Disclaimer: If I had three wishes I would wish for… a new laptop, (one I didn't have to share with my mother) an interesting life, and the rights to Harry Potter but as I do not have three wishes I must settle for being a laptop less bored teenager with an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter.
Step 3:- cook him breakfast/lunch/dinner.
What is the way to a mans heart? We're not sure of the direct route but what we do know is that there's a detour threw the kitchen. Men love a domestic goddess so hit the kitchen, cook something fancy, but don't use your wand because that won't impress.
Purr-lease! We aren't talking about my brothers here. A soufflé won't make Harry ask me out. In fact it would probably be quite the opposite…
Eggs… are frying. Check. Bacon… is sizzling. Check. Sausages… are grilling. Check. Freshly squeezed orange juice is… freshly squeezed. Check. And beans… are boiling.
Boiling? Boiling! Beans aren't supposed to boil! Rushing over I begin to stir the beans stiffly. Hoping beans are supposed to have a thick crusty sauce. Sighing I wish more than ever I hadn't decided to do this. I wish I had my mummy. Oh that's so grown up wanting your mummy. I scowl at myself; still stirring the beans like cement in a cement mixer. Though it would be good to have her to help with the beans. Ask in desperation and you will receive. My mum enters the room, bleary eyed. I can say honestly that I have never seen my mum remotely tired. Maybe that is why I'm standing here gawping at her.
"Ginny, what are you doing?" It was an accusation more than a question.
"I'm cooking breakfast." I say gesturing vaguely to the charred beans in my hand.
"Are you sure?" her eyes travel over the mass of pans and plates behind me and the bowl of batter (I had been cooking pancakes) spread over her normally neat scrubbed floor.
"Yes! I just ran into some… difficulty with the err… beans."
"Oh there fine, just chuck some water on them." She takes out her wand and magic's the batter away. Then she goes off to inspect the rest of the damage. Water… how much? I look down at the solid clump of beans in my hands. One cup or two? Hmm, I guess you can never have too much water. I successively fill two cups of water and drown the beans.
"The eggs are done Ginny."
"Okay mum," I walk over to her and take them off the heat.
"You should probably keep them on a shelf in the oven to keep them warm, low heat though." I nod, noting how quickly my mum's idea of helping turns into plain patronization.
"Well Ginny I think you've got it all under control. So I'm going back upstairs to get dressed. I suppose they'll be down soon anyway." By "they" she meant my three youngest brothers, Harry and Hermione. But I was only worried about Harry. My mum went to leave, but turned back at the last minuet.
"Oh and dear, don't get me wrong if I'm not rooting for Harry to fall in love with you over breakfast, it's just I could get used to not having to cook in the mornings." I gawp at her.
"What… no… what are you… how did you know?" I say slightly defeat. She gave me a pitying smile and left.
I stare at the door. Am I really that obvious?
Do you really want an answer? I hate subconsciouses.
The smell of bacon hits my nose. Bacon… Bacon? Damn my short attention span! Was I hungry? Breakfast! Oh yeah the breakfast I was cooking to make Harry fall in love with me. Turning the knob half-heartedly and poring the fat into a cup (I'll explain later) I sigh over Harry's gorgeous green eyes. I've been lost in those eyes so many times I've lost count. In fact I'm not even sure when my crush ended and my love began… WAIT I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH HARRY! I'll go back to my cooking.
As I look furiously around the kitchen I ponder whether there's enough for everyone. Let's see… eggs, beans, sausages, freshly squeezed orange, bacon, and… pancakes. I look to the ceiling and sure enough there just above my mothers scrubbed table there is a pancake, half pealing off already. I turn my back on it, remembering with a grimace the events that had taken place about ten minuets ago.
Okay so there browning nicely. I'll just flip it and we should be okay. I could flip it with the spatula but that would make it look less impressive. My mum always makes these golden brown pancakes so broken pancakes definitely wouldn't impress Harry.
So I readied myself. Took a good stance and flipped. I almost closed my eyes. Awaiting the pancakes return to earth I was confused by it's absence. Putting the pan on the side I peared to the ceiling and the floor but to no avail. And then I looked back in the pan. There it was, flipped over and sticky. I picked it up cursing myself for being so stupid. It only needed a bit more oomph that was all.
One, two, three I flipped again using all my force I watched the pancake do a double flip superbly in the air. As it came down I positioned myself below it…
Splat! It was like having a bowl of custard over my head. I can tell you that after just last week having Fred and George test their custard grenade on me. It was blinding, spread over my eyes and hair. I pealed it off feeling remotely like I've been spending my time in a slapstick comedy. I put another pancake on the stove; sighing. When that's ready I poke around the edges loosening it up.
I learn from my mistakes.
So again I go to flip using all my strength sending myself backwards and knocking over the batter. This time it comes clean out of the pan and flies across the room and hits the ceiling with yet another splat.
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I looked up at the ceiling for the millionth time that morning, the pancake looked down at me. I sighed nothing would make that budge. Thinking I deserved a glass of orange juice after such an ordeal I brought the glass to my lips inhaling half the glass. It taste sweet against my lips, raising the glass intending to down the rest of it I instead smell something fowl. It smells horrible… like toast, but I didn't put any toast in, did I?
My eyes drift over to the beans that are currently floating in water. Oh yeah, the toast was to go with the beans. Of course. I curse myself over and over again. I look over at the grill. A black cloud of smoke greets me. I sigh in a defeated kind of way.
Disposing of the burnt toast I put some more in, this time setting the egg timer. I open the window and slump against the counter; is a guy really worth all of this? Is Harry? I ponder it all, whilst drinking some more of my orange juice. I look to the cooker, blinking.
It's beset with Fire. The pan I had the bacon in is on FIRE! Oh sweet Merlin what am I going to do? Chip pan fire… Chip pan fire? Wet flannel! I run to the cupboards. Flannel. Flannel. Flannel. My hand brushes fabric. Flannel! I rush to the sink and drown the flannel in water. Running to the flames and double take at the heat. Inching forwards I stretch out my arms and spread the sodden flannel instantly the flames and most of the heat vanishes. It seems instead of turning the knob to off I'd turned it to full power. I blink again as gradually I peal back the flannel the lack of oxygen having killed the fire but the fire in turn leaving tiny wafers of burnt bacon. I grimace; but who really likes bacon anyway I much prefer sausa… SAUSAGES! I FORGOT THE SAUSAGES! I bend down to the grill and wipe my sweaty brow with relief. The sausages where a little burnt but other than that they where fine. I put them all on a plate. At least this was all almost over with. I consider everything that's happened this morning: the pancakes, the beans, the bacon, the sausages, and the toast, what else can go wrong?
While I had been pondering this I had reached for my old glass of orange. I brought it to my lips expecting tangy orange juice instead I retch when half congealed bacon fat hits my lips instead.
I run to the sink scraping at my tongue still gagging. I stay there for a good five minutes still gurgling water. I turn around and come face to face with… Harry.
"Err sorry I didn't… mean to… heard noises… woke me… sorry." He was evidentially trying not to look too repulsed at the fat I'd dribbled down my front. I pat at it with a dishcloth. His eyes go back to mine.
"It's okay Harry, I was making breakfast, that's all."
"Oh." His eyes travel over the charred remains of the bacon behind me.
"I was just about to dish it up do you want some?" Now he looks repulsed.
"Err sure that sounds… Yummy but don't you think the rest of your family should enjoy it as well."
'No!' I think 'I want you all to myself!'
"Err sure!" I say instead, "I err… forgot; RON, MIONE, FRED, GEORGE, MUM, DAD, BREAKFAST!" I looked over to Harry who was left hunched over with his hands over his ears after my little round up; maybe I was a little too loud.
"Sorry." Can I do nothing right? I was sparred any further embarrassment by the arrival of my brothers. In they came, bleary eyed all three of them, followed by my parents and Hermione. My mother was smiling knowingly at me and Hermione was talking to my dad about the importance of magical rights. My brothers where sniffing the air looking for breakfast.
"Where … breakfast… hungy… me." Ron yawned as the twins nodded in agreement.
"I think what Ron means Ginny is, is breakfast ready yet?" Hermione said giving Ron a filthy look.
"Nearly, just sit down." Hermione sat herself down prim and proper as if showing my brother up, my parents set themselves down as well, my dad beaming at me proudly. Then of course Ron fell into his seat next to Hermione followed by the to twits… I mean twins who guide themselves blindly to their seats across from Hermione and Ron then fall face forwards into the table and begin to snore. Finally Harry sits down next to Hermione smiling at me I smile back because his seat is conveniently placed next to mine.
"Let me just dish breakfast up for you it will only take a minute." I send Harry another sexy smile and turn my back on them all. As I drain the beans I listen to them chat:
"Mum where's breakfast." Either Fred or George has woken up then.
"Ginny's making it today." Mum says rather irritated.
"But you always make breakfast." One of them whines.
"Not today dear."
"But Ginny can't -"
"Can't what Ron!" I cut across him.
"Can't … carry all those plates! I'll help you!" even I have to admit that was a quick save. I slam a plate in front of him.
"No, no, it's fine I'll do it myself." Ron's eyes remain on his plate. I return to giving everyone his or her plates. I sit down and look to my family expectantly. They all look incredibly uncomfortable. Surely it doesn't look that bad.
"Well?" I say. I get guilty looks in return. "Okay… I understand… you don't have to eat it." A single tear running down my face.
"No! Ginny we'll eat it!" says Hermione wrestling Ron back into his seat.
"Great!" I say happily, "try some of the bacon; you like it burnt, don't you?"
"Bacon?" I point out the thin sliver of burnt bacon on her plate. "Oh yes, I didn't see it." She tries to insert her fork but fails so she lifts it with her fingers. I give her a look and she swallows it whole. She's still smiling though but her eyes have begun to water and she's going red in the cheeks.
"'Mione?" Ron asks gently, touching her arm. She goes even redder and then chokes. She disappears behind a napkin and coughs her bacon up.
"Ah come on Hermione." Fred says. "There's-"
"No-"
"Bacon-"
"Like-"
"Burnt-"
"Bacon!" The twins finish their speech by inhaling their own bits of bacon. Have I ever mentioned how much I loved my brothers?
Crack!
"Ah!" they scream in unison. "Oar 'acon 'urt our 'eef!" with that they run from the room clutching the side of their jaws. Maybe I don't love them quite so much. I look around the table everyone now has almost identical fake smiles on, except Hermione who is drinking glass after glass of water.
"Maybe we'll leave the bacon but I'm sure the rest is fine." My mum says uncomfortably. "Ron why don't you try some eggs."
"But-"
"Try some eggs Ron!" my mum growls.
"Okay." He says defeat.
"Good boy." She smiles. Ron lifts his fork; it seems to take an age for the bit of egg to reach his mouth. He closes it almost unwillingly there is a pause while we watch him play with the egg on his tongue and then… Ron sticks out his tongue and the egg rolls off not even chewed.
"Ronald Weasley!" Mum says furious in an instant, "there was nothing wrong with that egg; I personally checked them this morning! We didn't bring you up to-"
"Mum!" Ron shouted over her, "It would have been fine except for the egg being freezing cold!" My mum's mouth is still open but the colour in her cheeks is slowly draining away, she takes her seat once again and avoids my eye. Ron looks at me triumphantly. His hand brushes a glass of –
"Water! I need a glass of water!" With that he gets up and runs full speed out of the room past the sink. Hermione seems to be fighting an inner battle with her conscience and her delicate stomach.
"Yes! I… also… need… Water!" Her stomach evidently won. I watch her run from the room, defeat. But as the door slams and the room is shook I hear something above me, like Velcro coming unstuck…
Splat!
The pancake that had been stuck to the ceiling had come dislodged and my seat had just happened to be below it.
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I returned to the table with a now clean face. Of course, the plates where still almost completely full and Harry and my parents where still the only one's left at the table. My dad was talking quietly to my mother. I announce my presence by flopping myself back on my seat. Harry was avoiding my eye probably because after the pancake I had run from the room screaming.
"Darling," my dad started "these sausages look perfect." He smiled at me encouragingly and tried to puncher his sausage. He forced his fork in and cut it in half. He didn't eat it though.
"Ginny dear," my mum started slowly, "did you defrost the sausages before you cooked them?"
"No, why?" She pushed her plate away from herself.
"Never mind." She says, forcing a smile, "Oh and Ginny, did you stir the beans when you added the water?"
"No." I sigh.
"And… did you heat the eggs like I told you to?" I don't even bother to answer.
"Where did those kids go? I fancy some water as well!" my dad jumps up and drags my mother from the room. I bang my head on the table.
"It's okay Harry you can leave." I say without looking up.
"No Gin it's fine I'll eat it." He called me Gin! But he's only trying to make me feel better. But why; Because he's Harry-ridiculously-chivalrous-Potter.
"You'd eat that for me?" I say, batting my eyelashes.
"Err I guess." He seems to be regretting this already, I hand him a fork, half expecting him to turn it down, but he takes it.
I watch him shovel the plate into his mouth. I then of course also watch him turn green and then white.
"Mm that was…" he begins, after finishing with delight, though he never finishes his sentence because just then he heaves and runs from the room and into the toilet clutching his stomach and mouth. I can hear him retching from here.
And there it ends with me being serenaded by Harry's retches, and a pile of washing up.
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See it wouldn't go well. I was actually being nice to myself; in real life I'm the only person I know who can burn water. So unless turning Harry's stomach at the sight of me is part of the step I don't think that one would work.
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Step 4:- Dress down.
If being more feminine didn't work maybe you should become lower maintenance. Wear your joggers outside for a change. Guys love girls who don't hide behind make-up. So ditch the skirts and high heels and grab your jeans and trainers!
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Dress down! I'll have you know I am of the lowest maintenance Why if I dressed down anymore I'd look like Mundungus!
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Step 5:- Hint.
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