Dancing

Chapter 4

In which Ginny has a rousing argument with Harry over Jason

Disclaimer: Not Mine. (If you need more than that, hit the back button on your screen until you get back to some sort of menu, and choose a random story.  Look at that author's disclaimer, take it to heart, and come back.  Then review!!)

Ummmm…am I allowed to say no comment? No?...Nyehhh…no comment. Oh, but sorry this took so long.

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                Winter had crept up on the school once again, and the halls suddenly seemed empty, as they were wont to do this time of year.  Ginny had a hunch this was in part because the paintings had the habits of finding deserted hallways, crowding into a few of the bigger landscape paintings, and holding large, drunken parties.  She had never caught them at it, however, so she said nothing to her friends. It was, though, a generally welcome quiet.

                Outside the window at breakfast that Saturday, the grounds seemed like a veritable winter wonderland.  Snowbanks made their careful way towards the still-open lake, which rippled and convulsed every once and a while when the Giant Squid shivered and sneezed.  Hagrid's hut resembled a tiny gingerbread house, puffing candy clouds of blue smoke from the chimney.  Even the Forbidden Forest was coldly happy, with various beast tracks leading into and out of it.

                All of the remaining students had been seated for the holiday around a large, round, polished wood table near the front of the Great Hall.  Steaming tureens of oatmeal sat in front of each content face, and when everyone had been seated, they dug in with the hunger and faint chill only a winter morning can bring.  The teachers, seated among the students, mostly tried in vain to keep the topics of conversation to something at least somewhat school-related, which was not easy with Headmaster Dumbledore telling a variety of borderline jokes that had the upper classes snorting into their bowls, and the few younger pupils turning to each other with vaguely confused expressions. 

                There were more students staying than most years. This was mostly due to the fact that Hufflepuff's Quidditch captain had decided that Christmas hols were a delightful time to get in bonus practice on an abandoned pitch, and, not wanting a disadvantage when term started again, the three other teams soon signed up to stay as well. 

                In between mouthfuls of sugary oatmeal, Ron was telling Ginny how "…bloody unfair it is, I tell you…off to Romania to visit Charlie again! … You'd think they'd at least stay home one Christmas – one bloody Christmas…"

                Before he could start again Ginny not-so-gently interrupted him. "You're only upset because they won't let you come and see the dragons, too.  Bill and Charlie live half a world away; they only see them at Christmas.  They can see you any time they want, which is precisely why they don't."  She then hurriedly turned to avoid the inevitable backlash.  Ginny hadn't, after all, lived with six older brothers for fifteen years without developing a tongue as acid as theirs, but she had yet to perfect the avoidance of verbal vengeance.

                Hermione was on her other side, listening with detached skepticism as a sixth year Ravenclaw repeated Dumbledore's latest questionable joke very loudly to his friend right beside him.  Seeing Ginny turn in her direction, she tilted her head towards the younger girl.  "Honestly, he's the headmaster for God's sakes! Isn't he supposed to set some sort of example for the rest of us?  What kind of witches and wizards do they expect to come out of this school when this is all we're exposed to?"

                "They expect us all to be just like you, Hermione, which is the frightening thing.  I mean, seriously, if Fred and George were telling those jokes…"

                "Then no one would pay attention, because they always told jokes like that.  But the Headmaster is, well, the Headmaster, which means that the younger students.."

                "Will, presumably, try to emulate him in every way, including growing a fairly huge beard and wearing purple robes all the time.  Hermione, really.  They're impressionable, yes, but at least they're more likely to listen to every word Dumbledore says instead of, say…"

                "Snape!!" 

This last was said, quite loudly, in unison by the girls, who promptly burst into equally loud giggles, causing most people at the table to give them the Look before turning back to their own conversations, and the professor in question to narrow his eyes at them menacingly.

Forcibly containing themselves, the girls tried to concentrate on eating normally.  When the meal was over and the dishes had been recalled to the kitchen, Dumbledore stood, effectively silencing the room. 

"As you all know," he announced slowly, quietly, easily commanding attention as per usual, "Today was scheduled to be a Hogsmeade excursion." Anxious chatter broke out.  Was the trip to be cancelled?  "And, as there are no world crises on our doorstep, and the weather, according to the lovely Professor Sinistra, will be wonderful…" Here, the chatter took on a buzzing, excited feel, "I urge you to have fun –but dress warmly!  Wonderful doesn't mean warm!  Oh, and any colored or screaming snowballs will be confiscated for –safety- reasons." With this weird pronouncement the ever-twinkling Headmaster sat down again, and students started drifting away from the table, heading to their common rooms to either prepare for the walk to Hogsmeade or to lament about their unfortunate youth.  Ginny rose from the table and trailed Hermione, Ron and Harry to the portrait of the Fat Lady.  They were deep in conversation about who-knows-what.  Although Ginny was pretty sure she heard snips of conversation involving 'Lockhart', 'tevelision', 'prat', 'overgrown bat' and such, she was entirely sure she did not want the full story, and therefore made no effort to join their conversation. 

Once in her dormitory room, Ginny rummaged through her trunk for the small pouch containing the little spending money she had procured over the summer working in the Lovegood's family garden near Ottery St. Catchpole.  The small embroidered bag felt painfully light in her hands, but Ginny hadn't many more presents to buy; if she was lucky she would have a little bit left over with which to buy herself something for Christmas…

The walk to Hogsmeade was gorgeous. Ginny was walking with her brother, Hermione and Harry, along with countless other students towards the village.  Their breath vaporized in front of them in tiny clouds, and the new snow crunched under their feet.  Seeing as Dumbledore had forbidden them to make and throw colored and shrieking snowballs, these wet missiles were flying everywhere.  Ron streaked by in front of Ginny and Hermione, who were walking calmly and civilly, with Harry charging after him, purple snow falling off his head and down the back of his cloak, green snowball at the ready.  The girls, though, however innocent they looked, were plotting.  When Harry and Ron rejoined them, flushed and damp, Hermione hesitated only a few second before giving an almost imperceptible nod.  She and Ginny whipped huge chunks of snow from behind their backs, which immediately started sprouting bad disco music.  Harry's glasses were full of snow, and he tripped over an outstretched foot of Ron, who was shaking like a wet dog to get the snow off him.  Harry fell into a large (white and silent) snow bank, and Ron, still shaking, lost his balance and fell on top of him.  Ginny and Hermione were also on the ground, convulsing in laughter.  It was some minutes before they could be convinced that standing upright and containing their giggles was, in fact, possible.

The Three Broomsticks, although crowded, was not the packed affair it usually was on a Hogsmeade weekend.  In fact, the two Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were nearly the only ones there.  Since most of the students who had remained at Hogwarts were Quidditch players, the local branch of Quality Quidditch Supplies was no doubt flooded with eager players, Galleons at the ready.  Madame Rosmerta, after bringing their large foaming mugs of butterbeer to the table, retreated behind her counter, humming the latest Weird Sisters number and wiping absently at an imaginary water stain on the immaculate bar.  Ginny, sitting next to Ron at the edge of the table, had trotted off to her own world, unaware of the conversation the three sixth years were having beside her.  The room seemed cold to Ginny despite the fire popping and crackling in the hearth.  Pulling her warm cloak more tightly around her body, she sipped her drink, staring into space, barely thinking.  She flinched slightly when she felt the frigid gust of wind that signified the opening and closing of the Three Broomsticks' door, and looked behind her instinctively to see who else had foregone premium broomstick wax and designer twig trimmers for a warming butterbeer.  Ginny stiffened and quickly turned back to her friends when she saw the all-too-familiar form of Jason Thibeault shaking melting snow off of his cloak.  Her sudden movement had drawn Ron's attention, who waved Jason over to their table, stilling Harry's annoyed and disgusted look with a hissed, "He's our captain, Harry.  Bloody hell, am I supposed to let him go sit in a corner by himself, giving him ample time to think about even more plays to try and teach us?"

Well this is so much better, Ginny thought Now you've got him at our table, probably with the intention of talking about, guess what? Quidditch!

Indeed, as soon as Jason sat down, directly across from Ginny, he asked Harry if he had seen the brand-new Quidditch robes that were displayed in the window of the Quidditch supply store.  Ginny struggled to space out again, which wasn't really all that easy with Jason's head directly in front of the blank space in the wall she had been contemplating earlier.

Conversation, although halted at first, soon began to flow fast and furious, at least among the boys, with Hermione involving herself every once in a while to correct one of their most obvious flaws, citing Hogwarts: A History as a major source.  Ginny found herself excluded, not maliciously or even unpleasantly so, but it irked her all the same.  Butterbeer mug drained, she stood to get a refill.  Perhaps I'll sit at the bar.  It would be a change of scenery, anyway.  Maybe Madame Rosmerta has some interesting things on her mind…she sure looks like she's thinking –happy thoughts…

"Hey, Gin!  Where're you going?" Harry asked, turning in her direction mid-sentence.

"Nowhere.  Bar.  Refill," Ginny replied haltingly, gesturing vaguely at her empty glass. She felt suddenly and annoyingly self-conscious under the scrutiny of four pairs of eyes.  Huh.  They really do realize I exist.  Imagine that, she thought, allowing herself a tiny smirk as she turned with a completely superfluous flourish and heading towards the bar.  

Scrutinizing the foam of her warm butterbeer, Ginny didn't hear the footsteps approaching from behind her. When a hand was placed right beside her arm on the bar, Ginny was so surprised she jumped, spilling a little of the beverage on her cloak.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," Jason quickly apologized.  He reached for the cloth Madame Rosmerta had left on the bar, but Ginny beat him to it and started dabbing at the spot.

"Don't worry about it.  There's so much on this cloak I doubt anyone will be able to tell there's one more stain."

"I don't think they look too bad."

"Trust me on this one.  They used to be noticeably bluer."

"They were blue?"

"Told ya."

Jason shook his head, smiling, and, taking the mug of butterbeer that had mysteriously appeared on the counter for him, turned to head back to the booth, where Hermione and Ron had nearly come to blows regarding, well, some obscure aspect of the game of Quidditch Ginny would prefer to remain in ignorance of.

Next to come over to the bar for a refill was Harry.  It was hard to tell whether he was there more to escape Ron and Hermione's bickering or Jason's…existence. 

"Hey, Gin.  How're you doing?"

"Alright.  Why?"

"Jason's being a prig."

"He is no…Why?"  Ginny honestly could not tell what Harry had against Jason, even when trying to look at the situation objectively.

"Well…He's so…He never, ever pays attention in Advanced Transfiguration, but McGonagall gives him close to perfect marks anyways.  Madam Hooch thinks he's heaven on earth, and…"

"Jealous, are we?  Imagine that," Ginny interrupted, turning to talk to an imaginary spectator on her other side, gesturing to her brother's best friend over her shoulder.  "The-Boy-Who-Lived feels threatened by his Quidditch captain.  That's one for the record books."

"Oh, honestly, Ginny, with the looks you give him all the time it's no wonder you can see him for what he really is, a…"
                "A what?  A great, French, Quidditch-playing Dementor in disguise?  Really, Harry. Grow up."

"Fine, Ginny.  Be like that.  But, come on.  You're nearly like my little sister.  The closest I've ever had, anyway.  And trust me when I say that that bloke is bad news.  Really bad news."

It was all Ginny could do to gape, open-mouthed, at Harry's back as he retreated to the table.  What was that all about?  I'm already… she forced herself to think it getting over him.  It's not like it was even ever a possibility.  He practically just told me to stay away from him.  Like I'm there, all the time, fawning over him or something.  Honestly…

And with that last, disgruntled comment, Ginny became mystified by the swirling blue liquid in a bottle behind the counter, and drifted apathetically into space again, sipping the foam of her butterbeer and waiting for the afternoon to be over.

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Hoo-eee!  Betcha didn't see that coming!  (Don't worry, neither did I)  As for external (eg Darkness and Evil) plot, don't look for too much, this is more focusing (if you hadn't noticed) on Ginny and Emotion, not Magic, Hogwarts, and the Mystical Battle against the Dark Side.  Sorry.  Anyway, review, please, it's what keeps the chapters coming! (Quite seriously.  If I hadn't gotten a few specific reviews koff*kravenclaw*koff* this chapter may have never found the inspiration and energy it needed.  And, as always, thanks to Kim who is acting as my Beta and constant nag, trying to get me to finish this chappie.  Yay!

Buh-byes!