|SIYE Time:18:38 on 23rd May 2017|
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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom
Story is Complete
Summary: Ginny is persuaded to be on a Bachelor-type reality show against her better judgement. Who is the hunk all the women are fighting over? We know him. We love him. But in my story, Ginny's never met him. NOTE: If you think you'll hate this story, read it anyway! I hate reality shows too, you know! lol Trust me, you'll love it...I proclaim in as non-arrogant a way as possible... *sweat drop*
Hitcount: Story Total: 86894; Chapter Total: 4588
Red Like Blood
“Why are you still sleeping? The rose ceremony is in 15 minutes. Get up!” Snapping her eyes open, Ginny stared blearily at Tier leaning over, shaking Ginny’s shoulders.
“Fifteen minutes? No one told me when the bloody ceremony would be taking place. Why didn’t you inform me of this last night?” Ginny muttered angrily. Exhausted after being woken from the middle of a REM cycle, not to mention not getting to finish such a luscious dream, she was not in the best of moods.
Tier, however, was not fazed by Ginny’s crabbiness. “That’s not my fault, sleepy-head. But if you don’t get up now, you won’t look like your beautiful self for Harry Potter.”
Convinced, Ginny jumped quickly out of bed, grabbed her toiletries and took a record breaking 5-minute shower. Grateful once again for magic, Ginny fixed her hair but decided to neglect the make-up because of her lack of time. She skipped breakfast altogether in order to join the other girls in the alcove. As a group they were led down the numerous halls — no wonder I got lost last night! — and into the large room with the stadium seating where the last rose ceremony had taken place.
Not having had time to be nervous up until this point — besides being nervous about being late — Ginny now made up for it with a vengeance.
I’m so close! If I get past this, I’ll at least get another date with him, even if I’m kicked off next time. She wiped her moistened hands on her black slacks and worked hard at stabilizing her breathing. Deep breaths... Don’t hyperventilate… And, oh yeah…get a life…
Connie walked in, heralded by the usual gaudy fanfare, and Ginny had to make herself keep her mind on what was going on. Beside her, she saw Trista cross her fingers and Ginny was quite tempted to do the same.
Connie made some kind of introduction for Harry that Ginny really didn’t pay any attention to and then he was there with a bouquet in his hand. A dozen roses; six of them red, six of them white. Ginny fervently hoped that she would be able to add another red rose to the one she already had on her nightstand.
Things were moving with agonizing slowness as Ginny watched Harry walk up to the dais in front of them and stand in front of the throne-like chair. What’s the point of a chair if he never sits in it? Dumb question…this is a reality show. It’s all about presentation, like the limos here, when they could have just Apparated. Caught up in her internal monologue…again…Ginny almost missed the first part of Harry’s speech, which she would have felt bad about, since she sure did like to hear him talk! It’s sad how many times I have to tell myself to shut up, but I must do it again. Here goes: Shut the heck up.
“I hate decisions like this. I’m indecisive as it is, but when the choice you have to make is one about which you’re not completely sure you have a preference, it is impossible to make a rational decision. What I’m trying to say is that I wish I didn’t have to send any of you home, but, of course, that’s how this show works, so I have to.” There were a few nervous giggles at this point that Ginny realized she had added to. No giggling.
He went on: “I just want you all to know that I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve had together, and I don’t want any of you to be hurt. I know that you will be hurt, and it pains me to be the one to hurt you.” After this, Harry looked at his feet, and Ginny thought she heard him mumble “Let’s just get this over with.” Tears stung at the back of her eyes when she realized how much it hurt him to know that six of the girls in this room would probably be crying within the hour because of something he had decided.
Taking a white rose from the bouquet (he must have decided that giving a red rose last was better than giving a white one last) Harry held it forth in one hand. “Martha Lynn,” he intoned with a slight catch in his throat. Ginny now had a lump in her throat to accompany the stinging tears. Martha stood, and with as much dignity as she could muster, she walked purposefully toward Harry to get her flower, and without missing a step, continued on to the door on the left.
A red rose: “Becky Montgomery.” Grasping the hand of the girl next to her, Becky rose, accepted her flower and walked off, as though in a daze, to the door on the right.
It went on like that. Each white rose caught in Harry’s throat and added to Ginny’s discomfort as she tried, with everything she had, not to cry. Lila Brewer followed Martha to the left and Denise Trager followed Becky to the right. Alexa Montgomery didn’t even try to stop her tears as she pulled the white rose from Harry’s hand and wailed as she took the door on the left. Ginny saw that Harry was now having as hard a time as she was. Oh cripes! Don’t let him start crying or I’ll never make it through this.
Janice was then given a red rose, which Ginny tried not to hold against Harry; Ginny could just imagine how persuasive Janice could be when alone with someone. She felt like she was going to sick up, though, so she tossed all thoughts of Janice out of her head.
Christina Blanche was the next name called to receive a white rose. Head held high, she accepted the rose from Harry’s hand, smelled it for a moment, and shot a watery smile over her shoulder at Ginny before walking toward the left door. Good for you, Christina. No regrets. The tears were dangerously close to falling.
Laurie Bristol was given a red rose, leaving Ginny, Trista and Tier, all seated together, and Elizabeth Crow, one row behind and one seat over. Elizabeth was given the white rose. We can’t all three make it. No! Either Trista, Tier or myself will have to leave. I don’t want that! I wanted all three of us to make it. Don’t do this, please! Ginny didn’t know who she was begging to, which might have been why nothing changed.
Trista left with a red rose, a worried look on her face. Why am I always left until the last? Ginny thought, holding tightly to Tier’s hand. One of us has to go. Why? Why couldn’t all three of us have made it? He didn’t really want Janice to stay; he had wanted Tier all along, I’m sure of it! Her grip on Tier’s hand tightened as Harry separated the last white rose. “Tier Kaiser.” Ginny’s heart fell as surely as her tears.
Turing quickly, Ginny caught Tier in a fierce hug. “I’ll be rooting for you and Trista,” Tier whispered huskily. “You had better not let me down. If either of you let Janice win, I swear, I’ll find out where you live and give you a stern talking to.”
Ginny’s laugh was half-hearted and drowned in her tears. Not able to stand at the moment, Ginny sat and watched Tier walk through the left door with a white rose clutched in her hand. “Ginevra Weasley.” Wiping the tears hurriedly from her eyes, all too aware of the cameras around, Ginny walked toward Harry to receive her rose. Red. Red like blood. Ginny smiled tremulously and walked to the right feeling the blood pulsing through her temples.
I made it, she thought lackadaisically. She looked down at the beautiful rose in her hand. Red like blood; like the blood pumping through her head that was causing the headache that grabbed vise-like directly behind her eyes.
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