poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

harry potter - ginny weasley

081.

Winter in July. I reckon there's something comforting about a bit of routine or familiarity here for all the mad things that happen. Sort of like how I'm almost positive we'll have summer around Christmas and definitely mistletoe again—that was my first curse, of course, and it's happened every year since.

Though I'm never sure how to handle birthdays here. I mean, with people who aren't around anymore. It feels a bit weird to ignore them altogether because it isn't just another day back home, so why should it be here? Then again, you don't just go around throwing parties for an empty chair, either.

I used to visit the Hall of the Missing, but that's a bit depressing, don't you think?

[ private | deity filter: laszlo jamf ]

I've gone a few years without it coming to this, but I suppose there's a first time for everything. I'd like to make a trade and I've heard you're the one to speak to about it.

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Have something you like in their honour? Like their favourite food or drink or what their favourite movie. Something to remember them by, you know?

Oooooooooooooooooh~ Me, in particular?

Flattered, I'm sure.

We've all the capabilities, but it's nice to know I'm Mr. Popular.

I think I'll put that on my nametag for the day. "Mr. Popular."

Do go on.

[She starts laughing.]

Treacle tart tomorrow and maybe spend today in the gardens, then?

I know that, but I'm not especially fond of talking to complete strangers—and I at least know your name.

[Only because, by some stroke of luck, she remembers a conversation she had with Pavel before she left the City. If she wanted to make a trade, speak with this deity because he was fair. And she does trust Pavel.]

I was almost twenty years old before I went home a few weeks ago, now I'm not. I— [Well, here it goes.] —would like those years back.

We can do that.

Make me an offer.

[She's spent the month thinking this over and she hates, more than anything, the idea of toying with memories, but that's all she's ever heard about with these things. And it had to be something good, didn't it.]

My memories of people from my world ever being here. [Because she can't part with memories made at home.] Apart from the one brother who is here now, of course. But the rest—my boyfriend, my family, my classmates, all the time I spent with them... You could take those.

[If that's not enough, she has something else to add.]

I could certainly take those. That, I think, would very much suffice.

I admit the first half of this post sailed right over my head, but the second half, now, that's different. The party wouldn't be for an empty chair- it'd be for the person who used to occupy it. And really, who needs an excuse for a party?

[pause]

The Hall of the Missing...is that the place with all the portraits?

That's it, then?

[Do I get them back at all?]

What happens next?

Well, for one thing you'll have to come sign off on the papers for all this to be good an official. Fice has a fetish for papers. There are more of them now than before.

Bring two pens.

[ooc: If you'd like for her to get her memories back, that's fine. This is, relatively speaking, a pretty small trade: she's just getting aged back up. So if you'd like for her to regain these memories after a period of, say, 4 to 6 weeks, that would be fine.]

I can do that.

Could even bring a quill if that'll make things more interesting.

[ooc; thanks, darling! i shall make a note of that.]

How classical. If you want, I mean, I'm not going to stop you. Long as these things get signed.

That's all I ask.

[ooc: As you please, as you please~ Have fun with it! And please feel free to consider this trade as having been completed any time hereafter.]

What about the first bit didn't you get? Curses muck with the weather and it happens more often than we think, is all. And you, Bolin—

[She laughs.]

I think you're the one who never needs an excuse to party. Am I right?

Yeah, that's it. Portraits of people who've been here and gone home.

I'll come by after the thirty-first, then. [Because, come on. It's Harry's birthday.] Thank you, sir. Seems like Pavel was right, you've been very reasonable. Couldn't ask for more than that.

[ooc; will do! thank you. :D]

We'll be waiting, then.

And you're entirely too kind.

What can I say? Mum and Dad raised us well.

I followed you up until you reached the Christmas and mistletoe mark. That's where things went out of bounds. Is it time for a patented Ginny Explanation? [HE EMPLOYS HIS EAGER FACE. Er, one of them, anyhow.]

And excuse you, I do not appreciate the implication that I am predictable! Even...if...you are right. Shush, my feelings are delicate.

[and he nods in a contemplative manner]

Rita made a post from inside of it- there were more portraits than you could count.

You don't have Christmas in your world? [She can't help but look a little surprised, even though she knows she shouldn't be.] It's a holiday in winter.

[She chuckles.]

Oi, I've said nothing of the sort! Hardly predictable, just—there's a certain kind of person. And not a bad sort, either. Don't let the City change that about you, though, alright? The Hall's just another one of those reminders you don't need.

Speaking of birthdays, we ought to do something for yours.

We might. I mean, the world- any world -is a big place and I haven't traveled every single corner of it, you know? Not by half! In my little corner, however, there is no Christmas. Or mistletoe. And I can't begin to imagine what mistletoe is.

[he tilts his head to the side]

Change what? My happy-go-lucky attitude? Never fear, I am like a rock.

I'm not the only Weasley born in August, Perce.

Christmas is a holiday in December, and usually we get some random bit of summer right in the middle of winter then. But it's basically a time for loads of food, family, friends, gifts. A celebration.

And mistletoe, well. [She grins.] It's a plant. Tradition has it that you snog, er, kiss whoever you run into under it. But in the City, there tends to be a curse where it turns up everywhere and you're kind of... forced to do it.

[She tips her head.]

I'm sure you are. I know blokes like you, it's a good thing.

See, there you go! You get to have a good time out of it too, so it's win-win.

I'd have to be a good baker to make a tart worthy of a birthday, though. And I'm afraid I'm only halfway decent.

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