(Authors Note: Greetings! Here goes.now the drama starts)
"We should probably go," said Hermione after a pause. "Ron, your parents are getting back from Romania tomorrow and I don't think they would appreciate the dirty house you've left. Plus you'll have more time to get rid of the killer hangovers you're going to have."
"Ah, Herm!" whined Ron. "Can't you just make us a potion?" He looked at her pleadingly.
"If you can drink it, you should deal with the consequences," Hermione snapped. "Now get into the fireplace."
Harry, Ron, Fred and George in turn mumbled their "thanks yous" and goodbyes to Katie and the rest of the party while Ginny sat catatonically on the coach.
"Are you okay?" asked Hermione once the boys had left. Ginny sighed.
"I'm mad at myself. You know, Harry used to be my idol." Ginny stopped and looked at her friend. Poor girl, thought Hermione. "He was everything I thought a person could be-Brave, smart, good at Quidditch, ruggedly attractive with such craggy features, he has the shaggy mop of black hair that falls into his eyes-"
"Okay, I get it," interrupted Hermione irritably.
Ginny sighed. "I never thought he would like me back. But this summer, Hermione.You only got here today; you don't know what it was like. We had hot cocoa every night, the three of us would bring our sleeping bags out and spend the night under the stars." She turned and gazed fiercely at her friend. "He was starting to look at me as a person, Hermione. Not as his friend's kid sister but as his own friend." She looked like she was going to cry. "Maybe even more than that. And that cheap Palestinian slut-"
"Israeli. Don't confuse them, they don't like that," corrected Hermione.
"Whatever." A treacherous tear slid down Ginny's cheek. "That Israel just waltzes into his life today, with her unfocused eyes and her cryptic answers to questions and her damn perfect hair."
Hermione started to giggle. Ginny was jealous of Crookshanks.
"Don't laugh!" cried Ginny. Hermione sobered, unlike the rest of the party who had gone back to the bar and were pouring some more Butterbeer. "I know you think I'm just a crazy girl, Hermione. And I am!" She let another tear drip from her eye. "I was crazy about Harry."
"And he wants that Israeli slut," agreed Hermione.
"Isn't she your friend?" sniffled Ginny.
"Friend, shmiend," waved Hermione. "Doesn't change the fact that she's a slut." Again, not a lie thought Hermione. Crookshanks had been having a little fling with Lavender's cat, Miss Kitty.
"You probably call me that behind my back to your friends also," wept Ginny. Hermione bent to comfort the sobbing girl.
"There are many things wrong with that statement," she proclaimed. "Number one, what other friends? Do you think Ron would allow me to call his sister a slut?" Ginny smiled weakly and Hermione continued. "Two, I would never talk about you. And three.you did nothing wrong. There's something wrong with Harry! Not with you!"
Ginny brightened up at that. "You see Ginny," began Hermione. "Once I was too but an innocent young girl and I also fancied myself in love with that prat. But he didn't see me for the marvelous creature that I am, so I got over him."
By selling my soul to extract vengeance, she added silently.
"But that doesn't mean I don't want to hurt him badly," she said soothingly. "Painfully.in the nether regions, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah," agreed Ginny. "He needs a swift kick in the balls."
Hermione laughed. "Maybe something worse. Like magically removing one of them."
Ginny laughed too. "Is there a spell for that?"
YES! Cried Hermione silently. If you have the power, there's a spell for everything! "Probably," said Hermione. "We're just not powerfully enough witches to do it yet."
"Dumbledore is powerful," pointed out Ginny.
"Yes, Virginia," said Hermione sarcastically. "Let's get Pig in here. We'll send Dumbledore a lovely letter. Dear Headmaster-We were wondering if you could do a testicular removal spell on your favorite pupil, the Boy-Who- Lived. You know, the one who is our only hope in defeating Voldemort? Have a good holiday!"
"I think we're still drunk," commented Ginny.
"It's quite possible," agreed Hermione. "Come on, let's go back to The Burrow." They bid their hostess goodbye and quickly hugged the other guests, promising to meet them at King's Cross before the train left on Monday.
Meanwhile, back at the Burrow
"Wonder what's keeping Hermione and Gin," questioned Harry as he resumed his cleaning spells on Ron's house.
] "Who knows?" answered Ron as he began rearranging the living room furniture. "Ginny's probably hitting on Dean or someone."
"Or Hermione," yelled George from across the house.
"Hermione would never do something like that," Ron assured himself. "She doesn't care for other men-"
"Do you mean she doesn't care for men at all or she only cares for you," asked Harry, amused at his friend's protection on his friend.
"She only cares for me!" exclaimed Ron. "You saw how she kissed me," he added smugly.
"She would have done the same with your brother," commented Harry. "It was just a stupid dare."
With a loud POP, Hermione and Ginny stepped out of the fireplace. Deciding to settle this debate while it was still fresh, Harry seized the moment. "Hermione, would you have kissed Fred or George if I dared you?"
"Sure," answered Hermione flippantly as she shook her clothes out. "All dares are fair play." She turned to her friend. "Ginny, you've got a boot of soot on your hair."
"Ha," mouthed Harry to Ron.
Hermione glanced at the only clock that actually told the time in the Weasley home. 12:50. She had to contact Diana before sunrise, so she figured to get an hour or so's amount of sleep and then slip out. Tonight had been good, she decided. Diana deserved a sacrifice.
"Well, I suppose I'll turn in now," said Hermione with false cheer. "Night!"
She climbed the stairs to Ginny's bedroom and pondered what the correct gift for her divine mistress was.
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than the norm. I was involved in writing a love poem to Punjab, my would-be lover. Yes, ours is a forbidden love. Truth be told, I think there is a law against it. At least for another two years.
"We should probably go," said Hermione after a pause. "Ron, your parents are getting back from Romania tomorrow and I don't think they would appreciate the dirty house you've left. Plus you'll have more time to get rid of the killer hangovers you're going to have."
"Ah, Herm!" whined Ron. "Can't you just make us a potion?" He looked at her pleadingly.
"If you can drink it, you should deal with the consequences," Hermione snapped. "Now get into the fireplace."
Harry, Ron, Fred and George in turn mumbled their "thanks yous" and goodbyes to Katie and the rest of the party while Ginny sat catatonically on the coach.
"Are you okay?" asked Hermione once the boys had left. Ginny sighed.
"I'm mad at myself. You know, Harry used to be my idol." Ginny stopped and looked at her friend. Poor girl, thought Hermione. "He was everything I thought a person could be-Brave, smart, good at Quidditch, ruggedly attractive with such craggy features, he has the shaggy mop of black hair that falls into his eyes-"
"Okay, I get it," interrupted Hermione irritably.
Ginny sighed. "I never thought he would like me back. But this summer, Hermione.You only got here today; you don't know what it was like. We had hot cocoa every night, the three of us would bring our sleeping bags out and spend the night under the stars." She turned and gazed fiercely at her friend. "He was starting to look at me as a person, Hermione. Not as his friend's kid sister but as his own friend." She looked like she was going to cry. "Maybe even more than that. And that cheap Palestinian slut-"
"Israeli. Don't confuse them, they don't like that," corrected Hermione.
"Whatever." A treacherous tear slid down Ginny's cheek. "That Israel just waltzes into his life today, with her unfocused eyes and her cryptic answers to questions and her damn perfect hair."
Hermione started to giggle. Ginny was jealous of Crookshanks.
"Don't laugh!" cried Ginny. Hermione sobered, unlike the rest of the party who had gone back to the bar and were pouring some more Butterbeer. "I know you think I'm just a crazy girl, Hermione. And I am!" She let another tear drip from her eye. "I was crazy about Harry."
"And he wants that Israeli slut," agreed Hermione.
"Isn't she your friend?" sniffled Ginny.
"Friend, shmiend," waved Hermione. "Doesn't change the fact that she's a slut." Again, not a lie thought Hermione. Crookshanks had been having a little fling with Lavender's cat, Miss Kitty.
"You probably call me that behind my back to your friends also," wept Ginny. Hermione bent to comfort the sobbing girl.
"There are many things wrong with that statement," she proclaimed. "Number one, what other friends? Do you think Ron would allow me to call his sister a slut?" Ginny smiled weakly and Hermione continued. "Two, I would never talk about you. And three.you did nothing wrong. There's something wrong with Harry! Not with you!"
Ginny brightened up at that. "You see Ginny," began Hermione. "Once I was too but an innocent young girl and I also fancied myself in love with that prat. But he didn't see me for the marvelous creature that I am, so I got over him."
By selling my soul to extract vengeance, she added silently.
"But that doesn't mean I don't want to hurt him badly," she said soothingly. "Painfully.in the nether regions, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah," agreed Ginny. "He needs a swift kick in the balls."
Hermione laughed. "Maybe something worse. Like magically removing one of them."
Ginny laughed too. "Is there a spell for that?"
YES! Cried Hermione silently. If you have the power, there's a spell for everything! "Probably," said Hermione. "We're just not powerfully enough witches to do it yet."
"Dumbledore is powerful," pointed out Ginny.
"Yes, Virginia," said Hermione sarcastically. "Let's get Pig in here. We'll send Dumbledore a lovely letter. Dear Headmaster-We were wondering if you could do a testicular removal spell on your favorite pupil, the Boy-Who- Lived. You know, the one who is our only hope in defeating Voldemort? Have a good holiday!"
"I think we're still drunk," commented Ginny.
"It's quite possible," agreed Hermione. "Come on, let's go back to The Burrow." They bid their hostess goodbye and quickly hugged the other guests, promising to meet them at King's Cross before the train left on Monday.
Meanwhile, back at the Burrow
"Wonder what's keeping Hermione and Gin," questioned Harry as he resumed his cleaning spells on Ron's house.
] "Who knows?" answered Ron as he began rearranging the living room furniture. "Ginny's probably hitting on Dean or someone."
"Or Hermione," yelled George from across the house.
"Hermione would never do something like that," Ron assured himself. "She doesn't care for other men-"
"Do you mean she doesn't care for men at all or she only cares for you," asked Harry, amused at his friend's protection on his friend.
"She only cares for me!" exclaimed Ron. "You saw how she kissed me," he added smugly.
"She would have done the same with your brother," commented Harry. "It was just a stupid dare."
With a loud POP, Hermione and Ginny stepped out of the fireplace. Deciding to settle this debate while it was still fresh, Harry seized the moment. "Hermione, would you have kissed Fred or George if I dared you?"
"Sure," answered Hermione flippantly as she shook her clothes out. "All dares are fair play." She turned to her friend. "Ginny, you've got a boot of soot on your hair."
"Ha," mouthed Harry to Ron.
Hermione glanced at the only clock that actually told the time in the Weasley home. 12:50. She had to contact Diana before sunrise, so she figured to get an hour or so's amount of sleep and then slip out. Tonight had been good, she decided. Diana deserved a sacrifice.
"Well, I suppose I'll turn in now," said Hermione with false cheer. "Night!"
She climbed the stairs to Ginny's bedroom and pondered what the correct gift for her divine mistress was.
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than the norm. I was involved in writing a love poem to Punjab, my would-be lover. Yes, ours is a forbidden love. Truth be told, I think there is a law against it. At least for another two years.