Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Ginevra Molly Potter (bat_bogeys) wrote in silverage,

Ginny was not adjusting well. She didn't like being forced away from her family. She didn't like the unexpected snow (though it was about on par with what she'd left, so at least there was an echo of familiarity). She found it extremely weird that people she'd known to be dead were ten to twelve years her juniors here, and while she'd only spoken to Lily, she knew Sirius and Remus and Severus were here as well.

It was beyond weird, and she'd simply had to get out of the welcome center. Lily had loaned her some money and gave her a crash course on American Muggle monetary transactions, and they'd discussed various job options. Writing was probably right out in this time, and the idea of learning how to operate a typewriter was almost laughable.

Still, she'd do what she had to do to get by. To get home, because that was all she cared about. Home. Back to Harry, to her children. To her job, to her house.

Ginny stepped into the diner, armed with a newspaper and the intention of finding at least ten job leads before she left. Of course, finding something she could do -- or fake -- was going to be a trick and a half, but there it was. Standing just inside the door, she stomped the worst of the slush off her boots and ran her fingers through her hair to get out any snow that had fallen on it. She had her wand tucked into her pocket, the handle of it jutting out. There had been a cautioning statement about it, but she was accustomed to having it there. Tucking it up her sleeve was a habit she'd gotten out of ages ago, and it would slow her draw if she had it there.

Let the Muggles think what they would of it. Apparently 'weird' was normal here. Plunking herself down at a random table, Ginny pulled out the bits of paper and coin that Lily had given her, lining them up in front of the newspaper as she tried to work out how much she had versus what things cost on the menu. It was turning out to be a tricky process though, and she made a slightly frustrated noise as she glared at the bills and coins. Ginny Potter was not a happy camper.