***
"Hermione, I need to talk to you," Ginny said
with a forced calmness.
All throughout dinner, Ginny had hardly been
able to keep from screaming and pulling her hair out at the same time.
"Ginny, I'm busy writing..." Hermione
glanced at Ginny's distressed face, and said, "please don't tell me this
has something to do with R- those boys downstairs..."
The slim red headed girl flopped down heavily
on Hermione's bed, causing some hidden papers to sadly float down to the
beautiful wood-paneled floor, which was piled with books.
"I'm such a prat! I'm a stupid git! I'm-
I'm-I’m never going to even have a real conversation with Harry-ever!"
This declaration was slightly muffled, due to the fact that there were
blankets over Ginny’s head.
"Harry?" With her nose in a book,
Hermione still managed to look caring and sympathetic in a confused sort
of way. "You've said that to me millions of times, Ginny," she said, closing
the small notebook she was writing in. "And if I tell you I don’t think
it's true, one more time, it won’t have any meaning. What happened downstairs
after I left, anyway?"
"Well, as you know," Ginny’s head emerged from
beneath he covers, "my brother and Harry were in the common room talking
about the Yule Ball. They were trying to think of any other last attempts
at finding partners-"
"Last attempts! That’s exactly what it was!
Now I’m remembering why I made such a fool of myself. I can't believe
Ron would actually- how insensitive can he be? -Why do I even think-Argh!
Bloody boys are so stupid!"
At this point, which was the climax of her
small speech, Hermione was standing up on her bed and was clutching the
scarlet curtains in one hand, while her other arm flailed out hitting
a frame off the wall.
Ginny sat up, glad that her head was out the
line of fire. Gosh, she thought. Did she really just say "bloody?"
I understand, but… Hermione?
Nevertheless, she quickly told Hermione, with
the same enthusiasm, that she agreed.
After the outburst, both girls fell into their
own melancholy quietness. Ginny slid of the bed, and slumped onto the
floor thinking, I could have gone with him…
She continued her thoughts out loud. "Ron said
that I could go with Harry to the ball," she said murmuring, "since he
didn't have anyone else to go with-"
Hermione snorted. "Ginny, how can they even
think of you like that? As a last resort for Harry?" Harry is one
of my best friends of course, but he hardly deserves you if he hasn't
realized by now what a great, sweet funny girl you are."
Ginny looked down at a pile of books uncertainly.
Hermione continued, "And your brother! Did he really just say, 'You can
just go with Ginny, Harry.'?
What a dumb thing for him to say. Why-why do
I even...Oh God- like him?"
Hermione was now sitting against the wall,
with her face burried in her arms wrapped closely around her knees.
Ginny offered her solace by sincerely saying,
"Hermione, it's obviously for some good reason. Maybe it's just that feeling
in your stomach... light and upside down like... I know that feeling..."
There was a pause. "Anyway, my point was I think he is somewhat taken
with you himself, he just hasn't really noticed." She suppressed a chuckle.
"Oh, really Ginny! Don't say that!" But Hermione
was grinning.
"But I mean it!" Ginny was faking an indignant
look at Hermione. Now the girls were both being set into small fits of
giggles. "Besides, Hermione, those things don't matter to us, right?"
Hermione took a breath to ask, "What are you
on about now?"
Ginny answed, "Well, because! Bloody boys are
all stupid!" She mimicked Hermione’s outrage quite well. This of course
sent the two friends into utter hysterics. They spent the rest of the
now delightful evening painting their toenails a sparkly blue color.
