"Ron," said Harry towards the end of the following evening's Divination lesson, most of which, well, all of which he'd spent doing the only thing he'd been doing all day - trying to make some sense of his walk last night with Ginny and the emotional aftermath that followed. He knew perfectly well that what he'd been feeling last night and what he'd felt today when he passed her in the corridors between lessons was incomparable to anything he'd ever felt in his sixteen years of living in a huge spectrum of different feelings, but on the other hand, the element of almost family-like relations between him and the Weasleys nagged him at the back of his mind, telling him to "forget the girl and get a life" (as a little pink-eyed white bat once told his rotting master.)*
"Mmmm?" Ron mumbled in a tone so distracted and distant that it was only then that Harry realized just how quiet Ron was being for a Divination lesson, which was usually full of stifled laughs and sarcastic remarks about their teacher. Ron must have noticed Harry's sudden realization because he very quickly folded up the note he was reading under the table and looked up nonchalantly.
Harry grinned with narrow-eyed suspicion at the piece of parchment Ron was hastily stuffing in his pocket.
"What's that all about?" Harry inquired with a grin, knowing very well Ron was not about to tell him.
"None of your business," Ron snapped with a bit of a grin on his face.
"You absolutely certain about that?" Harry asked mischievously. "Only if it was nothing to do with me, I can't see why you wouldn't want to tell me about it."
"Yeah, well..." Ron mumbled, his ears turning a rich radish colour.
"Go on, what's in the letter?" Harry pressed, as Ron fought to rid himself of the embarrassed smile that had glued itself to his face.
"I'm not telling you," Ron retorted somewhat childishly, sticking his tongue out at Harry, "so there!"
"Fine, I suppose I'll just have to find out for myself, then," Harry shrugged cheerfully, pulling out his wand.
"You wouldn't," Ron challenged, eyeing Harry's wand with slight apprehension.
"Watch me," Harry grinned. "Accio parchment!"
The folded note whizzed out of Ron's pocket and shot into Harry's waiting hand. Ignoring Ron's frantic attempts to snatch his letter back, Harry held his friend back with one hand and began reading the letter aloud.
"Dear Ronnie," he began, then raised his eyebrows at the recipient. "Ronnie?" he repeated questioningly. "Who wrote this? 'Words cannot describe what I felt last night when I read the letter you stuffed into my hand in the common room. I'm not sure I properly express what I'm feeling right now, but I've never felt happier in my life. The feeling couldn't be more mutual, Ron - I've felt the same way about you for about three years now, and I was planning to make the first move if you weren't going to soon. I'm so glad you did, Ron. There's so much I want to say to you, so yes, seven o' clock in the Entrance Hall is great for me! I'll see you there. Can't wait. All my love, Hermione.' Aaaaaaaw."
Harry glanced up at his friend and had to fight down a laugh. He'd seen Ron's face turn several spectacular shades of reddish-pink in the six years he'd known him, but none rivalled the brilliant vermillion that glowed on his face.
"I can't believe you read that," Ron muttered grumpily, snatching the letter out of Harry's hand.
"Why not?" said Harry innocently. "I've known what you felt for Hermione for ages. Must have been, what, four years now? Ever since our second year…."
"How do you know that?" Ron demanded, looking more surprised than angry.
"Oh, come on," Harry grinned, "Anyone who saw the look on your face when Malfoy first called her Mudblood could guess. And when she came rushing into the Great Hall during that feast at the end of the year after Madame Pomfrey had given her that Mandrake Potion, you looked like you could kiss her forever. Plus, anyone could see how miserable you are every time you two fall out, and the Yule Ball had to be the most obvious…."
"All right, all right" said Ron quickly, in the tone of loathing he always used whenever anyone mention that Ball.
"Anyway," said Harry, slapping Ron on the shoulder, "looks like the feeling's not one-sided anymore. Way to go, lover-boy."
"Oh, that's rich!" Ron snorted with a grin, as the bell rang the end of the lesson. " This is coming from someone who can't bear to tear his eyes off my sister!"
"You what?" said Harry, getting up and grabbing his schoolbag.
"You heard," Ron smiled winningly. "You've done nothing but gawp at Ginny since Saturday! I think you've developed quite a crush on her, if you ask me."
"I wasn't asking you!" Harry snapped as they climbed through the trapdoor and down the sliver ladder to the landing below. "And of course I don't fancy Ginny! What in the world gave you that idea?"
"Oh, I don't know," Ron shrugged, with a beam that showed he was clearly enjoying himself. " The way you freeze when she smiles at you in the corridors, the way you manage to get food everywhere other than your mouth at mealtimes because you spend the whole meal staring at her….the way you lost us that Quidditch match this morning because you were gaping at her in the stands…."
"Wait a minute, we don't have Quidditch games on Mondays!" Harry said angrily, as they reached the fourth floor corridor and climbed down another flight of stairs.
"Gotcha!" Ron laughed, then once his mirth had subsided, he added, "look, Harry I really don't mind. If you and Ginny are getting together, I'm very happy for you. Honest! Although…I can't help wondering whether you don't deserve someone a little less bratty…"
"Ginny's not bratty!" Harry said defensively before he could stop himself. "She's great and I really like her and…"
"Told you!" Ron interrupted victoriously. "You said so yourself! Congratulations, mate! You've struck gold!"
"No chance, no way I won't say it, no no," Harry retorted, quoting what he thought was a very relevant song.
"You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Uh-oh!" Ron completed the next verse for him.
"It's too cliché, I won't say I'm in love," Harry insisted.
"Well, at least out loud, you won't say you're in love," Ron grinned, to which Harry didn't reply, but just fell silent.
"Well?" Ron pressed, a couple of floors down, "do you love her or not?"
Of course I love her, how could anyone not love someone like her? Harry was itching to say, but all that came tumbling out of his mouth was, "She's your sister!"
"Big deal!" Ron shrugged as they reached the top of the marble staircase.
"Well, how could I possibly love someone like her? She's just like a sister to me! How in the world can someone like me love Gin -"
But he never completed the sentence. At the foot of the stairs, only a few metres in front of them stood Hermione and Ginny, both staring at the approaching boys. Ginny's beautiful radiant eyes had lost their warm twinkle again and were looking a thousand times more dimmed than they had been two days ago during the Quidditch match. The orbs of caramel-brown were full of horror, disappointment and terrible heart-searing pain.
Had she not looked as hurt as she did, Harry's more optimistic side might have hoped she'd heard enough of the context to make his last few words sound less terrible than they did, but the pain in her eyes left no room for such hopes. He wanted to tell her he didn't mean it the way she thought he did at all, wanted to make it absolutely clear that he thought the world of her…but the look on her face put his tongue instantly out of order.
"Sister?" she said quietly, her voice quivering. "After everything you said, after everything that happened over the last few days, after everything we shared last night…that's all I am to you? Just a sister?"
"Ginny, I - " Harry began desperately, but before he could say another word, she whipped around and ran across the Entrance Hall, through the great oak doors and out into the night.
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*) yes, as you can tell, I'm an Anastasia freak as well as Disney.
