Ginny tugged on the hem of her muggle dress. She usually wore robes at
home, so she was unused to not having the heavy fabric swishing around her
ankles.
"Are you sure this isn't too short?" she asked nervously.
"Ginny, that dress falls to your knees. You could wear it to a church." Hermione said impatiently. She was wearing denim jeans and a fluffy brown sweater. Her bushy brown hair was almost contained in a braid.
Ginny was wearing a summery, short sleeved, forest green dress that she had borrowed from Hermione.
"Can we go now?" Hermione asked. "The guys have been waiting for fifteen minutes."
Harry and Ron stood by the fireplace, chatting. Ginny paused for a second in the doorway, watching them.
They were both smiling, but their expressions looked very forced. Harry's arms were folded, and his stance was standoffish.
From where Ginny was standing, the scene looked very awkward.
"Hermione!" Ron called, sounding relieved. He quickly crossed the room and took her hand. "You look great."
Harry joined them. "Lets go." He said quickly. He took Ginny's arm and smiled at her. His green eyes were filled with anticipation and excitement. She allowed herself to be pulled along, puzzled by his eagerness.
Harry fidgeted impatiently. His left hand twitched as they sat, staring into the crowd of students.
"Let's go outside." He suggested.
"Outside?" Ginny asked nervously. "We only just got here. Why don't we dance?"
"Fine." He agreed with a sigh. "Then can we go outside?"
He took her hands, but stood as far away from her as possible as they moved into the crush of dancing students.
"Hey, Neville!" a Slytherin called. "That's a clown suit you're wearing!"
Neville looked down at his canary yellow outfit. "What do you mean? I found it at this great muggle clothing shop-"
"Was it a costume shop Neville?" Hermione asked, dragging Ron over to dance near Ginny and Harry.
"Alright, we've danced. Can we go outside now?" Harry asked.
"When did you go all sleazy, Harry?" Hermione asked, yelling over the music that was suddenly turned up.
"Do I have to remind you that she is my sister?" Ron shouted.
Harry rolled his eyes and dragged Ginny out of the crowd, towards the exit.
They passed several lovestruck couples, meandering hand in hand in the gardens, or kissing under the trees. Harry hauled her along impatiently, leading her away from the lit areas, until the music of the dance faded into the background.
"Harry!" she pleaded. "Is it really necessary to be miles away from everyone? I can't walk much farther." She was wearing black high-heeled sandals, and her feet ached.
"Yes. It's necessary." He pulled her off the path, into a small walled garden.
"Harry, you're scaring me."
"That's the point." He suddenly turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. He pushed her backwards, pressing her back against the cool bricks of a wall.
"Harry, please." She whispered. "This isn't funny. I want to go back to the dance."
"No." He freed her right shoulder, but continued the pressure on her left, pinning her to the wall. He pulled his wand out of the back pocket of his pants, and held it underneath her chin.
"That's not your wand, Harry." She whispered, her knees trembling.
He moved the wand, sliding the tip up the side of her face. He gently stroked her cheek with it. The movement would have been tender, if there hadn't been a glow of evil glee in his eyes.
"You're not Harry." She said, her voice trembling at the feel of the wand against her skin.
He jabbed it suddenly into her cheek. She cried out at the sharp pain in her jaw. "You're a bright one. Yes, you're right. I'm not your beloved Harry. Now, how about you use the last few moments of your life to bring joy to my old heart. Prove to me that these years I have spent drilling Potions into your feeble mind have not been wasted. Tell me, little weasel, how could I make myself look exactly like Harry Potter?"
He jabbed her jaw with the wand again. "I don't know." She said.
"Come on! Think! You know the answer! I'll make you a deal. You answer correctly, and I'll consider not killing you."
She closed her eyes. There was not gentleness in the touch of the wand now. He drove it into the already painful flesh of her cheek. She pushed her panicked mind, thinking back to all the Potions lessons, to textbooks and notes and Snape's lectures. "It starts with P." she said. The potion was on the tip of her tongue. "Its Pol- Poly-" she began to cry, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Polyjuice!" she shouted.
She opened her eyes. He nodded slowly. Relief washed over her. She was right.
He stabbed at her cheek with the wand again.
"You said you wouldn't kill me if I got it right!" she said.
He shook his head. "I said I would consider not killing you. I've considered it, and I'm still going to kill you."
"Why the Polyjuice?" she asked desperately, praying to whoever was listening to spare her life. "Why pretend to be Harry? Why not just kill me as yourself, instead of going to all this trouble?" she tried to stall him.
It made her shudder to see that evil look on Harry's face. "Oh, there are so many reasons to do it this way. But it's mainly because I just love the romantic irony of it. I've been watching you kids. Being asked out by Potter is the one and only thing you think about. To finally have it happen, only for it to turn out like this." He cackled. "Another reason, just as sweet, is that more than a hundred witnesses last saw Ginny Weasley alive leaving the dance with Harry Potter. You die, harry Potter gets sent to Azkhaban for murder. Two problems gone in one go."
He stepped back and held out the wand at chest height. "I'm sick of talking to you now." He closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Ginny began to sob in terror.
"Adavra-"
"Harry, you idiot!" Ron called. "What are you playing at? Even pretending to use that curse can get you sent to Azkhaban." He and Hermione entered the garden, arm in arm.
"I assure you, this is no joke." The person who looked like Harry said.
"That's not Harry." Ginny informed them.
The wand was raised again, this time pointed at Hermione and Ron. "Well, this presents a problem. Killing all three of you isn't really an option."
"You could let us go." Hermione suggested.
"I think not."
"Are you sure this isn't too short?" she asked nervously.
"Ginny, that dress falls to your knees. You could wear it to a church." Hermione said impatiently. She was wearing denim jeans and a fluffy brown sweater. Her bushy brown hair was almost contained in a braid.
Ginny was wearing a summery, short sleeved, forest green dress that she had borrowed from Hermione.
"Can we go now?" Hermione asked. "The guys have been waiting for fifteen minutes."
Harry and Ron stood by the fireplace, chatting. Ginny paused for a second in the doorway, watching them.
They were both smiling, but their expressions looked very forced. Harry's arms were folded, and his stance was standoffish.
From where Ginny was standing, the scene looked very awkward.
"Hermione!" Ron called, sounding relieved. He quickly crossed the room and took her hand. "You look great."
Harry joined them. "Lets go." He said quickly. He took Ginny's arm and smiled at her. His green eyes were filled with anticipation and excitement. She allowed herself to be pulled along, puzzled by his eagerness.
Harry fidgeted impatiently. His left hand twitched as they sat, staring into the crowd of students.
"Let's go outside." He suggested.
"Outside?" Ginny asked nervously. "We only just got here. Why don't we dance?"
"Fine." He agreed with a sigh. "Then can we go outside?"
He took her hands, but stood as far away from her as possible as they moved into the crush of dancing students.
"Hey, Neville!" a Slytherin called. "That's a clown suit you're wearing!"
Neville looked down at his canary yellow outfit. "What do you mean? I found it at this great muggle clothing shop-"
"Was it a costume shop Neville?" Hermione asked, dragging Ron over to dance near Ginny and Harry.
"Alright, we've danced. Can we go outside now?" Harry asked.
"When did you go all sleazy, Harry?" Hermione asked, yelling over the music that was suddenly turned up.
"Do I have to remind you that she is my sister?" Ron shouted.
Harry rolled his eyes and dragged Ginny out of the crowd, towards the exit.
They passed several lovestruck couples, meandering hand in hand in the gardens, or kissing under the trees. Harry hauled her along impatiently, leading her away from the lit areas, until the music of the dance faded into the background.
"Harry!" she pleaded. "Is it really necessary to be miles away from everyone? I can't walk much farther." She was wearing black high-heeled sandals, and her feet ached.
"Yes. It's necessary." He pulled her off the path, into a small walled garden.
"Harry, you're scaring me."
"That's the point." He suddenly turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. He pushed her backwards, pressing her back against the cool bricks of a wall.
"Harry, please." She whispered. "This isn't funny. I want to go back to the dance."
"No." He freed her right shoulder, but continued the pressure on her left, pinning her to the wall. He pulled his wand out of the back pocket of his pants, and held it underneath her chin.
"That's not your wand, Harry." She whispered, her knees trembling.
He moved the wand, sliding the tip up the side of her face. He gently stroked her cheek with it. The movement would have been tender, if there hadn't been a glow of evil glee in his eyes.
"You're not Harry." She said, her voice trembling at the feel of the wand against her skin.
He jabbed it suddenly into her cheek. She cried out at the sharp pain in her jaw. "You're a bright one. Yes, you're right. I'm not your beloved Harry. Now, how about you use the last few moments of your life to bring joy to my old heart. Prove to me that these years I have spent drilling Potions into your feeble mind have not been wasted. Tell me, little weasel, how could I make myself look exactly like Harry Potter?"
He jabbed her jaw with the wand again. "I don't know." She said.
"Come on! Think! You know the answer! I'll make you a deal. You answer correctly, and I'll consider not killing you."
She closed her eyes. There was not gentleness in the touch of the wand now. He drove it into the already painful flesh of her cheek. She pushed her panicked mind, thinking back to all the Potions lessons, to textbooks and notes and Snape's lectures. "It starts with P." she said. The potion was on the tip of her tongue. "Its Pol- Poly-" she began to cry, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Polyjuice!" she shouted.
She opened her eyes. He nodded slowly. Relief washed over her. She was right.
He stabbed at her cheek with the wand again.
"You said you wouldn't kill me if I got it right!" she said.
He shook his head. "I said I would consider not killing you. I've considered it, and I'm still going to kill you."
"Why the Polyjuice?" she asked desperately, praying to whoever was listening to spare her life. "Why pretend to be Harry? Why not just kill me as yourself, instead of going to all this trouble?" she tried to stall him.
It made her shudder to see that evil look on Harry's face. "Oh, there are so many reasons to do it this way. But it's mainly because I just love the romantic irony of it. I've been watching you kids. Being asked out by Potter is the one and only thing you think about. To finally have it happen, only for it to turn out like this." He cackled. "Another reason, just as sweet, is that more than a hundred witnesses last saw Ginny Weasley alive leaving the dance with Harry Potter. You die, harry Potter gets sent to Azkhaban for murder. Two problems gone in one go."
He stepped back and held out the wand at chest height. "I'm sick of talking to you now." He closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Ginny began to sob in terror.
"Adavra-"
"Harry, you idiot!" Ron called. "What are you playing at? Even pretending to use that curse can get you sent to Azkhaban." He and Hermione entered the garden, arm in arm.
"I assure you, this is no joke." The person who looked like Harry said.
"That's not Harry." Ginny informed them.
The wand was raised again, this time pointed at Hermione and Ron. "Well, this presents a problem. Killing all three of you isn't really an option."
"You could let us go." Hermione suggested.
"I think not."