remember when ginny weasley turned down the offer of going to the dance with harry (the boy she’d been crushing on for years) so that she could stay loyal to her date with neville and then completely called ron and harry out on their shit when they started making fun of neville good times good times
tiny ginny weasley, growing up with six brothers, deathly afraid of being branded “girly”, because “girly” from the sneering mouths of fred and george meant weak, inadequate, pathetic
ginny weasley at eight years old, sick of her hair flowing down to her bottom, sick of tying it into plaits and pigtails, grabbing a pair of scissors and chopping it all off with messy hacks - then molly was gasping, snatching the scissors from her grasp, yelling at her and mourning her “beautiful, beautiful” hair
ginny weasley at twelve years old, fresh from the horrors of her first year and accepting her dorm-mate’s mascara. after everything that happened, she’s trying to make friends, and her dorm-mates are trying too. so she takes the mascara wand and, for the first time, applies it. it’s clumpy and uneven but her dorm-mates help her perfect it - it’s girly and feminine and against everything she’s ever stood for, against the reputation she had built at the burrow, but she kind of likes the dark weight on her eyelashes
ginny weasley slowly recognising and destroying her internalised misogyny as she progresses through hogwarts - ginny weasley embracing makeup and quidditch in equal measures, ginny weasley burping the alphabet and squeezing into the tiniest of skirts, ginny weasley being stark and cold and fearsome as well as giggly and sweet and flirty. ginny weasley standing up for the tomboys of hogwarts as well as the girliest of girls. don’t fuck with girl-power ginny weasley or you’ll be bat-bogey hexed into next week.