A/N: Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. Late February. RAHH! I had you all anticipated, didn't I? Hehe. Anyway, here's the chapter you wanted. Be warned, there is moderate language. Ginny confesses

HOORAY EVERYBODY! The wait is over! THE MOMENT BETWEEN GINNY AND DRACO HAS ARRIVED! (even though, technically Draco's asleep and unable to notice.) Enjoy!

DEDICATION: Yay! Another dedication. This is dedicated to Remus Lupin, who would have been so much better off marrying me than Tonks. Oh well. I suppose that's life.

Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-

The Stone Speaks

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fire and Ice

GINNY

"Rubeus," McGonagall said, "go get a ghost – any ghost, just not Peeves – and tell them to look out for a young female transported one of the Living through the network." Hagrid nodded, and jogged away, each of his footfalls causing the ground to tremble.

"Now what?" asked Hermione fearfully.

"Now, Miss Granger, we wait."

…

Ginny was swirling through an abyss of grey, white, black – and, most frightening, the stark red of blood. The only thing anchoring her to life was the touch of Myrtle's transparent hand. She was so very… very… tired.

"Don't fall asleep, Ginny," Myrtle's voice said, sounding strangely distant. "That's death acting on you. If you fall asleep, you don't wake up. Ever." The ghost held Ginny's hand tighter, nearly cutting off circulation so that the sixteen-year-old couldn't sleep.

"Ohmigod! It's Nick!" Myrtle suddenly hissed. "Oh no, I've just been fighting evil, I bet that I look a mess!"

Despite Myrtle's pincer-grip, Ginny was drifting to sleep. She barely heard this comment… she just wanted to sleep… forever… her body ached from torture, heart-ache and duelling… sleep…

"Miss Weasley, as I assume Myrtle has already informed you, you would do well not to slumber in the Realm of the Dead. Hold on tight, now, we're nearly there," said a calm, collected, man's voice.

The world spun, faster and faster and faster – then Ginny was hurled out into the real world. She saw the green of the ground and the black of the sky, and then she was thudding into the grass, face-down with a painful thump. "Ow," she mumbled, forgetting her weariness.

"GINNY!" Ron ran forwards and hugged her tight. "When I heard that you'd been abandoned," he glared at Luna, "with the Lestranges… I was so worried." He kissed the top of her head. Ginny knew that she was dirty and bloody, and couldn't imagine how Ron could stand the taste of her hair.

"Oh, Ginny," Harry said gratefully, and he and Hermione hugged her too. Ginny withstood the embraces impatiently for a moment, before shrugging them off and running to Draco.

"Ohmigod, where is he, where is he?" Ginny said. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid and the Golden Trio were crowding around her, but she fought her way past them and crouched beside Draco. "Ohh my God…" she whispered. "Draco…" His face was bruised, there were tiny, bloody half-moons decorating his faces that looked like cuts from fingernails being dug in, his bare back was laced with deep, copiously bleeding wounds, and he was totally, utterly still. "He's – he's hurt," she choked out. Her small hand found his wounded, bloody one, and she held him tightly.

"Ginny," Ron urged softly in her ear, "come on, we have to go back up to Gryffindor tower. Let's go, you need to rest."

"No," said Ginny defiantly as Snape, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey lifted Draco onto the stretcher they had Summoned.

"What?" Ron echoed. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean that I'm not coming," Ginny said. "I'm going with Draco."

"But Ginny -" Hermione started, a disapproving look in her eyes.

"Gin, he doesn't matter! Let's -" Ron began, but he was cut off fiercely.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," Ginny said, her voice low and dangerously fierce. "I got up in the middle of the night. I travelled half-way across England on the back of a horse – I'm terrified of horses, Ron, and you know that. When I got there, I was cursed, hexed, jinxes. Ronald, I was tortured. I was nearly killed. All to save his," she pointed furiously at Draco, "life."

She took a step closer to her brother, glaring at him. "Do you really think that he doesn't matter to me? I've done all of that with only Luna and Myrtle to accompany me. If you were anxious for my safety, then you should have come too!"

"Ginny, that's not the point -"

"Yes, Ron, it is!" Ginny interrupted sharply. "Just because all that you care about is Quidditch and yourself, doesn't mean that we're all the same." Satisfied with her speech, she turned on her heel and jogged after Draco.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, Ginny tried to stay at the wounded Slytherin's side, but privacy curtains were drawn around him, and she was forced into a bed on the other side of the ward. "But – Madam Pomfrey – I really don't – but -" Ginny struggled, but she was so tired… she was snoring before the Sleep-Aid Potion even got to her.

…

The sunrise was spreading pink through her eyelashes. Ginny opened her eyes groggily. There was an abandoned goblet of Sleep-Aid Potion on her bedside, along with a vase of wilting crocuses and a small handmirror.. The Hospital Wing with dimly light from the sun's pale orange-pink light, and she could just make out the other beds. Luna was in one, fast asleep, and there were other people that Ginny did not recognize.

She picked up the hand mirror and inspected her reflection. Her hair had been scraped back from her face to get at her wounds, making her look like some sort of horrific dummy. Huge plasters were under her chin from where she had smashed her face into Bellatrix' basement stairs; stitches travelled across her features. Her hand was in a cast, and bandadges were weaving across her chest, stomach and thighs underneath her clothes.

"Wow. And Jaqi thought I was ugly before I nearly got myself killed," Ginny commented cynically. She tugged off the hairband, letting her muddy, blood-stained hair swing in front of her face – it felt weird with her face so exposed.

There was suddenly a loud, pained moan. Ginny turned to see where it had come from and saw the hideous floral curtains. "Draco," she gasped. In her tiredness, she had almost forgotten him. In a flash, she was out of bed and running across the Wing, limping as her sore, bare feet touched the icy floor tiles.

"Draco?"

She paused outside of the curtains. He was mumbling to himself… then he suddenly cried out. "No! Please, no!"

Ginny slipped through the curtains and moved quickly to his side. He looked better than he had last night. He, too, was covered in stitches, but, unlike Ginny, he was covered in far bandages, each one tinged red with the blood that still seeped through. However, he was awfully thin, and what skin could be seen through the blood caked onto his body was deadly pale, almost grey.

"No," Draco groaned. "Please – NO!" he screamed in his sleep. His eyes were moving frantically under his eyelids. He was obviously going through the Hell that the Lestranges made for him in his nightmares all over again, and Ginny wanted to help him, but she didn't know how.

"Draco – Draco, sshh, it's okay," she said desperately.

He was twisting and writhing under his bedclothes, but this moved his injuries and only made it worse.

"Draco," she whispered. "It's okay, I'm here." She sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and took his hand – it was beaded with a cold sweat, and Ginny felt her heart going out to him for everything that had happened. "Sshh, I'm here, it's alright, Draco," she repeated, her voice quiet and comforting.

Gradually Draco's frantic breathing slowed down and his screams turned to faint, helpless whimpering like a hurt puppy. "Please…" he whispered, clenching his bedsheets unconsciously with his free hand.

"There, there… calm down… it's okay," Ginny said softly. She reached up her other hand and smoothed Draco's tousled, dirty hair from his face. As she reassured the sleeping boy, she was unaware of the many eyes watching her through the crack in the curtains. Square spectacles, black-onyx, protuberant grey, and elderly matron glasses gazed at the heart-warming sight, before closing the curtains firmly and returning to their beds (they had been awoken by the shouting).

"Luna," asked Professor McGonagall thoughtfully, straightening her spectacles, "you're friends with Ginny. Is there anything… between Miss Weasley and Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes," Luna nodded, raking a hand through the ends of her blonde hair. "They're best friends and have been almost all year."

"I mean… more than best friends…?" McGonagall asked. Professor Snape's dark eyes narrowed dangerously as he listened to the conversation.

"I don't know," said Luna with a shrug. "I'll ask her. Perhaps." She climbed back into her bed, and with a dreamy, "'Night Professors," fell asleep almost immediately. Snape drew his cloak tighter around him and swept cantankerously from the Wing with a quiet, "Hmph!" of displeasure. McGonagall eyed the male Professor's exit, watched Miss Lovegood curl up, snoring contently, and then followed Madam Pomfrey back to the staff beds in the other room, where they could keep an eye on the unwell students.

"Stop… please… no…" Draco said, shivering. He twitched again, and his breathing quickened.

"No, Draco, it's okay… you're not with the Lestranges… you're with me, Ginny, and you're safe… it's okay, Draco," Ginny said gently, stroking his tangled hair. She moved her thumb and, smiling softly at him, stroked his cold, slightly clammy cheek. "It's okay…"

Draco murmured, "Ginny…" and then, surprising her, leaned into her touch, laying his head against her hand. The tiniest of smiles graced her cut lips as she looked fondly at him. She remembered what she had said at the Lestrange castle… and it was true, she now realized.

Ginny stared at Malfoy. She'd never heard him confess to anything, especially not to being scared. She, again, didn't know what to say. The quiet, sarky, I-won't-tell-you-anything, friendless, allegedly emotionless Death Eater known as Draco Malfoy had just opened his chest and given her a piece of the little heart he had, and she longed to repay him in some way, and let him know that he wasn't alone, but she didn't know how.

Ginny gazed up at him. The black witchy high-heels made her slightly taller, so the top of her head was now level with Draco's nose. Her knee-length, floaty black Hallowe'en dresss probably looked really stupid… why was he looking at her like that? It made her feel so shy and silly, like she actually mattered in the world.

Side-step left, then right, then left, then twirl out. She lifted her hand, shyly spinning underneath, her hair nearly hitting Draco, and then moving forwards. Oh God, here it comes, here it comes – the twang of the fiddle, Draco hands flying away, sweeping to her small waist, lift up, his slim hands around her, twirling her around, smiling timidly down at him, and then letting his arms buckle so that she dropped down, surprisingly graceful, and turned, skirt swirling.

"Oh hell," said Ginny, panicky as she saw Hermione coming. "Not good, not good." She looked up into Draco's face, cringing as Hermione drew closer and closer. Ginny sighed heavily. "Oh, for God's sake," she said, and she was standing on tiptoe, stepping into Draco's personal bubble – oh God, oh God – and then she pressed her lips to his for one second, two seconds, three… the mistletoe disappeared, and Ginny turned on her heel, fleeing, face red with embarrassment and a strange feeling of pleasure.

"Er, I need you to help me make a romantic potion that should, in theory, take six days to make," Ginny blurted out, batting her short eyelashes hopefully at him. She knew that fluttering her eyelashes hadn't worked with Sanchia, but knew? She could give it a shot.

Ginny was spinning under his arm, her own arm stretched upwards to almost its full extent, her skirt flaring around her knees, and then her journey across the dance floor came to abrupt halt and Draco caught her, his head lightly clapping her back, and then they were dancing, closer than ever, their bodies flush of each other. Ginny's breath caught again as she found herself pressed against tall, slim Draco Malfoy's chest, but she discovered that she was totally unwilling to move. She tipped her head right back so that her red hair sparkled in the light as it fell down from her shoulders, to look up at him. Ginny nodded silently, wanting to just enjoy the moment, her fingers interlaced with his, her face tilted up, his tilted down… she was struck by a sudden urge to stand on tiptoe and kiss him… she leaned forwards, her eyes fluttering closed –

The Mirror of Erised. It was smashed, and in a thousand pieces… but did it still worked. Ginny glanced over her shoulder, checking that it wasn't her time to go yet, and then stared into the water. What she was surprised her incredibly. There was a reflection of herself, gazing in awe at the mirror, and then, behind her, his arms twined around her waist, was… Draco.

The smallest of smiles flickered across Ginny's face, and then, as she looked up at Bellatrix, she whispered, "Thank you… I wouldn't have wanted to die any other way – I'm dying to save the person I… love."

"It's true," Ginny whispered, mainly to herself, but partially to the sleeping blonde angel whose hand she held. "I – I love you. I really do… not like my stupid crush on Dean, Seamus, Terry – even Harry! I wasn't supposed to… and I'm not supposed to now, either… but I'm falling in love with you. Far, too fast. I've already passed the point of no return," she chuckled slightly, quoting one of Hermione's Muggle space films.

Draco murmured something inaudible, but it was enough to attract Ginny's attention to his thin, pale lips. Do I… do I dare? She stared down at her hands, one holding Draco's one and the other holding his cheek. He was so close… and yet, in his dreams, so far away. Ginny, it's not as if you're ever going to get another opportunity. Take this chance…

Finally, trembling, and still holding on with both hands, Ginny leaned forwards. Her eyes fluttered closed and she rested her lips briefly, softly on his. She pulled back slowly, opening her eyes, and touched her fingers to her lips, scarcely daring to believe that it had happened at last. A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she knew that she wanted this moment to last forever.

…

"Miss Weasley?"

Ginny blinked blearily at the harsh light as she woke up. She was rather uncomfortable, now that she thought of it. Why was that? Oh yes. She was curled up precariously on the edge of Draco's bed. Reddening, she stood, holding her bandages and looked, ashamed at Madam Pomfrey.

"I trust you slept well?" the matron questioned, a slightly teasing note in her tone.

Ginny's colour deepened. "I'm sorry," she said, and hastily made her way back to her own bed. It was like sliding into ice; the lack of her own body heat had made it freezing. "When am I able to leave?" she asked.

"Today," said Madam Pomfrey. "If, that is, I check and find that you're fit to go. However, I must say that you'll need to come back in the evenings for me to give you a check-up." Ginny nodded, and sat patiently as the elderly woman fussed and prodded her with a wand. "Very well, Miss Weasley. You're free to go."

Ginny thanked her, and then hurried on towards the Gryffindor tower. She was wearing only the flimsy Hospital pajamas and a lot of bandages; she just hoped that she wouldn't run into anyone. The only people she saw was a group of first-years who yelped in their mirth and then covered their eyes, still laughing.

Normally, this would have been Ginny's cue to snap, "grow up" or something to that effect, but now their hilarity didn't bother her. She was floating – floating on the memory of the feel of Draco's lips against hers. She jogged up the stairs and pushed through the portrait hole.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan were chatting amiably by the fireplace. Ron and Hermione were curled up together like cats in the single armchair; Harry and the Creevey brothers were sprawled out on the sofa; Seamus and Lavender were together on the loveseat. Ginny rushed past them, trying to cover the Hospital pajamas.

"Ginny, I need to talk to you," said Harry, stopping her from going up the girls' dorm.

"So do I," snapped Ron. "Now."

"Oh dear," the others groaned. Ginny and Ron's family fights were legendary in the Gryffindor common room. Anyone sleeping would have no hope of get even a snooze with their level of bellowing, and if you wanted your eardrums to stay intact, it would be wise to leave the Gryffindor tower.

"Not right now, Ron," said Ginny, continuing to her dormitory.

"Yes, right now, Ginny, it's important!" Ron snapped.

"Well, Ron, I'm going to walk away from you regardless, because I'm in Hospital Wing pajamas!"

"So? There's nothing wrong with that. Now -"

"Would you like to wear them, Ron?"

"No! Everyone know they're see-through!"

"EXACTLY!" Ginny stalked away from the snickers and the shouting, up the stairs, and flopped onto her bed. Why does he have to always spoil everything? Why – why – does he have to ruin the best time of my life? She angrily pummelled her pillow, imagining it to have blue eyes, red hair and freckles. "Stupid," she growled. She stood, crossed to the bathroom and showered thoroughly, clawing at her scalp to get the blood from it. When she was satisfied that she had been scrubbed within an inch of her life, she reapplied her bandages to various wounds, tugged on jeans, a plain T-shirt and a woollen lime-green jumper, slipped her feet into her trainers, and pulled her wet hair into an untidy bun.

"Right, I suppose I'd better go and have a friendly chat to Mr. Gentleman 2008," she said sarcastically to herself, and returned down the stairs.

"Yes, Ronald?" Ginny asked, her voice dripping with hostility and irritation.

"Ginevra, come with me," he snapped.

"Don't – call – me – Ginevra!" she snapped. "Ronald," she added for good measure. "You know, I think that I might talk to Harry first – just to annoy you."

"Don't you dare!"

Ginny glared up at her tall sibling and followed him from the common room, into the passageway of the Gryffindor tower. "Well, Ron. You've got me here, now, so spit it out. What the hell do you want?" she asked.

"Don't talk to me that way, Ginny," Ron growled. "Anyway, I don't want anything. I am getting something. You are never to go near Malfoy again."

"WHAT?" Ginny yelled. "THAT'S why you pulled me out here?! I don't believe you! You arrogant git, Ronald – you can NOT control my life, so just live your own!"

"Ginny, he is using you!" Ronald snarled. "Trust me on this! He is a no-good asshole and he's just using you to get close to Harry!"

"FOR YOUR INFORMATION, RONALD, WE HARDLY EVER DISCUSS HARRY! WE HARDLY EVER DISCUSS YOU, OR HERMIONE, OR MUM AND DAD, OR WHERE WE LIVE!" Ginny bellowed. "I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH YOU, ALWAYS STICKING YOUR NOSE IN OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS! I'm NOT going to just stop being friends with Draco because you ASKED ME TO!"

"Ginevra, I'm not asking you. I'm TELLING you!" Ron shouted. "You are never going near him again!"

"How would you like it if I said that you could never see Hermione again?" Ginny snapped. "How would you like it?"

Ron turned red. "That's different!" he retorted angrily.

"No, it's NOT! Draco is my BEST FRIEND -"

"Wait – WHAT?" Ron yelped. "WE are your best friends!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT, RON! My best friends come to help me when I need helping, regardless of whether or not they like what they have to do. Luna, Myrtle and Draco are my best friends. Luna doesn't particularly like Draco, but when she saw how upset I was that I was being tortured, she IMMEDIATELY volunteered to help me save him – instead of what YOU did, which is bellow at me that I'm not allowed to go!"

"GINNY STOP SHOUTING! WE ARE NOT EVEN HAVING THIS BLOODY CONVERSATION, OKAY? YOU'RE NOT EVER SEEING THAT STUPID SLYTHERIN BASTARD-"

Whack.

Ron crumpled to the floor, and Ginny stormed back into the Gryffindor common room past a horrified, gaping Fat Lady. Breathing hard, she said flatly, "Harry, I believe you wanted to talk to me next?"

"Where's Ron?" asked Dennis fearfully.

"Dead," retorted Ginny sardonically. "I killed him and ate his liver. Happy? Come on, Harry, let's move it."

With a rather frightened glance at Ron, staggering in sporting a black eye and a busted lip, Harry followed Ginny outside. "Not another one!" complained the Fat Lady. "Count me out. I'll be with Sir Cadogan at the bottom of the tower. Tell me when you've stop screaming your lungs out at each other." Pink skirts swishing, she stood and waddled out of the canvas.

Harry took a deep breath, and looked down at Ginny. She was in one of her fierce moods – her face flushed with anger and her eyes glowing. "Ginny," he started lamely. "I don't want to upset you, because you're very important to me and I wouldn't be able to cope if anything were to upset you -"

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, except for my best friend being tortured. That gets overlooked," she said coolly.

Harry's face heated up. "I didn't realize how serious it was," he said apologetically. I'm sure, Ginny thought, but she let him finish. "Anyway, I do love you, Gin, and I care about you -"

"Harry, it's over."

"-and I – wait. What?" Harry spluttered, looked nonplussed. "I… I – what?"

"Stop sounding so shocked," Ginny said boredly. "You don't love me, and, to be quite frank, I don't love you. I actually never have. More of a silly childhood crush, if you must know."

"B-but -" Harry stammered. "You knew… you knew a-about Luna?" his face coloured terribly.

"Yes, I did, Harry, and I wish you the best of luck with her."

"But… why didn't you break up with me?" asked Harry, sounding almost annoyed at Ginny's totally irresponsible behaviour (sarcasm alert).

"Because, Harry, I was waiting for you to suck it up, be a man, and tell me yourself how you felt without me jumping to conclusions and ditching you without an explanation," Ginny said. "Anyway, I do love you – but as a big brother."

"Like Ron."

"Yeah, like Ron. Well, less arrogant and nosy. But, basically, like Ron," Ginny laughed. "Is there anything you want me to help with? For you and Luna, I mean."

Harry looked thoughtful. "I don't know… I think I'll be fine – oh! Do you know what her favourite flowers are?" he asked, blushing until it seemed as if his glasses would steam up. "I think I might give her a bouquet of flowers when I ask her out… if that's okay with you."

"I don't know about her favourite flower – but I do know that she loves clematis," Ginny advised, and, when Harry looked blank, she added, "big purple flower."

"Ohhh," said Harry, nodding. "Right. I'll get some on my next Hogsmeade trip."

"I can show you – no. Wait. I can't," Ginny muttered. She had forgotten. "I'm not allowed into Hogsmeade."

"So?" Harry asked bluntly. "You weren't allowed to fly across England and rescue Malfoy from the Lestranges, but it didn't stop you then."

"Yeah, but that was an emergency," Ginny pointed out. "Anyway. Come on, let's go back inside. FAT LADY!" The overweight beribboned woman hastened back into her portrait and sat down to give them entry.

"Wow, the silence was actually really weird," Seamus joked. "My ears were ringing from Ron and Ginny's conversation – and then Harry went down there and it was like the world had stopped!"

"You're so funny, Shay," Lavender cooed, capturing her boyfriend's mouth with hers. Ginny grimaced at the slightly horrific sight of the love-seat, and then dropped down onto the sofa between Dennis and Colin.

"So what happened?" Hermione prompted, looking between Harry and Ginny. She had previously been sitting on Ron's lap, but he had stormed outside to see Ginny, and when he came back, he collapsed on top of Hermione, so now it looked slightly bizarre.

"Er," said Harry, looking a bit ashamed of himself.

"Me and Harry broke up," Ginny said unblushingly, standing and crossing to the Muggle vending-machine that Seamus, Dean and Harry had all smuggled into Hogwarts after stealing it from a London shopping centre over the Christmas holidays. "Drinks, anyone?"

Ron gasped for air for a few seconds like a dying fish; Hermione's expression was one of thank you, finally before she raised her hand and declared, "I feel like having a Fanta, please,"; Dennis and Colin were sniggering as they asked for Pepsis; Seamus and Lavender looked shocked; Harry, looking embarrassed, asked for a drink.

"WHAT?" Ron bellowed at the last minute; Hermione sighed at him and began to reprimand him in whispers.

"No way, mate," Seamus said. "You just ditched the best girl in Gryffindor! Apart from Lavender, 'course," he added hastily, seeing his girlfriend's blazing look.

"You know it," smirked Lavender, and attacked his lips again, Harry and Ginny's relationship forgotten.

Ginny kicked the stubborn machinery a few times to get it gurgling into action, before it spat out one Coke, one Fanta, two Pepsis and a Sprite. Ginny distributed them accordingly and then cracked her own can open, slurping happily from the icy drink. Everyone was still staring at her and Harry – it was bugging her. "What?" she asked, setting her can down before sitting down again.

"Are you doing this JUST to annoy me?" Ron demanded.

Ginny smiled sweetly at him. "Now, why, darling brother, would I ever sink so low?" she simpered, sipping from her drink again.

"I know what you're doing, Ginny – you're deliberately breaking up with Harry so that you can go and be with Malfoy," Ron spat. "I see right through you, and you're not going anywhere with him. He's a stupid, betraying Dark Lord supporter who only wants to hurt you."

Seamus, Lavender, Dennis and Colin gasped. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley? That's like… the sly Slytherin Prince and the fiery Gryffindor Queen! That's like… fire and ice! Surely not.

Ginny stared at Ron, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. "You know," she said quietly, "I could have sworn that we had already held this conversation, and that you came out off it with a black eye."

Dennis snickered; his older brother thumped him. "Shut up, Den, if you want to stay alive. This is how it works with the Weasleys – stay quiet, keep still, and hope that they don't see you and decide to attack," Colin hissed. Hermione slid out from under Ron and hurried to sit elsewhere. Rule One of Being A Gryffindor: don't get caught the middle of the Weasley arguments.

"I don't care. Draco Malfoy is arrogant bastard, and you're never going to speak to him again," Ron said smoothly. Everyone in the room shot him fearful, shut-up-Ron-you're-going-to-be-murdered looks. Saying that Ginny had a scary temper was a serious understatement, and insulting her or her friends was like telling Satan that his goatee makes his face look fat.

Ginny stood up and moved swiftly across the room. She stopped in front of her brother's seat. "Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said icily, "you are so far up yourself that you can brush your teeth from the inside. You make me sick." Then, so suddenly that no-one could quite process what had happened, she threw the contents of her Coke can at him. Almost in slow-motion, half a litre of fizzy black liquid splattered his clothes, his face, his hair, and the chair. Leaving the common room in a stunned silence, Ginny stalked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

A/N: Haha… Ron got owned. XP Please review, as always! (See the little button below… click it… it won't hurt if you juuuust click it)