Title: You're My Bertie Botts
Summary: It's the fifth summer holiday for the trio and spending it with a troubled Ginny at The Burrow leaves Harry wondering about the littlest Red Head and Hermione about the next oldest. A light fluffy HG RH
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, otherwise I would be married with children, have blonde hair, and be pretty darn rich!
Chapter Four: I Have No Feelings For Floo
Author Notes: Words cannot describe how sorry I am for lack of updates! To try and make it up to you amazing reviewers, I am giving you a special offer of two chapters for the price of one! With many further apologies in those author notes! Please keep reviewing! It keeps me going! So sorry again!
..."Hey!" Harry said, his voice had grown louder, "at least you have a family to think about you!"
"Harry..." Ginny gasped. But before she could stop him, he leapt off the bed and yanked open the door. Ron who was leaning on it tipped backwards and fell at his feet. Growling loudly Harry stepped over him and through the hall into Fred and George's room...
The next day everyone woke up feeling very 'the-morning-after-the-night-before'. Still dressed in his clothes from the previous day, Harry rolled out of bed and collected his glasses from the bedside table. As the world came into focus, he caught his reflection in the mirror and rubbed his forehead. Part of him was still filled with a tiny hope that all of the arguments of yesterday were a dream, but the tear stains on his shirt and the smell of perfume mingled with sweat across his body reminded him that it was all very real. He let out a loud groan and fell back onto the bed, his arms flung over his face. A sharp knock at the door made him jump, maybe it was Ginny coming to sort things out between them...
"Harry? It's Hermione!" ……Or maybe not.
"C'min" Harry mumbled. The door creaked open and Hermione stepped inside.
"It was just that Mrs. Weasley says that breakfast is ready." Harry sat up to reply but Hermione had already scuttled out of the room.
After a brief wash and a quick change of clothes, Harry felt in a much better mood and wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen where Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were already eating their breakfast.
"Hello Harry," beamed the Weasley's mother, "How are you this morning? I didn't see you last night; Ron said you'd already gone to bed when we got back! Help yourself to food!" She pointed to the stacks of toast and large bowls of porridge and then turned to address everyone else at the table. "I'm afraid I have to go out to Diagon Alley to do some shopping and Arthur was called into work hours ago, but I'm sure you'll all be okay again?"
"Yeah course," Ginny said dully, her eyes never leaving her plate of toast. Mrs. Weasley said goodbye and disappeared into the fireplace with a pot of Floo powder. An awkward silence filled the room and Hermione was the first to speak up.
"Ron, please may you pass me the butter?" She glanced across at him but Ron carried on spreading jam on his toast as if he hadn't heard her. Letting out a frustrated sigh Hermione stomped round the table, grabbed the butter from Ron's place and clattered it down loudly next to her plate.
"Hey I was using that!" Ron mumbled.
"No you weren't. Stop being so selfish!" Hermione said shrilly.
"I am not being selfish! You're the one who's just trying to pretend like nothing happened yesterday!" Ron said, slightly louder.
"How does that make me selfish?" Hermione asked, rising in her chair.
"I...it...I, it just does!" Ron stood up, Harry guessed to try and intimidate her with his height to make up for his lousy comeback.
"Oh so you want me to keep bringing up the fact you called me a filthy mudblood, you want me to remember how you yelled at me, insulted me! Oh wait, yeah you wouldn't understand what it'd be like to have your feelings hurt because YOU DON'T HAVE ANY!"
Harry wouldn't have been surprise if he had seen steam pouring out of Hermione's ears at this point, he had never seen her get so worked up by someone, except possibly Draco Malfoy and she'd ended up hitting him.
"Will you quit with the whole 'feelings' and 'emotions' thing? I'm a guy, I don't have them. Why do you care so much?" Ron asked, the anger fading in his voice. Hermione stood speechless; she stammered a few beginnings of words but never finished them. Feeling that he had won the argument, oblivious to Hermione's blushes, Ron sat back down and took a bite of his toast. It was then that Harry realised how right Ginny was about those two, and he flashed her a grin to let her know. Conversation soon filled the table, Ron animatedly filled Harry in on last night's Quidditch match which he'd listened to on the radio, whilst Ginny carefully tried to get Hermione to own up to what was wrong.
A group decision was later made to go and meet Mrs. Weasley in Diagon Alley, do some shopping of their own and call in at the twin's joke shop. The quickest way would be Floo powder, Harry tried his best to convince the rest otherwise, his last Floo trip to London was not the most fun experience, but was eventually persuaded when Ginny said that she'd go the same time as him. He took it as a peace offering and thanked her as she gave him her heart stopping smile. Harry nervously watched Hermione disappear into the green flames, and then it was their turn.
Ron waved them off as they stepped into the fireplace. Ginny held the powder in one hand and grabbed Harry's jumper sleeve with the other. She uttered the words 'Diagon Alley' clearly and they were both sucked up in the flames. It was a tight squeeze for two of them and their arms knocked the walls as they travelled at a high speed. After only a few seconds Harry felt Ginny's grasp on his jumper disappear and he tried to call out for her, only choking on clouds of ash. He knew she couldn't be far and he jumped as he felt her hand suddenly grab his wrist. He pulled her back up to his side, scraping his body against the wall but he didn't care as long as she was safe. Ginny flung her other arm around his waist, even through the rush of air Harry could feel her heart beating rapidly. Ginny let out a cry as she bumped the side and Harry used his free arm to pull her shoulders closer to him, her head on his chest. Her nervous grip on his wrist relaxed, she moved her hand down Harry's palm and quickly laced her fingers between his. Smiling to himself Harry knew that it wasn't the rushing through the chimney that was giving him butterflies in his stomach.