SIYE Time:17:30 on 9th December 2024 SIYE Login: no | | |
|
|
|
Category: Muggle Picnic Challenge (2005-2)
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor, General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 21
Summary: When a Muggle picnic leads to unexpected circumstances, Harry and Ron are faced with dire straights. They must either spill their hearts, bear their souls, and admit their feelings to Ginny and Hermione, or risk losing what is most important to them.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5106
|
|
Chapter | |
|
Spill Your Heart, Bear Your Soul
by: Michael the Violet Eyed
Disclaimer — The characters, settings, and other such aspects of this story belong to JKR. I claim no rights to JKR’s copyrighted material, and my only profit will be your reviews.
Harry sat at the top of a hill overlooking the lake. The waves gently lapped at the shore, reflecting a dazzling, mid-April sunrise. A dazzling, early sunrise. Harry was not usually an early riser, but half past five in the morning on a Saturday was simply ridiculous!
He supposed he should blame Hermione. After all, this Muggle picnic was her idea. She, along with a group of half-bloods and Muggle-borns including Dean, Seamus, Colin, and Dennis, were working on setting the picnic up on the level ground at the foot of the hill. Blankets had been lain out, tables set up, and games prepared.
Ron and Ginny were helping as well. Much to Ron’s chagrin, he had been recruited by Hermione as the head chef. He stood now before the Muggle barbecue grill, attempting in vain to figure out just how it worked. Ginny, glad to take a break from her fifth-year O.W.L. studies, was helping the Creevy brothers set up the games. She appeared to be actively avoiding Dean, and Harry was glad to see that things hadn’t worked out too well for them.
Wait a moment. Why should I be glad about that? Dean and Ginny are my friends!
Harry pondered this for a moment, and reasoned that the whole relationship had made him uneasy from the beginning. Something about it had seemed wrong, even when she’d first mentioned it on the train. He must have just sensed they were wrong for each other. Yes, that had to be it…
“Harry! Get down here! We need your help!” Harry snapped out of his state of pensive thought and ran down the hill. Ginny, Colin, and Dennis were struggling to lift a fairly large log from the side of the lake.
“Harry,” Ginny said, panting with exertion. “We want to move this over to where Parvati and Padma are setting up the sack race and the his-and-her three-legged race. We want to use it as a bench.”
“Yeah!” Dennis piped up. “We’re gonna make a bench and set up some fondues so people who don’t want to compete can watch!” Colin rolled his eyes at his brother.
“You mean futons, Dennis?” Dennis scowled and crossed his arms.
“Futon, fondue, what’s the difference?” Ginny chuckled and turned back to Harry.
“So what do you think, Harry? Can you give us a hand?” Harry looked down at the log and sized it up. It was about half again as big around as his waist, and it was only just longer than he was tall. Squatting down, he managed to get his hands underneath. “Harry, you can’t do that alone. It’s very heavy.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry inhaled and lifted the log. He felt his muscles tense under his Muggle tee-shirt. It was black with the words ‘got milk’ printed in white letters. He would probably end up getting it wet, but he didn’t much care if he won the Best-Dressed Muggle competition.
Harry walked the log slowly over to where Padma and Parvati were working. Ginny and the Creevy brothers followed. Harry set down the log where Ginny pointed and heard her give out a low whistle.
“Wow, Harry, you are strong.” Harry looked up and smiled. He couldn’t help but think that Ginny looked cute in her light blue Muggle tee-shirt and khaki shorts-
Whoa, Harry, hold it! This is Ginny! Besides, I can’t be thinking like that. People who get to close to get hurt, or…
Harry sighed. He needed to stop thinking that way. He couldn’t let thoughts of Sirius weigh him down. Faintly behind him he heard Padma and Parvati whispering.
“Look at his arms! Quidditch playing is definitely doing him some good.”
“Tell me about it! Maybe we can get him alone after the races are over.”
“Yeah, I’d love to get into a sack with him!” Harry coughed obviously and walked off to help Ron figure out how the grill worked.
~ * ~ * ~
At eleven o’clock, students who hadn’t been involved in the process of setting up began to amble down from the castle. Ron, who had figured out how to use the grill with help from Harry, began to cook the burgers and sausages. He had never prided himself much on his cooking, but he supposed he was as good as the next guy.
Hermione stood nearby, acting as overseer for the whole project. He gazed at her fondly, admiring her outfit. She was wearing a pink tank top that said ‘Miss Behave’ and a denim skirt. It wasn’t often that he could see her legs, but now he admired them. They were toned and tan. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail.
She is such a beautiful girl.
The scent of burning burgers caught his attention. He stared at the grill in horror as black smoke began to issue forth. Flames shot up in torrents. He tried desperately to turn it off, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. Eventually Dean ran over and, having used Muggle appliances all his life, shut off the propane valve.
The burgers on the grill were charred black, but because he had a table set out with perfectly edible food, he was surprised when Hermione walked over to him, seething. Her arms were rigid, and she stared at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Her voice was shrill, and she looked furious.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Ron stammered, taken aback. One moment he had been admiring her beauty, and the next she was yelling at him. “I didn’t mean-”
“Is this supposed to be some sort of revenge for making you get up early?” she cut him off. “You know how important this is to me!” Ron just gaped, lost for words.
“It was an accident. I- I was just-”
“Just what?” she demanded. “Trying to exact revenge?”
Ron could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He was frustrated, and the one thing he didn’t want was for Hermione to see him cry. Yanking the white chef’s hat off his head, he turned and stalked off towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He took a seat on a stump and fought back the tears as best he could. Eventually they got the better of him. He cried freely, wondering what he had ever done wrong.
Am I not rich enough? Not smart enough? Is she just not attracted to me? What do I have to do to make her see how much she means to me?
Ron sat in miserable silence for a while and watched as the games began to take place without him. Not that he cared. He wasn’t in the mood for fun and games now. He sat there sullenly, feeling miserable for himself. A small voice in the back of his head began to nag at him.
Why are you taking this?
“Because I love her.”
What did she ever do for you that you should sacrifice your own happiness for her?
“She doesn’t have to do anything!” He yelled at himself in frustration. “She is herself, and that’s enough for me.”
There are other girls.
“I don’t want other girls. I need her. And I will make her see that much today, one way or another! Now sod off!”
Coming back to reality, he felt rather foolish for yelling at himself. Fortunately he was alone, and there was no one there to see him. Ron hung his head and racked his brain for any way to express his feelings for Hermione, but nothing seemed appropriate. Besides, he was certain she wouldn’t be willing to talk to him at this point. Ron felt a single tear roll down his cheek and watched it fall to the ground.
~ * ~ * ~
Hermione stood near the long table where some of the students were eating. Others were stretched out on blankets. More than a few had gone off together in pairs. Harry and Ginny were seated next to each other at the table across from Luna and Neville. She half listened to their conversation.
“Wow, Harry,” Luna commented, “three burgers. You must be hungry.”
“That’s nothing,” Harry laughed. “Ginny’s already had four. And a sausage.”
“She really ate all of that?!” Neville asked incredulously.
“You had better believe it,” Ginny replied.
“There’s nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.” Harry defended.
“Especially if your family is dirt poor and you live off table scraps,” a bored voice drawled from behind them. Hermione turned to see Malfoy, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry got up and pointed his wand at Malfoy. Hermione would have intervened, but seeing that Harry was doing this in the defense of Ginny and her family, stayed her tongue.
“Take that back, you dirty little ferret!” Malfoy just smirked.
“Now, now, Harry, you know the rules. This is a Muggle picnic. No magic allowed.” Harry glared and pocketed his wand.
“You’re right,” he said as he briefly glanced around. Then, much to Malfoy’s surprise, Harry jabbed with his right fist, hitting him squarely on the nose. The punch resulted in a sickening crack, and Malfoy fell over backwards, a trail of hot blood running down his face. Crabbe and Goyle stood stunned for a moment, and then ran off.
Malfoy screamed, and Professor McGonagall rushed over.
“What is happening here?” Neville ran over to where Malfoy lay a picked up a horseshoe that had been thrown that way earlier and had never been taken care of.
“He got hit in the face by a poorly thrown horseshoe, Professor.” McGonagall nodded and looked at the students playing horseshoes. Several of them who had seen what had happened nodded vigorously in agreement with Neville. Professor McGonagall conjured a stretcher. Malfoy tried to protest, but McGonagall pointedly ignored him as she carried him to the Hospital Wing.
“Well done, Neville!” Luna congratulated him. Hermione smiled but said nothing.
“Hermione, look at this!” Hermione turned to where Dean stood by the grill.
“What is it, Dean,” she asked.
“The propane tank. It was punctured. Who knows how long it was leaking gas? I bet a Slytherin did this. No wonder it blew up on Ron!” Hermione backed away slowly, hand over her mouth.
What have I done?
Recalling that Ron had gone up toward the forest, she sprinted away from the picnic.
“Hermione!” Someone called from behind her. “The games are starting. Where are you going?” She ignored the question and left the picnic behind. She stopped at the edge of the forest and looked around. Finally she spotted Ron, sitting on a tree stump, staring at the ground. The front of his bright orange tee-shirt was wet with…tears?
“Because I love her.” Had she heard correctly? Who was he talking to anyway? Hermione crept closer and hid behind a bush.
“She doesn’t have to do anything!” Hermione nearly jumped up at this sudden outburst, but managed to remain hidden. “She is herself, and that’s enough for me.” Hermione was now very confused, but she listened on intently.
“I don’t want other girls. I need her. And I will make her see that much today, one way or another. Now sod off!” Hermione looked around, but she was quite certain that there was nobody else around for him to be talking to. She heard him give several muffled sobs. Face etched with guilt, she stepped out of hiding and into plain view of Ron.
~ * ~ * ~
Ginny stood up from the table and pulled Harry to his feet. Holding onto his arm, she dragged him toward the his-and-her three-legged race.
“Thank you for standing up for me Harry.” Leaning up, she kissed him softly on the cheek. She got immeasurable satisfaction from the shade of red she engendered. “And as a reward, you get to be my partner in the race.” Harry smiled deviously.
“You and I in a contest together? That’s hardly fair to the competition.”
“What competition?” She matched his smile with one just as crafty. She looked around at the other groups in the contest.
Neville and Luna, Seamus and Parvati, Dean and Susan, Padma and Colin… We’ve already won.
“Alright, Ginny, you’re on. Let’s show them what we can do.” For a moment, Ginny felt certain that something had changed his eyes. They seemed to get brighter, more vibrant and mysterious. Shaking her head, she passed it off as her imagination. Still, when Harry’s arm brushed her leg as he tied the two of them together, she couldn’t help but notice the identical gooseflesh on her leg and his arm.
They walked to the starting line together and used that small opportunity to get accustomed to walking together. Taking their place, Harry turned to her.
“Inside leg first?” She nodded. “Let’s win this.” Professor Flitwick called out the start of the race.
“On your marks…get set…go!” Harry and Ginny shot off, leaving most everybody else behind. Luna and Neville fell at the first turn, laughing, to the ground. Susan and Dean kept up and almost managed to pass them, but tripped twenty yards from the end. Harry and Ginny took the last turn and sprinted through the ribbon that marked the finish line. The other groups dashed past afterwards.
“Our second runners up,” Flitwick called when they were all finished, “are Dean Thomas and Susan Bones! First runners up, Katie Bell and Lee Thompson! And the winners of the his-and-her three legged race…Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley! Come claim your prizes!”
Their prizes turned out to be large bars of chocolate from Honeydukes which they set aside to eat later. Harry then led her off to the shade of a tree where they could lie down and watch the kites being flown. Undoubtedly the most impressive was an enormous Thestral kite that Luna had designed, and it won first prize at the judging.
“You know, Ginny,” Harry said, turning to face her, “we make a good team.”
“I think so too,” she said with a smile. “We should work together more often.”
“I’d like that.” Harry rolled onto his back and looked up at the leaves of the tree above him. Ginny watched him, glad that he was enjoying himself. He’d been in such a terrible mood for the longest time, ever since Sirius had died, really, and he wouldn’t allow himself to have any fun. Now, though, he seemed amiable, sociable, and it thrilled her heart to know that she had played a hand in that.
I wish he could be like this more often. I wish he would open up more. I wish…
Ginny tried not to think it, but ended up in failure. It always came back to the same thing, no matter how hard she tried.
I wish he would love me as much as I love him.
~ * ~ * ~
Ron’s eyes were closed, and he really wasn’t paying any attention to what was going on around him, so he was very surprised when he felt a pair of arms grip him around the neck in a hug. He caught the familiar scent of Hermione’s shampoo and instinctively hugged her back. He tried not to let any of his tears fall onto her neck, but failed. Hermione must have felt them, as she too began to cry.
“Oh, Ron, I am such an idiot, and I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?” Ron continued to hold Hermione to him, completely at a loss. Something had to have happened. He just wasn’t sure what.
“I already have.” This only seemed to make her cry even more. When she finally got a check on her emotions, she let go of him and sat back. She lifted a hand to his face and gently wiped his tear stained face.
“I don’t know what got over me. I was so stressed with my desire for this to be perfect, I didn’t even think about what I was saying. My accusations were completely irrational. And it wasn’t your fault at all. Somebody, a Slytherin, most likely, sabotaged the grill.” She was gently biting her bottom lip, a trait he found most endearing. Apparently, she was still afraid he would be mad with her.
“Hermione… I’m not mad at you. I never was. I never could be.” The last part he added in a lower tone, and for a moment he wondered if she had even heard.
“Why not? I was completely out of place. I was rude, caustic. You have every right to be mad at me.”
Come on. This is it. I can do this. This is my opportunity to bear my soul to her.
“How can I be angry with you when I am so madly in love with you?” He couldn’t believe that he had just said that. Any moment now she would leave, she would run away, and it was his fault.
“What…what did you say?”
Oh, great. This is it, I guess. There is no sense in trying to turn back now.
“I love you, Hermione. I mean, I’ve always liked you, and I’ve fancied you for the longest time now, but time has a tendency to make things grow. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Ever since you came into my life, I’ve had something to look forward to, every day. Whether it was seeing your beautiful face in the Common Room in the morning, or the opportunity to write to you over the summer, you’ve made it all worthwhile.” Hermione just stared at him, speechless. After an eternity of painful waiting, she spoke.
“You, Ronald Weasley, are the single most wonderful person I have ever met, and I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve a friend like you.” Ron smiled.
“I know exactly what you've done. You have been yourself. And that’s all I want.” Ron cautiously closed the space between them, but when he saw the look in her eyes, all doubt was lost. He pressed his mouth lightly to hers as his arms slid about her waist. She moaned softly and held him tighter around the neck as he deepened the kiss, intent on showing her just how much she meant to him.
After a time they parted, mostly for need of air, but they remained close. Hermione’s breathing was staggered and heavy. Ron leaned his forehead against hers and they locked eyes.
“I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without you Hermione, and now I don’t think I can do it any longer. Will you be mine?” Hermione smiled and briefly pressed her warm lips to his.
“Yes, Ron. Words are insufficient to describe how deeply I love you. I will be yours.” Ron smiled and, if he’d had any left, he would surely have cried tears of joy.
~ * ~ * ~
Harry lay on his back still, staring vacantly at the leaves of the tree above him. He was unaware that Ginny’s intense brown eyes were fixed on him.
“I’ve had a lot of fun with you, Ginny.” Harry immediately bit his tongue. He didn’t want to go too far. He had had fun with her. It had been the most amazing day he’d had in a long time. He had been able to see Ginny in a new light. If he wasn’t careful, he would fall for her completely.
Oh, who am I kidding? I already have.
She was beautiful, funny, smart, sweet, athletic, interesting. She was nothing short of extraordinary, and he had been able to see this since last year. She had matured into an amazing witch, and he knew any boy his age would be lucky to call her his own… The problem was that he wasn’t any boy. He was cursed by the prophecy, and he couldn’t let it hurt her.
As if having read his thoughts, she reached over and ran the back of her hand gently down his cheek, making him shiver, and then spoke.
“Harry, what’s troubling you? There’s something you haven’t told us? Harry, we all want to be here for you, to help you, but how can we help if you won’t tell us what’s wrong?” Ginny face showed genuine worry. Harry found himself sinking into her warm, brown eyes, and before he realized what he was doing, he was spilling out his heart to her.
“Ginny, you have no idea how much I want that. I want to let you all in. I want to let you be there for me. I want-” Harry found himself choking on his own words, and was barely able to continue. “I want to let myself love you, Ginny. But the prophecy… oh the God forsaken prophecy!” Ginny was gripping his hand firmly now, apparently sensing his need for physical support.
“Dumbledore was there, Ginny, when the prophecy was made. He kept a memory of it in his pensieve. And basically it said that the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord would be born as the seventh month dies, and that the Dark Lord would mark him as his equal. My scar…it’s me, no question. It says that I will have a power that he knows not, and it says-” Harry struggled to force the words from his mouth, but as he had told nobody else yet, the words seemed foreign.
“It says that if I don’t kill him, he will kill me. It murder or be murdered, Ginny.” Ginny stared at him in wonder, seemingly trying to process all he’d just confessed.
“Then you will kill him.”
“What? How can you know?” Ginny took his other hand and held it tightly also.
“Because I know you. And I know him. You are strong, Harry, and you have our love and support to give you strength. Tom doesn’t have that. In fact, maybe that’s your power. Harry, you are capable of love, but if you hide it, you are hiding the main thing that makes the two of you different. You’re both powerful, but he feels no love.”
Harry looked at Ginny, amazed by her intellect. What if she was right? What if this was his power?
“Dumbledore told me that love was what saved me as a baby: my mother’s love. She willingly gave up her life to save mine, and her love blocked a curse that should have killed me.”
“You see Harry! Tom will never know that kind of power! But neither will you, if you don’t let yourself.” Harry looked at Ginny. His stomach was turning, his heart throbbing in his throat.
Can I do it? Can I risk it? Do I have the strength?
“Harry. Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me.” That did it for Harry. Throwing caution to the wind, and ignoring the voice of worry that had controlled him for so long, Harry rolled and held himself over Ginny. Her eyes danced with anticipation. Lowering himself to her, Harry sealed his fate.
Their lips touched lightly at first, but before he knew what was happening, they were entangled together, kissing each other so fervently that all thoughts of the prophesy, of Voldemort, of anything but Ginny, were driven from Harry's mind.
~ * ~ * ~
It was four thirty when everyone was called to the lakeside for the announcement of the Best-Dressed Muggle Boy and Girl awards. The judges had paid close attention to costumes all day and were ready for the final competition of the day.
Harry sat with Ginny, holding her hand. Ron and Hermione, also locked at the hands, sat next to them. Ginny shared a glance with Hermione who looked absolutely ecstatic. Hermione noticed her hand in Harry’s and raised her eyebrows. Ginny simply smiled and nodded.
She turned her attention back to the judges: McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and Dumbledore. Dumbledore rose to make the announcement, and everyone became silent.
“I will now make the announcement for the Best-Dressed Muggle competition. The decision was difficult, but a consensus has been reached. The Best-Dressed Muggle Girl Award goes to… Ms. Luna Lovegood!”
Everyone applauded enthusiastically as Luna, seemingly lost in thought, strolled leisurely over to Dumbledore. She wore a modest, yellow hippie dress covered with orange flowers. On her head was a wide-rimmed hat adorned with a long pheasant feather. Harry leaned over and whispered into Ginny’s ear.
“I’d sure like to see Snape in that outfit, wouldn’t you?” Ginny nearly burst out laughing, but managed to keep it down to a relatively polite chuckle. Harry released her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her waist. Ginny kissed his cheek.
“It’s nice to see you happy again.”
“And now,” Dumbledore continued, “the Best-Dressed Muggle Boy award is presented to our own…Dennis Creevy!”
Dennis, looking rapturous, maneuvered through the crowd to stand by Dumbledore. He was dressed entirely in a red and white striped costume, bobbled hat included, that somebody nearby said was based on a children’s book called ‘Where’s Waldo?’
“To our Best-Dressed Muggles go gift certificates to Madame Malkin’s. This concludes our picnic. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves.” Ginny noticed that he seemed to be looking pointedly at her. Ginny smiled and turned to Harry.
“I most certainly enjoyed myself. How about you, Harry?”
“I did too, but I think today could be even better.”
“Oh? How so?” Ginny asked. Harry took her hand in his.
“My day would be perfect, Ginny Weasley, if you would agree to be my girlfriend.” Ginny placed her free hand on the nape of his neck and leaned up to kiss him.
“I would be honored, Harry Potter, to call myself yours. I love you.” Harry beamed down at her.
“And I love you, Ginny Weasley, more than life itself.” And for the first time in a long while, Harry Potter truly loved his life.
A/N - Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this story. It is my first submission on this site. I would appreciate any and all reviews. If you let me know what you liked or didn’t like, I can improve things in the future, and keep the things that worked well.
The bonus lines I used appeared in the following order…
Futon, fondue, what’s the difference?
Quidditch playing is definitely doing him/her some good.
I’d love to get into a sack with him/her!
She/he stared at him/her like he/she had lobsters crawling out his/her ears.
He/She really ate all of that?!
Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me.
I’d sure like to see (name) in that outfit, wouldn’t you?
|
Reviews 21
|
Chapter | |
|
../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!
|