Teenage Actor by Strawberry Shortcake

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 6
Published: 08/08/2005
Last Updated: 15/08/2005
Status: In Progress

War is upon the wizarding world, and as usual nothing is as it seems. Hogwarts is no different
and Ginny must try to find out who she is or risk being consumed by the surrounding darkness. As
she makes her descent, will anyone notice? Will they even care?




1. Prologue
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Luna Lovegood-Weasley was old, old and tired. Time had been more of a burden, more of a trial,
than any war she had encountered in her lifetime. Time had weakened her mind and destroyed her
body, but at least she was still alive.

Sitting in a wooden rocking chair she swayed forward and backwards watching her great-grand
children scrambling around the family living room. It seemed like only yesterday she watched Ron
playing with their newborn son in that room, but it wasn't only yesterday, it was almost 65
years ago.

Had it really been that long?

Her granddaughter, Genevieve Finnigan, came rushing in to the room, attempting to collect her
children. Moans of disappointment started to sound and Luna let out a chuckle.

“Genevieve, leave Liam and Alyson here. I'm sure Ronald and I can watch them,” Luna stated
in a motherly tone, motioning the two young children over. Echoes of the word “pleeeeeeeeeease”
were heard, directed at the reluctant mother, until Genevieve finally let out a sigh and
conceded.

“Fine, but I expect to pick you up tomorrow morning, no exceptions,” A chorus of high-pitched
yeas sounded and the children went back to their games. Genevieve made her way over to Luna and
kneeled so they were about the same height.

“Gran, are you sure Grandpa and you can handle them? A group of five-year-old children are a
handful and you are getting older,” The younger woman stated in a calm voice. Luna reached out and
grabbed her hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles she shooed her granddaughter on her way.

She had raised over 17 children. She knew how it was done.

Later that night the sleepy children lay around the fire place warming their feet and roasting
marshmallows. All was quiet until Rosalie Weasley spoke up.

“Gran, tell us a story,” She asked, oh so sweetly. The other children soon joined their cousin
in the pleading, and Luna came up with an idea.

“Well this is a story about a princess, named Ginny, and a prince named Draco.

This story is called Teenage Actor.”

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2. Chapter 1
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**Once upon a time…**

*The wizarding world was ravaged by attack. The methods fouler, the curses deadlier, and the
stakes higher than any war preceding it. It was said to be the war to end all wars.*

*Per usual man had counted his chickens before they hatched and came up with a number several
figures too high.*

*Later in history, when students were bored to death by the trivial facts of this war by a
teacher like Professor Binns, they would wonder what was the big deal. Since the Second rise of
Voldemort, wars still existed, and they had only gotten worse as time and technology
advanced.*

*But for the sake of this story we will ignore all the events in history that have happened
since the war ended. After all with the knowledge, and information I now possess, I would not only
give a jaded version of the story, but also quite possibly miss the important points all
together.*

*In order for you to get an accurate perception of time, please do well to remember, we are
beginning in the year 1998, at the end of my fifth year at Hogwarts. You will also come to realize
that this story is told from my point of view, after all I was the only one there from the
beginning.*

*I was the only one who understood what was going on. The only person who felt the momentous
change in the Earth's spin. I recorded all the facts so someone would be able to tell the story
later on, with out speculation or inferring any of the wrong facts. I understood how big this was
going to be.*

*However, back then I was just a silly little girl, with silly big blue eyes, who kept a silly
journal about her silly friend's life.*

*But it was a good thing I did.*

The Daily Prophet became more of an obituary, than a newspaper as the war rolled on. It's
stark white pages lacking the moving pictures it once held in favor of crisp black letter spelling
out names and years were oddly reminiscent of their society.

Stark, bleak, and full of contrasts.

The Quibbler on the other hand was rapidly losing subscriptions. It appeared as though society
favored death over the truth.

How a-typical.

I don't remember when the pessimism started; all I knew was it felt natural and the
loneliness fueled it. Perhaps the sudden gaining of friends, and then loss of said friends started
the catalyst. Like I said, I don't remember.

Father was upset about magazine sales and had taken to wearing a flask of gin on his hip. He may
have been a great father, but he was a terrible drunk. He was not so much violent as he was weepy
and sad. He cried over everything from my mother's death to a burned out light bulb.

Since a young age I've learned not to mourn spilled milk.

The school year was rapidly spiraling downward to a depressing lack-luster finale, which would
carry over, into an equally depressing summer. There was nothing to look forward to anymore. War
had made sure of that.

Ginny, who is actually one of the two main characters in this story, had become a serial dater
amidst the confusion. Everyone deals with pain in their own ways, her ways just happened to be
those of a scarlet woman. She fluttered from one boy to the next entrancing them, and then leaving
them like little puppy dogs, eager to please her, eager to obey.

Her latest victim was the one and only Harry Potter, the boy who fell too hard. After the whole
deal with Voldemort and Dumbledore, Merlin rest his soul, he became a piece of work.

Always mumbling about Horcruxes and sounding a bit insane. Ginny didn't do crazy.

Much to the dismay of the wizarding world, she left him on the train ride home in-between his
eager planning of the final battle. He was just a little boy, and Ginny knew that.

Ginny wanted someone who would protect her above all else, and Harry put the light before
her.

Ginny wanted someone who gave her a challenge and in turn challenged her; Harry was merely
obedient.

Ginny wanted something better than Harry Potter.

Leaving the compartment that day, was one of the best and worst things that ever happened to
her. Among her brother's bellows of treason she had finally figured out what she wanted.

The only cost was her purity.

So she closed the door and never looked back to see a shell-shocked Hermione, a red faced Ron,
or a gaping Harry. Rather instead she made her way down the train, to the last compartment, which
held Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle

Sitting down there she said the words that change her life.

“Hello, I'm Ginerva.”

Thus began her descent into darkness.

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3. Chapter 2
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**…in a kingdom far far away…**

*Were ideals, not held by the majority of the wizarding world. Morals that were quickly
gaining popularity as the general public looked for results from the light side.*

*Finally their eyes had wandered past the brilliantly made up poster boy to the coffin of
Dumbledore. They had lost an icon, and as a result wanted something back. Something sustainable
that could be help in their hands and waved like a banner.*

*But all they had was a little boy, lost in his own world, by his choice alone.*

*I never fully understood how Ginny's actions on that fateful changed the war, till many
years later. I, like so many others, closed my eyes to that which I did not want to see.*

*Harry really loved Ginny in his cute childish way. Her leaving crushed his oh-so-fragile
state of mind. I see that now, but I didn't then. I, along with the general public, wanted to
believe that Harry was the infallible replacement for Dumbledore, but to put it simply, he
wasn't.*

*Like I've said before, he was just a little boy, thrown into a full-fledged tornado and
expected to stand his ground. It was only natural that he stumbled quite a bit first.*

*The light side, in the struggle to pull a magical winning rabbit out of their hat, forgot
that Harry was a mere human made of flesh and bone. He had no special powers, or extreme strength.
He was a mortal boy who was confused and scared.*

*I understand it now. Since I have experienced all these things, these terrors, I understand
them. I understand why Ginny left the light, and in some not-so-twisted way it makes sense to me.
My reasons for thinking this, however, cannot yet be revealed. It is far too early in the story. It
would ruin the surprise ending.*

*Life is just full of surprises.*

*I understand that now.*

I knew why Ginny left Harry. I didn't need to speculate on wrong reasons. Like I said
before, she wanted something else. She told me so, more or less, after Dumbledore's
service.

She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps, or
maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms or perhaps something as simple as not being second
best. At least, that's what I thought she was saying.

What ever it was she wanted, Harry didn't have it, do it, or even know what it was. Typical
male, totally oblivious.

I however, was not oblivious as to what was going on. I knew it was something important as soon
as she opened that compartment door.

I stood in the back drop and watched as she talked with Draco Malfoy's best…well I guess the
appropriate word would be friends, but I wasn't quite sure if that was an accurate
statement.

Now a days, I wasn't sure about many thing. My perception had been shifted so many times
with the current state of politics that things looked extremely different then they did last
week.

Every thing was darker, grimmer looking then it seemed last week.

But, that was only my personal opinion.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever *really* notices me. Do they ever see me? Do they even
care?

I'm sure that I can do fine on my own, but sometimes a girl just wants to be noticed. She
wants to hear that she's beautiful.

I think Ginny wants to hear that she's beautiful, but again, that's only my personal
opinion.

Everyone knows what that's worth. Loony Lovegood.

So I sat there in the shadows on that eventful train ride, no one in that compartment noticing,
me sitting up in their luggage rack, listening to their conversation. Living through their
lives.

I'm not really sure why Pansy let Ginny sit with them. It's not as though Pansy had any
reason to trust Ginny, or even like her. But she let her sit. She let her become submerged in their
world.

After the compartment door snapped shut again Pansy scooted closer to Blaise giving Ginny room
to sit, the faded burgundy velvet bunching up her jade green skirt as she slid along it. Goyle and
Crabbe resumed their game of exploding snap and Blaise opened the forum to talk.

“Ginerva, I've seen you at Slug Club meetings,” he said casually, lacing his fingers with
Pansy's. Obviously with Draco gone Blaise was marking his territory, and Pansy didn't mind
one bit as she leaned back into his arms.

“Quite boring, don't you agree?” Ginny remarked casually casting a furtive glance out the
compartment door, not quick enough to go unnoticed, but too quick to not arouse suspicions.

“Looking for someone special?” Pansy asked with a small sneer marring her glacial beauty. Pansy
really was pretty, in a Russian princess sort of way. She had the dark eyes and full bodied black
hair. Russian Princess.

“On the contrary. Making sure someone not special at all didn't follow me. Potter can be
quite the puppy,” She remarked flippantly, so out of character, as she pulled the trademark ribbons
binding her braids out. Her nimble fingers worked rapidly at unbraiding her thick red hair, giving
her a full sultry mane of hair.

Before this incident, I had never noticed just how beautiful Ginny was. She had lush curves,
sparkling brown eyes, and that hair. I would tell her she was beautiful, but I didn't say a
word. I listened, I watched, and I recorded.

The perfect little Ravenclaw.

“You have great hair,” Pansy stated, leaning forward and tugging on one of the crimson curls, in
an envious sort of fashion.

Pansy was a Slytherin through and through; always envious of what she didn't have, never
appreciating what she did.

“I know,” Ginny, replied with what sounded like a hint of vanity, as she pushed the curls over
her left shoulder.

“Ginerva, I may have underestimated you,” Blaise said in his cold, Slytherin-esqe demeanor,
looking at her in a calculating way.

“We shall have to remain in contact this summer,” Pansy replied, pulling out what looked like a
small white business card from her pocket.

“Owl me and I might reply,” The older girl said with a light smirk, as Ginny pocketed the
card.

“I'll consider it,” She said noncommittally, gathering together the few possessions she had
brought with her.

“Do more than consider,” Blaise said in a decidedly darker note, as he pulled down his and
Pansy's trunks disturbing my viewpoint.

“If you insist,” Ginny said lightly, my vision was obstructed, but I would guess that she was
smiling lightly, or smirking. It would only seem fitting in such a situation.

Once again the compartment door snapped shut, and I realized she had left, most likely to gather
her things.

So began the correspondence between three completely different people, Ginny the innocent, Pansy
the slut, and Blaise the mysterious. And if I wasn't mistaken, Ginny had initiated it.

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