|
Hogsmeade Weekend | ||||
|
Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff Warnings: Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 16 Summary: Dean Thomas is a prat, so Harry decides to take a chance. [Ending Edited] Hitcount: Story Total: 7144 |
|
|||
|
Hogsmeade Weekend All characters are the property of J. K. Rowling. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended. Ginny Weasley collapsed onto the couch in the Gryffindor common room next to Harry. One glance at her face told him she was in a temper. “What’s the matter?” “Dean Thomas is a prat!” “Oh.” Oh. “You aren’t going with him to Hogsmeade tomorrow, then?” Her scowl, Harry decided, could be taken as an answer. An idea sprouted in his mind. It would be risky, very risky, but… Harry glanced at Ginny again. Yes, definitely worth it. He took a moment to gather his courage. “Ginny, can I ask you a question? A personal question?” She turned her scowl on him and he almost abandoned the idea. But he was a Gryffindor, not a cowardly Slytherin, and the potential gain was worth the risk. She shrugged. “You can ask. Maybe I’ll answer and maybe I won’t.” Harry swallowed. This was going to be even harder than he thought, but he went ahead. “You are over your crush on me, right?” The scowl deepened on Ginny’s face. He blundered on. “Hermione said you were….” The look of loathing on her face, Harry thought, could probably be taken as an answer. “What do you care, Harry?” Too late for second thoughts, he was committed now. “Well, I was wondering if you would go with me to Hogsmeade?” “I see.” Harry was not sure what she saw but, from the chill in her voice, it didn’t look good. “I don’t think you’d better risk it, Harry. I might get the wrong idea, and think of how annoying it would be to have me turn all tongue-tied and blush every time you looked at me. You’d have to ignore me and pretend I didn’t exist for another three years. No, I don’t think so, Harry.” “Ginny, I didn’t mean it like that. Ginny, wait!” But Ginny was sweeping up the stairs to the Girl’s dormitory, apparently quite unable to hear him. She was the only one. Everyone else in the common room was staring at him. He reddened and sat back down. Could things possibly get worse? They could. Barely five minutes later, Hermione came down the stairs and made a beeline towards him. Ron appeared out of nowhere and joined her. Harry was sure he hadn’t been there earlier; at least, he fervently hoped so. Hermione sat down next to Harry on the couch and Ron squeezed in on the other side of her. Hermione gave Ron a sickeningly sweet smile before turning to Harry. The two seemed inseparable these days. Harry was happy for them, but he wished they would go find an empty broom closet to snog in. He was in no mood for what he knew was coming. “Harry, what did you say to Ginny? She’s really angry.” “Why would she be mad at Harry? Are you sure it’s not Dean she mad at?” Hermione gave Ron a pitying glance. Harry hunched his shoulders. “I asked her to go to Hogsmeade with me.” “Why would she get mad at that?” Ron demanded. “Okay, so she’s probably going with Dean, but she could have just said so.” “They’re through,” Harry told them. “At least, I think so. She said Dean is a prat, so I asked her to go with me.” “Oh.” Hermione seemed to understand. Harry wished she would explain it to him. “Well, come with us then, mate,” Ron offered a shade too heartily. Hermione paused half a second too long before saying, “Yes, Harry, do come with us.” He shook his head. They deserved some time alone together. Besides, lately, he found himself feeling jealous of their happiness. He was ashamed of feeling that way, but he did and he didn’t want to spoil their ‘date’. “I have a lot of homework,” he told them truthfully. “I’m going to stay and work on it.” Ron looked guilty; he had just as much homework left undone. Hermione, of course, was all caught up. “Well,” Hermione looked at him, “if that’s what you want…” “It is,” Harry told her. --------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------- The next morning, after the other students had left, Harry spread his books and parchment over one of the tables in the Gryffindor common room. The first and second years were outside, enjoying one of the last fine days before winter. He was all alone, which suited his mood perfectly. He really did have a lot to do. Just the essay for Snape would take the rest of the morning. He got to work. “What’s the matter, Harry? All the other girls turn you down, too?” He started at Ginny’s mocking words. He looked up and realized, with a sinking heart, that she was still mad. “I didn’t ask anyone else.” “Poor Harry. You were so sure widdle Ginny Weasley would go with you that you waited too long to ask someone else. How sad. You’ll know better next time.” This was not an argument he could win, Harry knew, so he turned back to his potions essay. He found his hand was shaking. It took a moment to force it to stop. He carefully lowered his quill into the ink bottle. “I guess going to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione is beneath you these days.” His hand jerked, overturning the bottle. Black ink spread across the table, soaking his essay. “Scourgify!” The ink disappeared. Harry looked up to see Ginny pointing her wand in his direction. He wondered if she would follow it up with a Bat-bogey hex or if she would put him out of his misery with something more lethal. “Oh.” She lowered her wand and the anger drained out of her face. “That’s it, isn’t it? You wanted to give them some time alone. Oh, Harry, I’m sor….” “Don’t you dare!” She jumped back at his sudden anger. “Don’t you DARE feel sorry for me!” He stood up, knocking over his chair, then turned and stomped up the stairs to the Boy’s dormitory. He slammed the door and savagely kicked his bed. “Oww!” He flopped forward onto his bed and started pounding his pillow. Having other people feel sorry for him was bad enough, but he couldn’t stand it from Ginny. Not Ginny! Finally, he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He rolled over onto his back. “Ready to talk about it?” He jerked as if stung and sat up. Ginny was sitting on Ron’s bed, watching him. Her eyes were suspiciously bright. He had not heard her enter. He turned away from her. “Go away.” “We really are a pair,” she told him. “You don’t want me to feel sorry for you and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Instead, we both just feel sorry for ourselves.” Harry turned back, puzzled. “I wasn’t feeling sorry for you.” “Oh? What were you feeling, then? When you asked me out?” He shrugged. “That Dean was a bigger prat than I thought to let you get away.” Ginny looked skeptical. “Then how big a prat does that make you, Potter? I was yours for the asking; for THREE BLOODY YEARS, all you had to do was crook a finger and I would have been there. But you didn’t even notice I was alive.” “I noticed.” “Yeah, sure.” “I may be a prat,” Harry burst out, “but I’m not such a git as to take advantage of you like that!” Ginny looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” “Ginny, how you would have felt when it didn’t work out?” “How do you know it wouldn’t have worked out?” demanded Ginny. “Ginny, how could it?” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “You were never really in love with me; you didn’t even know me. How could you? You wouldn’t talk to me; you could barely even be in the same room with me. You were in love with some perfect imagined version of me. I could have never lived up to that.” “Is that what you thought of me?” Ginny asked in a tight voice. Her face was beet red but her eyes were fixed on his. Harry shrugged. “Maybe it was just me. I sure couldn’t get to know you like that. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you out or… or to the Yule Ball unless I felt that way, too.” He swallowed. “Unless I was sure I felt that way.” “So instead you ran after Cho. That sure made me feel good.” “At least SHE was…” Harry clamped his mouth shut. “What, Harry? What was she, that I wasn’t? Pretty? Beautiful? Gorgeous?” “Safe,” Harry muttered. “Charm… what did you say?” “Safe. She was safe.” “I don’t understand.” Harry sighed. “She wouldn’t break my heart.” Because, he admitted to himself, he had never let her into his heart. Ginny blinked. “And me? I wasn’t safe?” Harry looked away. “And now? Am I safe now?” “No,” breathed Harry. Definitely not safe. “But…” “But what?” “You talk to me now. You let me see how… how amazing you are. And Hermione said you were over your crush on me, but you seemed to like me anyways.” “Of course I like you, Harry.” “So… well, I thought we might be able to make it work, now. If you like me as I am, not as you imagined me to be, well, I thought I had a chance. But I guess I was wrong.” “Oh, Harry.” Ginny stood up and started towards him. He looked back at her. “We can still be friends, can’t we?” She stopped in front of Harry. “Is that what you want? To be friends?” He shrugged, too humiliated already to care how pathetic he sounded. “I’ll take whatever I can get.” “Whatever you can get, Harry? Including this?” She placed her hands on each side of his head, leaned forward and planted her lips on his. Time seemed to stop. This was nothing like Cho’s teary kiss. In fact, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. When she lifted her lips from his, Harry gulped. “Uh.” Ginny grinned. “That’s what I love about you, Harry, you’re so eloquent.” She kissed him again. He tried to put his arms around her waist, causing them to topple backwards onto his bed. Ginny giggled. “And graceful, too.” Several minutes went by before they came up for air. His eyes focused again. “Ginny?” “Mmmm?” Her lips were swollen from kissing, her eyes sparkled and her loosened hair framed her face in a halo of fire. “You’re much prettier than Cho.” “Flattery, Harry?" Ginny smiled. "It's true." Her smile widened. "You know, Harry, your roommates won’t be back for hours. What could we possibly find to do, to pass the time?" She batted her eyes. Harry could think of a lot of things, each more likely to get him in trouble than the last. He watched as she licked her lips, then pulled her close once more. "This," he whispered, his lips just inches from hers. And then he kissed her. |
| Reviews 16 |
|
