A/N: I have no idea who wrote the 'cut my life into pieces' song, but it's decidedly NOT mine. Neither is Harry, unfortunately.
Ginny Weasley woke up the same morning and discovered that she was emo. She immedietly began to cry.
"If I can't go out with Harry, I'm going to kill myself!" Hermione jumped out of bed and ran out of the room, crying as well. Ginny opened a drawer and pulled out the two tightest pairs of pants she had.
"One for me, and one for Harry," she snivvelled, and began to cram her legs into the shorter pair.
An hour and a half later, Ginny made her teary way down the stairs into the common room. She clutched the jeans tightly to herself and limped up the boy's staircase. Her feet hurt in the rough canvas Converse she wore. When she reached Harry's dorm, she froze.
"What if he doesn't love me?" she whimpered. A voice seemed to answer from within.
"I love you, I love you! Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort! Ginny, I love you!"
She opened the door. "Harry?"
Harry abandoned the razor and leaped up.
"Ginny! I'll die if I can't have you!"
"I brought you some tight pants, Harry. And I wondered if you could dye my hair..."
Harry siezed her by the shoulders. "Does that mean you'll go out with me?!?!" he squealed. She nodded. "Of course I'll dye your hair! So it matches the color of your tortured soul!"
They beamed at one another beneficiently until Harry realized that they were supposed to be emo.
"I guess I'll put these on..." he sighed, and Ginny produced some black eyeliner.
"You'd better wear this too."