|SIYE Time:19:24 on 25th January 2022|
Category: Angst Valentine Challenge (2006-1)
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor
Warnings: Extreme Language
Story is Complete
Summary: What is the difference between a good day and a bad day? Who decides what kind of day you're going to have? Your enemies are lurking everywhere, waiting for a chance to strike - in the shape of a barny owl, or even disguised inside your morning toast.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3987
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters - except for the DADA teacher, Kenneth Bishop.
A/N: The text in italics belongs to the story of Ginny's day. Her conversation with Parvati and Hermione is written from her point of view. Enjoy!
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
The heads of Hermione Granger and Parvati Patil looked up as I entered the Seventh Year Girls’ Room, blasting the door open in my fury.
“I should have known,” I said angrily.
That’s all I could think about.
I should have known… again, and again, I was being witness to numerous signs that mine was going to be a bad day, and still, I didn’t realise it.
But I should have known.
Auntie Muriel used to say that everything depends on your morning toast. If you drop it, and it falls on its buttered face, you’re doomed. Whenever she said that, I just laughed and thought, “What a lot of nonsense.”
So, obviously, when this happened to me, Ginny Weasley, at breakfast on the morning of the 14th of February, Tuesday and Valentine’s Day, I just picked up the toast and didn’t give it another thought. I was too busy speculating about what my wonderful boyfriend Harry Potter could have prepared for me on such an important date.
“What’s happened?” said Hermione, looking at me quizzically. “Who’re you mad at?”
But before I could reply, Parvati sighed and answered for me. “Guess it’s the same that happened to us, Hermione. It seems like it’s happened to everyone. So, did Harry forget about Valentine’s Day?”
I nodded, sighing, and threw myself facedown onto Hermione’s bed. Stupid bed. Why was I dropping myself on it, anyway? Stupid me. Am I trying to hide? Do I really think I’d be able to hide, with the hair of mine? Stupid hair. Stupid everything.
“Tell us,” said Hermione. “Parvati and I are done commiserating.”
I got up and walked around it to join them on the floor, hitting my toe with the canopy in the process (stupid canopy!). I yelled in pain, grasping my toe, which hurt a terrible lot for being so tiny, and limped towards the girls. I dropped myself on the floor, and hit it very hard (stupid floor!). They both looked at me with raised eyebrows. I let go of my toe and rearranged myself in a more dignified position. Then I got ready to tell my story — which would have been funny if it had happened to somebody else. It would have been hilarious — but it happened to me, so I didn’t really laugh that hard.
“Before you hear my story, I must warn you. Auntie Muriel never lies. I’m telling the truth, never. Not even with the toast. It really did some kind of unlucky spell upon me. Definitely, I should have known.”
The Great Hall looked like it did on a normal day. However, it wasn’t a normal day. It was St Valentine’s Day.
Girls were giggling excitedly along the House tables, boys were chatting animatedly about what they would do for the girl of their dreams, and Ginny Weasley and her best friend, Hermione Granger, were speculating enthusiastically about what their day was going to be like.
“Oh, it’s going to be so amazing!” exclaimed Ginny, giggling. “I mean, I’ve been dreaming all my life of going out with Harry, and now he’s mine, and it’s Valentine’s Day? How could this day go wrong?”
A bunch of owls came into the Hall, and as a barn owl landed next to Hermione to deliver her copy of the Daily Prophet, it knocked the toast Ginny was buttering out of her hand. It landed on the floor — buttered side down.
“Hmpf,” muttered Ginny, picking up her toast, while ill-natured feelings towards the owl wandered her mind.
Hermione had a look at the front page of the newspaper, and then put it away in her bag, deciding her talk with Ginny was more important.
“I’m so excited,” she said. “It’s our first Valentine’s Day!”
Ron and Hermione had been together for a few months now, and after all those years dancing around each other, they were really happy that they were finally being true to their feelings.
Hermione giggled, and Ginny’s eyes got round as saucers.
“Are my ears tricking me, or did Hermione Jane Granger just giggle?” she exclaimed. Hermione giggled again, and Ginny laughed.
“Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?” she joked. “Really, I don’t know what my brother has done to you.” Hermione blushed scarlet.
Ginny wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “You know what, don’t even answer.”
“Look, there they come!” said Hermione, swatting Ginny’s arm to call her attention. Ginny’s toast fell again — and again, it fell face down.
“Stupid toast,” muttered Ginny. Then she sat bolt upright to look at her brother and her boyfriend, both approaching them with smiles on their faces and her face lit up with excitement.
Harry and Ron walked towards the Great Hall, their bags hanging over their shoulders. They were talking animatedly.
“Did you see the new announcement on the board?” asked Ron, grinning.
Harry grinned back. “Yep! Valentine’s Day visit to Hogsmeade on Saturday! Can’t wait!”
“Me neither! I’m going to make it the best day of Mione’s life!” said Ron. Harry smiled, his eyes twinkling.
“What, three months together and you already have a pet name for her?” he teased.
Ron blushed slightly, but held his ground. “So? You call my sister Gin! What’s the difference?”
Harry grinned. “Ouch, you got me there.”
They could see the great oaken doors mere feet away from them.
“So, what will you do for Hermione?” asked Harry, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“I don’t really know, but it’s got to be special,” said Ron. “Maybe I’ll take her to Madam Puddifoot’s…”
Harry snorted and looked at his friend. “Ron, have you ever been to Madam Puddifoot’s?” he said, sniggering.
“Because it’s all pink and fluffy, and there’s little cupids flying around the place all the time.”
“Well, it can’t be that bad. I’ll stand for it.”
“The Cupids throw confetti into your food, Ron.”
Ron looked alarmed for a second, and then he shook his head. “No Madam Puddifoot’s!”
Harry laughed and rolled his eyes as they entered the Great Hall.
“So, what are you doing for my sister?” asked Ron.
“No way! I don’t want you to steal my idea,” he teased. “Besides, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”
As they were walking up the aisle between the tables, many girls’ heads turned to look at them, but they spotted their respective girlfriends and were oblivious to their surroundings.
“Oh, come on, Harry, you have to tell me,” begged Ron.
Harry shushed him. “Tell you later! I don’t want them to hear us.”
They sat down with them, Harry next to Ginny and Ron next to Hermione.
“Good morning, my fair lady,” said Harry playfully, and kissed Ginny briefly on the lips.
“Good morning, my good sir,” she answered, playing along. Most of the girls who heard their little exchange let out long ‘aws’.
“Good morning, Mione,” said Ron, and he kissed her too. She bid him good morning too and looked at Ginny, who smiled.
Ron took some pancakes and started eating under Hermione’s amused glance. Harry reached out for two pieces of toast, one for himself and one for Ginny. He buttered hers first and gave it to her, a smile on his face. She smiled back, melting. He did this every day, but today Ginny thought (was it her imagination or did it really happen?) that Harry’s smile was a little bit warmer.
Some girls sighed longingly, Harry, taking this as a sign that he had done something sweet, grinned proudly, and he felt like he’d just grown a few inches. Ginny leaned in to kiss him, but when their lips were about to make contact, they were interrupted.
“Harry Potter?” said a small voice behind them. Harry turned, and the result of this was that Ginny didn’t get to kiss him, but stood there, looking stupid, her eyes closed, and a frustrated expression taking over her face as the tiny first year student broke the magic of her perfect moment.
Ginny sighed grumpily and began to eat her toast.
“That’d be me,” said Harry.
“Headmistress McGonagall has a note for you, sir,” said the first year, handing Harry a roll of parchment. He scanned it quickly and thanked the first year, who went to meet his friends.
“What is it?” asked Ginny curiously.
“I have to go meet McGonagall in her office,” said Harry, getting up. Ginny looked at him sadly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see you at lunch, I promise!” he said, kissing her forehead, and went running out of the hall. Ginny sighed again and looked at him run down the aisle between the tables towards the doors, and a mischievous smile twitched up the corners of her lips. Maybe they could skip lunch and have a small picnic near the lake… when there were no first years to bother them.
“Did you have a picnic, then?” asked Parvati excitedly.
“Shh, listen!” said Hermione, beckoning me to continue.
Ginny was sharing a large puff with Luna Lovegood. They were in Divination class. Why she had decided to keep on taking this class, Ginny did not know — but she had come to realise that this had been, probably, the stupidest decision she had taken in her whole 16-year-long life.
She was bored almost to death (she figured she would die in the next 3 minutes — give or take a few seconds) and Professor Trelawney, who was teaching Sixth Year, was not providing any chances of survival for Ginny. Her eyelids began to drop as Trelawney went into depth about the angle Mars and Venus formed, which meant that those born during the spring were going to have a day full of love and tenderness. Ginny rolled her eyes with the little energy she had left (this was even worse than History of Magic) and lazily tried to make out the words her teacher was speaking.
“Of course, my dears, those of you who have the Sight — and notice things other people are too bothered to realise,” she looked at Ginny sternly, who rolled her eyes at her, “must be aware of the propitious signs that tell us that, in the near future, some people will see themselves surrounded by love everywhere.” I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that today’s Valentine’s Day? thought Ginny sarcastically.
“Last night, I woke up suddenly from my sleep with a tremendous urge to consult the misty depths of the crystal ball, my dears,” said Prof. Trelawney, looking at them over her too-big spectacles. “And the ball told me everything, as it usually does. It was then I noticed the angle between Mars and Venus, which, you know, represent the man and the woman respectively…”
Ginny sighed. She had been fighting the slumber that was looming over her, but the scents of the room smelled so good… sweet… the fire was warm… warm… her eyelids began to drop… and she gave in to sleep, thinking she really wasn’t missing that much.
“You fell asleep in Divination?” asked Parvati, outraged.
“It’s not too difficult, you know,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes.
“Ginny… Ginny!” said Luna, nudging Ginny back into consciousness.
“Huh?” asked Ginny, opening her eyes, confused.
“I was saying,” said Prof. Trelawney, a hint of annoyance in her voice, “that I am at a loss to why you have gone on with this class-”
“That makes two of us,” said Ginny under her breath.
“- it is obvious that you do not possess the Sight, just as it is obvious that you are going to have a very, very bad day. I see disappointment, yes. Of course, I have known for a while, as I saw this in the ball, too. I saw your anger, your disappointment, I saw —”
“A fraud staring back at you?” suggested Ginny in a whisper, beginning to think she might just take a leaf out of Hermione’s book and abandon the class.
Though there was really no need for that, as the bell rang in that instant, so Ginny was able to escape the Bug Lady and go down to the Great Hall for lunch, where she would see Harry.
“But Harry didn’t go to lunch, did he?” said Hermione, puzzled.
“No, he didn’t,” I said. “I went into Herbology without even waving at him from afar. I didn’t see him at all.”
Ginny went out of Greenhouse 3 covered head-to-foot in soil, sweat and compost. The vicious plant they had been studying that day — Ginny didn’t even know its name, as she had been more concerned about its numerous attempts at strangling her — felt, according to Professor Sprout, attracted to vivid colours. So the fact that Ginny had flaming red hair wasn’t helping her at all. Stupid plant. Stupid hair.
Fuming, she headed towards Hagrid’s cabin, to take her Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Under her breath, she kept on swearing like only a girl with six brothers can. As she was getting nearer, an owl that was flying over her decided to poo on her shoulder. Ginny could have sworn it was the very same owl that had dropped her toast out of her hand that morning. Stupid owl.
It wasn’t such a great mood-buster the fact that Hagrid approached the students cheerfully, announcing that today they would be studying the Giant Squid. At his words, almost everybody paled, but Hagrid’s expression did not falter — he looked right like Father Christmas handing over a brand new present.
After those two horrid lessons, Ginny decided she was going to dye her hair black. The Squid, it seemed, was quite fond of bright colours as well, and tried to take Ginny away as a treasure. So, when Hagrid finally found a way to get her out of the lake, she was soaked head to foot, with some of her skin spotted with ink stains, some soil still in her hair, and a very bad temper. Hagrid let her go early, and she ran into the castle, to take her deserved shower.
However, Peeves tried to kill her along the way, and when she got to the showers, the bell had long ago rung, and all showers were occupied. It was that moment when she was so angry, so furious, so dirty, which Harry chose to appear.
“Gin — my lord, did you just come from war or what?” he asked, looking her up and down.
Ginny scowled. “I had the most horrible day. Where were you at lunchtime, anyway?”
Harry sighed angrily. “It was Bishop, the git,” said Harry bad-temperedly. Kenneth Bishop was their new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, and he seemed to have taken a liking to giving Harry detention every time he could, in a most Snape-like way. “He made me wait after class and gave me a long and boring speech about respecting the school and the teachers.”
“What happened?” asked Ginny.
“We had paired up to duel, and I was paired with that Slytherin, Nott. He attacked me, and I made a Shield Charm, so the jet rebounded, and hit Bishop’s desk, which burst in flames,” said Harry, rolling his eyes. “Shame he wasn’t sitting there at the moment. He gave me detention.”
“He gave you detention?” asked Ginny, incredulous. “When?”
“I have to go serve it right after dinner,” said Harry. “I doubt I’ll be back before midnight.”
Romilda Vane, who was just passing by, heard this, and she dedicated Ginny a wide and smug smirk. Ginny made her hands into fists and put one up to threaten Romilda, who scurried off. If only she had stayed a second longer, Ginny would have hexed her. God knows she needed some way to release the tension.
When she entered the Great Hall for dinner, she stood on tiptoe to see where Harry was sitting. She localized him halfway through their table and went up to meet him.
However, she found herself with the fact that there was not a free seat for her next to Harry, as there usually was. Her spot was taken by the same tiny first year that had interrupted them in the morning. Trying hard to resist the temptation to Bat-Bogey Hex the kid, she asked with the calmest voice she could manage, “Harry, didn’t you save me a seat?”
He looked up and he was startled when he saw her. “Well, I did… I was saving this seat for you, but then Kevin came and sat down, and he was crying… I really couldn’t kick him out of here,” he said so softly that the kid didn’t hear.
Ginny’s temper flared. Kevin? He had befriended the stupid kid, who had interrupted their perfect moment, who had stolen her spot? Ginny did not care how many tears the kid had shed — right then, her blood was boiling with adrenaline and she was dead set to get back her seat, even if it was the last thing she did in her life. She leant in to whisper in Kevin’s ear.
“Kevin, this is my spot… I want you to get out,” she said as smoothly as she could.
“I got here first!” said the kid angrily. Stupid kid.
“Do you know what a Bat-Bogey Hex is, Kevin?” she said. Kevin shook his head.
“Then get your ass away from here, or you’ll find out first-hand.”
Kevin looked at her, horrified, and ran out of the Hall, screaming, “She is wicked! Evil! I want my mummy!”
“What did you do?” asked Harry, looking at her accusingly. “Kevin’s done nothing to you!”
“Well, he has ruined my day!”
“Ruined your day? Ruined your day? How can he have? It’s not his fault you had a bad day at lessons!”
“Well, indeed it is not his fault if the Giant Squid fancied an afternoon tea with me, but if I get here in the worst mood possible, dying to be with my boyfriend for a little while, and he steals my spot, well, that is his fault!” shouted Ginny angrily.
“Why are you so angry anyway?” said Harry hotly. “Sometimes you can’t sit with me either, and you don’t make that big of a deal about it! Why are you so angry today?”
Ginny stared at him in disbelief.
“You forgot?” she asked, shocked.
“Forget what?” asked Harry, startled by the sudden change of subject.
“Do you know what day is today, Harry?”
“Tuesday?” he asked tentatively.
“Er… the day after Monday?”
Ginny rolled her eyes.
“So you forgot,” she said, sighing and sitting next to him.
“What did I forget, for Merlin’s sake?” said Harry, who was at a loss about the point of the entire conversation.
Ginny got a thoughtful look on her face. “The toast,” she muttered.
“I forgot a toast? What toast? Why did a stupid toast ruin your day, Ginny?” asked Harry, exasperated.
“No! You didn’t forget the toast! The toast did it! It was the toast!” said Ginny, angrily. “The toast made me have a bad day!”
“This is getting interesting… first Kevin, and now a toast?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows.
“You don’t understand! The toast fell!” said Ginny hotly. Harry’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.
“Ginny, did you take your medication today?” asked Ron, looking at her concernedly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Are you all dumb? The toast fell! Buttered face down!”
Lavender gasped, horrified. Ron just rolled his eyes.
“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff!”
“I didn’t! But now I do.”
“Why?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, it’s true!” chimed in Lavender. “If you toast falls buttered face-down, you’re in for a bad day! It’s an ominous sign!”
“It’s nonsense, that’s what it is,” said Ron, and Harry nodded in agreement.
“Oh, now it is — but just wait! Wait until it’s happened to you! When your toast falls buttered face down and you have the kind of day I’ve had, your eyes will open — oh ye of little faith!” said Ginny raptly, waggling her finger at them like a maniac.
“You’re scaring me, Ginny,” said Harry, eyeing her apprehensively.
She got up, said, “You will believe”, and stormed out of the hall.
Harry and Ron exchanged perplexed glances.
“What was all that about?” asked Ron.
“Not sure,” said Harry. “By the way, where’s Hermione?”
“How should I know?” asked Ron, shrugging. “Library, I guess. As every other day.”
“You forgot too?” asked Lavender, looking at him accusingly.
“Forget what?” asked Ron.
“The same thing Harry forgot!” she said, exasperated.
“What did I forget, by the way?” asked Harry, looking at Lavender expectantly.
She rolled her eyes and said “I said I’d meet Seamus in half an hour, and I really am looking forward to it. I would love to have a conversation with someone who can actually think.”
“Oh yes, Seamus certainly does think… but you wouldn’t like hearing about his thoughts,” said Dean, sniggering. The guys who heard this sniggered too — some looked at their plates to conceal it, but others smirked openly. The girls rolled their eyes. Lavender shot him a murderous look and got out of the hall.
“Girls,” said Ron, helping himself to some treacle tart. “Mad, the lot of them.”
“So, that’s my story,” I said, sighing. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”
“Eat something, Ginny,” said Parvati, pointing at a tray full of food. “Food is good for depression.”
“I’m not depressed — I’m just astonished, disappointed, feeling like…”
“Like your whole life had been adding up to this moment when you thought you would be completely happy, but then the moment arrived and you fell flat on your face — wondering what ever happened to the dream, to the illusion you had got into your foolish and naïve mind?” said Hermione, staring into space.
Parvati and I looked at each other, speechless.
“You could say that,” I said, looking at Hermione like she was sprouting tentacles. What had Ron done to her? Because if my brother’s actions of today would leave her like this forever — I’d make sure he pays.
“Your brother is a dimwit,” said Hermione. “He didn’t even bother to say ‘Happy St Valentine’s Hermione.’ Git.”
“Parvati, could you pass that brownie? I’m starved,” I said, trying to change the topic to something less depressing.
Parvati took the plate where all the brownies had been, but she didn’t give it to me. Instead, she put it in the middle of the circle they were forming, on the floor.
“I saw this in a Muggle film,” she said. “We all want the brownie, so we will have to fight for it.”
“Fight?” asked Hermione, looking at her.
“Yeah — each of us has to make herself look the most pathetic of us all three. We must earn the other two’s pity — the one who manages that can eat the brownie.”
“That won’t be difficult — my day was by far the worst. There isn’t even need for you two to speak,” I said, reaching out her hand for it, but Parvati slapped it.
“Ouch!” I said, rubbing it. It really hurt, mind. “What was that for?”
“Stick to the rules!” said Parvati sternly.
“Fine. Why don’t you go first, Hermione?” I said, eyeing Parvati’s hand with mistrust. I’d rather not repeat the experience.
“Ok,” she said. “Since I met Ron, I’ve been crushing on him. He’s a complete disaster, a mess. He’s clueless, and he really gets on my nerves sometimes. Nevertheless, I can’t help loving him — he’s so sweet when he wants to, and he’s very intelligent, best chess player I ever saw. He’s so brave and such a good friend. And friends we were for a long time, but all along, I wanted to be something more. But I controlled myself when he started snogging Lavender right in my face — or when he commented how hot Fleur was, back in our fourth year. I always wanted to go out with him — and now I’m his girlfriend, he forgets it’s Valentine’s Day!” She sighed.
Parvati and I looked at her for a second, and then smiled.
“Oh, great try, drama queen. But not good enough,” said Parvati smiling. “My turn. Where do I start?”
“The beginning would suit me fine,” I said, grinning.
“The beginning it is then,” said Parvati, smiling back. Then she rearranged her features into a determined, frustrated expression.
“Well, this morning I was waiting at the foot of the stairs like every other morning, waiting for Dean to come down. But today was Valentine’s Day, so of course I was expecting something different! And I got it, oh yes. I waited for ages, but he wouldn’t come down! I was furious! I went down to breakfast on my own, and when it’s only ten minutes for our Transfiguration lesson, Dean comes running into the Hall, and sits next to me. And what do I get? Just a, ‘Morning, Parv’. I could have strangled him in the spot!
“I say, ‘Don’t you ‘morning Parv’ me!’, and he looks at me like I’m mad or something and says ‘What’s wrong?’ and in that moment, well, he was lucky I didn’t have a knife in my hand, because I so felt like killing him! Argh!” said Parvati. She looked ready to pull out her hairs in frustration.
“I say, ‘what’s wrong, you ask? I’ll tell you! You forgot!’ and he smiles sheepishly and says, ‘sorry, I overslept’, and then he gives me a peck on the cheek! Like that would make it up to me! And the worst is, he didn’t even have a clue what I was talking about! I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I left for Transfiguration without another word,” said Parvati, sighing in defeat. For a second she looked like she had calmed down, but then she grabbed a cushion and, burying her face in it, she screamed in frustration.
I looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows. Half of me felt relieved knowing I wasn’t the only one who had been ignored on Valentine’s Day, but the other half was immerse in a deep stupor. You could spend your whole life killing clueless guys, and there’d still be thousands of them left.
“I still think the brownie belongs to me,” I said, reaching out my hand for it while Parvati’s hands were still clutching the cushion. For being such a girly girl, she hits hard.
“Not so fast,” she said, slapping my hand again. Ouch! I’ll have to write with my left hand tomorrow. Or, I could tell Bishop I couldn’t finish his essay on the Unforgivables because my hand could drop when I least expect it to. It’s a perfect plan — only that I highly doubt he’d buy it. Stupid git, he has no compassion for us poor innocent students!
“What do you say, Ginny?” asked Hermione, shaking me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?” I asked, confused. “I just missed a chapter here.”
“Parvati and I think we all had horrible days, so it’s only fair that we share the brownie. What do you say?”
“That’s ok with me,” I said, nodding. “Nothing like a good chocolate brownie to forget about problems. The way it smells, like Heaven, and its perfect appearance, like a masterpiece of angels…” I sighed, looking at the brownie with longing. Was its heavenly flavour worth risking the well-being of my right hand? I looked at Parvati from the corner of my eye, and she looked suspicious, as if she could imagine my thoughts. I wouldn’t put it past her to have the so-called Sight, or a direct line with the fates. The pre-toast Ginny would not have believed in those things, but the post-toast Ginny was much more open-minded, much more aware, much more superstitious… call it however you like.
None of us spoke as we ate our respective portions of the brownie. No words were needed — the charm must not be broken. We should keep the revering silence — and dedicate our five senses to worship whoever invented this blessing that is the brownie. Why did Professor Binns never teach us interesting historical facts, or events that changed the world — like the discovery of the chocolate brownie?
The grandfather clock in the Gryffindor Common Room struck midnight as a very harassed-looking Harry Potter went past the portrait of the Fat Lady. He went up to meet his best mate, Ron Weasley, who was slumped on a couch, sipping a Butterbeer, a look of thoughtfulness upon his face. He gave a start as he heard Harry come in and throw himself on an armchair in front of him.
“Hey Ron,” he said. He sounded exhausted, and sour.
“Hey mate,” said Ron. “How was detention with Bishop?”
“What do you think? It was horrible — bet he spent his whole day plotting ways to make my day awful — and he got his wish. I had to scrub the dungeon’s floor by hand — some stupid sixth year exploded their cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion. It’s sticky — wouldn’t come off the walls,” Harry said grumpily.
“Hermione isn’t talking to me,” said Ron. “I think she’s angry, but I can’t work out why she’d be.”
“Don’t ask me — Ginny’s behaved really temperamental today, really harsh with me — and I don’t know what in the name of Merlin I’ve done!”
“What did we forget?” asked Ron absent-mindedly, staring into space. Harry did the same, thinking hard with all his might.
When they had been pondering for a few minutes, the portrait hole opened again and in came Seamus and Lavender, looking flushed. Seamus’s arm was slipped around her waist, and he was whispering in her ear. She giggled, and proceeded to kiss him thoroughly. Ron rolled his eyes and looked away, and Harry laughed at the irony of the situation — Ron hadn’t been so uncomfortable about it when it was he snogging Lavender, back in their sixth year.
The sound of Harry’s laughter brought the happy couple back to Earth, and they pulled apart. When they saw them, Lavender blushed, and so did Seamus, although he had quite a big smug grin on his face.
“Sorry, we hadn’t seen you,” said Seamus, and kissed Lavender briefly on the lips. “Goodnight, darling,” he said and walked to the boys’ staircase.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Seamus!” Lavender called after him, and she shot Harry and Ron a meaningful glance.
At her words, Harry’s eyes widened, and he smacked himself on the forehead. “Bullshit!” he exclaimed, as Ginny’s strange behaviour acquired a new meaning. Meanwhile, Ron was pouring Butterbeer on his robes by accident, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He said, “Bloody hell!” and looked at Lavender with desperation, like expecting her to laugh or shout “April Fools!” But she didn’t, because it wasn’t the 1st of April. It was 14th of February — Valentine’s Day. Lavender smirked and went up the girls’ staircase, humming happily.
“We are such gits,” said Ron, after checking a calendar. “We prepared for Saturday, for the Hogsmeade outing, and we forgot about the actual Valentine’s Day. Now I really need to find something special for Hermione — or she won’t speak to me again.”
Harry nodded. “I’m surprised Ginny didn’t have my hide for this,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Hand that Butterbeer over, Ron.”
“Well,” I said, getting up to go back to the Sixth Year’s dorm. “I feel a tiny bit better knowing everybody had an awful Valentine’s Day.”
The door burst open, and a very euphoric Lavender came into the room, humming “All things bright and beautiful.” The heads of Hermione, Parvati and me all looked up to see her, our eyebrows raised.
“What are those long faces?” she asked, beaming. “Life is beautiful! You should be happy! You should celebrate! Life is great!”
“We would love to celebrate,” said Parvati. “But we’d need a reason.”
“I know Ron and Harry forgot,” said Lavender, looking at Hermione and me with a sympathetic look that did not fool me — and Hermione either, because she was looking back at Lavender through narrowed eyes. “But you should celebrate, Parvati! I’m sure Dean prepared a great day for you!”
Parvati arched an eyebrow sceptically, like thinking, “Excuse me?”
“Come on, tell me! What did he do for you?” asked Lavender excitedly, oblivious to the murderous looks on our faces.
“Nothing,” said Parvati, her lips pursed. “He forgot.”
Lavender’s eyes widened, and she looked at Parvati in disbelief. Then, realising Parvati was not pulling her leg, she threw back her head and laughed.
“But oh dear, I can’t believe it! I thought he would have something for you!” she said. Parvati’s temper was rising, and I got away from her as stealthily as I could — she was scary.
“So did I,” she said. “But he didn’t. And I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now, Lavender.”
“Ok, we won’t talk about Dean,” said Lavender, smiling sweetly, oblivious to the hostility towards her that was thick in the atmosphere. “But you have to hear — Seamus even took me for a night time stroll around the lake! So romantic! He even produced a bunch of roses out of thin air and handed them to me, and he said, ‘Lavender, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me, and I like you a lot’. I thought I was going to die from happiness! Of course I jumped on him and started kiss-”
“Shut up,” said Parvati, furious. In that moment, if I had had to choose between her and Lord Voldemort, I would have chosen Tom — he was such an innocent and sweet bloke next to Parvati. Her face was red from the fury, and her eyes sparkled dangerously.
“What?” asked Lavender, taken aback.
“I said, shut up,” repeated Parvati. “I do not need — or want for that matter — to hear what you and your darling Seamus got up to when the Giant Squid wasn’t looking. Probably you took good advantage of him being with the love of his life, like everybody else was.” I snorted with revulsion, hoping that Parvati was right. If the Squid were still waiting for me, I would drop Care of Magical Creatures and never come near the lake again in my life.
“Why are you angry? It is not my fault that Dean ignored you.” Parvati gasped at Lavender’s words, offended. “Or that Ronald didn’t even bother to find out where you were,” she said looking at Hermione, whose eyes flashed with anger, “or that Harry enjoys that first year’s company more than he enjoys yours!” she said, pointing at me. Idiotic girl. She should know better than to mess with the Weasley temper, the same temper that was rising to unknown levels, making my blood boil.
“What did you say?” I asked slowly but dangerously.
“You know what I said! Harry does not care about you!” she said angrily.
“He loves me,” I said, resisting the urge to throttle her. “More than you’ll ever know. He has a lot on his mind, so he forgot about this. It’s not his fault. And you don’t have the right to criticise him or me!”
“I’ll criticise whomever I like!” she said, losing it. And I lost it too. I took out my wand and pointed it at her.
“Out,” I said.
“I said, get out. Or has your only brain cell gone off to a holiday to the Boys Dormitory?”
“You can not throw me out of my own dorm, Ginny!” she shouted, outraged.
“She can’t,” said Hermione. “But we can.”
“This is our dorm too,” said Parvati. “So get out of here.”
“We don’t want to hear about your unnaturally perfect day, we don’t want you to rub it in our faces. But I’m sure you could go tell my dorm-mates — they’ll love to hear it. Or even better — why don’t you go with your dear Seamus? He’ll appreciate your presence more than we do, I’m sure,” I said, not lowering my wand.
Lavender looked from one to another, sourly, and then got out of the dorm, slamming the door behind her.
When she was out, I turned to look at Hermione and Parvati. We all looked at each other for a second, then we burst out laughing.
“The look on her face was classical!” said Parvati, clutching her sides.
“Yeah,” I said, laughing and regaining my place on the floor, next to her.
“You know, I feel so much better now,” said Hermione, grinning. “It really relieved most of the tension.”
“Who knows? Lavender-kicking could become a very popular sport — maybe more than Quidditch,” said Parvati, and I smiled. I never would have imagined Parvati could be as nice and funny as she had been today.
“This was a good ending for a really bad day,” I said, smiling at her. “Though I doubt I’ll eat toast again.”
And we all burst out laughing.
A/N: This whole story comes from the rather superstitious belief that when your toast falls buttered-face down, you're going to have a bad day. I just remembered that (a random thought) and I thought I could write it with a bit of sense of humour - here is the result. I hope you liked it. Please review! And good luck to the other people who have written entries for this challenge.
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