For QLFC:

Chaser 3 – 90's week! Use "Troll Doll" as inspiration for your fic.

Optional prompts: (genre) Family, (object) glitter, (word) wanted poster/s

The summer after Ginny's first year at Hogwarts, Arthur brought home a toy from work.

Ginny was nearly twelve. Usually, she would be the first to proclaim her old age and protest that she had no use for dolls, but this summer was different.

This summer, Ginny could use all the dolls in the world.

This doll was also different, which was just right, considering that Ginny was convinced that nothing would quite ever be the same again after…well, after.

It was nothing like the usual pretty witch dolls bought for her by her mother, who would bring the toys to the counter with an uneasy look in her eyes and who would carefully count the Sickles needed to give Ginny a toy of her own.

It was nothing like the handmade little baby that Charlie had whittled for her when she was eight years old and that she had dressed up with dresses made of leaves and petals.

Instead, this new doll was rather ugly. It had a scrunched-up face, with beady little eyes and a crazed wide smile. Its little brown limbs jutted out in an unnatural fashion. Its most distinct feature, however, was its hair, which was a wild pink color and was fashioned into a wild tufted position that gave the impression that it had single-handedly defeated gravity.

Molly had protested the entrance of such a creature in her house.

"Arthur, what on earth is that?" she has said, exasperated, standing by the kitchen sink here she had been trying to have a not-so-casual causal chat with Ginny, the kind that began with comments about the weather and that inevitably led to questions like "And how are you feeling, dear?"

Arthur set down his briefcase and set the little figurine on the table. "It's a gift for Ginny. It's a Muggle toy. The Muggles call it a – let's see now, what did Perkins say it was called? An Elf Doll? No, that doesn't seem quote right. I believe it's called a Troll Doll, although I suppose it doesn't look at all like a Troll. Do you suppose Muggles believe this is what trolls look like?"

As he rambled on, Arthur quietly offered the doll to Ginny, looking a little nervous as he did so. Ginny took the offered toy quietly – far too quietly for his cheerful little girl.

"Thank you," she said.

As Ginny excused herself to place the toy in her room, she paused halfway up the stairs. This summer, there had been many worried, whispered conversations that began as she left the room.

"Arthur, how was that hideous thing supposed to help?" she heard her mother ask.

She heard a sigh as the sound of Arthur heaving himself into a chair echoed up the staircase. "It's so ugly that Muggle children can't help but laugh when they look at it. That's what we want, don't we? To make Ginny laugh again?"

There was a weariness in Arthur's voice that made Ginny's heart hurt. As quietly as she could, she went up the rest of the way and slipped into her room.

As she sat on her bed, Ginny stared at the small doll in her hands. It was really quite ugly, she thought. Its ugliness however, was not one that she could laugh at, not when she was feeling quite as ugly on the inside.

…

Ginny brought the Troll Doll to Egypt. It had sat on the shelf above her desk since her father had come home with it. As Ginny was about to zip her luggage shut, however, she caught sight of the little Troll Doll, still grinning stupidly at the world.

Ginny had hesitated before slipping it into her luggage. And now, it was in Egypt with her.

She had started bringing it around in her pocket as they started touring around the pyramids and the other Egyptian landmarks. It was a silly thing to do, she thought, but there was something reassuring about having the ugly little beast with her to keep her company amidst the confusing warmth, positivity, and exuberance of her family.

Bill had pulled her aside halfway through the trip and had stolen her away to treat her to a day out in town, just the two of them. She had been half-expecting such a trip, as she suspected that getting her together with her favorite, much-idolized oldest brother was the primary reason why they had all gone to Egypt instead of saving the money that Dad had won in the lottery.

Thankfully, Bill hadn't tried to ask her any questions about her feelings for most of the day. He only began to hint at the topic in the middle of dinner, when they were both back alone at his cozy little apartment.

"Hey, Ginny, I noticed that you've been carrying out that little doll Dad gave you," Bill said casually, as he gave her another serving of chicken. "I don't think he expected you to like it so much."

Ginny looked down at her doll, a little surprised that Bill had noticed. She had been playing around with it quite a bit all day, taking it out of her pocket and running a hand over it.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, shrugging.

"What makes you like it so much?" Bill asked.

Ginny stared at the doll. She was surprised to find herself holding back tears.

"Hey."

Bill had crouched down beside her. "Hey, what's wrong, sprite?"

And that was when Ginny broke.

Out came everything she had been feeling all summer long, about how low and wrong she felt, about how sullied and sad, about how guilty and terrible she had felt after finding out about all the people she had hurt at Hogwarts last year, and about what a dreadful person she was for feeling and acting so low even though everyone had tried to be so nice to her all summer long, about how ugly and terrible she had been feeling -

"Hey. Hey."

That was Bill. He had his arms around her, as she hiccupped into his chest.

"No wonder you've lost your sparkle this summer, sprite, feeling the way that you do," Bill said.

He paused, stroking her hair. "First things first – last year was NOT your fault. It wasn't your fault at all. Sure, there were some things you could have done differently, but there's no reason to feel guilty about it. You're not a terrible person, sweetheart. You're my little sister and you're far more precious than all those glittering gold stones I find for the goblins."

Ginny sniffled, looking up at Bill. He smiled down at her.

"Your sparkle is all yours," Bill said. "And, yes, we miss the way you glitter, but that's because we love you and want the best for you. There's no need to feel bad about the fact that you feel bad, sprite. You take all the time you need to feel sad. We'll all be here for you, every single step of the way.

Bill combed her hair back, before taking her cheeks in his hands. "And when you're ready to sparkle again – we'll be here to cheer you on, too."

When their family returned to England, Ginny found a white little paper sticking out of her luggage. It was a large, white poster, drawn and decorated with all of the things that she loved best in the world. At the center was a picture of Ginny, surrounded by her family. On top were the words.

"Never Forget:

You are beautiful.

You are wanted.

You are loved."

Ginny stared at the poster and smiled. She pushed the troll doll aside and displayed the poster in its place.