Harry and Ron stared as Hermione calmly made her way up to the girls dormitory.
"Barking mad," said Ron, "she drives me bloody, barking mad."
"I agree," said Harry, too happy to have Ron back to argue with him.
"I'm beat, think I'll turn in," Ron said, heading toward the stairs. "You coming?"
"Erm... no. I don't think I will. I want a bit of time alone."
"Right. Well, I'll see you in the morning then."
"Right," Harry replied, dropping down into his favourite overstuffed chair.
Harry stared into the fire, watching the flames curl into thousands of shapes. Each moment they flicked and fluttered, moment to moment changing from the Chuddly Cannons professional Quidditch team to his cauldron exploding in Potions, to masses of jumbled shapes he simply couldn't make anything of. But, there was one thing about those jumbled masses he was sure of; the longer he stared at them, the more the grew to look like something very familiar. And as he concentrated, that something familiar grew to look like a face.
"Sirius," gasped Harry. He blinked in amazement, but when he turned his eyes back to the flames, the aparation had vanished.
"I knew it was too good to be real..." he sighed, leaning back in the chair once more, turning it away from the fire. Sirius... I wish you were here... He now took to looking intently into the shadows, thinking the most he would see there would be Crookshanks. He was wrong, however, because several minutes of staring produced a faint reddish glow, which Harry thought must have been caused by the strain of his eyes in the dark.
"Hullo, Harry," This voice was one he knew, but had not heard in a while. Ginny stepped into the small circle of firelight, her hair veritably glowing with the reflections of the flame.
"Hullo, Ginny," Harry answered, very stiffly indeed. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Oh, please don't. You sound just like Ron. He's so preoccupied with treating me as though he was mum, he's hardly been nice to me since we left the Burrow."
"I just can't find it in me to be plesent to you, after what you did. Why didn't you say something, instead of letting all the blame fall on me. I almost lost my two best friends over this."
"It's Ron. He's so subconsciously obsessed with filling Percy's shoes he's become totally unbearable. At least that's what I think. He goes completely mad at the smallest little things, he thinks he can be so strict with me. I was just afraid of him, of what he'd say."
"That's no excuse to ruin my life!" Harry shouted, not giving any thought at all to his housemates, sleeping in the dormitories above them.
"Harry, please... I didn't mean... you know I would never hurt you on purpose. I didn't think."
"I had just told you how I felt about Hermione... why did you pick then to ... well, kiss me?" Harry asked akwardly.
"It was my last chance. You were going to tell Hermione how you felt, and I thought I'd have a last go at telling you how I felt. I love you Harry. I've always known, since I first saw you. I didn't know you were famous Harry Potter, all I knew was that you were a skinny, awkward boy with thin arms and wild hair and perfect brilliant green eyes, and I knew I loved you. Imagine how horrible it was to think that you were famous, to think you'd been through so much trouble and heartache. I didn't want you to be famous... I just wanted you to be comforted. And I wanted to do the comforting," Ginny slumped down onto a warm red sofa, seemingly drained from her speech. Harry was stunned, Ginny having said more in a minute than he'd heard in all the time he'd know her.
"I..." Harry paused, "hmm..." he said thoughtfully, being totally at a loss for words.
"Yes... well. I suppose I'll avoid you now at all costs," said Ginny seriously. "I think I'll have a bit of a problem at Quidditch, assuming I make the team, but really... there's no need for Seekers and Chasers to ever speak to each other. So we should get along fine never speaking to each other again."
That's a bit harsh... thought Harry.
"Well, that's a bit harsh..." said Harry, finally, being totally unable to think of anything else.
Ginny, Harry realized, was actually very plain. He'd been staring at her since she'd first said 'Hullo' and it had finally struck him. She was really just an ordinary girl, her freckles standing out on her cheeks even in the darkness. And her hair hung around her, loosely curled and tousled from being in bed. Very normal girl hair, he thought. Yes, and her eyes were very average too, shining bright and the color of brandy in the bottom of a glass, a sort of deep auburn-brown that was, Harry was sure, a very normal color. A very plain girl, indeed.
"I don't think so," Ginny said, breaking into his thoughts. "No, I am now definitely too embarrassed to speak to you again, so if you'd be so kind as to not go out of your way to converse with me, I'd appreciate it."
"It's 'Girls Are All Completely Mad' day, I suppose..." mumbled Harry, under his breath.
"Thanks," said Ginny, taking this as an acceptance. After a long moment's pause, she turned her face away from him. "I'm sorry... I really, well... if I could do it again... I wouldn't."
And with that, Virginia Weasley climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory, pulled the curtains about her four-poster, and began to weep.
"Barking mad," said Ron, "she drives me bloody, barking mad."
"I agree," said Harry, too happy to have Ron back to argue with him.
"I'm beat, think I'll turn in," Ron said, heading toward the stairs. "You coming?"
"Erm... no. I don't think I will. I want a bit of time alone."
"Right. Well, I'll see you in the morning then."
"Right," Harry replied, dropping down into his favourite overstuffed chair.
Harry stared into the fire, watching the flames curl into thousands of shapes. Each moment they flicked and fluttered, moment to moment changing from the Chuddly Cannons professional Quidditch team to his cauldron exploding in Potions, to masses of jumbled shapes he simply couldn't make anything of. But, there was one thing about those jumbled masses he was sure of; the longer he stared at them, the more the grew to look like something very familiar. And as he concentrated, that something familiar grew to look like a face.
"Sirius," gasped Harry. He blinked in amazement, but when he turned his eyes back to the flames, the aparation had vanished.
"I knew it was too good to be real..." he sighed, leaning back in the chair once more, turning it away from the fire. Sirius... I wish you were here... He now took to looking intently into the shadows, thinking the most he would see there would be Crookshanks. He was wrong, however, because several minutes of staring produced a faint reddish glow, which Harry thought must have been caused by the strain of his eyes in the dark.
"Hullo, Harry," This voice was one he knew, but had not heard in a while. Ginny stepped into the small circle of firelight, her hair veritably glowing with the reflections of the flame.
"Hullo, Ginny," Harry answered, very stiffly indeed. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Oh, please don't. You sound just like Ron. He's so preoccupied with treating me as though he was mum, he's hardly been nice to me since we left the Burrow."
"I just can't find it in me to be plesent to you, after what you did. Why didn't you say something, instead of letting all the blame fall on me. I almost lost my two best friends over this."
"It's Ron. He's so subconsciously obsessed with filling Percy's shoes he's become totally unbearable. At least that's what I think. He goes completely mad at the smallest little things, he thinks he can be so strict with me. I was just afraid of him, of what he'd say."
"That's no excuse to ruin my life!" Harry shouted, not giving any thought at all to his housemates, sleeping in the dormitories above them.
"Harry, please... I didn't mean... you know I would never hurt you on purpose. I didn't think."
"I had just told you how I felt about Hermione... why did you pick then to ... well, kiss me?" Harry asked akwardly.
"It was my last chance. You were going to tell Hermione how you felt, and I thought I'd have a last go at telling you how I felt. I love you Harry. I've always known, since I first saw you. I didn't know you were famous Harry Potter, all I knew was that you were a skinny, awkward boy with thin arms and wild hair and perfect brilliant green eyes, and I knew I loved you. Imagine how horrible it was to think that you were famous, to think you'd been through so much trouble and heartache. I didn't want you to be famous... I just wanted you to be comforted. And I wanted to do the comforting," Ginny slumped down onto a warm red sofa, seemingly drained from her speech. Harry was stunned, Ginny having said more in a minute than he'd heard in all the time he'd know her.
"I..." Harry paused, "hmm..." he said thoughtfully, being totally at a loss for words.
"Yes... well. I suppose I'll avoid you now at all costs," said Ginny seriously. "I think I'll have a bit of a problem at Quidditch, assuming I make the team, but really... there's no need for Seekers and Chasers to ever speak to each other. So we should get along fine never speaking to each other again."
That's a bit harsh... thought Harry.
"Well, that's a bit harsh..." said Harry, finally, being totally unable to think of anything else.
Ginny, Harry realized, was actually very plain. He'd been staring at her since she'd first said 'Hullo' and it had finally struck him. She was really just an ordinary girl, her freckles standing out on her cheeks even in the darkness. And her hair hung around her, loosely curled and tousled from being in bed. Very normal girl hair, he thought. Yes, and her eyes were very average too, shining bright and the color of brandy in the bottom of a glass, a sort of deep auburn-brown that was, Harry was sure, a very normal color. A very plain girl, indeed.
"I don't think so," Ginny said, breaking into his thoughts. "No, I am now definitely too embarrassed to speak to you again, so if you'd be so kind as to not go out of your way to converse with me, I'd appreciate it."
"It's 'Girls Are All Completely Mad' day, I suppose..." mumbled Harry, under his breath.
"Thanks," said Ginny, taking this as an acceptance. After a long moment's pause, she turned her face away from him. "I'm sorry... I really, well... if I could do it again... I wouldn't."
And with that, Virginia Weasley climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory, pulled the curtains about her four-poster, and began to weep.