A/N: **trumpet fanfare** CHAPTER EIGHT! I'm
very sorry this is taking so long, posting through another person can get very
confusing. Thanks to TsukiKou for putting up with me. As an author I can get
very temperamental. A word to the wary: this chapter contains brief, weird
bouts of insanity (but I'm not giving anything away!). You might think those
scenes are stupid, or pointless, or you might just think they're funny. Any
way, I don't care – just enjoy it. And mush abounds in certain paragraphs, too.
Readers who reviewed: my gratitude knows no bounds. Lilyangel666,
Crystal Joy, Willa Clove, starfishy, Serena-chan, Virginia, Golden Snidget,
Victory on Wings, Winky, Eva E. Baker, ria – plus, of course, all of you who
I've listed before in any chapter 1-7. A note to Lina – if you review again
(which I hope you will), I think – I'll have to check – that in Chamber
of Secrets, when Harry's going up the stairs to Ron's room after first arriving
at the Burrow, it says something like 'a pair of bright brown eyes gazed at him
through a doorway'…I'll let you know at the beginning of Chapter 9. MoNmOn – I
saw A.I. Artificial Intelligence after the Harry Potter preview, which
was very good, if not a tiny bit too long (A.I., not the preview for
Harry!). You can see both previews at Harrypotter.com, but you have to load
Flash or QuickTime or RealPlayer to see them.
Enough jabbering, Ariel.
Disclaimer: Maybe if you let me borrow a sizeable amount of cash from
you, I could buy the rights to Harry Potter and not have to put this little
comment on my story. But as of right now, I don't own it, and I don't claim to.
That done with, moving on…
Mixed Messages
By Ariel Star
Chapter 8
Harry paced nervously around the dorm as he watched Ron pulling his
new dress robes (navy blue, with silver fastenings – Fred and George had stayed
true to their word) over his red head. He'd already dressed, he was wearing his
same bottle green dress robes from last year, and his thoughts were more on
Ginny than on Cho, his date for the event. It didn't matter how he looked. His
paces quickened with impatience. How was he going to pull this off? He couldn't
kiss her. Couldn't. Ever.
Ron's head protruded from the neck hole in the robes. His hair stuck
up wildly from static, making him look as though he'd been recently
electrocuted. He shot a concerned glance at Harry. "You okay?" he asked.
"No," Harry said involuntarily. "I mean yes!" he added hastily. "Yes."
"Okay," Ron said, one eyebrow raised so high it was in danger of
disappearing under his hair. "I believe you…"
"Oh, fine," Harry said. "I don't care. Let's just get ready so we can
go."
"You're really enthusiastic, Harry," called Seamus. "I, for one, am
really looking forward to this dance…Raven's as far from a troll as you can
get, eh, boys?" He looked at Harry and Ron, knowing about their argument with
Hermione from last year about how it was better to not go at all then to go
with someone ugly. He had been in the common room when it happened.
"Shut your face, you," Ron said good-naturedly. "I'm not going with a
troll either, you know." He was going with Hermione, to whom he had (FINALLY)
confessed his feelings about a week earlier (in Transfiguration class, which
accounted for Hermione's unfinished guinea pig). His confession ended in tears
from Hermione, followed by a kiss on the cheek from her and much blushing from
both. After this came an awkward invitation to the dance, which Hermione
accepted gracefully. Harry was glad to see them together, along with the rest
of the population of Gryffindor Tower and pretty much the entire school. Fred
and George had been particularly delighted, convinced it was their prodding
that had brought the two together. In fact it wasn't so much their prodding as
their younger sister's – she had been the primary influence in getting Ron to
admit his feelings to Hermione by letting him know that she, Ginny, personally
thought Hermione felt the same way. Harry knew that, in reality, Ginny had been
under instruction from Hermione to tell Ron this in no uncertain terms. It made
him smile to see how underhanded his friends thought they were being, when in
all actuality everyone knew what was going on – then it struck him that
possibly he too looked that way. Did everyone know what his whispered
conversation with Raven had been about? Did everyone see the look in his eyes
when he glanced at Ginny? He sincerely hoped not. He tuned back into the
conversation, which was at the point of suggesting it was time to descend from
their room and find their dates in the common room. Harry had to venture out
into the Great Hall to find his date, but he did want to see Ginny before he
left. All the rest of the boys in his dorm were going with Gryffindors, with
the exception of Neville, who was going with Hannah Abbot. Dean was going with
Beth Hurst, a sixth year; Seamus with Raven; and of course, Ron with Hermione.
The boys headed down the staircase, looking similar to the way they
had looked before the Yule Ball – uncomfortable. They entered the common room
to a burst of color. Ron found Hermione easily, she'd already told them she had
new deep red dress robes, but he couldn't help goggling for a second at his
good fortune – Hermione really did look pretty. The red brought out some of the
cinnamon flecks in her brown eyes, and her hair, once again smoothed and back
in a shining knot. Harry told her that she looked beautiful, not as stinting in
his compliments as he had been with Parvati last year – the simple fact that he
liked Hermione helped enormously. She blushed, but looked pleased all the same,
thanked Harry, and then Ron whisked her off to the Hall. Harry sat around,
waiting to see Ginny so that he could go. A sudden quiet fell on the common
room as a vision of loveliness exploded into the room from the direction of the
fourth year dorms.
First Gwen came down the stairs, looking serenely beautiful as she
walked towards Robby MacIntosh, her date. She was wearing a sky-blue set of
robes and had her hair loosed from its usual bun, displaying the golden waves
that fell all the way down her back in all their abundance. Robby looked
stunned, then awed as Gwen took his arm gently and led him towards the portrait
hole.
Raven was next, in robes of deep purple with gold and emerald-green
trim, along with matching bracelets and necklace. To complete the princess
picture, she had a gold tiara with tiny sparkling emeralds inset in it. Her
hair, too, was loose from its usual ponytail and falling down her back, its
lustrous sheen irresistible. Seamus wore a look of shock identical to Robby's
as Raven grinned timidly in greeting. Harry smiled, but just then Ginny came
down, and all thoughts of Raven and Seamus and Gwen and Hermione and Ron and
all the rest of them faded – for there was the most beautiful girl he thought
he'd ever seen.
True, her hair wasn't as shiny as Raven's or Gwen's. True, she had a
dusting of freckles across her nose that Raven and Gwen's complexions were
devoid of. She didn't move as gracefully as Gwen nor as confidently as Raven.
But she was perfect in Harry's eyes.
Ginny had on her midnight-blue robes with the gold edging and matching
gold bangles and medium-sized gold hoop earrings. She also had a thin gold
necklace on which a charm, a tiny gold lily, hung. Her hair was pulled back on
the sides into two pearl-studded matching barrettes, cascading over her shoulders
and down her back in a blaze of red-orange beauty. Harry could do nothing but
stare. And here he was, going to the ball with Cho! How could he have been so
blind before?
Ginny walked – floated would be a better word, Harry thought dazedly –
over to greet Harry shyly. "Hi," she said, looking at the floor.
"Hi," Harry replied. Ginny faltered, then rushed into an explanation
for her appearance.
"Oh, Harry, do I look all right? The barrettes are Raven's, she said
they looked better in my red hair, and I just didn't know, but wore them
anyway, and my robes – well, they're secondhand, like Ron's, but I don't think
they look too shabby – oh, Harry, be honest. Do you think I'll do?"
Harry was struck dumb. Did he think she would DO? Of course she would
do – she was easily the most beautiful girl on the planet. How could she
honestly think that she didn't look all right? Was she perhaps fishing for
compliments? He studied her face carefully. No, her eyes had a look of complete
innocence and just a touch of nervousness mixed with fright. Her own brown eyes
searched his pleadingly for an answer. Harry recalled from some still-working
portion of his brain that Ginny had always thought she was plain, no matter
what her friends told her. She still thought herself plain, even dressed in
these shimmering robes with her hair perfectly styled. Harry realized that he
was making Ginny more uncomfortable by the second and quickly formed a
flattering reply in his mind.
"Gin, you look…" He stalled for effect. "Lovely."
Ginny's face broke out into a thrilled smile. She quickly cast her
eyes down, grinning widely.
Harry continued. "Your hair is perfect, Raven's right, and your robes
– nobody will know they're secondhand. Justin's a lucky guy." Ginny's smile
shrank a bit at his last comment, but her eyes were still smiling. Harry
offered to take her down through the portrait hole to the Hall, an offer Ginny
accepted hesitantly – "What will other people say?" – but Harry shrugged, not
really caring what people said. He got talked about enough as it was, he was
used to it.
Harry jumped down from the portrait hole and offered Ginny his hand,
which she took, leaping down lightly. She smiled again and let go of his hand,
Harry realizing that he had been holding it still, even after she jumped. Ginny
gave him a wave and walked over to Justin, who slipped his hand into hers.
Harry's jaw tightened, but Justin only squeezed her hand by way of greeting and
then let go. Harry watched his lips form the words "You look great," while
Ginny smiled back and thanked him. Harry sighed as he saw Cho waving at him
from behind Justin. He walked over.
Cho had on soft gold robes, her black hair pulled back into a gold
clip. Harry told her she looked very nice, and Cho blushed prettily, casting
her eyes down (Harry could see her eyelids had been done in gold makeup) and
saying demurely, "Thank you very much, Harry." Harry resisted the urge to roll
his eyes – Cho was acting very much like he'd seen Parvati and Lavender act
around other boys, and it always gave him the strong desire to gag. This was no
different.
"You're welcome," Harry said flatly. Cho's smile flickered for a
second. "Come on, let's go in." Cho's smile came back full blast as she hung on
Harry's arm and they went into the hall, Harry scanning the crowd for Ginny and
wishing fervently, yet again, that he had been able to pluck up the courage to
ask her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The night went on, and Ginny was enjoying herself immensely. Justin
was the perfect date: always considerate, asking her if she wanted to talk to
her friends or have a sip of punch or to sit down. Ginny assured him she was
fine and they continued dancing. A slow song came on and Ginny sighed as she
laid her head on Justin's shoulder, partially because it seemed the right thing
to do and partially to avoid looking into his deep, pool-blue eyes.
Oh, why couldn't she like Justin?
Before she had only known him as a fifth year who was rather
good-looking, and always polite, but still seemed rather…well, Hufflepuff.
Getting to know him tonight had been wonderful, she had discovered lots of
things they had in common. Justin was just right – not too bashful, like
Neville, but not loud and chattering, like Jamie O'Neal, Raven's turned-down
date, could sometimes be. He made pleasant conversation and was interesting, at
least to her, having come from a Muggle family. They also shared the bond of
being involved in the Chamber of Secrets affair back in Ginny's first year –
Justin and Ginny both were careful to tiptoe around that issue, as it still
vaguely upset her, but they did talk about being Petrified and the Basilisk a
bit.
He was a good student and in one advanced class with Ginny, and this
had been where he'd asked her to accompany him to the dance. He had been very
nice about it, no sniggering or shyness, but just a polite, straight
invitation. Ginny had accepted immediately, liking Justin tremendously more
than anyone else who had asked her made it very easy. She was actually looking
forward to the dance even though she wasn't going with Harry.
Justin had been very pleased with Ginny's answer: She had grinned
widely and said, looking up at him, "Sure, that would be great!" She had meant
it only as a caring friend, but Justin didn't know that. Ginny had quickly
clarified, saying, "So yes, I'll go. But – am I your – you know – date?"
Justin had colored briefly before saying, smiling quickly, "Only if
you want to be." The perfect opportunity.
"Friends…for now," Ginny offered, holding out her hand. Justin had
just grinned wider and taken her hand, shaking it firmly and echoing "Friends."
Ginny had liked his handshake. It was honest, but strong.
Justin was a very handsome boy, too, as Raven was quick to point out.
Large, pool-blue eyes looked out from under curly blondish-colored hair. When
he smiled (which he did often), Ginny liked his smile – it was sincere, unlike
Draco Malfoy's, pinched and forced, or Lavender Brown's, syrupy and sugary
without a hint of honesty.
Yes, Justin was everything Ginny wanted, and then some – kind, smart,
considerate, interesting, and (less importantly, but a 'nice bonus,' as Raven
put it) good-looking. Then why couldn't she like him? Why?
Ginny shifted her head to gaze up into Justin's face. She was a little
bit unnerved to see him gazing down at her, too. She quickly smiled and said,
"How long have you been staring at me, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?"
"Oh, since about September third, this year," Justin replied. Ginny
giggled.
"I'm so sure," she said, smiling ruefully. Justin shook his head.
"No, I mean it," he said, his tone serious. "Ginny Weasley, you are
one of the nicest, most interesting girls I've met here, you know that?" Ginny
felt her cheeks turn pinkish. She wasn't used to being showered with
compliments – she'd grown up with six brothers! She fished around for a reply,
and came up with "Thank you." She added, deciding to make it a little more
personal, "and likewise. I feel like I can be myself with you…almost as if you
were my best friend, like Raven or Gwen. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," Justin said, "I do…but I get the feeling that you're trying to
let me down gently. So you were serious in Herbology when you said you didn't
want to be anything more than friends?"
Ginny almost stopped moving, she was so stunned. Was someone actually
implying that they would like her – Ginny Weasley – to be their girlfriend? No,
it was impossible. She stared up at Justin, whose eyes and statement were
serious. He was serious.
What a scandal! Ginny Weasley, fourth year, going out with Justin
Finch-Fletchley, handsome, studious fifth year. Ginny smothered a grin in light
of Justin's serious face; she didn't want to offend him. She really did like
Justin, but she found herself wishing that his eyes were green and covered by
glasses, and his hair untidy and black, just covering a thin scar. It would be
mean and unfair to accept Justin's offer of more than friendship. She didn't,
above all, want to hurt him.
The song ended, but Justin still held Ginny close. His eyes asked for
an answer, and Ginny struggled to find one that was kind. Finally, she said,
"Justin, I think you are one of the nicest boys that I've met here, and I
wouldn't want to ruin the relationship we have now by rushing things." Oh, if
only she could tell him that she was going out with someone else – anyone – so
she wouldn't feel so bad. "I'm afraid to hurt you, but I was serious about only
being friends. I hope you're not angry." She gazed up at him, putting on her
injured puppy face.
Justin sighed and shook his head. Ginny was the only girl that he'd
really liked as more than a friend, but he couldn't be mad at her over her
decision. He could never be really mad at her. "I understand," Justin said.
"Thanks for being honest, and nice about it." Ginny nodded and smiled.
Suddenly, she didn't know what came over her – she felt so evil, she wanted to
make up for it. She was going to kiss him! A friendly kiss, on the cheek of
course, to show 'no hard feelings.' She got up on tiptoe with her eyes closed,
preparing to kiss the first boy she'd ever kissed besides a brother or father,
when she felt Justin's hands on her shoulders and his lips on her own cheek.
Ginny's systems shut down. A boy other than Harry had kissed her. A boy. Other
than Harry. Kissed her. She stood in shock, her arms still around Justin's
neck. She stared at him. Justin smiled quickly and said, "I'm going to take a
breather – why don't you dance with someone else?" Ginny nodded mutely, still
looking at him. She moved her arms down dreamily and Justin sauntered off for a
glass of punch. Gwen sauntered casually over, looking around, and then quickly
hissing in her ear "Ginny, you're in the middle of the dance floor! Move!"
Ginny came to her senses and sat down at a table, touching her cheek lightly. A
small smile flitted across her lips. Justin was so nice, and what he had done
wasn't anything but a peace offering, not at all improper. He had felt bad,
like her, and only beat her to the kiss. She shrugged a little, still wondering
how she could have attracted someone like Justin into her circle of friends.
She sighed and sank back into the chair, grateful for a chance to sit down and
reflect on the situation. So she wasn't going to go out with Justin. Well, that
was fine. She did like him, but he wasn't for her. Someone else was. Someone
like…like…her brain struggled for the answer she knew was there, most of it
still focused on her left cheek. She felt a tap on her shoulder.
"This dance taken?" she heard a voice ask. She whipped around to see
George standing there, his date, Alecia Spinnet, chatting with Angelina a few
tables down.
"No dance is taken when it comes to you, George," she grinned. She
stood, brushing out her robes, and George took her left hand in his right and
they began to waltz, something their mother had taught them years ago.
"So," George began presently. "I saw your little confrontation with
Mr. Finchley-Fletch."
"It's Finch-Fletchley, and you know it," Ginny said hotly, "and he's a
perfect gentleman," she added quietly.
"I see," George observed shrewdly. "Perfect. Perfect is a word we
usually reserve for Harry, am I right?"
Ginny glowered. "Harry's not perfect," she said, "and neither are you
or me or Justin or anybody."
"Touchy, touchy," George remarked, twirling her expertly. "So are you
'going' with him?"
"No," Ginny sighed. "He asked, but I turned him down. You won't tell
anyone, will you?" she begged.
"Of course not, why would I need to? Considering the whole Hall
already knows," George said with more than a touch of satisfaction.
"W – what?" Ginny stammered.
"Gin, didn't you notice that the song had ended?" George asked slowly,
as though speaking to a small, stupid child.
"Yes…"
"And a fast one came on. And you and Finchy were out in the middle of
the dance floor, staring into each other's eyes and moving about two inches per
minute - "
"Oh, no!" Ginny mouthed. "Did anyone hear us?"
"I doubt it," George consoled her. "Though I did. I was standing right
there, listening to whatever I could hear, which wasn't much, since the volume
of your voice was about nonexistent - "
"This isn't time to joke!" Ginny cried, catching the attention of
every couple in a three-yard radius. "What I mean is," she said hastily, and
more softly, "I don't care about me, but I probably embarrassed Justin to
death, and what will people say?"
"Who cares?" George shrugged eloquently. (a/n: did you know it was
possible to shrug eloquently? George can.) "What are you afraid they'll say?"
"Anything!" Ginny whispered, as George pulled her in and spun her out.
"You don't have to worry about anything," George said
matter-of-factly. "Harry is going to kiss you before the end of the night, and
then nobody will be talking about you."
"What?" Ginny gasped, her heart beating faster.
"Not to change the subject," George grinned, "but what do you say we
show these amateurs a thing or two about swinging?" The song had changed from a
slow waltz to a fast swing, something Ginny had loved listening to on the only
muggle station on the Wizarding Wireless Network. She and George had worked out
a routine, and once they had performed on a countertop in Diagon Alley when she
was only five. She grinned in anticipation, forgetting her Harry troubles for
the moment, wanting to lose herself in the music.
"I say let's do it," she whispered, grinning. George grinned back at
her and they took their starting positions.
Most kids at Hogwarts had never heard a swing, considering most came
from wizarding families who only had Wizarding Wireless Network and never
listened to the Muggle station. The students with Muggle parents listened to
popular music, so most of them were unfamiliar with it also. The few who had
were trying to teach their partners a little bit about it, but Ginny and
George, who were in the middle of the dance floor, took everyone's breath away.
They started in full blast, and slowly kids around them jabbed their
neighbors and said, laughing, "Look at the Weasley brother and sister!" People
backed out of their way, and before long everyone was around them in a huge
circle. Even the teachers were watching.
George's eyes scanned the crowd and he looked down at Ginny. Their
faces broke out into the Weasley grin, and they flew into their most
complicated swing dance, George lifting Ginny effortlessly and swinging her
from side to side and then back to her feet, dancing like they had been
practicing for months. Ginny was radiant and George was laughing at her
happiness, while the audience around them watched in hushed silence.
The song's melody rose in a cresendo and Ginny realized this was the
finale. It came much too soon for her. George vaulted her into the air to swing
her once more and she landed expertly, and they turned to each other and George
bowed, Ginny doing a mock curtsey with her robes. The crowd exploded. Kids
yelled and cheered and stamped their feet, clapping wildly. Ginny and George
turned to the audience and smiled and waved, the crowd enveloping them. Fred
fought his way up and said, "I knew I should have been the one to learn
swinging with Ginny! Good job, brother, and sister, by the way – that was much
better than anything I've seen." Ginny blushed and promised Fred she'd teach
him to swing – George offered but Fred politely declined, saying he wasn't the
kind of partner he felt right dancing with. George shrugged and was whisked off
by Alecia, who was squealing for him to teach her how to dance. Ginny heard his
lofty "It takes years, my dear, years to become as advanced as Ginny and
myself…though I well remember the day when I, too, was inexperienced and
gawky…how well I remember…" He sighed, extravagantly rolling his eyes and
winking at Ginny as he walked off. Ginny laughed, feeling her blood stop
rushing through her body, and began talking to Hermione, who was thrilled with
her dancing.
"That was great, Ginny!" Hermione squealed. "I read about swing
dancing, and it looked so fun, do you know if Ron can do it as well as you? Of
course, I'm only a beginner, but maybe I'd catch on fast…" Ginny nodded
absentmindedly, for her eyes had just been distracted by a glimpse of a
black-haired boy with bright green eyes staring amusedly at her. The band
started up again, another slow song, and the boy advanced.
Ginny's heart sped up again. Was what George had said earlier even
possibly true? She hoped not, then hoped so. Her insides were raging with
confusion as Harry stepped in front of her.
"Would you like to dance?" he asked in that slow, easy way of his.
Ginny smiled faintly, saying "Sure," and placed her arms around his neck. Harry
placed his hands on her waist. Ginny had never known her waist had that many
nerves, and they all seemed to be going haywire at Harry's touch. She moved one
hand from around his neck and pushed her hair back behind her ears, the
barrettes now sagging a little from her swing with George. Harry smiled down at
her.
"That was some dance," he said. His eyes sparkled. "I never knew you
could do that. But then, there's lots of things you can do that I don't know
about," he said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. Harry's eyes searched hers.
Ginny looked at him, confused.
"It sounds familiar," she said, frowning. She tried to remember.
"You said that at the Burrow, near the beginning of my stay with you
guys," Harry said thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to think that you were right."
"Yes, well…" Ginny faded. "You really don't know that much about me,
do you, Harry?" She was surprised. She had always felt she knew him so well…but
then, his story was in history books. And Ron talked about him nonstop. And
Hermione always mentioned him in letters. And…the list went on. But how much
did Harry really know about her?
"You know, I don't," Harry said sadly. "And I wish I did. You're a
very interesting person, Ginny." Ginny stared. Hadn't Justin said that same
thing to her, just a half-hour before? And Justin liked her…or did like
her. What did this mean?
"Thank you," she said cautiously. "So are you." Harry laughed. Ginny
looked puzzled.
"I don't even know if that's a compliment," Harry explained. "Most of
my 'interesting' comes from tragedy and death and suffering…" He looked
infinitely regretful. Ginny felt a sharp pain go through her heart.
"Don't feel so responsible," she ordered him. "You have had a bad
life, full of suffering and despair and death, but it wasn't your fault. It was
You-Know-Who. And I think you've done remarkably well for all your tendency to
attract trouble." Harry smiled, gazing down at her.
"Do me a favor, will you?" he asked her.
"Sure," Ginny said distantly. She was thinking about what it would
feel like to be kissed by Harry Potter.
"Say Voldemort," he said pointedly. Ginny turned her face back to his.
"Oh, I couldn't," she said, laughing nervously. "I'm so used to - "
"Dumbledore says fear of a name increases fear of a person," Harry
pressed. "Makes sense, really. If you're afraid to say a person's name, aren't
you afraid of them? Angering them?"
"There's lots of things people are afraid to say," Ginny returned.
"Certain people I know never can get around to saying what they really mean…or
what they really feel." She was shocked at her boldness, but really, she wasn't
lying! Harry's face turned an interesting shade of red, then quickly changed to
white, as if all the blood was rushing out of his toes. Ginny resisted the urge
to look down at his feet and held back a giggle. Harry cleared his throat.
"Ginny…I guess I deserved that." Ginny looked up, amazed. "I didn't
mean…" she started.
"And I know you probably think I'm an idiot for having waited this
long," Harry rushed on. "But I really couldn't help it, because I didn't know
what to say, and you're Ron's little sister, for crying out loud! How could I
admit to him that I liked you?"
Ginny was indignant. "Ron's little sister?" she seethed. "Just like
before start of term. I swear, you and Ron just don't realize that I'm growing
up and I'm not always going to be Ron's little - " She stopped, the rest of his
comment penetrating her brain.
"But that's just the thing," Harry said softly. "I do realize. And I'm
sorry I haven't gotten to know you better. And I'm especially sorry that I
didn't ask you to this ball, which, in my opinion, is more trouble than it's
worth." Ginny stood, her arms still around Harry's neck, both of them still
swaying to the song, which seemed to be everlasting.
"I don't know what to say," Ginny managed. "You were going to ask me
to the ball?"
Harry gave her a wry grin. "I was working up the courage when Cho
asked me. She felt bad because she turned me down last year. But right now
she's dancing with Terry, so - "
"Who's Terry?"
"Ravenclaw," Harry said impatiently by way of explanation. "Anyway, I
accepted her invitation, because I would have felt bad if I'd turned her down
when she only offered because she felt bad…"
"Nice little guilt circle you've got going there," Ginny commented.
Harry stared, then smiled. "You're right. I don't even really like her
anymore – except as a friend," he corrected himself. Ginny's heart leapt, then
fell. She remembered the dream from before term, and wondered why she had even
allowed herself to dance with Harry when she knew (or thought she knew) he was
in love with Hermione. Tears welled up in her brown eyes.
"I understand," she choked out. "You don't like Cho."
"Exactly." Harry looked relieved. "And what I started out to say was,
I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at the beginning of the year,
because -"
"Because you're in love with Hermione," Ginny whispered. Harry froze.
"What?"
The song ended. Ginny tore her arms from about Harry's neck and fled
the Hall, clattering down the stone steps to the castle and running, running.
She finally stopped beneath an old oak tree somewhere near the lake. The
moonlight glinting off the water gave the night a strange, smoky appearance.
A voice cut through the night. "Ginny! Ginny!" it called. Ginny
recognized it as Harry's voice. Why had he come after her?
She stood, her arms crossed, waiting for him to catch up with her.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N (I really love these): Please review! If you thought the swing was
stupid, so be it. I had fun. Next chapter will be nearing the end…
