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The Pillarrot | ||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Humor Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 16 Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated since 2004 *** Set during Harry's sixth year. After a trip to Hogsmeade, things seemingly go wrong when a pillarrot leads Harry and Ginny on a chase deep into the vastness of the forbidden forest. It is during their time together that both Harry and Ginny learn the meanings of bonds, love... and sexual tension??? 2part fic Hitcount: Story Total: 3453 |
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the harry potter world, all of it is strictly J.K. Rowlings, for she is brilliant! Damn, insufferable writers block… Beyond the Veil is still on hold because my inspiration as yet to return so that I can kick him in the rear for being away so long. I still have yet to realize why my inspiration is considered a ‘he’… I would really appreciate reviews, they mean a lot… Anyway, italics are the characters thoughts, and be sure, they’ll be a lot of random thoughts by our beloved characters ensued. Anyway, when I came up with the plot of this, I had intended it to be only a one-shot but as I kept writing, I discovered that it would be easier for me if I split it into two chapters, thus, this will be a 2 chaptered story. I hope you enjoy… < center>The Pillarrot Saturday morning dawned bright and warm over the towers and turrets of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bathing each intricate stone of the castle in red streaked, golden hued light. A Gryffindor morning, one could say when gazing upward. Of course, all attention seemed to neglect the afternoon sky for the peaceful sight down the road, the truly magical village of Hogsmeade. The chill of winter was barren from school grounds that particular day and in its stead was a warm breeze that stirred the trees into a haunting dance, causing students to shed of their robes in favor of uniforms. That Saturday found four students, two wizards, and two witches walking leisurely down the road, money sacks full of coins just waiting to be spent. Harry Potter kept his eyes trained on the ground as he walked, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his trousers, the other grasping at the cloak he had thrown lazily over his shoulder as he gave only half of his attention to what his friends were saying. It was a nice day, perfect for a day in Hogsmeade and a perfect day away from Hogwarts where his homework assignments lay menacingly as they waited to be completed. Hermione Granger had of course berated him about not finishing it yesterday like she had done, but it had been the start of the weekend and he was knackered. His other best friend, Ron Weasley had of course agreed with him and neglected to finish his homework as well. And then, it was also a perfect day to just get away from the troubles of being himself, away from the troubles that came with being Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived. “Fred and George owled me saying that they might open a shop in Hogsmeade and pay Lee to watch it for them,” Ron was saying, looking over at Hermione whom was drawing in a deep breath of fresh end-of-winter air and let the sun warm her face. At Ron’s statement, she opened her brown eyes and arched an eyebrow. “Then what are they going to do about the shop in Diagon Alley? Besides, Lee can’t run a joke shop in Hogsmeade all by himself…” She said. Ron shrugged. “Well Fred and George agreed to watch the shop in the alley for weekdays, but then take over for Lee in Hogsmeade on weekends, so they’ll be switching schedules,” He explained. A snort sounded loudly somewhere on Harry’s right. “Like we need Fred and George hanging around here on weekends. I’d of course agree whole-heartedly for them to come when Umbridge was here, but seeing as they were still students…” Ginny Weasley’s sentence floated unfinished, her eyes shining with mischief as she walked alongside Harry, red hair flashing like ribbons of fire beneath the sun. Harry chuckled and nodded his head as they continued onward toward the village, the stream of students, third year and above, nearing the spindly gates. Laughter and shouts filled the carefree atmosphere, despite the ongoing war, and he could not help but sigh with content, preferring the familiar sounds of his school mates rather then the yell of hexes and blood curdled screams that constantly haunted his nightmares. His sixth year had begun off to a slow start in which he was slowly but surely on the road to a rocky recovery from the death of his Godfather Sirius Black, courtesy of Ginevra Weasley, for which he would be eternally grateful. The scars were still there, yes, and some would never heal, but at least some parts of his old self had been salvaged. Just when he thought his wounds would forever be salted by the onslaught of pain that came with existing, he had gained a new friend whom had finally been able to stitch together the wound and close it up. Over the summer, after a fleeting stay at number four, Privet Drive with the Dursleys, Harry had been taken back to Grimmauld Place where the absence of Sirius had stabbed him again, coating his reopened wounds with guilt, resentment and despair. On his plunge into darkness, a light had pulled him out and guided him away. Much to his surprise, it had been little Ginny Weasley, a person whom he had come to realize was not so little anymore and had suffered in ways just as he did. The youngest Weasley had, over time, become his kindred spirit. And for the first time in his life, he felt ok speaking his feelings aloud. Harry still wasn’t sure if Ginny really understood the extent of his feelings for her, but he showed his thanks in little things that spoke big words. A personal letter, a quiet talk by the fire, and occasionally even an embrace. Ron and Hermione didn’t seem to understand their relationship either but spoke nothing of it, at least not to him. For this, he was glad. As long as they were here for him, then all was fine. “Harry? Harry? Earth to Harry, come in, Harry!” Called a voice, a hand waving in front of his face, causing him to start. Ginny giggled and retracted her hand. “You ok, Potter? Seemed a bit lost there…” She asked, grinning cheerfully. Harry gave a shake of his head to clear the remnants of his reverie and nodded, returning the grin as they entered through the handsome gates of Hogsmeade. “Never better, Weasley…” He said softly, his fingers already itching at the money bag tucked in his front pocket. Feeling a sense of excitement that he hadn’t felt since his first day of Hogwarts, Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and they ran, Hermione and Ron close at their tails. The four had just came out of Honeydukes, money sacks considerably lighter and Ron already shoveling chocolate frogs into his mouth much to the disgusted dismay of Hermione, when they came upon a most bewildering sight. Ginny immediately began to giggle. Ron choked on his chocolate frog. Neville was trudging up the hill toward them, a hand covered with an intricate assortment of handmade rings made from gleaming butterbeer caps tucked carefully on his arm. This did not take them aback nearly as much as the hat perched precariously upon the top of his date’s blond head did. It had a wide, emerald brim that obscured most of her face from view, but what caught their undivided attention was the heavily stuffed bird fastened in mid flap of its crude wings upon the top of the hat. Harry was distantly reminded of Neville’s Gran as he watched them draw closer. “Hi, guys…” Neville greeted. All four of their eyes, however, were still glued to the top of Luna’s head, which caused them failure to notice their fellow Gryffindor. “Hello everyone, I take it that you like my new hat?” Luna’s protuberant blue eyes watched them all at once. Harry broke his gaze on the hat and cleared his throat, not quite sure how to answer. Ginny was hiding a grin into his back while Ron and Hermione shook their heads, flabbergasted. Staring up at her, he silently wondered if that bird was supposed to be… what was it called? A Crumple-horned snorkie? “Er… well it’s very interesting, Luna,” Answered Ginny, causing Harry to snicker. She none-too-gently elbowed him in the stomach until he went silent. “Say, is that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack?” She asked as if reading his mind while reaching out to touch her fingers to the bird, although she quickly retracted her hand at the fear that the bird might come alive and bite off her fingers. Luna shook her head. “Goodness no, they’re endangered, you know. My daddy says when he retires from The Quibbler, he’s going to open a preserve for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack right here in Britain. Isn’t that lovely?” Not giving them a chance to mumble replies, she continued. “Neville promised that when he becomes a herbologist, he’ll set up the perfect habitat for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack with plants that come only from Sweden. They need to feel at home, you know…” At this, Neville blushed proudly as Luna sent him a fleeting look of adoration, her hand tightening on his arm. At first, the four didn’t know how to respond but Hermione quickly found her voice again. “Well then what sort of bird is that?” She asked, pointing up at Luna’s hat. “I’ve read through our Care of Magical creatures text books at least twice and I’ve never seen a bird like that before…” Hermione stated, looking very much affronted that something had gotten past her knowledge. Ron appeared as though he was going to comment on that bit of new information but seemed to think better of it and shut his mouth again. Luna’s eyes grew very big. “It’s a Pillarrot, of course,” She said, tugging down the brim of the hat over her ears to keep it from toppling off her blond head. Hermione looked dubious at this and set her hands on her hips, a very Slytherinish smirk pulling at her lips. Luna didn’t seem to notice, and if she did, she ignored it, “It’s almost like a duck; they aren’t made to fly. Of course, I don’t believe that for a minute since my daddy saw a whole flock of them flying over Buckingham palace in London during the holidays on his way to work.” She explained enthusiastically, her wide blue eyes roving dreamily up to the clouds. Hermione snorted a little. “Your ‘daddy’ sees a lot of things, doesn’t he?” She asked wryly. Failing to notice the sarcasm in her voice, Luna said nonplussed, “Yes, my daddy is very observant, how else did you think he could get all those pictures for The Quibbler, silly?” Hermione’s mouth dropped open agape and she mouthed wordlessly like a fish until crossing her arms with a huff. Ron snickered madly over a mouthful of chocolate, causing her to glare at him. He went silent. “Anyway, the Pillarrot is famous for smuggling goods off of truly, imbecilic wizards and witches, goblins used to keep them as pets to steal gold, you know.” Neville was hanging on her every word, “Even though they supposedly can’t fly, they’re wickedly fast on their feet and have a brilliant set of jagged teeth for biting items off of unexpected wizards.” She explained excitedly, before promptly snapping out at Ron, her teeth bared, to grab the pumpkin pasty he had been working open. Hermione righted him back on his feet before he could fall to the ground in shock, as Luna plucked the still wrapped sweet from between her front teeth to eat it herself. Ginny was giggling madly into the shoulder of a very startled Harry, whom like all five of them, had started at Luna’s abrupt demonstration. “I met Neville’s dear gran when I was in Diagon Alley during the holidays to buy my school books, and I thought her hat was quite lovely, so I made one myself.” She said dreamily, gazing up at the sky above again. The clouds were reflected off of her eyes. There was a very loud silence that followed with her explanation of the Pillarrot, where Ron seemed to have recovered from the shock of Luna’s attack and narrowed his eyes at her for taking his pumpkin pasty. Ginny’s brown eyes were bright with good-natured laughter, and Hermione appeared to still be bewildered with the blond ravenclaw. Neville, on the other hand, was gazing with awe at his date, his mouth slightly agape. Harry, like Ginny, found this all very comical and gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he did so. “Er… Right,” He said awkwardly. That would explain why it looks like Mrs. Longbottom’s stuffed vulture hat, he thought to himself as he studied the top of Luna’s head with fascination. “You owe me a pumpkin pasty, they don’t grow on bushes, you know…” Ron said to Luna after a long moment of startled silence. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t you mean trees, Ron?” She snapped, still somewhat angry after never hearing of the pillarrot before. Ron turned his narrowed eyes away from Luna and directed them at Hermione. “Bushes, trees… Same thing, Hermione, it doesn’t matter…” He sighed sharply with exasperation before stuffing a handful of Bertie Bott’s every flavor beans into his mouth with a loud smack of his lips. Snarling at his appalling eating habits, Hermione’s face grew very red. “Of course it matters, Ron! You can’t go around saying the wrong expressions; people will think you’re completely thick.” She argued, stepping closer to Ron’s towering form. The top of her bushy brown head barely touched the bottom of his freckled chin, he was so tall. Harry and others exchanged a look as the warning bells rung in their ears to escape before a full blown row broke out and erupted. Luna didn’t seem to notice, but continued to watch them with glazed eyes. “Hermione, I think you’re trying to tell me something,” At this, Ron cupped a mock hand to his ear. Hermione’s eyes flashed indignantly, and she breathed harshly through her nostrils like an infuriated bull seeing red, “I think what you’re trying to say is that I’m completely daft, am I right?” Growled Ron, arms crossed angrily. Passing shoppers and students were beginning to stare and Harry, Ginny, Neville (dragging Luna) were slowly backing away, trying to be as discreet as three teenagers and a girl wearing a hat topped with a stuffed bird could be. “I didn’t say you were daft, Ron!” “Then what did you say?! Because it sounded to me like you were calling me daft!” “I said you were thick! Not Daft!” She shrieked. Ron threw up his hands, his Honeydukes bag falling to the ground forgotten, and his assortment of sweets spilled across the cobblestones. “It’s the same thing!” Meanwhile, a little off to the side, Harry sighed in exasperation, his shoulders drooping. They really were impossible... He was about to enter the war zone and come between his two friends when a red-headed distraction stopped him. Ginny tugged on the sleeve of Harry’s shirt, “Come on, let’s go to the three broomsticks until their row blows over…” She whispered, still staring at the two bickering Gryffindors. Nodding wordlessly, Harry let Ginny drag him away down the cobblestone road, past Honeydukes and Zonko’s after bidding Neville and Luna farewell. They paused to watch Luna start flapping her arms and cawing madly, no doubt the call of the pillarrot, before continuing onward to the three broomsticks, eager to indulge in the delights of a butterbeer. “Two butterbeers please, one cold,” Harry ordered above the noise of rowdy shoppers and twittering students, before placing the money on the countertop of the three broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta nodded her curly blond head and sent Harry a grin that made him weak in the knees. “Anything for you, handsome…” She teased, flashing him a wink before turning around to pull down two tankards for him. Only when her back was turned to him did Harry finally allow himself to blush. Their was only a handful of occasions that people (mostly woman) told him he was a handsome young man, but each time was like hearing it for the first time. Aunt Petunia had certainly not been one to help boost his confidence over the years; she was too busy fawning over Dudley, whom Harry reckoned fancied himself a stud. Yeah, because six chins and a belly the size of Grawp’s arse is the ultimate turn-on among woman nowadays, mused Harry to himself with a snort whilst he waited for Madam Rosmerta to finish their order. After retrieving their drinks with gusto (Madam Rosmerta winked at him again), he searched for Ginny across the pub and saw that she had chosen a small table for them near the back. He distantly wondered, as he saw the two other empty chairs, if Ron and Hermione had stopped bickering long enough to even take notice of their blatant absence and come looking for them. With any luck, they would stop arguing and just snog each other senseless, Harry knew Ginny would say. She smiled warmly at him as he approached and a strange look passed across her face when Harry placed the tankard of butterbeer down before her. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion and studied her drink. “How did you know that I liked my butterbeer cold?” Ginny asked, that strange expression disappearing as quickly as it had come. In reply, he flashed her a triumphant sort of grin over the top of his as he sat down, and set aside his cloak. Darn, I should have left it back up in my dormitory. “I’m observant, I guess you could say. I notice the little things about people… Especially about the way they eat.” Harry told her, sighing peacefully after a long swig of butterbeer that imploded his stomach with a satisfying warmth. Ginny cocked her head slightly to one side. “Oh? How so?” She queried curiously. Harry gave her a half smile. “Well, I notice that you like your butterbeer cold,” A smile began to form at the edges of Ginny’s lips as he pointed at her drink, “Hermione has exactly two pieces of toast during breakfast, one slice of white, one slice of rye. Ron has a portion of everything for dinner except peas and carrots, and after eating treacle tart, Neville likes to use his right pinky finger to pick up the crumbs and eat them until his plate is completely clean…” Ginny stared at him in a moment of complete silence, a look of wonder alight on her freckled face before dissolving into a fit of giggles that nearly upset her tankard of cold butterbeer. Harry noticed that she also giggled a lot, and decided silently that he rather liked her laugh. It was pretty… Sort of a like a bell… He hastily pushed that observation out of his head and cleared his throat. When Ginny finally recovered from her bout of laughter, she wiped an errant tear of mirth away from her eye, “Well, Mr. Potter, here I was thinking you were completely oblivious, but it seems you have proved me wrong.” She said, eyes shining brightly. He blushed. Suddenly a veil seemed to have fluttered across her face, darkening her features and dimming the twinkle that he had just seen winking fiercely in her eyes. She growled. “Now if only Ron could take a leaf out of your book and stop to notice Hermione, honestly!” She said, slamming her tankard down onto the table with more force than necessary, while causing some of its contents to slosh out onto the table. Harry raised a cautious hand to her, “Careful, that butterbeer was my treat…” He said. Ginny seemed to not have heard him, and if she did, then she ignored him. “And Hermione’s a whole other story, I know she fancies him, she told me so herself for Merlin’s sake!” Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and Ginny seemed to realize her mistake a moment later because she clapped a hand over her mouth and gave a feeble gasp of horror. Feeling sorry for her, he offered a small smile and shrugged as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’. It wasn’t as if he really didn’t know that already anyway, Hermione could be very obvious about her emotions sometimes, just like Ron, that being another reason why they deserved each other. And it wasn’t like he and Ginny hadn’t talked about Ron and Hermione’s relationship either. Au contraire, they had spoken about it all the time, especially during the summer, and decided that the two fancied the pants’ off each other and needed to come out and say it. For everyone’s sake. There had to have been a reason, other than anger, why two people bickered so much, and Harry suspected that Ron and Hermione secretly took pleasure in their redundant rows, a guilty pleasure at that. Or maybe it was because of something, according to Ginny, called sexual tension? Psh, whatever that is… “Oh, no… I didn’t just say that…” Ginny’s muffled whisper came around the hand still clamped over her mouth. Harry nodded sympathetically but then shrugged again. “Don’t worry, Gin, it’s not as if I couldn’t figure it out myself… Hermione’s not exactly a hard cover to read…” She shook her head, a flustered red pooling in her cheeks. Her freckles were stark bright against the blush, and Harry unconsciously found that he liked the site of it. It reminded him of when she was eleven. “No, you don’t understand…Oh, Harry, I’m so horrible…” Harry shook his head in protest, but she continued, “Hermione had me swore to her that I wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone and here I am blabbering on away to you…” She abandoned her butterbeer and covered her face with both hands, her flaming red hair drawing a curtain around her features. If there was anything Harry knew Ginny hated above most things, it was people that betrayed secrecy to others, especially their friends. It was a hate resulting from the memory of Tom Riddle, whom had been sure to hiss some of her deepest, most private secrets to Harry down in the chamber below the school… After that, she had sworn to be the best secret keeper, a witch could be. Instantly he felt bad for her, as he surveyed her distress, and a small voice, somewhere deep in his subconscious, told him to reach out and comfort her somehow. But knowing him, Harry mused with a strange sort of panic he hadn’t felt before; he’d just end up making her cry or something equally as horrible. Bloody buggering hell! What should I do now? Nonetheless, he had to do something, she was his friend after all and it was his job as that ‘friend’ to help her. Swallowing a very uncomfortable wedge in his throat, Harry leaned over across the table, uncertain, and gingerly pulled away one of the hands covering her face. The gesture seemed kind enough, and as a large moist, brown eye opened and stared back at him, something very warm dropped into the depths of his stomach. That was all the encouragement he needed. He gently took both of her hands in his and laced their fingers, albeit clumsily, together, while feeling very unsure and very scared. It was strange, but he rather liked the feel of such small hands in his larger ones. They were delicate, but felt just as callused, most likely from playing Quidditch, like his. Harry’s fingers wove across her own, and he stared down at their joined hands for a moment, feeling very odd indeed. She too was gazing down at their hands, that strange expression clouding her features again. Ginny then looked back up at his face, her lips tugging up into a grin. Merlin above… It was then in the three broomsticks, sitting across from Ginevra Weasley that Harry Potter was struck with how beautiful she truly was. Everything else melted against the sight of her seated only a few feet away from him, red hair streaked with hues of gold and copper, sort of like a sunset. Her hair looked like a sunset… Or maybe a Gryffindor dawn...? Ginny’s hair framed her oval shaped face, and a light smattering of freckles stretched across the bridge of her small nose. If he looked hard enough, he might have just been able to count each one too… And he had called himself an observant person whom noticed things… Psh…Harry gulped. “You must think I’m a complete cow…” She whispered at last with a watery smile. He shook his head, wrenched from his reverie, and said, “No, I think you’re quite lovely…” Oh, kill me now, did I just say that?! Mentally, Harry slapped himself squarely across the face and cursed. The surprise was evident on her face in the widening of her eyes and the slight parting of her lips. Harry could feel the rush of heat to his face and he tore his gaze away from hers to stare mutely down at his lap, feeling very stupid and slightly frightened. Of all the things to say… He had never said anything like that in his entire life, not even to Cho Chang, and no matter how true what he said was, the words still felt completely foreign on his tongue. Like he had spoken a strange sort of alien language… and it wasn’t parseltongue… Bless me, I just complimented a girl… He always had thought Ginny was attractive, but he never put in much thought on the matter. Harry thought of her, much like he would think of Hermione. Another girl, another friend… A close friend whom was a girl… But now that he meticulously thought about it, Ginny was something Hermione definitely was not. Ginny was a girl… and he meant Girl… While Hermione was like a sister to him, Ginny most certainly was not. Something intangible and nameless existed solely between him and her, what was that word again…Potential Sexual tension?? Hmmm… Still not quite sure what that means, maybe they’ll have a book on it in the library or something… A pressure was starting to build behind Harry’s forehead. I really need to get myself a pensieve… Maybe Dumbledore can lend me his? No, that wouldn’t do, not at all… He’d of course ask me why and I’m sure as hell not going to tell him, the bloke knows enough about me, thank you very much. I wonder if he could read minds… He probably does, he knows everything about everyone. Maybe he’s reading my mind right now… Oh for the love of Merlin, I will not think about the color of my red boxer shorts! Oh, fiddlesticks! I wonder if Snape would let me see his pensieve again. No, the chance of that happening is as much likely as the chance that Voldemort will crawl under some rock in Majorca, shrivel up Aunt Marge’s arse and die…That, of course, would just be too easy and Merlin forbid that I have one less thing in my life to worry about. Ugh, now I really need a pensieve because frankly, all this thinking is making my brain hurt… Harry was pulled from the storm of random ramblings in his panicked mind when a familiar hand tightened around his own. Giving his head a brief shake to clear the cobwebs, he looked up to find that Ginny was still seated there in the three broomsticks, staring at him and still looking quite lovely. But, what was most lovely about Ginevra Weasley right then was the fact that she was grinning, and at him… A grin that told him ‘thank you, Harry, I think you’re quite lovely too’. That smile worked its magic around him, enclosing them in a mesh of brilliant light that prodded them closer together as if, by invisible hands. The hazy atmosphere around them had become dizzying and wonderful all at once, sort of like a ride on a broom, and Harry was sure that Ginny must have been able to hear the quickening of his pulse. Somewhere around inside his midriff, a part of him was choking with emotion, and Harry was convinced that if he looked down, blood would be pouring from where his heart was. And somewhere, far away from Hogsmeade, a wizard by the name of Tom Riddle was clawing at his black robes, peeling them away in dismay to find the pallid skin above his black heart, was starting to darken and burn. His snake like nose wrinkled at the smell of his own lacerated flesh. The blush drained from Harry’s face and he returned the smile, his enlaced fingers tightening. Yes, everything was still alright, everything was still good… “There you two are!” The magic was instantly shattered and their hands tore away from one another’s in the abrupt end of their emotional ritual. Harry nearly gasped from the sudden withdrawal and it looked as though Ginny thought the same. “We have been looking all over for you two! Why didn’t you tell us that you would be here?” Asked Hermione who plopped down in the empty seat beside Ginny and set her shopping bags down on the table with a sharp flourish that nearly sent their butterbeer tankards crashing off the table. Ron, who seemed to have retrieved his Honeydukes sweets and was busy sucking on a sugar quill, nodded and reached for Harry’s tankard. Harry glared and pulled it out of Ron’s impending reach. “What do you mean, why didn’t we tell you? You two,” And at this, Ginny pointed two, long, accusing fingers at Ron and Hermione, “Were to busy screaming pointlessly in each other’s faces to actually notice that Harry and I still existed.” She snapped, crossing her arms and glowered darkly at the table with furrowed brows. Hermione had the decency to look apologetic and mumbled a quiet ‘sorry, Ginny, sorry Harry…’. But, Ron was staring at Ginny with an annoyed expression and leaned back in his chair haphazardly. “Oy, what’s the matter with you?” He asked, taking the sugar quill from his mouth and pointing it at her. Ginny stiffened and Harry had a distinct feeling he knew what was bothering her, just as it was bothering him. The youngest Weasley turned her head to look at her older brother, her eyes narrowed. “None of your business, Ronald.” She growled in a tone not unlike Hermione’s. Ron shook his head and put his sugar quill to his lips with a noticeable roll of his eyes. He then mumbled something under his breath, “Looks like it’s that time of the month again…” Harry blushed and instantly knew that, that was the wrong thing for his best mate to say in front of two already angry females. Voldemort be damned next to the wrath of a woman… There was a moment of silence where Hermione and Ginny began to steam with fury and fire flickered behind their widened eyes. Harry was sure that he could feel the heat of anger rolling off the contours of their corporal forms, it was so palpable around them. How good it was to not be Ron at that moment, Harry mused. And how amazing it was that a person could look so much like Mrs. Weasley in only a matter of seconds, he reflected as he surveyed Ginny’s rising form. “What was that, Ron? I don’t think I heard you properly…” Ginny said blazingly. Next to her, Hermione looked simply murderous the way she was balling her hands into fists. Ron seemed to have just realized his mistake for he then appeared almost frightened, and the sugar quill that had been held between his mouth fell from his lips and to the floor, forgotten. “Er… I really didn’t mean it like that…” He mumbled a little bit too late, leaning away from them with alarmed eyes. He looked to Harry for support. Harry crossed his arms and stared mutely at the table, ignoring Ron’s silent call for help, knowing better then to become between the two infuriated girls and his best mate. You’re on your own, mate. Besides, he was still a bit angry for being disturbed with Ginny. If only their connection was allowed to thrive just a little bit longer… He quivered at the thought. “Of course you meant it, Ron! Why else would you have said it?!” Growled Hermione, whom Harry noted was making odd noises in the back of her throat like some cat that had been doused in cold water, “Because honestly, you can’t be so thick as to say such a thing!” She shrieked. Both Harry and Ron winced and sunk down in their seats, Harry from embarrassment at have capturing the entire pub’s attention, and Ron from the weight of their lethal stares. “Ron, I have a perfectly good reason to be mad, so don’t go blaming it on something you couldn’t even begin to fathom! Boys, honestly! The whole lot of you are complete prats!” Ginny sighed, sitting heavily back down in her chair and went into a state of angry silence as normality returned to the three broomsticks, and those around them turned back to their own conversations. Hermione, still fired up, appeared as though she wanted to continue arguing their point but settled for crossing her arms stubbornly and glaring daggers at Ron from across the table, bushy hair frizzled. Every few seconds, their silence was broken by another huff from her. Meanwhile, Ron let out a long, relived breath, no doubt glad to have gotten so easily off the hook as the dark cloud that had gathered over his head drifted away. The red-head grabbed Harry’s butterbeer tankard, despite his cry of protest, and downed the rest of its warm contents in quick succession before wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. The four avoided each others gazes, and just when Harry thought no one was going to say something to break the ice that had been so meticulously constructed with their icy anger, Ginny spoke. “I hate it how you boys think you know everything…” She said after that long moment. Harry and Ron exchanged a look. “What makes you think that we think we know everything…?” Asked Ron, a brief expression of uncertainty about his choice of words crossing his features. Harry noted that despite her current feelings toward Ron, a smile spread across Hermione’s face. She casually hid it behind a quiet cough though. “Well, for one thing, whenever something is bothering us woman, you immediately come to the conclusion that ‘it’s that time of the month again’ rubbish.” Ginny stated, wagging her quote fingers sourly. Ron grimaced. “Can you honestly blame me though? I’ve seen what you’re like when it happens, Ginny, and hell, I’ve been on the receiving end of your bloody wand long enough to know that it isn’t your O.W.L. exams bothering you…” He said, shuddering with revolt. There was a moment of silence that followed with his words where Ginny, Hermione and even Harry stared at him with widening eyes and arched eyebrows. Between a mouthful of his cauldron cake, Ron cried, “What? I’m just saying that it’s like trying to interrupt a dragon during its mating season… Or maybe, telling the portrait of that busty barmaid on the sixth floor that she’s gaining weight. You know… the one with the…” Ron paused to whisper, “cleavage showing…? A bit of a scarlet-woman, if you ask me... Really, what is it about you girls and your weight, anyway…? A bloke will say one word about your blasted weight and then the next thing he knows, you girls are threatening to shove your wands up in places where they normally wouldn’t be welcomed. Honestly… Er…Hey, why are you all staring at me like that?” He asked flabbergasted, his gaze pausing on each of his friends in turn. Ron’s voice cracked on the last word whilst his ears flamed red. No sooner had the words left his mouth that Hermione started to shriek with unceremonious laughter, followed by Ginny whom promptly fell off of her stool, she was giggling so hard. Meanwhile, Harry had his face pressed against the surface of the table, and gave a feeble groan of embarrassment about their turn of conversation. Merlin’s beard, Ron…Some analogies… Ginny choked through her laughter, “If only you could hear yourself, Ron! Oh, classic! A dragon during it’s mating season!” She broke off and buried her face, shoulders quivering with restrained mirth. In reply to his sister, Ron scratched his head and further blushed for reasons unbeknownst to only himself. “Was it something I said?” Harry clapped a hand on Ron’s shoulder and sighed, feeling just as lost. “Don’t try to understand them, Ron… It’s a lost cause…” The two Gryffindors shared a look and nodded. It was then as Harry and Ron watched the two girls opposite them continue to giggle themselves beyond recall, that they knew the ice had finally been broken. The four exited the spindly gates of Hogsmeade, bellies full of warm butterbeer (cool refreshed for Ginny), and began to start up the slanting hill toward Hogwarts as it was time to return to school for dinner. Harry quickened his pace along side his friends, eager to return to the school since he was feeling simply ravenous. The Boy who Lived hadn’t lunch before they left for the village nor did he find the time to pick up a late lunch during their outing that afternoon. And as they walked, a slight uncomfortable pressure he knew to be hunger pressed against the sides of his stomach and emitted fairly loud grumbles that pleaded for food. Hey, quit it, Harry gave the silent command when his stomach made a particular painful roar. Determined to keep his mind off of his stomach, Harry turned his attention to the skies above. Their weekend had been an odd one with unnaturally warm temperatures and light breezes; it brought a relief to those who yearned for the demise of winter and the bringing of spring. The beginning of spring told students many things with its coming. It was a time of changes, a time of raw beginnings and for most people, it also meant that school was slowly coming to an end. But Harry… Spring was balance. It was neither hot nor cold and it brought him an immense sense of content to know that in spring, things were coming to life rather then dying with autumn. It was then, as he continued staring idly up above, that he noticed a grouping of dark clouds stretching across the sky, leaving gray and black in their wake. The air grew ominously thick and the rising moisture clung uncomfortably to his skin, causing an outbreak of sweat to form along the brow of his forehead. He swiped the end of his sleeve across his face. Oh no… Above their heads, the warm breeze was starting to slowly gather speed and the dark clouds were beginning to chase away all remnants of the clear, bright evening. Hermione looked up and followed Harry’s eyes. “Oh no… I think it’s going to rain… So much for the good weather, right?” She queried dryly, extending her hands, palms up, to the sky as if waiting to feel the touch of rain to her skin. Sure enough, no sooner had she done just that that a light drizzle began to fall from the darkened sky as if awoken by her beckon. Cries of dismay, blocked out against the steady howling of the wind erupted from around them, and remaining students began to break into a run up to the castle. Harry, blessing his luck that he had been one of the only ones around them that brought a cloak, slipped it gratefully around his shoulders. It was when they were nearing the half mark on the hill that Harry realized Ginny was not with them. Halting, he turned around and squinted his eyes against the rain, running an impatient hand over his glasses, and searched for a sign of her familiar red hair through the haze. Finally, he caught sight of her somewhere down near the gates, the silhouette of her form only noticeable from the shock of her locks. Calling for Ron and Hermione to wait up, Harry ran past the huddles of wet students scampering past him and approached Ginny. Her hair was damp from the moisture and a troubled expression pulled her lips into a frown as she repeatedly stuffed her hands into her pockets as if she were looking for something she had misplaced. “Ginny, what’s wrong?!” Harry shouted against the rising howl of the wind. It was really starting to get stormy… Ginny looked at him and cried, “It’s my satchel; I don’t know where it is!” She checked her back pockets in distress. Ron and Hermione quickly joined them by the gates, hugging themselves protectively against the onslaught of rain that was continuing to grow harder with each passing minute. Above their heads, the metallic sound of water droplets pounding on the gates filled the air along with the harmonic chorus of howling wind and the distant sound of feet hitting the mud. Ron cupped a hand over his mouth and shook water from his sopping hair. “Ginny, what’s wrong!?” “I’ve lost my satchel!” She yelled, her hair in auburn strings. Harry looked to the gates, through the bars leading into Hogsmeade. “Do you reckon you left it at the three broomsticks?” He asked. She followed his gaze and nodded resignedly. “Yeah, that must be where I left it! I’ll have to go back for it, you three go ahead back to the castle!” She turned and raised her hand to open the gate latches. Harry shook his head and stalled her wrist. No, she wasn’t going alone. No one, especially not Ginny was going to be left behind. Who knew what could happen if she traveled to Hogsmeade alone and in the midst of a storm. He had learned long ago not to leave one astray; you just might loose someone that way… “No! We’ll come with you!” Harry said at last, ignoring Hermione’s drowned glare. Wind nipped at their shivering forms and it had come hard to believe that only ten minutes before, the four of them were walking the streets of Hogsmeade under bright azure skied and fluffy white clouds. Ginny shook her head and parted the gates. “No, don’t bother, I’ll go by myself.” Harry growled and made to follow her. “Fine, Ron and Hermione can go back up to the castle, and I’ll go with you.” Ginny went silent and stared up at him with that strange expression again. The one that had crossed her face in the three broomsticks. Harry refused to turn away. The expression slowly faded from her features and was replaced with a look as though she wanted to argue her right to go alone but settled for crossing her arms with a snort of ”Suit yourself then…” before turning away and disappearing quickly into the haze that was the village. Pushing away locks of dripping hair out of his eyes, feeling both disappointed and startled, he stared at her retreating back. When she was gone, Harry bid his two best friends return to the castle and save them a sure place by the warm fireplace up in Gryffindor tower, no doubt they’d need it. He continued to watch them trek up the muddy hill toward the castle and away from the storm until they vanished completely from his sight. Breathing deeply, the Gryffindor steeled himself for his journey and reentered the village, the gates closing behind him with a resounding bang. And no matter how hard Harry tried, he could not help but have the distinct feeling that it was going to be a very long night. A short and very wet time later, the doors of the three broomsticks closed behind Harry and Ginny, and they grinned in relief at one another as Ginny hugged her satchel to her chest. “Mission completed,” Ginny winked before the two ran back out into the storm to return home. Dinner would no doubt be in full swing whence they arrived, and Harry desperately hoped that one of his friends would have a plate of food already fixed up for him and Ginny. If not, a trip to the kitchens sounded in order, anything at least to claim the hunger rippling his insides. He was just imagining all the different things he would be able to eat when a shocked cry shattered his thoughts, followed by the rattling of metal. Ginny’s fingers were tight around the bars of the gates that gave them entry to the hill up to Hogarts, shaking in vain, willing them to open. But the locking charm held strong and refused to weaken under her tugs and pushes. She swung around to face him, her hair matted to the forehead over her panic stricken brown eyes. “Harry, it’s the gates!! They’re locked!” She cried. Harry gasped. A/N: Ok, I’ll start part 2 soon, but I’m starting school tomorrow… Ick… wish me luck! And I hope you enjoyed this first part, my writing was a bit dodgy I think, but I hope it went alright. Also, the word Pillarrot comes from the words Pill for Pillage and Arrot from Parrot. I will now play the part of the desperate fanfic author asking for reviews… ahem! I would really appreciate a review even if it’s a simple “it’s good, update soon. I’ll need the motivation with me going back to school and everything… so like I said, reviews would really be appreciated. Hehehe Cheers! |
| Reviews 16 |
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