Dear Readers (ahem...Natasha :o),
I am greatly indebted to you for your unstinting support...however (please don't shoot me:o),I began this tale with the express wish to stay as true to Rowling's characters (as I interpreted them) as possible. Truthfully, I intend(ed) this to be a Harry-Ginny pairing, since I was sure the two would end up together in the books (this being several years ago). Therefore, I would feel it terribly wrong of me to have Ginny and Ryan do anything that would contradict Ginny's loyal affection for Harry. I'm extremely sorry to be shattering any expectations in that department. I can promise you that there are, despite the lack of you-know-what, some really wicked scenes left with the pair of them, if that provides any consolation.
I will sincerely try to update at a swifter pace!
Gnomes :o)
"BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOODY HEEEEEEELL!"
Half a second later, Bill apparated into Ginny's room, eyes half-shut, hair tousled, wearing only a pair of shorts splattered with smiling-frowning-laughing faces, depending on their mood.
"Whasamatta?"
Ginny turned from the mirror to face him, horrified.
"I've got a ZIT!" she wailed. She pointed her forefinger to the left side of her chin, where sat a tiny, hardly noticeable little red bump. "I can't go to the banquet, Bill. I just can't!"
For those of you who are well-acquainted with Ginny by now know that she would never normally make a fuss over such a trifling. But then you may not be aware of the insomnolence she suffered from the night before, not due to any physical pain (Nurse Dawes had mended her broken bones properly after the game), but because of Harry Potter. The thought had struck her precisely as she pulled the delicious cover up right below her chin and sought sleep after experiencing the most gratifying day of her existence: Harry had not been sincere.
It all made total sense, really. Come to say hi, my foot! He had come to check up on the Firebolt, to ascertain if it was still in working order. She couldn't believe her naivety in believing otherwise. And what about all the blob about being happy she was using his dear Firebolt? He must have only said it only to squelch Ryan, who had been behaving quite peculiarly. Or maybe he was happy, in a way, because her using the broomstick in an important Quidditch match must mean it was in excellent shape... and as for his little pep talk, well. Ginny's face burned as it pressed against her pillow, her eyes wide open in the utter blackness. Obviously, he hadn't meant a word of it. He had merely seen before him this pathetic little girl who had stolen his Firebolt, wriggled her way unto a Quidditch team on the pretense of being a seeker, and who was now panic-stricken because pretending wasn't fun anymore- now that the Cup was on the line- and he had pitied her.
Of course he pitied you, she thought, groaning inwardly. He's famous Harry Potter, who half the school is mad in love with. A celebrity with heart...how revoltingly perfect could a person be, already! Very likely, he was at this moment confiding in his beloved Cho, mourning the day he had shipped the Firebolt off to The Burrow. And Cho was probably comforting him, saying, "How could you have known she was a sneaky little liar?". Ginny punched the mattress with her fists. Ooooh, I hate her! I hate her! she thought savagely, tossing around in mental agony.
It was as she was contemplating suicide (purposely falling off the Firebolt from fifty feet up in the air seemed the most appropriate way to go about it) that the voice of Reason came to her rescue. There was no point in dwelling on the matter, which would in time be settled after she returned home. There were less than forty-eight hours remaining to her visit; it therefore made terrific sense to channel her 'Mad about Harry' energy into maximizing her time left in Australia. And so, at approximately 7:08 in the morning, Ginny concluded that as far as the Banquet was concerned, she meant to exert herself to the extreme- she was going to look as flawless as she possibly could. Hence, the concern about the zit.
"From Quidditch champ to drama queen," Bill said, shaking his head at her in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, yawning. "Blimey, I don't get women. And where'd you learn to swear like that?"
"I picked it up from Ron, and Ron picked it up from you, remember?"
Bill grinned sleepily.
"Like a sponge that one. Remind me not to look too proud when I'm home for Christmas."
"Right. Well, Ren's picking me up, we're going to get ready for the banquet. Maybe she can help me get rid of the monster."
Bill checked his watch.
"Uh, Gin, I dunno if you've realized...it's 8:00 in the morning."
"I know," Ginny said, exasperated. "There's hardly time. And now with this crisis..." She pointed to her chin.
"I'm...uh, going back to bed," he said, inching out of the room. "I'm only going to work for a couple of hours today, thanks to the banquet 'n all, and I'm really, really tired..."
The doorbell sang.
"I'll get it!" they said simultaneously. Ginny smirked at him.
"What?" asked Bill defensively. "She was my friend first."
"Apres-vous, then."
Bill opened the door, and there Lauren stood, radiant as ever. She gazed at Bill's lack of attire and averted her eyes.
"Lord, I'm sorry. I didn't wake you?" she asked him, blushing.
"No way, I've been up for hours," Bill lied, quite blatantly. "Just about to go to work, actually."
"With...out clothes on?"
Ginny couldn't help giggling.
"Liar, it's Sunday. I woke him up," she told Lauren. "Come in, I'm just about ready."
Ginny purposely took her time, leaving her bedroom door open just a crack as proper eavesdroppers do.
"So, have you confirmed with Barnop's 'n everything?" Bill was asking Lauren.
"Yeah, I did. They said everything was gonna be delivered promptly."
"Oh, well, that's good. You know Barny and Patty, they don't miss anything, those two."
Ginny rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her brother- why wasn't he opting for a less conservative conversation? But as Ginny continued to listen, she realized her stalling was in vain. They spoke about stupid things: the banquet, how he was sorry he couldn't come to her parents' anniversary, that if she wanted he would come over to help her beforehand; how she wouldn't hear of it, because she didn't want him to be late, and so forth. Horribly, wretchedly boring, Ginny thought. She knew how Bill felt, and she was almost certain Lauren felt the same, perhaps even more so.
What is wrong with the world, she wondered, exasperated. If you like someone, why don't you just tell them!
Practice what you preach, a little voice inside her piped up.
I sent him a Valentine's Day card, she retorted.
Anonymously.
Thanks to Malfoy, everyone knew I'd sent it, Ginny reminded the voice glumly.
Well, have you done anything similar since you were eleven?
I...oh, shut up. I can't believe I'm arguing with my conscience.
And losing.
Going now!
And with that, she grabbed some money, thrust it in her right trouser pocket, and headed out.
---
"Ryan spoke to me about you," Lauren announced.
"He-what? What'd he say?" Ginny asked, trying not to turn her head as Matty, the hippest seventy year-old hairstylist she'd ever met, worked on her.
"Yeah, he didn't say not to tell you what he told me, so I'm tellin' you," Lauren replied smugly.
Ginny turned to stare at her incredulously.
"Babes, don't keep you head facing forward, y'show up to that banquet lookin' like a troll. Gottit?"
"Sorry, Matty," Ginny apologized for the umpteenth time. "I take it back, Ren. I don't care what he said. I'm barely friends with the bloke, so stop trying to make a mountain out of a gnome hill."
"Of course," Lauren continued smiling, ignoring Ginny, "Ry's a proud bloke. He didn't just come straight out and ask me if I thought you liked him."
Ginny whipped her head around.
"Face forward!"
"Sorry Matty." To Lauren, she said, her face tomato in colour, "Rubbish. Ry never told you any such thing. I thought you'd said you wouldn't tease me about him anymore, remember?"
"I'm not teasing you!" Lauren insisted. "He came to me yesterday and asked me if I could convince you to transfer from Hogwarts next year."
"Oh." Ginny sat pensively for a few moments. She shrugged. "So what? He just wants me to join his school team. Thinks I'll help them win more games. And he's already asked me; I told him my mum'd kill me if I even brought it up."
Lauren leaned closer to Ginny.
"Uh, Gin, you may not be aware of this, but you've changed a lot over the past two months. You've grown more confident, taller-"
"Bla, bla, bla...can't hear you!" Ginny cut her off, reddening again. "Soon you'll be saying 'more mature', I know it! Urgk- try not to make me sick."
Lauren laughed.
"I'm only saying, a girl like you doesn't pop into Ry's life every day, or into any guy's for that matter. There are plenty of Nikki Prices, but your type? Scarce, mate. I don't blame him for trying to hold on to what he's got."
Ginny's face matched her hair exquisitely.
---
"Hey, Ren, what do you think of my brother?"
"Your brother?" Lauren asked, practically choking on her sandwich.
"Yeah, you know, Bill? Do you like him?'
Lauren chewed slowly, obviously contemplating an answer..
"I-think very highly of your brother, Ginny," she said once she'd swallowed. "He's the best mate anyone could ask for: funny, unpretentious, generous, and he makes one helluva chokie."
Ginny smiled appreciatively.
"Mmhmm. I don't mean to be impudent," Ginny began impudently, "but why haven't you two hooked up yet?"
Lauren dropped her sandwich on her plate.
"Ginny!"
"What?" asked Ginny the Innocent.
"Your brother doesn't- that is, I'm not- I mean, Bill isn't exactly- the truth is, it's all pretty complicated," was all Lauren could offer.
"So let me see if I've understood correctly; I'm old enough to get teased about Ry, but I'm too young to delve into your emotional and not to mention psychological distress regarding my brother?"
Lauren's jaw slipped several inches open. She sighed, entirely undone.
"When I first met Bill, I liked him right away. As a friend, y'know. He's one of those rare blokes who don't just hear you when you talk- I mean, he really listens. Take right before the summer. He and I went with a few other friends to a pub one night and the subject of Bill's ponytail came up. Jokingly, I asked him if he'd ever thought chopping it off, y'know, that the look might suit him. He seemed thoughtful for about a second, smiled, and that was it. A week later, it was gone."
"So that's how it happened!" Ginny exclaimed in awe. "Congratulations, Ren, you've accomplished something my mum couldn't. MY MUM. That's quite an achievement."
"He just liked the idea," Lauren said, brushed it off. "Listen, Ginny. Your brother is a really loyal friend. That's why he's got so many. He's trustworthy and direct, a rarity in folks nowadays. If he...y'know, liked me any better than other girl friends of his, he'd have said so a long time ago."
Ginny shook her head slowly, with a distinct yet subtle air of superiority.
"Ren," she said gently, "You and my brother are like broom polish and a dusty Firebolt. You make him shine."
Lauren just blushed.
"Come on," Ginny told her, getting up. "You've pampered me long enough. We've got your parents' anniversary to prepare you for."
