Ginger Malfoy

The Train and the Sorting

The train ride began with a bang.  Ginger's cousin Rose Weasley had set off some kind of bomb in the lavatory, no doubt the invention of her Uncle George.  She took after her uncles like that.  She had the Weasley sense of humor, but you could also tell that she had the brains of a Granger.  She had proved in her first five minutes on the train that she could talk her way out of anything and that she was deviously clever.

Ginger already knew who she would be spending her time at Hogwarts with.  She was sitting with them in her car.  Her cousin Rose, who shared her reddish-orange hair color and her Weasley blood, and Albus Potter, her best friend and partner in crime.

Considering the parentage of her two friends, they were practically a reincarnation of the Golden Trio.  Even though Ginger's parents weren't in the original Golden Trio, she was sure that her and her best friends could be like a Silver Trio or something.  Ginger smiled at her friends but then had a sudden urge to get up.  She excused herself and exited the car.

As she turned the corner out of the box, she slammed into a girl with brown puppy dog eyes and black hair.  "Oh, I'm sorry," Ginger apologized.  She stood up and looked worriedly at the girl before her.  The brown-eyed girl smirked and accepted her apology.  Then her smirk turned into a look of question.  "Are you, by any chance, the daughter of Draco Malfoy?"

"Yeah, I am, why?"  Ginger replied, stunned that she could recognize her father in her.

"Your father took my mother to the Yule Ball."

Ginger smiled incredulously and replied, "You're Pansy Parkinson's daughter?"

The girl nodded, "Pansy Zabini now."

"I never knew that Pansy and Blaise were together.  But now that you mention it, you do look a lot like him.  Huh."

The girl nodded then made a sudden realization.  "Oh, I haven't introduced myself.  I'm Lobelia Zabini.  And you?"

"Ginger Malfoy," Ginger replied, secretly wondering why Pansy was still stuck on the flower-themed names.  "Glad to meet you, Lobelia.  Where are you sitting?"

Lobelia winced.  "I was just in a car with some Slytherin fifth-years.  My sister's in that car and she was willing to have me with her, but her friends don't like me at all."

"Come sit with us," Ginger offered.  "My friends would be happy to meet you."

Lobelia's smile grew and she followed Ginger back to her car.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The four pairs of eyes in Ginger's car stared out the window as the shadow of Hogwarts became visible.  A shiver ran down Ginger's spine and Rose struggled to chew her chocolate frog.  Albus looked quiet and content, but he was surely thinking about something, as his parents always were.  Lobelia was chatting away about the Sorting and about her parents and about many many things that everyone else could barely keep track of.  She was an agreeable and social person, but everyone could tell that she really liked to talk.  At least it made the train ride less boring.

The train stopped and everyone began to get off.  They joined the other first years who were surrounding Professor McGonagall in a massive semicircle.  She was talking about the Sorting.  A rush of nervousness and joy went through Ginger.  She could hardly understand what McGonagall was saying in her distracted state.

The first years entered the school and got in line for Sorting.  Ginger was half paying attention.  She was called to full attention by Albus.  "Look," he said, "Nara Longbottom made Gryffindor."  Ginger turned, smiled, and clapped along with everyone else.

Lobelia was next.  Then it was Rose.  Then Albus.  Then Ginger.

"Hmm," the Sorting Hat mused over Lobelia, "this isn't quite a difficult decision.  Your parents were Slytherin and a Slytherin you shall be."

Rose was next and the Sorting Hat laughed.  "Another Weasley, eh?  And your mother is Hermione Granger, how nice.  Hmm.  You too shall follow your parents.  Gryffindor!"

Albus nervously stepped up for his Sorting.  "Oh," the Sorting Hat gasped.  "Here's Harry Potter's son.  You're not like him, though.  He could have made a fine Slytherin, yes.  But you, you're different.  You're not a Slytherin.  Or a Gryffindor, for that matter.  You are a...Ravenclaw!"  

Rose and Ginger clapped and cheered but then Ginger's heart jumped in to her throat.  It was her turn.  She walked up to the stool and allowed the hat to be placed on her smooth red-orange waves.

"My goodness!" the hat said.  "Draco and Ginny's little girl.  Sworn enemies, they were, at least while I knew 'em.  A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.  I'm not sure.  You're brave, it's true, but you are also cunning and clever like your father.  You're pure-blood, if that means anything.  That red hair says you should be put into Gryffindor like your mother, uncles, and cousins.  But those silver eyes say to make you a Slytherin like your father.  I think you're a SLYTHERIN!"

Ginger gasped and felt a wave of happiness.  Slytherin house was what she had secretly wanted all these years.  She wanted to be like Draco.  She was like him in many more ways than appearance.  She stepped off the stool and stood by her friends.

She turned to her cousin and said jokingly, "Looks like we're enemies, Rose."

"Yeah," Rose replied, "now I have an excuse to play loud and messy practical jokes on you."  The girls laughed and turned to Albus.

"Congrats on making Ravenclaw, Albus," Rose whispered.  "Your mum will be so proud!"

"Yes," agreed Ginger.  "And so will your dad!  Your parents will be just as proud as we are.  Your dad had always thought you'd be a Ravenclaw like your mother."

After the feast, which was amazing to the first years, Lobelia and Ginger retreated back into the Slytherin common room.  Ginger had to admit that the common room, near the dungeons, was a little unnerving, but so was the rest of the castle, if you thought about it like that.

The older Slytherins greeted them somewhat warmly, but the sixth and seventh-years seemed to have a distaste for Ginger.  Probably because she was half of a Weasley.  Slytherins didn't tend to like Weasleys.  But Ginger didn't really mind.  If they didn't like her, she would find people who did.  Ginger and Lobelia went to their rooms and found everything unpacked already.  They took this chance to admire their new Slytherin robes in the mirrors.  Ginger felt that she looked perfect.

Cissa hooted at a loose chocolate frog who was hopping around the room.  Lobelia threw a hairbrush at it and it fell limply to the ground.  Lobelia walked over to where it lay and ate her prey.  Ginger laughed.  She already loved her new friend.

She lay down on her bed and studied a bit from her brand-new textbooks, even though she hadn't had any classes yet.  She had picked this up from Aunt Hermione and Rose, no doubt.  Ginger didn't mind.  Her study habits would pay off dearly when homework started coming in.

Tiredness overcame her.  Ginger whispered goodnight to Lobelia and began to fall asleep thinking about her parents and her day.  Her last thought before she nodded off was I am a cunning, clever, silver Slytherin.