🎪
*Is asked to write about a creepy carnival; barely gets to the carnival, let alone the creepy*
Ummm enjoy this fluff instead ig?
You didn’t specify a ship so obviously i had two options, and i was kinda missing lightning era so…
Growing up with the twins, Halloween was the most dangerous holiday. It was Fred and George’s favorite, and they never turned down an excuse to celebrate, usually with far more tricks than treats. It only stands to reason, then, that they would instigate a Diagon Alley Halloween carnival.
“The war’s been over for five years,” Fred had said at the last Weasley family dinner. “People could stand to get scared again.”
“Fred!” Molly had admonished, scandalized.
“I almost died,” Fred replied cheekily. “I can be a bit glib about it.”
And sure, Ginny’s glad Fred can joke about things, but she’d be the first to admit that not everyone can. Luna and Harry still get nightmares and George’s still missing an ear and Tonks is still dead. Moving on, she has learned, is a luxury.
Ginny still helps with the carnival, though, spreading the word to the rest of Diagon and the British wizarding world as a whole. Despite everything, by the time the day comes, she’s excited. She can’t remember the last time there was such a big gathering for something that had nothing to do with the war. (It was the Quidditch Cup and she knows this and she ignores it.)
“A carnival?” Narcissa sniffed when she heard about it, and Ginny had laughed and teased her lover:
“Something us commonfolk do for fun.”
“I know what a carnival is, Ginerva,” Narcissa returned smoothly. “But there are countless better ways to spend one’s Halloween.”
“Maybe so, but we’re going.” Ginny grinned. “We can do Halloween your way after.”
“I suppose I can settle for that.”
“What is your way, anyway?” Ginny had continued halfmindedly, turning her attentions back to breakfast which, as usual, she had made, Narcissa’s cooking skills not extending far beyond the ability to boil water. Narcissa shrugged delicately, a sure warning sign.
“Oh, you know, it’s Halloween; a bit of costumes, roleplay…”
Ginny went still.
“Temptress,” she accused.
“Only for you, darling.”
(Breakfast, also as usual, was forgotten and left to cool.)
Now, Ginny surveys Diagon, one of Narcissa’s hands in hers. Narcissa has poor circulation and her hands are freezing; Ginny casually casts a warming charm on them, receiving a sweet smile in return, the kind Narcissa spares for few.
Fred and George are here, there, and everywhere; darting giddily from one end of the carnival to another. Bill carries little Victoire on his shoulders, and Ron and Harry pass by in a blur, off to wherever Hermione and Draco are.
“Where to first?” Ginny asks, bouncing on her heels.
“Anywhere,” Narcissa says, her quicksilver eyes taking in the sights with reluctant interest.
“They set up these catacombs beneath Diagon, basically a creepy maze,” Ginny offers, watching Narcissa carefully. She wants to pick something she will like too, dammit.
“I meant it, you know,” Narcissa says, leading her down the crowded street to where the sign for the catacombs is plastered above Amanuensis Quills. “I’m here to spend time with you, whatever we do.”
And, well, Ginny kinda has to kiss her for that.
