Disclaimer: J'ai une reve. C'est tout. I have a dream. That's all...That and a french textbook I should be studying but, as you can see, am not.
"Do you think I should get your mom something for Mother's day?" Harry said, in a nervous rush.
"That's what you took me back here to ask?" Ginny said.
Not that she didn't immediately feel guilty since he clearly looked unsure and like he needed help with this, but come on, she'd been hoping for something…else. There was a time when him asking her for a private word and looking that nervous meant some sort of romantic surprise. Then he broke up with her and went off Voldemort vanquishing. And then he came back and hadn't given her a single sign one way or the other how he felt.
"Yes," he said.
"Well," she said. "I don't see why not."
"But…what if it's…I mean, I just got back a few weeks ago and I haven't seen her for a while, and now I'm just suddenly supposed to assume I'm like the seventh son she wasn't crazy enough to have?" he said.
"Well," she said, sighing with the air of someone about to be reasonable and mature against their will, "why don't we pick something out together? We can say it's from both of us and then you will sort-of be getting her something but you can hide behind her blood child so it doesn't look so weird…unless you literally hide behind me or something."
And at the time they both thought it sounded like a good plan. How very wrong they were.
"How about this?"
"It's all…pink and frilly."
"So?"
They were in Diagon Alley and they were running out of time.
"It's supposed to be half from me," he said.
"And?" she said.
"Can't we get something a little more…masculine?" he said.
"My mom likes girly stuff," she said. "I should know, I've had to suffer through it all. Do you think I want the credit for something pink and frilly? We can't think about ourselves."
"No, but should a gift represent something about your relationship with the person?" he asked.
"You mean shouldn't it be something you'll want to borrow?" she said. "I didn't think that would be a concern of yours, Harry, but far be it for me to judge…"
"That's not what I meant!" he said.
"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "If not this, then what do you suggest?"
"I dunno…soap?" he said.
"Because that's more masculine?" she said, eyebrow raised.
"It's not pink and frilly," he said.
"It can be," she said.
"Can not!" he said.
"Can so," she said.
"Soap is not frilly!" he said.
"You, Mr. Potter, have not been around many soaps," she said, then started to turn as if that closed the deal.
"Fine, let's get her a book or something," he said, not letting her off so easy.
"She's not Hermione," Ginny said irritably.
"So?" he said. "Hermione's the only person on the planet people are allowed to by books for?"
"Gifts are supposed to be personal," she said.
"That's what I said!" he said.
"No, you said gifts should have to do with you and the person," she said. "Which was wrong, and not what I'm saying. They shouldn't have anything to do with you, they're about the receiver one hundered percent, but they should be something that fits the person's personality and shows you know them."
"I thought they weren't supposed to have anything to do with you," he said.
"They're not," she said.
"But you just said—"
"Look, Harry, I'm going with the pink and frilly, get your own gift."
"What!?"
"You heard me."
"But…but…Ginny!"
He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. Her falling into his chest wasn't exactly part of his plan but nothing seemed to be today.
They looked at each other.
"We…we could just put our things together," Harry spluttered, trying to ignore their position. "It could still be a joint gift and not be one thing."
She stared at him.
"Put them together?" she repeated.
"Yeah," he said.
"Together?" she said again, slowly.
"Yeah…" he said.
She tilted her chin up towards him more and leaned in.
"Together?" she said softly.
He kissed her in response.
Later, when they came into the Burrow hand in hand, it was the best Mother's day present they could give.
AN: Oui, c'est mal. Je connais. Yes, it's bad. I know. I think it's the worst thing I've ever written. But I wrote it in ten minutes for a holiday that's already past during which I got a bout of inspiration but had zero time as always, and that's what counts. And it does count. For some reason I'll think of later. I'll update my other fic this weekend, I think. I hope. I'll try. Review and yell at me and guilt-trip me and bug me. Then things will get done. And review and say nice things too, if you feel like it.
