Ginny had been unusually distant for most of the day, and Greg didn't know whether something else had happened, or if it was because he had diverted their conversation this morning in such an obvious way.
He could have kissed her. He knew he could have. She had definitely been flirting with him, and if he had just leaned in a tiny bit…
But it hadn't felt right. Not after a day like yesterday. Not when she was feeling vulnerable and confused and the chances of her regretting it afterwards were far too high. So instead he had pushed the brakes on her flirting by making a stupid joke. Of course, it had been an outright lie – Ginny didn't snore at all – but the accusation had been enough to break the tension between them and redirect her focus to where it should be – her family.
What he hadn't expected, was that Ginny would be so distant afterwards, and he couldn't deny that her behaviour had thrown him a little of kilter. He was beginning to wonder if he had misjudged her. That maybe his poor attempt at banter had truly upset her.
So after trying to distract himself with another one of Bill's books and failing miserably, he decided to take a page out of the Gryffindor handbook, gather up all his courage and address the problem head on.
He didn't have to search long until he found her on one of the lopsided balconies on the fourth floor, a handknitted throw wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and her breath forming great billowing clouds in front of her face, as she stared out across the snow-covered fields, seemingly deep in thought.
Greg opened the balcony door tentatively, a steaming mug of tea as a peace offering in his hand, and cleared his throat.
Ginny jumped at the sound, and her head snapped into his direction, before she realised who it was and visibly relaxed.
"Oh, hi." She breathed, her lips tilting into a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Brought you some tea." Greg answered as a way of greeting and held the cup out for her to take. She accepted it gratefully, and Greg was relieved to see that her smile grew a little brighter, as she wrapped both hands around the mug and let out an appreciative sigh.
"You okay?" he asked, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "You've not been around much today."
"Yeah, I'm fine." The redhead shrugged. "Just a lot on my mind at the moment."
"Okay…" Greg conceded, not feeling convinced in the slightest. They fell into an awkward silence and he was half thinking he should probably leave her to it and just go inside, before he froze to death out here; when she let out a deep sigh and looked up.
"Actually." She said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "I was wondering if you'd like to come to Diagon Alley with me in a couple of days? Once the weather has calmed down a bit, I mean. There's something I need to do, but I don't want my mum to know about it."
Greg's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but in that moment, he was so glad that she wasn't trying to push him away anymore that he didn't dare ask any questions.
"Err, sure?"
"Great." Ginny beamed up at him. "Thank you."
He declined his head to indicate that it was no bother at all, his lips tilting into a benevolent smile, before he turned away to look out across the snowy landscape.
"So…" He said, unable to suppress a shiver "How long have you been sitting out here?"
He couldn't believe that someone would choose to stay out here for longer than a few seconds. It was absolutely freezing, and the wind was harsh and unforgiving that high up in the air.
"A while." Ginny shrugged, and he could practically feel her scrutinizing gaze on him. "But in contrast to you," she added, getting up to stand next to him. "I am dressed for the occasion."
She quirked a supercilious eyebrow and nodded towards his jumper. "What's this made of?" She asked, an amused quiver in her voice. "Mooncalf hair?"
Greg looked down at himself, confused.
"Err… I'm not sure actually. It was a gift from my parents."
It was an expensive piece of clothing that had probably cost more than Ginny's whole wardrobe combined, but the intricately woven fabric was rather thin.
"Well, whatever it is." Ginny laughed, grabbing the hem of his jumper and rubbing it between her thumb and index finger as if to test its strength "It's certainly not warm enough for this kind of weather. Come with me." She pushed herself off the balcony railing and walked towards the door. "There must be a Weasley jumper somewhere, that will fit you."
Eager to get back inside, Greg followed her without protest, and let her lead him downstairs to where the remaining boxes of winter clothing were stacked up in a corner of the living room.
"Let's see…" She said, hands already deep inside one of the boxes. "A lot of these will be too small for you, but I'm sure there'll be something…Aha!"
The young witch let out a triumphant laugh, as she leaned over and fished something out of the box.
"Oh this is perfect." She giggled, holding the piece of clothing up against Greg's chest to gauge if it would fit him.
It was a hideous thing, - big and knobbly, and a ghastly shade of pink that reminded him terribly of Professor Umbridge, their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from fifth year, who always wore pink and seemed to have a fondness for particularly ugly knitted cardigans.
"It's…very pink." He said, unable to hide his disgust.
"It is." Ginny agreed, a mischievous glint in her honey-gold eyes. "That's why no one else wanted it. …Clashes with the Weasley hair." She ran her fingers through her fiery mane as if to prove her point. "I think it would go really well with your hair, though." She added, a coy expression on her face, as she batted her eyelashes innocently. "I bet you'd look absolutely dashing in it."
Greg narrowed his eyes at her. So they were playing that game now, were they?
"Fine." He said, refusing to take the bait. He knew she was waiting for him to protest, but he wasn't going to give her that satisfaction. Instead, he feigned confidence and trained his features into a haughty smirk, as he took his own jumper off, and plucked the hideous thing out of her hands. "I'm sure I can pull it off."
Ginny's eyes widened in surprise as she watched him pull the scratchy fabric over his head and down his chest; and he felt a small pang of triumph when he noticed her hungry expression, as her eyes roved slowly across his now pink and knobbly chest.
He knew he must have looked absolutely ridiculous, but something about it seemed to appeal to her. He could tell by the way her pupils dilated and her tongue flicked out to lick her lips; a light flush sweeping across the bridge of her freckled nose.
"Like what you see?" He had to fight down a chuckle, as he took in her flustered appearance; a pleased, almost proud feeling rumbling in his stomach, as he puffed out his chest and flashed her a smug grin.
Ginny nodded her head as if in a trance, before she realised how she was ogling him and flushed an even deeper shade of red.
"It… uhm… it suits you." She said, cheeks flaming as she stepped closer and ran a tender hand across his chest. "Your first Weasley jumper." She added and her lips tilted into a serene little smile. "Now you're officially one of us."