Hermione yelped as Harry shoved her to the floor and staggered out of
the room, gasping for breath. Ginny hastily followed after him, leaving Ron
to explain everything to the angry girl sprawled out on the floor. Holding
out a hand and pulling a rather shocked and confused Hermione off the
ground, Ron detailed her about the day's rather dramatic events.
"Wait...so how did he break them again?" asked Hermione, after Ron had finished his ten-minute story.
"HE didn't break them; his Uncle did," said Ron. "But we don't really know how it all happened."
Hermione dropped her gaze to the floor and considered this new information. "I see." Looking up, she glanced towards where Harry had left the room. "I'm going to go ask him about it." She and Ron jogged down the first-floor hallway, and found Harry and Ginny in the bathroom.
Ginny was sitting on the tile floor with her back leaning against the side of the bathtub, and Harry was looking pitiful, lying on the floor with his head face-down in Ginny's lap. His eyes were softly closed and he was hugging Ginny's legs instinctively.
"That's SO gross! Ginny, get his head out of your lap!" cried Ron, lurching backwards in a fit of repulsion. His sister glared at him over her sharply bent knees.
Hermione knelt next to Harry and stroked the side of his cheek. "Harry, I'm sorry...," she said, resting her head on Ginny's shoulder as she leaned towards him. "Is he sleeping?"
"No," responded a muffled male voice.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," cooed Hermione, petting his hair. "Are you okay?"
"Sort-of," he answered. "Ron, I'm sorry about the condition of your sink."
Ron leaned over the sink and noticed a thin layer of blood dripping down the sides.
"I couldn't wash it all down," continued Harry.
"It's okay, mate, don't worry about it," quickly answered Ron. "You think you'll be fit for the barbecue? Dad's nuts about that Muggle food-burning thing he found."
"Yeah, I can go," said Harry, "I'm just a bit dizzy is all. I don't think I'll be able to eat much."
"That's just fine, as long as you're not, like, dying or anything. You know."
"I know," answered Harry with a smile that was buried in Ginny's upper thigh. Hermione and Ron left the room and headed towards the backyard, where Mr. Weasley was experimenting with his latest Muggle contraption: a red barbecue. Ginny, still in the bathroom, ran her hand lazily up and down Harry's shoulder.
"You alright? Think you can stand?" At these words, Harry slapped a hand on the floor and used it as a lever to push his torso up. With incredible effort, he was able to stand up in a matter of seconds. He helped Ginny to her feet, and she led him out the door. Looking up at Harry's face, she noticed that he was a sickly pale color. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good."
Harry smirked. "Gee, thanks. Maybe I should've checked a mirror before I left."
"No!" exclaimed Ginny. "I don't mean it like that! What I meant was...you look kind of nauseous."
"I am," he responded, "You never got me those painkillers, and I'm still feeling Hermione's hug...that's why I was laying on top of you for over ten minutes."
Ginny appeared a bit surprised at this information, but relayed it to Harry as a girlish smirk. "Oh...I just thought you liked having your face in a girl's crotch."
Harry stopped dead at these words and stared at Ginny with his mouth hanging fully open. "WHAT?? You think I'm some kind of pervert cradle- robber?" Ginny laughed, but Harry was still offended. "No! Don't laugh! That was horrible!" he cried, his eyes shining with indignation. "You're only fourteen! You shouldn't be talking about oral sex!"
"For God's sake, I was joking!" exclaimed Ginny with a smile. "Don't give me those hurt-puppy eyes; I know that you didn't have any sort of hidden sexual motives behind your actions." She grabbed Harry's arm and forced him to walk further down the hallway with her. "Let's go do something about those ribs of yours."
Little did they know that Fred and George were tagging behind them.
"I've got a great spell, Harry." The target of this comment whirled around like frightened cat, causing the twins to stumble backwards.
"Gods, lad," cried George, still reeling from his near-fall, "Don't be so jumpy." Harry laughed, but Ginny just shook her head.
"Anyway," began Fred, "I know of a great spell that will make you feel NOTHING."
"Really?" exclaimed Harry, intrigued and somewhat relieved. "What is it?"
Fred instructed Harry to close his eyes, and once he did, he felt a strange feeling of warmth come over him. All at once, the agonizing pain in his chest was completely gone, and he felt deliriously happy. He opened his eyes and began grinning madly. "Thanks, mates! I don't feel anything!" He turned and meant to skip into the living room, but instead unintentionally smacked his face right into the wall. Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth and offered help, but Harry hopped right back to his feet and started skipping again, this time making it into the living room but accidentally toppling over the side of the sofa.
"Erm...there ARE a few side effects to that spell...," said George, watching Harry (who was still beaming with unnatural happiness) trip and fall for the fifth time.
"Oh no," said Ginny, glaring at her brothers, "You didn't use that spell on Harry that made the neighbor's cat look drunk, did you?"
The twins exchanged glances. "Well," began Fred, "You're right, we might have used the same spell." Ginny opened her mouth to yell, but George silenced her and let Fred continue his explanation. "BUT- since Mittens was a lot smaller than Harry, the spell doesn't work as strongly. I mean, Mittens was yowling and throwing himself at the wall, but Harry's just tripping over things. You see?" Ginny suppressed a guilty laugh as she noticed Harry stumble over his own feet and slam his head against the corner of the coffee table.
"Still..." she reasoned, cocking her head to one side, "That's kind of sad to watch." Harry tried to throw himself onto the couch for safety, but managed to tumble over the arm of the sofa and roll across the carpet like a wagon wheel. He got up, dusted off his sweater, and actually was able to walk towards the three Weasleys without tripping once.
"You guys ready for some barbecue?" he asked breathlessly, blood running down his face from a gash in his forehead. "I sure am!" He turned and ran towards the direction of the backyard.
"Wait...so how did he break them again?" asked Hermione, after Ron had finished his ten-minute story.
"HE didn't break them; his Uncle did," said Ron. "But we don't really know how it all happened."
Hermione dropped her gaze to the floor and considered this new information. "I see." Looking up, she glanced towards where Harry had left the room. "I'm going to go ask him about it." She and Ron jogged down the first-floor hallway, and found Harry and Ginny in the bathroom.
Ginny was sitting on the tile floor with her back leaning against the side of the bathtub, and Harry was looking pitiful, lying on the floor with his head face-down in Ginny's lap. His eyes were softly closed and he was hugging Ginny's legs instinctively.
"That's SO gross! Ginny, get his head out of your lap!" cried Ron, lurching backwards in a fit of repulsion. His sister glared at him over her sharply bent knees.
Hermione knelt next to Harry and stroked the side of his cheek. "Harry, I'm sorry...," she said, resting her head on Ginny's shoulder as she leaned towards him. "Is he sleeping?"
"No," responded a muffled male voice.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," cooed Hermione, petting his hair. "Are you okay?"
"Sort-of," he answered. "Ron, I'm sorry about the condition of your sink."
Ron leaned over the sink and noticed a thin layer of blood dripping down the sides.
"I couldn't wash it all down," continued Harry.
"It's okay, mate, don't worry about it," quickly answered Ron. "You think you'll be fit for the barbecue? Dad's nuts about that Muggle food-burning thing he found."
"Yeah, I can go," said Harry, "I'm just a bit dizzy is all. I don't think I'll be able to eat much."
"That's just fine, as long as you're not, like, dying or anything. You know."
"I know," answered Harry with a smile that was buried in Ginny's upper thigh. Hermione and Ron left the room and headed towards the backyard, where Mr. Weasley was experimenting with his latest Muggle contraption: a red barbecue. Ginny, still in the bathroom, ran her hand lazily up and down Harry's shoulder.
"You alright? Think you can stand?" At these words, Harry slapped a hand on the floor and used it as a lever to push his torso up. With incredible effort, he was able to stand up in a matter of seconds. He helped Ginny to her feet, and she led him out the door. Looking up at Harry's face, she noticed that he was a sickly pale color. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good."
Harry smirked. "Gee, thanks. Maybe I should've checked a mirror before I left."
"No!" exclaimed Ginny. "I don't mean it like that! What I meant was...you look kind of nauseous."
"I am," he responded, "You never got me those painkillers, and I'm still feeling Hermione's hug...that's why I was laying on top of you for over ten minutes."
Ginny appeared a bit surprised at this information, but relayed it to Harry as a girlish smirk. "Oh...I just thought you liked having your face in a girl's crotch."
Harry stopped dead at these words and stared at Ginny with his mouth hanging fully open. "WHAT?? You think I'm some kind of pervert cradle- robber?" Ginny laughed, but Harry was still offended. "No! Don't laugh! That was horrible!" he cried, his eyes shining with indignation. "You're only fourteen! You shouldn't be talking about oral sex!"
"For God's sake, I was joking!" exclaimed Ginny with a smile. "Don't give me those hurt-puppy eyes; I know that you didn't have any sort of hidden sexual motives behind your actions." She grabbed Harry's arm and forced him to walk further down the hallway with her. "Let's go do something about those ribs of yours."
Little did they know that Fred and George were tagging behind them.
"I've got a great spell, Harry." The target of this comment whirled around like frightened cat, causing the twins to stumble backwards.
"Gods, lad," cried George, still reeling from his near-fall, "Don't be so jumpy." Harry laughed, but Ginny just shook her head.
"Anyway," began Fred, "I know of a great spell that will make you feel NOTHING."
"Really?" exclaimed Harry, intrigued and somewhat relieved. "What is it?"
Fred instructed Harry to close his eyes, and once he did, he felt a strange feeling of warmth come over him. All at once, the agonizing pain in his chest was completely gone, and he felt deliriously happy. He opened his eyes and began grinning madly. "Thanks, mates! I don't feel anything!" He turned and meant to skip into the living room, but instead unintentionally smacked his face right into the wall. Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth and offered help, but Harry hopped right back to his feet and started skipping again, this time making it into the living room but accidentally toppling over the side of the sofa.
"Erm...there ARE a few side effects to that spell...," said George, watching Harry (who was still beaming with unnatural happiness) trip and fall for the fifth time.
"Oh no," said Ginny, glaring at her brothers, "You didn't use that spell on Harry that made the neighbor's cat look drunk, did you?"
The twins exchanged glances. "Well," began Fred, "You're right, we might have used the same spell." Ginny opened her mouth to yell, but George silenced her and let Fred continue his explanation. "BUT- since Mittens was a lot smaller than Harry, the spell doesn't work as strongly. I mean, Mittens was yowling and throwing himself at the wall, but Harry's just tripping over things. You see?" Ginny suppressed a guilty laugh as she noticed Harry stumble over his own feet and slam his head against the corner of the coffee table.
"Still..." she reasoned, cocking her head to one side, "That's kind of sad to watch." Harry tried to throw himself onto the couch for safety, but managed to tumble over the arm of the sofa and roll across the carpet like a wagon wheel. He got up, dusted off his sweater, and actually was able to walk towards the three Weasleys without tripping once.
"You guys ready for some barbecue?" he asked breathlessly, blood running down his face from a gash in his forehead. "I sure am!" He turned and ran towards the direction of the backyard.