The Cerebral Coordination of Ginny Weasley
Rating: T
Author: ValorOrgulloso
Chapter XV: In Which the End is a Cliffhanger
There are little technicalities of a relationship that confuse me a bit, and I don't necessarily believe in all of them.
Like snogging at breakfast. Snogging at breakfast. Couldn't they have the decency to wait until dinner when we actually had food in our stomachs from earlier, so we, I dunno, don't have to sit and watch the disgusting affair? Wasn't PDS banned at Hogwarts? It was disgusting. Harry and I don't snog like two hormonal teenagers... in public.
But here they were; snogging in plain view of everyone; they were practically having an orgy at the breakfast table, what with all the butt-groping.
And the teachers just sit there and ignore it. All through breakfast I could nearly hear the couple's smacking lips and exchanges of saliva and no one does anything about it. Unbelievable. I stared, fascinated. How could anyone be so horny during breakfast? I was tired and barely had enough energy to think of snogging.
I looked over at Harry to see if he was similarly affected by the couple's blatant display of affection, but he was looking over at another couple. I followed his sickened gaze to see a couple of giggling older Gryffindors feeding each other. And the blonde girl was sitting on the brunette boy's lap. Really? Is it really necessary to feed each other little strawberries and pieces of bacon as you cuddle?
I nudged Harry and he glanced over at me before I nodded my head slightly towards the other couple snogging fiercely over at the Ravenclaw table. He followed my head motion, and made a face when he saw them and then quickly looked away.
"Disgusting," he muttered.
"Don't they have any decency?" I murmured quietly, leaning a little closer to Harry so no one else would hear. Hermione and Ron weren't sitting with us, as Ron was stubbornly still angry at Harry. Harry was trying his hardest to act normal and talk to Ron, but Ron ignored him, and I could tell Harry was upset. I would've said something to Ron about it, but I knew Harry would just be embarrassed, so I kept quiet and by Harry's side.
"I don't think so," Harry clarified, sending another look at the snoggers. "Do they ever come up for air, you think? Or do they have gills?"
I laughed. "Maybe. You just sounded like Luna there, you know."
Harry laughed too. "Really? I haven't talked to her since the train ride. How is she?"
"As odd as ever," I answered, thinking fondly of my eccentric friend. "The other day she asked me if I'd recently eaten a giggling pimplefernance. I told her no, why? She said that they made people glow when they're in love, and I was glowing a bright orange."
"Either you're head over heels for this handsome guy named Harry, or your hair was under a light," Harry teased.
"Probably the hair one," I confirmed, and Harry grabbed my side, and I barely contained a shriek as laughter bubbled in my throat. I was rather ticklish. I saw a few students glance our way, and I quickly composed myself.
"Hey, you're wearing my sweater!" Harry said as he observed the material he had just touched.
"Actually, it's my sweater," I argued. "You told me I could have it, therefore making it mine."
Harry rolled his eyes playfully before biting into a piece of toast. I did the same. I loved it when Harry was like this; so happy and carefree and open.
"Hi, Harry, Ginny," I heard two voices say.
I looked up from my plate, eying the twins suspiciously. Lee Jordan was there too, standing quietly behind them. They were standing behind the empty bench across from us. "Fred. George. Lee." Harry murmured a quiet hello and Lee nodded. "What d'you want?" I asked shortly.
"Little sister," I was addressed, and I nearly protested, but I was cut off, "there's no reason to be snotty."
"Anyways, we thought you might want to know one Dean Thomas over there wants to talk to loverboy."
"Why –" I started to ask, but I was cut off once more.
"Hey, we just carry the message, not the reason. Toodles." And Fred and George quickly left the Great Hall, followed by their tall friend. I guess our plan worked; they weren't teasing us anymore – much.
"Wonder what that was all about," I asked Harry, turning to him.
"I dunno. What d'you reckon Dean wants?" Harry asked me.
"Can't be anything good," I said, thinking about my brief conversation with Dean a few weeks back.
Hermione was with me. We were standing outside an unused classroom on the second floor. The door was closed, and I had extendable ears. It was a half an hour before lunch and my boyfriend and Dean were inside the classroom. For a quick "chat."
"Do you really think we should be doing this? It is a private –"
I quickly shushed Hermione. "You worry too much. And besides, this is important. It has to do with me."
"How do you –"
"Shh! I'm listening!" Hermione shut up, and she almost regretfully leaned her head towards the extendable ear.
"… like you?" came Dean's voice. It was rather heated and angry.
"Is this why you called me in here?" Harry asked, sounding incredulous. "To tell me Ginny doesn't like me. That she likes you?"
"Yes," Dean confirmed. I felt a pit of uncomfortable anger simmer in my stomach.
"You're an idiot," Harry said.
"No, that's you. Remember when Ginny went with me to the first Hogsmeade trip?"
"Then left you for me?" Harry cut in.
"That's beside the point. Last month she came to me and practically begged me to take her back."
Hermione and I exchanged incredulous looks. What was this boy on?
"Oh, really? And why are you only telling me about all this 'begging' now?" Harry's voice was laced with annoyance; an annoyance that I wasn't too familiar with. It was somehow different than if he was upset with me. It was colder.
"Because I've decided to take her up on it," Dean said. "And for that to happen, she doesn't want to break your heart and tell you it's over, so I'm doing the dirty work for her. It's over, Potter."
"Thomas, why should I listen to a jealous prick like you?"
"You can't make her happy. She knows this. You're making her miserable. She told me herself."
There was silence for a few minutes. I heard some chairs being scraped against the floor. "Please leave us alone." Harry's voice was cold and hard and there was another element to it that I couldn't place. It sounded like he was frightened, but that didn't make any sense. "You're clearly not thinking straight at the moment if you think I'm going to believe you. If you were in your right mind, you'd realize you sound like a complete imbecile. Goodbye."
Before I had time to extract myself from the door, it burst open. Harry looked down at us. His face was pale, and it went whiter as he saw us. We were crouched, completely still, and holding onto a pink string.
"Harry…" I started. "Harry, you know that's not true."
Harry nodded stiffly, and I saw a brief shift in the background. It was Dean; his back was towards us.
"C'mon," he murmured as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders firmly, almost protectively, and began strolling down the corridor. Hermione trailed beside us a bit unsure. Harry didn't seem to notice she was even there, and he started walking faster. I struggled not to stumble as he pulled me along. Hermione struggled to keep up.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted as we pulled around a corner.
Harry didn't stop, so I did. When his death grip on my shoulders nearly caused me to fall as he kept walking, he caught me. He held me tightly, and I was about to berate him for acting so ridiculously, but the look in his eyes made me stop short. It was something akin to fear. To what, I don't know. My breath hitched; his fear confused me, and I started to panic when the look didn't go away.
Hermione, who didn't see the look, spoke up and said "Harry, what has gotten into you?"
He turned his face towards Hermione, and, not letting me go, leaned towards her to whisper almost silently, "We need to get to the Headmaster's office. Now. There's no time to explain. Trust me."
Hermione saw the look and nodded, for once keeping quiet, glancing at me quickly. Without another word, Harry, Hermione, and I headed off to the Headmaster's office. We passed a few students, and some of them gave us strange looks as we rushed through the halls.
"Harry?" A voice that made me stop, therefore stopping Harry who had yet to let me go. It was Ron. Hermione quickly ran up to him and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, looked confused, then Hermione gestured for Harry to keep on, Ron in pursuit.
When we got to the gargoyle, Harry looked at Hermione urgently; she was the prefect, or the responsible one, so she knew the password.
"Skitterish Humbugs," Hermione said quietly. The gargoyle jumped to life, letting the four of them pass.
By now Harry could barely contain himself, and he had his arm so tightly wrapped around me it was starting to hurt. Suddenly, he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on the side of my head. I looked at him, confused, and the fear was still written on his face along with worry.
They knocked on the door, and it opened. The headmaster was behind his desk looking through a large book, but when he saw Harry's face he stood up.
"Headmaster, Voldemort kidnapped Dean Thomas and is now after Ginny."
I looked at Harry in shock. This was unexpected.
A/N: You know what cliché I can't stand, and it's in at least seven of the HG stories I've read? The one where Harry asks Ginny to the Yule Ball all like, "Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?" and then Ginny is like, "I'd be honored to go with you as your date. We MUST have matching Gryffindor colored robes. It'll be romantic, and an aura will appear around us as we sweep across the dance floor since we feel so strongly for one another when we dance." And then Harry is all like "I can't dance, I'm gonna go to McGonagall to get lessons since she OBVIOUSLY is amazing at dancing. And I REALLY wanna impress my true love who's totally beautiful." SeriouslyWTF? It's unrealistic and it makes me wanna throw up. A lot of things like that make me wanna throw up. I'm not one for extreme sappiness; angst, yes, overdramatic, yes, but not cheesy formality.
I don't want to make this story too much longer, and it'll end when Ginny finishes her fourth year, or a little after. I don't like writing about people younger than me, even by only a year; when I started this I was fourteen, but now I can almost get my temps (ahhh, I'm gonna be driving this month! I hope I don't kill you on the road because my driving is sure to be awful).
Review please :)