Author's Note: Gods, don't all you teens out there just hate high school? My first week back from Christmas break, and I just want to sleep, watch Eddie Izzard, Monty Python, and write. And I can! A-B honor roll, thank you so much. Although if it hadn't been for my effing Geometry class (B), I would have had all A's, and could write all day long. Alas. But, here it is...Chapter 19! YAYNESS! Thanks to SAKBL for your astute catch on my fudging of what type of owl Draco has. Unfortunately, I am far too much of a lazy-arse to change it...and I don't know how. But, yes, it should be an eagle owl, not a barn owl...or whatever I put on there. Um...let's just say that Draco's owl had a bad encounter with a...fighter jet. Yes, because there are many of those flying around Hogwarts...Not... Anyways...here it is, read and enjoy. THANKS FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS! THANK YOU THANKYOU THANK YOU! Adieu.
Disclaimer: Not mine unless it is, if not, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Dancing Life
Chapter 19: Hell's Better When You Have Someone by Your Side
It was floating around the castle within the first day that school let in from the holidays.
"Ginny Weasley's dating who?"
Everyone was talking about it; from confused first years to stunned seventh years of all houses. The word of Ginny Weasley; sweet, innocent Gryffindor good-girl Ginny Weasley's Howler from her irate parents, and how she was still seeing Draco Malfoy, undisputed Evil Boy of Hogwarts.
"How is it possible?" They asked when it was confirmed by the couple's brief hugs and kisses in the hallways between classes where they met.
"Why doesn't her brother do something about it?" They questioned each other, seeing Ginny pressing her lips firmly on Draco's leaving him breathless, time and time again, as if it never grew old.
"Why is she dating him?" They asked, many noticing for the first time that Ginny Weasley had grown up and was not altogether bad looking. In fact, she was remarkably striking.
No matter how many questions they asked; directly or behind their hands in whispers, Ginny and Draco didn't seem to care. They went about it as if they were the only ones in school. Well, perhaps not the only ones. It seemed that the little dark witch who was always hanging around Ginny was going with Blaise Zabini, Slytherin seventh year.
Many, many people were shocked, and the two couples causing the sensation just didn't give a damn.
"Ginny, is it true? What they're saying in the halls? You're dating Malfoy?"
"Ginny, you can't be dating Malfoy, he's a Slytherin, and a DeathEater's son, and…well, he's a Malfoy!"
"Ginny, why him? There are other guys in this school who like you and are way nicer than Malfoy. Why not go out with one of them?"
Ginny finally snapped at this one, and turned from her breakfast on Wednesday morning to face Lavendar Brown, whose question had finally put her over the edge. "First of all, Lavendar, I don't want a guy who likes me when I have one that loves me, Slytherin or not. Second of all, no one treats me as well as Draco does, and I'm not going to do anything to change that. Now I'd appreciate it if everyone would just leave us be? We're not breaking any rules, we're not doing anything we shouldn't…hell all we do is kiss and hold and talk, is that too much? I seem to recall you and a certain boy doing a lot more than that the other day. Why should I be any different just because I'm dating a Malfoy? Get over his name; he has, I have, now the rest of you get lives and leave us to ours!" She stood suddenly, slamming shut her Charms book and storming out of the Great Hall.
Lavendar's jaw had dropped and Pavarti Patil looked scandalized. Hermione, who was sitting next to them just clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Well, if you ask me, you deserved it. Honestly, just leave the poor girl alone." Ignoring the scathing looks the two Gryffindor girls were giving her, Hermione stood and walked over to where Ron and Harry were sitting.
Meanwhile, Ginny was furious, and throwing one hell of a fit. An unfortunate third year Slytherin made the mistake of asking her in an amazed voice if she was really Draco Malfoy's girlfriend. Watching the younger boy scamper off in panic, trying to dodge her curses, Ginny frowned, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. What a day…
It didn't get any better, either. In her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, several of her classmates shot her strange looks; they were talking about the Unforgivable Curses, and their uses. DeathEaters came up a lot in that lesson, and by the end of it, Ginny's cheeks were burning from the humiliation of being stared at all class, and anger for the same reason.
On her way to her next class, she overheard three sets of students from all four houses, two teachers, and several pictures talking about her relationship with Draco.
The last straw was on her way to her Potions class. Walking down the hallways, she couldn't help but overhear the group's conversation in front of her, especially when her name popped up.
"I just can't believe Malfoy would stoop so low as to date a Gryffindor! Who would have thought. And a Weasley, no less."
"I know, I thought the Malfoys hated the Weasleys, but there they are."
"Wonder what Weasley's doing to keep Malfoy's interest?" The Ravenclaw girl giggled with her friends, oblivious to the seething red-head behind her.
"Certainly something I don't want to know about!"
Ginny had had quite enough. She strode forward faster until she swerved in front of them, halting their process. Some people stopped in the halls to stare. Ginny Weasley looked nothing short of breath-taking right then.
Her hair was ruffled, almost crackling with the rampant electricity that coursed through her veins and flashed through her eyes. They had gone a strange amber color; sharp and piercing, but captivating nonetheless. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her lips pale and full, quivering with suppressed anger that was burning from her very center. Ginny couldn't ever remember feeling so angry or alive in her life.
She took one step forward, and it seemed everyone else took a step back. Yeah, she was gorgeous, but it was a predatory beauty; like a giant tiger is magnificently noble or a snake powerful and majestic, definitely no one wanted to be within striking distance of this girl right now, many remembering what they'd heard about what happened to Pansy Parkinson.
Ginny turned her eyes to the three girls who were caught, paralytic, in her wrath. Her eyes were sparking and flashing dangerously, like lightning bolts; pretty, but deadly. The three fifth and sixth year girls cowered under her glare and one actually began whimpering. Ginny had never been tall, like Ron, but now she seemed like a wall of strength and fury, towering over the three pitiful girls. "I am going to say this once, and only once." She spoke, her voice soft and calm, yet at the same time cutting and sharp. If she hadn't had the attention of everyone in the halls, she did now. "What goes on between me and Draco, or whoever I date, for that matter, remains between me and that person. It is no business of yours why we are together, and I feel no duty to tell you. If I have to listen to one more person going in about this, I promise, there will be hell to pay. Pass this along to your friends, because I will not be having this ridiculous conversation again. I am not a Weasley. He is not a Malfoy. I am not a Gryffindor. He is not a Slytherin. He are not enemies. We are in love, and that is all anyone needs to know. That is all we need to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to." Changing and smiling sunnily abruptly, she chucked her chin at them.
"I think that's all, so 'ta' for now." She said sweetly, and flounced down the hall to the amazed or amused stares of half the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor houses, with a few Hufflepuffs and Slytherins thrown in for good measure.
Of those Slytherins, two sets of eyes followed her all the way down the hall until she disappeared into her Potions classroom and they had to move so they wouldn't be late for class. The silver gaze lasted longer than the deep blue one, and stared after the flaming girl with an intense and deep expression.
Draco's week had been going in the same downward spiral as Ginny's had been, though to a lesser extent. He had a few of his classmates and a handful of Ravenclaws ask him about him and Ginny Weasley, the good-girl of Gryffindor.
"Hey, uh Malfoy? Are you seriously going out with that Weasley girl? Why? Is it a bet, or a joke?" He'd been asked, to which he had growled menacingly, scaring off the sixth year Slytherin who was always kissing up to him.
"Malfoy, you bedded the Weasley girl? That is so wrong on so many levels! Way to go mate, her brother's going to explode!" Stupid effing Ravenclaw. He hadn't said much else after Draco's fist connected with his stomach rather painfully.
"What's the plan with the Weasley girl? Date her, screw her, dump her? Excellent! But seriously, a Weasley? Didn't know you were so desperate, mate…" it was this statement, about the tenth or so like it that shoved Draco rather unceremoniously off the brink of control.
He'd grabbed the front of the robes of the kid who'd said it, breathing hard and lifting the kid off his feet. Okay, so he wasn't really a kid so much as a sixth year, but that wasn't really important.
Draco growled deeply in the back of his throat. "Listen, you filthy little piece of shit. The only plans I have for Weasley are quite frankly none of your concern. I'm not planning to cut and run, if that's what you're thinking. And I'm not desperate. I'm fucking lucky. Ginevra Weasley is the most incredible girl you'll ever have the privilege to look at. And guess what?" He grinned meanly. "She's mine. Now sod off." He said, letting down the boy and shoving him away.
He'd thought his outburst (done in the seclusion of the Slytherin common room on Tuesday evening) was bad. And then he'd seen Ginny's display on Wednesday, and his feeling for her grew, if possible, even stronger. He had never seen such devotion, let alone been on the receiving end of it.
Ginny was grumbling as she left her Potions classroom for lunch. Her encounter with the flitting twits of Ravenclaw had left her feeling passionately and grudgingly angry. Needless to say, Potions with Snape had not gone too well.
However, considering who she was and what she'd done, she supposed he was actually being if not lenient, at least fair. After that whole Parkinson ordeal, he had, unbelievable though it was, grown rather fond of Ginny. At least he didn't try to take fifty points from Gryffindor for 'having a disgustingly cheerful smile' anymore.
In class, though, she had been fuming visibly. Those around her had the good sense not to say anything, but Snape, in his usual display of dim-witted behavior, soon approached Ginny's table where she, Colin, and a girl named Felica Mayers were working on The Abhorrence Draught, a potion that created animosity in the person who drank it.
Ginny was currently pounding the hell out of a bicorn horn, turning it into a very fine powder. She was attacking the magical ingredient with such ferocity that she didn't hear the Potions master sidling up to her table.
A not-so-discreet couch from Colin brought her head up. "What?" she snapped irritably, sorry to be taking things out on Colin. Colin said nothing but arched an eyebrow, which seemed to be pointing to something behind her…
She turned around. Snape was standing there, looking neutral and calm as always. "Miss Weasley, though you are certainly doing a thorough job on crushing that bicorn horn, I suggest you reduce the effort you're putting into it; by the time you're finished, there won't be anything left to add to your potion.
To his supreme surprise (he'd expected her to nod and consent) she glared up at him as if she'd been administered some of The Abhorrence Draught already.
"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley, and it will be more unless you wipe that insolent look off your face this instant." He growled. She complied, though she still looked peeved.
Snape noticed at that moment (along with how very un-professional and un-Snape it was of his to be thinking about it) just how strong of a character Ginevra Weasley was. Something had changed. She was no longer the little scrawny kid sister of Ron Weasley. She was a young woman with a rebellious backbone in her.
Snape had to fight back a smile, something he rarely had to do.
My, my, weren't things getting interesting? He strode away, going to his desk.
Ginny had a couple more exchanges with Snape before class let out, adding up to fifteen points from Gryffindor. By the time class let out, Ginny was frantic to get away from the Potions teacher. Unfortunately, Colin and Felica had left her to do the cleaning up.
Sighing, Ginny began placing things in their proper places. Glancing around, she noticed that Snape was nowhere to be seen; probably he'd already left for lunch. Ginny was still grumbling and muttering curses to herself when the door to the Potions classroom opened.
Draco had hurried out of his History of Magic classes to meet Ginny as she left her Potions class. He waited for a while in the hallway before becoming impatient and striding into the classroom. Ginny was still there, placing a jar of beetle eyes on top of a counter along with several others. She glanced up, her face a scowl.
The second she saw who it was, however, the scowl broke into the softest smile. In seconds flat (honestly, Draco had no idea how the girl moved so fast) she was on him, her arms around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder.
His hands came up automatically to grip her shoulder blades, rubbing her back soothingly. "Hard day?" he questioned. Ginny's strangled laugh confirmed his thoughts. "That's putting it mildly." She joked, pulling back for a second to look up into his grey-blue eyes.
"Lucky you're worth it." She grinned, and pulled his mouth to hers. Draco shuddered, his hands coming up to touch her, hold her without his knowledge. No matter how many times they did it, her kisses would always make him weak and wanting more.
Ginny smiled as his tongue poked between her lips. He always did that, and it always made her smile. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands moved down her spine to her hips, then down lower.
Ginny inhaled sharply and Draco pulled away, removing his hands. "Sorry, I can't help it." He really did sound sorry, too. Ginny smiled at him, and Draco had to fight to keep his hands clenched at his sides.
"It's alright. Actually…" she blushed a brilliant shade of red "…I don't mind so much." She was surprised to hear herself say it, perhaps even more so than Draco. After the whole episode with Dean, she had never really liked anyone touching her. But when Draco touched her, she forgot about Dean and everyone else but him.
He touched her softly and gently, as if she was something delicate and precious. She felt loved, and it made her feel incredibly happy. Draco groaned and pulled her into a kiss again, this time letting his hands skim all over her body. Ginny was practically delirious when he finally pulled away, breathing somewhat unnaturally.
"Damnit, Ginny, you're going to drive me insane!" he breathed, staring down at the stunning girl in his arms who was apparently affected as much by him as he was by her. She grinned, and Draco bit his lip to keep from pouncing on her.
"Don't try to blame me for your mentality or lack of." Ginny grinned, repeating what Heather had told him over the holidays. Draco grinned and pulled her into another searing kiss. After a few heated moments, he pulled away again. "Damn, I keep getting distracted…" Ginny ran her tongue over her numb lips and he was nearly distracted again. "…I wanted to say how flattering your devotion is." He said, his voice light and teasing, though his words and their meaning was deep.
Ginny tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"
Draco nodded towards the door. "That scene out in the hallway. Bloody brilliant." He breathed, grinning maniacally as Ginny blushed. "You saw that?" she flamed again and Draco laughed. "Yeah, and I must say I didn't like it one bit." His words were angry, but he seemed...practically chipper. Odd.
She voiced her opinions. Draco grinned at her and led her over to a stool by her table. He sat down on the one next to hers and stared at her long and hard. Ginny felt her cheeks warming under his intense gaze.
"No, it's not odd. Out there in the hallway, when you got onto those three girls…" he searched for the right words "…you were the most astounding thing I'd ever seen. Everyone was looking at you: the girls with envy, and the guys with want… and you're mine." He grinned again; they seemed to be like hiccups: spontaneous and impossible to stop once they got started.
"I already told you once; I'm the luckiest man alive." He whispered before covering her mouth in a soft, seeking kiss.
Snape was not feeling like he was the luckiest man alive…on the contrary, he felt like he was going to be the sickest man alive as he turned away from where his prize pupil and pet Slytherin was snogging the hell out of Ginevra Weasley in his classroom.
Urrggghhhhh. He thought, shuddering in disgust. This was interesting…very interesting. Revolting…but interesting all the same. He turned back to his special stores and busied himself with work; from the looks of it, he would be here for a while.
"Blaise! Blaise, wait up! Hey Blaise! Not you, is your name Blaise? No, okay so move. Blaise!"
Blaise turned around, grinning as Heather slipped through the group of people hovering around the doors to the Great Hall. They were all reading a notice about the dance coming up the weekend after this one, on Saturday night. The students in the Dancing Life class would meet after classes on Fridays and at the usual times on Saturday and Sunday to go over the dances they were to perform.
Neither Blaise and Heather nor Draco and Ginny had come up with a dance to do, and they were running out of time.
Heather rushed up to Blaise, waving a book at him, her cheeks flushed. "I think I found something!" she breathed, shaking the book at him. Blaise plucked the volume from her grasp and glanced at the cover (101 Mystic Dances from the Dark Ages) before flipping to the page she'd marked.
He read a bit before glancing up at her, one dark eyebrow raised. "You want to do this?" he asked, putting the book under her nose. Heather nodded. Blaise glanced back at the page she had marked for a dance.
It looked…interesting, that was certain. From the moving illustration on the opposite page, it looked like a Celtic dance, but between just two people. He studied it for a while, then grinned up at Heather, whose expecting and unsure gaze wavered and turned to a matching smile.
"Looks good." Blaise commented, handing the book back to Heather. "We have to make costumes, though. Right?" Heather slipped the book into her shoulder bag and nodded. "Simple enough. We can just use the Book." She said, bringing the Book of Shadows and waving it at him before sliding it back into her bag.
Blaise nodded. Now all they had to do was to learn the dance. It looked simple enough, and they had hours and hours of practicing time. "What's it called?"
Heather cocked an eyebrow. "Wha- oh, the dance. Um…oh what was it? It was something weird, like…spin…twirl…no…oh, Gyrating Darkness." She concluded, snapping her fingers. "That's it." She confirmed.
Blaise stared at her, trying to bite back a grin. "Gyrating Darkness?" he snickered, losing his control. Heather rolled her eyes, narrowing them at him. "Yeah…or would you rather we did the Twirling Swan?" she quipped. Blaise shook his head hastily. "No, no, Gyrating Darkness is just perfect." He waved his hands. Heather grinned and linked her arm with Blaise's. "Well, I suppose this is where I leave you…you know, lunch and all." She shrugged and reached up on her toes, placing a quick kiss on his lips.
Several girls behind them stopped talking, and Heather couldn't hold back a smile; it was so ridiculous how people overreacted to the most inconsequential things. Honestly, her relationship with Blaise had nothing to do with them.
Sighing, Heather leaned back. "I'll see you after last class today? Library?" Heather asked, shuffling half-heartedly towards the Great Hall door. Blaise nodded, and watched ruefully as the tiny witch walked off, dignified and head held high, completely ignoring the heavy silence that followed her through the door.
As soon as the Great Hall door closed behind Heather, conversation started up again, people speaking in hushed tones, though not too hushed, as Blaise could make out practically every word that passed by him.
"-can't believe it, did you see her? Kissing him right in the middle of the hall?"
"-she's too young for him. He's got to be at least two years older than her."
"-I heard she's sleeping with him…why else would he be with her? He could have almost any girl he wanted, and he chooses her? Not unless there's something going on between them."
"-it's horrible. Poor girl…and I always thought she was so pure…she's always on about ethics and what's right and wrong…well, who knows?"
"-yeah, you never can tell…"
Blaise (who up until this point had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed and getting steadily more furious by the second) burst with anger, much as Ginny had.
"THAT"S ENOUGH!" He thundered, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway. His cheeks and ears were red, and his eyes were black and dark, slicing through everyone he glared at. "I'm standing right here…you could at least pretend to talk about something else. It's quite honestly no business of yours. If you have a problem with it, either deal with it, ignore us, or talk to us. But do not talk about us behind our backs." He growled threateningly before whirling around to stalk off to Slytherin tower.
"Ginny!? Ginny, Quidditch practice is in five minutes, and you'd better be ready, because I am not dragging your sorry, half-dressed arse out onto the Quidditch pitch!" Harry yelled up the girl's staircase, glancing every few seconds at his watch.
Ginny popped her head out her door. "Harry, I'm effing dressed already! If you need someone to rant at, go find Ron, don't do it to me just because I'm his little sister! Oh, and just because you're my surrogate brother while Ron and Hermione are off in Potions doesn't mean you can order me around like Ron does." Ginny laughed.
"Like Ron tries to do." Harry corrected, bringing more laughter from Ginny. She'd forgotten how much fun Harry could be.
"That's not the point. The point is you are not to go bossing me around because you're older and Ron's best friend and-"
"Quidditch captain?" Harry supplied, smirking.
Ginny stuck out her tongue childishly at Harry. "And certainly not because you're Quidditch captain." Ginny said, grinning as Harry pretended to look affronted.
"Well excuse me Miss Weasley." He huffed, and whirled around, flouncing quite hysterically out of the common room in his Quidditch gear, oblivious to the looks his prancing walk was earning him from the other students in Gryffindor common room, who were seriously questioning his sexual preferences.
Ginny laughed and ducked back into her room to grab her broom.
"Christ, Harry!" Ginny groaned some two hours later. Harry (as captain) had made this particular practice excruciatingly long and quite the work-out. The entire Gryffindor team was rubbing their sore backsides as Harry lead them into the locker room. Ginny sat gingerly, resting her head back on the wall.
Everyone else looked equally tired and worn-out. Harry, however disheveled he may have appeared otherwise, was glowing with pride. "Excellent practice today, team. Looks like we'll be ready for Slytherin this weekend." He beamed.
Ron (who had hurried onto the pitch ten minutes late looking rather ruffled) scoffed. "Not if I can't block those curved throws." He growled. He'd had quite a bit of difficulty with that, but he was actually turning out to be quite the keeper, though certainly no replacement for Oliver Wood.
Harry turned to grin at his best mate. "Don't worry, Ron. You'll do fine. Better than that cow Parkinson will do. Malfoy has got to be insane for choosing her as keeper this year, even if their old one did graduate." He shook his head.
Dean laughed. "Not like I'd want to know what she had to do to get on the team." He pulled a face and laughed again. Everyone else laughed except for Ron and Ginny (neither had ever told Harry about her incident with Dean).
"Wouldn't you?" Ginny spat icily, standing and surprising everyone but her brother. Dean bit his lip and looked away. Ginny scowled and stormed off. She needed a cold shower, and Harry's little team talk didn't even touch at her conscience.
Harry watched his best Chaser stalk out of the locker room, banging the door shut and turned to Dean. "What was that all about?" He asked, green eyes large behind his glasses. "I know Ginny and Malfoy are going out and all, but that was a bit of an over-reaction. Dean was just joking, right, mate?" He questioned the dark boy, who simply shrugged.
Ron hissed in disbelief and anger, directed at Dean. Harry caught the look, but let it go. It was not worth getting his team broken up. But later, Ron would do some serious explaining. Ginny as well.
"Right, great practice team." He said achingly and with a few more words ushered his team back to the Gryffindor common room. He stayed behind after everyone else had gone off to put the balls away.
As he was about to open to door to leave, he heard (or rather, felt) a thud against the wall, coming from the other side. Inching the door open, he peeked out. Just to his right in his line of vision, was Ron, holding someone up against the wall, looking more murderous than Harry had ever seen him.
"Leave her alone." Harry heard in a voice that had to be Ron's, but was so menacing and dangerous. "You don't mess with her, you don't tease her, you don't talk about her, or even Malfoy while she's with him, and you certainly don't talk to her. You were my mate, Dean. But I won't hesitate to rip your head off if you hurt her again."
Releasing the other boy's robes, the fuming red-head strode off, much like his sister had a few minutes earlier. Shaking his head as Dean left, Harry exited the locker room. Serious explanations.
"Oh dear gods." Harry sat back in his seat, leaning heavily back into the soft armchair. His head was reeling and he felt faintly dizzy, as nothing would stay completely still in his line of vision, no matter how much he chased it with his eyes. He pulled off his glasses and closed his eyes, rubbing them gently as Ron also sat back, looking weary. Ginny was standing off to the side, hugging herself and trying to stop crying. Hermione was standing next to the younger and more distressed red-head, rubbing her back absent-mindedly, her moist brown eyes large and round.
"Why didn't either of you tell us?" Harry asked finally, sitting back up and replacing his glasses to stare at the brother and sister, who exchanged a glance. Ginny was the one to speak. "I didn't even know that Ron knew…I thought Heather was the only one who knew. If it hadn't been for her seeing it with her own eyes, I probably never would have told her. I didn't want anyone to know…I was just scared and I thought that perhaps I had done something wrong, and that was why he…" She trailed off, tears blurring her vision again. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
Ron picked up where she stopped. "Heather told me because she was afraid that Dean might try something else. I didn't want to tell you or Hermione because…well, it was Ginny's business. I didn't want to interfere." Ginny shot him a look that was half disbelieving scorn, half grateful thanks.
Harry nodded, as if in understanding, though he still understood very little. He and Dean weren't the best of friends, but he had always thought the guy had been an O.K. man. Then again, he'd never thought he'd see the day that Malfoy was not only civil to, but in love with a Gryffindor. And Malfoy was most obviously head over heels for Ginny, though Harry didn't think she knew exactly just how much the pale boy did care for her.
But still…Dean? If Harry thought about it hard, he guessed he could see it. Dean had a very short temper and was prone to fistfights and scuffles and skirmishes of all sorts with anyone. Sometimes he just lost his head, and with it, his control. And he'd always had a thing about girls. Too possessive and overbearing, Harry thought.
Sighing, the dark-haired boy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He was still in his Quidditch getup; the second he'd gotten into Gryffindor tower he'd sought out both Ginny and Ron (who had been talking to Hermione, and therefore the older bushy-haired witch had come along to their little 'meeting') and pulled the story from both of them.
Now he was beginning to wish he hadn't. He spared a glance at Ginny, who was taking advantage of Hermione's support and resting her head wearily on the Head Girl's shoulder.
Ginny was rather peeved at Harry for dragging the ordeal she'd managed to put behind her out in the open again. But she was also mildly appreciative that he had, and that he and Hermione were there to talk to her. The only person who Ginny had known to be aware of her predicament was Heather, and Ginny never spoke of it, though Heather had tried several times to integrate it into a normal conversation.
Ginny was a little apprehensive that Hermione, being Head Girl and all, might want to tell the teachers about it, but so far, the normally do-gooding witch was keeping silent, and holding her tongue, for which Ginny was inexplicably grateful.
Ginny exhaled suddenly and loudly, drawing the attention of the other three. "This has been impossibly exhausting. I'm going to go take a shower and go to bed…" She trailed off, remembering those words to be similar to the ones she'd spoken to Dean right before…
Shaking her head softly, she hugged Hermione briefly and tightly. Ron and Harry stood. Ginny smiled tiredly, giving Ron a large bear hug. Her brother hugged her back tightly, which surprised her somewhat. Finally disentangling herself from her brother, she turned to Harry, who looked down ashamedly. Ginny grinned and wrapped her arms around him in a hug that can only be described as friendly, though from the stop in conversation in the rest of the common room, it was apparently seen as a tad more than 'friendly'.
Ginny didn't care; it felt so good to hug Harry as she would her brother that nothing and no one else mattered. Saying her goodnights, she went off to bed. There was still one hell of a long week to finish.