Chapter 13
“Look, it’s your life. You can do whatever you like,” Pansy said and went back to her book.
Ginny bit her lip. Bill and Percy were her only studious brothers, and they were the brothers she had the least interaction with. She’d grown up in an environment where studying hard was a cardinal sin, where being cool and well liked was a sink or swim affair.
And Bill really only got away with it because he was the oldest, had one of the coolest jobs in the world, and wasn’t uptight like Percy. Got away with it… Why did she care? This was the same family that had abandoned her the moment she had refused to be re-sorted. Wasn’t Hermione, someone who rivalled Percy for studiousness, one of the coolest and most intimidating witches she knew?
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
Pansy looked up, a wicked grin on her face.
“Wonderful. Let’s go get your books.”
***
Three hours later, Ginny stared at her new school supplies. Pansy had been horrified at Ginny’s trunk and browbeaten her into letting her buy her a new, magically extended one. She had then insisted that Ginny get all of the known texts for the next six years—something Ginny had blanched at.
“By the time you're done this summer, I want you to be on third year material and only working on second year material as review.”
Ginny’s jaw had dropped.
“How?”
“Think about how much time is wasted at school. Honestly, if Granger weren’t such a perfectionist, she’d be close to O.W.L. level now with how hard she works. Don’t worry, we’ll make a schedule for you.”
Ginny gulped at that.
Then, Pansy had bought a seemingly random assortment of texts, each on completely different fields of magic.
“Err, what’s this for?”
“Research, find what you want your area of focus to be. Whatever you find interesting.”
Ginny nodded slowly. When Pansy was like this, you just went with it. Even Tom had given up fighting the tide of her whims.
Next, without explanation, Pansy through floo powder into her fireplace, called out “Granger Residence,” and pushed Ginny in, following after.
Stumbling through the grate, Ginny took in her first sight of a muggle home.
“Hello?”
Hermione Granger came around the corner, wand raised. When she saw them, the tension left her and she glared at Pansy.
“Stop doing that.”
“I refuse to get on my hands and knees like some commoner and shout until someone comes running, Granger.”
“It’s not polite to just enter someone’s home unannounced.”
“Then find a way for me to announce myself. Until then—”
“Hi Ginny,” Hermione said in much more polite tones.
“She pushed me through,” Ginny said immediately. Pansy rolled her eyes at her.
“I figured. What can I help you with?”
“I have found our newest member.”
“Err, she’s a year behind.”
“She’ll catch up. She’ll join us for next year’s review sessions. We need to make her a schedule.”
If Pansy Parkinson’s whims were a tidal wave, mentioning schedules in front of Hermione Granger invoked a gale force hurricane. Ginny, caught between two natural disasters, let them sweep her away.
By the end of a three hour session, in which Hermione and Pansy argued over the minutiae of her study plan, Ginny’s head was hurting. Her schedule was intense to say the least. She would be spending seven hours a day studying each of her subjects. The weekend’s were set aside to look into magic and careers that interested her. Pansy had insisted on this and Hermione had quickly agreed.
Her first day on her new schedule was horrible. She worked side by side with Pansy for three hours before she felt herself wanting to crawl out of her skin. Finally, she stood up and Pansy looked up.
“I can’t. I can’t just sit and…”
“Then go for a walk?”
“What? Don’t I have to stay here?” She pointed at the schedule.
“Obviously not. I’m not your goaler. Just add a lunch break and whatever else you need. As long as you get the work done it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh…”
“Go. Shoo.” Pansy waved her away.
Ginny found that walking did indeed get some of the restlessness out of her system. She returned and sat down next to Pansy, who seemed to have not looked up from her book since Ginny left.
***
Ginny slapped a small booklet, one of the many extracurricular books Pansy had bought her, down in front of the girl.
“Can you help with this?”
“What?” Pansy asked, picking it up.
“The auror training manual. It requires at least two people to do some of the exercises.”
“You want to do auror exercises?”
Ginny nodded, and to her surprise, Pansy grinned.
Ginny was regretting ever asking for Pansy’s help. Rather than the recommended stinging hexes, Pansy had hid behind doorways and furniture, launching boils charms, bat-bogey hexes, and skin to mucus transfigurations at her.
The first time, Ginny had been furious. Pansy’s only response had been that it would motivate her to learn faster.
Ginny wasn’t so sure. Rather than set training drills, Pansy would hide whenever Ginny entered the apartment. Sometimes she would randomly fire spells at Ginny while they were working together.
“It says ‘constant vigilance’ right here, Ginny,” she would say whenever Ginny got fed up with having her ears turned into hummingbirds or her front teeth grown out of proportion.
All of this pushed Ginny to learn deflection and shield charms. And when she first deflected a spell from Pansy back into the girl, she grinned broadly. Pansy was less enthused.
“You prat!” Pansy said. The words were muffled by the giant beaver teeth she was growing. She pointed her wand at herself and shrunk them.
“Constant vigilance, Pansy,” Ginny chided and the girl glowered at her. The next day’s worth of hexes sent her way were a lot meaner.
***
Ginny stared at the paper.
Her family was on the front page, all smiling, in Egypt. She crumpled it up and threw across the room. An explosion of accidental magic caused it to combust. Ginny winced, and the door flew open a second later.
“Are you okay?” Pansy asked.
“Yeah…”
“Got the paper?”
“Yeah. They really spent it.”
“The Prophet Draw?”
“It’s like they want to be poor!” Ginny exclaimed in sudden fury. “Seven Hundred Galleons! Do you know how many were in our vault beforehand?”
Pansy shook her head.
“Five.”
Pansy gaped at her.
“That’s… what?”
“That’s a fortune for us! I can’t—”
“But that’s… that’s insane,” Pansy said.
“You know my family is poor.”
“Yeah but there’s no way you cost that much.”
“Dad isn’t paid super well in the Ministry and mom’s at home full time.”
“But Ginny. I make forty galleons a week selling potions in Knockturn. How—”
“You what?”
“I make restricted potions and sell them here. How do you think I have enough to afford everything?”
“Your trust vault.”
“Please.”
“Pansy, you’re working and spending it on me?”
“Well your trunk was hideous…”
“That’s not the point!”
“We’re not talking about me. You were telling me why your parents don’t do any number of things to make money.”
“I don’t know! Dad’s almost proud of it. My whole family… I don’t know.” Ginny ran her hands through her hair in agitation. Then she looked at Pansy.
“Can I help you make potions?”
Pansy wrinkled her nose.
“Are you good at potions?”
“Err… I’m alright.”
Pansy eyed her for a moment.
“If you can make me a perfect Strengthening Solution, we’ll draw up a contract.”
“Pansy, we’re friends, we don’t need a contract.”
“This is exactly why your family is poor!” Pansy said and stomped out of the room.
The next day, Pansy pulled a surly Ginny from her room. While she normally didn’t mind Pansy’s comments about her poverty—the girl wasn’t exactly loaded anymore herself, she was feeling extra sensitive about her family.
She grudgingly followed the girl and stopped as they came upon a large group of people in their living room.
Astrid, Luna, Hermione, and Neville were standing in front of her.
“Hi,” Ginny said in surprise.
“We are here to take your mind off of the fact that her entire family went on vacation and for some reason that merited front page news,” Pansy said. “Aurellia was forbidden from speaking to me this summer, so she couldn’t make it.”
Hermione groaned.
“I thought Slytherins were supposed to be subtle.”
Ginny hugged each of her friends and smiled at Neville, who looked a little awkward amongst people he didn’t know that well. Then she hugged Pansy.
“Thanks.”
“Of course. First stop is Twilfitt. Astrid, I know you like potions, but you are absolutely not wearing those filthy things any longer.” Astrid looked down at her splotched and stained robes and shrugged.