A/N Nerg… Damn plot bunny interrupted me while I was writing another story…. Awful, beastly rabbit. And it only reminded me that I have to write a French essay
As far as Ginny could tell, she and Fleur had very, very little in common.
Fleur was tall and lean and subdued. Ginny was short and freckled and funny.
Ginny wore her heart on her sleeve, while Fleur… well she didn't have any sleeves, so she supposed the reason why Fleur never showed much emotion to the fact that she must be very, very chilly.
While both girls seemed to attract the opposite sex, Ginny chalked it up to the fact that she was dashingly charming and attractive , and that Fleur had Veela blood.
Fleur was the oldest of two girls, making her all flower petals and bath fizzies. Ginny was the youngest of with six older brothers. Quidditch, mud fights and wrestling were all part of the package.
Ginny wasn't afraid of showing off her scars OR elaborating on the stories if it meant the cute bloke down the other end of the bar would send over a drink. Fleur rubbed lotion on the tiny scar on her hand where a she had accidentally nicked herself with a table knife while buttering her toast.
Ginny took her coffee black in the morning… well, maybe with a little cream. Fleur drank tea four times a day, with sugar and milk.
Ginny officially knew she was groping at reasons to hate the French girl. Certainly, they were very different, but the peacock was in the weasel's nest, so they would both have to learn to play nice. Besides, they did have one thing in common. They both loved Bill very much.
Which is why after taking a seat across from her new sister-in-law who was sipping her sugary/milky tea, Ginny gripped her mug of almost black coffee and sighed.
"De rien, Gin-nee."
A/N Aww… I'm almost fluent… That's a lie. I wouldn't last a second in a French speaking country.