madam Malkin’s.

“Make sure you keep that language in check, Harry James,” said
a deep voice.

Harry grinned at the reflection of his father in the mirror.
“Yes, Father.”

The night of the Ball. Harry was nervous about this. He had
attended Ball’s like these, but never one of his own. Such behaviour and fashion
was expected at one of these, as well as an engagement.

“Well -- I’m certain things will go smoothly,” James said,
helping Harry with the tie. “I just want you to know something.”

Harry turned about. “What?”

“No matter what decisions you make, I am very proud of you. And
so is your mother.”

Harry grinned again. “Is this one of those ‘moments,’
father?”

Try as he might, a reluctant smile spread across James’
features. “I was trying to be serious, young man.”

Harry laughed. “I know.”

He took a good look at his father as they stood before each
other.

James was wearing robes of emerald green, his golden crown
placed neatly atop his head. Lucky for him, most of the crown covered his untidy
hair.

Harry, however, would not be able to wear a crown with his
robes, though he had tried to tame his hair. Yes, another fruitless attempt.

“Come on, chaps, mustn’t keep the maidens waiting,” came
another voice.

Draco swaggered into the room, dressed in robes of fine black.

James clapped his large hands together, turning to his son.
“Are you ready, Harry?”

His son nodded.

“All right.”

*~*~*~*

“Hurry, Ginny, you shall be late.”

Ginevra slipped the pastel pink robes over her shoulders as
Hermione adjusted the bow in her hair.

“Done!”

Grandmother Minerva put a hand to her chest, beaming. “You look
just like your mother.”

Ginny stepped in front of the full-length mirror on the other
side of the small, cramped bedroom. Her robes littered the floor, ribbons lying
on the older girl’s bed.

“Do you really think so?” Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded in the reflection.

Ginny smiled. “Good.”

“Can we come in now?” came Ron’s voice through the door.

“Yes!”

The door opened and her older brother’s bright red hair
appeared.

He glowed at his little sister. “Just like Mum,” was all he
said as he stepped inside.

Remus smiled at Ginny from the doorway.

“So you think it’s okay?” she asked him.

“Perfect,” he said.

Ginny went to him and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Remus.”

She turned around and hugged everybody else.

“Hurry up, hurry up,” said Ron as she drew away from him last,
“you don’t want to miss the carriage. I’m not taking your bum to the
castle.”

Ginny smiled.

“Have a good time, dear,” said Grandmother Minerva, giving her
surrogate granddaughter a kiss on the cheek.

With another round of thanks, Ginny hurried out of the door.
She was spoken to by many of the family portraits on the wall. Some looked
disgusted, other’s looked bored, and many did not look. But that didn’t bother
her.

She met Pansy and Millicent at the bottom of the marble
staircase. Pansy was wearing hot pink robes, with many bows (too many, actually.
There was a rather large bow in her dark hair). Millicent was in a plain, bright
green.

“Erm -- are you ready?” Ginny asked awkwardly.

“Why Ginevra, I do like that colour on you,” Pansy said
loftily.

“Really?” Ginny asked, smoothing her hands down the front of
her new robes. “They were my mother’s.”

“Yes, it seems to bring out the colour of her eyes . . .”
Millicent agreed. “But . . . I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Not going to work?” Ginny asked, taking an automatic step
back. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, Ginevra,” Pansy began, a hand to her chin, “we’ve been
working rather hard to get to the prince . . .”

“And we don’t want anybody to ruin it,” said Millicent. “Now
that’s Fleur Delacour is out of the way, we can move right in on Prince Harry .
. . but not with you there.”

“B-but I promise I won’t be in the way,” Ginny said quickly. “I
--”

“It’s the fact that you’re considered our family,” Pansy said.
“We can’t have you embarrassing us, sister dearest.”

“But --”

Pansy and Millicent suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Ginny,
pulling at her beautiful robes, ripping them to pieces. Ginny choked as
Millicent grabbed the front broach and gave a hard tug and tore it off, tossing
it across the room. Pansy ripped the ribbon from her hair, and Ginny watched in
horror as her once beautiful robes fell to the floor in pieces. Even the front
the dress underneath was torn.

Then, Pansy and Millicent pushed her into a nearby broom
closet. Ginny watched desperately as she saw the light of a locking spell
through the keyhole, followed by the blue light of a silencing charm.

“No . . .”

*~*~*~*

“And now, I would like to introduce my son,” James announced to
the large crowd gathered in his hall.

All the women eagerly awaited Harry’s arrival. They nervously
fixed their hair, held compact mirrors to check their faces, or simply stood
nervously, watching the King for his word.

“Prince of Hogwarts, star Seeker of the Gryffindor Lions, and
my son, Harry James Potter!”

The crowd cheered as the double doors in the back opened,
revealing Harry.

“All right,” he murmured to himself as he smiled at the crowd.
“Here we go.”

*~*~*~*

Ginny stubbornly wiped at the tears on her cheeks, keeping them
from falling onto what was left of her robes.

She knew it was stupid, that she wouldn’t be able to fix them,
but they were important to her. They were the last physical piece that she had
of her mother, and . . . now they were gone.

She could hear her brother’s voice through the door.

“I hope Ginny’s having fun tonight,” he was saying.

“All those people, and the castle should be a sight to see,”
said Grandmother Minerva’s voice.

Ginny wiped at her eyes again. Even if she shouted at the top
of her lungs, they wouldn’t be able to hear her through the door.

“Wotcher Ginny, cheer up.”

Ginny gasped as she heard a woman’s voice behind her. She
scrambled to her feet as she saw a small fuchsia star in the dark corner of the
small closet, illuminating the woman’s very short hair, which was the colour of
stardust.

“Hello Ginevra. I’m Tonks, your Fairy Godmother.”