Glimpses by morphin3



Summary: A series of one-shots featuring our favorite couple. I'll try to keep them in chronological order!
Rating: PG starstarstarstarhalf-star
Categories: Post-OotP
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2017.09.26
Updated: 2017.09.26


Glimpses by morphin3
Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Bag
Author's Notes:

Ginny is having one hell of a morning. Her alarm didn’t go off, so she was late to breakfast, but she was so hungry that she still attempted to fix her normal amount of toast, which made her late to History of Magic. Also, while scooting into her seat, she dropped the last two pieces of toast and they landed on her skirt, jam-side down, before sliding slowly down her stocking and coming to rest next to her book bag. Hell of a morning? Make that a morning from hell.

“Ugh,” Ginny groans under her breath, peeking under her desk to survey her jam-smeared skirt and left shin. She can feel the stickiness of the jam oozing through her tights, and Ginny thumps her head onto her desk. Her stomach growls loudly, and Ginny shuts her eyes in frustration. Late alarm, less-than-filling breakfast, late to class, sticky tights, plus a headache now raging behind her eyes, all in the first hour of the day. Merlin.

“Ginny?” Luna’s soft, dreamy voice interrupts her wallowing.

Ginny opens her eyes and turns, but doesn’t lift her head off the desk. “Hi, Luna,” Ginny whispers dully.

Luna doesn’t seem to notice her less-than-enthusiastic greeting, and points at the trail of jam on Ginny’s wardrobe. “Want me to Tergeo it for you, or are you trying to attract a dabberblimp?”

“A what, Luna?” Ginny’s head is too heavy for her to follow her friend’s question.

“A dabberblimp. They live in the water, but sometimes they can be tempted to come ashore with something sweet. Do you want one to find you, or shall I clean your clothes off for you?”

“You can clean them. Thanks, Luna.” Ginny smiles at her friend and, with great effort, hoists her head off the desk. Luna points her wand at Ginny’s legs and Ginny feels the stickiness leave her skirt and tights. At least one part of the morning can be corrected.

Ginny manages to stay awake through Professor Binns’ monotonous lecture, but her stomach rumbles the whole time. As soon as the bell rings, she grabs her things and bolts, waving a hasty farewell to Luna over her shoulder. Just last week, her mum had sent a care package , and Ginny was thankful that she had forced herself to save a couple treacle tarts.

Ginny glances at her watch as she climbs the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Five minutes until her next class, which is barely enough time to make it to her room and back to class. Ginny speeds up, heart and head pounding with every step. She reaches the Fat Lady and barely lets the portrait greet her before blurting the password and pushing through to the Common Room. “No manners,” she hears the Fat Lady exclaim behind her.

“No time for manners,” Ginny mutters to herself as she rushes up the staircase to her room. The dorm is empty; all the other Fifth Year Gryffindor girls are probably already outside for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Ginny hurls herself at her trunk and flings it open, shoving aside the pajamas she had hastily discarded earlier. Aha! Brown paper is sticking out under a pair of stockings. Ginny grabs the package, careful not to crush its contents. She lets the lid of her trunk slam shut as she turns to leave the room.

Ginny makes it out of Gryffindor Tower and is halfway to the Entrance Hall when she opens her care package. She stops in her tracks. Inside the brown paper is not a delicious treacle tart made lovingly by her mother’s hands, but instead a coiled rubber snake...and a note? Suspiciously, Ginny reaches into the paper wrapping and pulls out a scrap of parchment, on which is written: Have some fun with this, Gin. We just developed it! - Gred and Forge

Ginny groans. Of all the times for Fred and George to sneak a trick pastry into her mail…. She appreciates the gesture, really, and wishes she had discovered it sooner, as her stomach is still grumbling, more insistently now, but she is going to be late for her second class today if she doesn’t hurry.

Shoving the note and the toy snake into her bag, Ginny starts running. Out the door, down the stairs, and across the grass, she dashes all the way to the spot where her Care of Magical Creatures class is gathering. Ginny ducks her head -which is aching even more after her sprint- to avoid catching Hagrid’s eye as she joins her classmates. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice her tardiness or if he does, he doesn’t comment.

Ginny finds herself looking longingly towards the castle as the class goes on. Normally Hagrid’s classes are engaging and Ginny enjoys them, but today… her stomach has stopped rumbling and has settled into an unpleasant knot; her head is pounding more insistently, and halfway through class, Ginny realizes that her textbook is not in her bag. She curses under her breath. “Could this day get any worse?” she mutters.

Finally, after what feels like the longest Care of Magical Creatures class in her life, Hagrid dismisses them. Ginny hikes her bag over her shoulder and falls into step with the rest of her class trekking across the grounds. At the Entrance Hall, most of her classmates head towards the Great Hall for lunch, but Ginny forces herself to head back to Gryffindor Tower. Despite Luna’s earlier Tergeo, Ginny can feel her stockings sticking to her shins, and she wants to make sure she has the right books in her bag for her afternoon classes. With a great sigh, Ginny begins to climb the stairs.

Halfway up the stairs, two eager First Years rush past her, bumping her into the railing. A terrible ripping sound catches Ginny’s attention a moment before her textbooks tumble onto her feet. One lands directly on the arch of her left foot; one hits her shin and then bounces down a few stairs; and one, the heaviest, A History of Magic, thumps solidly onto her right foot and stays there as if taunting her.

Ginny’s jaw drops, but no sound comes out of her mouth. Then she notices the toy snake sliding down the stairs as well, and a few of her quills are rolling away from her, and her essay for McGonagall, the one she spent hours working on, is getting trampled on by other students on the stairs. Ginny can take no more: tears spring to her eyes, and against her will, a great hiccuping sob escapes her.

She stands there helplessly, a few tears tracing down her cheeks as she watches her things roll down the stairs and get stepped on by careless, hungry students. Her head aches very badly, and it’s all she can do not to have a complete melt-down and collapse right there on the stairs. As if to join the misery party, her stomach gives a pathetic grumble.

“Ginny?” A voice behind her forces her back to the present. Harry is standing two stairs above her, looking concerned and slightly flushed. “Do you, er, need some help?” He motions to her feet, and Ginny nods miserably.

Harry crouches and begins picking up her books. “Ouch. Did they land right on you?” He looks up at her and Ginny nods again. He looks away quickly, and Ginny blushes. She’s heard Harry tell Ron and Hermione about how uncomfortable he was when Cho cried, and Ginny takes a deep breath.

She wipes her face on her sleeve and hunches next to Harry, reaching for her Transfiguration essay. With a few mild cleaning charms and some Spell-o-tape, she may be able to salvage it. Ginny folds the parchment carefully and moves to put it in her bag, then pauses, realizing that her essay was on the floor only because her bag split. “Bugger,” she whispers emphatically, staring at the frayed edges of what was the seam. “Bugger it all to hell,” she says louder, and Harry turns towards her.

“Oh, no, is that what started all this?” He’s looking at her bag, and then his eyes meet hers, and she swears he blushes. Interesting. She decides that maybe, just maybe, her day may improve. She smiles at Harry, and now she is sure of his blush.

Ginny moves to pick up the toy snake that is two steps below them and answers Harry, “Actually, this whole morning has been a bloody nightmare. But yes, the bag is what started-” she waves her arm around at the mess radiating from them “-this specific situation.”

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Harry says quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?” He stacks her textbooks on the stair next to his knee and reaches for her bag. “Reparo,” he mutters with a wave of his wand.

She takes the bag from him with a soft “thanks,” making sure their hands touch, and picks up her books and loads them into the bag. She considers Harry’s question; she could tell him about her hellish day, could vent and rage, and then what? Say goodbye, thanks for listening, and go back to class? Would she feel better afterwards? Possibly. Or…

“Would you go flying with me, Harry?” she asks suddenly, surprising herself. Harry appears just as shocked, and she clarifies, “I mean, not right now. I want to eat an actual meal first, but after classes? This day has truly been awful, and I think,” she sighs, trying to push all the incidents of the morning out of her mind, “I think that a fly would do me good.”

Her eyes close as she pictures herself on her broom, soaring around the grounds. Just thinking about flying makes her feel better, and Ginny smiles to herself, forgetting for a moment that she was late to two classes earlier, that her stomach is growling insistently, that her bag split, that Harry is kneeling on the stairs next to her.

“I’ll go flying with you,” Harry blurts, yanking Ginny out of her reverie. Her jaw drops a little, and Harry stammers, “After dinner, er, I’ll meet you outside the Great Hall, and, uh, we’ll go flying.”

Ginny shuts her mouth abruptly and then grins at Harry. He hesitantly smiles back at her. Ginny takes the opportunity to appreciate the green of Harry’s eyes, and unconsciously she licks her lips. Harry’s gaze flicks to her mouth, and Ginny’s stomach twists in a way that is not related to hunger.

“Oi, Harry!” Ron’s voice cuts through the faint buzzing in Ginny’s ears, and she and Harry both look down the stairs. Ron is standing between the staircase and the entrance to the Great Hall, motioning for Harry to join him. “Come on! Hurry up, I’m starving!”

Harry looks back at Ginny. She rolls her eyes at Ron and grabs three loose quills off the ground, shoving them into her now-repaired bag. “Go ahead, Harry, I’ve got it here,” she tells him, standing. Harry stands up as well, handing her the last few parchments from the ground. She takes it from him, fingers sparking as they skim his, and he glances at her quickly as he takes a step down the stairs. She smiles at him again, “See you later, Harry.”

He moves down a couple more stairs, still looking at her. “See you after dinner, Ginny,” he says, grinning, and then he turns and jogs down the stairs towards Ron, who, seeing Harry’s approach, is already almost to the doors of the Great Hall. Ginny stands still for a moment, thinking about the last few minutes, and then she sees Harry, pausing before the doors, look back at her and wave. Ginny grins and waves back; Harry moves his hand to tousle his hair and then he goes in to lunch. Ginny’s grin widens. Perhaps this day will end much better than it began.

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