Without the raisin

Szaranea

Rating: G
Genres: Angst
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 23/04/2004
Last Updated: 23/04/2004
Status: completed

Ginny Weasley muses about the proverbial raisins in the cake, coming to an unusual conclusion.

Chapters

1. Chapter the first and last

1. Chapter the first and last

Without the raisin

Disclaimer: I don’t own them.

Summary: Ginny Weasley muses about the proverbial raisins in the cake, coming to an unusual conclusion.

Author’s notes: this is just a little semi-philosophic something from somebody who lacks the depth to be even quarter-philosophic. Don’t bite my head off

There’s a saying about picking the raisins out of the cake. When someone picks the raisins out of their cake, then it means that they only take the best, and leave the rest.

Is that how life is supposed to go? Because, if the raisins are the best part of the whole thing, then soon the world would be covered in cake. Are there even enough raisins for everyone? I suppose there aren’t.

What would they do with all the cake then? What would happen to strawberry cake? What would happen to blueberry muffins? What does happen with them?

They give it to those who can’t get any raisins. Those worst off get Hagrid’s rock cakes, I suppose. There’s a whole hierarchy of cake, I guess. And the raisin resides at the top.

I can’t really blame anybody for it. It’s in man’s nature to strive for the raisin, so to speak. It is in man’s nature to throw everything less than raisin away.

What would the world be like if the raisin had never existed? Would we miss the sense of freedom? Would it mean a reign of evil?

Aren’t we slaves to the raisin as well? Are we really that free? Our search for delicious binds us, like our attempts to get away from the rest bind us. And those who have the raisins are those we try to be friendly with. Who has raisins in this life, though? Are it those who are rich and influential? Are it those who have love? Are it those who are simply lucky? Do I have raisins?

What if somebody were to hate raisins? Take me, for example. These past few months I have developed an intense dislike to the dried grapes. They make me feel sick now. They are too sweet. They are too sticky. I used to love raisins. I used to eat my weight in raisins. When I was younger, I loved raisins.

People change. It is scientifically proven that our taste buds get less sensitive with the years. Mine don’t seem to work that way.

But it is also a fact that, if you have to much of something, you will start to dislike it.

Is it my body, that is refusing the raisins, or is it my mind?

And so I’m sitting here, my muffin in hand, picking the raisins out, eating the rest. I don’t think that I could eat the raisins. I don’t even like the faint taste of them, that is still there after I picked them out.

Am I looking for something bad to happen to me? – I should hope not.

Do I want to seek out evil? – I have, and it’s not pleasant.

Is that why I love you? – I love you? – I do.

Are you my muffin? – I guess you are.

Am I your raisin? – I don’t think I am.

Will I ever be it? – I might want to.

Don’t you think it’s sardonic that I want to be the one thing I despise most?