Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, events and/or places that are recognized as being written and created by J.K. Rowling. J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and places from the Harry Potter books including the ones used in this story.
A/N: Much thanks to Le Grimoire, rikku099, thehpgang, Siriusly Sirius Lily Black, CharmedLeoLvr, YamiClara, BabyRuth,and Solecito (shirtless Sirius is mmm, indeed and I don't think he's really dead either!!) for commenting!!!! Thanks, also, to anyone who just read. Anyways, I know, I know, it was a bit far-fetched to make Ginny want to see that, but it's all explained. I was being pervy when I wrote that chapter!!! Lol! Enjoy! :D
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Hermione's face was frozen in shock. From Sirius's bedroom all the way back to her own, her eyes appeared as wide as saucer plates, and her mouth formed a permanent, slightly crooked, circle.
Ginny led Hermione by the shaking hand, holding her face in perfect seriousness, though bubbles of laughter threatened her performance.
The girls' bedroom door fell close as silently as Ginny could manage it. She leaned her back up against the door, starring with twinkling brown eyes at Hermione, who had sat down on her bed, tossed her head back, crossed her legs, and folded her hands over her knee. She glared at Ginny with enough intensity to rival Mrs. Weasley.
"What?" Ginny asked, beckoning Hermione to speak.
Hermione shook her head solemnly. "Who are you?" she asked, as Ginny burst into hysterics. "I don't even know who you are."
"I was joking," Ginny shouted indignantly, flopping down on her bed and propping her head up.
"No you weren't."
"Yes, I was!" Ginny kicked her leg up in the air, allowing it to slam back down on the creaky mattress. "I just said that to make you scream with mortification; or laugh, but I wasn't hoping."
"I don't believe you," Hermione retorted. "You wanted to see his-"
"Ew! Hermione; ew!" Ginny covered her eyes with her hands and blushed. "I honestly had no intentions or the desire to see anything."
Hermione tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips so tightly together, that it was a marvel that words found their way out of them. "Then why did you want to sneak into his room?"
"I was bored," Ginny whined. "What's my reason for doing anything since we got here? And…and…I don't want to tell you," she trailed off, dramatically turning her back to Hermione.
Standing up, Hermione resisted the immense urge to rip her hair out. She took a deep breath. "You can tell me, Ginny," she insisted in a strained, but trusting voice.
"No; it's too embarrassing!"
Hermione sighed, and pushed back the comfortable on her bed. She lay down, and snuggled herself against the cold wall. She didn't care anymore. She was tired, her nerves were shot.
The unmistakable sound of rusted springs bending under unfamiliar weight ended the short silent period. "Aren't you going to bug me?" Ginny asked. "Make me tell you? Threaten my life if I don't enlighten you?" The bedroom lights flickered off suddenly, and Ginny blinked into the fresh darkness. "I wanted to see what he looks like when he's sleeping."
"Good night, Ginny."
"I wanted to know if his hair spreads wildly over his pillows, falling slightly into his face. I wanted to know if he snores, or just breathes heavy; if his eyes flutter softly as he dreams, or if, even in sleep, do his lips curl up into that sly smile he always has. I just…I was just curious."
"Ginny?" Hermione asked, quietly.
Ginny sat up slightly, expectantly hoping that Hermione was going to help her paint the beautiful picture of Sirius sleeping. She waited for Hermione to start the elaboration.
"You forgot," –Hermione cleared her throat- "whether or not he wears pants to bed." Hermione's impersonation of Ginny's voice became corrupted by waves of laughter.
Ginny made a sound like "gurargle" and threw her spare pillow at the dark lump on the opposite bed. She flipped back over to face the wall. It was disheartening to her, it almost seemed disloyal to her that Hermione didn't believe that she was joking.
Her intentions from the beginning, while not wholly innocent, were never perverted.
The whole idea was a spawn from an overly bored mind. Earlier that night, after dinner, Ginny found herself locked in her room, with a depressive silent lump also known as Hermione "I had a fight with Ron, and I don't want to talk about it" Granger.
Mrs. Weasley sent each child to their respective rooms during an ultra important Order meeting. She was patrolling just incase; so escaping was the last possible thing Ginny could do. All she did for an entire hour was stare and count the raggedy cracks in the ceiling. She developed a knot of throbbing pain behind her right eye; it was still twitching.
Hermione refused to speak. Ron said something to her at dinner that made her not want to talk about boys, especially not men.
After two and a half hours of imprisonment, Ginny longed for fun, she longed for adventure. She longed to feel something other than mind killing boredom; she wanted to feel those nervous tingles she got whenever she was being sneaky.
Sneaky; sneak…into Sirius's room.
She decided after that, that two things will be accomplished by her adventure into Sirius's room. One, boredom would be replaced with the giddiness of spying on Sirius, and two, Hermione will be pulled along and possibly blamed for the whole thing, if it had to come to that.
It wasn't until they were in his room that Ginny decided to make Hermione think they were in there for not so innocent reasons. When Hermione characteristically shouted in defense of her giant feet, and Ginny jumped into a corner brushing against a jumper she swore at the time felt like a big, hulking, vicious hippogriff, she saw in a pile on the floor the trousers that Sirius wore that day.
She made the important decision that the best thing to do now was to scare Hermione's hair white. Luckily, for both of them, their adventure was bombarded and squashed.
Ginny's and Hermione's present adventure into sleepy-land was squashed by a muffled banging coming from the other side of their door.
Swiftly getting up, Hermione gargled out something that sounded like "hold on" and pulled the door open.
Mr. Weasley stood there looking timid and nauseas. "Morning Hermione, is Ginny awake?"
"I am now, Dad," Ginny called from under her covers.
"Oh good," Mr. Weasley mumbled. "Hermione, would it be all right if I had a private word with my daughter."
"Of course," Hermione chirped. She quickly grabbed fresh clothes, threw Ginny a nervous glance and fled the room.
Ginny sat up and leaned her back against the wall. She rubbed and blinked the blurry remains of sleep from her eyes. "Is everything ok, Dad?"
Mr. Weasley sat primly on the edge of Ginny's bed. He straightened his tie, smoothing it over the slight hump of his stomach.
Ginny shifted so that she was laying flat on her back, with her heels propped up against the wall. The crown of her head was dangerously close to toppling off the edge of her bed. She cleared her throat, making a show of appearing extremely impatient.
"Ginny," Mr. Weasley said, sounding like a doctor who had the worst possible news to deliver. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." I mean annoyed, hungry, and about ready to pop if I don't go pee in the next seven minutes.
"Good, good," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Um, good; are, are you having fun here?"
"I suppose," Ginny shrugged, crossing her left leg over her right.
"Good, good," Mr. Weasley sighed, again. Ginny knew the easy questions were over. She closed her eyes.
"Ginny, how is, uh, is Sirius treating you, um, well?"
Good thing Ginny had closed her eyes because they rolled up into the back of her head, and she would have hated for her father to panic and think she fainted. "Sirius is being very nice to me," Ginny said, mentally giggling as her father's face turned slightly grayish-purple in color.
"Has he, do you, how do you feel about him?" A bead of sweat traveled from Mr. Weasley's temple down towards the edge of his mouth.
Ginny bit her lip. "He's" –gorgeous, handsome, sweet, cute; pick an adjective- "funny."
"Funny?"
Smiling so wide that her eye sockets became two small slits, Ginny nodded enthusiastically.
"Is that all? Because you can tell me anything, Ginny."
"There's really nothing else to tell, Dad." Ginny yawned.
"Did Sirius make you clean his room?"
"No, I did it because I wanted to do something nice for him; since he's letting us stay in his house."
"That was nice of you," –a familiar voice in the form of a "ahem" was heard- "I mean, Ginny, you shouldn't be hanging around Sirius Black."
Ginny squinted her eyes at the wall by her door, and for a moment pondered asking Mad-Eye Moody how she could get her hands on one of those crazy eyes. "I like him," she said defiantly.
"Aha!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, jumping up from the bed, causing Ginny to almost be bounced right onto the floor. "You mean that you fancy him."
There was a squeaky mumble from the hallway.
"Almost Dad; you almost got it," Ginny said, moving into a kneeling position on her bed, and hiding her mischievous smile behind a veil of hair. "It's much more complicated than that."
Mr. Weasley seemed to deflate, and hid his shaky hands behind his back. "Care to elaborate?"
"Well, you see, Sirius has confided to me that he needs a young, lively girl to marry him and bear him a son that will carry on the Black Family legacy. I told him that there would be nothing more I would rather do in this entire world, than have his child."
Mr. Weasley's mouth dropped and snapped shut just as quickly. "Sirius hates his family," he retorted.
"Yes, and that is why we'll, of course, raise our son to accept all people; from muggle borns to werewolves."
"Ginny Weasley….you're lying," Mr. Weasley shouted.
Ginny stealthily balled her blanket up, while her father glanced nervously towards her bedroom door. A puffy hand was crawling along the door frame.
"Afraid it's all true, Father," Ginny grunted, getting off her bed. She stuck her now large and protruding stomach out, and waddled across the room.
A scream and a large thump shook the house. The scrunched up blanket slipped from out of Ginny's shirt, as she buckled over with laughter.
"Mum?" Ron's voice came from the hallway. "What happened to Mum?" he asked, peeking into Ginny's room.
"Your sister tried to kill her," Mr. Weasley murmured. "Come on, Molly. Ginny was just kidding."
"Who is she?" Mrs. Weasley stammered, as she was helped off the floor. "I don't even know who she is!"
"What did you do?" Ron asked, walking into Ginny's bedroom and closing their shrieking mother out in the hall. He flopped recklessly onto Hermione's bed.
"Nothing," Ginny brushed him off. "Dad was questioning me about-"
"Sirius?"
Ginny nodded as she attempted to pick her blanket up off the floor with her toes.
"I don't know why their questioning you; I mean, it's completely obvious what's going on."
"What's going on?" Ginny asked casually. She lifted the tip of the blanket up an inch from the floor, before it slipped out of her toes and fell.
"Hermione and Sirius….are together."
The tip of the blanket was almost in her hands, she was almost able to add 'lifts things with only the use of her toes' to her list of talents, but instead Ronald had to utter such mind-boggling, infuriating words.
"What!?" Ginny shrilled.
Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Ginny, you don't have to pretend you don't know with me. I've figured it all out."
The room began to spin; or at least, to Ginny, it felt like it was. "How, exactly, did you figure this out?"
"Well," Ron started, clearing his throat. "Hermione refused to answer any of my questions, at dinner, about…me….and Sirius. She kept ignoring me, and blushing; and her eyes kept wandering over to him and he kept smiling at her. It's an obvious conclusion…they're a secret couple." Ron shuttered and took a deep breath, his clenched fists straightening out for only a moment.
"Her life is over," Ginny whispered murderously. "How could she do this?"
"Oh, Ginny," Ron said, standing up and draping his arm over the vibrating shoulders of his sister who was too close to having steam shoot from her ears. "Don't be mad at Hermione because of me. I'm fine with it. Fine! Just fine. Great, in fact! Perfect! Wonderful! Doesn't bother me at all. Nope, not me! I feel fine about it! Perfect, just perfect. Great, in fact!"
"You're repeating yourself," Ginny screamed. "Get out! I need to think."
"I'm bored, though. Can't I stay?"
"OUT!"
Ron tripped towards the door, shooting a worried glance back at Ginny, before he was gone.
Ginny didn't know why she believed Ron. She didn't even care if he or anyone else became convinced that she has gone clinically insane. For the first time since her arrival at number 12 Grimmauld Place, Ginny had something real to do besides chores, listening in on Order meetings, or flirting with Sirius: "Plotting the demise of Hermione Granger!"
