The Cerebral Coordination of Ginny Weasley

Rating: T

Author: ValorOrgulloso

Chapter VII: In Which There's Monsieurs Sadistic and Supreme

"Ten points from Gryffindor!"

I looked up in a daze; I had been daydreaming. In potions. Which I suppose was pretty stupid of me. Because Snape is a maniac out to get me. Unable to come up with anything else in my groggy state, I let out an overly loud, "What?" A few people chuckled, and I felt a blush betray me.

Snape, who was telling us something or other before I was rudely grabbed from my reminiscing, narrowed his black eyes at me. "Do you think you are amusing, Weasley?" he drawled. I was about to let out a sarcastic, "Occasionally," but Snape cut me off.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

I heard my classmates groan. "Enough!" Snape barked. "Now get to work!"

Everyone scurried around for ingredients, not wanting to endure Mr. Sadistic's wrath.

I started working on my potion with my partner, Delia Pritz, a Gryffindor. She was alright at potions, and she was nice to me before and after the whole chamber incident. We weren't great friends, but we stuck together when slimy men like Snape were around.

Delia was quiet, never invasive, and generally kind to everyone. So, I was a little surprised when she trapped me in a rather interesting conversation.

"So what are you doing for Christmas break? Going home?" Delia asked, swiping a long strand of brown hair out of her eyes.

I added a few crushed goat toenails to the potion, quietly murmuring, "Well, I planned to, but I may go to a… family friend's home." Sirius Black. I had to visit Grimmauld Place, and Sirius, a few times over the summer, and, let me tell you, it was a dark, dank, spooky, dirty, and a million other adjectives house. My mother said that we may have to stay there, what with the older part of my family in the Order. She said that someone had to take care of the place over Christmas while Order members popped in and out. Christmas break was in less than a week.

"What about you?" I returned out of courtesy. Delia was a bit dull; that may be mean to say, but it's true. She had very little personality.

"My family and I are going to the states to go skiing in New York. I have a few Muggle aunts and uncles out there." I vaguely understood what skiing was from my scarce Muggle-related conversations with Hermione.

We were silent for another minute before Delia hesitantly asked, looking as though she swallowed something foul, "Is Potter going to spend Christmas with you?"

I looked up at her at this, surprised. "Um, yeah – Ron's his best friend and all."

She nodded. "I'm sorry." She looked down, picking at her fingernails as I stared at her in even more surprise.

"What? What d'you mean? Why are you apologizing?" What the hell?

"Well, Dean wanted me to ask –"

"Dean?" I cut her off. "What about Dean?" I tried to keep my voice low as to not arouse suspicion. I glanced around the room to make sure no one was listening. No one was; they were all too enraptured in their potion making, not wanting to mess up for fear of what Snape might do to them.

"Dean wanted me to ask you if you and Harry… were like…," she paused, glancing around her. I leaned in closer. She finished quietly, "… a thing."

I opened my mouth, only to close it. I mean, what do I say to that? Dean. What a problem. I hadn't talked to him since our rendezvous into town, and I had barely spared him a thought. No, I was too caught up with Harry and my own life to think of his. He hadn't even come to the forefront of my mind until now. Come to think of it, maybe I should apologize to him. I did kind of leave abruptly in mid-date mode. For Harry.

I smiled guiltily to myself and at Delia. I whispered quietly, so only Delia could hear me. "Don't tell Dean anything. I'll tell him myself. I need to tell him something anyways."

Delia grinned at me. "So you are together?"

I added a few ingredients, glancing at the big potions textbook. I grinned and nodded as I pretended to read. I heard Delia laugh, but I looked at her and said, "But don't tell anyone. You're the first to know. No one besides us knows."

She smiled benevolently, "I promise I won't tell a soul."

---

After potions, my encounter with Dean came much too soon. I had barely gotten out of the dungeons when I saw him sitting on a bench, reading a book, his bag by his feet.

I took a deep breath, sighed, then regretfully made my way over to him. Apologies were difficult, and I hated giving them. But what goes around comes around; karma can be a bitch.

I quietly eased myself onto the bench about a foot away from him. "Hey, what're you reading?" He jumped and almost dropped his book. Thinking back to a few months ago, I remembered a similar experience. Except he wasn't reading a school book; he was reading a wizard comic book: Dragonman.

I almost rolled my eyes at the comic. It figures he wouldn't be reading an actual substantial book.

"What's up?" he asked after a few uncomposed moments.

I tightened my cheeks and pressed my lips together. I breathed in through my nose, and I began. "I'd just like to apologize for what happened a couple of months ago. It was rude to leave in the middle of our Hogsmeade trip," I paused to gather in his reaction. His face was blank. He was staring at me, but I couldn't read anything from his expression. "I'd like to tell you that I'm sorry and nothing that you did caused me to leave. It was another issue that I was dealing with at the time but is now resolved."

God, I sounded like I fucking practiced this. Which I didn't. Obviously. But I didn't want Dean to think that I cared about him enough to practice an apology to him! He already liked me enough (though maybe not much anymore after my treatment to him) without adding to the fact that I spent effort and time… oh, whatever. I needed to stop analyzing situations so much.

He smirked. "Oh, it's alright, Ginny. I'm way over that. I get it."

"Get what?" I just hate it when people act like they know something you don't know. I hate it when people smirk and say cryptic things like I get it. Because then I have to decode and pry it out of them.

His smirk grew wider. "You were mad at Potter."

I felt my face scrunch. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Confusion, anger, annoyance, incredulity…

"So?" I bit out.

And he walked away, leaving his stupid smirk in place. Looking back, I wish I'd had the chance to smack that cheeky grin off of his face.

I was mad. I mean, who the fuck does he think he is to act like Mr. Supreme? All cocky, and grinning like a cheeky nymph. Like he knows a dirty little secret that others can't know, but he flaunts it.

Here I was, fishing out him an apology from the corners of my heart. And he acted like an arrogant Andy. I almost prefer Mr. Sadistic over Mr. Supreme. At least the former's honest. Sweet but weird my ass.

A/N: My friend's in New York on a ski trip. It's Thanksgiving break though.

This was more of a filler chapter. I had to get down to what happened with Dean, or else there would be some plot holes I'd rather avoid.

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