The Weasley Trap by Ziegod Lizski
Chapter 4
Fred mumbled to himself, coming down the stairway and looking over the common room, spotting his sister in what appeared to be a rather intimate conversation with none other than the great Harry Potter, Hogwarts' resident hottie. As much as it angered him to see his baby sister (who, although he teased, he still watched over like a redheaded hawk) being encroached upon by a male, the trickster side of his brain still appreciated the possibilities that this situation offered. Skinny Ginny and Hotter Potter? They'd certainly be easier to set up than the odd couple.
Um, here's your quill, Harry said resolutely, determined to beat out his...other brain. It wasn't as if he'd never spoken to a girl, either. But just not a girl whose freckles danced when she laughed, or whose nose crinkled when she tried not to smile, or whose eyes seemed to hide so much in their mahogany depths. He berated himself for never noticing that her hair, unlike that of Ron's, had hints of gold in it that sparkled when they caught in the fire's glow.
Ginny was just so...Ginny. Harry had been chased by his share of girls, but most sought him because of his fame. With their kilograms of makeup, they just seemed so fake...But there was just something special about Ginny Weasley––he hadn't noticed it until this year. She seemed to get prettier by the day, without the aid of makeup or beautifying potions. While other girls feigned modesty, Ginny blushed genuinely whenever someone recognized that she was not, in fact, invisible. He sometimes wished that she weren't so shy, so that he could talk to her (she had hardly spoken a word since he found her in the Chamber of Secrets second year, after all). But then again, if she weren't so shy, she wouldn't be Ginny.
Breaking Harry's train of thought, Fred noisily clomped down the stairs and butted in.
Why are you crawling about on the floor, Virginia dear? a broad grin spread across his face. Have you lost something?
Only my sanity, Harry mumbled as Ginny's ears pinked.
Oh, and by the way, George said in a fake motherly voice, You two would make the most darling couple.
Both Harry and Ginny flushed scarlet, jumping apart at George's words, deathly afraid that he was reading their minds.
***
As it was a Friday night, most of the house was gathered in the common room hanging out, simply enjoying the feeling that comes with the knowledge that they had two Potions-free days ahead of them. In the way that was custom, the boys sat on one side of the room and the girls on the other. Hermione was the one exception to this rule. She found girls to be catty and flippant. Boys, of course, were––were––
Britney Spears is so hot, said Dean Thomas, a dreamy look on his face.
She's not just hot. She's caliente.
Muy caliente.
At this point, Ron chipped in. I'm sorry, but no amount of Spanish words for hot' will make me believe that Britney Spears is beautiful.
Ron, you know who Britney Spears is? Hermione looked at him with interest.
Everyone knows who Britney is. With breasts that big, she's kinda hard to miss...I don't think she's that pretty though.
Seamus Finnigan exclaimed.
Fred grinned. And just who do you think is pretty, Ronny?
Hermi––I mean, er, you know, girls who don't spend as much money on makeup as could feed an entire third world country. Ron blushed Ron Red and suddenly became very interested in examining his hands.
Hermione watched him––She knew those hands, the knobby knuckles, the bony fingers. She knew the bitten fingernails (dreadful habit, he'd always sworn to quit), knew the faded script sprawled across the back of his left hand, assignments he tried not to forget. She even knew the spots of ink that clung to his cuticles, stains impossible to clean. She knew––she knew...She knew him. She. Loved. Him. Not in the maudlin, melodramatic way that existed only in the muggle movies she had been raised on, but in a quirky way. He was her buffer zone, the one who kept her from becoming totally absorbed in her studies. As much as she hated it, he reminded her that there were, in fact, some things more important that grades––Friendship, for instance. And compassion. And love.
***
Fred found George seated on a bench out on the grounds.
Oi! George! I have the most brilliant beyond brilliant idea to get our lovely couples together!
George replied, not looking up from the swimsuit edition of Quidditch Illustrated, as he turned it sideways to get a better look at one of the models.
We'll throw a dance party, just like in those muggle movies Dad got! It'll be sure to work. You know, the two friends see each other all dressed up and fall in love!
Now he had George's attention. Like that one with Mandy Moore? She was pretty hot.
Fred smiled. 'Mione needs a makeover, too. The girl always gets a makeover.
Yeah, and a wonderbra.
Well, I suppose Ron could use some more endowment in the chest area.
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I believe I made a mistake in the last chapter. I said George's lanky arms when I really meant Ron's lanky arms. Terribly sorry if that confused you; I've just been a little sleep deprived lately, and I just finished a George/Hermione fic, which must have thrown me off. Well, now that AP exams arre over, I don't have any excuse not to write. I've got a mild case of writer's block right now, so any tips/ideas would be welcome. Just review or write to ziegod@aol.com. If I don't get enough reviews (I'm hoping for a total of 65), I'm going to make the twins do the macarenaI have good advice for anyone trying to survive school––listen to gansta rap. It's an excellent substitute for therapy. The world is just so cathartic.