Antithesis
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Harry Potter, except a little bit of merchandise.
Notes: Sorry, sorry, sorry! Sooooo sorry! I was super busy with school and had the worst writer's block this summer and then school again and… well, I won't bore you anymore with my silly, unacceptable excuses; I know you'd rather be reading the chapter.
Chapter Three: Fighting Fiasco
After the rather embarrassing events surrounding Harry's arrival, Ginny expected all signs of nervousness to completely disappear. After all, with a greeting as absolutely appalling as hers had been, what with the sleeping and the dropping and the almost falling followed by that all-too-mushy-for-someone-who-is-just-a-friend hug, how could things possibly get any worse? And if things couldn't get worse, she shouldn't be nervous, right?
She really should have known better than to challenge fate like that. With the luck she'd been having, really, she should have known better.
She hated that Murphy and his stupid law.
To begin with, her nerves did not go away; they got worse. She could hardly even sit in the same room with Harry without feeling nauseous, the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering so much. And she couldn't seem to keep a blush off her face. From the moment that hug had ended…well, that had really been the beginning of the end for her day, hadn't it?
Hugging Harry had been amazing (she didn't even want to think about why), so it took her several moments, standing there in his arms, safe and comfortable (no, she wasn't going to think about those thoughts either!) to realize that she was still standing in his arms! With her head on his shoulder no less! She had blushed furiously, of course (she couldn't seem to help that at all anymore—stupid fair skin!), and had backed out of his embrace rather awkwardly. Luckily her brothers were still so involved in their fight that none of them had noticed. Unfortunately, the fight which she had all of two seconds to be grateful for had moved closer to where she and Harry were standing during the duration of their friendly little hug, and the foot which had only failed to bring her to the ground the first time because of Harry's intervention was phenomenally successful in its second attempt. With a particularly aggressive snarl, Ron threw himself across Charlie in an effort to repay Bill for a jab to his side and managed to sweep his sister clean off her feet with one flailing leg in the process. With a loud yelp, Ginny went flying head first into the writhing mass of testosterone and landed with uncanny precision directly on Charlie's stomach.
"Oof!" exclaimed her second favorite brother, shifting sharply beneath the sudden weight that forced all the air from his lungs and causing his sister to lean right into the arm he was flailing in an attempt to balance their awkward position. Wincing at the feel of his hand connecting with the side of her head, she sat up to gingerly test the damage done.
Just in time to receive a sharp blow from an elbow to her ribs as Ron scrambled to escape Bill's revenge.
And the retaliatory punch Bill had been aiming at Ron's face before Ginny's got in the way.
Ginny was already sporting the beginnings of a spectacular black eye by the time the four siblings got themselves sorted out, not to mention a bruised rib or two and a very large lump on the side of her head, she was sure. Ignoring all four hands offering her help up from the floor, Ginny struggled to her feet with her hand covering the injured eye, and glared with the other at her three brothers. They were all trying not to laugh even as they asked if she was all right and she batted their half-hearted attempts to comfort her away with an angry vigor. She was determined that she would not break down in tears right then and there despite the pain she was experiencing, but then she caught sight of Harry looking very concerned as he watched the exchange over Ron's shoulder, and realized that he had just witnessed the whole thing. She was mortified, both by the fact that she had been accidentally battered in front of him, and at her brothers' cruel amusement by it, and she felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest that had nothing to do with her injuries. Horrified by the whole situation, she only just refrained from running away, and forced herself to settle for an ice princess façade instead. Lifting her nose into the air imperiously, with both hands at her side (there were sudden gasps all around at the sight of her face), she turned sharply on her heel and made it all the way through the kitchen door before she couldn't hold it in any more and broke down in tears.
Angry tears. Furious tears even.
Furious enough that when she heard her brothers coming towards the door in quick pursuit (the sight of her eye having made them realize that they had actually hurt their beloved baby sister; though how they could have missed it in the first place, honestly…) she thrust a chair up under the knob so that the door that was expected to open easily, in fact, did not.
The brother in the lead (Bill, by the sound of it) slammed (hopefully head first, she thought vengefully) into the door he had expected to open at a touch, and the other two slammed into him, with some rather painful sounding results. Ginny smirked triumphantly at the door through her tears, then turned to assess her situation. She needed to leave, and she needed to do it fast. Two of her brothers, some part of her was calm enough to remember, were old enough to use magic whenever they pleased, and if she stuck around to gloat about the door they'd only manage to convince her they were suitably remorseful about hurting her, and Ginny didn't want to be convinced. They'd broken the Cardinal Rule of the Weasley family: never make Ginny angry.
She was so far beyond angry.
Short of several obvious exceptions during my first year, Ginny thought, this is the worst day of my life. But if I'm going to have a bad day, I'm taking them with me.
And the enraged girl, whose penchant for revenge on a Fred-and-George-at-their-worst level was the inspiration for the Weasley Cardinal Rule, set off in search of her mother.
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The sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed through the house for a good forty-five minutes in retribution for her sons' behavior, and that wasn't including the fifteen minutes she'd spent chasing them down and escorting them to the living room, one by one. The boys, truly concerned about their sister's injuries (once they'd realized she had any) had split up in an attempt to locate her. They had spent some time searching, too, for Molly had taken her daughter straight to St. Mungo's almost as soon as she laid eyes on her, pausing only long enough for Ginny to run up and snag Hermione from their shared room before flooing to the Wizarding hospital. Because her case wasn't really an emergency, Ginny was required to wait before she could see the mediwitch, and her mother took advantage of the forced delay to question her daughter about the cause of her injuries. With a satisfied gleam, Ginny told her the whole story. In detail. Twice. Which gave her mother ample time to really stew over the situation, working herself into an absolute rage as she paced the halls and muttered to herself about what she would do to those boys when she got her hands on them.
By the time they got home an hour and a half later, Mrs. Weasley was absolutely livid.
Ginny, who was listening to the Reckoning with half an ear from her bedroom upstairs, really couldn't be happier.
With a self-satisfied little smirk, Ginny studied her brother's "borrowed" chessboard one final time and came to a decision. "Knight to G5," she commanded over the beautifully resonant sound of her mother's anger.
"Really what were you thinking? I can't believe any sons of mine—""Don't you think setting your mother on them was a bit extreme?" Hermione asked mildly, examining the board in turn. "Castle to H5," she added confidently, and watched as the specified piece moved accordingly and crushed one of Ginny's pawns.
"She's your baby sister, for heaven's sake! You're supposed to protect her, not hit her! Honestly, I don't know how you can live with—"
Ginny shot her friend a disgusted look. "Did you see my eye this afternoon, or did you somehow manage to overlook the gigantic black inflammation it gained after Bill punched it?" She moved her next piece while Hermione looked on in amusement, and Ginny smirked at the other girl in response. "Trust me," she told her, "this is far from over. My brothers have not even begun to make amends for completely humiliating me today." Hermione looked up sharply, a knowing little smile spreading over her face as she examined the redhead distractedly listening to the yelling rise from the living room below.
"And how many times have I told you not to wrestle in the house? How many times?""Only about a thousand!" Ginny answered vehemently. Hermione shook her head and went back to the game, shifting her bishop in preparation to capture Ginny's knight.
"I can't even begin to express how angry I am-""I thought she was doing a pretty good job of it, myself," muttered Hermione with a snicker. Ginny followed her example with a wicked chuckle of her own.
"—ought to get down on your knees and ask her for forgiveness—"
"Ooo! I like where this is going!"
"Ginny!" Hermione giggled.
"—be lucky if she gives it too!"
"Extremely lucky!" Ginny added, thrusting her finger into the air for emphasis and making Hermione laugh outright. "In fact," the red head continued, standing up to glare at the door with her hands on her hips as though it were her brothers standing there instead, "you ought to bow down before me, abasing yourselves whilst you beg for my forgiveness!" Ginny was on a roll now, and she began to pace as she expressed her grand dream of brotherly remorse. Hermione was in hysterics. "And if, miraculously, I'm in a good mood," the younger girl exclaimed, "I might deign to notice you are there! I might even speak to you! 'Leave my presence immediately!' I'll say, and if you obey quickly enough, I might even bother to call you back once I've decided on a suitable punishment. 'Allow me to play with the baby dragons,' I'll command Charlie, 'Bake me all my favorite treats without Mum's help' I'll demand of Bill, and 'Give me all those comfy, cuddly jumpers you've got in your room' I'll order Ron. And of course you shall fall all over yourselves to obey, because you hit me! I still can't believe they did that!" Ginny breathlessly concluded, falling backwards onto her bed as she finished her tirade.
Hermione, still snickering, wiped the tears from her eyes and replied, "It really wasn't on purpose, you know."
"I know. But they did hit me, all three of them. And then they laughed about it. It really hurt too!"
"Not to mention they did all of that in front of Harry," Hermione slyly added. Ginny flung an arm over her face with a groan at the reminder, but Hermione didn't miss the bright flush spreading over friend's cheeks as she did so. There was a speculative look in the older girl's eye as she studied her embarrassed friend, but Ginny missed this glaringly obvious warning because her arm still covered her face. "I think," Hermione added in a neutral tone, "that might possibly have been the worst part."
"Tell me about it. I mean he only just got here, and already I've been utterly humiliated fifty times in front of him!"
"Fifty? You don't think that might be exaggerating a bit?" Hermione drawled, arching an eyebrow at her friend. Ginny came out from beneath her arm long enough to glare at the older girl.
"If it feels like fifty, and believe me it does, then it counts."
"That's a lot of humiliation, Ginny. Do you feel this way every time you get embarrassed, or is it only in front of Harry?"
Ginny's arm dropped away from her face and hit the bed with a thud. "Where are you going with this Hermione?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion.
"I'm just saying, Harry's the only one I've noticed having this kind of affect on you. I'm just wondering if it means anything."
Ginny's eyes narrowed further. "Like what?"
"Well, if I'm going to be entirely honest with you, Gin, and I've heard that honesty is important in friendships, then it looks to me as though there's something going on with you where Harry's concerned."
"Like what?" Ginny's voice came out as a growl this time.
"Well, you dress up for him, you care what he thinks of you, you get embarrassed by things you wouldn't think twice about if they happened in front of other people…it really all points to one thing."
"Granger, if this is going where I think it is, I'm warning you—"
Hermione continued as if Ginny hadn't spoken. "—the blushing, a lot of unnecessary stress…really, Gin, I think you fancy him."
Ginny sat bolt upright. "What?"
"Well, what else could it be?"
"I admit that there might be some…minimal…attraction there…"
"Ah-hah! I knew it!"
"Hermione! He's a good looking boy, even you have to admit that, but that doesn't mean I particularly fancy him."
"But you admit that you find him attractive!"
"Well yes, but—"
"And you can't deny that that attraction extends to more than just his looks, right?"
"I guess that's true, but—"
"For instance, you find yourself drawn to his sense of humor? His intelligence? His kindness to others and his self-sacrificial nature?"
"Well I suppose but—"
"See!"
"See what? Hermione, he's gorgeous and sweet and gentle and funny and what girl wouldn't be attracted to that? But it doesn't mean a thing. He's my friend! Of course I'm going to notice when he's nice enough to stop and help the first years find their classes, or when he looks up and shoots me that smile he reserves only for the people he cares the most about, or when he's absolutely miserable because he has to save the world all on his own but he still makes an attempt to cheer me up if he notices that I'm upset, when the only reason I'm upset is because his sadness is breaking my heart!"
"Ginny—" Hermione was smiling.
"I may notice those things, Hermione, but that most definitely doesn't mean I'm in love with him!"
"Gin—" the smile had become a grin.
"I mean, love involves all those mushy, melty feelings, which I most definitely do not feel. And there's all that staring, and worrying about appearances, and wanting to spend time with them, and putting them before yourself."
"Ginny, I—"
"I am not in love with Harry, okay! What will it take to get that through your head?"
Hermione snickered. "Ginny, nobody said anything about love."
"What?"
Hermione was laughing now. "I simply pointed out that you fancy him. I never said anything about being in love with him."
"I—You—I'm not—What?"
"But," the brunette added between wicked bouts of laughter, "now that I know how you really feel about him…"
"What? What do you mean how I really feel about him? Hermione, you entirely missed the point, I don't feel anything—You know what? I don't have to listen to this. I'm going downstairs to eat cookies. When you've come to your senses, I suppose you can come down and join me." She looked haughtily down at her friend, but when Hermione just continued laughing, she sniffed and left the room.
"Fancy him? Honestly…" she muttered to herself, pounding down the stairs because she liked the sound, and taking the back way to the kitchen because she could still hear her mother scolding her brothers in the living room, albeit in a much quieter voice.
She was still feeling rather disgruntled by the time she reached the kitchen and got settled against the counter with a handful of cookies and an ice-cold glass of milk. She was frustrated with Hermione, and confused by what she had said. In a way it made sense, after all she did get butterflies in her stomach whenever he was around and she had thought about him a lot lately, but really, she had just been concerned for his well-being and she was just glad to see that he was safe, and…and…
And she'd outgrown her little crush on Harry years ago, honestly! There was no way she still felt that way about him. Again. At all.
Right?
Right.
"All right there, Gin?"
"Eep!" And the startled redhead, so immersed in thinking of Harry that she hadn't heard the object of her thoughts enter the room, promptly knocked over her glass of milk with her elbow. Growling wordlessly, she pushed herself away from the counter and began cleaning up, muttering under her breath about stupid boys and their stupid sneaky habits, all the while neglecting to notice exactly which boy it was that had startled her so.
Harry, standing slightly bewildered just inside the doorway, cleared his throat and cautiously ventured to draw attention to himself. "Umm, Ginny?" his voice was tentative but audible, and Ginny stopped in the process of throwing her soiled cleaning rag in the sink to stare at the one who would dare intrude upon her solitude and cause her to make such a mess.
And promptly blushed from neck to hairline.
"Harry! Er…hello?" She offered him a wavery smile and dropped the rag in the sink.
Harry's previously bewildered look had morphed into a cautious but more relaxed expression. "I just wanted to check and see how you were doing," he told her, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the kitchen table, still watching her warily.
"Oh! Um…well, fine I guess," Ginny replied, dropping into a chair across from Harry and blushing again at the thought of him watching her go flying into her brothers and getting smacked. And elbowed. And punched… Ginny winced in embarrassment, then cleared her throat.
"Right." Harry said, catching the expression. "I'm sure your brothers are very sorry."
Ginny growled a little. "No doubt they are," she told him, and continued under her breath, "serves them right, the blighters."
Harry fought to contain a smile at her vindictiveness. "But you do intend to forgive them, right?"
"Eventually," Ginny sniffed.
"Oh good. Ron's going to be bad enough after getting scolded by your mother without having to deal with a guilt complex as well."
"I'm still considering stringing him along a bit, just to warn you."
Harry groaned.
"He hit me, Harry!"
"Can't I just, you know, hit him back for you? Because he deserves it, after all. Wouldn't that be good enough?"
Ginny ignored the warm feeling his words caused in the pit of her stomach and focused on her anger instead. "Nope. Sorry Harry, not good enough." He made a strangled sort of groaning sound in protest, and she looked at him sternly. "He hit me. And he laughed."
"So I should suffer?" He shot her a pathetic, unhappy look. "That's not at all fair."
"Sorry Harry. There's nothing I can do about that." A cool evening breeze blew in through the open kitchen window as she spoke, and Ginny shuddered. Summer or not, evenings were still cold enough to want a jumper most days, and it was getting later than she had thought. Rubbing her arms to rid herself of the goosebumps, Ginny glanced around for a solution.
"Cold, Gin?" Harry sounded amused.
Ginny nodded absently and eyed his jumper-clad torso. It is not my fault he looks so nice in ribbed garments, she told herself when she realized she was not only noticing his jumper, but admiring the way he looked in it. It doesn't mean anything.
"Gin?" Harry was looking at her funny.
"What?" She met his eyes, and hers widened in sudden realization. "Oh! Sorry!" She could feel herself blushing. Stop that! You have absolutely no reason to be blushing in that revolting manner. You've nothing to be embarrassed about. And it clashes with your hair! She frowned. Now what was I thinking about? She shivered again. Right.
Eyeing Harry's sweater once again, Ginny's expression went from thoughtful to cunning in next to no time at all. Seeing this Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Harry," she said, stretching out the sound of his name as she slowly raised her eyes to his. "You know where Ron keeps his jumpers, don't you?"
Harry met her gaze full on, and found himself swallowing nervously for no reason he could fathom.
"Sure, Gin."
"Good. That's very good."
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Ginny was comfortably seated on her window seat, snuggled up in Ron's favorite black jumper and quietly turning the pages of one of Hermione's books when her brothers came in bearing a loaded tray and somber, apologetic expressions.
"Ginny?" She looked up from her book at the sound of Bill's voice, and eyed her brothers warily. "We just wanted to tell you how sorry we were."
"Yeah, we didn't mean to drag you into our fight and hurt you like that," Ron mumbled awkwardly. "We're really sorry."
"Forgive us?" Charlie looked at her with imploring blue eyes and a bit of a pout.
Ginny tried to stay angry while she thought about it. She really did! But she'd had a long time to cool down now, and she loved her brothers, and they looked so upset that she just couldn't do it. So she sighed (because she was annoyed with herself for giving in quite so easily) and met each pair of bright blue eyes (the one thing she had not inherited from her mother, blast it all!) and said, "All right, you're forgiven." Relieved smiles spread across their faces. "On several conditions!" she added, a wicked idea forming in her head. She had been joking earlier, when she'd been talking to Hermione about punishments, but on second thought, some of them had some merit…
"What conditions?" Bill asked cautiously.
Ginny eyed them for a moment, considering. If her demands were too extreme, they would flatly refuse no matter how sorry they were. On the other hand, she couldn't help wondering how far she could push them. Ginny hadn't a genuinely mean bone in her body, but they had hurt her and embarrassed her in front of Harry, and while she was no longer angry, she still felt she deserved some compensation. After a moment, she decided Ron would be the easiest to deal with, and so she started there.
"You," she said, meeting his eyes, "will let me keep this jumper."
Ron's brow furrowed as he looked at his sister practically swimming in his sweater, and cautiously asked, "Why would you want my jumper?"
Ginny was surprised that he was asking as nicely as he was; she had half expected him to blow up at the idea. Upon closer inspection, he was a little red about the ears, but he wasn't even really protesting. He must feel really bad if he was willing to give up one of his favorite jumpers so easily. It made her feel a little guilty, but she was determined. She had always wanted one of Ron's jumpers, any one of them, ever since she was very small. She used to go into his room whenever he wasn't home and snuggle up in them for comfort, especially during that first year he went off to Hogwarts, but she'd always been careful to put them back afterwards. Ron never knew and she hadn't done it since then…but she was still in love with them, and now might be her only chance to get her hands on one rightfully.
"Because they're so comfortable," she told him. "They're big and soft and warm, and they smell like you, and I've always wanted to steal one."
Ron went more than a little red about the ears, and Ginny was fairly certain it wasn't because he was angry this time. Clearing his throat, the embarrassed boy nodded. "S'yours then," he mumbled. She smiled and opened her arms, and he didn't even hesitate to come give her a hug. Striding across the room in three ground eating steps, he sat beside her, swept her off her seat and pulled her half across his lap instead. "I'm so, so, sorry," he whispered to her hair, and she knew by his tone that he'd been killing himself over this all day. She just sat there and hugged him back and told him it was all right, and when he had control over himself again, she kissed his cheek and turned to Charlie.
"I want to play with the baby dragons," she told him without preamble.
"No," he answered, just as quickly.
Ginny sighed. She hadn't thought that would work—baby dragons were really dangerous, as they tended to burp fire at whatever was closest that moved and then try to eat it—but she had thought it worth a shot.
"All right. But I do want to come watch one day when you go back to work, and maybe help with the feeding or something." Charlie looked ready to refuse again, so she quickly jumped in. "Okay not the feeding, but at least let me watch! Come on Charlie, you've been buying me stuffed dragons since I was six, and feeding me stories about dragons at your job since I was ten. You can't tell me you didn't expect this to happen eventually. Please Charlie? I'll follow orders explicitly, and I won't do anything dangerous, really; I just want to see them. Please? Please Charlie?" She looked at him with wide eyes and pouted.
"All right, all right!" Charlie laughed, "I give in! You can come see the dragons. But!" he said loudly, holding up a finger to forestall her shout of joy. "You have to promise—promise—to do what you're told. I'm not kidding, Ginny! No brave stunts, no 'But I just wanted to get closer to see them better,' nothing like that. Got it?"
"I promise," she breathed excitedly.
"All right then. I'll have to clear it with my boss first, but if he okays it, you can come."
"Yes!" she cried, jumping up and running to give him a hug too. After his apology, and her reassurances, she finally faced Bill.
This one was a bit harder. Her request for Bill was actually something she'd been thinking about for a while now, but she hadn't known how to ask without causing him to fly off the handle about it. She really didn't want to dampen the mood this way, but really, this was probably her best chance to get what she wanted from him with the least amount of fuss. After all, he owed her.
"Bill," she began slowly, thoughtfully, "I want to learn more about defensive magic, and I want you to teach me."
Surprised, Bill looked about to question her, but Ginny continued before he could. "There's going to be a war soon, and you're off your rocker if you think I'm just going to sit on my bum in safety rather than be a part of it." All three of her brothers opened their mouths to protest, but she cut them off. "I'm not going to run about shouting hexes and pretending to be an auror, if that's what you think," she told them, "but I do intend to become a mediwitch. I'm already studying with Madam Pomfrey, and I seem to have a knack for it. But even I know it's not the safest job; in wartime, mediwitches tend to work in the field, and I think it…prudent…to know some good defensive spells on the off chance something happens. You work for the Order, Bill, and you break curses for a living; you've got to know tons about this kind of thing. Will you teach me?"
Her oldest brother eyed her hesitantly and ran a hand through long red hair, mussing his ponytail. "You seem to have this all planned out," he told her, stalling for time while he thought about it. He exchanged looks with Ron and Charlie, then studied her for a long moment, eyes hard, and nodded once. "I'll teach you everything I know," he told her fiercely. "And then I'll look up some more and teach you those too. By the time I'm done, there won't be a spell in existence you can't defend against, save one."
"I don't intend to run across that one," she whispered.
"No one ever does," he answered, then pulled her into a tight hug. "But you'll be as safe as I can make you."
"Thanks, Bill."
"Aw!" cried Charlie. "Group hug!"
"No!" Ginny shouted, her voice muffled by Bill's shoulder. "Charlie, Ron, no! No!" But to no avail. Ron hit them first and about knocked the breath out of Ginny when his chest hit her back. Charlie was only a second behind him, slamming into their sides and wrapping his arms as far around the outside of the group as he could. Ginny, smooshed in the middle, could hardly breathe with all the pressure on her ribs, but somehow, now that she was surrounded by the brothers she loved so much, she could hardly bring herself to care. She didn't know how long it lasted, whether two minutes or ten, but it didn't seem long enough when they finally pulled away.
"Come on, Gin," said Charlie, taking her hand and leading her back to her window seat. He set a tray piled high with her mother's aromatic cooking on her lap. "We figured that since we caused you to miss dinner, the least we could do was make it up to you."
She looked up at them as they sat down around her and gave them a watery smile. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you."
"We deserved it Gin, now eat your dinner."
Happily, Ginny complied.
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I know it's kind of short, and certainly over due, and I apologize. I have few excuses (see note preceding chapter). I also have to apologize because it will be at least mid to late December before I can update again. I have a huge project due the last day of the semester and I need to be working on that, and I'm not sure where I'm going next with this (again, the writer's block thing). But it's been a year (Oh my gosh!) since my last update, and I thought I ought to get this out. I promise to work hard on chapter four once the semester ends though. In the meantime please accept my sincerest apologies, and have a good Thanksgiving.