Not Your Ordinary Love Story
by LondonWitch
A/N: Wow...chapter seven. When I started this, all I had planned was the Ron/Hermione bet and the Harry/Ginny dare, nothing with Draco/Cho, Dean/Parvati or Neville/Luna at all. I'm glad that everyone's enjoying themselves, and you all know the drill by now: this is not by J.K. Rowling. I am not J.K. Rowling. (Sigh.) Oh, and happy birthday, Jen, if this story actually matched up with the correct day. (Smile.)
Chapter Seven: A Fred, A George, And Some Candies
Tuesday, September 24th
'Time is galleons' was Fred and George's favorite saying. So unless it had to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – forget it. They wouldn't help out in a million years. Every particle of their being right now was devoted to their thriving joke shops, one each in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, and a mail-order service in the Daily Prophet.
But when Dean Thomas wrote and asked them to help out with Ron and Hermione, the twins had to agree. Ever since about their third year at Hogwarts, Ron's second, they could see that he fancied her, and she him. Fred and George teased him constantly over the summer holidays after the Yule Ball, especially about Viktor Krum. That one always hit a nerve.
In the end, it was decided that the twins would manufacture a magical candy called 'The Sweetie' (Ginny and Harry had suggested it), that would make the eater tell everyone they encountered what they truly felt about them. The properties would wear off after an hour or so. They'd send it to Dean by owl when they were finished, and it needed to be done soon if the Gryffindors wanted to win the majority of the bet.
The twins were sitting in their Diagon Alley office, George looking over some paperwork on last month's sales, and Fred thinking up ideas for this candy. He wanted to add all sorts of extra bells and whistles, but George had to put his foot down.
"Sorry, bro, but we've got to get Hermione to eat this. We can get Ron to eat any candy outright, but for Hermione they may have to conceal it inside of a biscuit or something," George had said after Fred suggested having the candy change your tongue to green after the truth property had worn off.
"Why can't we do something with color? I want to have fun with this, besides – we're not even getting paid," Fred almost whined, tossing above his head a joke wand, which changed into a yellow rubber duck as he caught it.
George thought about it for a minute, and then said slowly, "You know – you might be onto something. How about, if the truth property is still in effect, then your tongue is turned a light purple or something. Then, after it's gone, the color disappears. That way everyone would know whether you were saying something out of your own free will or not."
Fred grinned and squeezed the rubber duck excitedly, and it began to quack consistently and loudly. "I like it!" he yelled over the duck's din, "But can we make it so that the eater's mouth smokes for a few days afterward?"
George shook his head and whipped out his wand, muttering "Sonorous." The duck's quacking ceased. Fred sighed and went to look over his brother's shoulder at the paperwork. His eyes widened in disbelief as he groaned.
"We've only sold half of what we used to in Skiving Snackboxes at the Hogsmeade shop," he pointed out with the tip of his wand. The figures were smaller than any other product's on the page.
"Yeah, I heard that everyone was buying them there like mad, until a certain Gryffindor prefect started to confiscate them all. Colin and Dennis Creevey were talking about that last time I popped in over there," George replied with a hearty shake of his head.
"Three guesses who," Fred replied crisply, with a small smirk and a roll of his eyes.
"Ya'know, maybe that whole smoking at the mouth thing isn't such a bad idea after all," George mused, laughing. He got up and walked over to a table in the corner, it was buckling under the various joke-device-making equipment. "Let's get to work."
Meanwhile at Hogwarts, still Tuesday, September 24th...
The day following the 'rose charade', Harry and Ginny spent the better time of their lunch break strolling around the lake. This was helpful for several reasons: one, to give them a chance to get away from everyone who thought that they were going out, and two; to contemplate a plan to get Neville and Luna Lovegood together.
"Neville's very shy; I don't think he'd go for anything that was mushy, like a love letter or anything. It needs to be subtle," Harry pointed out as they passed a large clump of bushes shaped like hippogriffs.
Ginny nodded, and cocked her head to one side, thinking for a few minutes. She'd been more quiet than usual after the previous morning, and no one could figure out why. All of the student body who didn't know about the dare just assumed that she was too smitten with Harry to pay attention to anything else.
Harry had noticed the silence as well, and said very suddenly, "What's up, Ginny? Why haven't you said more than four words since we got out here? Not to mention yesterday afternoon?"
"I've said five words since we've got out here, for your information: 'Let me think for awhile,'" Ginny huffed, glaring at him for no cause that Harry could figure. Harry was a bit taken aback, but he just raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
"And I think it does have to be subtle for Neville and Luna, but why are we worrying about them, Harry? Don't we need to 'contemplate our plan', or something?" Ginny added after another long pause. She bent down and yanked up a handful of grass for no particular reason, and then threw it into the slight breeze that blew about them.
Harry sighed. He didn't have to 'contemplate the plan', as Ginny called it – it was easy for him to pretend he loved her. Because...well...because he thought he probably did. Love her, he loved her. He'd come to that conclusion the night before, when he had been wondering about that hollow, empty feeling he'd gotten after Ginny hadn't kissed him. He sighed again, life was too confusing.
"What are you sighing for? If you really want to make a plan, I've got one for you." Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned quickly to face him. She looked him straight in the eye and said, "We tell Neville to meet you in the library at so-and-so time, he thinks you'll tutor him in Transfiguration. We tell Luna to meet me in the library at the same time, and she thinks I want an interview for the Quibbler or something. We don't show up. They're both there, and they talk. Simple as that."
"Good, good. But how did you know Neville isn't great in Transfiguration?" Harry asked, Ginny wouldn't know as she was a year below them, in her 5th.
"Neville isn't great in any of his classes, except maybe Herbology. You can't tell just by looking at him while he studies hopelessly? And – Harry – I don't need to contemplate our plan, anyway. I'm doing just fine without it."
With that, she suddenly leaned over and kissed him quickly. Then, without a word, and her cheeks going beet red, she hurried away across the castle grounds towards the front steps.
Harry was left staring after her in the chilly late September air, wondering not about the kiss (because that was very easy to interpret), but as to why he hadn't thought to wear a sweatshirt that morning.
A/N: Boys are very oblivious, aren't they?