Added A/N: Sorry about the mixup. Another author’s chapter
was posted instead of mine. I apologise for all problems.
Original A/N: Thanks to my beta, Elanor Gamgee, and to my
reviewers. I admit it- I’m American. Could you tell because of the cookie
comments? I apologise to those who refer to them as biscuits. I hope the
comments don’t bother any readers too much. Thank you.
Chapter Three: What Can I Say
Other than I Love You?
“Keep the poem,
huh?” Fred said under his breath as Ginny walked away. “Hmmm...” His eyes lit
up in realization. “This poem is exactly the push they need.” He turned on his
heel and headed for Ron’s room.
Ron called out, sticking his head into his room. Where is Harry? He
turned to look further but stopped when a piece of parchment on his bedside
table caught his eye. He walked quickly over to it and nearly fell onto his bed
“What is this?
Who… who? Oh…” Ron muttered, his eyes transfixed on the words. “Hermione, oh…”
And now you know how I feel.
Has she always
felt this way? Surely she can’t
“What am I
saying? This is terrific!”
back and forth in Ginny’s room, her wet hair dripping onto her T-shirt.
“What to do… what
to do?” she said out loud, thinking.
“What to do about
what?” asked Ginny, entering the room.
hesitated, indecisive, “I’m pretty sure Ron likes me.”
“Really? I don’t
doubt it. So what are you going to do?” asked Ginny, jumping on the bed so that
she lay facing her roommate.
“That’s just it,”
Hermione said as she slid down the wall and sat on the floor, her legs gathered
in. “I have no idea about what I should do. Let him down easy, I guess.”
Ginny raised an
eyebrow quizzically. “Is that what you want to do?”
“Yes! No… maybe.”
Hermione let her words hang in the air between the two.
“Maybe you should
talk to him about it, get his feelings on the matter. Anyway, what makes you
think that he likes you?”
“Well… oh, it’s
nothing really,” said Hermione with a shrug of her shoulders.
“To be honest
with you, I think there’s something in the water here.”
puzzled and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, Harry sort
of said that he had feelings for me…” Ginny trailed off.
What do you plan on doing?”
“Oh, I don’t
know. I actually thought I’d let him down easy,” she said with a laugh. Her
expression changed suddenly and she looked down sorrowfully at her fading
bedspread of yellow daisies.
Hermione said softly, coming close to her bed and raising Ginny’s chin. “You do
what your heart tells you to.”
Ginny nodded and
gathered her friend in a tight hug. “You too, Hermione, you too.”
Harry, slightly annoyed, as he entered the kitchen through the back door. Its
hinges squeaked as they settled back in place.
“Oh, never mind,”
said Ron gloomily, his face falling.
“No, really, I’m
listening,” Harry said as he pulled out a weathered chair from the large
“I said never
Harry felt his
skin grow hot and his head begin to throb with anger. He took a calm breath and
swallowed his anger before getting up and plodding up the stairs. Ron watched
him leave with a mixture of emotions, mostly anger and a need for someone to
Weasley pushed in the kitchen chair that was left in the middle of the kitchen,
pulled out from the table. She sighed, reached a hand to her hair and glanced
at the empty plate where a pile of cookies had once been stacked. Now all that
was left was crumbs. Good, she thought, Arthur found the poem.
picked up the plate and placed it in the sink. She bent over to pick up an
abandoned cookie that lay on the floor. Picking it up, she felt a compelling
reason to wash the dish that she had placed in the sink by hand and did so, turning
on the tap and grabbing a bar of soap from inside a cupboard. She began to sing
an old Irish song under her breath.
“Over in Killarney, many years ago,
Me Mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty, in her good old Irish
grabbed a dishtowel from a rack nearby and dried the plate. Opening the
cupboard, she placed the plate inside. She stopped and stared out the window at
the weed-trodden back garden still singing quietly.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry!”
toward the back door, thinking of her husband and of their time at Hogwarts.
She sat down on the mossy cobblestones, the tune echoing in her mind, and she
counted the immense number of blessings she had been given.
Can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry asked seconds after he left Ron,
sticking his head inside the girls’ bedroom after knocking. Ginny sat on her
faded bedspread, her knees gathered inward. She was facing Hermione who lay
cross-legged at the head of Ginny’s bed.
nodded and exchanged looks with Hermione. She sat up and scooted off of her
bed, her hair dipping down as she did. Harry caught his breath.
followed Harry out into the hallway where they stood for a few moments both
is my favorite kind of cookie?” Harry asked quickly, his face blank and
what do you mean?” Ginny replied, backing up and leaning against the wall.
appeared on Ginny’s face as Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her upright. He
said simultaneously as he dropped her hand, “Ginny, my favorite kind of cookie
is chocolate chip.”
hands lay limp by her sides. She nodded.
how do you know that?”
she didn’t answer, he repeated, “Ginny, how do you know that?”
you’re acting really strange,” Ginny murmured.
me!” Harry said, equally quiet but with an underlying force such as that made
Ginny’s stomach knot.
told me last summer,” Ginny’s voice wavered.
with me.” And with that Harry grabbed the same hand that he had dropped, but
this time forcibly, and pulled Ginny after him and down the stairs. Ginny had
no option but to follow, a frown deeply set on her face and betrayal in her
sat down at the kitchen table across from Harry.
he began… “I don’t know what to think. On one hand I… I’m honored, but on the
other hand… I don’t know….” Harry trailed off.
are what? Rude? Vulgar? Disrespectful? Ignorant? Disappointed? Foolish? Angry?
Frustrated? Afraid?” she listed, the adjectives turning to describe her own
I don’t understand!”
just it. You don’t understand…” Ginny trailed off.
Can we leave it at that?” Harry asked puzzled.
Excuse me,” Ginny replied with a forced smile, her insides still smarting from
the insult of the situation, “I’m sorry.”
alright,” he answered. “Can we mark this off as P… PMS then?”
that’s right. It’s just PMS.”
with Ginny’s answer, Harry smiled what he thought was sympathetically, but was
more than anything queasy and a bit confused. He sort of backed out of the
kitchen awkwardly and headed once again for the back door.
Weasley got to her knees and brushed off her rump before heading back into the
house. The last lines of the song came back to her then and she sang them
sweetly, enjoying the moment.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, That's an Irish lullaby.”
She finished off
softly. She passed Harry, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder upon seeing
the worried look he wore. She entered the kitchen and stopped quickly upon
seeing her daughter’s head resting in her arms on the table, and the shaking of
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, That's an Irish lullaby.”
swept towards the child and brought Ginny close in a tight hug.
“Oh, Mum,” Ginny
whispered, tears streaming down her face and lightly salting her lips.
Mrs. Weasley said, rocking her daughter slightly in comfort, “hush now don’t
you cry. Hush now don’t you cry…”