"Ginny!" Molly Weasley screeched at the sight of her youngest. "What is thi... What have you done to yourself?"

Opposite her, infront of a mirror, stood young Ginny Weasley.  With scissors in her hands and chopped up hair around her on the ground. One look at her and Molly's temper touched the sky! She marched into the room and snatched the scissors from Ginny's hand in one clean swipe. Throwing the blade away, she grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and took a proper look at her.

Ginny's hair was chopped unevenly and in all sides. There was a long bunch and a shorter bunch, some thick, some thin, some half cut and a rare few left untouched. Her hair was a mess but her face, it was a whole different story. Her face was flushed red, red enough to rival ripe tomatoes. Some might say it is the Weasley curse. Pale skin and ginger hair made them look like they are on fire whenever their cheeks got a little colour. Her flushed face was complemented by her eyes, flashing dangerously and daring mutinously.

Ginny knew her mother was angry and that she was in trouble. But she wasn't afraid. She had inherited her mother's temperament, this she is quick to anger and slow to calm down. And boy, she hasn't settled down from her recent temper spike. If her mother scolds her, she knew she wasn't going to keep quiet!

"You stupid, stupid girl! What have you done? Your hair, my goodness... Why did you cut your hair?" Molly questioned, her voice taking on that whip-like tone and her hands reaching their perch on her waist. Her normal stance while dealing with the misbehaviour of her kids.

"I cut my hair because I don't want to be a girl. Now I have short hair and I'm no different from them, boys!" Ginny presented her justification rather vehemently. The anger, mixed with desperation, in her voice threw Molly off-guard. Taking advantage of her momentary lack of response Ginny plowed on.

"They won't let me on their brooms. They say girls are weak, that I shouldn't play with them. Ron said girls are awful and pathetic. Fred and George too laughed with him. Mom, they are laughing at me because I'm a girl.  I don't want to be girl!"

By this time, her body was shaking in anger and indignation, like a leaf in wind. Her fury seeped out of her eyes as tears, as she looked beseechingly at her mother. A silent plea for support and comfort and a staunch refusal to eat crow or apologise.

Following Ginny's little outburst, that is if it can be called that, Molly grounded her boys, with appropriate ear twisting and more than enough talking-to. Ginny got them too as Molly salvaged her hair to the best of her abilities, chopping off some more to even out the edges. And then she was grounded too, for letting the boys get to her and acting out. Ginny accepted it with every bit of the rightful indignation of one who is wrongly punished.

Later that night, Molly went to Ginny room with hot chocolate. One look at her, Ginny sprung out of her bed and hugged her. Now that the time for disciplining and tough love is over and out, it was time for some hugs, comfort and tender love. She let Ginny cry on her shoulders, whispered sweet nothings on her ears, gave her the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and even tucked her in after she had tired herself out with all the crying.

Before leaving though, Molly said, " Ginny, I know you are a girl and they are boys. You are different from them. But that doesn't mean you are any less than them.

"Now, you can cut your hair and try to be more of a boy. But let me tell you sweet girl, looking like a boy won't change anything if you don't feel content and confident about yourself. So, embrace it, Ginny, embrace every last bit of what makes you you. Your appearance, your personality, you femininity. And show them that you are just as able and just as special. Never let anyone make you feel otherwise."

Molly departed with a kiss on her forehead. Ginny wouldn't understand her words, not fully anyway. But over the years, she would. And then decades and decades later, looking at the rebellious look on her daughter's face, so similar to hers, she would smile with fond remembrance and great gratitude.

*********

This is... something, I guess. I'm really skeptical about how this has turned out. So do share your views. I actually have these snaps, scenes about what happened behind the scenes in the novel, how this character turned out like this, how this event affected that character, kind of ideas! They are pretty amazing in my mind, and I'll try to bring out the amazing-ness in written form too!

Until next time!