"Neville, I need a drink," Ginny said, slumping into a seat opposite Neville Longbottom where he sat in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron. Neville looked up from the parchment he was marking and raised an eyebrow.
"You look like you've just had an ... interesting time," he said. Ginny scowled.
"I would like to know where my family — and I use that term loosely — come up with these idiots!" she said, rifling through her handbag, searching for the mirror she kept there. Neville signalled Hannah and turned to smirk at Ginny.
"Ah, been on a date then?" Neville asked. Ginny made a face at him and flipped the mirror open as Hannah delivered two pints to the table and kissed Neville on the cheek before going back to the bar. Neville blushed and Ginny smirked at him before peering at her reflection critically.
"Oooh, nasty," said the mirror and Ginny snapped it shut.
"It is my imagination, Neville or do I have a black eye?" Ginny demanded. It hadn't been enough that her date for the evening had been chosen by Percy, but he was apparently also the clumsiest bloke in England, or possibly Europe — if you discounted Viktor Krum's inability to walk in a straight line owing to his pigeon toes and an unfortunate charm Fleur let lose at him during her pregnancy. Ten Pin Bowling had been a poor choice for someone so unco-ordinated, and far too Muggle for someone still prone to bouts of accidental magic.
It had begun with promise when Herbert Bigglesworth had turned up on time, well-groomed and at the correct flat, which was an improvement over the fellow George had found last week who didn't own a watch, a sense of direction or, apparently, a bath. However, it had been downhill from there resulting in three spilled drinks, a hasty Confundus charm when Herbert accidentally levitated a bowling ball back from where it had bounced into the next lane and no less than three squashed toes. It had culminated in Herbert over balancing while returning his ball to the rack and elbowing Ginny in the eye. She supposed she was lucky he hadn't hit her in the face with the ball.
"Er ... yeah, your eye is going kind of ... purple," Neville confirmed. "Is this like the time Ernest took you to Madam Puddifoots and the little cupid got you in the eye?"
"No," Ginny said, grabbing her pint and taking a sip, "it's worse, and I really hope no one notices the minor cover up I just did in Up Your Alley. I don't need another nasty letter from the Ministry regarding the use of magic around Muggles. Got any bruise paste?"
"I don't carry it with me anymore," Neville protested.
"Maybe I should," Ginny said gloomily. She stared idly at the tabletop in front of her. Something unidentifiable was stuck to the top and if Ginny squinted hard enough it looked a little like a flying Hippogriff.
Ginny would like to turn her brothers into a flying Hippogriff. In the last few weeks, they'd set her up with a series of wizards in a plan Ginny privately referred to as the 'Get Ginny a Man Plan'. She still hadn't figured out why her brothers were friends with such a socially awkward group, but she had decided that the plan was probably more likely to be a 'Turn Ginny off Men Plan'. There was simply no other explanation for the depths to which they had plumbed to find dates for their sister. The most promising had been Bill's work colleague, Stuart Twitterbottom, but Ginny was shallow enough to admit she couldn't handle his last name. There was no telling where Percy knew Herbert from, but Ginny suspected he was one of Audrey's backward cousins from 'up north' as he reminded her faintly of the man who'd fallen over the pot plant and ended up pulling down the side of the marquee at Percy's wedding. Ginny had managed to ditch Herbert at the bowling alley tonight and practically sprinted back to Diagon Alley, in a thus far successful attempt to evade him, but it was still early on a Friday night, not even Percy would have gone to bed yet, and Ginny planned to salvage her evening, or at least make it worth leaving the house. Neville cleared his throat and shuffled his parchment.
"I hate to abandon you," he began, "since you just got here and all but ... Hannah's off in a minute and we're going out —"
"That's okay," Ginny waved a hand dismissively. "I don't expect you to keep me company. Merlin knows I'm not very good company." Ginny stared into her drink gloomily before taking another sip.
"Really sorry, Ginny," said Neville standing up as Hannah approached. "Maybe you can keep Harry company. Bye!" Neville scurried away as if he feared a Bat-Bogey and Ginny was sorely tempted to give him one next time she saw him. She could line him up next to Percy and George for their part in the 'Keep Ginny Single Plan'.
Neville was one of the few people who knew how much Harry Potter annoyed her. Well, he was one of the few people she'd told. It really wasn't that hard to figure out much Harry Potter annoyed her, and yet Harry himself seemed particularly oblivious to it. The Git had returned to England a few weeks ago and had apparently decided to find out exactly how to annoy her and do it at every opportunity. Either that or he was just particularly talented at being everywhere she was.
He was at The Burrow every week for Sunday dinner. And at George's shop all the time. And at every Harpies game. And at Gringotts that one time. And passing by the Muggle take away the time she'd gone there with the team after practice last week. And at The Leaky Cauldron, although to be fair he did actually live there.
"Hello Ginny," Harry said and sat down in the seat recently vacated by Neville. "How's it go — oooh nasty shiner." Great, that confirmed the black eye was her newest identifying feature, rather like a beacon, drawing everybody in to marvel at her misfortune. Ginny grunted and took another swig of her pint. She could tell her eye was swelling shut and it was making Harry look like a squashed elf — but with hair.
Herbert might have given her a black eye but at least he could brush his hair, even if it was an unnatural shade of yellow. Draco Malfoy had better hair than Herbert Bigglesworth, which was saying something because Draco Malfoy was losing his hair faster than Hermione could slap Ron on the back of the head for belching at the dinner table. Harry on the other hand, had messy hair that didn't lie flat and always looked as though he just let some poor unsuspecting witch run her hands through the soft silky strands.
"What happened?" Harry asked, gesturing at Ginny's face with his own pint.
"Herbert Bigglesworth," Ginny said dryly. Harry frowned. Looking through her one and a half eyes it looked as though his plump, shiny lips vanished into the same sort of thin line Professor McGonagall's did whenever Colin Creevey tried to transfigure his cup in First Year.
"Bigglesworth?" Harry asked, leaning forward. "That plonker in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?"
"He works there? He is a bloody catastrophe!"
"Ironic, no?" Harry smirked. Ginny wondered if she was losing her vision in her left eye entirely because he suddenly looked much more attractive. But that could be because he was, compared to Walter Henford who had taken Ginny dancing at Charlie's request despite the fact that he had two left feet. Literally. St Mungo's had lost his right foot and Walter had grown attached to his second left foot and by all accounts managed quite well. Until he tried to dance.
"Percy's idea," Ginny grumbled. "Said Herbert was a decent sort, yeah, decent at disaster and mayhem." Harry laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that seemed to roll around them. Ginny grinned wryly (and against her will, because she made it a policy never to smile at The Git.)
"I can't believe you took Percy's dating advice in the first place," Harry said, shaking his head and raising his own goblet to his lips. Ginny watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He did have quite a nice neck — from what she could tell, which wasn't that much, owing to the complete closure of her left eye. Harry lowered his goblet and raised an eyebrow at her. She looked down hurriedly.
"Stupid bloody brothers and their stupid blind dates," muttered Ginny into her pint. "Well not their blind dates, my blind dates. They don't need blind dates they've all got someone — or a dragon — and are clearly under the delusion that I wish to join them in such misery." Ginny finished her pint and banged the goblet down on the table. She glared at Harry who kept smirking at her. Git.
"Maybe they're all really happy," said Harry (still smirking), "and just want other people to be happy too, you know, find someone, fall in love ..." Ginny rolled her eyes.
"I'd rather fall in chocolate."