Disclaimer: All belongs to the omnipotent J. K. Rowling. (And
Shakespeare where appropriate.) May JKR write quickly so that HP6 will
come soon!
Chapter One: Beginnings and Plots
It was truly a wonderful summer day. One could not ask for a more beautiful day if one tried. The sky was a brilliant blue that contrasted with lazily drifting wisps of white cloud. The leaves of the trees and bushes were all a luscious green, as was the soft grass. The light breeze was just enough to keep the warm heat of the sun from becoming bothersome. Birds sang their hearts out and the trees rustled quietly to each other. Every so often the sound of a cow lowing or a dog barking drifted through the sunny, walled garden and into the small, yet cosy kitchen of Molly Weasley.
Somewhere in the house, however, a storm raged. Muffled shouts and yells sounded through the house as a pitched battle took place. One of the house's occupants had apparently had enough. A rather tall, thin teenage boy dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt descended the winding stair. He had thick black hair that stood out everywhere as if he'd just walked through a wind tunnel, bright green eyes behind round glasses and a scar in the shape of a lighting bolt etched on the left side of his forehead. The boy's name was Harry Potter.
Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and walked through the kitchen and out into the garden, shaking his head ruefully.
"Did they drive you out as well?" Harry looked around, confused; he hadn't seen anybody when he had come out, "Up here," came the voice again.
Harry looked straight up into the boughs of the large oak tree. Ginny Weasley was perched on one of the wider branches. While she had grown quite a bit over the past year she was still a bit petite. Her bright red hair would have hung past her shoulders but it was caught up in a ponytail. Her eyes were dark brown and her face was sprinkled with freckles. She was dressed in cut off jeans and a light grey T-shirt saying "The Weird Sisters." She laughed and waved at Harry.
"How'd you get up there?" Harry called.
"I climbed," She shrugged, "I've done it since I could walk. Come on, it's easy," she gestured to the trunk of the tree. Harry looked and saw that indeed all the lower branches were sturdy and evenly placed- a perfect tree for climbing. He reached for the lowest branch and in less than a minute clambered onto the bough that Ginny was seated on. She moved over to give him room. He straddled the branch, leaning against the trunk behind him but she sat sideways, letting her legs dangle in the air below her.
"Your mum would kill you if she saw you sitting like that," Harry laughed.
"Oh she's tried to make us stop climbing this tree before but I think she's given up," Ginny grinned, "the only one who wouldn't was Per-"she stopped short. Percy, though he had sent a very formal letter of apology, was still not associating with the family, "Anyway, do you have any idea what they're on about this time?"
"No clue," Harry sighed, "I don't think they really know actually," he shook his head, "But after the first three insults or so I stop paying attention."
"Same here," Ginny laughed then turned to look at the house thoughtfully. Ron could be heard yelling but his words were indiscernible, "You know, I think the only people who don't realize it are Ron and Hermione."
"Realize what?"
"That they fancy each other," Ginny responded, still looking at the house and sighed again, "Hermione's too scared and Ron...well..."
"Is Ron," Harry finished for her and they both laughed, "Yeah, it's pretty sad," he agreed, "But what are you going to do?"
"Hmm," Ginny nodded. But a moment later her face cracked into an evil grin identical to her twin older brothers', "Harry..."
"Yes?" Harry answered cautiously. He had had much experience with that sort of evil grin.
"Maybe...we can do something for them."
"What are you planning, Ginny?" he narrowed his eyes.
Ginny flipped one leg over the branch so that she sat astride the tree, facing Harry, "Only this- since Ron and Hermione are having a bit of trouble realizing that they fancy each other on their own...maybe we should help them a bit."
Harry smiled but the smile grew into a grin which grew into a quiet chuckle which grew to a loud chuckle which grew into a low laugh which grew into a loud laugh and soon he was laughing so hard he cried. When he finally stopped he wiped away tears of mirth, straightened and looked back at Ginny. She was watching him with a pitying, almost disdainful expression, "You're not serious about this, are you?" he asked.
"Do I look like it?" she arched one eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Then I am."
"You honestly think we could do it?" Harry glanced from the house (Where Hermione had just screamed something not too nice at Ron) to Ginny, a small smile creeping into his face.
Ginny grinned, "'If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me and I will tell you my drift.'"
"What?" Harry stared at her.
"Shakespeare," Ginny shrugged, "In one of his plays these people try to get two of their friends who hate each other to fall in love. But we have it easier, our Beatrice and Benedick (that's the two people who hate each other) already love each other, we just have to get them to admit it."
"And what was that about a drift at the end?"
"It means, come here and I'll tell you what I've got in mind," Ginny translated, "Honestly, read more Shakespeare, Harry."
"Well what have you got in mind?"
"I don't exactly know yet," Ginny bit her thumbnail. Harry pulled her hand away from her mouth. Ginny glared at him.
"Don't bite," Harry admonished, "And don't look at me like that. I've lived here long enough to know that anyone can do that if they see you, your Mum told me to if I ever saw you biting."
"Thanks, Mum," Ginny muttered at the house, "Anyway you come up with an idea, I thought up the whole mission."
"Well...we could always lock them in a room, bar the window and cut a flap in the door for food like the Dursleys did to me when I was twelve. And then just let them at each other," Harry suggested.
"One of four things would happen," Ginny said sardonically, "They'd kill each other, they'd kill themselves, they'd go crazy or they'd end up snogging each other senseless."
"Put some thought into this, have you?" Harry snorted.
"A bit," Ginny responded off-handedly, "But I think we're going to need help for this."
"What kind of help?"
"Well," Ginny glanced to the left and right and leaned forward, lowering her voice as though about to divulge a life-changing secret to Harry, "we're playing a bit of a prank on Hermione and Ron, aren't we?"
"I suppose," Harry shrugged, lowering his voice and leaning in too.
"Well then who better to help us than the original pranksters themselves?" Ginny grinned.
"The twins?" Harry whispered.
"Yup," Ginny nodded, "As you know, they're coming for a week long visit tomorrow. I propose we send them an owl tonight. If anyone can help us it's them."
"And they'll help?"
Ginny laughed, "Of course. They've known about Ron and Hermione for ages. Besides this is Gred and Forge we're talking about...of course they'll do it. But in the meantime let's try just getting an idea of how much work is in front of us. You talk to Ron and see what he'll admit to and what he won't, how he reacts to certain ideas, that sort of thing. Maybe he's not as thick as he seems and he's just playing stupid. I'll do the same for Hermione."
"Right," Harry nodded.
"Alright, Harry," Ginny sighed, and sat up straight, "This is it."
"This is what?" Harry sat up as well.
"This is the cliff over the abyss, the Point of No Return," Ginny replied, "Once we start this we can't stop it half-way. We do this or we don't- no almost doing it. We succeed or we fail. Do you swear, Harry Potter, to see this through, to the end with me, succeed or fail?" she held up her left hand.
Harry raised his eyebrows but Ginny's expression was as serious as stone. He heaved a sigh and smacked his left palm into hers and they gripped each other's hands tightly, "I swear, Ginny Weasley, to see this through, to the end with you, succeed or fail."
They held each other's hands a moment longer, eyes locked, before they let go, "Has anyone ever told you," Harry shook his head, "That you have a flair for the dramatics?"
"No," Ginny shook her head, "Come on, let's pull them apart before they kill each other," and she began to climb down.
Harry cast his eyes heavenward for a moment as if asking why, then followed Ginny back to earth, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Just over the tall hill dividing the Weasley property and the next door neighbor's a girl stood looking up at the small cottage that was to be her new home. She was rather short (people often thought she was fifteen instead of seventeen) and thin. Her thick raven hair hung in a braid straight to her waist and her ice blue eyes took in everything about the property at once, from the cottage, to the barn behind it to the fenced paddock to the right and beyond it the countryside. She wore a plain dark blue shirt that hung loosely on her small frame and faded jeans with very beaten up trainers. A thin white scar ran from the middle of her forehead to her right temple, following her hairline.
A shrill cry from inside the house made her sigh and reluctantly walk through the front door. She just hoped this house would be better than the rest though there was not much reason for her to hope that. But the girl had a very good gut instinct and right now it was telling her that moving here would prove to be a very, very good thing.
Chapter One: Beginnings and Plots
It was truly a wonderful summer day. One could not ask for a more beautiful day if one tried. The sky was a brilliant blue that contrasted with lazily drifting wisps of white cloud. The leaves of the trees and bushes were all a luscious green, as was the soft grass. The light breeze was just enough to keep the warm heat of the sun from becoming bothersome. Birds sang their hearts out and the trees rustled quietly to each other. Every so often the sound of a cow lowing or a dog barking drifted through the sunny, walled garden and into the small, yet cosy kitchen of Molly Weasley.
Somewhere in the house, however, a storm raged. Muffled shouts and yells sounded through the house as a pitched battle took place. One of the house's occupants had apparently had enough. A rather tall, thin teenage boy dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt descended the winding stair. He had thick black hair that stood out everywhere as if he'd just walked through a wind tunnel, bright green eyes behind round glasses and a scar in the shape of a lighting bolt etched on the left side of his forehead. The boy's name was Harry Potter.
Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and walked through the kitchen and out into the garden, shaking his head ruefully.
"Did they drive you out as well?" Harry looked around, confused; he hadn't seen anybody when he had come out, "Up here," came the voice again.
Harry looked straight up into the boughs of the large oak tree. Ginny Weasley was perched on one of the wider branches. While she had grown quite a bit over the past year she was still a bit petite. Her bright red hair would have hung past her shoulders but it was caught up in a ponytail. Her eyes were dark brown and her face was sprinkled with freckles. She was dressed in cut off jeans and a light grey T-shirt saying "The Weird Sisters." She laughed and waved at Harry.
"How'd you get up there?" Harry called.
"I climbed," She shrugged, "I've done it since I could walk. Come on, it's easy," she gestured to the trunk of the tree. Harry looked and saw that indeed all the lower branches were sturdy and evenly placed- a perfect tree for climbing. He reached for the lowest branch and in less than a minute clambered onto the bough that Ginny was seated on. She moved over to give him room. He straddled the branch, leaning against the trunk behind him but she sat sideways, letting her legs dangle in the air below her.
"Your mum would kill you if she saw you sitting like that," Harry laughed.
"Oh she's tried to make us stop climbing this tree before but I think she's given up," Ginny grinned, "the only one who wouldn't was Per-"she stopped short. Percy, though he had sent a very formal letter of apology, was still not associating with the family, "Anyway, do you have any idea what they're on about this time?"
"No clue," Harry sighed, "I don't think they really know actually," he shook his head, "But after the first three insults or so I stop paying attention."
"Same here," Ginny laughed then turned to look at the house thoughtfully. Ron could be heard yelling but his words were indiscernible, "You know, I think the only people who don't realize it are Ron and Hermione."
"Realize what?"
"That they fancy each other," Ginny responded, still looking at the house and sighed again, "Hermione's too scared and Ron...well..."
"Is Ron," Harry finished for her and they both laughed, "Yeah, it's pretty sad," he agreed, "But what are you going to do?"
"Hmm," Ginny nodded. But a moment later her face cracked into an evil grin identical to her twin older brothers', "Harry..."
"Yes?" Harry answered cautiously. He had had much experience with that sort of evil grin.
"Maybe...we can do something for them."
"What are you planning, Ginny?" he narrowed his eyes.
Ginny flipped one leg over the branch so that she sat astride the tree, facing Harry, "Only this- since Ron and Hermione are having a bit of trouble realizing that they fancy each other on their own...maybe we should help them a bit."
Harry smiled but the smile grew into a grin which grew into a quiet chuckle which grew to a loud chuckle which grew into a low laugh which grew into a loud laugh and soon he was laughing so hard he cried. When he finally stopped he wiped away tears of mirth, straightened and looked back at Ginny. She was watching him with a pitying, almost disdainful expression, "You're not serious about this, are you?" he asked.
"Do I look like it?" she arched one eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Then I am."
"You honestly think we could do it?" Harry glanced from the house (Where Hermione had just screamed something not too nice at Ron) to Ginny, a small smile creeping into his face.
Ginny grinned, "'If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me and I will tell you my drift.'"
"What?" Harry stared at her.
"Shakespeare," Ginny shrugged, "In one of his plays these people try to get two of their friends who hate each other to fall in love. But we have it easier, our Beatrice and Benedick (that's the two people who hate each other) already love each other, we just have to get them to admit it."
"And what was that about a drift at the end?"
"It means, come here and I'll tell you what I've got in mind," Ginny translated, "Honestly, read more Shakespeare, Harry."
"Well what have you got in mind?"
"I don't exactly know yet," Ginny bit her thumbnail. Harry pulled her hand away from her mouth. Ginny glared at him.
"Don't bite," Harry admonished, "And don't look at me like that. I've lived here long enough to know that anyone can do that if they see you, your Mum told me to if I ever saw you biting."
"Thanks, Mum," Ginny muttered at the house, "Anyway you come up with an idea, I thought up the whole mission."
"Well...we could always lock them in a room, bar the window and cut a flap in the door for food like the Dursleys did to me when I was twelve. And then just let them at each other," Harry suggested.
"One of four things would happen," Ginny said sardonically, "They'd kill each other, they'd kill themselves, they'd go crazy or they'd end up snogging each other senseless."
"Put some thought into this, have you?" Harry snorted.
"A bit," Ginny responded off-handedly, "But I think we're going to need help for this."
"What kind of help?"
"Well," Ginny glanced to the left and right and leaned forward, lowering her voice as though about to divulge a life-changing secret to Harry, "we're playing a bit of a prank on Hermione and Ron, aren't we?"
"I suppose," Harry shrugged, lowering his voice and leaning in too.
"Well then who better to help us than the original pranksters themselves?" Ginny grinned.
"The twins?" Harry whispered.
"Yup," Ginny nodded, "As you know, they're coming for a week long visit tomorrow. I propose we send them an owl tonight. If anyone can help us it's them."
"And they'll help?"
Ginny laughed, "Of course. They've known about Ron and Hermione for ages. Besides this is Gred and Forge we're talking about...of course they'll do it. But in the meantime let's try just getting an idea of how much work is in front of us. You talk to Ron and see what he'll admit to and what he won't, how he reacts to certain ideas, that sort of thing. Maybe he's not as thick as he seems and he's just playing stupid. I'll do the same for Hermione."
"Right," Harry nodded.
"Alright, Harry," Ginny sighed, and sat up straight, "This is it."
"This is what?" Harry sat up as well.
"This is the cliff over the abyss, the Point of No Return," Ginny replied, "Once we start this we can't stop it half-way. We do this or we don't- no almost doing it. We succeed or we fail. Do you swear, Harry Potter, to see this through, to the end with me, succeed or fail?" she held up her left hand.
Harry raised his eyebrows but Ginny's expression was as serious as stone. He heaved a sigh and smacked his left palm into hers and they gripped each other's hands tightly, "I swear, Ginny Weasley, to see this through, to the end with you, succeed or fail."
They held each other's hands a moment longer, eyes locked, before they let go, "Has anyone ever told you," Harry shook his head, "That you have a flair for the dramatics?"
"No," Ginny shook her head, "Come on, let's pull them apart before they kill each other," and she began to climb down.
Harry cast his eyes heavenward for a moment as if asking why, then followed Ginny back to earth, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Just over the tall hill dividing the Weasley property and the next door neighbor's a girl stood looking up at the small cottage that was to be her new home. She was rather short (people often thought she was fifteen instead of seventeen) and thin. Her thick raven hair hung in a braid straight to her waist and her ice blue eyes took in everything about the property at once, from the cottage, to the barn behind it to the fenced paddock to the right and beyond it the countryside. She wore a plain dark blue shirt that hung loosely on her small frame and faded jeans with very beaten up trainers. A thin white scar ran from the middle of her forehead to her right temple, following her hairline.
A shrill cry from inside the house made her sigh and reluctantly walk through the front door. She just hoped this house would be better than the rest though there was not much reason for her to hope that. But the girl had a very good gut instinct and right now it was telling her that moving here would prove to be a very, very good thing.