"Tomato Soup"

By: Syden Paige

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Ginny was a simple girl with simple wants and needs. Ron asks her what her dream date would be. She answers, "One table, two people and a bowl of tomato soup."

Ron paced back and forth in the library, his finger on his chin. He was deep in thought, his eyes straying to which ever spot and his face set in a dreamy expression. He looked quite irritated to say the least, but the aggravation was a good thing in his little sister's perspective.

Ginny Weasley knew of what her brother was dazing off and on about. He needed to figure out what he would do tonight for his date with Hermione. Only less then a few hours ago did he finally ask the smart witch for her hand in dating. She blushed a deep scarlet and nodded numbly, before scurrying away to her next class. Ginny, unfortunately, missed the blessed event.

"Ron …" whined Ginny, sitting in one of the wooden chairs. Her short legs were swinging back and forth, not even touching the ground. Her red mane was tied up in a loose and curly bun. "We've been here for nearly an hour. There is nothing on dating here!"

Ron, who wasn't paying any attention at all, sat across from Ginny and let his hand gesture something vague in the air. "That's good …" he mumbled. His hand then went limp as his facial features drooped. "No … not good … no … not at all …"

Ginny growled and smacked her forehead against the hard table. She banged it brutally, resulting in a large red circle to appear.

Ron stopped suddenly and looked at his sister, brilliance written all over his face. "I've got it!" he exclaimed, throwing his finger in the air.

Ginny lifted her head and stared at him, both her eyebrows raised. For some odd reason, Ronald always had a hard way with thinking, mainly because the boy hardly ever thought. She stared at him blankly, waiting for his amazing answer.

He grinned. "I'll ask you!" he said happily, clapping his hands together like a small child who just got a new toy. He thought it to be such an explainable reply, Ginny just had to giggle a bit. He looked like he just found the eighth wonder of the world. His smile was wider then Crabbe's waist and his eyes glittered with pure glee.

Ginny ceased with her tiny giggles and looked at him.

He was serious.

"Oh …" stated Ginny, regaining her composure. "Well … uh … ask away?"

Ron nodded. "What would be your favorite date?" he asked bluntly, leaning over and pointing to her nose. His eyes were squinted slightly, his lips together in angst.

Ginny sighed and responded, "Well … I don't know. I'm not really the type of girl who is in need of a date. I mean, a stroll throughout the grounds would be quite nice. Maybe a little sitting by the lake. What do you think?"

"Hhmm …" murmured Ron. He looked a little uncertain. "Well … the lake suggestion sounds suitable. What would I do though? How would I proceed to telling her how exactly I feel? I can't just come out with it and have nothing to offer. I may be cruel, but not that cruel."

Ginny bit her lip. "I honestly don't know what to tell you, Ron. I know Hermione is my best friend and all, but boys never really came into the conversation when we spoke. Why don't you ask Harry about these things?" she asked sweetly.

Ron shook his head. "Harry's off to see Lupin for the day. He doesn't know I asked Hermione yet." He sighed. "What do I do, Ginny? Tell me what you'd want a bloke to do for you by the lake."

Ginny smiled. "I guess … I guess I want him to make the lake a surprise. I want him to kidnap me and take me away to where he planned the whole thing. He'd be in disguise of course. Then … I want him to talk to me as I'm blindfolded, holding my hand … telling me how the world looks around us. He'd ask how it felt to seem blind … and I'd answer happily." Ginny had an absentminded illustration flitted on her face, sighing here and then. "Just do something that would make her toes curl, Ron. Do something that would make her talk about it for as long as she can. Just make her want to do it with you again."

Ron looked proudly at his sister. "You're real special, you know that Gin?" he asked thoughtfully. "Never in my life have I seen you so poetic before. I may hate it, but you're relatively grown up."

Ginny snorted. "I'm sixteen, brother dear. I'm not that old now!"

Ron looked grave again. "But … what do I give her to eat?"

Ginny gazed longingly out the window, directly at the lake, and said softly, "A hefty bowl of tomato soup."

Hiding behind a concrete wall, Ginny peered over the stone, her eyes sparkling with pure adoration and amusement. She was spying on her brother dearest, her body dressed in black. After a few more minutes in the library, they've come to a decision and stated that he would take her out to the quidditch stands. Hermione was simply terrified at the thought of handling a broom. She was scared out of her wits.

Ginny was in one of the stands, the Slytherin's stand to be exact. Standing at that angle gave her the best view of her nervous brother and a flushed Hermione. They were walking side by side, their shoulders touching and their arms brushing each other's occasionally. Ginny sighed dreamily and watched as Ron accio-ed his broom into his hand.

Hermione shook her head furiously, her hands up in defense. Ginny could hear her shriek, "I am not riding that broom, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth to cease with her giggling. It was simply adorable how Hermione was the only girl Ron could ever tolerate. She screamed and yelled, yet, Ron always stuck with her, no matter how horrible she may be sometimes. He wasn't any different. He would always eat with his mouth open, or copy his notes from someone else. Hermione would scold him with that stern voice of hers, but he'd merely shrug her off and have a little cha with Harry. It was amazing how two very could be diverse, yet similar all at the same time.

Ginny stared as Ron grabbed Hermione without her consent and mounted himself and her onto his broom, zooming off before she can protest any longer. Ginny pulled away from the sight and sighed contentedly, happy for her brother and very happy for the date he was on. She slid down the wall, her legs up against her chest. It was days like these that made her smile. Letting her head fall back onto the stone, cold wall, she closed her eyes and breathed slowly, savoring the feeling of the chilly and fresh night. The air was refreshing and the stars shone brightly over the castle called Hogwarts. Ginny's unusually baggy cloak was draping off her body, making her look much bigger than she truly was. But, she didn't care. A goofy grin was plastered on to her pale, angelic face. Her chest rose up and down, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled another enormous amount of air.

Before she could say another word, her body was being pulled up and pressed up against another. She struggled violently, her eyes refusing to open. A thick cloth was placed over them, a large, but smooth palm holding itself over her lips. Her back was facing the attacker's front, leaving her at a disadvantage. She writhed under his bounds, feeling herself being dragged away from the sight. She kept mumbling the words, "Ron! Help! Mione!", but to no avail. They wouldn't be able to hear her anyways. Her voice was so muffled by his hand, she couldn't even hear herself.

Her feet were scuffing the tiled floor of Hogwarts, but soon were met by soft mounds of something that was broken apart. Her mind reeled as she came to the conclusion that she was outside, probably on the grass. Smoke filled her nose, making her thrash about even more. The aggressor said nothing, still seizing her body and heaving her to wherever destination he planned.

Ginny continued her incoherent mumbles and brutal scuffles, until the person finally stopped and tightened the grip on her. Ginny whimpered a little, her eyes completely shaded underneath whatever he placed around her head. He then gently placed her in a chair, as if trusting her not to move.

She did.

She jerked up and made a move to run, but fell forward, her hands frozen into he sides and her legs stiffened together. She heard and felt him chuckle, hoisting her body up and positioning her into the chair once more. Ginny quivered faintly, her throat dry and her heart crying.

She hung her head down, massaging her lips together and feeling that they were chapped. She wondered what this attacker wanted with her or wanted to do to her. She couldn't bear being abducted by some maniac who strived for nothing but sex. Now that frightened her. Her mind deep in thought, she heard a cool and collected voice. "Scared?"

Ginny shivered. "Let me go …" she said throatily. She stayed perfectly still, not wanting to anger him.

He guffawed. "Now … why would I do that?"

Ginny swallowed. "I … I don't know," she whispered.

Silence befell around them. Ginny was still looking down at her lap, or what she thought was her lap. Her curly, wild hair was now down, cascading around the frame of her face. The cloth that was shielding her eyes was tied securely, a little bow just behind her head. She was sniffling irregularly, her eyes now adjusting to the blackness that was surrounding her.

"How does it feel to be blind?" she heard him ask.

Ginny felt a chill go down her spine. Where had she heard that before? "It's strange," she answered softly, at least wanting to be civil with him. She figured he would be kinder and let her go if she was sincere.

"How so?"

"I can't see a thing. It's all darkness," she started. "I don't like living in the dark. Defeats the purpose of facing your fears. How can you confront your problems when it's too dark to even see them? I find it rather … distressing …"

"So … basically you're saying that you want to be able to have the gift of sight again?" he asking, drawling.

Ginny knew she's heard that voice before. It was deep, but clear. He enunciated each word slowly, as if relishing the feeling of talking. He sounded somewhat mature, from the way he spoke. He also sounded very secure of himself and contented with who he was. She didn't know how to got all that from just hearing him speak, but those were her assumptions and she believed in them. "Yes," she replied in a small voice.

She heard nothing after that.

Thinking that he would take the cover off of her, she snapped her head to the right and guess what she was looking at.

"You're looking at the whomping willow," he stated. "It's faraway, but you can still see it from this distance. It's moving around wildly … I don't understand why …"

Ginny nodded numbly and tilted her head upwards.

"Now … you're directing your head against the stars. It's not all that dark. The sky still has its tint of orange and yellow in it."

Ginny then shifted her head to the left.

"That's where the castle is. It looks the same."

After a few minutes of keeping her head at that position, she looked at him.

He sighed.

Waiting for his voice to say something, she suddenly felt a cold breeze befall her eyelids and the top of her nose. That's when she realized that he must of taken off the material.

Hesitantly opening her eyes, they widened. "Oh my God …" she whispered.

She was seated at a luxurious table, two chairs facing each other. Two glasses were filled with whine and each person had their own spoon.

And right there, in the middle of the table, was a bowl of tomato soup. It was decorated with shredded cheese and frayed basil.

Looking farther into the table, she felt her breath get caught in her throat.

The King of Slytherin himself was seated in front of her, his wand drawn out, obviously because he just performed a charm to take away the blind fold. He was dressed all in black, except for his sweater, which was a dark green.

Ginny felt herself smile when she saw a huge "D" stitched onto it.

He pocketed his wand and gazed at her. "Soup, Weasley?"