A/N: Woot! It's the second installment in GWANRD! (It'll catch on). I hope you enjoy! Read and Review, please!
Disclaimer: Jo's the queen of this sandbox; I just deign to mess around in it.
August 28, 1995, 15:30pm, The Chambers of Ms. Ginevra Weasley (aka my room)
We got home about an hour ago. After the 'My Brothers are Huge Prats' debacle, I am never speaking to them again, so we are back to the beginning:
I have nothing to do.
I could be a dear and write to Dean, but I'm not sure I will. He sent me that owl three weeks ago, it'd be weird to write back now. Scratch that.
I could do my holiday homework… tempting, but no.
I could sit in my room and pretend to be invisible…
Ding, Ding, Ding! I think we have a winner!
I wonder where Arnold is? I saw him this morning, and Pygmy Puffs can't move that fast can they?
Ugh, that'll be Hermione at the door. I'll just set this under the bed with my Quick-Quotes Quill. You'll want to hear this.
Dialouge:
"Hey, Ginny."
"What do you want?"
"Don't be rude, I just came to see how you were."
"I'm fine. I'm always fine."
"Your brothers were really rude in Diagon Alley. I would have been mortified."
"I'm sure you would've."
"Oh, don't be stupid, I know you were."
"So, what if I was?"
"So, nothing. I told Ron and Harry they were idiots. Fred and George, too."
"Thanks. Harry didn't do anything, though."
"Oh? He'd usually join in on this kind of thing. I wonder…"
"What do you wonder? What's that face all about?"
"What's that scratching noise?"
"Probably Arnold. Don't change the subject. What do you wonder?"
"Well… you can't tell anyone this, Ginny. Swear on the Holyhead Harpies. Swear on Gwenog Jones' grave."
"But…but…"
"No buts! Swear!"
"Fine. I swear."
"Well I…I…IthinkarryLIKESyou."
"What?"
"I. Think. Harry. Likes. You. I'm not sure he knows it yet, but I'm pretty sure he…likes you"
"Harry? As in, Harry, Harry? As in, you know…Harry?"
"No, I said Gary, sludge-for-brains. OF COURSE Harry, Harry."
"Well. No need to be rude about it."
"I just thought you should know."
"How does this pertain to the Incident at Fortescue's?"
"Oh. He's afraid, in what little, tiny part of his brain that knows the truth, that that's what your brothers will do to him when they find out."
"And how is this supposed to cheer me up?"
"I… I thought you liked…"
"I did. But now I'm dating Dean. I can't just dump him for Mood-Swing Harry, who may or may not kind of, sort of like me in some tiny, insignificant portion of his brain."
"Well, that's all I have to say here. But, remember- I just want the two of you happy."
"That was weird. Quick Quotes Quill, off-
Wow. Um… I'm gonna write to Dean now.
August 28, 1995, 23:00pm, Approaching our eight straight hour in Ginny's room.
You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.
You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.
You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.
You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.
You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.
You do not…
Oh, what the hell. I seriously regret denying dinner five hours ago. That was perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever done.
Stupid Ginny. Stupid Ginny. Stupid Ginny…
WAIT! It's eleven o'clock, isn't it? Everyone was in bed by nine (the losers), so they're probably all asleep, right?
Time for Operation: Nick a Nutella Sandwich from the Kitchen Before Anyone Notices.
August 28, 1995, 23:30. Back in Ginny's room.
Oh. My. God.
Ohmygod.
…
Okay. I'm breathing. That was…wow. All I can say is:
Harry has morning breath.
August 29, 3:00am. Still in Ginny's room.
Okay. I can't sleep until I write it down.
I went downstairs for my Nutella Sandwich. I guess I was making a lot of noise or something, because about fifteen minutes in, someone comes tromping down the stairs. Naturally, I thought it was my mother, so naturally I ran and hid in the cupboard.
But apparently it was not my mother, and apparently the person it was saw me come in here. I could hear them plodding towards my cupboard, so I grabbed a baguette and prepared myself.
Because really! What else is a girl supposed to do?
The figure opened the door really slowly. Slowly enough that I had just enough time to bonk him on the head with my baguette.
"Sodding hell! What are you doing in the cabinet, Ginny?"
I recognized the voice immediately.
"Oh god, Harry, I'm sorry. It thought you were a Death Eater, come to brutally steal our spices. God. I'm sorry."
He looked up at me, his eyes bleary and hair much untidier than usual, and said "How can you steal spices brutally?"
With this, I had to sit on the floor and laugh. Quietly, of course. Only Harry would correct my ad-verbiage in a moment like this.
By now, he was laughing, too. There were the two of us, sitting on the floor, laughing like goons.
"You're odd" he said. His face was just a little too close to mine.
I smiled "Yeah, I've been told."
And then he kissed me. Just like that, he kissed me. No prequel, no 'Hey, heads up Ginny, I'm going to snog you, even if you do have a lovely boyfriend who lives in the same room as me for three quarters of the year, so how could I possibly not notice?'
Okay, I guess I didn't expect that. Not after I ran off like I did.
Bloody hell, do you know what this means?
Hermione was right.