Thanks to St. Margarets for all of her critiques; they REALLY helped. And thanks also to Kayla for beta-ing.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was, as usual, abuzz with excitement. This was not the usual buzz that was around the school in early April, though. No one was talking about their anger that exams were coming, or that Easter holidays had just ended. The only thing that students and teachers were talking about–with the exception of the Slytherins and Professor Snape–was a rumor.

Rumors are strange things. They seem to spread quite a bit faster than truth, mostly because they are more exciting. This rumor was no difference. Something more exciting, though, was that this rumor was started by Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger, the smartest witch in the sixth year–possibly even the whole school–along with Seamus Finnigan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Harry Potter, and Dean Thomas, had suggested something to Headmaster Dumbledore. Thus, the basis of the rumor.

Hermione knew the real story behind the rumors because she had been spotted in the Library, not reading–which was quite surprising–, but talking about Muggle Picnics with a group of Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. This talk was about encouraging the bonds with the Muggle culture, by showing the school that their customs were a stimulating affair. At least, that’s what Hermione had said. After waking up, Ron Weasley had plainly stated, "We’re taking advantage of the good weather to have fun."

At the moment, Headmaster Dumbledore was explaining this meeting in the Library to the excited students. Omitting, of course, the details of Ron drooling on a table in the Library.

"Attention students," said the aged wizard. He didn’t say it loudly, but the power behind the words was there, and that was all he needed. The students immediately stopped eating breakfast. "I have an announcement to make."

The students–again, with the exception of most of the Slytherins–were on the edge of their seats.

"Recently, several students approached me with a suggestion," said Dumbledore, his eyes shining. "The students told me that they were discussing springtime activities a week ago, and that they’d explained several details about the Muggle culture. They also told me about a suggestion that was made by one of their classmates. After hearing about the goings-on of a Muggle Picnic, Ginny Weasley suggested that Hogwarts has it’s own."

Several students raised an eyebrow or nodded in thought. The Slytherins returned to their breakfast. Loudly.

"I agreed upon almost no thought," continued Dumbledore while Professor McGonagall hem hemd loudly. "This would be an excellent idea for all of you students who opted against taking Muggle Studies to learn more about Muggles. It would also be an excellent way to bring some light into these dark times."

The Hall burst into and excited uproar, though there was a significant silence from the Slytherin side of the room. After another throat clearing from Professor McGonagall, the Hall quieted again.

"The Muggle Picnic will be held this Saturday," McGonagall took over, "and there will be no magic. Attendance is strictly voluntary, but we encourage all students to attend. Activities will include: swimming, a Muggle costume contest, horseshoes, a Muggle-style barbecue, and kite flying. Other suggestions will be taken."

With that they were dismissed to their classes.

***

Harry Potter saw Ron and Hermione run off together and was immediately disappointed.

"‘Oh yes, of course we’ll wait for you, Harry,’" Harry mimicked, picking up his books grumpily.

"Hi, Harry," said a voice. Harry knew who it was before the voice had even spoken. He could tell by the casual footsteps and later, the softness in the voice, that it was Ginny Weasley. The last person he wanted to talk to. Not for reasons of dislike–oh no, definitely not for that. He liked her. Too much.

"Hey, Gin," Harry sighed. He tried not to sound too disheartened by her presence, but it wasn’t really working.

"What’s up?"

"Oh, nothing too much. Are you excited about the picnic?" He was being really bland in his conversation skills, and he wondered if this was how he always acted when he was this depressed.

She started going into a excited explanation about how glad she was that they’d convinced Dumbledore to have the picnic, and how it was a really good idea and Harry noticed how happy she really was. They walked out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase, Harry trying not to be too stony, and then, Ginny stopped.

"Are you okay?" asked Ginny, looking at Harry stare depressingly at nothing in particular.

"I’m fine." He continued walking. Maybe, if she believed his stupidly versed lie, she’d just stop the conversation.

"Harry," said Ginny, suddenly at his side. She grabbed his face and turned it towards her. "If you want to be friends you have to be honest with me. I’m not going to be like Ron and Hermione and just act like nothing’s wrong."

"I’m sorry," said Harry, walking and taking a wide right towards a tiny spiral staircase that could only hold people in a straight line. He felt his stomach lurch bitterly at being "just friends" with Ginny, "but I’m not going to explain my feelings to you. I don’t see the need to have to empty my heart out all of the time, just to have the people I love get punished for it. Every second that you’re with me, you’re in more danger."

"So you’ll bottle up your anger and become a danger to yourself?" said Ginny, running at his heels, making the tiny staircase creek worriedly. "Your friends love you, Harry, we love you! We know about the risk and we don’t care. We’d rather you told us than doing something stupid. The Wizarding World needs you more than us."

"But I need you!" said Harry. He immediately regretted what he said. Now he knew how he felt. Unless she thought that he went all of them, not just her.

She stopped.

This gave Harry ample chance to run away to the safety of the Boys’ Dormitory. He only hoped that Ginny didn’t know that girls could go up there.

***

"By the way, Ron," said Hermione two days later at dinner. "I signed you up to help set-up, as well as cooking."

"You WHAT!" said Ron, his face reddening, and the volume of his voice causing several Ravenclaw students to look over at him.

"Oh, Ron!" said Hermione. "It’s not like I signed you up to execute Harry. It’s a nice thing that I thought you’d like to do. And besides, if you hadn’t slept through my meeting then you wouldn’t have to do the cooking, as well. Why are you complaining so much about that anyway?"

"I…never mind," said Ron. "You’re so…infuriating."

He got up and stormed away.

"He’s so difficult," concluded Hermione, looking across from her to Harry and Ginny, as if for support. They both took exaggerated swigs of pumpkin juice.

Taking it as an agreement Hermione continued, "We have to meet at 7:00 tomorrow."

Ginny spat out her pumpkin juice.

"Hermione! It’s a weekend."

"You were the one who signed up for it," said Hermione. "It’s not my fault that you didn’t read your directions well enough."

She took a final spoonful of her chicken stew and walked away.

"Ugh!" said Ginny, "sometimes I just wish she’d…ugh I don’t know."

"Fail at something?" supplied Harry with a smile. This had been the first time she’d talked to him since their fight. He didn’t want to jinx the situation, so he decided that it would be good to continue the conversation.

"Mean as it sounds, yes," concluded Ginny. She looked a little disappointed, almost like she wished he’d say something more. "Well, I guess I’ll go up and finish my homework since I won’t have time to do it tomorrow, and since I have to be in bed in oh–" she looked at her watch "–two hours if I don’t want to be a troll tomorrow."

With that, she wished Harry good-bye and left the Hall.

***

An hour later as Harry was changing into his pajamas he was thinking. He was thinking about the picnic the next day, and he was nervous. He wasn’t usually this nervous, except before a Quidditch Match, and he thought it might have to do with a certain redhead.

"You’re thinking about my sister, aren’t you," said a voice. This wasn’t the redhead Harry was thinking about.

"Er–no," said Harry nervously, pulling on his pajama top. He didn’t want to be thinking about her, he just couldn’t help himself.

"Don’t lie, Harry," said Ron. "You get that same look whenever you’re sitting next to her, or at Quidditch practice with her."

"Er–"

"Just know, Harry," said Ron softly, almost dangerously soft as he walked up only a footstep away from Harry. "If you hurt my sister, I’ll kick your arse. Followed by every single one of my brothers."

Harry gulped.

"Except for Percy; I’m sure you could take him."

"Awww," said Dean, waling in and making an innocent face. "Seamus, do you think we should leave?"

"No, no, Dean," said Seamus, eager to listen. "It’s obvious that they’re not talking about us. They’re talking about Ginny."

"Oh," said Dean, waggling his eyebrows. "Does ickle-Harrykins have a cwush on Gin-Gin?"

"No."

"Why not, mate?" asked Seamus. "Quidditch playing is definitely doing her some good. Her body that is."

Ron’s face turned a spectacular shade of cranberry in a very short amount of time and tackled Seamus.

Soon a large pillow fight ensued, and the Gryffindor sixth-year boys’ dorm was awake until late in the evening.

***

The festivities of the night before showed on Harry when he went down to the Great Hall the next morning, accompanied by Ron, Dean, Seamus, Hermione, and Ginny. Ginny, too, looked tired, but hardly a troll.

After a quick breakfast with several members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, their assignments were passed out, and they headed out onto the grounds.

The sky was a lovely shade of pinkish-orange with puffy lavender clouds. They knew it would be a good day. The picnic tables and blankets were set up without much problem, but when they began to set up the outdoor stoves, Ron almost set himself on fire. No one really knew how. Within an hour they had set up several colorful pavilions and a number of activities including a horseshoe pit, a box of kites, several grass tracks for sack races and three-legged races, several picnic tables and outdoor lounge chairs, and the lake was open for swimming.

The temperature when students and staff arrived was well into the seventies, and students (encouraged to wear Muggle dress) wore shorts. The grounds were soon filled with activity; teachers, who looked like they were thoroughly enjoying themselves, were watching the activities with some student help.

Ron, under a large, white chef’s hat, looked quite unhappy.

"Oh, come off it, Ron," said Ginny, plaiting her hair into pigtails. "It’s not like cooking is this hard."

"You, shut it," said Ron, flipping hamburgers. He was looking daggers at Hermione, who was chatting at the horseshoe pit with Justin Finch-Fletchley. Hermione laughed and touched his arm.

Ron threw down his spatula and stormed over to Hermione.

"This I have to see," said Ginny jovially, getting up from her folding chair, Harry following close behind.

Ron’s face was close to the color of a beet when he reached Hermione and Justin. He grabbed Justin’s arm, in a bit of a death-grip, and said through clenched teeth: "Fancy a game?"

"Alright," said Justin cheerfully, breaking out of Ron’s grip easily (This increased Ron’s anger).

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and couldn’t help giggling. He was pushing all of Ron’s buttons and he didn’t even know it.

Ron, determined to show Justin his skills at Muggle sport, made a wide stance in the sand. Justin was up first. He pulled his arm back for the underhand throw, pushed, and released.

Ron shot off across the pit. Hermione’s eyes went wide, as if she knew what was happening. He went about a quarter of the way and held up his hands. The large, metallic horseshoe hit him right on top of his bright, red head. He crumpled onto the sand.

Ginny and Harry collapsed on top of the soft grass, leaning against eachother for support, and almost collapsing from lack of breath. Justin snorted before realizing the seriousness of the situation and running over to Ron. Hermione was there before everyone, and she had Ron’s head in her lap and was yelling for ice.

The poor boy didn’t black out, but he did get a large bump on his head; a war-wound as Harry had called it. Soon, Ron had returned to his post–after throwing out the burnt hamburgers he’d abandoned before–and was convinced not to try any Muggle game again.

"Oh, Ron," said Hermione, placing a bag of ice under his chef’s hat. "Just ask someone else to do the cooking if it’s such a big deal."

"No," insisted Ron, grabbing his spatula and going to work, "If I do that, you’ll drag me to go play with those kites or eat cheese futon, and I’ll end up hooking myself up to a kite and running off a hill, trying to fly; or I’ll drink the futon."

"Don’t you mean fondue?" asked Seamus, walking up and grabbing a hamburger.

"Futon, fondue, what’s the difference?" said Ron moodily.

"Quite a lot, actually," said Hermione.

"I don’t really care."

"Let’s change the subject," suggested Ginny. "Poor Luna, she’s over there trying to get a sack race partner. Oh look! I think she just asked Professor Snape!"

Ginny giggled.

"Now there’s someone I’d like to get into a sack with!" said Dean sarcastically, plopping onto a folding chair.

They were soon laughing and enjoying themselves, sharing stories of past picnics–or in the Weasleys’ case, sharing any family story that remotely resembled a picnic–while stuffing themselves with Ron’s–surprisingly–good cooking.

"…and so Mum goes downstairs the next day to make breakfast," said Ron, taking a swig of Butterbeer between laughs, "and she totally has kittens. ‘Get down here, boys. RIGHT NOW!’"–he imitated his mother’s voice quite poorly–"and she shouted and shouted about us eating all of her imported chocolate cauldrons and it was Ginny all along!"

"She really ate all of that?!" said Harry in a shocked tone.

"And?" said Ginny testily. Harry wondered why. She’d been getting more and more cold towards him. "What’s wrong with that?"

"Er–nothing…I mean…"

"Ha!" said Ron nervously. Everyone was shocked. Ron never spoke at the right time, but today he’d interjected right before things got tense. "That’s not the half of it. She also broke all of Dad’s good quills."

Ginny smirked. Harry was glad that she wasn’t too mad. "There’s more," she giggled, "I set your Puffskein free."

"Fluffy!" shouted Ron. He looked quite angry. "You told me that was Fred and George!"

"Well you three shouldn’t have decapitated my dolls."

The rest of the group was just watching and laughing.

"Attention!" a magnified voice called. They turned to see Professor McGonagall in a rather frumpy dress and sun hat with a large cone to her mouth. "The costume contest will begin momentarily, please make your way to the center pavilion."

The group took a few last bites of food and walked over to the center pavilion. It was very colorful, and had several trunks laid in the center.

Hermione and Justin went to the biggest trunk and Hermione shouted, "We’re going to call off several names, and you’ll have to reach into the trunks and pull out three things, one from each trunk, and put it on. Whoever looks like the most convincing Muggle will win a gift basket from Honeydukes."

After saying this, Hermione called ten names, including Ron (Who blushed so deeply, that he almost looked angry), and they all approached the trunks. They pulled out articles of clothing and went to a curtained room at the back of the pavilion to change.

Harry and Ginny didn’t notice the first person–a third year girl with a skirt around her torso, a sweatshirt tied around her waist, and ballet slippers–walked out, Ginny was trying to get Harry to enjoy himself.

"Oh come on, Harry"

"What? What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes. "At least attempt to have fun." She walked away. Girls, Harry thought moodily.

The second person walked out–a boy wearing a large t-shirt around his waist that read, "I’m with Stupid," and a pair of shorts on his arms–and several people laughed.

Hermione, who’d apparently seen Ginny leave, took her place next to Harry. "What’s up?"

"I dunno," said Harry honestly, laughing as Professor Flitwick walked out, completely covered by a large brown trench coat. "I wish Ginny would just tell me what was wrong with her, and not be so confusing."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, watching a first year walk out wearing a too-large kilt that looked more like a dress. "You’re a lot more like Ron than you give yourself credit for. Did you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are becoming more and more blind to girls."

"Oh." The fifth person was the least funny, but almost the most convincing. It was too bad that he had all of his clothes on inside out.

The sixth person walked out to tumultuous laughter. It was Ron.

He was dressed in a Muggle sundress with a large flowery hat and thigh-length boots. Hermione laughed. Harry joined her, and they were soon shaking with so much mirth that they were reminded of Luna Lovegood on the Hogwarts Express so long ago.

"I’d sure like to see Malfoy in that outfit, wouldn’t you?" said Harry and they kept laughing. It felt as though everything was great again, and Harry knew he had to do one more thing before he could be happy.

***

Needless to say, Ron won the costume contest. The rest of the Picnic went off very well, and it was soon dusk. The crowds cleared. The organizers were given permission to stay out passed curfew and go swimming. The lake was still warm, even as the sun dipped low.

Hermione and Ron were talking while they drifted across the lake on large inflatable sea monsters. Harry was lying on his back in the middle of the lake thinking. Suddenly he was pulled underwater. He resurfaced, sputtering, to see a familiar head of long red hair, and warm mahogany eyes. She was smiling.

He decided, then and there, that this was the place to admit his feelings. The sun was almost at the horizon, and he spoke. "Ginny I need to tell you something."

"Alright."

"I like you."

"And?"

"No," said Harry, feeling quite stupid and embarrassed. "I like you."

She stared at him like he had lobsters coming out of his ears. He pulled his hands up to his ears and checked. Nothing.

"Harry," said Ginny, looking deeply into his eyes. "I know."

Harry looked surprised, and slightly dismayed.

"Don’t take it personally, but I’ve sort of always known," explained Ginny. "You’ve been dodging me and closing yourself off from me, that’s usually something you do to someone you like. At least, that’s what odd people whose lives are in danger do to people that they like."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence where the entire world seemed to stop. Harry knew Ginny hated him. He started to swim away. She reached out and grabbed his leg.

"Harry."

"Hmm?"

"I like you."

He turned around and looked at her. Her eyes showed complete sincerity. Her freckled skin was become goose-bumped, and he knew it wasn’t because of the water. He put his hands on her face and pulled her close; they were inches apart when he stopped.

"Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me."

That was all of the confidence he needed. Their lips met, and the entire world seemed perfect. The fun they’d had all day was reflected in the passion of their kiss. As their kisses multiplied, so did the deep emotion behind them.

Meanwhile, Ron looked confused. "Have I slept through something else?"

"No, why?" said Hermione, smiling.

"Because Harry and Ginny are together now, of course!"

"What do you care?" yelled Harry.

"Yeah," said Ginny with a giggle, "at least you aren’t cooking!"

The End.