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Reality Bites | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom Genres: Comedy Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 760 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: 170978; Chapter Total: 7429 |
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Episode Two The First Rose Harry stood several inches taller than Ginny and as he surveyed the room, Ginny realized that she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Black untamed hair hung in waves to just below his ears, emerald green eyes that peered around him unflinching and his smile… Wait. His smile looked nervous. Interesting. I hadn’t thought that he would be nervous. Wait a minute! What’s he got to be nervous about? All he has to do is choose one of us. Ginny looked around the room, actually seeing the other young women for the first time. They were all very attractive. Er…maybe choosing is a bit more difficult than I would imagine. Perhaps it’s more intimidated than nervous? She looked back at him just as his eyes swept past her. They didn’t stay on her for very long, but it was long enough for her breath to catch and her heart to start racing. No, that’s definitely a nervous smile, she thought…as soon as she was again capable of thought. Why is it that your heart can start racing in a…well, in a heart beat, but it takes what seems like years to get it back to normal? They were all instructed to sit with Harry standing in the middle of a circle of couches and chairs. Talk about being the center of attention. One by one, the 24 women gave their names and small bits of information about themselves. It seemed more for the sake of the viewing audience, since it was unlikely that Harry could see the girl who was speaking past all the cameras that crowded around her. The camera moved ever closer, until finally Trista was speaking beside her. “My name is Trista Clarkson. I work as a freelance writer for the Daily Prophet. I’m 23 years old and I live just south of London with my dad and step-mom and I’m the oldest of 4 children,” she continued, but Ginny found herself incredibly nervous and very much envious of Trista’s calm speech with the cameras in her face. It was finally Ginny’s turn and she just knew she was going to throw up. Do it for Hermione, she thought, wondering where the idea had come from. “My name is Ginevra Weasley. I’m 21 years old and I live in a flat in London. I have 6 older brothers, all of which look very much like me, only, obviously, male,” Did I really just say that? Cripes! “I am currently between jobs, but most recently I was working at St. Mungo’s hospital in the Spell Damage division, specializing in incorrectly applied charms,” She finally was given a view of Harry through the tangle of cameras and after that she couldn’t remember what else she said; all she could remember were his eyes. So green, she thought, like a complete sap. The rest of the girls spoke, but Ginny couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, even when they weren’t directed at her. When his back was turned to her as the cameramen progressed through the room, she continued to stare as though she could see his eyes through the back of his head if she looked hard enough. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. After the introductions Harry excused himself and was led away by Connie Young. When she returned she gave instructions to the men around the room and the girls were led in groups to several rooms to freshen up before what Connie called ‘The Ceremony’. From what Ginny could remember, she believed what happened is that half of them were to be asked to leave immediately, and those that he had stay were given a rose. Or was it the ones that didn’t stay were given a rose? That made more sense to Ginny, since that way those sent home would have gotten something out of the whole ordeal, even if it was just a flower. Ginny and Trista were able to stay together, much to Ginny’s relief; Trista was the only person she’d spoken a word to so far and after her embarrassing interview it was unlikely that any of the other girls would want to talk to her. Maybe her ‘airheadedness’ would rub off. I don’t care if that isn’t a word; it’s bloody well true anyway. Ginny sighed loudly as she checked her make-up in the wall-to-wall mirror she shared with half a dozen other girls. “Goodness, he’s handsome isn’t he?” Trista asked breathlessly. Ginny’s cheeks warmed as she nodded fervently. “Gorgeous,” she breathed. “Did you see his eyes? I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that shade before, at least not accompanied by such an attractive face. And his glasses just make him look so sophisticated. And, ah! His hair! I can’t wait to see him really smile. It’s sure to be as stunning as the rest of him! And —” Ginny suddenly noticed that Trista had stopped looking at herself in the mirror and was now staring straight at Ginny with a look of open amusement. “Well, I think someone is smitten already. I’m surprised you didn’t mention anything about him being the the Boy Who Lived.” Trista laughed softly; little tinkling bells. Ginny wished she could laugh like that. “I guess I never really thought of it. Perfect guy for one of these shows though, huh? I mean, you can’t get much more eligible than that, can you?” The two girls giggled together for a couple of minutes until the nerves set back in. Ginny sighed. “I don’t know what I’m so worried about. There’s no way he’s going to keep me here after I spazzed like that. ‘They look just like me only male.’ I almost died!” “I don’t know,” mused Trista with a twinkle in her eye. “He seemed rather amused to me. Didn’t you see him smiling?” “He smiled?” Ginny whispered. “Yes. He did. In fact, that was the first time I had seen any such expression on him through the whole thing.” Trista went back to fixing her hair. Not that it needed it. Every curl was placed just so and not a hair was out of line. “Now, if only I can be so lucky.” “Don’t even say it!” Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re twice as gorgeous as more than half of the girls out there, including me. And you didn’t make a fool out of yourself.” Trista bit her lip. “I hope you’re right.” Ginny nodded confidently, but on the inside… I hope I’m right too. Ginny had just enough time to reapply her lip gloss — again — before someone was sent in to fetch them. They headed in a different direction than they had come from earlier and before long they found themselves in a room with fifteen foot ceilings and walls of dark gem tones with several floor to ceiling windows draped with curtains that matched the walls in shimmering opacity. There were couches in here as well, though these were placed in stadium seating with the back row a good two feet above the ground. Ginny rushed, while trying to seem not to be rushing, for one of the seats near the floor. It wasn’t that she wanted a front row view, precisely, but after messing up before she was not going to give herself a chance to fall flat on her face! The chairs filled up rapidly, the noise level rising with the occupation of two dozen nervous women chattering amongst themselves. Ginny wasn’t sure she trusted herself to speak. There was only one cameraman in the room at the time…apparently the other million were swarmed around Harry. I wonder if he likes attention, Ginny thought out of nowhere. He probably does, having gotten used to it. Then again, maybe he hasn’t; maybe he’s gotten sick of it. By the time she got to this stage of reasoning she figured that thinking was just as bad as speaking. Ginny contented herself by looking around her. Ginny was quite sure that Trista had been wrong about her getting to stay on the show. Looking at the other girls, there was no way he would choose little Ginny Weasley over some of the other ravishing beauties around her. It wasn’t happening. Trista seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Well, even if we aren’t picked, perhaps we could get the name of one of the serving men.” Her eyes twinkled as she peered interestedly around her. Now that she mentioned it, the men around the room were quite attractive; however, she found herself comparing their eyes with Harry’s. Idiot. I thought there was going to be no more thinking. Despite the fact that that in itself was a thought, Ginny tried to clear her mind and focus on her surroundings. Because of that focus she almost didn’t notice what was going on around her. Focus on the surroundings but not on what’s happening? You really are an idiot! More cameramen began to fill the room and, as Connie stepped in, Ginny anticipated the fanfare that closely followed her arrival. A dais with a large throne-like chair had been placed in the space in front of the seated women and after an announcement Harry walked in and sat down on it. Ginny willed his eyes to find her, but he seemed intensely interested in the toes of his highly polished shoes. He’s so cute when he’s nervous… Augh! Shut up! As the cameramen spread out around the room to get the best shots, Connie walked regally up to Harry and handed him a bouquet of white and red roses. Wait, thought Ginny. What’s the significance in color? She might as well not have asked because it was answered straight away. “Everyone’s name will be called in no particular order. If Harry hands you a red rose, you are to continue on the show and you are to walk through that door where you will be escorted to your rooms,” she said, indicating a doorway to the right and behind the dais. “If you are given a white rose, take the doorway to your left and you will be escorted back outside where your things will be brought and your chauffeurs will take you home. I just wanted to say that I am glad you all could come, and I’m sure Harry is as well,” the man in question blushed as she continued. “But I’ll let him do the talking now.” Harry stood, two dozen roses in his hand. He picked out a red rose and a hush fell over the room. Even the cameras seemed to be silent. Had they been making noise before? She couldn’t remember. Stop that! she scolded herself. “This was a really hard decision,” Harry began. His eyes swept past them all again and Ginny felt her heart beat quicken as they met her own. “I wish I could get to know all of you, but I do have to make this choice. So, without any more delay,” Connie looked slightly vexed at this statement; apparently she had been expecting more of a speech. “Laurie Bristol,” he intoned. The named girl, tears of jubilation in her eyes, walked to the front where Harry handed her the red rose and she walked through the door on the right. Next Harry took out a white rose. Ginny heard several intakes of breath and figured that many of them had momentarily stopped breathing. She was one of them. “Carri William,” Ginny heard the girl sniffle and had to look away before she too burst into tears. This is so depressing! She knew she would start crying if she was given a white rose, but at the same time, she was afraid she would cry just as hard if she was given a red rose. With agonizing slowness Harry continued to hand out roses, first a red, then a white, until there were only nine roses left. Three more of them would be chosen to stay. Anything could happen at this point. Then again, anything could have happened at any point before now. Harry picked a white rose from among the others. This is going to be me. I know it’s going to be me, Ginny lamented. “Candyce Robins.” Ginny let out her breath again and felt suddenly lightheaded. She was so nervous, she almost didn’t care what rose she got as long as the tension was ended! A red rose and Trista was no longer by her side. She turned to flash an encouraging smile back at Ginny before stepping through the door on the right. A white rose. Still not Ginny. A red rose. Still not Ginny. A white rose. No. There were now only two of them left. Two roses; two incredibly nervous girls. Harry separated the last red rose from the white. There were cameramen no more than three feet from all three of them, catching every twitch of the eye, every drop of sweat. And still he held the rose. “Ginevra Weasley.” She wasn’t expecting it. She had waited so long for her name to be called that she couldn’t believe it at first. She stood. She walked toward the dais, reached out her hand and got caught in his eyes. “Congratulations,” he whispered with a small smile. Her own smile just about split her face in two. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not — she heard the last girl crying from where she still sat and found that her feet had stopped moving. She turned back as the girl collapsed to the floor with her sobs. Ginny, being the closest person, besides the cameramen who were having a field day at this poor girls expense, she rushed to her side, pulling the girl’s head onto her shoulder as she wept. It could have been me. Ginny kept thinking. Smoothing the girl’s hair back, Ginny found that her own cheeks were moist so glaring at the cameras she helped the girl get to her feet. “Joice Turner,” Harry whispered as he stepped down from the dais to hand Joice her rose. She took it, trying hard to smile and Ginny helped her walk to the door. Connie was waiting for her there so Ginny gave her over to the brisk woman and walked hesitantly to the other side of the room. Stepping through the door on the right with a red rose firmly held in her hand, Ginny realized for the first time just how much this was all going to hurt. Whether she lasted until the end, or was eliminated during the next Ceremony, this was really going to hurt. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Yay! Chapter three...er..two...is up! I'm going to have to get used to the idea that my chapters one and two are now chapter one. If I mess up, you'll all know why! Because I am a complete and utter fool. Anywha, thanks for your reviews, and I hope to get more *winks* Jaa, mata ne! |
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