Sorry for the long wait! I always need free time from my homework and a good idea to write, so it's hard for me to find time. Thanks for all the reading and reviews!
Harry joined Ginny in the Hospital Wing shortly afterwards, before Madam Pomfrey decided it was time to close the wards for the night. Although Ginny's wounds were not permanent, she had a couple broken ribs, and her deep scars were still healing, rather painfully.
"Hi, Harry," Ginny greeted Harry warily, as if she was embarrassed to see him.
"Hullo," said Harry, in a much more cheerful, warm, and enthusiastic voice.
"I can't believe how horrible I did," said Ginny, sadly looking at her hands and not at Harry's face.
Harry, deeply shocked, replied, "Ginny, you weren't that bad! Just because you were the only one brave enough to go and face the Chimaeras yourself…"
Ginny gave him a sad little smile. "Sure, Harry. Yet, I'm seventeen! You were fourteen when you competed in the Tournament, and you tied for first! You were superb!"
"But only because Voldemort wanted me, and his Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr. lead me into the trap, he helped me. Helped me figure out that I needed to Summon the broom, and he had to stage a talk with McGonagall about gillyweed so that Dobby would hear, and he made the Cup a Portkey that killed Cedric…"
"The Portkey didn't kill Cedric," said Ginny lightly.
Harry shot her a look. "You know what I meant, Gin."
Ginny gave a sort of wan smile, and looked up at Harry for the first time, murmuring, "I know." Harry didn't reply but turned away, blinking furiously. "Well," said Ginny, trying for a humorous tone, "I suppose it could've been worse."
"Could've been worse," Harry agreed. "I hope you win, Ginny."
She grinned at him; something he was unable to bear. Why wasn't he the one making her feel better with his brilliant smiles? Why did it always seem that everyone was cheering him up? Why didn't he ever have to power to make anyone else feel better?
Furious with himself for acting like this, furious that Ginny was in this competition that had haunted him for years; furious as he was, it brought tears to his eyes, and he had to turn away.
"Harry?" asked Ginny tentatively, unsurely. Apparently she did not know how to begin; she did not know what was bothering Harry, and he did not know if he wanted to tell her. "Are… are you okay?"
Suddenly, he was thinking about his fifth year at Hogwarts, when Mrs. Weasley had sent him an Easter egg, that had already been searched by Umbridge… And he remembered why he had felt so awful… And that brought him back to Sirius, and that made him feel worse…
"Harry, you know, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it," said Ginny slowly, but more confidently.
"I don't want to talk about it," growled Harry lowly.
He could feel Ginny lie down, as if sensing defeat, and he turned to her, and told her rather gruffly, "I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," said Ginny, sounding sort of sad, "See you."
As Harry made his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room, he couldn't help but feel unsure. Had he been to rough with Ginny? He had a feeling he might've been. It wasn't her fault that Sirius had died. It wasn't her fault that anyone had died. She didn't deserve to get the blame on her, did she…?
Hermione and Ron were waiting by the fire, and apparently in a very deep snog. Harry, his cheeks red and a feeling of high embarrassment, cleared his throat loudly, and Ron and Hermione jumped apart as if the other had just been covered in Stinksap.
Harry sniggered. "Oh, real swift…" Ron threw a pillow at him, very red in the ears and purposely avoiding Hermione's eyes.
"So, um," said Hermione, suddenly turning a brilliant red, "how… erm… how is Ginny?"
Rather upset by the change of subject, Harry muttered, "Fine," unbelievably, and walked and sat down on the squishy armchair by the fire. He could feel Ron and Hermione exchanging glances behind his back and chose to ignore them, and continued looking into the fire's embers. "You know," said Harry softly, "sometimes I think Sirius's head is just going to appear in the fire."
He could feel them exchange another glance; a more worried one then the last. "Um… Harry," said Hermione, sounding confused, "Sirius is… dead."
"I know," said Harry gruffly, "I just wish he wasn't."
Hermione came and perched on the arm of Harry's chair, and then she patted his shoulder. "We know."
It was a rather awkward silence; no words were exchanged, for no one knew what to say to comfort the other, for it was all confused and muddled.
"Well," said Harry, "I'm going to bed…" To leave you two to snog, he thought in his head, but he didn't say it out loud. He didn't want them turning against him, when he felt so alone already.
Ginny was let out of the hospital wing at nine the next morning, looking rather worried, which Harry didn't fail to notice. As she sat down next to Harry, he was tempted to swing his arm around her shoulders, but did not, even though she put his hand comfortingly on his knee.
"McGonagall stopped me as I was coming back," said Ginny, and Ron and Hermione looked up (from each others' eyes). "Apparently, the Headmasters of each school got clues, and they were supposed to give them to us. It's confusing me, look…"
Harry peeked over the top of her head and read the clue, which was in fancy golden lettering on a blue piece of parchment.
The things you may be standing on,
Are all of equal sides,
These may be found in the kitchen
Lying underneath your foot.
If you happen to touch it,
You'll be shipped away
And you'll have to fight
What will scare you most in the end.
"It doesn't make any bloody sense," complained Ginny, handing the tiny piece of paper over to Hermione and Ron. Hermione squinted her eyes and read it quickly many times, and Ron glanced over her shoulder, read it once, and then resumed his position of leaning against the couch with his eyes closed.
"Hmm… Thing you may be standing on… But that's the floor, isn't it? How is the floor of all equal sides? A floor can be oddly shaped… Like Luna's house, how everything was rounded… And yeah, a floor is in the kitchen… Well, I hope so. I suppose you could make the floor invisible, but it would still be there, wouldn't it? 'If you happen to touch it, you'll be shipped away… Oh, at least that one's obvious… A Portkey, obviously, right? If you touch it, you're shipped away. Well, they mustn't go very far, or there'd be all these documents and such, so, no, I don't think you'll be on holiday to Australia, Ginny…" Ron sniggered, and Hermione continued as if she hadn't heard him. "You'll have to fight… What will scare you most in the end… Well, what scares you most, Ginny?"
Ginny turned bright red and suddenly became very interested on how the tips of her socks were actually navy and not black as she'd thought earlier.
"Well… so… the Portkey is a… floor? Okay, I still haven't worked out that bit. And… there's a boggart you'll have to face at the end, but there's got to be something more in between! That doesn't make much sense."
Ginny groaned. "Hermione, you're hurting my head, just after I got out of the Hospital Wing!" Hermione turned pink and shoved the piece of crinkled parchment into Harry's hand. Ginny giggled at this. "The Portkey floor. Well, how am I supposed to get across the floor, then? If it's a giant Portkey?" Ginny giggled again.
Hermione looked disrupted. "I don't know!" she said, irritated. "That's what's bothering me – I have no idea!"
"That's a first," whispered Harry in Ginny's ear, and Ginny whacked his arm. In the moment, they had forgotten about the awkwardness that had passed between them in the Hospital Wing, and when it suddenly came back to him, Harry wished it hadn't happened at all.
Hermione groaned again, snatched the parchment back from Harry's open fist, and began to read it again. Ron looked at Hermione, looked at the clue, and then looked back at Ginny. "Great, now I won't get a good snog till - "
Quickly and impatiently, Hermione gave Ron and kiss on the lips, but pulled away just as he started to get into it, looking back at the parchment. Ron threw up his hands.
"Great, now I won't get a good snog till - "
Growling, Hermione stood up and took the parchment with her, storming out through the portrait hole, surely to go to the library. "Real smart, Ron," snickered Ginny, leaning her head against Harry's shoulder as if to make him think she was the luckiest person alive.
Ron snarled at her. "Right, Ginny, because Harry's… because – Harry's… Harry."
Ginny snorted. "Thanks for clarifying that one up, Ron, I couldn't of figured that one out myself."
Ron gave her a nasty look before heading up to the boy's dorms, and then turned back, rather confusedly, and said, "Wait… it's nearly ten o'clock in the morning. Why on Merlin's ruddy left shoe am I going to bed?"
Grunting, Ron followed Hermione's path out the portrait hole as Harry and Ginny laughed in his wake.
"Right laugh, your brother," said Harry, now putting her arm around her shoulders.
Ginny smiled. "Yeah. He's not so bad, if you get to know him a bit."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, better then the way Draco Malfoy struck me when I first met him." He did a mockery of Draco when he'd asked to be his friend, and not hanging out with the wrong sort. And in a deep, drawling, manly voice completely unlike his own, Harry said, "I think I can choose the wrong sort for myself, thanks," thus leaving Ginny in peals of laughter.
"Right, Harry," said Ginny. "You sound like… Like - " Ginny laughed even harder, clutching the stitches in her sides. Sensing weakness, Harry began to tickle her, so that she laughed even harder.
"Harry – Harry… Stop!" she breathed, breathless from laughter and already aching. "I've just broken my ribs from a bloody chimaera and you're tickling – stop, stop! – me…"
Harry stopped tickling her, his face lit-up with a big grin as she panted, trying to catch her breath. "Seeing me defenseless is the only way to make you smile, I see?" said Ginny sweetly, and Harry looked at her a split second and realized what she was going to do.
"Ginny – no!" said Harry. Ginny began to tickle Harry; yet, Harry sat there and acted like he felt nothing.
"Why aren't you laughing your arse off?" squealed Ginny.
"Not ticklish," said Harry.
"Surely, you must have a ticklish spot!" said Ginny, and she took off his shoes and peeled off his socks, and then began to tickle his feet.
Harry's face did not betray him; it was still flat and expressionless; though his eyes were dancing with laughter as Ginny struggled to make him laugh.
Suddenly Ginny had a mischievous glint in her eye, and she leaned in, and instead of tickling Harry, kissed him right on the lips. Harry spluttered against her, and she pulled away laughing. "That's… that's not tickling!" said Harry.
"No," admitted Ginny, "would you prefer that instead?"
Harry grinned sheepishly, and Ginny kissed him again.
Fluffy ending, sorry, had to end it somewhere…
Does anyone have any guesses to what the clue could really mean? It isn't very complex, really, just… hmm. Well, it's sort of the floor. Anyone know what type of floor? If you're the first person to get it right, I'll dedicate the next chapter to you (just for fun)! And now there's one hundred reviews for this story! Really, I'm shocked… It really is amazing!
Keep in mind this is not beta-ed... Sorry if there's any mistakes, I just like to get the chapters out as fast as I can.
Okay, I have a question… During the second task, it's much more interesting then the Chimaeras, and only the people in the Tournament are going to be able to see what's going on; the people in the audience won't be able to. So… d'you want me to stay in Harry's point of view, or go to one of the champions (preferably Ginny), where all the action will be? Please tell me, I need your input! Thanks.
Hope you enjoyed!