Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!
Chapter 2: Of Brothers, Socks and Letters
~*~*~
When Harry and I reached the Burrow, we were immediately greeted by a sight that neither of us especially wanted to see. I mean, it's okay if Ron wants to snog Hermione; they haven't seen each other for weeks, but can't they do that somewhere private?
After sharing a look with Harry that made us both want to laugh, I called to Hermione, "Oy! Hermione!"
Hermione immediately surfaced, looking around for the speaker. When she saw me, she smiled and said, "Hullo Ginny. What is it?"
Ron, however, didn't say anything; he was too busy looking murderous.
I shrugged. "You had a bit of Ron on your face, but it's gone now."
Harry suddenly burst out laughing, which was fortunate for me; Ron and Hermione were so surprised that Harry was actually laughing that they forgot all about the fact that I had just interrupted their. . .er. . .reunion.
Well, they almost forgot.
While Harry and Hermione were catching up, I heard my big brother whisper in my ear, "Don't think I won't get you back."
I rolled my eyes. "You are obviously forgeting whose sister your talking to, I have things up my sleeve that would make you wish you had never heard of candy."
Suddenly Ron didn't look as sure of himself as he had before.
Hermione, who was still smiling turned to me and said, "How are you Ginny? Things going all right?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I finished all my homework, but I'd still like you to look over it."
Hermione's eyes lit up and the boys let out a collective groan. "Sure thing!" she exclaimed. Then turning to the boys said, "That reminds me, have you two even started yet?"
"Her-myyyy-own-eeeeee!" Ron whined. "It's Harry's birthday! Bother us about homework tomorrow."
Uh-oh.
It's Harry's birthday.
And I don't have a present.
That's not exactly good.
I tried to catch Hermione's eye. She could get me out of this, maybe help me transfigure something into something, or something. . . Unfortunately she was too wrapped up talking to Ron and Harry to realise that I was having a crisis.
Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Hermione! I need to talk to you right now!."
"What is it?" "Ummm. . . It's a girl thing," I said, while I dragged her from the couch while both boys sat paralysed in horror (serves them right the dung brains).
Hermione, however, looked extremely confused. When we finally reached my room, she looked around frantically as if a clue to why I was behaving this way would jump out at her.
"What is it Ginny? Is it Dean? Have you been doing something with Dean?" she asked accusingly.
I blushed. I didn't think before about how stupid this was going to sound, especially after Hermione's last statement. "No. . ." I said slowly. "It's Harry."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Ginny, I thought you were over him."
Why does everybody think I'm not over Harry? I'm going out with another bloke; how much more proof do they want?
"I AM over him!!! Why would I not be? Of course I'm over him."
Hermione still looked sceptical. Me thinks thou dost protest too much."
"Hermione. Not you too. I don't like Harry. It's bad enough my brother wants me to without you thinking I actually do."
Hermione sighed, "Well, what is it then?"
I blushed again. "Ididn'tgethimabirthdaypresent," I mumbled faster than I thought was humanly possible.
I watched as my best friend's lips formed a circular O. "I see," was all that came after it.
"Yeah."
"And you feel stupid because he's your friend."
"Yeah."
"Did he get you a birthday present?"
I felt the now very familiar onset of a blush begin to start again, "Well. . . no. But I'm going to look really dumb during the party if everyone in my family gets him a present and I'm the only one that doesn't."
Hermione nodded, "Well, there's no time to go shopping now, so what are you going to give him?"
I shrugged, "I have no idea."
Hermione smiled comfortingly, "Well, I'll unpack and you can look in my books. Maybe there is something in one of them we can do."
I rolled my eyes-basic Hermione philosophy: when in doubt or need, go to a book.
Hermione began placing her clothes beside mine in my drawers. After a bit of looking through Hermione's numerous books, I heard her snort.
"Very ladylike, Hermy," I chortled.
Hermione chuckled, "Ginny, why in the world do you have socks with Snitches and broomsticks on them?"
Oh, those.
"Those aren't exactly mine," I said trying to sound nonchalant.
Hermione looked intrigued, "Oh, whose? Charlie's?"
Act calm. . .
She's going to make a big deal out of it. . .
I shrugged. "No, those are Harry's."
"YOU HAVE HARRY'S SOCKS?" bellowed an indignant Hermione.
I knew she was going to make a big deal about it.
"What's so bad about that?"
"Ginny, you have Harry's socks."
"So? They're warm."
"When did you get them?" she interrogated.
"I stole them in my third year, when I still liked him."
"How many pairs of his do you have?" she continued.
"Six," I addmitted a bit sheepishly.
"SIX?"
It's not that big a number.
"Six."
Hermione looked absolutely scandalised, as if I had just announced that I had been dating Draco Malfo in secret, and that we were now going to run off and elope in the Bahamas; and really, in comparison, it isn't that bad.
"Why in the world haven't you given them back?"
For someone so smart, Hermione just doesn't get it. "Oh, gee, wouldn't that be a fun conversation. 'Hey Harry! I nicked your socks because I wanted to feel close to you, because at the time I was madly in love with you. But now that I'm over you, do you want them back?' Come on Hermione, I'm a Gryffindor, not a psycho with a death wish."
Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up the way they did when she had done something completely outside of all the rules. "I know what you can give Harry. . ."
~*~
"Happy Birthday, dear Harry! Happy Birthday to you!" I sang, along with the rest of the Weasley clan. Harry was looking very strange throughout the course of the festivites, as if he had never been sung to or never blown out birthday candles.
Which, he probably hadn't.
Mum was walking him through it, though. I think the all of us were just glad that, for once, Harry was having a normal birthday.
"Go on, Harry, dear. Make a wish and blow out your candles."
Harry skewed up his face like Tonks morphing. "FWWWWWWWWWWW!" he blew awkwardly.
"Yea!" was the general red-headed plus Granger outcry, punctured by Fred and George's whistles and a few birds in the trees.
After we had 'disposed' of Mum's cake, the time came that I had been dreading most.
Harry's presents.
Smiling a bit awkwardly I watched in horror as Harry picked up the closest present, which (thank the Heavens) wasn't mine. It turned out to be from Remus and a couple of the other members of the Order. It was a couple of pocket protectors to "protect you from wand ignition accidents." Harry thought it was hilarious.
I don't get it.
And on it went: Weasley sweaters, books (The Life of a Hero: The Harry Potter Story, Rise of Light, Fall of Dark, and So You Think You Can Handle a Dragon?), dung bombs and other dangerous items, an earring from Bill (Mum was absolutely scandalised), Cannon memorabilia, and a scrapbook from the Quidditch team.
Then finally, he picked up mine.
I know what's in it, and I know the uproar it's going to cause.
And let's just say I'm not looking forward to it.
"Who's that from, Harry?" Hermione asked innocently.
The little blighter! She KNOWS WHO IT'S FROM! She helped me wrap it!
"Uhhhh.Ginny," Harry said looking at the tag.
He then began to proceed with the unwrapping.
Oh, dragon doo.
He's actually doing it.
I think I'm going to die. . .
Merlin, he's opening the box. . .
TAKE ME NOW LORD!
Harry suddenly let out an amused chuckle, and I knew my doom was sealed. "Socks? Gin, how much time have you been spending in the kitchens?"
I smiled timidly.
DON'T YOU DARE BLUSH VIRGINIA MARIE WEASLEY!
"Take a closer look at them."
Harry unfolded a pair and gave a look of surprise. "I haven't seen these in years. I thought Dobby nicked them." Then he paused. "Ginny, why did you have my socks?" he asked intrigued, holding up the pair of broomsticks and Snitches.
"I think I can answer that, mate," Ron said chuckling. "Ginny's always pinching our socks. She probably nicked some of yours a while back, thinking they were mine. Funny, I don't think she's ever given any of ours back; she must really like you."
Okay he's getting me back.
I'll take care of him later.
I smiled sweetly. "You're family. I don't have to be nice to you."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry's as good as!"
"That's beside the point. Anyway, Harry doesn't own any bright orange Chudley Cannon socks. They're so much easier to find in the morning," I said cheerfully.
Three, two, one.
"YOU TOOK MY CANNON SOCKS???" Ron bellowed.
I held up my foot, which donned the incriminating sock, "They're so lovely and warm," I said wiggling my toes.
Ron ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, "Ginny, I'd like my socks."
"But, dearest brother, you don't want my feet to get cold!"
Ron's ears began to burn scarlet, "Ginny."
I grinned angelically. "What big bro?"
"I swear if you don't give me my socks back."
"Awww. . . ickle Ronnikins wats his swocks back. . ."
"IT'S THE CANNONS!"
"Ah, yes the famous, 'Cross you're fingers and hope for the best', just admit they stink."
"Your feet stink," put in Fred or George (I couldn't tell which).
"Shut up, O King of Stinksap!"
It was then I noticed that Ron's ears had grown extremely red He picked up his wand and bellowed, "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
I suddenly felt myself being floated up above the nearby pond.
Uh-oh.
Not good.
He wouldn't. . .
Would he?
"RON! DON'T YOU DARE DROP ME IN THIS POND!"
Ron just twirled his wand, "Give me my socks!"
"I can't very well give you them from up here! I'm at least eight metres- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT POTTER?"
Harry, who was laughing so hard he was doubled over, shook his head. Hermione wasn't that much better, silent tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks.
Some friends I've got.
"Ginny, just give me my socks."
"No, not when you're forcing me to."
"Ginny."
"Set me down."
"No, give me my socks.
"NO!"
"Well then, I have no choice."
"Ronald McDonald Weasley! (A/N I'm sorry, I couldn't resist) You wouldn't!"
"Finete-"
"RON!"
"Incantataem!"
SPLASH!
I'm wet.
And I'm cold.
And I'm going to KILL Ronald Weasley.
As I doggy paddled back to the edge of the pond, and spitting out the excess water that was in my mouth, I noticed that Ron had run away and that a certain raven-haired boy was laughing.
I turned to him, smiled and said, "Do you think this is funny?"
Harry coughed, regaining his composure, "Oh, no. Of course not. Why would I laugh at you? There's nothing funny about you."
I began to grin and walk toward him, "Awww, that's so sweet!"
"It is?" he asked confused and happy at the same time.
"Yeah, and just for being such a sweetie, I think you deserve a hug."
Harry started to back up once it dawned on him what it was I was about to do, "Uh, Ginny. That's not really necessary. I mean you're all wet."
"That, my dear Harry, is precisely the point," I said as I leapt to pin him down.
What the heck am I doing?
Oh, that's right. I'm getting Harry soaked.
I don't know why, but I am.
My face was now inches from his. "Why don't you run, Potter?" I said pinning him and getting him as sopping wet as I was.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm a seventeen year old boy who honestly enjoys the sensation of having a girl this close, or maybe it's just that I find the way you scrunch your nose up when you're angry really cute."
What the. . . ?
Harry Potter. . .
Is either coming on to me, or he really shouldn't go near water.
Do you know what this means?
Harry Potter might like me!
And I'm. . .
Going out with Dean.
Talk about bad timing.
"Harry what are you talking about?" I said getting up.
Harry shrugged again. " I don't know. Trying to compliment you?"
Is that good?
Not when I'm going out with Dean.
I tried to smile and act dignified, "Well, I don't think that it's appropriate for you to compliment me like that."
Great, I sound like. . .
Nevermind.
"Oh, really?" He asked grabbing my hand and playing with my fingers.
"Please, don't," I asked softly.
Harry stared down at our joint hands and began to whisper. "Is it because I'm your brother's best friend?"
He paused and I looked away uncomfortably.
"Is it because you're afraid? Afraid of my mood swings? Afraid that starting a relationship with me would make you a target for Death Eaters?"
"I'm not afraid."
Where did that come from?
Harry looked at me, hope shining in his eyes. "Then what's wrong?"
I backed away withdrawing my hand. "Harry, I have a boyfriend. You know that."
Harry's eyes looked downcast. "Yeah."
"Then why. . ."
"Because you don't love him."
Of course I don't! I'm 16! But I like Dean. Isn't that enough?
Why is Harry doing this?
I need to get away and get some sleep. This will all go away in the morning.
"Harry. . .I need to go inside," I said shakily.
Harry looked furious with himself or me, I really couldn't tell. "Yeah, I'll meet you in there."
Okay, this is very strange.
Harry, can't actually like me.
He's suffering from post-breakup syndrome!
Yeah, that's it!
It will go away in a couple of days.
When I got inside the house most of the other Weasley's had either Apparated back to their flats/houses or gone to bed.
Ron had waited for me, though.
Ehhhhhh. . .
Knowing him, he probably saw everything.
He looked up at me and smiled, "Have fun?"
Yep, he saw everything.
I returned his grin, "Yes, I had such a refreshing swim."
"Told you I'd get you back."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all talk and wand work. We'll settle this later," I retorted.
"Weasley Quidditch?"
"What else?"
We sat in silence for a while, when Ron suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, your blundering idiot owled you."
"Dean really did? Where's the letter?"
Ron pointed to my spot at the kitchen table, where a letter sat.
Dear Ginny,
Hey, girl. Nothing much is happening here to the point where chores are the highlight of my day. You see what I'm reduced to without my girl to make me laugh? It seems like I haven't seen you in forever. But that will be remedied in a few days. I think I'm going to take you up on your invitation. Mum is going to visit some aunt of mine that lives about half an hour from where you live. She's agreed to let me spend next Wednesday at your house. I'm really looking forward to seeing you. I have no idea how I've lasted this long. Next year is going to be torture.
Owl me when you get this.
Love,
Dean
Ron, who had been reading over my shoulder snorted, "He's not clingy, is he?"
I shrugged.
Okay, so Dean is a bit. . .possessive.
I can handle it.
It's just because he likes me so much.
Right. That's it.
"Doesn't that bother you?" Ron asked.
"No!" I said a bit too quickly.
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it does bother me at times."
Ron nodded, "I figured that. Why do you put up with it?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because I want you to be happy. Tell me something has Dean ever mentioned marriage? Kids?"
"What's wrong with that? We've been together for over a year."
"You're 16!"
"And your point is?''
"You are too young to even think about getting married!"
I snorted "This coming from the bloke who stares at rings every time we pass Glodlukes Gold and Silver. Come on and stuff it. You're beginning to sound like mum."
"Hey, it's not like Hermione and I are going to get married right away. Besides I'm older."
"So? Besides, Dean wants to start a family right away."
"Does he now? Do you?"
"It's one of the few things we've argued about from time to time. I want to go to Charm school and learn how to build charms," I admitted.
"Huhm. I think you should dump him," Ron said matter-of-factly, then added quickly, "I'm not saying for anybody. I just think you would be happier without him."
Sure he does.
"Well, thank you. But it's really not your opinion that matters," I said and turned to go up to my room.
Ron came up behind me, "Gin, sooner or later you're going to have to face the fact that you don't love him."
"I know."
~*~*~
Chapter 2: Of Brothers, Socks and Letters
~*~*~
When Harry and I reached the Burrow, we were immediately greeted by a sight that neither of us especially wanted to see. I mean, it's okay if Ron wants to snog Hermione; they haven't seen each other for weeks, but can't they do that somewhere private?
After sharing a look with Harry that made us both want to laugh, I called to Hermione, "Oy! Hermione!"
Hermione immediately surfaced, looking around for the speaker. When she saw me, she smiled and said, "Hullo Ginny. What is it?"
Ron, however, didn't say anything; he was too busy looking murderous.
I shrugged. "You had a bit of Ron on your face, but it's gone now."
Harry suddenly burst out laughing, which was fortunate for me; Ron and Hermione were so surprised that Harry was actually laughing that they forgot all about the fact that I had just interrupted their. . .er. . .reunion.
Well, they almost forgot.
While Harry and Hermione were catching up, I heard my big brother whisper in my ear, "Don't think I won't get you back."
I rolled my eyes. "You are obviously forgeting whose sister your talking to, I have things up my sleeve that would make you wish you had never heard of candy."
Suddenly Ron didn't look as sure of himself as he had before.
Hermione, who was still smiling turned to me and said, "How are you Ginny? Things going all right?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I finished all my homework, but I'd still like you to look over it."
Hermione's eyes lit up and the boys let out a collective groan. "Sure thing!" she exclaimed. Then turning to the boys said, "That reminds me, have you two even started yet?"
"Her-myyyy-own-eeeeee!" Ron whined. "It's Harry's birthday! Bother us about homework tomorrow."
Uh-oh.
It's Harry's birthday.
And I don't have a present.
That's not exactly good.
I tried to catch Hermione's eye. She could get me out of this, maybe help me transfigure something into something, or something. . . Unfortunately she was too wrapped up talking to Ron and Harry to realise that I was having a crisis.
Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Hermione! I need to talk to you right now!."
"What is it?" "Ummm. . . It's a girl thing," I said, while I dragged her from the couch while both boys sat paralysed in horror (serves them right the dung brains).
Hermione, however, looked extremely confused. When we finally reached my room, she looked around frantically as if a clue to why I was behaving this way would jump out at her.
"What is it Ginny? Is it Dean? Have you been doing something with Dean?" she asked accusingly.
I blushed. I didn't think before about how stupid this was going to sound, especially after Hermione's last statement. "No. . ." I said slowly. "It's Harry."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Ginny, I thought you were over him."
Why does everybody think I'm not over Harry? I'm going out with another bloke; how much more proof do they want?
"I AM over him!!! Why would I not be? Of course I'm over him."
Hermione still looked sceptical. Me thinks thou dost protest too much."
"Hermione. Not you too. I don't like Harry. It's bad enough my brother wants me to without you thinking I actually do."
Hermione sighed, "Well, what is it then?"
I blushed again. "Ididn'tgethimabirthdaypresent," I mumbled faster than I thought was humanly possible.
I watched as my best friend's lips formed a circular O. "I see," was all that came after it.
"Yeah."
"And you feel stupid because he's your friend."
"Yeah."
"Did he get you a birthday present?"
I felt the now very familiar onset of a blush begin to start again, "Well. . . no. But I'm going to look really dumb during the party if everyone in my family gets him a present and I'm the only one that doesn't."
Hermione nodded, "Well, there's no time to go shopping now, so what are you going to give him?"
I shrugged, "I have no idea."
Hermione smiled comfortingly, "Well, I'll unpack and you can look in my books. Maybe there is something in one of them we can do."
I rolled my eyes-basic Hermione philosophy: when in doubt or need, go to a book.
Hermione began placing her clothes beside mine in my drawers. After a bit of looking through Hermione's numerous books, I heard her snort.
"Very ladylike, Hermy," I chortled.
Hermione chuckled, "Ginny, why in the world do you have socks with Snitches and broomsticks on them?"
Oh, those.
"Those aren't exactly mine," I said trying to sound nonchalant.
Hermione looked intrigued, "Oh, whose? Charlie's?"
Act calm. . .
She's going to make a big deal out of it. . .
I shrugged. "No, those are Harry's."
"YOU HAVE HARRY'S SOCKS?" bellowed an indignant Hermione.
I knew she was going to make a big deal about it.
"What's so bad about that?"
"Ginny, you have Harry's socks."
"So? They're warm."
"When did you get them?" she interrogated.
"I stole them in my third year, when I still liked him."
"How many pairs of his do you have?" she continued.
"Six," I addmitted a bit sheepishly.
"SIX?"
It's not that big a number.
"Six."
Hermione looked absolutely scandalised, as if I had just announced that I had been dating Draco Malfo in secret, and that we were now going to run off and elope in the Bahamas; and really, in comparison, it isn't that bad.
"Why in the world haven't you given them back?"
For someone so smart, Hermione just doesn't get it. "Oh, gee, wouldn't that be a fun conversation. 'Hey Harry! I nicked your socks because I wanted to feel close to you, because at the time I was madly in love with you. But now that I'm over you, do you want them back?' Come on Hermione, I'm a Gryffindor, not a psycho with a death wish."
Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up the way they did when she had done something completely outside of all the rules. "I know what you can give Harry. . ."
~*~
"Happy Birthday, dear Harry! Happy Birthday to you!" I sang, along with the rest of the Weasley clan. Harry was looking very strange throughout the course of the festivites, as if he had never been sung to or never blown out birthday candles.
Which, he probably hadn't.
Mum was walking him through it, though. I think the all of us were just glad that, for once, Harry was having a normal birthday.
"Go on, Harry, dear. Make a wish and blow out your candles."
Harry skewed up his face like Tonks morphing. "FWWWWWWWWWWW!" he blew awkwardly.
"Yea!" was the general red-headed plus Granger outcry, punctured by Fred and George's whistles and a few birds in the trees.
After we had 'disposed' of Mum's cake, the time came that I had been dreading most.
Harry's presents.
Smiling a bit awkwardly I watched in horror as Harry picked up the closest present, which (thank the Heavens) wasn't mine. It turned out to be from Remus and a couple of the other members of the Order. It was a couple of pocket protectors to "protect you from wand ignition accidents." Harry thought it was hilarious.
I don't get it.
And on it went: Weasley sweaters, books (The Life of a Hero: The Harry Potter Story, Rise of Light, Fall of Dark, and So You Think You Can Handle a Dragon?), dung bombs and other dangerous items, an earring from Bill (Mum was absolutely scandalised), Cannon memorabilia, and a scrapbook from the Quidditch team.
Then finally, he picked up mine.
I know what's in it, and I know the uproar it's going to cause.
And let's just say I'm not looking forward to it.
"Who's that from, Harry?" Hermione asked innocently.
The little blighter! She KNOWS WHO IT'S FROM! She helped me wrap it!
"Uhhhh.Ginny," Harry said looking at the tag.
He then began to proceed with the unwrapping.
Oh, dragon doo.
He's actually doing it.
I think I'm going to die. . .
Merlin, he's opening the box. . .
TAKE ME NOW LORD!
Harry suddenly let out an amused chuckle, and I knew my doom was sealed. "Socks? Gin, how much time have you been spending in the kitchens?"
I smiled timidly.
DON'T YOU DARE BLUSH VIRGINIA MARIE WEASLEY!
"Take a closer look at them."
Harry unfolded a pair and gave a look of surprise. "I haven't seen these in years. I thought Dobby nicked them." Then he paused. "Ginny, why did you have my socks?" he asked intrigued, holding up the pair of broomsticks and Snitches.
"I think I can answer that, mate," Ron said chuckling. "Ginny's always pinching our socks. She probably nicked some of yours a while back, thinking they were mine. Funny, I don't think she's ever given any of ours back; she must really like you."
Okay he's getting me back.
I'll take care of him later.
I smiled sweetly. "You're family. I don't have to be nice to you."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry's as good as!"
"That's beside the point. Anyway, Harry doesn't own any bright orange Chudley Cannon socks. They're so much easier to find in the morning," I said cheerfully.
Three, two, one.
"YOU TOOK MY CANNON SOCKS???" Ron bellowed.
I held up my foot, which donned the incriminating sock, "They're so lovely and warm," I said wiggling my toes.
Ron ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, "Ginny, I'd like my socks."
"But, dearest brother, you don't want my feet to get cold!"
Ron's ears began to burn scarlet, "Ginny."
I grinned angelically. "What big bro?"
"I swear if you don't give me my socks back."
"Awww. . . ickle Ronnikins wats his swocks back. . ."
"IT'S THE CANNONS!"
"Ah, yes the famous, 'Cross you're fingers and hope for the best', just admit they stink."
"Your feet stink," put in Fred or George (I couldn't tell which).
"Shut up, O King of Stinksap!"
It was then I noticed that Ron's ears had grown extremely red He picked up his wand and bellowed, "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
I suddenly felt myself being floated up above the nearby pond.
Uh-oh.
Not good.
He wouldn't. . .
Would he?
"RON! DON'T YOU DARE DROP ME IN THIS POND!"
Ron just twirled his wand, "Give me my socks!"
"I can't very well give you them from up here! I'm at least eight metres- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT POTTER?"
Harry, who was laughing so hard he was doubled over, shook his head. Hermione wasn't that much better, silent tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks.
Some friends I've got.
"Ginny, just give me my socks."
"No, not when you're forcing me to."
"Ginny."
"Set me down."
"No, give me my socks.
"NO!"
"Well then, I have no choice."
"Ronald McDonald Weasley! (A/N I'm sorry, I couldn't resist) You wouldn't!"
"Finete-"
"RON!"
"Incantataem!"
SPLASH!
I'm wet.
And I'm cold.
And I'm going to KILL Ronald Weasley.
As I doggy paddled back to the edge of the pond, and spitting out the excess water that was in my mouth, I noticed that Ron had run away and that a certain raven-haired boy was laughing.
I turned to him, smiled and said, "Do you think this is funny?"
Harry coughed, regaining his composure, "Oh, no. Of course not. Why would I laugh at you? There's nothing funny about you."
I began to grin and walk toward him, "Awww, that's so sweet!"
"It is?" he asked confused and happy at the same time.
"Yeah, and just for being such a sweetie, I think you deserve a hug."
Harry started to back up once it dawned on him what it was I was about to do, "Uh, Ginny. That's not really necessary. I mean you're all wet."
"That, my dear Harry, is precisely the point," I said as I leapt to pin him down.
What the heck am I doing?
Oh, that's right. I'm getting Harry soaked.
I don't know why, but I am.
My face was now inches from his. "Why don't you run, Potter?" I said pinning him and getting him as sopping wet as I was.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm a seventeen year old boy who honestly enjoys the sensation of having a girl this close, or maybe it's just that I find the way you scrunch your nose up when you're angry really cute."
What the. . . ?
Harry Potter. . .
Is either coming on to me, or he really shouldn't go near water.
Do you know what this means?
Harry Potter might like me!
And I'm. . .
Going out with Dean.
Talk about bad timing.
"Harry what are you talking about?" I said getting up.
Harry shrugged again. " I don't know. Trying to compliment you?"
Is that good?
Not when I'm going out with Dean.
I tried to smile and act dignified, "Well, I don't think that it's appropriate for you to compliment me like that."
Great, I sound like. . .
Nevermind.
"Oh, really?" He asked grabbing my hand and playing with my fingers.
"Please, don't," I asked softly.
Harry stared down at our joint hands and began to whisper. "Is it because I'm your brother's best friend?"
He paused and I looked away uncomfortably.
"Is it because you're afraid? Afraid of my mood swings? Afraid that starting a relationship with me would make you a target for Death Eaters?"
"I'm not afraid."
Where did that come from?
Harry looked at me, hope shining in his eyes. "Then what's wrong?"
I backed away withdrawing my hand. "Harry, I have a boyfriend. You know that."
Harry's eyes looked downcast. "Yeah."
"Then why. . ."
"Because you don't love him."
Of course I don't! I'm 16! But I like Dean. Isn't that enough?
Why is Harry doing this?
I need to get away and get some sleep. This will all go away in the morning.
"Harry. . .I need to go inside," I said shakily.
Harry looked furious with himself or me, I really couldn't tell. "Yeah, I'll meet you in there."
Okay, this is very strange.
Harry, can't actually like me.
He's suffering from post-breakup syndrome!
Yeah, that's it!
It will go away in a couple of days.
When I got inside the house most of the other Weasley's had either Apparated back to their flats/houses or gone to bed.
Ron had waited for me, though.
Ehhhhhh. . .
Knowing him, he probably saw everything.
He looked up at me and smiled, "Have fun?"
Yep, he saw everything.
I returned his grin, "Yes, I had such a refreshing swim."
"Told you I'd get you back."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all talk and wand work. We'll settle this later," I retorted.
"Weasley Quidditch?"
"What else?"
We sat in silence for a while, when Ron suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, your blundering idiot owled you."
"Dean really did? Where's the letter?"
Ron pointed to my spot at the kitchen table, where a letter sat.
Dear Ginny,
Hey, girl. Nothing much is happening here to the point where chores are the highlight of my day. You see what I'm reduced to without my girl to make me laugh? It seems like I haven't seen you in forever. But that will be remedied in a few days. I think I'm going to take you up on your invitation. Mum is going to visit some aunt of mine that lives about half an hour from where you live. She's agreed to let me spend next Wednesday at your house. I'm really looking forward to seeing you. I have no idea how I've lasted this long. Next year is going to be torture.
Owl me when you get this.
Love,
Dean
Ron, who had been reading over my shoulder snorted, "He's not clingy, is he?"
I shrugged.
Okay, so Dean is a bit. . .possessive.
I can handle it.
It's just because he likes me so much.
Right. That's it.
"Doesn't that bother you?" Ron asked.
"No!" I said a bit too quickly.
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it does bother me at times."
Ron nodded, "I figured that. Why do you put up with it?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because I want you to be happy. Tell me something has Dean ever mentioned marriage? Kids?"
"What's wrong with that? We've been together for over a year."
"You're 16!"
"And your point is?''
"You are too young to even think about getting married!"
I snorted "This coming from the bloke who stares at rings every time we pass Glodlukes Gold and Silver. Come on and stuff it. You're beginning to sound like mum."
"Hey, it's not like Hermione and I are going to get married right away. Besides I'm older."
"So? Besides, Dean wants to start a family right away."
"Does he now? Do you?"
"It's one of the few things we've argued about from time to time. I want to go to Charm school and learn how to build charms," I admitted.
"Huhm. I think you should dump him," Ron said matter-of-factly, then added quickly, "I'm not saying for anybody. I just think you would be happier without him."
Sure he does.
"Well, thank you. But it's really not your opinion that matters," I said and turned to go up to my room.
Ron came up behind me, "Gin, sooner or later you're going to have to face the fact that you don't love him."
"I know."
~*~*~