A/N: I have revised Ginny's rant because after all that hype about how
great she was and how she could express herself well, she ends up coming
off… just hideously. That was all my fault, I'm sorry. So I think this
one's better. I'll get the next chapter out when I can, but I have some
wonderful ideas for a D/G fic (2 D/G fics actually) that keep getting in
the way. The fixed section is marked at the beginning and end by ******.
Ok, kids, have fun!
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ginny asked, stepping into the room a little more. Harry looked around franticly, as if the walls would provide an answer or a way out.
"I-I thought you were- were at…" The words were catching in Harry's throat, refusing to come out.
"Liz wasn't home, so I just came back. Harry, why are you in my room?"
He had to say something, even though the thought of bolting out the door and not stopping till he never had to see Ginny again seem very appealing. Say something, his brained screamed. Say something, anything- just stall!
"I- I didn't know you had a piano." Harry cringed as soon as the words had left his mouth. She looked at him as though he were mad, but answered all the same.
"Yeah, it, um… it was my great-aunt's." She waited for him to explain himself. When he didn't, she shook her head, looking very, very confused. "Harry, what are you doing in my room?"
He tried to answer, anything that seemed plausible, but the only thing that came out of his mouth when he opened it were some odd strangled noises. And then Ginny caught sight of what he held in his hands.
Her face went very pale, and then her cheeks turned dark red. She stood there for a moment, not saying anything, until she raised a shaking hand and pointed at the book. "Harry," she was trying very hard to keep her voice calm and steady. "Is that my notebook?" Harry managed a slight nod, his mouth going very dry. "Were you-" her voice cracked slightly, "Were you reading my notebook?" Again, Harry nodded. She walked over to where he stood, taking the notebook from his hands to see which page he had been reading. When she saw what it was, she turned and looked up at him.
Her eyes were filled with embarrassment, and hurt, but there was something else there that Harry couldn't quite name. "You would do that? You read that?" she whispered, trying to keep a hold of her emotions. Disappointment- that was what else was in her eyes. He felt his face burn with shame; it felt like this was the worst thing he had ever done, and maybe it was. But before he could tell her how sorry he was, or how he thought he understood and she really didn't need to be embarrassed at all, he felt his face burning with something quite different than shame.
CRACK!! His eyes closed and he recoiled slightly at the feel of her hand coming in contact with his cheek. He opened his eyes after the first wave of pain subsided slightly to see her seething in rage, her arm still out and over her chest from the hit. Ginny had slapped him! That certainly wasn't what he was expecting. That was anger in her eyes, not embarrassment. He wanted to groan out loud; how thick was he? Here she was, right in front of him, and he still couldn't tell what she was thinking or feeling.
"Ginny, I'm-" he was cut of by her screaming.
"Get OUT!"
"Really, I-"
"I said, GET OUT!" she cried. He might have been sorry beyond belief, but he wasn't suicidal. He left, very gladly.
The door slammed behind him and he leaned against it. How could he have done this? It wasn't supposed to happen like this, he just want to know what she had been writing. And now, just when he had found out that she was pretty cool, and way deeper than the ever thought she was- probably way deeper than he was- he had done something to screw it all up. She hated him now- he would hate himself in her position. He groaned. He had thought she was embarrassed, couldn't even tell she was angry. She had every right to be angry, he decided quickly. It would have been wrong for her to be embarrassed.
Suddenly there was an enormous crash from inside her room. It sounded as if she might have fallen down. Without thinking, only wanting to make sure she was alright, Harry opened the door and stuck his head in.
"Ginny, are you ok?" he asked. He saw what made the noise. She had thrown a little vase he hadn't noticed before against the wall, flowers and all. The water tricked down a poster of Le Arc de Triumph and bits of stem clung to it. Ginny stood there, breathing very heavily, looking as though she had run a mile. Yet again, here was another side of her Harry never knew she had. Would it never end?
"Gin I thought-" before he could finish, something was coming towards him. He ducked and the object whizzed right over his head. He turned around to see what it was she threw only to get hit in the back of the head. He let out a yelp of pain; what was she throwing?
"Gin, what's going on?" Ron was pushing the door open all the way, Hermione behind him looking around at the few broken trinkets in the hallway. It figures that they'd show up now, Harry thought. It had to be this particular moment, didn't it?
"ASK him what he did, Ron!" Ginny screamed, pointing at Harry. "Go on, ask you're BLOODY FRIEND what the hell he did!"
Ron turned to look at Harry, his eyes wide with shock. Before Harry could say anything, Ron pulled him into the hallway, slamming Ginny's door, and dragged him by his t-shirt to his room. He roughly flung him down on one of the beds and began pacing in front of him. Hermione stood in the doorway and watched, obviously not wanting to get in the middle of this.
"Now," Ron began, in a very loud voice. "I don't know what you did, but Ginny only ever throws things at me, so I have some sort of idea. And she only ever swears at the twins, so I have an even better idea. But I want to you say it; I want you to tell me exactly what you did. NOW!" At that moment, Harry couldn't imagine Ron's face ever being redder, no matter what Ginny had written about Hermione's owl or whatever the twins did, but he tried very hard to focus on the matter at hand and not on the color of Ron's face, or the fact that he would probably be dead after Ron found out what he had done.
So, despite the impending death sentence, or, if he was lucky, just a brutal beating, he told Ron what had happened. He told him everything, the absolute truth- it was the least he could do after committing such a crime. Ron listen to the short story without interrupting, his footsteps getting harder and harder. When Harry had finished, Ron stopped pacing and stood there for a moment. Then, he ran out the door and barreled up the steps to the attic.
"What's he doing?" Harry asked Hermione, who was still standing silently in the doorway.
"I have no idea," she said, looking up at the ceiling. They could hear Ron above them, it sounded like he was moving things. She looked back down at Harry. "I can't believe you did that, Harry. That wasn't fair to go through her thoughts and things like that." She was disappointed with him, too. Harry decided he would give anything to suddenly disappear. Hermione sighed. "You are so incredibly lucky that I owe Ginny one. I'm going to go make sure she's alright." Harry put his head in his hands as Hermione left. What on Earth was he going to do?
He wasn't left much time to wonder, however, because Ron was soon back, though covered in dust, and now he was holding something in his hands. It was an old book, magically bound and almost falling apart. Harry instantly knew what it was.
"This, is the Older Brother Handbook," Ron said, comfirming Harry's fears. "It is the law of all things, well, older brother. There's a whole section for things like this, right under Ginny and the Bathroom rules."
"You have rules about Ginny and the bathroom?" Harry asked incredulously. Ron answered, temporarily forgetting he was mad at he friend.
"Jesus, none of us want to walk in on her!" he said, looking horrified at the idea. "It hasn't happened yet, and it's thanks to those rules. But the point is, according to this, you would never be allowed to visit here again, be stopped from any further communication with Ginny, and be somewhere around Malfoy on the people I like list." Harry was about to protest, but Ron held up his free hand. "Hold on a sec, let me finish. You are very, very lucky that you've saved my life multiple times and that Neville wouldn't make much of a best friend. For those reasons, and those reasons only, are you allowed to live. But you better do something bloody spectacular to fix all this."
"That's just the problem!" Harry cried. "I don't know what I could possible do to make it up to her!" Ron was about to say something when Ginny stood in the doorway, holding her notebook and trying to push her hair out of her face.
"Here!" she screamed as she threw the notebook at Harry. He caught it- it helped to be a Seeker- and managed to save an ear. Where had she developed such aim? "You're probably going to read it anyway!!" And she stormed out.
Harry knew he should go after her, be the Prince to her Cinderella, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't know what he would say, and he figured not saying anything at this point would be the wisest thing to do. Instead, he looked down at the notebook, not quite sure what to do with it. Flipping through it, he saw that there was a little more written there than there was previously. He began to read.
******"I have never in my life been more upset," she wrote. This is not going to be good, Harry thought, but he bravely read on. "Harry, the boy I've idolized and loved and admired for years- years mind you- has managed to make me madder than I've ever felt in my entire life! God, how does he do that? It's never in the middle with that boy, is it? It's always an extreme emotion. Complete devotion or utter fury- never just, "Eh, it's Harry, I don't care." NEVER! Can't I just be normal and get over it? Nope, it's time for Ginny's Emotional Roller Coaster time!" Hmm, Harry didn't know she knew what a roller coaster was.
"That makes me sound insane, but I'm not the one from the problem, he is! Who does he think he is, that he can just waltz in and read everything I've written about him? Well he can't! Oh God… how much did he read? Where on Earth did he find you anyway? I looked everywhere and- wait a second… What if he had you all day? I mean, he was acting really weird before and freaked out when I asked if anyone had seen you- he DID have you, didn't he?" Harry had really been hoping she wouldn't figure that out. "That- that wanker! Oh, I'm glad I threw those things at him now!
"Just *who* does he think he his?! Everyone knows not to read anything I write; I even made them add it to the Older Brother Handbook," Harry was beginning to hate that book, "I was so sure Ron would have told Harry about it already. I seem to be the only one in the world who doesn't consider Harry another of my brothers. But next time I see him- I swear…
"Who am I kidding? I'll never be able to look at him again without thinking 'I wonder what he thinks of me? Is he thinking about what I wrote? Does he pity me? Does he think I'm silly, or pathetic, or stupid even?' Oh, how am I ever going to live with that?"
"But you know what? Someone once said (I'm not sure who) 'No one can make you feel inferior without your permission,' or something like that. So, I am not giving Harry, someone who's never given me the time of day, my permission. He will NOT make me feel anything bad, because there's no reason for me too. Everything I wrote, I felt. Everything he read, I meant. (And that includes everything here, because I've already decided to give this to him. I think I'll throw it, that'll make me feel better.)"
Well, Harry thought, at least she's true to her word. He hoped it had made her feel better, because if it did, he suddenly didn't mind having things thrown at him.
"I'm going to go give this to him and then I'm going to kick Hermione out of here. She's being really sweet, telling me she's sure Harry never meant to read this (pfft!) but I need to take everything out on the piano. I pity the keys; they shall soon be beaten to death. (Another thing, what the heck was that about the piano? That's the only thing he could think of? Idiot!)"
Harry needed to do something to tell her that he never wanted to make her feel bad, he had only been a little curious about her. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was pretty extraordinary, and much more than he had ever thought she was. (He may not be in love with her, or be able to return all her feelings, but he did respect her, and now he admired her more than he ever had.)******
The only problem was how to do it; sure it sounded ok in his head, but he doubted he could ever say what he really meant to her in person, that's saying, if she would ever give him the chance.
"What happened?" Harry looked up to see Hermione entering the room.
"She threw the thing at Harry," Ron said. "Not that I blame her." Hermione shook her head.
"She kicked me out so she could play," she said. Sure enough, not a moment after she had said it, the air was filled with the opening notes of Moonlight Sonata. Ginny seemed to be putting all her anger in to keys, making them ring out her frustration.
Ron left out a long, low whistle. "Boy is she mad. I can't remember the last time she played like that."
"Why have I never heard her play?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged.
"She plays all the time," he said. "She just always has mom put a silencing charm on her room when there are guests over, I guess she was too upset to bother now. Doesn't like to play for an audience much."
"That's why I'm in here and not with her," Hermione added. Harry fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
"I'm never going to be able to make it up to her," he groaned. "I mean it, she'll never talk to me again." He paused. "Not that she ever talked to me in the first place." He expected Ron to say something then, but his complaint was met with silence. "Guys?" Still silence. He propped himself up on his elbows, only to see that Ron and Hermione had left. Great, he thought. His eyes traveled the room and rested for a moment on the notebook as Ginny ended Moonlight Sonata by pushing her hands flat across the keys, creating an eerie, off key echo. Harry had done that before; his primary school had a nice music teacher one year who let him bang on the piano a little.
She soon started a slow, sad tune, almost jazz. This time, her voice accompanied the piano.
"It a quarter to three," she sang slowly. She did have a beautiful singing voice. It was lower than Harry expected it to be, but it was nice. "There's no one in the place, 'cept you and me. So set 'em up Joe," her voice raised a little, "I gotta story I think you outta know." The notes were getting calmer and calmer. "We're drinking my friend, to the end, of a brief episode. So make it one for my baby, and one more for the road." That was one of the songs she had written on her notebook, the one just left of Harry's side.
A thought struck Harry then. That was it, of course! He would write everything he felt out. That way, she would be sure to understand; that way, he wouldn't make a fool of himself. He was sure she'd read it. There was no other way- that notebook got him into this mess, it was going to get him out of it. The only problem… what would he write?
*** Ginny's revised rant- The quote she gave was "Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent," and it was from Eleanor Roosevelt, but I couldn't imagine Ginny knowing that, or at least remembering it. So, I feel so much better about that rant than the first. The first was pathetic- this one's infinitely better. I'm still working on Harry's response. Like Ron said, it has to be spectacular… or at the very lest make sense, which it isn't right now. I'll post it as soon as I get it right. Thanks for all the reviews. I'll name people next chapter.***
This took forever to write, I'm not sure why. I spent the whole story dying to get to this point, and then I just stared at the screen forever, not sure what Ginny should write. Oh well, my reviewers (25? Wow!):
Arien, IcantBELIEVEitsNOTbutter, erin, Princess or Mordor, Tiny Teddy, Beccy (I'm SO glad you got that! That was the whole point of this fic; these things don't just happen overnight! If Harry was harboring a crush on Ginny, wouldn't we know already?), Mystic-Maiden aka Miyako, Omlettes (I loved the clock poem!), Genesis, ShellyK (Thanks for the idea about the handbook, I hadn't even thought about it till you mentioned it. I threw that comment in last minute anyway.), and of course, Julie.
I also have some poems on my name that I'm shamelessly plugging. (I have no reason to be ashamed, it's how I feel! Lol) If anybody wants to check them out, I'd really be grateful. Thanks!
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ginny asked, stepping into the room a little more. Harry looked around franticly, as if the walls would provide an answer or a way out.
"I-I thought you were- were at…" The words were catching in Harry's throat, refusing to come out.
"Liz wasn't home, so I just came back. Harry, why are you in my room?"
He had to say something, even though the thought of bolting out the door and not stopping till he never had to see Ginny again seem very appealing. Say something, his brained screamed. Say something, anything- just stall!
"I- I didn't know you had a piano." Harry cringed as soon as the words had left his mouth. She looked at him as though he were mad, but answered all the same.
"Yeah, it, um… it was my great-aunt's." She waited for him to explain himself. When he didn't, she shook her head, looking very, very confused. "Harry, what are you doing in my room?"
He tried to answer, anything that seemed plausible, but the only thing that came out of his mouth when he opened it were some odd strangled noises. And then Ginny caught sight of what he held in his hands.
Her face went very pale, and then her cheeks turned dark red. She stood there for a moment, not saying anything, until she raised a shaking hand and pointed at the book. "Harry," she was trying very hard to keep her voice calm and steady. "Is that my notebook?" Harry managed a slight nod, his mouth going very dry. "Were you-" her voice cracked slightly, "Were you reading my notebook?" Again, Harry nodded. She walked over to where he stood, taking the notebook from his hands to see which page he had been reading. When she saw what it was, she turned and looked up at him.
Her eyes were filled with embarrassment, and hurt, but there was something else there that Harry couldn't quite name. "You would do that? You read that?" she whispered, trying to keep a hold of her emotions. Disappointment- that was what else was in her eyes. He felt his face burn with shame; it felt like this was the worst thing he had ever done, and maybe it was. But before he could tell her how sorry he was, or how he thought he understood and she really didn't need to be embarrassed at all, he felt his face burning with something quite different than shame.
CRACK!! His eyes closed and he recoiled slightly at the feel of her hand coming in contact with his cheek. He opened his eyes after the first wave of pain subsided slightly to see her seething in rage, her arm still out and over her chest from the hit. Ginny had slapped him! That certainly wasn't what he was expecting. That was anger in her eyes, not embarrassment. He wanted to groan out loud; how thick was he? Here she was, right in front of him, and he still couldn't tell what she was thinking or feeling.
"Ginny, I'm-" he was cut of by her screaming.
"Get OUT!"
"Really, I-"
"I said, GET OUT!" she cried. He might have been sorry beyond belief, but he wasn't suicidal. He left, very gladly.
The door slammed behind him and he leaned against it. How could he have done this? It wasn't supposed to happen like this, he just want to know what she had been writing. And now, just when he had found out that she was pretty cool, and way deeper than the ever thought she was- probably way deeper than he was- he had done something to screw it all up. She hated him now- he would hate himself in her position. He groaned. He had thought she was embarrassed, couldn't even tell she was angry. She had every right to be angry, he decided quickly. It would have been wrong for her to be embarrassed.
Suddenly there was an enormous crash from inside her room. It sounded as if she might have fallen down. Without thinking, only wanting to make sure she was alright, Harry opened the door and stuck his head in.
"Ginny, are you ok?" he asked. He saw what made the noise. She had thrown a little vase he hadn't noticed before against the wall, flowers and all. The water tricked down a poster of Le Arc de Triumph and bits of stem clung to it. Ginny stood there, breathing very heavily, looking as though she had run a mile. Yet again, here was another side of her Harry never knew she had. Would it never end?
"Gin I thought-" before he could finish, something was coming towards him. He ducked and the object whizzed right over his head. He turned around to see what it was she threw only to get hit in the back of the head. He let out a yelp of pain; what was she throwing?
"Gin, what's going on?" Ron was pushing the door open all the way, Hermione behind him looking around at the few broken trinkets in the hallway. It figures that they'd show up now, Harry thought. It had to be this particular moment, didn't it?
"ASK him what he did, Ron!" Ginny screamed, pointing at Harry. "Go on, ask you're BLOODY FRIEND what the hell he did!"
Ron turned to look at Harry, his eyes wide with shock. Before Harry could say anything, Ron pulled him into the hallway, slamming Ginny's door, and dragged him by his t-shirt to his room. He roughly flung him down on one of the beds and began pacing in front of him. Hermione stood in the doorway and watched, obviously not wanting to get in the middle of this.
"Now," Ron began, in a very loud voice. "I don't know what you did, but Ginny only ever throws things at me, so I have some sort of idea. And she only ever swears at the twins, so I have an even better idea. But I want to you say it; I want you to tell me exactly what you did. NOW!" At that moment, Harry couldn't imagine Ron's face ever being redder, no matter what Ginny had written about Hermione's owl or whatever the twins did, but he tried very hard to focus on the matter at hand and not on the color of Ron's face, or the fact that he would probably be dead after Ron found out what he had done.
So, despite the impending death sentence, or, if he was lucky, just a brutal beating, he told Ron what had happened. He told him everything, the absolute truth- it was the least he could do after committing such a crime. Ron listen to the short story without interrupting, his footsteps getting harder and harder. When Harry had finished, Ron stopped pacing and stood there for a moment. Then, he ran out the door and barreled up the steps to the attic.
"What's he doing?" Harry asked Hermione, who was still standing silently in the doorway.
"I have no idea," she said, looking up at the ceiling. They could hear Ron above them, it sounded like he was moving things. She looked back down at Harry. "I can't believe you did that, Harry. That wasn't fair to go through her thoughts and things like that." She was disappointed with him, too. Harry decided he would give anything to suddenly disappear. Hermione sighed. "You are so incredibly lucky that I owe Ginny one. I'm going to go make sure she's alright." Harry put his head in his hands as Hermione left. What on Earth was he going to do?
He wasn't left much time to wonder, however, because Ron was soon back, though covered in dust, and now he was holding something in his hands. It was an old book, magically bound and almost falling apart. Harry instantly knew what it was.
"This, is the Older Brother Handbook," Ron said, comfirming Harry's fears. "It is the law of all things, well, older brother. There's a whole section for things like this, right under Ginny and the Bathroom rules."
"You have rules about Ginny and the bathroom?" Harry asked incredulously. Ron answered, temporarily forgetting he was mad at he friend.
"Jesus, none of us want to walk in on her!" he said, looking horrified at the idea. "It hasn't happened yet, and it's thanks to those rules. But the point is, according to this, you would never be allowed to visit here again, be stopped from any further communication with Ginny, and be somewhere around Malfoy on the people I like list." Harry was about to protest, but Ron held up his free hand. "Hold on a sec, let me finish. You are very, very lucky that you've saved my life multiple times and that Neville wouldn't make much of a best friend. For those reasons, and those reasons only, are you allowed to live. But you better do something bloody spectacular to fix all this."
"That's just the problem!" Harry cried. "I don't know what I could possible do to make it up to her!" Ron was about to say something when Ginny stood in the doorway, holding her notebook and trying to push her hair out of her face.
"Here!" she screamed as she threw the notebook at Harry. He caught it- it helped to be a Seeker- and managed to save an ear. Where had she developed such aim? "You're probably going to read it anyway!!" And she stormed out.
Harry knew he should go after her, be the Prince to her Cinderella, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't know what he would say, and he figured not saying anything at this point would be the wisest thing to do. Instead, he looked down at the notebook, not quite sure what to do with it. Flipping through it, he saw that there was a little more written there than there was previously. He began to read.
******"I have never in my life been more upset," she wrote. This is not going to be good, Harry thought, but he bravely read on. "Harry, the boy I've idolized and loved and admired for years- years mind you- has managed to make me madder than I've ever felt in my entire life! God, how does he do that? It's never in the middle with that boy, is it? It's always an extreme emotion. Complete devotion or utter fury- never just, "Eh, it's Harry, I don't care." NEVER! Can't I just be normal and get over it? Nope, it's time for Ginny's Emotional Roller Coaster time!" Hmm, Harry didn't know she knew what a roller coaster was.
"That makes me sound insane, but I'm not the one from the problem, he is! Who does he think he is, that he can just waltz in and read everything I've written about him? Well he can't! Oh God… how much did he read? Where on Earth did he find you anyway? I looked everywhere and- wait a second… What if he had you all day? I mean, he was acting really weird before and freaked out when I asked if anyone had seen you- he DID have you, didn't he?" Harry had really been hoping she wouldn't figure that out. "That- that wanker! Oh, I'm glad I threw those things at him now!
"Just *who* does he think he his?! Everyone knows not to read anything I write; I even made them add it to the Older Brother Handbook," Harry was beginning to hate that book, "I was so sure Ron would have told Harry about it already. I seem to be the only one in the world who doesn't consider Harry another of my brothers. But next time I see him- I swear…
"Who am I kidding? I'll never be able to look at him again without thinking 'I wonder what he thinks of me? Is he thinking about what I wrote? Does he pity me? Does he think I'm silly, or pathetic, or stupid even?' Oh, how am I ever going to live with that?"
"But you know what? Someone once said (I'm not sure who) 'No one can make you feel inferior without your permission,' or something like that. So, I am not giving Harry, someone who's never given me the time of day, my permission. He will NOT make me feel anything bad, because there's no reason for me too. Everything I wrote, I felt. Everything he read, I meant. (And that includes everything here, because I've already decided to give this to him. I think I'll throw it, that'll make me feel better.)"
Well, Harry thought, at least she's true to her word. He hoped it had made her feel better, because if it did, he suddenly didn't mind having things thrown at him.
"I'm going to go give this to him and then I'm going to kick Hermione out of here. She's being really sweet, telling me she's sure Harry never meant to read this (pfft!) but I need to take everything out on the piano. I pity the keys; they shall soon be beaten to death. (Another thing, what the heck was that about the piano? That's the only thing he could think of? Idiot!)"
Harry needed to do something to tell her that he never wanted to make her feel bad, he had only been a little curious about her. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was pretty extraordinary, and much more than he had ever thought she was. (He may not be in love with her, or be able to return all her feelings, but he did respect her, and now he admired her more than he ever had.)******
The only problem was how to do it; sure it sounded ok in his head, but he doubted he could ever say what he really meant to her in person, that's saying, if she would ever give him the chance.
"What happened?" Harry looked up to see Hermione entering the room.
"She threw the thing at Harry," Ron said. "Not that I blame her." Hermione shook her head.
"She kicked me out so she could play," she said. Sure enough, not a moment after she had said it, the air was filled with the opening notes of Moonlight Sonata. Ginny seemed to be putting all her anger in to keys, making them ring out her frustration.
Ron left out a long, low whistle. "Boy is she mad. I can't remember the last time she played like that."
"Why have I never heard her play?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged.
"She plays all the time," he said. "She just always has mom put a silencing charm on her room when there are guests over, I guess she was too upset to bother now. Doesn't like to play for an audience much."
"That's why I'm in here and not with her," Hermione added. Harry fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
"I'm never going to be able to make it up to her," he groaned. "I mean it, she'll never talk to me again." He paused. "Not that she ever talked to me in the first place." He expected Ron to say something then, but his complaint was met with silence. "Guys?" Still silence. He propped himself up on his elbows, only to see that Ron and Hermione had left. Great, he thought. His eyes traveled the room and rested for a moment on the notebook as Ginny ended Moonlight Sonata by pushing her hands flat across the keys, creating an eerie, off key echo. Harry had done that before; his primary school had a nice music teacher one year who let him bang on the piano a little.
She soon started a slow, sad tune, almost jazz. This time, her voice accompanied the piano.
"It a quarter to three," she sang slowly. She did have a beautiful singing voice. It was lower than Harry expected it to be, but it was nice. "There's no one in the place, 'cept you and me. So set 'em up Joe," her voice raised a little, "I gotta story I think you outta know." The notes were getting calmer and calmer. "We're drinking my friend, to the end, of a brief episode. So make it one for my baby, and one more for the road." That was one of the songs she had written on her notebook, the one just left of Harry's side.
A thought struck Harry then. That was it, of course! He would write everything he felt out. That way, she would be sure to understand; that way, he wouldn't make a fool of himself. He was sure she'd read it. There was no other way- that notebook got him into this mess, it was going to get him out of it. The only problem… what would he write?
*** Ginny's revised rant- The quote she gave was "Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent," and it was from Eleanor Roosevelt, but I couldn't imagine Ginny knowing that, or at least remembering it. So, I feel so much better about that rant than the first. The first was pathetic- this one's infinitely better. I'm still working on Harry's response. Like Ron said, it has to be spectacular… or at the very lest make sense, which it isn't right now. I'll post it as soon as I get it right. Thanks for all the reviews. I'll name people next chapter.***
This took forever to write, I'm not sure why. I spent the whole story dying to get to this point, and then I just stared at the screen forever, not sure what Ginny should write. Oh well, my reviewers (25? Wow!):
Arien, IcantBELIEVEitsNOTbutter, erin, Princess or Mordor, Tiny Teddy, Beccy (I'm SO glad you got that! That was the whole point of this fic; these things don't just happen overnight! If Harry was harboring a crush on Ginny, wouldn't we know already?), Mystic-Maiden aka Miyako, Omlettes (I loved the clock poem!), Genesis, ShellyK (Thanks for the idea about the handbook, I hadn't even thought about it till you mentioned it. I threw that comment in last minute anyway.), and of course, Julie.
I also have some poems on my name that I'm shamelessly plugging. (I have no reason to be ashamed, it's how I feel! Lol) If anybody wants to check them out, I'd really be grateful. Thanks!
