Disclaimer- Yeah, like I'd be smart enough to think of Harry Potter but the
plot (cough cough) is actually mine.
SMALL authors note:
It has come to my attention that a couple of people have a small dislike for Ron in this story (they want his guts to string a tennis bat), which is a shame. He was hurt and insecure- so he lashed out and, well, would you mess with Ron when he was in that kind of mood?
So, you have got to like him soon because he may be coming back. What do you think? Should he?
Again- WHO WOULD LIKE AN UPDATE E-MAIL INFORMING YOU OF CHAPTER UPDATES? C'MON!!! I MADE A NEW FOLDER JUST FOR YOU GUYS!!!! IF YOU DO, LEAVE YOUR ADDRESS IN YOUR REVIEW AND SAY SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF 'SURE, I'D LIKE ONE!!!' THANK YOU.
Chapter 7:
"It always happens," she looked up and found him staring at her. It was strange, especially with those brown eyes but she thought nothing of it.
That is, until she got into her bathroom and checked her appearance and noticed she had ginger roots coming through in her hair.
Well, that explained the staring anyway. But luckily she had come prepared. Bending down and opening her bathroom cupboard, she looked for the bottle of black hair dye she had brought a couple of days ago.
It wasn't there.
She didn't need this aggravation so soon after Christmas.
"Crap," she muttered going down on her hands and knees and searched in the cupboard underneath her sink. Knocking over more than one bottle and container, she found it.
It was hiding behind a tub of soap and knocked on its side.
She wrenched the cap off and hurriedly started running the bath just hoping that here was still some hot water left.
~*~
"So how's business in the Law?"
She had been dreading this question for a while now. Harry was already suspicious about the ginger hair, the way she took her coffee and the fact she kept pausing before she spoke. She still had to remind herself to call him James- not Harry.
"Err," she began cleverly searching the floor for any ideas,
Her real job was a journalist for the muggle magazine. The only reason she hadn't changed her job was that she was pretty sure that he didn't read 'Cosmo Girl'. At least, she hoped not.
"Just.err.great thanks,"
He nodded unimpressed as he turned the page of some muggle newspaper,
"Uh-huh," he said looking over the top of it fixing his eyes on her.
Annoyingly, she noticed that the corners were creased- he was laughing at her.
At her.
"What?" she asked, throwing a magazine on the coffee table and glaring at him even though the laughter lines around his eyes had dissolved and he was obviously engrossed by a article.
Her only consolation was that she could just pick herself up and walk into her room if there was so much of a sign that he was winning any argument.
It wasn't like he could just barge in there like her brothers used to when she tried this trick on them. But then if he did, turning him into a sheep might blow her cover.
"It's just," he said slowly, finishing the end of the sentence he was reading, "You never say much about your life outside your room,"
That one stung. She didn't want to mix her life at work with her life her. Simple but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He had even gone back to his paper not waiting for an answer.
"Neither do you," she retorted,
"Ah touché," he replied, flicking his eyes up at her. Those lines around his eyes were back but she didn't do anything about except to stand up and get her self a mug of coffee and not offering to get him one.
~*~
"So," she said, settling herself into the old couch opposite his chair, "How's life in the BANK business,"
He had told her he worked at NatWest (a bank where my mum works!!! LOL!!! I get 50p every time I say that!!! Hee Hee!!! There is another way!!!) Which was a load of shit really.
He was bored out of his mind in an Auror office dealing with Dark Magic and Deatheaters. He would have killed himself within a week in a muggle bank dealing with the savings accounts of ten-year olds and pension plans for the over seventies.
His eyes flicked up but this time not looking amused but slightly panicked,
"Fine," he stated, "Never been a better time to be a.banker,"
She was really temped to say *coughBULLSHITcough* but she really didn't need to be on the streets homeless.
"Uh-huh," she copied from before, flicking a page over on the magazine she picked up again off the table.
"So," he said, his tone normal now, "When are you going back to work?"
Fair question. It was the 29th today (A/N: sorry- again- but I thought I'd mention that Dec 29th is my b.day!!! HaHa!!!) And she went back on the third of January.
Five more days of relaxation and that was it, back to work. Well, if London is anything like Manchester, it would just be sitting in a chair 9am-4pm and occasionally interviewing some muggle teen-age pop star.
"I go back on the third,"
He nodded, again engrossed in the paper. How can the 'Financial Times' be so interesting?
"And you?"
"Same,"
Why was she putting up with this? Was he incapable of any word involving more than two syllabubs when face with a page of writing and a conversation?
Standing up with a start, she gave him a deadeye and stalked over to her room making sure she slammed the door behind her.
Now she had nothing to do now.
This was his entire fault. She had forgotten how annoying he could be when he got into the mood- he had been living with Ron too long.
~*~
30th December
Paige didn't know anyone in London- except Harry of course. And, she supposed, Ron and Hermione as well but she didn't really want to see either of them.
But it looked like Harry was in contact with them either. He had no owl and in his address book he had no phone or address of his or hers.
She never hated Ron or Hermione but it was almost certain that at least Ron hated her. From time to time, she would wonder where they were, what they were doing whether Ron was still incapable of washing his own clothes.
Harry was talking to her now,
"Have you got any family?"
She tucked a couple of strands of hair behind her ear and looked up at him. He seemed genuinely interested but what was she going to say?
"I did," she began, choosing her words carefully, "My parent died a couple of years ago,"
No recognition in his eyes or in behaviour, it wasn't that uncommon for people's relatives to die,
"Sorry," he said after a moment, "I never knew mine so I can kind of relate,"
She'd know that he was an orphan almost all her life but Paige didn't,
"Oh," she said trying to look like this was new information "Sorry as well,"
"Don't be," he replied tonelessly "I never knew them,"
He stabbed a piece of pasta on his plate as he said this. Ginny knew it wasn't because of her, or at least she hoped so.
They sat in silence; the only sounds were the pigeons cooing on the fire escape and the boiler filling up again after her bath. Just as she put some pasta in her mouth Harry asked her,
"Any brothers or sisters?"
She had to chew for a while so giving herself some time to think of an answer. Her being an only child would be too convenient,
"One brother," she said after swallowing the food in her mouth, "But we don't get along any more,"
Why? Oh why was she cursed with no brains?
She dared a glance up at her roommate; he was starching his cheek and looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling,
"Let me guess," he said, with his eyes still fixed at the ceiling, "He blames you for their death,"
She grinned sheepishly though really she was relived- he had given her an escape,
"Yeah, something like that,"
Again, they sat in silence but unlike the last one, this felt unnatural as if he had questions that he knew better not to ask.
His eyes went straight from the ceiling down to his plate. She had discovered that he couldn't cook to save his life. At least he was honest about it- on the first day he had mentioned that baked beans, toast and pot noodles were about all he could do.
"Doing anything for new year?"
He had woken her up out of a day dream- again,
"Er no actually," she answered felling like a social retard, "I only know you, the pizza delivery guy and that old lady next door in this area,"
Instead of laughing, he gave an understanding smile,
"I know the feeling,"
That figured seeing as the only people he knew well lived about thirty miles away and it seemed they weren't on the best of terms.
But Harry, at least she hoped, he had friends at work. He was likable and didn't seem like he had been alone for two years without a friends or- girlfriends.
"How bout' you?" she said for no reason except to get his stare off her, "Any parties planned?"
This time he laughed. Placing his cutlery carefully, and slowly, down on his plate before he responded to her question,
"Couple of invitations, but I have a feeling that everyone will be getting stoned,"
"Ah," she commented "Small problem,"
"Kind of,"
They stared at each other for a moment before Ginny realised she had finished her meal and it was just lying there.
Standing up and picking up her plate, she walked over to the sink painfully aware that Harry was watching her all the way.
The rubber ends of the chair screeched on the wooden floor as Harry stood up and walked over to her by the sink.
"Do you want to head up to Trafalgar Square together tomorrow evening?"
Ginny shook her head- she hadn't heard right.
Harry had just asked, however tentatively, her if she wanted to spent new years with him.
"Oh," he stuttered, obviously taken aback "Ok, thought I'd ask anyways,"
"No," she interrupted, "I mean- I'd love to. I've never been to Trafalgar on new years."
A smile broke out over his face waking his eyes light up- even behind his contacts.
"It's interesting," he joked, "Just be prepared for some alcohol and a late night,"
With one last boyish grin, left his plate on the side, he walked off out of the room and sliding into the living room.
She was so happy that she finally had somewhere to go at night instead of being indoors with nothing to do except watching muggle children's Christmas films. She was so happy in fact that that she didn't realise Harry had left her plate for her to wash up until she heard his bedroom door bang shut.
Authors Note:
Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!!
That's what my stories are.
Anyway, I don't suppose any one that reads this fic comes from the UK or Ireland and has seen the Comic Relief advert. If you have- this will not make sense to anyone else- HA! Did you see Trevor as Malfoy?
Also- no one complain about this being short- I know I didn't descried ANYTHING- it's six pages long.
SMALL authors note:
It has come to my attention that a couple of people have a small dislike for Ron in this story (they want his guts to string a tennis bat), which is a shame. He was hurt and insecure- so he lashed out and, well, would you mess with Ron when he was in that kind of mood?
So, you have got to like him soon because he may be coming back. What do you think? Should he?
Again- WHO WOULD LIKE AN UPDATE E-MAIL INFORMING YOU OF CHAPTER UPDATES? C'MON!!! I MADE A NEW FOLDER JUST FOR YOU GUYS!!!! IF YOU DO, LEAVE YOUR ADDRESS IN YOUR REVIEW AND SAY SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF 'SURE, I'D LIKE ONE!!!' THANK YOU.
Chapter 7:
"It always happens," she looked up and found him staring at her. It was strange, especially with those brown eyes but she thought nothing of it.
That is, until she got into her bathroom and checked her appearance and noticed she had ginger roots coming through in her hair.
Well, that explained the staring anyway. But luckily she had come prepared. Bending down and opening her bathroom cupboard, she looked for the bottle of black hair dye she had brought a couple of days ago.
It wasn't there.
She didn't need this aggravation so soon after Christmas.
"Crap," she muttered going down on her hands and knees and searched in the cupboard underneath her sink. Knocking over more than one bottle and container, she found it.
It was hiding behind a tub of soap and knocked on its side.
She wrenched the cap off and hurriedly started running the bath just hoping that here was still some hot water left.
~*~
"So how's business in the Law?"
She had been dreading this question for a while now. Harry was already suspicious about the ginger hair, the way she took her coffee and the fact she kept pausing before she spoke. She still had to remind herself to call him James- not Harry.
"Err," she began cleverly searching the floor for any ideas,
Her real job was a journalist for the muggle magazine. The only reason she hadn't changed her job was that she was pretty sure that he didn't read 'Cosmo Girl'. At least, she hoped not.
"Just.err.great thanks,"
He nodded unimpressed as he turned the page of some muggle newspaper,
"Uh-huh," he said looking over the top of it fixing his eyes on her.
Annoyingly, she noticed that the corners were creased- he was laughing at her.
At her.
"What?" she asked, throwing a magazine on the coffee table and glaring at him even though the laughter lines around his eyes had dissolved and he was obviously engrossed by a article.
Her only consolation was that she could just pick herself up and walk into her room if there was so much of a sign that he was winning any argument.
It wasn't like he could just barge in there like her brothers used to when she tried this trick on them. But then if he did, turning him into a sheep might blow her cover.
"It's just," he said slowly, finishing the end of the sentence he was reading, "You never say much about your life outside your room,"
That one stung. She didn't want to mix her life at work with her life her. Simple but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He had even gone back to his paper not waiting for an answer.
"Neither do you," she retorted,
"Ah touché," he replied, flicking his eyes up at her. Those lines around his eyes were back but she didn't do anything about except to stand up and get her self a mug of coffee and not offering to get him one.
~*~
"So," she said, settling herself into the old couch opposite his chair, "How's life in the BANK business,"
He had told her he worked at NatWest (a bank where my mum works!!! LOL!!! I get 50p every time I say that!!! Hee Hee!!! There is another way!!!) Which was a load of shit really.
He was bored out of his mind in an Auror office dealing with Dark Magic and Deatheaters. He would have killed himself within a week in a muggle bank dealing with the savings accounts of ten-year olds and pension plans for the over seventies.
His eyes flicked up but this time not looking amused but slightly panicked,
"Fine," he stated, "Never been a better time to be a.banker,"
She was really temped to say *coughBULLSHITcough* but she really didn't need to be on the streets homeless.
"Uh-huh," she copied from before, flicking a page over on the magazine she picked up again off the table.
"So," he said, his tone normal now, "When are you going back to work?"
Fair question. It was the 29th today (A/N: sorry- again- but I thought I'd mention that Dec 29th is my b.day!!! HaHa!!!) And she went back on the third of January.
Five more days of relaxation and that was it, back to work. Well, if London is anything like Manchester, it would just be sitting in a chair 9am-4pm and occasionally interviewing some muggle teen-age pop star.
"I go back on the third,"
He nodded, again engrossed in the paper. How can the 'Financial Times' be so interesting?
"And you?"
"Same,"
Why was she putting up with this? Was he incapable of any word involving more than two syllabubs when face with a page of writing and a conversation?
Standing up with a start, she gave him a deadeye and stalked over to her room making sure she slammed the door behind her.
Now she had nothing to do now.
This was his entire fault. She had forgotten how annoying he could be when he got into the mood- he had been living with Ron too long.
~*~
30th December
Paige didn't know anyone in London- except Harry of course. And, she supposed, Ron and Hermione as well but she didn't really want to see either of them.
But it looked like Harry was in contact with them either. He had no owl and in his address book he had no phone or address of his or hers.
She never hated Ron or Hermione but it was almost certain that at least Ron hated her. From time to time, she would wonder where they were, what they were doing whether Ron was still incapable of washing his own clothes.
Harry was talking to her now,
"Have you got any family?"
She tucked a couple of strands of hair behind her ear and looked up at him. He seemed genuinely interested but what was she going to say?
"I did," she began, choosing her words carefully, "My parent died a couple of years ago,"
No recognition in his eyes or in behaviour, it wasn't that uncommon for people's relatives to die,
"Sorry," he said after a moment, "I never knew mine so I can kind of relate,"
She'd know that he was an orphan almost all her life but Paige didn't,
"Oh," she said trying to look like this was new information "Sorry as well,"
"Don't be," he replied tonelessly "I never knew them,"
He stabbed a piece of pasta on his plate as he said this. Ginny knew it wasn't because of her, or at least she hoped so.
They sat in silence; the only sounds were the pigeons cooing on the fire escape and the boiler filling up again after her bath. Just as she put some pasta in her mouth Harry asked her,
"Any brothers or sisters?"
She had to chew for a while so giving herself some time to think of an answer. Her being an only child would be too convenient,
"One brother," she said after swallowing the food in her mouth, "But we don't get along any more,"
Why? Oh why was she cursed with no brains?
She dared a glance up at her roommate; he was starching his cheek and looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling,
"Let me guess," he said, with his eyes still fixed at the ceiling, "He blames you for their death,"
She grinned sheepishly though really she was relived- he had given her an escape,
"Yeah, something like that,"
Again, they sat in silence but unlike the last one, this felt unnatural as if he had questions that he knew better not to ask.
His eyes went straight from the ceiling down to his plate. She had discovered that he couldn't cook to save his life. At least he was honest about it- on the first day he had mentioned that baked beans, toast and pot noodles were about all he could do.
"Doing anything for new year?"
He had woken her up out of a day dream- again,
"Er no actually," she answered felling like a social retard, "I only know you, the pizza delivery guy and that old lady next door in this area,"
Instead of laughing, he gave an understanding smile,
"I know the feeling,"
That figured seeing as the only people he knew well lived about thirty miles away and it seemed they weren't on the best of terms.
But Harry, at least she hoped, he had friends at work. He was likable and didn't seem like he had been alone for two years without a friends or- girlfriends.
"How bout' you?" she said for no reason except to get his stare off her, "Any parties planned?"
This time he laughed. Placing his cutlery carefully, and slowly, down on his plate before he responded to her question,
"Couple of invitations, but I have a feeling that everyone will be getting stoned,"
"Ah," she commented "Small problem,"
"Kind of,"
They stared at each other for a moment before Ginny realised she had finished her meal and it was just lying there.
Standing up and picking up her plate, she walked over to the sink painfully aware that Harry was watching her all the way.
The rubber ends of the chair screeched on the wooden floor as Harry stood up and walked over to her by the sink.
"Do you want to head up to Trafalgar Square together tomorrow evening?"
Ginny shook her head- she hadn't heard right.
Harry had just asked, however tentatively, her if she wanted to spent new years with him.
"Oh," he stuttered, obviously taken aback "Ok, thought I'd ask anyways,"
"No," she interrupted, "I mean- I'd love to. I've never been to Trafalgar on new years."
A smile broke out over his face waking his eyes light up- even behind his contacts.
"It's interesting," he joked, "Just be prepared for some alcohol and a late night,"
With one last boyish grin, left his plate on the side, he walked off out of the room and sliding into the living room.
She was so happy that she finally had somewhere to go at night instead of being indoors with nothing to do except watching muggle children's Christmas films. She was so happy in fact that that she didn't realise Harry had left her plate for her to wash up until she heard his bedroom door bang shut.
Authors Note:
Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!! Crap!!!
That's what my stories are.
Anyway, I don't suppose any one that reads this fic comes from the UK or Ireland and has seen the Comic Relief advert. If you have- this will not make sense to anyone else- HA! Did you see Trevor as Malfoy?
Also- no one complain about this being short- I know I didn't descried ANYTHING- it's six pages long.