A/N: I promise that this chapter is more interesting than the last!
I'm going about this slowly so than you can see the change in Harry's and Ginny's attitude toward each other…just a few scenes where I throw them in together…and others just so you can have fun with the Weasleys.
CHAPTER TWO
Ginny didn't know what to do with the tall male Potter standing in her kitchen with, what seemed, an easy smile on his lips.
His hair was spiky and dripping. His eyes were bright and an impossible wondrous green, peering at her from behind those horrid glasses, that she had the subconscious feeling that her own eyes were turning that same color.
"Harry! W-what are you doing here? I mean – what are you doing here now?"
Could it have sounded stupider than that?
He laughed. The laugh hurt more than anything else. But despite the humiliation, she noted how his face lit up like a jolly moon when he did.
"Shut up Ginny and give him a hug!" said Fred, pushing her at Harry.
Unknown to Ginny was Fred's real intention. He had longed for a long time to see those two together; he was almost sentimental about it. His love for her made him wish to see her secure and loved by someone he could trust like Harry. A nudge here and a nudge there ought to do it, he thought, and Harry is finally smitten.
Ginny, however, thought he was being typical teasing Fred who'd never given it a break with her crush on Harry.
But what can one do when thrown into the arms of Harry Potter but stay in the arms of Harry Potter?
During that brief embrace, in which she couldn't even remember what she'd mumbled to him, she noted many things that set the butterflies free in her stomach and kept her up that night.
How he smelled of rain and fresh green things…How she was not at all annoyed when her clothes were marked with his warmth and wetness…How exquisite the chuckle he released into her hair sounded…
She wanted to stay there, snuggled up with that glorious feeling, in his arms…but, as mentioned before, it was brief.
The world turned right-side-up again when he let go of her. It was once again sane and logical.
Everything happened so fast after that. Harry was swallowed up in the endless chatter of her brothers and she found herself standing alone, the last to leave the kitchen.
But then, a spark lit up and sent a feeling of frustration in the ego corner of her brain. It was obviously fate's doing. To give her a taste of sweet sensual heaven then pull her back by the hair, let her land on her bum. She felt like crying.
Then, another spark in the Weasley corner of her brain had its say. She wasn't going to let fate play with her like that.
She marched right into the heart of the living room and sat herself upon the arm of the loveseat Fred and Ron were seated on.
Damn you Potter! You and your good-looking ancestors! Ginny Weasley might have been silly mooning frivolously over you like a brainless idiot but you'll soon see how solid she can be. You wanted Weasley? I'll give you a taste of Weasley.
If she was to have heaven then she would have it all. Meanwhile, she would be quite content on the arm of this chair, at a good healthy distance from the object of her desire.
And if heaven wants me it'll have to tiptoe over and get me.
* * *
Mr. Weasley and his brother were home by ten O'clock that night.
Their dinners were had in front of the fireplace in the living room, listening to the hearty voices of the young ones surrounding them.
They ate under Mrs. Weasley's watchful eye. Perhaps that was the reason that not a single crumb was found on the floor, not a spot of grease on the furniture.
"What happened between you and the muggles, Harry? Gave you a hard time?" asked Mr. Weasley, unable to conceal the glimmer of interest in his eyes.
"Well," Harry hung his head and smiled, "Let's just say we had the hugest fight ever. But you know what Mr. Weasley?"
"Which one?" joked Robert in the background.
Harry cocked his head and grinned at him, which sent and involuntary gurgle up Ginny's guts.
"I threw a tantrum! I've never thrown a tantrum before! But I put both sides at ease, at least. The Dursleys won't have anything to complain about for the rest of their long miserable days and I will…I dunno…start my own family!"
Laughter broke out among the clan, and even Ginny found it in her heart to laugh. But the thought of Harry starting a family made her blush.
"Actually," he continued, "I had the jolly nerve to give Aunt Petunia an irksome peck on the cheek before I went out and wished them good luck for the rest of their days. I said: I wish it didn't have to be this way." Then he snorted at his own words, ", like I was breaking up with my girlfriend or something"
"Is that how you'd break up with your girlfriend?" Ginny piped up, without thought.
Ron reached out and tugged a lock of her hair, playfully "Yeah, you'd want to know, wouldn't you?" he whispered. He was tactful enough not say it out loud, but she was sure Harry and the rest of the room got the gist.
Harry merely shrugged at her.
"Ah! What will they do without me, I wonder?" he mused out loud.
"Rot, that's for sure!" said Mrs. Weasley, "It was your magic, Harry, that kept that household intact. Such unpleasant people! Harry, I congratulate you!"
She sighed. It must have been something she'd been dying to say for years.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Harry Potter's inside story, the latest scoop!" called out Robert Weasley jovially.
* * *
The still quiet darkness loomed over Harry like a settled swarm of crows.
It was the middle of the night and Ron's crowded room was humming with different kinds of snores, with different lilts to them, each unique as the person it belonged to.
But it wasn't the impossible snoring that kept Harry wide awake at this hour. It was the colorful visions that defeated the darkness enveloping him.
The Weasleys lived up to his expectations. Their atmosphere was simply merry, like a medieval feast, and Weasley enough for him, like it always was. They managed to make him forget his messy state at the Dursleys, all the other miseries of his life, made him feel like he was one of them, always had been one of them. Them and their genuine grins and comical red hair.
It was his first time meeting their uncle, Robert. Harry had to muffle his chuckle when he thought of him. That man looked like a loon disguised as an uncle. He had a funny lovable air about him. Like a man who loved to smash waistcoat watches for fun while taking a swig of his "healthy" Irish gin. And he did seem to flirt with the womenkind so very much.
And Ginny. It felt like it was his first meeting her too. He'd known her along time but somehow he hadn't. In a nice way. In a way that thrilled him and made him want to know more about her.
What had Ginny done to herself in a matter of a month and a half? Or had she been like that a long time while he'd been the blind bloke who never noticed it? She suddenly was pretty. No, pretty wasn't the word. Gorgeous and fiery.
Her eyes were large, wondrous, with spirit in them, and her cheeks had a blooming girlish color.
He lay on the squishy mattress, replaying every detail of the night in his mind. Every detail that had to do with her.
Her hair was gleaming in the firelight, a ravishing…what would one call that color? Auburn was not enough to describe it. Neither was red-gold.
Why am I thinking about Ginny's hair?
Because you felt like touching it all through dinner time, you prat
Her smile was appealing, so coy, so natural. Her hand movements were smooth, her voice so lovely.
Ginny always seemed in the shadow but she stood out tonight, burned her way in and took her rightful place in his thoughts.
It's physical attraction, that's what it is, Potter.
Without being aware of it, his thoughts toed the line and carried themselves too far.
What would it be like to have Ginny in bed?
Yeah Right! All those brothers would be after my head for doing their sister.
Potter, this is ridiculous.
But that bit of scolding didn't help at all, because his next thought was:
I wonder if she's a virgin.
He most certainly wasn't. That mad fling with Parvati was still fresh in his mind. They had enjoyed each other's bodies last year, but Harry had to break if off with her because, even though the sex was great, he always felt sick afterwards. There were no emotional connections between them. None whatsoever.
There was another little fling with Cho Chang that lasted no more than three days, but that was about it.
And here he was thinking sinful thoughts about Ginny. Thoughts that were bound to wake Mr. Weasley up from his slumber.
But no. It wasn't just physical. Really. There was something subtle about her that maybe even she didn't realize.
He wanted to uncover it all. See it all. He'd changed his mind.
One more Weasley in his inventory to know and found out more about couldn't hurt at all.
* * *
"So Harry, What are you planning to do after Hogwarts?" asked Uncle Robert at breakfast one day.
"Work for the ministry of magic," Harry replied, biting into his toast, "I might become an auror one day."
"Department of magical law enforcement, then?"
Harry nodded.
"It'll take you years to get there, mind you. You'll have to start off with a very junior job like…a neighborhood sentry or his assistant. 'snt that right Arthur?"
"Yep. Right-O. You'll have to take Law enforcement courses at the ministry before you start, though."
"What about Quidditch Harry?" asked Ginny, who was pretending, to calmly reach for the marmalade, while her real intention was to have a close look at those eyes.
"Nah! While it's fun, it's useless. I don't want to be one of those hair gel advertising athletes which girls go nuts about." He replied, looking at her, also wanting to look at her eyes. The way they twinkled when she laughed at what he just said.
"Like David Beckham?" she pressed.
"Yeah! How do you know about David Beckham?"
"Ron here," she nudged her brother, next to her, "pretends he doesn't give a hoot about soccer but he has loads of muggle sports magazines under his bed."
"How do you know there are muggle magazines under my bed?" Ron asked, looking scornfully at his sister.
"I was looking for Pigwidgeon."
"Under my bed?"
"Yes, Ron. He sometimes hides there, didn't you know?"
"So that's when you thought you'd rummage through my stuff?"
"I wanted to look at the muggle guys!"
Everyone stopped chewing and looked at her.
"What?"
After a pause, Harry was the first who laughed. "If I were a famous athlete, would you flip through a magazine just to look at me?"
Then, he looked up, realizing what just popped out of his mouth. He was flirting openly with Ginny. Something he'd never done before. As the rest on the breakfast table whooped and smacked Harry on the back, he didn't even realize that he'd done it in front of her parents.
Ginny, across him, was blushing. The scarlet crept up her neck to her cheeks. But instead of being mortified, her cheery mood that morning allowed her to see the humor of the situation and she had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing.
"I honestly don't know what to say to that." She murmured in reply.
Mr. Weasley, who was laughing too, pushed his chair back, as much as the small kitchen could allow him, and got up.
"All right that's it. I've been around teenagers too long. Harry, stop flirting with my daughter! And Ginny, don't let me catch you looking at another guy magazine!" he ordered teasingly, giving Ginny a friendly wink.
He took his last gulp of coffee then looked at his brother. "We'd better be off. What say you, Robert?"
"I'm game when you are, Arthur"
They both took their bowler hats and they both kissed Mrs. Weasley good-bye.
* * *
That afternoon, Mrs. Weasley chivvied them all out of the house, even poor Bill, who had intended to sit quietly on the armchair and read the daily prophet, now that no one had their hands on it.
"The dears!" she whispered to herself, shutting the door after them, "but one is entitled a moment of peace and quiet."
Outside, almost half a dozen pairs of feet trampled the smooth grass of the lawn that led to the small valley where the Weasleys used to spend their childhood days doing all sorts of nonsense.
Boring Percy sat himself on a boulder, quill and ink in hand, and went about the boring business of writing a report for his boss. Fred and George were too lazy to do anything else but blow dandelion seeds from far away that kept getting into Percy's way or into the still wet ink on his parchment.
"Knock if off you two!" shouted Percy. He turned and caught Ginny, who was feeling quite wicked herself, gathering dandelions in Fred and George's aid. But she pretended to innocently have trouble placing the dandelions in her hair.
When she did succeed, however, Harry thought she looked lovely. Fresh and warm and magical. The breeze whispered a few curls into brushing her face and his hands involuntarily clenched with the impulse to reach out and smooth it all back again. But instead he smiled and decided to engage her in conversation.
"So Gin," he started, with no idea whatsoever of what he was going to say next. When she dragged her laughing eyes from the catawumpus commotion Fred, George, and Percy were doing, he got it.
"What are you going to do once you're
out of school?"
A sweet little smile spread slowly
across her face. "Erm...actually_"
"She's going to be song writer, Virginia Weasley." Interrupted Ron with a look of malice on his face, "And the first song she's going to publish will be…" he stopped a second to make a bit of an effect, "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad_"
"RON!" she cried.
Just then she turned from sweet maiden to tigress. Her eyes flashed, her face was flushed, and, Harry noted, there was a cute little frown in her brow.
"You could at least save Harry the embarrassment! I'm sure he doesn't want to be reminded of that!"
"Come one, Gin, it's not big deal. And you weren't embarrassed?"
The tempest inside her began to grow more intense.
"That was the most humiliating incident of my life! Do you actually enjoy making fun of me, Ron?"
Temper made her forget that Harry was part of the conversation, nay, the one who started it even.
"All right! Back off, woman! Sheesh!"
Harry watched the small fight with a grin on his lips but he was internally perplexed. That incident was embarrassing to her? And she was writhing in mortification about it?
It somehow made him feel like he'd lost something he could have seized but instead, let slip through his careless fingers. The way she and Ron talked about that Valentine's day in front of him, like it was a mere matter of no great importance, not enough to keep hushed from him vexed his mood. Did that mean that that old crush had died away?
Does this matter?
Maybe, just maybe, it does.
The day continued to be lovely. It was humming with life and warmth and sweet scents.
Ginny leaned back on her elbows and crossed her outstretched legs. The nearby clump of honeysuckles had a strong scent that was softly diluted with the tingly breaths of the pine trees, blowing gently that, one would almost think it had come from the subconscious. It relaxed her as she felt it seep into her blood, her mind. It was when she was like this that a song crept into her, filling her head, and giving a slight haze to her eyes.
Her foot jiggled, her fingers tapped, as the tune took shape, rose and fell, in funny impish lilts. And slowly, as if to join the celebration, the words whirled in.
I won't say that only Harry noticed the disposition she was in while they were mushroom hunting in the nearby wood. Ron too did and a flash of pure brotherly wickedness on his face told Harry he had a scheme.
It was a lovely picture of her they would have to ruin, Harry thought. He did already regret it even before it happened. She looked so aloof and lost in some other world. Her hair was a wild tangle of bright red-gold hair, the color of Mr. Weasley's whiskey, brushing the grass provocatively. Her face was flushed and tilted, exposing the subtle curve of white throat peering from the opening of her shirt collar.
And a simple image like that had Harry involuntarily building wild erotic ones upon it. He didn't care much for that.
Through whispers and silenced laughs, Ron told him what he had in mind, to disrupt Ginny's mood.
"You want to see what Ginny's like when she's angry?"
Harry grinned and nodded. Ron, unwarily, enhanced his fantasies by mentioning Ginny's temper.
Poor Ron! I'm a bad best friend, I am!
"Alright let's go. And don't laugh!"
That Harry didn't. He did indeed like to see the beauty of Ginny's temper rising, but he didn't fancy himself as the reason.
They climbed the short bump, up to where Ginny was relaxing alone.
The serenity she appeared to be in washed over him like a soothing wave. He wanted to plop down next to her and do whatever she was doing. But it was too late.
"Ginny!" Ron barked. Harry crossed his arms and tried to look speculative.
The faintest of gasps, barely heard, had Ron satisfied. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Excuse me?" she said, apparently too surprised to scorn Ron's tone.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he said again, louder this time.
"Ron, just what crawled up your arse?"
Harry snorted. A nudge from Ron quieted him.
"It's not funny, Harry" he said glaring, "What crawled up my arse? What you've been doing all summer's what crawled up me bloody arse!"
A faint shout from George echoed from the hill yonder. "Hey! Mind your language there!"
No one paid any attention to George.
"He told me what you've been doing." Said Harry
"Oh? And what might that be, Harry-O?"
As quick as lightning, she was up on her feet, her eyes level with them both and had as much threat.
"You've been writing to Draco Malfoy haven't you?" Ron hissed, before Harry could get a word out.
Now, all of this was a joke on her of Ron' brilliant creation. He had seen her sending letter to the same person countless times and he was gnawing at himself wishing to find out who it was. If it was a secret lover, he would want to tease her about it wouldn't he? Or else he wouldn't be fulfilling his duty as brother. And the Draco Malfoy part he threw in just to get the words out of her, including spoiling her blissful mood, which, in his way of thinking was a show of affection.
Ginny, on the other hand, was annoyed, ready to snap, but slightly confused. She would have asked for an explanation for what he'd just accused her of but temper brought another idea into her head.
"Yes. I have." She said it with a lofty raise of her head.
She looked in every way truthful to both Ron and Harry, and that threw them off track quite brutally. Judging by their painfully raised eyebrows, of course. For just a few second they couldn't but mouth at her.
"Liar." Said Ron, when he recovered, although he did look very much like he believed her.
"Why?" Harry whispered.
"No, I'm not Ron. If you don't believe me you can bloody well ask him yourself. And the why of it, Harry, is my concern."
There! That served Harry right for being the blind fool that he was. And Ron, the git.
"What the hell do you think you're doing philandering with the likes of him?"
Enjoying the game immensely, Ginny put a pouty look on her face and said, with the voice of a girl in love, "You don't know him Ron!"
"Don't want to! You stay away from him. Heard me?"
"You're not my father!"
"Oh alright then! I'll bring our father into this if it will have you satisfied."
There was a sheen of tears in Ginny's eyes, fake ones of course. One thing she prided herself on was the ability to act when she wanted to.
"I'm going inside!" she said sulkily.
After turning around and walking down to the house, she gave a fake sniffle to confirm to them that she was for real.
"Ginny! You listen to me! You got yourself tangled up in that family's clutches before! Do you want to be after that again?" he called behind her.
The claws of rage at such a statement flexed and threatened to scratch inside her. But she didn't act upon it, didn't oblige it by setting it free, for fear of spoiling her delicious plan of revenge on Ron and Harry, who appeared to be with him in this.
When she, at last, came upon the kitchen's backdoor, she wrenched it open and slammed it behind her.
"What happened to you?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she waddled into the kitchen, noting the way her eyes were bright and her face was scarlet.
"Mum!" she breathed out, rubbing her hands in glee, "I just lied to Ron and told him I was secretly with Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco!"
A giggle bubbled out of her.
Her mother didn't look very pleased. "Well? How did he take it?" she asked absently, getting a bowl out from the cupboard.
"Oh, he just threatened to tell dad and deal with Draco Malfoy." She said shrugging as she got the eggs out for her mother.
"I have the notion of making your grandmother's recipe of pumpernickel bread. Get the pan out for me, will you dear?"
Molly did have a sense of humor. But she didn't like to show it when came to some things. She shook her head behind Ginny's back and smiled. Ron must have gone brotherly on her, bless him. And God help the man she was going to Marry.
But thinking about Ginny's marriage made her queasy. She wished her beloved only daughter would stay with her for always, helping her make bread and having tea with her in the morning. She wanted everything wonderful for her, yet her impossible motherly selfishness held the wishing for it back.
She's growing up. So fast, that I keep thinking of such things even when I'm making bread.
They had a hearty little chat together in the small kitchen and both of them felt heaps better at the end of it.
"Gin there's some cake from last night if you want it. And, Sweetheart, do tell Ron the truth today. It would be cruel to wait any longer than that." She said gently.
"Mum!" she cried, "Don't waken up my conscience now! I wanted to torture him!"
"Have it your own way, Ginny, "she replied with sigh, as she peeked into the oven, "But I can tell from now that you won't be able to play a joke like that on your father when Ron drags him into this business."
"Then I'll make sure he doesn't."
* * *
Bill prided himself on his silence in these matters. But his time he couldn't contain himself.
The half folded newspaper was tucked underneath his arm, and his stride was long and confident.
When he caught up with Harry, there was a grin on his face. He slapped a hand on his shoulder, genially.
"Good luck wooing my sister, Harry."
Harry, who was astounded at such a remark, only goggled at Bill.
"W-what?"
"She may be a bit stubborn at first but you never mind that. She'll come to at the end. She waited too long for you, you know!"
"Bill, what are talking about?"
Bill sighed. "I've said my say and rested my case. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." His grin grew wider when he nudged Harry's ribs, "She's a pretty one isn't she?"
Without waiting for an answer, he strolled away, whistling, satisfied that he'd given Harry the advice.
* * *
There was a tangible tension between Ginny and Ron for the rest of the day and Ron daren't bring it up with her because they were always surrounded with people.
Like a hawk, He was watching for the chance to grab her and speak with her alone without raising suspicions. If it was Hogwarts he would have pulled her into one of the numerous broom cupboards to keep Filch happy and no one would notice their disappearance.
Many a meaningful look did he give her, a glare, a grin, anything to get into that hard head of hers that he wanted to talk to her in private. But all those she returned with a sweet smile then a few bites on her nails, just to "show" that she was nervous about the whole situation.
Harry, who was prepared to apologize to Ginny for allowing Ron to play a joke on her and for being a part of it, to smile at her for the rest of the evening, was still baffled that the joke was on them and was a good deal ruffled at spirit.
At the end of the day, however, the sulkiness turned to anger.
Ginny was involved with someone. And with who? It had to be his enemy. They had to talk her out of it. Whatever intentions Malfoy had toward her couldn't be good. And what kind of a flighty person was she to allow herself such frivolity? She really was so full of surprises.
Those were mediocre thought that buzzed around in his mind but the final one was of furious fire.
SHE WAS GODDAMN WRITING TO DRACO MALFOY!
But what if she was lying? She wouldn't risk her parent's strict disapproval and her brothers' animosity. And it was very difficult for him to imagine Draco Malfoy showing any kind of interest, no matter how small, how insignificant, in Ginny Weasley, whose family he considered an absolute source of scorn.
That was sense wasn't it? Rational thinking.
Bugger it!
He had no real thread to hold on to but her word.
And what the hell was this anyway? Why was he wasting his thoughts so much on the matter when he could be listening to the entertaining story Uncle Robert was telling? Maybe he really did have a thing for her.
He watched her from his perch on the stool beside Mr. Weasley's armchair. She was all snuggle up in the "corner" of the sofa, notebook and quill in hand and appeared to be writing something that gave her pleasure. He suddenly wanted to snuggle up next to her and have her tell him what she was writing with that sweet fuzzy voice of hers. He wanted to push that rebellious red curl which she chose not to notice away from her eyes and behind her ear where it belonged. Or else just grab a fistful of those chaotic spirals near the back of her neck and give a good hard tug just so he could see those baby dear eyes turn into those of a tiger. The idea appealed to him so much that he was caught staring and smiling goofily by none other than her.
Harry was watching her. It pleased her to see that gorgeous smile directed at her but its motive irritated her. So he was planning something else wasn't he? Either that or he was, with very much relish, imagining the trouble she would get into once her father was told.
She gave him a frown and the pert tip of her tongue. Then without so much as a second glance she returned to the letter she was writing to her pen pal, though it cause her a great deal of pain to look away from that wonderfully sculpted face.
What business has he to look beautiful when I'm irritated with his guts?
* * *
But Harry Potter continued to look beautiful, just to spite her. But when luscious Harry potter steps into her bedroom without being invited and grabs her arm, it would be another matter completely.
A jolt bounced through her when he walked in, stormy faced and sober. She didn't even have time to put her night robe on so she had to contend with standing in front of him wearing nothing but baby blue pajamas that said "love me" on the front.
Harry felt that he was stepping into some other world. He couldn't quite explain it. It was his first time in Ginny's room. And a strange room it was.
She didn't keep any silly stuffed animals on her bed or furry pink cushions that looked inside-out. It was all in all a subtle and sensual room.
From an ornate lamp on the bedside table, dim golden light streaked and shimmered through the dark corners of the room, mingling harmoniously with the rich burgundy and creamy colors she had chosen. There were queer dangles hanging from the ceiling, making a low faerie sort of tinkling, pretty objects which he'd never seen before and can only be described as witchy were placed on almost every surface, excluding the bed, and beneath the window was a tall glass vase with fake tiger-lilies. And in one holy looking corner of the room, he spotted a guitar and a pile of scrolls scattered near a plump and very inviting bean bag cushion.
"Hello, Harry" she said quietly. She waited till he left off looking at her room like he'd never seen one before and turned his gaze at her. "And you are in my room."
"Erm…"
"You've never been in my room before." She remarked.
When he fumbled for something to say, she gave him a warm smile, which was natural on her side, and exciting to him, and said as she seated her self, cross-legged on the bed, "Doesn't mean you're not welcome."
"It's…a nice room."
It's sly and sexy, yet natural, he said to himself. Not just nice. Which, then again, represented a part of her he'd never noticed before.
"Thank you. Did you want something?"
"Yes." He put his hands on his hips and gave her a half grin. "I…came in here to give you a good scolding…but…"
"But what?" she asked in a semi whisper.
"But I forgot what I was going to say!"
"Oh."She said simply, her eyes lively with humor, "Too bad. I've never been scolded by you before, Master Potter. I wanted to hear what it would have been like."
"Stop it." he said, cocking his head abashedly.
He was slightly nervous and needed to sit somewhere, so he placed his bum on the round bedpost, then shot up again, and frowned at it mild irritation.
Now if that wasn't adorable, she didn't know what was. Forgiveness took place in her heart at the cute sight of him.
She giggled, waved him over and patted the bed, a gesture for him to make himself comfortable. He sat on the side of the bed, very gingerly, as if she could have hidden a porcupine underneath the covers.
"I just felt suddenly that you're not one I could bring myself to scold."
Her stomach did a very acrobatic flip-flop.
"And just what did you want to scold me about?"
"Well…you know…"
When she smiled at him sweetly, he raked a hand through his hair in frustration with himself. "This Malfoy business." He burst out saying.
Just then, he looked like a sulky child who needed a pat on the head and a piece of candy to go with it.
"Right" she said. "What have you to say about it?"
"Well…I'm concerned, I guess."
"About me?"
Honey I'm not just concerned but I'm also jealous, so sue me.
"Yes, about you." He paused a while, staring at a funny turtle shaped jewelry box on the bedside table. "I mean, think about what you're putting yourself through."
"I have done that, Harry. Do you think I'm a brainless twit to go mooney-eyed on Draco Malfoy for no reason?"
"So you are mooney-eyed over Draco Malfoy!"
"That's not the point. The point is I know what I'm doing and I am careful. So you're not to worry."
"Can't help it though! May I ask when this started?"
"Oh, a long time ago."
A heavy dread filled up his insides that he wondered how he was going to heave himself up off the bed.
Why is this happening to me? Have I gone and fallen in love with her?
Then the unexpected had him forgetting his heavy heart and the tangle of confusion in his head.
Ginny, who couldn't contain herself, buried her head under the pillows and laughed so hard her shoulders shook.
"What?"
She sat up again, considerably touched by the miserable look on his face, and decided to forgive him and tell him the truth.
"You should see the look on your face!" she said, still laughing.
She didn't answer him ,but got up, instead, and quietly pushed the door closed, locked it, then turned around to face him, her expression looking somewhat like that of a sly kitten.
"I'll tell you something if you swear upon your father's soul that you won't tell Ron."
Quite puzzled, and a bit tired, if he admitted it to himself, he nodded.
But Ginny wasn't satisfied.
"Swear it."
"Alright, I swear!"
She moved silkily away from the door, padding softly on the burnished wooden flooring. Her hips made very soft swaying movements and her arms were crossed. Then she was right in front of him, looking down onto his face, all gleaming hair and darkened eyes and shamelessly full lips stretching into a wry smile.
"I lied." She whispered.
His first reaction was to raise his eyebrows. Then to raise them higher. "This morning?"
"Yep!"
"You lied?"
She stopped laughing and bit her cheeks. She confirmed it for him with a firm nod.
"Damn it, Ginny!"
Her eyes grew wide. It was appreciation of that hot arousing outburst, it was. She took a step back and looked at him cautiously.
"How could you do that? If you were my sister I'd strangle you, d'you know that?"
"Well I'm not!" she shot back. "I already have six brothers and six are enough for me."
And if you want to be something else to me, you jackass, you're quite welcome.
"You frightened the wits out of Ron. He's boiling over it."
"And?"
"And? Ginny, put yourself in his place and try to imagine what sort of images he might be having in his head right this instant!"
She snorted. "Why doesn't he come and scold me about it?"
"I dunno!"
He wasn't really thinking about Ron, at the moment, to tell the truth. He was very content with feeling relieved that she wasn't linked with someone.
"I'm really surprised. What made you do that?" he asked.
"Guess Ginny the angel isn't one after all, eh Harry?"'
"Are you trying to prove something here?"
"No!" she glared at him, "No, I'm not! I was just having fun."
"This isn't my idea of fun."
"That'll be your problem, won't it?" still glaring.
He was taken aback.
"What's wrong with you?"
She laughed again. A rich mirthful laugh.
"I'm sorry! I'm just feeling frisky!"
"That's not my idea of frisky either." He said. Although, this time he said it with a surrendering smile.
"What is then?"
"Well…"he began, "_you're not going to change the subject."
He headed to the door, preparing to unlock it.
"I have to tell Ron. You have to tell Ron."
"I most certainly won't. And you won't either. I assume you're a man of your word."
He turned around and put his hand on his waist.
"Why are you doing this Ginny?"
"To get back at Ron for being a stupid git…And I wanted to annoy you too!"
His eyes immediately changed from fearless green into something that resembled the hurt look of a puppy, although I've never seen a puppy with green eyes.
"Me? What did I ever do to you?"
The tremble in her voice he next heard had many layers of things hidden beneath it.
"Nothing! That's just it, Harry!"
Before he could answer, there was startling pound on the door that had the blood rushing fast into both their heads. Ginny took a deep breath and gestured toward it. "Unlock it."
A furious looking Ron with wild red hair flying every which where, stomped in, when Harry opened the door. Ginny narrowed her eyes.
* * *
"If you're going to come in looking like that, you can get out."
"I'm not leaving here until I get things straight with you." He said with vigor, point fiercely at the floor under his stockinged feet. "You've been avoiding me all day and don't try to pretend you weren't. I care about you, alright, Ginny. And whether you like it or not this is my business."
Ron stopped to pant.
"Ok." Said Ginny breezily and continued to look at him, with a somewhat nonchalant look on her face that was hinted with challenge.
"You're not taking this seriously." Ron snarled.
"Would you care to lecture about why I should?" she asked, enunciating every word.
"All right I will!" Ron shouted, "First of all you'd be getting yourself in even worse danger than you did in your first year. Second if this family's reputation doesn't mean anything to you, well it does to me! I'm not having you trampling it that way. And least of all, Ginny, something both you and I know, mum and dad are not going to like this."
"When did you get so righteous all of a sudden? I think Mum and Dad see that all of us are grown up." Ginny hissed.
"Well I think they're going to change their minds about one of us." Ron shouted back.
They made quite the picture. Ginny was the angry hissing cat who'd just been purring and looking extremely docile and Ron was the red raging tempest blowing in its face.
"Just Stop it you two!"
Harry bounced forward and put a hand on each of their shoulders. He was used to this. He'd got a lot of practice from when Ron and Hermione sniped at each other that way.
"Ginny, I hate it to spoil this for you, but you should tell him the truth. And Ron," he said, giving him a level look, "Calm down."
Ginny stepped back, turned around and took a deep breath. When she faced them again she had a bit of a smile in her face, a rather reluctant one.
"Alright. Alright, Harry." She inhaled again, "This isn't as fun as I thought it would be anyway."
"What are you talking about?" asked Ron, looking confused but still ready to jump back to war.
"I lied to you."
"What d'you mean you lied to me?"
"This morning. You and Harry were playing a joke on me so I thought I'd play one too. Only mine was more successful, don't you think?" she said, with a grin, which Harry found irresistible, even though he too was annoyed with her for tugging at his heart all day with that joke of hers.
"You!"
Ron was read in the face and in the ears by now. "How could you do that?"
"It's not my fault you're gullible." She replied sassily, more to irritate his already irate mood than to state the facts.
"You realize that if you were a guy I'd punch you."
"Well I'm not, then."
That moment she looked up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes and an easy smile. And both provoked his anger into disappearing, but pride resisted. His mouth twitched, stretched a bit, then pinched itself again. But at last a smile broke its way through and turned into a grin.
"Come here, you." He said softly.
They laughed and embraced each other.
Perhaps they didn't realize it but Harry was truly touched at the sight of them. It was so close and intimate, between brother and sister, something he would never experience.
"You had me worried there, Gin, honestly."
"I know."
"Because I love yo_"
"I know, I know. You don't have to go mushy on me if you don't want to."
"Thanks!" he paused, wondering if he should bring it up, "And um…I'm sorry if I'd been mean to you a lot lately. I don't mean any of it."
"S'ok, Ron."
"Just Holiday restlessness, you catch my meaning." He teased.
She broke off and smacked him on the chest. "You had to ruin a perfectly sweet apology!"
Ron sniggered. "That's exactly what's wrong with it."
"Alright, now you two get out of here and give me some peace. Shoo!"
Ron went out to soothe a distressed looking Mrs. Weasley, who came up all the way from the kitchen claiming she heard some shouting.
Harry stayed behind. He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to say it no matter what the consequences.
"Umm…Ginny?"
"Yeah?"
She felt the old shyness slipping in, out of nowhere. Her face heated up a little so she ducked and pretended to check the glowing ball of magic inside the lamp shade.
As a challenge to himself, he decided that he wouldn't get it out unless she was looking at him, so poor Ginny was forced to straighten up when she realized he wasn't going to start unless she did.
"I'm so glad you're not really involved with Malfoy." Then he swallowed hard, "or anyone."
If her head was still under the lamp shade she was sure she would have bumped it sorely with the surprise.
"W-what?"
Blimey! Do I have to repeat that? He thought.
"I_" but he couldn't go on. He felt stupid.
"Really?"
Her voice had gotten so soft and her eyes were fixed on his, demure and longing. But then, she told herself to be sensible. What she thought, or wished, he meant might not be what he meant.
"W-why?"
Why can't girls just take the obvious? He thought. But he didn't want to leave her with any doubt about his meaning. But how on earth?
Just say it you prat!
This was the most vital moment of her life, Ginny thought.
Please say it you prat!
"I like you."
If he kept looking at her, he would do something stupid. Even stupider than what he just said. But it was already out there wasn't it?
"Which is a stupid thing to say, really, as I've always liked you, and your whole family. But I like you a lot. In a way."
Something rose and shimmered inside her, like faerie dust, tickling the senses. But she quieted it down, sobered it up. She wasn't the silly little girl anymore, she reminded herself. That statement could have meant anything. She hated what he said, or rather what he hadn't said, and regretted having to be sensible. But sensible was always best if you didn't want to fall into clutches.
"Thanks. I like you too Harry." Then she decided to fake a little chuckle and say, "I mean, I was practically in love with you in first year."
A block of granite, right in the face! He thought angrily. That wasn't the kind of liking he meant but he didn't intend to push it any further as she'd obviously discouraged him, turned his hope and expectations, as gently as she could it seemed, to the wooden floor. She'd obviously grown more cool-headed. He wished she could be silly over him now as she'd been four years ago.
"Well, that's good then. We're in good terms now, aren't we?"
"I guess we are, unfortunately. I would have very much liked to have a spat with you!"
"I'll keep that in mind, so I can provoke you when I'm when I'm ready to fight with you, you vixen. You really did bite Ron's head off."
"Served him right, fish-faced jackass!" she cried fondly.
Harry chuckled. But there was no merriness inside him. He wanted to rewind and redo the whole scene, in which he would have held her and told her he wanted her, but such things time ignores when pleaded with.
"Well, goodnight then." He said softly.
"You too."
Just before he disappeared out the door, he turned his head to the right and glimpsed again the guitar and scraps of parchment.
"Hey, Gin?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you play?"
"A bit."
He nodded and walked out.
Finally! Just like a man! Stalking out the door and leaving me with the mess to clean up. Bastard! The things that Potter could do to a body…unbelievable! Oh I just hate him!
A hot burning rose in her throat and her eyes began to sting.
Serves me right for thinking it could ever come true. JUST SERVES ME RIGHT!
She stamped her foot furiously. Furious with him and furious with herself.
"Oh Ginny, do you play?" she mimicked his casual voice. "Yes, you bastard! A lot you know and a lot you care!"
A bit, she'd said. That's what she cared to let him know and what the Weasleys thought. They never knew that Ginny sat for hours in her room composing her own songs, which were so special to her and so dear, she didn't want anyone to hear them. She had to use a silencer she'd bought once from Hogsmeade to keep any sound she made, any tune, within the room and not outside of it.
And most of the bloody songs brought his bloody face into her head. Then he asks her, cool as you please, if she played.
She wanted to hurl the heavy turtle jewel box at him then put a memory charm on him to make him forget, just for her own physical satisfaction. And she would have, too, if she were not forbidden to do any spells outside of school. But the emotional hurt would remain even if she could do that.
* * *
It took Harry a great deal to keep himself from taking out his fury and regret on Ron's belonging by knocking them about, or strangling Pigwidgeon, which in that black mood would have dearly satisfied him. How could he have blundered like that? It wasn't like it was his first time confronting a girl.
He slid into bed and was glad that Ron was in no mood to talk but slipped into sleep like a quiet butterfly.
He wondered if the mistake he did somewhere was indelible. But then, he remembered something.
Ginny had said that he had done "nothing" and that was precisely the problem. What did she mean by that?
* * *
A/N: feel free to criticize the writing itself in your review…it would like to know what you think of that too…