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February 10th. 1500 hours. Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom.
“I think you'll agree with me,” she
began, “that the success of an operation of this magnitude hinges first and
foremost on knowing one's enemy.” The speaker looked at her companion for
agreement, and upon receiving a slight nod, continued.
“It's a dirty, filthy job, and I'll be
the first to admit that there aren't many of us who can handle delving this
deeply into their minds...” her
words trailed off, and her eyes closed briefly as she realized just what they
were about to undertake....
February 7th. 1721 hours. The Library.
Hermione Granger looked up from her
book and wearily rubbed her eyes. “Is there anything?” Ginny Weasley asked
softly, her face anxious.
“No,” replied Hermione. “Nothing,” She
sighed softly and rested her hand on her head. “I don’t know what to do.” she
said, her voice frustrated. “And I won’t let this happen. Never
again.” Ginny reached across the table and took her friend’s hand.
“It’ll be okay, Hermione,” she said quietly,
so as not to anger Madame Pince. “We’ll find
something. I know it.” She dropped her friend’s hand and looked back to her
book. Minutes passed, each girl flipping rapidly through the thick books that
lay on the table.
“Wait a moment,” Ginny whispered
excitedly. “Here! This is it, Hermione, this is it!” Hermione looked over
Ginny’s shoulder and read the book’s title: Splinched, Severed, and Stunned: Ten Totally True (Maybe) Tales.
“Ginny, how on earth is
a book of urban legends going to help us?” she asked, exasperated.
Ginny smiled slowly. “I think,” she
said with a grin tickling the corners of her mouth, “I have a
February 10th. 1507 hours. Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom.
Hermione paced around the room, avoiding
the puddles on the floor. “So, are all the operatives ready for their part?”
she asked. Ginny began to answer, but a muffled voice from the U-bend of a
toilet interrupted, “That’s just fine! Barge into my bathroom as if you own the
place, and don’t even have the decency…” There was the sound of muted sobbing,
as the voice muttered, “Didn’t want to be an ‘operative’ anyway. They’ll both
be sorry…the things I could’ve told them about Draco Malfoy’s...” Ginny rolled her eyes and cut Myrtle
off, “Hermione, can we stop the military talk, please? Besides,” Ginny
continued, “My mother and brother are hardly operatives. And neither is Ali,
for that matter.”
Hermione stopped pacing. “Sorry,
Ginny,” she said. “But I can't go through last year again. Honestly, what kind
of boyfriend forgets Valentine's Day?” she asked, sounding slightly crazed.
“'Do you know how much Parvati and Lavender teased me about that? It was
Ginny tried to comfort her friend.
“It'll be okay, Hermione,” she said soothingly. “He won't forget this year.
We're making certain of that.”
“'You don't know what it was like! Listening to Parvati and Lavender prattle on and on about wooonderful Dean and peeeerfect
Seamus!” Hermione was verging on hysterical. “I am not getting a dirty,
shriveled, blight-infested flower from the greenhouse at this time,” she said dangerously. “I
don't care if it was the day of that horrid Potions exam. Like he even was
worried about that,” she seethed. “You'd better hope that Harry's better than
Ron about these things, Ginny,” Hermione added darkly.
Ginny pursed her lips. “He's not going
to forget, if I can help it,” she muttered. “Especially not
for our first Valentine's Day.”
“So, back to the plan,” Hermione was
back into her military commander role. “Your mother is clear on what we need
her to do?”
Ginny smiled. “She was more than
willing to help. Especially since Dad did the same thing to her, their first
Valentine's Day together.” She grinned. “He hasn't forgotten since.”
“Really? Your dad forgot their first
Valentine’s Day?” Hermione asked, interested. “I guess it really is ‘like
father, like son,’ then.”
“You had better hope not!” Ginny
exclaimed, laughing. “Unless, of course, you're ready to
start popping out the first of those seven kids?”
Hermione looked horrified. “Ginny, you
know we haven't-- we're not-- “
“I know, Hermione,” Ginny said in a
calming voice. “It was a joke. You're wound a bit tight, aren't you?”
Hermione sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm just--
It's not happening again.”
Ginny nodded. “It'll be fine. Charlie's
going to back us up as well, you know.”
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. “How're
you going to get that to happen?” she asked, impressed.
“Well,” Ginny looked smug. “I happen to
know a few things that Charlie doesn't want Mum to know. So he's cooperating.
He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Hermione smiled faintly “Ooo-kay. I want to hear more about that later. How much
time do we have until we need to meet your mum?”
Ginny glanced at her watch; the hand
was pointing to Hurry up or you'll be
late. “Umm, not much, actually,” she said, showing Hermione the time.
“We'd better head back to the common room.”
The girls hurried along the corridor,
discussing their plans in low voices as they went.
“So Ali’s going to try and hold Harry
and Ron after practice, so they’ll come back while we’re talking to your
mother?” Hermione asked. “How is she going to do that?”
“Oh, she’s just going to come up with
some hare-brained strategy that involves Ron and herself,
and try to run it by Harry. I don’t expect she’ll be able to keep them too
long, though-- Ali’s not a very convincing liar.” Ginny smiled to herself.
“How’d you get her to agree to this,
anyway?” Hermione asked as they rounded the corner towards the last corridor on
their way back to GryffindorTower.
“Sheer brilliance, if I do say so
myself,” quipped Ginny. “I remembered that Butterbeer fetish she has, and
begged Fred and George to ask Madame Rosmerta to send
me a case. So, upon completion of the agreed task, Ali will receive twenty-four
bottles of Butterbeer.”
Hermione frowned. “You don’t think
she’ll drink it all at once, do you? I worry about Ali,
sometimes...it can’t be healthy to drink so much of the stuff, however weak it
Ginny shrugged. “Well, if she does,
we’ll just have to enroll her in BDA....” The girls stopped in front of the
portrait. “Open up!” Ginny said, and they stood back as the Fat Lady
swung back to reveal the common room.
“The Fat Lady’s getting a bit obvious
in her passwords,” Hermione mused as she climbed in through the portrait hole.
“Oh, there’s your mother,” she said to Ginny, gesturing to Mrs. Weasley’s face
floating amongst the flames in the hearth. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley! The boys
should be back any minute,” said Hermione, sitting down on the hearthrug to
chat until it was time to put their plan into action.
February 10th. 1529 hours. Gryffindor Common Room.
Harry and Ron entered the common room,
deep in discussion.
“What did she mean by diversionary
tactics?” Ron asked Harry, looking frustrated. “I don’t think she had a bloody
idea what she was talking about! ‘Make them think we’re going left, and then go
right....’” Ron sounded disgusted.
Harry shook his head in agreement. “She
was just babbling on and on and on.... She’s a fantastic Chaser, but she
couldn’t plan strategy if her life depended on it.” Harry glanced across the
common room. Ginny and Hermione were talking to Mrs. Weasley in the fire, and
if he strained his ears, he could just make out what was being said.
“...so I told Margot, ‘What can you
expect? He forgot Valentine's Day, dearie. Twice. It's
enough to drive any witch over the edge.’ Mind you, I'm not saying she should
have done that, but....” Harry
nudged Ron. This sounded rather interesting.
Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off, and
was replaced by Hermione's. “How's the trial going, Mrs. Weasley?” she asked.
Ron looked over at Harry in confusion. What
trial?, he mouthed. Harry shook his head. He
hadn't heard of any big trials....
Ginny's voice joined the conversation.
“It sounds strange, I know-- considering what she did-- but I sort of feel
sorry for her, you know?”
Hermione agreed. “Her boyfriend
completely forgetting Valentine's Day for the second year in a row... It's not
surprising that she killed him.” There was a pause. “Not that I'm condoning
murder, or anything,” she added hastily. “It's just-- how insensitive can you
“Of course, dear, we understand
perfectly,” Mrs. Weasley said in a sympathetic tone. “Still...they don't expect
the trial to go well for her, especially since she...did what she did.”
The girls both shuddered. “Yes, that,” they said in unison.
Ron looked over at Harry. That? He mouthed. Harry shrugged,
looking, if possible, even more bewildered than Ron.
Mrs. Weasley’s voice continued. “Well,
you know, dears, he really should have caught the signs. Margot told me that
the girl apparently went around in nothing but pink for days before she did
it... drawing little hearts all over her notebooks... referring to herself as
Mrs. Whatever-his-name-was.... And I trust Margot-- she’s not just some idle
gossip...her comic store is right next to the courthouse, you know. Really, the
poor man should have figured it out.”
Hermione jumped in eagerly “Yes! I read
about the warning signals in 10
Current Magical Murder Trials to Chill Your Blood and Make Your Knees Knock.
It has first-rate coverage of the crime and trial as it progresses-- it updates
itself magically, of course. Written by the girlfriend's
ex-best friend's cousin. The author practically saw it happen first
hand!” Ron looked over at Harry. Poor
guy, he mouthed. Harry nodded, and looked slightly ill.
“It's too bad, really. They were both
so young.” Mrs. Weasley sounded regretful. “Oh, well. What can you do? It's
been lovely talking to you two. Ginny, tell you brother to behave himself, will
you dear? And give Harry my love-- I've got to go see to the
“Bye, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said
cheerfully. “Thanks for your advice about that scouring charm.”
“Bye, Mum,” Ginny said, just before the
boys heard a slight pop!
February 10th. 1600 hours. Sixth Year
“There’s no need to be scared,” Harry
told Ron, back inside the boys’ room, safely away from the girls. “There’s no
need to be scared,” he repeated, as if he were trying to convince
“No need,” Ron whispered.
“They were just talking about a famous
trial,” Harry continued. “No connection with us.”
“Of course not.” Ron didn’t sound at all
“A famous trial, Ron, you know how
Hermione is with these things. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Then why are you trembling?” Harry
asked, throwing his hands in the air in a sign of frustration.
“Because …because ...because....” Ron
didn’t seem to be able to form coherent sentences.
“Because?” Harry urged him
“Because… did you hear what they said?
That -- that witch went nutters because her boyfriend forgot about Valentines
Day. He forgot and she went crazy.” Ron stopped talking and looked at him
before saying it again. “He forgot and she went crazy....”
“I was there, Ron; I heard that
already,” Harry said as Ron stared at the ceiling looking lost. “What’s the
“You don’t understand Harry, do you?”
Ron was at Harry’s side in an instant. “He forgot and she went nutters and did
who-knows-what to the poor man.”
“And?” Harry still didn’t see the
“And… I forgot about Valentines Day
last year.” Ron had a look of utter terror on his face. “What if Hermione
“It’s a little late to worry about
that, Ron,” Harry said with a grin.
“Be serious Harry, please. What if she
freaks out?” Ron didn’t look as though he relished the idea of an insane
“She won’t freak out,” he replied
“How do you know that? How can you be
sure? For all I know she could be planning my death right now. And I bet Ginny
Harry suddenly went pale.
“We have to do something,” Ron
continued, barely noticing Harry, even though he was addressing him. “They’re
Harry glared at him. “I know that, you
prat. Would it hurt you to make sense?”
“We’re not girls,” Ron continued.
“It sure took you a long time to figure
that out.” Harry was getting impatient. “I think I’ll take a nap or something
until you regain your senses....”
“No-- Harry, listen to me. Do you have
any idea what to get a girl for Valentine’s Day?” Ron asked.
“No,” recognition dawned slowly on
Harry. “Who do you talk to when you need girl help with Hermione?”
“Ginny,” Ron answered promptly.
Harry shook his head. “That won’t work
“I bloody well know that, Harry,” Ron
“But... what are we going to do? You
have to tell me. You’re the veteran, after all,” said Harry, his voice
contorting in panic.
“Veteran? I gave Hermione a
flower last year, remember?” Ron said, hanging his head.
“Right.” Harry shook his head. “Not flowers
“Not flowers,” Ron agreed.
“We can always ask your mother,” Harry
“Mum?” Ron shook his head “She’ll tell
Ginny right way. And Ginny will tell Hermione. No way. We need someone else,
someone with experience on this, someone we can trust.”
Harry thought for a moment. How about-- “Charlie!”
“What? Harry, in case you haven’t
noticed, Charlie isn’t a girl.”
“I know that, Ron, but he’s older and
he has a girlfriend, right? He’s bound to have more experience. Besides, we can
ask him if he’s heard about the trial…you know he always keeps up with the
“Well….” Ron looked doubtful.
“You have a better idea? No? Then
Charlie it is.”
February 10th. 1635 hours. Hagrid’s Cabin.
Weasley was NOT a happy man. His eyes made a frustrated sweep of the parchment
he had received from his mother earlier that morning, and then chanced a quick
glance at the determined young woman in front of him.
He glared at her. No, Charlie Weasley
was DEFINITELY not a happy man, and from the look of things, it would get much
worse before it got better.
“So, you've got everything straight,
right?” Ginny asked, breaking him out of his reverie.
Charlie signed and responded “Yeah,
Gin, I've got it all...but you still haven't given me a reason to help you! I
mean, you're my little sister, and of course I want you happy, but this...this
is betrayal of my fellow men!”
Ginny smiled a rather devious smile.
Charlie squirmed in his seat.
“Well?” he queried.
Ginny drew it out. “The thing is, brother dear,” she flashed him a quick grin
and then went on, “I've been hearing some rather interesting stories concerning you and a certain female dragon
trainer, that I don't think Mum has heard anything about.”
Charlie scoffed. “THAT'S your blackmail
material? Sorry, Ginnikins, but if that's all you've
got, I'm going to have to respectfully decline.”
Ginny's smile grew wider. Charlie's
face fell and he swallowed heavily.
“Just one more little thing,” Ginny
began. “Rumor has it that this other dragon tamer made a rather abrupt move to Hogsmeade just a few days after a certain brother of mine
took a position as a professor at Hogwarts. What do you imagine Mum would think
Charlie exclaimed, “You haven't got anything there, and you know it!”
Ginny nodded. “I’ll concede to the fact
that people do move all the time, and Mum might not be terribly interested that your girlfriend,” Charlie reddened at
her words, “has a flat in Hogsmeade. BUT, I can guarantee that she
would like to know how many nights the said girlfriend spends, or shall we say DOESN'T spend in her flat. Where
do you think she goes all of those long, cold, lonely nights?”
Ginny pretended to ponder this for a
moment, then took a deep breath and exhaled nosily. “But if you don't want to
help me, I can't force you,” she smiled brightly. “You and Elesse
have a nice Valentine's Day... it will probably be your last. Cheers!” She
started to walk off through the snow.
“Wait!” She stopped and turned around.
He glared at his younger sibling and
said grudgingly, “I'll help.”
Ginny threw her arms around Charlie.
“Thank you! You’re the best older brother a girl could have!”
He unwound her arms from around his
neck. “I hope you know what you're doing, little sister,” he said, turning
“Don't worry, Hermione and I have
everything planned out,” she assured him. “Nothing can go wrong.”
“If you say so....” Charlie didn’t look
“I do say so,” she answered.
“Okay, but I'm warning you, I don't
want to get involved with all of this girly romance stuff again. Before you
know it, I'll have to begin polishing my nails... curling my hair... changing
my drawers every day....”
Ginny gave him a horrified look.
“You don't?” she asked.
“I don't what?” Charlie said back,
“Never mind.” Ginny shook her head. “Just...never
mind. I'll see you at dinner, all right?”
“Fine.” Charlie agreed. He looked back towards
the castle. “Hey! Get out of sight!” he hissed at Ginny. “I think that's Ron
and Harry I see coming across the lawn. What did you two say to them?”
But Ginny had already
February 10th 1646 hours.Hagrid’s Cabin.
Charlie was attaching several letters
to the leg of his owl, Archimedes, when Ron and Harry arrived, very much out of
Ron greeted his brother, “Charlie…we’re
glad we’ve caught you! Are you busy?”
“Not really.” His brother replied. “Just sending off these chain owls.Elesse
and I have finally worked things out, and I don’t want anything to ruin our
“Ugh, I hate those things. Got three in my morning mail just this past week.” Harry
said, looking at the letters distastefully.
Charlie released the owl, and then
turned to the boys, “So what can I help you with?”
Harry and Ron exchanged wary glances.
Harry started, “If you don’t mind, just some information, and maybe a bit of
“I don’t mind at all.” Charlie assured
them “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is actually wrong…yet.” Ron
Harry added, “We wondered if you had
heard anything about a big trial? Something about a guy being murdered by his
crazy girlfriend a few years ago on Valentine’s Day?”
Charlie paled. “Oh..”
Charlie pulled a face “The girl who did that”
He shuddered slightly. “There aren’t many of us wizards who don’t think of that come Valentine’s Day.”
Ron and Harry’s eyes widened. “That
bad?” asked Ron, in a whisper
Charlie. The boys leaned forward to listen eagerly to what Charlie had
to tell them.
February 10th. 1657 hours.
“Harry, mate,” Ron said as they left
Charlie’s, “I think we're in a mess of trouble.”
“I'll second that,” said Harry, kicking
a cloud of snow aside as they walked back to the castle. “Still, you don't
really think any of that rot he told us is true, do you?”
Ron shrugged. “I dunno,”
he said. “It's Charlie. But,” and here Ron seemed to be thinking very hard, “I
don't understand what he'd have to gain by lying to us.”
“Right,” said Harry dismally. “Then I
guess it's all true.”
“But we don't have anything to worry
about, right?” Ron looked at Harry hopefully as they entered into the castle.
“'Course not. Hermione and Ginny are
perfectly sane,” said Harry, his voice sounding none too certain.
“Of course,” echoed Ron, sounding
depressed. The boys walked back in silence to the Tower. They were still lost
deep in thought as they went in through the portrait. “Why the long faces, dearies?” called the Fat Lady as they stepped inside.
“Oh, nothing,” Ron called back over his
shoulder. “It's nothing.”
“Ron,” whispered Harry, his voice
Ron turned his head towards the stairs
leading to the girls’ dormitory and gasped “Hermione!” He half walked, half
stumbled over to where she was descending from her room, as his eyes swept from
her head down to her toes. Her very pink head down to her
very pink toes.
Hermione saw him and broke into a broad
smile “Ron! Just who I've been looking for!”
“Hermione...what...what’s HAPPENED to
you? Did Malfoy do this? That little ferret, if he did, I swear....” His
girlfriend looked at him, puzzled.
“What are you talking about? Malfoy
hasn't been near me all day...what's wrong with you?” She genuinely didn’t seem
to understand why Ron was so upset.
“What's wrong with me!?!” Ron practically
screamed. “I'M not the one wearing solid pink from head to toe! You look like
someone dipped you into a vat of pink marzipan!”
“Well that's just lovely, Ron! Thank
you so very much!” Hermione was near tears “I-- I thought you would like to see
me in a different color. I usually wear mostly dark things, and....” She burst
into tears. “I did this for you, you big prat! I want to look nice for you,
especially since it's so close to....” she suddenly cut herself off, and
continued more coolly. “Well, it's not like you’ll remember anyway....”
And with that she swept past Ron
without a second glance. Harry's eyes met Ron's. It wasn't looking good.
Ron,” Harry said. “I know it sounds strange, but maybe she just wanted to wear
pink. She is a girl after all....” Harry suddenly went silent and Ron could see
Ginny and Hermione sitting in a corner of the room. Ginny, too, was wearing
pink robes-- and from where he was standing he would swear her nails looked a
pale pink too.
“No need to panic?” Ron asked “Are you
sure, mate...because both of our girlfriends are
wearing pink. And you know what Charlie said about that woman....”
But Harry didn't answer. He just stared
at Ginny thoughtfully, as she pored over her History of Magic essay. The table
was scattered with papers and books and-- Harry walked a little closer to look
“What is it?” Ron looked at Harry-- his
face had gone paper white.
But Harry didn’t answer, and instead
turned heel and started climbing up the stairs towards the boys' dormitory. Ron
gave one last glance at his sister and Hermione, now quietly engaged in a
conversation over whether roses or lilies-of-the-valley were more appropriate
for a wedding bouquet, and followed Harry to the dormitory.
February 10th 1705 hours 6th
Year Boys’ Dormitory
Harry leaned against the door, his
heart pounding wildly. What had he just seen? Ron sat down on his bed, his
freckles standing out in high relief against his paler-than-usual face.
“This is bad, isn’t it?” he asked.
Harry nodded. Ron sighed, dangling his legs off the bed. “I think they’ve gone
round the bend, mate. I mean, Hermione was....” Ron shuddered. It didn’t bear
thinking about. “And I know I screwed up last year, but-- I didn’t think it
upset her that badly, you know? She yelled at me, didn’t speak to me for a
week, and then everything was better, like it usually is.”
Better, thought Harry, is the operative
word. Ron had walked on eggshells around Hermione for at least two months after
his infamous memory lapse.
Having finally got his breath back,
Harry walked over to his bed. “What was Ginny doing?” Ron asked as he sat
Harry grimaced. “Well, she was-- er-- writing her name.” Ron looked confused. “I mean, a
different name. Her name, but different.”
“Make up your mind, will you?” Ron
said, crossing his arms.
Harry blushed slightly. “Er, she was writing ‘Mrs. Ginny Potter’ all over the page.
The ‘i’s were dotted with hearts and everything....”
Ron snorted. “Well, at least she thinks
your intentions are honorable, even if she is a psychopath.” Harry grinned
briefly, and then turned more serious.
“Ron, you don’t think they’re really
nutters, do you? I mean, it’s just like your mum and Charlie said.... You don’t
think they’d do-- that, right?”
Ron remained silent. “Ron?” Harry asked tentatively, “You don’t honestly think
“I don’t know what to think, Harry,”
Ron answered frustrated, running his hands through his hair and making it stick
up like Harry’s. “Normally, I’d say there’s no way Hermione would do something
so irrational, but....” He looked at Harry.
“But you don’t want to be strangled in
your sleep, stabbed in the back, thrown off a cliff, and so on and so forth
come Valentine’s Day?” Harry completed Ron’s thought.
Ron nodded. “Exactly. Better safe than
“I guess. Your sister has one hell of a
temper, you know that? I’m not sure I want to risk being on her bad side. Even
if she isn’t a psychopath.” Harry laughed nervously. “Which she isn’t, of
course. Of course,” Harry repeated, as though trying to convince himself.
“I guess we have no choice, then,” said
Ron grimly. Harry raised his eyebrow quizzically. “I’m not going to forget
Valentine’s Day two years running. And you better not forget either, or Ginny
will flay you alive. Or worse. So....” Ron’s voice trailed off.
“We do the exact opposite,” Harry
caught on. “We make sure it’s absolutely evident that we haven’t forgotten
Valentine’s Day. Every blasted thing in the book.”
“Exactly.” Ron began to pace, his hands
behind his back. “We won’t give them an excuse to put us in thumbscrews or
whatever that crazy lady did to that poor bloke.”
February 11th. 0900 hours.
Ginny flopped down a chair opposite
Hermione, giggling wildly. “Did you see them?” she asked, in between
“I know,” whispered Hermione excitedly.
“I think they bought it! You know what that means?” Hermione asked
“No more forgotten Valentine's Days!”
the two girls chorused together, dissolving into smothered peals of laughter.
“Girls!” came a sharp voice, “Please!
This is a library, not a Quidditch match!” Madame Pince
was not pleased. “And you, Miss Granger! I thought you knew better....”
“Sorry, Madame Pince,”
Ginny whispered, her face flushed, trying to cover for poor Hermione, who
looked absolutely devastated at the reprimand from the librarian. “We'll be
quieter, I promise.” Hermione nodded in agreement.
“I should think so,” huffed the irate
librarian as she walked away.
“We'd better not talk, then, Ginny,”
cautioned Hermione. “How about we just write notes instead?” Ginny nodded her
agreement and pulled our some parchment and a quill. For a moment the only
sound was that of the quill scratching noisily...a bit too noisily, apparently,
from the death glares Ginny was receiving from the librarian. Ginny gulped and
tried to write more quietly.
She finished the last word with a
flourish, and shoved the quill and paper in Hermione's direction. Hermione took
up the parchment and began to read. It's
like being back in grade school and passing notes! Ginny had written.
Hermione smiled, and read on. I wanted
to tell you, though, that Parvati told me that the boys seemed terribly nervous
earlier...seems that we've got them right where we want them! Hermione
looked up and grinned at Ginny.
Ginny motioned for her to keep
Parvati said that when we came around the corner on our way down to breakfast,
Ron turned and went------
Hermione looked up.
“Peeing up the stairwell?” she
Ginny looked at her, confused. “What?”
Hermione gestured to the note. “You
said he went peeing up the stairwell!” she whispered, a little louder than
necessary; she was beginning to giggle again.
Ginny pursed her mouth in an attempt
not to laugh out loud. “That's ‘fleeing up the stairwell,’ idiot. Smartest
witch of our generation my foot.” Hermione swatted Ginny with the parchment.
“Well, your handwriting's atrocious,”
Hermione said primly. “I'd never have thought it said something like that
unless it looked like it.”
“Atrocious? Really Hermione... you must
be losing it," Ginny said, trying very hard not to laugh. “It sounds to me
like you and Ron must be very intimate if every conversation about you two
turns that way.” Hermione turned a deep shade of red and glared at Ginny.
“Ginny! You know I've never....”
Hermione turned even redder. If anything, her answer, or lack thereof, made
Ginny laugh even harder. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and a couple of the
books were now on the floor.
“Ginny,” Hermione whispered in a
desperate attempt to calm her down as she spied Madame Pince
heading toward them. “Please, Ginny,” she begged. But there was no going
“Girls! How on earth are the two of you
making such a racket?!? I swear by all that’s holy, I can hear you from my
desk! I thought I had-- “
Ginny interrupted her, her voice still
shaking with laughter. “Yes, yes... we’re going now, I promise.” Ginny turned
around to look at Hermione and in the next instant picked up her books and ran
out of the library to avoid another reprimand for laughing.
“You little...” Hermione whispered, as
she tried to clean up the mess and apologize to Madam Pince
at the same time. “You little witch.”
Ginny's laughter reached her from the
hallway. Hermione sighed. I should have known better. It’s practically a law of
nature: never, she thought, try to talk to a Weasley in the library, unless you
want to get in trouble.
February 13th. 2017
hours. Sixth Year Boys’ Dormitory.
“You understand this will be a delicate
job? That if we fail at this, our very lives are at stake?” There was a nod of
assent. “Good. Good. Because there can't be any botch-ups. If there are---” The
voice trailed off, as though the consequences were too terrible to
“But Ron-- how on earth are we going to
do all this?” Harry finally voiced the question that had been nagging at him
“There's no way we can possibly carry
out everything, with just the two of us,” Harry sounded tired. Of course, that
was to be expected. Ron's “tactical meetings” had a tendency to drag on and on
Ron looked at Harry sharply. “You're not backing out, are you?” he asked
“Of course not, Ron!” Harry was
indignant. “You think I want to be hexed into next Tuesday? I just don't see
how we can possibly pull all this off.”
Ron grinned. It was the grin of someone
who'd been staring at chessboards and Quidditch game plans for entirely too
long: off-kilt, clever, and definitely up to something. He held up something
that Harry recognized as the S.P.E.W. badge that Hermione had forced Ron to
wear during their fourth year. “What,” Harry asked skeptically, “are you going
to free the elves as part of your present to Hermione?”
“Nope.” Ron shook his head. “The
opposite: we're going to get them to help us do this.”
Harry grinned. “Hermione would be
devastated,” he paused. “Perfect.”
February 13th. 2103 hours. The Kitchen.
“But sirs,” asked a tinny voice in the
small crowd, “why is sirs wanting our help?” The other house elves nodded.
“Dobby and the other elves is happy to help The Great Harry Potter and his Weezey, but what can we do?”
A slightly manic grin lit up Harry's
half-hidden face, his eyes obscured by the glare of the roaring kitchen fires
on his glasses. He and Ron stepped forward, their shadows plunging the small
creatures into partial darkness. Ron spoke. “We're glad you've asked us that,
Harry began to whisper their plan to
“We're very glad you've asked....” Ron
said, with a half-smile.
February 14th: V-Day. 0607 hours. Fifth
Year Girls’ Dormitory.
Ginny Weasley opened one eye, then
closed it again. She rolled back and covered her head with a pillow, trying to
hold onto the last precious moments of sleep. But something told her she should
open her eyes.
One brown eye surveyed the room and
decided everything was normal, so Ginny settled on her pillow again, ready to
go back to sleep. But it was not to be.
”It's Valentine’s Day!” one of her roommates giggled. Ginny groaned into her pillow.
Valentine’s Day. Well, she'd better get up. She had worked hard to make this
day perfect... and for her perfect day to start she needed to get out of
She rolled out of bed without really
opening her eyes, groped around for her towel, and when she finally found it
she threw it on her shoulder, ignored the giggles from her roommates and headed
for the bathroom, her eyes still closed.
It was not until she stared at the
mirror that she noticed something was wrong.
Her hair was still red.
Her freckles hadn't disappeared
The nightgown she was wearing was still
the same as yesterday.
But something was definitely
She looked around and surveyed
everything on the bathroom, trying to decipher what was going on. It was not
until her eyes rested on the towel rack for the first time that she finally
Each and every one of the towels was
now bright red and in gold letters the message “I Love Ginny!” was
She gasped and turned around. This was
all a dream. Harry wouldn't do a thing like this. Not today. Not when she still
had to go to classes and face everyone. He just wouldn't....
But when she turned around again to
check, the message was still there and it seemed to her like it was shinning so
brightly that it hurt her eyes. She closed them and leaned against the bathroom
wall. What had she done?
February 14th: V-Day. 0607 hours. Sixth
Year Girls’ Dormitory.
“I love you, Hermione...I reckon I've
always loved you.”
Hermione smiled lovingly at her boyfriend
and replied, “Oh, Ron...for such a dunderhead, you can be incredibly sweet
“Do you think, I mean, would you mind
if I...kissed you?” Ron asked tentatively. Hermione nodded that yes, a kiss
would be most welcome, and leaned towards Ron as he...began to giggle
Since when did Ron giggle?
Come to think of it-- that sounded more
like a girl than Ron....
Hermione turned, trying to drown out
the unwelcome noise. “Stop it,” she murmured. “Ron...come back....” The giggling
increased tenfold. Hermione blinked open her eyes, trying to figure out what,
exactly, was making that extremely annoying sound.
”Gah!” Hermione sat up suddenly-- two faces were
staring at her, from a very close range.
Hermione turned beet red. “I-- er-- “ she tried to think of a suitable explanation.
“Wait,” she said, her head clearing slightly, “why were you two standing over
“Oh, no reason,” said Parvati smugly.
“We just thought that maybe you'd like to see your Valentine's Day
Hermione's heart soared. Ron hadn't
forgotten! But wait... Lavender and Parvati were dragging her out of bed
eagerly, and she didn't like the looks on their faces.
Parvati took Hermione's right arm,
Lavender grabbed her left, and the two of them marched her directly into-- the
bathroom? “Wha...?” began Hermione, before she
Emblazoned on every towel, standing out golden against the crimson cloth, were
the words “I Love Hermione!”
Lavender and Parvati looked like they
were choking back giggles. “I'm afraid, Hermione,” said Lavender, gasping for
breath, “that he did.”
Parvati doubled over, not bothering to
conceal her mirth. “In a way,” she managed to choke out, “it's kinda sweet. If you don't mind the fact that people will be
drying themselves off with your love letter....”
Hermione sank wordlessly to the floor.
“Well,” she said weakly, “he didn't forget....”
February 14th: V-Day. 0834 hours. The Great Hall.
Valentine's Days was not turning out to
be what the girls planned. They had thought the whole towels incident was
behind them by the time they headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, but they
were sadly mistaken.
It seemed that everyone in Hogwarts knew about it. Fellow Gryffindors giggled
and pointed and them and the boys, who were quietly sitting in their usual
spots. The Slytherins were pretending to write little messages in their napkins
and even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were having a laugh at their
Hermione shook her head and marveled at
how fast news traveled. By the time she and Ginny had seen each other for the
first time in the Common Room the whole Gryffindor House knew about it. She
suspected it had something to do with Parvati and Lavender, both of whom had
left the room minutes after showing her Ron's “present.” But all of Hogwarts?
How did that happen? Even Parvati and Lavender couldn't... or could they?
Beside Hermione, Ginny still looked
shocked. She continued to stare at Harry, as if he had a third eye, but Harry
had said nothing more than a very polite, “Good morning,” and he seemed to be
enjoying his breakfast very much.
Ron looked a little bit nervous, but
not as much as Ginny thought he would. In fact, nothing this morning had turned
out as Ginny thought. Not even one thing.
So, as soon as the thought that the boys were planning something else occurred
to her, she dismissed it. It couldn't be. The towels were more than enough. It
was their fault, for trying to set up the boys after all, now she would just
have to smile and get through the day.
Ron suddenly looked up and Hermione saw
a huge smile appear on his face. She looked at Ginny with a mixture of fear and
curiosity. Finally, the curiosity won and the two girls turned around just in
time to see a thousand owls enter the Great Hall.
Ginny smiled. Now this was part of a
normal Valentine's Day.
The owls made their usual way around
the Great Hall, dropping off brightly colored letters and packages and, of
course, countless bouquets of flowers. Ginny watched and waited eagerly. Since
Harry obviously hadn't forgotten Valentine's Day, maybe she'd get some
But all too soon, the owls finished
their deliveries and swirled back out of the Hall in a feathery cloud. All
except five sleek, chestnut owls, all without packages or letters. The five
owls soared silently over to the Gryffindor table and hopped down the length of
it, gracefully avoiding the pitchers of pumpkin juice and platters of sausage.
“What on earth...?” Hermione leaned
over to get a better view. She needn't have bothered; the five owls stopped
right in front of Ginny and herself. The five owls bowed in unison, and-- to
the girls' great surprise-- donned black sunglasses.
The largest owl separated himself from
the others, opened his beak, made a few throat clearing noises, and began
“I've got sunshine on a cloudy day,”
began the bird in a warm, full tenor. “When it's cold outside, I've got the
month of May,” the owl crooned, swaying and strutting up and down the
Hermione looked at Ginny. If she were
any redder, she’d match her hair.
The birds continued. “I------- guesssssss------- yoooooooooouuuuuuu'd------
saaaaaaaaaaay---,” the four back-up owls harmonized
and twirled. “What could make me feel this way?” The Gryffindor table was in an
uproar. All the Muggle-born students were joining in,
and everyone was craning their necks to get a better view of the owls. “My giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrlllllll,” the owls did a complicated
sort of soft-shoe routine and added in individual parts to the chord. “Talkin' 'bout-- my girl!”
Hermione slouched down in her seat.
Why, oh, why had she ever come up with this scheme? She stole a glance over at
Ron, who looked quite proud of himself.
Ginny was slowly banging her head
against the table. The song went on...and on....and on. Would it never end? Oh,
she knew now how Harry had felt when she sent him that ridiculous singing
Valentine in first year.
“...my girl!” The owls finished with a
flourish, and the Hall erupted into cheers. The two girls gazed around the room
in horror before fixing their gazes on the owls who were sipping pumpkin juice
from several students' goblets. The lead owl winked and blew the girls a
Hermione and Ginny exchanged shocked
glances. As she raced past the staff tables, Ginny could hear Charlie’s
taunting voice call out, “Enjoying your Valentine’s Day, Gin?” before he
collapsed into fits of laughter.
The boys looked at each other.
"Think we did something wrong?" asked Harry worriedly.
Ron shrugged. "Who
February 14th: V-Day. 0930 hours. Snape’s
For a brief moment after breakfast,
Ginny Weasley was sure that the day couldn't get worse. Then she glanced at her
schedule and grimaced. Double Potions. And to make things even worse, they had
a practical test.
And her partner was Colin Creevey.
It seemed that things could indeed get
She managed to slip into class without
drawing attention to herself, hoping, praying that Snape wouldn't have a thing
to say about the embarrassing events of the morning. But it was too much to
She wasn't even halfway done with her
roots when Snape started his tirade. "Today, we'll try a very simple potion:
elixir. I had intended to use this today as an opportunity to teach you a love
potion, but since Miss Weasley has already perfected that, I thought we should
move onto something else."
Ginny took a deep breath and counted to
ten, and when that didn't work she started counting to a hundred and went
straight on to a thousand. Her roots were now so small you could barely see
them, but she kept slicing them with a passion, paying no attention to what
Snape was lecturing about.
“Stupid,” she threw in the owl's eyes.
“Slimy,” she poured in a container of carrot juice. “Greasy,” she began
stirring the contents of the cauldron violently. “Git!”
she finished with satisfaction. “Has to take it out on the students,” she
muttered darkly. “Not OUR fault that no one wants his surly arse
for Valentine's Day. I'll bet he even....”
She was cut off by a low and dangerous
voice. “I'll bet he even what, Miss Weasley?”
Ginny's head snapped up, and her eyes
widened innocently. “Umm...nothing, Professor.”
Snape scowled. “Ten points off of
Gryffindor for lying! Now if you would be so kind as to join the rest of the
Snape stalked up to the front of the
dungeon and addressed the room at large. “As you all have, I'm sure, studied
diligently for this practical examination,” his voice oozed sarcasm towards the
silent fifth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, “you will undoubtedly know that
the anti-concealment potion NequaquamAbconditus is a relatively weak elixir used mainly to see
past very simply concealed items.” He drawled on, “There are, of course, many
similar, more complex concoctions that we will soon be studying, and will be
part of your O.W.Ls.”
“Now! If one person of each pair will
please take their chosen object off of the desk and enchant it,” he waited a
impatiently for a moment while the students did this, “the other person can
take a small dose of the potion, and we will see who correctly mixed their
ingredients, and who has failed.” Snape looked directly at Ginny. “Created correctly,
this potion should have no ill side effects,” he gave her a nasty smile. “Miss
Weasley, if you would?”
Ginny glanced down at the murky brown
liquid Colin was holding out to her and grimaced. She quickly grabbed the flask
and downed the contents. Ugh,
she thought to herself, why do potions
always have to taste like old socks? She turned her gaze to the small
clock Colin was holding, trying to discern whether it actually WAS a clock, and
she was seeing through the illusion Colin had placed on it, or if the potion
“Well...is it a clock?” she said,
Colin looked dismayed. “Erm, no, actually...that's the illusion. Did it not work
then?” Ginny shrugged and started to reply that she had added in all of the
ingredients correctly, and she had no idea what could
WRONG! This was so so
wrong! “Oh my wand!” she exclaimed, a bit too loudly.
“What? Gin, what's happened?” Colin
looked worriedly at Ginny, who had screwed her eyes up tight.
“Nothing! Nothing's wrong Colin!"
She eased one eye open, and with a squeak, quickly shut it again. What did I do? she thought furiously.
I must've added too many owls’ eyesor something! I'm supposed to see
through charms and illusions, not through clothing! She considered. Although...who would have thought that
little Colin Creevy goes commando?
“Mr. Creevy! Miss Weasley! Is there a
problem?” Not Snape, pleeeease not Snape.
“Miss Weasley! Open your eyes this
instant and answer me!” Ginny shook her head back and forth violently. “No?
Well then, I suppose it will have to be.... fifty points from Gryffindor, and a
week's worth of detentions for disobeying a professor!” Snape looked very happy
with himself. “And if you don't open your eyes and tell me what is going on
this instant, it will be one hundred points and two week's worth of
Ginny wondered if she might be better
off just gouging her eyes out from the start, as opposed to seeing her greasy
professor in his unmentionables. The unmentionables eventually won by a hair,
and Ginny reluctantly opened her eyes. Almost uncontrollably, her eyes
flickered downward for the briefest of moments. It was enough.
Dear God, she thought. Well, at least he wears underwear, she mused.
“Miss Weasley! Please look me in the
eye when I’m talking to you!”
Ginny guiltily raised her eyes. “I’m
sorry, Professor,” she said, turning redder by the second. "Miss Weasley!
Is there a problem?"
“There's not a problem. It's just,”
Ginny forced herself to stare over Snape's shoulder
and focus on a spot on the dungeon wall, “the potion didn't quite work.”
“Didn't work at all, or didn't work the
way it was supposed to, Miss Weasley?” Snape raised his eyebrow, obviously
thinking that Ginny was acting oddly. Ye
gods, thought Ginny. There is
no way I'm letting Snape know that I can see-- well.
“It didn't work at all, sir,” Ginny
lied, trying not to notice the sort of undergarments her classmates were
wearing. Apparently, most of the fifth year girls liked to dress up for
Valentine's Day... and most of the boys were wearing festive boxers as well. Of course Snape would wear tightie-whities, Ginny thought, slightly amused, uncomfortable, restrictive things are
probably right up his alley.
“...lucky your partner didn't kill you,
Weasley.” Snape's voice interrupted Ginny's reverie.
“I'll expect all of you to have an analysis on the dangerous side effects of
potion. I'll expect it in by tomorrow.” The class groaned. “Three scrolls'
length, if you please,” he called, as the class escaped from the dungeon at the
sound of the bell. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, and ran quickly out the
Luckily, the halls were near empty as
Ginny raced through the dungeons. Her eyes were automatically half-shut, in
order to prevent further visual trauma. She was nearly out of the dungeons when
she heard a voice behind her call, “Ginny! Hey Gin, wait up!” JustGO AWAY, whoever you are! Ginny hoped that the person would get
her mental message, and leave her alone.
She suddenly stopped short, as the
voice registered. Harry! She
brightened visibly, and began to turn around. I’ve always wondered…a slow smile spread across her face.
Harry jogged over to where she was
standing He looks good like that,
Ginny mused, all out of breath and
mussed and.. “Hey Gin,” Harry began, smiling, “I know this morning was
too much, but Ron and I, we both blah blahblahblah…” his voice seemed
distant and muffled as she stared rather unabashedly at his boxers. His tartan boxers. Ginny made what
she hoped were noises of assurance as he went on, and sighed. Could he know that I have such a…a weakness
for all things tartan? “And so you see, Gin, we blah blah”
Harry droned on, completely unaware of the effect he was having on his girlfriend.
I wonder if
dragging him into that corner and kissing him senseless would shut him up? She thought dazedly. Harry was still
speaking, “I’m awfully glad we’ve had this talk, love. I’ll see you later
Ginny’s eyes trailed him as he began to
walk back towards the potion’s dungeon. “Calipygous!”
she breathed “and in tartan....” she shivered slightly. “Sorry, did you say
something?” Harry asked, as he turned back to face her.
“No! I’m going to be late to my next
class, and Snape’ll have your hide if you’re late.
Bye!” she disappeared up the stairs before Harry could say another word.
Ginny Weasley took a few hesitant
steps, all the while staring at the floor. She had already seen Harry AND Snape
in their underclothes, not to mention almost all of her classmates. She
shuddered to think of what would happen if she ran into Dumbledore next. No,
better to keep staring at the floor.
But staring at the floor had its
disadvantages, which she discovered moments later as she ran into a hard body.
She looked up before she could help it and stood face to face with Draco
“My, my... fancy meeting you here, Mrs.
Potter,” he drawled as he studied her, sneering at her closed-off face. “What's
the matter? Potter not treating you right?” Ginny didn't answer. She forced
herself to stare at Draco's face instead of looking down at ....that--
It had to be a mistake, she told
herself. She was imagining things now.
Take a peek Ginny, a little voice told
NO, I won't
take a peek, she told
herself sternly. I refuse to take a
You know you’re curious, the voice
I am not! she argued angrily
with the inner voice. And I will not
take a peek!
But it was too late. Her eyes had
betrayed her, and she giggled as she contemplated the sight before her. It
seemed that Draco wasn't as naturally endowed as he liked people to presume. He
needed a little – er – help, it seemed.... She burst
out laughing as she realized exactly what the help was. A pair of socks. And
that wasn't all.
Ginny leaned against the wall and tried
to control her laughter as she spied a little inscription on the socks. I love
my Mummy it read in red stitching.
”You love your mummy?” Ginny asked in between giggles.
Draco's statement was priceless. His mouth was hanging open and seeing him made
Ginny think about a fish out of the water. Ginny’s stomach began to hurt from
laughing so hard.
“They’re not -- I mean, what are you
talking about, Weasley?” Malfoy sneered, his pale face faintly flushed.
Ginny smirked, and glanced down
meaningfully. “Oh, nothing. Just those lovely socks of yours... the ones with
the ‘I love my Mummy’ inscription. You know, Malfoy-- the ones that are...er...how to put it delicately? Well, the ones augmenting
your masculine image....” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Wonder if
anyone one else knows about those?”
Draco glared at her. “Hush it, Weasley.
Besides,” he said with gritted teeth, “they’re not mine. IstolethemfromCrabbe'sdrawer.”
“You what?” Ginny was now laughing so
hard that she couldn't even talk properly. “Stolen socks,” she managed to say,
“from Crabbe's drawer....” She patted Malfoy on the
“Thank you very much, Draco...you’ve
just made my day.”
February 14th: V-Day. 1147
hours. Gryffindor Common Room.
Ginny ran along the corridors, heading
back to the common room before lunch.
Draco Malfoy and stolen socks. Who
knew? She giggled a little at the thought as she reached the Fat Lady.
Thankfully, she couldn't see through her clothes.... As she stepped inside the
common room, she heard a noise behind her.
“Ginny!” a voice cried out, “hold the
door for me, please?” Ginny looked back to see Hermione, hidden behind a tall
stack of books.
“What're those?” she asked, helping her
through the portrait hole.
“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to know how
the boys managed to enchant the owls at breakfast, so I ran down to the library
to do a little research,” Hermione said, stumbling across the room.
“Hey!” Ginny looked at her friend
amazedly. “I can’t see your underwear!”
“What?!?” asked Hermione, a scandalized
look on her face.
Ginny shook her head. “Never mind.
Accident in Potions, but it must’ve worn off.” Just then, Ginny felt something
hit her head and bounce off. “Ow!” she cried, rubbing
her head. "What was that?"
Hermione put her books down with a
thud, and leaned over to pick up a-- “Chocolate Frog?”
She looked around for the boys and when
she did not find them she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.
It was just a Chocolate Frog. She'd had dozens like it during her life. What
was so peculiar about this one?
Maybe that it fell from the sky, a
little voice told her but Hermione paid no attention to it. She was not going
to look up just to have singing chocolate frogs or something. She just
Ginny though, was another matter. Just
as Hermione bent to pick up the chocolate frog she looked up at the ceiling and
gasped. It was ..it was ..
The ceiling was covered with all kind
of flowers, roses, daisies, lady slippers and even orchids, creating a
beautiful effect that made Ginny smile brightly. She tapped Hermione on the
shoulder as she signaled to the ceiling and Hermione shook her head before
reluctantly looking up.
It was beautiful, she decided after
just a few seconds of staring at it. The flowers were arranged to make out
letters and she stood on her tiptoes, trying to read the message. “I think it
says…” she whispered just before being hit by countless chocolate frogs.
“What the h ...?” Ginny yelled, but it
was too late. The flowers started falling rapidly, hitting the girls in the
face and making them take refuge in a corner of the room.
Ginny shook her head. “I have no idea,”
she whispered back as she ducked to avoid a rain of chocolate frogs that seemed
directed at her. “I think -- I think Harry and Ron went nutters-- just like
that witch in the story we made up....”
“It's possible,” Hermione responded.
“But I refuse to let them get away with it …I've been in Hogwarts for six
years...I’m sure I can stop this.” She stood up and pulled out her wand.
“Fi ...” she
started saying, but she never finished. The chocolate frogs seemed to have eyes
and they flew towards her with a force that made her fall her to the
“Hermione?” Ginny asked with concern as
she tried to maneuver around the flowers that had now reached her waist. “Are
you okay?” A mop of brown hair covered with flowers stared back at her.
“I. Am. Fine.” Hermione stood up and
started to take the flowers out of her hair. “But I-- ouch!” She closed her eyes and opened them again.
“Did it hit you hard?” Ginny seemed to
be having better luck than Hermione at avoiding the chocolate frogs, but she
was as covered in flowers as Hermione was. “I think that'll leave a ..”
“Don't you dare say it, Ginny Weasley,”
Hermione warned her. “Don't you dare say it.”
“Okay.” Ginny nodded and looked around.
“Do you think this will ever stop?”
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I
don’t know, but maybe we’d best get out of here!”
Ginny could only nod.
February 14th: V-Day. 1930
hours. Great Hall.
Hermione and Ginny stumbled into the
Great Hall. Ginny glanced over her shoulder, as though she were afraid that a
giant cupid would swoop down and attack her. Hermione held the ice pack up
against her eye and wondered, for the seventy gazillionth
time, why she had every conceived that ridiculous plan.
The girls sat down together at the long
table, Harry and Ron taking the spots opposite them. ”I'm really sorry about
that Chocolate Frog, Hermione,” Ron said meekly. “I just thought that chocolate
was supposed to be a big thing on Valentine's Day.” Hermione sighed. It really
wasn't Ron's fault; she and Ginny were the ones who drove the boys to such
Harry looked across the table at Ginny.
“Um, Ginny, I've got another surprise for you.” Ginny winced and looked around
warily. No flocks of owls, no hailstorm of candy, no emblazoned towels...what
could it be?
Harry raised his eyes slightly, and
Ginny took the hint and looked up, preparing herself for yet another disaster.
Hermione looked up as well.
was all she could manage.
“Well, do you like it?” Ron looked like
he was about to dive under the table if she said no.
Ginny looked at Harry, her eyes unnaturally
bright. ”I'm sorry, Ginny,” he said quickly, “it's to much, isn't it? I should
have just gotten you flowers and some candy...normal candy,” Harry looked like
he was going to start banging his head against the table.
“No-- Harry--“ Ginny gave a watery
smile. “It's wonderful. It really is.”
She looked back up to the ceiling of
the Great Hall. The bewitched night sky was clear and glittering with stars,
and, glowing softly, silver words wound their way across the velvety black
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way
this: where I does not exist, nor you,
close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.”
Hermione-- cool, calm, collected
Hermione-- was sobbing. “Er-- Hermione? Are you
okay?” Ron looked as though he weren't sure if he should stay or find a safe
place to wait out the storm.
Hermione sniffed and smiled at her
boyfriend. “Ron, I’m much more that okay.” She walked around to the other side
of the table and threw her arms around him. “You’re wonderful, you know
Harry looked over at his friends, and
then back across the table at Ginny. “So we didn’t ruin your day completely?”
he asked, hoping that he wasn’t about to be struck down by lightning.
“Oh Harry!” she whispered, looking at
him with watery eyes, “You’ve been wonderful today. Hermione and I shouldn’t
have tried to control your actions, and…” she broke off and asked, “Forgive
me?” Harry gave her a puzzled look. “I’d forgive you just about anything,
Ginny, but I’m confused. What is it you’re supposed to be sorry for?”
Ginny glanced at Hermione, who was
nodding and whispering something in Ron’s ear. She sighed, “This is a fairly
long story.” Harry smiled, “Fine with me. I was planning on spending the rest
of the day with you anyway.” Ginny smiled back, and launched into an
explanation of the entire complicated mess.
February 14th: V-Day. 2300 hours. AstronomyTower.
This was what
Valentine's Day was all about, Ginny Weasley thought
as she made her way to the AstronomyTower, her hand holding Harry's
warm one. Yes...this was all she needed.
She smiled as she
thought of Ron and Hermione, who were probably making up right about now. She
giggled softly to herself. Their plan hadn't worked out so badly after all.
Yes, it had been an embarrassing day, but she had Harry-- and he was behaving
normally again. Life was perfect.
Harry pulled her hand
to get her attention and they stopped just before entering the Tower. He smiled
and kissed her softly, and she almost melted at his touch. But his next words
made her blood run cold.
“Ginny, I've got a
present for you”
Her eyes opened
wide and she started to shake her head, but Harry took her hand and guided her
towards the entrance. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself, ”Not
“Come on Ginny,
open your eyes,” Harry urged, exasperated. Ginny considered his words for a
moment. She was a Gryffindor after all; she might as well do it. So she opened
“Um, Harry?”Ginny wasn’t quite sure what to make of the
sight in front of her-- on the floor of the Astronomy Tower was a hearthrug
from the common room.“It’ s a really
nice hearthrug, but....”
”But what?” Harry
asked, a hurt look on his face.Ginny
tried to salvage the moment.The poor
boy was trying so hard.
“But—won’ t they miss it?” she said
quickly.”I mean, since I’ m not going
to return it, or anything—“
Harry laughed.“ It’ s okay, Gin.The hearthrug isn’t the present, I
promise.”Ginny looked relieved.Then she grinned.
“So what is my present, then?” she asked
slyly.Harry smiled mysteriously and
gestured to the rug.
“Have a seat and
I’ll show you,” he said quietly.Ginny
shivered slightly and sat down on the hearthrug, and Harry sat down next to
her.Harry flicked his wand quickly
towards the ceiling, and muttered something Ginny couldn’t make out.
Harry reached over
and took her hand before looking at her earnestly.”I tried, but I couldn’t find anything that
would let me rearrange these stars for you.So they‘ll have to do as they are.”Ginny looked up to see that the tower’s roof had somehow retracted,
leaving them blanketed in the soft glow of star and moonlight.“I thought that maybe we could just watch
the stars go out,” Harry said softly, pulling her into a hug.
Ginny’s eyes stung
and she swallowed heavily before speaking.”Harry,” she whispered, “you’re wonderful, you know?”And she gently pressed her lips to his.Ginny looked up into his brilliant green eyes
“POTTER!” a came shout
up the stairwell. Harry blanched. “You better not be doing anything with my
sister up there! I saw you take that hearthrug, and I know what you’re—“Ron’s tirade was cut off by a softer, more feminine
voice wheedled, “How about we go find our own hearthrug?” There was a silence,
and then Harry and Ginny could hear Ron’s voice answer back, breaking
“Yes, dear,” he
said. Then they heard nothing but noises that sounded like someone being kissed
Ginny, smiling up at Harry,” I reckon it’s been a pretty good Valentine’s Day
A/N: *waves* Hello …this is Liz. *glares* What??? Just in case they wanted to
know …anyway, I don't think I've ever enjoyed writing anything as much as I
enjoyed writing this. It began as a crazy idea and it turned out into an epic
story. A thousand thanks to: The Queens,
for the challenge and the items; Ali and Ami the missing members of OBHGF
..Just for being who they are. (Joyce’s addition to Liz’s A/N: Liz told me to
put in something about GT Chat, because Elle and I both did, and she didn’t
want to look bad. :P So thanks, GT Chatters, from Liz.) And finally, to Joyce
and Elle …you girls ROX! We siriusly need to try this
again sometime …SOON!
A/N: Whoa. This thing's longer than my killer term paper from last semester.
And that's saying something. But this was ever so much more fun to write. I
mean, when else do you get to write pages about the alternate uses for socks?
Or the joys of MoTown singing owls? That's right.
Nowhere. So, thanks to the Queens
(for not blasting us with their tiaras), everyone in GT Chat (for putting up
with our insane rants), and to my wonderful cyber sisters. Ami, Ali-- you guys
rock my world. And that's all there is to say. Liz, Elle-- what a long, strange
fic it's been.... Let's do it again for April Fool's
A/N: *Danielle collapses under weight of fic* Er...can someone help me out, please? Many, many thanks to
everyone at GT Chat (again, the insane ranting), The Queens, for starting up
this wonderful world we call GryffindorTower.
As always, Ami and Ali, for being the greatest little sisters anyone could hope
for. And most especially, to Liz and Joyce, my days are brighter and infinitely
more interesting with you two in them.
The Sugar Quill was created by Zsenya and Arabella. For
questions, please send us an Owl!
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