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Chapter Seven: When Pranks Backfire
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Hermione awoke the next morning to a throbbing head.
Her neck was stiff and she felt clammy, like the temperature in the Weasley house was about a hundred degrees too hot. She shifted uncomfortably and felt soreness in her side. She tried to remember the events of the previous night, but it was all a blur. She vaguely remembered Firewhisky, lots of giggling, an enchanted ceiling, and – wait, where was she? The pillow her head was resting on wasn't nearly as soft as it should've been. She opened her eyes and was instantly greeted by blinding light. She winced and shut her eyes again.
She heard a groan, coming from somewhere close to her. She forced her eyes open again and saw that her pillow wasn't a pillow; it was Ron. She screamed and sat up abruptly, instantly regretting it, as her head felt like it would blow up. Her ears were ringing and her eyes couldn't focus on anything.
'Bloody hell, Hermione, shut up!' mumbled Ron, who was groaning again. Hermione blinked repeatedly, willing her eyes to adjust to the overwhelming brightness. When it got slightly better, she looked back at Ron, who was shirtless and holding his head. 'Holy shit –'
'Ron!'
'Oh, bugger off,' he said, waving at her dismissively. He looked uncomfortable and his cheeks coloured a bit. 'What – what're you wearing?'
She looked down at herself and nearly screamed again. She was wearing her shorts from the night before, but her top half was clad in only her bra. She grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to cover herself. Ron looked around his bedroom, trying not to look at her, pretending he hadn't seen anything.
'Merlin ...what's going on?' asked Hermione. 'What happened?'
'I don't – I don't know.' He sat up slowly, looking slightly woozy. 'I can't remember.'
'Well, hello.'
'Good morning, you two.'
Hermione looked up, mortified, as Fred and George strolled into the room. She heard Ron curse under his breath.
'You might want to drink this,' Fred said. He handed Hermione a glass full of a bubbling bluish-brown substance.
'You're mad if you think I'm drinking anything you give me,' she mumbled, pushing the glass away. She looked at Ron, who eagerly gulped down the potion George had handed him. He smiled contentedly. 'Ron!'
'What? Drink it, it gets rid of the hangover,' explained Ron.
She gave the potion another nervous glance before drinking it. It tasted absolutely horrible. She held her breath, waiting for her forehead to sprout an arm or her ears to shrivel up and fall off. The only thing she noticed, however, was the significant subsiding of her headache. She sighed and handed the cup back to Fred, smiling gratefully at him.
'Don't worry,' George said, noticing the look on Ron's face, 'Mum left really early this morning; she didn't bother checking in on you. She's gone off to Headquarters with McGonagall. I think they're trying to make the place more inviting for when Harry gets there this afternoon.'
'It's just the six of us again,' Fred said, far too enthusiastically for Hermione's liking.
'Don't you have to be at the shop or something?' Hermione snapped.
'No. We put our assistant, Verity, in charge,' said George.
'Poor girl ...I hope she doesn't stumble across our – er – new development,' Fred said, exchanging a concerned look with his twin. Hermione didn't even want to know what they could be talking about.
'Sorry to interrupt,' said Ron, irritably, 'but could either of you tell us what happened last night?'
'Why are we like this?' demanded Hermione.
'You took your clothes off yourselves,' said George. 'In fact, you two were in the middle of a heated snog when we found you.' He shrugged and Fred winked suggestively.
'WHAT?' Hermione screamed. Ron turned scarlet.
'Only joking,' Fred laughed nervously. 'You two were in here –'
'Pissed out of your minds –'
'Mumbling something about getting into your pajamas –'
'When you both passed out.'
Hermione sighed in relief, but Ron hadn't cooled off. He glared menacingly at his brothers. 'That doesn't explain,' he growled, 'why we woke up in my bed. What did you bastards do?'
George said, 'Relax, Ronnie, it's no big deal. We had a little fun and threw you two on there –'
Fred winked again. 'Of course, you must've moved in the night, because we didn't put you two so close together.'
Hermione blushed and tighten her grip on the blankets. It was bad enough Ron had seen her in her bra; she didn't want the rest of his family to, as well. She cursed herself for not having her wand on her. She could've at least taken comfort in knowing she could hex the two idiots if they tried anything.
George laughed at the two friends. 'All we wanted to do was give ourselves a laugh. We thought that if we stopped by early enough, we could wake you up and give you both a good ribbing –'
'– Not to mention a little scare –'
'And it worked wonderfully.'
They slapped each other on the back and Hermione scowled. She was about to get up and walk out when she remembered what she was wearing. She was trapped, forced to stay there. She couldn't leave, not without having to endure the snide comments and catcalls that she would no doubt receive from George and Fred if she walked around topless.
Having been thoroughly embarrassed, she buried her face into the blankets, not wanting to look at the triumph and sheer enjoyment on their faces as they basked in the glow of yet another practical joke.
She felt Ron hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder and whisper, 'Don't pay any attention to them, Hermione, they're gits.' She smiled into the covers and lifted her head again. George gave Ron a curious look and the smile slid off his face. He turned and gave Hermione the same look before nudging Fred. Fred seemed confused for a moment before his smile, too, disappeared. He raised an eyebrow at them and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by a scream.
The twins beamed before yelling 'Ginny!' and ran out of the room.
……………………………………………………………
Ron's brothers were incorrigible.
They had deliberately put him and Hermione like that, just to embarrass them when they woke up. Why would they –?
No. They didn't know, did they?
Of course they didn't. They couldn't. If they did, he was sure they'd have said something already. Although something about the look George gave him, right before he and Fred ran out of the room, gave him an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He was never drinking again. Okay, that was a lie. But he'd at least wait awhile before taking his next drink. He didn't particularly like waking up with a hangover. In fact, the only reason Ron hadn't killed Fred and George for their trick was because they'd made the Hangover Potion. Ron assumed they'd covered for the four of them when his mother had asked what had happened to them last night, though mostly to save their own arses.
But no matter how angry he was at his brothers, or how embarrassed he was, one thing was for sure: Ron would never forget the image of Hermione, lying in his bed, in only her bra and shorts.
'Merlin, what did they do to Ginny?' asked Hermione, sounding alarmed. She pushed the blankets off her and, being that she was against the wall and Ron was on the free side of the bed, she hopped over him and planted her feet firmly on the ground. She was about to rush out of the room to aid her friend when Ron noticed she hadn't put on any clothes.
'Er ...Hermione?'
She turned around and looked at him. He wanted to look at her face, he really did, but ...she wasn't making it easy for him. He was hardly discreet as his eyes swept her body, taking in the swell of her breasts and smooth, flat stomach; the curve of her hips that he could clearly see, even though she was wearing bottoms. Bookish though she was, she was still a girl (yes, Ron had noticed) and though she was usually very conservative, it hadn't hindered her development in any way.
Her skin looked so soft, and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over her. Her bra was black and delicate fabric. Delicate. That was exactly how he'd be with Hermione. He wouldn't just have her for a quick snog, which had been the basis of his and Lavender's relationship. He wanted to kiss her (not to mention do other things), sure, but he wanted everything that went along with a relationship. He wanted to be able to hold her hand for no reason at all, or brush her bushy hair out of her beautiful face, just as an excuse to touch her. He wanted to row with her in the same way they always had, but instead of not speaking for days on end, he wanted to hug her and kiss her and finally be able to say he was sorry to her face, like he'd tried to do so many times in the past.
Bloody hell, when had Hermione gotten so ...sexy? He was instantly glad that the heat had been nearly unbearable all week, forcing everyone to wear their summer clothes. Her shorts were small and showed off her long, smooth legs. He wondered what they'd feel like if they were wrapped around his waist.
He bit his lip; glad the blankets were covering his ...lower regions, and forced himself to think disgusting thoughts.
Malfoy, he thought. Malfoy smirking and calling him 'Weasel'. Malfoy, the Death Eater. Hermione punching Malfoy during third year ...she was bloody brilliant. So fiery and...
Hermione looked down at herself and blushed. Ron averted his eyes, desperate to calm himself down. When he looked back, she had folded her arms across her chest and was scanning the area for her missing shirt.
Quidditch ...Exploding Snaps ...Homework ...McGonagall ...Hagrid!
Nothing worked.
Snape.
It worked.
Ron cleared his throat and hesitated before standing up, reaching for the shirt he'd worn the night before, which was lying forgotten on the floor. He threw it to her.
'Here, wear this for now,' he mumbled.
'Thanks,' said Hermione, catching it and quickly putting it on. Much to Ron's disappointment, it covered her up quite well. It hung down low on her, almost to her knees, a true testament to their height difference.
Ron felt a swooping sensation in his stomach when she made eye contact. He had to say something.
He should tell her.
He couldn't.
He had to.
'Hermione –'
'YOU BASTARDS! FIX THIS RIGHT NOW! I'LL HEX YOU TO OBLIVION, BOTH OF YOU!'
Hermione jumped slightly as the sound of Ginny's angry shrieks filled the entire house. They ran down to her room, curious and slightly concerned, wondering what was going on.
'FRED, SO HELP ME – Harry, stop laughing! – I'LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN, GEORGE!'
Ron ran into his sister's room and stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione, who had somehow wound up behind him on the stairs, slammed into him from behind. He would've asked her if she was alright or helped her get steady, but he was far too shocked to think straight. He moved deeper into the room, Hermione following him. He heard a gasp escape her lips.
Fred and George were standing beside Ginny's bed, cowering in fear, and Ginny was standing on her mattress, now equal height to the twins. Harry was flat on Ginny's bed, rolling around in hysterical laughter and occasionally grabbed his head or side. Ron bit his lip hard, not wanting to break down like Harry, for he knew that his friend would be in for it later.
Ginny was orange. And it was hilarious.
No, orange didn't begin to describe it.
Her skin was almost florescent. Her face, her hands, arms, legs and feet. Every piece of her that he could see was glowing bright orange. Ron winced. It would look terrible on anybody, but her hair only make it even worse.
'Holy shit,' he whispered. Hermione didn't even yell at him. She stood beside him, her jaw nearly to the floor.
'What did you two do to her?' she demanded.
'I'LL TELL YOU WHAT THEY DID!' shouted Ginny. She winced and clutched her head, swaying slightly on her feet, but didn't stop yelling. 'THEY SLIPPED ME SOME BLOODY PRODUCT LAST NIGHT AND NOW I'M ...I'M ...ORANGE!'
Fred and George, much to Ron's amazement, weren't laughing. On the contrary, they look as if they might soil themselves with fear. Ron was startled to realize just how similar his little sister was to their mother in that aspect. Harry's chuckling had subsided and he was holding his head painfully, his amusement still apparent on his face.
'Don't just stand there,' Hermione said worriedly. 'Fix whatever you've done.'
'YES, FIX IT, OR I SWEAR I'LL USE THE KILLING CURSE ON YOU BOTH – WITH PLEASURE.'
'You'll be in loads of trouble with Mum if you use magic to –' George began, but stopped abruptly when he got a particularly threatening glare from Ginny.
'I DON'T CARE! JUST GET RID OF THIS AWFUL COLOUR!'
'Can't,' Fred said fearfully. 'That –' he pointed at her face 'is the work of a Tangerine Tart. The effects last a full twenty-four hours.'
'WHAT!' Ginny's face was contorted into an expression of anger, but her skin didn't turn its usual bright red. Ron held back another laugh when he realized it was because she was temporarily orange. She'd be orange all day. He was about to crack a slightly insensitive joke when she sank down onto the bed and burst into tears. Hermione clicked her tongue against her teeth and Harry stopped smiling immediately, looking mortified. Ginny buried her orange face into his chest and sobbed.
Harry put an arm around her and grabbed his wand from his pocket. Ron had never seen him look so angry, and he'd seen Harry become angry quite often throughout their friendship. If looks could kill ...well, his brothers wouldn't still be standing. He didn't like the way Harry was pointing his wand at Fred and George, but had to admit, he was slightly pleased with the way Harry was defending Ginny.
He decided he'd allow Harry to hold her like that for now. She was upset, and he was comforting her. But if he tried anything, Ron would kill him. The only reason Ron hadn't already beaten Harry to a bloody pulp for dumping Ginny was because he was Ron's best friend, but he wouldn't be able to contain his rage if Harry hurt his sister again. He was a Weasley, and nobody messed with a Weasley – especially one particular Weasley, the one who had six older, temperamental brothers. Harry was practically a brother to him, but Ginny was his sister by blood, and he'd be damned if he let anyone take advantage of her. Ginny wasn't a pushover by any means, but she wanted Harry badly enough that Ron knew she'd let him do practically anything. He hoped Harry would keep his hands to himself. He wasn't allowed to have Ginny until the Final Battle was over and done with, so Ginny could be safe and Harry wouldn't feel the need to deny her.
'If either of you value your lives, you'll figure out a way to fix ...this. I don't bloody care what you do, but if she isn't back to normal within two hours, you'll be the ones to pay,' he growled. Fred and George took a few steps back and Harry continued to hold his wand out menacingly. 'She might not be able to use magic but I am, and so help me, I won't hesitate to hex you both.'
……………………………………………………………
Harry woke up to a rather painful headache. At first, he thought it was his scar burning, but he quickly remembered that he had had quite a bit of Firewhisky last night. He felt rather than saw Ginny asleep, her head resting on his chest. He sighed and ran his fingers through her flaming red hair.
He shut his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, hoping it wasn't too early and that his hangover wouldn't be as severe by the time he had to leave the room and face Mrs Weasley. He listened to Ginny's calm, even breathing and was almost on the brink of sleep when he felt her stirring. She groaned and sat up slowly.
'Hey,' whispered Harry.
'Hey,' she said. 'My head hurts.'
'Yeah, so does mine,' he laughed. Harry squinted in the dark of her room, trying to see her face. Something looked strange ...she looked different.
He vaguely remembered Fred (or was it George?) saying something last night about Ginny being angry when she awoke. She didn't seem angry to Harry. What else had they said? He searched his memory, trying to remember their conversation.
Oh.
He could somewhat see her through the light coming in from the curtains of her window, but he needed to be absolutely sure. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered 'Lumos!'
His suspicions were confirmed. Her face was orange. His eyes went wide and his first instinct was to burst out laughing. He sniggered and sat up to get a better look at her. It wasn't just her face, it was her entire body. All of her skin was a bright orange in colour.
'What?' asked Ginny.
Harry offered a weak smile and said, 'Maybe you should look in the mirror.' He unlocked her door as she opened her curtains, allowing more light inside. He tucked his wand away, praying that she didn't react badly to her appearance. Walking over to her mirror, she gaped in shock and her hands flew to her face. Then she screamed.
Moments later, Fred and George were in her room, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves. Harry exploded into laughter, ignoring the pain in his head and he did so. Ginny rushed over to him and smacked him with her pillow, only causing him to laugh ever harder. She jumped onto the bed, standing tall, and glared at her brothers. Harry felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched her. Her back was to him, but he didn't need to see her face in order to imagine the look on it. Only now, she was orange, as well.
He felt slightly like Hermione the night before, when she couldn't stop laughing over the silliest of things. There was a stitch in his side, but he still couldn't control himself. He was giggling like an idiot, and didn't care. Even her feet were orange!
He wasn't even aware of what was going on around him until he heard Ron curse, followed by Hermione demanding an explanation.
He forced himself to focus on what was happening, though he didn't take his eyes off of her neck. It was almost the same colour as her hair. It was truly unfortunate that she was a redhead. If it hadn't clashed so terribly with her red locks, she might've even appreciated the joke. It was rather funny, in Harry's opinion.
He watched as the small girl whipped out her wand and threatened to kill the twins. The look of terror on the faces of Fred and George – who were still almost taller than her, even though she was standing on her bed - was nothing short of hysterical. One of them explained that the spell wouldn't wear off for an entire day. Without warning, she flopped down onto the bed and cried. Harry didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected her to cry, and he definitely hadn't expected the overwhelming anger that welled up inside of him when she did.
Her stupid bastard brothers, the ones who Harry had given his money to, so they could start their joke shop, had done this to her. Harry felt directly responsible. Without him, there never would've been a "Tangerine Tart" for her to eat. He did the only thing he could think of – he whipped out his wand and threatened them.
'Harry,' pleaded Hermione, 'calm down.' Harry turned to glare at her, not really angry at her, but irritated that she was interfering. Ron stepped in front of her, protectively, looking uneasily at Harry's wand.
'We can't fix it. We haven't got an antidote for it,' explained George.
'It wears off in a day, I don't see what she's so concerned about,' said Fred. Ginny gave another loud sob and Harry didn't lower his wand. He was almost shaking with fury. He honestly didn't see a problem with murdering the two prats right there.
'Then you'd better get on it, because I wasn't joking when I said you have two hours,' he said evenly. His voice was calm but he was nothing of the sort.
'Harry –'
'You're wasting valuable time,' muttered Harry.
'Whoa, wait a second here,' Fred said. 'What exactly d'you think you're going to do to us?' He sounded almost as if he was mocking Harry. Harry Potter was not to be taken lightly, especially when it came to the girl he lo–
His thoughts came to a crashing halt and he stared blankly at the twins for a moment before tightening his grip on his wand. 'Why don't you stick around and find out? I'd be more than willing to teach you a lesson about pranking Ginny.'
Fred opened his mouth to argue but George elbowed him in the ribs. 'We'll just leave now and see if we can find an antidote,' he said. Harry nodded, but said nothing.
The twins Apparated out of the bedroom and Harry returned his wand to his pocket. He looked awkwardly at Ron, who had some mixture of a grin and a glare on his face, and Hermione, who looked downright shocked. He surveyed their clothing. Hermione was wearing Ron's shirt, and he wasn't sure if there was anything underneath it. Ron was wearing wrinkled trousers and Harry guessed Hermione had his shirt on, because his chest was bare.
'So ...' said Harry, a playful smile tugging at his lips, 'what did you two do last night?'
His smile quickly vanished when Hermione looked at her feet and Ron blushed furiously. Hermione glided over to the bed and put a comforting hand on Ginny's back. The room was silent – except for Ginny's occasional sob – and it was then that Harry noticed how terrible his headache truly was. He groaned, and using the hand that wasn't wrapped protectively around Ginny, clutched his forehead again. Ron left the room, and returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses filled with a disgusting-looking potion.
'Drink,' he ordered, handing a glass to Harry. He gave Ron a worried look. 'It'll get rid of that headache.' Harry snatched the drink out of his hands and guzzled it down quickly, trying not to gag. Why was it that every potion in the world that was supposed to help him also made him want to retch? He automatically didn't care as he felt the sudden relief of his pounding head.
Ginny pulled away from Harry and took the other drink from her brother. She made a face as she drank but immediately sighed and offered everyone a weak smile.
'Sorry,' she apologized, wiping her eyes. 'I didn't mean to explode like that.'
'What they did was horrible,' Hermione said. 'Honestly, I don't find it funny in the least.'
'It's not that bad,' Ron lied. He offered her a reassuring smile. 'It'll wear off by tomorrow.'
'It had better wear off in a few hours, if those idiots know what's good for them,' Ginny laughed. She shot Harry an appreciative look. 'Thanks for scaring them, but I doubt they'll come up with anything. And besides, I think Mum might get mad if you murder them.'
Mrs Weasley came home half an hour later. Harry was upstairs dressing, but he was alerted of her presence when he heard her screaming. He smiled and followed the noise, Ron hot on his trail. He found the woman, red-faced and arms flailing, pacing around the room as Hermione and Ginny looked on.
'I specifically told them they weren't allowed to use any products on any of you! When I get my hands on them – oh, Ginny, why would you take something like that from them, anyway?'
Ginny looked at Hermione for help. She couldn't exactly say that she'd been intoxicated when it had happened. That would get Fred and George in some highly-deserved trouble, yes, but she'd also be in hot water for drinking.
'I didn't realize ...' mumbled Ginny. She noticed Harry and Ron for the first time and shot them a pleading look. They both shrugged and wisely kept their distance.
'Well, go upstairs and get ready, because we have to be at Grimmauld Place in an hour,' Mrs Weasley said.
Ginny's eyes went wide. 'No! I'm not going! I refuse to be seen like this outside of the house!'
'You don't have a choice,' argued Mrs Weasley. 'I can't leave you alone – look what happened the last time I trusted you lot to be responsible.'
'But Mum –'
'Ginevra Weasley,' Mrs Weasley said in a dangerous tone, 'you are coming whether you like it or not. Now, you can waste an hour complaining and end up arriving at Headquarters in your wrinkled clothes and unwashed face, or you can go upstairs and fix yourself up.'
Ginny sighed and went up the stairs.
Harry's chest constricted and he felt a sudden nervousness in his stomach – he was going back to Grimmauld Place, to officially become a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
……………………………………………………………
This would go down as one of the worst days in Ginny's life.
And for a girl who had spent her life being slightly ignored by her parents and six older brothers, had been possessed by Voldemort, narrowly escaped death twice in the past two years, not to mention been dumped by the boy she'd had a mad crush on since she was ten, that was saying something.
Grimmauld Place was it's usual gloomy self, although it seemed cleaner than usual. Ginny guessed it was because that filthy house elf, Kreacher, wasn't there to make a mess of things.
'Scum! Blood traitors, disgusting creatures, filth! Besmirching the house of my fathers!'
That old hag was getting on Ginny's last nerve. If she had the ability to use magic, she would've whipped out her wand and blown a hole though that bloody wall ages ago. Sirius had mentioned something about a permanent sticking charm, but he never said anything about what would happen if the entire wall was taken down. She was sure Harry wouldn't have minded if she destroyed some of his house.
To top it all off, there was a substantial amount of Order members present (all of whom she knew rather well and saw on a weekly basis) at Headquarters for Harry's introduction. They were all were either staring rudely at her or avoiding eye contact altogether. She was orange, yes, but she wasn't a mutant!
The others didn't seem to be having a good time, either. Harry was uncomfortable, and understandably so. This was his godfather's house. He hadn't been in it since Sirius was alive. Ginny couldn't image how hard it must've been for him to stay there. She was half expecting the man to trudge into the room any minute now, a thought that only broke her heart when she remembered the truth about poor Sirius, and the fact that she'd never see him again. Ron and Hermione were slightly more cheerful than Harry, though Ginny noticed they were acting strange around each other. They were sitting on the same couch, but on opposite ends, as far away as they could possible be while on the same piece of furniture. She could lie down in the space they'd left between themselves.
Bill arrived shortly after they did, with the twins behind him. Ginny looked at Harry, who was shooting them a death glare.
'We – er – couldn't find anything to make it go away immediately,' admitted George, looking almost afraid.
'Take this,' Fred said, handing a small pill to Ginny. 'It'll speed up the fading process, you know, so you won't be so –'
'And why should I believe you?' demanded Ginny. She was still furious with her brothers ...the mangy gits.
'We aren't the brightest blokes around,' said George, 'but we know better than to give you something else, with Mum around here somewhere, no doubt ready to murder us as it is.'
Ginny tentatively took the pill and swallowed it. She turned to Hermione. 'Well? Any difference?'
Hermione offered a small smile. 'It looks a little lighter,' she said hopefully. 'It isn't as ...bright as before.'
'It'll still take a bit to fully work,' explained Fred. 'I don't see what the big deal is, of course. It was just a harmless joke ...'
Ginny was about to curse loudly at them when McGonagall entered the room. When her eyes scanned the room and fell on Ginny, she gave a surprised gasp before looking at Bill and nodding. The eldest Weasley child smiled in recognition and left the room, dragging Fred and George with him. 'If you're ready,' she said to Harry, 'we'll see you now. We've assembled only the most trusted of all the Order members to be here today – Arthur, Molly and Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and myself, of course. Did you bring the note with you?'
'Er ...yeah,' said Harry. He stood up and reached into his pocket, handing her the crumple up note that Ginny knew to be the one found in the fake Horcrux, the one from R.A.B. Harry awkwardly looked at the other people in the room.
'I trust that Mr Weasley and Miss Granger accompanying you?'
Harry nodded. He started to leave before pausing and turning back to face Ginny. He worried his lip and regarded her for a moment. She assumed he was trying to make eye contact, trying to make sure that she wasn't angry at him for not including her. She stubbornly looked away. She couldn't help feeling slightly bitter and envious as she watched Hermione and Ron desert her to go talk about important, secretive things. She knew it wasn't Harry's fault, of course, and that her mother was the one keeping her out of the loop, but it didn't help that her brother, who was less than twenty months older than her, was being thrown into the mix.
'Actually, Professor, would it be okay if Ginny came, too?'
Her head snapped back in Harry's direction. He was staring at her with a concerned expression on his face. She could tell he didn't really want her there, but also realized that she deserved to be there, she had earned the right to be included. Her brother glared at Harry, cursing him under his breath. Hermione smiled at her.
'Molly wishes that her daughter be kept out of this business until she is of legal age,' McGonagall informed him. Ginny's heart sank. There was no way Harry would be able to override her mum's authority, and even if he could, he wouldn't dare. Ginny was yet to meet someone who wasn't, on one level or another, frightened of Molly Weasley.
'Yes, I'm aware,' Harry said calmly, 'but if I'm going to be in charge, I'm going to want to be surrounded by people that I trust.' He winked at Ginny. 'I know I have to respect Mrs Weasley's wishes, and so I'm not asking that Ginny be able to join the Order or participate in the missions. I am, however, asking that she sit in on the meetings.'
'Potter, Miss Weasley is –'
'One of the brightest witches I know,' he interjected. Ginny was getting nervous. She had never seen anyone stand up to her mother or Professor McGonagall, let alone at the same time. 'She might be able to offer insight into some of the matters.'
'I see your point,' said McGonagall. 'But she is only fifteen, and she –'
'Has already fought Death Eaters in two separate instances, both times having escaped without any serious injury – which, correct me if I am wrong, is more than I can say for some of the trained Aurors who were present at those battles,' Harry said forcefully. 'And she'll be sixteen in a week and a half, if it helps.'
Ginny smiled inwardly. It felt amazing to hear Harry talking about her like that, as if she was some powerful, accomplished witch.
'She has more than proven that she can handle anything we throw at her. She's clever and capable, and as much as I hate to admit it, I think she'd be quite good as an Order member,' he continued. Ron's face had turned about the same colour of Ginny's magically altered one and his hands were balled into fists, his knuckles now white. McGonagall looked about ready to object again when he said, 'I know, I know, she can't join the Order, I've already agreed with you on that, but I want her there. And I'm not just saying this because I want all my friends to be at the meetings with me, because honestly, I'd prefer it if none of them were wrapped up into this. But they are, and I can't change that now.'
Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and shook her head. He wisely shut his mouth, though he didn't look as if he'd calmed down any. McGonagall was standing with her hands on her hips, looking up at Harry, who was still arguing his point.
'Apart from me, she's the only living person on our side to be in any type of contact with Voldemort in the past sixteen years. She deserves to at least sit in on a conversation about him, don't you think?' asked Harry.
'I think so, yes,' agreed McGonagall. 'Unfortunately, it is not what I think, but what is best for her, that is important.'
'Absolutely, you're right. What's best for all of us is a very important issue for the Order,' Harry said. Ginny was confused. A minute ago he was arguing with Professor McGonagall, and now he was folding? She was about to salvage his dignity and just tell him to go on without her when he got a stubborn look on his face. A smile played on his lips as he said, 'However, I think we'd all agree that the best thing would be for Voldemort to be gone, isn't that correct?'
'Yes,' nodded McGonagall, though she still didn't seem understand. Ginny didn't understand, either.
'Good.' He lowered his voice. 'You've heard the prophecy, Professor; you know that I'm the, er, "Chosen One", as everyone puts it.' She nodded quickly and he continued. 'Then allow me to offer you a choice: you either allow Ginny to participate in the meeting, or I refuse to attend.'
'Are you giving me an ultimatum, Potter?'
'Now, now, ultimatum is such a ...harsh word.' Harry grinned and appeared to think about it. 'But yes, I suppose I am giving you one.'
Hermione gasped and Ron finally calmed down as the two looked on. Ginny couldn't contain her grin as Professor McGonagall appeared truly shocked. McGonagall turned and stared at Ginny, who instantly wiped the smile from her face and gave her a pleading look.
'Fine,' she concurred. 'But if I catch you so much as breathing the wrong way, you're out, got it?'
'Got it,' Ginny said, nodding furiously.
'Under no circumstances are you allowed to attend the missions until you are seventeen years of age, do you understand?'
'I understand.'
Ginny and Professor McGonagall engaged in a staring contest for several seconds before McGonagall nodded and said, 'Very well, then.' She looked back at Harry. 'I don't appreciate the situation you've put me in.'
'I'm sorry for that, really, but this is important and I wouldn't do this if I didn't think she could handle it. You'll see. She'll be very useful, I promise,' he said quietly, so quietly that Ginny had to struggle to make out what he had said. McGonagall nodded stiffly and walked out of the room, beckoning them to follow her. Ron and Hermione went eagerly, but Ginny grabbed Harry's arm and the two lingered behind.
'Thank you,' she said appreciatively. 'I know you don't want me there, but ...'
'Yeah, well ...' said Harry. 'I thought about what you said, that day in the attic. You were right, I guess. This is your fight, too, and you deserve to at least know what's going on.'
Her breathing hitched and she was tempted to ask him something that she wasn't supposed to ask until Bill's wedding, but she caught herself just in time. 'Did you see Ron's face? I thought he was going to explode!'
Harry laughed. 'He'll get over it.'
'You think?'
'If he wants to be invited to the next meeting, he'd be smart to control himself during this one,' said Harry. He smiled and touched her cheek. 'It doesn't look that bad anymore, y'know. Whatever Fred gave you, it worked. It's faded a bit.'
'Well, I hope so,' she said, looking up at him. 'I was as orange as a bloody pumpkin!'
'Maybe,' he grinned, 'but you still looked beautiful.'
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Before I start getting reviews saying her name is Virginia Weasley – no, it's actually Ginevra. Check out JK Rowling's official website under 'Characters' (found in the 'Extra' section) for those of you who don't believe.
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