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Not Quite What I Was Expecting | ||||
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Category: Hogsmeade Challenge (2005-1) Characters:None Genres: Fluff, Humor Warnings: Violence, Extreme Language Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 17 Summary: A Hogsmeade 2005 challenge One-shot. Fluffy goodness. Hitcount: Story Total: 4507 |
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Not Quite what I was Expecting… Ginny reached the bottom of the girls’ spiral staircase, spotted her quarry on the other side of the common room, grimaced, then marched determinedly over to him. The insensitive jerk, he never took the initiative. Never. This relationship was tiring her. It was wearing her out more effectively than all her OWL classes put together. Oh, sure, he was eager enough when it came to kissing, and trying all sorts of other things, but it was her who did all the work, including stopping him from doing all those other things. Their conversations were more like monologues, interspersed here and there with non-committal and often badly timed grunts. It was her who had to suggest they do something different, like study together, play chess, or even take a walk around the lake. She reached her destination and stopped. He was there, with his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend. They were talking and laughing so animatedly, and Ginny felt a twinge of anger and sadness that she wasn’t included, even though she was his girlfriend. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath. This was likely to be the most embarrassing thing she had ever done, including sending that Valentine in her first year, but she was determined to do it. She wondered why briefly, but realised that she didn’t know, and that that wasn’t the point. It was a principle. She shut her eyes. “Will you go to the Hogsmeade thing with me, Dean?” She opened her eyes again, more because she didn’t want them to know that she had closed them than because she wanted to see anything. Seamus and Lavender were looking at her with odd expressions, something between amusement and pity, and Ginny cursed to herself. Damn them. Dean was looking nonplussed. “Whu?” he asked, eloquently. Ginny winced. Why was she asking this boy, this annoying lout, to spend Valentine’s Day with her in the simulation of Hogsmeade that the Room of Requirement was creating for them due to the danger inherent in venturing into the village itself? Why was she putting herself through this? Oh yeah. Because he was her boyfriend. And, as little as Ginny really wanted to be Dean’s girlfriend, she had no better prospects, and Harry… Crap. She really, really needed to stop bringing Harry into every single thought she had. He didn’t like her, not in that way. True, they were closer now than they had been, good friends rather than Ron’s little sister and best friend. In fact, with Ron and Hermione even more wrapped up in each other than usual, arguing every moment of the day but finding every excuse to be together anyway, it had been her, and to a lesser extent Neville, who Harry had talked to about what had happened the previous summer, about Sirius’ death and the prophecy. The pain of it ran deep in him, and Ginny knew it would never heal completely. It would always be a mark on his life, just like the scar on his forehead. She pulled herself back to the matter in hand, and looked hard at her boyfriend. “Well, since Hermione and everyone else have worked so hard arranging the thing, I thought it might be nice to spend some time together, out of school. You know, away from prying… are those my knickers you’re trying to hide?” Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something white and lacy protruding from Dean’s robes pocket. If they were hers… no, she didn’t even want top think about it. She had certainly never given him any, or any reason to have them. Dean tried to mask the look of guilt on his face, but gave up when he saw Ginny’s expression. He sighed and withdrew the offending article. Seamus and Lavender were in fits, and Ginny gave them both an evil look before rounding on her boyfriend. “You have some explaining to do.” Dean took one look at her flashing eyes and gulped, heavily. He hadn’t witnessed a Bat-Bogey hex, but he had heard rumours. And from the sounds of it, it was worse than the Cruciatus curse. When she beckoned him, he stood up quickly and followed meekly. They made for an alcove where they wouldn’t be overheard, passing some second years who had been enchanting a bean for a while now. At present it was dancing across the table to their great amusement, singing shrilly and rather too loudly. Ginny’s temper, never her greatest attribute and already frayed by Dean’s behaviour, snapped all of a sudden. Her face took on her ‘prefect look’, as her friends had taken to calling it, and her voice was icy cold and, while low, shot right through the terrible noise of the bean. “Will you please stop that thing from singing?” The second years, looks of terror on their faces, looked between them desperately trying to work out how best to end the spell, before one of them, much brighter than the others, took the easy option and just squashed the thing into the table. Ginny nodded curtly and strode on till she reached the point she was making for. Then she turned and raised her eyebrow at Dean, waiting. He swallowed, again. “They… they’re Parvati’s,” he said quickly, realising that truth really was the best policy. “She’s been flirting with me for weeks, and I found these on my bed, with a note saying… well, that doesn’t matter. I was going to give them to Lav to return them to her,” he finished hopefully. Ginny was thrown. Was he cheating? Was Parvati really attracted to him? And if so, when did she get so deluded, she added to herself, bitterness clouding her thoughts. The truth was that she didn’t really care. Him cheating on her was a good enough reason to break up, but she didn’t actually want to do that. Did she? She took a deep breath. “Whatever, Dean. I’ll be there on Saturday, and I’ll be in Madame Puddifoot’s at eleven. You do what you want.” And she walked away, satisfied that the ball was very much in his court. *** Harry was sitting not far from the alcove with Ron and Hermione. They were arguing. Yet again. And this time it was about the Valentine’s Day thing. Harry was planning to ignore it, but it was too good an excuse for rows for his two best friends. The problem was that there really was chemistry between them. It was obvious, almost painfully so. Harry didn’t know a hell of a lot about chemistry, but he couldn’t help wondering why it was used as a metaphor for attraction. With Ron and Hermione, though, it seemed very appropriate. Due to their alarming tendency to explode. “Ron, you had your chance to say if you thought we were asking for the wrong shops. It’s done now, you’ll just have to live with it.” “But, honestly Hermione, the Post Office? Why the hell do we want the Post Office?” “Because people will want to write letters!” “But we’ll still be in the school! They could send their owls from the Owlery, without paying a thing. It’ll be really weird for the owls, trying to fly away and only getting stuck.” “Ron, people enjoy the Post Office. They like going there, and picking out an owl to take their message. It wouldn’t be Hogsmeade without it.” And it wouldn’t be Hogwarts without those two going at it hammer and tongs, Harry thought distractedly. He quickly tuned them out, something he had become quite adept at over the years. He was watching Ginny. He hadn’t heard any of the conversation, but he had seen Dean produce what looked horribly like a pair of girl’s knickers and then the march into the corner, punctuated by the episode with the singing bean. Harry saw the expression on Ginny’s face, and felt his insides screw up oddly. In fact, they had been doing that a lot lately. Ever since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place during the summer. After he had stayed in his room for three days without eating she had come in and yelled him into compliance, before helping her mother force-feed him. The mere fact that someone had cared that much had shocked him to his senses, and it had been Ginny who he felt he could talk to about what had happened. But that wasn’t all. He just couldn’t stop thinking about her, about her brilliant hair and her wonderful eyes, about her cute nose and her enchanting laugh, about her wicked sense of humour and her incredible empathy. He knew that he fancied her, more than he had ever done with anyone else. Of course, in reality there had only been one other, but Cho had never affected him as much as this. But Ginny was dating Dean, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, he didn’t think he’d ever get up the courage to actually talk to her about his feelings. Right now her face was an odd mixture of anger, sadness and resignation, and Harry felt an huge compunction to stop her feeling like that, to make her happy. He just didn’t know how. Soon, though, she stomped over and flung herself down in the armchair next to him. He looked at her cautiously. “Are you OK, Ginny?” She not so much turned to him as rolled her head as it lolled on the back rest of her armchair and gave him a rather tired smile. “Oh, I’m fine. Just trying to keep my patience with my darling boyfriend.” Ron stopped his glaring contest with Hermione to look at her, concern evident in his face. Ron might be overprotective sometimes, but it was a by-product of something much deeper. He cared a lot about Ginny, who had been his best friend all their lives until he had gone to Hogwarts. There was always a tiny amount of guilt involved too. He almost felt that he had abandoned her for Harry and Hermione, and that if he had been a bit more caring her ordeal in the first year wouldn’t have happened. “Why are you still dating him, Ginny? I mean, you don’t seem very happy about going out with him at the moment.” Ginny shifted uncomfortably, and eventually said, “There’s no reason for us to break up. He’s really nice, and I’d feel terrible for leaving him hanging. I figure it’s just less trouble.” Ron frowned but didn’t say anything. Harry’s mind was racing. So, Ginny wasn’t really happy with Dean? Could there possibly be even the slightest chance? He tried to sound nonchalant when he spoke. “So, are you and he going to the Room of Requirements on Saturday?” Ginny sighed deeply. “I’m meeting him in Madame Puddifoot’s at eleven.” Harry blanched. “Why there?” Ginny laughed at his disgusted expression. Since they had become closer, Harry had told her about the abortive date with Cho, and it was always a source of merriment for Ginny. Even so, there was an edge of bitterness to her laughter. “It seems the most appropriate, really.” Harry frowned again. Maybe he would go to the Room on Saturday. Just to keep an eye out. *** Ginny opened the door to Madame Puddifoot’s Teashop cautiously, but that didn’t stop her getting a handful of pink, heart-shaped confetti thrown in her face. Spitting the stuff out and swatting at the cupids that were fluttering around her like hyper butterflies, she surveyed the small shop and cringed. She had known before she started that she hated the teashop. It was normally full of white lace doilies and simpering girls without two brain cells to rub together, but today was worse. The confetti and the cupids weren’t the worst. The worst was that the amount of lace in the room seemed to have multiplied several thousand times, and all of it had changed to pink, until the whole shop looked like it would rot your teeth just by being in there. She winced and looked at her watch. It was just a few minutes to eleven. Dean wasn’t here yet, but no doubt he would arrive eventually. She made her way through the shop to an unoccupied table, trying to avoid the curious glances from those couples who managed to prise themselves apart long enough to notice a single girl in a shop that just screamed, “Couples Only!” She noticed Neville and Luna, who smiled and waved at her, and she returned the gesture. She also caught sight of Cho Chang and Michael Corner. They were too busy to notice her. It made Ginny feel sick. It wasn’t that she still liked Michael or anything. He was the worst kind of loser. But the fact that he seemed happier with Cho than he ever had with her felt like a slap in the face. Was she that bad a girlfriend, that Cho, who had cried all over Harry, made him happier? Ginny sank dejectedly at her table, waiting for Dean to turn up, and ordered a cup of tea. Ten minutes later she ordered another one. She saw the door open and close but no one came through. She knew enough to recognise an invisibility cloak when she saw one, and wondered what Harry would be doing in here, alone, before she realised that he wouldn’t. She smirked. It was Ron and Hermione under there, trying to hide the fact that they were together in Madame Puddifoot’s teashop. She rolled her eyes and sipped at her cup of tea, even slower than before. Twenty minutes later she ordered another cup, through clenched teeth. It was now half past eleven, and Dean still hadn’t arrived. He couldn’t have got that distracted could he? Luna and Neville had left a while ago, murmuring goodbyes to her as they did. Shortly afterwards Ginny had been horrified to see Draco Malfoy arrive with Pansy Parkinson in tow. He paused at her table just long enough to sneer something like ‘Not even Creevy would go out with a weasel,’ before sitting at his own table. Soon, he and Pansy were as lost to the world as Cho and Michael, whose teas had gone cold and now had a sediment of soggy confetti floating in them. Ron and Hermione still hadn’t removed the cloak, though Ginny had seen Madame Puddifoot, looking a bit puzzled, slide a cup under it at one point. Another quarter of an hour passed, and Ginny’s head slumped onto the table. ‘Merlin,’ she thought, ‘how pathetic can I get? He has obviously stood me up. Am I in such denial that I can’t accept that?’ Her eyes were now glued to the clock that ticked softly from its space on the wall. She watched the minute hand glide upwards at the speed of a glacier, and pondered her own obviously masochistic tendencies. Eventually the hand reached its zenith. She sat up. She had been waiting a whole hour. No one would be delayed that long. The next time she saw Dean Thomas, he was officially dumped. Except, of course, that he had probably already dumped her. Without telling her, of course. And probably for that slut Parvati, too. Honestly, who flirts by planting their underwear on a boy’s bed? She stood up, and her eyes caught the seemingly empty table in the corner. Some of the bad feeling she had been nurturing spilt out of her in a desire to humiliate someone else. On the other hand, she didn’t want to compromise the secrecy of Harry’s cloak. She walked over to the table, sat down nearby and said softly, “You two can come out of hiding now.” She looked meaningfully into empty space and, after a moment, the cloak was pulled aside. Ginny smirked and opened her mouth, when she realised that the eyes staring into hers weren’t brown or blue. They were green. A shining, emerald green. And they were sad, but with sympathy, not pity. She closed her mouth abruptly. Harry calmly stuffed the invisibility cloak under him and took another sip of his coffee, but his eyes never left hers. She realised she had been staring and promptly stopped, looking down onto the table. Harry laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, Gin?” She nearly laughed at the sound of her nickname coming from Harry Potter. She looked at him again and felt herself melting into the green eyes in a way she hadn’t done since her third year. She looked away again. “I’m a total, complete idiot. I’ve wasted an entire hour for him, and if I’m honest I knew he wasn’t going to come after the first ten minutes. I feel so stupid.” To her horror, she felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes, not because Dean hadn’t come, but because she had been so blind and foolish. Harry hugged her, very gently, and when she was a bit calmer he wiped the tears from her cheeks with the corner of his robes. “Come on,” he said a bit gruffly. “I never wanted to be in this place in the first place, and I’ve been here an hour. How about I buy you lunch?” Ginny froze. Was Harry… HARRY!… asking her out? She didn’t know how to phrase the question. She asked a different one instead, one she was just as eager to know the answer to. “What were you doing here, Harry?” He looked a bit uncomfortable, and her suspicion rose when he answered. “Well, I was… passing, and I saw you in here, all alone, and I thought… well, I thought since I had the cloak anyway, I’d stay until Dean came. Just in case. I nearly hexed Malfoy through the window with that comment, but… you handled it really well, you know,” he said sincerely, a hint of admiration in his voice that Ginny had never heard before. Before she could answer the door opened again and Hermione and Ron, looking redder than the cold outside should warrant, stumbled inside. They stopped dead when they saw Harry and Ginny, who smirked at each other. Obviously, Hermione and Ron had thought that neither of them would be there. Eventually they walked over to the table. “So, here for a nice mug of cocoa to drive away the cold?” Harry asked maliciously, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Or have you already managed that part and came here for the, er… atmosphere?” Ginny added, fighting hard not to laugh. Hermione and Ron looked at each other with slightly panicked expressions, before Hermione glanced at Harry’s seat. She chuckled. “Harry… are you sitting on what I think you’re sitting on?” Harry cleared his throat as he stuffed the invisibility cloak roughly into his robes pocket, trying desperately to look casual while tucking away folds of invisible fabric that would give him away. “Come on, Gin, I think we need to leave these two alone, and I’m starving. Let’s go.” They walked towards the door, Hermione and Ron chuckling slightly as they took the seats at the table where Harry and Ginny had been. The door opened onto one of Ginny’s favourite sights in the world. A snow covered Hogsmeade. She wondered why she hadn’t really taken it in on the way, and realised that she had been so bothered about Dean that she hadn’t been able to enjoy it. Now, though, she felt… alive, and happy to be so, with Harry next to her, and smiling at her as he hadn’t done in a long time, since before the prophecy. They were just about to turn the corner towards the main street when they nearly knocked over two people, who were holding hands and rather too involved to pay attention. Ginny couldn’t help the small gasp of betrayal she let out. Dean, with Parvati’s hand in his. The look on his face was one of extreme happiness and contentment. That is, until he saw Ginny, at which his face froze into a mask of horror. “Ginny… what are you doing here?” His audacity tempered Ginny’s feelings of hurt into a blazing fury. Her eyes narrowed, and Harry stood beside her and behind, a reliable presence she knew she could rely on. “I would have thought that was obvious, Dean. I was waiting for you. In Madame Puddifoot’s. Since eleven.” The shock on Dean’s face was evidence enough for Ginny. He had forgotten. He had forgotten he had a date with his girlfriend. She looked at Parvati, who was looking at her as if she’d gone mad. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, Parvati. This idiot can’t even remember who his girlfriend is, apparently.” That got Dean’s attention, and a rage of his own settled over his face. “Are you surprised? Really? God, Ginny, I thought you would have taken the hint by now, but no, apparently you were so utterly pathetic that you really believed I would be coming, even after an hour. I thought you would have given up by now. Why do you think we’re here?” He emphasised his point by lifting Parvati’s hand, which was clasped in his, to his mouth and kissing it while not taking his eyes from Ginny. That hurt. Almost physically. Ginny actually flinched from him. Her anger was ebbing away as she began to believe what he was saying. How could she have been so witless, so naïve? Dean was right, she was just a whiny, pathetic… Wham! Parvati screamed. Dean blinked. He was lying in the snow a good four feet behind where he had been. His jaw looked like it was probably broken. Harry massaged his knuckles, before walking over to him, placing his hand on the other boy’s face and concentrating. Ginny heard the click as the bone healed, instantly. Harry stood up, glaring at Dean, his green eyes blazing but somehow much colder than the air around them. Ginny shivered. “How dare you, you utter pillock?” Harry’s voice was low and dangerous. Dean scrambled to his feet, and Parvati backed away. “How dare you make this sound like this was Ginny’s fault? How is it her fault that you’ve decided you prefer someone else?” His eyes flashed to Parvati for a moment, and she flinched at the disgust she saw in them. “Ginny has been the best girlfriend she knows how to be. I know, I saw. Because I care about my friends. I don’t like to see them get hurt. And you hurt her badly. That was a big mistake. If I were you I would run. Run, now. And if I see you again, next time I might not take the trouble to heal you.” Dean turned and fled, Parvati behind him, all the way up the high street and through the door of the Room of Requirement. Ginny saw Harry’s eyes settle from their blazing intensity to their normal, sparkling emerald. She sighed, and shivered again. “Are you cold?” Without waiting for an answer, Harry took what felt like a huge risk and wrapped his ordinary cloak, which he had been wearing under the other one, around her as well, walking close to her as they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Harry placed orders with Madame Rosmerta, then joined Ginny at a table near the roaring fireplace. The pub was crowded with Gryffindors, since this was Gryffindor’s day to use the room (they had been lucky enough to get the day itself, and not one of the other Saturdays in February), and because Gryffindors were famously unwilling to skip meals. Harry watched Ginny as they both took sips from their tankards of Butterbeer. She was still oddly quiet, and Harry could tell that she was upset from the incident with Dean. The thought of that made Harry’s blood boil. How could anyone treat Ginny like that? Ginny, who was so caring and intelligent and funny and beautiful? Ginny, whom he knew to have worked her hardest to make their relationship work? Harry hoped Dean would have the sense to keep out of his way for the next few days, because Harry felt that he couldn’t be responsible for his actions around the boy right now. For the moment, though, he was more concerned about Ginny, and how this might affect her. She was staring into the fire, seemingly avoiding his gaze. As Madame Rosmerta came over and set a plate with two rounds of toasted sandwiches in front of each of them, he had an idea. He waited until Madame Rosmerta was back at the bar before speaking, in a deliberately casual tone of voice. “I heard she snogged Dumbledore once.” Ginny almost chocked on her Butterbeer. She settled it on the table and her eyes snapped to Harry’s. Despite himself, Harry felt himself falling into those twin pools of warm brown. “What?” Harry tried his best to remain relaxed, or at least to sound relaxed. “Madame Rosmerta. She’s older than she looks, you know. Anyway, I heard that a few years ago, she and Dumbledore got drunk on some spiked Butterbeer.” Ginny looked at him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, which didn’t help Harry maintain his air of nonchalance, because it only made them more obvious. Then, the eyes narrowed. “Bollocks.” “Yeah, but I had you going for a second.” Ginny chuckled into her drink and soon both were laughing almost uncontrollably. They drew a few curious glances from their fellow Gryffindors, but didn’t care much as they continued to talk and laugh over their lunch. Half an hour later they wandered back into the snow-filled afternoon. The sun was bright but getting lower, the bare branches of the trees standing out bleakly against it. “So, where do you want to go now?” Harry asked. Ginny considered for a minute. “Zonko’s. Fred and George asked me if I’d do a little spying… check out their stock, see if they’ve got anything new. They’ve been banned from the shop. Besides, I want some more dungbombs.” Harry raised one eyebrow quizzically. “And what would you be using dungbombs for, young Miss Weasley?” Ginny affected an aloof expression. “I’m sure it’s not polite to ask a young lady such questions.” Harry snorted, and Ginny elbowed him sharply. “But since you asked, I really want to plant one in Dean’s bed.” Harry looked concerned. “Not that I think you shouldn’t get some revenge, but do you have to? Remember, Dean’s not the only one to sleep in that room.” Ginny laughed. “Okay then. I’m sure you can help me think of something better.” They continued walking, their hands brushing against each other every so often. After the third time this happened they both turned to the other and said “Sor…” before stopping, smiling and continuing on. Shortly afterwards, Harry realised that Ginny’s hand was in his. He couldn’t remember which of them had done that, but it felt wonderful, and Ginny wasn’t pulling away, so he said nothing. He just returned the small squeeze she gave him a minute later. They let go once they reached the crowded joke shop, and spent some time looking at the merchandise. Harry pointed out something he hadn’t seen before, a rubber hammer, like the inflatable pones he had seen occasionally at primary school when some kid had brought one in, except that these ones made a sound like a bell tolling when you hit someone and left their hair a different colour. Ginny nodded, and showed him how they had upgraded their nose-biting teacups to paint the user’s lips green in the process, which Harry thought quite amusing. They left a short while later, heading, inevitably, for the light and warmth and excitement of Honeyduke’s. Always a spectacular sight, the owners had outdone themselves in celebration of Valentine’s Day, and even Harry admitted he liked the new decorations. This was partly because there wasn’t a cupid in the place, nor was it overwhelmingly pink. Hearts, stars, crescent moons and other shapes floated near the ceiling, all made of silver light, and the ceiling had been painted a dark blue. With that and the shelves transfigured and charmed to look like trees with the sweets nestling in hollow trunks, and the long counter appearing to be a low and sturdy bush, the place was reminiscent of some enchanted grotto, filled with magic and laughter and, naturally, chocolate. Harry and Ginny spent a long time in the sweet shop, browsing through everything to see what they wanted. Harry got a packet of sugar quills, saying that they made being friends with Hermione much more bearable when she was nagging him to work, while Ginny stocked up on Every Flavour Beans, Fizzing Whizbees and Chocolate Frogs. She handed one to him as they left once more. The sky was beginning to darken slightly now and it was definitely colder, and they walked closer together, their purchases shrunk to fit in their pockets and their arms wrapped around themselves under their cloaks. They walked without a specific destination in mind, and soon arrived at the top of the hill near to the Shrieking Shack. There was no one else around and the world seemed utterly at peace. They paused there, leaning against a tree, and watched the sun setting behind the castle. Harry took a deep breath. He was aware, somehow, that something had changed between them this afternoon. Though nothing had been said, he knew with a certainty he hadn’t often experienced before, that Ginny liked him, just as much as he liked her. He didn’t know where the knowledge came from, but it was very welcome and encouraging. So much so that, as they stood and saw the clouds turn from grey to pink to throbbing orange, he stood behind Ginny and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder gently. Ginny tensed slightly, and for a moment Harry was worried that he’d done something wrong, that he’d been mistaken and that his feelings weren’t returned, before she relaxed into him, enjoying the feel of his solid frame supporting her. Harry sighed deeply, feeling immeasurably relaxed with Ginny held close to him, snow beginning to fall again and stinging his cheeks with its feathery kisses. “You know, maybe I should just change my name and disappear somewhere. Make everyone’s life easier.” Ginny turned in his arms and looked hard at him. “Don’t do that Harry. Please, don’t even ever think it. Everyone cares too much about you for that.” He smiled at her, and on instinct bent his head forwards, touching his forehead to hers. “Don’t worry. I’d never do that.” He paused for a moment. “You’d really miss me?” Ginny turned back around, once again leaning against him and looking at the vast expanse of wild, untamed Scottish countryside. “Yes,” she almost whispered, “more than I could stand.” There was more silence before Ginny spoke again. “What would you change your name to?” She felt him shrug against her. “I dunno. Tonic might be appropriate, wouldn’t you say, Gin?” She turned around and stared at him, convinced he had gone mad, before she burst out laughing, finally catching on to the joke. Still laughing she pushed Harry against the tree, in a kind of punishment for the terrible pun. He fell back against the tree, lost his balance and fell right into the snow. Ginny laughed harder at this, but Harry growled a little and grabbed at her ankle, yanking it towards him so that she fell as well. Soon they were both laughing, covered in snow and freezing cold. Somehow Harry ended up nearly on top of her and suddenly the humour was gone, and they just looked into each other’s eyes as the sun faded to red and lit the ground all around them. Ginny took a deep breath, ready to take an enormous risk. “Now you can kiss me, Harry.” Harry stared into her eyes, into her big, brown, beautiful eyes. His head lowered a little. Then he stopped and pulled away. “No.” “Harry?” Ginny felt like the world was falling apart around her. The way he had been acting… the way he had looked at her… she had been so certain that he felt as she did. She felt tears begin in her eyes. A record, she thought to herself, it has to be. How many other girls get rejected by two boys in the same day? “Not here.” She didn’t understand what Harry was saying, but suddenly he had pulled her to her feet, had her arm clutched in his hand, and then they were running. Down the hill, past the houses, up the street, narrowly avoiding their friends on the way to the Three Broomsticks, then through the door as fast and possible, into the corridor with the statue of the troll ballerinas, and then they were hurtling through passageways and down staircases, Ginny struggling to keep up with Harry’s furious pace, her mind paralysed, too shocked to understand what was going on. Harry didn’t stop until they had burst through the main doors and down the steps, and they were standing on the rolling, white grounds, watching the sun go down in exactly the same way as they had been, but from the other side of the castle. Once again, Harry moved behind Ginny, wrapped his arms around her, and bent his chin to her shoulder. He whispered into her ear, his warm breath sending electric jolts through her body, making her shiver. “Now I’ll kiss you, Gin. I want it to be real, and I want it to be perfect, not some illusion. This is what I want. You and me, together, here, alone. This is how it should be.” The words flowed from him before he realised what he meant, but the truth in them was undeniable. Ginny turned into him, as she had in the false Hogsmeade, and lifted her face to his. He lowered his head and caught her lips in the single most intense and enjoyable kiss either of them had ever had. Ginny felt as though she was melting, as though her entire being was becoming liquid and joining with Harry’s. After several stars had born and then gone supernova, Harry broke the kiss, but only so he could lean his forehead against hers again. He sighed deeply, and Ginny thought she had never seen him look more happy. “I’ve really fallen hard for you, Ginny Weasley. Will you be my girlfriend?” Ginny laughed, she couldn’t help herself. She had just had the best snog of her life with the boy of her dreams whom she’d been in love with since the age of twelve, and only after that had he asked her to be his girlfriend. There was something wonderfully perverse about the whole thing. Harry waited patiently for her laughter to subside, partly because he would never get tired of hearing that sound, with a slightly amused look on his face. Eventually she pulled herself together. “Yes, Harry, I will. Although normally, I would wait a bit longer after breaking up with Dean before going out with someone else.” There was a pause, and then they both laughed. Then Ginny reached up and cupped Harry’s cheek in her hand. “I love you Harry. And I will always be there for you. I’ll always be there to make you laugh, or to cry with you, or to yell at you if you need it.” She kissed him again, more briefly this time. Harry looked at the wonderful girl in his arms. “I think I love you to, Gin. And now I really have something to fight for. A reason to defeat Vol- Tom completely,” he amended, remembering how Ginny nearly always referred to him as Tom, and recalling that Dumbledore had done the same thing during their battle. “And I’ll protect you as well, because you mean everything to me.” They kissed again, slowly, tenderly, as the sun finally sank below the horizon and the stars winked out of the night sky above them. They remained that way for a long time. “Er… Harry… I think you have something on your lips.” The voice was familiar, although the teasing tone in it was not. They broke apart slowly to see Hermione, leaning casually against the door, looking at them with a mixture of triumph and amusement on her face. Next to her stood Ron, who was redder than Harry had ever seen him, which was saying a lot. “Potter! What the bloody hell are you doing to my sister?” He was apoplectic with rage, and Harry took a nervous step behind Ginny, who looked at him over her shoulder, just as amused as Hermione. “Looks like I’ll have to protect you too,” she said softly as Ron stormed towards them, Hermione just behind him. Harry gripped Ginny’s hand. “That’s not quite what I was expecting…” (AN: Well, I hope you like it. It was fun to do. I think all the bonus phrases are there. Sorry if you’re waiting for an update on ‘Friends and More’ (though I don’t know why you would be…). I’m part the way through chapter eighteen, which is, by the way, the penultimate chapter, but I kept having these ideas for this, so I thought I’d take a break and do something a bit different. I’ll try and update soon. Thanks to Serpentspawn for looking through this, as well. Happy Valentine’s Day! Grumble grumble… ;-) -Tom) |
| Reviews 17 |
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