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Be Careful What You Wish For | ||||
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Category: Hogsmeade Challenge (2005-1) Characters:None Genres: Fluff, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 29 Summary: Sometimes, all you can do is to wish. Hitcount: Story Total: 5967 |
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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR A/N J.K.Rowling owns Harry Potter and his world. SIYE staff own the circumstances of this story. Ashwinder keeps on being my beta, and owns some sentences as well. I own nothing. Thanks to everybody who have the patiente to read this. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept, but he could no longer deny it. Harry was sure it wasn’t his fault. Maybe it was hers, or maybe it was the fault of the same old fun-spoiling idiot. Harry had hoped for a quiet sixth year; obviously that was asking too much. Actually, Voldemort had made his annual appearance earlier than usual, when the winter had just set in, causing Quidditch, Hogsmeade visits, Christmas shopping and everything good to be cancelled. Which meant Harry spent most of his time in the common room. And Ginny was always there as well. By now Harry was pretty sure it was impossible to share the common room with Ginny Weasley for any long period of time and not fall in love with her. He’d like to see any of the other boys try — only he didn’t. Not really. For he himself had succumbed to Ginny Weasley’s charm. She was beautiful, fun, and she had at least three different shades of red in her hair. He could never tell which tone would stand out more; it all depended on the light at any given moment. All he knew was that he felt compelled to check it. And his father had apparently had a thing for red-heads, he thought wryly. Harry was happy Hermione wasn’t there at the moment because she enjoyed it far too much when he started making excuses about liking Ginny. Hermione was utterly amused every time Harry tried to conceal his feelings in front of Ron. And she seemed to have a great deal of fun whenever he made a prat of himself in front of Ginny. No, Hermione wasn’t any help. Hermione thought he was suffering from a mere crush. She didn’t know the half of it. Harry knew he could tell the exact moment when Ginny, once she’d been working on her homework for a while, would stretch pulling her hair up through her hands and letting it cascade back down again, a movement that always mesmerized him. He could almost predict her entrance to the common room or the Great Hall. His heart would leap within his chest, and … … and Ginny had just flashed him a smile. He leaned over to pick up his quill, parchment, and Transfiguration textbook which had somehow managed to land on the floor. Harry returned the smile, and hid himself under the table, gathering his things. Ginny shifted in her seat, crossing her legs. A hand reached down to scratch at her knee where her sock had left its mark. As she drew her hand away again, it went lazily up her leg, carelessly lifting her skirt, and giving Harry a quick but unmistakable glimpse of a pair of soft, glossy red knickers trimmed with lace. “Ouch!” Harry hit his head and almost knocked over the table. “You OK?” Ginny asked, sending him a concerned look. “Yes.” Her eyes had already dropped back to her History of Magic textbook that Harry reckoned was a lot more interesting than he himself. Luckily the portrait hole opened at that moment, and Ron and Hermione arrived to take his mind off of his misery. As usual, they were arguing. “I still say she’s hot,” Ron was teasing. “Humph.” “How old do you think she is?” “Dunno.” “She must be older than she looks. I heard she snogged Dumbledore once.” Hermione stopped suddenly. “Ron Weasley, I’m not interested in how old Madam Rosmerta is, or who she’s snogged even if it was our headmaster,” Hermione snorted. “But you have to admit she’s hot,” Ron prodded. “Hummmph!” Hermione let out an annoyed breath, and dropped several heavy books onto the table. Harry looked jealously at Ron and his innate ability to provoke Hermione. Maybe they still hadn’t worked things out, but at least he always managed to get some sort of reaction out of her. Harry dared another look at Ginny, who was now watching the pair of them, amused. “It’s nothing personal, Hermione,” said Ginny. “Haven’t you ever noticed that the shorter a witch’s robes are, the sillier Weasley men act?” Harry and Hermione chuckled, and Ron made a face at his sister. “How’d you get on that subject, anyway?” said Harry. “Was Madam Rosmerta at the prefects’ meeting?” That question seemed to irritate Hermione even more, and at the same time aroused the interest of the rest of the common room. The professors had worked hard to find ways to let the students work off the energy built up during six months of being cloistered. And even someone who wasn’t fond of Valentine’s Day was looking forward to the festivities, even if they were taking place in the Room of Requirement. “She was, actually,” Hermione remarked, “and if Ron hadn’t been so busy looking at her, maybe we Gryffindors wouldn’t have put on such a pitiful performance.” It was never a good idea to question Hermione when she was in such a mood, but Ginny was a Gryffindor after all. “So Dumbledore asked the villagers to join the party in the Room of Requirement as he said?” “Yes,” Hermione replied irritably, “Madam Rosmerta was there on behalf of the Hogsmeade merchants, and she said the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade would come to the Room of Requirement if the students did something special to celebrate the day.” “Special? What do you mean?” Ginny asked. Hermione sighed loudly and put her forehead on the table. “I hate to say it,” Katie Bell cut in, “but the best idea so far is from Slytherin. They are going to make a love potion booth. Every student who visits it will have to draw a slip of paper and drink whatever potion it says. I’d sell my soul for an invitation.” “Aren’t love potions illegal in Hogwarts?” Ginny sounded interested. “Not if you have Snape’s blessing and Dumbledore’s permission,” Katie pointed out. “Hufflepuff has a brilliant idea as well,” Hermione explained. “Madam Rosmerta was very keen on it since it used to be a tradition. The boys and the girls have to walk through the village wearing all sorts of hats, and the villagers will vote which boy and girl has the most unique one and proclaim them ‘Mr and Miss Hogsmeade’. You know, sort of like a beauty contest for horrible hats.” “I still say the Slytherin idea is better,” Katie said. “I think Ravenclaw had the best idea of all,” Ron said. “It’s most in keeping with the spirit of the day.” “Oh, how original,” Hermione mocked. “They’re going to auction off kisses. Don’t worry Ron, the only thing you have to do is get some Ravenclaw girl invite you to the snog-fest.” “Maybe I’ll just sneak into the Room of Requirement,” Ron said provocatively. Hermione’s patience seemed to get thinner by the moment. She got up, unpinned the parchment from the notice board, and started reading. “In compensation for the cancellation of all Hogsmeade visits, the staff announce the Room of Requirement will be available during February, as a stand-in for the village of Hogsmeade. The students will visit the room on the day assigned to their house, unless they have been expressly invited by a member of another house,” Hermione stated. “Yeah, yeah,” Ron complained, “just get on with telling them. Wasn’t there something about having to decide… something about Hogsmeade…? “If you had PAID ATTENTION” — Hermione was getting really annoyed -- “to what Madame Rosmerta WAS SAYING, instead of what she WAS WEARING, you would know that we don’t have a problem with that ANYMORE.” Ron went Weasley red. Harry stole a look at Ginny, who was sniggering at her brother. And then she crossed her arms. “And what did we Gryffindors propose to Madam Rosmerta?” Ginny asked Hermione. Hermione sighed again, and showed her frustration by shaking her hands and groaning. “What?” Harry was starting to get worried. “We didn’t have any idea about what to propose,” Hermione explained, “so McGonagall saved our necks.” “And?” Ginny broke the silence. “We’re going to hold a tournament,” Ron said, rolling his eyes at Hermione. “Why didn’t you suggest anything better?” Hermione replied. “What was I supposed to do? Tell our Head of House we wouldn’t do it in front of everybody?” “I don’t know, you’re the brilliant mind,” Ron mocked. “I don’t fancy celebrating Valentine’s Day like they did 1000 years ago.” “I think I’m going to be ill that day. My inner eye has seen it,” Ginny said. Harry crinkled his forehead. He wasn’t so fond of Valentine’s Day himself, but if Ginny didn’t want to go, there really was no point to it at all. Of course, he wasn’t about to ask her out or anything. But lately she’d begun to hang around with him, her brother and Hermione, and in some way, Harry had hoped Ginny…well, he didn’t really know what he had hoped. The whole common room had begun to buzz over the news, but Hermione clapped her hands angrily so that everybody shut up. “Professor McGonagall has designated me as the organiser of the day. Everybody will be there, and everybody will perform their duties, and it’s all going to go off without a hitch.” She said this with such force that Harry almost expected the rest of the common room to snap to attention as if she were a drill sergeant. As it was, every eye in the room was fixed on Hermione, as she went on. “And yes, Ginny, you will be there as well.” Ginny slumped down in her seat, muttering under her breath. “Anyway we have no choice now,” Hermione said more quietly. “Our day is the last Saturday of February, so if anyone was hoping to buy Valentine’s presents before the 14th, I’m sorry for them.” “I don’t have a date. You don’t need to worry on my account,” Ginny said as if it was all explanation Hermione needed. “Oh yes, you have,” Hermione said with a deadly look, “you’re going to be Harry’s maiden fair.” Harry’s heart went up to his throat, but Ginny didn’t seem very happy about Hermione’s pronouncement. He felt an odd sensation, as if his heart had plummeted all the way down to his feet. There was a name for what he could read on Ginny’s face; it was indifference. And it hurt. ************************** February arrived soon and, with it, the visits. The first Saturday, very early in the morning Hogwarts opened its doors to the Hogsmeade shopkeepers. They entered the school along with quite a lot of curious gentlemen and gossiping ladies of the village who had decided to accompany them. They headed to the Room of Requirement led by Madam Rosmerta. Students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Slytherin had got up early and filled the seventh floor passage to see the Hufflepuffs in their way to the Room of Requirement. The Hufflepuffs and their display of funny hats didn’t disappoint them. The villagers must have had fun, because next Monday in the Hogsmeade Gazette, announced the proclamation of Mr and Miss Hogsmeade. The handsome Justin Finch-Fletchley strutted about the reconstituted village in something that looked like a silky blond wig, explained the newspaper, while the charming Miss Susan Bones seemed to take pleasure in persecuting Finch-Fletchley with her hat that looked like a flock of mad bats. The next week was a disappointing one for Harry. Ravenclaw had decided to beat Hufflepuff, and had invited everybody to their day. To make matters worse, that week was the real Valentine’s Day, and all the boys could feel the pressure descending on their shoulders. Harry would have been happy to be left in his own little word, torturing himself about Ginny, dreaming he had the the courage to ask her on a real date, but knowing he wouldn’t be able to summon the courage to do it. But something else drove such important matters from his mind. No fewer than seven Ravenclaw girls asked him to come to the Room of Requirement. He didn’t accept a single invitation. But Ginny did. She went to the Ravenclaw day accompanied by a stocky Ravenclaw Chaser. Terry Boot was in the same league as Davies, Diggory, Wood–in short he was the sort of Quidditch player the girls swooned over. Harry felt the need to spend the entire day pacing the length of the corridor that led to the Room of Requirement. It was after lunch, while he was on his third round, that the door opened and a Ravenclaw girl he didn’t even know grabbed him and snogged him. With a satisfied smile, she wandered off down the stairs. He was still staring, stunned at the girl’s behaviour, when the door opened again and Ginny came out. She looked at him and blinked. “Er… you going back to Gryffindor Tower?” Harry asked. “Yeah…things are getting a bit boring in there.” “What about your date?” “I exchanged him for a Butterbeer,” she said looking at him, amused. Then she blinked. “You have something on your lips.” Ginny approached him, put her hands to his face, and gently brushed her finger over his lips. She looked at her hand, raised her eyebrows and smiled briefly. “Lipstick, Harry.” Her tone was slightly ironic. Harry felt his cheeks grow hot, and he couldn’t tell if he was blushing because of her closeness, her hands on his face, or the playful tone she had used. He couldn’t reply. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch her figure as it receded down the corridor in front of him, leaving him in a daze, his lips trembling when she had touched them. To make matters worse, Gryffindor’s day was fast approaching. Hermione was going mad, and Harry suspected it had something to do with the pile of Valentines Ron had received. “What sort of tournament is this going to be if you boys aren’t even willing to fight for the girls?” Hermione complained one evening in the common room. Harry thought he would willingly fight for his girl if only he knew what to do. But then again, he didn’t even know if Ginny was his girl. He wanted her to be, her reaction to Hermione’s telling her she’d be attending the Gryffindor day in Hogsmeade with him left a lot to be desired in Harry’s opinion. “OK,” Ron replied, making a house of cards with his Valentines, as if that would help him decide which girl to choose. “Let’s take Seamus, for instance. He’s going to defend Lavender’s er… honour. Do I have to do something to offend her or what?” “You only have to duel with him, you git,” Ginny replied. Ron’s house fell, scattering the cards over the table. “And if I win,” Ron continued, “Lavender’s my date?” “Don’t even dream about it, mate,” Seamus responded from his armchair. “We only have to duel for show. If we finish quickly, we can enjoy the rest of the day,” Ginny replied. “Have you chosen a maiden, oh brother of mine? Or can’t you decide?” Ginny pointed at the cards. Ron was gathering his cards together, but he dropped them, scattering them once more. Ginny drew out her wand and muttered an incantation. All the cards immediately broke into a chorus of love songs. Ron picked up the cards, and closed them one by one. Every time he closed one, he silenced that card, but the music didn’t stop, and by the end, the last card was singing at least ten different tunes at the same time. Ron closed it, and then, as the song could still be heard, he put it under a book. Finally he had to sit on it. The music was now coming at a lower volume, but Ron couldn’t manage to make it stop completely. “Are you sitting on what I think you’re sitting on?” Ginny chuckled. “Will you please stop that thing from singing!” Ron yelled. “I’ll make them stop if you duel for Hermione’s honour!” Ginny said calmly. “What?” Ginny said to Hermione, who was looking daggers at her. ”If you can decide who my date will be, it’s only fair that I decide yours.” Ron looked at Hermione for a moment. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care who I duel, as long as it isn’t Harry,” Ron snapped. “Bloody hell, it’s stupid the things we men have to do in name of Valentine’s day.” Ginny waved her wand and Ron’s Valentine stopped singing. “What’s the matter, Ron?” Hermione was nearing the end of her patience. “Do you have a problem with the rituals people go through as they celebrate their arrival at sexual maturity? Or is it just me?” Harry shared a look with Ginny. “Hermione,” Ginny said taking her friend’s arm, “how about we go off to the library and I help you research some ancient methods of duelling?” Not all of Harry and Ginny’s efforts to cut the tension between Ron and Hermione were successful. But anyway they gave Harry the chance to spend time with Ginny. Unlike the rest of the girls, Ginny didn’t seem to spare Valentine’s day a single thought , and that make Harry even more nervous about his date, because it really was a date. Wasn’t it? The third Saturday arrived, and the passage to the Room of Requirement was as full as the previous weeks, if not more so. The Slytherins made their swaggering way to the Room, carrying vials of potions. Their visit had aroused the most curiosity so far and their demeanour showed how proud they were of that fact. “How maddening! They think they’re so clever. I’d love to make Malfoy drink a potion that made him kiss a troll,” Ginny said that night in the common room. “I’m dying to see what’s going on.” “Well, it’s past curfew,” Hermione said. “You can’t.” Harry decided that this was the chance he’d been waiting for. Approaching Ginny, he whispered in her ear with a slight teasing in his tone, “If you feel like seeing what Malfoy is up to, I can show you how.” “That’s an interesting proposal, Potter,” Ginny murmured, keeping her eyes trained on Hermione. “I’ll see you at eleven sharp in the common room,” Harry said. The rest of the evening seemed to take forever to pass, but Harry couldn’t keep the silly smirk off his face. Now this wasn’t exactly a date, but, well, it was a beginning. At five to eleven, Harry was in the common room, invisibility cloak at the ready, and a queasy sensation in his stomach. Ginny was there, a heavenly smile on her face that changed into a mischievous one as soon as she saw Harry’s cloak. They went to the door to the Room of Requirement and hid behind a suit of armour, still protected by the cloak. They had to stand close together to squeeze into the small space, and Harry never had been so grateful for being in good shape. His heart seemed to be beating out of control, and he wasn’t sure how it was going to stand such pressure. If only he could get through the rest of the evening without doing anything foolish. Soon, the door opened. The first person to come through was Pansy Parkinson, walking quickly with all the dignity she could muster, an offended expression on her pug-like features. Other Slytherins followed her, some of them laughing, others proclaiming their undying love for someone, still others clearly upset with the result of the potions experiment. Harry could have kicked himself for not asking to borrow Colin Creevey’s camera. Millicent Bulstrode, uglier than ever, wearing a pink dress that billowed like a full sail, emerged from the room looking very pleased with herself. Behind her Malfoy appeared, walking on his knees and crying. “Why, my love? Why don’t you want to marry me?” Harry and Ginny cracked up, but had to restrain themselves, because Snape came out of the room straight after them, took Malfoy by the back of his robes and make him get up. “Behave yourself, Malfoy. I will not tolerate such unmanly deportment in a Slytherin.” Harry and Ginny held back their laughter, while the rest of the Slytherins came out, and watched them descend the stairs. Just when they were about to let themselves go and burst into laughter at last, someone decided to give them a fright. “You two can come out of hiding now.” Both Harry and Ginny looked at the Slytherin to leave the room. Harry took off the cloak and smiled at Blaise Zabini. “How did you know we were here?” Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Potter, you’re speaking to a true Slytherin.” Zabini pointed at their feet. “You both have stunned me enough times in the DA meetings that I’ve become quite familiar with your shoes.” Ginny and Harry walked with Blaise to the stairs. “I just have to say,” Zabini went on, “I’ve never seen your feet so… How shall I put it … er… close?” He winked at Harry. “No wonder you didn’t notice your feet were visible.” Harry punched him in the arm. “Have fun in there?” “You bet,” Blaise replied. “We’ve already seen Malfoy,” Ginny snickered. Blaise laughed loudly. “As you can probably tell, Gryffindor is not the only place in where Malfoy is not very popular.” They saw Zabini off at the second floor, and they came back to the Gryffindor tower. For once, neither Mr. Filch nor Mrs. Norris where anywhere to be seen, so Harry, to his disappointment, didn’t find a good excuse to convince Ginny to walk under the cloak with him again. *************************************** Somehow, the adventures of the ferret in love ran through Hogwarts faster than Rita Skeeter’s latest gossip, bringing an animated start to the fourth week of February. Ron and Hermione had given up arguing and settled for giving each other the cold shoulder. And Hermione had finally managed to prepare something that would satisfy Professor McGonagall’s expectations. Harry couldn’t get over the fact he had gone prowling with Ginny and couldn’t wait until next Saturday. He hoped Zabini would be discreet. He had never openly showed his interest in Ginny, and as far as he knew, only Hermione had noticed it. It wasn’t as if he was expecting anything. He knew Ginny had got over him, so his plan, if it could be called that, was to take whatever Ginny was willing to give him, and he suspected it wouldn’t be much more than friendship. Maybe some flirting, perhaps another evening exploring Hogwarts …a kiss. Well, it didn’t hurt to dream. “The boys and the girls will go to Hogsmeade separately,” Hermione instructed on the last Friday of February. “Everyone has to buy something for his partner. Then we have to go to the Three Broomsticks, where Madam Rosmerta will be waiting for us. We duel, exchange gifts with our partners, and have the rest of the day for ourselves.” The common room burst into cheers. “How are we going to manage the duelling part?” Harry asked. “Everybody has to bring his wand. Professor McGonagall has enchanted a bag, and every boy will draw a favour from the bag. All of us,” Hermione emphasised, sending Ron a death glare. “The boy who draws your girl’s favour will be your opponent in the tournament. For example, if Harry draws Lavender’s favour, then he’d duel Seamus.” The night before the visit, Harry racked his brain trying to think of the perfect gift for Ginny. He knew she liked sugar quills, which made him think of little sugar roses he had seen in Muggle sweet shops. Maybe he could find something similar in Honeyduke’s. Then he smiled. Honeyduke’s was currently in the Room of Requirement, after all. Early in the morning, the Gryffindor boys, wearing their weekend clothes, their cloaks, and bringing their wands, came to the Room of Requirement. The weather was cold but sunny, and they quickly scattered around Hogsmeade, each looking for the perfect gift. The houses along Hogsmeade’s High street were decorated with banners bearing the Gryffindor coat of arms. The shops had replaced their usual cans and paper bags with coarse pottery and wickerwork baskets. Some villagers were showing off what Harry supposed passed for medieval clothes. It didn’t look as if fashion for witches had changed very much in the last 1000 years or so. Harry went straight to Honeyduke’s and found a bouquet of fine sugar roses. He also bought some chocolates as an afterthought. Ron, at his side, looked at the treats. “Lucky bloke, you had it easy. What I’m supposed to get Hermione? A chocolate book?” Harry looked at Ron for a moment. “You really like her, don’t you?” Harry asked. “It’s a waste of time, but yeah, I do,” Ron said calmly. “What about a box of chocolates that she can use later for her school things?” “Cool,” Ron said, “and I could put some sort of quill in among them. ” “Yeah… a quill that’s enchanted to write ‘Ron loves Hermione’,” Harry teased. And then they exchanged a serious look. “Mate, you’re a genius,” Ron said. Ron and Harry went to Zonko’s and then, with their gifts ready, headed to the Three Broomsticks. A medieval pavilion had been raised in front of the pub. Professor McGonagall was there making sure all was ready for the tournament. They went into the pub. Most of the girls were already there, laughing and joking. “Two hours till the tournament,” Ginny said, coming up to Ron and Harry, “and I’m starving. Harry, will you go with me to Madam Puddifoot’s for a late breakfast?” Harry looked at Ron, almost scared. “Er…wouldn’t you prefer a Butterbeer? We can have anything you like in here,” Harry tried. But Ginny took his arm and led him to the side street where the teashop was. “Don’t be silly,” she began. “Madam Rosmerta is holding the tournament, so she’s not serving today. Besides, I’ve been waiting to go to Madam Puddifoot’s the whole year.” “R-r-really?” Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Ginny steered him through the ornate door, and ignoring the cherubs, red hearts and naked cupids, she got a table. As always, some of the tables were occupied, but it was difficult to say who the people in there were, they looked so busy. Harry sat down feeling as if he was going to face the Wizengamot, but then he noticed his knee was touching Ginny’s. The table was small, and all the lace doilies hanging over its side could hide anything that happened under the table. “Two teas and a Valentine’s cake,” Ginny said before Madam Puddifoot had a chance to speak. Then Ginny shifted, and not only her knee, but her whole leg had made contact with Harry’s. His throat went dry, and he fought the urge to put a hand on her knee. Inwardly he was almost surprised at the direction his thoughts were taking. How long ago had it been that he hadn’t even been able to work up the nerve to hold Cho’s hand? It seemed like a lot longer than a year. She leaned close to him and murmured, “The place is awful, but she bakes the best Valentine’s cake.” Harry was glad that Madam Puddifoot came so quickly with their order because the effect that awful place as having in him wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure he could speak normally, and the only thought his mind seemed able to process was an urge to kiss her. Harry looked at the heart-shaped chocolate cake. On its top was a little cupid that was shooting tiny arrows around the dish and two little sugar roses. Ginny gingerly removed the cupid, carefully separated the two roses, and broke off a piece of cake. Harry watched Ginny put it in her mouth and close her eyes in order to savour the bite. If only he had the courage to kiss her. “Come on, you have to try it.” She offered him a piece with her fork, and he ate it. Chocolate, strawberry, cream, soft, warm, delicious. Harry wondered how Ginny would taste. Ginny took another bite. “Enjoy it, Harry,” Ginny said. “This is one of the best things you can have for Valentine’s day. “I know,” Harry said softly, but he wasn’t looking at the cake. Harry watched Ginny finish the cake. The table seemed awfully small from what he remembered. When he’d been here with Cho, it had been impossibly wide. This time all he had to do was barely move his fingers and he’d touch Ginny’s hand. All he had to do was dare. She picked up one of the roses, offering the other to him. Harry’s lips touched Ginny’s finger, and his stomach jumped. “Want to bet on how many times Ron and Hermione will argue today?” Ginny asked. Harry chuckled. Only Ginny could make him jump from a fantasy to a joking mood so quickly. They started to make bets on all their classmates and their chances of getting kissed. Harry made a bet with himself about his own chances, trying to keep his hopes high. He was no longer thinking about the tacky shop, with its kitsch and fluffy atmosphere. He was there with Ginny, they couldn’t move without touching each other, they couldn’t breathe without smelling each other. They could whisper things to each other, and their eyes were so close they could stare at each other forever. Oh God, kissing her would be so… easy. “Oh hell, it’s almost moon!” Ginny stood suddenly. “We’re late for the tournament!” Harry followed Ginny, and they ran to the Three Broomsticks. The boys were standing in ranks inside the pub, while the girls were spread out along the street, allowing space for the tournament. Harry knew Professor McGonagall had had a hard time convincing the girls that it wouldn’t be fitting for them to duel as well. “Medieval times, remember? Boys fought, girls wasted their time watching them fight. It was considered romantic for a knight to fight for his lady’s favour.” McGonagall entered the pub with a lilac bag. “I would like you to think of your lady,” she said. “Something she owns will appear in this bag and one of your fellows will draw it. You will have to duel with that fellow, recover it, and gave it back to your maid. Is that understood?” Dean was the first to go and drew a volume of Modern Quidditch in England and looked a bit confused. Professor McGonagall had to go ask the girls whose book it was. “Hey, that’s my book,” Katie complained, “Melvin, you idiot.” Melvin, a shy seventh year followed Dean and both took position, their backs touching. “Three, two, one….” “Expelliarmus!” “Tarantallegra!” Dean was on the ground, laughing like a lunatic, and Melvin was able to reclaim Modern Quidditch in England for Katie who kissed Melvin’s cheek gently. McGonagall came into the pub again and presented the bag to Colin who put in his hand and brought out something … alive. “Who owns a frog?” McGonagall murmured It was Neville’s date, one of Ginny’s classmates. Neville and Colin took position. “Three, two, one….” “Petrificus totalus!” Neville had immobilized Colin before he could even speak. When Neville come back into the Three Broomsticks, Harry applauded proudly. McGonagall approached Ron with the bag, and he put his hand inside and took out something soft and red, and… It was a lacy pair of knickers, and Ron’s face was soon the same colour as the undergarment he held up between his thumb and forefinger. “What… what is that?” Seamus asked. Harry looked at Ron, horrified. He had in his hands Ginny’s glossy red knickers. The other boys were looking at the piece of clothing with expressions that went from embarrassed curiosity to blatant interest. Professor McGonagall’s face showed pure incredulity. “Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who knows the owner of those … unmentionables?” Nobody reacted. “For heaven’s sake!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed. “They’re only female under things. I’m sure you can deal with it. Weasley, don’t they have a name tag?” Ron still hesitated. McGonagall moved to stand in front of the boys and crossed her arms. Harry prayed for something to happen. Dragons, Death Eaters, an urgent owl from Voldemort inviting Harry to high tea. “The first law of chivalry,” McGonagall stated, “is never embarrass the lady. And if I have to go out there and ask, some lady will be embarrassed. Weasley?” She was tapping her foot expectantly. There was nothing else for it. Ron looked inside the knickers as if they might belong to Mosag herself. “Ginevra Weasley,” he read. “Those are Ginny’s knickers!” There was a tense silence. “Who the hell …” Ron started yelling, but then, it dawned on him. Harry felt his face flame and then grow cold, and he knew it had gone from deep red to ghostly white. His senses were on the alert, but he had no clue about what to do. In no time, the whole row of expectant duellers was looking at him with mischievous expressions. “Way to go, Harry,” Seamus laughed. “And I thought you were thick,” Dean added with a shake of his head. “Care to explain to me, Potter, what business you have with my sister’s knickers?” Ron reacted finally. Harry knew he’d gone dark red again and stood there, dumbfounded. He was just as baffled as Ron as to how Ginny’s knickers had appeared in McGonagall’s bag. “I’d like to hear your explanation, as well,” McGonagall said, “but it’s going to have to wait. Potter, Weasley, out, and take your positions.” Harry followed Ron and both stood back to back. “Ginny’s knickers,” Ron complained. “Really Harry, there are some things I’d rather not know about.” “Look, Ron, I…” “Oh, when my brothers hear about this.” Harry wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think Ron sounded very happy about the situation. “Listen to me… Ron, I…” “You trust your best friend and then find out he’s been messing with your sister’s… private things.” Harry wasn’t sure if Ron was trying to make the duel seem more realistic or if he took after Fred and George more than anyone had realised. “I hope it wasn’t you who removed them at least.” “RON!” Harry cried. “Three, two, one….” “Stupefy!” Ron yelled. Harry moved quickly to his left, barely avoiding Ron’s hex. Had just Ron tried to stupefy him? “Impedimenta!” At least Harry knew how to improve Ron’s performance in the DA now. He only had to make him really angry. “Impedimenta!” Ron shouted again. “Expelliarmus!” Harry exclaimed. Both spoke at the same time, but Ron’s wand flew into Harry’s hand. The reason why Harry’s curses were always the first to hit was still a mystery to the members of the DA. Harry went to help Ron up, and Ron handed him the underwear, shaking his head. “You’re never going to live it down,” Ron said in a falsely subdued voice. “Are you threatening me, Weasley?” Ron smirked. “There’s no need. I can’t wait to see how you’re going to explain this to Ginny.” Ginny was already running over to them. Harry hurried to hide the evidence in his pocket. “Are those my knickers you’re trying to hide?” Ginny asked, absolutely shocked. Harry groaned. He seized Ginny’s arm, and led her down the street. “I’m sorry,” he said pulling the knickers out of his pocket again and handing them to her. “I really … I…” “How do you know about those?” Ginny asked quietly. “Well, you see, I saw them, one day… er … in the common room… and…” “And just how did they end up here?” Ginny sounded more surprised that angry and not a bit embarrassed. “I swear I don’t know. They just appeared in McGonagall’s magic bag.” Ginny sent him a small smile and took a step closer. “Was I wearing them the first time you saw them?” Ginny stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. Harry nodded, not daring to look at her. “Maybe,” Ginny went on whispering, moving even closer to him. Harry put his arm around her waist to steady her. “Maybe some day you’ll see them again.” She had spoken so low that even being so close to his ear he had difficulty catching it. “That would be nice,” Harry dared to answer. Harry then remembered he had a present for Ginny so he summoned it from the Three Broomsticks. He handed her the bouquet of sugar roses and the chocolates. “Oh Harry, they’re wonderful!” Ginny hugged him and kissed his cheek. Harry felt a little bit disappointed. Suddenly, the street changed and both found themselves inside Madam Puddifoot’s Teashop again. Ginny looked at their surroundings. Smiling slightly, she put the bouquet and the chocolates on a table, and hurried to hide her knickers in her pocket. “You know, Harry,” she said in a teasing tone, “next time you go into the Room of Requirement you should be more careful what you wish for.” Harry realized he must be blushing, but he held Ginny’s gaze. “Now you can kiss me, Harry,” Ginny murmured. “Good.” And with that, Harry kissed her properly. |
| Reviews 29 |
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