The Cerebral Coordination of Ginny Weasley

Rating: T

Author: iwishihadsomechocolate

Chapter III: In Which There's Dean

The first day of classes is finally over! I'm exhausted. But not for the reason most would think. No, the reason I'm exhausted has nothing to do with the fact that I have homework for the first time in three months, nor were the classes tiring. It has to do with one fifth year boy that won't stop pestering me. He wants to carry my books. I said no. He said I said that he could. I said that I said I'd think about it. He said that he said that meant yes. I said that what I said didn't mean what he said.

And I would have let him carry my books if all he did was effing agree with me! Obviously that was too hard. So I told Harry Potter he could leave me the duck alone. He then told me I wasn't a duck. So I walked away. He stalked me the rest of the day. Which was a pretty nice feeling, actually. Harry Potter stalking me.

It's kind of odd, I guess, that I'm like super excited Harry Potter is stalking me; I never said I wasn't odd, though.

So here I am, sitting in the common room at nine o'clock, reading a chapter for Transfiguration class. I haven't seen Harry since dinner. I keep on glancing up in hopes that he's there, stalking me.

"Hey, Ginny."

Well, that made me jump like ten feet in the air. God dammit, my book fell on the floor, and I lost my place!

I turned around to see Dean Thomas leaning on the back of my chair. I was disappointed. Harry's not a very loyal stalker.

"Oh, hey, Dean," I said as enthusiastically as I could. Why was he talking to me? I know him by sight, but I've never actually stopped to chat with him before. Maybe he's just friendly and polite. Maybe I'm just antisocial and mean.

"What're you doing?" He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to mine. He rolled up his sleeves. Was it just me or was he flexing his arms? Should I feel threatened?

"Oh, just reading for Transfiguration. It's on how to change a cat into a dog." I said this in a way that should make him feel threatened if he intends to do me any harm. If he thinks like I do, he would understand that metaphorically he is a cat and I am learning how to transfigure him into a dog. I don't think he understood this, though, so my threat was unheard.

"Really? We didn't do that until after Christmas last year!" Dean exclaimed excitedly. He flexed his arms a little more. What the hell?

"Oh, well, I guess your class wasn't quite as advanced as ours is," I said jokingly. Inside, though, I was confused. Why was he talking to me? Were the arm contractions some form of Morse code?

"I wouldn't be surprised," he agreed, flashing a pearly white smile at me. His arm tightened several times again.

Then it hit me. He was trying to flirt with me! I mean, why else would he be sitting this close to me, flexing his arms, and smiling at me if he wasn't? In all honesty, his muscles weren't that big. That's probably why he had to flex them to make them appear bigger.

I didn't know how to tell him I wasn't interested. My plan was to get Harry, not Dean. So instead I said, "Let's finish this conversation tomorrow, because I really do need to finish this chapter or McGonagall will skin me alive." There, a nice and easy let down. Now go away.

"Alright. See you tomorrow, Ginny," he said, and then smiled at me again, flexing his arms a little more. He walked away and went up the boys' staircase. I picked up my book from where it fell. Weird but sweet: that's what I labeled Dean Thomas as after that conversation.

--

It had been a week since the Dean incident, and Harry's stalking wasn't a complete disappointment. He would find me before and after almost every class and offer to carry my books. I would have tried avoiding him if I didn't like all of the attention I was getting from him.

It was during my free period that I heard a most interesting conversation. I had walked into the library and scanned the shelves for anything that caught my eye. I was in one of the middle rows when I heard voices coming from the opposite side of the bookshelf. I wouldn't normally eavesdrop on people's private chats, but it was Harry's and Hermione's voices I heard.

"… and she's such a bitch!" came Harry's voice.

"I know, Harry, I know," Hemione answered.

"I'll do whatever it takes just to avoid her in the halls from now on." Avoid who?

"That's a good idea, Harry. Then you would stop getting yelled at by that hag. It would save you a lot of misery." Me? Was it me? I yelled at Harry in the halls. God, I hope it's not me.

"And the way she flaunts around like she owns the place… it makes me sick just to think that the books—" Books? My books? My books make Harry sick? Does it make him sick that I don't let him carry my books? I'll make sure if he asks again to let him carry them. I don't want him to be sick because of me! And I don't flaunt! I stroll.

"Me, too. But there's nothing we can do!"

There was a pause.

"Maybe there is." I jumped as I heard Ron's voice. I didn't know he was there! Traitor! Talking about me behind my back with his two best friends! One who is one of the few girls I'm friends with, and the other, who is really sexy. But I guess they're all traitors. I mean, I'm buds with them. Why are they going behind my back? Am I really that mean? Maybe I am. Maybe I shouldn't have made fun of Neville's plant in my head. Maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh when Harry kicked me and just wanted to apologize. Maybe I should have let Harry carry my books. I mean, it was his way of not feeling guilty. Maybe Harry can read minds. Maybe he knows what goes on in my mind. Oh, God, he knows that I think he's a hunksicle and all of my embarrassing thoughts! I bet he hates me!

In my panic, I didn't hear the rest of the conversation until the last few words were said.

"… is the perfect revenge," finished Hermione's voice. Revenge? On me?

I fled the library quickly, the hurt settling in nicely. And to add the perfect cherry on top of the perfect sundae, I ran into Dean Thomas, quite literally.

He steadied me and kept me from falling over by grabbing my shoulders. I took a deep breath to calm myself for this confrontation.

"Hey, where are you off to in such a rush?" He asked, smiling. He obviously didn't understand that I was upset. As such, I didn't want to let on that I was. So I lied.

"Oh, I forgot that I had to finish up an essay before Potions. It's next. And it's in my dorm. So I need to go there. And get it. Like now." I had very little finesse at the moment. But I was very hurt and sad, and I wanted to cry, dammit!

"Before you go, do you think I could ask something?" he asked eagerly. I almost sighed. Go away, weird but sweet one.

"Sure." My thoughts never seemed to match my actions.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next week?"

"Okay!" I said quickly. I just wanted him to leav—wait! But he was already gone, grinning that grin he grins.

I fumed for a minute, not moving. I didn't want to go with Dean to Hogsmeade. But then I paused and thought about it.

I begrudgingly let myself admit that Dean wasn't so bad. He was nice. But there was always that one set back. He's not Harry. But Harry hates me now. He's getting revenge on me. Because I'm a mean psycho bitch.

I sighed. Deciding I was still very upset with the events that had happened before I bumped into Dean, I went up into my dorm and spent the remainder of my free time crying.

A/N: School starts on tuesday. I'm upset. Review!