Chapter 9: For Love Comes
It was early morning when Ginny woke up from another night of dreamless sleep. Sitting up, she rubbed the remains of sleep from her eyes, before heading off to take a shower. Everyone in the room was still fast asleep, even as Ginny slipped into her uniform and out the door.
"Strange," she whispered to herself, just as her foot hit the last step with a soft thud, "Why is everyone still asleep?"
"Maybe because it's a Saturday?" a tired voice answered her, as the figure of Hermoine Granger came to view. Her usual combed down hair was tangled and wild, its strands all over the place. Ginny couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It wasn't everyday the sophisticated sixth year was dressed in such messy manor and in the public for people to witness. "What are you doing here anyways. . .in your uniform nonetheless."
Ginny looked down at her robes, a blush of embarrassment upon her cheeks. "Umm. . ." she began, finding excuses for the mix-up of clothing, "Well you see. . ."
Hermoine gave Ginny a knowing smile, "Quidditch going to your head Ms. Weasley?" A laugh escaped her, as she ducked from a flying pillow clearly aimed at her head. "Or maybe a certain silver-haired, gray-eyed seeker?" she asked, her eyes daring the redhead to make a move.
Ginny's eyes narrowed at Hermoine's latter response, thinking of a quick and easy strategy to get the other girl begging for her mercy. She looked about the Common Room, from the several couches clad in gold and maroon, to the brick fireplace in the corner, to the books stacked upon the floor in columns. But found nothing to initiate a revenge scheme. It was until her eyes caught sight of the stack of pillows lying carelessly from one of the younger year's pillow fights, she decided upon a plan. Her eyes darted furtively, wondering if the brown-haired teen noticed the discovery as well. Quietly, her eyes never leaving the others, she made her move. "War!!" she chanted loudly, while running towards the pile and picking up a few pillows.
Hermoine followed in suit, a few pillows already stuffed under her arms and in her grasp. She gave Ginny a smirk like no other, before firing her weapons. "Not if I get you first!" she yelled as the pillows flew into the air and at the youngest Weasley.
And thus, the greatest pillow war to ever hit Hogwarts since the Marauder days when a certain Moony and Padfoot tagged team against an unsuspecting Prongs in an all night pursuit had begun. And it was thus, the friendship between Hermoine Granger and Ginny Weasley became stronger than ever before.
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"So, you still mad about what happened before the game?" Hermoine asked as the two collapsed on the nearest couch in the room, their breaths coming in short pants. The Common Room was a mess; pillows strained in random directions; piles of books scattered randomly across the floor. Professor McGonagall would probably faint at the sight of her beloved Common Room looking as if it had been through war and back.
"No. . .you're forgiven as of this moment," Ginny sighed, as she smacked a pillow over her face, causing her voice to be muffled, "I can't believe my luck with having to take care of Draco though."
"I can't either," Hermoine replied, a kind smile on her face, "But I'm sure you'll pull through it Gin. You always seem to."
Ginny turned her head and shot Hermoine a playful glare, sticking her tongue out childishly. "Well you're not the one who ended up with three weeks of detention, two howlers, a forced position in Quidditch, the guilt of not only giving someone a black eye but a lost memory and the punishment to take care of said person till memory is returned," Ginny spoke all in one breath. She gave Hermoine an I-dare-you-to-top-that look. She watched Hermoine open her mouth to speak, but quickly close it again. "Ah it's okay Herm," she began, using the nickname that her brother appointed to the brunette, "Not your fault I got into this mess. But hey, you never know what might come out of it." She stood up from the couch and walked over to the stairway leading to the girl's dormitory.
"You think Professor McGonagall would flip?" Hermoine asked, surveying the damage she and her green-eyed friend caused.
"I would be pretty disappointed if she didn't," Ginny answered with a smirk. She then ascended up the stairs and into her room to change into something. . .less formal. It was after all a Saturday.
It was early morning when Ginny woke up from another night of dreamless sleep. Sitting up, she rubbed the remains of sleep from her eyes, before heading off to take a shower. Everyone in the room was still fast asleep, even as Ginny slipped into her uniform and out the door.
"Strange," she whispered to herself, just as her foot hit the last step with a soft thud, "Why is everyone still asleep?"
"Maybe because it's a Saturday?" a tired voice answered her, as the figure of Hermoine Granger came to view. Her usual combed down hair was tangled and wild, its strands all over the place. Ginny couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It wasn't everyday the sophisticated sixth year was dressed in such messy manor and in the public for people to witness. "What are you doing here anyways. . .in your uniform nonetheless."
Ginny looked down at her robes, a blush of embarrassment upon her cheeks. "Umm. . ." she began, finding excuses for the mix-up of clothing, "Well you see. . ."
Hermoine gave Ginny a knowing smile, "Quidditch going to your head Ms. Weasley?" A laugh escaped her, as she ducked from a flying pillow clearly aimed at her head. "Or maybe a certain silver-haired, gray-eyed seeker?" she asked, her eyes daring the redhead to make a move.
Ginny's eyes narrowed at Hermoine's latter response, thinking of a quick and easy strategy to get the other girl begging for her mercy. She looked about the Common Room, from the several couches clad in gold and maroon, to the brick fireplace in the corner, to the books stacked upon the floor in columns. But found nothing to initiate a revenge scheme. It was until her eyes caught sight of the stack of pillows lying carelessly from one of the younger year's pillow fights, she decided upon a plan. Her eyes darted furtively, wondering if the brown-haired teen noticed the discovery as well. Quietly, her eyes never leaving the others, she made her move. "War!!" she chanted loudly, while running towards the pile and picking up a few pillows.
Hermoine followed in suit, a few pillows already stuffed under her arms and in her grasp. She gave Ginny a smirk like no other, before firing her weapons. "Not if I get you first!" she yelled as the pillows flew into the air and at the youngest Weasley.
And thus, the greatest pillow war to ever hit Hogwarts since the Marauder days when a certain Moony and Padfoot tagged team against an unsuspecting Prongs in an all night pursuit had begun. And it was thus, the friendship between Hermoine Granger and Ginny Weasley became stronger than ever before.
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"So, you still mad about what happened before the game?" Hermoine asked as the two collapsed on the nearest couch in the room, their breaths coming in short pants. The Common Room was a mess; pillows strained in random directions; piles of books scattered randomly across the floor. Professor McGonagall would probably faint at the sight of her beloved Common Room looking as if it had been through war and back.
"No. . .you're forgiven as of this moment," Ginny sighed, as she smacked a pillow over her face, causing her voice to be muffled, "I can't believe my luck with having to take care of Draco though."
"I can't either," Hermoine replied, a kind smile on her face, "But I'm sure you'll pull through it Gin. You always seem to."
Ginny turned her head and shot Hermoine a playful glare, sticking her tongue out childishly. "Well you're not the one who ended up with three weeks of detention, two howlers, a forced position in Quidditch, the guilt of not only giving someone a black eye but a lost memory and the punishment to take care of said person till memory is returned," Ginny spoke all in one breath. She gave Hermoine an I-dare-you-to-top-that look. She watched Hermoine open her mouth to speak, but quickly close it again. "Ah it's okay Herm," she began, using the nickname that her brother appointed to the brunette, "Not your fault I got into this mess. But hey, you never know what might come out of it." She stood up from the couch and walked over to the stairway leading to the girl's dormitory.
"You think Professor McGonagall would flip?" Hermoine asked, surveying the damage she and her green-eyed friend caused.
"I would be pretty disappointed if she didn't," Ginny answered with a smirk. She then ascended up the stairs and into her room to change into something. . .less formal. It was after all a Saturday.