Disclaim-Her - Nope, not mine. All JK's.
A/N - Just ashort little fic I wrote. Not really happy with some parts, oh well. It's supposed to be funny, but I'm not sure if it is.
About Time
The famous Harry Potter, Voldemort beating, Patronus conjuring, rescue mission extraordinaire, was scared. Like, totally out of his mind, hide behind the bushes, and run the hell away scared.
Harry supposed that he should be ashamed of the fact the thing he was so frightened of was only about 5'4", 110 pounds with flaming red hair and a smattering of freckles, but once you had seen the damage this thing could do, you wouldn't be ashamed either.
Not five minutes ago, Harry had been searching for Ginny Weasley after finally gathering up the courage to ask her to the Halloween Ball. And not five minutes ago, Harry had found her using a particularly nasty Bat Bogey hex on a Ravenclaw sixth year who had gotten a bit too cocky when asking her to said ball.
After quickly abandoning his plans to talk to Ginny, Harry had turned around and raced to the Great Hall to meet Ron and Hermione for lunch. Still ashen faced and more than a little put out that his plan had been thwarted by a smarmy Ravenclaw who must have lied to the Sorting Hat in order to have been placed in a house known for intelligence, Harry sank down on the bench next to Ron.
"Hey mate, where've you been?" inquired a blissfully ignorant Ron as he dug into his shepherd's pie.
Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Harry like she knew exactly what was going on. In fact, Harry wouldn't have been surprised if she suddenly exclaimed,
"Honestly, Ronald, can't you see that Harry has just been trying to ask out your little sister but has utterly failed and is now scared out of his knickers by her?"
But, mercifully, she didn't, since Harry was pretty sure Hermione had more tact than that. He was also pretty sure that she had never said the word 'knickers' in public and was not inclined to do so anytime soon. Instead, Harry told Ron that he had left his book in Charms and had gone back to get it. There, a perfectly believable lie.
"Harry, we just came from Transfiguration. We don't have Charms until tomorrow" said Hermione.
Damn.
"Uh, erm…well, I left it in there last week, and just remembered it" countered Harry.
Smooth, Potter.
Except, Harry realized, it wasn't actually so smooth, as Hermione now looked extremely suspicious. Ron, at least, still looked oblivious.
Later that day, Harry sat in the common room, losing spectacularly to Ron in a game of wizard's chess. But, really, his mind was elsewhere. Due to the fact that he had had an entire History of Magic class to think about Ginny, Harry had arrived at the decision that if Avada Kedavra couldn't kill him, well, a Bat Bogey hex couldn't either. He might as well ask her. However, while his silent contemplation had given him newfound confidence, it has also earned him some rather nasty looks from a furiously note-taking Hermione.
And now, as Harry sat losing to the self-proclaimed King of the Chess Board, he came to the conclusion that he had no idea how to go about asking Ginny to the ball. Really, what did he know about being in a relationship? Certainly, that thing with Cho didn't qualify as one.
Suddenly, the Boy-Who-Was-On-A-Mission jumped up, chess game forgotten. He remembered the excellent advice Hermione had given him last year on girls, since she conveniently happened to be one herself. It was then that Harry remembered his friend was still slightly miffed at him for his apparent lack of interest in Goblin wars, and that she was no where to be seen anyway.
No matter, thought Harry. She'll forgive me. And if Hermione's not in the common room, than she's in the library. Really, would she be someplace else? Does she even know any other rooms in the castle?
Shaking his head and ignoring Ron's cries over the upset chess board, Harry raced to the library. At first, he didn't see Hermione. Could she actually have found another room? Then he recognized the frizzy brown blob barely visible over a mountain of at least ten books. Harry strode over, and after much heavy lifting, discovered Hermione's face mere inches from an indecently long essay.
"Hermione" he started.
"If you're here to borrow the History of Magic notes, you can forget it" Hermione told The-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Lazy-To-Pay-Attention.
"Um, no, actually, that's not it" said Harry. "I kind of needed to ask for your advice."
"Oh, really? Well, go on."
"You see, IkindofsortofreallylikeGinnybutdon'tknowhowtotellhersocanyouhelpme?" said Harry unintelligibly.
But Hermione, using the superpowers that being an insufferable know-it-all had bestowed upon her, deciphered Harry's covert message. Needless to say, she had been expecting this for a long time anyway.
Hermione regarded her friend. Harry Potter was a lot of things, but smooth with the ladies he was not. Unbidden, an image of Harry, dressed in an obnoxious silk shirt and garishly colored matching pants and too much hair gel to be allowed came to her mind. She watched as he sauntered up to an un-expecting Ginny Weasley and said in his most suave voice,
"Excuse me, miss. Are you from Tennessee? 'Because you're the only ten I see."
And as the image faded, Hermione did a very un-Hermione-ish thing and burst out laughing. She wondered why the real Harry in front of her looked so upset until she realized he must think she was laughing at his crush on Ginny.
Oops.
"Oh, no, Harry" she gasped between bursts of giggles. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm, well…"
But the truth was, she was laughing at Harry. Oh, dear. Okay, control yourself.
"Now, seriously Harry" said a newly calm Hermione. "You've known Ginny for how long? Just be yourself, walk up to her, and ask her to the ball. The worst she can say is no."
Harry wanted to tell her that that was not the worst she could say, and that the next time Hermione saw him he could very well have large bogeys with wings beating at his head, be he refrained. Obviously, Hermione did not realize exactly how intimidating girls could be.
So, Harry just nodded, and quickly retreated out of the library.
Not really looking where he was going, Harry was surprised, to say the least, when he blinked found himself on the floor after a hard collision with a red torpedo.
As it turned out, the red torpedo was not really a weapon of mass destruction, but was none other than Miss Ginny Weasley herself. Oh, great.
"Hey, Harry! I was just running from Filch. I think he saw me setting off some dung bombs on the fourth floor. If you'll excuse me…" explained Ginny in a rush, while peering over her shoulder for the dreaded caretaker.
Harry watched her continue to hurry down the hall. And then, like vomit, the words spewed out.
"Will you go to the ball with me?"
Ginny immediately stopped, her body rigid like a board. Harry immediately threw his hands up, ready to dodge any curses thrown his way.
"Really?" Ginny asked quietly, her back still to him.
"Uh, really" replied Harry, some of his nervousness replaced with hope.
And Ginny slowly turned around, a ridiculously large grin spreading across her face and making her eyes sparkle.
"Well, it's about time" she said.