Disclaimer: All characters, places, etc etc, belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews for Chapter One! :-)
Ginny lay in her bed that night with a terrible headache and a mind that refused to shut down and go to sleep. Harry had carried her all the way back to the house, where they had been met by a frantic Mrs Weasley setting out with a first-aid kit- she had seen Ginny's hand pointing to 'hurt' on the family clock. Ginny had been put to bed at once and cared for by her worried mother for the rest of the day. The boys had all come in to see her several times- including Harry. She blushed again as she remembered how her heart had jumped as he'd come through the door.
"Hey, Ginny! Are you feeling any better?" he'd asked, coming to stand by her bed. Ginny had nodded, willing the hot feeling in her cheeks to disappear. She'd lost any battle with the blushing when Harry had actually sat next to her on the bed. Harry Potter is sitting on my bed, she'd thought. We are alone in my bedroom.
Harry had then reached out and gently smoothed the hair away from one side of her face to examine her bruise, his eyes full of concern- brotherly concern, she'd reminded herself. Brotherly concern. Ginny had stayed completely still until his hand had left her face.
After a minute, he'd gotten to his feet again.
"Well, see you later. I hope you feel better soon." And he'd left.
Now, alone in her dark room as the rest of the house slept, Ginny reached up with one hand, resting it on the place where Harry had touched. She sighed, then pushed away the covers and sat up, slowly, wincing as her head throbbed painfully. She slid one hand under her mattress, pulled out her diary and went to sit by the window, where she could see by the bright moonlight that streamed into her room through the open curtains.
She opened her diary, dipped her quill into a pot of green ink, and began to write.
Dear Diary,
Something terrible, but good at the same time happened today. Firstly,
Harry turned up at breakfast time. He's here for the two weeks until school goes
back. That was good, but as usual I can't stop blushing and making a fool of
myself. I must look like I'm on fire, permanently, with my red hair and red
face.
Anyway, after breakfast we all went outside to do some flying, and Harry
let me have a go on his Firebolt. It was wonderful, Diary, but then, as I was
descending, he smiled at me in such a lovely way that I got all dizzy and fell
off the broomstick. I hit my head on the ground, and it still hurts, even though
Mum's given me all sorts of potions for it. I must have looked like such an
idiot, Diary! Here's Harry Potter, Seeker for Gryffindor, best flier in the
whole school, and here's Ginny Weasley, who can't even stay on a broomstick! But
when I woke up, Harry was holding me, and I've never felt safer in my life,
Diary. He carried me back to the house, too, and came to visit me in my room. He
actually put his hand on my face, and brushed my hair away, to look at the
bruise.
I'm so stupid, Diary! So stupid! Why can't I ever stop thinking about
Harry? I'm sure he knows- well, he thinks I've got some silly little crush on
the Great Harry Potter, that's for sure. And at first, it was that. But now, now
it's a lot deeper. I just want to be with Harry, and make him smile, and have
him make me smile. It's not fair, Diary. There are so many reasons why I should
stop liking him- loving him. For one thing, he likes Cho Chang. She's so pretty,
and smart. And she can fly. Not like me. I know Cho is very upset over Cedric's
death, but in time, I can just see her falling for Harry. Why wouldn't
she?
And then there's Ron. Ron is Harry's best friend, and he'd be so angry at
Harry if anything happened. Ron- like all my brothers- is so protective of me.
And that's what Harry is! Protective, in a brotherly way! It's not fair!
I like having him here, but I always make such an idiot of myself and in a way
it's much easier being at school, where I can just watch him from a distance.
But this is stupid, Diary- you know all of this already. I've written it
a thousand times before. So I'm going to try and go to sleep.
Love, Ginny.
PS I want to tell him how I feel. But I won't. I won't. It would just
embarrass us both.
Ginny sighed and closed her diary, but she continued to sit by the window, gazing out at the night. She sat there for perhaps half an hour before she crawled beneath her blankets again and closed her eyes. Tears shone on her cheeks in the moonlight, but she wiped them away and pulled the covers over her head.
***
The next morning, Ginny went down to breakfast early to find the kitchen empty of everyone but her mother.
"Hi, Mum," she said quietly, sitting down at the table. Her mother turned from the sink, holding her wand.
"Good morning, darling. How are you feeling?" Mrs Weasley asked, crossing the kitchen to examine her daughter.
"Better. It still hurts, but only a little,"
"Yes, I think you're all right now. That bruise should fade soon. You were very lucky, Ginny. It would be best, I think, not to go on the Firebolt again. It was probably a little too fast after Ron's Shooting Star."
"Yes." Ginny accepted a glass of water from her mother.
"You're up early this morning," Mrs Weasley said, returning to the sink.
"I didn't sleep very well last night," Ginny said. Her mother opened the cupboard with a flick of her wand and summoned a stack of bowls. Flicking her wand again, she set the bowls out on the table and began to ladle porridge into them.
Ginny heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, Harry and Ron clattered into the kitchen. Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny owl, was perched on Ron's shoulder, hooting happily.
"Oh, hi Gin!" Ron said. "Feeling better?" He grabbed a bowl of porridge and sat down at the table.
"Yeah, how are you feeling?" Harry asked.
"Better," Ginny murmured, looking at the table. With a flurry of small wings, Pigwidgeon landed on her shoulder and began nibbling at her ear. "Ow! Stop it, Pigwidgeon!" she said. He jumped up and down with excitement, hooting loudly.
"Why is he so excited this morning?" Harry asked, spooning porridge into his mouth. Ron shrugged as Mrs Weasley left the kitchen to call the others to breakfast.
"Dunno. Maybe he's got too much energy. I haven't sent him with a letter for ages. He's being punished for clawing my Chudley Cannons hat. I guess the punishment's gone on long enough, though."
"Send him with one to Hermione," Harry suggested. "Maybe she can meet us at Diagon Alley next week."
"I- I've been writing to her," Ron said, his face turning pink. "But I've been using Errol. Since Pig was being punished and Percy took Hermes with him, I had to use that useless old featherbag."
"It's Pigwidgeon, Ron!" Ginny said. "Not Pig!"
"Whatever," Ron said. Pigwidgeon flew back to his shoulder and hooted into his ear.
At that moment, something grey flew through the window and landed in Ron's bowl of porridge, spattering his face and hair. Ron swore, wiping porridge off his face with one hand and pulling Errol, the Weasley's old owl, out of his bowl with the other.
"He's got a letter from Hermione," he said, pulling a soggy piece of parchment off Errol's leg and dropping the unconscious owl on the table. He wiped the parchment on a dishcloth and opened it, as Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen again, followed by her husband and the twins. Mr Weasley gave a hurried good morning to the others, kissed his wife and left.
"Where's Dad going?" Ginny asked.
"The Ministry," Mrs Weasley sighed, pouring Mr Weasley's porridge into Errol's food tray and putting the tray and the owl into the cage that stood in one corner of the kitchen. "Apparently Dedalus Diggle's been messing about with Muggle artefacts again- your father's going to be very busy this morning." She sighed again before sitting down to eat her own breakfast.
Ron put down Hermione's letter and looked up.
"Hermione's going to meet us at Diagon Alley next Friday," he reported.
"So did she end up visiting Krum, or not?" Harry asked. Ginny watched as he absent-mindedly ran a hand through his hair. Again, she had an urge to tidy it for him.
"Um, no," Ron said.. "She- she decided not to."
Ginny smiled to herself as he blushed again. Perhaps Ron was finally accepting that his feelings for Hermione went slighter deeper than those of friendship. She'd secretly thought so for a long time.
She glanced at Harry again. If only he would feel that way about her…
"Right," Mrs Weasley said once breakfast had been cleared away. "Why don't you lot go and pick some blackberries this morning? It's a lovely day. I want to make some apple and blackberry pies."
"Yum!" Ron got to his feet. "What do you say, Harry?"
"Count me in," Harry said, grinning. "Sounds like fun."
"Just wait 'till you taste Mum's pie…" Ron moaned and rubbed his stomach. "You coming, Ginny?"
"All right," She didn't have anything better to do, after all. She'd just have to concentrate extra hard not to make a fool of herself in front of Harry again.
"Well, the pies sound good, but we're busy this morning," George said. "Working on something up in our room."
"Yeah, see you guys later." Fred said, getting up. Mrs Weasley looked faintly suspicious, but she let them go without questions.
"All right, then," she said, pulling three buckets from a cupboard. "Harry and Ron, I want you to keep an eye on Ginny."
"Mum!" Ginny said, embarrassed. "I'm okay now!"
"Well, be that as it may, but you did have a nasty bump and I don't want you getting too tired. All right, boys?"
Harry and Ron nodded, each taking a bucket, and soon the three of them were setting out across the common, the early morning sun warm upon their backs. Before too long, they came to a large blackberry patch and began picking, avoiding the long, thorny brambles as best they could.
"Mmm…" Harry popped a juicy berry into his mouth, closing his eyes. "These are good." Ginny watched him, smiling, until he opened his eyes again and caught her gaze. He smiled, but she quickly tore her eyes away and continued picking.
"Put some in the bucket, Potter!" Ron grinned, tossing a berry at Harry. It bounced off his forehead, leaving a purple juice-mark behind.
"Hey!" Harry threw a berry at Ron, striking him in the nose. The two began hurling berries at each other. Ginny squealed and backed away.
"Stop it, you two, stop it, you're wasting all the berries!" she shouted, as a wet purple handful landed in Ron's hair. They ignored her and continued throwing berries at each other, laughing and shouting false insults. Their faces were almost completely purple with berry juice.
"Stop it!" Ginny repeated. "You're wasting them all!"
"Oh, there's plenty more, Gin!" Ron shouted, and with that he threw a handful directly at Ginny. The handful hit her directly in the face, and she screamed, stumbled, and nearly.
"I'll get
you for that, Ronald Weasley!"
"Oh, no you won't, Virginia!" Ron roared, and Ginny realised that the boys had ceased throwing berries at each other and were now advancing towards her menacingly, their hands full of pulpy purple goo. Ginny screamed and turned to run. Harry and Ron chased her, pelting her with berries. They were much faster than she, and before long Ron caught the back of her top and forced her to a halt. The boys exchanged grins and simultaneously rubbed their remaining berries into Ginny's hair. Then they doubled up with laughter. Ginny wiped purple juice from her face and pushed Ron, hard. He crashed into Harry and they both fell to the ground, still laughing.
"Oh, this is disgusting!" Ginny said, trying unsuccessfully to pick bits of blackberry out of her hair. "Mum's going to be very cross, you know."
This seemed to sober the boys slightly, and they both managed to get to their feet. Harry took off his glasses and tried to find a clean patch on his jumper to wipe them on.
"Come on," Ron said, his teeth gleaming whitely in his purple face. "We'd better keep picking." He tipped the contents of Harry's and Ginny's buckets into his own, which nearly filled it, and picked it up. "I'm going to run this back to the house so Mum can get started on her pies!" He smiled in blissful anticipation.
"But what'll Mum say when she sees you?" Ginny asked.
"She won't," Ron said. "I'll leave it on the doorstep and knock on the door." He set off, briskly.
Ginny felt very self-conscious, aware that she and Harry were now alone. She began to pick blackberries quickly. Harry did the same, and for a moment they worked silently.
"Well, that was pretty fun, wasn't it?" Harry said after a moment, breaking the silence. "I can't say I've ever had a blackberry fight before."
"Me neither," Ginny said, dropping several berries into her bucket. "I feel very sticky, though."
"Yeah, me too." Harry looked up, and reached out his hand. "Hang on- you've got a huge clump of berry stuck in your hair." Ginny stood very still as Harry gently picked the clump out. "You're all purple," he smiled.
"So are you." She noticed a chunk of blackberry sticking to his forehead. Harry noticed where she was looking and smiled.
"What? Do I have a clump, too?"
"Yes."
"Can you get it out for me?"
"All right."
Ginny's hand trembled slightly as she reached out and removed the berry. It was stuck right over his lightening-shaped scar. She started to draw her hand away, but suddenly Harry's hand came up and caught her own. She stared at him in shock. He looked right back at her, his eyes very green in his purple-streaked face as he slowly lowered their joined hands. He did not let go, and Ginny trembled. What was happening? Before she knew what was she was doing, her tongue had moved of its own accord and words were coming from her mouth.
"Harry," she breathed. "I- I have to tell you something."
"What?" he said, softly, the expression on his face unreadable. Ginny was filled with sudden terror. What if- what if she was just misunderstanding this all? Was she about to tell Harry that she loved him? What if he just- turned away, or laughed it off, or something equally horrible? She couldn't do this. He didn't return the feeling. She knew that. But why is he holding your hand? a little voice whispered. She ignored it.
Ginny pulled her hand away from his.
"Nothing." she said, turning away. "It doesn't matter."
"Ginny…" he said.
"It doesn't matter," she repeated, glad he could not see her face, which was burning red. She began picking berries again, and a moment later Harry did the same.
A/N Don't you just love cliffhangers? I know, I know. I'll get Chapter Three up as soon as I can. Keep those reviews coming!