Disclaimer: I own nothing, so don't sue me. You wouldn't get anything
anyway. I'm broke.
I shot out of the fireplace at the Burrow with very little grace, coughing and choking on ash and soot. Floo powder had never been my favorite way to travel, and as I scrambled to my feet, I loathed it even more; my pants were ruined.
Three popping noises, all directly in front of me, brought me from my examination of the state of my clothing, and I looked up at the Golden Trio. All three were angry – livid, more like – and all three seemed to have no intentions of letting me leave the living room.
Glaring at the people I had once considered friends, I dropped unceremoniously into one of the wooden chairs that dotted the living room. The trio of seventeen-year-olds stared at me, as though so furious they didn't know what to say.
I rolled my eyes.
"If you have some petty lecture to give me, I ask you to do so now, and make it quick. I have to finish packing my things, and I believe mum's going to want help with dinner."
Ron folded his arms, and stood stock still, not sure what to say. Hermione did the same, though she looked like she had a lot to say but wasn't willing to say it. Harry started to pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"You have nothing to say? Works for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find mum so she can try and get the soot out of these jeans." I rose from my chair, only to be pushed back down by Wonder Boy himself.
"You aren't going anywhere, Ginny," Ron snarled.
I sighed. It had been worth a try.
"Ginny, we're worried about you. All of us. Is there something going on that you'd like to tell us about? Because we're here to help, you know."
"Listen, Hermione. I don't need help. If I needed help, I would ask for it. I don't have any problems, other than the fact that I can't control my own life. I don't have anything to tell you, because there is nothing in my life that concerns you. Any of you. Any other questions, or are we through here?" I said it all calmly, and was quite pleased with myself; I was being decent.
"Ginny. You seriously need help. Are you not capable of having a fucking civilized conversation?"
"Excuse me, Mister Potter, but I believe you are the one uttering profanities, not me. I also believe that I have stated my position quite clearly and calmly, and if you mistake my words for being uncivilized, well, that's your problem. I cannot be blamed for your misconceptions. Now. Is there anything else you wish to say to me, or may I be excused?"
Ron pointed to the door, and I stood, leaving the three to discuss me and my 'problems' in private. I had just rounded the corner towards the kitchen, when I heard Harry's voice carrying down the hall:
"She is so fucking fucked up!"
I wasn't surprised that my brother didn't defend me:
"I know mate, I know. But she'll come around, just wait. It's just a phase, that's what mum's been saying all summer."
Shaking my head in disbelief at their idiocy, I wandered into the kitchen, where my mother was preparing dinner.
"Can I help, mum?"
"Yes of course, dear! If I could get you to set the tables outside, it would be one less thing for me to do."
"Outside?"
"Yes, dear, outside. It's such a lovely evening, and this is the last day of the summer holidays, so I thought we should take advantage of the weather, and eat outside."
"Okay, mum."
I grabbed the dishes, and carted them outside, where the long wooden tables had already been set up and covered in tablecloths. After setting each place with plates and dishes, I wandered back inside, to where my mother was putting the finishing touches on a roast turkey.
"Looks delicious, mum," I murmured, inhaling the tantalizing aroma.
"Why thank you, dear. But, Ginny, what have you got all over your pants?" She pointed at my blue jeans, which were still covered in soot.
"Oh. Soot. Traveling by floo powder..."
She pulled out her wand, and pointed it at my dust-covered pants, removing the ash with a flick of her wrist.
"There you go, dear. Good as new."
"Thanks, mum."
It was quite amazing; my mother and I had just had a decent conversation. We hadn't had one of those all summer.
A shrill beeping sound emanated from the oven, and my mother turned away to check on whatever was inside, before turning back to me.
"Ginny dear, would you please go find your brother and his friends? Dinner's ready, and I don't want it to get cold."
"Sure mum."
Turning on my heel, I wandered down the hall to where I had last seen my brother and his friends, and wasn't surprised to find that they were still in the living room. Hermione and Ron were seated on the couch, while Harry was still pacing.
"You know, Ron, I just don't get it. She used to be so..." Harry's voice trailed off, and I stopped in the doorway to listen – they didn't notice me, so I took advantage of their ignorance.
"Normal?" Ron supplied, watching his friend pace.
"Well, yea. I mean, she couldn't be totally normal, not after being possessed by Voldemort, but she was pretty normal for having gone through something like that."
"I know mate, I know."
"I'm surprised at you two! Ginny is obviously in some sort of trouble, and all you care about is the fact that she's not following you around like a lost puppy like she used to!"
Well, Gin, at least Hermione is sort of defending you. Well, yea, but she's still on about me being in trouble. Oh! Wait! She's talking again.
"I've read about stuff like this, and I've heard about it in the news. Say Malfoy did rape her. He probably threatened her, or something, and told her that if she told anyone he'd hurt her again. And, because of the stigma surrounding rape, she's probably too scared to tell anyone anyway."
"The fucking bastard! I'll kill him!"
"No, Harry. You can't."
"But 'Mione!"
"Think about it. Ginny's in trouble, and if Malfoy is the root of it, what good would it do to do anything to him?"
"It'd fix everything!"
"No, Ron, it wouldn't. He's probably threatened her, and if you two go making trouble with him, being more horrible to him than you usually are, he could seriously hurt her. We've got to think of Ginny, not just the fact that Malfoy is involved."
Unconsciously, a smirk crossed my lips, as I listened to Hermione try to make my brother and Harry see reason. It truly amused me that they still thought I was in some sort of trouble with Draco.
Well, Gin-gin, they're really quite obsessive about seeing problems where there aren't any, you know. It shouldn't be a surprise.
With that through swirling through my laughing brain, I looked from Harry, who had his back to the room and was looking out the window, to Ron, who had his head in his hands, and to Hermione, who was watching Harry. All were still oblivious to my presence.
"Dinner's ready," I said from my place in the doorway, and all three heads snapped up and turned in my direction. I watched in sadistic amusement as each face registered shock, anger, embarrassment, fear, and anger again in rapid succession.
"How long've you been standing there, Ginny?" Ron asked, gulping.
"Not long. But I thought I told you that if you wanted to talk about me, you should do it somewhere that I'm not likely to hear you. It would save you a lot of wasted emotion, you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, if you were to talk about me where I wouldn't hear, you wouldn't worry about me overhearing, you wouldn't be afraid of me walking in on you, and, as I've done just now, when you do find me listening, you won't be afraid, angry, shocked, or embarrassed. A lot of saved emotion."
All three walked towards me, slowly, cautiously, Harry eyeing me up and down, as he would an enemy.
"What did you hear, Ginny?" He asked, coming to stand in front of me.
Not moving from my position of leaning against the doorframe, I smirked up at Wonder Boy, and raised a brow, quite enjoying myself.
Dear Merlin, Gin! You've hardly spent any time with Draco, and already you're acting like him. It's truly amazing, you know, how fast you pick up other people's habits.
"You'll never know that, will you Harry?"
With that, I pushed myself away from the doorframe, and turned away from three shocked faces, quite ready to eat dinner and be able to escape from my family.
They followed; I could hear three sets of footsteps on the wooden floor behind me. They said nothing however, merely trailed along behind me more or less like they had no idea where they were going. We arrived in the backyard just as the rest of the family was sitting down. I dropped into a seat between Fred and George, absently noting that Wonder Boy chose the seat opposite mine.
((A/N: Just to warn you, I've thrown Percy back into the family. Even though he's the world's biggest prat, I figure it might come in useful to have him part of the Weasley clan once again, so bear with me in my insanity. *snicker*))
Percy was already talking to my father, rambling on about some sort of underage drinking law, my mother was busy handing around food, and Fred and George were unusually quiet. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were chatting amiably about Quidditch, and I was quite pleased that I seemed to have been forgotten for the moment.
The meal started off quite well, in my opinion. For the first little while, but for the significant looks I was receiving from Percy as he explained to my father about how the Ministry is planning on putting in place stricter laws about drinking for underage wizards and witches (apparently we aren't trusted when intoxicated, as we might go and throw a few Unforgivables around.), all was well. Fred and George were still unusually subdued, which made me a little wary, but I wasn't tormented by the Golden Trio, which was a relief.
As the meal progressed, I noticed a few things. The first being that the twins had started shooting me dark looks. The second was that Harry had stopped participating in the discussion of wizard's chess between Ron and Hermione, and was constantly attempting to engage me in conversation.
"Have you been training for Quidditch over the summer, Ginny?" Harry inquired, before taking a long draught of butterbeer.
"No, why?" I was entirely unconcerned; last year I had been the best Chaser in the school, and I saw no reason why I should have to practice. I, after all, was not the one who had missed the Snitch twice last season.
Harry nearly choked on his butterbeer, causing much unwanted attention to drift towards the two of us.
"Problem, Harry?" George asked amusedly.
"N-not really, George, thanks."
"Then why'd you almost choke on your butterbeer?" Fred queried, smirking.
"Ginny's not been practicing Quidditch." Harry said it as though it would be the end of the world, and I rolled my eyes.
Both Fred and George turned to me, frowns on their faces.
Now you've done it, Gin-gin! If you'd told that idiot Potter that you'd practiced, you wouldn't have to go through the impending and unavoidable lecture that's about to come spilling from the twins.
"Why haven't you been practicing, Ginny?"
"Because I've been doing other things, George."
"Oh yes. You've been doing Malfoy. Forgot about that."
"Actually, it was only the once. Sorry to disappoint."
Everyone was looking at me now, eight sets of eyes following my actions, the complete attention of eight people fixed on me.
Ginny, you are such a prat!
"Then what was it that George and I saw from our shop window this afternoon at Diagon Alley?" Fred snarled, cracking his knuckles as though he wanted very much to hit someone.
Damn it, Gin, you forgot about the shop! You're supposed to be an observant child, Virginia Weasley! You should know by now to look at your surroundings before you go doing something that's not suitable for your family to see!
"What was Ginny doing?" Harry asked, his gaze locked with mine.
"Talking to Malfoy."
"Talking."
"And kissing."
"It was just one bloody kiss, you know," I felt obliged to point that out, lest they get false images plastered in their oh so overprotective minds.
"You were kissing Malfoy?" Ron was livid.
"Just the once. And he initiated it, not me."
"THAT DOESN'T BLOODY MATTER, GINNY! YOU WERE KISSING THE ENEMY!" Ron's shout quite literally scared the birds out of the tree.
I rolled my eyes, and looked down the table towards my father, who appeared quite shocked. I took a guess that he hadn't heard about my little soiree with Draco yet.
"Father, may I please be excused? I believe my presence here will only further agitate Ronald, and Heaven knows I wouldn't want to be the source of his ire, or anyone else's for that matter."
Arthur Weasley did nothing but nod, before looking to my mother for explanation.
Smirking, I rose from my seat and took my leave of the dinner table, quite pleased with myself for raising the fury of my family so swiftly and so easily.
Damn, Gin, you should be in Slytherin for the way you're acting!
Ignoring my conscience, as it was always trying to ruin my fun, I trotted up the stairs to my bedroom and began to go through my school things one last time, making sure I had everything I would need for the new term.
I had just finished going through my school books and supplies, and had just started on my clothes, when the all-too-familiar prickles on the back of my neck caused me to turn and faced the Boy Who Lived, who stood once again in my doorway.
"What do you want, Harry?"
"I've already told you that, Ginny."
"I'm afraid, Mister Potter, that I want nothing to do with you. You'll have to take your virginal yearnings somewhere else."
Ooh! Good one, Gin! That's damn sure to piss him off! Better watch out, though; he has a wand he can use, and he's a lot bigger than you.
"What did you just say, Ginny?" His voice was cold, unpleasantly so, and I smirked, positively delighted that I'd hit a nerve.
"I've told you that you'll have to go find someone else to relieve your pent-up sexual tension. I'm not a call girl, Potter."
Harry advanced on me, closing the door of my bedroom behind him and pulling out his wand. I watched his lips form the words of a spell, and waited patiently from my position on the floor, surrounded by piles of socks, underwear, blue jeans, tee shirts and school uniforms.
When he was standing in front of me, towering over my seated form much like a dragon towers over its handler, I sighed. Dumbledore's Golden Boy really was quite a pain in my ass.
"I want you, Ginny." He said it as though I should throw myself in his arms and ravish him at the statement.
"And your point is?" I was quite bored with the situation; we'd already gone through it once today.
"Malfoy doesn't deserve you. I deserve you."
I laughed outright at that statement, and was quite surprised to feel his hands on my upper arms, hauling me into a standing position.
"Sorry to burst your over-inflated ego, Mister Potter, but I'll decide who deserves me and who doesn't. And, at the moment, Draco deserves me."
He pushed me away from him, towards my bed, and I stumbled, landing with a soft thump on the mattress. Stalking towards the bed, and coming to a stop at the foot of the mattress, Harry looked me up and down.
Gin, I think you're in trouble.
A/N: I'm going to end this chapter here, 'cause I feel like being kinda evil and not letting you know what happens next. Meh.
Now, though, I have some truly sad news to impart; school is starting back up again, and since I have classes, that means homework. And homework means less time to spend writing fics, so that means that I won't be updating as often as I should like.
My most sincere apologies to all my lovely reviewers whom I love, and anyone else who reads this but doesn't review; I love you too.
I shot out of the fireplace at the Burrow with very little grace, coughing and choking on ash and soot. Floo powder had never been my favorite way to travel, and as I scrambled to my feet, I loathed it even more; my pants were ruined.
Three popping noises, all directly in front of me, brought me from my examination of the state of my clothing, and I looked up at the Golden Trio. All three were angry – livid, more like – and all three seemed to have no intentions of letting me leave the living room.
Glaring at the people I had once considered friends, I dropped unceremoniously into one of the wooden chairs that dotted the living room. The trio of seventeen-year-olds stared at me, as though so furious they didn't know what to say.
I rolled my eyes.
"If you have some petty lecture to give me, I ask you to do so now, and make it quick. I have to finish packing my things, and I believe mum's going to want help with dinner."
Ron folded his arms, and stood stock still, not sure what to say. Hermione did the same, though she looked like she had a lot to say but wasn't willing to say it. Harry started to pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"You have nothing to say? Works for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find mum so she can try and get the soot out of these jeans." I rose from my chair, only to be pushed back down by Wonder Boy himself.
"You aren't going anywhere, Ginny," Ron snarled.
I sighed. It had been worth a try.
"Ginny, we're worried about you. All of us. Is there something going on that you'd like to tell us about? Because we're here to help, you know."
"Listen, Hermione. I don't need help. If I needed help, I would ask for it. I don't have any problems, other than the fact that I can't control my own life. I don't have anything to tell you, because there is nothing in my life that concerns you. Any of you. Any other questions, or are we through here?" I said it all calmly, and was quite pleased with myself; I was being decent.
"Ginny. You seriously need help. Are you not capable of having a fucking civilized conversation?"
"Excuse me, Mister Potter, but I believe you are the one uttering profanities, not me. I also believe that I have stated my position quite clearly and calmly, and if you mistake my words for being uncivilized, well, that's your problem. I cannot be blamed for your misconceptions. Now. Is there anything else you wish to say to me, or may I be excused?"
Ron pointed to the door, and I stood, leaving the three to discuss me and my 'problems' in private. I had just rounded the corner towards the kitchen, when I heard Harry's voice carrying down the hall:
"She is so fucking fucked up!"
I wasn't surprised that my brother didn't defend me:
"I know mate, I know. But she'll come around, just wait. It's just a phase, that's what mum's been saying all summer."
Shaking my head in disbelief at their idiocy, I wandered into the kitchen, where my mother was preparing dinner.
"Can I help, mum?"
"Yes of course, dear! If I could get you to set the tables outside, it would be one less thing for me to do."
"Outside?"
"Yes, dear, outside. It's such a lovely evening, and this is the last day of the summer holidays, so I thought we should take advantage of the weather, and eat outside."
"Okay, mum."
I grabbed the dishes, and carted them outside, where the long wooden tables had already been set up and covered in tablecloths. After setting each place with plates and dishes, I wandered back inside, to where my mother was putting the finishing touches on a roast turkey.
"Looks delicious, mum," I murmured, inhaling the tantalizing aroma.
"Why thank you, dear. But, Ginny, what have you got all over your pants?" She pointed at my blue jeans, which were still covered in soot.
"Oh. Soot. Traveling by floo powder..."
She pulled out her wand, and pointed it at my dust-covered pants, removing the ash with a flick of her wrist.
"There you go, dear. Good as new."
"Thanks, mum."
It was quite amazing; my mother and I had just had a decent conversation. We hadn't had one of those all summer.
A shrill beeping sound emanated from the oven, and my mother turned away to check on whatever was inside, before turning back to me.
"Ginny dear, would you please go find your brother and his friends? Dinner's ready, and I don't want it to get cold."
"Sure mum."
Turning on my heel, I wandered down the hall to where I had last seen my brother and his friends, and wasn't surprised to find that they were still in the living room. Hermione and Ron were seated on the couch, while Harry was still pacing.
"You know, Ron, I just don't get it. She used to be so..." Harry's voice trailed off, and I stopped in the doorway to listen – they didn't notice me, so I took advantage of their ignorance.
"Normal?" Ron supplied, watching his friend pace.
"Well, yea. I mean, she couldn't be totally normal, not after being possessed by Voldemort, but she was pretty normal for having gone through something like that."
"I know mate, I know."
"I'm surprised at you two! Ginny is obviously in some sort of trouble, and all you care about is the fact that she's not following you around like a lost puppy like she used to!"
Well, Gin, at least Hermione is sort of defending you. Well, yea, but she's still on about me being in trouble. Oh! Wait! She's talking again.
"I've read about stuff like this, and I've heard about it in the news. Say Malfoy did rape her. He probably threatened her, or something, and told her that if she told anyone he'd hurt her again. And, because of the stigma surrounding rape, she's probably too scared to tell anyone anyway."
"The fucking bastard! I'll kill him!"
"No, Harry. You can't."
"But 'Mione!"
"Think about it. Ginny's in trouble, and if Malfoy is the root of it, what good would it do to do anything to him?"
"It'd fix everything!"
"No, Ron, it wouldn't. He's probably threatened her, and if you two go making trouble with him, being more horrible to him than you usually are, he could seriously hurt her. We've got to think of Ginny, not just the fact that Malfoy is involved."
Unconsciously, a smirk crossed my lips, as I listened to Hermione try to make my brother and Harry see reason. It truly amused me that they still thought I was in some sort of trouble with Draco.
Well, Gin-gin, they're really quite obsessive about seeing problems where there aren't any, you know. It shouldn't be a surprise.
With that through swirling through my laughing brain, I looked from Harry, who had his back to the room and was looking out the window, to Ron, who had his head in his hands, and to Hermione, who was watching Harry. All were still oblivious to my presence.
"Dinner's ready," I said from my place in the doorway, and all three heads snapped up and turned in my direction. I watched in sadistic amusement as each face registered shock, anger, embarrassment, fear, and anger again in rapid succession.
"How long've you been standing there, Ginny?" Ron asked, gulping.
"Not long. But I thought I told you that if you wanted to talk about me, you should do it somewhere that I'm not likely to hear you. It would save you a lot of wasted emotion, you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, if you were to talk about me where I wouldn't hear, you wouldn't worry about me overhearing, you wouldn't be afraid of me walking in on you, and, as I've done just now, when you do find me listening, you won't be afraid, angry, shocked, or embarrassed. A lot of saved emotion."
All three walked towards me, slowly, cautiously, Harry eyeing me up and down, as he would an enemy.
"What did you hear, Ginny?" He asked, coming to stand in front of me.
Not moving from my position of leaning against the doorframe, I smirked up at Wonder Boy, and raised a brow, quite enjoying myself.
Dear Merlin, Gin! You've hardly spent any time with Draco, and already you're acting like him. It's truly amazing, you know, how fast you pick up other people's habits.
"You'll never know that, will you Harry?"
With that, I pushed myself away from the doorframe, and turned away from three shocked faces, quite ready to eat dinner and be able to escape from my family.
They followed; I could hear three sets of footsteps on the wooden floor behind me. They said nothing however, merely trailed along behind me more or less like they had no idea where they were going. We arrived in the backyard just as the rest of the family was sitting down. I dropped into a seat between Fred and George, absently noting that Wonder Boy chose the seat opposite mine.
((A/N: Just to warn you, I've thrown Percy back into the family. Even though he's the world's biggest prat, I figure it might come in useful to have him part of the Weasley clan once again, so bear with me in my insanity. *snicker*))
Percy was already talking to my father, rambling on about some sort of underage drinking law, my mother was busy handing around food, and Fred and George were unusually quiet. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were chatting amiably about Quidditch, and I was quite pleased that I seemed to have been forgotten for the moment.
The meal started off quite well, in my opinion. For the first little while, but for the significant looks I was receiving from Percy as he explained to my father about how the Ministry is planning on putting in place stricter laws about drinking for underage wizards and witches (apparently we aren't trusted when intoxicated, as we might go and throw a few Unforgivables around.), all was well. Fred and George were still unusually subdued, which made me a little wary, but I wasn't tormented by the Golden Trio, which was a relief.
As the meal progressed, I noticed a few things. The first being that the twins had started shooting me dark looks. The second was that Harry had stopped participating in the discussion of wizard's chess between Ron and Hermione, and was constantly attempting to engage me in conversation.
"Have you been training for Quidditch over the summer, Ginny?" Harry inquired, before taking a long draught of butterbeer.
"No, why?" I was entirely unconcerned; last year I had been the best Chaser in the school, and I saw no reason why I should have to practice. I, after all, was not the one who had missed the Snitch twice last season.
Harry nearly choked on his butterbeer, causing much unwanted attention to drift towards the two of us.
"Problem, Harry?" George asked amusedly.
"N-not really, George, thanks."
"Then why'd you almost choke on your butterbeer?" Fred queried, smirking.
"Ginny's not been practicing Quidditch." Harry said it as though it would be the end of the world, and I rolled my eyes.
Both Fred and George turned to me, frowns on their faces.
Now you've done it, Gin-gin! If you'd told that idiot Potter that you'd practiced, you wouldn't have to go through the impending and unavoidable lecture that's about to come spilling from the twins.
"Why haven't you been practicing, Ginny?"
"Because I've been doing other things, George."
"Oh yes. You've been doing Malfoy. Forgot about that."
"Actually, it was only the once. Sorry to disappoint."
Everyone was looking at me now, eight sets of eyes following my actions, the complete attention of eight people fixed on me.
Ginny, you are such a prat!
"Then what was it that George and I saw from our shop window this afternoon at Diagon Alley?" Fred snarled, cracking his knuckles as though he wanted very much to hit someone.
Damn it, Gin, you forgot about the shop! You're supposed to be an observant child, Virginia Weasley! You should know by now to look at your surroundings before you go doing something that's not suitable for your family to see!
"What was Ginny doing?" Harry asked, his gaze locked with mine.
"Talking to Malfoy."
"Talking."
"And kissing."
"It was just one bloody kiss, you know," I felt obliged to point that out, lest they get false images plastered in their oh so overprotective minds.
"You were kissing Malfoy?" Ron was livid.
"Just the once. And he initiated it, not me."
"THAT DOESN'T BLOODY MATTER, GINNY! YOU WERE KISSING THE ENEMY!" Ron's shout quite literally scared the birds out of the tree.
I rolled my eyes, and looked down the table towards my father, who appeared quite shocked. I took a guess that he hadn't heard about my little soiree with Draco yet.
"Father, may I please be excused? I believe my presence here will only further agitate Ronald, and Heaven knows I wouldn't want to be the source of his ire, or anyone else's for that matter."
Arthur Weasley did nothing but nod, before looking to my mother for explanation.
Smirking, I rose from my seat and took my leave of the dinner table, quite pleased with myself for raising the fury of my family so swiftly and so easily.
Damn, Gin, you should be in Slytherin for the way you're acting!
Ignoring my conscience, as it was always trying to ruin my fun, I trotted up the stairs to my bedroom and began to go through my school things one last time, making sure I had everything I would need for the new term.
I had just finished going through my school books and supplies, and had just started on my clothes, when the all-too-familiar prickles on the back of my neck caused me to turn and faced the Boy Who Lived, who stood once again in my doorway.
"What do you want, Harry?"
"I've already told you that, Ginny."
"I'm afraid, Mister Potter, that I want nothing to do with you. You'll have to take your virginal yearnings somewhere else."
Ooh! Good one, Gin! That's damn sure to piss him off! Better watch out, though; he has a wand he can use, and he's a lot bigger than you.
"What did you just say, Ginny?" His voice was cold, unpleasantly so, and I smirked, positively delighted that I'd hit a nerve.
"I've told you that you'll have to go find someone else to relieve your pent-up sexual tension. I'm not a call girl, Potter."
Harry advanced on me, closing the door of my bedroom behind him and pulling out his wand. I watched his lips form the words of a spell, and waited patiently from my position on the floor, surrounded by piles of socks, underwear, blue jeans, tee shirts and school uniforms.
When he was standing in front of me, towering over my seated form much like a dragon towers over its handler, I sighed. Dumbledore's Golden Boy really was quite a pain in my ass.
"I want you, Ginny." He said it as though I should throw myself in his arms and ravish him at the statement.
"And your point is?" I was quite bored with the situation; we'd already gone through it once today.
"Malfoy doesn't deserve you. I deserve you."
I laughed outright at that statement, and was quite surprised to feel his hands on my upper arms, hauling me into a standing position.
"Sorry to burst your over-inflated ego, Mister Potter, but I'll decide who deserves me and who doesn't. And, at the moment, Draco deserves me."
He pushed me away from him, towards my bed, and I stumbled, landing with a soft thump on the mattress. Stalking towards the bed, and coming to a stop at the foot of the mattress, Harry looked me up and down.
Gin, I think you're in trouble.
A/N: I'm going to end this chapter here, 'cause I feel like being kinda evil and not letting you know what happens next. Meh.
Now, though, I have some truly sad news to impart; school is starting back up again, and since I have classes, that means homework. And homework means less time to spend writing fics, so that means that I won't be updating as often as I should like.
My most sincere apologies to all my lovely reviewers whom I love, and anyone else who reads this but doesn't review; I love you too.