𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. fred weasley

𝚡. 𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜

✦✧✦

"So, you're telling me that if someone - say my brother - called you 'Little Weasley', you'd just sit down and take it?"

Ginny stares at Cress as though she's mad in the head, but Cress thinks that she is asking a very valid question. She looks at Axel for conformation, but he doesn't even look up from his giant textbook to nod, which is very unhelpful, thanks Axel. Looking back at Ginny, she sees that the freckled girl is twirling her quill around in her hand and Cress doesn't know how she does it, but the girl looks like she could kill someone three different ways with that quill. And she's only in her third year. It both scares Cress and makes her respect Ginny so much more.

(Cress does not want to see what her future years are going to bring her. She takes a moment to feel bad for any male or female specimen who gets in Ginny's way and feels lucky that Ginny (maybe?) considers her a friend.)

Finally, Ginny shakes her head. "If someone called me 'Little Weasley', they probably wouldn't see daylight again." Cress swallows down a nervous laugh and fiddles with her own quill. "But I suppose it's better than 'Fred and George's baby sister' or 'Harry Potter's best friend's baby sister.'"

And okay, that might be true, but still. "Ginny, come on! Work with me here."

"I am, Cress." Ginny rolls her eyes and pushes her thick, fiery locks over her shoulder. (Menacing.) "What you're asking me to do is just ridiculous, however, and I will not do something so stupid."

Cress pouts. "It's not stupid." Ginny glares at her. "Okay, so it's a little stupid, but I can't tell them to stop because then that'd be me-actually, no. I've told them to stop calling me 'Little Diggory, but they never heed my warnings and I just don't have the patience in me to do it anymore. Which is why I need you to strike the fear of Salazar into them and get them to stop calling me by that ridiculous nickname."

Ginny rolls her eyes again and Cress wonders how someone could be so much younger than her and still a lot scarier. It's mind blowing, really. Ginny scribbles something down on her parchment and then stares at Cress with narrowed, brown eyes. Around them, students pass their table and move through the bookshelves, hurried and frantic. Most of them are fifth years, like Cress, and they're stressing over their O.W.L.s and all their extra homework for the preparation of the O.W.L.s. She understands their pain considering she's been in here since the crack of dawn.

"Yes, I understand that you want them to stop calling you that horrid nickname, but it's not really my problem is it?" says Ginny. When Cress stares at her, offended, Ginny shrugs. "Sorry, let me rephrase that: Not really a problem that I care about."

"You are heartless," Cress says in outrage. "A heartless, heartless person."

"That's the result of growing up with six brothers," says Ginny, nonchalant and unfazed.