Nothing belongs to me.
LIII: Guilt
"What's up?" Hermione asked as her two best friends plopped down into seats next to her.
Ron looked violently sick. He was a horrible shade of green, and Harry didn't look any better. He was running a nervous hand through his untidy hair, like he always did whenever he was nervous. His eyes darted continually between Ron and the entry to the Great Hall.
"I can't believe we did that." Ron croaked, ignoring Hermione.
"We?" repeated Harry indignantly. "You were the one holding the wand!"
"It doesn't matter. She's going to slaughter you anyway. You were there – that's enough."
Harry paled as though he had only just realized this. "What's this, Ron?" he asked his friend weakly, in retaliation. "Feeling a little guilt?"
"Are you kidding?" Ron stared up at the Head Table. "She deserved it!"
"What did you do, Ron?" Surprisingly, this was not Hermione, but Dean Thomas.
"I'm not telling you!" Ron spat, glaring at him.
"What did he do?" Hermione inquired, looking expectantly at Harry.
But at that moment, Great Hall's doors crashed open with such a loud bang, everyone was surprised to see it hadn't been ripped clean off their hinges.
"Ronald Weasley!" screamed a voice, thick with emotion and a hundred times louder than it would have been with the silence that engulfed The Hall. This wild cry of fury was not unlike that of Molly Weasley's in a notorious Howler sent to a certain someone four years previously.
Ginny charged over to their table, slamming her hands down. Her face was redder than her hair, a pretty shade of magenta.
(Everyone sitting in the Great Hall later agreed that they had never seen anyone look angrier.)
Several first and second years sitting at the table took refuge underneath it as everyone watched transfixed. You could hear a quill drop with the silence that ensued; everyone seemed to forget how to breathe.
Next –
Ronald Weasley squealed like a girl as his little sister sprung into action, lunging across the Gryffindor table, her wand discarded. Most people probably would too, squeal, that is, had they seen the raging fire dancing in Ginny's eyes.
She knocked her brother right off the bench and onto the stone floor. Her fists began to soar, attacking every inch of Ron they could find. Ginny's hits made the Whomping Willow look like a twig.
The teachers were too surprised to act.
