Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
Apologies for the long delay, I won't bother with my usual excuses. A delay this long will never happen again, though; that, I can promise you. During this exceptionally long delay, I went over each of the previous chapters and edited them further, adding and subtracting as necessary. If you haven't read the story in a while, I'd recommend starting over. If you're too impatient for that, then at least read chapter 12 and 13 again. There is a good amount of new material in my story; I'm much more pleased with it now than I was a month ago. To quantify the difference, the first 13 chapters of my story added up to 77,783 words before, and after re-uploading each chapter the word count is 78,797, after deleting nearly 3,000 words worth of author's notes. In other news, I'm completely excited about this chapter. It weighs in at approximately 10,500 words, my longest chapter posted on this website! I spent forever working on it, and I think it's about the best that I can come up with.
I know I don't have any right, but I have a favor to ask of all of you: I want you to scroll down to the bottom of the page and click the 'Submit Review' button right now. Keep the window open, and just read my story as normal. If you read something that's funny or sad or odd or great, write it down in the review window. That way, you can keep a running score (so to speak). I think it will help me a lot more than the usual method, and since I write this story to hone my skills, I think it's only fair that I ask you, the reader, to help me hone them. nudge nudge
Without further ado:
Chapter XIV: Positive Rapport.
For Neville Longbottom, today had all the makings of another usual day. He woke at 7, as usual. He showered, brushed his teeth and dressed in his usual manner. He finished his Transfiguration homework just in the nick of time, as usual. Racing down the steps, he skipped over the trick step on the last staircase, and then made his way to the Great Hall and sat alone to eat his breakfast of cereal, orange juice and two sausages.
As usual.
How he hated the word.
Staring at his spoon, he examined his upside-down reflection in a rare flash of introspection. His round face was accentuated by the convex mirror in front of him. It was positively boring. Was there anything truly unusual about him, something that would stand out under close scrutiny? Was he destined to live this average, boring ... usual existence until he left for the next usual adventure? His Mum, who he visited every week at St. Mungo's, would give him empty bubblegum wrappers as presents. That seemed unusual. His parents were perhaps the only facet of his life that could be considered out of the ordinary, and he went to great lengths to ensure that nobody knew about them. He didn't want anyone to pity him for what his parents went through, to look at him with those eyes that told him their lives were more worth living.
More than anything, he wanted to be noticeable. He wanted someone to look at him and say, "There goes Neville Longbottom, the ..."
He shook his head, fighting back a melancholy smirk. The ... what? What did he want to be noticed for? The only class he excelled in was Herbology, and there wasn't much to talk about that wouldn't bore the bones out of most people. What could he possibly be noticed for?
"Excuse me, Mr. Longbottom." A quiet monotone interrupted his thoughts. His head whipped around towards the voice, and he found Harry Potter standing over him. The Boy who Lived, complete with trademarked lightning-bolt scar, was towering over him. Talking to him. His mouth was hanging open, so he shut it before he said something stupid.
"Erm... yeah?" He answered in a voice quavering from nerves. Oh that's just brilliant, Neville. Way to impress the Savior of the Wizarding World... "I mean, yeah, that's me. Hullo, Harry."
The green-eyed Gryffindor nodded. Unplanned introductions were always an awkward matter; protocol differed from person to person on what exactly should be said and what shouldn't. Still, he had promised himself that he would establish rapport with Neville. He was discreet and professional in the dealings that Harry had seen; he did not subscribe to the whispering gossip that pervaded the halls and he possessed a great amount of skill in the field of Herbology, which was not something he was familiar with. The potential, given a minimum continued social interaction, was obvious. Harry knew which plants were edible in the field, but magical plants were an unknown quantity to him. Since he was unable to take Herbology at Hogwarts, having Neville teach him the basics would be a suitable course of action. Perhaps that would help to build a positive relationship, but it is always best to start with the basics.
"My friends and I would like you to join us for breakfast." Harry said, motioning towards the other end of the table where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were located. They waved.
Neville took a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary to process the words Harry had said. "Did you just say you wanted me to eat with you and your friends?" He looked around at the conspicuously vacant area around him.
Harry nodded. "Affirmative. Is that an acceptable offer, or do you require some form of compensation?" He asked in his signature monotone.
Eyes wide at the thought, Neville shook his head vigorously. "No! I mean, it's sort of unexpected. Why me?"
"I find you to be discreet and professional in your interpersonal relations, and that is a trait I value highly. I believe you would be a welcome addition to my standard social network." The Boy who Lived answered, then added, "I also have several questions pertaining to the field of Herbology, which I'm told you are an expert in."
Neville practically leapt out of his seat, grinning ear to ear. "Look, Harry, I don't know what you just said, for the most part, but if you've got questions about Herbology then I'm more than happy to help you out!" Grabbing his plate, he eagerly followed the black-haired Gryffindor to the other end of the table.
"Harry, wait!" Ginny shouted over the din created by the usual breakfast exodus. Everyone was hurrying off to get to their respective classes before the bell rang, but a few well-placed elbows and more than a few rough shoves found her in front of the Boy who Lived. "Meet me at 6 tonight, okay? I have a surprise for you."
A rather pushy 4th year Hufflepuff shouldered by her as Harry replied, "Where would you like to meet?" He didn't like surprises most of the time, but if Ginny was involved than it couldn't be too bad, could it?
"Oh, wherever. I'm sure you'll have no problem finding me." She didn't know exactly where she'd be at that time, either in the Common Room, the Library or her Dormitory, but she really didn't mind him being up there anymore. He'd already seen her in her nightclothes, which were far more revealing than anything she'd worn in public. Maybe she was picking up his resistance to modesty. Merlin knew he'd been next to naked in front of her enough times to prove that he and modesty just didn't see eye to eye on a few things. Without waiting for a reply, she winked at him and disappeared towards the Entrance Hall for her Care of Magical Creatures class.
Harry, who was conspicuously not being shoved aside by pushy 4th years, mentally translated the time and nodded. His abdomen was contracting rapidly again. He really needed to get clarification from Sirius about what the contractions meant, because the last time he asked, all he got was a lecture on 'wands' and 'holsters'. He already knew about those, as Sirius was the one who bought him his wand, and he was even wearing a holster at the time! Sometimes his Godfather made no logical sense at all...
As Harry once more transformed his ottoman into an otter, he conversed with Hermione about a suitable object to present to Ginny, as a token of appreciation for her continued efforts. At first, the bushy-haired Gryffindor laughed at him. He failed to see the humor in the situation, the receiving of a medal was among the most serious of ceremonies.
Apparently, noncombatants didn't usually give medals, certificates or commendations. Hermione informed him, in more words than strictly necessary, that what he was looking for was a present. She defined it as a gift, one that would apparently convey his thanks without explicitly stating what it was for.
"That's very thoughtful of you, Harry. Let's talk to Ron and see what he says." She scribbled on a scrap of parchment, then crumpled it up into a ball and threw it at Ron. The projectile hit him in the face, eliciting a startled noise from him. Hermione grinned impishly, motioning for him to read the parchment. It was an interesting method of communication, one that could easily be intercepted by a malicious third party. Harry decided to teach her how to use a corporeal patronus to send short messages. The range was much longer, and it was not susceptible to outside interference.
Reading at the parchment quickly, Ron turned it over and scribbled back a short reply, then tossed it back to Hermione. She caught it deftly, flattened it out and read the short reply. Harry read it over her shoulder. Chocolate. The darker, the better. Keep your hands off my sister, mate. The Boy who Lived wondered how the giving of a present would require him to have his hands on Ginny. Was there some tacit custom that accompanied this noncombatant ritual?
"Oh, that's a great idea!" Hermione whispered excitedly. "We can go to Honeyduke's on the next Hogsmeade weekend and pick out a good assortment with you."
Harry reviewed his calendar, which stated that the next Hogsmeade weekend was still 12 days away. "Negative. Commendations have more impact when they are delivered in a timely fashion. I will go today."
Hermione eyed him critically, and then nodded. "I'm sure she'll appreciate that. Here's what you do..."
For the next half hour, Harry recorded advice from Hermione on what gift to purchase, the proper method and timing for delivery and an object identified as 'the note'. Apparently, it was the only written communiqué that came with the gift, and it was crucial to adequately convey your message in the fewest possible words.
The first 3 suggestions for the lettering on 'the note' were shot down without preamble. Accepting the fact that she was far more experience in these matters than he was, Harry allowed her to Hermione to draft 'the note' for him. She finally settled on a short, but meaningful phrase. It didn't give a specific example, which was something a medal or commendation required, but it did say approximately what he was giving her this present in response to.
After class, Harry went up to his dormitory and prepared to exfiltrate the school. There was a short window, only about 20 minutes, where he could be gone without arousing suspicion. He always sat with Ron, Hermione and Ginny for lunch, if he was more than 10 minutes late then they would know something was amiss. According to Hermione, a present's efficacy was directly proportional to the element of surprise accompanying its delivery. If she expected something, it would not mean nearly as much as something unexpected.
Donning his invisibility cloak and mounting his broom, Harry flew out of his dormitory window towards the local wizarding community of Hogsmeade and his target, Honeyduke's.
Circling around to the rear of the store, he dismounted and quickly removed his invisibility cloak, pocketing them in a practiced motion before entering the store. Heading straight for the chocolate section, he scanned the lowest shelf for his quarry. After several minutes of internal debate during Transfiguration earlier, Hermione finally recommended a medium-sized box of dark chocolate truffles. According to Ron, strawberry was her favorite fruit. There were only 2 boxes of dark chocolate truffles that had strawberry flavoring, one was quite small and the other was larger than her specified dimensions of 5"x12"x1.5". Measuring the larger box against his hand span, Harry estimated the larger box was 6"x14"x3", double stacked. Deciding that more was preferable to less, Harry purchased the larger box and had it wrapped. The store owner gave him an odd look after reading what Hermione decided to write on 'the note', but acquiesced without quarrel.
After placing a weak cooling charm on the box to keep the truffles from deforming before he could present it to Ginny, Harry exited the store and returned to Hogwarts the same way he came: fast and silent.
Depositing the package in his trunk and placing a powerful locking charm on it, Harry flew invisibly through the packed corridors and arrived at lunch only 4 minutes after the rest of his friends had arrived. The mission thus far was a complete success, now he just had to give them to Ginny as a surprise. Perhaps there was hope for him yet, if he could successfully perform this task that noncoms seemed so proficient at.
At 1750, Harry put aside his Potions homework and checked the tracking charm he had surreptitiously placed on Ginny's skirt. She had told him to find her at 1800; it made no sense to wander around the school without direction. According to the direction his wand was pointed, she was in her room.
Unlocking his trunk and retrieving the gift, he shrugged off his robes and appraised his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing khaki cargo trousers and a short-sleeved black collared shirt with his black boots. When presenting a medal, one adhered strictly to dress code. He hoped his attire was appropriate.
Stopping to freeze the warded staircase, Harry gripped his present tightly and made his way up to Ginny's dorm. His abdomen was palpitating rapidly, as expected. He still had no answers for this phenomenon, but at least it was becoming much more predictable. Knocking twice, Harry stood rigidly, the present hid behind his back, and waited.
One of Ginny's roommates, a blonde-haired girl that he had not been introduced to, opened the door a crack. "Harry? What are you doing up here?" She asked suspiciously.
"I have not been informed of the nature of this meeting. Where is Ginny?" Harry asked in his signature monotone.
The Boy who Lived, and his affection for her red-haired roommate, were gossiped about on a near-daily basis. Ginny still protested that there was nothing going on between them, but why else would Harry be knocking on their door at 6 o'clock, if it wasn't to take her out for some quality time in a broom closet? Ginny was so uptight about the whole situation, her roommate figured she could use a good snogging.
With a wide smile, the blonde-haired girl opened the door for him. Harry walked inside and looked around. Ginny was nowhere to be found. Odd. Perhaps his tracking charm had been circumvented. He heard muted singing coming from the bathroom.
"Ginny just jumped in the shower, Harry. She said to tell her if someone asked for her, but I think it'd be a much better surprise if you went in and joined her!" Her roommate, who was wearing a necklace that read, 'Katie', suggested in a conspiratorial tone.
Harry nodded. Katie, who had spent the last 4 years living with Ginny, had far more knowledge of what would constitute a surprise. And as Hermione told him in class, a present is more efficacious when it is unexpected. "Understood. I will defer to your experience in this matter." He informed her as he turned towards the bathroom, present in hand. Katie giggled loudly as he tried the handle, which was locked. He looked back at the blonde-haired witch for further instruction.
"Go for it, Harry!" She whispered eagerly, making pushing motions with her hands. Nodding once more, the Boy who Lived turned and touched the lock.
As Ginny belted out a soulful rendition of Celestina Warbeck's, "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me," she heard the door click open. She put her soap back on the tray and said, "Katie, what did I tell you about using the toilet when I'm in the shower? If I get hit with scalding hot water again, I'm going to hex you into next week!"
A distinctly male voice said, in a disturbingly familiar monotone, "Ginny, it is now 1800. Why am I meeting you in the bathroom?"
Ginny froze. Oh sweet merciful Merlin, that was NOT Harry Potter's voice, and it was most assuredly NOT coming from inside her own bathroom. She locked the door and everything!! She looked for something to cover herself with, but she had left her towel folded on the counter next to the sink...
The sliding door of the shower opened. "Ginny?" Harry asked inquisitively as he poked his head into the shower. His eyes looked over her curiously.
Her face contorted in frustration at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Nobody, in the history of man, has ever been this incredibly, irredeemably dense! Not really knowing what to do in this sort of situation, she covered herself and screamed. Loud.
Harry, caught off-guard by the high-pitched sonic barrage, backpedaled rapidly. He tripped over the pile of clothes near the door and fell backwards into the main room. His head hit the granite floor rather hard, causing his vision to blur. Pushing himself quickly off of the ground, he staggered a bit before catching his balance. What just happened?
Ginny slammed the bathroom door behind him and screamed again, Harry could practically feel the rage radiating from her through the door. He didn't know what he did wrong, but she sounded angry enough to warrant his removal from the situation. Perhaps a retreat was in order.
Katie looked up at him apologetically. "I really didn't think she'd take it that hard..." She muttered, more to herself. She looked down in surprise to see the package that Harry was holding thrust into her hands.
Harry spoke quickly, just in case Ginny decided to take out some of her aggression on him. He really didn't want to fight with her. "Please give this to her, along with a formal apology on my behalf. I do not know what I did wrong, but she seems very angry at the moment and I would not want her to become further agitated due to the residual effects of my presence in her dormitory at the present time. I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you." With a curt nod, Harry left the room as quickly as decorum afforded.
Katie looked down at the box, opened the card and read:
Your constant presence has been a great source of comfort to me through the last few weeks. Thank you for helping me to forget my problems.
Harry
Frowning in concentration, Katie deciphered the message. Bugger... I thought for sure that Gin would take that better... It's not every day a girl gets to share a shower with Harry Potter! With a shrug, she dropped the package on Ginny's bed and sat back down at her desk. After all, she had a 12-inch paper on the Goblin Rebellion of some-year-or-another due tomorrow.
The next day, Ginny felt much calmer about the whole situation. She hadn't seen him at breakfast, which she supposed was a good thing. Now she knew she wasn't going to scream this time; she was just going to hex him into little pieces before he could smooth-talk his way out of it! Although, the thought of Harry Potter (the absolute least romantic bloke she'd ever had the misfortune of being infatuated with) smooth-talking his way out of a wet paper bag was almost laughable. Or would have been laughable, had he not broken into her shower room and stared openly at her naked body. Any thoughts of laughing would be viciously stabbed to death in a darkened hallway.
Her blood pressure elevated dangerously as she narrowed her eyes maliciously. Oh yes, I'm going to kill the bastard.
"Ginny?" A familiar voice called out over the lunch hour noise.
She turned towards the sound and saw a head of messy black hair making its way through the crowd towards her. Speak of the devil. Quickly whipping her wand out of her pocket, she aimed at the crown of his head and shouted, "Stupefy!"
A bright red beam shot out of her wand, heading straight towards the Boy who Lived. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, ducking immediately as the beam shot over him and impacted an unlucky student behind him. The student flew backwards and crashed rather spectacularly into the wall of the corridor. He dodged a bright purple beam and moved behind a mass of people, trying to decide on a course of action. He really didn't want to fight her...
"Stop moving!" Ginny shouted, shoving her way through the mass of people at the green-eyed boy. She shot another stunner at him. It impacted high as well, thankfully missing the students behind the Boy who Lived.
With a frustrated wave of her wand, she banished the three people in between her and Harry. With a startled yelp, they were launched sideways to reveal the crouching Gryffindor. He looked up at her with wide eyes, his hands held up in a placating gesture as he straightened. "Ginny, I strongly urge you to cease your hostilities! Be reasonable!"
The youngest Weasley was in no mood to decipher his nonsensical phrases. He had to pay for his crimes! Her face contorted in rage as she jabbed at him with her wand again. "Don't you try to talk your way out of it; I don't want to hear it! Petrificus totalus!"
A blinding flash of light erupted from Harry's empty hand; causing several shouts of alarm. Ginny flinched and shielded her eyes, but as soon as the light started to fade she brought her wand back up. Confusion flitted across her freckled face as she bit back a curse. He was nowhere to be seen. She huffed in irritation, then pocketed her wand and stormed off to lunch. I should've known the dirty wanker would turn tail and run...
"I need your help, Ron." Harry asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the entrance to the library. It wouldn't do to cause a scene in here, and he wasn't entirely certain that Ginny would fall for the same trick twice.
"Harry Potter needs my help? That's new." Ron snorted, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his nearly-completed Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. "Let me guess: there's another Dark Lord gaining power, and you need my help to stop him? Or maybe you've happened upon a lost tomb that's heavily protected, and you need my lightning-fast spellwork to defeat the wards!" Sarcasm was rolling off of the youngest male Weasley in torrents, but Harry failed to find the humor in his words.
"Nothing that dire, I believe. Your sister is ... very agitated, and much of her anger seems to be directed at me. She attempted to target me with several curses that negatively impact my normal functions, without provocation. I am unsure what I did that would merit her rage, but I am equally unfamiliar with the standard process of reconciliation. How do I fix this problem?" His green eyes were inquisitive.
Ron stared hard at the Boy who Lived curiously. "Did you just say that my sister is mad at you? Did my sister try to hex you?!" His eyes went wide as dinner plates, he sat bolt upright in his chair. "Bloody hell, Harry, you must've really done something... If you're wondering how to make her stop being angry at you, I'd say just do what I do: avoid her for 3 days, then pretend like nothing happened!" The red-haired Gryffindor grinned widely at his own brilliance. "It works every time, mate!"
Harry frowned in thought. The advice went against all of his training in problem solving, as well as following no logical thought progression. But Ron was far more experienced in these matters than he was. "Understood. I will defer to your experience in this matter." Nodding curtly, Harry turned around and walked quietly out of the library. He would need his invisibility cloak to avoid being detected.
Usually when he had a problem that his training hadn't covered in detail, he would ask Sirius for advice. For some reason, he didn't want to bring this recent string of events to the attention of his Godfather unless absolutely necessary. Upon further reflection, he supposed he just wanted to prove he could handle this sort of situation without relying on the busy Auror.
He had a few ideas of his own that he was going to implement in order to find an expedient solution to this problem. It now appeared that he had 3 days to implement those ideas, and he wouldn't let a single minute go to waste.
Harry marched quickly up to his room, formulating plans to deal with this standoff. Her secession from his standard social network was completely unacceptable. Regardless of her combat ability, she had become a very influential and important figure in his life. He had to negotiate, and he'd accept nothing less than the total dissolution of her recent proclamations. He had been well-trained in closed discourse and negotiation, this shouldn't be a problem. One only had to decide on a proper course of action and follow it through to its logical conclusion.
Before even coming to the negotiating table, you must know approximately what the other party will demand and whether it is in your best interests to accept their demands in exchange for your own. He would have to gather a significant amount of intelligence on that topic before he could approach her with his terms.
For successful negotiations, it is paramount that you establish positive rapport with the other involved party. This greatly speeds the process, plus the added bonus of allowing you far greater sway in your negotiations. This was a problem, as positive rapport would be the entire sum of the negotiations. At the moment, it seemed like Ginny was more on the side of hating his guts, which did not bode well for any closed discourse between the two of them. He'd have to find a way to work past that somehow...
There were several ways to facilitate the expedient, positive settling of negotiations. He could use a show of force to discourage dissent, relying on brute tactics and intimidation to gain support for his terms. Shaking his head, Harry dismissed that course of action. It was not his intent to intimidate Ginny, or to show her that he was more powerful. She knew already that he was far superior in a combat situation, and frightening her would be detrimental to their future social interactions.
He could use material wealth and possessions to curry favor among the other party: expensive cigars and rare bottles of wine, fast cars, perhaps even gold if the situation required something more drastic. That method wouldn't do; he already knew that she was unlikely to be swayed by material recourses. She would almost certainly consider it an insult, which would further impede his progress. He decided to keep that option open, but only as a last resort. Perhaps she would accept a new broom? Hermione recommended flowers, specifically a type that she had a strong emotional connection to. Ron had suggested irises, since they were her favorite. Harry recorded their comments on a new black leather-bound notebook.
Accurate, usable intelligence would decide these negotiations. He had to find out her terms, her grievances and the chances of settling this dispute without compromising his own demands.
The truth of the matter was that he had no idea what a suitable course of action would be or what was required of him to re-establish positive rapport with the opposing party. He had no idea what grievances and concerns she would bring to the table, he wouldn't have time to prepare his counterarguments or research as thoroughly as he'd need to present a cogent and logical defense. She would have him at a significant disadvantage, and Harry Potter felt more than a little uneasy at the thought of it.
He needed to gather intelligence, and fast. Fortunately, he knew a thing or two about intelligence gathering.
"When I finally came out of the bathroom, he was gone. I honestly thought he had changed, that he was finally starting to act like a normal human being, and then he pulls this tripe! It made me so furious that I ended up ripping my favorite pillow to shreds! I can't quite get the hang of that repairing charm; so he effectively ruined the pillow that's been with me through my entire Hogwarts career. He'll pay for that, too!" Ginny punched her open palm for emphasis, cracking her knuckles as she entertained fantasies of beating the Boy who Lived with a brick.
After several seconds, she continued her story. "So of course, the next morning he meets me in the Common Room as if nothing happened! He's mad if he thinks I'll just let something like that go..." Ginny ranted on for several minutes in the same vein, receiving sympathetic pats and remarks from her dorm mates. Katie was suspiciously silent, but the youngest Weasley didn't seem to notice.
Harry wrote furiously in shorthand, recording Ginny's diatribe verbatim in his black leather-bound notebook. It was quite hard to write upside-down, especially considering he'd been that way for the better part of an hour, but he had to avoid suspicion. As such, he'd donned his invisibility suit. It was a rather tricky piece of kit to acquire, consisting of an invisibility cloak that is tailored specifically to be worn as an outfit. It was a one-piece jumpsuit with a hood, veil and glove attachments. The only parts of his body could be seen were the soles of his shoes, which wouldn't be visible unless he decided to kick someone. He usually reserved this outfit for long operations in hostile territories, but there had rarely been a territory that felt more hostile than in this dormitory.
It was exceedingly difficult to write on an invisible notebook with an invisible pen, but Harry had been trained extensively in all aspects of intelligence gathering. Use the suit to avoid magical detection, since disillusionment was an easy affect to dispel. Write manually to avoid wards that scrambled magical writing devices. They were common in courtrooms, to prevent unauthorized copies of the proceeds from being produced, and one could never tell when the charms on an invisible quill were wearing off. His arm, on the other hand, was quite easily controlled and would inform him in no uncertain terms when it was beginning to tire.
He had placed modified sticking charms on the soles of his shoes, which enabled him to walk on the ceiling. The Boy who Lived was literally suspended from the ceiling, upside down, looking up at the bed below him. It was far easier to avoid bumping into someone when you walked where others rarely bothered to look. The high arches at Hogwarts were quite difficult to navigate, but Harry managed it well enough.
None of this would have been necessary had his electronic bugging devices worked. Hogwarts had wards that specifically nullified muggle listening devices. If the school didn't, he could have just place a few custom electronic bugs on her, then listened to and recorded her conversations from the comfort of his own dormitory. But if it meant gathering useful intelligence, Harry was more than willing to tail her for a few days.
Katie interrupted Ginny's rant. "Gin, you make it sound like you just want to be friends with Harry! I mean, if you want anything more than friendship it's inevitable that he's going to see some skin, isn't it?" She grinned cheekily as her red-headed friend blushed crimson.
"Look! I'm not saying that I haven't thought about that, but you just don't understand! It's not so much the fact that he walked in on me, I guess... It's more ... how he walked in on me; like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it never crossed his mind that I might have locked the door for a reason!" Ginny bowed her head, mumbling the next part. Harry had to strain to hear her clearly.
"Maybe I'm reading too much into this, maybe I'm just being self-conscious, but I can't shake this feeling. I mean ... I always thought I'd have enough to get by in the looks department, but when Harry caught me with nothing but a blush on my cheeks ... I swear I felt like a bloke! Like he wasn't interested in anything he saw. Either he's gay, or I really don't have anything worth staring at."
She frowned, tears coming unbidden to her eyes as she forced a short chuckle. Scrubbing harshly at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, she muttered, "It's stupid. I don't know why I'm crying, honestly..."
Her roommates crowded around her, rubbing her back soothingly and promising painful, sticky revenge on the Boy who Lived. Harry's insides twisted painfully as he listened to Ginny sobbing. He'd heard people crying before, but it had never affected him like this. His resolve hardened as he vowed to do everything in his power to fix this problem with all possible haste.
Later that night, as Ginny shut off her light and crawled into bed, Harry made his way down the dormitory wall and onto the granite floor. He'd been up there for nearly 3 hours, quite a bit longer than usual. A side effect of remaining in an inverted state for prolonged periods of time was that one felt longer and taller than usual, along with a brief sense of vertigo as one's semicircular canal re-oriented itself with gravity. Harry was used to feeling vertigo, so much so that he could remain standing simply by sensing the angle of his feet on the floor and making minute corrections as his body leaned backwards or forwards. He had been well trained.
Ginny hadn't drawn the curtains, so the Boy who Lived spent the next half hour silently watching her sleep and making sure she wasn't just pretending in order to catch him spying on her. He was nothing if not cautious. Not to mention, it was surprisingly easy to watch her sleep.
After taking all reasonable precautions, Harry silently unlocked her desk drawer and retrieved the diary that she had written in shortly before retiring to bed for the night. In less than a minute he'd copied her entry for the evening into his invisible notebook in shorthand. Her diary would have insights not found in his observations thus far, and he vowed to study the material he'd gathered until a clear solution presented itself. He needed to know every little detail about this situation, because that one sentence or action could be the one thing that made him understand how to resolve this situation.
Quietly, he shut the book and replaced it exactly as it previously sat in her drawer, sliding it shut and locking it once more. Nodding grimly, he nullified the low-level proximity alarm on the door, exited the room and reset the alarm. Lost in thought, he made his way back to his dormitory to study his notes for the day. He was going to have a long day tomorrow, and it would only get longer if he didn't prepare for it tonight.
The first order of business was following through on the suggestion that Ron and Hermione had given him. Mounting his broom, Harry set out on his next mission: picking flowers.
The next morning, Ginny awoke to a strange sight. There, on the nightstand that she swore was empty last night when she went to sleep was a square vase with a single, silvery flower in it.
Sitting bolt upright in bed and clutching the pale blue sheets to her chest protectively, she scanned the room for messy black hair or piercing green eyes. She knew damn well who put that flower there, and she had no idea how he'd snuck into their dorm without setting off the proximity alarm she'd put on the door!
Finding no trace of the Boy who Lived, Ginny's eyes came to rest again on the flower. It was an iris, her favorite. She was borderline obsessive about the botanical masterpieces, actually. This one was an iris albicans, or white flag iris, judging from the color and size of the petals. It was an exceedingly rare flower, for this part of the world. They grew mostly in Northern Africa and the Middle East. If it was transfigured, it was the most realistic transfiguration she'd ever seen. The stem had been neatly severed at an angle, the smell was exactly right and there were even a few drops of dew left on the petals. It had to be real.
Despite her vow to hate him forever, she couldn't help but be impressed at the lengths he had gone to acquire that particular flower.
Still, a seed of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts. Why would he get me a flower? It's not like we're dating or anything... She shrugged and got out of bed, padding across the freezing cold floor to the bathroom. It was going to be a long day.
Ginny Weasley was officially pissed off.
Despite her best efforts to hunt him down, she had not seen Harry once the entire day. He wasn't at breakfast, he wasn't at lunch, and if he was in class then he never left them. She'd attempted to catch him outside his afternoon charms class, but he didn't walk out of the door.
Ron was being his usual, unhelpful self. "I don't know where he is, Gin, maybe he's avoiding you."
The thought of Harry purposely avoiding her, even though it was quite certainly her fault if it was true, cut Ginny straight to the core. She knew she was a bit of a tomboy, and her rough edges had the unfortunate side-effect of turning men away, but she really thought that Harry wouldn't mind. She thought he, of all people, would accept her boyish tendencies. She knew she was violent sometimes, and she knew she was prone to start hexing at the drop of a hat, but maybe that was just what the Boy who Lived needed in his life!
Forget it, Ginny. He's seen who you really are now, and if he has any sense in that thick head of his he'll stay away from you. Merlin knows you've already frightened a fair number of men away with that mean streak of yours. Her conscience was pushing all the right buttons and she felt the anger seep out of her. She exhaled slowly; she couldn't be mad at Harry when she knew that she might've just ruined any chance they had together. Damn her and her Weasley temper...
She clenched her fists uselessly as she trudged to the Library to finish her homework. It was awfully hard to write 10 inches on the properties of the Wolfsbane potion when all you could think about was a certain green-eyed boy who likely never wanted to speak to you again.
Bugger.
Harry was sorting his collected observations into stacks, but something was missing from his plan. In any situation involving diplomacy, it's always best to have an impartial 3rd party to advise you on any decisions, to make sure you are not acting rashly. He would need to find one today and seek counsel, to help him focus the direction of his impending negotiations with Ginny.
After careful deliberation, he decided that Neville would be the perfect 3rd party advisor. He intercepted him at lunch on the second day, inviting him on his afternoon run. Neville, while hesitant, eventually agreed to meet him at the Entrance Hall at 5pm. Whatever gets me as far away from 'usual' as possible, I'll do it! He thought, his muscles already tensing in anticipation.
20 minutes into the run, roughly one-third of the way around the lake, Harry stopped for a short breather. Neville, his running partner for the day, was red-faced and sucking down huge gasps of air. Regardless of how hard it was, he never fell behind. That impressed the Boy who Lived greatly, that determination to do what was asked of him. In fact, Harry had made quite a list of traits that he shared with the quiet Herbology genius.
Neville bent over at the waist and huffed short, quick breaths. Harry winced internally. He hadn't meant to run the boy quite so hard, and now he was going to...
As expected, the boy leaned to the side and puked on the side of the trail. It was a good thing he'd eaten first; otherwise he would have only brought up stomach acid. At least he had something to dilute the acid with. Harry remembered several of the countless times when he'd been pushed to vomiting in his training. It built character, his Godfather would tell him. Indeed, Sirius would puke right alongside him on occasion, then wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve, grin widely and start off again.
Straightening up, Neville wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and grinned up at the Boy who Lived. "Bloody brilliant. I haven't had anyone push me this hard since Gran signed me up for boxing classes!" With a determined smirk, he set off again on the trail. Harry stared after him, a small smile on his face. There were definite similarities between him and Neville.
After the run, in which no more vomiting occurred, they both stopped to catch their breath by the weeping willow on the shore of the lake. They stretched out their leg muscles as Harry finally described the problem he'd brought Neville out here to help solve.
"A friend of mine, a female, recently developed a very negative image of my person. I fear that there may be long-lasting repercussions to our rapport. As such, I am in dire need of an objective, 3rd party advisor who can examine the situation thoroughly with a fresh paradigm that is not tainted with previously held biases. I have come to deeply respect her company, and any assistance you could furnish in that regard would be appreciated. I would not wish to be parted from her presence, and I believe you are discreet and experienced enough to uncover a solution to this crisis." Harry finished his description of the problem and was met with a blank stare from Neville.
"Look, Harry. I don't speak whatever language it is you just spoke, but I think I understood a bit of it. This girl, you like her, yeah?" He asked politely.
The green-eyed Gryffindor nodded emphatically. "Yes. I have a great deal of respect for her."
"And you did something that made her angry. Now you want to fix it, right?" He mused, already thoughtful.
"Affirmative." Harry answered. "I do not know what offense I have committed, but I am willing to comply with all but the most severe demands with regards to this matter. I would not choose to be free of her company."
"Well that's easy, then." Neville said, breathing a sigh of relief. For a minute there, he thought it was going to be a hard question. "All you have to do is this: Talk to her, somewhere private, and ask her what you did. When she tells you, say you're sorry, and tell her that you don't want to lose her. That's all you need to do." Patting Harry on the back gingerly, he stood up and grinned widely again. "That was a wicked warm-up. What else do you do for a workout?"
Two days later, Ginny didn't even want to get out of bed. She just wanted to lie there fluffing her mysteriously repaired favorite pillow, eating the strawberry truffles that Harry had so very thoughtfully bought for her and staring at the irises in the square vase that magically appeared on her nightstand two nights ago. Another iris had appeared yesterday, and yet another today rounded out the set. She'd checked with McGonagall to be sure, and they were definitely real, which meant that they were definitely expensive and definitely not growing in Europe. She had no idea how Harry knew that irises were her favorite, and she had no idea where Harry had gotten them. They were absolutely gorgeous, and they did nothing to quell the insecurities she was feeling.
She hadn't seen Harry once since she tried to petrify him, not that she could blame him. It was doing remarkable things to her self-esteem, which had reached amazing new lows in the last 48 hours. She hadn't felt this bad about herself since Ernie MacMillan stood her up last year. At least that time, it wasn't her fault. This time, she'd scared him off all on her own. She'd managed to scare off the Savior of the Wizarding World. Maybe they'd give her an Order of Merlin, because something like that didn't happen every day.
It was bloody confusing. Harry was avoiding her as though she had a particularly virulent magical disease, but he took the time to gather these excessively rare and beautiful irises and put one in her vase each morning. It was almost nauseatingly sweet of him, and yet he was completely unreachable. What was he trying to say, and why couldn't he say it face to face?
"Why won't you talk to me, Harry? Am I not worth the effort any more?" She asked the irises, strangely annoyed that they didn't answer her straight away. Stupid bloody flowers...
Clutching at her pillow in frustration, she buried her face in the soft down-filled warmth and let out a muted scream. Three days without Harry and she was willing to do practically anything to have him back in her life.
Life was officially not fair.
Harry had nearly filled his invisible, leather-bound notebook with dialogue, diary entries and observations. He had been poring over his notes for the past 3 hours, and he was vexed. Some of the things she said directly contradicted statements made hours or even minutes prior. Other things ... they made no logical sense at all. Was it possible that she knew he had followed her? Could she have capitalized on that opportunity to spread misinformation that would hinder his ability to negotiate her successfully?
Harry frowned. After reading over his notes for the second time, this wasn't getting any clearer. She was easily the most difficult opponent he'd ever attempted to analyze. Still, Neville's words did seem practical. Perhaps honesty would work where subterfuge had failed thus far.
The next morning, she dejectedly poked her sausages with a three-pronged fork. Somehow, she just wasn't hungry. Never mind the fact that she loved breakfast, she didn't think she could eat with so many emotions swirling just under the surface. A shadow looming over her broke her out of her disconsolate reflections. She didn't want to look up; she'd already gotten her hopes up and didn't want them to crash back down to earth.
"I would like to engage in closed negotiations with you, Ginny. Will you come with me?" Ginny had never been happier to hear such utterly ridiculous words spoken in that signature monotone.
Biting her lip and holding her hands behind her back to keep from pouncing happily on the Boy who Lived before she had a chance to apologize, she nodded. She tried to act nonchalant about it, but she just knew it was failing spectacularly. She was positive that he could hear her heart pounding.
Harry wondered idly if Ginny was half as nervous as he was. He had no idea what was about to happen, that caused even his heartbeat to raise a few notches. If there was one thing he hated, it was being in situations that were completely outside his control. All he could do was attempt to reason with her, and hope to God that it was enough.
In what seemed like seconds to the Boy who Lived, they reached their destination: an empty classroom on the 3rd floor. Harry had been scouting it out, and knew for a fact that it was only used once every other day. Nobody would bother them here. After shutting the door behind them, he placed locking and silencing charms on the heavy oak and turned to face his opponent. This would prove to be a formidable match.
He reached behind his back and, seemingly from thin air, produced a bouquet of a dozen of the irises that he'd been leaving on her nightstand. Her heart leapt at the sight of them; she had to bit her lip again to keep from grinning madly. He still had a look of intense concentration about him, but she pointedly ignored it. At the very least, Harry Potter tried hard.
After shoving the flowers abruptly into her incredibly soft hands, he gathered his thoughts and said in a rehearsed, commanding voice, "I picked these for you, Ginny; I was told that they would assist in establishing positive rapport. I am diametrically opposed to your secession from my social network. I ask you to state your grievances and the terms of your unconditional capitulation."
She sighed, attempting to work through what he just said. He always reverted to this form of speech when he was nervous or feeling out of sorts. She sniffed the flowers she'd been given, which smelled lovely. After a few moments, she gave up and asked politely, "Would you mind saying that in English, Harry?"
The Boy who Lived was panicking. She had accepted his gift, but rather effectively parried his attempt at setting the pace of the negotiations, and now he was being forced to reword his carefully planned opening statement! What had gone wrong?! His ears were buzzing with all the blood rushing to his head. Think, Harry. Think!
He thought back to what Neville said to him, and in a snap decision he chose to go with that advice. In a voice that sounded far too fast and panicked, he said, "I want to know what offense I have committed! What problems have I caused, how can I fix them? I do not want to lose you. Please tell me what your problems are, so we can discuss what you would like in exchange for your friendship!"
The youngest Weasley didn't quite like the way that last sentence sounded, but at least she finally understood what he said... Vowing to explain at length some day that friendship was not something you exchanged, she smelled the irises again before answering, "Problems, you say... well for starters, normal people don't walk in on other people while they're showering."
"Why?" He asked in a quiet, perplexed voice. She didn't seem angry at his lack of experience in this field, nor did she capitalize on the weakness he showed earlier. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as he thought.
She nodded patiently, expecting this sort of reaction. Her inner monologue coached her. You should try to be a bit more understanding. He's just curious, after all. He was probably isolated from women growing up and simply didn't know how to react to seeing someone who didn't have their equipment dangling between their legs... "Well, it's a simple matter of modesty. Men might not care, but most women don't like to be stared at when they're naked." She offered a supportive smile, to let him know that she was trying her best to help him.
"Why would that be?" Harry wondered aloud. "I've showered with other women on numerous occasions. They never seemed overly concerned with their state of undress, nor with mine."
The smile slid off of Ginny's face as her blood turned to ice in her veins. Her empty fist balled up at her side. I'm going to kill him!
Immediately her conscience butted in. No, don't blow up at him! He'll disappear for another 3 days... speaking of which, you should probably find out about that. "Where have you been for the past 3 days? I hadn't seen you at all; you were starting to worry me." She chuckled nervously.
"I was avoiding you." He answered in his signature monotone. She covered her face with her free hand. Just breathe, Ginny. Don't attack him, not when you're so close to getting this whole matter behind you. Just stay on topic.
Right, back to the reason we're up here. "Well, the people you showered with aren't like most women. I, for one, didn't appreciate you looking at me like that." That was nice and gentle, way to go Ginny! She cheered herself on. I can do this!
"If it bothers you, I will never look at you again. That will prove to be difficult at first, but I have no objections to your terms thus far." He replied seriously.
She clenched her fists so tightly that they were shaking; her skin had turned white from the pressure around her knuckles. She was trying in vain to keep the frustration out of her voice and not crush the beautiful flowers in her hand. "No! I didn't say that. I mean, it's not like you can never look at me again, that's not what I want. You can look at me all you want, just not when I'm naked!"
Taking a few calming breaths, she tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and continued, "It's quite flattering when a woman can see that she is appreciated, just try not to stare. There is the small matter of you scaring the living daylights out of me when you broke into my bathroom. You could've been some creepy boy..." She shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"It's partially my fault, you know. I did tell you to find me at 1800, and I was in the shower at 1800. I should've remembered, but I also expected you to know better than to walk in on me when I'm in a state of undress. I'm still uncomfortable with the thought of being naked around people, especially you. That's all I want." She thought she'd done rather well, this time. There's no way he could misunderstand that!
"Right." Harry said, mentally replaying her demands. "Do not enter your bathroom in the future for any reason. Look at you, but do not stare at you 'like that'. Do not look at you when you are naked. Your terms are very lenient. I will comply fully. I sincerely hope my actions have not irreparably damaged our relationship." His piercing green eyes bored into hers; she could tell that he had thought long and hard about this. "Thank you, Ginny." Negotiations completed.
Ginny's heart fluttered quietly as he started to leave. "Harry, wait."
He turned around and stood rigidly. "Yes, Ginny?" he asked, purposefully looking over her rather than staring at her.
Her face felt like it was on fire. "You have to promise me that what I am about to ask will never leave this room."
"Even under the threat or application of intense physical pain to my being, I will kill myself before betraying your secret." He swore; his face hardened as he resolved to keep his promise.
Ginny blanched. "That wasn't what I expected, exactly, but it's nice to know that you're taking me seriously." She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "I'm not happy that you walked in on me, but ... what did you think?"
Harry stared blankly while he processed the question. "I do not understand the question. Please clarify. What did I think of what?"
A sharp spike of rage ran through her followed by a very deep, very serious silence. She took another deep breath, then another, and then tried again. "I can't believe I'm asking you this, but what did you think of my body? You know, without clothes on?"
No sooner had she said the words then her mind started screaming at her for her reckless behavior. There's no way he'd know better than to tell you the truth! She was already bracing herself for a short, depressingly monotonous answer. Every second he stared at her without answering was another horrid word he might say in that measured, apathetic voice of his. Each second was another twist of the knife he would inevitably stab her with. There was simply no way for her to get out of it: she had asked, and like it or not, she was going to get an answer.
Harry thought about it for a moment. This was exactly the type of question for which he had prepared no answer. What did she expect him to say? He knew what other men said about women, they usually said it to him when he was present, but it was always rather callous. If the woman was still within hearing distance, the comment was almost always followed by a physical or verbal attack by the woman. That sort of comment was probably not what Ginny wanted to hear. The honest truth had been remarkably effective thus far, perhaps that would work for this answer as well.
After another moment, the Boy who Lived said with a noticeable degree of uncertainty, "Your proportions are slender, but well within the normal range. Your upper body is not as strong as I think it should be, but your quadriceps and calves are very well-defined. You have noticeable striations in your abdomen, which most men find to be aesthetically pleasing..."
What the hell does that even mean?! Her inner monologue shouted, trying to get her to repeat it out loud. She didn't want to move, in case the movement released the tears that were already on the verge of overflowing.
The Boy who Lived was certainly no expert when it came to the fairer sex, but as he summarized his thoughts on Ginny's natural form he felt like something was wrong. She was looking up at him with an expression so fragile and vulnerable that it seemed she was about to shatter into a thousand pieces. He was no genius with words, but he had to do better than that, and fast.
"I - that is to say, to me ... you are very attractive, Ginny." He finished, hoping this was a sufficient explanation of his thoughts on the matter.
The youngest Weasley felt warmth building in her chest and radiating through the rest of her body. Without really thinking about it, she jumped up and wrapped both her arms around the black-haired boy. She was absolutely euphoric. He thought she was attractive, and that was definitely a step in the right direction!
Harry, spurred on by his recent success, attempted to quantify his thoughts further. "You are one of the most attractive women I've ever seen naked."
Ginny didn't know how her hands found their way to his throat, or where she'd been hiding all the strength in her grip, a grip that was steadily squeezing the life out of the Boy who Lived. As he gagged, frantically tapping her shoulder in an attempt to convey panic without actually harming her, she continued throttling him with all the power she could muster.
"Damn it, Harry! You ruin everything!!" She screamed, her fingers clenching tightly around the well-muscled neck of the object of her contention.
The next morning, things were winding down. The Gryffindor Commons rumor mill was in full swing, one group claiming that Harry had killed her and replaced her with a polyjuiced comrade. Another rumor had it on good authority that she had beaten him into unconsciousness and he was using glamour charms to cover the bruises, because he was the famous Harry Potter and couldn't afford to be seen getting beaten up by a woman. It didn't matter much to the Boy who Lived, who was currently sitting across from, and staring intently at, Ginny Weasley. She was trying to ignore him, but blushing furiously under his intense gaze.
"What are you doing, Harry?" She asks pointedly. Hadn't she just gone over this yesterday? He wasn't supposed to stare!
Harry answered distractedly, a sure sign that he was processing a great deal of information. "I am examining you. I know that you fit the definition of attractive, but I don't know how. Therefore, I am attempting to quantify your physical attributes and use them as a reference for attraction. Hopefully, I will have a more suitable answer next time you ask me what I think of your body."
"Shh!" She whispered fiercely, looking around to see who heard him say that. The Common Room was quite full, there was a short, brown-haired boy sitting two cushions over from Harry, in fact, but she was surprised to see that nobody seemed to have heard him.
"The area is secure. I put a silencing ward over us so that we could discuss the matter without being overheard by an outside party. I will know if someone is eavesdropping." Harry stated, perceiving correctly the reason for her stress.
Ginny blinked in surprise. Now that she thought about it... she was strangely okay with being examined by him, as long as he was being honest about it. Nodding, she said, "Examine away, then." With a small smirk, she pushed her chest out a little bit more. Not that she was pushing her chest out before, because she wasn't, and she could lie to herself any time she damn well pleased.
As he continued to stare at her face, she smiled inwardly. You're definitely learning, Harry Potter.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it certainly took me long enough to get it right! If you have any comments at all, no matter how trivial or unimportant they may seem to you, please tell me. I appreciate any and all comments, from, "I like this sentence" to, "Ginny is amazing" to, "Harry for Prime Minister!" Seriously, anything you can think of. Everything you can think of.
Click that little review button down there, yes you there, reading this sentence right now. Thank you for not giving up on my story, even though I take forever and a day to update at times. I'll write faster, and I won't quit until this story is finished!
Ben